Sons of Chaos

by Jerry Hart

  Curtis and Owen stood over him, looking down.

  “Are you all right?” Owen asked.

  “No,” Doug said. “I’m covered in dookie.”

  Curtis smiled. “That was so awesome.”

  They helped Doug to his feet. He was covered from head to toe in dark brown slime. It smelled like rotten cabbage.

  “Dude, I’ve got to wash this off,” Doug said, dry-heaving a little. He walked stiffly with his arms raised. They all looked around the plaza, noticing the pet store at the far end.

  “They might have showers in there. You know, for the animals,” Owen said as he handed Doug some of his clothes from his pack. Doug nodded and started for the store. Owen turned back to the cars that sat in the lot.

  “What are you doing?” Curtis asked him. He was clearly torn between staying with Owen and going with Doug.

  “I’m going to get one of these cars started so we can leave. Go with him.”

  Curtis looked at D, who was still standing inside the shoe store. “You know, your robot isn’t really helping us much. We could’ve died, and all it did was stand there and watch.”

  Owen looked at the robot and said, “I know.”

  * * *

  Curtis shook his head and ran after Doug. Owen watched them for a moment, then went to the shoe store and stood before D. The robot’s eyes were lit up, but it stared straight ahead.

  “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel,” Owen said quietly, disappointed. “Why didn’t you help us?”

  He commanded it to follow him out of the store, but it didn’t obey. Owen repeated the command. Nothing.

  D had been working fine until recently. Owen didn’t understand what was wrong. He turned to the girl on the floor. She was still where he’d first seen her. He checked her pockets and found her car keys. He then pulled out his cell phone to call the police. He still didn’t have a signal.

  He went to the phone on the front counter. There was no dial tone. What was going on here? It was like a horror movie or something.

  Owen picked up the robot with little effort and carried it back to the two cars. The key belonged to a Honda. He pressed the door opener on the key chain and the yellow car responded. He got into the car and started it up, completely oblivious to the figure coming down the hill from the freeway. It stepped into the lot and made its way quickly toward Owen.

  * * *

  They had to resort to breaking into the pet store. There was just no other way around it. Doug and Curtis smashed through the door. It was dark inside; none of the animals had been disturbed by the sound of breaking glass.

  Doug walked stiffly to the back of the store. Curtis laughed and started to follow, but decided to let Doug handle his own business. He looked around the store. All the animals appeared to be asleep; none were stirring. There was a little pen with a few baby bulldogs. They were sitting up. Curtis leaned over them to get a better look. They were staring straight ahead, not noticing him.

  He asked himself if they were even real. He reached out and touched one of the puppies. It was warm and soft. Curtis jumped back as if burned by the touch. These puppies were real, but they weren’t moving.

  Curtis looked all around him. None of the animals were moving. The rabbits in the cage next to the puppies; the fish in the aquarium; the birds in their cages. The whole store was full of non-responsive animals.

  Doug came back from the rear of the store wearing Owen’s spare clothes—a red shirt and khakis. His hair was wet. “That was refreshing.”

  “We have to get out of here,” Curtis said nervously. “Now!”

  * * *

  Owen had just put D in the backseat when he noticed someone walking toward him from the freeway. His heart lurched.

  The figure appeared to be a man with curly brown hair. He was wearing a black hoodie and jeans. Owen grew more afraid the closer the man got. The stranger was very pale, with dark streaks running down his cheeks from his eyes—

  It was Chris.

  Owen didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He’d been looking for Chris ever since he disappeared from the condo. And now, here he was.

  But something wasn’t right about him. He still had the blank expression he wore the night he disappeared. His face was gaunt; he looked starved. His clothes were hanging off of his frame. Chris’s hair hung in oily curls over his forehead. Owen couldn’t stand the sight of him; he looked frail.

  For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Owen wanted to say something, but could think of nothing. Even if he could think of something, he knew it would do no good. His best friend was under the spell of the orb.

  Pulling the backpack from his shoulders, Owen took out the orb and held it before him. Chris’s eyes went straight to it, though his blank expression never changed. Owen knew the only way he could control Chris was with the orb, and that he should take Chris with them when they left this plaza.

  And then it struck Owen: Chris must have followed them all the way from San Sebastian, on foot. That was almost too astounding to believe.

  Taking in Chris’s emaciated appearance, Owen realized he should feed him. He looked in the car and saw an open bag of potato chips in the passenger seat. He grabbed it and handed it to Chris.

  Chris only held the bag and looked into Owen’s eyes.

  “Eat those chips,” Owen commanded.

  Chris tilted his head back and poured the chips into his mouth, never taking his eyes off of Owen. Owen shuddered at the sight of his friend staring at him sideways like that; it was too creepy.

  “Chris,” Owen said carefully, “get in the car.”

  Chris started to get into the backseat when Owen heard yelling from the other side of the plaza. He saw Curtis and Doug running toward him. Chris got back out and stared at them.

  They ran up to Owen and stared at Chris nervously.

  “Who’s this?” Curtis asked.

  “A friend of mine,” Owen said, completely aware of the tear tracks on Chris’s cheeks.

  “He’s one of them,” Curtis said. “He’s one of the zombies.”

  “Where did he come from?” Doug asked, looking around the lot.

  “He followed us. We’re taking him with us,” Owen said and waited for the objections.

  “Bullcrap!” There it was, and it was coming from Curtis. Shocker. “What if he snaps and kills us all?”

  “He won’t,” Owen said, holding the orb. “I can control him with this.”

  Curtis snatched the orb from Owen. “I am getting tired of this damn thing!”

  Owen tried to get it back, but Curtis held it away.

  “Come on, guys,” Doug said helplessly. “Don’t fight. We don’t need this right now.”

  Curtis held the orb high above his head, just out of Owen’s reach. “All the animals in that store are in some kind of trance, and I’ll bet it’s because of this thing.”

  Owen stopped trying to retrieve the orb. It was completely still, not so much as a flicker coming from its core. “It’s not even on,” he said to Curtis.

  “How do you know? It could be in standby mode or something. You’ve fallen on it a bunch of times already.”

  Owen thought about that for a second. With the orb in his backpack, it had taken a few beatings. Maybe, during one of those beatings, another pulse had been sent out. A tiny one that only affected creatures with tiny brains.

  But for now, that didn’t matter. Owen wanted the orb back. Exerting only a little bit of force, he jumped up and knocked it out of Curtis’s hand. Owen tried to grab it, but it slipped through his fingers and landed hard on the ground.

  At the moment of impact, a deep-bass thump erupted from the marble ball. The orb began to glow. A swirling light formed in the center and spread outward.

  Everyone stood around it and gawked.

  “I think we made it mad,” Doug said.

  Owen had seen this before. When he had been captured by Michael and Jason and ordered to activate the mysterious object, it had lit up like this and coated most
of downtown with a pulse. Owen was afraid of what would happen now.

  He picked up the orb and ran his fingers across it. He had no idea what he was doing, and it showed. There was a loud humming sound coming from it now. Owen looked back at Chris, whose face started contorting into horrible shapes.

  “Time to go,” Owen said. He hopped into the driver’s seat as Curtis and Doug jumped in on the other side, Curtis riding shotgun.

  Owen put the car into drive and stomped on the gas. He would have to leave Chris behind for now, but would come back for him later—

  The car came to a sudden halt. The tires spun against the asphalt, spewing smoke. Everyone in the car looked out the back windshield to see Chris holding on to the rear bumper.

  He was holding the car in place.

  “Drive!” Curtis screamed.

  “I’m trying!” Owen said. He floored the gas pedal, but that only kicked up more smoke. The smell of burnt rubber stung their noses. Suddenly everyone was forced into the backseat as the car was lifted into the air, the front end facing up. Doug’s face was pressed against the rear windshield as Owen and Curtis fell on top of him. Only D remained seated.

  They were face to face with Chris now. He was holding the car up with his hands. Owen looked him straight in the eyes. They were empty.

  “Where’s the orb?” Owen asked, craning his neck so he could see the others.

  “It’s over here,” Curtis said, grabbing it with his left hand. His head was craned away from it, but he clearly had it in his grasp.

  “Tell him to stop,” Owen ordered, indicating Chris.

  Curtis brought the orb into Chris’s view. “Put us down, you butthole!”

  Chris obliged by throwing the car. Its occupants were tossed around inside as it flew through the air and landed upside down yards away.

  Owen crawled out through the shattered driver’s-side window and looked over to where Chris stood. Someone had joined him. It was the dead man they had seen when they first arrived, and that wasn’t all. The girl from the shoe store was walking toward Owen.

  They all were.

  Owen turned back to the car and flipped it upright. Inside, Curtis and Doug were groaning and bleeding from various cuts on their faces.

  Jumping behind the wheel, Owen tried to restart the car, but it was dead. “We have to get out,” he said to the others.

  They obeyed. All four of them stood around the car, looking for a way to escape. Curtis still had the orb.

  “The other car!” Doug screamed. Owen saw the hatchback sitting on the other side of the approaching zombies.

  “How are we going to get to it?” Curtis asked.

  Suddenly D grabbed their ruined car and lifted it into the air, the same way Chris had done. Owen stared in awe, knowing what was about to happen.

  “Daniel, no!”

  The robot threw the car at the zombies. It fell short and tumbled toward them. Chris dove out of the way, but the others were too late. The car ran them over and continued tumbling toward the hatchback—the only other means of escape.

  “Oh, crap!” Curtis said helplessly.

  The tumbling car rolled up next to the other, giving it the slightest tap on the passenger side.

  “Let’s go,” Owen said, relieved, and they made a break for the undamaged car. Owen went to the middle-aged man and pulled out his keys. He and the blonde were bloody, ruined sacks on the ground now. At that moment, Chris was getting to his feet. Doug ran to the driver’s side and jumped in the back. Curtis was going for the passenger seat but the yellow car was still leaning against theirs.

  Without thinking, Owen picked up the yellow car and tossed it away. Curtis stared, dumbstruck, for a second, then got in the back (D had beaten him to the passenger seat). Owen jumped behind the wheel as everyone got in.

  “He’s coming!” Doug screamed as Chris quickly approached.

  Owen started the car and floored the gas. The car sped out of Birch Plaza, up the hill, and back to the freeway, leaving Chris behind.

  Chapter 32. The Matthews House

  The tiny car raced down the freeway. Owen took the first exit and was now on a lonely highway.

  “Give me the orb,” he called to the backseat where Doug and Curtis were. Curtis handed it to him. Owen drove with one hand on the wheel, the other rubbing the orb’s surface. It rumbled for a second, then quieted and dimmed. “You were right,” he said to Curtis. “This was on the whole time. It was acting like a beacon or something.”

  “Is that how your friend found us?” Curtis asked.

  “I think so. He can’t follow us now, though.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I turned it off.”

  “Are you sure this time?” Curtis’s voice was hysterical.

  “Yes.” This time, Owen was certain. He could feel that the orb was turned off.

  They drove for a few minutes in silence. Owen wasn’t sure where he was going, but he recognized the area. There was a mountain on the right, black against the dark blue sky. If he remembered correctly, they were close to Cullen’s house.

  “Hey, man, I think we should stop. Doug is hurt pretty bad.”

  Owen looked back and saw a huge gash on Doug’s forehead. It was bleeding freely. Curtis was trying to stop it by pressing his shirt against the wound. Owen faced the road again. It was nearly four in the morning, and there was only one place he could think to go now.

  * * *

  The neighborhood brought back a flood of memories as Owen drove through it. He remembered all the times he came here as a kid to play kickball in the middle of the street with Cullen and the other kids.

  Owen fondly remembered Andy Harrison who used to live down the street from Cullen. Everyone used to call him Fart Master, though the kid only farted once in their presence. The name just sounded silly and made everyone laugh.

  As he made his way effortlessly through the neighborhood’s winding roads, Owen recognized everything as if he’d last seen it yesterday instead of two years ago. He turned left onto Eagle Mountain Court, which rose upward. At the end of the road was a one-story house on a small hill. The driveway rose upward to the garage on the side of the house. Fake spider webbing was spread over the bushes in front.

  The Matthews residence.

  Owen parked in the street in front of the house. There was a big silver Ford truck parked in the driveway along with a blue SUV next to it. He wondered if Cullen still lived here. His heart raced, worrying that Cullen may have moved. There was a light shining through thin curtains from a bay window by the front door. Someone was awake.

  Everyone got out of the car except D. Owen told him to stay and that he would come back for him later. Curtis helped Doug up the hilly front yard. Owen walked ahead of them; he wanted to see who was up and about in the living room through the curtain.

  Studying the truck, he wondered if it was Cullen’s or his father’s. It was a newer model. He walked slowly to the window and looked in. He could see inside pretty well, but no one was visible. The light was coming from a desk lamp right next to the window. He looked back to Doug and Curtis and gave them a shrug.

  Curtis gave an exaggerated shrug back. “What does this mean?”

  “I think you guys should stay out of view for now,” Owen said, pointing to the cut on Doug’s forehead and the blood on his and Curtis’s shirts. Owen himself was relatively presentable. He went to the front door, which had a large Halloween-pumpkin sticker on it, and knocked gently while Doug and Curtis stood over by the silver truck. A full minute went by and no one answered. He knocked harder. The front-porch light came on, startling him.

  The door opened and a young, dark-haired woman stood before him. She looked irritated. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Owen looked at the others by the truck, then back again to the woman. “Is Cullen Matthews home?”

  “Who?”

  “Cullen Matthews. I think he lives here.”

  She thought about this for a moment. “Coll
in?”

  “Yes.” Owen wondered if he heard correctly.

  “One moment, please.” She closed the front door again. Owen stood there, waiting. It was getting pretty chilly. A minute later, the door opened again and a tall young man was there, looking groggy.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  Owen stared at the man for a moment, not saying anything. He looked familiar, yet different. He had short brown hair and green eyes. His lashes were very thick and dark, his eyebrows thin, as if waxed. He stood a few feet taller than Owen and was wearing only a pair of blue boxers.

  “Cullen?” Owen said carefully.

  The man studied him for a long second, and then realization dawned on him. “Owen?”

  Owen smiled. “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “Holy crap!” the young man yelled and hugged him. “Where the hell have you been, man? It’s been years.”

  “Oh, you know, seein’ the sights.” It was like old times. Owen could feel the huge smile on his own face.

  His friend let him go and studied him again. “Well, come in, damn it. We’re letting the bugs in.”

  Owen hesitated. “I have a couple of friends out here, too.”

  Cullen saw Doug and Curtis standing by the truck. “Why are they so beat up?”

  “I’ll explain later. One of them needs some first aid. Is it okay if they come in?”

  Cullen nodded absently, still staring at them.

  * * *

  Doug sat down on the toilet while Curtis tended to his cut forehead. Owen stood outside the bathroom, watching. Cullen was right behind him.

  “What happened?” he asked Owen.

  “We had a car accident on the way here.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

  Owen could feel his friend’s eyes on him, so he turned to face him. Cullen was smiling in disbelief.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Cullen said. “We thought you were dead. We put fliers up and everything. Pictures of your dumb self were everywhere.”