Evil Harvest (39 page)
Authors: Anthony Izzo
Scrambling to his feet, he had just enough time to dive out of the way as it leapt at him, claws outstretched. Again it tried for him and he somersaulted out of the way, and it flew over top of him.
Matt bolted for the other end of the cafeteria, the beast in pursuit, wet breaths coming from its nostrils, anticipating a kill. He spotted the flagpole with its spearlike tip. It was maybe five feet behind him, and there would be no time to draw the gun from the holster, turn and fire.
He would have to improvise.
He slowed as he reached the wall.
When he was almost to the wall, he reached out for the flag stand, pulled it horizontal and braced the base of it against the wall. It tried to stop, but couldn’t. The tip of the flagpole caught it in the throat and ripped out the back of its neck.
Thick dark blood splashed onto Matt’s arm as the creature flailed at its throat, the flag stand sticking out from it at an angle. It fell to the ground, limbs twitching.
Matt took out the pistol and stepped around the body, giving it six feet of clearance, expecting it to spring back to life. When he was satisfied it was really dead, he took one last look at the creature and left the cafeteria.
C
HAPTER
34
HAPTER
34
People had begun to file into the gym about half an hour ago, and the room buzzed with the murmur of conversation.
Jill and Harry crouched behind the file cabinets on the balcony, crammed into a corner, both of them kneeling. Jill’s kneecaps started singing after about ten minutes and she hoped they wouldn’t have to stay in this position much longer. Harry looked equally uncomfortable, like a salmon packed into a sardine can.
“What do you think’s happening?” Jill said.
“Waiting for Rafferty, maybe.”
Just then the volume rose, the crowd whooping and hollering as something riled them up.
Jill couldn’t resist any longer, and she slid out from behind the cabinet. Crawling to the balcony wall, she peered over.
She wondered if Rafferty had found the creature that she and Harry killed. They hadn’t heard anyone rummaging around the school, but that didn’t mean anything; it was a large building and someone could have been walking around the wings without them hearing.
Harry joined her at the edge of the balcony after squeezing out of their hiding spot, huffing and puffing from the exertion.
The gym was cloaked in shadows, the only illumination coming from the emergency lights mounted on the walls. Jill estimated the crowd at about two hundred, less than what they anticipated, but still a formidable number. The crowd faced the stage, some of them craning their necks or standing on tiptoe in order to get a better look.
She looked toward the stage to see what the fuss was about, and her stomach knotted instantly. Now she knew why they had been hollering before.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
“Sweet Lord,” Harry said.
Ed Rafferty stood on the stage, and next to him was Liza. She had been fastened to an X-shaped cross, her ankles and wrists secured to the cross with rope. Her head hung down, and Jill wondered if she wasn’t already dead.
Rafferty surveyed the crowd, hands tucked into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels like a man who is truly satisfied with himself.
There were two other empty crosses on the stage, no doubt reserved for her and Harry.
“I’ll kill him.” Harry tried to stand, but Jill clamped onto his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“I’m gonna take this rifle and put a new hole in his head.”
“You can’t do that,” she said.
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”
“Slow down, Harry. Take a few deep breaths.”
He looked at her like a man who’s been cut off in traffic and is ready to run the other driver off the road.
“I know you’re angry, but stop and think.”
He exhaled a few quick breaths and then his face relaxed, the tension lines and wrinkles smoothing. “You’re right. We have to stick to the plan.”
“We’ll get her out, okay?”
“All right.”
“Where do you think Matt is?” Jill said.
“Maybe he got away,” Harry said, although Jill suspected Harry had the same thought she did: Rafferty had killed him.
She had to reject that type of thinking if she wanted to keep going and survive this ordeal. If she had to, she would will him to be alive.
“Are you ready?” Harry said.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They had counted on Matt being able to use the revolver and free himself and Liza, leaving Harry and Jill to light the school ablaze and destroy Them. Now, they had to worry about Liza.
“How will we get her out?” Jill said. “Do you think Matt’s still alive?”
“I honestly don’t know, Jill. I’m sorry.” Harry reached down, picked up the transmitter, and handed it to her.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna try for the stage. You light this place up. I’m hoping they’ll panic when they see the flames.”
“They’ll rip you to pieces.”
“I can’t leave her down there. Better that I go trying to save her than leave here a coward.”
“Harry—”
“No arguments. I’m doing this.”
Jill saw from the look in his eyes that she wouldn’t be able to change his mind. She sighed and nodded; that was all she could do, short of shooting him in the leg.
“Light up the door to the gym after I go through. Bring a few of those cocktails down to toss into the gym. Then get your ass up to the balcony and start lobbing firebombs. If it gets really bad, get out of here and set off the explosives.”
They dug two Molotov cocktails out of the box and Jill traded the M-16 for the shotgun. Harry would have better luck with an automatic weapon, as he would need to fire quickly and often.
They crept low to the ground, keeping below the balcony wall, and sneaked down the stairs to the gymnasium door. It was closed, to her relief, which would provide them some cover.
Harry opened the janitor’s closet and slid the gas cans out. Then he took out his Zippo and flipped it open, the flame waving back and forth hypnotically.
“I’ll open the door. Lob two of those high in the air and then shut the door. Light the gasoline and get upstairs.”
“How will you get out?”
“There’s that door behind the stage that leads to a service corridor near the cafeteria. I’m going to try for it. Ready?”
She nodded her head and he lit the rags. Harry flipped the Zippo lighter closed and gave it to her.
Harry opened the door and broke into a run, drawing confused looks from the crowd near the door. Many of them turned to watch, but were so stunned to see a fat guy with a rifle in their midst that nobody moved.
Jill stepped into the doorway and pitched the first cocktail softball style into the air, then the second. They rose, hung in the air, then dropped and shattered.
A high-pitched squeal arose from the crowd and someone yelled, “Fire! Fire!” as the crowd parted in the center, flames flickering in the dark gym. The crowd began to swirl and break, like a mosh pit, trying to escape the two areas of the floor that were now in flames.
From the stage, she heard Ed Rafferty yell, “What the fuck! Now! Start it now!” Rafferty yelled.
A change came over the crowd, twisting, spasming, gripping at their backs as if in horrible pain. Some fell to their knees and threw their heads back, howling. Others went straight to the floor, writhing like snakes. A middle-aged balding guy in a suit raised his hand in front of his face and watched it as the bones lengthened beneath the skin. All around Jill could hear popping and soft crunching and she realized with disgust that it was the sound of bones and joints rearranging themselves.
Not wanting to see anymore, she slammed the door and dragged the cans to the foot of the stairs. After unscrewing the caps, she heaved one, then the other onto the bottom step and them kicked them over, spilling the gasoline. It lapped across the floor and spread under the gym door.
She climbed to the landing and flipped the top of the Zippo. Then she tossed it into the puddle of gasoline and it lit with a whoosh, the wave of heat warming her face. Turning, she was ready to head to the balcony when she heard something coming down from upstairs.
Something big.
Son of a bitch.
Rafferty still had the old woman tied up, and that was in his favor, but if he didn’t get the situation in the gym under control, half of them would be roasted alive before anything could get started.
The fat one named Harry was rushing the stage, an automatic weapon gripped in his hands. Best think fast, Ed.
His people would be transformed shortly, and when they were finished, they could surround Harry and tear him to shreds if he ordered it. But that wasn’t what he wanted. The fat bastard and the rest of them had to die slowly, the way Rafferty had planned it. They would be tied to the crosses, slit open from crotch to chest and have their entrails ripped out before their eyes. That was how it had to happen.
Rafferty surveyed the crowd and saw that two of his followers had completed the change and had spotted Harry. He yelled, “Wait!” but they couldn’t hear him over the din in the gymnasium, so he removed his revolver and fired at one of them, winging it on the arm. The beast turned with fire in its eyes, ready to attack, until it saw who fired at it.
Rafferty met its gaze and motioned for it to come to the stage. With two quick strides, it was at the foot of the stage. Rafferty leaned down and said, “I want him alive.”
It grunted and then spoke to another creature in a series of clicks and snarls. The two of them started for Harry, but he saw them coming and raised the rifle. Firing on them, he scored two headshots, reducing their brains to black jelly.
“Shit,” Rafferty said.
Smoke clogged the air in the gym, and he could see plumes of it chugging under the door that led to the stairs. They’d obviously started a fire out there too, hoping to cut off the only escape route.
Harry was on the move again, his back to the wall, firing deadly bursts at the ones that had transformed and were leaping at him.
The creatures retreated from the center of the floor, now littered with burned corpses stacked on one another. The gasoline had spread, starting three smaller fires on the floor, and Rafferty knew he had to get them out of here before the whole Harvest was ruined. It was going up in flames, literally.
He fired a shot in the air. “Quiet!” he shouted. His voice echoed in the gym. His followers looked to the stage.
“Surround him,” he said, pointing to Harry.
Six of them formed a half circle around Harry, and his gaze darted back and forth between them and Rafferty, waiting. He still had the weapon trained on them, although he could never hope to kill six at once, even with an automatic.
“Give it up, boy. You tried to change the deal on me,” Rafferty said.
“You had no intention of keeping a deal with us,” Harry retorted.
“Oh, but I do. Drop the gun, put your hands on your head and you’ll be escorted up here. And then I let the old lady go. Hell, I’ll even call an ambulance for her.”
“You produce more bullshit than all the steers in Texas.”
“Don’t argue with me. You got ten seconds to drop that gun or I blow the little lady’s brains out her left ear.”
He had them either way. The fat one was surrounded, and Rafferty had just cranked up the leverage he already had by threatening the old woman. Jill would be found by one of his sentries, and then they would die as soon as he could get out of the building and away from the fire.
He was curious to see if Harry would be stupid and weak enough to drop the gun and surrender himself for the old woman. Rafferty found the whole thing quite amusing despite the smoke that was pouring under the main door and the ever-spreading flames.
There would be a way out of the gym for him, maybe by climbing up to the balcony. If worse came to worse, he could charge through the flames in the hallway. If he survived, his body might heal and restore the damage done by flames.
To his delight, Harry dropped the gun and placed his hands on his head.
He had them.
There was a red door coated with glossy paint in the cafeteria wall, the word DANGER painted in white letters. Matt let his curiosity get the best of him and tugged on the steel handle, hoping that it would swing open.
He heard someone coming in the corridor from where he had just come.
He heard sniffing. Trying to smell him out again. And it was close, almost at the end of the hallway.
He had to get out of here quickly, so he knocked on the door, expecting the ring of metal but surprised when it was thick wood.
Backing up, he aimed the nine-millimeter at the lock and fired twice, shredding wood and turning the lock into a gnarled lump. Then he yanked on the handle, the door jiggling but refusing to open.
Try turning the handle, stupid.
He did, and with a hard pull, the door popped open.
As Matt slipped into the service corridor, his pursuer reached the end of the hallway outside the boiler room. Shutting the door behind him, he hoped for another way out of the service hallway.
He moved through the gloom; a cobweb kissed his cheek, and Matt brushed it away. Three gray electric boxes lined the wall, with thick white cables running out of their tops and up the wall.
Matt felt his way along the coarse concrete wall, expecting the beast to crash through the door at any second. His heartbeat sped up for a moment when he thought there was no way out of the corridor except the way he had come in.
But his hand found a cool, smooth surface, a door.
Leaning into it with his shoulder, he pushed, stumbled and went through the doorway. He shut the door behind him, glad to have two doors between him and the pursuer, however flimsy. The creature that was after him had most certainly found the body in the cafeteria and would be out for blood.
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