Phoenix Protocol- the Middletown Omnibus

by Brent Abell

  The gun bucked in her hand, and a small flame shot out the barrel. A small hole appeared in Markus Franke’s forehead, and half of his head blew out of the back. Victoria watched with growing satisfaction as Markus’s milky white eyes faded and turned dark. His body toppled over to the ground and didn’t move. She stood over the body and waited for Markus to twitch, but his corpse remained still.

  “Okay, let’s go. We don’t have much time to get out of here,” Harris said. He grabbed Victoria’s arm and tugged at her.

  “You fucking killed him, too,” she whispered. In a moment of clarity, she realized how much power in the Phoenix affair Harris wielded. The order to destroy Middletown had to have his approval.

  “What?” Harris asked. The sounds from the helicopter's rotors drowned out her voice.

  “Nothing,” she replied and reached down to grab the sample.

  Harris led Victoria to the helicopter and helped her on board.

  Once in, he motioned to the pilots, and the rotors began to move faster as they lifted off from the roof.

  In the air, Victoria looked down at the end of the world. Guilt filled her and looked over at the general. Something akin to glee shined in his eyes, and a smile crossed his lips as he looked below. She knew the city wouldn’t survive. Manhattan only had a limited time left.

  It was another town and another wave of death that the Phoenix’s wake left behind.

  She held the case with the samples closer to her.

  It has to stop someplace, she thought.

  As the helicopter headed to the secret military installation called The Center, she thought about how all those responsible would pay for what they’ve done.

  ***

  Click…

  We interrupt the regularly scheduled program for this breaking news. A massive explosion tore through mid-town Manhattan this evening, and the destruction has been described by eye-witness report as being biblical in proportion. The U.S. military has already sent troops in with radiation suits to determine if a dirty bomb exploded or what caused the blast. Since terrorism is suspected, the DHS has blocked all exits and entrances into the city. Marshall Law is also being declared as the governor has activated the National Guard to oversee…

  Click…

  Phoenix Burning

  Click…

  We interrupt the regularly scheduled program for this breaking news. A massive explosion tore through mid-town Manhattan this evening, and the destruction has been described by eye-witness report as being biblical in proportion. The U.S. military has already sent troops in with radiation suits to determine if a dirty bomb exploded or what caused the blast. Since terrorism is suspected, the DHS has blocked all exits and entrances into the city. Marshall Law is also being declared as the governor has activated the National Guard to oversee…

  Click…

  1

  Before the Show:

  T-Minus Two Hours to Ground Zero

  Jordy Bottoms jumped when the man with the bloody face smacked into the back limo window. The face hit the glass, and a mix of blood and drool splattered across the tinted glass. Jordy felt the woman in his lap grind her teeth when he buckled, and he winced in pain. He covered his mouth to stifle the scream, trying to escape. He didn’t want to ruin what he had going on with Candy. When you were only the stage manager for one of the biggest bands in the world, you were still only the stage manager and didn’t have chicks throwing themselves at you. They kidded him all the time and told him the bass tech had a better shot at scoring girls backstage than he did. Candy didn’t care; he was only FLXS’s stage manager. She had her sights set on backstage after the show, and Jordy knew she was using him for a pass and a chance to party with the band.

  Being used felt pretty fucking good, though.

  Candy’s head kept up the rhythm without interruption while Jordy stared out the window. People rushed around, and he heard some screaming. A man stood in horror as a woman jumped on his back and began chewing on his neck. Blood sprayed out from his opened throat, and he thrashed about trying to throw the attacker from his back. She held tight and lapped up the crimson rain showering her face. The man dropped to his knees and toppled over. His body thrashed and fell still. Jordy gasped in an odd mix of revolution and ecstasy. Candy kept going, and Jordy froze when the dead man stirred on the ground. He bolted up and rushed the car. Jordy hit the window like the last asshole and pounded on the tinted glass until his fists became bloody hunks of meat. A pinkish form frothed around his mouth, and he snapped his teeth at the car, trying to find a way inside.

  Candy lifted her head from Jordy’s retreating member. “What the fuck? I better still get a backstage pass,” she huffed. The man outside the car pounded on the glass again, and she looked up. Yelping, she moved away from the door and cowered on the other side of the limo.

  “Yeah, try keeping it up with that shit going on,” Jordy quipped.

  Candy gathered up some courage and took a peek outside the limo’s sheltered world. The city appeared to be a vision of Hell. People rushed about with blood on their clothes and smeared around their mouths. Meat hung from ruined lips, and people were jumping on each other and tearing into their throats. It reminded her of something she’d seen on a late-night horror movie.

  Traffic began to move, and Jordy knocked on the black glass partition wildly. “Get us to the arena!”

  The partition rolled down, and the driver gave him the finger. “I’ll get there on time, bitch.”

  “Hey, don’t you know who I am?” Jordy spat.

  “Yeah, an entitled washed-up manager for a band who deserves someone better,” the driver retorted.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Dude, I’m a Punk Ass Punk fan, and your boys ain’t nothing but posers,” the driver stated.

  If only you knew about those assholes, Jordy thought.

  “Look, sorry. I’m really on probation, and I can’t get in trouble again. I’ll get you there double-time if we can keep this between us. Oh, Howie is the name,” the driver introduced himself.

  “Okay, we’re good, Howie.”

  “Can we get away from these freaks?” Candy asked and moved from the floorboard to the seat across from Jordy. “I still get my pass?”

  Jordy looked at the girl and shook his head. “Yes, you’ll get your fucking pass. I hope you enjoy being disappointed by your heroes.”

  “Fuck you,” Candy said as the limo shifted and took off away from the madness engulfing mid-town Manhattan.

  ***

  The green room was silent except for the chants from the crowd reaching their ears. Each band member sat in their pre-concert ritual of meditation. Jon looked up first and cleared his throat as he grabbed his bottle of warm honey water and took a small drink. After gurgling it and sloshing around in his mouth, Jon spit it into the trash can next to him. Bob twirled his drum sticks and nodded his head to a beat only he heard in his head. Jenny flexed her fingers and played a few chords on an air guitar while Lars pretended to slap on invisible bass strings.

  FLXS began to come to life.

  “I can’t wait for this tour to be over with,” Jenny huffed as she stood up.

  “Come on, baby, we have a few weeks left, and then we can hit Cancun for a couple of weeks or months to recuperate,” Jon replied.

  “You two make me fucking sick,” Lars added.

  Jon turned to the bass player and laughed. “Lars, that sounds like a shitty drummer’s name.”

  Lars laughed back. “Now, I’m really gonna kick your ass.”

  “Well, it doesn’t help you’re the fucking bassist. The bassist named liked a drummer, shit man, your love life must be non-fucking-existent,” Jon chided back.

  Bob raised his hands to the smoke-stained ceiling tiles and whistled. “Guys, the time of the Stigmata is at hand. Let’s rock this shit out.”

  “Bob, why do you take the tour name so seriously?” Jenny asked.

  “I’m fucking Catholic, that’s why.”

 
; “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re the only one of us who isn’t a god-damned heathen,” Jenny prodded back.

  “When this tour is finished, I’m over and done,” Bob said.

  “Wait, you’re leaving?” Lars added.

  Bob shook his head. “I can’t stay in this shit. It’s been a hell of a ride, but I’m tired. I miss my wife and my kids.”

  “But dude, the money,” Jon said.

  “I have enough to last me, and I’ll get plenty from our royalties to cover what I need. Look, let’s keep it secret until the last show and go kick ass like we never have before,” Bob said.

  Jon nodded his head in agreement. “Okay, starting tonight, we take these last dates out with a vengeance. For Bob.”

  Jon placed a fist in the air, and the others joined him. “For Bob,” they all chanted in unison.

  “Let’s go burn this fucker down to the ground,” Jenny said and headed to the green room door.

  ***

  Jordy grew anxious in the back of the limo. The band went on in ten minutes, and he wasn’t to the arena yet. Candy moped across from him, and he wanted to open the door and kick her out. The world outside as they drove through the riots sparking in New York toward New Jersey appeared to be a page from a dystopian fantasy novel or movie. Smoke poured from storefronts, and looters tried to escape with their stolen goods as the mad people took them down and began to eat them.

  “Fucking nightmare fuel,” he muttered.

  “You say something?” Candy asked.

  “No, just looking at the city as we pass by.”

  “Looks fucking insane. I swear I saw this shit in a movie once,” Candy replied.

  “Well, we’ll be at the venue in a few minutes. Once we get there, stick close to me, and I’ll lead you to the backstage area where I’ll get your pass. You can watch the show from there or go to the floor and watch it. I don’t fucking care which one you choose,” explained Jordy.

  They sat in silence as the limo made the last few turns and pulled into the arena. The parking lot was packed, and people still lined up outside to clear security to get into the venue for the FLXS concert.

  “See, you get to skip the lines and shit,” Jordy huffed.

  Candy stared at the crowds, and the excitement began to hum through her body. The blood on the windows enamored her, and she felt something else rise inside her. She wanted it covering her body. She wanted to smear it on her chest and dance on stage. The Stigmata album was her favorite, and she needed to be part of it by having the band on her or in her. Dreams of Jenny’s tongue dancing across her lips while the others stripped her and filled made her get hot.

  “Candy?”

  Candy ran her tongue across her black lipstick and ignored Jordy. He got part of what he needed, and she didn’t even smear her make-up doing it.

  “Candy?”

  “What the fuck?” she yelled, finally tired of him badgering her.

  “We’re here,” he stated flatly and opened his door. He didn’t want to wait on the driver; he wanted out of the fucking limo as soon as possible to get away from the Punk Ass Punk loving shithead driver and the selfish woman who only wanted to be with the rich and famous.

  Candy waited for Howie to climb from the car and open the door for her. She stepped out and let her eyes drink him in. If she didn’t have designs on the band, she’d have him take her for a ride. Howie smiled and took in her form too. He winked, and she ran her fingers along the limo’s rear windows and stuck her fingers in her mouth. Sucking the blood off, she licked her lips, and the crimson covered her lipstick.

  “You are hardcore, girl,” Howie teased and shook his head.

  “You have no…,” Candy began and stopped mid-sentence.

  Jordy strolled around from the other side of the limo and clapped his hands. “Let’s go; we need to get inside.”

  Candy doubled over and grabbed her stomach. “So hot,” she muttered and fell to her knees.

  She lifted her head, and Jordy saw the sweat pouring from her face. Her make-up ran in black streaks down her cheeks, and her eyes blazed. Candy dropped to all fours, and once down on her hands and knees, she vomited. A red geyser erupted from her mouth, splashing the parking lot surface. She heaved again, but nothing came out.

  “It burns!” she yelled and rolled onto her back.

  Jordy dropped to his knees, and Candy started to convulse. He tried to hold her down, but her body bucked and twisted beneath him. He grabbed her arms, and Jordy pulled back when he felt how hot her skin was to the touch.

  Candy let out one last scream, and her body went still. Howie backed away and covered his mouth. “Oh, shit. Damn, I can’t be involved with this.”

  “Help me, damn it,” Jordy ordered.

  “I ain’t touching no dead hooker.”

  “We can’t leave her out here if she fucking OD’d!”

  Jordy stood up and pushed Howie. Howie glared at Jordy and looked down where Jordy touched him. “You touch me again, and I will hurt you.”

  “Well, fucking help me then and…,” Jordy began to say before he heard the moan.

  Both men turned and watched Candy climb to her feet. Her body moved in short jerky bursts, and her head hung limply to the left. One eye ruptured, and it had a dark red hue. The other eye looked milky and blind. She stared at them, and a low guttural growl sounded out from her lips. The black lipstick had smeared, and blood covered her cheeks and the white top she wore.

  “Candy?” Howie said and reached out for her.

  When Candy struck out at Howie, it reminded him of the nature shows he’d watched about snakes. Her head moved with such swift beauty and grace latching on to Howie’s arm. Her teeth bit deep, and blood poured from the wound. Candy ripped a chunk free from his arm, and Howie stumbled backward, half in shock and half in surprise.

  Jordy backed away and made his way around to the opposite side of the limo. He heard Candy snarl and growl. Howie’s fists balled up, and he took two steps at Candy. She snapped her jaws at him, and her teeth sank deep into her lips. Chewing on the black-colored lips, she ripped bits away when she released them to jump at Howie.

  Howie met her attack with a quick jab to the nose. Candy froze and licked the blood gushing down her face. He looked in her eyes and saw the milky-white tint of them, and he grew frightened. He glanced at the bite from her, and it appeared bright red and infected. Slowly, he felt a burning sensation move up his arm and into his chest. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt like someone lit his body on fire. Sweat poured from his forehead, and he tore at his shirt to try to cool himself off. Candy backed away and let him fall to the floor. She sniffed the air and turned to Jordy.

  Jordy hated himself. He could have run away while Howie mixed it up with a now very dead Candy, but he had to stay and watch. Jordy didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to see a zombie in action. At least he thought she was a zombie. Yeah, he’d pictured real zombies shambling along, but she made it look swift and ungodly hot. He felt a little chubb grow in his pants, and he didn’t register Howie climbing back up to his feet until the limo driver growled.

  “Oh good, you’re okay,” Jordy said, looking over at Howie. The driver responded with another growl, and Jordy noticed his eyes were missing pupils.

  Jordy backed away from the limo. Candy closed in from the car’s front, and Howie moved in from the trunk. Jordy noticed he really didn’t walk as much as he limped around.

  “So, I think our business has concluded, and I wish you a good night,” Jordy said and turned to run.

  Candy pounced on him, and her long nails dug deep into Jordy’s arm. She drew her fingers back as he skated by her and ran to the door into the arena. She looked at her nails with new eyes and saw the world differently. Tiny shreds of skin hung from beneath her press-ons dripping blood. Instinctively, she ran her tongue across the black nails and tasting flesh and blood. Her stomach growled, and she wanted more.

  Now, she’d always want more.

  Howie approa
ched her, and they sniffed the air. Behind the door, they smelled food, and mindlessly tried to find a way inside.

  2

  Showtime:

  T-Minus One Hour to Ground Zero

  On the other side of the thick black curtains, FLXS heard the screams and chanting for them. The song they played over the speakers before they took to the stage had started, and the arena lights had gone dark. Through small openings in the curtain, the band saw the lighters and cell phone lights illuminating the floor and the seats surrounding the stage. They all felt the adrenaline surge through their veins, and they looked around at each other.

  Bob took his place behind the skins and held his sticks high over his head. Lars and Jenny moved to center stage and faced-off with one another. They held their guitars together at the necks and flexed their fingers in preparation. Jon stood off to the right and slowly moved his head to the tune of the chanting crowd as he fed off the people and gave it right back to them. Signing the cross on his chest, he kissed the silver crucifix he always wore and took his microphone in his hand.

  The song stopped, and the arena fell silent.

  Jon looked off to the stagehand beside him and gave the signal for all Hell to break loose.

  The curtain fell to the floor in front of the stage, and Jenny struck the first chord of their hit single, Babylon Rising. Lars and Bob joined in on the song’s frantic opening measures while Jon awaited his time in the darkness. The crowd roared, and slam danced around in the pit as the song pounded out from the speaker stacks.

  Lars did his small bass doodle, and Jon jumped out on the stage when the first verse kicked in.

  “On the other side of night, where the demons and devils dwell, I heard his evil voice calling for my soul,” Jon screamed into the microphone.

  The band met in the center of the stage under the bleeding cross hanging from the arena rafters and banged their heads in unison. They knew it would be a hell of a show.