MONSTERS HEROES COWBOYS & ZOMBIES
A short story collection by
Brian Manning
Copyright © 2013
Thank you for purchasing this ebook. If you enjoy these stories, please check out the author's page: http://www.amazon.com/author/brianmanning to discover other works. Thank you for your support.
STORIES
MONSTER JACKPOT
TWO PERCENT POWER
POWERS THAT BE
LIFE WORTH LIVING
ALL CLEAR
SURGE
MONSTER JACKPOT
“This is not my lucky day.”
Mark Cavanaugh stood on the corner of Fremont Street and 4th, just west of the Las Vegas Strip, and faced the human tidal wave rushing towards him. A goofy grin was pasted to his face, from left over signals of joy his brain forgot to wipe clean given this new information. It wasn't the crowd that held Mark's attention, it was the giant scorpion chasing them. Impossibly large — almost half the width of the entire street — even with its pincers pulled close to its head.
The scene was like something out of the Saturday morning creature features he grew up watching, only this thing wasn't moving like a Ray Harryhausen stop-motion kraken. His mind did its best to process the visual information he took in. The creature resembled a bark scorpion, like the ones he had been dealing with in his rental home last Summer. The body and legs had a yellowish, almost translucent appearance. Its back was washed with a reddish-brown streak ending where the tail started. Unlike an emperor scorpion, with its menacing claws and tail, the pincers and stinger on a bark scorpion were much smaller than what most people picture. However, measuring almost twenty feet wide, everything on this fellow was plenty big today.
The beastly arachnid lumbered towards Mark, hugging the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. As it moved, it dug into the face of the parking garage to the right, and crushed the parked cars and news paper kiosks to the left. The tail floated high, looming over the crowd with a mind of its own, like it was looking for the perfect morsel to reach out and touch.
Mark realized he hadn't wiped the goofy expression off of his face yet. He shook his head, almost cartoon like to reset his features, and backpedaled from the scene. The screams of the panicked crowd, sharp cracks of glass and stone, and the occasional creak of steel, echoed through the streets. Cars slamming on their brakes wreaked even more havoc, causing the hysteria to spread. He had to get moving if he wanted to avoid being a victim, sucked underneath the tsunami of terror, as it washed its way down the street.
* * *
2 Hours Earlier
“Finally, my luck has turned around” Mark said dryly.
The unenthusiastic delivery earned a smirk and a chuckle from the old woman next to him. The cheap, electronic celebratory music looped as a fountain of digital coins erupted from the bottom of his screen, indicating that after a long night, Mark had finally hit the 'Big Win'. This pay out on the 5-reel video slot machine put his bank roll at forty-two dollars and some odd change.
He hit the Cash Out button, triggering the simulated clanging of quarters hitting the coin tray, like the slot machines of yesterday. Once the machine spit out his forty-two dollar ticket, he plucked it from the printer, got out of the stool with a grunt, and nodded to the woman, signaling his exit.
“Gonna test my standing with Lady Luck in the high limit room.” he said with a wink.
“Break the bank, kid.” She said with a slight smile, and nod of approval.
As he strolled through the slot floor of the Four Queens casino, the smell of cigarette smoke had lightened significantly since his arrival. The crowd was much lighter as well. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he tapped the unlock button to check the time.
“I've been here seven hours already?”
He shook his head in a feigned disapproval. Its not like he had to answer to anyone since he was self-employed. At twenty eight years old, being a freelance code monkey was tough, but recently the market had shifted in his favor. With the looming possibility of legislation making online slot gaming legal, a new generation of digital '49ers looking for the next gold rush came flooding in. Suddenly everyone wanted to stake their claim, and Mark had both the programming skills and casino gaming experience to deliver.
He grew tired of slots and wanted to shift focus on video poker anyway. Mark had been writing up some notes on a poker game he could develop for his customers, giving them an edge over other online casinos offering only video slots. The video poker area had a slightly higher occupancy, with two other players on the machines. Their rhythmic play styles almost complimented each other, as they were going through the various game states. Deal, hold, draw. Deal, hold, draw. Sometimes one would take a second longer, deciding which cards to hold, almost like adding some avant-garde flair to the show.
Mark chose a machine, and fed his pay out ticket from earlier into the ticket acceptor. Deuces Wild was his favorite game, because he felt like having all 2s evaluate as wild gave him an edge, although he knew the pay tables pulled the odds back into the house's favor. Soon he joined in the oddly soothing, seemingly choreographed tapping. Deal, hold, draw. Deal, hold, draw.
“Cocktails?” A cheerful voice said.
Breaking free of the three man percussion performance on the video poker button panels, Mark looked up at the waitress.
“Uh, no thanks.” he said, taking slightly too long as he absently eyed her up and down.
Rubbing his eyes, he once again dove back into the game. Playing on autopilot, he overanalyzed the interaction with the cocktail waitress. Did she think he was checking her out? He honestly didn't even take in any remarkable features, since he was caught off guard by the cheerful disposition this early in the morning. Deal, hold, draw. Did she think that he was just dismissing her? Deal, hold, draw. Did he just come off as creepy, or remarkably rude?
The worrisome thoughts consumed him as he slapped the deal button. Mark was about to start another round of self-loathing and general nit picking, but something onscreen caught his eye. The machine had just dealt three deuces. If he could get that last deuce, he would win $250. Sadly, that would only put him a few dollars above his starting point for the month, but breaking even is better than losing.
With great care, and more pressure than necessary on the touch screen, he held the three cards. The 2 of Spades, the 2 of Clubs, and the 2 of Hearts. He hit draw and held his breath. Expecting to watch the scene play out in slow motion, Mark was almost let down when the two cards, he didn't hold, flipped almost immediately. The second card that flipped revealed the 2 of Diamonds.
“Yes!” he said, letting the words hiss through clenched teeth, thrusting his fists into the air.
He looked around for anyone to share his victory, but the other two players had left sometime during his mindless run. He was free to do a little dance of joy. Time to cash out and head home.
Mark held the ticket in front of him, absently rubbing it with both thumbs while looking for a ticket redemption kiosk to collect his winnings. That video poker session whittled away at his initial buy-in, but the remaining amount, plus his four deuces win, put him at two hundred sixty two dollars and fifty-five cents.
With his wallet two hundred and sixty two bucks thicker, Mark had a bit more spring in his step. Walking out onto the Fremont Street Experience, he was met with the unwelcoming glare of the harsh sun, just low enough to fire its angry beams underneath the 90 foot high canopy covering the entire street behind him. A reminder of how long he had just spent staring at 90s era graphics while pressing buttons.
Mark's stomach finally regained some sense of control over his mind, and sent out a stern r
eminder that the next meal was long overdue. The previous evening's fish and chips he had for dinner provided all the sustenance it could. He ran through some options for a cheap breakfast place, and then remembered the monster jackpot he had just hit.
Distracted by the thought of a hearty plate of steak and eggs with a few strips of bacon and a couple of fat slices of toast, a man blindsided and plowed right into Mark. Both men staggered a few steps forward, and the assailant kept his footing, glanced back over his shoulder with a look of shock, and continued as fast as his feet could carry him. Immediately, Mark thought the worst and patted at all of his pockets.
“If that dude just grabbed my cash —” he said.
Before he could finish the thought, his hand found the slim wallet still secure in his front left pocket. He was relieved, mostly because he didn't have the energy, nor the speed to give chase. An almost goofy grin spread across his face as he looked up, turning right onto 4th Street, so he could grab his car from the parking garage.
“I have a real good feeling about today.”
* * *
Now
Unable to take his eyes off of the creature, Mark did his best to shoulder against the crowd, as they rushed past. Perhaps it was lack of sleep or the high of his recent video poker win, but Mark slowed down and watched, with his back to the wall. The giant scorpion passed his position, across the street, but there was something very peculiar about the way it moved. It wasn't hunting, since it never lashed out with its stinger or pincers, at any of the people running for their lives. A few unfortunate individuals did, however, get caught underneath the monster during its sporadic charges. It would stop every ten or twenty feet, curl its stinger up, and wait a couple of seconds before moving again. Was it running away from something?
The mere moments it took for the whole scene to unfold, felt like hours to Mark. He then realized that there were a lot of people that may have needed help, after they were caught in the path of destruction. He jogged halfway across the street keeping only part of his focus in the direction of all the commotion. Picking up his pace, he reached a car with the roof collapsed just enough to prevent the doors from opening.
There was an older woman inside, dressed for either a corporate office gig, or a job at the nearby courthouse. She had an unwavering gaze straight ahead, as the rest of her body shook around her eyes. Mark slapped the driver side window with his palm several times, grabbing her attention.
He held up his hands with both palms facing her, and clearly mouthed the words “Stay right there” slightly waving his hands with each word. Moving to the passenger side, he felt a bit silly since she probably could have heard him just fine if he just said it out loud.
He stared at the passenger side window, dumbfounded and not knowing what to do next. He was just about to shrug his shoulders and ask someone nearby for advice. Then without much additional thought or preparation, he slammed his left elbow into the glass, like a pro wrestler hitting a dazed opponent slung across the turnbuckle, with a little too much meaty triceps, and not enough bone. The pain caught Mark off guard, and the glass held firm.
He took a deep breath, rubbed his elbow and took another crack at it. This time he tried to put a bit more of the point of his elbow towards the strike, as well committing more of his 183lbs bulk into it.
The glass gave way, and the woman flinched like a firecracker had just exploded in the seat next to her. Mark stuck his head into the window with his best disarming smile.
“My name is Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you.” He said, triumphantly.
She blinked several times with her hands on her cheeks looking at him.
“Thank you, Luke.” She said, her voice surprisingly calm. “My name is Irene.”
Stunned for a heartbeat, Mark felt embarrassment wash over him, since she didn't get the reference. Not wanting to make the scene more awkward, he grabbed her briefcase from the passenger seat to knock some of the remaining glass out of the door, making the passage a little safer.
“Let's get you out of there.” He said, reaching for her hand.
Mark's physique was like that of a Greek God's IT person, and although she was about the right build for her size, Irene wasn't exactly spry, so it took about a minute for Mark to get her out of her car. Taking a deep breath, puffing his chest out like a superhero as he inhaled, Mark gave Irene a tight lipped smile and nod. Something caught Irene's attention.
“You're bleeding, Luke.” she said
Instinctively, he glanced at his right elbow first, then whipping to the left, he noticed there was an awful lot of blood streaking down his forearm. Probably a normal amount of blood for a normal person, but Mark wasn't used to seeing so much blood coming from his own body. The sight was startling at first. He thought maybe the sight of that much of his own blood would have caused him to pass out, but once again, Lady Luck was on his side, as he felt almost proud of his battle wound.
“Aw, that's nothing. It's just — Ow!”
His sentence was cut short, as Irene put some pressure on it with some tissues she pulled out of her coat pocket while Mark examined his elbow.
“Thanks.” He said, wincing. “You can call me Mark, by the way.”
“Oh, OK, Mark.” she said, gingerly raising the tissues to make sure the bleeding slowed.
“Listen Irene, you should find somewhere safe to lay low until things calm down.”
“What are you going to do?”
“There are more people out here that need help.”
“Well, you're not exactly a first-responder team. I'll help too.”
“Fine, but let's also keep an eye out for that big bug, to make sure it's not coming back.”
All the fear and confusion came flooding back as he mentioned the giant scorpion. She too, was shaken by the recent memories. He put a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you OK?” He asked, hunching down to look her in the eye.
She gave a slight grunt and nodded her approval.
* * *
Fortunately none of the injuries seemed too severe, and there were plenty of other people helping out. Mostly they just needed to snap people out of their stupor, attend to the more serious cuts and bruises, and organize groups of people to ensure safe evacuation of the area. Mark watched as Irene moved through the crowd with a very motherly presence bringing a sense of calm to everyone around her. He had an urge to reach into his pocket for his phone, pull up the notepad app, and make a note to call his own mom when this was all over. Irene was much better at this part, so Mark decided just to keep an eye out for more danger, instead of trying to impress people with his lack of rescue skills.
A series of almost muffled pops and cracks was echoing between the buildings. Mark wasn't sure when the sounds started, but he was pretty sure it was gunfire, since it came from the north end of 4th Street where the scorpion was headed. Was that the sound of a few armed civilians making a stand, or had law enforcement finally arrived on the scene? A staccato of deeper thumps joined the distant cacophony. Automatic gunfire. The military must be on the scene.
“What took them so long?” he asked Irene.
“What? Took who so long?”
He realized he wasn't sharing the other half of the conversation he was having in his head. Glancing down to check the time, he noticed that only twelve minutes had passed since this whole thing started. Maybe it didn't take them that long after all.
He waved his hand. “C'mon, we should head south, away from all the shooting.”
Mark and Irene made their way another block when more gunfire erupted much closer than before. The cracking was far louder, and much clearer, causing them to flinch and press themselves against the building. Two more scorpions were heading west on Bridger Avenue, fleeing from the hail of bullets meant to put them down. One was so close, Mark could see all of the detail on its spindly, hairy legs. He had his right arm pressing Irene against the wall to keep her back, even after the two monstrous insects had passed.
> He was expecting to see some type of truck or jeep in pursuit, but what he saw next shook him to his core. The crunch of crushed pavement, and the cracking of concrete walls announced the arrival of the newest party guest.
Mark realized that he already wasted the adjective 'giant' on the scorpions, so when he saw a lizard that dwarfed them, he didn't even bother trying to label it in his mind. It was a gila monster, four stories high at its shoulder. Its bulk easily filled the entire width of the street, sidewalk to sidewalk. The waddling side to side gait of the gila monster caused its shoulders and tail to smash windows, walls, light poles and pretty much every fixture in its way, like so many twigs and leaves. The gargantuan reptile lunged at the smaller of the two scorpions, grasping the unlucky insect firmly in its powerful jaws. Yes, gargantuan. That suited this thing perfectly Mark decided.
In three gulping bites, the scorpion disappeared into the maw of the gila monster. Before the partially satiated beast could politely wipe the corners of its mouth with the nearest napkin, a thunderous burst of gunfire pulled its attention back, interrupting the post meal preening. Tracer rounds struck the beast on its haunches, spooking the behemoth. It ran with ridiculous speed for its size, climbing directly over the two-story office complex directly across the street, shattering all of the windows underneath its girth.
A Humvee kept in pursuit, firing fifteen-round bursts from the mounted M2 heavy machine gun. Each 160 decibel boom exploding from its barrel punched Mark with a pressure wave through his whole body. He shielded Irene's body with his own, and did his best to cover his ears.
Moments later, a distant, fuzzy voice broke through the ringing in his ears.
“We've got two more here!”
Mark felt a hand clap into his shoulder as the voice, still fuzzy and distant addressed him.
“Are you OK, sir?”
“Yeah, we're fine,” he said, perhaps a bit too loud. “A little shaken, but I think we're good.”
A second soldier was helping Irene back to her feet. She didn't seem to be handling this as well as Mark was. Tears streamed down her face, as she shook, trying to cope with the situation. He almost wondered if he wasn't fully grasping the gravity of the situation, allowing him to cope with the situation differently in his blissful ignorance.
Monsters Heroes Cowboys & Zombies Page 1
