The Camry’s fiberglass bumper struck the faceplate of Private Danielson's hazmat suit at forty miles per hour, pulverizing it and pushing the shards deep into the shattered remains of his face. The left side of the car bounced off the ground as it rolled over his body, tossing the occupants around like ragdolls. Ray struggled to regain control of the car. It fishtailed across the garage service road, hit the curb on the opposite side, then sideswiped the chain-link fence that ran along the building’s property line. The right front tire buckled and blew out, forcing the car to careen back onto the service road. Ray kept his foot on the accelerator, muscling the car onto the main road and driving for about a half mile before finally allowing the car to limp to a stop. “Is everybody ok?” he asked, peering into the rearview mirror.
“Where the hell did you learn how drive, the circus?” Crystal said, “You had us smashing into each other like a load of dirty laundry.”
“I'm sorry. We were going so fast and I had trouble controlling the car with one good arm, and then that soldier…” Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I think I may have killed him.”
“You think?” Crystal said, “You hit him going what, fifty miles an hour? Nobody survives that.” Crystal’s tone grew somber, “Anyway, fuck that guy. He shot Jamarco, killed him in cold blood.”
“Yeah,” Ray added, “and he shot that other guy too. What was his name?”
“Jeremy,” Crystal said.
“Yeah, poor Jeremy. Neither one of them deserved to die like that.”
“We have to get going,” Moji said, massaging her temples with her fingers, “we can't just sit here crying about things we can't do anything about. We...We have to find the queen.”
“Mo, when did your fingernails get so long?” Crystal said.
Moji quickly folded her hands in her lap. “That’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a side effect of the...the…” she closed her eyes tight and winced.
“Mo, you alright?” Crystal asked.
“My head is pounding, but I'll be ok. Let's just go please.”
“Side effect of what?” Ray asked.
“Huh?” Moji said.
“You started to say that the way your fingernails look were a side effect of something. A side effect of what?”
“I...I don't know.”
“Well, whatever it is, all three of you got it,” he said as he put the car in gear.
Crystal looked at her hands. Her nails, while not as long as Moji's, had formed into the distinct claw-like shape. “What the hell?” she said, shocked that she hadn't noticed it beforehand.
“It’ll be just fine sweetheart,” Wilma said, “you just wait and see.”
As she finished her sentence, they heard a low, deep humming noise coming from the west.
Ray stuck his head out the window then pointed at a dark spot descending out of the sky. “It’s an airplane.”
“It’s flying so low,” Moji said, “is it crashing?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Ray said. As it passed overhead, the plane, a big commercial airliner, flew low over the park, then banked and headed toward downtown, following a cloud of thick, black smoke spiraling up from the eastern horizon. “I’ve seen one of those before. It’s a DC-10 air tanker. They use it to drop a shit load of water on wildfires.“
“All that smoke must be coming from downtown,” Moji said.
“If they need one of those then downtown must be a mess,” Ray said.
Wilma looked worried. Her face was pressed against the left side passenger window, her eyes fixed on the deserted park across the street. “We ain't safe out here in the open,“ she said, “the unborn, they be awake soon enough.”
“There she goes again,” Crystal said, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation, “spouting stuff nobody understands.”
“I'm pretty sure I know what she's talking about,” Ray said, “I don't know what an unborn is but if it's anything like the thing I saw then she's right, we ain't safe.”
“Look around Ray,” Crystal said, incredulous, “there's nothing out here. No people, no animals, no boogeymen, no nothing.”
Ray turned around in his seat to face Crystal. “That's just it. Think about it Crystal, we just experienced a major fucking catastrophe. Something blew the city to shit. Where are all the people? We’ve been out here for five minutes and haven't seen a soul. No survivors, no first responders, not even any dead people lying in the street. Nothing. Don't you find that kind of strange? I mean, we live in a city with millions of people, you would think we would run into a few of them.”
“I don't know, there could be lots of reasons why we ain't seeing a lot of other people. During hurricane Ike, I remember the streets being completely deserted because everybody was told to stay indoors. And if you recall, we did run into a couple of first responders. You killed one of them, remember?”
“Ok ok,” Moji said, holding up her hand for silence, “that's enough. I trust Wilma and if she says we shouldn't be out here then we shouldn't be out here.”
“Well, we’re following your gut Mo,” Crystal said with a tired sigh, “where should we go?”
“Yeah,” Ray said, “you said something about finding some queen. Is that someone you know?”
“I’m...I’m not sure,” Moji said, “I know downtown is out of the question. Ray, can you cut through the park? The medical center is on the other side, maybe we’ll see some people over there. Wilma, what do you think?”
“We have to find the queen,” Wilma said blankly.
Crystal threw up her hands in disgust, “Well, there you go!”
Ray stepped on the gas and the car moved but pulled hard to the right, forcing him to lean on the left side of the steering wheel to keep it on the road.
“What’s wrong with the car?” Moji asked.
“I think we messed up the right front tire pretty good when we hit the curb,” Ray said.
“We’re not that far away,” Crystal said, “let’s go back and get my car.”
“No,” Moji said, shaking her head, “it’s too risky. There were two soldiers. We know one is...gone, but we don’t know what happened to the other one. He could be calling for reinforcements as we speak.”
“I think we can make it to the medical center,” Ray said, “it’ll be slow going, but at least we won't have to walk.”
“I’ll sit up front and help you hold the steering wheel,” Moji said. She opened the back door and got out of the car. Once she was outside she thought the air smelled pungent, like burnt eggs and raw sewage. “The air really stinks,” she said.
“I don't smell anything,” Ray replied, sniffing the air from his open window.
“Really?” she said, wrinkling her nose, “It smells like something died.” Before opening the front door, Moji looked at the damaged tire. It was completely flat and bent awkwardly in the wheel well. She opened the door and jumped in next to Ray. “The wheel is broken. We might not get very far.”
“Let's find out,” Ray said, and he slowly depressed the gas pedal. The car shuddered and began to limp forward. They guided it onto Hermann Park Drive, a winding, two lane road that bisected the park. The car jerked and hobbled along at barely twenty miles an hour. When they got approximately three quarters of the way through the park, the damaged wheel locked up and began to squeal and smoke. It was only with considerable effort, and help from Moji, that Ray was able to keep the car in the center of the road. A blue-white smoke that smelled of burning rubber began to pour in through the car’s ventilation system, filling the interior.
“Stop the car!” Crystal said, coughing, “I can't breathe this shit anymore!”
Ray brought the car to a halt and everyone, except Wilma, spilled out, eager to get away from the acrid smoke.
“Miss Wilma, come on out before you choke to death,” Crystal said, extending a hand to Wilma.
“Lordy,” Wilma said, wheezing as she took Crystal's hand, “I ain't as young as I used to be. I can't just jump ou
t a car like you young folks. I needs some help.”
They had stopped next to the main parking lot of the Houston Zoo. The lot was full, as was the auxiliary lot on the other side of the street. Crystal helped Wilma out of the car and led her over to one of the many picnic tables that were spread out over the grass knolls that surrounded the parking lots. Wilma sat down on the bench and tried to catch her breath, inhaling then coughing up a thick wad of phlegm that she promptly spit into the grass at her feet. Moji and Ray joined them at the table after Ray had spent a few minutes inspecting the damaged tire.
“The car is toast,” Ray said, “bearings are shot, rim is bent, and the rubber is just about cut in half. We're going to need another ride.”
Crystal scanned the parking area. There were hundreds of cars, many with their doors open. “Why can't we just pick one off the lot? The owner’s ain’t around to stop us.”
“We still need keys,” Ray reminded her, “unless you know how to hotwire a car or want to spend the rest of the day searching each vehicle hoping to find keys in the ignition.”
“We're not that far from the medical center,” Moji said, pointing to the intersection of Hermann Park Drive and Cambridge street, about two hundred yards distant, “we can probably walk the rest of the way.”
“Angel, it will take me a good while to walk all that way,” Wilma said, “and I don’t think I can outrun those unborn like you young people could.”
“Wilma, what are you talking about?” Crystal asked, “There’s nobody around but us.”
“Oh, they is around alright, I can feel them.”
“Uh, ok, whatever you say,” Crystal said.
Suddenly, there was loud screeching noise. Ray thought it sounded like a baby screaming. “What the hell was that?”
“It came from inside the zoo,” Moji said.
There was another scream, louder than the first, and this time it was followed by a distinct and familiar trumpeting sound.
“I don’t know what made that first noise,” Crystal said, “but the second sound was definitely an elephant.”
The sounds grew louder and more frequent as other animals added their call to the chorus.
“Ok, that doesn't sound natural,” Crystal said, worried, “why are they suddenly making all that noise?”
Wilma’s eyes grew wide. “The unborn!” she screamed, “They coming!”
“What? Where?” Ray sputtered.
“I...I can’t think,” Wilma said, burying her head in her hands, “there’s too many.”
“Shit!” Crystal said, jumping up from the bench, “We gotta hide! Let’s get back in the car or in one of these other cars. We can lock ourselves in.”
“No!” Wilma said and then took several breaths to calm herself, “No car is gonna stop them! We need to be moving! We have to go before they gets here!”
“Then we have to get back in my car and make it go,” Moji said, “we have no choice.”
“We can make a run for it,” Ray said, “there are buildings up ahead, on Cambridge street, we barricade ourselves in, find something to use as weapons...”
“We can’t do that!” Moji said, “We can’t leave Wilma behind!”
“Well, what else are we supposed to—” Ray began, then suddenly stopped talking and squinted his eyes, looking toward Cambridge street. “Hey, I think I may have found us a ride,” he said and he started to run.
“Where you going!” yelled Crystal, “You can’t leave us!”
“Stay here!” Ray shouted as he was running, “I’ll be right back!”
“I’m going with you!” Crystal shouted back, and she took off running to catch up with Ray.
“Crystal!” Moji said, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to help Ray!”’ Crystal said without looking back or slowing down.
“Angel,” Wilma said, “I’m scared, but I can’t go, I’m too old! Leave me be, catch up with your friends and find the queen before she makes it all go wrong.”
Moji sat down next to Wilma and put her arm around her. “Wilma, I am not leaving you. I’m staying right here. Crystal and Ray are coming back, I promise.”
“Angel, I sure hope you’re right,” Wilma said as she snuggled closer and buried her head in Moji’s neck, “‘cause the unborn, they waking up.”
“Everything will be alright, don’t you worry.” Moji could see Ray and Crystal in the distance. They were circling one of those utility company trucks, the kind with the basket attached that lifts a worker up to work on overhead electrical or telephone lines. It looked like Ray was trying to figure out how to get inside. “See, look!” she pointed at Ray and Crystal. “See there Wilma, they aren’t leaving us! Ray is trying to get us another vehicle.”
Wilma lifted her head off Moji’s shoulder, but she didn’t look to where Moji was pointing. Instead, she pointed toward the zoo, at the path that skirted past the zoo entrance and meandered along its border, disappearing into a thick orchard of broken and upended oak trees.
“Angel, look!” Wilma said.
Moji followed Wilma’s finger and saw, slicing through the trees like a wave of churning water, a large pack of dogs.
43
Saul barely heard the knock on the suite door over the constant drone of humanity that filled the stadium air. “Enter,” he said, as he gazed through the wall-sized window onto the stadium floor several hundred feet below, where a triage area had been set up to tend to the tens of thousands of injured by the blast effects of the bomb. I don't care what those stupid squints think, he thought, this shit is definitely the work of the Russians and I intend to make them pay for it.
First Sergeant Josephine Peters opened the door and walked into luxury box suite 232, now General Adams' private quarters, with a small three ring binder under her arm. “Sir!” the First Sergeant barked while standing stiffly at attention.
“At ease First Sergeant,” Saul said, “and close the door. That incessant buzz is driving me crazy.”
“Yes sir.”
“You got good news for me?”
Josephine was nervous. The word was General Adams was prone to lashing out at the bearer of bad news, especially if the bearer was a woman. She closed the door and placed the binder on his desk. “Sir, these are the debriefs from the first series of missions to secure the evacuation zone perimeter.”
“Just give me the highlights, I’ll read the details later.”
“Yes sir,” Josephine said, clearing her throat, “roadblocks have been established at all highway and secondary roads leading in or out of the contamination zone, with ground, air, and drone surveillance teams covering the gaps. Decontamination teams have swept and secured sectors one through twenty-five with the rest expected to be completed by seventeen hundred tomorrow.”
“Not good enough First Sergeant, we need to have the perimeter secured by sunrise. As if I don't have enough shit to worry about, the BOTUS is scheduled to grace us with her presence at zero eight hundred tomorrow. The Joint Chiefs are expecting me to deliver good news.”
Josephine stood silently, her hands clasped behind her back, feet shoulder length apart. Her eyes looked past the general’s stare and through the tempered glass wall behind him, where thousands of survivors were crowded together, crawling on top of one another and the stadium seats like ants. She wasn't from this area and she didn't have any family here, but she still felt a pang of grief and anguish wash over her as she watched them search for comfort, for loved ones, for any measure of normalcy. General Adams is an asshole. He casually disrespects the president and her office by referring to her as the Bitch of the United States because he can't stand being told what to do by a woman. He looks out that window and doesn't see people suffering, he sees statistics, just play pieces in his game of how to make himself look better than everybody else.
“First Sergeant, are you paying attention?”
“Yes sir.”
Is there anything else of significance to report?”
“U
m, yes sir.”
“Well, spit it out.”
“Yes sir. In two separate incidents this morning, one at four thirty and the other at eight hundred hours, decontamination teams Bravo-six and Tango-nine were killed in action.”
Saul’s face stiffened. ”KIA? How the fuck did this happen?”
“Sir, Bravo-six was securing sector forty-eight when a large pack of dogs approached them from the west and began to aggressively engage the team. Despite killing several dozen of the animals, they were overwhelmed, forcing them to fall back to an open highway, using abandoned cars as cover. Another group of animals then attacked their position from the east and they were overrun.”
“Overrun? You're telling me that the team couldn't handle a few wild animals?”
“Sir, according to the report, Bravo-six was the victim of a coordinated attack involving hundreds of dogs.”
Saul slapped his palm down on the plastic folding table that served as his desk hard enough to launch every item resting on it a half inch into the air. “You've got to be fucking kidding me!”
“That’s what the report says, sir.”
“And what did Tango-nine do to get themselves killed, get overrun by a horde of contaminated cockroaches?”
“No sir. After what happened to Bravo-six, an alert was sent to all the remaining teams in the field to be aware of the new threat. Tango-nine was responding to a shots fired notification in their sector when they encountered a pack of dogs engaged in an attack on two citizens. They were able to terminate the animals but one of the two civilians was badly mauled and died at the scene. The other civilian escaped injury, was inspected for signs of infection, and was cleared. Corporal Higgins was escorting the civilian to a nearby building when the civilian suddenly turned and attacked him, biting him in the neck and severing his artery. He bled out before reinforcements could arrive.”
“What was the rest of Tango-nine doing, having coffee?”
“No sir, Private Danielson and Swanson witnessed the attack but were in full hazmat gear, making it difficult for them to respond quickly.”
Saul buried his face in his hands and used his thumbs to slowly massage his temples. “Why were they in full hazmat gear?”
The Scourge Page 35
