The Azrael (Book 4): Tricon

by Gagnon, Jesse

  Noises behind her startled Samantha and she turned to face what it was. A small herd of massive Azrael was inches from her. She froze like a deer in headlights while the largest of the group sniffed her mere inches from her face. She struggled to gain control of her body to keep it from shaking. Its breath smelled worse than the foul juice that still dripped down her face. Her stomach grumbled and she felt it coming again. Not now...please, not now. It built up and settled in the back of her throat once more. The Azrael sniffed the top of her head and followed the juice that descended her forehead. The fluid settled on the tip of her nose and dripped on her upper lip. The foul scent of the Azrael’s breath blew into her face. The warmth of its breath didn’t help with the aroma. It was turning her stomach. She couldn’t fight the pressure building up within her. Again, her body betrayed her and a stream of projectile puke shot out at the Azrael. It pulled back and grunted angrily. It wiped its face off and studied Samantha with a bit more curiosity.

  Samantha shut her eyes and awaited the end. The Azrael responded with a ferocious roar inches from her while the heat of its breath heated it. She hummed a song to herself to prepare her mind for the assault. Her pants warmed when she urinated in them. Tears trickled from her eyes that she couldn’t control.

  A vision of her aunt infected with the virus entered her mind. She heard her clawing and growling outside her bedroom door. Samantha barely made it to her room in time. As she closed the door, the knob turned and pushed in towards her. It sounded nothing like the woman that raised her. The virus did a good job at removing all traces of her personality. She remembered how she survived that moment. The image of Aunt Josie’s brains on her softball bat reminded her of what it means to survive.

  The sound of several feet moving through the dense thicket nearby alarmed her and she tensed up, knowing the time had come. Fortunately, the footsteps faded into the ambiance of the woods. She opened her eyes and she was alone...and alive.

  “Shit...shit...shit.” She mumbled to herself in a comforting cadence.

  Her pants were slowly becoming cool as the warm urine that expelled from her body moments before chilled from the breeze. At that rate, she was going to end up dying alone or worse. The idea of becoming like Aunt Josie frightened her.

  Dehydrated, hungry, and cold, Samantha collected her thoughts and headed south. She pulled out her aunt’s smart phone from her bag. A beacon moved quickly down a road that paralleled the Mississippi River. After a few minutes it stopped. They must have taken the car, she supposed. She had an app on her phone that her aunt used to track her. She disliked the app, thinking that it invaded her privacy. Yet, it was part of the deal. She gets a phone but the tracking app came with it. She managed to slip her phone in the woman’s bag the night before at the last house just in case they decided to follow her. She didn’t like surprises and planned on retrieving it eventually. She kept both charged with a portable charger that used batteries. Maybe it was time to trust someone again, she thought. Travelling forty miles south through the forest would take her roughly fifteen hours on foot. She hoped that they stayed put long enough.

  Before she headed south, she removed her pants and panties, retrieved a replacement from her bag and put them on. The urine scent may draw unwanted attention. She left them in the dirt.

  “Should I trust them Aunt Josie?” Samantha asked in a whisper as she trekked through the woods. She swung a stick the length of her arm between bushes in front of her breaking apart spider webs that blocked her path. “I guess I have no choice.” She admitted to herself.

  It was the first and only time she placed her phone in someone else’s possession. Had she done the right thing? Something about the two wouldn’t escape her mind, maybe because they saw through her traps. Samantha had never been caught before. She worried that next time if she were captured then they wouldn’t just let her go. The concept of rape crossed her mind and she quickened her pace.

  “I can’t lose them!” She worried.

  Chapter 15

  Get Dressed

  The day after the movie Taliah could not stop talking about it.

  “Can you believe the hobo was actually the villain of the movie?”

  “Oui, it was such a surprise.” François answered sarcastically.

  “I’m still in shock. Jackson Studley really sold that role. I believed the anger and mistrust he had for those that lived above his sewer home. What a ride!” Taliah exclaimed. She placed her hand on her forehead and ran her fingers through her hair.

  “Oui, it was something.” François got up from the table and headed for his room.

  “Where you goin’?” She asked a little annoyed that he left. She still wanted to talk about the movie.

  “I have to shower and prepare for the trip.”

  “The trip? What trip?”

  “Did Jimmy not tell you?”

  “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then I will explain when I am finished. Clean your plates. The staff are not your slaves.” François entered his room and started the shower. The only plates on the table were his. She cleaned hers earlier.

  “Asshole!” She mumbled.

  “I heard that, such a filthy mouth on a pretty girl.” François hollered from the other room.

  She grabbed his dishes and washed them in the sink. She dried them with a towel and put them away.

  “Clean!” She yelled.

  By this time, François was already in the shower. He was singing some French song that she couldn’t’ understand.

  “Somehow I feel like I’m the slave. He doesn’t do anything around here.” Taliah grumbled as she picked up his shoes that were scattered across the living room. His coat was draped over the couch and he had another plate of half-eaten eggs on the table next to the recliner. This man was a slob! Sure, he was charming and handsome but his cleaning habits were unforgivable. She finished cleaning up the place and headed to her room, which was next to his.

  François exited his room with only a towel around his waist a few feet from Taliah. His stomach was chiseled along with everything else. A trail of hair left the bottom of his belly button and disappeared beneath his towel. Water pellets cascaded over his chest muscles in slow motion in her mind like some romantic movie. His hands were above his head and he pulled his hair into a ponytail. Her heartbeat raced and he noticed.

  “Were you just working out?” He asked while wrapping a black hair tie around his hair.

  “Working...what?” Taliah was confused. Her eyes were still stuck on his body.

  “Your heartrate is elevated, Love. Were you working out or something?” He repeated.

  “Working out, no. No...I wasn’t working out. It’s...” She lost her train of thought.

  “Be ready in fifteen. François is getting dressed.” He ordered and entered his room again.

  Returning to her senses, Taliah remembered what caused her heartrate to increase.

  “I had to clean up your mess you left everywhere. You are a pig. That’s why my heartrate was elevated.” Taliah retorted and emphasized the last word in François’ accent.

  “What mess? Maybe it was the dog. Simpson must have done it.”

  “Samson, the dog’s name is Samson. And for your information, the dog has been outside since yesterday.” She argued inches from the door.

  “Ten minutes, hurry.” François continued ignoring her tone.

  Taliah grunted in frustration and stomped to her room. She searched her closet for something to wear. Dozens of outfits were arranged inside, none of which were hers. She had no idea where the clothes came from or how she would look in them. She slid each one across the closet rod and examined them carefully. She had no clue what to dress for.

  “What are we doing François?” She hollered.

  “It’s a surprise...eight minutes.” He replied.

  “I need to know what to dress for. Should I wear pants...a dress...a swimsuit?” She asked.

  “Sure.” He an
swered.

  “Sure? Are you kidding me?”

  Infuriated Taliah stormed out of her room. François was inspecting himself in the mirror near the front door wearing a suit. It was a tan color and his expensive leather shoes matched it perfectly. He wore a white blouse underneath that was unbuttoned down to his chest revealing a patch of hair and a gold necklace. He also wore an expensive pair of Versace sunglasses. The cologne that he wore influenced a sigh from Taliah. He attached golden cufflinks with diamonds in the middle and walked into her room.

  “Five minutes...Put on this dress.” He pointed towards a specific garment. He exited her room, finished attaching the cufflinks and examined his image again near the front door. “...third from the right. A pair of matching shoes is in the sixteenth box form the left on the bottom row of your closet floor. “Hurry!” François instructed with intricate detail.

  Taliah gave him a blank stare and wondered why he knew so much about the contents of her closet.

  “So...the third from the right and the thirteenth from the left?” She asked.

  “Sixteenth...trust me. I know fashion.” He admitted and winked.

  Taliah closed her door and searched for the dress in her closet. It was a brown dress with tan trim. It looked expensive and felt extremely soft. She rubbed the fabric in between her fingers.

  “Two minutes, Taliah, hurry up.” François shouted.

  She removed her clothes, sweatpants and a t-shirt, and tossed them into her hamper. She studied the small bump on her stomach and sucked it in. “Gotta lay off the snacks.” She self-confessed.

  Taliah slid the dress over her body smoothly and she was amazed at the fit as she studied her frame in the full sized mirror on the interior door of her closet. She counted the shoeboxes and retrieved the sixteenth box from the left on the bottom row. The pumps were like the dress, brown with tan trim. The toe was open and she slipped her feet into them. It was a perfect fit as well.

  She awkwardly wobbled outside of her room. She hadn’t worn heels in a long time.

  “How do I look?” She asked posing seductively for François.

  “Beautiful.” François admitted as he helped place a matching brown shawl around her shoulders.

  “So, what’s the plan? Where are we going?” She asked once more.

  “So many questions. Trust that François will provide you with an enjoyable day.” He answered.

  François escorted her outside assisting her movements as they moved towards a black Ferrari. She noticed that the body of the vehicle had been reinforced with a thicker plated armor. Yet, it retained most of its aerodynamics. She rubbed her hand across the door and it was smooth to the touch. François opened her door. She swept her legs in while holding her dress closed as she sat in the passenger seat. The split that ran up her right leg stopped three-fourths up her thigh. François closed the door and entered the driver’s side quickly. He started the engine. It purred quietly. He gave her a large grin.

  “I have a friend that lives in the mountains. He is hosting a small gathering and invited you.”

  “Me? He invited you and you’re bringing me, right?” She asked.

  “Oui, inviting me is like inviting you. Is it not?”

  “No, no it’s not.”

  “Don’t be like this. We are going to have a great time. François will make sure of this.” He admitted.

  “So you say.”

  “Make-up is in the glove compartment. Apply lightly, don’t look...”

  “I know how to put on make-up, thank you.” She interrupted.

  “Was only trying to help.”

  “Save it for those that need it.”

  Taliah opened the glove compartment and retrieved a whole make-up kit. It was unused and wasn’t the kind you’d find at a department store. They drove off at a reckless speed towards the mountains. Taliah wondered if Jimmy knew about their trip. It was the first time that she left the property since her arrival.

  Chapter 16

  David’s New Look

  The lights flickered several times before finally extinguishing altogether. Another day closer to Chicago and to the exterminator of the disease on this planet. Decorating the halls of the large facility were bodies half eaten and dismembered in no real order. Each corpse had the same massive cavity where their internal organs once occupied. Hundreds of gallons of blood flooded the hallway floor and pieces of human flesh were scattered throughout the crimson pool. Red lights flashed to a rhythm that lulled David to sleep.

  David’s body waded through the fluid towards the internal room that appeared to be a cafeteria. As his body pushed through the door, the blood lake poured into the room as if a large red paint bucket spilled into it. A pile of Azrael cadavers was stacked in front of the only exit to the female dormitory. About twenty humans remained inside. He could smell their fear and it made him smile.

  About a dozen Azrael searched the facility for stragglers that were hiding or those dumb enough to resist. As David became more aware of his limitations, he also discovered that he is unique amongst the Azrael. He originally believed that it was his will or his strength that commanded the results that he witnessed. However, he is not sheep like those Azrael right outside hunting humans nor is he completely in control like those defects that dared oppose him.

  Screams in the distance excited him and a calming wave of ecstasy brought him to the dream world. He didn’t bother fighting it. It had been a while since he last slept.

  In the horizon, a large field of colorful flowers stretched as far as the eyes could see. A farmhouse deep in the distance burned a bright orange and a black plume of smoke bellowed from the structure. A young girl cried out in pain. Her voice was familiar.

  David moved through the flowers as if he were floating above them. However, the house remained in the distance, beyond his reach. He forced his body towards the house. His younger sister, Janelle, was burning and needed his help. Still, the flowers passed by as if he was travelling forward but he remained the same distance away from the house.

  Gradually, the black smoke covered the sky, burning everything into darkness. The smoke settled down towards the field, suffocating the air David breathed. He struggled to take in air and coughed. The flowers immediately wilted from the smoke and ash that littered the vast field. Her screams intensified and urged David to follow. As he moved through the thick dark gray smoke, bodies brushed by and bumped into him. It began as only a few but as he approached her screams they became a growing mob that grabbed at each other wildly. They grunted and growled in response to each other. He attempted to push through them but quickly became overwhelmed.

  “David!” The girl shouted.

  He remembered that voice, that scream, and that particular pitch. It was the last thing he heard Janelle say before she died. He became angered and forced his way through the crowd. They clawed, bit, and struck him with their fists attempting to stop him. He ignored their assault and carried on with his attempts at reaching Janelle.

  The flames finally broke through the smoke guiding David towards the house that continued to burn out of control. Janelle was inside. He knew it. It was a play-by-play of what happened before. Only this time he had the strength to save her. He was strong like their father...stronger! The heat of the fire struck him in the face causing him to wince and shield his face from the heat. Her screams persisted.

  “I’m coming.” He mumbled. The heat of the scorching flames burned his skin and it caused terrible pain. A large trough full of water was near the barn and it steamed as the heat caused the water to evaporate. David grabbed a blanket that hung on the clothesline and soaked it in the water. He wrapped it around his body and broke through the front door.

  The steam from the blanket burned his skin immediately causing it to bubble. She continued to wail from upstairs in her room. She was trapped. He ascended the stairs as the house was falling apart on top of him. Her door was locked and the knob was scolding to the touch. He charged through it like a fullback b
reaking through the defensive line. He tripped over the blanket and stumbled to the floor. He landed on his face and rolled into her bed.

  “David!” She called out. She sounded right on top of him.

  He brought himself to his knees and turned towards her sweet voice. She sat in the corner of the room with her knees in front of her only ten feet away. Her entire body was charred and her hair was burnt off revealing a scorched scalp. He crawled towards her. How could she still be alive? Once he was an arm’s length away, she stood to her feet. Her eyes were gray and she reeked of Azrael. It frightened him. She died when they were kids. Why was she like this? She let out a hoarse, smoker’s lung sounding wail that tore through his eardrums.

  Suddenly, she burst into flames and could only whine weakly. She was in agonizing pain but her vocal cords were dried up so she barely made a hiss.

  “Help me David! Help me!” Her words were barely audible and she slowly burned to ash. She’s dead. His name is David. His sister’s name was Janelle. His name was David. His name was...what was his name?

  He awoke and time had progressed through the night. Beams of light invaded the room where windows provided the invitation. The smell of burning wood, plastic, hair and flesh lingered in the air. He noticed that his clothes were missing. His skin was smooth and was without hair. What happened through the night? Was his dream a reality?