Time Clock Hero (14 page)

After dinner – Alaia had brought a couple bags of frozen entrees over, things like barbecue and stuffed chicken breasts – Phoenix remembered his pack and the chocolate Kellogg’s bars.  He left Alaia and Darkeem in the kitchen and retrieved the pack, which he left sitting on the floor of his old office.  When he returned to the kitchen, he opened it; and he remembered the small, round case that Chief Cobb had set down in his cell only moments before Phoenix had shot him.  Alaia paid no attention to the strange box as she busied herself with clean up.

Phoenix handed a Kellogg’s bar to Darkeem, then he opened the case.  Inside, he found a chrome virtual-reality headset, or a halo, one not unlike those used by gamers, but different than anything he’d ever seen.  He left it in the case, still wrapped in protective plastic, and he lifted the box to get an idea of its weight.

“Alaia?”  Phoenix said.  “Do you recognize this?”

“Can’t you see I’m cleaning up after you?”

“I will admit that you’ve cleaned up after me more than you deserve,” Phoenix said.  “And yes, you deserve my old job.  But just come over here, okay?”

Alaia stopped washing the plates.  Her hands were covered with soap suds, but she came over to the small wooden table where Phoenix and Darkeem were sitting.  She looked at the round, black case and squished her eyebrows together.  “If that’s one of those things for men, you know, that goes with the doll, I don’t want to know about it.”

“I would guess this is for anybody.”  Phoenix carefully lifted the device out of the box.  He removed the plastic bag from around it, noticing that it had been cut with scissors, and saw that it was attached by a wire to a round, flat, dark object about the size of a portable hard drive.  He removed everything and set the whole contraption on the table.  “This is what Cobb brought into my cell before I killed him.”

“Yeah, I remember seeing him with this,” Alaia said, “but it didn’t really register.”

“He brought it for a reason.  A man coming into my cell to kill me isn’t going to bring something he doesn’t need.  This looks like a virtual reality headset.  I don’t use these things, but I’ve seen them before.  And this one doesn’t quite look like the others I’ve seen.”

“Look for a name, or a serial number, and we’ll look it up when I ‘m done,” Alaia said.  “And look at how it shines.”

Phoenix held it up to the fluorescent lights, angling it carefully, trying to keep from pulling on the wire that connected it to the hard drive.  “I can’t see a name or anything.  But this metal – it’s got a bluish white cast to it.  Maybe silver.  It doesn’t look like a cheap headset.”  He looked at Alaia, who was now hanging over him, and he looked into her shirt, pausing for just a second as her cleavage nearly toppled out into his face.  Alaia saw him looking.

“I know you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?”  She straightened up and pulled her shirt.  “Darkeem, you need to meet me in my office.  So why don’t you run up there.  I’ll bring up some popcorn and we’ll put in a movie in a few minutes.”

Darkeem smiled, got up, and ran out of the kitchen.

“No, I wasn’t … I need your silver necklace,” Phoenix said.  “You’re wearing one.  Can you take it off, please?”

“My necklace or my clothes?”

Alaia bent over again, leaning forward and raising her chin, right in front of Phoenix.  He reached into her shirt with a smirk on his face and hesitated.  He wasn’t about to reach in and free the necklace from between her two, magnificent---

“If you want it, you’re just going to have reach out and take it,” Alaia said.  “I’ve got soap on my hands.”  She shook her upper body magnificently, and her breasts, firm and not overly large, nearly flying free of their tight, almost shear cups, swung from side to side.  The necklace dropped out.

Phoenix reached up and around her neck, unfastened the catch, and removed the braided, silver necklace.  A small pendant, probably onyx, was its only ornament.  Alaia stood up.  He laid the necklace against the headset and held it up to the light.  “Okay,” he said.  “This headset isn’t silver.  It’s platinum.  See the bluish cast?   And it weighs about two pounds – much too heavy for a virtual reality headset, wouldn’t you think?”

“Two pounds of platinum?”  Alaia responded excitedly.  “And platinum sells for over a thousand dollars an ounce, times thirty-two, and that thing has a metal value of thirty-two thousand dollars, not including the technology.”

“This isn’t for kids games or men who do virtual porn, that’s for sure,” Phoenix said.  “We need to do a web search on platinum virtual reality headsets.  Can we make that happen?”

“You mean, ‘can I make that happen’?”  Alaia shot back.  “I’ll try, but I doubt if I can focus, especially after you’ve been reaching into my shirt trying to undress me.”

“No, Alaia, I just unchained you.”  Phoenix smiled, he handed the chain back to Alaia.  “There, I’ll let you put it back on.”

“Gee, that was quick. Is it time to smoke yet?”

There was laughter coming from Phoenix’s old office.  He’d just finished checking the vault downstairs, securing the doors, and now he’d just come up to the second floor via the stair well.  He stopped and smiled.  The movie must have been a good one – he could hear Alaia and Darkeem laughing.

The remaining officers, five of them, were gone for good – so they told him before they left the building.  Their decision came as no surprise to him.  If he’d had a family, and he’d learned the military had just bombed the prison, he would’ve left Nashville, too.  He would have just loaded everyone up and headed south for Decherd where his uncle lived in the woods.  Or maybe Beech Grove, Monteagle, or Sewanee.  Anywhere but here. 

Single officers, officers without families, had gone earlier, either joining up with the National Guard units, or they had simply changed out of their uniforms during the riots and slipped away to join up with their community self-protection groups.  

As far as NPD was concerned, the main office on Harding Place was now empty and no longer open for official business.

But that also meant Phoenix was free to do as he chose.

He quietly walked over to his office, stepping lightly in his boots, and slowly looked in on Alaia and Darkeem.  Alaia had set up Chief Cobb’s flat screen on the window ledge, along with its surround sound system, and she’d dropped the solid white window shades completely, shutting out the darkness.  No need to talk business, he thought – Alaia had probably already found all she could on the internet regarding the headset.  Better to let them laugh a little.  Let them laugh all night if the mood struck them.  By morning, Nashville would be empty of anybody decent – and the streets would probably be left to the looters and gangs.  The Guard troops would be here.  They’d use the opportunity to hone their skills, engage in a little martial law-style target practice, then become gangs themselves if this thing got out of hand.

Phoenix had seen the reports on the internet.  By five, the official launch of martial law for Middle Tennessee had gone into effect.  If you weren’t out by then, you had to be indoors by five, and you would not be able to leave Tennessee until after martial law had been lifted.

Alaia turned and saw Phoenix.  She waved her hand for him to come in and join them.  He smiled because, for once, she was actually inviting him to join her, not because she had to, but because she probably wanted him there.  Her eyes looked carefree – that was good – and they seemed to say to Phoenix that the honor of his attending her little party would be hers and that, if he refused, she’d kick his butt.  Hardly the kind of offer to be refused, he thought, and he ambled in and sat down in the only seat left. 

Phoenix’s old desk had been pushed against the wall to make space in the room.  Rolled up in the corner, by the closet, he saw bedrolls of sorts.  They were made up of sheets, blankets, and eggshell mattress covers.  Two packs, full, with sleeping bags attached, leaned up against the wall in the corner, just to the left of the window sill.  Several cardboard boxes with lids were stacked next to them.  Darkeem was sitting in the chair closest to the window.  Alaia was sitting to his left and a foot or two behind him.  Phoenix sat next to Alaia.

Phoenix watched Alaia from the corner of his eye.  She’d changed into shorts, red ones, shorts cut so high they left little to the imagination of even the unimaginative.  Her legs, the lightest brown, recently shaved, ended in painted, light pink toenails.  She had on a pair of braided, crisscross sandals only a shade darker than her legs.  She must have seen him looking: she slipped the sandal off of her right foot, crossed her legs, and brought her foot up and under the hem of Phoenix’s right leg.  She lifted it up, gently, and raised it until, just above his short sock, she found her mark.

“You know that small refrigerator in Cobbs office?” Alaia said.  “The one in the closet?”

“I think,” Phoenix said, though he had never seen it.

“Grab us a couple of beers – might as well have them while we can.  But not just yet.  We’re coming to the good part.”  She turned to Phoenix and smiled, staring at him long enough to catch his attention; and then she drew his eyes down to her ankle, and they both watched as she slowly moved her leg.

“You know, Alaia, I really like this part of the movie,” Phoenix said.

“The script writer just went with the flow.”

“Inspiration?” Phoenix asked.

“That, and she adds all the right beats at just the right time.”

“Both of them have a ghost,” Phoenix said, rolling his eyes.

“And both have been hurt and can’t fall in love anymore,” Alaia said, scooting her chair closer to his.

“How could they?  They’re too busy fighting all the time.”

“Because she threatens him.”

“That’s because he knows she is just as capable as he is.”

“But,” Alaia said, as she put her hand on his arm, “they both come to know that they’ll never be all they can be without the other, Mr. Larger Picture.”

“I know what you mean, Miss Attention-to-Details.”

The next morning, when first light outlined the edges of the windows in Phoenix’s old office, the world and its imminent and deadly problems returned to NPD and pointed its bony finger straight at the building.

“It’s not the National Guard,” Phoenix said, moving quickly between Alaia’s and Darkeem’s makeshift beds.  He carefully lifted the blind on the right side of the window and looked down towards the still empty rear parking lot below.  “Get dressed, we have to go.  The back is clear, at least for now.”

Alaia jumped up without a moment’s hesitation and she quickly roused Darkeem.  She quickly dressed in her standard tan slacks and navy blue NPD polo shirt.  Darkeem had slept in his clothes and sneakers.  “What’s happening, Phoenix?”

“I’m not sure.  Looks like a private company out front – and they’re about to come through the front door.  Probably to secure any weapons left behind.  They think the place is empty, so I think it’s best we don’t rain on their parade.”

Phoenix had slept in Cobb’s office, just down the hall.  He’d gotten up well before morning, awakened by the sound of motorcycles, and he went to the third floor and looked out.  Nothing.  He retraced his steps, got dressed, and made a trip to the first floor vault, gathering up .357 ammunition for his Glock, a sniper rifle, and a new Saiga twelve gauge for Alaia.  He loaded what ammunition he could into his pack and walked back up to the second floor.  An hour later, while surfing the local news on a computer, he heard trucks coming up.

“I should have known better,” Phoenix said, berating himself.

“How could you have known anything?”

“The Psyke Virus – it’s everywhere.”

“I thought they had it contained.”

“Every Guard unit around Nashville has either been overrun or pulled back,” Phoenix said.  “We should’ve gotten out.”

Phoenix’s phone rang.

“Let me guess – Mr. Krystal is saving your rear end again?”

“I want you to hear him this time,” Phoenix said.  He shook his head, took the call, and hit speaker phone.  He set his Samsung Universe on the desk and, when he spoke, his neck corded and his hands became fists.  “What the hell do you want this time – Phillip Mercer?  Huh?  Always Johnny on the spot!  Have you ever thought about giving me at least five minutes warning?  Huh?  Is that too freaking much to ask?  Or is this what gets you excited?”

“I really would hurry if I were you, Phoenix,” Mr. Krystal said calmly.  “And you really don’t know if I am Phillip Mercer.  Maybe I am.  But’s that hardly important now.”

“Why me?  Yes, I get it – I helped you four years ago!  alright?  But why can’t you tell me what’s happening?”

Alaia slowly moved closer to the phone.  Her eyes glowed as she made strong eye contact with Phoenix.

“Because I promised God that, if he sent me someone – someone who would help me do his work – then I would always protect that person.  Be glad, Phoenix, for you will never die.”

“Do … do you know how crazy this sounds?”

Alaia touched her fingertips together and then pulled her hands apart, over and over, saying with her lips, “Draw it out, draw it out.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

“Who are you?”

“Not important, Phoenix.  But I will tell you this: Dr. Carson is not missing after all.  He is safe in his lab and he has a cure.  The sooner you get there, the better.”

“Is he the person behind the Psyke Virus?” Phoenix yelled.  “Did he kill my wife?”

“The only person who has killed anybody is you, Phoenix,” Mr. Krystal said.  “You killed DeAndre’ Cobb and that Jason fellow back in the prison.  But, in answer to your question – never mind.  It looks like you need to hurry.”

Phoenix reached for his phone and Alaia started to speak when a loud, thunderous crash roared through the building, shaking it from the bottom up, rattling their teeth and nearly throwing them to the floor.  Alaia helped Darkeem with his pack and then she suited up.  Phoenix handed her the shot gun and together, with Darkeem between them, they raced down the hall and into the stairwell. 

Reaching the bottom floor, they slowed down; and Phoenix opened the door, slowly, and looked quickly to make sure nobody had come down the hall towards the rear of the building.  He could hear people talking, hurried voices, faint and distant, and then a single gunshot, followed by others in quick succession, filling the halls of NPD.

“Let’s go,” Phoenix said, and he led Alaia and Darkeem across the terrazzo floor, past the elevator, and through the double glass doors.  They stopped where they were.  The small open air carport, where Chief Cobb parked his car, was empty, and the small enclosure, protected on three sides, hid them from anybody who might be coming through the parking lot.

Phoenix slung his rifle and took out his silenced Glock.  He walked quickly towards the edge of the sidewalk, stopping before stepping out into the open.  He leaned out, looked towards the right, and saw two men, both armed and both wearing black gear from head to toe.  Each carried a service rifle, both equipped with reflex sights, and each one wore some kind of gas mask.  The men stood at the left rear of the building where a small walk led towards the front, and they seemed anxious as they stood and listened to the scattered shots coming from the front of the building.

Alaia and Darkeem stepped closer to Phoenix.  “How do we know they’re going to bother us?  Maybe they’re the cavalry.”

“Do you want to take that chance?” Phoenix asked with a wry smile on his face, as he looked around the corner a second time.  “Okay.  One guy just left – that leaves one.”  He looked at Alaia.  “Start crying for help.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“If he comes for you, I’ll shoot him, that’s what.”

“You can’t just shoot someone,” Alaia said.  “Why don’t we just yell and say we’re coming out and put our arms up in the air?”

“And what if the guy has orders to kill everyone he sees?  I mean, we’re talking virus here – right?  Something nobody knows anything about, and he’s wearing a gas mask if you haven’t noticed – and we aren’t.  As far as that guy’s concerned, we’re infected.”

“And which way to Carson Research Labs?”  Alaia asked.

“Any which way we can, at this point.  But we have to decide on a baby step before any more of these guys decide to make a visit to the rear parking lot.”

Alaia shook her head.  “I’ll live to regret this.”  Alaia set her gun down and walked to the edge of the enclosed parking space.  She held her hands up and yelled, “Detective Jenkins, NPD!  Can you help me?  I’ve got a hurt kid over here!”

“Alaia?”  The man shouted.  He looked up the sidewalk towards the front of the building, lowered the muzzle of his weapon, and hustled over to where Alaia stood.  When he reached her, he grabbed her arm and swung her back into the parking alcove.  Phoenix raised his Glock and pressed it against the man’s head.  “Phoenix, it’s me!  Don’t shoot!”

Phoenix didn’t flinch.

The man removed his breathing mask.  Phoenix and Alaia recognized Carl Embry, the lieutenant in charge of acquisitions and purchasing for NPD.  He and Phoenix had done beer together over the years.  “You guys are dead,” he said, stepping back and looking in the direction from which he’d come.  “Look, I know you guys aren’t infected – but nobody wants to take any chances.  These guys I’m with – they drafted me – and I’ve been told to kill anyone I see.”

“So the news is bad?” Phoenix asked.

“There isn’t any news.”

“But you’re going to let us go though, right?  Carl?”  Alaia asked, pressing Darkeem close to her.

Phoenix said, “We’ve got to get---”

Alaia grabbed the back of Phoenix’s shirt and tugged it.  “As far away from here as we can,” she added.

Phoenix looked at her sideways – and he knew why she’d said what she said.  Maybe he was being overly worried, or paranoid, but he understood.  “How many infected have you seen this morning and what does the area look like?”

Carl walked back to the edge of the wall and looked out, raising his weapon to the ready.  Then he looked back at Phoenix and shook his head.

“That bad, huh?”  Phoenix asked.

“Not too thick here, yet,” Carl said.  “But the residential area near Haywood Lane is crawling with them – and you can forget downtown.  The place is a blood bath.”  Carl bit his lower lip and shook his head.  “Look, you guys gotta get out of here, and now.  If anybody sees me here with you, they’re going to shoot me.”  He put his mask back on told them to get going.

“Why don’t you come with us, Carl?” Phoenix asked.  “We could use the help.”

“These guys,” Carl said, “I’ve seen them kill innocent people.  They’re brutal – I mean really brutal.  And I’m not.”  Carl looked around the corner again.  “Well, shoot – if we’re going to go, let’s go then.”

Just as Carl, Phoenix, Alaia, and Darkeem started left across the lot, heading for a line of tall euonymus shrubs standing near the tall parking garage of the mall, the glass door behind them swung open.  It hit the concrete wall and bounced back.  Two soldiers stepped out, one a man, the other a woman, and both looked identical to Carl.

Carl had his weapon at the ready, and he turned it towards Phoenix.  “Stop, or I’ll shoot!  Now!  Drop your weapons and get down on the ground!” 

The two soldiers looked at Phoenix and began to raise their weapons.

Carl swung his rifle to the left, at chest level, and he pulled the trigger.  Two short bursts from the muzzle, two small flames, and he pasted the two soldiers against the wall with their own blood. 

Darkeem covered his eyes.

Carl and Phoenix ran over to the two dead.  They stripped the bodies of four grenades and eight magazines, and then they hurried away towards the line of shrubs. 

Sporadic shots, some louder than others, rang out from behind them and up towards the front of the building. 

“We ran into a small group of those infected people back up there,” Carl said.  “The group I was with won’t know about what I just did until they’ve gotten what they’ve come for.”

They reached the line of shrubs, shrubs tall and thick enough to hide them all the way to the next road, and found a small opening.  Alaia got on her hands and knees and crawled through, followed by Darkeem, then Phoenix, and then Carl.  They stood up on the other side and continued along, keeping their eyes and ears open and alert.

“They’ve come for the guns, right?  The ones in the armory vault?”  Phoenix inquired casually.

“Partly,” Carl said.  “But, and I think I ought to tell you – they’re looking for you, Phoenix.  Not because they want you, because they want the reward.”

Phoenix stopped and looked at Carl.  “Reward?”