by Jamie Marks
Kathy shut her eyes and fought back her own tears. Much to her own surprise, she believed Susan’s story. Maybe both Tyler and Susan were telling the truth, only it’s from their own perception of what the truth actually was. Kathy wasn’t going to judge either of them; they needed all the hands they could get.
Susan stood up and ran her fingers through her hair. “Where’s the bathroom?” she asked. “I must appear an awful mess.”
When Susan saw herself in a mirror, she was pleasantly surprised by how good she did look.
She ran her hand down to her waist and felt for her gun. She then hurriedly checked her cell phone’s reception and battery.
All was good, but there was still no signal.
She was in with a fighting chance anyway.
TURNER FIELD
OUTSIDE THE BUNKER
Harris and Gibson shook each other’s hands warmly, while behind Gibson stood two men, almost identical in appearance wearing military fatigues, but neither man wore any form of unit identification markings or an insignia of rank.
“Ambrose,” Gibson said, stepping toward him.
Ambrose held out his hand for the obligatory handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gibson, can I get that for you?” He was referring to the leather satchel Gibson was carrying.
Martin Gibson was the new head of Homeland Security; or what there remained of it. He was a small wiry man with straw hair and sharp smile. He walked fast and spoke very little. He was nothing like his predecessor, Kurt Schwartz, a large and now dead dolt, Ambrose thought. Gibson was smarter, more thoughtful, a more elegant man overall.
Both men had soft hands, and their handshake was akin to velvet.
“Thank you,” Gibson said in reply before his eyes shifted back to Harris who was standing nearby.
“The President wishes to see you straight away,” Harris said to Gibson.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting the man of the hour,” Gibson reciprocated.
Harris laughed.
Ambrose said nothing.
The three men made their way to the waiting golf cart, leaving the two unmarked men behind.
Ambrose climbed in behind the wheel and the electric-powered buggy lurched into motion.
“I’ve been hearing good things about you,” Gibson said.
Ambrose thought he was talking to him but wasn’t sure.
“You’re rare commodity in this business, Cornelius, honest and brave.”
“Honesty is its own form of bravery, sir,” Ambrose answered as he heard Harris’s chuckle in the background.
“I can’t argue with that,” Gibson said, “everything that is truly meaningful always comes at a cost. However, by now you’re already aware of that.”
The sounds of firing .50 Caliber machine guns emanated from outside Turner Field.
Its bark was heavy and threatening, and even more so in the coming darkness.
Ambrose continued driving; he didn’t look back.
“How do you mean, sir?” he asked.
“It’s one thing to enter our business with ideals, but it’s another to adhere to them.”
Once they had arrived at their destination, Ambrose reversed their buggy into a waiting space where a young enlisted man plugged it back into the power source.
After being screened for contagions, the three men entered the bunker proper and made their way toward the President’s Command Centre --- PCC.
As they walked through the corridors ignoring everybody, Harris and Gibson conversed between themselves. Ambrose couldn’t quite hear what either man was saying as he followed behind, even though he listened as carefully as he could, something about Satellites; Satellites?
At one point, Gibson pivoted and looked directly at him.
His face was expressionless, and his eyes told Ambrose nothing.
Moments later, he unexpectedly grinned at Ambrose and then turned his attention back to Harris. The closer they got to the PCC, the more rapid their conversation seemed to progress.
At the last security checkpoint to the PCC, stood two impressively dressed marines, their eyes quickly scanning the IDs handed to them. They then ran the IDs through a swipe and offered them back before opening the door.
Harris and Gibson passed through while Ambrose waited; he wanted to go back, he wanted to leave.
“You’re coming, aren’t you?” Harris said.
Ambrose stalled. “I feel like some air. I might go back outside.”
“You don’t look well,” Gibson answered, instead of Harris.
“I don’t feel well.”
Gibson touched his shoulder. “Well, you better come with me then. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”
Ambrose didn’t want to go.
“I insist,” Gibson said.
FOREST PARK
Steve waited for his turn to climb up to the roof.
His mind kept ticking like a clock going in circles; he didn’t believe Susan for an instant, and felt surprised when Kathy admitted that she now had some doubts about Tyler’s version of events.
He listened to what Kathy said in Susan’s defense, but it just didn’t add up.
Unfortunately, Steve couldn’t confide in either Tyler or Cook, in fear of creating a feeling of distrust.
There was no reason for Cook to lie or to embellish anyone’s story, but there was no reason for him to distrust his wife’s impression of what had happened, according to Susan before they had all met.
Something simply didn’t ring true. Charlie’s actions in Susan’s account surprised him. From what Steve had found out about Charlie, it just didn’t seem accurate. He couldn’t picture the man who Tyler spoke about being so brave toward the end, even to save a woman he thought he loved, a woman who Cook said scorned and ridiculed him at every turn.
Even if he had done, what he did out of love for Susan...
It still didn’t ring right. The only other option was...
It was that Susan was just plain lying.
And if you tell a big enough lie, you can create your own truth.
Steve was the last person to enter the manhole for the climb to the roof.
Looking up, he saw the twilight sky as it came into view, until ---
Susan? Her face, silhouetted against the sky. For a moment, Steve froze, because he knew, knew the truth.
Susan reached toward him. “Grab it,” she said, offering her hand. “It’s harder to get up here than it looks, especially for big boys like you.”
Steve didn’t take her hand. “I’ll be fine,” he said
“I insist,” she replied, “we’re a team now.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
Susan withdrew her hand slowly and smiled.
She’s fucking creepy, Steve thought.
Tyler wandered to the roof’s edge and searched the street below. He then turned toward Steve and Cook, offering them both a wink. “Welcome to Abby Road Studios,” he said.
Steve didn’t laugh.
Cook was tempted to, but the groans coming from below had sent his funny bone awry.
Tyler stepped carefully back from the edge.
“The plan is simple; we move as cautiously as possible toward the firehouse until we need to climb down and make a run ---”
“What if we can’t get into the firehouse?” Susan interrupted.
“Cook has the key code to get inside,” Tyler answered.
“What makes you think there’s power inside?” Susan interjected once more, but this time directing her question at Cook.
“The firehouse has an emergency power backup for powerouts during major storms. If the main is cut, the automatic system kicks in, alternating between the recharge batteries and the generator. The system can run independent for several weeks. The batteries have a twenty-four-hour run time. When the cycle reaches twenty hours, the generator runs to recharge the power cells and then cuts off to conserve fuel. Providing the generator was fully fueled when this began, there will be no
trouble with us gaining access or power.”
“You can’t guarantee that though,” Susan said.
“How about we all just stay here then,” Steve said.
Susan glared at him.
“Maybe that would be safer. We have food and bottled water; we have everything we need here. I don’t understand this need to take risks!” Susan said.
“We decided on the plan earlier, Susan,” said Kathy.
“I didn’t decide.”
“We all did though,” Kathy answered her.
“We all did, implies I did, and I didn’t. In fact, I haven’t been asked my opinion.”
“I think we understand your opinion,” Steve said.
“Was I talking to you, chunks?” Susan said.
“Hey, watch what you’re saying,” Kathy answered her.
“I’m just doing my job, Kathy. I ask questions and sometimes people don’t like it.”
“You’re not a reporter now,” Kathy said.
“What makes the firehouse any safer?” Susan said. “And do you always feel the need to go along with the pack, Kathy?”
Susan wanted to shut her mouth, but she couldn’t help herself.
“What?”
“You heard what I said.”
Shut up! she thought to herself.
“Maybe Tyler is right, Susan, you do have a screw loose.”
“What disappoints me the most, Kathy, is I thought we had become really close friends.”
“We’ve only just met. I’ve barely known you for a few hours, Susan.”
“You’re just like the rest of them,” Susan said, “You know you won’t be any safer there. Those things will kill you. You wait and see.”
“We will be safer there because the firehouse gives us access to power and communications, and most of all, if things continue to get worse, and we can’t get help or escape, it also has a working bunker,” Cook said.
Kathy spun around. “A bunker?”
“Tyler, Cook and I thought that if we failed to communicate with anyone, we could use the bunker for a while. At least until things cool down and then we could leave town,” Steve said.
“When were you going to talk to me about this, Steve? I thought we were going to try to get out of town ASAP?”
“The original plan still stands; it just depends on how many of those things are about. We’ve been talking, Tyler, Cook and I, and we’ve all come to the same conclusion that there’s more of those things about than we first thought. Remember when we attempted to leave town, they were everywhere.”
“See, Kathy, they’re hiding the truth from you too,” Susan said.
“Can it really be that dangerous, Steve? You know what happened at the house, you know that if you sit in one place, they’ll come. They’ll sniff you out,” Kathy said, disregarding Susan.
“I think it might be that dangerous,” Tyler answered her. “And if you don’t think so, then think about this, why haven’t we heard or seen one other person? Where is everyone? I haven’t heard a car or gunshot for a long while now. There’s a decent chance we’re alone in this place. We might be the only people still alive in a town of twenty-five thousand, and that decreases our chance of rescue, because if it’s this bad in Forest Park, it must be devastating everywhere else. The bunker is a valid option, a fall-back option if need be.”
“Liars,” Susan said.
“How big is this bunker?” Kathy asked.
“Big enough for us, and to help others, if there is any,” Cook said.
“Great plan. We already have limited resources, and you’re going to send for more people? You actually think you’re going to help anyone? Get serious. If that’s the reason we’re leaving here, then let’s can it. The other losers out there can help themselves, this is about survival!” Susan said.
“Susan, please be quiet,” Kathy asked.
“I’m doing my job.”
“No you’re not, you’re being difficult. If that is your job, then you’re the fucking CEO of the company!” Kathy said. “Just let the man talk.”
“They built the bunker during the cold war. It’s an old civil defense bunker,” Cook said.
Kathy nodded. “Okay then.”
“Sorry, I should have told you, honey,” Steve said.
“Yes, you should have; we’re all in this together, we can’t have secrets.”
“If you could only listen to yourselves,” Susan said.
SMASH! The front window of the grocery store caved in below.
“I think it’s time we left,” Tyler said.
“You don’t think they’ll get up here?” Steve asked.
“These things have a knack of doing what you least expect of them. I doubt that they’ll get up here though, but we’ll be long gone anyhow,” Tyler answered.
“Are we all agreed on what we’re doing now?” Tyler asked everyone.
“It appears to me that I don’t have a choice,” Susan said.
“There’s always a choice, Susan. Don’t ever doubt it,” Tyler said, walking away from her.
ROOFTOP CHALLENGE
Tyler stood surveying the journey ahead with a length of rope lashed to his body, a prize from the grocery store’s limited stockroom. Standing alongside Tyler was Steve, who held their only weapon, a bloodstained baseball bat. With no firearms and limited resources, they both knew the passage forward was going to be arduous.
“Are you ready?” Tyler asked Steve.
“No...”
“Neither am I,” Tyler responded.
Tyler stepped over the three-foot tall partition, which separated the neighboring building with the grocery store’s roof. Setting his foot down on some highset corrugated iron, he adjusted his feet sideways to allow himself to stand properly.
“Watch your step, there’re a number of cables running along the side,” Tyler said as Cook followed him over the wall.
In the dark, the low running cables were close to invisible.
The roof creaked and groaned with each footfall the men made. “It doesn’t feel too safe,” Cook said.
“Safer than down there,” said Tyler.
“Point taken,” Cook answered. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll go,” Kathy said, as Cook immediately reached out his hand to help her over the low-set partition.
“Be careful and watch your step.”
Kathy looked nervous, but resolute.
Cook then held out his hand for Susan.
Susan smacked it away. “I’m not a child. I’m perfectly capable of ---” And then she fell and landed awkwardly on her arm.
Tyler spun around and saw Susan lying on the corrugated roof and then looked away.
“Are you okay?” Cook asked her.
After she got to her feet, Susan said, “Does it look like I’m fine?”
“It’s hard to know in the dark,” he said.
“We need to keep moving ---” Tyler was saying until he unexpectedly heard a shuffling sound down below.
Tyler hunkered down while the others looked at him with bewildered expressions. Signaling with his right hand, he attempted to communicate with the group to get low to the ground.
“What is it?” Cook asked, his voice at a whisper.
“Don’t know.”
Tyler flicked on his flashlight and scanned the remaining roof ahead of the group. He crept forward to the next partition which was much higher than the first, around five to six feet in total, and raised his flashlight to head height, but a row of potted trees which formed part of a small rooftop garden obscured much of the what there was to see.
Placing the flashlight on the wall, Tyler raised himself up so he could have a better view. To his right was a wicker table and chairs surrounded by a few other smaller potted shrubs and flowers, while to his left was the roof’s access door.
It was open.
“Is there something over there?” Cook asked Tyler.
“Maybe, there’s an open door, and I think I can see blood upon the gr
ound,” he answered.
“I can’t see anything,” Steve said as he peered over the wall. “Are you sure it’s blood?”
Tyler shrugged; he didn’t know if it was.
“I can’t see a body or any of those, things,” Tyler quickly added.
“It still doesn’t mean there’s nothing there,” Cook answered him. “Best to run with your first instinct.”
Tyler shined his flashlight toward the open door --- there was nothing.
He then heard the sound once more; it was a scrape, not a shuffle.
It sounded close.
“Shine the light on the doorway again,” Steve said.
The light flashed over the open door once more.
“There could be something in the stairwell, and if we shut the door, we could trap it, it would save time,” Tyler said.
“If there is one over there, there’s probably is another. It takes one to bite one,” Cook said.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“I’ll go first,” Steve said.
“No, I’ll go first, I’m already on the wall anyhow,” Tyler answered him.
“I’ll come with you then,” said Steve.
“How about you take the flashlight and pass me the bat once I’m over. Then you follow me.”
“Is everything all right?” Kathy asked.
“Yeah, honey.”
“You’re sure?”
“No,” Tyler said answering for Steve, “but this is our first obstacle, and we have to keep moving. We can’t stop at every sound,” Tyler answered as he plunged down, disappearing from sight.
The legless thing was lying on the roof, close to the wall and hidden in the shadows.
As Tyler landed, one of his boots crushed the Dead thing’s chest cavity with a loud crack. It sounded like the snapping of a dry branch.
Tyler’s other boot landed on the forehead of the dead man whose rotten flesh slid from its skull, taking Tyler’s boot with it. The sudden slip spread his legs apart, and a sharp pain erupted from his groin. Tyler then tried to reach back to the wall to regain his balance, but it was too late. He fell to the ground with a thud.
Steve, with Cook’s help, boosted himself on top of the wall.
