A large explosion and plume of fire rose from the street while a thunderous noise came from the office tower. Maggie guessed it was the glass windows on the main floor entranceways finally giving way from the crushing weight of thousands of bodies against them. The automatic weapons fire began to pick up tempo, punctuated by the single report of side arms. It was a last stand at the police station. Safely tucked away on Lasalle, a single row of limousines sat parked on the right hand side of the street at City Hall. Like patient lap dogs they seemed to be waiting for masters who would never return.
“Besides,” Pinder nodded in agreement. “We have a mission to perform.”
“Yes sir,” Maggie agreed sadly.
She was suddenly aware Brett Symons was standing right behind her. “You’re right, ma’am.” He whispered encouragingly.
“I know, Brett.” If he had any reaction to her calling him by name he didn’t show it.
“Joel,” Pinder leaned forward with the map. “How do we get to Millennium Park from here?”
“Go west on LaSalle and then hang a left on Madison.” The bus driver didn’t even bother with the map. He knew Chicago. He knew his job. “It will take us right into the park.”
“Okay, then.” Pinder lowered the map and nodded his head. “Lets’ do it.”
“Yes sir,” Joel’s big hands turned the wheel of the bus and it executed a careful right hand turn. Along the way, he nicked a Volkswagon and ran down a few staggering figures that were oblivious to the large vehicle as they watched the unfolding apocalypse in Daly Square. Maggie and Brett stood transfixed at the sight as well. She imagined this being played out all over the world. Was this the scene at the Kremlin? In the Forbidden City? She thought of Mom and Dad in Florida. She exhaled for a moment to control herself. Molly was probably going through the same thing right now. In fact, sisterly bond
confirmed it. She knew what her sister was feeling. Dread, fear and an overwhelming desire to drive to her parents’ condo. All of these emotions were bottled up in a sense of duty her father had always preached. Do your job, she heard his voice. Just do your job.
“Okay, then…..” She said under her breath.
She and Brett stole one more look at the Richard Daley building. She could swear it had grown a shade darker in the last few minutes. She wasn’t looking at a battle. It was a final epitaph to any authority in the city. It was suddenly more important than ever to get to Millennium Station. Somewhere, they had to start turning the tide.
The bus slowly turned right and labored down LaSalle. All around the city there were a thousand tombstones marking the end of so many lives. A few blocks into their journey in front of a car park was a massive t-bone between a pickup truck and a domestic four door. A figure inside the domestic’s darkened windows was hunched over the driver. It seemed oblivious to the slow moving shadows that wandered about the wreckage. The pickup’s door was wide open. It made Maggie wonder how far the driver had gotten before his luck and life had run out.
LaSalle was one of those older Chicago streets that had been built in horse and buggy days. They were narrow compared to modern roads. The buildings were closer to the street. It created a wind tunnel that had earned Chicago the nickname of “windy city.” It felt like you were in a canyon. Or a trap, maybe? She wondered. Claustrophobia had just been a word a day before. Now, to more than one person it was an itch you couldn’t scratch as the dusk settled and the buildings seemed to grow taller and inch closer. It felt like they were cutting off their last escape.
They approached Madison and Pinder watched the lights flicker on obediently at 2 North LaSalle. A men’s clothing store was suddenly lit from the inside. The display windows showing off this year’s fashion to a blood stained pavement marked by two twisted bicycles. They were the expensive kind that only fanatics in the sport found money for. The mannequins placidly watched with unseeing eyes as the owners of the twisted metal were silently consumed by an ever growing flock of hissing figures. As multiple hands tore and worked pieces of the well muscled bodies free. Pinder could not help but feel he was looking at an artists’ surrealistic metaphor.
“Can we turn left here?” Pinder remembered Joel’s recommended route and saw the street sign that said Madison.
“Yup, that’s the plan,” Joel began to navigate the huge wheel for a left turn. “Just one thing, it’s a one way.”
“A one way?” Pinder’s eyes narrowed for a second before asking: “Which way is it one way?”
“Not our way,” the bus driver replied.
Maggie filled the silence that followed by saying; “Sir, I don’t think we’re in danger of getting a ticket.”
“Good point,” Pinder replied and nodded to the driver. The left hand turn was made. They narrowly avoided abandoned cars that were scattered about like unwanted toys. Small groups of dark forms hid their faces while feeding in huddled packs on the roads and sidewalks. They were completely oblivious to the passing bus, even when it ran over a few of them. The bus would rise slowly for a second and then return to its equilibrium.
BAM!
“What the fuck?” someone yelled.
BAM! It came from the roof and a form flashed past their window. A third noise reported off the roof of the bus followed a form falling to the pavement. Pinder looked around in bewilderment.
“There must be a few of them on a rooftop we are passing by, sir.” Maggie kept her voice even. Calm was like panic. It could spread to keep control of a situation. “I’ve seen them do this before.”
“How do we fight so many who have so little fear?” Pinder heard someone whisper. His face flushed when he realized it might have been him.
BAM!
Maggie pretended not to notice as she turned away and watched Chicago pass by. The street lights winked on obediently. They provided illumination to sights no one wanted to see. Maggie watched three of the things fight over uncoiled intestines on the pavement near a small coffee shop. As they passed by the lights flickered away inside like phosphorescent bulbs coming to the end of their lifespan. At the glass door of the shop a child pressed his hands against the glass. Maggie was about to call out to stop the bus when she noticed the blood on the child’s hands left a telltale trail wherever he moved his fingers. His eyes and mouth formed perfect, blackened O’s that were framed by pale skin. It was too far away to tell if their eyes met. But Maggie felt the child’s cold stare in her soul.
A roar overhead caught a few of the soldiers in the bus looking sky ward. Maggie tried to crane her neck upwards but could see nothing. She made her way to the back of the bus and looked out the shattered back window. Three transport helicopters in an inverted “V” were flying high above Chicago’s buildings. Their path did not deviate. They were heading west as fast as possible.
“They’re retreating. “ She spoke to the night air. “Heading out of the city.”
Something flashed past her and bounced off the pavement before rolling to a stop behind the receding bus. It was the form of an old woman. The skull had been caved in from the impact. The teeth and eyes glittered in the streetlights. Jesus, Maggie muttered to herself as she ducked her head back inside.
After getting inside she took a minute to catch her breath before speaking “Anybody else see any air activity?”
“No ma’am.” The answer came from more than a few..
“So where the fuck is our air support?” She muttered to herself as she walked past Symons.
“It might be busy elsewhere, ma’am.” Symons spoke up.
“What do you mean?” She queried. Maggie knew she was a far better tactician than Brett. But, it never stopped her listening.
“If this is happening everywhere,” he said glancing out the window. “We might be stretched pretty thin right now.”
“You’re right,” Maggie flashed back to the motley picket line a few hours earlier.
He nodded and continued to look out the window. The Chase Tower passed by on the right. It was lit up like a religious
edifice awaiting worship. Its’ pristine windows were stained by occasional red smears. Like splashes of paint from an abstract artist with murder on his mind.
Their gaze turned to the bizarre sight of the street lights at Clark. They quietly performed their daily dance from red to yellow to green. The pedestrian lights signaled to figures that shambled up and down the roads and sidewalks. There was one woman in jeans and a blouse with a huge, bloody wound staining her back who stared at the crosswalk signals with rapt curiosity. Slowly tilting her head one way and then another as the signals continued on their pre ordained path. Maggie wondered for a moment how long this would go on before Chicago plunged into endless darkness.
It came down Clark at a pace that made the world stand still. Maybe it was the surroundings that were so quiet that made the pickup seem so out of place. It was a black blur that was on them in the blink of an eye. The passenger window was rolled down and a few figures in the cargo area strained to reach into the driver. At the last second he saw the bus heading east on Madison through Clark. The late model truck tried to swerve and miss the slow moving vehicle and it rose up on two wheels. All control from that moment on was lost and the black truck slammed into the rear of the bus with a teeth rattling force.
The troops inside found themselves on the floor in a split second of shock. They didn’t jump up immediately but let their instincts kick in. They stayed on the ground, checking themselves for injuries. After that, they chanced a look around for any signs of danger. Joel was trapped in his seat and watched the pickup clip the back of the bus and turn over and over. It crossed Clark as the passenger door flew open and was eventually ripped off as the truck flipped like a centrifuge. The bodies that hung on to the cargo area were long gone. One splattered into the side of a bus shelter. A huge crimson stain marked his impact point on a Target advertisement. The others crashed into the pavement or other objects in their trajectory. Afterwards, some would actually rise up while others lay motionless, as dead as Chicago.
The black truck smacked into one of Chicago’s many ornamental metal street lamps. It snapped in half like a twig as the truck finally came to a stop on the sidewalk amid a pack of things. Maggie could see arms and legs writhing underneath wreckage, trying to get free. The driver had been a balding, portly man with large shoulders. . He seemed oddly positioned, suspended in place by his seatbelt. His head lay in the middle of a spider web of glass on the windshield as the truck lay smoldering on its side. Multiple pairs of hungry hands began to trace along the glass, looking for entry points. It wasn’t long before hands began to push at the spider web on the windshield. They were enticed and urged on by droplets of blood staining the glass that dripped from the man’s nose and ears.
“Shit.” She was pretty sure it was Joel. The bus was making a teeth grinding sound of metal on metal. The bus began to rattle like as it labored down Madison.
“What is it?” Pinder was right by the driver’s side.
“Not sure,” Joel had stopped the bus and began to get out of his chair. “I need to have a look.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.” Maggie said it to Joel but turned to Pinder so it seemed like she was addressing her superior.
Pinder was about to answer when Symons stepped forward. “I beg your pardon, Sir.” He looked for Pinder’s acknowledgement to continue. He got it with a slow nod. “Joel, you have a pretty good idea what’s wrong, am I right?”
“Yeah,” Joel nodded his large head. “It’s either the axle or the wheel that’s been bent.”
“Sir,” Symons turned to Pinder. “I think we should continue for a few more blocks before
checking on this.” Pinder instantly liked the idea and gave a second affirmative nod.
“Wait,” Joel kept his voice even. “You know that axle could snap at any time, right?”
“Then what?” Maggie had to ask. Cars were not her thing.
“Then we’re stuck.” Pinder filled in the blanks. He turned away from Maggie and addressed Joel. “Then, we’re dead.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
As they approached North State on Madison Maggie tried to think about the next option. Stay in the bus and hide? How about smashing a window and moving into a building? She discarded the thought. Any entrance made that way would be an invitation for those things when they followed. She glanced at darkened windows and abandoned buildings. Smashed windows appeared here and there. But no where near the amount as in the shopping areas. A lit hotel entranceway passed by. Maggie’s eyes brightened.
“Sir, we need to stop the bus.” She blurted out without taking her eyes off the scene in front of her. A large middle aged woman in a security guards uniform looked back at her. Their eyes met.
“Stop the bus.” She heard Pinder say as she raced past him. The door sighed open and Maggie was on the pavement in a second. She sprinted to the glass and tapped on the window. The security guard stepped back in shock. If she had a gun, Maggie would have sworn she would have drawn it..
“Hey,” Maggie tried to strike a balance between being loud enough for the security guard to hear her and soft enough to she wouldn’t draw a crowd. “Let us in.”
The woman had backed away from the window. She was clearly taken off guard, confused. She had black hair done up in a bun and although overweight she appeared powerful. Her mouth formed into an abstract shape as the initial shock wore off and she approached the door. She gave a once over on Maggie’s uniform before inserting a key in the lock.
“Better make it fast, girl.” Her voice was strong with a hint of panic as she peered into the darkness.
Maggie turned and waved to the bus and forms quickly followed. Maggie stepped away from the door and faced in the direction they had come. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Pinder and Voorhees were covering the front of the bus. She quickly motioned for Symons to join her. As Symons moved to her side she caught a glimpse of the man they had rescued carrying a blanket into the building. Checking in with them had completely slipped her mind. The medics would fill her in soon.
As Moshood came up the rear and entered the building Pinder nodded to Voorhees and Maggie did the same to Symons. They retreated into the building within a few seconds. Maggie glanced around twice for any sign of movement before heading to the door. As she reached it, Pinder held it open and muttered: “Ladies first.”
“That’s’ really cute, sir.”
He shot a sarcastic grimace her way and let the security guard close door and lock it. The turning of the keys and bolt snapping into place created a wave of relief for anyone within earshot. Heads began to slowly turn this way and that at their new surroundings. It had the musty feel of old wood and masonry.
The hotel lobby was small and compact with a check in desk dominating the surroundings. The floors were polished and glistened.
“Maybe we should go into the coffee shop so those things don’t see us.” The security guard suggested. “They go crazy if they see you.”
“Okay,” Pinder said loud enough for everyone to hear and follow while he nodded his head. Maggie glanced around the room to make sure everyone picked up the cue. Her mind was already a step ahead as she walked into the coffee shop and closed in on the security guard from behind.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” Maggie whispered when she got within earshot.
Yes, ma’am.” The security guard clearly appreciated the professional respect Maggie gave her.
“Are there any other ways those things can get in?” Maggie already was setting up a perimeter
in her head.
“I locked all the doors personally,” She sighed while running through a mental checklist. “There aren’t really any windows that aren’t double-paned to mention.” Her face seemed to settle into a conclusion. “No. we’re as safe as we can be.”
“How about those front doors?” Maggie nodded past the entranceway into the coffee shop.
“If I could find a hammer and nails I’d board them up.” The large woman repli
ed. “Not sure if they’d hold.” She looked at the polished floor before raising her eyes. “I think the best thing to do is stay out of sight.”
“Yeah,” Maggie nodded in agreement and introduced herself. “I’m Maggie.”
“Theresa Hildgen.” She held out her hand and Maggie shook it before asking: “What the hell is going on?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Maggie replied while Pinder made his way in her direction and she nodded to him when he was within earshot. “Sir.”
“Whats up, Maggie?” He addressed her before slowly turning toward the security guard.
“Just setting up a perimeter, sir.” Maggie reported before turning to Theresa. “This is Theresa Hildgen. She tells us all doors are locked up.”
“Good.” He nodded without taking his eyes off of Hildgen. Pinders’ voice was calm, yet authoritative. Knew you’d get the hang of this, Maggie thought. “Ma’am, what is this place?”
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