by D. C. Gomez
“If she were a full Intern, her actions would at least be regulated and tracked. Major experiments would be contained in secured locations. We would be able to put a stop to it at any moment,” Constantine told us.
That made sense. Pestilence people were scientists and, like most scientists, they liked to collect data and analyze it. This was a total fiasco.
“At least I can blame this apocalypse on Pestilence. We are tired of getting all the heat for the dark ages.”
Before I could ask him to explain about the dark ages, Constantine jumped off the table. “Bob is ready. Don’t be late.” Last words he said as he walked out the door.
“Isis, I know this is hard for you, but please don’t blow up Texarkana.” Eric was looking at me thoughtfully.
“First of all, last time it was not me. That was all Constantine.”
Eric stared at me. “Isis, you’re a magnet for crazy, outrageous things to happen. Try to keep the city in one piece.”
I was not going to convince Eric at all. “Fine, I’ll do my best,” I replied.
I was proud of myself I didn’t roll my eyes while I was talking to him. “Got to go.” I gave him a lazy hand wave and headed out the door. I was pretty sure if I stayed any longer, I was going to say something mean to him. I needed to focus on the mission, not try to convince sexy Eric that I was not a menace to society.
CHAPTER 28
I never realized the obsession we have as a society to name things. In Texarkana, every apartment complex, regardless how small or run-down a place it was, had a name. The apartment complex across from TX was called the Windsor Place Apartments. The Windsor Place Apartments on North Robison were not very fancy, but they catered to the students in the area. I gave the campus a quick look, noticing a lot of joggers on the trail. Bob made a sharp left and parked at the end of the complex.
There were a lot of people out and about for a Friday morning. Bob and I had dressed in combat gear again and I didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention. We lowered the windows in the Storm and I quickly hooked up my recording; the goal was for people to avoid the area and be confused. I was getting good at finding songs that fit the mood I needed. It was impressive the amount of stuff you could find online now. Bob put his earplugs in, just to be on the safe side. Death said anybody working at Reapers should be immune to my music. Unfortunately, we found out that extensive exposure gave the boys horrible headaches.
The music was playing and we were out of the truck. Bartholomew was taking care of any cameras in the area. We decided to bring only handguns and paintball guns. With all the crazy active shooters running around the country, we were trying to make sure nobody called a SWAT team on us. We dashed to the second floor. The stairwell led up to two units, one on the right and one on the left. The door on of the left was filthy and covered in spider webs.
“What do you think?” I asked Bob.
“I can’t believe anyone is staying in that one. Let’s aim right.” Bob was right. I gave Bob one last nod and he kicked the door open. I had my gun ready and burst through the doorway.
“Ahhh!” screamed a naked girl from the couch.
“Oh God!” screamed a half-naked male boy.
We were prepared for a horrible scene, just not this kind. Two teenagers making out was not on my list of things to find. I felt terrible for the boy; he went limp from fear. This was so embarrassing for everybody. We needed to do a better job at recon from now on.
“OK then, obviously we are in the wrong apartment. Do you know a Fred that lives in this complex?” I lowered my gun, perfectly aware they were not armed, not even with courage. The boy couldn’t say any words. He just stuttered.
“Across the walkway.” The girl was at least able to speak and point.
“Great, thanks.” I was ready to be out.
“Shouldn’t you two be in school?” Bob asked the couple. I wasn’t sure who was more shocked, them or me.
“Ah.”
Well, we were back to one-syllable words from the teenagers, if that was technically a word.
“Answer me.” Bob was dangerous and mean. He was glaring at them.
The boy finally spoke. “We skipped school, sir.”
I was glad he found some courage, but if Bob kept this up, they were going to have an accident in the middle of the room.
“Is this what you want for your future—no education, babies, being irresponsible, and wasting your lives away? You’re too smart for that. Remember this face because I’ll be watching you two. You better get straight or I’ll be back and it won’t be pretty.” Bob gave them one long look before heading out the door. The kids looked like they were going to die.
“Trust me; it’s for your own good.” I pulled my paint gun from my holster and shot them. After Bob’s little stunt, I couldn’t leave them to call the cops. I left the apartment and closed the door. “Do you know those two?” I asked Bob when I was standing next to him.
“Nope. But I will now.” He gave the apartment another look.
“Are you planning to go around scaring kids straight in Texarkana? What are you, the Rock?” I didn’t think the youth population could handle Bob and the whole underground watching them.
“You know, that was a really good idea he had for a show.” Bob was smiling at me. “Besides, I couldn’t let that opportunity go to waste. Who knows, if I scared them enough maybe they’ll do something amazing with their lives.”
I was sure. Like never have sex, join a convent or monastery, or become hermits. I figured it was safer not to tell Bob that.
“Good job, you did scare the hell out of them. Constantine would be proud.” I tapped him on the shoulder and smiled. My boys were nuts. “Should we try this again? Let’s see what we have behind door number two.”
Bob gave me a quick nod, looked around, and kicked the door open. I was starting to wonder what the doors in Texarkana were made of. Bob did that way too easily. I took a deep breath and dashed through the doorway. We entered the apartment’s living room and kitchen area. The place was dark, cold, and smelled of incense and something rotten. There were potpourri bags everywhere. The place had a layer of dust over all the horizontal surfaces.
“What in the hell?” Bob said from behind me. I was starting to like the teenagers’ situation so much better.
I didn’t dare walk in. The place looked like a tomb or haunted house. Bob pulled out his flashlight. Nothing was moving. It was like nobody had been here in ages. I found a light switch. I flipped the switch and slowly walked in. I didn’t want to disturb anything.
“Should we check the bedrooms?” Bob asked me.
I did not want to go in any deeper. Unfortunately, Bob was moving down a hallway already. Staying at the door was just as bad as following Bob.
“Bob, there’s something wrong with this place,” I whispered. Even talking out loud felt wrong here.
“Which part gave it away? The smell or the destroyed furniture?”
I was so busy looking at all the weird bags on the floor, I hadn’t bothered to notice the furniture.
It looked like a wild beast had been loose in here. I was now in full paranoid mode. I took my 9mm in my right hand and my paint gun in the left. It looked ridiculous, but after six months in Constantine’s training camp, I could shoot with either hand. Not to mention I was pretty good at holding my own in a fight, guns or no guns.
The hallway wasn’t very long. We passed a small bedroom on the left and a bathroom on the right. The bedroom was used as a storage space. Boxes upon boxes were piled everywhere. Bob kept moving toward a closed door. I stepped into the room and checked in one of the boxes. I found a few empty bottles labeled “P Laboratories.”
I guessed we’d found Pestilence’s lost virus.
“Isis, you might want to see this,” Bob said from the hallway.
“Holy Jesus Christ.” I made a quick sign of the cross. That was a common Catholic prayer, where you used your thumb and index fingers crossed in the shape of a c
ross, and then did a cross over your body. I started at the forehead, down to my heart, then across to my left shoulder, and ended on my right shoulder. I did that on reflex when something was bothersome. This took my breath away.
A man, or what was left of a man, was chained to the bed. Not the kind of stuff in Fifty Shades of Gray. More like the stuff you saw in medieval torture chambers. He looked emaciated. Bob walked over to one side of the bed and I walked to the other side. The man was lying in his filth. It explained the temperature of the apartment and all the potpourri.
“Dead?” For his sake, I was hoping he was.
“Let’s find out,” Bob poked the man’s leg.
The man woke up and started thrashing around, howling and trying to bite me. I jumped back at least two feet and shot him in the chest. Fortunately for him, I pulled the trigger on the paint gun. I worked for Death, but I wasn’t interested in being mauled by a deranged zombie.
“Not dead,” Bob spoke from his side of the bed.
I glared as I tried to get my heart rate to slow down. “No kidding,” I told Bob, shaking my head. “I’m assuming we found victim one.”
“At least we know she only has love for her work.” Bob was right about that. “How long do you think she’s been keeping him here?” That was a really good question and I had no clue.
“I don’t know, but I hope Eugene can figure that one out.” I walked back out into the hallway. “That girl needs some serious help.”
“Isis, I’m afraid she’s past that point. If you’re willing to do that to your boyfriend, there’s nothing you won’t do to others. She needs Jesus—or maybe Buddha.”
“That is too creepy.” I was getting the chills here. “OK, if you call Shorty, I’ll call Reapers. We need Eugene to get his lab ready for this one.”
“Works for me. Do we want Shorty to take the boxes?” Bob pointed to the storage area.
“That would be great. I’m sure Pestilence wants whatever is left of her stuff back. He can come back later for those. I don’t want Shorty hanging out with mummy over there any longer than he needs to.” The last thing I needed was for Shorty to get attacked by the first zombie. Who knew how tough he was? “By the way, have we given Shorty a gun?”
Bob’s eyes got huge. I held up my paint gun to make the point.
“Oh, one of those. You scared me for a minute.” Bob needed to give me more credit. I didn’t trust Shorty with the truck; I for sure was not giving him a gun. “Not sure, but I’ll tell Bart to issue him one when he drops off friendly over there.”
“Good. At this rate, we need all the help we can get.” I pulled out my phone.
“Bart the Greatest at your service. Internationally known and ready to make all your needs into a reality.”
I rolled my eyes. “Bart, what are you talking about?” I needed to start monitoring what the boys did when I wasn’t around.
“Trying out my sales pitch. What do you think?” Bartholomew was a little too excited now.
“It depends. Are you opening up a dating service or becoming an arms dealer?” I was afraid of the answer.
“Neither.” Thank the Lord for that one. “Still working on my products,” Bartholomew replied, a little distracted.
“In that case, let’s wait for the slogan till after you finish your business plan.” Twelve-year-olds were easily distracted. What happened to the robot obsession?
“Okie dokie.” Bartholomew was in much better spirits and not bothered at all. “So, did you find the boyfriend?”
“We found a body. Tell Eugene to get ready; he’ll be getting a visitor.” I was not sure how to describe him.
“Eugene is out,” Bartholomew said, still reasonably cheerful. “He got an emergency call from one of his people. He took Ladybug to meet him.”
“He’s meeting them somewhere not in the lab?” I said, full of panic. This was not good.
“Yeah, why?” Bartholomew heard the change in my voice.
“Bart, I need you to load the coordinates of Ladybug to my phone. Try to get ahold of Eugene. Hurry, he’s in trouble.”
“Got it,” Bartholomew replied and hung up.
“Bob, we got to go. I think Eugene is in danger.”
Bob didn’t need too many explanations. We were running out the door as fast as possible.
CHAPTER 29
According to Bartholomew’s coordinates, Ladybug was parked at Rocky Point Park, at Wright Patman Lake. From Texarkana College, it was going to take us at least twenty minutes to get there. I wasn’t sure if Eugene had that much time. Bob tried to follow the speed limit through town, but let loose once we hit the highway. I hadn’t asked why he picked Storm for his truck and now I didn’t need to. Storm was a force to be reckoned with. We were going at least ninety and the ride was smooth.
“Bart, tell me you found him.” I had Bartholomew on the speaker system in the truck. We were hoping he had good news because we had reached Ladybug and the area was deserted.
“I tapped into one of the satellites, but I’m only getting vague information. I could send the drone out.” If Bartholomew wasn’t picking up something concrete with all his toys, it was not a good sign.
“No, we don’t have time to wait. What do you have?”
“In your area, I got two bodies about one kilometer heading east from your direction.” I started playing with the GPS in the truck to see what the terrain was in that direction.
“Isis, the cliffs are in that directions.” Bob said faster than I could find it. “What’s your fastest run?”
“Not pushing it, about a seven-minute mile.” It wasn’t Olympic running, but for being late twenties, I was ecstatic about it.
“OK, we’re about point six-two miles away. You need to push it. Leave the guns and the machete; I’ll be right behind you. If you’re right, it might be too late for Eugene.”
Bob’s words were hard to handle. I liked Eugene; he was becoming family. I took a deep breath; we had no time to panic. I nodded to Bob, left everything in Storm that would slow me down and jumped out.
My sense of direction was always pretty good, but recently it was amazing. Constantine’s theory was that Death’s gift was augmenting all my talents. That was a creepy notion, but today I was praying he was right. I oriented myself and took off. I needed to run over half a mile in under three minutes through rough terrain. I wasn’t sure if I needed to pray to God or Death, but I needed speed.
I knew I was flying, but those were the longest seconds of my life. My lungs were burning. I felt the wind beating on my face and the branches cutting into any bare piece of skin they could find, but I couldn’t stop. I jumped over logs and took turns sharper than my mind believed possible. When I finally burst through the trees into a clearing, the accountant was pushing Eugene off the cliff.
“Noooo!” I screamed. I was running toward the cliff before I could stop crying. The accountant was slipping away.
“What would you do, little girl? Save your friend or get me? It’s all about the job, you know.”
Did she think there was an option here? I kept moving toward the cliff as she walked away.
Eugene was dangling from a rope. The rope was tied to some limb that was slowly breaking. This chick had some serious issues. It wasn’t enough to hurt people; she wanted to play with them before she killed them. Maybe she was part cat? I stopped wondering about the insanities of the accountant and grabbed the rope before it broke. Eugene was flailing like a madman. I couldn’t pull him up; he was a lot heavier than he looked.
“Eugene, stop shaking,” I yelled down at him. “I can’t get a grip on this rope.”
“Isis, is that you? I’m going to die!” He screamed the last part. It was a good thing he wasn’t next to me because I had the urge to slap him.
“Eugene, shut up! You’re not going to die. Stop shaking so I can pull you up.”
I was losing ground. I had no traction and I was getting tired. Maybe I needed to add strength training to my running regiment.
“Isis, where are you?” I heard Bob’s voice from behind.
“Bob, over here! Hurry, I need help.” After so many near-death experiences I was no longer ashamed to ask for help.
Bob rushed out of the wooded area and came sprinting over to me. He was out of breath and sweating like crazy. After this, I was sure Constantine was adding more running to poor Bob’s life. I felt terrible for him. He tossed the rifles over his shoulders and grabbed the rope.
“I got him. Did you see the accountant?”
We were slowly pulling Eugene up.
“Yeah, she went north,” I told him as we pulled.
“Good. Go after her. I got Eugene.”
I wasn’t sure how he did it without dropping the rope, but he managed to pass me my M16. “Are you sure?” I didn’t want to leave them alone. Bob just gave me a glare and I took off.
Fortunately for me, the accountant was a little narcissistic and underestimated people. She wasn’t moving very quickly. I was able to catch up with her at another parking area in the park.
“Stop!”
She had reached her vehicle, a very sensible Nissan.
“Well, look at you. Still doing the dirty work for Death’s Intern.” She had a smirk on her face.
“What? Woman, please. I am the Intern.”
Her mocking smile turned to surprise at my words. “Now that is delightful news. I’m impressed. Hearing Pestilence talk about her sister, I figured she was just as bad as her. Maybe all is not lost.” She was inspecting me up and down as she spoke.
“I’ll make sure to pass the news to Death.” I refused to lower the rifle.
“It’s a shame you will die, but Pestilence will know she made a mistake by passing me over twice. She’ll beg me to come back. I’m the better Intern.” She was truly demented.
“Lady, we need your formula, so step away from the car.”
She laughed at me. “Or else what? What are you going to do, kill me?”
The accountant laughed again and got in the car and took off. I wasn’t sure what to do I had left my paint gun in Storm, so I took a couple of shots at the back window with my M16. The glass exploded, but she kept driving. By the time my brain started functioning, I had started shooting at the tires. It was too late; she was gone. Oh God, what have I done? I dropped to the ground shaking. I had a panic attack and I couldn’t calm down. I closed my eyes, feeling my throat constricting. I was afraid I was going to pass out.
