Unknown (10 page)

Standing over the pile of bodies, Gordon wipes the long blade on his jeans. Three men, one woman and a boy lie in the grass next to each other in various states of undress and butchery. Blood is everywhere, splattering the sides of the house, collecting in puddles, coating his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“It had to end here.” He closes his eyes, reading the instructions on his eyelids. Green on black the type runs by, faster and faster until it abruptly ended. His body shakes and vision blurs. FINIS.

Roland reloads and looks out the broken window at the group hunched by the street. He doesn’t notice the dirty tears that run down his cheeks, or the constant murmurings under his breath. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Clicking the round in, he stuffs the pistol in the holster, and peeks out again. They’ve moved half the distance up the yard in those few seconds, faster than he though imaginable. Loading the shotgun shells in, he snaps it shut, and points it out the window. “Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom.” His lips never stop moving as he centers the group in his gun site. Four men and one woman. He has enough bullets. How he’ll survive after they are gone he doesn’t know, but these monstrosities have to go. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rubs his aching wrists and raises the gun.

• • • • •

“Pass me the peas, mom,” Jacob mutters into the dirt as he lies next to his beloved car. Twitching in the soil his eyes flick open. “What the hell...” he mutters as he sits up in the dark.

“Where am I?” he asks the silent barn. Reaching out his hand to the mass in front of him, moonlight slips through the cracks of the rotting building, as he squints his eyes for details. He runs his hand over the glossy metal. “Baby, what should I do? Should we wait or make a run for it?”

Marcy sits up in the thorny weeds and rubs her lower back.

“Fucking heroin,” she mutters to herself, running her fingertips over her exposed arms. “Never happen.” Staring up at the overhanging trees, a sliver of white haze drifts down to her. She stares at the house on the top of the hill, as her lower lip trembles. “I’m scared,” she whispers to the jungle floor, as she stands upright. Slowly she moves on down the hill, back to her home in bare feet.

Gasping for air, Jimmy’s eyes pop open only to be filled with the vision of Madison. Her brow wrinkles on the verge of tears.

“It won’t happen,” he mutters. She pulls him close to her as he stares at the concrete ceiling. No words are exchanged, just her sobs in the dim light, as he lies limp and exhausted in her arms. Stroking his head, her tears drop onto his shoulder and her hot breath warms his neck. With much effort he raises his right hand, and pulls her closer, rubbing her back. “It’s okay.”

“Damnit,” X moans as he rolls to his side and vomits in the dirt. His body tenses as he empties his stomach, retching on his hands and knees his body coated in a sheen of sweat. “Too slow,”

he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Creaking to his feet, his massive frame is outlined in the ivory light. Taking a deep breath he walks to the edge of the stone patio and stops, gazing down at the thin line in the grass. He glares at the jasmine, as he inhales its sweetness. “Did they see anything?”

he murmurs to the plants. They nod gently in the breeze.

Gordon’s eyes pop open but his restraints hold firm. A figure in the dark hut gets up and walks over to him, opening his eyes wider with his fingertips, nodding. The shadow leaves, passing through a dull yellow doorway. “If I have to,” he says, as he lets his head fall back down onto the pillow. The tiny cot barely contains his length. Recording the night’s activities he drifts off to sleep.

A pinch at his ear and Roland rolls over. “Ouch.” Looking around at the dark jungle, disoriented, and confused, his friend Raymond stands on his chest. Feeling his ear there is a tiny indention sticky with blood. The chipmunk sways from side to side, it’s fur charred at the edges, blinking rapidly as its feet dance around. “We need to talk,”

Roland says, and the tiny battered animal nods profusely, clapping its little hands together, a grin slipping over its face.

• • • • •

//system alert

online...............................now

signal acquired

chip 298312 positive

chip 298631 positive

chip 299112 positive

chip 000000 positive

chip 300021 positive

chip 299632 positive

cancel darkness

return to base

end transmission

end

//

CHAPTER SEVEN

May 13, 2024

1. JACOB

Pumping the faucet in the corner, water gushes out into a rusty, dented pail. Shoving my head into the bucket is a crisp slap to the face, this metallic liquid wake-up call bringing me back to my senses. Out the barn window I can see the sun rising, gently pushing up orange. I gently open the barn doors, pushing the gap wider and wider until I am fully exposed. There is no whine of a bullet through the branches, no baseball bat to my head, just the quiet of a new dawn awakening. The only interruption is the odd rustle of leaves and the shy chirp of a songbird in the distance. I climb back into the Mustang and cross myself, eyes closed, mumbling wishes and threats to the universe at large. Pushing the key in, I twist it slowly to the right holding down the clutch, the gearshift rattling into neutral. I am greeted by a throaty growl as the car jumps to life. I have woken the world for sure and there is no time to wonder. Slipping on my sunglasses I put the car in gear and drift out of the barn, turning right. Not a soul in site as I purr up the hill over the dirt path and towards the road. A broad grin coats my face as I slip to the escape route up ahead. It is only two lanes but it runs across the island. I know that much. The compass gyrates on the dashboard. It will be east into the sun.

I crest the hill and come to a pause, flipping the turn signal up out of habit, eliciting a laugh in my solitude. Looking both ways, for what I don’t know, out of the corner of my eye I see two men emerge from the bushes. Shotguns dangle from their hands as their eyes come to rest on me. I step on the gas and accelerate down the road. I am heading for the gates, hoping to surprise the gun towers. The beach and cool water lapping at its edges are a distant mirage I desperately want to make real. Glancing in the rear view mirror as I shift up in gears I see one man raise his gun and point it my way as the other puts a walkie-talkie to his lips, eyes squinting my way. The road is straight, two narrow lanes of cracking concrete. I duck my head, keeping my eyes glued to the road as the rear window blows out in a cacophony of glass. For a second my eyes dip below the dashboard and my hand pulls the wheel to the right. I swerve into the dirt as the jungle flies towards me and the tires start to slip off the road. I bolt upright hoping I’m out of range as I straighten the car, gravel and dirt spewing from the tires. A hot ting erupts to my left and the side mirror is gone, metal ripped and wiring exposed, and I’m gone. Hot rubber spits down the road and a rush of excitement washes over me. Too close. The only fear I have is the tower up ahead and I pray that they aren’t any better shots than the men I left behind. Checking my chest for holes, my legs for spasms and my seat for wetness I take a deep breath and pull down the safety belt. Might as well. Shaking my head, visions of a bonfire fade into a memory.

2. MARCY

Waking up back in my bed there is silence all around. No birds chirping or citizens arguing. Nothing. Looking over at Roland’s bed, still made, I realize he is gone. Whatever that was last night, he isn’t here. I’ve driven him away again. The cobwebs in my skull make my thoughts slow and detached. What is the connection, who was that guy at the end, and how did Jimmy get back here? Maybe Jacob has some answers. A hunch in my gut tells me that X will not be awake or alert any time soon.

I run bruised fingertips over my aching arms riddled with scratches and cuts. I place my face in my hands but the tears won’t come. Anguish, regret, anger - sure. But no tears. As I squint my eyes and ball my fists flashes of last night come to me and I hammer my knees with the tiny amount of energy I have left.

“Fuck

it.”

I stand up and assess the damage to my body. My head throbs in a dull pulse. Every inch of my exposed arms and legs are cross-hatched from the jungle. An itch at my wrists alerts me to the fading marks on both of my arms. My back is one big bruise as though my spine is held intact by jelly and rubber bands.

“A

shower.”

Heading to the back of the tiny structure I am grateful for this one concession. Without the bathroom and its inviting tub and shower there would be little left of my femininity. I pull off my clothes in haste and drop them in a pile by the door. I reach into the shower, twist the knob, and the water shrieks to life. A deep sigh wraps around me and I brace myself on the sink. I can’t look at myself. I need to go to a place in my head where the nightmares of my past don’t exist. Where I don’t exist. Before he came to me. Before I had Roland.

The mirror fades to a hazy fog as the steam fills the room. I pull back the shower curtain and am enveloped by the water. My center, the essence of my spirit, she relaxes in the heat as my skin flushes, and the dirt falls away. Turning around I lean my head back, soaking my long hair, further immersing myself in this moment of peace. Running my hands down my body I continue to check for damage and catch moments of him entering me as I shivered and climaxed again and again. I embrace my curses and raise my hands to my breasts. Cupping them I pull gently at my nipples as a moan escapes my lips. This need is never filled for long. A hand slips between my legs as the hot water pounds my back. A long, slender finger caresses up and down as the rippling tingles extend to fill me. Faster and faster I rub, around in tiny circles, pressing harder and then easing up, pressing harder and easing up. I push a finger deep inside triggering an explosion, arching my back as my knees weaken in the aftershock. I place my hands on both sides of the tub and lower myself to the ceramic basin where I turn over to let the rainstorm descend. I lay on my back and close my eyes while I drift away in the spatter of hot water, exhausted and empty again. Now the tears come with a violence and finality that I deserve.

3. JIMMY

“Do you know what happened?” I ask. “Out there, how it became this desolate and broken?”

“Not really,” Madison replies while we both sit down on boxes and supplies in this tiny concrete bunker that has become our home and hideout.

“You haven’t seen much.”

“No. I went underground pretty fast. Once the blackout happened, well...”

“Right,” I murmur. “We all kept to ourselves pretty quickly.”

“After I ran into you in that grocery store,” she says, looking down at the floor, “well, you kind of took me under your wing.”

“I can’t do that any more Madison. I’m going to need your help. I want to tell you what is going on out there so you’re prepared. For when we leave here, which will be soon.”

“Okay.”

I rub the back of my neck with aching hands and twist it from side to side, cracking my neck. A deep breath and I’m ready.

“It started with the influenza virus. A strain that evolved quickly. Lots of people got sick and spread it across the world in a matter of days. It was winter. Getting a cold, or flu-like symptoms, was normal. By the time the media got hold of the deaths, the numbers, it was too late. There was no chance to isolate it, to slow it down or stop it with medicine and vaccinations. It became an epidemic, a modern day plague. It didn’t take long for businesses to shut down. One after another. Food, fuel, transportation. It all ground to a halt within weeks. Once the idiots in charge of the government and military decided to recognize this for what it really was there was anarchy everywhere. There were riots in the streets, fires, looting. Martial law was imposed but it didn’t matter. Who wanted to defend a supermarket when your own family was at home, vulnerable and scared, and soon, hungry and cold?”

I pause and her stare is icy and clean, her hands clenched, elbows on knees.

“A lot of people died in that first wave. The elderly and the very young almost immediately. There was a run on suicides. People were shot dead in the streets by local law enforcement, military, and anyone else with a gun. Once the president and vice president were assassinated it all fell apart. Soon the radio and television stations went out as local gangs jockeyed for position. The internet was next. When the luxuries we were used to and our means of communication were gone, it was surprising how quickly we reverted to animals. Gasoline became liquid gold. Generators were hooked up and then anybody with a light on was attacked for their power. The blackout ensued, more as a means of survival than anything official. Candles became the norm, with windows painted black, canned goods and bottled water stashed in piles.”

I take a quick breath.

“I’m not sure what happened next, but nuclear weapons were discharged. Not here, but abroad. Some say it was out of the middle east, others the far east, North Korea. They hit somewhere. I don’t know the truth about Europe and the rest of the world, there were lots of rumors and much speculation. The only thing that matters is that it drifted. Nuclear fallout drifted across the planet, sinking deep into the water, burying itself in the soil. That brought another wave of deaths. And then, the transformations.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“I’ve told you about the Blisterheads.”

“Yes. But I don’t know much, I’ve never seen them.”

“Again, nobody knows for sure, but some people with a certain genetic trait, well, they changed. They became agitated, brutal, cannibalistic. Maybe it was the fallout, or triggered by the rash of illegal street drugs that popped up everywhere. Illegal, that’s a joke. Just a new commodity. For some this was a dream come true. No job, no laws or rules, just drugs, booze and guns. This lead to stealing, raping and killing. The Blisterheads were spawned out of a final evolution. To join, you had to pour gasoline over your entire body and light yourself on fire. That was the initiation. You had to show that you were insane. Tattoos, piercings, shaved heads - those were for pussies. These guys, they were born, created out of some of the worst elements out there. They’re everywhere now and they show no remorse or hesitation.