Thousands of meticulously folded, origami birds hung from the ceiling. In all various sizes and shades of reds, oranges and yellows. All except for a hundred or so, they were multiple shades of blue. The blue birds were hung dispensed in-between all of the other birds, creating a sharp contrast between the reds and oranges. Some of them were as big as my fist, a few were a bit bigger, but with most of them I could fit two or three on my open hand at a time. They hung there, seemingly suspended in time. Something beautiful in a sea of death.
“Why did you want me to see this? Is it just something beautiful for me to see before I die?” I asked, keeping my voice devoid of the boiling mass inside me.
Vince stopped just short of touching the hanging birds. Just the movements he made near them sent them into spiraling action. He took a deep breath, after coughing lightly. Without bothering to look at me he started talking in a low voice, “Every bird in here is for someone who died. I made one for every person I knew and then when I finished, I kept going. It was actually pretty therapeutic. Something for me to keep my mind on track.” He crouched down in front of me, attempting to maintain a neutral face. “I’m immune. You know, those suckers out there, they could rip my throat out. They could chew on me like a piece of lively jerky that I am. But that’s it. I won’t come crawling back with a serious case of the munchies or something, I’ll stay dead. For which I’m thankful. If anything was going to comfort me these days, it’s that. That if those suckers do get me, I don’t get to worry about becoming one of them.
“I was the first… success, if you want to say. If it was based purely off of the immunity factor, then yeah. 0ne hundred percent success. Peachy, completely and utterly peachy. But when you’re trying to achieve PERFECTION then well you have to talk about the side effects.” He bared his teeth in more of a snarl than a smile, “Side effects are inevitable but they have to be controllable. When those factors are included, I’m now a failure. Momentary success. Written off, cast aside, thrown away. What else am I supposed to do?” He shoved his own red face into mine. “What else am I supposed to do? Written off as a failure. Just a dead end. Just like the one hundred and three people before me.”
In front of me, his face seemed to crumble in on itself. Tears welled up in his eyes. A sob escaped his mouth before he snapped his jaw together. The muscles twitching on the side of his face. Vince seemed to pull himself back together, he angrily brushed away the tears from his eyes. “He stuck me full of needles. He pulled tube of tube of blood from me, till I thought I was going to pass out. Sensors everywhere on my body. They didn’t even talk to me, they talked around me and over me to each other.” His voice cracked, “They treated me like I was just another rat. They never told me what would happen, they would just do it. And at the end of it all, when I realized I wasn’t a success anymore, it was a relief to at least know what was coming next.
“My commander. He was given the termination orders. I don’t know how long we stood there out in that field. I waited for him to do it. But he didn’t. He decided to hell with orders. I was immune, and I was thrown away. We all decided to hell with them all. By the time we got by your father had already disappeared with one of the tag-alongs from my unit. Some officer who got the right paperwork to come along with us when we set out.”
I tried to swallow but I had a mouthful of cottonmouth. “I don’t know what to say, I mean, it’s not that I don’t have anything to say. I just… I’m sorry. I know my apology means absolutely nothing to you, and its only a few years too late for it. But everything they did to you, I’m sorry for that. No one, no one deserves that.”
“Every apology should come from the heart, my mom used to say, because then if it comes from the heart every time, then every time its genuine. I believe that you’re sorry. But you’re sorry for the wrong things.” Vince retorted.
“I’m not apologizing for stabbing you, if that’s what you’re getting at.” I snapped.
He grinned, “Finally you acknowledge the elephant in the room.” Vince stood, joints popping. He slowly walked away from me, going around the centerpiece. His eyes never wavering as he walked, watching me through the openings of birds.
I wanted to know though. He was right, it was something I needed to know. Silently I cursed at my curiosity, it will be the death of me. “What are the side effects?” I croaked, grimacing even as I said it.
Vince didn’t answer until he was in front of me again. He bent over placing his hands on the armrests before leaning in close. His sour breath filled my nose. The smell of his B.O. was making me want to throw up. It was all I could do to hold my gag reflex in check.
Softly Vince said, “Headaches. Not just your average headache, ones that go beyond migraines. They feel like someone is bashing your skull in, like they’re cracking it open inch by inch at a time. It starts deep inside and slowly it crawls out, the pain is enough that you welcome when the darkness takes over and you can’t feel it anymore.
“And you’re angry. You get so angry, it’s like someone just murdered everyone you’ve ever loved, right there in front of you. It’s not anger, it’s not enough. It’s rage. You just want to destroy everything, watch the world burn to ash and scatter across the universe. It’s like a switch, so easy to turn on but don’t think about trying to turn it off. Because that doesn’t work. You can’t turn that off. It’s always there in the back of your mind, it’s like breathing, like sleeping; a natural part of you. I suppose that it helps with the whole ultimate predator image, right? It focuses you, it helps you to take down the next enemy and the next and the one after that. But it’s those headaches… Morphine will take the edge off but I still think about just bashing my head in. Just to make the pain stop. Eating a bullet…” He sat back on his heels looking at me, “You get them too. Don’t you?”
As much as I didn’t want to admit anything to him, I didn’t exactly put myself in the right position to fabricate something. I, I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe anything that was going to come out of his mouth. He was demanding an answer. I settled for a nod, for his confirmation.
“I knew it,” He breathed out. “I knew he was a monster. If the way he treated his subjects here was his professional side, I wonder how he treated you?”
“He was not a monster.” I spit out from my clenched jaw.
“Yes, he is! He will always be a monster!” Vince screamed. His red face inches from my own, spit flying from his mouth. His hand wrapped around my upper arms dragging me to my feet. His fingers dug into my skin, bruising it almost instantly. My left leg dragged behind me, while I focused on using my other leg to stay upright. He dragged me to the nearest wall and shoved me against it, face first.
“You’re hurting me.” I gasped out.
He whipped me around pressing my back against the wall. He pressed his body against mine. He smelled like sweat, dirt and blood. I turned away, just for air that didn’t smell like him. A hand grabbed my chin, holding it in place while Vince pressed his lips against my ear, speaking softly, his hot breath tickling down my neck. “At first it was strictly volunteer. People had to be willing and know the risks, they were told exactly what they were lining up for. All those people, they would line up outside, willing to do anything if it meant a hot meal and a relatively secure base. Your father. Your daddy, he would go out there and pick a couple of random people at a time. I even watched him separate a family once. When people didn’t come back out, some of those waiting left, but most stayed. It was relatively safe with the miniscule chance of hope, I mean when you’re desperate with nowhere to go, what would you have done? Would you have stayed or left? I saw what was happening and I stayed. I saw what was happening outside and in there, and I chose to stay. Then the infected started coming. More and more every day. His line of volunteers dried up. None of us volunteered. We knew what he was doing. Then the orders came trickling down. We had food, we had warm beds, and in the end, we didn’t do anything to stop him; even when he started using us. We h
ad orders. And orders, you follow them. There’s no if’s, there’s no buts. Orders are orders.
“We saw the bodies when they were finished. We saw what he did to them in the name of science while they were still alive. Not a single one of us wanted to go down that route. None of us. So, when I was labeled a failure, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
His breathing for once was soft, it wasn’t the harsh breathing from earlier, against my neck. I licked my chapped lips before speaking, “How did you guess?”
Vince pulled his face back far enough to look at me. “I guessed, some of the signs were there. Some of those wounds from the fence should still be bothering you. Again, I guessed but you proved it. I knew what he was, so it didn’t seem so farfetched. You would have thought you’d have been safe from him and his obsession but not even his own flesh and blood.” His voice took on a softer tone, “I wish I had known sooner. We could’ve helped each other from the beginning instead of pitting ourselves against each other.”
I stayed silent but my internally my mind was imploding. How am I supposed to argue in favor of a man, when the evidence points all in one direction with an apparent witness, who saw all of his abominations, how am I supposed to defend him when he’s dead? There’s no way for me to know the whole story. I can’t even defend him because how can I defend him when he’s not here to defend himself. If he did do this to me, what about mom and Emmie? Did he do the same to them or something different or did he not even touch them? Did mom know? Was it possible that she knew about any of this?
I swallowed thickly, “Ok, Vince. You showed me. You told me everything. But I need to go.” I tried to push him away. He watched me and my fruitless efforts with humor written darkly over his face.
“Why do you need to leave?”
I reached up as high as I could reach to scream in his ear. He shoved me away letting go of me in the process. Even with the wall at my back, my legs weren’t ready to catch my sudden weight. They crumpled under me. I landed heavily on my tailbone, at his feet. Vince crouched down to my level, scowling. “You’ve seen but you still don’t understand yet. Who wants to know that their father was a cold unfeeling murderer? The point that I am making here is that we are both immune. Together maybe, just maybe we can do something about it. Use it to our advantage. It could even potentially pass on genetically.”
“How about I make this clear to you Vince.” I growled, “We are both bigger monsters than he ever was. My dad, he at least had a purpose in life other than just day to day survival. He had a bigger picture in mind. What are you doing? Killing people. Hunting them down for sport. Tell me, how does that make you better than him? Then you have the gall to say that you want to find out if this can be genetically passed on with the two of us. I say you can kiss my- “
His fist connected with my cheek snapping my head to the side, knocking me over onto the ground. Pain radiated outwards from both my cheek and the point of impact with the floor. I clutched at my face, gasping and crying in pain. His heavy footsteps passed me by and out the door. It slammed shut behind him, leaving me in growing silence while his footsteps faded away.
Tentatively` I lifted my head off of the floor. He left the light in here, which before it was soft and warm now it was like the sun was shining directly into my skull, while boiling my eyes in their sockets. Numb, as if I was watching someone else do it, I climbed to my feet. I pulled one knee from out from under me, pressing my foot firmly on the ground. My bad leg was screaming as I used it to push myself up. I had no choice but to use it, my other leg was already in position and it wasn’t moving from it. Swaying like a tree in the wind I pressed both hands against the cold wall to steady myself. My vision doubled then tripled. Curtains of darkness were fluttering at the edge of my vision. Threatening to take over. Every part of my body was screaming at me. It was all too much. Slowly I counted to thirty, blocking everything else out. I focused on the numbers. Counting one after another. At thirty I looked up from the patch of wall I’d been staring at. I’m too weak for this.
“I don’t think I’m gonna make it out of this one.” I whispered to myself. I let the tears flow. I can cry but I won’t lie down and die. One step at a time. Ok, just one sliding step at a time. Volatile emotions ranged up and down my mind, shifting rapidly from the darkness of self-pity to the rage Vince had been speaking of. They weren’t going to be pushed to the side or the back of my mind. I just needed to pick on and focus on it. Instead of the constant shifting of emotions.
It seemed like hours later when my hand finally brushed the door. Logically I know it wasn’t really hours but only minutes, but crossing a room has never been so hard before in my life. My body wasn’t wanting to respond to my orders I was giving. I pulled on the door half expecting it to not open. Instead it opened smoothly and noiselessly. I limped into the hallway pulling the door shut behind me, cutting off the excess light. I looked left and right but it was clear. My sock clad feet didn’t make any noise while I shifted on the tiles. I turned to my right and started limping towards the windows. I might be able to figure out where I am and maybe a game plan too.
I looked behind me nervously, I felt ridiculously exposed out here. I missed the small confines of the room, I almost stopped and turned around at the gut-wrenching pain that exploded through my thigh. I gasped. Trying to keep silent. I shuffled forward, using the wall to keep me upright. With every movement forward, the world would shift alarmingly around me. With the wall I was able to fight it. My heart was thumping rapidly in my chest. Butterflies were flitting around in my stomach. I just couldn’t contain myself, every second that passed my terror of Vince coming back and finding me in the hall was growing. It was growing stronger and stronger. If he came back and found me trying to escape, I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think about what he would do. As the implications of my actions hit me, I almost felt calmer. Almost. But action will do that.
My hand swept ahead and fell against air. I jerked my head up, looking around in terror. I need to pay attention. I can’t let myself drift off like that. I was standing in a “T” intersection, my position was only a foot or so away from the windows. I limped forward pressing my face against the glass just trying to get a glimmer of what was happening. But it was too dark. Not even a moon. It looked like heavy cloud cover, but I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t see anything not even another building or even any foliage. The windows ran the length of the wall, from one end to the other. I looked both ways, which both were identical. Screw it, I’ll go left this time. I struggled to turn, my leg was now refusing to work. I dragged it behind me, crying from the pain. I hobbled forward while somewhere from my left came the sound of crashing footsteps. Instinctively I dived forward. Scrabbling to pull myself out of sight.
I shoved my back against the wall while I faded in and out of consciousness. Completely helpless. I was floating somewhere in a grey fog, somewhere half between awake and dead to the world. It would be so easy to give in, but when have I chosen the easy route? I fought to stay awake. I fought against everything that threatened to shut me down. After a while I became aware of a wet, squishy sound. I blinked blearily, the sound pulling me back to reality. I tried to prepare myself for more pain as I twisted my upper body to poke my face around the corner. Vince was straddling an infected nearly directly under the single light. The infected looked freshly turned, its skin was still mostly whole and it still looked almost like healthy skin if not for the dozens of bite marks that adorned the arm that was visible. Vince had something that was mostly grey and dripping with gore grasped in both hands that he was bringing down over and over again on the infected’s head. Bright red blood was forming a circle, a halo almost, around its head. And somehow it was still whipping its arms trying to grab ahold of Vince.
I pulled myself away from the grisly sight. I can’t face him again. I can’t. I’m not strong enough. Why am I in such bad shape? What the hell happened to me? Using my arms and one leg, I crawled down the
hall. My left leg dragged uselessly behind me while I gasped for air. No matter how much I pulled in it just wasn’t enough, my lungs were still crying out for me. My lungs felt like they were filling up with liquid, even while I crawled. I felt the cough coming, I clapped a hand over my mouth as it exploded out of me.
A matter of moments later Vince bellowed my name, his voice echoing around the halls. Magnifying and multiplying until it sounded like there were a dozen of him. I kept pushing myself forward. One step at a time. One at a time. Just ahead of me was another room with a door even. I stretched up, using my good leg to support me to open the door. My fingertips barely grasped the handle before I was twisting it and pushing it open. I crawled inside shutting the door as silently as possible. Darkness again enveloped me threatening to break me down completely. With my eyes bulging out of my head I tried to look around the room but the door sealed off all light. Ok, I can handle this. I’m tough, I can do this. I whispered encouragement in my head, not daring to make any extra noise. I crawled forward, dodging around furniture as I found them by swinging one arm out in front of me every few steps. Anticipating jamming them, my fingers recoiled in the dark while I gently swung my arm out. My fingers ran over cold metal. I felt along it, it felt like a desk. I crawled under it, into the leg space, to hide. I shuddered in both pain and cold, while I cried silently. In the dark and quiet my ragged breathing seemed loud and oppressive. I clamped both hands over my mouth, trying to filter out the noise.
Back out in the hall Vince was still calling my name. With every shout he was getting louder and angrier. Like a child I squeezed my eyes shut, cowering in the dark. Please don’t find me. Please don’t find me, I prayed. I squeezed myself tighter, trying to hold myself together. Anything to keep me from flying to pieces.
The door opened allowing dim light to spill into the room. “Alice?” His heavy footsteps came closer. “I’m not mad. I would have done the same thing.” His voice grew. He was walking easy, like he knew exactly where I was. I looked up as Vince came around the corner, he smiled which seemed to lift years from his face, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to keep you alive.” His rough hands reached out towards me. A gun shot exploded right outside the room. Vince stumbled back as red spilled over his shirt. A second shot and a hole appeared in his forehead. He slammed back into the wall and slid down it. A look of disbelief etched across his face. He fell over at the last moment with his face still looking at me.
Dead Paper Birds Page 33
