There was a crash, it paused them from returning to their room, and then another. Scraping feet on the hardwood floor of the front foyer now sends chills up their spines. Pitiful moans make their way up to them where they loom in the dark.
“Go to bed,” Killian whispers. “I’m going to see what’s going on.”
“I’m coming too,” Hippo counters.
Their neighbor, Mrs. Krantz, usually falls asleep watching the home improvement channel when she babysits. Killian fears the old woman may be hurt or sick, if it’s even her at all. He doesn’t protest his brother’s tagging along, but he stays in front of him as they creep down the stairs keeping low. They hide behind the bars of the railing as they make their way slowly down, just enough to catch a glimpse of the entry way.
Another crash, something glass falls and breaks accompanied by a heavy thud. The boys wait, unable to see. Killian knows the article that has broken is one of the foyer lamps by the dimming of the light available to him. The bulb has been spared, casting its glow across the floor.
A shadow steps in the focused rays of light, a giant shambling figure is cast along the floor and wall. Shuffling feet and moans keep the boys frozen to the stairs, they just wait for the mystery to reveal itself to them.
House slippers take lazy, scraping steps into their field of vision. Aimless strides they know to be their sitter. Relief is short lived, Killian worries the woman may be sick considering her moaning and odd behavior.
“Mrs. Krantz?” he calls down to her. “Are you all right?”
There is no response from their nice neighbor. The boys watch as her wandering feet falter slightly before heading their way.
####
Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight? Luke follows a police cruiser through the swelling madness of the city as he rushes to his grandsons. The horse is pushed harder than it’s used to, steam pours from its nostrils like a locomotive in the frosty night air. Luke has had to make several detours, each one filling him with dread about what may be happening to the boys. The streets are even worse than before.
Intersections are clogged with cars. Response vehicles sit with their lights flashing unattended. Worst of all is the people, left with no recourse they run. Panicked folks seek safety, running from those stricken with madness. Luke passes what he fears for the boys, deranged individuals driven by an insane need to bite their fellow man. One such person has a victim on the sidewalk, she hunches over him as she makes a meal of his throat.
Luke has to look back to be sure he saw what he saw. More like the mad woman join the feast, falling to their knees to tear into the poor man. In his glimpse of the carnage he notices that the perpetrators have themselves been bitten. He thinks of Callahan, he was bitten at the scene of the wreck. Already infracting a few laws he adds using his phone while driving to the list.
The line rings for a while before being picked up. Though he had dialed his old partner, a younger voice answers.
“Where’s Callahan?” Luke asks.
“He’s gone. Who is this?” Luke is asked by who he assumes to be Murphy, the rookie he had met that night.
“Murphy? This is Luke Stemmer, we met tonight.”
“Santa?”
“Yeah, that’s right, it’s Santa. What happened to Callahan?”
“Gone,” the cop answers sadly. “After we left the crash, we made it to a few more calls, mostly domestics. He got bit, later he just started sweating and saying his insides were on fire. The hospitals were chaos, so we took a break at the station. He lied down… then he got up…”
“Did he attack anyone?”
“Yes,” the rookie says, almost sounding relieved that someone understands what he saw. “It’s the bite. It makes people go crazy.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No. I took him to the ground. Then we tossed him in a holding cell.” The young man trails off. Luke can hear moaning coming from the other end of the line. “I’m looking at him now. He just… wants to get at me.”
“Has anyone called the CDC? Or, for back-up from the National Guard?”
“I dunno,” the cop answers, the night has certainly taken its toll on him.
“Find out for me, will you? I’m on my way to check on something.”
The cop car he has been following veers off to wherever it has been called to. It’s a relatively straight shot to his daughter’s house from his current location, barring any obstacles. He coaxes as much speed out of his horse as he can wanting to get to the boys before someone, or something, else does.
####
“Maybe you should lay down,” Killian suggests, descending the stairs to meet the woman at the landing. “I’ll call my mom.”
The old woman continues to shuffle closer, she reaches out for him moaning sadly as if asking for assistance.
“What’s wrong with her,” Hippo asks, following his older brother.
“I don’t know. She’s sick I guess.” He stands on the bottom step, allowing his sitter to come to him. The foyer is a mess. Killian guesses she must have fallen a few times and wonders if she has hit her head. “It’s all right, Mrs. Krantz, we’ll take care of you and clean this up.”
The sitter reaches the stairs, and the boy standing above her. She doesn’t so much falter on her feet as actually lunges for him. Her cold withered hands grab greedily onto his shoulders with crushing strength. Her weight pins him to the risers. Killian lets out a yelp of shock as he fights to get out from under her.
The old woman holds him down, her sad expression and blank eyes take on an eagerness that unnerves the youth. The sitter quickly lowers her head to the boy she was hired to look after.
“Get offa him!” Hippo yells from behind the old lady, his hands on her shoulders and pulling with all his might. He had leapt over the railing, happy to have a reason to since the action usually lands him in trouble.
Big for his age and solidly built, Hippo is able to keep his babysitter from getting her face too close to his brother, for now. His initial yank on her body was enough to pull her back but neither is giving up. To the dismay of his father, Doctor Josh Newton, Hippocrates is very stubborn and brutish, more like his step son’s father than his own spawn. Killian ironically has been easier to bond with; he’s a reader, a thinker, and far more sensitive.
The sitter is derailed from her second attempt, the child on her back draws her full attention. He leaps away as she turns. Killian is afforded the chance to get up, he’s shaken but more concerned with his brother’s safety. Mrs. Krantz is slowly heading his way.
“Run, Hippo!” the older of the two warns. At his call, the sitter once more sets her eyes on him for he is closer. “Oh shit!”
Hippo bounces in place as he watches his brother retreat a few steps up the stairs, he isn’t sure what to do and unable to contain the energy begging to be released. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know, buddy,” the brother admits, taking another step up to keep out of her reach.
The sitter attempts to use the stairs but stumbles, failing to lift her foot high enough to step up. She claws and crawls after him.
“Just jump over the railing,” Hippo suggests when he sees his brother at a loss.
Killian does what he and his brother have been told countless times not to do. The banister wobbles slightly with a cracking sound as the boy’s weight shifts over the top. He doesn’t share his brother’s fearlessness, he can’t just leap without regard and forethought. His toes are sticking through the spokes of the railing to keep him on the stairs as the sitter closes in. Mrs. Krantz clutches the thin wooden poles and hoists herself up until she can get a hand on the main rail.
“What are you waiting for?” Hippo asks.
“I’m letting her get closer,” Killian reveals the plan, he can see the woman is not in her right mind and unable to understand what he’s saying. Once she is almost to him, having struggled and strained her way halfway up the stairs, he drops down.
The brothers sta
nd in the foyer watching the woman lean against the railing, still reaching out to them. One of the reasons they are told not to jump over the banister or slide down it, besides the obvious safety concerns, is that it isn’t strong enough for that sort of abuse and could break. Mrs. Krantz herself has had to scold little Hippo on more than one occasion, Tonight, she doesn’t heed her own words.
The wood cracks under her weight and shakes. The boys move back, seeing what is about to happen before it occurs. Killian warns the old woman, afraid of her but not wanting to see her get hurt. With a sudden snap the rail lets go of the wall and comes crashing down with the woman on top.
Given her behavior the children don’t rush to her aid, they just hover at the cusp of the foyer, finding it odd that she hasn’t yelled out in pain. One of her legs is caught between the spokes and pinned to the hardwood floor by her own bodyweight. Her head had bounced off the laminate like a basketball, yet still she reaches for them. They look into her eyes, once the shock of the split skin where her face struck the floor abates, they can see she simply isn’t home.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, the kids run to the window to see what exactly is going on out there. A black carriage, pulled by a white horse is now parked on their frontage. More curious is who is leaping off of it.
“Santa!” Hippo gleefully cheers.
“Grandpa?” Killian asks the red suited figure that charges to the door.
They are both right of course. Before the kids can unlock the front door the man is knocking hard upon it. They go to let him in, thankful for the help, especially from their grandfather since they seldom get to see the man. The boys aren’t tall enough to undo the chain lock their parents added to the door all the way at the top a year ago. They weren’t fearful of folks getting in so much as Hippo getting out. The headstrong boy had learned to unlock the door and had a habit of going out whenever he wanted to.
“Stand back,” Luke tells them through the gap and gives them but seconds to comply before kicking the door open.
Pieces of chain fly and scatter around the brothers. They rush to the man in the Santa suit and hug him tightly. Mrs. Krantz stares at the three in their embrace, when they separate her focus shifts from one to the other, reaching for each without much preference on which she can grab.
Luke closes the door. “Go upstairs. Get dressed. Dress warm, it’s cold.”
“Where are we going?” Killian asks. His brother hadn’t even questioned his grandfather’s order, just started for the stairs giving Mrs. Krantz a wide berth.
Luke watches the old woman zero in on the young boy as he makes himself the closest target. She lunges at him from where she is stuck, inching her way to him with every thrust. “Hospital. Gonna get your mom. Then, get you all out of this city,” he tells them as he walks up to the berserk babysitter, he places his foot on her back and holds her to the floor.
“What’s wrong with her?” Killian inquires compassionately.
“Not exactly sure. Sick, I guess.” Luke sees the lady’s purse and asks his grandson to toss it to him where he keeps the writhing woman contained.
“Are we taking her to the hospital?” Killian asks.
“No. I doubt they can help her,” Luke says as he rifles through the bag. He pushes aside several different prescription bottles to find her keys, he can’t take the boys in the carriage. He needs something more solid for them to hide in while he retrieves Suzy.
Once the boys are in their room getting ready, Luke feels the woman’s neck. She’s cold to the touch, and he confirms the impossibility he feared. He has seen things tonight that are simply unexplainable, things of pure fiction. Just as I thought, he thinks to himself as the woman under his foot struggles to turn so she can get her hands on him. She’s dead.
19
“…increasing reports of bizarre behavior and acts of violence have officials baffled. We have been asked to issue a warning to all in the listening area and surrounding counties to stay inside, do not leave your home. If you are hearing this and are out, try to seek shelter. The streets are not safe.”
Luke Stemmer turns the volume down on the radio that comes on once he starts the sitter’s large late model Cadillac. He doesn’t want his grandkids to worry, he also doesn’t want to second guess his decision to take them out in the chaos. He needs to get to Suzy, if only to make up for the past six years.
“…a state of emergency. The Center for Disease Control has yet to make a statement over the cause of the hysteria. Impossible as it may seem, reports are coming in that the individuals behind the attacks are in fact dead…”
The news fills one listener with dread, Killer B sits in the dark, relatively alone on the bus aside from her snoring friend, Rocky Roadkill. Her teammate, Penelope Bruise, had gone back into the hospital to check on the rest of the girls and see what was taking so long. That was hours ago, she has not returned. After the startling encounter with Santa, the world beyond the bus has grown more disturbing, people running from slow moving figures on the streets, never ending sirens, and more than a few gunshots in the night.
“…the rash of violence just seems to be spreading, even into more affluent neighborhoods like a virus. More than one insider has claimed that ‘a virus’ may actually be to blame and seems to be transmitted through human bites…”
“Of course it is,” laments a recent bite victim. She took her eyes from the road to inspect the burning wound on her right arm, making the sting worse on herself when she shifts her skin to get a better view of her tricep. Nina is missing a small chunk of flesh on the back of her arm, and a few of the alchemy symbols she had tattooed there during college. She has made it out of Breckinridge and is flying towards Waterloo. Feeling feverish already, the word over the wire only exacerbates her condition. Prickly beads of sweat spring across her brow, she turns on the air conditioner but it doesn’t help. Waves of nausea swell in her stomach that makes her eyes water. Her original intentions were to try to double her windfall by re-selling the sample back to Wilkes, now she just wants answers. If anyone knows what’s going on it’ll be Wilkes.
The advice to stay off the streets was not heard by one man that runs for his life tonight. The advice to seek shelter would have only been ignored as he races towards Breckinridge University, he has to see the woman he loves in person. With all the craziness he passes and avoids, he has to know she is all right. He pictures himself as a knight in shining armor, charging to rescue a damsel in distress as he skirts around abandoned automobiles and changes his course to circumvent interactions with any individual in his path, especially the suspiciously slow ones.
Navigating solely from memory, Archie had looked up where Amber’s school was in relation to the Breckinridge branch of Plasmacore knowing he may need to earn some quick cash. Once he gets there all he has to go on as far as finding her is three Greek symbols. His heart’s desire wore a tee-shirt in one picture that displayed what he assumes is her sorority. He races down a lane of houses, all have different combinations of the characters above their doors.
It isn’t until he hits Greek Row that he realizes just how odd the behavior is of the peculiarly slow figures. He has barely registered the chill of the air either until he comes to a sudden halt. Three of them are in the middle of the road, hunched over a still body, eating it.
The shudder Archie is struck with escapes his mouth in a cloud of steam, he feels chilled to the bone in an instant. More wander in and out of shadows from every direction, attracted to the panting man.
The three before him rise to their feet upon his arrival, neglecting the inert feast in favor of fresher fare. They approach him, hands out ready to grab, but he’s already moving again, desperate to find the right house.
20
“What do you mean ‘the National Guard is busy’?” Luke asks perplexed by the notion.
“This is happening everywhere,” Murphy responds over the phone. “The local wing…or branch…or whatever is out of Waterloo. They said
they have their hands full and will try and get units to us.”
The rookie sounds rattled. He’s in over his head. He told Luke that they’ve lost a lot of manpower tonight, their men are falling out there on the streets. Many have abandoned their posts all together and are missing in action. “It’s a fucking war, sir.”
“What about the regular, full-time Army?” Luke suggests, inspired by the word war.
“Mobilizing. But, for the most part they are ‘taking stock of the situation’.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Luke curses to the delight of his grandsons. He’s parked near the hospital, tucked away in a dark alley.
“It means we’re on our own.”
The task at hand is to get his daughter out of the hospital, which he can already imagine is going to be hell given how crazy it was before. That leaves him with what to do next. I get Suzy, then what? “Look, Murphy, if the Guard can’t come to us, we’ll go to the Guard. Or, any of the military posts nearby. I want you to get as many men as you can and start grabbing folks. We’ll evacuate the city.”
“How in the hell am I supposed to do this?”
“Just get it done!” he ends his call on that, and just sits for a second.
“Are you all right?” Killian asks.
“Yeah, buddy. I’m all right,” he answers, feeling far from ‘all right’. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving the boys out here while he goes in to get their mom. He further doesn’t like that he had to lie to Hippo by telling him he will be grabbing his father. Josh was bitten, if he isn’t a part of the problem by now, he soon will be.
From where he has the borrowed Cadillac parked he can see one of the lots that surround the hospital. A large bus blocks his view of the door he had exited from previously. He had passed an unattended fire truck on the block, that’ll be his first stop since he’ll need a new weapon. “Killian, I told you about respecting guns, right?”
Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End Page 7
