The APOCs Virus

by Alex Myers

  It was the members of the Hampton Police and not the National Guardsmen as thought, that gave Bill problems.

  "It's my city, dammit! It's my responsibility!" Police Captain George Murphy nearly screamed. Spittle punctuated every syllable flying into the air and gathering at the corners of his mouth. Bill thought he looked rabid.

  "But you can't move at them yet," Bill pleaded.

  "And why not?" he asked, putting his big mallet-type hands on his hips.

  "Well, for one thing they haven't broken the law yet."

  "It's just a matter of time." His sausage-like finger was just inches from Bill's face. "Plus what about all the hell they've raised on your side of the water?"

  "Listen, I'm acting upon direct orders from Governor Wilder and the state's Attorney General office. Unless we have solid evidence that one of the Apocs here today, is directly responsible for a crime, then we are just to observe."

  "Observe, my ass! People, innocent people are going to die here. It's my job to make sure that that doesn't happen."

  "Believe me, its mine also. But it's also my intention to make sure if we do make a move against them we have proper and just cause. As hard as it is to comprehend, there are people that are on the Apocs side—like the Civil Liberties Union." Bill paused to see if this was getting through to the Captain. He understood how the man felt.

  "It's just," Captain Murphy said, taking off his hat and wiping his brow with his shirtsleeve, "it's just my teenage son is going to be here tonight with some of his friends." He turned away from Bill and stared off in the direction of the Apocs.

  "I'm sorry. I had no idea." Bill said.

  "Yeah, that's all right, the boy and I had a big fight about it this morning before I left the house. One thing led to another and I ended up hitting the kid. Last thing he said before he left and slammed the door was that he'd see me here tonight."

  The captain turned away from Bill and he saw a hand go up to his face. Bill couldn't tell if he was crying or just wiping his nose. Nothing in the man's voice hinted at either. Bill advanced one step behind him and said; "I'll assure you this: ‘On the touchstone of misfortune a man discovers the strength of understanding and of spirit in kinsmen, wife, children and himself’. I promise you, at the first sign of any trouble we'll go at them with guns blazing and ask questions later."

  Bill heard the man chuckle. The captain turned to face him. His eyes were glassy, but Bill still didn't know if he'd been crying. The captain had a grin on his face. "I heard that you did that, but I guess it still caught me by surprise."

  "What's that?" Bill asked.

  "People always said you were quoting some dead philosopher or another. You're alright, McCullough. I guess us Irish cops got to stick together."

  Bill was Scottish, but he was going to be Irish today. The captain adjusted his hat and went off to where his men formed a separate group. Bill took the minor victory in stride as he looked with trepidation at the GCG congregation and then over at the Apocs. The air was thick with humidity. There definitely was a storm brewing.

  CHAPTER 27

  THE TV SETUP

  Abaddon spoke in his richest tones and smiled his most charming smiles for the GCG news reporter. Instead of looking repulsive, several coats of make up (thanks to Nattie Pigott), merely made him look haggard. The female reporter was starting to feel at ease. He wasn't some 'beast' as some of her colleagues had warned. The interview was going well. Considering she was scooping the networks with this live shot it made things almost too good.

  ". . .So as you can see, we're just ordinary people like you and the fine folks at home." Abaddon said. "There's just one difference and that is we have a virus. It's a sickness, that's all. And here, tonight, I'll prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was a sickness devised by our own government."

  The people gathered next to the bus, including the reporter, were taken aback by this bombshell. Even though the interview was more than she'd hoped for, she was sent in specifically to get footage of Abaddon claiming to be the Antichrist.

  "Despite the fact that this is a state-sponsored tragedy," Abaddon said, adjusting the turtleneck that concealed the layers of gray molted skin, "has no bearing on the fact I am the son of the Dark One. And where better to announce this juicy bit of news than at the concert of the band that honors my father." He smiled intimately into the camera.

  She had it! Not only did he make allegations of being the harbinger of the apocalypse, but also connected himself to the band. She'd have that network job before the night was over. Then she'd get as far away from these religious kooks as possible.

  "Mr.‑‑ah‑‑may I call you Abaddon?" Cathy Cole asked. She thought even her name sounded "network".

  "Abaddon would be fine."

  "Abaddon, are you aware that the Reverend Ira Swanson is going to be here tonight in person? He is going to make a special appeal for your soul."

  This brought an even bigger grin to Abaddon's face. "Let whomever come. But after tonight, all the world will know my name for what it truly means—MASTER." His laughter sounded like Vincent Price at the end of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.”. It was drawn-out and sinister as it faded to the studio anchors.

  "Thank you for the interview," Cathy Cole said, taking off her lavalier microphone.

  Abaddon's TV-face had disappeared. He now looked menacing and venomous. "Tell Reverend Ira-assfuck, if he's not here by seven, the Deal’s off."

  CHAPTER 28

  NATTIE AND HENRY

  Henry and Tom now congruously mingled with the crowd. Even with everything that was going on Henry still gave Tom praise for his good behavior. The lumbering child was just that—what you saw is what you got. There were no secrets with Tom, no deceptions, just brutal honesty. Tom looked as if his mind was always hard at work; it just operated on a different level. He didn't speak unless spoken to—he was too busy soaking in the sights and sounds of thousands of people. They were traits Henry could appreciate.

  They lingered just inside the group nearest the Apocs. Hundreds of Apocs were located around the front steps of the bus nearly filling the small circle that the trucks created. Henry could see Abaddon on the bottom step giving what looked like a pep talk before the big game. The Apocs were unusually quiet and Henry thought if he was giving a pep talk it had to be in sign language. All walks of life were in that throng of virus-stricken people and Nattie Pigott was in the front of the bus looking in Henry's direction. They began to disperse heading to the front of the coliseum where most of the press had already set up and were waiting.

  Nattie lingered behind.

  Henry gave a wide berth to the wretched guards that were left behind to protect the trucks. Nattie was walking in his direction. She was too far away and her face too pale for Henry to gauge her reaction.

  There two guards between Henry and where Nattie stood on the opposite side of the truck wagon train. One guard wore yellow surfer shorts and a dirty Batman T‑shirt and the other a Pepsi delivery uniform. Both guards were looking in the opposite direction at Nattie.

  “Tom, my boy.”

  “That’s the same way Miss Nattie calls me her boy.”

  “Tommy, see that guard up there in the yellow shorts and the guard next to him in the blue? Go get their attention. Take them on the other side of that big red truck over there and keep them there. Now hurry Tommy.”

  Tom took off in a trot and never saw Nattie’s approach. Tom got to back of the truck and yelled something to the two guards, who left their post and went over to investigate.

  Henry got to within fifty feet of his wife and called out to her. "Nattie, Nattie honey, it's me!"

  She raised her head, acknowledged his bluster, put her head back down and continued to walk toward him.

  "It's me, Nattie, Henry!" he said as he started to run.

  As he got to within five feet of her, she raised her head, looked him straight in the eye and stopped him dead. "I know who you are.” She said, her eyes blazing yellow an
d her nostrils flaring. Henry stared at her and noticed the way she was different.

  They stood without touching. He wanted desperately to reach out and pull her in, but she exuded disgust and rancor. Three feet away but it could have been miles. Her clothes were different and she looked like she had lost weight. Henry had noticed two distinct characteristics of people with the virus, some appeared hard and scaly and others, like Nattie, looked pale and bloated.

  She looked twenty years younger, but she looked like she had been underwater to get that way, Henry thought. "What's wrong darling? What has he done to you?"

  "He's given me my life back."

  "But you already have a life. We have a life together." He wanted to touch her, to sweep her into his arms, but he couldn't. He was afraid of her. And on top of it all his ears were buzzing just as he had heard that cop say.

  "Oh Henry," she said, her face finally showing some emotion, "that wasn't a life. That was a prison sentence. All I was doing was waiting to die. Abaddon has given me hope. He's made me young again. Can't you hear him calling out to you? It's real soft, like chimes in the wind." Her eyes were faraway, dreamy.

  "Nattie, I ain't gonna listen to no more of this nonsense. I've got to get you away from here." He grabbed her arm.

  She hissed and flashed her teeth. "Can't you see! Even if I could—I don't want to go with you. The only reason I'm seeing you now is out of obligation to something that once was. I thought if you could see how happy I am, maybe you would stay with me, with us."

  "For god’s sake—"

  "THERE IS NO GOD! You call upon your god and he doesn't ever listen. You call to Abaddon, even without speaking a word, and he is there for you."

  "Abaddon is for shit!"

  "It was okay to doubt before tonight, but after tonight you shall see—the whole world will see."

  "Well, I've got a little surprise cooked up for your chum, Abaddon. I'll see tonight, alright. I'll see him in about a million tiny pieces all across this parking lot."

  "I can't let you do that Henry." She grabbed his neck in her now powerful hand and squeezed. "You're either with us or against us."

  Her grip was powerful, not the grip of an arthritic old woman, but more like the grip of a madman. Henry gathered up his newly-acquired strength and pushed her arm away. She rushed at him, teeth and long nails ready to gouge. He stepped aside and pushed her to the pavement. "Then I guess I'll have to be against you. And now if you'll pardon me, I have retribution to dole out." Henry said.

  "I can't let you do that, Henry!" She screamed from the ground.

  "Nattie, honey, I wish with all my heart it didn't have to be like this. You've pushed me into a corner. I just don't see how I've got any choice."

  "I'll send Abaddon after you!"

  Henry walked away without looking back.

  Around the truck and the two guards were lying dead and mangled at Tom’s feet.

  He looked ashamed. “I’m sorry Mr. Henry, they were very mean men.”

  “I’m sure you did what you had to do. Now Tom, we've got to work fast. Do you remember the plan we talked about?" Henry asked as he took out the shoulder-slung duffel bag from the back seat of the car.

  "I remember. You said Mrs. Nattie would be with us, though. Didn't you get to talk to Mrs. Nattie?"

  "Sure I did."

  "Did you tell her that her boy Tom was here?"

  "I sure did and she's excited too."

  "Well?"

  "Well what, Tom?"

  "Well why didn't she come back with you like you said?"

  "Ah . . . she went to tell Abaddon goodbye and to—to get her things."

  "Was she happy?"

  "Oh yeah, we hugged and kissed."

  "No Mr. Henry, I meant to see me, her boy Tom."

  Henry had to smile. "She was indeed, yes indeed. Now Tom, are you sure you remember what to do now, because this is where we go different ways."

  CHAPTER 29

  THE BACK OF THE BUS

  "But, where are you going, Lieutenant?"

  "I figure while big mouth is over there scaring the be-jesus out of a couple of million people glued to their television sets, I'll just slip over and see what's going on at the Apoc truck stop." Bill pulled out his .45 checked the chamber and then replaced it in its holster.

  "Do you want me and a couple of my boys to come over with you?" Captain Murphy asked.

  "Nah, but I am starting to get a little nervous with all these people here. Will you put a squad of men over with the holy-rollers, and another on the Apocs at the entranceway?" Bill paused as off in the distance a thundercloud rumbled. "The best thing that could happen here is a gully-washer, but somehow I don't think we'll get that lucky. Have the rest of the men disperse to their predefined posts. I'm going to go do a little eyeballing around over there."

  An out-of-breath Hampton police officer came running.

  "Captain Murphy, sir, look over there." The officer said. Bill and Murphy followed the man's nod toward the back of the coliseum. "Do you want us to find out what he has in the bag?"

  Murphy looked to Bill for the answer.

  "Was it a Apoc?" Bill asked.

  "I'm not sure sir, he was too far away to tell."

  "Just make sure he doesn't double back and get to where they have the cameras set up out front." Bill said.

  "I'll make certain of it." the officer said and left.

  "Captain, take care of things while I'm gone. You might want to take a few of my men—say about twenty or so—and about the same of your men and the army boys and head over to the trucks." Bill said.

  "What do you want us to do when we get there?"

  "I'm not sure. Just get those Apoc’s attention. I need them to forget about that bus." Bill walked over, opened the trunk of his squad car, and took out a large knife. He slid the sheath onto his belt and taped the loose end to his leg. "Here, hold on to these for me would ya?" Bill tossed the car keys to Murphy. He duct-taped the end of his holster to his other leg.

  "Looks like you've done this kind of work before lieutenant. Need any help?"

  "I hope not. If all goes as planned, I'll be in and out of there in no time. Just diverting their attention by being there should help." He sat on the edge of the trunk and took off his shoes. Next out of the bag he pulled out black nylon hiking boots. After tying the laces and tucking in his pant legs, he wound a layer of tape around his ankles. Next, he removed his shirt, put on a black sweatshirt and taped the wrists.

  "You can do one thing. You can have one of your men drive me around to the back entrance—where the band goes in."

  The sky was now completely filled with clouds and shadows were growing as night began to materialize.

  "Lieutenant McCullough, just one more thing before you go."

  "What's up?"

  "I‑‑ah‑‑just want to say‑‑ah—be careful."

  "Captain, I'm never careful," he patted the big gun on his hip, "just deadly. If I'm not back in a few days just assume I'm a Apoc."

  "Go on, get outta here!"

  And he did.

  Henry left the crowded walkway and circled to the trucks from the backside of the coliseum. He carried the unwieldy duffle-bag slung over his shoulder. From behind a cement ridge he could see Tom ambling toward two other guards at the center of the Apoc truck-circle. He hadn't been sure what their reaction to the big man was going to be, so he had drilled Tom on both contingencies. As he approached, a third guard joined the trio. He saw Tom put an arm around the shoulders of two of the guards and lead them to the edge of the circle created by the trucks. They looked as if they were buying the story they he had been on special assignment from Abaddon to keep an eye on Henry. With their attention diverted, Henry crept from his hiding spot and slipped into the door of the Abaddon’s tour bus.

  Bill peered around the back of the tour bus; the guards that had been posted to watch it were away from their posts and gathered to the far side of the enclosure. He could see four of them: two of m
edium build and dressed in dirty jeans and black t‑shirts, one skinny and dressed like a Goth, and the fourth was simply enormous. All were Apocs.

  The big Apoc was pushing the little Goth Apoc while the other two watched. There was some kind of argument taking place and he strained to hear what it was about. I wish Ethan and those big ears of his were here, Bill thought. Forget his ears, I just wish he were here.

  Bill moved to the front of the bus. He crawled under it using the tires to shield him from being seen. The big Apoc had pushed the surfer to the ground and had a foot in the middle of his chest. The other two Apocs had obviously decided that they better step in and had a hold of the giant's arms trying to move him off the little one. Bill reached up and opened the door to the bus. The fighting of four Apocs escalated and created the perfect diversion for Bill, he got up slowly and climbed the steps. He saw more Apoc guards from the perimeter rush to the fracas as he judiciously closed the door behind him. He unsheathed the fourteen-inch blade taped to his side and wedged it between the bottom step and the middle of the door jamming it closed.

  That ought to buy me a little time, Bill thought. He got up and moved into the bus's dark heart.

  "One at a time," Abaddon said as the press closed in for the kill. He was definitely the man of the hour, all this had been so worth it. Every news source in the world and beyond was there to hear his story. And what a story I have to tell.

  "I'm saving the declaration until the Reverend Ira arrives!" He yelled to be heard over the cacophony of the shoving crowd.

  Where is Swanson? Abaddon seethed, he should have been here over an hour ago. Tonight I'm the star, tonight across America—what am I saying? Tonight, AROUND THE WORLD people will remember my name. And I won't need that two-bit shyster preacher either. Not only will the Apocs know who their true leader is, but also people and soon-to-be-Apocs will fear my wrath.