APOCALYCIOUS: Satire of the Dead (58 page)

“If I didn’t have these,” she said, placing her hand between her breasts, “you would probably stare at me because I’m a midget, huh?”

“I thought you were a hypochondriac.”

“Hypochondroplasia, Arlington, actually being called a midget really doesn’t bother me. I‘ve heard it all my life. Technically I am a dwarf, but you didn’t answer my question,” she said, leveling her dark brown eyes on his dull blue ones.

“I’d still stare, I guess,” he admitted. “
But it's because you really do look like this one actress I like, not because you're a midget.” He thought for a minute then said, “People used to stare at my old hook too, you know?”

She supposed that she did know.

“I think you look like a pirate,” she said in a matter of fact tone.

“Captain Hook, kinda scurvy? I’ve heard that once or twice,” he smiled.

“No, Neff, not scurvy, you’re actually kind of cute when you aren’t being a dunce. But I can one-up you on that…I’ve heard about a thousand drunk guys ask me if I have a flat head so they could rest their beers on it,” she said blushing, with a laugh, and although he was surprised at her confession Arlington laughed too.

“How many of them did you punch in the balls?”

She gave a sly grin. “I’ve smashed a few grapes in my time,” she said “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we Mr. Neff.”

He shrugged. “I think we make a good pair, Ms. Mendoza.”

“Nita, my friends call me Nita.”

“Mine usually call me asshole, but I prefer
Arlington.”

She was silent for a moment as if she were trying to decide something, then she scooted over beside him and rested her head against his arm. She wasn’t sure why she did this, it wasn’t like her to show this much trust, especially with someone she hadn’t known long. He raised his arm and wrapped it around her small frame. His hook rested on her thigh and she picked it up and held it in her hand, examining the strange metal. She watched as the hook coiled around her hand, holding it firmly
, but gently and she smiled.

Soon she was breathing lightly from her mouth and
Arlington saw that she had fallen asleep. He watched her as she dozed and allowed her to sleep a while.

Juanita woke to the thunderous blows against the doors. The noise echoed through the basement and sounded even louder and more aggressive than before. She patted the floor beside her and found her shotgun. She flipped on the light.

“
Arlington?” she whispered and shined the light in every direction searching for him. She jumped as she heard more metallic banging sounds from behind her, opposite the double doors. She rose slowly to her feet, ignoring the pain that ripped through her hips. She walked cautiously to the back of the basement.

“
Arlington?” Juanita said again, still in a whisper, but a little louder than the first.

She heard the sound of a light weight metal crashing against the concrete floor like a cheap cymbal, and jumped involuntarily. She forced herself to move forward and her sneakers were silent as she tip-toed across the floor. She eased her finger against the trigger.

              “Arlington?”

She heard a
whoomp
as thin metal dented. She jacked a round into the chamber and shined her light at the back corner. She saw the metal duct work of one of the museum’s industrial-sized air conditioners had been ripped open and from within heard the sounds of movement through its hollow confines.

She barely had to duck her head as she peered into the blackness of the metal duct and shined her light up the vertical shaft. Fifteen feet above her head she saw the bottoms of
Arlington’s boots slide to the side and watched as they disappeared from view.

“
Arlington,” she said, louder this time, but still received no response.

From behind her she heard something that sounded like a small caliber gunshot and knew that the chain that separated them from the dead had finally snapped. She heard metal wrenching against metal and heavy boxes crash to the floor as the contents broke in smaller pieces.

              “Arlington! They’re coming!”

She aimed the shotgun out of the hole in the duct toward the unearthly screams of rage and wails of hunger as they continued to batter their way through the door. She heard the shrieking of metal sliding against concrete as they pushed the overturned shelves out of their way and entered the basement.

She shot a quick upward glance into the darkness of the ductwork and heard even more banging from where Arlington had climbed. “Arlington! Dammit! Can you hear me?” she screamed, and shaking, pointed the shotgun back toward the door. She heard the disjointed slapping of bare feet on the concrete floor then her light caught the milk white eyes of the dead that reflected like an Anubis’s in the beams of headlights. Juanita aimed and fired, disintegrating the head of the leading dead. Its body fell backward into another who slammed its carcass to the side with a sideways sweep of its arm. She chambered another round and fired. It took another one of the dead men full in the chest, staggering it, but it didn’t fall. She knew that to kill them you must shoot them in the head but her nerves made her jump the gun. The ragged chest cavity oozed with puss and maggots. She gagged, almost threw up, but managed to swallow the bile back down. Juanita screamed Arlington’s name as she fired again and again and again until the firing pin struck nothing and made an empty click. The light click seemed virtually as loud as the metal shrieking against the floor. It was a sound of finality.

The dead were moving forward, faster and more urgently. They swarmed into the basement like a walking mud slide through the opened double doors. They were thirty feet away at most. She backed fully into the duct and fumbled to reload the shotgun. She dropped the first shell and it rolled out of the duct and onto the concrete. She grabbed another and thumbed it into the underside of the weapon. She glanced up and saw no sign of
Arlington.

The dead were closing fast upon Juanita. Her fingers had grown cold and she was shaking violently; her teeth began to chatter. She managed to insert another round in the shotgun then dared another glance at the dead.

Oh God…
she thought; transfixed on the macabre visage that approached.

“
Arlington! Please!” Juanita screamed as she loaded a third shell. It was all the time she could waste. She raised the shotgun to her shoulder, pumped a shell and fired, making sure she aimed higher than the chest. Another head exploded, the shrapnel of the buck shot, bits of skull fragments and teeth at this close range ripped into the dead woman behind the first, taking the top of its skull with it.

Arms reached for her, flailing. Fingers twisted into meat hooks and slashed at her face. She felt something drop onto her shoulder, she jumped when she heard
Arlington’s voice booming down the duct work as if he were in an amphitheater. “Grab it!”

She moved automatically, without thinking, she dropped the shotgun and grabbed the rope in both hands. As she was being raised up the duct she felt a hand latch onto her shoe. She kicked at it, but it refused to let go. She placed the toe of her other shoe on the back of the shoe being held and kicked off the shoe. The corpse flew backwards and fell onto the row of dead behind it. She felt herself being propelled upward, but the trip seemed far too short and not nearly far enough away from the dead below her.
Arlington’s hand and hook grabbed her beneath her arms and hoisted her over the ledge of the duct.

She was shaking uncontrollably. “I lost my shoe,” she said absently, and
Arlington knew that she was going into shock.

“We’ll get you some new ones when we get outa here.”

He pulled her through the duct as he backed to the end of it.

“When I give the word, you’ll have to grab on again,” he instructed then hoisted himself up the homemade rope to the next level. The rope was made of multiple lengths of packing twine that had been twisted together over top of the unraveled Ranger bracelet; duct tape spiraled over the outside of the rope helping to hold it together and adding extra strength.

She managed to grab hold of the rope and hang on for one more level, but could go no further. He noticed that her breathing was fast and labored. He dragged her from the edge, reached into his pack, stuffing his para-cord rope inside. He felt around in the pack and found the can of non-dairy creamer that he had found in one of the boxes below. The stuff was highly combustible, he wasn’t sure what was in the stuff that rendered it so, but he had seen it on some television show, so he dumped the contents of the can down the chute. If the dead followed them he would toss his Zippo down onto them and ignite the powder. It wouldn’t kill them, but it might slow them down some.

He clamored back over her and held his hook out before him, straightening the metal hook and it formed an ice pick-like dagger. He slammed it through the back side of the duct again and again, cutting a jagged hole into the sheet metal. He wrenched the metal down and felt around behind it. Six inches behind it he could feel the brick wall of the building.

“Dang it!” he cried, then pulled out his radio and keyed the mic. “Basil! Can you see our heat signatures?”

The radio crackled to life, but there seemed to be much less interference. “I see you.”

Arlington breathed a sigh of relief. “There’s a brick wall here. Anything you can do about it?”

“Back away from the wall,” Basil said, and
Arlington obeyed without question. He crawled back over the semi-conscious Latina and peered over the ledge of the duct. He could hear them coming. How they had managed to climb up the first level he didn’t know, but he shined his light down and saw them looking up at him. He thumbed the wheel of his Zippo and dropped it down onto the pile of creamer. It ignited instantly; a fireball shot up and caught the ruined jacket, which the dead man wore, on fire. The dead man didn’t react in pain, but the fire did seem to confuse the dead man as the flames leapt before his milky eyes.

“Good enough,”
thought Arlington aloud.

Arlington
heard something hard bump into the brick wall and a rapid vibration shook the entire building. The vibrations grew faster and faster and he saw cracks of light as the mortar began to crumble. Dust showered down on them like powdery snow.

He heard steady, rhythmic bangs coming up the duct and looked down. The dead man was still on fire, but he drove his fingers through the sides of the duct, pulling himself upward with each handful of metal.
Arlington thumbed the mic again. “You’ve gotta hurry up, old buddy.”

The bricks cracked as the vibrations grew faster and the banging from the duct drew nearer.
Arlington pushed Juanita’s body closer to the wall as the wall opened up, revealing the silver surface of the top of the disk. Basil might only have one eye, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with his depth perception as Arlington feared upon first impression. He shoved Juanita out onto the top of the ship and crawled out behind her. He turned onto his back, exhausted, and just as he did he saw the dead man skittering like a blazing spider through the duct, racing toward the ship. Arlington watched as the dead man leapt at them, but Basil raised the ship at the last second and the dead man cart-wheeled down to the parking lot below with a revoltingly wet sound and the brittle cracking of bones.

Arlington
laughed into the mic. “You Wiley Coyote’d his ass. That was awesome!”

“That was just for you, my friend,” Basil said, and guided the ship onto the roof of another building across the street. It settled lightly and the ramp lowered. Laptu rushed from the ship and
Arlington saw him standing below, gesturing with his leathery fingers.

“Baby!” Laptu demanded.
Arlington lowered her down to the Bigfoot’s outstretched arms.

“Put her inside, and try not to forget to come back out and give me a hand,”
Arlington called as he watched Laptu dart out of sight.

Laptu returned and
Arlington was sure that it wasn’t just because he was anxious to help him, but rather, so he could get it over with and check on the baby.

Chapter 70 - Return to Easter Island

Easter Island 

              The speaker of Nan’s radio crackled to life and she heard Arlington’s distinctive drawl emerge from the static. She unclipped it from her hip and held it before her.

             
“Nan?”

“Welcome home Mr. Neff,” she said gleefully.

“Thanks Nan. I’m glad you’re out and about. We need some help,” said the pirate.

“What’s wrong?”
Nan asked with a tremor in her voice, “Is everyone alright? No one got bitten did they?”

“No, but Juanita…” he paused, not sure how to explain, “she had a bad scare and doesn’t look too good.”

“I’ll meet you at the airstrip,” she said and clipped the radio back onto her belt. She gunned the throttle and sped toward the airfield.

She watched over the handlebars as the ship winked in the sunlight and settled at the end of the runway. She didn’t call Death or Diego; they would have heard them on their own radios and would surely arrive shortly behind her.

When she arrived she saw Laptu pacing nervously back and forth behind Arlington who was carrying Juanita in his tattooed arms.

Nan
rushed to him. “Is she alright?”

“I think so, but she needs rest and fluids. Is the island secure?”

“We finished burning the last of the bodies yesterday. Did you find what you were looking for?” Nan asked, as she laid the back of her hand against Juanita’s forehead.

“They’re in my pack but I can’t leave ‘em here. They’re too dangerous. Are the buildings safe?”

“Yes and the caves are too.”

“Good. Laptu, you take Juanita and go with
Nan,” he said and handed Nita’s limp body to the yeti. Laptu cradled her securely within his great, hairy arms. “I’ll catch up. You two get going.”

They heard the other ATV’s approaching, but
Nan and Laptu didn’t wait for Death and Diego, instead they hurried toward the residential part of the island.

Death braked hard and slid to a sideways stop before
Arlington." Good to see you in one piece. Need a lift?”

“I have to cache the skulls first, after that’s done, I’ll check on Nita,”
Arlington said.

“
Nita
, huh? Sounds like you two are getting along better. What’s wrong with her anyhow?”

“Shock, I think.”

“Is she going to be alright?” Death asked with concern. Concern was new to the man, but he had been growing to embrace a more selfless existence.

“I think she just needs some rest. Did anything interesting happen around here?”

“Matter of fact, we had another ship stop, plus we found a couple people hiding in one of the basements. Nan assigned them the use of a few of the houses.”

“How many?”

“Twelve in all… now, get this…” Death said, and looked around in a conspiratorial way “they were attacked by pirates, honest to God pirates.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, from the sound of it there are a ton of ships out there pirating. Evidently, living on the water is safer than land,” Death said.

“So I should probably get us some more firepower,”
Arlington ventured.

“I would. Maybe furnish the ships we have with some deck guns or something.”

“About the biggest I can manage would be .30’s or .50’s,” Arlington said, then looked back at the ship.

“Come on, man. The rest can wait. Check on Nita and let her know you are worried about her. Don’t be playing John Wayne.” Death said patting
Arlington on the shoulder, “Climb on, Basil will watch the skulls.”

Arlington
knew that he had to find a safe place to stash the crystal skulls, but he did want to see Nita. Death had seen through his act of indifference and had called him on it. Arlington looked at the long haired young man sheepishly then climbed on.

The acrid smell of burnt flesh still lingered in the salt water air. Although still far from pleasant, it was much better than the smell of the putrefying dead. Over the past few months they had forgotten what fresh air actually smelled like. In urban areas it was invariably the worst and reeked of sulfur mingled with the sickening sweet smell of citrus gone bad. It was a scent that was impossible to describe accurately, but one that humans would instinctively know as the smell of death.

The tiny island in the middle of the
Pacific Ocean made Arlington feel very isolated, almost claustrophobic. It was a surreal feeling to a man who had called the rolling foothills and country of southeastern, Ohio home. On the other hand he felt almost free. It was a small piece of freedom, not the big freedom that he could have enjoyed had he not previously been a prisoner of alcohol and conspiracy theories.

Death parked beside
Nan’s Kawasaki and they walked to the steel front door of a square cinder block building. “We set this up as our home base on the island. It’s the strongest building and the easiest to defend.”

Arlington
appraised the building approvingly. “Good choice, Death.”

“
Nan, actually,” corrected Death. “She’s always planning for everything, just in case.”

Arlington
grunted appreciatively.

They entered the building and found Laptu sitting on a couch stroking Juanita’s hair as she slept. It was an image that Death would have never believed if he hadn’t seen it. To him it sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.
A Sasquatch and a midget walk into a bar…

Nan
, who always seemed to have a reservoir full of energy, hurried to Death’s side and planted a loud, enthusiastic kiss on his cheek,

“She’s sleeping,” she told
Arlington.

“Good sleep?”

“Yes.” She glanced at Death slyly then turned her brown, almond shaped eyes back to Arlington. “She was saying your name.” It was a statement but the way she said it contained the inflection of a question.

Arlington
felt uncomfortable and shifted his stance. He could still feel Nan’s eyes probing him. “She kept saying it over and over,” Nan continued with a barely-restrained grin tracing her lips and Death gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Well…we almost didn’t make it. She was probably having a nightmare,”
Arlington said.

“I was just wondering because she always called you Neff before. I’ve never heard her call you by your first name.”

“Hey, why don’t we give the man a minute by himself, I think I could use some air,” Death said, trying to keep his wife’s prying to a minimum.

She looked at Death knowingly, but not perturbed, then returned her mischievous gaze back to
Arlington. “OK… I guess I was just wondering if anything happened between the two of you while you were gone.”

Death rolled his eyes. There really was no stopping his head strong woman once she got started.

“She’s catholic,” Arlington said because he could think of no other response.

Nan
arched her eyebrows then giggled. “Oh, that explains
everything.
See, I was thinking that maybe the two of you…you know…” she said and laughed again at her own discomfort “shared something…”

Death cut her off. “Alright nosy, give the man a break, would you?” he said and pulled her by the hand toward the door. She continued to embarrass
Arlington as she was pulled through the doorway.

“She
is
awfully cute…”

“Come on, Laptu,” interrupted Death as
Nan giggled. The yeti rose reluctantly and followed them out the door where Death shut it behind them. Arlington looked back to Juanita whose eyes were now open and looking directly at him.

“Are you embarrassed?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted with an awkward grin and sat next to her.

“We didn’t do anything for you to be embarrassed about, you know?” she looked hurt.

“I just get embarrassed easy, that’s all.” He tried to assure her and really did not know what he was trying to say. He liked her a lot, he knew that much and he thought that she had become closer to him, but she had not expressed any real interest in him either. “I’m glad you're alright,” he said

“Trying to change the subject?” Nita asked quietly.
Arlington crossed his arms, uncrossed them again, and then looked at them like he wondered just what the heck he was supposed to do with them. His hook coiled and uncoiled in nervous anxiety.

“Don’t worry, Neff, I’m used to men only being attracted to me in private. I’m kind of like that fat girl or a moped. They’re fun to ride until your friends catch you on one,” she said with a laugh, but it was a hollow sound. He looked at her eyes. They were dry, but the hurt was still there beneath a mask of indifference.
Arlington looked confused mainly because he was. He felt utterly disoriented and he had no idea of what to say. He had no verbal skills to begin with, let alone conversations like this. So Juanita continued for him. “I’m sorry that I…” she rolled her eyes up at the ceiling remembering how she had slipped to his side in the basement and had snuggled against him like some stupid little high school girl and had fallen asleep. It really wasn’t that big a deal, but still, she felt humiliated.

“Hold on,” he said with a look of stern concentration. For a moment he was silent as he collected his thoughts. She was quiet as she waited for a sack load of excuses and clichés. “OK, I’m just going to lay it out there. I suck at this, but…” he paused again as he stared at his hook with an expression that hinted that he might be contemplating slamming the hook into his ear.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re a woman and that explains a lot.” He stopped again then turned his eyes to hers. “I like you Nita. I even feel stupid calling you that because I…I don’t know why…anyway, if you think I care that you are a midg…dwarf, I don’t… I guess I just figured that you wouldn’t want someone like me.”

She put a hand on his forearm.

“I mean, you told me about the doctor and all the crap he did to you. Why would you want any man, let alone one like me? Shoot, I can’t even talk without sounding like Adam Sandler in the Waterboy.”

“You saved my life. No one else, except for Annie, would have thought enough of me to do that.”

He shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She leaned up at the waist and put her
other hand on his back. “Like you said earlier, we make a good pair…if you want to be.”  She watched his face redden again and moved the hand that she had placed on his forearm lightly on his cheek. “You wouldn’t be embarrassed to be with me?” she asked, needing confirmation.

He shook his head slowly then lowered his face
to hers and kissed her softly. He pulled away from her and looked at her seriously. “I think Laptu has been cleaning the dust off of you.”

She looked confused as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve got yeti drool on my lips.”

She laughed, relieved, and threw her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her body, squeezing her. “I thought I smelled spit…so where do we go from here?”

He shrugged. “
Nan wants me to get some things for the island and I need to take those skulls someplace that won’t lead the dead to us.”

“
We
need to,” she corrected him in part, but decided to leave her real question unanswered. She didn’t want Arlington to fry a circuit, overloading him.

“I’d rather you stay here.”

“And I’d rather you didn’t tell me what to do,” she said in a firm, but soft tone of voice.               He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, but if you’re gonna go with me then you need to rest for a few days first.”

Nita didn’t argue with that; she felt like she could sleep for at least that long, she was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

Arlington whipped his head toward the door when he heard whispering from the other side of it. It had to be Nan, eavesdropping. He couldn’t get mad at her though, Nan was a sweetheart and she really wasn’t doing anything wrong, she was just young, impatient and wanted to know every minute detail. Then he heard Death’s voice in a hushed, chastising tone.

Arlington
looked back at Nita and whispered. “It looks like we won’t have to tell those two.”

“I think I’ll tell them anyway,” Nita said and kissed him again.
Arlington had never seen her smile so brightly and he felt his stomach knot up with nerves. “Will you stay with me while I sleep?”

“Scootch over,”
Arlington said and after she did he stretched out beside her and she laid her head on his chest, one arm draped over his stomach, rubbing it lightly.

“So are we…together, now?”

“You mean…?” he asked and she nodded.

“As long as you want me,
I s'pose,” he said and brushed her hair from across her forehead. She sighed and squeezed against him. It was a content sound that she hadn’t made for a long, long time, and he liked that sound, it made him feel wanted, appreciated…needed.               Arlington thought that if this feeling was any indication, then all those years of compartmentalizing his fears and emotions had really been a waste.