The Complex (14 page)

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Authors: Brian Keene

BOOK: The Complex
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Pausing, Stephanie looks back at Shaggy. “You pulled the bookshelf over the hole in the wall?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Ignoring him, she turns her attention to Sam. “Maybe we should stack some of these boxes over the hole on this side? Help slow them down?”

“Good idea,” Sam agrees. “Turo and Shaggy, can you guys do that while we get started on the wall?”

Both men grumble about it, but nod, conceding.

“I’ll help,” Terri volunteers. “Caleb, you go with Mrs. Carlucci.”

“But I want to stay here,” he insists. “They’re my toys, Mom.”

“Do what I asked. It’s safer for you to go with them. Go on now.”

“Come on, Caleb.” Mrs. Carlucci takes the boy’s hand. “You can watch me dig through the wall.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Stephanie asks.

“My cats are alone, and we’ve got two more walls to go through before I can get to them. Stand back and watch me. I’ll out-dig all of you. I’ve got no time for nonsense.”

She winks, and Stephanie can’t help but smile at the old woman’s spirit—and her concern for her cats.

Caleb takes the elderly neighbor’s hand. “Do you think your cats are okay?”

“King, Queenie, and Princess have been pampered their whole lives. They’re sort of…soft. But Hannibal will take care of them. He’s a wily one.”

“Like the coyote?”

It takes Stephanie a second to understand the reference, but Mrs. Carlucci picks up on it right away. Chuckling, she leads Caleb out of the room. Stephanie turns and spots Terri, box in hand, watching her son go. There are tears in the young mother’s eyes.

Then there are tears in Stephanie’s eyes, as well.

“It’s going to be okay,” Sam tells them as they enter the other bedroom.

Stephanie nods, afraid that if she tries to speak, she might break down and wail instead. Her chest aches, and each heartbeat feels like a hammer blow. She thinks about her parents, and hopes they are okay.

Terri’s bedroom is much like Caleb’s, except that there are more boxes. A disassembled bed has been stacked against the wall, but there is no mattress or box spring. Stephanie assumes they must still be outside in the truck. The window holds another identical air conditioner.

“Stand back,” Sam says, approaching the far wall. “I’ll get us started.”

Mrs. Carlucci guides Caleb over to the window. Stephanie follows them. As she does, she realizes that the room isn’t as dark as it was a moment before. She glances at the window and sees a flickering light reflected in the glass. She leans her forehead against the window and peers outside. The smooth surface is cool against her skin, but there’s no time to enjoy the sensation. A naked woman is running across the yard with a red metal gasoline can. Crazies on both sides of her clear a path and cheer wildly. Stephanie’s eyes go wide as she sees another nude man trotting along behind the woman. He holds a blazing torch high over his head.

“Um, Sam?”

A solid thunk echoes as the axe blade strikes the wall.

“What, Steph?”

THUNK

“You might want to see this.”

He turns to look at her, axe half-raised for another blow. Then, shoulders sagging, he crosses the room.

“Better hurry,” Stephanie urges.

Sam stands next to her and peers out the window. “Oh, shit…”

“They’re going to light the car on fire,” Mrs. Carlucci says.

Sam nods. “And the complex will follow. Everybody stand back.”

He yanks back the curtains and raises the axe. Stephanie is about to ask what he’s doing, concerned that the mob in the backyard will spot the movement. Then Sam begins running the axe blade along the rubber molding between the air conditioner and the windowsill, slicing through it. The unit trembles as he does so. Stephanie notices the framed photograph Sam tucked into his waistband earlier. It looks like it is about to fall out. She’s about to mention it when he grunts with exertion. He slams the axe against each side of the air conditioner, smashing the plastic supports that bolt the unit to the wall. The air conditioner tilts forward, gouging the windowsill. The frame shakes.

“Give me a hand,” he grunts, glancing back at Stephanie.

She sets her knife and hammer aside, and glances out the window as she rushes to Sam’s side. Outside, the woman with the gas can has clambered up onto the roof of the car. As the other attackers cheer, she begins to unscrew the lid. The runner with the torch has almost reached the vehicle, as well.

“Push!” Stephanie digs her feet into the carpet.

The air conditioner groans, its metal casing squealing against the windowsill as she and Sam shove it free. Too late, Stephanie realizes that the unit is still plugged in. The black power cord snaps tight against the wall, and the air conditioner dangles for a second. Then, the cord rips free from the electrical socket and the air conditioner plummets below, followed by a sickening thud. The sound reminds Stephanie of after Halloween, when her parents would allow her to drop the starting-to-rot pumpkins off the porch roof.

She leans out the open window and peers below. The woman’s head looks much like those splattered pumpkins used to. It’s smashed flat, and spread out. Brains and blood and skull fragments are scattered like pumpkin seeds and pulp.

“Out of the way,” Sam barks, pushing forward.

He aims his pistol out the open window and fires two rounds at the torch runner. Both shots miss. The mob roars in anger. Gritting his teeth, Sam fires three more rounds. Over Sam’s shoulder, Stephanie sees the torch bearer fall. The flaming brand tumbles from his hand, setting the grass on fire. The naked people crane their necks upward, gnashing their teeth and glaring.

“They know we’re here now,” Stephanie mutters.

“Yes,” Sam shouts, running back to the wall, “they damn sure do. Let’s dig!”

Startled, Stephanie stifles a scream as Terri, Shaggy, and Turo run into the room, glancing around wildly.

“The fuck is happening?” Shaggy demands.

“They tried to set the building on fire,” Stephanie says.

“Those crazy motherfuckers in Sam’s apartment heard the shots,” Turo shouts. “They’re coming through, and them boxes ain’t gonna hold them.”

Sam attacks the wall, swinging with wild abandon. Stephanie starts to help him when she hears the boxes come crashing down in the other bedroom. Simultaneously, somebody begins pounding relentlessly on Terri’s front door.

“They’re in!” Stephanie rushes across the bedroom and slams the door. “Help me block it!”

Except for Sam, the others stand frozen with panic. Stephanie isn’t even sure they heard her.

“I’m through,” Sam yells, standing back from the hole. “Everyone hurry!”

This seems to snap them out of their stupor. They begin running for the wall.

Stephanie locks the door and stands with her back to it, hyperventilating. The walls shake as, out in the living room, the front door is smashed down. The apartment echoes with the sounds of pounding feet and wild, inarticulate cries. Seconds later, someone slams into the bedroom door. Shrieking, Stephanie runs away from it. The knob is jiggled violently, and the door rattles in its frame.

Orange light flickers from the open window as the fire in the yard slowly spreads. Stephanie smells smoke, and hears people roaring outside.

Sam ducks down and clambers through the hole in the wall. Mrs. Carlucci, Terri, and Caleb follow. All of them are screaming. Wide-eyed, Stephanie glances at Shaggy and Turo as more blows rain down upon the door.

“Go,” Turo says, nodding at the hole. “We got this shit! We’ll be right behind you.”

“But—”

Shaggy levels his gun at the door. “Hurry the fuck up, bitch!”

Stephanie hates herself for it, but in that moment, she finds herself hoping Shaggy will get killed in the next few seconds.

“It’s okay,” Turo assures her, perhaps noticing her hesitation. “Just go.”

Stephanie ducks her head low and crawls through the hole, emerging in her own spare bedroom. Then she turns to look into the other apartment. Sam rushes to her side and beckons at Shaggy and Turo.

“Come on, guys!”

“We’re good,” Turo insists. “Just—”

Terri’s bedroom door bursts open, slamming against the wall. The force and suddenness causes Shaggy to stagger backward toward the window. Tick Tock stands in the doorway, his bulk filling the space. He leers at them, drool running down his chin. There are bloody handprints smeared across his glistening, fish-belly white flesh. Stephanie spots an icepick in his left hand. The weapon seems very small in his massive fist. The handle is concealed beneath his sausage-like fingers.

Shouting, Turo lunges forward and swings his claw hammer at the giant. Still grinning, Tick Tock catches Turo’s wrist and yanks him closer. Before anyone can move, his left hand flicks forward with a speed that belies his size. He rapidly stabs Turo in both eyes. Blood and something that looks like watered down petroleum jelly dribbles down Turo’s cheeks. Then, Tick Tock pulls him out into the hall. Turo shrieks in agony as three more crazies charge through the door. Shaggy shoots two of them while screaming his friend’s name.

Something explodes next to Stephanie’s ear, startling her so badly that she drops her weapons. She realizes that it’s Sam, who is also firing into the onrushing horde. Four more naked people rush through the door, but their entrance is impeded by the bodies of their fallen comrades, allowing Shaggy and Sam to pick them off. Stephanie’s ears begin to ring. The gunshots are so loud that her teeth hurt. Sam shouts something at Shaggy, but she can’t hear what it is, even though he’s right next to her.

Shaggy raises his weapon and stalks toward the open door, stepping over the bodies. Stephanie sees him mouthing Turo’s name, and realizes that he’s yelling, but she’s still deafened by the blasts. There is a flash of movement from out in the hallway, and she catches a brief glimpse of Tick Tock’s Hello Kitty tattoo. Then, something like a misshapen soccer ball is flung into the room. It lands near Shaggy’s feet and rolls twice. It takes Stephanie a second to realize that the object is Turo’s severed head, which is still bleeding from the eyes and the frayed stump of a neck. The handle of the icepick juts from one of his ears.

It is followed a moment later by Turo’s penis and one of his hands. Gristle hangs from each, glistening in the dark. Stephanie’s eyes lock on the severed penis. It looks like some sort of small, hairless rodent lying there on the floor. Her nails dig into the carpet, as she fights the urge to vomit.

Turo’s other hand is flung into the room. After that comes something long and slick. At first she thinks it’s a sausage. Then she realizes it’s a part of Turo’s intestines.

Stephanie is aware of Sam clutching her arm, trying to pull her away from the hole, but she doesn’t move. She feels rooted to the spot. Her eyes dart from the dismembered body parts to the door and then to Shaggy. All of the fight seems to have gone out of him. He simply stares at his friend’s head in horror, his arm hanging limp at his side, gun pointed at the floor.

Stephanie’s ears are still ringing, but her hearing starts to return because the cries from out in the hall grow louder. Then she realizes it’s not cries, but taunts. The mob is jeering them.

Tick Tock points at Shaggy and laughs. Glowering, Shaggy raises his pistol. Before he can fire a shot, the behemoth moves aside and the horde pours into the room.

Shaggy shouts, “This ain’t over you fat fuck!”

He turns and dives out the open window, disappearing so quickly that it’s almost like he was never there.

Then, Stephanie and Sam scramble backward as the howling crowd rushes toward them.

Fourteen - Shaggy: The Yard

 

Shaggy belly-flops onto the roof of the car, knocking the air from his lungs. The pain is the worst thing he’s ever felt in his life. Stunned, he can only lay there for a moment, mouth hanging open, drooling all over the hot metal. He tries to breathe and finds that he can’t. Moving is just as difficult. Even seeing clearly is a struggle. In addition to the pain in his ribs, his back feels like it is on fire. He remembers scraping it against the windowsill as he jumped. He wonders how bad the wound is.

Finally, he draws breath—an exercise in agony. Shaggy moans, writhing. The car’s suspension squeaks and groans.

He closes his eyes and sees Turo’s penis landing on the floor in front of him again. It is only then that Shaggy realizes he is crying.

He opens his eyes again and finds enough breath to scream. The mob answers in kind. Panicked, Shaggy realizes that he’s dropped the Kimber. Struggling for air, he pushes himself up on his arms and knees, and glances around for it. He spies the .45 lying on the hood of the engine. He scrambles across the roof, fingernails screeching on the paint, and leans out over the windshield, desperately grasping for the weapon.

A naked man crawls onto the hood. His body shows the tell-tale signs of extended chemotherapy, and Shaggy wonders how he has the strength to move, let alone attack him. The man swings a brick, intent on smashing Shaggy in the head, but he grabs the attacker’s wrist with his left hand, stopping the blow. Shaggy can’t help but think of Turo and Tick Tock, who were just in a similar position only moments ago. The man’s skin feels like tissue paper. Shaggy squeezes, grinning as his fingers grind against bone. Then, his other hand closes around the handle of the gun. Still clutching the chemo patient’s frail wrist, he raises the Kimber, shoves it under the man’s chin, and squeezes the trigger. The top of the attacker’s head explodes like a volcano, showering Shaggy and the rest of the crowd at the front of the car in gore. Shaggy releases the man’s wrist and lets his limp form topple backward onto the hood. The man’s head is still spewing blood as he falls.

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