by Ma West
Emilia tried to speak, but her voice floundered. “I, I, I will save you. Um, conditionally. You must acknowledge me as a master, or you, you ,you will stay here in the dark.” She tried to compose herself, but her heart was beating a million times a second. Her blood flowed everywhere but her brain. She had seen how to release the restraints, and she was confident that she could do it in the dark too.
The man cocked his head at a new angle before speaking slowly. “You would save me? To what end?”
“You must help me protect her.”
The implications and idea seemed to surprise the man. His stare went blank, and his ears appeared to fold back some, toward his head. “Sasha?”
Emilia nodded. “Sasha.”
“Again, master is a good negotiator. I accept.”
The captain composed himself just in time not to laugh at the “new kind” part of the man’s warning. The meaning of what was just said to him would need reinforcing before it stuck. The mayor and the captain both looked stern, but neither said anything in response. Probably expecting his boss to lead the conversation, the man waited and then stuttered as he spoke. “This alien appears to, um, be much bigger than the last. The police are all too afraid to engage it. So far, it appears to be destroying the corners of buildings and trying to capture the people inside.”
The man again paused to see if either the mayor or the captain would respond. “Colonel Major thus far has been trying to evacuate some of the nearby buildings, but he says we desperately need stronger firepower.”
The two men looked at each other and exchanged a smile with their eyes as their brains spun the wheels, trying to catch up. It was the mayor who spoke first. “What the hell does he expect? Tanks? Tell him I can get him dynamite. Blow down a building right down on fucking top of it.”
The man at the door waited a moment. “That will be plan A. Is there a plan B?”
The captain responded this time, having a great deal of experience both giving and getting lectures. “Hey, you just worry the hell about getting plan A to work. You let us worry about plan B and getting that to work. Got it, kid?” The captain waved his hand to reinforce his message, and the man retreated to execute what little he had been given.
The mayor pulled out a small bottle of eye drops, used it, and passed it along to the captain. “Now you’ll see how much less emotionally you will be thinking now.” A quirky smile crossed the mayor’s face as he repeated the same word. “Now. Now back to the adventure.”
The floor vibrated, and the building swayed. Screams from indiscernible places echoed down the hallways, under the doors, and into Emilia’s room. She moved another foot closer to the man as she steadied herself. His face began to change in its appearance. He now had a most “sad puppy eyes” look. Emilia evaluated the man’s body. Heavily scarred and tattooed, it was obvious that this man was no stranger to pain.
A great “T” had been burned onto the man’s chest, taking up most of the torso. Bullet holes, dog bites, and long cuts were all visible despite the massive tattoo’s attempt to cover them up. He spoke gently and softy. “Please.” The building returned to normal, and Emilia stood even closer to the man as she reached an arm out to brace herself against the bed’s railing.
She felt conflicted. The only thing that did make sense to her was that this man wanted to protect and help Sasha. That, Emilia thought, would make them at the least uneasy teammates. She hesitantly put her fingers into the green blob of a restraint, moved her fingers into position, and released the clamp. Initially believing there to be two clamps, she was surprised at how quickly the man was able to wiggle himself free of the restraints.
Emilia backed away and was now next to the door when the man stood erect. He was taller than expected, thicker too, his presence formidable. She half turned to open the door, keeping an eye on her new friend, when to her horror, Emilia discovered that the door wouldn’t open. The handle jiggled, but nothing happened, and the door wouldn’t budge.
The man’s piercing stare returned, and Emilia didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Guilt was an inappropriate feeling, yet she was stricken by it. The man staggered toward her, his tongue running across his lips and his eyes moving up and down her body. Emilia wanted so much, so badly not to have done what she just did.
The man reached out and grasped her hand on the door. He also yanked the handle, confirming that it wouldn’t open. Then he moved his body around Emilia’s and pinned her against the wall. She looked down and squeaked like a mouse. “Please, stop. I don’t want this. Please.”
Chapter 33
I Say Hello, You Say Goodbye
The operations center buzzed and hummed as more computers now worked and more people flowed around the room. The noise level was high, but these were professional and diligent workers. Luckily or unfortunately, public service is a cruel mistress that far too often breaks families apart. Most of these people were there because they had no family remaining, or had no family to begin with.
Several aides rushed toward the mayor, each one shoving him a notepad of information to address. The mayor waved his hand, brushing them off, and then leaped up onto a table and called for everyone’s attention. “Eyes up fucking here, right fucking now, on me.” He loosened his collar and walked across the table so as to address as many as possible.
“Today is more than a day of infamy. It is our day of reckoning. Today we must decide our own fate, our own course, and our own destiny. The people out there, they are counting on us back here to support, enhance, and encourage our dying brothers out there. We cannot lead from the front, so we must push from the rear. Right now our brothers and sisters have tasked me, and now I task you. They cannot destroy this enemy—they need weapons. We need to find and deploy those weapons. This is our only task, our only goal. It is one we must now all, every fucking one of us, concentrate on before we can go back to those other vital tasks we so urgently need done.”
The mayor finished his 360 lap around the room, making eye-to-eye contact with as many as possible as he went. “Now, who has a weapon or knows where to find a weapon other than dynamite?”
Random suggestions rang out from the crowd: “Synied office . . . organized crime . . . terror cells.”
A few other, though less probable, suggestions were shouted out before the mayor thanked everyone and called together a select few. The mayor, with the captain by his side, made arrangements for all avenues to be pursued and then dismissed the group.
The captain stood still, torn by a newfound loyalty to this crazy bastard of a man, but he knew what had to be done. “Mayor, it’s time for me to go. I have a weapon for you to use, but only I can deploy it, and first I need to find her.”
The mayor gave a baffled looked. “You would risk your life to save a girl you want to attack a giant alien. And they say my marriage is confusing.” The mayor chuckled before slapping the captain on the back. “I know it must be true, so go and follow your crazy notion. I can no longer stop you or convince you to stay. Perhaps this might just come in handy along the way.” He handed the captain three small stacks of dynamite.
Emilia felt his hand on her inner thigh. His breath fouled her nostrils with an awful smell so strong she could taste it. His body blocked her escape. His hand held hers firmly in place, the other on the door. The angle of his body bending over hers made her feel powerless. His hand moved to grasp her wrist, and he forced her hand down onto his throbbing member, through the trousers. Emilia closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed like she had never prayed before, continuously whispering, “Oh, Lord, please, no. Please, Lord, no.”
The man released Emilia’s hand, but her body had locked up and she lacked the bravery to move. The man unzipped his trousers and exposed himself into her hand. He moved his face onto her neck and began kissing it. She squeaked again, in protest, but felt like she was outside of herself, as if viewing this tragedy from another perspective. Inch by inch, he moved closer until their bodies were fully compressed toge
ther.
Emilia turned her head away from him and the door, only to hear it open. She always considered herself athletic, but she was nowhere near as fast as this man, and before she could even flip her head back, he had the nurse under his control. The man twisted the woman’s arm high up into her back and slammed her into the bed, bent over. He grabbed a tube from the medical equipment and strangled this poor nurse who was only trying to find survivors.
The man smiled a hideous smile as he looked down on the nurse’s lifeless body. The woman was of average build and looks, early forties most likely. Having satisfied his bloodlust, his carnal lust returned, and the man rotated back in Emilia’s direction, but she’d left him behind with an empty room and an open door.
The streets were empty except for the apocalypse of cars. Captain Drexter knew from the map that the hospital was about eight blocks away, six blocks west to south, but he couldn’t tell where the hell he was. Disoriented, he spun around, and then around again. He closed his eyes and began to brainstorm ideas, when he heard someone yelling, “Soldier . . . hey, soldier, over here.” The captain turned to see some people at the front door of a lobby, waving him in.
The captain neared the group. Too pressed for time, he felt no shame in asking for directions. “Where is the hospital?”
The two people looked at each other and then backward, as if toward a crowd. “What’s going on out there? We were told to stay inside, but we don’t know why. We want to come out.”
The man started to say more, but the captain stopped him. “Answer my question first!”
The man pointed in a direction, and the captain began moving as he shouted back. “Command center’s over there. Ask them yourselves.”
As the captain moved, so did the street numbers. They were labeled “East” and getting smaller, so he must have been heading west. After a four-block near sprint, he heard not only screaming but shattering glass and construction noises. Attributing his slowdown to the noise and not fatigue, the captain put his hands over his head and walked. He hadn’t located the hospital yet, but he spotted something awful, something he feared even Sasha couldn’t face.
He felt a pain in his heart and prayed that Sasha would never have to confront such a creature—yet here he was, searching for someone he loved so much, just to ask her to risk it all. The captain had reached the corner and would now be in view of the thing once he started to cross. The alien was literally tearing down an apartment building while foraging inside for the inhabitants.
The creature was massive, two stories high. Built like a praying mantis, its skin looked to be armor tough. Its long, barbed extremities scraped away at the building, sending mounts of concrete, wire, and brick to the ground. Then its jagged edge would rotate and dexterous, small limbs would scavenge inside.
Yelling again caught the captain’s ear as he heard a familiar voice. “Take aim. Fire!” A crackle of fire burst out of an upper story in the building across from him. Smoke billowed out the windows as if on fire, but the alien barely noticed as hundreds of shells pounded down the middle of its back torso. The volley ended, and after a round of cursing, the captain heard the colonel’s voice: “Fall back.”
The captain, initially consumed with finding his daughter, now reevaluated his next course of action.
Emilia ran. She ran and ran until she couldn’t run anymore. Upstairs, down hallways, down, down, down all the stairs, and through numerous sets of doors, Emilia ran until she was not only lost but surrounded by death. She was in a long, dark room. Blue light shined in from a few scattered high-ceiling, small windows. Bodies were stacked in rows, piles and piles of them spanning the entire length of the room.
The foulest smell on earth entered her nostrils, staining her memory and warping her mind. The bodies were haphazard as they lay, each one suffering a fate seemingly as cruel as the previous and as awful as the next. Emilia walled off her emotions as best she could. Her breathing was too loud. He would hear her breathing. Why couldn’t she stop breathing so loud? He’d heard it too, the man at Synied. Damn it, she thought, why can’t I breathe quieter? I’m going to die.
She felt the pit of her stomach churn and ache, but a noise terrified the puke back down. Someone had come through the outer double doors. Emilia stood out. As the lone one standing, she would be noticed immediately—that is if he didn’t hear her first, with all the damn breathing. Then the doors to the room opened, and Emilia fell to the ground.
Nothing was said. Whoever had entered had done so without speaking. Emilia curled herself up into the fetal position. “Don’t breathe, don’t breathe,” was the mantra she repeated in her head. The person walked without notice of haste or stealth. Then a new sound brought relief, the sound of a cart. The wheel banged in a rhythm as it glided across the tile floor.
Why would that man have a cart? This was probably just an unfortunate morgue operator. Feeling confident, Emilia stood back up, totally catching the man off guard. The two looked at each other, one befuddled and one terrified.
After a second, the man’s sinister smile returned. “Seems I am being rewarded handsomely today. So you will too. It has been some time since I last shared my wonderment. I have enough saved up to share some with you too. NOW!”
Emilia screamed and ran as fast as she could to the far side of the morgue. The closer she got, the more she realized there was no exit and he was in pursuit.
Planning and executing an attack from the rear was a complicated and onerous task, and now the captain saw a way to almost single-handedly execute the mayor’s scheme. He could see the group diligently plotting every detail they could think of. Who would get the dynamite to the colonel? Did the colonel have personnel trained in how to take down a building? How would they choose a building? How would they lure it to that building? How would they evacuate that building?
It all seemed so immense—so much to decide, with so little information. However, as he stood there now, in what used to be the world, he saw his destiny, his call to action, his purpose in life. Sasha had a new ally in her battle against the fog. Emilia had already proven her worth in that department, by the fact that she was still alive and interconnected with Sasha. No, thought the captain, he had done his bit for king and country, and now it was time to do his bit for his daughter. He would never be able to spare Sasha of hardships in life, but he could eliminate this foul, hideous beast.
He had failed to follow through before, and it nearly got the two most precious females in the world, to him, raped. Now he would not let anything stop him, not a call to duty, not an obligation to the rest of humanity. The captain squeezed and felt the power of the dynamite in his hands and knew his only obligation was to save Sasha from this trial, and bringing down a building would be a hell of a way to go.
Emilia pushed her thighs harder and harder, shoving off with as much speed as possible on each step. It was a futile effort, and her brain both recognized and avoided that fact. The cart was no longer making noise, but his footsteps against the concrete flooring came in an awful pattern, each one ringing horror deeper into Emilia’s psyche.
At last, she reached the wall. Her hands hit first but for only a moment, as she spun and braced for his attack. She could almost feel his hands on her. The unwanted groping, the unwanted affection, the unwanted breathing—it all paralyzed her heart as she raised her emotional wall.
Emilia was fast, and the man was still seconds away. She had enough time to look left and right, but she only saw open space and piles of bodies. The helplessness had already gripped her body, but the delay gave her body time to think, time to remember.
She felt the man from Synied’s hand on her again. She remembered how she couldn’t move, but then Sasha did. Sasha moved, and moved fast. There had been no conscious thought behind the act, simply a progression of thought after breaking through the paralysis of shock.
Emilia raised her leg hard and stiff, slamming it into the man as he reached her.
He cringed and fell to the sid
e. Emilia ran again—no thought, no pain, she ran harder than she ever had before.
Timing would be important, and it would be out of his control. The captain knew where the colonel was and what course of action he would be taking, but the colonel wouldn’t tell him if it meant the front-door exit, within sight of the beast exiting stage left, or a back-door fall-straight-back maneuver. Unfortunately, plan B was pretty much the same as plan A, minus the distraction. The captain held three large sticks of dynamite and identified three targets, the beast’s hind leg and the two small inlets on each side of the nearby foundation. Would it be enough to bring down the building? He doubted it, but many of the buildings had already been structurally weakened.
The captain hid behind the corner, but his time was winding down. What few souls were still alive in the building would soon be devoured, and the alien would move on. The captain’s breath returned, the benefit of a military career. He ducked down into a runner’s starting pose and waited until he thought he could wait no longer.
The windows were all empty, the door was stuck shut, and by now, the officers must have left out the back, so it was on to plan B. The captain had seldom contemplated the afterlife, believing the majority of religion to be tomfoolery, the greatest institutionalized lie of all time. Yet as he looked out at his immediate fate, he found his conviction to that belief faltering and hoped that something more would be on his side for this one. Stopping short of conscious prayer, the captain wished and went.
Emilia willed herself to jump, skip, and run as fast and as high as she could. The building’s tilt and the motion of the stairs, none of it rang true to her. She was being hunted, the prey in flight. She had no destination, no plan, no course, only a desire to live and the will to run.
