The Rabid: Rise (15 page)

“Oh no you’re not.”

“Bytes, a bullet or the zip ties, your choice?”

“I don’t think you’ll do shit.”

“Okay,” I pull the suppressor from my back pocket. Ruiz had let me keep it, along with the handgun after the raid. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use it, but Bytes is really pushing my buttons. “You’re running this car into the red, you really are,” I say as I begin twisting the suppressor onto the end of the muzzle. “You’re a remark or two away from catching one in the face.”

“
Okay, man, shit.”

“Lay on the ground and
put your hands behind your back.” I circle the table; my pistol trained on his bobbing head as he drops to his knees and prepares to go face down on the carpet.

Something catches my attention. A sound at the door. Something wiggling its way into the keyhole.

The guards? No, can’t be. They’re a loud bunch. I’d have heard them coming back a mile away. Plus, they didn’t suspect anything. They’d have knocked. Do they even have a key to this door?

Doubt it.

Ruiz isn’t the type, he likes to play everything close to the chest. The guards, they’re just attack dogs watching over a junkyard. They can’t work the gate. They growl and bite, but they’re on a leash.

It’s Ruiz. Has to be.

Katia must have told him.

“
Shh, don’t make a fucking sound!” I grab the data stick from the table and drop it into the bag. Bytes is on his knees, watching the door, hope flooding his eyes. He wants to cry out. He won’t. Not with the muzzle of my pistol so close to the side of his head.

I circle behind him
, placing him between Ruiz and myself. My pistol now aimed at the base of his skull. I watch, as the deadbolt turns right.

Time is moving slow. Agonizingly slow.

The lock stops.

The handle turns.

Slow at first, then faster, until the door is being pushed back on its hinges. Moonlight pools slowly across the floor, illuminating a small square of tile just beyond the doorframe. Then the carpet. Slowly, until it bathes the tabletops and the computer and Bytes on his knees, teeth chattering, the expectancy of salvation on his face. Then me, back to the wall, ready to shoot my way out.

The shape standing before me is not Ruiz.

No.

It’s a shape that I recognize well.

Katia.

She stands, traced by the moonlight at her back. Swords sheathed at her side.

She steps forward. “Tim...”

What happens next is a blur.

Bytes cries out, “Katia, help!” He swings back with one arm, knocking my pistol aside. His other hand has a gun.

Where the fuck did he get a gun?

Christ, I gave it to him. It’s the one I’d given to Loco. The one I’d left here as a
souvenir.

Is it loaded?

I can’t remember.

I see the gun. He’s
twisting his body, moving to jam the barrel into my gut. His finger is already curled around the trigger. He looks up into my eyes. His features are contorted with desperation.

I don’t think.

I just act.

I grab a fist full of his hair
, plant my gun beneath his chin, and pull the trigger.

There is a muffled pop followed by a wet splat. A warm spray covers my face as his brains evacuate the top of his head and spread across me and every other surface within a three foot radius.

I release his hair and let him slump lifelessly to the ground at my feet. I stumble backwards. Staring at my hands as if they’re not my own.

This gun...where the hell did this gun come from...and why is
my finger around the trigger?

Katia squeals. Her hands cupped across her mouth. She stutters across the room
, her knees weak. She looks to me and then to Bytes’ lifeless body and then back to me, as if she’s still trying to connect the two; the cause and the effect.

“What did you
do?” she rattles. “What the hell did you do?” She moves past me as if I’m not even there and falls on her knees beside Bytes. Her hands hover around him as if she wants to hold him, to lift him from the sticky mess slowly forming on the carpet around his head, but she doesn’t quite know where to begin.

“I...” I swallow hard. “He had...a gun. He was...trying...”

“You came here to steal.” She looks up at me, eyes wet, her voice dripping with anger. “You came here to take the drive. You pointed the gun. You caused this! Not him!”

I back up, smacking the wall with my head. I expect her to draw down on me. To slice me in half right there. I wouldn’t try to stop her. Not now. Not after this.

“You’ve got five minutes, Tim. I’m giving you five minutes to disappear from here. To disappear from my sight, forever. I’m giving you five minutes because of what we shared. But if I ever see you again, I will kill you. Do you understand me?” She’s calm now, or at least she sounds calm. Her voice is steady. The little warble is gone.

“Katia...”

“Say it!” She stands suddenly, her hands going to the hilts of her swords.

I stumble sideways,
falling over myself. “I...I understand...”

“Time starts now,” she sneers, turning her attention back to Bytes corpse.

I back slowly out of the room, picking the hard drive off the floor. I want to say something. Not sure what though.

Sorry for blowing your
friend’s head off.

My finger slipped.

...I love you Katia...

Once I hit the
balcony, I can hear the voices of the two guards returning from their sabbatical. I turn tail and run for the stairs, keeping the pistol in front of me, the bag, now heavy with loot, slaps hard against my chest.

My sense of purpose
is suddenly renewed.

Bethany will be waiting for me.

God, she better be.

It’s a short jog to the main parking lot. All is quiet. There is distant laughter from the rooftops above. Guards shooting the shit. Bored. Waiting for sunlight. I’m beyond their concern.

Still, at any moment, I expect the alarm to sound. To hear Katia screaming for help at the top of her lungs. To hear boots falling against the pavement behind me. Bullets being chambered. Calls for me to surrender.

All is
quiet around mechanical. The garage doors are closed. I move up to the side door and check the handle.

It’s unlocked.

Good girl, Bethany.

I move inside. Sticking to the shadows.

Across the tops of the vehicles I can see Bethany, right where I told her to be, sitting behind the wheel of the Humvee on the far side of the garage. She sees me too and flashes the headlights to signal me, just in case. It’s an unnecessary courtesy, but, I’m glad to see she’s on the ball.

“Did you do like I said?” I ask as
I jump into the passenger seat, out of breath. I unleash the bag from around my neck and toss it into the backseat on top of her
katana
.

“
Oh, my God! What happened?”

It takes me a second to figure out what she’s going on about. “I...Bytes...the blood isn’t mine...”

“Did you kill him? Oh, my God...you killed Bytes, didn’t you?” She looks like she’s about to leap from the Humvee and sound the alarm herself.

I grab her arm
, trying to calm her down. “No, listen to me. It’s not like that. He pulled a gun and I...things just got really fucking out of control. I need you though...right now...to stay really cool. Okay, we’re in the shit right now. Stay cool. You know me, okay. You know I wouldn’t just hurt someone. Shit just went bad.”

She’s not convinced. At all. Still, she grips the wheel and faces forward. She’s still with me.

“Did you do like I said?”

She gives me a firm nod. “Yeah, Tim, I flattened the tires on the other vehicles.”

“Good. Now, get us the hell out of here.”

She hits the button on the visor above her head and the garage door begins to slide up
, rattling on its tracks.

The parking lot before us is empty.

A good sign.

Just a few more minutes and all of this will be
in our rearview.

With the passage of
time, it’ll become like a fogged over lake. No reflections. Nothing familiar. Just background noise.

Bethany pulls out. Creeping. The damned engine growling like a
spear struck jungle cat.

“Slow and steady,” I urge, “slow and steady.”

“Front gate?” She is breathing in deep through her nose, trying to stay collected.

“No, back gate. Less guys. Less firepower.”

We inch through the lot, circling around speed bumps, avoiding rocking the chassis whenever possible. Bethany taps the gas just enough to keep us rolling and to keep the engine from revving. I hold the pistol between my knees. Bethany has hers propped up in the center console.

Ruiz lo
cked the rifles away after the raid.

I should have insisted on holding onto one for personal protection. I hadn’t been thinking. That’s my problem. Rarely do I think two steps ahead. If I thought two steps ahead
, I wouldn’t be sitting here soaked in blood with a pistol and a prayer to keep me warm. It’s too late to do a damn thing about it now. The armory is guarded very well and I’m done killing people for the evening.

“What do I do? Tim? W
hat do I do?” Bethany is patting the wheel, in a full blown panic.

Two guys are approaching us from the back gate
with rifles. They look perplexed, but they still manage to crack smiles as they come up on our windows.

The guy on Bethany’s side is wearing a blue beanie and has a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. He bops his knuckles once against the glass as white smoke escapes from his nostrils in brief spurts
, like miniature cannons going off on either side of his face. “Wind’er down.” The tone in his voice gives off the impression that this is just another boring chore in a long line and he’s anxious to get it over with.

Bethany looks to me for direction.

“Go ahead, it’s fine.”

She presses the switch and the motor
in the door whines as the glass descends and disappears from view. I follow suit with mine, dropping it all the way, keeping the gun propped between my knees.

“Ruiz didn’t say nothing about anyone
goin out tonight. Ain’t no one supposed to go beyond the gate after nightfall.” The man in the beanie removes a flashlight from his belt and blasts us with it.

I clear my throat nervously. “Yeah, it’s a last minute sort of deal.”

“Where to?” the man in the beanie asks, growing more suspicious by the second.

Bethany looks at me intently, hyperventilating, her eyes wide.

“It’s a...uh...food run. You know, we’re running low and...”

The man in the beanie cuts me off. “I haven’t heard anything about supplies
bein’ low. I’s over there today, everything looked healthy.”

“
Ain’t heard nothin’ about no food run neither,” the man on my side pipes up.

“Well...like I said, it’s...”

“Nah, kid, we’re gonna have to call this in. Come on and get out,” the man in the beanie says.

“Open it up.” The man on my side wraps his fingers around the door
handle.

I cock back and elbow him
in the nose. It crunches with the impact. “Lean back!” I yell. Bethany does as commanded and I fire three shots at the head of the man in the beanie. He drops to the pavement, the bullets just missing their mark and spiraling into the brick walls of the apartment building behind him. “Step on it!”

She slams the gas pedal and barrels towards the closed gate.

Bullets begin
plinking
against the body of the Humvee and deflecting off of the bulletproof glass.

“Ram it!”

She plows through the gate, knocking it right of its tracks and dragging it under the tires. It grinds and sparks against the pavement as we cut across the intersection. Bethany jerks the wheel hard left and sends the detached gate spinning off violently into a parking lot across the street.

The
crack
of gunfire quickly fades behind us as the two men begin calling for help.

God, Ruiz is going to be pissed.

However, that’s not my concern now. Let him fume. Let him come up with some other insane plot to damn all of humanity. At least, I won’t be a party to it.

Bethany
switches the headlights on, bathing the road in a silver glow as I watch the complex disappear in the rearview.

19

We t
ake shelter in a partially collapsed parking structure. After extinguishing the engine and settling in a bit, we crack open two cans of vegetables for a quick evening snack.

“So, what’
s the big plan, Tim?”

“I’m still working on that.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t figure something out before you blew Bytes’ head off and pretty much ruined the only good thing we had going in our lives?”

I hold my fork up, impaled green beans dangling precariously from the end, dripping juice onto my lap. “Give me a break, okay
. I don’t need to hear this shit.”

“You rip me from the only peace I’ve had in mo
nths and drag me back into hell and now you’re telling me that we don’t have any plans? That we’re just pulling all of this out of our asses? You expect me to just shrug my shoulders and go,
okay, Tim?
Guess what? This shit isn’t okay, Tim! Aren’t you the one that said we shouldn’t just go tossing ourselves into conflict unless we’re ready for it? I listened to you, you ass! I’m telling you, we’re not ready. We’re just floundering around, again!” She kicks the underside of the dash.

“You know what, if you don’t like it, feel free to hop out and walk back.”

She looks at me, flabbergasted. “Really? You’d let me walk back in the dark? In the cold? With God knows what lurking in the shadows?”

I
plop the green beans into my mouth and start rounding up another forkful. “Yeah,” I swallow, “at this point, I would. Do you think Momma is comfortable right now? Weren’t you the one that gave me the big speech about how she wouldn’t just leave us out there. Now look at you. You got comfortable and so now, what, you just want to forget about her?”

She shakes her head and turns her can
of beans in her hands, the plastic fork rattling against the sides. “That’s not fair.” The volume of her voice lowers considerably. “Not fair at all. Do you think she’d want us out here like this or do you think she’d want us safe? Those words sound familiar?”

I finish the last of the beans and drop the empty can onto the
floorboard. “That’s not all this is about. You know that. What Ruiz was going to do was wrong. We had to stop him. Period.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Really,” I snap, “do tell, how do you see it?”

She shrugs indifferently. “I see that we were safe and comfortable. This world is screwed anyway. We’re all going to die screaming at some point. If Ruiz can do something to make the assholes responsible suffer just a li
ttle bit more, then that’s fine by me. I’d have rather died with a roof over my head. Instead, here I am, eating cold beans and sleeping in the front seat of the most uncomfortable vehicle ever made, again!”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine,” I snort.

“You’re just delusional, Tim. But what else is new?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, let’s just go to sleep so we can wake up and get on with this nightmare.”

“No, I
wanna hear it. If you’re going to talk shit, then go ahead and back it up.”

She tosses the can onto the dash. It tips over, spreading bean juice and sending the fork spiraling down into the crack where the windshield meets the dashboard. “Okay, you really want to do this?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Fine, you’ve always been delusional.” She holds up a hand and begins counting off on her fingers. “The whole dance thing
; let me clue you in on that, you not winning had nothing to do with people having poor taste, you just sucked. The thing with Katia, it wasn’t love, bro, it’s called a lack of options. And this whole obsession with getting Momma back, newsflash, she’s fucking dead!”

I raise my hand and she recoils against the door. I catch myself. Tears in my eyes. Heart thumping against my chest. My breath shallow and fast. “Get the fuck out!”

She fumbles for the door handle, whimpers, and stumbles out of the Humvee. She slams the door and stalks off across the slanted parking structure.

I watch her go
, pushing down the urge to call for her. I roll over in my seat and shut my eyes, tears sneaking from between my lashes and falling silently onto the seat.

Minutes pass.

Hours pass.

At any
moment, I expect her to return.

I’ll apologize.

She’ll apologize.

We’ll move on like nothing happened.

She doesn’t return. The sting of what she said doesn’t subside. It sits there like a rock in my chest.

Sleep never comes. I just toss and turn. The tears
switch on and off at random, and before I know it, the sun rises and the new day begins.

Bethany is nowhere to be found.