by J. Thorn
Normally I would have walked, but I was a little spooked and didn’t want to be far from my rental car, so I drove the short distance. I absently noted the swamp that filled the land bordered by my hotel and the street that led to the office. The sun was now down and there was a faint mist starting to form over the surface of the water. I’m not a superstitious man, and in my day was something on the bad side of bad ass, but I hit the lock button for the SUV’s doors and felt better when they promptly thunked into place.
The parking lot at the office was empty but well lit when I pulled in. It’s a large lot that stretches out from the building to a green belt on two sides, the swamp on the other. I parked as close to the doors as I could, not really giving a crap about using a handicapped spot in an empty parking lot at night.
My key card tripped the lock and I tugged open the heavy glass door and entered the marble floored lobby. To my left was a receptionist area, but when I picked up the handset off the massive phone bank sitting on her desk there was no dial tone even though an extension light started glowing red. Not sure if there was something special that needed to be done to use this phone I hung up, noted the extension light went out, and headed deeper into the building to find a phone that was not more complicated than a physics experiment.
I used my key card to access the executive conference room, the lights automatically coming on as I entered. A normal looking phone sat on a side table between a couple of leather chairs, and again no dial tone when I lifted the handset. I gently returned the handset to the cradle, not sure why I was being careful to be quiet. Looking around the room I spotted the large plasma display mounted to the wall, the remote control precisely placed in the center of the mahogany conference table that nearly filled the space.
My company subscribed to satellite TV service and there were many more channels than what the hotel offered. Sinking into a plush leather conference chair, I spent the next hour surfing any news channel I could find. Nothing. Not even the normal news cycle. It seemed that every news outlet was pre-occupied with Hollywood gossip, pop culture puff pieces or interviews with minor celebrities. I don’t watch enough TV to know if this was normal or something out of the ordinary, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
After an hour, and multiple checks of my cell phone, the office phone and the internet, I gave up and decided to go back to the hotel and get some rest. I couldn’t find any news to indicate there was anything strange going on in the world and I passed my case of the willies off on being jet lagged and needing some rest. I stopped at a convenience store on my way back and was only mildly surprised to see a sign on the door that read “Credit Card machine is down. Cash Only.” I bought a six pack of beer, paid cash and headed back to the hotel.
Room service provided the burger and fries that I washed down with three beers before falling into bed and a deep sleep.
2
I don’t know what woke me. Whatever it was didn’t repeat, but it was enough to bring me fully awake with creeping gooseflesh on my arms. The case of the willies from the evening before was back with a vengeance. I laid there for a time, listening, but the hotel was quiet. It was too far from the Interstate to hear any late night truck traffic, plus I’ve found in the past that it really is pretty well insulated and quiet as far as hotels go.
After a bit I gave up on falling back asleep and rolled out of bed and checked my cell. No calls, texts or emails, and now it also showed no service. The room phone still had dial tone, but nothing when I tried to get an outside line. Turning the TV on I dressed quickly in yesterday’s travel clothes of jeans, polo shirt and running shoes. As I was tying my shoes the TV came up and I got a glimpse of a harried news anchor with a look of horror on her face before the damn TV followed its startup programming and changed to the hotel information channel.
Cursing, I grabbed the remote and stabbed the channel button repeatedly with my thumb until I was back on the news channel. When I saw the banner across the bottom of the screen the remote fell out of my hand and clattered onto the glass coffee table.
“America Attacked – Millions Dead” the banner screamed. I read the words over and over as if they would say something different if I just read them enough times. They didn’t. It took an effort of will to tear my eyes off the banner and look at the images on the screen and listen to the shaking voice. Apparently we were looking at New York City, but it looked more like hell on earth. The image was shaky and grainy from being taken from a great altitude, and as I listened it was explained that this was a feed from a military drone flying over New York City at 55,000 feet. Through the smoke and dust all that was visible were ruined buildings that were on fire.
“- - again, at 11:33 PM Eastern time, a series of nuclear bombs were detonated in the greater New York City area. The information we have at this time is that there were nine separate detonations that all occurred within seconds of each other. We have received wildly varying accounts of the size of the bombs, but no formal information from the White House or the Pentagon at this time. New York appears to be mostly either destroyed or on fire. The population of the area attacked is greater than eight million and so far we haven’t seen any sign of life. We’re expecting a statement from the White House sometime this morning but we…”
The reporter paused but the video feed of the destruction in New York continued to play on the screen. After a moment,
“We’re receiving unconfirmed reports of attacks on other cities on the Eastern Seaboard. These attacks are being reported as non-nuclear, but we don’t have any other information at this time. The fires burning in New York are visible as far away as Philadelphia and Boston and we’re trying to get information on the direction of the radioactive fall….”
The screen went black for a moment then changed to the logo for the Emergency Broadcast System overlaid with a banner that read ‘This Is Not A Test’. I grabbed the remote and changed channels, but every channel was displaying the same screen and over the TV speakers sounded the familiar high pitched tone unique to America’s EBS.
I sat stunned, staring at the TV, not really believing what I had just seen. This was the type of thing that only happened in the movies. Inactivity didn’t last long before my need for information kicked in. Remembering the clock radio on the night stand I dove across the bed and grabbed it, fumbling for the power button, then the AM band when only static was found on FM. Rolling through the band I found some garbled stations, and then frantically reversed when I heard a strong voice that was static covered. It took some fine tuning before a stressed sounding male voice blared out of the tiny speaker.
“We have been attacked. The New York area is just gone in multiple nuclear blasts. The following cities have had some type of nerve agent released in them and should not be approached: Boston, Philadelphia, Washington DC, Baltimore, Charlotte, Miami, Atlanta, Memphis, Chicago, St Louis, Detroit, Minneapolis, Cleveland, Dallas, Houston, Denver, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland and Seattle. Reports are that the nerve agent was released from aerial sprayers attached to small planes that flew over each of these cities and their suburbs. What the nerve agent is we still don’t know, but it seems to be dangerous whether inhaled or just touching the skin. Paralysis within seconds has been reported by many witnesses.
“Communication across the country has been disrupted, seemingly as part of a pre-planned Homeland Security response. All telephones, data lines, TV and radio have been shut down, and I’m sure we’ll be shut off as soon as we’re found.”
There was the sound of papers and objects being shuffled and it was obvious this was an amateur who was keeping his microphone open while he gathered his thoughts. There was some unintelligible conversation in the background then the voice resumed.
“This is Max. I’m back with you to tell the truth about the events that are unfolding in our great nation. Unconfirmed reports are now coming in from several places across the country of missile launches. These would be American ICBMs and so far we’ve had repor
ts from Kansas, South Dakota and Texas of missiles launching and appearing to head west. Now if this was the Russians, those missiles would be heading north to go over the pole, but they’re heading west. That’s not the Middle East either people. That’s China. Or North Korea.”
More muted conversation then Max came back on, “And another report of launches, this time from the Gulf of Mexico. Reported missile launches from far off shore. My guess would be submarine based missiles. They headed west also.
“The end of times is here my friends. Prepare for the anarchy that will reign on our world. Don’t approach cities, and if you’re in a city, get out! We aren’t the only country with missiles and I don’t believe for a moment that we can launch and no one else will. Take food and water with you. Get away from the cities. I only hope you exercised your second amendment rights and have a gun to protect yourself and your loved ones.”
There was a pause and the longest exchange yet of muffled background conversation. It seemed that Max had someone helping him somehow gather information, but the only way they could relay it to him was to tell him. After a few moments there was total silence, then the sound of a match being struck and the inhalation of smoke.
“My friends,” Max paused to exhale what sounded like a big hit off a joint, “I’m getting some more information and I just don’t know what to believe, but I’ll pass it on and you decide. Victims of the nerve agent are coming out of the paralysis and attacking anyone around them. Someone has suggested that maybe the nerve agent is triggering hyper aggression, but my youngest boy thinks that the Zombies are finally here.” Max tried a derisive laugh but didn’t pull it off. It turned into more of a strangled cough.
“We have to move now before the federals find us and shut us down. Keep listening to this frequency for the truth about what’s happening. This is Max and God save us all.”
There were a couple of snapping sounds then nothing but static. I peered at the radio dial but couldn’t make out the frequency. I thought it was 650 AM and was digging through my back pack for my reading glasses when the power went out and plunged the room into darkness.
3
I involuntarily held the breath that caught when the lights went out. It seemed the whole world was holding its breath. After a moment I slowly let it out, then caught it again when I heard the faint sounds of a woman screaming. It seemed to be coming from outside and I carefully made my way to the window. The sun was coming up and there was light around the curtains, but it had a strange quality to it.
Opening the curtains I looked down from my fifth floor window onto the swamp I had driven around the night before. A dense layer of mist hung just above the surface of the water, but what caught my attention was downtown Atlanta, 35 miles to the south. Atlanta was burning. Dense, black smoke billowed across much of the horizon, lit from within by what must have been thousands of fires as the city was consumed in flame. My mouth fell open as I stared at what looked like a Hieronymus Bosch painting of hell. How did it all happen so fast? Was civilization really that fragile?
I don’t know how long I would have stood staring at the inferno, but my attention was pulled away by another of the screams that had first brought me to the window. In the swamp, wading through water to her waist was a woman who appeared to be completely nude. Behind her trudged three men. As I watched, one of them stepped into what had to be a deep hole and fell forward into the slime choked water. Instead of swimming he started thrashing violently until he sank from sight. His two companions never even turned their heads or tried to help him, just maintained their pursuit of the woman.
They were gaining on her as she struggled through the water. She turned her head to see how close they were and let out another scream. This was the scream that got me moving. I burst out of my hotel room door and collided with an immensely fat man that was standing in the hallway. I bounced off him like a tennis ball, spinning sideways but managing to maintain my footing. I started to apologize but the words died in my mouth when he turned towards me and I saw his face.
Morgue grey is the only description I can come up with for the color of his skin, at least what I could tell from the weak emergency lighting. His eyes were solid red orbs, no pupil or iris visible. Black blood dripped from both ears and nostrils, and his lips were skinned back exposing bleeding gums. He took a lumbering step toward me, raising an arm in my general direction and making a sound that was half way between a snarl and a wet gurgle.
The nerve agent was here! I didn’t know if I could help him, but I knew I could help the woman in the swamp if I could just get past Shamu and to the fire stairs.
I slipped to the side and the fat man cocked his head as if he was tracking the sound of my movement, then swiveled his bulk towards me.
“Hey, buddy. I need to get downstairs to help...” I didn’t get to finish the sentence before his head snapped into direct alignment with me and he charged. Maybe stampeded is a better word given his size, but regardless, he was at least 400 pounds of beef on the hoof charging directly at me. A wet, gurgling snarl was coming from his mouth as he built up speed.
I remembered Max’s words, “the nerve agent is causing hyper aggression”, and that was sure what I was seeing. I dodged to the side, threw an elbow with all of my 230 pounds behind it to his kidney and danced backwards as he slammed into the wall with a crash that rattled the doors around us. Immediately from several of the rooms a clatter of fists banging on wood and the same wet, gurgling snarl started. I looked around to make sure none of the doors were opening behind me, then turned back to the mountainous threat that had righted itself and was coming toward me, showing no sign of injury from either my elbow strike or the impact with the wall.
The way to the fire stairs was now clear, and I could have run, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving this guy to shamble after me. Dancing to the side I leaned out and delivered a straight kick to the side of his left knee. The already overstressed joint gave with a wet snap and he collapsed to the floor, still snarling but showing no indication of pain. He tried to stand up, and when the ruined knee couldn’t support his bulk he started pulling himself towards me on the carpet with his arms. Now I turned and ran.
I hit the fire door at speed, trusting momentum to carry me through any threats that waited on the other side, but the stairwell was empty. I raced down the stairs, some of my speed fueled by the creepy encounter I’d just had in the hall, some by the thought of the struggling woman I was trying to save.
I hit the ground floor exit door with a bang and crashed into the parking lot. Thirty feet in front of me the parking lot ended at a grassy border where the swamp began. The woman was another fifty feet out in the water struggling directly toward me and started screaming for help when she saw me. The two men chasing her were closing the distance on their prey and I was too far away to tell if they were in the same condition as the fat man I’d just put down.
To my right in the parking lot were three more men who had been moving towards the woman’s screams but had now changed direction towards me. They were close enough for me to see the solid red eyes and hear the same wet, gurgling snarl coming from each of them. Oh shit!
Remembering how the fat man seemed to track me by sound, I froze in place holding my breath, but they kept coming, snarling continuously. Then the woman in the swamp screamed for help again and all three of them swiveled towards her and picked up speed.
They weren’t what I’d call fast, but they could cover a good amount of ground in a relatively short time. Their pace was probably comparable to an average person walking fast. I could easily move faster than them.
I met the eyes of the woman and even from a distance I could see the terror and fatigue in her face. She wasn’t going to last much longer if I didn’t do something. Looking around for any type of weapon, I spotted a sapling pine tree at the end of the building that had two large landscaping stakes driven into the ground supporting it. These are the thick wooden stakes that are about seven feet long, with
a sharpened point that looks like a pencil, driven into the ground and tied to a young tree for support.
As quietly as I could I stepped onto the grass, moved to the tree and started working one of the stakes lose from the ground. Apparently I made more noise than I thought because the man closest to me swiveled his head in my direction, then changed course directly for me. He was less than 10 feet away when the pole finally released from the ground and I ripped it away from the tree tie downs. Just like the fat man, his eyes were blood red orbs and blood trickled from his ears and nose. As I raised my weapon his pace didn’t falter and the blank expression on his face didn’t change. He just kept coming.
I planted my feet well apart for balance and swung the stake in a giant arc like I was trying to break open a piñata. It struck the side of his head and snapped off a good eighteen inches of its length from the impact. The man dropped like the proverbial sack of potatoes and lay still. I hoped he was down for the count.
The sounds of our scuffle had attracted the attention of one of the other men from the parking lot who was now heading directly for me. I’m a big guy at 6’2 and 230 pounds, but this guy had at least three inches and 50 pounds on me. There was no way I wanted to get into a grappling contest with him.
Risking a glance, I noted the woman had stopped moving and was sobbing as her pursuers from the swamp and parking lot closed the distance. Time was running out quickly. With few options I charged my attacker with the pole extended like a lance and buried the sharpened end into his stomach. There was a moment of resistance when the stake met his flesh, then I could feel the sharp point push through the skin and bury in his abdomen. This guy was finished.
