by Jack Wallen
Nothing grabbed me. Nothing moaned, screamed, or shot. I sent the beam of light downward, into the belly of the beast before me.
The silhouette of a body caught my breath and held it for ransom. I pressed myself against the wall in a vain attempt to vanish from sight. To my surprise, it worked. Whoever─or whatever─was down there didn’t budge.
For a long time. Too long, in fact.
I splashed the beam in and out of the shadows, only to discover the monster lurking in the depths was actually a mannequin. Another pass of the light nearly had me laughing.
“Sewing machines,” I whispered.
The basement was filled with the tools of the couture trade…and no sign of danger.
I completed the journey downward and took in the spot. Although small, this would be the ideal location to camp out for the night. The walls were thick, so not a bit of sound managed to make its way inside. There were no windows, so no light could escape.
Instead of continuing to snoop, I made my way back up the stairs to retrieve my own personal Scooby Gang.
“We good?” asked Jamal.
I nodded. “We’ll be safe down there for the night.”
Echo and Rizzo descended the stairs, followed by myself and then Jamal. He pulled the basement door shut behind him and said, “I’m going to find a way to secure that door.”
Ever faithful.
“This is so Buffalo Bill,” Rizzo said with an odd fascination. She stood before a full-length mirror and gyrated as Ted Levine had in Silence of the Lambs.
Echo turned to Rizzo and squealed. “OMG! Imagine if we made suits of zombie skin. We could probably walk among the dead and dying like their own kind.”
Rizzo nearly jumped out of her pants. “A zombie gimp suit! I so want one.”
“What’s happening here, Jamal?” I whispered.
Jamal leaned into me. “I believe I’m having a recursive nightmare.”
“The probability of us both suffering the same recursion would be…”
Jamal’s fingers danced before his face to calculate the possibility. “One in twenty-five million.”
I brushed my lips against Jamal’s ear and whispered, “Does that factor in the binomial love theorem?”
“And compensates for hubba-hubba regression.”
The back of my hand met Jamal’s ass. “You think of everything.”
He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”
As my Chuck Taylors hit the basement floor, Rizzo shouted, “Holy shit!”
My hands instinctively reached for a weapon that wasn’t there. Thankfully, Jamal had the same idea. He brought the pistol to bear on the darkness.
I shot my light across the room to see Rizzo standing over a bin.
“You’re not going to believe what I found.” She turned to us, each hand holding a plastic-coated package. “Coke…and I don’t mean of the ‘Real thing’ variety.”
“What in the bloody Sopranos hell is this place?” I asked of no one and everyone.
“If I had to venture a guess,” Jamal started. “I’d say a drug front.”
“And we hit the motherload,” Rizzo’s voice carried a bit too much glee for my liking.
“We’ll be getting rid of every bit of that shit,” I barked.
Rizzo turned sharply to me. “You’re kidding, right, B?”
“I don’t kid about this kind of shit, Riz. Leaving that behind would be a tragic mistake and taking it with us is not an option.”
Rizzo seemed nervous, almost excitable. “Yeah, but if we take it, who knows what we can score in return. People are going to want their fix.”
I shook my head. “No, Riz. This disappears by my hands, completely. The world is already next to impossible to survive. I will not be privy to signing death certificates.”
Rizzo started to complain. I turned and stared at her with laser-sharp eyes. “This is not up for discussion, Rizzo.”
She held up her hands in surrender. “What are we gonna do with the stuff, then? We can’t burn it, otherwise the undead will catch wind of the stink and decide we’re the next items on the buffet. I still think we should at least hide it away. Think about it, Bethany. This could be the only bargaining chip you need against those cenobites.”
“Thelemites,” Jamal corrected. “B, Rizzo has a point.”
The voice of reason stepped in. “We need to get some sleep. What say we let Morpheus fly us off into a much-deserved dreamscape. When we wake in the morning, we’ll deal with the coke and be on our way.”
Rizzo rushed to me and crushed me in a bear of a hug. “I’m so sorry I snapped at you, Bethany.”
I kissed her on the head. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re thinking on your feet. That’ll keep us alive some day.”
Thanks to an overabundance of various types of cloth, we managed to make some fairly comfortable digs for slumber. The second the darkest night I’d seen in a long time hit me, Jamal graced me the sweetest kiss I’d had in a while.
The dusty spell of sleep washed over me.
*
Bethany.
A chorus of voices spoke my name…the tempo of each syllable in perfect unison while the tone shifted with the rapidity of a hell-born choir.
Bethany.
My head was in a fog, spinning in a three hundred and sixty degree circus of dimensions. One second I was in Oz, the next Sin City or Gotham…or maybe lost within the folds of Stephen Hawking’s mind.
When I opened my eyes, a white fog engulfed me─powdery and thick. My nostrils were dry, the flesh burning and sore.
Bethany.
This time the voice was Jacob’s. He called to me from the grave, from the past, from my heart. At the sound, a pattering of tears dropped from my eyes to the ground. Scarlet dots peppered the powder-white floor. I wiped at my nose until the liquid life ceased to flow.
Between my naked feet, the drops of blood spelled my name.
Bethany.
And in the speaking, the letters turned to dust and vanished.
I took in a deep breath to scream, only to choke on the powdery fog. The dust burned as it hit the flesh of my throat. I coughed against it, but quickly succumbed to whatever magic it possessed.
“Bethany,” I said…only not in my own voice, but the voice of the demented chorus. As the word left my mouth, the glistening dust parted to reveal Jacob’s face. He smiled at me. The bullet wound in his forehead oozed thick, crimson blood. He blinked against the rivulets of life.
“We are coming for you, my love. Soon you and I will be one again.” As Jacob spoke, a golden glow rose from behind his eyes and a tongue of flames licked away at the air around his lips. He flesh burned, his hair singed, and his clothing caught fire. “It’s time to die, Bethany, time to put on your war paint.”
I reached out to touch flesh to flesh. Before I could, Jacob burst into a storm of white ash and coated me with his remains. With a single breath, half of Jacob Plummer was sucked through my nose and into my lungs. I coughed and choked against the intrusion.
Bethany.
The cry called out again, only this time changed…softer, concerned.
“Bethany, wake up.”
A muscle-cramping spasm rocked me back into the waking world. The second I saw the dim headlamp lighting Jamal’s sweet face, the tears broke the dams of my eyes. Every muscle in my body danced to a different drummer as sobs shook me to my core. Jamal held me tighter than I’d ever been held. I muffled my cries with the help of his chest.
We didn’t speak…we didn’t have to. Comfort was our language and we spoke it fluently. As Jamal rocked me in his arms, I felt the suffering melt away.
*
“Bethany.”
Not again. I couldn’t take one more nightmarish vision of Jacob Plummer. The idea of his three-eyed face visiting me for another round had me wanting to jam my face into a pile of the White Christmas we’d found.
“Bethany, I have to pee.”
I opened my eyes to see Echo leaning over me,
the strobe-like blinking of my weary eyelids making a ghastly shadow-creature of her face.
“What time is it?”
Echo shrugged. “Time for me to pee.”
“I saw the bathroom upstairs. Are you okay…”
Echo’s eyes bugged and her jaw dropped. “Hell no. You gotta go with me. Please?”
I wearily nodded. “Okay, come on.”
She sent the beam of light up the stairs. I untangled my arms from Jamal. He groaned and rolled over. Silently, Echo and I ascended to the basement door. Jamal had rigged a piece of rebar through two U bolts. The man was a certified black MacGyver. Carefully, I removed his security system and opened the door. The creak was loud enough to wake the living and call forth the dead.
When daylight spilled down the stairs, I realized waking was probably in order anyway.
As soon as we spotted the bathroom, it hit me how full my own bladder was.
And then…my stomach lurched within my torso. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since we’d eaten. The second order of business would be a meal─no matter how small.
After a visit to the ladies room.
I followed Echo in and took my place in the stall next to her.
Echo giggled.
“What?” I asked.
The laughter repeated.
“I farted,” Echo said between titters.
I couldn’t help but join in on the humor. Echo released a belly laugh accompanied by another toilet-echoing toot.
My belly cramped from the lack of food and over-abundance of humor.
The laughter finally died down enough for Echo to speak. “We heading back to HQ soon?”
“That we are, my angel, that we are.”
“Thank God. I’m starving, Bethany.”
“I know. Me too. We’ll find something on the way. I don’t think I can wait that long.”
Echo sighed. “You know what I’d love to have right now? A Coke and some Doritos.”
My stomach punched the inside of my torso. The mere mention of edibles sent my soul into a black spiral of loathing. As I finished up the business at hand, a thought dropped into reality and drove me out of the stall. I hit the door and said to Echo on the way out, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Her whine was sealed tight by the closing of the bathroom door. With daylight shining through the windows, I was able to quickly navigate through the halls of the clothier. This was a business, and businesses had employees. Where there are employees, there’s usually…
“Oh, sweet fucking sugary love of mine,” I nearly shouted.
Standing before me, in what could only be an employee break room, were two vending machines─soda and snacks─both intact. Behind the crystal-clear glass hung, in perfect rank and file, an angelic host of junk food. I wanted, for the first time since fiction gave reality the hand job of its life, to drop to my knees and pray─thank some higher power for finally looking out for those I, in turn, look after.
Instead, I snatched a chair from the floor and prepared to drop the hammer.
“No!” Echo’s voice shouted from behind.
Adrenaline spun me around, my hands and face alive with energy. “What? Why did you stop me?”
Echo ventured near, hands outstretched, and carefully worked the chair from my grasp. “Because, you’ll send glass through some of those snacks. I’ve been breaking into those machines for years. It takes finesse, not force. Let me at it and we’ll walk away with a Halloween’s worth of treats.
I nodded, the rush of energy fading. “I’ll find something to carry the goods in.”
Echo went to work. There was the tiniest part of me that wanted to be schooled in the arts of burgling machines of junk food grace. Sadly, now was not the ideal moment for an education in petty larceny.
It took me no time to locate the means to transport the loot. Hanging on the back of an office door were a backpack and messenger bag. I emptied both onto the floor to find nothing of value. As I stood, my eyes caught sight of a picture on the desk.
A wife. A child.
Across the bottom of the frame, a gentle proclamation of World’s Best Dad melted my heart. A trickle of warmth ran down my cheeks. Before the wave of emotion had a chance to drown me, I stood, picked up the bags, and rushed back to the break room.
Echo sat at a table, her lips smeared with chocolate, an empty snack-sized bag of Doritos already destroyed. Memory tugged at the base of my skull, beckoning me backwards to the last vending machine raid. Jacob, Susan…a single bullet. I fought back another wave of emotion and plopped the bags on the table.
I thrust out an upturned palm. “Hand me something…I don’t care what.”
Echo placed a Snickers bar in my hand. I wasted no time in opening it and shoving half the bar into my mouth. The second my tongue was coated in goo, I thought for sure I’d orgasm then and there. With each chew my spirit soared heavenward.
I lifted my arms. “Yea, tho I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil so long as thou wilt anoint my tongue with chocolate.”
Jamal entered the scene with his usual pep and energy. “What’s up mah…”
The sight cut him short.
Echo and I offered up chocolate-coated grins.
Jamal shook his head. “Bitches be holdin’ out!”
On cue, both Echo and I popped open warm Cokes. At that point, I didn’t care if the bubbly was boiling; the sweet caffeine would hit the spot.
“Hand a brother some love,” Jamal teased. He sat at the table and I slid a pack of M&Ms his way. He tore into the package and popped a handful of the UFO-shaped candies into his mouth. “You know I prefer the ones with peanuts, but these will do.” Jamal leaned back in his chair and tilted his head up. The look of ecstasy on his face was all too familiar.
“We’re bagging this shit up and taking it with us, right?” Jamal asked.
Echo and I took the cue and started stuffing the bags.
Jamal swallowed the last handful of candies. “We should do a sweep to see if there’s anything else worth taking. I’ll grab Rizzo and check the basement.”
“We’ll comb through the rooms up here and see what there is,” I added. “We should get rid of all that nose candy as well. The last thing we need is to add a horde of strung-out zombies to this nightmare.”
*
We finally managed to exit Camp Clothier, weighed down with enough junk food and beverages to feed us for a few days, professional-grade sewing kits, a few yards of water-proofed material, and a fully stocked first-aid kit.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I snatched it out to see Morgan’s name on the screen. I tapped Accept, knowing I was about to get an ear full of mom.
“Bethany? Where in the hell have you been? Why didn’t you call me to tell me you wouldn’t be returning right away? You had me worried sick.”
“We’re okay. I’ll give you the Cliff’s Notes edition of our night when we return.” When I hung up, I felt like shit.
“Oh, come on, B. We’re grown-ups,” Jamal insisted.
“Yeah, we’re grown-ups in the apocalypse. It just so happens our little group’s survival hinges on all of us staying alive. So I was in the wrong for not checking in.”
We walked in silence for a while. It was Rizzo who broke the spell.
“The second Morgan sees a Reese’s cup, she’ll forget all about you not calling. Just sayin’.”
We laughed until the call of death silenced our joy.
ten | the heizer sequence
A rhythmic tapping echoed from the door to Faddig’s private quarters. “Sir,” a muffled voice called from the other side.
Faddig failed to answer. The knock repeated.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
Faddig sat up from his bed with a great sigh. “When is there not a goddamn problem?”
He stood and unceremoniously opened the door. JayLynn stood before him, her eyes round with fear, her mussy hair shattering the frame of her face.
>
“What is it?” Faddig insisted.
JayLynn stood, frozen, her lips tight and delicate knees locked.
Faddig inched closer until he could smell the sweat seeping from her pores. “Speak, or remove yourself from my sight.”
“The Cradled have─” JayLynn swallowed hard. “They’ve abandoned the transport and veered off course. Subject 001 has been in communication and is unsure what to do.”
“What do you mean, they abandoned the transport? There were two soldiers on that truck.”
JayLynn blinked, her eyelids fighting back a waterfall of tears. Faddig had killed the messenger more than once. “Both dead.”
“How?”
“Eaten, sir.”
Faddig slammed a fist against the wall and unleashed a primal tirade against the shivering doctor. When the fury died back, he spoke with a venomous staccato. “Figure out why this happened. If you don’t solve the Cradle soon, I’ll have the next biologist experimenting on you. Now get out of my face!” Faddig shouted.
JayLynn rushed away; the clack of her heels echoed off the iron and steel walls of the train.
Faddig wasted no time in returning to the command center of the mobile headquarters. The second he entered, he unleashed a litany of orders, the first of which was to deploy a troop transport to intercept Gerrand.
“I want that goddamn biologist now,” Faddig hissed.
The lead dispatcher barked orders into a radio. Over the tinny speaker, the receiving soldier confirmed the command.
“They’ll be on their way in twenty, sir.”
Faddig snapped his attention to the dispatcher. “I want that transport monitored at all times. Do not let them out of your sight. If you lose them, you’ll lose your head. Is that clear?”
Before anyone had the chance to reply, Faddig exited the command center. He marched down the hall with fire and purpose. His jaws flexed and his lungs drew in hungry breaths.
