by Matt James
Luckily, it only takes me a couple of seconds to find Cooper. He’s flat on his back, out cold. I check for a pulse, relieved to find one. It’s strong too, but eventually, he’ll suffocate in this artificial tunnel. It’s quickly filling with more and more smoke. I grab his vest and pull, dragging him back the way I came.
Poking my head out of the rabbit hole, I watch as trouble arrives in the form of two goblins. Letting them get closer, Jill nonchalantly lifts her gun and sends them both sprawling to the ground outside of where the western wall used to be. She winks and turns her attention back to the outside world. Grinning, I dump Cooper at her feet and dive back into the box fort from hell.
When I was a kid, I used to make forts like this, but not with boxes. Well, sometimes, I did. Usually, I’d use my parents’ dining room chairs and whatever blankets they’d let me use. Occasionally, just for kicks, I’d use my Transformers bedsheets. The knobs on the backrests of the chairs were perfect for constructing the best blanket forts ever. All you had to do was lay a corner of the blanket over the knob and then wrap two or three rubber bands around them both.
This…is not that! This is me, a broken-down, forty-year-old man, going through boot camp for an End Times military squadron in the year 2157. My knees and back are killing me, and so is what I’m inhaling!
I cough hard and stir Jerry awake. His movements startle me, and I smack the back of my head on the metal siding above me. I wince in pain, but it subsides when I see him push himself off of his stomach and look up at me. He’s bleeding from an injury I can’t see.
“Go,” I say, pointing behind me. “Help Jill and Cooper.”
He nods and collects his rifle and his hat. “Where’s Andy?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, coughing again. “Gonna keep looking, though.”
He pats my shoulder and disappears behind me. I continue forward and see a blissful opening in the ceiling just up ahead. Needing fresh-ish air, I hurry and practically leap to my feet. For my reckless efforts, I take a bullet to my left shoulder and bang hard into the scraps surrounding me. I cut my chin on the way back into my hole and hit the concrete hard.
Moaning, I prod at the gunshot wound, happy to feel that it’s on the outer edge of my shoulder meat. It’ll hurt like hell, but it won’t turn into a kill shot unless infection sets in. I don’t plan on sticking around long enough for that to happen. I tuck my left arm into my body and scamper along like a three-legged dog.
Just call me ‘Tripod.’
If I’m forced to draw my pistol, it’ll be an awkward and painful moment. I can’t worry about that right now. The first thing I need to do is get out of this maze and find Andy.
Where the hell did she run off to?
There’s a break in the carpet rolls to my right. I turn and keep moving. I spot another stream of sunlight up ahead and aim for it, but just as I’m about to get to it, a goblin hops in and spots me. I groan, pull free my Glock, and put two in the creature’s chest. He goes down in a heap, thrashing like he’s getting attacked by bees.
His slow death makes me pause my pursuit. It also delays me in getting another lungful of breathable air. Though, wherever I am in the warehouse right now, the air does seem a bit better than before. If I had to guess, I’m near the still intact, eastern wall.
Slowly, I edge over to the goblin, needing him to die faster.
“Eh, fuck it,” I say, shooting him in the head.
Now, I freely scramble over his corpse. This time, I tilt my head back and only lift my face into the opening. I take a few wonder breaths and drop back in. The fresh air clears some of the cobwebs too. The fumes are bad.
I continue forward, but quickly realize that there’s nowhere else to go. The path beyond is wholly filled with debris. So, I go back to the prairie dog hole and take another look.
I quickly raise my hand into the air and yank it back down. Thankfully, no one tried to shoot it off. I try again and hold it there for a second. Still, no shot. One more time. Still, nothing.
Huh.
Not knowing what I’m going to see, I peek my head out and roll my eyes. There’s an immense piece of roofing in front of me. It’s totally blocking the hole from Farrell’s position by the front doors. I’ve got nothing to fear except more Unseen.
But I also have nowhere to go.
“Hmmm.”
I turn and see something. There’s a gap in the siding further to the east. If I can climb out of my hobbit hole, I can get over there in no time flat... But it’ll also mean I’ll be exposed.
Gotta chance it.
I get a leg up and roll onto the metal siding, happy it doesn’t announce my presence to anyone. I get to my feet and lunge forward—just as a bullet rips into the cover behind me. I go diving headfirst into the gap between plates and wiggle, dropping to the concrete floor beneath.
“Ouch,” I say, checking my shoulder. It’s really bleeding now.
Rolling onto my stomach, I head off and come across an opening in the tunnel twenty feet later. Staying just inside the exit, I lean out into the open and take a look at what awaits me. Several dead Unseen are laid out all around me. At least, I think they’re dead? Either way, I’m not about to check for pulses.
It’s quiet too.
“Andy?” I ask, whispering into my radio. “Come on, An—”
“She’s not available.”
Farrell…
“Where is she?” I ask, raising my gun.
I step out and stand. When I do, I spot both women. They’re back toward the middle of the warehouse. Andy is leaning up against one of the tall rolled rugs. She’s alive but hurt, though I’m not sure to what extent.
Farrell sees me emerge, and she reacts by pointing a pistol at Andy’s head. I don’t shoot, and I keep moving. I’ll do so until threatened to do otherwise. Strangely, Farrell doesn’t order me to “stop and throw down my weapon.” Instead, she smiles, almost inviting me to get closer.
I almost don’t see her friend rise up in my periphery. Luckily, I’m not the only one that sees him. The gunman’s head snaps back and falls back into his hole. The report of a gunshot rings out around us, getting a slight smile out of me. Farrell doesn’t look amused, however. Her last confidant has been taken out, and now she’s on her own.
“You’re all clear, Frank,” Cooper says.
I’m about to ask him if he can see Farrell. If he can, he could end this quickly and without warning. Unfortunately, she’s tucked herself deeper into the rugs and still has her gun up to Andy’s temple. It’s too much of a risk to ask, so I don’t. His angle wouldn’t be good enough to risk not hitting Andy.
“So,” Farrell says, close enough not to use the radio, “it’s Frank, is it?”
I shrug. “And you must be Casey.”
She has short, dirty-blonde hair and is about my age. I’m not sure if her hair is naturally dirty-blonde, or if it's because she's filthy. Without asking her, I’m going to go ahead and assume it's because she’s grubby. She’s of average height and toned from her years of working out while she behind bars. I’m guessing that’s why, anyway.
I look around. “Your reputation proceeds you.”
She grins.
“That wasn’t a compliment,” I say, stepping into the central pathway. From here, it’s about a twenty-foot beeline to Farrell.
Andy’s eyes are pleading for help. The way her left arm is laying against her body tells me she’s been severely injured. While I approach them, I get a glimpse of a trio of Unseen heading our way. They’re coming in from the west. Directly behind Farrell.
She can’t see them.
“Cooper,” I say into my radio, “stand down.”
“But—” he goes to reply, but I cut him off.
“Trust me. Stand all the way down.” I almost laugh at what I say next. “I know what I’m doing.”
I hope he understands that I want him to let the goblins get in close. I need their arrival to distract Farrell long enough to get Andy to safety. Andy
seems to comprehend my plan. Her eyes are filled with worry and unsureness. Basically, I need to kill some time until that happens.
“Lovely weather we’re having, huh?” I ask, stopping fifteen feet away. I’m still staring down the barrel of my Glock, mentally cursing at the goblins for taking so damn long.
Andy is the one that reacts, rolling her eyes and groaning.
Farrell’s eyes glance down to Andy and then back to me. “What’s he trying to pull?”
“Nothing,” Andy says, chuckling softly, “he’s just an idiot.” She shifts and winces. “You should hear him on long road trips. Absolutely brutal.”
Huh… Good one.
I look past Farrell and see that the Unseen are almost upon us.
“So,” I say, “how do you two know each other?” I already know, but I want Farrell to stay busy until company arrives for dinner.
Her eyes narrow. “Her dead brother is the reason I’ve spent the last eight years in prison.”
Uh, oh, I think, waiting for Andy to react.
She does, but she doesn’t respond to the “dead brother” comment.
“Where’s my nephew?” she shouts, her voice cracking.
“Who?” Farrell asks, looking confused.
“Tyson’s son—TJ—my nephew! Where is he?” Tears streak down Andy’s face.
It takes a moment for Farrell to figure it. “Oh… Him…” She snorts out a laugh. “He’s dead, honey. I fed him to the Conrads two weeks ago.”
Lots of things happen all at once.
Despite her serious injury, Andy leaps to her feet and shoves Farrell’s gun hand up, screaming in rage and anguish. The goblins pounce. And, from directly behind me, a burner comes sauntering into the warehouse.
I can’t shoot the burner and risk blowing myself up and bringing down the rest of the building. So, I turn and train my gun on the nearest goblin. He’s standing atop the rolled rugs, directly above the two women.
I quickly squeeze the trigger, which must send a message to Cooper and Jerry. The other three Unseen go down in spurts of blood and echoing gunfire. Now, it's just me, Andy, Farrell, and the burner. Andy goes down, clubbed in the face with Farrell’s pistol. She isn’t unconscious, but she won’t be moving very quickly either.
A bullet zings past me and buries itself in the burner’s thigh. The projectile’s origin? Farrell.
“What are you doing?” I yell, sending a duo of rounds her way. She dives behind a vertical roll of carpet, cackling like a witch the entire time.
“Fire is a beautiful thing, is it not?”
I edge forward, glancing over my shoulder at the limping burner every other step I take. Each time his left foot hits the ground, a plume of fire bursts from the hole in his thigh. We’re matching strides, but eventually, I’m going to have to stop and help Andy. Then, I’ll be forced to make a choice: Farrell or the burner.
If I choose Farrell, then I’ll get attacked from behind by the burner. But if I select the creature, then Farrell will put two in my back, and I’m not ready to be shot again. First, it was in my chest/vest, then, in my shoulder. I’m curious to see what the Vegas odds are for my head this time around.
Decisions, decisions… Something comes to me. Hmmm.
“So, you love fire, right?”
No answer.
“Did you know that the burner is contagious? If it bites you, you become one of them. You become the fire.”
If you survive the initial attack… I decide to leave that part out.
I rush to Andy’s side and help her up, keeping my gun trained on the stacks of rugs behind her.
“What…are you doing?” she asks, rubbing her head.
I wink and call out again. “So, what’s it going to be, Farrell?” We start backing away. “You can have your ‘Angel of Purity.’ I won’t stop you. We’ll leave you alone.”
Still no answer. The only thing I hear is more soft laughter. She’s talking to herself too. The woman is beyond mentally shattered.
“Do it, Farrell!” I yell. “Become the fire!”
“Shut up!” she screams. “Everyone shut up!”
“Everyone?” Andy asks.
CRACK.
I look up and see the ceiling above us split. Right… Now, we run. Mostly, I lift Andy off the ground with my injured arm and wail in pain as I drag her away from the crumbling remains of the distribution center. Away from Farrell and the burner too. Luckily, Andy is still coherent enough to help me with her footing, I’m not in the kind of shape to do it all on my own right now.
Cooper rushes toward us, pistol drawn, leaping onto, and over, every piece of metal siding and roofing he can. He’s taking the shortcut through to us. From what I can gander, Jerry is staring into the scope of his weapon and waiting for a shot. He doesn’t get one, though. We turn when we pass him and stop at the Yukon.
Farrell wails in agony.
Apparently, she let the fire come to her instead of her going to it. Her cries are cut short by a gunshot and an explosion.
“Crazy bitch,” Andy mutters.
“TJ?” Cooper asks, sliding to a halt.
I shake my head.
“Dammit,” he growls, taking Andy’s weight from me.
Jill is behind the wheel of the lead SUV, sadness smeared across her face. She must know what has happened based on everyone’s somber tone as we exit the warehouse. Her eyes ask the question.
“I’ll tell you later,” I say as I pass by her window.
Cooper and I help Andy into the passenger seat of Jack and Tara’s Yukon. It’s not a smooth transition, but at least she can relax and take a moment.
“Hey, Jerry?”
“Yeah, Frank? he replies, stepping up.
“Look after them, will ya? If there’s trouble, Cooper isn’t going to be able to do much while driving.”
Jerry nods and slides into the back-passenger seat.
“Give me a second,” Cooper says. “I want to double-check that Jack and Tara are, well, you know...”
No one attempts to dissuade him, and he heads off in a jog with another word. Everyone stays silent for the few minutes that he’s gone. I can see him rooting through the rubble near where the eastern entrance used to be. He’s found a couple of things, but nothing alive.
Somber, he stops in front of me and shakes his head.
“They’re gone… Got one of their radios, at least.”
“Sorry, man,” I say, putting a hand on his shoulder.
He nods, eyes wet. “So, where to?”
I grin. “Follow us.”
With everyone inside one of the two remaining Yukons, I take a moment to myself and actually enjoy the weather. The breeze is stiff, but peaceful. I’m sure I could get used to the weather, if I was afforded the time to do so. Right now, the tingle and shiver it gives me, is just a reminder of the constant fear I’m dealing with.
Including TJ, five CPD officers lost their lives in pursuit of Tyson’s killer. Five! Even though they agreed that avenging his death while looking for his son, was worth it—it wasn’t. No way in hell was it worth their own lives. I’m sorry, but there are very few people I’d sacrifice myself to save that aren’t in my immediate family.
I understand Andy’s willingness. The other people, Jack, Tara, Dom, and John-Ryan… I just… I just don’t get it.
“Frank?” Jill calls out.
Her voice gets me moving again. I climb into the passenger seat, happy that we’re alone. I lean over and give her a kiss. She leans into me and makes it an extra-long, passionate one.
“That…was nice,” Jill says, taking a deep breath.
“Just nice?”
Jill’s face turns predatory—in a good way.
“I’ll show you better tonight.”
My eyes go wide. Jackpot!
Jill turns and gazes through the rear window of the SUV. “What about them?”
Without looking, I say, “Lead the way, mama duck. Take us home.”
26
The tr
ek north is a somber one. From the other Yukon, we listen as Cooper does his best to contact his MIA friends. Unfortunately, it’s to no avail.
We make it back to the intersection where everything went to hell and find a torched body inside of an equally charred Yukon. Who it is, Dom or John-Ryan, we don’t know? But Dom himself told us that his partner was dead, so I figure this one is Dom.
“Anyone out there at all?” Cooper asks, his voice shaking. “Anyone?”
Radio silence.
So much death in the name of life. We came down to Chattanooga for supplies and—
“Shit,” I say, looking over at Jill. “Hope.”
“What about Hope?”
“Her gift.”
Jill’s eyes close, and she bites her lip. It’s Christmas Eve, after all. It’ll be her first one in this new world, and we were trying to make it a memorable one—in a positive way. Our other mission was to find something neat for her while searching for supplies, but the only thing we found was more injuries and three more people to look after.
Though, I’m pretty sure this trio can take care of themselves.
Two Chattanooga cops and a retired SEAL. It’s the makings of a small army.
We turn northwest, onto Peace Creek, the two-lane access road that leads back up the hill to Sanctuary.
“Woah!” Jill shouts as something darts out in front of us. She yanks hard on the steering wheel and immediately goes to straighten us out. I stop her.
“Pull over!”
“Why?” she asks, confused.
“Just do it!”
She does, and I quickly open my door, gun up, clearing the surrounding area. I saw what ran out in front of us. It went straight into the trees lining the right-hand side of the street. But instead of lining up the creature in my sights, I holster my gun, and wave Cooper and the others off. I don’t want them to scare off the animal.
Tentatively, I get to one knee. The non-threatening posture hurts. But damn, if this works, it’ll be worth it!
“Come here,” I say softly, making kissing noises. Next, I whistle—quickly following it up with more kisses.
