The Rabid: Rise (2 page)

3

I began breaking locks early, just as the sun was spreading itself across the wasteland like a creeping blanket.

Today is no different
from yesterday. Hard work followed by disappointment.

I’m leaning against the window and wiping the sweat from my forehead while Bethany sifts through the contents of the latest shed.
“So, I was thinking, once we finish up here...”

“
When will that be?” she asks.

“
I don't know, two, maybe three more days?” I give my beaten down ten gallon a quick once over before plopping it back on my head.

Bethany nods.
“Sounds good to me. That pile of clothes worked out better than I thought.”

“
Yeah, it wasn't bad.” We might not be able to wear the clothes, but they sure made a hell of a bed last night. “But, I was thinking, if we don't find the guns we're looking for here, we could hit the next few exits, look for a big box store, maybe try one of those again.”

She shakes her head.
“Every single one has been a bust so far. That's the first place people went. Not worth the risk. We hit Rabid every time.”

We've
only tried it once, but I understand her sentiment. “It's something, maybe we'll get lucky.”

“
Or maybe we'll end up using the little ammo we have left trying to keep our asses from getting bit.” Bethany stands and starts pawing over the other boxes in the unit. “No way Tim, stupid idea. We need to go further out. Find some little pawnshop in the middle of hickville, hope that people missed it when the shit hit the fan. We'll find guns there, and if not there, then maybe the houses around there. No more big box stores.”

When did Bethany start making more sense than me?

She bites her lip and furrows her brow as she opens one box and peers in, her dark hair falling delicately across her face. She rummages through the box quickly and tosses it to the floor, moving onto the next. “Are you going to say something?”

“
You're right, not sure what to say. You're right and I'm wrong.”

“
Are you being sarcastic?” She wrinkles her face at me.

I hold my hands up in surrender.
“Absolutely not, I'm completely serious. That's actually a really good idea.”

She nods suspiciously and
brushes her hair back from her face. “Well, glad to hear you admitting it.”

“
Bad part is we may be going further out from Momma, if she's still in the city.”

“
Well, it's like you said, we can't do anything for her like this, we'll get ourselves killed. Plus, you said they won't leave the city, not without the cross, so we can always come back when we're ready.”

I shrug.
“I mean, yeah, I obviously can't be one hundred percent positive, but, when you think about it, it makes sense.”

“
Well, okay then,” she says, settled on the matter.

Bethany taking the initiative feels good.
She's come a long way from being the little girl that was clinging to my side as the world crumbled around us. There is toughness in her voice, a certainty that's recently blossomed and I'm just now taking notice. Our relationship is evolving from protector and protected, to one of equals. I've got her back and I'm starting to believe she's capable of having mine. I may not always be able to stand on the front lines for her. Every day is a new day; a new day to live or a new day to die. Should my time end, should she be left in the ruins to fight alone, my body will rest easier knowing she's capable; capable of deciding for herself, capable of pointing the gun and pulling the trigger. She's got some more hardening over to do, some angles that she still can't fully see, but she's come a long way from being the little girl running drills in the living room, flinching every time Bo would yell or curse at her mistakes. She's come a long way from crying and pouting, from complaining about cramped spaces and dull food. Losing Momma practically changed her overnight, forcing her to choose. She could grow up or drown in the sorrow of it all. I'm glad she’s chosen to grow up. I'm not sure how long I'd have been able to carry both of us.

“
Hey, sis...”

“
Yeah?” She looks up from the box she's tunneling through.

I want to tell her I'm proud of her. Tha
t I love her. That, right now, she's all I've got and I can’t imagine having to do all of this without her by my side.

The wall behind me explodes.

I am off my feet, flying through the air, an immense pressure and heat at my back...carrying me. I bounce off the shed beside Bethany. The world becomes static and then I hear the gunshots.

4

I'm on the
ground beside Bethany, coughing as smoke fills the air around us. There is still debris coming down on top of our heads; mostly disintegrated ceiling tiles and mortar from the wall that has just been blown apart.

I have a vague notion that we are being attacked.

That I need to get Bethany up and pull her into cover.

My gun...

I need to grab my gun.

Bullets whip and crack above my head.

Clarity!

“
Bethany, get up, come on!” I grab her under one arm, retrieving the Ruger at the same time.

A
nother burst of gunfire fills the hall and splashes into the shed door beside us; the metal reverberates like a drumhead. I drag Bethany with me towards the end of the hall, straight towards the smoldering hole in the side of the building. I duck right, just as another volley of gunfire careens towards our backs. There is a cement column at the end of each row of sheds, dividing the halls. It's narrow. Just wide enough for me. I hold Bethany tight against my chest as I throw myself against it, one arm curled around her lower back, the other tucked by my side, clutching the Ruger.

“
Sis, are you okay?” I look down at her face. White powder from the disintegrated ceiling tiles clings to her hair.

She nods
rapidly, pulling the P-32 from the waistband of her jeans. “Yeah, I'm fine. I've got bells in my ears.”

“
Me too.” I pull her in closer and inch my head across her right shoulder, trying to see through the hole, trying to get a glimpse of the parking lot below.

I don't want to expose myself too much.

They've probably got shooters down there waiting.

God forbid they lob another explosive through the breach.

We're fucked if they do.

The tail end of a pale brown Humvee comes into view
. Then there is the gunner’s nest in the center, and the .50 barrel aimed directly at my head.

I slam myself back against the wall as the dull
:::thunk::::::thunk:::thunk:::
of gunfire rips through the air and sends high caliber bullets whizzing towards my face.

“
Motherfucker!” I yell.

White
flashes cut across my field of vision as the tracer rounds zoom up from below, missing us by inches, embedding themselves overhead, tearing the ceiling down on top of us. Behind us the hollow pop of sub-machine gun fire kicks up again, chipping away at our cover, slicing off jagged pieces of cement and lobbing them at my cheek.

We’re fucked both ways. They’ve got us pinned down solid.

I blind fire three shots in the general direction of our attackers. “Fuck you!”

The attack only seems to grow more ferocious in the face of my aggression.

The strings of gunfire weave together until I'm no longer able to tell them apart; where they begin, where they end. They wrap themselves up and around our necks, strangling the air from our lungs.

Just as the surface
threatens to disappear from view a disembodied voice breaks through the madness.

“
Cease fire!”

The order echoes its way down
the chain and into the parking lot below.

“
Cease fire!”

“
Cease fire!”

“
Hey, Captain says to cease fire!”

I straighten my legs up.

Dare to breathe.

The air is still heavy with smoke and powdered building fragments.

I hack and spit.

I check Bethany.

She's rubbing a hand across her eyes, the P-32 hanging loose at her side.

“
Hey, kid, it's Captain Dwyer, Army, Special Forces.”

“
Are you Captain Styles’ replacement? You heard what I did to him, right?” I'm tensed up, ready for the pandemonium to break loose again.

“
I am no replacement. I am simply Captain Styles. Whatever you did. Whoever you killed. Better a bullet than a bite, I say.”

“
Well, Dwyer, he was a bit of an asshole, you've got some pretty big shoes to fill.”

There's the sound of cast off shells clinking against one another like broken glass as boots shuffle and positions are
changed.

Coming in closer?

Moving further away?

Taking up
vantage points that are more advantageous?

There's no way I'm exposing my head long enough to find out.

“Listen here, there's only two ways this is going down...”

“
Oh boy, the old tough guy book of clichés, exciting. Let me guess, we give up, or you kill us. Creative, really, I'm shivering.”

“
Listen up and listen good, you little shit. I've got a couple of the best goddamn crack shots in the business. Right now you've got two Seals and a Ranger staring down their sights at you. We've even got a Delta boy out there on that .50. Cliché or not, that's the score. So yeah, you've got two options.”

Think Timmy, think.

Two ways out.

The hole in the wall or the s
tairwell.

Both are covered up
, thick.

The bastard is right.

We're dead, either way.

Go down shooting
or give them the satisfaction of dragging it out nice and slow.

But Bethany...

“So, Seals, Delta, and a Ranger; it's really nice to see everyone coming together during these hard times.” I check the magazine on the Ruger and find seven rounds left.

“
These aren't fellas to be trifled with, son.”

“
Well, I'm still kicking, Captain. Count me unimpressed. Have the asshole outside launch a few more rounds in. There are still a few ceiling tiles left.”

“
Throw out the cross and we'll let you and your sister go.”

The words juggle around in my throat before appearing on my tongue.
“No idea what you're talking about.”

“
There's no room for bullshit kid, we've already identified the item we're looking for and have confirmed that it's in your possession. Throw it out and we can all walk away from this.”

“
What if he's telling the truth, Tim?” Bethany tugs at the back of my shirt, looking up at me, her eyes wide, her face covered in dust and plaster.

“
He's not.”

“
But what if he is?” She says, trying to pull away from me.

“
Bethany, shut up, okay, just shut up for a minute.”

“
You can trust us, kid. We're men of honor. You know what it means to be a man of honor, don't you?”

“
Trust you? You just tried to kill us, you jack-ass.”

“
It was a show of force, nothing more. A shot fired over the deck, just to get your attention and now we've got it.”

The
image of their bullets flying past my sister’s head is still a fresh wound for me. “Yeah, you've got my attention.” I cock my arm around the corner and fire off two more rounds, retracting quickly in the face of the synchronous
pop-pop-pop
reply of the submachine gun fire.

“
Cease fire, cease fire!”

The settling of shells.

The sound of a magazine being ejected and a fresh one being loaded.

“
You listen here, you little shit. Your run is over. This is it. Make it easy on yourself. Throw out that cross along with any and all weapons or we will kill you and that little bitch.” 

I
know it's over. That I am just stalling the inevitable. I always told myself that if it ever came to this that I wouldn't be like the other pathetic bastards; clinging and clawing to life. That I'd go out and stand tall and face my fate like a man.

It's not that easy though.

The reaper is knocking at the door.

Hard.

I'm giving him every excuse I've got, but, he’s growing impatient.

Be right there,
fixing my tie, gimme one minute.

I can't ward him off much longer.
He’ll break through and take me.

Worse...

he’ll take her.

Ready or not, here I come.

“I'm ready Tim.” Bethany is looking up at me. Her eyes are glossy but her voice is steady.

“
Ready?”

“
To go down fighting. They're going to hurt us, bad. It's better to go down fighting. Better for it to be quick.”

“
No, Bethany, don't you dare!”

Bethany is holding her gun. Checking the magazine. Pulling back the slide.
“Tim, I love you, but there's no getting out of this.” I can feel her trying to pull away. “I love you, Tim.”

“
Stop, stop, no, Bethany!” She's wriggling. Clawing my one arm from around her waist while warding off the other with the back of her gun hand. “I love you, please, stop!”

When did I start crying?

When I realized that there was no stopping her?

When
I realized that I'd just held my sister for the last time?

She’s
standing in the hallway now. Raising her weapon. Answering the knocking at the door.

“
I love you, Tim,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

My knees buckle. I can't reach her. I can't save her. Not this time.

That submachine gun
pop
pulls the oxygen from my lungs once more.

Sinister
.

Like some
tiny blade trying to sink its tip into a vital organ.

There is the thud of bodies.

I'm screaming.

Arms
reaching.

Bethany...

She’s still standing.

Gun outstretched.

Mouth wide with disbelief.