The Scourge

by R. Tilden Smith

  “Yes sir!” they both barked in unison.

  “First Sergeant Peters is your superior officer. From now on you will refer to her as such.”

  “Yes sir,” they said again.

  “Excellent. Now you two limp dicks get the fuck out of my vehicle and hightail your asses to the Cambridge Street intersection up ahead. Start your sweep in the buildings on the southeast corner and work your way back to us. We got about two hours to search all the buildings on this block.” He tapped his radio. “Check in every ten minutes. Get moving!”

  “Yes sir!” they said as they jumped out of the vehicle and jogged off toward the intersection.

  “I could've handled that myself, you know,” Josephine said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Brady replied as he stepped out of the vehicle and onto the car-clogged street, “but I'm running this fire team and I get the pleasure of busting me some E4 ass.”

  A smile broadened behind Josephine's mask. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

  Brady returned her smile. “I hate those fucking specialists, especially when they’ve been stuffing themselves on General Adam's misogynistic bullshit. I love knocking their little chicken wings off the perch he puts them on.”

  “I’m not one to deny a man his fun,” Josephine said as they weaved their way through the hundreds of fenders-benders that littered the streets around the medical center area, “but I don't get many chances to earn my respect. General Adams promotes the women under his command because he has to not because he wants to, so we don't get many leadership opportunities. I'm only out here now because the unit is so short-handed due to the uptick in attacks. He rather keep us girls barefoot and serving coffee, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I get it. Next time, I’ll let you emasculate those dick wads.”

  “I'd appreciate that,” she said. Quite unexpectedly, she flashed Captain Lewis her most inviting flirtatious smile. It was difficult to tell with the way light bounced off the Captain's faceplate, but she thought she saw his face turn an uncomfortable red. Why in the hell did I do that? she scolded herself. Joe, stop kidding yourself, you know the answer to that question. Captain Brady was easily the most drooled over guy in their unit. He was handsome in a George Clooney-ish kind of way, with an old-timey gentlemen's demeanor. He was always the hottest topic of conversation in the ladies quarters. Even as a lesbian, she found it difficult not to swoon just a little bit in his presence. Admit it Josephine Peters, you're lonely and depressed, that's why you’ve resorted to hitting on straight married guys.

  Growing up, she was never allowed to be comfortable with her sexuality. Being gay in the mostly military town of Waynesville, Missouri was taboo, so her teenage years were spent in the closet, filled with confusion and depression. She feigned interest in the advances of the small town boys, who took a fancy to her Abercrombie and Fitch cropped hair and petite frame, while she secretly masturbated to pictures of the high school cheerleading squad. Her emancipation came when, at eighteen and straight out of high school, she enlisted in the army. There, she met her savior and soulmate, Carolyn Devin.

  Carolynwas everything Josephine was not; confident, strong, and fearless. Sheltered and isolated in her little town, Josephine had never met anyone like Carolyn. It was love at first sight, and with Carolyn by her side, she came out and let the world know it. Inseparable other than when she was deployed overseas, she and Carolyn have been together for over ten years. She, pursuing a career in the military, while Carolyn played the role of the dutiful military spouse, maintaining a safe place for Josephine to return to after a long stint in the testosterone-filled world of military life.

  Being under the command of, and then working directly with, a misogynistic homophobe like General Adams, has oftentimes strained her resolve to the breaking point. But Carolyn was always there to put salve on the emotional wounds, to encourage her to press on and strive for greatness. Finally, at her promotion ceremony to first sergeant, Josephine found the courage to ask Carolyn for her hand in marriage. When she said yes, Josephine's heart exploded with happiness. But all our carefully laid plans were blown to shit when the meteor came and made a mess of things. The enormity of this disaster and suffering that she's witnessed in the short time she's been here has made her miss Carolyn more than ever. She was home safe in Missouri but it was unclear when Josephine was going to be able to get back there so they could get married. God, I miss my love! Dealing with these fucking pricks day in and day out is wearing on my nerves.

  There was a tap on her shoulder. “Earth to Sergeant Peters.”

  “Huh?” she said.

  Brady shot her a quizzical look. “I said, I need you to recon the upper three floors of this building. Start at the top and work your way down. I'll start down here and go up. We’ll rendezvous on the fourth floor, near the elevator lobby. Got that?”

  They were standing in front of a seven story hospital mid-rise, one of many in the medical center complex.

  “Should we be separating?” she asked. Josephine had seen photos from some of the attacks. She did not want to get ripped to shreds by some crazed deformed maniac.

  “No, but we need to clear these buildings before we lose daylight. We can cover more ground if we split up. Don't worry, just keep your comms open, you’ll be fine.”

  “I-I don't think splitting up is a good idea.”

  “I don't remember asking your opinion First Sergeant. Besides, you said you wanted the opportunity to fortify your reputation. Well, this is it.”

  Josephine sighed and nodded. “Yes sir.”

  “Ok, let's do this.” He switched on his M4 carbine's weapon light and entered the building’s vestibule, pushing open the inner doors with his shoulder. Josephine followed him into the main reception area. The white tile floor was covered with medical trash and overlapping stains of dried blood and other unidentified fluids.

  “Looks like this lobby was used as a triage area,” Josephine said.

  “”Yeah,” Brady said, “a lot of the hospitals were too heavily damaged or didn't have adequate diesel backup power to keep them operating for very long. We had to abandon the medical center and evacuate the patients to the football stadium.”

  “I read about that in the reports. My unit hadn't arrived yet. You were here for that?”

  “Yeah,” Brady said, “my reserve unit was training at Ellington field when the meteor hit.” He paused, then continued with an edge of sadness in his voice. “It was chaos. Nothing but the dead and dying everywhere you looked. We tried to save as many as we could but...yeah…we lost a lot of people last night.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “You know, I did two tours in Iraq. I saw a lot of death, more death than one person should see in their lifetime, if you ask me. But I was able to deal with it because, in my mind, they were the enemy. They weren't like us, they were the bad guys. This meteor thing is different, you know? These are my people lying broken and bleeding in the street, not some faceless insurgents. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Now, because of some fucked up superbug, we’re being forced to hunt down American citizens, our own people, and put them down like rabid dogs because we can't figure out how to cure them. I didn't join the army to kill Americans. It's not right.”

  Josephine was afraid to speak. Brady's eyes were glassy, they held that faraway look. It was look she had seen many times in the mirror; a look of doubt, regret, and anger. She waited for the moment to pass.

  “I'm sorry Sergeant,” Brady said, “it wasn't right for me to clutter your mind with all my garbage.”

  “No, it's alright,” she said, “it just means you're human, which is more than I can say for a lot of the military men I’ve met.”

  This time it was Brady that flashed the knowing smile. “My typical band of brothers would see it as a sign of weakness.”

  “Well, I don't see it that way.”

  Brady pointed the business end of his rifle at t
he stairwell door at the end of the elevator bank. “Thanks, I appreciate the empathy. You obviously have the listening ear of a leader, now go show me that you have the guts.”

  “Yes sir.” She turned on her weapon light, opened the stairwell door a crack, and pushed the barrel of her rifle into the darkened stairwell.

  Brady glanced at his watch. “See you on the fourth floor in thirty minutes.”

  Josephine nodded and stepped through the door.

  49

  The smell of shit and rotten eggs was overpowering.

  “Alright, who farted?” Ray mumbled. He curled his lip to the pain. Speaking made his head hurt. He leaned his head back onto the driver's side window. Shit! Feels like I stepped in front of a wrecking ball.He touched his aching forehead. It felt swollen, like half a baseball had been taped to his skull. The contusion was wet. He pulled his hand away from his face and moved it back and forth to bring his fingers into focus; there was blood smeared across his fingers and onto his palm. Somewhere outside, he thought he heard snarling dogs and squealing pigs. Pigs? he thought, Why do I hear pigs? The thought lifted the last wisps of fog from his mind and his situation suddenly became crystal clear. He was leaning against the driver's door of the truck. No, he thought, I'm not leaning, the whole fucking truck is tilted. The front windshield was mostly gone; now there was a man-sized hole punched into it. A view of the bayou appeared from the shattered edge of the windshield and curved away into the distance. The truck was parked on the concrete embankment, close to the water’s edge. Someone moaned. It was Moji. She and Crystal were untangling themselves from the deflated airbag hanging from the passenger side dash.

  “Crystal, are you ok?” Moji asked as she pulled herself off of Crystal's back and braced herself against the passenger door to keep from rolling toward Ray.

  “Yeah, I don't think anything is broken,” Crystal said. She crawled out from under the passenger side dash and plopped herself down on the seat between Ray and Moji. She flicked an index finger in Ray's direction. “Damn Ray, did you know somebody hit you upside the head with a baseball bat?”

  “Crystal, we don't have time for jokes,” he spat, “we are still in deep shit. Don't you hear those noises? It’s coming from the top of the embankment, on the other side of the bayou. It’s gotta be those monsters.”

  Crystal was suddenly alert, her head shifting toward the hole in the windshield to get a better view of their surroundings. “Is that what that smell is, and that pig squealing sound? Are they coming after us? We need to...oh my god!” Her hand flew over her mouth and she pointed out the window. “Oh my god!” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

  Moji lifted her head so she could see past Crystal. Lying just outside the trucks left bumper, there was what looked like a pile of old rags tossed on the concrete. A dark liquid drained from the pile and flowed into the bayou, staining the brown water with an oil slick of red. Tentacles of gray and black hair lay across the pile like frayed rope. It was a few seconds before Moji recognized it for what it was. “Wilma!” she screamed. She tore at the door handle and forced the door open, throwing herself out the vehicle and onto the embankment. “Wilma, oh my god, Wilma!” she said, reaching Wilma's crumpled body in a few short steps. She knelt down and carefully cradled Wilma's head in her hands. “Wilma...Wilma?” she said while gently wiping blood from Wilma's face.

  “Angel?” Wilma said, her voice reduced to a low, painful whimper.

  “I'm right here Miss Wilma,” Moji said, her voice quivering with grief, “you be still now, ok? Me, Ray, and Crystal, we’re gonna get you some help. You hear me Wilma?”

  Wilma’s lips bent in a closed mouth smile. She slowly moved a hand to Moji's face and used her long fingernail to wipe a tear from Moji’s cheek. “Child...listen to your Wilma Mae...this host is finished and my time on this world has come to an end. You and I have conquered heaven...lived many a lifetime!” She managed a soft cackle. “We’ve seeded a billion worlds. We believed our kind to be a blessing of the cosmos...but our ways have become a curse. Angel...my Angel...we have lost our way...our queen's reign must come to an end. Find her Angel...find her and end the transition so that this world can flourish. You don't need me, trapped in these old bones, slowing you down. You have what you need...follow your love...” She took one last stammered breath, shivered, and then was still.

  “Wilma! No no!” Moji cried, “Don't leave me!” She pulled Wilma's lifeless body into her lap and held it. She felt a touch on her shoulder.

  “She's gone,” Ray said, “let her go.”

  Crystal had stayed by the truck, reluctant to approach Wilma's broken body. She scanned the crest of the embankment, where the sound of the battle being waged between the dog pack and the creatures was loud and getting louder. “Moji, I'm sorry about Wilma, I really am, but those things sound like they're coming this way. I don't want to be stuck down in this bayou when they come over that lip.”

  “Crystal's right, we should take off,” Ray said.

  “I-I don't know,” Moji sobbed, “we just can't leave her here like this. We have to take her somewhere, you know, and give her a proper burial.”

  “We ain't got time for that!” Crystal said, in a sudden angry outburst. “You either come on or we’re gonna leave your ass! Tell her Ray, we leaving, right?”

  There was movement at the top of the embankment.

  Ray looked up as several of the creatures began to shuffle their way toward them. The steep slope of the embankment and the creature's uncoordinated movements hampered their progress, but if they didn't go now they would be surrounded. “Moji, baby, I'm not going to leave you here, but we gotta go. Please don't make me carry you.”

  Moji lowered Wilma's body gently to the ground, then arranged the old woman's long salt and pepper locks evenly around her head. Moji didn't understand her feelings. Why do I feel such grief for a women I don't really know? she thought. The bad thing knows, Lara said. Moji shook her head to ward off Lara’s intrusion into her thoughts then stood up.

  More creatures appeared along the embankment's horizon, threatening to cut off any path to escape.

  “Fuck both y’all.“ Crystal said. “I'm gone.” She turned her back on them and began to run up the embankment at an angle, aiming for spot that seemed clear of danger.

  “Crystal wait!” Moji screamed. Both she and Ray turned to give chase when suddenly, from the opposite direction, they heard a sharp bark.

  Moji stopped. She knew that bark. “Tyson!” she said. She turned, looked, and sure enough, there was Tyson, standing on the concrete slope, about fifty yards distant, near a bend in the bayou’s wall.

  Tyson barked several more times without moving, each one more urgent than the last.

  Follow your love. Wilma's last words echoed in Moji's head. “Tyson wants us to follow him!” Moji said, “”Crystal, come back! Tyson wants us to go this way!” She turned and ran toward Tyson. Ray turned to follow her. “Come on Crystal!” he said, waving for her to follow.

  About thirty yards separated Crystal from Ray and Moji’s position. A horde of the creatures were quickly filling the space, soon Crystal would be cut off, with nowhere to run except in the direction she was already traveling or into the water. “Fuck!” she said, as she turned around and began to sprint back toward the truck. The noise the creatures made—a low to high pitched squeal—was so loud that it hurt her ears. A few of them were already more than halfway down the embankment, she angled toward the water's edge, hoping to get around the creatures before they intercepted her. “Ray! Moji! Help me!” she screamed as she ran, but they were too far ahead of her, unable or unwilling to turn back to help. Three of the creatures closest to her seemed to respond to her voice and redoubled their effort to reach her by attempting to speed up on their ill-fitting legs. Two of them tripped over their own feet and fell over, rolling the remainder of the way down the embankment and into the water. The third one, however, was able to retain its balance and now turned to block he
r path. Lord Jesus help me! she thought and, hyped up on fear and adrenaline, she plowed full speed into the stumbling abomination, hoping to knock it off balance before it could get ahold of her.

  She hit the creature with her forearm, driving it up under its chin, knocking it backward and off its feet. They danced in the air, their arms and legs kicking and clawing for purchase as they fell to the ground. Crystal landed on top of it; its face only inches from hers. It thrashed and kicked like a frightened infant, then Crystal stared in horror as the creature opened its mouth and emitted a terrifying squeal. Inside, Crystal saw two rows of interlocking serrated teeth and, where its tongue used to be, a coiled tube with a barbed tip, twisted and writhed as if it had a life of its own. She pushed away from it, digging her nails into the creature’s neck. The sharp tips of her nails punched through itsskin, forcing jets of black fluid to gush from the wounds. The creature squealed again and ripped its claws across Crystal’s back, tearing deep grooves into her flesh. She screamed and threw herself off of the creature, rolled, then quickly scrambled to her feet. Then, almost immediately, the pain in her back subsided and time seemed to slow down. Just for an instant, as she watched the life drain from its body, Crystal felt something akin to sympathy for the monster she’d injured. She felt its fear and loathing, it's desire to die and to be put out of its misery. She didn't know how, but she knew a human soul was trapped somewhere deep within that grotesque shell; a soul unable to break free from an eternity of unspeakable agony. She blinked, and the feeling passed just as quickly as it arrived. Ahead, she glimpsed Ray, Moji, and Tyson disappear around the bayou's bend. “Wait!” she screamed and ran after them. More of the creatures were descending into the trough, lumbering down the embankment in staggered waves. Oh God, there's too many of them! Crystal thought, I'll never get through! She slowed to a stop. She was surrounded. “Ray! Moji!” she screamed, “Please help me! Please!” She fell to her knees and covered her face with her hands. The smell of the monster’s blood made her gag, but she did not pull her hands away. Dear God, she prayed, I don't want to die! Please Lord, let me live to see my babies again. The squealing grew so loud she thought the creatures must be right on top of her. She kept her eyes shut tight. Jesus, just let it be over quick.