Randy sniffled and nodded against her chest. He was tired. It had been a long day and he hadn’t played with kids anywhere near his age for months. Abby was his only playmate for the past six months and she was gone as well. Poor Randy’s hyperactive mind couldn’t take all the change happening around him and the added stimulus of new people didn’t help. Poor guy had overloaded on reality.
Charles inadvertently made a fist with his bad hand and yelped out in pain. He let out a stream of profanity that could curdle milk, if any were to be had.
Randy looked back at his father with a vaguely evil smirk on his face. “Grounded for a week buddy.”
*****
Uno was the card game of choice for the Williams family. No other game allowed for blatant cheating, conniving, and tomfoolery in their household. The boys almost always played versus the girls on teams, and it was always a great time for everyone. STIG had a few Uno decks, and when everyone retired to the office area to go to bed Patty saw one of the decks and snagged it. When the two Williams boys meandered their way back to their family cube she had the deck all shuffled.
They played cards for an hour, and things went very well. Randy and Charles seemed to have gotten over the friction caused by Randy’s outburst at his new friend Alan. Patty had even started to forget about the faces of the dead people outside the building. There were a lot of dead faces to forget. When they had finally reached their full of Draw Fours Charles excused himself and went upstairs to find his nightly pain pill.
Patty kissed Randy on the head and went into the bathroom to do her business. She looked at her drawn face in the faint light of the solar lamps. Several other women washed their faces using as little water as they could. She did the same. It was refreshing, but she definitely missed taking a shower in the morning. She had no idea how good they had it back at the school. If she could only take back her decision to come here…
Once she’d wrapped things up Patty headed back to the cube. While they were playing cards earlier her new “co-worker” Tony brought over a dark sheet for them to use as a makeshift doorway. She unfolded the sheet and used some of the string he’d left for them to attach it across the way. It took her about ten minutes, but the end result was much more privacy.
She let herself into the little home and asked her son out loud what he thought, “Randy whatcha think? It isn’t exactly Fort Knox, but it’s better than nothing right?”
No answer.
She looked over at his bed and realized it was empty. Her heart started to sink as the sheet was pulled away. Charles popped in.
“Knock knock.” He noticed the look on her face, “what’s wrong?”
“Randy is AWOL.” She presented his empty bed.
There was a quiet knock on the frame of the cubicle. Charles turned and used the good arm to pull the sheet back. The tall blonde guy with curly hair named Tony was there, smiling.
“Hey Patty, hi Charlie.” His natural charm sickened Charles.
“Tony, what’s up?” Patty was mildly irritated at being bothered with a missing kid to deal with.
“Any chance you can take a few hours off a guard’s hand right now? One of the night guys, Gerald, seems to be sick and we’re looking for someone to cover his shift. You game?” Tony scratched his ass crack absently as he asked. He may have been good looking, but he wasn’t really what you’d call “appropriate” around a lady.
Patty sighed and rolled her eyes. Now was not the time. Just as she was about to answer him, Charles spoke up and interrupted her.
“Go ahead. My official job is child wrangler anyway. Plus he’s my kid.” Charles shrugged, and then winced from the pain in his arm.
Patty was frankly a little surprised. She nodded in agreement; picked up the backpack and rifle she got from Adrian and gave her husband a soft kiss on the cheek. “Okay. I’ll be back in a few hours I guess. You get Randy back here and get some sleep.”
“Okay, be vigilant like Adrian used to say.”
“Like he says Charles. Like he says. He’s still alive out there.” She smiled and joined Tony.
Charles chuckled softly to himself. Yeah, she was right he thought. If anyone is still alive out there, it’s going to be Adrian. That man could eat nails and shit tacks. Tougher than anyone he’d ever met. And with that, Charles meandered off to locate his adventurous son.
*****
When Charles had reached the bottom floor of the office building portion of STIG he was pleasantly surprised to find Brian and Darryl sitting in a waiting area at the bottom of the stairs. The two men were having a conversation when Charles walked past.
“Hey Charles, how was day two?” Brian asked.
Charles stopped and swayed a little bit. The pain killer he’d taken was starting to kick in a bit. “Oh wonderful Brian. Could be worse I suppose. I’m in a building surrounded by undead, my job is babysitter, I’ve got a broken arm, I just lost twelve hands of Uno to my smartass son, and now he’s gone missing.”
Brian and Darryl exchanged a laugh. Darryl spoke then, “You know Chuck I think I saw Randy take off with that little guy.. uh.. what’s his name? Mary and Alex’s son?” He looked to Brian for an answer.
“Alan,” Brian answered.
Charles’ face tightened into a frown. “They scuffled earlier. If I know my son, he’s up to no good here. Any idea where they went?”
“Pretty positive they went into the plant.”
Brian sat forward, picking up on the father’s concern. “Is this going to be a problem Charles? Want some help?”
“Yeah the faster we get to Randy the less likely we are to break up a fight. Randy isn’t a brawler, but he’s clever enough to trick Alan into doing something stupid that’ll get him hurt.”
The three men all started towards the hall that led to the manufacturing floor. Charles filled them in on Randy’s checkered past in making friends. He’d been diagnosed with a smidge of ADHD and social anxiety years past and it always became worse around other kids. If you stuck Randy with an adult though, he was a perfect little angel. The three men entered the two way doors into the plant and hollered out to the two boys. The only thing they heard was the dull echo of their own voices.
“They’re probably in the back warehouse climbing the left over racking. Damn kids think they’re monkeys.” Darryl shook his head and laughed. They started walking towards the rear wall of the plant where the opening into the warehouse was.
Ten steps into their journey they heard a hollow metallic bang from ahead. It almost sounded like someone had smashed a sledgehammer into a metal drum.
Brian’s face drained of color. “That’s a gunshot.”
“Oh shit, did they try to get outside?” Charles blurted. Brian drew his pistol and the three men took off running. They ran the hundred and fifty feet through the plant waiting for another bang but none came. When they burst into the center of the warehouse there was no one to be found. Darryl pointed to the side of the warehouse at the hazmat materials room. The heavy door was slightly ajar, and a faint light crept out of the gap.
Brian licked his lips and looked at Charles’ face. “Fuck.”
They trotted over to the chained door and Brian dug his keys out of his pocket. He tossed them to Darryl and pointed his weapon at the gap in the doorway. Darryl searched for the key to the heavy padlock and slipped it in the tumbler quickly. With a twist it popped open and he pulled the chain apart, tugging the doors open and stepping away.
Standing with his back to them was little Randy. His arms were at his side and dangling in his left hand he held a small silver revolver. The smell of gunpowder was on the air. On the smooth concrete floor at his feet was the body of Alan, the boy he’d punched in the nose earlier that day. Randy stood there motionless in front of canister after canister marked “SILANE GAS: EXTREMELY COMBUSTIBLE.”
Charles had no words. He knew what had happened and had no idea what to say. He looked right to Darryl, and then left to Brian with pleading eyes.
; Finally Brian broke the silence, “Randy, son, can I get you to put that weapon down please?” His voice was calm, soothing.
Randy stood still for what seemed like a millennia before turning to face the two men. His face was covered in a fine mist of blood. Charles noticed there was no emotion on his face, and that frightened him even more than the blood. Randy looked down at the snub nosed pistol in his hand, then back up at his dad. His eyes questioned, and then invaded Charles.
“Son, do what the Chief says please,” Charles asked his boy quietly.
“Why should I? Everyone else gets to carry a gun around here? Why can’t I?” Randy’s brows furrowed in anger.
Brian answered him, “Well it seems like you may have shot Alan there, and if you remember from yesterday Randy, if you point your gun at someone who is alive, you give up the right to have that weapon.”
Randy looked over his shoulder at the body of the little boy Alan. “But I shot him in the head guys. It’ll be okay, he won’t come back.” Randy had lost touch with reality.
Charles tried to breathe but couldn’t. His son was a murderer.
“Randy why did you shoot Alan?” Brian continued to ask questions, trying to keep the boy distracted while Darryl took slow and painful steps into the room, trying to close the gap to the boy.
“He deserved it. He called me a fucking retard and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of never getting my way. I’m fed up with everyone acting like I’m here to be ignored or picked on.” Randy finally exhibited an emotion; anger.
Charles took a step forward. “Son no one is ignoring you, trust me. I love you and want you happy, and if I ignored you then that’s on me. Please don’t be angry anymore, tell me what I can do to make you happy.” Charles’ heart was breaking. His former actions and decisions were flooding in over him. He felt ten thousand pounds of guilt slowly suffocating him, one bad choice at a time.
“You never even asked me if I wanted to come here dad. You and mom just decided everything. I miss my room, I miss my games, I miss Abby, I miss Gilbert, and I miss Adrian too. You took my whole life and ruined it." The pistol in his little hand shook with rage.
Brian raised his pistol slightly, putting the front gun sight on Randy’s legs, ready for a shot should Randy threaten the men. Instead Randy slowly lifted the gun to his side and pressed the muzzle to his temple.
“What if I make this decision all by myself dad? What if I shoot myself in the head right now? How would that make you feel? At least I have the right to ruin my own life!” He yelled, pulling back the hammer on the gun.
Charles dropped to his knees on the hard floor, oblivious to the damage he did to his kneecaps. All his soul was bared now, pleading with his son not to do it, “God please no Randy, think of Abby, think of your mother. If you do this, they’ll never get over it. They love you so much you can’t even understand. I love you so much I can’t even tell you….!” Charles had tears of pain and fear streaming down his face. Darryl had frozen solid, unable to move in the moment.
“You know what dad, you’re right.” Randy backed away, further into the room filled with explosive chemicals. He looked at Darryl and Brian and suddenly Charles saw fear on his son’s face. “I’m sorry to make this decision for you without asking for your input. But as you can see, my dad’s set a bad example for me.”
As fast as a mongoose Randy spun and pointed the gun at the dozens of containers of Silane gas, and pulled the trigger.
*****
Patty looked out the windows at the mobs of dead people walking around. They seemed far more agitated now than earlier in the day. Tony sat next to her on an abandoned desk, leaning his back against a wall so he could peer out the windows. His expression was emotionless.
“You think they’re acting… you know, weirder than normal?” Patty asked him.
“Well, when you’ve watched them as much as we have, you start to notice random patterns in their behavior. I know that sounds weird, but they definitely act stranger at certain times,” Tony answered her absently.
Patty was intrigued. “Like when?”
“The last time they acted really weird was when we had that dysentery outbreak a few months back. We had a lot of people die. It was literally shitty. It’s almost like they can sense when bad shit is about to go down. Fucking creepy.”
Just as he finished speaking the world outside the window gleamed with a bright white light. Patty noticed in the flash of light that all the dead had been looking in the same direction, towards the rear of the plant. She turned to peer in the direction of the burst of light.
A terrible roar filled her ears, and she was flung against the frame of the windows in front of her as if the hand of God had reached down and swatted her like an insect.
*****
The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth as Patty regained consciousness. Her ears were ringing painfully and she couldn’t hear anything. She realized her body, head to toe, was bruised and battered. Breathing caused a stabbing pain in her side and she immediately held her breath against the pain. Shallow breaths didn’t hurt as much.
She was very cold, almost freezing. With tremendous effort she rolled over on the desk she was lying on. Her confusion was overwhelming. Her hearing was gone, her body was in pain and somehow she had gotten on top of a desk outside, and somewhere up high. She thought it must be a bad dream. The ringing in her ears faded somewhat as she blinked enough debris out of her eyes to look around.
Before her vision cleared her diminished hearing revealed screams of pain and panic. Dozens of voices cried out in the cold moonlight begging for help. With a grunt and a hundred lightning strikes of pain she sat up, dangling her legs off the desk.
The back end of the office was gone. The doorway to the center of the floor was obliterated as was the entire floor beyond that. Her blurry eyes cleared more, and she realized the entire back half of the office building was eradicated. Looking up and further away she saw what remained of the long building that had stretched out into the parking lot. The rough metal skeleton of the factory and warehouse was laid out bare before her like the ribcage of a fallen giant. A giant crater extended out from the back end where the chemicals had been stored. She was reminded of the aftermath of the Oklahoma City bombing.
Below her she could see the tattered remnants of the second and first floor of the office building. Bodies of the injured and the dead were cast about like bloody matchsticks. Many were hurt, and most were dead. On the ground she could see that the tidal wave of undead had flooded into the destroyed building like a dam had broken. They were murdering the few injured on the ground with startling ferocity. The smell of burning flesh and carnage was strong, even over the odor of scorched chemicals. Flames burned all over the ground. Patty could see in the far rear of the building where the fuel storage was there were jets of flame issuing upwards out of canisters of chemicals. She heard the rumble of an explosion coming and shielded her eyes. One of the cylinders exploded loud enough to rumble her chest. When she looked back there were sheets of flame on the ground where the flammable materials had landed. They burned in vivid colors as their toxic chemistry reacted in the fire.
It looked like the wrath of an angry God. All Patty could think of was her husband and son. She suddenly felt the pang of guilt over agreeing with Charles, and allowing her broken family to come here. Bringing them here to die. The pain of leaving her daughter behind transformed into relief.
Next to her she heard a sharp gasp of pain. She turned quickly to see the source and felt her ribs cry out in agony. She froze solid for a moment and finished turning in slow motion, breathing carefully. Crumpled on the floor of the destroyed office was Tony.
She got off the desk and went to him, carefully kneeling at his side, fighting to contain the pain in her side. He was hurt terribly. From face to hip his flesh was scorched and raw. She could see a shard of metal the size of her hand embedded in his hip, letting dark blood flow out steadily. His eyes were wild with pain and he reache
d out to clutch her arm desperately. Words of solace escaped her.
Tony painfully inhaled a full chest of air into his lungs, and stammered out a single instruction to her, “D.. d… don’t let me b…b….become one of th.. th…. them.”
Patty’s rifle was nowhere to be found.
February 4th
I feel like dying tonight. Legitimately curling up into a ball, and rotting away.
I won’t though. I can’t. People are depending on me, and I can’t give up. I made a promise to myself and Cassie that I would be a better person in her memory, and that’s what I plan on doing. I will be the better person.
I am a better person.
But I’m not good enough yet. There’s still work to do before I cash out my chips.
STIG is gone.
It’s just gone. Annihilated. There’s almost nothing left there. Everyone is dead.
Well. Not everyone. On the night of the 2nd we heard the explosions that destroyed the STIG building. First there was one huge boom, then a series of smaller ones. Each lit up the night sky like a miniature sunrise. Abby and I sat by the windows watching the glow over the trees and hills for half an hour. We kept trying to radio the STIG folks, but there was no answer.
Eventually Gilbert came over the radio and said he’d be right over. By the time he arrived Abby was already an emotional wreck. She was sitting in the kitchen at the table trying to contain her sobs and fucking that all up. When Gilbert came in he went right to the table and sat next to her. He held her hand and let her get it all out. I tried to comfort her too but Gilbert had it under control. When he gave her a hug he and I exchanged glances over her shoulder, and we both knew we had to go find out what happened. Time was a factor.
Midnight (Adrian's Undead Diary) Page 26
