Dawn of the Rage Apocalypse

by Timothy W. Long

Frank freaked out as he ripped at his tongue. Maybe the spray didn’t affect his eyes, thanks to the mucus, but it sure as hell hit his mouth.

  We weren’t in the direct line of fire but I still felt, and worse, tasted, the pepper spray immediately. Elizabeth turned and sneezed while my eyes watered up. Pepper spray really lived up to its name. Want to know what it’s like? Stick your face in a bowl of finely ground black pepper and inhale.

  Good luck with all of that.

  Mitch grabbed my elbow to get my attention and gestured toward the Range Rover even as he wiped at his eyes. I followed his gaze and realized what he was saying.

  Then the woman from the apartment next to Frank’s came out of her door and that’s when stuff went really batshit crazy.

  Frank kicked the male officer in the head when he came off the man. It was like he had springs in his feet as he jumped. I was horrified as he crashed into the female officer and took her down next. Another siren pealed in the air. Great, more cops to sort this out.

  So far no one had ID’d us. They wouldn’t have so much as a license plate to go on, just a general likeness if the lady cop had been fast enough to get it out over her radio.

  “We should just go,” Mindy said. “Fuck this noise right in the ass.”

  “Yeah. Good call!” Mitch backed her up.

  “We’ve got to stop them,” Elizabeth pleaded.

  I don’t know if I was supposed to give the deciding vote or what, but I was all for going back home. We had done our job, found Frank, and Elizabeth would have to cough up the rest of the money.

  But fate had other plans.

  Frank beat at the female officer while her partner tried to pick himself up. Long furrows ran down his face and pooled with blood. His throat appeared to be swollen, judging by the red skin, and his left eye had partially closed from a blow.

  I guess Mitch had seen enough. He took out his rubber mallet, let out a little roar, and ran straight at Frank, who didn’t even see Mitch as he smacked him in the back of the skull.

  Frank’s head cracked to the side and he fell off the woman, but a scream behind us got my attention. The woman from upstairs leapt off the balcony and landed on the male cop two stories below. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed anyone could do that. She didn’t give a rip about her personal safety.

  “We need to get out of here!” I exclaimed.

  I didn’t even realize I had taken the axe out at some point, but I now brandished it, and found myself walking toward the crazy woman. The cop had been brutalized by Frank and now the woman tore at him. He tried to fight back, but it was clear he didn’t have a lot of fuel left in his tank. I could have smashed the woman in the face with the axe, but I worried about how it would look if the cop car cameras were catching all of the action. Sure, she was beating the shit out of the cops, but it would be a lot to explain if I killed her.

  So I followed Mitch’s lead from earlier and kicked her in the head. You’re welcome, Mr. Police Dude.

  She flew off the cop and hit the ground hard. The officer managed to pull his gun. He waved it at the woman as she tried to recover, then she spun her head, and it was clear that mucus had begun to develop around her eyes.

  The cop rolled over, dragged his taser out of his holster, and hit the woman with a full jolt. She slammed to the ground, but as soon as the charge ran out, she tried to get back up. He hit her again, and held down the button longer this time.

  Elizabeth grabbed my arm and dragged me back. The female cop rushed to her downed partner and leaned over to check on him.

  I gasped when I saw what was happening. Mitch had Frank Evans over his shoulder, while Mindy kept the hammer raised next to his head. Together they barreled toward the Range Rover. Elizabeth triggered her key and the door locks popped.

  Frank’s wallet slid out of his back pocket and dropped on the ground, so I scooped it up, and shoved it into my own pocket so I could return it to him later.

  Just as I thought the cops were going to turn and see us making our escape, the little girl from the second floor screamed in horror. She rushed down the stairs toward her mother’s body while the female officer ran to intercept her.

  Mitch tossed Frank Evans in the back of the Range Rover and piled in after him. Elizabeth was already in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. I slid into the front while Mindy got in the back. My ears rang, thanks to the adrenaline rushing through my body. The cops were going to open fire on us at any minute. They were going to block us from leaving. We were going to be arrested, tossed in jail, and that would really put a damper on my weekend plans to sit on my ass, and stare at whatever we ended up watching on Netflix, assuming we didn’t spend four hours arguing about what to actually put on.

  Elizabeth gunned the engine and the big truck leapt forward, rolled over the curb, crossed a small section of grass, rode over a sidewalk, and then spun to the right as we merged with traffic at a high, and very bumpy, speed.

  “Fuck yeah!” Mitch yelled from the back and pumped his fist against the ceiling.

  “She was infected!” I cried. “You said she wasn’t, but she had it. Did you see the mucus in her eyes?”

  “The police have her in custody. I’ll make a few calls and make certain that she is properly handled,” Elizabeth said. “Trust me. We have the resources to deal with this.”

  “What about the cops? They probably have it as well,” I argued, even though I felt a small sense of relief that Elizabeth had a plan.

  “We have entire teams ready and willing to take care of situations like this,” Elizabeth reiterated.

  Then why in the hell hadn’t they been called in to bring Frank in? Something was so not right in the land of rage Atlanta, but I needed money more than I needed questions answered at this point.

  Frank groaned so Mitch hit him again. I needed a drink. Good lord, but I needed a drink. My hands and arms shook as adrenaline raced around my body. My head still hurt from chugging shitty vodka last night so it was time for the hair of the dog that bit my ass. But the shakes were the worst of it all.

  “Please tell me you have some alcohol in the car?” I asked the doctor.

  “Of course. It’s in the glove compartment,” Elizabeth said.

  “Thank god,” I said as I popped the little door. It fell open to reveal a few packs of gauze, a small medical kit, and a blue bottle.

  “There it is.” Elizabeth pointed.

  I picked it up with a confused look. Elizabeth held out her hand.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s hand sanitizer. I imagine we could all use a squeeze,” she said with a smile and held out one hand.

  “I meant alcohol to drink!” I exclaimed, but I still squirted some into my hand and then gave Elizabeth a bit as well.

  “Center console,” Elizabeth said.

  “Oh, ha ha. I’m guessing I’ll find a larger bottle of hand sanitizer?”

  Much to my surprise I found a small bottle of brandy. I took it out with a shaking hand and spun the top off.

  “Not my first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers,” I said, and took a quick swig, grimaced, and then tipped the bottle back one more time.

  It burned, but I fought my gag reflex and kept it down. I couldn’t stop shaking as Elizabeth drove like a maniac. I was surprised at how cool and steady her hands were on the wheel. I’d been rattled, but she looked like she was going to the cleaners to pick up her dry cleaning. She took the bottle when it was her turn, gave me an unreadable side-eyed glance, and then took a couple of swallows before handing it back.

  “Oh goodness, but I needed that,” she said.

  “I guess we did good, huh?”

  “There’s a saying you Americans use, and I’m quite fond of it,” she said with a smile. “Good enough for government work.”

  “I don’t use that phrase, but whatever floats your boat,” I said.

  “Oh my. I like that saying as well.”

  Great. We had just kidnapped a guy aft
er hitting him over the head with a mallet, and now we were bringing him some damn where. As far as shitty mornings went, this one was right at the top. In fact, it kind of crushed all of the other bad mornings under a ton of dog poo.

  8

  All things considered, it had been a more or less successful mission, even if we had almost been jumped, partially eaten, and arrested, and in that order. I was still trying to remember if any of the cop cars had been pointed at the Range Rover, which would make us easy to find, assuming they ran the plate. But I could deny it all. I could easily turn to Mitch and Mindy and we would back up each other’s stories. Of course, it would be hard to make a case if we had all been caught on video.

  Note to self. Work on our common stories in case we get arrested and tossed into jail.

  “Where will you take him?” I asked Elizabeth as she headed back the way we had come.

  “To a laboratory where we can study him and test a vaccine,” Elizabeth assured me. “First, I’ll drop you all off at your home.”

  “It’s time for a cold one and a bong hit,” Mitch said.

  “We totally deserve it,” Mindy added.

  “But what about the attack back there? We have to let someone know, right? We left the scene of a crime. Not only that, but we may have left one of those ragers to kill a couple of cops.”

  “As we pulled away I saw the police subdue the woman.” Elizabeth tapped her rear view mirror. “I’m certain they are quite safe.”

  “Good. We did good,” Mitch said. “Let her get back to work, man. We saved the day. She probably has some videos to shoot.”

  “I’m not a pornographic actress,” Elizabeth snapped.

  Mindy snickered for a few seconds then leaned over and whispered something to Mitch. He cracked a smile, and then whispered something back.

  “Children,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath.

  I guess I felt like I needed to stick up for Elizabeth a little bit, and I also felt like it was my duty to give my friend a slice of humble pie.

  “Hey, Mitch. I have a question.” I turned to look at my friends in the back seat, drew my lips back from my teeth, and made an ‘ook-ook-ook’ noise.

  “What are you doing?” Mitch asked.

  “Who’s the naughty monkey?” I burst out with laughter.

  Mitch’s face face went from smiling to bright red and agonized as I pantomimed a chimpanzee.

  Mindy’s face grew equally red, but I wasn’t sure it was from anger or embarrassment.

  “Honestly,” Elizabeth said.

  “So anyway,” I said when I got tired of cracking myself up. “What are we going to do about that apartment complex? What if Frank came into contact with more people and they now have the thing?”

  “The moment I drop you off, I will be contacting one of our teams. Once dispatched, they will be on the scene within the next half of an hour,” Elizabeth said.

  “So where do we go from here?” I asked as Elizabeth pulled up to the curb.

  “Yeah. Like, do you need us to stay and keep this guy under control?” Mitch pointed toward the back of the truck.

  “Hey, guys. We need to get our stories in order in case the cops show up. We may be on camera,” I suggested.

  “We’ll get on that, yeah,” Mitch said. He had one arm over the back of the seat, and kept turning to make sure Frank wasn’t acting up.

  He had tied Frank Evans up in the back of the Range Rover while we passed the bottle of brandy back and forth. Mindy kept the rubber mallet ready to crack over Frank’s head. I tried to peer over the back of the seat and get a look at my old boss, but he remained just out of view. His smell didn’t. Goddamn, what a stench. Want to know what it smells like? Go get some Limburger cheese, rub it all over a smelly foot, and toss it in a pile of dog shit. Bingo.

  The smell was so pungent I almost wished for another dose of pepper spray to clear my nostrils.

  “I should be okay, and the lab isn’t that far away,” Elizabeth said as she pulled into our apartment parking lot and navigated the big truck into a spot.

  She pulled a wallet out of the middle console that had contained the brandy and opened a zipper. She counted out a number of bills and handed them to me. I quickly stuffed them into my pocket, but I realized that I hadn’t been so slick with the hand off, and now Mitch and Mindy knew I’d been paid for services rendered.

  “Handing out tips?” Mitch asked.

  “Talk to your friend.” Elizabeth smiled brightly. “Right. Out, you lot. I’ve a lot of work to do and not much time to complete it.”

  She waved before we could even get the doors open. Talk about being shooed out of a car.

  As I jumped down from the passenger side seat, I turned and leaned back inside. “You’ll call if you need anything, right?”

  “Of course. Now off with you.” She smiled and waved me off.

  The second the door had closed she was already in reverse, yanking the car around so she could speed out of the parking lot.

  “Well,” Mitch let the word linger. “How much money were we paid for that?”

  “Oh, you naughty monkey.” I ‘tsked’ him with my index finger.

  * * *

  Elizabeth had given me one hundred and fifty dollars so we split it three ways. I didn’t mention that the earlier money had also come from her. Then I handed over my share fifty to go towards rent, which almost got me squared away for the month. Best of all, I wouldn’t have to get a payday loan, and I had a little cash in my pocket. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the big fat goose egg that no doubt appeared in my bank account.

  Still, it sucked that I had to split the money with my roommates. They hadn’t known it was a paying job. Those two nutters thought we were going out to smash zombie skulls. Come to think of it, they hadn’t been wrong. I guess it was only fair that they were paid.

  We retired to our apartment and turned on the television. Mitch produced the plastic bottle of vodka I had ‘borrowed’ from the night before, and we passed it around along with a bottle of orange juice as a chaser. I was about to ask if Mitch had any weed when he switched the channel over to something local. Now this was how I had seen Saturday playing out.

  I sat forward as new images appeared on the screen. We had an old Sony tube TV because none of us could afford a nice flat screen. It had been my mother’s, but she and her new husband, Grey, had been able to buy an entire entertainment center complete with a projector and six foot long movie screen.

  “Dude. Turn up the volume,” I said.

  Mitch stared, slack-jawed, and didn’t seem to hear me. Mindy took the remote and cranked up the sound.

  “…details are still sketchy at the moment but we have reports of multiple fatalities at Emory University Hospital. What we do know is that a patient was brought into the hospital and may have suffered a psychotic break…”

  The woman continued to drone on that there weren’t any details yet, but they had a birds-eye view from a helicopter that zoomed in on the hospital parking lot where a couple of large white tents had been set up. It appeared that cars had poured out of their parking spaces, but then run into traffic and now sat.

  “That’s really fucking weird,” I said.

  “Huh?” Mindy asked.

  Mindy had located a small bag of pot from her purse, and packed some into a bong before reaching for her lighter.

  “It’s a hospital, but they have tents out front like they can’t keep up with demand.” I paused for a second. “At a freaking hospital.”

  “The hospital’s under quarantine because it’s been overrun with those rage things,” Mitch said. “I think that doctor was full of it. They didn’t stop the virus with one or two guys. This shit is viral as fuck and we’re all going to die. Not only that, but she completely downplayed what was going on at Emory.”

  “I should call her back,” I said.

  I dug out my cell phone and found Elizabeth’s number from where she had tried to repeatedly call me the night before.
I hit redial and listened as the phone rang, and rang, and rang.

  “Huh,” I said.

  The woman behind the news desk pressed her finger to her ear. “We have a statement from Police Commissioner Wallace.”

  “At approximately ten o'clock a.m., a person of interest was brought into the hospital suffering from an undisclosed condition. He attacked several patients and subsequently started a riot. While hospital security attempted to regain control of the situation, it quickly escalated. While the person has been subdued, the hospital is now on lockdown, and loved ones are urged to remain patient. We are not ready to rule out drugs and alcohol as the cause. Thank you.”

  Dozens of voices rose as questions flew but the commissioner walked away from the podium.

  “This is it.” Mitch turned away from the television. “All of that stuff at the apartment with Frank Evans this morning was a warm-up.”

  “So what are we supposed to do?” Mindy croaked as she leaned back and blew a column of smoke at the ceiling

  She handed the bong to Mitch and he lit up.

  “We should call Roger,” Mitch said as he also blew smoke. “He’ll know what to do. Dude is always going on about the end of the fucking world, and here it is.”

  Someone banged on the door.

  “Your girlfriend’s back,” Mitch said.

  “She’s not my girlfriend. Not yet, anyway. Just give me time and that fine English girl will be,” I said with one hundred percent guy bravado that was one hundred percent bullshit. I couldn’t land a girl like that if I won the lotto.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Look what the hundred pound jungle cat dragged in,” Mitch said as Roger strolled into the apartment.

  Roger wore camouflage clothing that appeared to have come straight out of a U.S. Army catalog. His shirt bore pockets under a vest that had even more pockets.

  “What the fuck does that even mean, stoner-boy?” Roger demanded.

  Roger and Mitch didn’t really get along, but they were both my friends, so I think they tolerated each other when we were together, but they would probably be at each other's throats if they ever tried to hang out without me.