H10N1 (28 page)

The plan was to wrap things up today. Make sure everyone was on board with their duties, especially Carol, then load up the pick-up and start driving once the sun was down. Rick had secretly confiscated all the coffee packs he’d pilfered at the Starbucks. Judith insisted they not take anything from the farm, but hey, coffee wasn’t really food.

Kneeling next to a tomato plant, Rick pinched off the sucker shoots like Judith had shown him. Someday, if he was lucky, Rick would have a son or daughter. And he’d show them how to tend a garden. He’d teach them not to waste water, and to be kind to others.

“Well, well, well.” A familiar voice called down from above. “Look at all the busy little bees.”

Rick could hardly believe what he was hearing. He turned and looked up at the catwalk. Michael! How the hell did he get back in?

That must have been the question on everyone’s mind, because they all stopped what they were doing and stared in disbelief.

“Surprised?” Michael leaned on the railing. “Did you really think you could get rid of me? This is
my
Biosphere! And I’m taking it back.” He slapped the metal rail. Jesus, he looked like some two-bit dictator, screaming at infidels.

Rick moved next to Sanchez. “Has he gone completely around the bend?”

She nodded. “He’s definitely lost touch with reality.”

“And make no mistake,” Michael bellowed down at them. “There are going to be some changes around here.”

“I don’t see how he could work any less than he already was,” Rick said loud enough for Michael to hear. Then he yelled up at him. “Sorry, buddy. I didn’t know you were coming back. I already deleted your secret agent guinea pigs game.”

Devin bellowed out an exaggerated guffaw.

“Always quick with the humor, aren’t you, Rick?” Michael puffed out his chest, and struck a manly pose with his hands on his hips. “Let’s see how much you’re laughing when I put the moves on the delectable Doctor Sanchez.”

“You son-of-a-bitch.” Rick sprinted toward the stairs, but Devin grabbed his arm and pulled him up short.

“Hang on,” Devin muttered. “First things first.” Then he turned to Michael and bowed. “My hat’s off to you, Michael. I didn’t think you were smart enough to find a way back in.”

“I’m not clever, Devin,” Michael said. “You’re stupid.” He pulled his PDA off his belt. “Didn’t any of you morons stop to think that I might be able to still communicate with my computers and turn the lasers off?” He threw his head back and laughed like a hyena. “My God, you people are idiots!”

“No, Michael.” Devin booked it for the stairs, while Judith made a beeline for the doors at the garden level. “You’re the idiot.”

But just as Judith got to the doors, they burst open, and two cowboys with semi-automatics stepped out.

Michael’s shrieking laugh echoed in the glass dome. Rick looked up to see a blond bitch in tight jeans and a halter-top standing next to Michael. On his other side was a beefy dude in a loose-fitting, short-sleeved shirt and slacks—not cargo shorts or jeans—black slacks. He looked like Tony Soprano in a cowboy hat.

“Oh, if this isn’t a Kodak moment,” Michael laughed. “You should see your faces.”

The two cowboys downstairs looked like typical recruits. Billy Bob was maybe in his early twenties, and full of unspent energy; his eyes flinched, his jaw twitched, his whole body seemed to be set on “vibrate.” He’d probably never gunned down another man, but he couldn’t wait for a chance.

Bubba had Billy Bob by fifty pounds and a few decades. He looked like the kind of guy who bred fighting dogs and regularly beat his wife.

Rick didn’t think Judith could take both cowboys out at once; not with that much fire power and no diversion.

Upstairs with Michael, Tony Soprano had his own semi-automatic trained on Devin. Had Michael tipped off his Rent-a-Thugs to keep a close eye on Dev?

Rick hoped Devin was checking out their weaponry. All Rick knew was that they sure looked locked and loaded. Shit!

Michael told Tony to get everyone into the game room. Only Tony didn’t look too happy at being told what to do. He gave Blondie a scowl and she gave him a shrug. Rick didn’t know what the big changes were that Michael talked about, but from the looks of those two, they weren’t going to include Michael.

Billy Bob and Bubba held their post at the lower doors, waiting for Tony and Blondie to tromp down the stairs and round up the rest. Somewhere along the line, Michael managed to slip away. Was he going to see if Rick had really dumped his games?

Devin and Judith seemed eager to cooperate. They were the first at the doors. Unfortunately, the cluster fuck jumped a level when Billy Bob opened the doors, and Rick spotted four more desperados in the downstairs hallway; two women who looked like they might have joined Manson’s clan if they’d only been around back then—the glazed eyes, the stringy hair; and two guys who looked like their last job was riding on the back of a garbage truck. They were even wearing jumpsuits. Everyone had their own lethal weapon, and from the bulges in their pockets, plenty of extra clips.

As the Biospherians shuffled into the game room, Devin split right, Judith veered left, skirting the pool table to the far side of the room. They were scanning through the windows. Checking to see how many reinforcements might be outside?

Devin slipped three fingers down the side of his leg. Three more. Judith thumped a fist against her thigh. No one in her field of vision.

Shit, that meant eight inside, and at least three more out. Bubba and Billy Bob scurried across the room to keep tabs on Judith and Devin. Tony and Blondie parked on either side of the entrance to keep the rest of the group in line.

With a swagger, Michael stepped into the doorway, planted his feet and cupped his hands behind his back. Before Rick could stop himself, he let out a snigger. Michael had run to his apartment and changed into a clean Biosphere jumpsuit.

Tony gave Rick a shove for the insubordination, knocking him into the pool table.

Carol chose that particular moment to question Michael’s sanity. She got right in his face and asked, “Have you lost your mind, you dip-shit? These goons will have your balls hanging from their dashboard—.”

Tony raised his gun and capped Carol right in the head. She’d been standing close enough that Rick not only felt the blood splat on his face, but chips of skull, too. Her body flew backwards right into Michael.

“Hey!” Michael screamed. “If you want to shoot someone, shoot her!” He pointed to Judith.

The Manson girls stepped around Carol’s body and came into the room. Michael was temporarily sidetracked, inspecting the bloodstains on his uniform. Was he thinking of going upstairs to change again?

Then after one final swipe at the stains, Michael redirected his attention to Tony.

“We’re still missing two,” Michael said. He turned to the Manson girls. “You’ll find the little tramp in Apartment Six.”

The women looked at Tony for confirmation. He gave them a nod and they trotted up the main staircase. Did Michael have any idea how much trouble he was in? Evidently not, because he ordered the two sanitation workers down to the basement to fetch John. More shifty stares.

Michael turned to Sanchez. “While we’re waiting, shall I introduce our new guests?”

She gave him a slight nod.

“The gentleman to my left is Jake, and this is his woman, Lisa.”

“Hello, Lisa.” Sanchez’ voice was calm. “I’m not sure what Michael has told you, but at the present time, our garden is not producing much besides sweet potatoes and a few beans. We are starving. There will not be enough food to feed your group, even if you get rid of all of us.”

“Oh, Taeya.” Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Don’t be so negative. I’ve got the perfect solution. You see, Jake’s crew runs Tucson. They round up supplies from all over this area. But they’ve had a problem with gangs pilfering their warehouses while they’re out gathering. They have the food, but not the security.”

Michael’s hand rubbed up and down Sanchez’ arm as he spoke. Rick had to reach behind and grip the rail of the pool table to keep from leaping on him.

“Whereas,” Michael continued, “I have the security of high-tech lasers, and a huge warehouse-type facility, but little food. Brilliant bartering, wouldn’t you say?” The prick eased in, trying to kiss Sanchez, but she elbowed him and jerked away.

Now Rick might have been able to get Michael in a strangle hold before Blondie shot him in the back. Hell, he might even succeed in choking Michael to death before Rick died of his own wounds. But then he’d be gone, and Sanchez would still have to contend with Jake, Billy Bob, Bubba, and the garbage collectors. Shit!

Michael wrenched Sanchez’ arm behind her back, then wrapped his free arm around her neck and pulled her ass against his crotch. “You don’t seem to get it yet, Doctor Sanchez. Your boyfriend, and his two loser friends are goners. However, you are staying as my very own love slave. I’ve even decided to let Mai and Kat stay. They ought to be good for a few laughs, eh Jake?”

“I don’t know, Mike.” Jake sauntered over to Sanchez and ran his index finger slowly down her neck and between her breasts. “I’m thinking I might want this prime cut for myself. What do you think, Lisa?”

The blond bitch licked her lips. “She looks real tasty, Jake.”

“No way, man,” Michael said. “That wasn’t the deal.”

Jake sucked air through his teeth. “Well, you know, I’ve always been known as kind of a deal breaker.”

Blondie slowly raised her gun and Michael got this wide-mouthed, bug-eyed expression right before she blasted him in the face. He keeled over backwards. Sanchez cried out and dropped to her knees.

“Hey, Snoop Dog,” Tony, aka Jake, yelled at Devin. “Get your hands on top of your head. You too, Butch.” He waved his gun at Judith.

The shootings had Billy Bob gyrating, a big buck-toothed grin on his face. Tony reamed him out for slacking, so he inched closer to Judith. His gun was shaking. Bubba brandished his own gun and Devin laced his fingers on the top of his head.

When Rick stooped to help Sanchez, Jake drove him back with a gun butt to the kidneys. Writhing in pain, Rick dropped to his knees. Sanchez screamed and caught the butt’s back swing in the jaw. Blood gushed from her mouth as she fell to the floor.

Reaching down, Jake caught Rick by the ponytail. “Watch it, pretty boy. You’re next.” Then he stepped on Rick’s back, driving him onto the carpet.

Suddenly, a squawking chicken sailed into the room, wings flapping, feathers flying.

Jake fired twice and the chicken crash-landed on the pool table.

From his vantage point on the floor, Rick watched Devin drive a palm into Bubba’s jaw. As the guy teetered, Devin slid a hand down Bubba’s arm, wrapped his fingers over Bubba’s, and brought the gun up to the man’s chin. Blam! More gray matter on carpet.

At the same instant, Judith brought a knee up into Billy Bob’s crotch. As he doubled over, she snatched his gun and shot Jake right between the eyes.

Hell, the least Rick could do was help. He kicked the legs out from under Blondie. As she tumbled, Sanchez actually lurched forward, grabbed a tangle of Blondie’s hair and drove her face into the thick leg of the pool table.

When all the shooting started, Mai dropped to her hands and knees. But as Billy Bob lay writhing on the floor, he managed to pull a second gun from his boot. He shot at Mai as she tried to crawl to safety under the pool table. Rick watched Mai’s body jerk twice before Judith lowered her gun and plugged the kid in the back of the head.

Sanchez scrambled for Mai. Rick figured she was a goner, but he let Sanchez have a moment. They had worse problems; all that shooting would surely bring those bozos running from outside. Had the women upstairs heard, too?

Blondie was moaning on the floor next to Rick. He’d love to leave her for Judith or Devin, but he knew they had their hands full. Windows shattered as the outside reinforcements took potshots at them.

Slipping Blondie’s gun from her hand, Rick scooted his butt along the carpet to block Sanchez’ view. Blondie was struggling to her knees, while her right hand fumbled at her belt. Another gun? A knife?

Rick’s sweaty hands tingled. His lips felt numb. The ringing in his ears made everything sound far away. It was one thing to shoot at someone who was firing back. Or to defend a friend. But this was cold-blooded. Aiming the gun, he closed his eyes, and when he heard another volley of gunfire at the windows, he popped Blondie.

Twisting around, he checked to see if Sanchez had witnessed. She had Mai’s head in her lap and she was hugging her lifeless body.

Across the room, Devin stood at the wall between two windows. He poked his gun out, fired twice, and retreated. Judith watched from her position between two different windows. They were trying to catch someone outside as they fired back. But they appeared to be in a stalemate.

Funny how the strangest thoughts occur at the craziest times. Rick contemplated all the blown out windows, and wondered how he and John were going to fix them. Would they have to seal off the room?

Rick heard shuffling out in the hallway. Here came the Manson girls from upstairs. Perching his wrists on his knees, Rick aimed his gun at the door with both hands. A dim shadow wavered over Carol’s body. Rick tightened his finger on the trigger and counted silently to keep his mind off what was coming.

John’s head poked around the corner, close to the floor.

“Shit!” Rick gasped. Every nerve ending in his body tingled. “Get in here, man!”

Crawling on hands and knees, John scooted into the room and slammed his back against the wall. A rush of relief ran through Rick that brought tears to his eyes.

“Goddamn! I thought you were dead, man.” Rick’s hands shook so hard he nearly dropped his gun. “How did you get out of the basement?”

“I wasn’t in the basement,” John whispered back. “I was feeding the chickens.”

“Did you throw that hen in here?”

John nodded as he gasped for air. He did not look good.

“Hey, jerkwad,” Judith snarled. “We could use some help here.”

Poor John. The thought of handling a gun made him go pale.