The Beginning of the End (14 page)

“Sure, it’s
2-10-1-11”

Chevy fingered the
keypad entering most of the numbers, but forgetting the last few.
“What is it again?”

I pushed him aside,
“Move over. I'll open it.” I punched in the code the keypad
flashed green, which was followed by three beeps and a click. Chevy
looked at the flashing keypad and back at me asking, “How do you
remember all those numbers?”

“It’s easy! Eyes,
Fingers, Cock, and Toes.” Chevy gave me a confused look and then we
both burst out laughing.

The laughing slowed,
and I gave the door a push. It swung open and stopped when it hit the
back wall with a metallic thump. Chevy walked past me into the room
with his mouth wide open.

The Arm’s Room was
eight feet wide, lined with counters and drawers on both sides. Above
the counters were rifle racks, each holding a rifle horizontally,
five racks high from the counter to the ceiling. The racks were on
every wall, and every rack was holding a rifle. My mom use to joke
with my dad and say, “Your racks are all full, so I guess you’ll
have to sell one before you can buy another.”

That didn’t stop him.
He just found other places to hide them.

Chevy went right for
the back wall and grabbed a rifle off the rack, “I want this one.”
he said eyeing the long gun up and down. “Chevy that’s a Barrett
82A1. It’s a sniper rifle. It’s like five feet long and weighs
almost thirty pounds. Plus, I can’t see us needing to snipe a lot
of dead.” Chevy heaved the gun up and down a few times, “I guess
you’re right.” He set the rifle back in the rack, a little
disappointed. He slowly spun in a circle gazing at all the racks and
reached for another, “How about this one?” I reached out and took
the gun from Chevy, “Great choice! One of my favorites. This is a B
& T MP9. Only military and police can own these. It’s a
semi-automatic and shoots a 9mm round. It’s got some pretty good
stopping power, my dad has a thigh holster for it, somewhere in one
of these drawers.” I handed the MP9 back to him and watched as he
ran his hands over the gun. He stopped when he reached the barrel.
“What’s this thing on the end?”

“It’s a suppressor.
It makes the gun a lot quieter.”

“That’s awesome!”
Chevy cheered.

I went through the
drawers and started pulling out more supplies, “Here’s ten
magazines for your 9. Better start filling them, here are some boxes
of ammo. Each one will hold thirty rounds. Chevy watched as I opened
and closed each drawer, amazed at all the gear my dad had acquired.

I was quick to pick out
some of my favorites. Two Glock 17s with a fancy two gun holster, one
for my right hip, one for my left. A police issued Bushmaster AR-15,
tactical flashlights, knives, and lots of ammo.

“What’s that?”
Chevy asked as he pointed into one of the side of the drawers. I
reached in pulling it out, “Do you mean this?” Chevy shook his
head like an excited kid, “Yes!” I held up the weapon displaying
it, “This my friend, is a SOG Tactical Tomahawk. Sixteen inches of
blackened steel, topped with a three-inch axe blade in the front and
a four-inch punch dagger on the back. The only purpose of this weapon
is to inflict trauma.”

“I want it!” Chevy
panted.

Thirty minutes later, I
was done going through all the drawers. We walked out armed to the
heel. I wore my dad’s handmade two rig holster, giving me access to
a Glock 17 on both sides. The holster had room to accommodate six,
twelve round mags. I slung my dad’s AR-15 .223 Bushmaster over my
shoulder and finished off with twin Fusion Ronin Ninja Swords. I wore
the swords on my back, and they crossed at the top. They may have
been a cheap quality, but they sure looked cool. Chevy stepped out of
the room still playing with his tomahawk. He was set up with the MP9,
holstered on his right thigh. I also made him take the Remington 12
gauge combat shotgun with the back sling. You couldn’t get any
better than that for close combat. We were ready for anything.

Our mission was still
to find my parents, but we had added the task of saving those girls
too. I flipped off the light, and we headed back to the kitchen.
Chevy walked up the stairs in front of me. I caught something flash
on the top of his boot, “What’s that in your boot?” I asked.
Chevy crested the stairs into the kitchen and took a seat, “That’s
nothing.” I reached down and pulled up his pant, exposing three
Chinese throwing knives that velcroed around his boot, “What do you
have those for?” I chuckled. He looked down at his boot and flexed
his ankle, admiring the knives. “They’re cool, and I might need
them in an emergency situation or something.”

“Have you ever thrown
a knife before?”

Chevy pulled the curved
blade from the sheath admiring the steel, “Yeah, plenty of times!”
he said as he tossed the blade a few inches in the air. The idea was
to catch it, but the point caught him on the middle of his palm.
“Ouch!”

The knife bounced off
his hand and landed on the kitchen floor with a distinctive metal
twang.

“You’re such a
dork, Chevy.”

“I was just fooling
around, I meant to do that!” he said with his face flushing red
with embarrassment.

I laughed at Chevy as
he slid the knife back in the sheath.

I reached for the
fridge and got us a couple of sodas. I set them on the table and
remembered that my mom’s phone was still in my back pocket. I
pulled it out and hit the Home button. I went right to the voice
messages and crossed my fingers. I glanced up at Chevy, “Here we
go!”

I pressed play.

October 11th 9:00am

Sophie stood at the
edge of the building and peeked around the corner. Her lungs burned
from running, and although she couldn’t see them, she knew the dead
were close. Across the park, she could see her Mini Cooper parked
right where she had left it. She reached in her lab coat and pulled
out a small chain with two keys on it. One for her house, the other
her Cooper. With her lung's cooling and her breathing slowing, Sophie
took a final look in both directions. Pushing off the wall, her
sprint was on. Even while running she was still looking both ways
searching for the dead. Halfway across the park she spotted movement
on both sides of her. She tried to increase her speed, but it was a
feeble attempt. Her lungs were starting to burn again. She arced her
path to avoid the approaching horde to the right. Just a few more
feet and she would be at the Cooper. The key was already, in her
hand, ready to be thrust into the locked door. Sophie put her hands
out and used the car to stop her momentum. Her body thumped against
the vehicle rocking it. The key slid right into the door lock. She
glanced back and could see the dead were just a few feet away. Sophie
opened the door and dropped into the driver’s seat. She slammed it
closed and slapped at the lock just as a dead woman smashed her face
against the glass. Sophie thrust her key in the ignition. As she
looked up, a dead man jumped on the hood of the car, and banged his
head against the windshield. With each bang, the man snapped his
teeth at Sophie. It amazed her that she could hear the clacking
inside of the car. She turned the key, and the engine came to life.
She slammed the vehicle into first gear and popped the clutch. The
Cooper took off spinning its tires, leaving the dead female in the
dust. The male clutched onto the windshield wipers as Sophie made a
series of right and left turns trying to shake the man off. The dead
man lost his right hand grip, and that’s all it took. Sophie turned
to the left, and the man flew off.

Winding through the
gears, Sophie crossed St. Catherine Street and a few minutes after
she was on the Champlain Bridge leaving the City. She didn’t slow
until thirty minutes later when she was well outside the city. She
pulled the Mini Cooper over on the side of the highway and opened the
door to vomit. Sophie bent out of the car still seat belted in and
left her lunch on the black pavement. She sat back up and started the
car moving again. She was working her way through the gears when
something caught her eye in the rear-view mirror. She looked again
and saw Bob sitting in the back seat. Sophie screamed, “You just
scared the shit out of me, Bob!” Bob said nothing, he just sat
there staring at her. Sophie asked Bob through the mirror, “What’s
wrong with you?”

Sophie knew what was
wrong with him when she saw the swirling blue irises and the vulture
gray pupil. Before she could do anything, Bob jumped forward biting a
chunk out of her neck. Blood sprayed across the inside of the
windshield, and the Mini Cooper went off the road coming to a
thumping stop in the middle of a corn field. Sophie swung her door
open and tried to jump out, but her seatbelt kept her firmly planted
in the seat. Sophie screamed as Bob took bite after bite. Between
each bite, Bob was moaning, “Sophie! Sophie!”

“Sophie, are you
okay? Sophie, wake up!” She opened her eyes and saw the fluorescent
lights over her head, buzz and come to life. “How do you feel?”
Bob asked over the microphone from behind the six inches of glass.

“It’s 9am. You've
been asleep for eleven hours.” Sophie kicked her legs over the side
of the isolation room bed and rubbed her eyes until Bob came into
focus, “Well, I’m not trying to eat you, if that’s what you’re
asking.” Sophie got off the bed, taking her own vitals. Bob watched
and waited for the results. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease.
“I’ve been here watching you sleep for a couple of hours.”
Sophie looked up from taking her pulse, “That’s creepy!”

Bob uncomfortably
adjusted his sleeve, “Well I didn’t plan on it, but when I came
down to check on you, you were talking in your sleep. I am sure I
heard you say my name.” The edges of Bob’s lips curled up, “I
thought maybe you and I were on a date, and got something to eat.”
Sophie lifted a single eyebrow at Bob, “Yeah, it was something like
that.” she said. Sophie finished her assessment and went to the
cabinet pulling out two blood tubes and a needle. She sat back down
on the bed, found a vein, and filled each tube half way. Sophie
brought the tubes to a glass drawer that was built into the wall. She
placed both tubes in the drawer and hit the decontamination button. A
powerful mist of bleached steam hissed over the tubes. When the mist
stopped, Bob hit the Collect Sample button on his side of the wall
and the tubes moved closer to him in a second sealed chamber. The
steam hissed again, and the chamber door slid open allowing Bob to
collect the tubes, “I’ll bring these right to Dr. Marcil for
testing. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” he said walking
away. Sophie yelled out, “Please turn out the lights! I’m going
back to sleep.”

Bob teased, “Ah, more
dreams of dinner with me, perhaps?”

God I hope not!”
Sophie sighed as she turned over and went back to sleep.

October 12th 1:15am

“Why are they going
to kill us?” Kate cried. Sage reached over and grabbed onto her
hands.

“Don’t worry, we’re
going to get out of-” Sage was interrupted by a sound in the next
room.

“Bring her over here
and chain her to the table,” Kane yelled across the room. Wife
Beater dragged an elderly female across the tiled floor to the long
metal table. Her small frame and frail bones made it easy to swing
her up onto the work area. Kane eyed the old lady from head to toe,
“Oh, how nice. You remind me of my grandma!”

Wife Beater fastened
leather restraints around the woman’s hands and neck. The old lady
began kicking her legs and screaming. Kane grabbed one of her legs
and slammed it against the table. He felt the old woman’s ankle
shatter in his hand when it struck the table, “Now see what you
made me do. I bet that hurts a lot?” Kane reached down and grabbed
a handcuff that was fastened to the table leg. He lifted the free
cuff and locked it to woman’s swelling ankle, “Oh my goodness!
Your ankle is turning purple. I bet that really hurts.”

Kane looked up at Wife
beater who was still standing at the head of the table, “Do we have
anything for-“ he paused, “How rude of me, I never thought to ask
your name.” The old lady was gasping through the pain, “My name
is Sarah.” Kane sighed and tilted his head, “Sarah with an H?”
he asked looking down at her. “Yes, with an H.” she mustered. “My
favorite, Sarah with an H. The true, honest wholesome spelling. Now,
I bet you didn’t know the name Sarah means Princess. Sarah shook
her head no. Legend says God gave the name Sarah to Abraham’s wife
before Isaac was born. So I guess you’re in good company!” Kane
chuckled. “Now I’m completely off track, where was I? Oh yes. I
was in the middle of asking my assistant if we have anything for the
pain.” Wife Beater held up a hacksaw. Both of Kane’s eyebrows
went up, “Hmm?”

Sarah’s face was
expressing fear and panic. Kane wiped a tear from Sarah’s cheek,
“Don’t worry Sarah. He’s just messing with you. I would never
cut off your foot with a hacksaw. Do you have any idea how long that
would take me?” Kane looked up at Wife Beater, “Get me the
chainsaw!” Sarah let out a scream, and Kane struck her in the face
breaking her jaw! Her vision blurred as she felt warm blood running
down her face. She began to fall in and out of consciousness. Kane
bent over and rubbed the side of Sarah’s face, “Don’t worry,
Grandma. Go to sleep, and when you wake up this will all be over.”

Sage was up on her
feet, stretching her head trying to look out the office door’s
window. “Sage, what do you see out there?”

“There’s a lady
with white hair tied to a table. I think she’s dead!” Sage
watched as Wife Beater handed Kane an orange and white chainsaw. Sage
closed her eyes as he started it on the first pull. The sound was
deafening in the metal walled building. He revved the chainsaw and
swung it around in circles above his head. His tongue was hanging out
of his open mouth, and he was shaking it, acting crazy. Wife Beater
was laughing at him when he brought the chainsaw down slicing off the
white-haired woman’s foot. “Oh my god!” Sage screamed as she
fought the chain to the floor. “What is it? What’s that noise?”
Kate gasped. “It’s nothing! We need to get the fuck out of here
now!” Sage yanked on the chain trying to break free. She was
shocked when the lights in the room flipped on, “What’s all the
racket in here?” Kane yelled. Sage dropped back to the floor and
huddled with Kate.