His words tangled themselves together, casually losing and gaining meaning, almost invariably becoming nothing but a word salad of nonsense.
So he’d loaded up the homemade tank and left his property, trundling down the road headed toward Albuquerque, searching for something that only he knew, something that only existed in his meth-crazed delusions.
He was barely clinging to reality. What he saw in front of him was not what others saw. He existed in a world of his imagination, a hellscape of delusion, and nothing more.
Zach chattered with himself and only himself as he drove along, scaring everyone that he came across.
The first twenty-four hours were a blur, nothing that he’d easily remember later.
What he did remember was parking his vehicle at a popular intersection on Route 14, a road that ran between Albuquerque and Santa Fe, and slaughtering everyone who came within range. There at that intersection, near the gas station, Zach was convinced that he was doing God’s work, that he was a savior, that he was slaughtering minions and demons that had escaped the very pits of hell. He’d resorted, at that point, to snorting meth, as well as smoking and injecting it. Each method of consumption had its own unique benefits, at least as far as Zach was concerned, and it all helped to fuel the delusion.
But the reality of it was that even if Zach had been able to stop the meth for a few days, and if he had survived the withdrawal without clawing his own eyes out, he still would have been deluded and certifiably insane. He’d pushed his mind too far over the years. There was no turning back.
He’d slaughtered many at that intersection. It had been good work. He’d cackled to himself as he’d unloaded clip after clip into the demons. He’d smiled and laughed.
He’d done good work, killing many of the demon horde.
But then there’d been the three. They’d seemed to tower over the others. They’d seemed to glow with a special shade of demonic red.
His hallucinations had never been stronger. Instead of seeing humans, he’d actually seen demons.
And they were fearsome demons. He’d shot at them, but they were smart enough not to come in range.
He’d watched them through his binoculars as they escaped on foot, heading out into the unpaved areas where he’d have trouble pursuing them. He knew enough not to try to pursue them on foot. They were terrifying demons and only with his God-given tank could he vanquish them.
Zach might have been paranoid, deluded and hallucinating, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the demons heading off to the north, thinking that they were escaping him.
No, he wasn’t going to let them get away. He followed them, staying on the road, using his binoculars to spy on them out in the high desert.
The demons occasionally changed shape, morphing into humans, taking on the forms of one male and two females. But Zach knew it was just a trick. Nothing to take seriously. If he concentrated on his mission and waited it out, the “humans” morphed back into their true demonic shapes.
“I’m not giving up,” muttered Zach, behind the Toyota-branded steering wheel of his homemade tank. “You three are out there. I know you are. If it takes me all month, I’ll get you. I know you need this road. I know you do. I’m going to keep driving up and down it until you show yourselves. I don’t know how I know, but I know you’ll come to this road eventually...and when you do, I’ll be here.”
He was relentless. He hadn’t slept in days now. He kept taking bumps of meth. He kept lighting his pipe. He kept fondling his guns. He kept parking his vehicle and getting out the binoculars, scanning the horizon for signs of the three deceptive demons.
He didn’t know what day it was when he came across the gate.
“Now what’s this?” he said, stopping his vehicle, punching the clutch and putting the Toyota transmission in neutral. “What do we have here? The work of more demons or the work of God?”
Lashed to the gate with rope were two corpses. One man. One woman. Blood all over them.
It was a horrendous sight, even for someone who had been slaughtering strangers all day with an AK-47.
“It’s the work of the devil if I’ve ever seen it,” muttered Zach. “That blood...that pattern...it’s unmistakable...blood like vomit falling onto the breasts...onto the stomach...onto the navel...the blood-stained shirts of the damned are the signs of what needs to be done...I’m going down that road. I’ve got to. It’s my sign and it’s my destiny.”
Pausing only to take another bump of meth, Zach shifted into first, spun the wheel, and soon his homemade tank was bouncing down the dirt driveway onto the property that the gate protected.
“Now maybe someone put those devilish blood-soaked corpses up there as a warning,” said Zach. “But to me, it’s a calling.”
Zach’s pupils were small and his eyes were focused. His heart rate was greatly accelerated.
In his warped mind full of demons, he was on a mission. And he couldn’t have been happier and more fulfilled.
32
Jacob
“Hey, Potter, what are you doing? Slacking off on the job?”
Jacob strode up to Potter. Potter, normally an industrious young man, was lying on the ground in the dirt, apparently taking a long rest.
No answer from Potter.
“Potter!” hissed Jacob. “I don’t have the patience for this. If you’re going to lie around like this, you’d better be dead.”
No answer still. This was unprecedented.
Jacob prodded Potter’s body with the toe of his boot. No response.
Intensely angered, Jacob lashed out, kicking Potter’s body.
Finally, Potter made a noise. He groaned.
“Get the hell up, Potter,” snarled Jacob. We don’t have time for this shit.”
He gave Potter a harder kick, causing Potter to roll over, so that he lay on his back, his eyes facing the sky.
“Oh, shit,” muttered Jacob, seeing Potter’s face fully for the first time. There was blood coming freely down from his nose. The veins on his neck were big and puffy, as if someone had been pumping cotton candy through them. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Happened?” muttered Potter unintelligibly. With a great effort, he managed to turn so that he was on his side again. He began coughing, his abdomen pulsating horribly. Blood came out as he coughed, splattering in a diffuse pattern on the dry dirt.
“It can’t be,” said Jacob, speaking the words as if the pronouncement would make them true. “You can’t be infected...we took precautions...you were wearing a mask.”
But Potter had been one of the workers tasked with carrying the body to the front gate. Jacob had watched as Potter had hauled the bloodied bodies out of the bed of the pickup.
Shit.
How could this be?
Well, maybe it wasn’t that bad. Jacob took a deep breath, trying to stop his mind from panicking, from going into full-blown anxiety.
He’d felt anxiety before. It wasn’t uncommon. It happened to all men of business. But what separated Jacob from the rest was that he could control it. He’d always considered himself someone who had an iron grip on his emotions, on his mental state.
But now?
Everything seemed to be tumbling down around him.
He took another deep breath.
Okay. Maybe it was going to be okay. After all, surely not everyone got infected immediately upon contact. Certainly there were various factors that influenced the rate of transmission. And, of course, there were those were naturally immune to the virus’s grip. Maybe he was one of them.
He glanced down at his hands, turning them over so he could see the backs of them.
Shit.
He had it.
The virus.
His veins were huge. Massive. Just as big as Potter’s.
“What’s going on?” said a familiar voice.
He turned to look.
It was Marigold, striding toward him. She had a concerned look on her face.
“Some
thing wrong with Potter?”
Jacob was now panicking. Full-blown panic. At least he knew how to hide it. What should he do? Was it possible to save Marigold?
If he yelled at her to stop, to turn around, to run away, maybe she wouldn’t catch the virus. Maybe. Maybe not.
But the odds were better if he warned her, that was for certain.
Of course, what was the timeframe of the infection? Surely if he was infected, she’d already be infected. It took a while for the symptoms to show up, didn’t it? Maybe the virus had adapted already, maybe it had sped things up.
The real question was, did he even want to save her? Could he bear dying, hemorrhaging out on the ground, knowing that Marigold was off, alive, without him? He was, after all, deep down, a deeply sick man. And he knew that. He’d merely played it to his advantage over all these years. A man who could exploit his own weaknesses, psychological or physical, for personal gain is a powerful man. At least that was the way Jacob looked at it.
“What’s going on? What happened?” said Marigold, her voice rising in concern.
She was closer now.
Too late to tell her to turn back.
He’d turned his agonizing decision process into a decision itself. He’d chosen the coward’s path. The one way to save her was now gone forever.
“Nothing,” said Jacob, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets and striding toward Marigold briskly. “Come on, I have something I have to show you.”
“But what about Potter?” she said, standing on her toes, trying to see over Jacob’s big frame. “Is something wrong him?”
“Just lazy. Sleeping on the job. I gave him a good kick in the mouth.”
“That’s my man,” she said, happiness returning to her voice. “Hope you got him right in the teeth. Wow, and I thought he was one of the good ones...”
They walked across the land together, discussing their plans. Marigold was talkative and excited, and Jacob found himself getting caught up in the emotions. For quite a while, as the hours passed and the two walked together alone, he forgot that he’d almost certainly contracted the deadly virus. Somehow, it was almost as if he’d made himself forget. It was easier that way, for one thing.
But, after a few hours, intently discussing their plans, she started to notice. And he started to feel it.
His body started to feel hot. Too hot. As if he was really burning up.
“You feeling okay, my love?” She always called him that when she was really worried.
“Fine,” he grunted, blood starting to dribble out of his mouth.
He tried to catch the blood with his hand, cupping it under his mouth. But it didn’t work and the blood started spilling out.
“Your hand!” Marigold cried. “The veins!”
Horrified, Jacob realized at the last moment that she could see his hands.
She’d caught him.
“Marigold,” he said. “It’s not what you think...”
“You!” she screamed out, terror and anger flashing across her face, like a wave of expressions. Her eyes narrowed, her pupils contracted.
Suddenly, the power dynamic that he’d maintained all these years was reversed.
Suddenly, he realized that he would die. That he was mortal. That this was the end.
And the end of Marigold as well.
“I love you,” he said. It was the first time in years he’d said it. He hadn’t “believed,” in it, he’d said.
“Screw you,” she said, spitting in his face. “We’re dead now. Don’t you realize that?”
33
Matt
The three of them had made their way out toward the road. They’d had to take it slow, since walking across the uneven terrain was difficult for Judy.
Here, higher up than Albuquerque, there wasn’t any red rock, and instead the colors appeared more muted. Just dirt brown and the muted forest green of the juniper trees.
“Any sign of it?” said Jamie, peering around.
“Not that I can see,” said Matt.
It was obvious that she was referring to the tank. But in any case, nothing was around.
“How you holding up, Judy?”
“You should have just left me back there,” she said, attempting to make a joke. She was breathing heavily, but other than that she seemed to have done okay on the walk. She hadn’t lost her balance.
“There isn’t any time for jokes,” said Matt. “Now which way is your cousin’s place?”
“That way,” she said, pointing. “To the north.”
“You sure? That tank might come back, for all we know. We need to spend as little time as possible on the open road.”
“I’m sure,” she said resolutely, despite her heavy, labored breathing.
“Come on.”
He offered her his hand to lean on and the three of them set off down the road.
“Hopefully it’s not that far,” said Jamie. “I don’t like the feeling of being out here. It’s creepy with no one around.”
“I’d rather have no one around than someone around,” said Matt.
“It’s not far,” said Judy, with effort. “I know right where we were.”
And she was right. In only ten minutes of slow walking along the side of the road, with no one visible for miles, they found themselves on the edge of Joe’s property.
“That’s his fence right there. The start of it.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. See that color?”
“The light blue?”
“It’s mostly rust now, but yeah, I remember that color.”
“You were only out here once before?”
“Years ago. But while I may be old, I have a good memory.”
“Better than me,” said Jamie. “I can’t remember what I had for breakfast.”
“Nothing,” said Matt.
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Matt. “That’s what you had for breakfast. None of us have eaten all day.”
She laughed about as hard as she could despite the fatigue, which wasn’t very hard at all.
They walked along the road, following the pale blue rusted-out fencing.
It was about a mile, at a slight incline, to get to the gate.
Matt was the first to see it, the sight of the two bloodied corpses strung up, hanging there, lashed to the upper part of the gate with rope.
“Shit,” was all he could think of to say.
“What the...?”
It was only Judy who made any sense. “That’s him,” she said, through labored breaths.
“Who?”
“Joe. My cousin.”
“Your cousin?” exclaimed Jamie, sounding completely horrified.
“You sure?” said Matt. And it wasn’t an unreasonable question, considering how “damaged” the corpse was and how much blood there was.
“I’m sure,” said Judy, staring right at the corpses. “I don’t know who the other body is...but that’s definitely Joe.... Hell, I haven’t seen him in years, but that’s definitely him.”
“Oh, my...” exclaimed Jamie, unable to follow it up with any words. “Judy, I’m so sorry...it’s horrible...”
It was a horrible sight. Matt couldn’t have agreed more.
But it didn’t seem to faze Judy. She didn’t take her eyes off of the corpses, despite how horrifying the sight was.
And it really was horrifying. Even for Matt, who, along with the rest of them, had at this point seen countless bodies.
It wasn’t just the blood that was upsetting and disquieting. It was the expression on the man’s face. It was almost as if he was smiling slightly, with his lips upturned a little. And there was something around his eyes that indicated a smile.
The woman wasn’t smiling. She looked terrified. As if she had died horrified. Frightened.
“Well,” said Judy. “Come on.”
With those words, she began to walk forward, somewhat unsteady on her feet, headed down the dirt driveway.
&nbs
p; “Judy, wait,” said Jamie, grabbing a hold of Judy. “It’s not safe.”
“Not safe?” said Judy, turning just her head around.
“Aren’t you worried that whoever did that to your cousin is still there?”
“No one did that,” said Judy. “The virus did that.”
It was a good point. There weren’t really any visible signs of physical blunt-force trauma or bullet wounds, although with all the blood it was hard to tell for sure.
“It looks like a warning,” added Matt. “A very clear message that tells everyone what’s going on. And what’s going on is the virus.”
“So someone just hung them up there to let everyone know that there are infected people here?”
“I think so.”
“Well,” said Judy. “That shouldn’t be a problem for us. Apparently we’re immune.”
“Apparently,” said Matt. “We haven’t confirmed that.”
“We might as well have, with the amount of contact we’ve had with people. With how fast the virus spread, we should be dead by now. And yet, not even a single enlarged vein.”
Matt nodded his head. She was making sense.
She turned her head back around and kept on walking, breaking free of Jamie’s weak grasp.
“Judy, wait!” called out Jamie, jogging to catch up with her.
Judy seemed to have gained some strength because she was walking faster now. Arriving at her cousin’s property seemed to have had a tonic effect on her. She seemed to stand a little taller now, and breathe a little better.
“What?” snapped Judy. “We can’t wait here by the road all day. It isn’t safe.”
“Maybe one of us should go on first,” said Jamie. “To check it out. We don’t know who’s here. Someone strung up those corpses...and I just...I know you’re saying it’s a warning about the virus, but...”
“It’s not as if it’s safe to hang out here,” said Judy. “Not by the road. Anyone can drive by.”
Last Pandemic (Book 2): Escape The City Page 17
