By the time they got to the top they nearly crawled. They were so distraught and exhausted when they burst through the door of the observatory, that they didn't notice anyone was there until they heard the distinct cocking of a gun.
The sound made them freeze in their tracks. When they turned toward the noise, their bodies were unsure whether to be aroused or frightened.
"Well, well, well, now who might you boys be?" drawled a stunning long haired blonde in a white and black leather motorcycle suit. She held a matching helmet in one hand and in the other, the biggest stainless steel revolver either of them had ever seen.
They looked at each other and then at her, both wondering if this weren't some bizarre hallucination. Maybe an effect of the radiation exposure? She walked toward them slowly, her boots echoing in the quiet space. They raised their hands.
"That's an awful big gun for a petite woman such as yourself," said Skeeter.
"And completely unnecessary, I assure you," said David.
"One of the things this big gun is capable of is a bilateral orchiectomy. So unless you are open to surgery without anesthesia, I would answer the question," she said thrusting the gun for emphasis.
"A bilateral what?" said Skeeter.
"I think she's saying, answer the question or she's going to blow your balls off," said David.
"Exactly," she said pointing the barrel to the appropriate height.
"Ouch," Skeeter said wincing.
"Relax, miss. I'm David Hadley and this is my place. Well, not exactly mine, but I work here."
"Are you a doctor?" Skeeter asked. His skin began to burn.
"Who is your friend?" she asked ignoring Skeeter.
"That would be Skeeter and he is a recent acquaintance."
"Are you a doctor?" Skeeter repeated.
"Not exactly," she said looking at Skeeter and then pointing the gun at the ground to lower the hammer. The men lowered their hands.
"What do you mean not exactly?" David asked as a wave of nausea washed over him.
"Yeah, what do you mean, not exactly," Skeeter echoed and scratched at the back of his neck.
"Are we playing twenty questions? Because I am not interested."
"No...I...I..." the room began to spin. David broke into a cold sweat. "I have to..." He lowered himself to the ground and onto his hands and knees. After a moment he began to wretch. The sound made Skeeter gag and he took two steps away when dizziness and nausea came on him as well.
"I don't feel so good," he said wobbling to his knees and then fell flat on his face.
"Sugar. Honey. Iced tea. Why is trouble always following me?" she said hanging her head and sighing.
Turnello gets into a little trouble - Late Morning, Tue Sep 3
The whole world suddenly seemed under water. All sounds were distant reverberations that lacked the clarity that would make them distinguishable and capable of comprehension.
Turnello's breathing and heartbeat, on the other hand, seemed preposterously loud and clear. His movements, which at this point consisted mainly of vacillation, seemed like they were performed under the weight and pressure of an entire ocean.
His mind struggled to comprehend the scene before him which had all the elements of a bad horror movie. Within seconds Michele's screams faded into a choked gurgle and then silence. There were shouts and footsteps behind him but they barely registered. The man, or more aptly, thing that devoured her flesh had a ghastly gray color and moved awkwardly as if it didn't have complete control of its body.
Turnello's hand found its way to the pistol at his side and he drew it with a practiced motion. Holding it with both hands he took aim but his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He lowered the gun and took a deep breath. Moving two steps to the left to get a clearer view, he raised the gun again and fired two shots. One striking the thing's shoulder and the other to the right side of its chest. It instantly crumbled to the ground. It took both hands to reholster the pistol. His legs felt weak and his stomach contents threatened to exit violently.
The men from the gas station, including Turnello's friend, ran over to the cars to help but they were too late. They had been too far away to see what had transpired but Turnello knew his shots had come too late to save Michele and that made his heart ache. At the same time, he didn't really understand what had just happened. How hungry could someone be in order to eat another person? It wasn't unheard of but it only really happened in incredibly desperate situations. The Donner Party. That plane that went down in the Andes. This disaster only just happened. There was still plenty of food to be had.
Two of the men knelt by the woman who was obviously already gone. One of them went over to the flesh eating ghoul to make sure it was dead, kicking it a couple of times for good measure. They all stood and looked at one another with stunned expressions. Turnello's friend, the one he called sahib, came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you okay, my friend?"
Turnello opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, the bulging-eyed scream of the man standing by the ghoul cut him short. All heads snapped in that direction to see the thing on the ground latched onto the screaming man's leg trying to take a bite out of his calf. The man struggled to get away but the thing clung to him with the tenacity and pain tolerance of a pit bull. Turnello and his friend ran over to help. They started kicking it because touching it with their hands seemed repulsive beyond what they could bear. They could clearly hear the sounds of ribs cracking but the blows seemed to have little effect.
There was the sound of cloth tearing and blood began pouring out of the man's lower leg. Turnello put his arm out across his friend's chest and pushed him back. Drawing his gun he shot the thing several times. That loosened its grip momentarily as it turned and growled at Turnello. In the process, the man who had been pulling against the incredible grip with all the strength of someone fighting for their life inadvertently launched himself away from the melee. Turnello backed away a few steps. The other man, the one standing by the dead woman, also tried to help but he only got as far as one step and then fell flat on his face. A scuffle followed. Then a shot.
Looking up he saw something that made absolutely no sense. Michele, who had been dead moments before, was on her knees. Her half eaten neck and shoulder caused her head to tip to one side which gave her the appearance of questioning the scene before her. Her broken lower legs were splayed at unnatural angles. The man she had tripped up lay before her. He had managed to roll over onto his back and draw his weapon.
He was in such a state of panic that even though she was only three feet away his shots were flying wildly past her. Turnello raised his pistol, took careful aim and fired. The shot went through the bridge of her nose and blew out the back of her head. She fell backward in a heap. The thing in front of Turnello tried to get back up on its feet. Taking careful aim once again Turnello fired a single shot that blew a huge hunk of its head off and it immediately crumbled to the ground. There was a sudden eerie silence punctuated by the shell casing hitting the asphalt. The men were all out of breath. Turnello turned, put his hand on a car and retched. He had just shot his landlady's daughter in the head.
He wiped the spittle and bile from his lips with his sleeve and turned his gaze back to the scene before him. His eyes moved from his friend, who stood, breathing heavily and staring blankly off into the distance, to the man on his back looking up at the sky muttering something, the mutilated woman at his feet, the other guy clutching his calf and moaning, and finally to the thing a few feet away. His eyes made the rounds a few more times.
Could it be possible that in less than twenty-four hours he went from eating Chinese food and thinking about his life to puking what little he had in his stomach and fighting for his life? How could a woman with half her neck and shoulder gone and broken legs attack someone? How does a dead woman attack someone?
"Sahib?" Turnello whispered, not really wanting to break the silence. No answer. "Sahib," he called
again more loudly.
"Rajeev. My name is Rajeev Ramachander," he said, with his eyes never moving from the dead woman.
"Okay, Rajeev. We should probably get your friends here and get inside. We don't know if there are anymore of these things around here."
"This is my cousin Prabhu," he said pointing to the man on the ground in front of him, "and that is my other cousin Mahendra," he continued, moving his gaze and pointing to the man with the bloody calf.
"Uh, okay..."
Prabhu began picking himself up off the ground and examining a small wound on his ankle. Mahendra rocked from side to side holding his leg.
"They are new to this country and do not speak English very much."
"That's just perfect," Turnello thought. "That will be really helpful if we get into an intense situation again." Best not to worry about that right now. He needed to stay focused. Whatever had happened was obviously much worse than any premonition of his let on. They needed to get out of sight now, but this trio was not sensing the urgency.
"Raj, listen to me. Ask your cousins to move their asses back to the gas station. We need to get out of sight." Rajeev did not move but instead stared at the thing that had bitten his cousin's leg. Turnello lost patience. He went over to Raj and put a hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Raj, come on." He took Raj by the arm and began walking him toward the gas station. Prabhu helped Mahendra up and with his assistance Mahendra began hobbling toward the gas station as well.
They were about fifty feet from the gas station doors with Turnello and Rajeev in the lead when Mahendra began to shiver violently with his teeth chattering. After another few feet Mahendra collapsed and began convulsing.
Prabhu began yelling something in Hindi and crouched down by his cousin trying to help. Turnello and Rajeev turned. Mahendra's convulsing stopped and then he sat up and attacked Prabhu violently. They were locked in a struggle, with Mahendra reaching for his cousin with his teeth snapping like a ravenous animal and Prabhu with his palms against Mahendra's chest keeping him at bay.
Turnello thought about what he witnessed now and what they had all seen a short time ago. Then he thought about every zombie movie he had ever watched and it gave him a peculiar feeling. He drew his pistol and aimed carefully for Mahendra's head. He began to squeeze the trigger when Rajeev knocked his gun aside and sent his shot wide.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rajeev screamed at him.
"What the hell am I doing? I'm trying to--"
Prabhu howled as his arms gave way and Mahendra bit his face crunching his nose off. Rajeev began flailing at Turnello sending him stumbling back while screaming, "You crazy. You crazy mother--"
"Stop! Stop! You'll get us all killed," Turnello yelled while putting his arm up to deflect the blows, but Raj continued. Something caused Mahendra to lose interest in Prabhu. Maybe it was all the yelling that Rajeev did or maybe it was the fact that Prabhu stopped screaming and was now convulsing himself. Either way Mahendra began running full tilt toward the two of them.
The sudden quiet and fast footsteps made Rajeev stop his assault on Turnello and turn around. When he saw his cousin's crazed look and blood covered mouth he instinctively ran and Turnello followed quickly behind him. They made it into the gas station and pulled the door closed as Mahendra ran full speed into the thin barrier.
Had he hit just the glass instead of the metal edges of both the doors he might well have smashed completely through. The impact caused him to fall backward, but he was up in seconds throwing himself against the doors like a crazed animal.
Rajeev locked the doors. Considering his relentless attack there was no telling how long the doors would hold. To make matters worse, Prabhu was on his feet and missing not only his nose but his upper lip as well. As soon as he caught sight of Mahendra he joined him in the body slamming contest against the doors.
"Is there another way out of here?" Turnello asked, frantic and out of breath.
"This way." Rajeev motioned, weaving his way around a couple of displays and then down an aisle and finally through a doorway.
Jim meets Bad Ass and Tiny - Late Morning, Tue Sep 3
The tugging at his pant leg, more than the growling, woke Jim from his unplanned nap. He felt confused and disoriented. First the front seat of the car came into focus. Then the rain spattered windows. Then the bloody and tattered grayish brown arm that reached in through the small broken window pawing at him.
It took a second for it to sink in, but when it did he let out the first real scream of his life. He curled into a ball and pushed himself against the opposite door trying to get away from whomever tried to grab him. He noticed that he left the door unlocked. He must have forgotten to lock it in his panic earlier. Why wouldn't they just open the door?
He heard growling again and...a bark? A barking dog? The jarring clunk of animal nails on metal seemed to confirm that. The rain came down heavily and made it difficult to see clearly through the front windshield. It looked like a large German shepherd had jumped on the hood and barked at whoever had his arm through the window. Then came a higher pitched barking and growling now too.
Jim unlocked the door on his side of the car and slid out onto the roadway into the pouring rain. The pavement felt cold and wet and grated against his skin. A little light brown something scampered over him and onto the back seat of the car and shook itself off. A small, ugly chihuahua sat on the edge of the seat looking at him. He stared back in perplexed amazement.
"Where did you come from?" he asked it to which it tilted its head slightly as if it were trying to understand. He stood up and looked over the car and confirmed that, indeed, a German shepherd on the hood barked at...at...
"What the hell is that?"
Jim cried out involuntarily as his gaze fell upon the hideous thing that had been reaching for him in the car. It appeared to have once been human but now it was a strange gray brown color that reminded him of the way dead things preserved in formaldehyde looked. The flesh on one side of its face peeled away revealing the bones of its cheek, jaw, and teeth. It seemed to be ignoring the dog but the moment it heard him it pulled its arm out of the broken window and began coming around the car. It moved in a weird stilted way that made Jim think, if he didn't know better, it was a zombie.
He stared in fascination and horror as it came closer. He remained frozen in place. Almost hypnotized. It made odd little breathy groans and snapped its teeth at him. When it came within arm's length Jim heard running and a growl as something brushed past him. With incredible speed the German shepherd launched itself at the thing. Midair the dog twisted and wrapped its large jaws around the zombie's neck knocking it to the ground. There was a sickening crunch of bone and it stopped moving.
"Holy fuck!" Jim exclaimed looking at the chihuahua. It barked at him in agreement. The German shepherd came to him wagging its tail and looking for a pat on the head. Jim obliged. "Damn, boy, that was totally badass." It shook itself off, spraying Jim in the process, and then jumped onto the back seat causing the chihuahua to have to move off and onto the floor.
Jim couldn't get any wetter at this point and became concerned about getting hypothermia. He unlocked the front door and got into the driver's seat reclining it part way. He reached in the back and tugged at his blanket. The large canine, which took up the entire back seat, shifted so he could get his blanket. Jim covered himself with the blanket and his body shivered with a chill. The chihuahua barked at him and stood up putting its paws on the center console. Jim scooped the little dog up with one hand and place it in his lap. The dog turned in circles a few times and then curled up contentedly falling asleep almost immediately.
It had been less than a day since this disaster started and by far was the worst day in Jim's life. He had barely escaped a collapsing building. He had walked for miles. He remained stranded a long way from home with no food, little water and not much else. His body ached. His knuckles were swollen. He felt cold, wet and hungry.
To top things off
he could swear he had just been attacked by a zombie. Yet, lying here in an abandoned car watching a cold dirty rain fall, with a chihuahua sleeping on his lap and a German shepherd in the back seat, he found the smell of wet dog oddly comforting and inside him a tiny spark of hope ignited.
When he woke a couple of hours later the rain still came down hard. He put the seat up and reached for his water bottle and took a swig. The chihuahua on his lap sat up and followed his every move. When he went to put the cap back on the bottle it began to whine.
"What?" Jim asked stopping mid twist. The dog seemed to be looking at the bottle. "Oh no, you don't. This is my only bottle left." The dog put his head down dejectedly and looked away. "Oh, come on now, don't be trying to guilt trip me." The dog looked at him out of the corner of its eyes but did not lift its head. Jim sighed. "I don't believe this. Okay all you get is a sip though." The dog sat up and barked and began wagging his tail.
Jim poured a little water into the dog's mouth and then looked over his shoulder at the German shepherd, "How about you? Do you want a sip, too?" he asked holding up the bottle. It looked up at the bottle and put its head back down. "I will take that as a no." He put the seat back again and closed his eyes but he began to feel too restless to nap.
"So, since we are all going to be hanging out together for a while I think we should introduce ourselves, don't you?" At that the chihuahua sat up and the German shepherd raised his head. "My name is Jim and I'm from New York," he said extending his hand to the chihuahua and to his surprise the chihuahua presented his paw. Jim chuckled. "And your name would be?" The dog yipped. "Tiny? Tiny did you say? All right then, Tiny, so who is your friend here?" he said extending his hand to the German shepherd who simply gave a whiny yawn and put his head down. "I see. Well, then until I find out your name I'm going to call you Badass." Badass seemed to look at him askance. "We can call you B.A. for short.
A Bad Day Part 1 Page 7
