Four (Their Dead Lives,1)

by Scott, Zack

  Addison grabbed Brody’s shoulder. “We’re friends. I want you to be safe. Come with me. We can hide out in a cabin and live, man, live.”

  Brody turned his face away. “I can’t. I have to try and save this world.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “You know how.”

  Addison let him go. “You want to put the fate of the world in their hands?”

  “There was never a choice.”

  “How can you know?”

  Brody’s cheeks puffed out. “An evil force is here and everything has an opposite. Those boys are that opposite.”

  “Those boys are four rich, spoiled brats.” Addison turned the flashlight out the office and down an abandoned hall. The supposed safe house had been abandoned by most. “I’m out of here. Good luck to you, Brody.” He pushed past him but Brody stopped him, grasping his arms.

  “Do me one favor. One favor, and then it’s your life.”

  Addison looked through his fogged glasses. “Well, do tell.”

  “If you pick a cabin to hide in, go to Michael’s in southern California.”

  “Michael? You mean Maniac Mike?”

  “Yes.”

  He’s crazier than me. “Sure, I remember it. Ha, Mike was always nagging for us to go there. But why now?”

  “I’ve arranged for someone to meet us. But that’s not my first stop. If you could go, and see the delivery through, I’d be grateful. Mike is already there, I sent him a few days ago.”

  Now this sounds like a trap. No one can be trusted. I know this. But alone with Sofia in a cabin...anything goes. I like that idea.

  “When will you be there?”

  “If a week passes, I never will.” Brody nudged toward the desk. “You still have the boys’ files?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, take them.”

  Addison sighed. “Brody, I don’t know if—”

  “You can do this. You were the one who made the Vault code. You were the one who opened them all. You can help me save this world. This is what you always wanted, Addison.”

  Be the man I want to. Sofia would like that. “Who am I meeting there?”

  “An older man. His name is Nasir. Very nice guy. Maniac Mike will fill you in, but you’ll know the package when you see it. Take the files and go. Quick, quiet, and alone. Be safe.”

  “Yes.” But not alone, first I must reach Sofia.

  They shook hands slowly, feeling the weight of this agreement. “I wish you the best, my friend. I’ll see you soon.” With these parting words, Brody Vitaly left.

  Addison packed a satchel with his joints, ammo for his revolver, a bottle of bourbon, and several protein bars. The last thing he searched was his safe containing only a manila folder. He stared at it for a brief moment before lowering his head. This is crazy. And I have looked into the eyes of crazy. Still, he took the folder, dropped it on the desk, and opened it with steady fingers. Brody believes in higher powers, in opposite forces sent to our world. He believes in fantasy.

  Addison spread the four dossiers across his desk, and holding the flashlight in his mouth, he examined their photographs. Alec. Jeff. Kale. Scot.

  Hours later, Addison ran across a corporate building’s rooftop. Hunched over, he held Sofia’s hand as they raced to a luxury helicopter. Two men in suits stood outside the aircraft, unaffected by the whirring blades above them. One of the men slid the cabin door open.

  Addison let Sofia in first then followed. He strapped himself in a leather chair next to her. “I really do hate helicopters.”

  The two men in suits sat silently across from them.

  “You’ll be fine, Addy.” Sofia reached for his hand. She was in her mid-thirties, had caramel skin and thick black hair that hung to her shoulders. Exotic. Beautiful.

  The helicopter eased off the rooftop, taking to the air. Nerves ran wild in Addison’s hands. He stared at the two men. They each had thin, tinted glasses. Leaning over to Sofia, Addison whispered, “Who are these bozos?”

  “After the Vault architects were murdered, my company hired them for our protection.”

  “But you had nothing to do with the Vaults.”

  Sofia turned away. “Not entirely true.”

  No. No. Addison yanked his hand from her. “Tell me. Tell me everything. Now.” He thought about the revolver tucked in his slacks under his jacket. He thought about Brody. Has she already betrayed me?

  “We helped finance the project. There was more profit to be made than just saving the human race.”

  Addison looked back at the suited men. They were statues. “You tricked me here, didn’t you?”

  Sofia leaned closer, staring at him with her golden eyes. “Trick you? You contacted me. You told me to wait for you.”

  “And why did you wait?”

  “Addy, really?” Sofia rolled her eyes and turned away. “You’re paranoid.”

  “I have every reason to be. I’ve been tricked from day one. You know this.”

  Sofia nodded at the suited men. No. One of the men unstrapped himself and stood, pulling a syringe from under his jacket.

  Shoot them all, thought Addison. I will not accept another betrayal.

  “What the hell is this?” Addison jerked in his seat: strapped, trapped. He thrust a hand into his jacket and his fingers brushed the revolver, but the syringe punctured him first.

  Heat flushed against Addison’s face. Flames licked at his shoes. He jolted awake. Crawling slowly from the flaming wreckage of the helicopter, all his nightmares were coming true. First, an apocalypse. Second, millions, billions, of people dead. Third, Sofia’s betrayal and fourth, a helicopter crash. Fucking helicopters. I hate helicopters.

  The cracked face of his watch read four in the morning. He heaved himself to his feet, stumbled a couple times and hunched over, vomit flying from his mouth with a heave. All this for some stupid spoiled kids. Damn it, Brody. His hand shaking, he wiped his mouth.

  Flames baking his back, sweat poured off his cheeks. His wire-framed glasses steamed, so he cleaned them with his dress shirt. He rushed for his lower back, relieved to feel the steel of his revolver.

  The flaming helicopter had broken in half upon impact. Addison wondered how he’d managed to survive. He cupped his mouth, shouting her name. “Sofia!”

  Past the flames, he heard crashing waves. He jogged from the wreckage and to a cliff. He stopped a few feet from the edge. Nothing but darkness, with the ocean far below. Backing a few steps, he turned and paused. A body crawled out of the fire. Fire ate at its melting arms as it reached for Addison.

  “No—no—” Addison groaned in fear as he aimed his revolver at the pilot. It moaned at him. “Screw it.” And he ran. His feet slammed on cement after he rushed off the cliffside. He kept running and never slowed down, wishing he’d stayed in his office or had gone with Brody. Anything but this.

  Not much time passed before Addison ran out of breath. Too...many...Hot Pockets. His knees fell to the highway’s cement as he fought for breath. Through the dark, he saw a row of motorcycles parked outside a restaurant. Others were knocked over in a metallic jumble.

  Go. Addison stumbled to the porch. A creaking neon sign above the entrance said NEPTUNE’S RETREAT. He leaned against the door to catch his breath. Locked. He knocked several times. No response. Be grateful it’s empty. He slid down the door and curled against it, listening to the waves in the distance and closing his eyes.

  The door opened.

  With all his weight resting on the door, Addison lost his balance and fell heavily into the restaurant.

  A young redhead stood over him. She knelt down, Tiki torches flickering behind her. “You bit?”

  Addison mumbled, “No, in a helicopter crash. Need water.”

  “Helicopter crash?”

  “Yes. Water.”

  “Weird, so was she.”

  Addison used his remaining strength to lift his head off the ground and look in the direction where the redhead was pointing. “She?�
�

  “Yeah, Sofia.”

  Later that day, Addison sat across from her on the restaurant’s back patio.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, Addy.” Sofia reached over a plastic green table.

  Addison leaned away from her. “You drug me, you leave me out there to die. What the hell happened?”

  “I drugged you for your own safety. I didn’t need you flipping out in the helicopter. I know you get paranoid in them. Didn’t do much good, though, the pilot was bit and he turned and crashed us.”

  “Everyone else?”

  “Dead.” Her hand tapped against the table.

  She’s hiding something. “Why did you leave me?”

  “I didn’t leave you. I couldn’t find you.”

  “Yet we both end up here.”

  Sofia tilted her head, eyeing him. “My God, you’re paranoid.”

  “I have every reason to be!” Addison looked back into the restaurant, hoping no one heard him. He leaned forward, his palms on the table. A hoarse whisper unleashed, “I was set up. I was tricked into opening the Vaults. I caused this.”

  “Who tricked you?”

  Addison bit his lip. “I can’t tell you what I know but I will tell you this: no one is who they say they are.”

  “So that porn star in there isn’t really a porn star?”

  “That’s not what I mean. There are Embracers out there, Sofia. Embracers working for some-some thing.”

  Sofia leaned back, her brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Addison scanned every direction. “We can’t talk here. Let’s gather some food, drinks and head out within the hour. There’s a cabin I’m supposed to go to. We hide there. Christ, I should’ve been there by now.”

  As he said that, Jacky, the redhead, let a new group of survivors into the restaurant.

  “More? Not more!” He stayed low on the table, hoping no one would really notice him from all the way inside.

  “How far is this cabin?”

  “It’s close. You remember Maniac Mike? I told you some stories about him. Been there once. Never wanted to go back. But I think it’s our best bet right now.”

  Sofia grabbed his hand. “I’m with you, Addy.”

  You’re full of shit, but for now, that’s fine.

  Still holding his hand, she said, “Okay, well, let’s go inside, gather supplies, and head out.”

  Addison was about to follow her inside, but paused. He grabbed her. “No.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s sneak out here. Now. Tell no one. The more people we run in to, the closer we are to them.”

  Sofia bit her passionate lip. “How do we know if we see an Embracer?”

  “If we see one, we’re already dead.” With that, they left. He caught a glimpse of some of the survivors. A young man had quite similar strawberry blond hair to one of the profiles he carried. But he ignored this momentary resemblance. Too unlikely. An older hippy strummed his desperately out-of-tune guitar near them, which gave more incentive to leave. So they continued on, heading for the trees, heading for the cabin.

  “Addy, we’re lost.” Sofia followed behind him through the woods.

  “I swear it’s right around here.” Though his own words did not fully reassure him, he felt they were heading in the right direction. “It should be right . . . aha!” He skipped with joy for the two-story cabin. His happiness was quickly cut off at the sight of the body: Maniac Mike, on the front porch of the cabin, his skull crushed in.

  “Addy, is that—?”

  “Yes.” She grabbed at his hand and his fingers wrapped around hers instinctively. They took each step together. The front door hung open, scratched and clawed but not broken. Inside, a staircase led to the second floor. Addison remembered all the bedrooms up there. As they stepped in, to their right was a living room with one large, leather couch and several recliner chairs. To their left, a dining room with a mahogany table and like chairs. Straight ahead, past the staircase, would lead them to the kitchen and for the back door. He figured the dead broke in through there.

  After clearing the cabin, they rested upstairs. Sofia showered in the master bathroom as Addison sat on a gigantic, fluffy bed. He’d found a tape recorder in one of the other bedrooms. He remembered Mike had a step-daughter, or his girlfriend had a daughter, or something.

  The tape played, and a young girl’s voice spoke:

  “I can hear them outside. My mom says to stay upstairs while her and Michael wait for the police to arrive. I don’t want to hide up here. What if they break through? What if I don’t get to see my family again? I’m close to going downstairs. I’m tired of waiting. One of them already almost got us. It tried to break the front door but Michael pushed it out. He was bit.”

  Addison paused the tape. Maniac Mike was one smart, tough son of a bitch. If he’s dead, what are my chances?

  The voice of the girl continued, “A good hour ago. Since then, he’s been acting weird. I wonder if the movies are right. I wonder if you’re bitten then you turn into one of them.” She breathed and stayed silent a moment. “I can still hear them trying to find a way in. To eat us. I tried calling my dad, but our phones aren’t working. I hope he’s okay. If they break through, that’s where I’m going, to my dad. He’s a colonel. He will know what to do.” She groaned. “No. I should leave for him now. I can’t wait here anymore. I am getting nervous all alone. I’ll leave this tape behind, in case anyone finds it . . . my parents, my friends always wondered why I kept this old thing around. Now they know that—”

  A scream echoed in the background and rustling sounds followed. The girl spoke faster, “In case I don’t make it, if you find this, go to Camp Numark in Oxnard. It’s only an hour drive from this cabin. Find Colonel Jack Hutton. Maybe I will see you there. I think, I know it will be the safest place—wha-what the hell is that?”

  A long pause.

  “My name is Cassidy Hutton, to those left I say,” a brief pause, “survive.”

  A thud followed Cassidy’s last word. Silence.

  Addison shoved the tape recorder in a nightstand. She must have made it out, alive or dead. He lay back on the bed and soon Sofia joined him, wearing only a towel. Water gleamed on her skin, and he had every urge to attack her. But there was no trust, and with no trust, he had to be on his guard.

  They slept in the same bed that night. She kept nudging him, whether it was intentional or not, he had no idea. But he had to ensure his own safety, in order to retrieve Brody’s package, which never came the first night.

  In the cold blue morning, Addison stepped outside. He found a red bandana to tie around his face to help block the rotten stench of Maniac Mike. He grabbed Mike’s body and dragged it deeper into the woods. He had no idea if his corpse would attract others, and took no chances.

  By the time Addison finished, the sky was a bright blue. He made his way to the cabin, then paused. Sofia, wrapped in a robe, was on the porch. “I was scared you left.”

  “No, I wanted to get rid of his body.”

  “It’s still early,” she smiled, “why don’t we go cuddle in bed?”

  While he contemplated that lovely, or perhaps dreadful, idea, a rifle shot echoed through the trees. Addison dropped to a crouch while Sofia still stood on the porch. “Get back inside,” he said and waved.

  “That was close.”

  “Will you get back? Jesus, woman!” Addison rushed up to the porch and grabbed her.

  “Addison,” she whispered, “what if someone is hurt?” She grabbed his cheeks. He stared into her eyes and was about to lean in for her lips when she forced his face to look east.

  Another rifle blast struck their ears. “Do you have your revolver?” she asked him.

  How does she know about it? “No, I was out here, by myself, unarmed . . .”

  “Okay, smart ass, come on.” She pulled him off the porch and they headed toward the gunshots.

  “Why the hell are we doing this? Especially while you’re in a
robe and slippies.” He hated that they were wandering off. Hated it. She looked damn good in that robe, though.

  She smiled. “I can’t believe you said, slippies.”

  They heard screaming nearby. Crying. Addison grabbed Sofia’s hand and pulled her down into a crouch.

  “We should help,” Sofia said.

  “How about we hide here? Maybe they won’t find us?” Addison edged back for the cabin as they ducked behind some tall bushes.

  “Addy, let’s go.” She had such a reassuring voice.

  They snuck along behind some trees. Sofia peeked around first. Addison crouched behind her and cracked a branch.

  An old man swung his rifle at them.

  Sofia stuck out her hands, and Addison knew she looked harmless. Please don’t shoot her. “We heard your cries, are you okay?”

  “Heard us from where?” the old man asked her.

  “A cabin, a little west from here.”

  Christ, Sofia.

  “A cabin, you say?” The old man stepped closer, still on his guard. “I saw you two at Neptune’s. You left once we came. Why?”

  “We had somewhere to go,” Addison evaded.

  “The cabin,” confirmed the old man. “I also had a cabin to go to. Been searching for the last hour.”

  “Wait,” Addison had to take a second to remember the man’s name given to him by Brody. “Nasir?”

  “Brody Vitaly?”

  “No, I’m—” Addison’s answer died when he saw the body behind the old man. He saw the strawberry blond hair, the pale skin, the slender frame. Scot. “Is he—is he gone?”

  “He was bit,” Nasir grimaced, “and we had to put him down. Brody never specified bringing him alive. I figured this would be worth some payment at least.”

  “We will give you whatever you need.” Addison stumbled over to the body, knelt and grabbed the lifeless head. The bullet’s entry wound was just above the boy’s eyebrow. And even though Addison knew nothing of Scot, he held the body close, because Brody was wrong, and this terrified him more than anything.

  A LOST SOUL