by Lowry, C. L.
Th group crawled through the pile of rubble at the front entrance and entered the train station. The abandoned station looked like something out of a horror movie. Every inch of the building told a story of carnage. The damaged signs, broken benches, and caved-in walls did not give the group much hope. What they needed in that moment was food. The 30th Street Train Station was filled with stores and vending machines that could not possibly have been cleaned out.
“It looks like a bomb went off in here,” Abigail said.
“It probably did,” Duncan uttered. “Look over there.”
The group looked in the direction that Duncan was pointing. Bodies were sprawled out all over the floor near a few of the ticket gates. They were all lifeless. The remains of some were charred, matching the fire and smoke damage that covered that portion of the train station.
“We need to leave right now,” Carol said in a terrified voice.
“Leave and do what, Carol? Starve to death? We need to see if there is food in here.”
Although she did not want to admit it, Orlando was right. They were out of food and needed to find some quick. Word had gotten out that violent groups had taken over supermarkets, gas stations, and convenience stores, so the group had no choice but to check uncommon locations. Taking the risk and trying to check a supermarket would not have been a good decision. They could not risk running into one of those groups because they had no way to defend themselves. Duncan was a pretty tall guy, standing at six-foot-seven, but he only weighed about 170 pounds. He was more of a marathon runner than a fighter. Orlando was average height and around the same weight. In all honesty, Carol and Abigail had more fight in them than the males who were escorting them in through the train station.
Carol staggered behind the group. Something did not sit right with her. She looked back at the charred corpses that the group spotted when they first walked in. Her intuition was telling her to head back to the apartment building, but she did not want to leave her boyfriend and friends.
“Hey, guys, look,” Abigail announced, spotting a vending machine that was illuminated.
“Jackpot!” Duncan shouted as he rushed the machine to get to the contents.
The others ran behind him toward the machine. Everyone hovered over the machine except Carol, who was still lingering in the back. Her head turned back and forth as she continued scanning the environment. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “Carol, get your ass over here before Duncan eats all of the chips!” Abigail shouted.
All three of their eyes lit up once they spotted the few snacks that remained behind the cracked glass of the vending machine. Two bags of Cool Ranch© Doritos©, a bag of plain Lay’s© chips, a bag of barbeque flavored Lay’s chips, and two bags of Cheetos© remained. Pressing his hand against the button pad, Duncan waited a few seconds for the machine to respond. The signal with the price of the item appeared on the vending machine. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. I’m not paying for this shit,” Duncan barked before cocking his arm back and elbowing the glass. He attempted another strike on the machine, to an avail. The glass still did not shatter. Orlando stood on the side of the machine and began shaking it, hoping the snacks would fall from the slots.
Carol laughed as she watched her friends put in so much effort to get some chips. A sudden movement in the shadows caught her attention. What was that? She stared at the area but did not see anything. The only light that was in the room came from the moon shining through the windows and from the vending machine. Every other light in the station had been broken out.
More movement caught Carol’s attention, this time from the area of the charred corpses. Her mouth dropped when she noticed one of the corpses stood up. Then another. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but unfortunately, everything she was observing was happening. “Duncan,” Carol called out. Her voice cracked out of fear. “Orlando. Abby.”
“What?” Abigail responded, still busy trying to shake the vending machine.
“We—we—”
“We what, girl?” Abigail asked, turning around to see what Carol wanted. “Oh, shit,” she blurted out.
Dark figures began to emerge from the shadows. Dozens of them. Slowly lurking from the darkness, they surrounded the group. Duncan grabbed Carol’s arm and pulled her behind him. “We don’t want any trouble,” he mumbled.
The dark figures continued pacing back and forth, making it difficult for the group to determine who they should focus on. A deep growl startled them all. Along with the dark figures emerged three pit bulls from the shadows. A hefty man had the dogs secured, using chains as leashes. Each of the pit bulls were ready to be let loose. Their growls turned into repeated barking.
Orlando was sweating. Abigail tried inching behind him but ended up more so behind Duncan with Carol. While Duncan jumped into protector mode, fear left Orlando stuck. Sweat dripped down the scared man’s face as he eyed each of the figures who had surrounded them. It was unknown if terror or instincts kicked in, but Orlando was now in a full sprint toward the entrance of the train station. He did not even bother looking back to see if his friends had followed along.
Just as he trampled over the rubble on the ground, he could hear other steps doing the same. However, those steps were not from Duncan, Carol, or Abigail. The steps were from the three pit bulls that were closing in on Orlando. As soon as he took off running, the hefty man let the dogs off their chained leashes. The pursuit was short, as one of the dogs sunk its teeth into Orlando’s left calf. On his next step, Orlando’s left leg buckled, and he stumbled onto the floor.
The pit bulls wasted no time diving onto the fallen man’s back and sinking their teeth into the first portion of his body that became available. Orlando screamed as he felt the pain from the vicious bites to his arm, neck, and side.
“Orlando!” Abigail screamed as she ran toward the injured man.
“Abby, no!” Carol yelled, trying to stop her friend.
Unfortunately, her friend reacted without thinking. Stomping over the debris, she stopped and grabbed a rusted metal pipe. Abigail swung at one of the pit bulls, cracking down on its back. The struck pit bull did not budge. The dogs were locked on to Orlando’s limbs as he continued screaming. Blood lined their mouths. He tried to fight them off but was unsuccessful. The force of their bites was excruciating.
Abigail lifted the pipe again to deliver another strike. She was struck on the side of the face and knocked to the ground. “Don’t hit my dog again, bitch.” The deep voice of the hefty man echoed in the abandoned train station. He stood over Abigail, who had blood dripping from her face from the strike. She never saw him creeping up behind her with the chains and swinging them at her. The metal links split the side of her face wide open.
“Leave her alone!” Carol yelled.
The hefty man picked his head up and looked at Carol and Duncan. A smile spread across his round face, revealing several missing teeth. The ones that did remain were dark and rotted. It did not take long for the smile to turn into a grimace. The man stepped over Abigail and headed toward Carol. His bloody chains were dragged behind him. The dogs continued mauling Orlando as the man approached. The other figures followed suit and closed in on the frightened couple. Duncan and Carol backed up against the vending machine. There was nowhere else to go.
CHAPTER 15
The man let out a low growl. Jin cautiously looked on with the gunmen by his side. The mutation was occurring, but it seemed to be much slower than the usual occurrences. The man was on all fours and began screaming in agony. As he screamed, Jin noticed his teeth began falling out. However, they weren’t just falling out, but they were being pushed out. Fangs appeared to be pushing through the bloody man’s gums. The only difference seemed to be the color of the blood.
“This is astonishing,” Jin uttered under his breath.
“Look at his eyes,” one of the gunmen said.
Jin noticed it too. The whites of the man’s eyes were changing. They were turning bla
ck, matching the color of the blood that was dripping from the mouth of the mutating man. The man began clawing at the floor, trying to get to Jin. He was relentless. The man’s hair began falling out. Jin was fascinated at the mutation. Although similar to the beasts that Jin had previously encountered, the mutated man in front of him did not completely transform.
He did not increase in size, which most people did during the previous mutations. Rather than becoming covered in thick fur, his hair fell out. Calluses also began developing all over his skin. It was the gunman who had knocked over the table and released the gas. Being exposed to the gas caused him to mutate, but it was much different than what was expected.
“Doctor Jin, I have the data you asked for,” a voice said through the cracked door of the room.
“Doctor Abraham, please come in.”
Abraham reluctantly entered the room. Although he was on Jin’s research team, he took a backseat when it came to the up close and personal interactions with the live test subjects. He much preferred dealing with subjects who were deceased or knocked out under anesthesia. Even after entering the room, he stood close to the doorway.
“Isn’t it remarkable, my friend?” Jin asked as he took the clipboard from his colleague’s trembling grasp.
“Are you sure that it’s safe to be in here?”
“It’s perfectly fine. Our subject is currently restrained.” Jin held up the clipboard and began flipping through the handwritten notes. “Now, let’s see what we have here.”
Abraham kept his eyes on the mutated man. He was scared to death. As a surgeon in his previous life, Dr. Abraham did not have many encounters with anything out of the ordinary. He was used to normal human anatomy. So, dealing with this subject was truly a concern for him. In his position on Jin’s research team, Abraham’s primary role is to guide Jin through any surgical operation that needed to be conducted on the test subjects. Outside of his role on the research team, Abraham assisted with any and all medical needs of The Association members. When someone came back to the camp injured, Abraham was first in line to treat them. It was sort of his way to stay connected with the outside world without having to leave the camp.
“Why does this one look different than the others?” Abraham asked, noticing the subject’s characteristics.
“He looks different because he is different. He is the product of our decisions, both good and bad.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, my friend, it means that I think we found a breakthrough.”
“What breakthrough?”
“I’ve been thinking ever since I came back into this room. The only difference between this one and everyone else that mutated is that he came in contact with the blood of the beast before being exposed.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means we may have found the secret ingredient that will allow us to control the formula in the gas.”
“If we can control the formula, then we will eventually find a cure, right?”
“I don’t think that’s important right now. First, I want to experiment more with this new formula.”
Abraham nodded solemnly, hiding the look of concern on his face. When he volunteered to join the research team, a part of him did not mind because Micah wanted them to find a cure for the mutations. Despite Micah’s violent persuasion, deep down inside, Abraham knew that once they found the cure, they could work toward getting the world back to normal. He considered Jin to have an intelligent mind but could not understand why the cure was not the focal point of the research.
Jin, on the other hand, was in a world of amazement. He was looking at the big picture. He saw the possibility of altering the chemical gas to create different levels of mutations. This would serve as some sort of balance of control when it came to weaponizing the gas. “Bring in the second subject,” Jin ordered.
One of the gunmen walked outside and returned briefly. He was dragging a middle-aged man by his leg. The man appeared to be kicking and attempting to scream, but the layers of duct tape that covered his mouth muffled all noise that he attempted to make. The gunman delivered a swift kick to the stomach of the bounded man, gaining his compliance.
“I suggest you don’t fight with us. You’re going to need that energy in a minute,” Jin whispered in the man’s ear. “Your sacrifice will help save the human race.”
Looking into the man’s tear-filled eyes had no effect on Jin or the decision he had made. He had seen that look so many times. This was the same look he got from the original test subjects that the government volunteered for the first trials and from the troops who were captured and caged at the hands of Micah. Jin had no problem sacrificing a few lives if it meant that he would get a chance to save millions more.
“Untie him,” Jin ordered.
The gunmen cut the rope from the man’s wrists and ankles. The man instantly tried to bolt for the door but was met with a pistol in his face. On the other side of that pistol was someone who would not hesitate to pull the trigger. Brody was willing and ready to blow the man’s brains out all over the floor. A strong front thrust kick sent the man flying backward into the reach of the mutated subject, who wasted no time jumping on the vulnerable prey.
Abraham felt his heart jump in his chest but did his best not to react to the brutality he was witnessing. The mutated subject sunk his claws and fangs into the man, tearing into his flesh. It was a complete massacre. The man did not even try to fight back. He just screamed helplessly as he tried to push way from the mutant. The mutated subject began devouring the man’s organs. Abraham could not stomach it any longer and vomited all over the floor before running out of the room. He could not believe what he just saw. It was murder. He recognized the murdered man as being one of the newest members of The Association. I can’t believe they are doing this to our own people, he thought as he ran back toward his quarters. Dr. Lee was right. She was right about it all. I have to warn everyone.
CHAPTER 16
“What do you want from us?” Carol yelled. A wool sack covered her head. Tears poured down her face, and snot ran down her nose. The image of Orlando being mauled to death by the pit bulls was stuck in her head.
“Please let us go,” Duncan added while squirming to get out of the tight rope that was tied around his wrists. There was a slight tear in the sack that covered his head. He did his best to peek through the tear, but all he saw was darkness. He was kneeling and could feel the debris beneath him stabbing through his flesh.
Blood caused Abigail’s sack to stick to her face. Her wound was severe, and blood continued running down her face. She did not even bother putting up a fight because she feared being struck again. A tall figure hovered over the three terrified friends. He remained silent, ignoring their questions and pleas. Their three capturers stood behind them. The chains that were once used as leashes for the pit bulls were now wrapped around their necks. The men on the other end of the chains were chomping at the bit to get a piece of the women. They waited impatiently for the approval to attack.
The tall figure gave a hand signal, and the capturers pulled the sacks from the heads of the captured. Once the sack was off his head, Duncan tried his best to scan the area for the man who was pacing back and forth, but there was nothing but darkness in front of him. He looked back over his shoulder. A strong punch from one of the capturers knocked Duncan to the floor. The pain from the punch throbbed in his jaw.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch him!” Carol yelled.
Her capturer delivered a front thrust kick to the back of her head, knocking her to the ground. Her capturer yanked on the chain, causing it to tighten around her neck. Carol coughed, the tight chain making it difficult to breathe. Duncan tried to jump up but received the same treatment. The only difference was his capturer was the hefty man who was handling the dogs, so his tight grip began choking Duncan with the chain. Although she remained silent, Abigail suffered the same fate as the others as her capturer pulled on the chain that was around her
neck. Abigail fell back as he continued pulling on the chain.
The tall figure stepped forward. Dressed in all black, an oversized hooded coat covered his head. He waved his hand, and the capturers released their grips on the chains. Duncan, Carol, and Abigail were all coughing and attempting to catch their breath. “Do yourselves a favor and shut the fuck up unless I ask you a question. The next time either of you step out of line, I will let you meet your fate. Do I make myself clear?”
Carol nodded her head in agreement. The hooded man looked over at Duncan, who remained silent. Then, he glanced over at Abigail, who was still on the ground. The blood from her wound began to pool around her face.
“You three have a very important decision to make. Currently, we are preparing for war. In order to win this war, I need an army, and that’s the only reason you three are still alive. So, the decision that needs to be made is whether or not you will stand with me or against me.”
The three remained quiet. The hooded man pulled his jacket back, revealing a sawed-off shotgun that was slung from his belt. He gripped the shotgun and stuck it in Duncan’s face. Duncan almost pissed himself as he stared down the barrel of the shotgun. “What’s your answer? Do you plan to join my army?”
“Yes,” Duncan mumbled.
“What about you?” the man asked Carol, pointing the shotgun toward her.
“Yeah, I’ll do it.”
The man turned the shotgun from Carol to Abigail. “Last, but certainly not least. What’s your answer? Are you with us?”
Still on the ground, Abigail nodded her head.
The hooded man slung the shotgun back on his waist. “Congratulations to you three. You get to live to see another day. Welcome to the Underlings,” he announced.
Loud cheers erupted from all over. Torches were suddenly lit, illuminating the dark tunnel. Duncan and Carol looked around in amazement. They were being held on a train platform, and they were surrounded by hundreds of people. They did not know how to feel in that moment. A part of Duncan was grateful that his life was being spared, but the guilt of Orlando’s death was a bit overwhelming. If it were not for him and his irrational decision making, the group would still be in the apartment and would have never gone to the train station. He led them all into an ambush.
