The Scourge

by R. Tilden Smith

  41

  The stairwell door creaked closed as Jeremy made his way carefully and quietly through the makeshift barriers he and Jamarco had set up after the explosion blew out most of the windows in the lobby. He didn't have a weapon and he wanted to avoid attracting any undue attention to himself until he could assess good guy from bad. I sure hope the good guys are the ones holding that machine gun, he thought. He was halfway past the bank of open elevator doors, headed toward the parking garage entrance, when, behind him, he heard the creak of the stairwell door. That better be Jamarco. To be safe, he decided to take cover in the shadow of a small stack of folding chairs and wait.

  The sun was just starting to sprinkle into the building, splashing through the trees that divided the park from the street at the main entrance, and washing the whole lobby in a dusty yellow glow. Jeremy grew nervous as the footsteps he heard drew near, the steps in time with the wobble of the elongated shadow that glided by his hiding place. He crouched and stayed on the balls of his feet, not sure if he would fight or fly, as his mind conjured monsters from shadow’s contours. The approaching shadow widened, swallowing up the remaining sunlight that skipped across the white marble floor. Jeremy was poised to tackle the shadow’s owner, to gain the advantage of surprise, when a boot came into view. Jeremy tensed then relaxed as a wave of relief swept over him. He recognized the boot—it was Jamarco's.

  “Hey,” Jeremy whispered as he stepped out of the shadows to intercept Jamarco.

  “What!” Jamarco said, falling backward in surprise. “What cha doin’ man, scarin’ me tah death like dat?”

  “I'm sorry Jamarco,” Jeremy said, “I thought you might be a bad guy.”

  Jamarco took a deep breath. “Have you seen the girls?”

  “No, but all the noise seems to be coming from the parking garage. I bet that's where they went.”

  Jamarco nodded in agreement and followed Jeremy as they made their way to the northeast corner of the building where the parking garage entrance was located. This part of the lobby was still shrouded in shadow, there was no natural light except for where it leaked in through the vestibule, the glass-enclosed passageway that separated the building from the garage. The vestibule was purposely utilitarian in design, just a simple glass-walled box that cut through the thick, waist high shrub of jasmine planted as a fragrant buffer between the garage and lobby. The interior doors to the vestibule were glass, and although closed, Jeremy could clearly see that there were several people with their backs turned to him, kneeling so that they were hidden behind the bushes that pressed against the outside of the glass wall. They were looking out into the garage area. He stopped and pointed at the entrance, whispering to Jamarco, “There they are.”

  “What are they doing?” Jamarco whispered in reply. “And who is that man with them?”

  Jeremy hadn't noticed at first, but there was definitely a fourth person in their group. “I have no idea,” he replied.

  Those in the vestibule were so focused on whatever it was they were looking at that they didn't notice the two men approaching until they were almost at the glass doors. When Wilma saw them she immediately began gesturing with her hands, rapidly waving them up and down—the universal sign for get down and get out of sight. Jeremy and Jamarco instinctively complied with her request, ducking then crawling the last few feet to the vestibule entrance. Still on his knees, Jeremy reached up and grabbed the door handle, opening the door partway so Jamarco could crawl in. Before he followed, a thought suddenly occurred to him, Why haven't Moji, Crystal, or the man acknowledged our presence? They're staring out into the garage like they're in some sort of trance. Curious, he lifted his head just high enough so he could see over the bushes and into the parking lot in the direction where the three were looking.

  “Get down!” Wilma said in a shrill whisper, “Get down before they see you!”

  Jeremy did as he was told but not before getting a good look at what was going on—a military vehicle parked at the front gate and two individuals in hazmat suits, armed with guns, walking in their general direction. He swung the door open and crawled into the cramped space. “Ok, is somebody gonna tell me—” were the only words he got out before a burst of semi-automatic gunfire in the parking lot forced him to throw himself flat on the floor, covering his head with his arms as bullets ricochet off the concrete. Shouting followed by more gunfire could be heard outside.

  “Has the whole world gon mad!” Jamarco said as he crawled over and sat next to Crystal, who still knelt at the wall, trance-like, with her nose pressed against the glass, staring out into the garage. “Crystal, are you ok?” he asked, touching her cheek lightly with the back of his hand. Crystal flinched, turned and stared at him, then did something he didn't expect—she launched herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted her lips firmly over his. Jamarco was caught off guard. Crystal pushed him gently to the ground, her right hip grinding steadily but firmly into his crotch. He felt her breath, warm and moist, in his mouth, her tongue searching for and finding his. He wanted to push her off of him, tell her this was wrong, that they were in the middle of a crisis, that she was a married woman, but he couldn't do it. For some strange reason, it felt right. The tension left his body and he relaxed. He let his hand move up the back of her thigh and under her skirt until it rested on the crest of her bare buttock. She moaned and parted her legs slightly, inviting him to explore further. He moved his hand inward, his fingertips searching for the seam of her panties...and suddenly his pleasure was supplanted with pain.

  His neck was on fire as Crystal sunk the tips of her fingernails into his throat, breaking the skin and drawing blood. His legs jumped and began to shake but he was otherwise paralyzed. His thoughts leapt from excitement to revulsion to fear as Crystal broke their kiss, her lips sliding up his cheek, stopping briefly to caress his earlobe, before whispering into his ear. “Protect your queen,” she said. The words meant nothing and everything at once, his mind was a jumble of images and emotion. The pain in his neck intensified and spread, flowing up and down his body, until his mind retreated from the pain, taking with it his sanity. “Protect your queen,” she whispered again, and this time the command was understood. “I must protect my queen,” he replied, unsure of what action he would take but knowing he would be willing to die to fulfill it. “Go, Jamarco,” Crystal told him as she sat up, releasing him from her embrace, “protect your queen from her enemies.” Jamarco sat up. He could hear the soldiers in the parking garage, still shouting and firing their weapons. He stood up and looked out into the garage in time to see Thomas collapse to the ground, his body falling across the legs of another soldier.

  “Go, distract the men with guns, give us time to escape.”

  It was Moji who had spoken. Jamarco felt her eyes on him and he was filled with an awe and reverence such as he never felt before.

  “Go now,” she commanded.

  Jamarco stepped toward the exterior door and realized that someone else was already there waiting for him.

  It was Jeremy.

  Jamarco noticed blood dripping from puncture marks on Jeremy's neck. Jeremy turned and looked at him, his stare bereft of recognition. Jeremy pushed the door open and ran into the parking lot, and Jamarco, without hesitation or forethought, followed close behind.

  42

  Moji knelt in front of Ray and Crystal, put one hand on each of their shoulders, and gently shook them. “Hey, are you guys ok?” Moji said, “We have to go, we don’t have much time.”

  “Moji, what in the hell just happened?” Crystal said. She was sitting on the floor of the vestibule with her back against the wall. “Last thing I remember, we filed into this vestibule, saw that asshole Thomas talking to some military guy in the parking lot surrounded by a bunch of dead dogs, and you told us to stay down so they wouldn't see us. That's all I remember. The next thing I know I'm sitting on my butt, my back’s against the wall, and the crotch of my panties are soaking wet.”

  “Lordy,
” Wilma said uncomfortably, “we in some kind of fix.”

  “I feel strange too,” Ray said, “my head hurts. I feel like I lost some time. Did I black out?”

  “Listen everyone!” Moji said, “We need to get to my car before those soldiers find out that we’re here. I don't know how long Jamarco and Jeremy can hold them off before they come looking for us.”

  “Jamarco and Jeremy?” Ray asked, “Who are they?”

  “I...I seem to remember talking to Jamarco just now,” Crystal said, confused, “wasn’t he in here with us just a few minutes ago?”

  “No,” Moji said, “they must have come downstairs, gone out the front of the building, and walked around to the garage entrance.” She poked her head up above the bushes just high enough to take a quick survey of the garage. “See, they’re at the gate, talking to those two men right now.”

  Crystal and Ray both got up on their knees to take a look, then sat back down.

  “Those guys have on hazmat suits!” Ray said, “That means they’re worried about being contaminated. That's not a good sign. Maybe we should reconsider venturing out.”

  “Ray,” Moji reminded him, “we all have already been outside, so whatever they’re trying to keep from catching we already caught it.”

  “Not necessarily,” he said, “maybe it’s radiation and we’ve only been exposed to a little of it so far. If we stay out here we might be exposed to a lethal dose.”

  “Why are we hiding in here anyway?” Crystal said, “I mean, we came out here to be rescued, right? Aren't those guys here to take us to safety?”

  “I don’t think they’re being rescued,” Ray said, “what I saw looked like an interrogation, their hands were behind their heads and the guys in hazmat suits had their guns trained on them.”

  “Lordy, no no no,” Wilma said, shaking her head, “those army men not come over here to save us. They is here to kill us!”

  “I don't think I'm ever going to understand what this crazy lady is talking about,” Crystal said, “why would the United States military want to kill us? We're not terrorists.”

  “Angel,” Wilma said, clutching Moji’s hand, “we have to get outta here.” She glanced in Ray and Crystal’s direction. “These two don't have the understanding that you do. They killed the she-devil but there is plenty more. We must find the queen before she grows too strong.”

  “Does she always talk in riddles?” Ray asked.

  “Unfortunately,” Crystal said.

  “Ok enough!” Moji snapped, “We don't have the time for me to explain what's going on and even if we did, I don't know if I understand it fully myself. All I know is that I have a very strong urge to get out of here and find something, or someone, before it’s too late, and I need you three to help me. Will you help me?”

  “Yes,” they all responded in unison.

  “Oh god!” Crystal blurted, “can we please stop saying shit at the same time! It's driving me crazy.”

  “Ok, is everybody ready?” Moji said, “My car is not far. We go out the door and to the left. It's the silver Camry in the second row.”

  “Where are the keys?” Ray asked, nervously scratching his injured arm, “Or are you going to break in and hot wire your own car?”

  “No, of course not. The car isn't locked and the keys are in the glove compartment. I don't really use the car that much so Mr. Sims, the security guard, offered to drive it every so often so the battery would stay charged.”

  “Is it gassed up? I’m pretty sure we aren't going to run into any open gas stations.”

  Moji frowned. She hadn't thought about that. “I don't know how much gas is in it. Let's cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  Why don't we take my car?” Crystal said, “I got a fill up before I drove to your house, and I got the keys right here,” she tapped the outside of her bag.

  “We can't use your car,” Moji said, “because it's in visitor parking which is near the front gate. We can't get to your car without being seen by the soldiers.”

  ”Aren’t they going to see us as soon as we step through those outer doors?” Ray said, “It’s a clear line of sight between the doors and the gate.”

  “Follow me Ray,” Moji said, then she jumped to her feet, being sure to stay in a crouch well below the height of the jasmine bushes, and crossed to the other side of the vestibule. She carefully raised her head so she could get a good view of the far side of the garage. She gestured for Ray to do the same. “See that silver Camry, the last car in the second row?”

  Ray nodded.

  “I want you to make your way over there then drive the car over here to us. We’ll jump in the backseat.”

  “That's gonna make a lot of noise,” Ray said, “wouldn't it be safer for all of us to go to the car together?”

  “Wilma can't move as fast as the rest of us. I don't think she would make it. We have a better chance if you bring the car to us.”

  “Ok.”

  “Hold on,” Moji said, “let me see if the coast is clear.” She took a peek at the gate entrance. The soldiers had their backs to them and one of them was talking into some sort of device, maybe a radio. Jamarco and Jeremy were facing in her direction, their faces were blank, conveying very little emotion. They had their hands outstretched in front of them with their fingers spread apart. Moji lowered her head then glanced at her own fingers. Her nails were long, longer than she's ever remembered them being, and the edges drew together until her nails ended in sharp points that curved ever so gently toward her palms. The tips of her nails were tinged red, like she had dipped them in a port wine. She quickly wiped her hands on her pants until her nails showed no sign of the offensive stains. There was a memory, just at the edge of her consciousness, that she knew would inform her about what those stains were and how they came to be on her fingernails. She chose to ignore it. “The soldiers are preoccupied with Jamarco and Jeremy. If you go right now they won't see you.”

  Ray nodded his head in agreement then slowly opened the vestibule outer door and stepped out into the garage. Moji’s pulse quickened. For a few seconds Ray would be completely exposed. If the soldiers happened to turn around, he would be spotted. She watched as Ray scurried across the vehicle lane and hid amongst the first row of cars, crouched between a late model Volvo and one of those new, canary yellow Mustangs. Moji breathed a sigh of relief, the soldiers hadn't seen him. Ray nodded at her and moved away, weaving in and out of the first row of cars, then quickly crossing another open traffic lane and ducking between two cars in the second row. “Ok, get ready,” she told Crystal and Wilma, “we’re going to have to move as fast as we can once Ray starts up the car. We won't have much time. Crystal, you go first and open the back door of the car when Ray pulls up. Wilma, you’ll go next so Crystal and I can help you into the car. I'll jump in last. Ok?”

  “Lordy, I don't know if I can do this,” Wilma said.

  “You're gonna do just fine Miss Wilma,” Crystal said.

  “I hope so sweetheart, I hope so.”

  They heard the car’s engine cough and then roar to life.

  “Get ready!” Moji said, “Crystal, don't open the doors until the car is right outside.”

  “Duh!” shouted Crystal over the roar of the engine and the squeal of car tires. “I got this.” She looked at Wilma. The old woman was terrified. She reached back with one hand, “Hold my hand Miss Wilma.”

  Wilma grabbed hold of Crystal's hand. “Oh lordy protect us,” she said.

  Fifteen seconds later, the silver Camry screeched to stop at the vestibule exit. Crystal pushed open the glass door and ran toward the back door of the Camry, pulling Wilma along with her. She reached for the Camry’s door handle just as she heard two gunshots to her right. She swung the door open then flung Wilma into the backseat head first. She looked toward the front gate and saw Jamarco stumble backwards and collapse to the ground. “Jamarco!” she cried.

  The soldier that shot Jamarco aimed his rifle at Crystal but was tackled to t
he ground by Jeremy before he could get a shot off. The gun flew out of the soldier’s hand and skittered across the pavement. Jeremy threw himself on top of the soldier and they began to wrestle, rolling back and forth across the vehicle entrance.

  Crystal started to run toward the gate but Moji grabbed her arm. “Crystal, get in the car!” she screamed.

  “We gotta help Jamarco! He’s hurt!” Crystal cried.

  “We can't help him! Get in the car now!”

  “What are you doing!” Ray said. “Let’s go, before you get us killed!”

  Two more gunshots echoed through the garage. Ray watched as one of the soldiers shot Jeremy twice in the gut. Jeremy rolled off of the soldier clutching his stomach, the front of his shirt blooming a bright crimson.

  Moji yanked Crystal back towards the open car door. “Get in!” she said as she twisted Crystal’s arm forcibly behind her back then used her other hand to push Crystal’s head into the car. Moji dove in after her and slammed the car door shut. “Go!” she screamed at Ray.

  “You ain't gotta tell me twice,” Ray said. He floored the gas pedal, the car’s tires spun wildly on the slick concrete, leaving behind a thick trail of white smoke and black rubber as it accelerated toward the front gate.

  Private Carl Danielson pumped two hollow point slugs into his attacker at point blank range. “Eat shit you zombie bastard!” he said as the man fell over fighting to keep what remained of his intestines from spilling out on the concrete. He rolled over onto his knees and spun a half turn to face the car he could hear accelerating toward him. He knew there wasn't enough room between the armored personnel carrier and the gate post for the car to go around him. They were going to have to run him over to get out. I can't let these fucking zombies get loose, he thought. He swung his sidearm up, hoping to get one good shot at the driver.

  He wasn't fast enough.