Mace of the Apocalypse

by Daniel J. Williams

  Bo climbed onto the small balcony outside the window first, grabbing Sarah’s hand and helping her through as she trembled uncontrollably. He grabbed her by the waist, thrusting her upward towards the roof, and she grabbed at the gutter and scrambled to get up and out of harms way. Placing a foot on the railing, Bo jumped up behind her as the door began to splinter and the infected clawed their way through. Sarah and Bo Thompson half-ran and half-crawled up the roof to the chimney, where they huddled, petrified, listening and watching as their neighborhood exploded into a phantasm of horror. Hundreds raged swiftly through the street, dropping and devouring any that got in their way. With precision-like movement the virus spread as victim turned to homicidal maniac; the pattern repeated over and over and over again.

  “My God, My God,” wept Sarah softly, shivering with fear and cold as mayhem erupted below.

  “Oh My God, that’s John Anderson,” whispered Bo, stunned beyond belief at what was happening. “Oh my dear God….”

  Chapter 11

  Father McCann sat scrunched up in the attic, looking down upon the bloodied body of his former friend.

  “I’ll miss you, Tomas, for the times we should have shared.”

  Shaking his head sadly; old, faded memories of friendship and struggle came back with razor clarity. The room was empty now except for Tomas’ corpse, as the infected had left in a blood-thirsty rage, needing new live victims to satisfy their fury.

  “Enough for six people.” Father McCann repeated the instructions slowly. “God, what do I do?”

  The small amount was all that Tomas had been able to safely smuggle out. More could be created, but Father McCann hadn’t been able to absorb the details in the madness of the moment. What he did know was they would need access to a real lab. Closing the box, he looked back down at what remained of his friend. He made the sign of the cross over his body and performed last rites. “May you rest in peace, Tomas. May your sacrifice place you in the peace of His Presence.”

  Father McCann rested his back against a beam in the attic. He would wait in the safety of the attic until Mace arrived. He didn’t know how, but he knew that it was only a matter of time. It was fate. It was the culmination of the events of his life. Inside, he knew it was always meant to be.

  *****

  “We need to get out. We’re running out of gas,” Mace said as calmly as possible and the car stuttered its last paces near the Palace of Fine Arts. He looked towards the outcrop of historic buildings. “We’ll have to find a place to hide in there for now. When I say go, run and don’t stop. Put Chelsea up here with me. I’ll carry her. Get ready and follow my lead.”

  The madness that had overwhelmed the streets had abated for a brief moment, as many people sought sanctuary among the fortress of their homes after news reports showed the hopelessness of escape, and the infected, as of yet, had not yet cut a path through this neighborhood.

  They had just heard the reports on the car radio and knew that the bridges were blocked. The city was overrun and there would be no hope of rescue, as the authorities had no choice but to release the city to the toxin and pull back.

  The emergency broadcast system urged people to stay indoors and lock all doors and windows. Any help would be at least seventy hours in coming, as police and rescue crews had all but been decimated by the scourge of the infected.

  “Now,” Mace whispered loudly as he opened the door, hugging Chelsea to his chest as he made a beeline for the main structure. Fear was everywhere as they quickly sprinted out of the car.

  The sky had an effervescent glow from numerous fires burning out of control, and the smell of burning debris and flesh lingered in the air. Most of the houses were completely black, except for the occasional soft flicker of a television, where news reports streamed in about the latest areas being overrun.

  Hammering could be heard in quite a few homes as people tried to fortify them from whatever was to come. Mace avoided looking at them. He didn’t know what they’d find if they suddenly showed up on a doorstep and was afraid they could quickly become a death trap. He’d seen what had happened downtown.

  As they ran, their flashlights jerkily lit up the path before them, casting quick, eerie shadows and creating optical illusions of moving things, adding to the terror. They made their way onto the grounds of the Palace of Fine Arts, under the cover of the trees, and in this atmosphere of death and decay, the trees seemed to reach for them with malevolent intentions.

  “They’re coming,” Mace whispered, and they stopped and held their breath. Chelsea clutched Mace tightly, and her trembling body made his resolution stronger. They couldn’t determine the direction of the shrieking but it was coming fast. That was obvious.

  Mace flashed his light on one of the columns of the Rotunda Dome, the huge architectural wonder that stood next to the Palace of Fine Arts, and aimed his flashlight along the Corinthian columns, spotting one of the big circular planting boxes that ran high along the rear of the colonnades. The boxes were about twelve feet high and were decorated with statues of maidens and garland, and had never been planted. He thought about trying to climb into one of those until noticing the smaller planter boxes to the right. They were spaced like a staircase, each box two feet higher, and he suddenly recalled seeing children climbing up and playing around, running on the top of the structure once they had reached it.

  “Up here.”

  The Palace of Fine Arts was one of his favorite spots in San Francisco, graceful and majestic, where he came often with Jason and where he had planned to propose to Jade. Yet now in the flickering shadows of the flashlights, it looked haunting and foreboding and he tried to push fearful thoughts for Jason’s welfare out of his head for the time being.

  Lisa saw the face of Doug Foss appear in the darkness, but before she could scream it was gone. Her imagination was out of control and she was on the verge of a heart attack. The only thing that kept her from losing it completely was maternal despondency for Chelsea’s welfare.

  They reached the bottom of the box and Mace shifted Chelsea in his arms, her death grip difficult to release. The top of the structure was about twenty feet up and was wide enough to hide all of them. There were five, two foot sections of layered, empty planter boxes leading close up to its top. They made it to the top and immediately laid flat, Mace passing Chelsea to Lisa.

  “Flashlights off,” Mace whispered! Sweat was running off him. They pushed against each other, trying to keep themselves close to the middle and out of sight. The morbid collection of shrieks was growing deafening and they waited for the infected to appear through the darkness.

  A different sounding scream lifted towards them as a teenage couple came tearing through the museum grounds, stumbling and falling in the darkness. Mace and Jade both stuck their heads up at the same time and whispered loudly, over each other. “Up here.” Over here!”

  Jade flashed her light once to show their position, and the couple fell over each other in their frantic attempt to find safety. As they scaled the concrete boxes, Mace reached down and grabbed the girl, pulling her up and then down on top of him, covering her mouth to quiet her screams, his eyes conveying the imperative need for silence. The boy dove down beside them, his body pressing as tightly against the concrete as possible.

  The infected followed right behind, shrieking madly with approach. They hadn’t seen the escape and ran right past the boxes. On top, with eyes wide open, they kept their ears pricked for any sound of climbing or discovery, not wanting to breathe or move an inch, as the fearful rage of the infected filled the night. The only sound that came from the top was the strange chorus of several restrained sobs, coupled with the quiet humming of Chelsea to a Sesame Street tune she was lost in. For what seemed like hours they passed, and Mace realized that their numbers were in the tens of thousands.

  The teenage girl started whimpering loudly, so Jade scooted quickly around to wrap her arms around her and console her. In between whispered sobs, when the surroundings were momenta
rily silent, the girl whispered her story.

  “Our parents are dead,” she sobbed quietly. “They attacked us in our car. They killed them. They just attacked them. They wouldn’t stop.”

  Jade hugged her closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispered softly. Jade thought she was about 15. “How did you get away?”

  “We were in the backseat. They pulled open the door and just lunged at my dad. They were horrible!” she said a little louder. She started sobbing again and Jade stroked her hair slowly, staying silent.

  “My dad starting convulsing then he threw up all over the car. And then my mom…” She stared blankly through Jade, reliving the horror. “We jumped out the back and then I lost my shoe when I jumped over a fence. It was chain link and my shoelace got caught at the top. ” She stayed silent for a few seconds. “They got stuck there. I landed on the other side on my butt and they tried to reach for me. I didn’t know what to do. Robbie yelled for me to run. They couldn’t figure out how to climb so I took off and when I looked back and they were piled on top of each other. Then the fence broke and I was sure we were dead.” Her voice was monotone and slow. “You saved us.” She looked at Jade and saw her for the first time. “You saved us.”

  As the night wore on and the temperature dipped, Mace pulled out the extra shirts he had packed and distributed them to everyone. He pulled out the power bars and they all quietly ate, ravenous with hunger once they tasted food in their mouths. They huddled together to keep warm, and took turns keeping watch, as the number of infected started dwindling with each passing hour. Mace didn’t know where were going, but decided they had to make a break for it first thing in the morning. They’d be dead if they stayed where they were.

  Mace spoke his thoughts slowly and clearly. “We need to get out of here once it’s light. We’ll get a car and find out what’s going on, and we’ll see if we can’t find some more people like us. There’s safety in numbers.”

  Rob, the girl’s teenage brother, spoke up for the first time. “We’re going to need guns. Lots of guns. They move too fast.”

  Mace nodded lightly. “We’ll make a run for provisions if we have to. Stock up on everything we need. I’ve already thought of a few places we could go”

  Lisa held Chelsea close to her, still seeing the face of Doug Foss in the blackness. Part of his face was missing.

  From the darkness, Rob spoke again, and Mace could hear the fire in his voice. “I want to kill every last one of them for what they’ve done. What we need are guns.”

  His sister tried to put a hand on his shoulder but he sloughed it off.

  “Don’t, Yvette. I want them all dead.”

  Chapter 12

  As the hours passed and new reports of infestation reached Washington, Government officials threw their hands up in panicked frustration and privately began making arrangements for themselves and their families for escape. Plans were also being implemented for a massive nuclear strike against rogue nations deemed responsible for the attacks.

  If the United States was going to fall, all who were responsible would also be held accountable. The President held a news conference, lying and saying that the situation was under control, and that those responsible would be met with harshly and without mercy.

  The President also held a series of private meetings, highlighting the need to inform and assist those who were on a survival list. He dispatched military personnel to quickly and quietly gather those who would be crucial to the redevelopment of the Nation after the attacks had waned. They would be held in underground shelters, designed for a last resort scenario, where they could survive for at least a year from any contamination or nuclear fallout. Unfortunately, the toxin would eventually find its way inside the shelters and destroy any hope of a fully structured Society.

  The President reluctantly began the countdown for a massive nuclear strike. As he made preparations for escape, he said a small prayer in anticipation of what was to come. “In this hour, Lord, hear my prayer.”

  Chapter 13

  The dawn finally broke over a burning and decimated city, as Mace and the others stretched their tired limbs while trying to remain out of sight. Lisa clutched Chelsea to her breast and they both shivered in the morning chill. Chelsea was still quiet and unresponsive. Looking out over the eerie quiet of the museum grounds, Jade felt an odd sense of peace. Yvette and Rob quietly bickered over something, leading Jade to shush them. She nodded an all clear to Mace, who rapidly made his way down the planter to quickly scout the area and decide a firm course of action.

  Something moved up ahead in the bushes and he pulled his gun from its holster, flicking off the safety. “Not already, damn it,” he muttered as he squatted to get a better look, taking another quick glance at his surroundings. The waiting is the worst part, he thought, when from behind the bush jumped a Labrador retriever, golden and shiny in the morning light. Mace eased up as the dog approached, and a small smile cracked his lips as the dog wiggled excitedly as it grew closer, yelping and jumping at his hand. Mace patted the dog on the head out of habit, looking around as he did so.

  “Here boy,” he called out quietly as he started walking, and the dog fell in step, tongue rolled out and tail wagging happily. It was just another surreal moment.

  Making his way to the back of the museum towards Baker Street, claustrophobia cast an ugly net over Mace. Feeling a deep sadness at the ruined remains of a once beautiful and quiet San Francisco neighborhood, his eyes suddenly clouded over and he held himself in check for a moment.

  “You’ve got to keep it together.”

  Mace took a deep breath, checking his surroundings carefully again. There were three cars left in the middle of the street with their doors still open, blood splattered everywhere, where panicked motorists had unsuccessfully tried to escape, and where Yvette and Rob’s parents had been murdered. Mace could picture their panicked last moments and felt his skin crawl.

  There was no one on the street, at least as far as Mace could tell, and in the distance the only sound he could hear was of a dying car alarm. It was then that he saw it. “Fucking perfect.” It was an old fullsized school bus, painted a number of fluorescent colors with blankets covering the windows. It was a psychedelic travel bus for a group of Merry Pranksters, and it might give them a shot at survival. Nodding in satisfaction, he immediately turned back towards the planter box with the dog following close behind.

  A shot suddenly rang out in the direction of his companions and he bolted towards the planter, as three more shots blasted in quick succession. The shrieks started immediately, from all directions, and his heart jumped in his throat as they appeared out of everywhere. He made it to the clearing and at least a dozen were already at the steps. He felt dizzy as they stormed towards the planter. We’re going to die here, he realized. They were everywhere and coming fast. He could hear the women screaming. More shots rang out as they tried to keep them from reaching the top of the structure.

  Mace fired eight shots at a full speed run towards the boxes. A terrible shriek pierced his ears as one barreled towards him from behind, and more now diverted towards him from all directions, attracted by the gun shots. The dog bolted away, running full speed towards the bushes it had first come from. “God help me!” Mace yelled in a panic as he swung around, lifting his pistol and firing a round directly into the closest ones head. It stumbled forward and fell into him, almost knocking him down, and its hand briefly caught on the flash grenade on his belt. He stared at it in recognition and quickly ripped it off as they were on him. He pulled the pin as their fingers reached him, dropping it as their hands grabbed for him. He ducked as they converged and bobbed to the left as they crashed into him and each other. He briefly went down but was able to take three more steps before they were on him again.

  This is it, he cried out inside as they tackled him to the ground. Their mouths closed in on him as an enormous bang suddenly erupted, followed immediately by an extremely bright flash. Everything grew still f
or a moment and Mace wasn’t sure what had happened. He then remembered the flash grenade. The shrieks suddenly took on a different tone: One of pure agony. He pushed the infected off that were on top of him and realized they weren’t moving. Looking down at them in revulsion, their eyes had popped out of their heads and exploded, leaving bloody fragments all over their faces. They were dead: For good this time.

  Twenty feet away the others that had survived the initial blast were shrieking in torment, blinded by the flash, swinging wildly around. The blast had scattered those that hadn’t been killed or blinded. They had either vanished, were sprinting away, or were frozen in place, cowering, lost in a world of internal terror. A few were dead on top of the planter boxes but from first appearances it looked as if his friends were all still alive.

  He carefully moved around the cowering infected; he had eight bullets left in the clip and didn’t want to waste ammunition or risk another assault. Turning his back on them, he rushed up the planter boxes to the top of the structure. The dog hung back at the edge of the bushes, pacing nervously, uncertain what to do.

  “Is everybody alright? We’ve got to get the hell out of here. Now.” Mace tried to cover the tremble in his voice.

  “I think so,” said Jade, still in a state of shock.

  “What happened?”

  All three women looked towards Rob, who was sitting against a concrete vase rubbing his chin. Jade spoke quickly. “Rob saw one about a hundred yards out and the next thing I know he’s got my gun and taking pot shots at it. I can’t believe how fast they came.”

  A flash of anger surged through Mace. “What the hell were you thinking? The plan was to stay quiet unless attacked. You almost got us all killed!” He looked around quickly. “We need to go now before they come back.”