In Memoriam

by Matt James

  “Door number one. Move it!”

  Slowly, but not too slowly, we glide across the tile floor. Thankfully, it’s a short walk. We cautiously set the garbage can down against the stairwell door and back away. Andy flips a table over while Jill takes down two more drones. We’re only twenty feet away from the bomb, so I’m not sure how much the table is going to help.

  Or how much boom power the can has.

  “Get down!” I shout, aiming my shotgun at the wastebasket. They do. “Fire in the hole!”

  I squeeze the trigger and drop to my hands and knees. The world around us turns to light and heat. My head and body are assaulted with the concussive force of a mule kick. The four of us are blown backward by the explosion…and the table. I’m the closest to it, and I take the brunt of the heavy piece’s weight. The corner of the room detonates into a fireball, and the outer wall of the hotel disappears, letting in another chilling draft.

  “Move!” Andy shouts, pulling me to my feet.

  I help Jill up, and we all head for the obliterated staircase entrance. I’m about to suggest that we should just climb outside. No dice, though. The wall is still on fire. Also, there’s too much dust in the air and metal shrapnel to safely navigate through it. So, one by one, we leap through the opening and clamber up the concrete steps as fast as our bruised bodies will carry us.

  With no extra shells and speed being of the essence, I toss the shotgun back over my head and take the lead. Gratefully, the drones aren’t fast, but I’m sure they’re exactly like the Unseen. They’ll never give up.

  But we’re faster.

  We hit the landing between floors at an awkward sprint, leaping another cadaver, an old one, in the process. I keep going, thinking about what to do next. The others will follow me no matter what I decide to do. The one thing I can guarantee is that I ain’t turning around and fighting. No way, no how. I may be suicidal with some of my actions, but I’m not that suicidal!

  The second floor is just up ahead. I will myself to move faster so I can check that the door is operable. It is, and I throw it open and almost get my head taken off by gunfire. Slamming it shut, I yelp and almost fall on my ass. Cooper scoops me up before I go down and slaps me on the shoulder.

  “Guess we aren’t goin’ that way, huh?” he asks.

  “Nope,” I say, pounding up the stairs once more.

  Almost to the next landing, we hear the door below us squeak open. When it does, the person that took aim at me shrieks and is bulldozed into by the onrush of drones. His screams are short-lived. He’s torn into, silenced by an army of people, not Unseen.

  It’s an incredible development. So far, all of our advisories have been either monsters, or ill-tempered humans. The drones seem to be a combination of both.

  “Skip the next floor,” I say, breathing hard. “Find a room on the fourth and hide.”

  Jill passes me, now in the lead.

  Everyone quickly agrees, and we do just that. She does as I said, and blows by the next level, making it to the landing outside the fourth floor in record time. Slowly, she opens the door and peeks in. She must not see anything because she steps through without conflict. Andy and Cooper are next. Then, me. Once I’m through we take the first right and try every doorknob in front of us.

  Eventually, the fifth one on the left opens, and we all pile in. Jill softly closes the door, gently locking it without a sound. Next, she steps back and raises her gun. I’m sucking in air as quietly as I can, gasping for air. I’m in good shape but I hate stairs. Always have. Something about them irks me to the core. Also, they actually irk my core—my legs too.

  Jill tiptoes back up to the door and leans into the peephole. Just as she begins to look through it, the door is hit from the other side. But she holds up her hand, never once backing away from the barrier. She doesn’t look as concerned as my sphincter feels.

  Ten seconds go by. Content, Jill backs away from the door, joining us in the living room of the beautiful hotel suite. The only one of us that’s facing the balcony is my wife. She’s bowled into by the door when its thrown off the hinges. I catch her and drag her away as Andy and Cooper take out anything that makes it through.

  “Outside!” I shout, helping my wife along. She’s still conscious, thank God. I wouldn’t have been able to carry her the whole way down.

  Yes, that’s what I said, down.

  Each floor, like most of the nicer places, has unpassable privacy walls between balconies. So, instead of attempting, and failing, to navigate them, we climb over the railing and carefully make our way down to the third floor.

  Andy is the last to join us, sending another barrage of bullets into the lessening horde.

  “I think that’s all of them!” she shouts.

  “Doesn’t matter!” I reply, yelling up to her from below. “We have no door.”

  Without arguing, Andy tosses her left leg over the metal railing. Cooper and I catch her foot and stabilize it until she gets a second boot down. Hand over hand, she successfully joins us below, looking right past the three of us when she arrives.

  Her eyes meet mine.

  There’s someone behind us.

  Jill, Cooper, and I spin and level our weapons into the open balcony door. We meet barrels with another person.

  “You!” Andy shouts once we see the newcomer is going to shoot us.

  “You?” I ask. My eyes glance back and forth from her to the man in the red, Arkansas Razorbacks hat. “You know him?”

  Red hat? Why does that sound familiar?

  She nods. “He’s the asshole that shot at us down in the parking lot!”

  We all make our way inside, and I shut the slider, cutting off the stiff, uncomfortable breeze in the process.

  “Don’t shoot! Let me explain!” he shouts, sounding frightened. He releases his right hand off the trigger, holding it non-threateningly by the barrel in his left hand. He isn't acting at all like someone that's interested in a fight.

  “Okay, then—explain!” I say, keeping my Glock trained on him.

  “You know the snake-man that’s been eatin’ all them people?” The four of us glance at one another before nodding our heads. “Well,” the corners of his grey, bearded mouth dip, “his name’s Jimmy.” His eyes dart away from us. “He’s my brother.”

  19

  Keeping our voices low, we are graciously able to relax, freely moving about the luxurious living room. Needing more information, we grill the old-timer. We’re friendly about it, though. I notice that the guy is about ten to fifteen years older than me so “old timer” should be used loosely to describe this guy. His disheveled appearance, however, does make him look a lot older.

  He seems reasonable enough—a little wild in the eyes, perhaps. I can tell he’s seen a thing or two, and considering his own flesh and blood is the creature from the Waterpark of Hell… Poor guy.

  His name is Jerry Kaplan, a retired Navy man.

  The suite itself is large, but still cozy, adorned with classic log-cabin-style decor. Statues of bears are the most consistent theme throughout the entire hotel now that I think about it, not just this room.

  After introducing ourselves, Jill and I sit directly across from Jerry, sharing a comfortable loveseat. Andy is to our right, leaning against the sliding-glass door. Cooper has pulled up a barstool behind Jill and me, propping his feet up on another stool.

  “What happened to Jimmy?” I ask, getting started.

  “He got bit,” Jerry replies.

  “Bit?” Jill asks, looking at me in confusion.

  As far as we know, the burners are the only contagious version of the Unseen. If there’s another virus out there, in Gatlinburg too, then Sanctuary might not have been such a great spot to settle down and start over. We may have to move again if things get out of control.

  “Mmmhmm,” Jerry grumbles. “It was my fifty-third, and we went huntin’. Jimmy got bit by a rattler.”

  “That’s it?” Cooper asks.

  I suspect that he
and Andy are pretty familiar with the type of snake since they are prevalent in these parts. We don’t have them down in Florida, where I come from, anyway, or up north in Manhattan.

  “Nah,” Jerry says, “this one was different. This one had a weird look to it. Its eyes glowed, and when it opened its mouth, it dripped the same godawful mess that Jimmy does now.”

  “And the snake?” I ask.

  “Killed it,” Jerry replies. “Put two in its head.”

  “Are there others like your brother?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah, just him.”

  “Why are you still here?” Andy asks, speaking up for the first time. “And why did you fire on us?”

  Jerry shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I was tryin’ to scare y’all away from this terrible place.” He shrugged. “Didn’t know y’all was police.”

  “That would’ve mattered?” she asks.

  He nods. “Woulda asked you for help in killin’ Jimmy instead.”

  The room goes silent.

  “Look,” he sits forward on his knees, “Jimmy was my best friend, but that monster down there,” he points at the floor, “that ain’t my kid brother no more.”

  “You live around here?” Cooper asks.

  “Nah, Jimmy and his wife do, well, they did… I’m just visitin’ from Arkansas for my birthday—the holidays too.”

  “And Jimmy’s wife?” Jill asks.

  Jerry looks outside. “She was the first to be…turned. Then, like all them other people downstairs, he, uh, you know…” His eyes water. “Saw the whole thing. Can’t get the nightmares to stop.”

  I stand. “I know how you feel, my friend.” He looks up at me. “I was in Manhattan.”

  Jerry’s eyes go wide. “You were, why?”

  “Her,” I say, tipping my chin toward Jill.

  “Mmm, I can understand that. You’re lucky to have one another.” He gives me a wink. “Especially someone as good lookin’ as her.”

  I’m surprised when Jill doesn’t punch Jerry in the face. But, nevertheless, she doesn’t. Instead, she actually smiles at the man. It’s the first time someone has outwardly mentioned her looks since she’s been injured, that she didn’t completely lose it on them.

  Cooper clears his throat. “If we’re going to put a stop to Jimmy, where do we start?”

  Everyone looks at Jerry.

  “The only thing I can say for sure is that his minions—”

  “We’re calling them ‘drones,’” I interrupt. “For discussion purposes. So we don’t confuse each other.”

  “Sure,” Jerry says, “same difference. These drones don’t like the bitter cold. So far, they’re confined to the hotel. I set some traps before hidin’ up here.”

  “Garbage can bomb,” Andy says, crossing her arms.

  He nods. “Among others, yes.”

  She looks at me with a look of worry. She mouths, “Farrell.” If the explosives are Jerry’s, that means that Casey Farrell isn’t here. It was just him trying to take out drones. My shoulders dip. We came here for no reason.

  That’s not true… We came here for a reason. We came here to help Jerry close out this horrible chapter. His brother is a danger to everyone who crosses him.

  But what about the gunfire back in the stairwell? Who was that?

  I ask Jerry.

  “Who’s the person downstairs that tried to kill us?”

  “Not sure,” he replies, “probably someone like me, just tryin’ to get out of the cold.”

  He might be right, but it could also be Farrell, or at least, one of her goons. I decide to table the concern until it rears its ugly head again. The shooter is dead, after all.

  “You have experience with explosives?” Andy asks.

  “Yup,” Jerry replies, standing, “I did some of that in the Navy. Then, I played around a little back home.” He winks. “Everyone needs a hobby.” I’m beginning to question the man’s sanity…until he starts to chuckle. “Just messin’ with you. But yes, I did demolitions in the service.”

  “SEAL?” Cooper asks.

  Jerry turns and walks to the slider. “Once…” His voice is soft and distant.

  There’s a memory boiling to the top that we don’t need to know. I know what that far-off look means. Something terrible happened to him while he was serving our country.

  “So,” I say, breaking the silence.

  “Yeah, Jimmy…” Jerry clears his throat. “He’s okay out in the cold for short spurts. Best I can guess, is that it’s because he’s mostly reptile now. They obviously don’t like the cold. And, for whatever reason, he’s been hanging around the waterpark. Seems to be his…” Jerry searches for the right word, “his den, I guess.”

  I recall the waterpark itself, mostly the massive creature’s entrance into it. He used a large rooftop access point to gain entry. He didn’t follow us through the hallways, either. He’s too big to pursue us indoors—that’s it!

  I face Jerry. “You have enough equipment to wire the windows above the waterpark?”

  He scratches his chin, ruffling his thick beard in the process. “Suppose so, why?”

  “If we trap him inside the park and unload everything we have into him…”

  Jerry nods. “The winds will funnel in, more than he should be able to handle.”

  “Should?” Cooper asks.

  He shrugs. “This ain’t science, Mr. Stills.”

  Cooper grins. He likes the old-timer too.

  Andy steps forward. “So, I’m assuming we’re the bait?”

  I don’t like it, but it shouldn’t surprise me either. We’re the kind of people who do crazy things to get things done. We don’t have the luxury of time or information. If I’m the leading authority on all things Unseen, then we’re in serious trouble. I have a lot of experience against these bastards, but I’m not what you’d call an expert.

  Jill laughs. “Why not? Getting into deep shit is what we do best!”

  The four of us laugh. Jerry doesn’t. He just looks at us like we’re crazy.

  I comment on his reaction. “Get used to it, Jerry. We’re a screwed-up bunch of assholes.”

  He grins. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”

  Cooper hefts his FN SPR onto his shoulder. “I’ll go with Jerry.” He pats the weapon. “I’m better at a distance with this thing. I might be able to distract Jimmy while you do the same thing below. Maybe get a better angle too.”

  20

  Before heading out, Jerry gladly shares the rest of his rations with us. He had collected a decent supply of canned food and water, perfect for world-enders like us. I wish I could say we didn’t wipe him out, but we did. His provisions were enough for him alone, not the five of us. Now, we’re all adequately hydrated, and our bellies are full.

  Silently, I open the suite’s door and peek out into the hall. Looking left, I’m happy to see that the way is clear. Next, I look right. There, back near the entrance to the stairwell, is one of Jimmy’s drones.

  I’m glad I decided to lead with my bow.

  Slowly, I step out into the musty hallway, nock an arrow, and raise my bow. I smoothly draw back the string. It makes the quietest of shinks, alerting the drone to my presence. She turns just as I release the bolt.

  Like a sound-suppressed bullet, the projectile silently traverses the distance between shooter and target. In the blink of an eye, the triple-bladed barb embeds itself deep in the drone’s chest. Grotesquely, it punches its way through until the tip erupts from her back in a spout of yellow mucus. Their preparation seems to have weakened their bodies to the point that something like this is possible.

  Unsheathing my knife, I rush forward and plunge the blade into the woman’s throat. She struggles for a moment, but drifts into unconsciousness, gone forever. I pull my knife free and clean it on her pants. The arrow will be all but impossible to remove, so I just let it be. Later, buddy. Reacquiring my bolts has been standard practice for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever find a proper resupply.
/>   I sheath my blade, high step over a puddle of goo, and head back to the suite. The viscous material has me worried.

  There, I quietly ask Jerry. “Are the drones contagious?”

  He shakes his head and lifts his left arm. He rolls up his sleeve to reveal his bandaged forearm. “Got bit last week. I haven’t felt any different.”

  Cooper rubs his face. “Now, he tells us.”

  “Good shootin’, by the way,” Jerry says, eyeing the body.

  “Yeah,” Jill says, “it’s annoying how good he’s gotten with that thing.”

  I grin. Things between us are starting to feel normal again.

  I hope so, anyways.

  “Good luck,” I say, shaking Cooper and Jerry’s hands.

  “I’m gonna go with them,” Andy says. She doesn’t explain why, but I know why. She wants to be with her close friend if this is her last day on Earth. It’s what I’d say if it were me in her shoes.

  Andy, for her part, doesn’t shake my hand. Instead, she leans in and gives me a soft peck on the cheek. Then, she leans around me and smiles softly at Jill. “Take care of him, will ya?”

  Jill nods, not at all upset about the loving gesture. Andy is thanking me for my help, not looking for a good time. She’s thanking me for giving a damn.

  The old-timer has his rifle, a Thompson/Center variety, on one shoulder, and a tightly packed duffle bag of explosives on the other. Now, with Andy included, the plan is for the trio to set enough charges to detonate the glass ceiling above the waterpark with Jimmy atop it. Hopefully, they’ll be successful. Jill and I won’t get down there as quickly as they’ll get to the roof. There’s direct access to it through the window at the end of the hall.

  Jill and I head off, avoid the mess I made, and take up positions near the stairwell door and wait for Cooper to make his move. He’s wrapped a towel around the stock of his scoped FN SPR and immediately drives it straight through without another second wasted. The noise alerts two more drones, and they both come bounding up the steps. Expecting as much, Jill and I wait with our guns drawn. Cooper and Jerry are already out of sight. Andy follows them outside, but not before giving us one last wave good—