by RM Brewer
Tears splashed off Jodie's balled fists lying in her lap. "Her parents? Her parents are dead, Chuck."
Chuck's hand enveloped hers in a firm grip. "I know."
Jodie felt his hand tighten to almost an uncomfortable level and looked up at his face. His jaw clenched, his eyes wild, Chuck started to shake as he pulled his hand away.
"They're here," he said.
"You mean they, as in the virals, they?" Fester asked.
Chuck nodded and looked up. He pressed the button to open the sunroof and unbuckled his seatbelt.
"What are you doing?" Jodie asked.
"Just gonna take a look," Chuck said.
As he poked his head and shoulders through the opening, Jodie could see him close his eyes.
"Fester, no matter what, you keep driving, okay?" Chuck said.
Fester nodded. "Uh, yeah. Okay."
Chuck's eyes remained closed as he tilted his head back, a screech the likes of which Jodie'd never heard. It seemed as if it had built in his gut, then poured from his opened mouth. She clamped her hands over her ears and saw Fester trying to do the same while keeping one hand on the wheel.
Then she saw them. The virals poured out of the landscape toward the roadway, sprinting, stumbling, staggering, spitting and lurching. From above, they must have looked like a sea of ants, all converging on a common destination. They jumped from behind rocks and cactuses, pushing and shoving as they made their way ahead through the hot sand.
"Fester, don't let off that gas," Chuck said.
Jodie could see the boy's hands shaking.
"Yes, sir, I won’t," Fester said.
"You might want to cover your ears, if you can," Chuck called through the sunroof, just as the virals piled up along the roadway, bowing and screeching as the truck passed. They filled the road, sprinting behind the truck, each voice adding another ear-splitting decibel to their collective roar.
Jodie turned around in her seat to see the majority of the mass of virals keeping up with the truck. Those who couldn't were left behind in a trampled mush. Dressed in their human clothes, what they must have been before the infection took hold was apparent. Businessmen, mechanics, farmers, the entire medical staff of a hospital, their white coats dressed in blood and gore, moved in unison, following, not relinquishing the distance between them and Chuck.
Thousands upon thousands lined the roadway and ran over the hillside toward them. Men, women, children without parents to care for them, trampled in the mad dash to reach Chuck. Jodie looked up at him and felt the tears roll down her cheeks. His arms spread open wide, his hair flowing in the wind, with his eyes closed, Chuck was bringing his flock together. She could feel his power coursing through her and across the landscape. It was a sensation she’d never known and it was all-encompassing, empowering and debilitating at the same time, a force that could conquer anything. His expression surprised her. Pure joy radiated from his face.
Jodie hoped his expression wasn't evidence of his true feelings for what they were seeing. She turned to Fester and reached up to touch his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
Fester nodded and glanced at her, his face wet with tears. "There are so many."
Jodie squeezed his shoulder. "Yes. Thousands."
"The little kids . . . " Fester trailed off into a sob.
"There's nothing we can do, except help them get their revenge on Gypsum. With Chuck, only we can do that, Fester," Jodie said, hoping she could bolster Fester up enough for him to keep going. After all, it wasn't as if they had a choice.
"I'm okay. It's just . . . the kids. . . The turn off is coming up, Chuck," Fester called up to his friend.
Chuck bent down to talk to Jodie. "Call Claire and tell her we're almost there."
Jodie nodded, marveling at him. She wondered what the old Chuck would've thought of the new one. Certainly, no one would believe this sight. Bringing out her phone, Jodie wondered how Claire would react to the strange looking man protruding from her sunroof. Claire picked up on the first ring.
"Hello," she whispered.
Jodie knew she was in trouble. "Are you okay?"
"Jodie, there's a horde of virals here," Claire whispered. "I didn't see them coming, but suddenly, there were thousands of them. Ever since the first few showed up, more have been running across the desert and joining them. I had to pull over on the shoulder. I didn't know what else to do. There's so many of them and they're standing by the side of the road, waiting for something. I know they saw me, but it seems like they're just ignoring me."
Jodie could hear the tremors in Claire's voice. She looked up at Chuck. "She says there are thousands waiting."
Chuck nodded. "Tell her to stay in her car. We'll pick her up."
"I heard that," Claire said. "Who is that?"
Jodie didn't know if anyone would believe her if she told them. "An old friend. A very wonderful old friend," she said. "Like he said, stay in your car. We'll see you soon."
"Jodie . . . I don't . . . can you stay on the line?" Claire said, her voice shaking with fear. "It's just that . . . well, they're everywhere."
Chuck looked down at her. "I'll tell them to move," he whispered.
"Sure, Claire. I'm right here," Jodie said.
"Wait, they're leaving, I think. They're moving away from my car. What's happening, Jodie?" The pitch of Claire's voice was rising and her breath quickening.
"I can't explain it right now, so you'll have to trust me. You'll be safe." Jodie hoped she was right about that, but she sensed that Chuck had everything completely under control for the time being.
"There're children and old people," Claire said, her voice cracking. "A little girl is standing all alone, about fifty feet from me, holding a stuffed animal and growling. I've never seen anything like this."
"I see her," Fester said. "I see her car."
Jodie was relieved for Claire. She knew what it felt like to be all alone, surrounded by virals. "Fester, let's switch when we stop. I think I'm good to drive now."
"You sure, Jodie?" Fester asked, deflated.
"Yeah, I'm sure," she said. "You did a great job, but I think you might be more useful with that gun of yours if we run into Gypsum. Okay by you?" Jodie knew Fester would drive them right into the heart of darkness, with no thought for himself. But, she was going to look for an out for him and Claire before it was all over, whether they liked it or not.
"Yeah, sure," Fester said, his spirits seeming to lift a little.
Chuck lowered himself to the passenger seat. "Pull up alongside her car," he said. "You two stay inside while I get her."
Fester crawled over the center console and Jodie moved past him as they swapped places. He slid over and grabbed his rifle, standing it between his legs. Moments later, Claire was sitting safely in the seat next to him, her mouth agape at the sight of Chuck sitting in the front seat. She didn't seem to know what to make of the almost seven-foot tall man.
"Okay, let's get going," Chuck said. "There's another group on the way that we don't want to run into."
Jodie put the car in gear and they started to move. "Another group? Another group of virals?"
"Yeah," Chuck said. "And they aren't very friendly."
"And these are?" she asked, gesturing to the crowds of virals staggering along the shoulder.
"Well, yes, relatively speaking,"
Jodie wondered what they were going to run into next. She glanced in the rear view mirror, seeing Claire's mouth still wide open. "Agent Claire Hathaway, meet Officer Charles Wending and Fester Martin."
Claire's eyes grew even bigger. "Wending? Did you say Wending?"
Turning in his seat, he extended his giant hand to her. "Just call me Chuck . . . I'm just Chuck. There's no need to be scared."
Claire hesitated at first, then took his hand.
"It'll be okay now," Chuck said.
Jodie wondered if anything would ever be okay again, but was glad for the comfort Chuck was giving Claire. Trying to take her mind off of what was happeni
ng, Jodie asked, "Where did you pick up the SUV? It looks like it's been through a battle."
Claire pulled her hand back from Chuck. "I stole it. Well, kind of had to take it from the airport in Reno. We were being overrun and a soldier helped me."
Chuck cleared his throat. "Ma'am, that's a 503. I'm afraid I'll have to take you into custody."
Jodie glanced back, seeing the dumbfounded look on Claire's face, just as they all burst into laughter.
"You almost had me there, Officer Wending . . . I mean, Chuck," Claire said. "Now, could someone tell me what the hell is going on?"
Jodie let herself continue to laugh as she thought how incredibly strange life had become, careening down the highway, a stampede of thousands gathering all around them. In the afternoon sun, there was almost a beauty to the movements of the virals as they closed in on the road, joining the others. They ran across the bronze-hued landscape, some staggering, some sprinting like deer, all intent on the singular goal of joining Chuck to bring Gypsum to a final end.
Something was tugging at the corner of her mind. Jodie looked down at the flashing light on the instrument panel. "Uh, Chuck?
CHAPTER 12
Mei felt as if she were floating above her body. She looked down, seeing people dressed in white hooking her up to tubes, shooting things into her veins, pumping on her chest, seemingly frantic to stop the process she was going through. She felt tired, weary of fighting, worn out by being a constant captive, longing for a normal, quiet life by the lake with Jodie. Jodie who she'd only known for a few days. Jodie, who she'd felt closer to than anyone in her life. Jodie, who she felt like she needed to live for now. She turned and said goodbye to her mother and father, embracing them, allowing their love to fill her up.
A searing white light blasted at her eyes and she wanted to reach up and cover her face, but she had no feeling in her arms. If this is heaven, she thought, I sure wish they'd dim the lights a little. The light went away, then came back again, filling her eyes with pain. Mei felt her body convulse and gulped in a breath of air. As she breathed out, a spray of blood left her mouth.
"She's back with us," a woman's voice said. "Can you hear me?"
Mei nodded ever so slightly. She tried to lift her hand to touch her face, but sharp pains shot down her arm and across her chest. Gradually, her vision began to clear.
"We'll take care of you. You have a bad cut on your face, but it missed your artery. We're giving you fluids right now and some pain medication. We managed to dig up some morphine, but that’s about all we could find.”
Mei shook her head. "No . . . no pain meds . . . please, no."
The woman looked down at her, confused. "But . . . are you sure?"
"Yes," Mei said, with as much conviction as she could muster. "No pain meds. I need to be awake." Being anesthetized was a sure road to death if they ran into more virals. She wondered why she hadn't become one herself. Maybe the thing that attacked her was something else, though; something the Gypsum people hadn't counted on, something they didn't expect, obviously something terribly dangerous. Regardless of what it was, she knew it had done some terrific harm to her body. "Who are you?" But, before the words even came out of her mouth, she knew. They were all wrapped in sheets.
"You were out of it when they brought you in," the woman standing over her said. "You probably don't remember any of us. I'm Rita and this is Dennis." Rita gestured toward a man standing across from her. Pointing toward another man, she said, that's Rob and there are thirty-six more of us. Was it you who took out our IVs?"
Mei nodded. "My name is Mei. I was kidnapped by Gypsum."
Rita smiled back. "We all were, honey."
"Thank you," Bill said, reaching out to touch her hand.
A younger man came to her bedside. "We should think about getting out of here. The gas in the hallways is clearing. We don't know if it kills those things or just puts them to sleep."
"Does anyone recall what route we took to get into this room?" Rita asked.
A young woman spoke up from the other side of the room. "I think I do," she said. I pretended to be sleeping when they brought us in. I think I know the way out into the main hallway, at least."
"Let's be on our way, then," Rita said. "Waiting here is only going to get us killed."
Mei wondered if she could move and tried to sit up.
Gentle hands reached out and pushed her back down. "Not you, Mei. You're riding, not walking," she said, patting the gurney.
Mei's mouth felt dry as she tried to form words. "But, I'll just slow you down. You should leave me."
"No such luck," Dennis said. "You can't get rid of us quite that easy. Now, stop your protesting and let me buckle you into this thing. We don't want you falling off."
Mei watched the group milling around the room and wanted to laugh, but knew it would hurt too much. It looked like a strange toga party with everyone wrapped in sheets. "Aye aye, Captain," Mei whispered, relaxing into the gurney as Dennis strapped her legs and torso down.
After she was secured, Rita brought a bottle of water over and slowly poured a few sips into Mei’s mouth. Little by little, she was becoming more conscious and as she was, she wondered about her decision to forego pain medication. Her wounds felt as if they were on fire, the burning sensation extending from the middle of her chest all the way up her neck. She'd have to bear it, though. There was no option.
"Ready to go?" Dennis asked.
Mei nodded, hoping they wouldn't be pushing her along to a premature death.
* * *
Jimbo reached the reservoir at about two o'clock in the afternoon. The sun had baked shit on what was left of his skin and it was starting to itch. Just in time for lunch, he thought, peeking past a boulder at the sunbathers lying together on the beach below. But, something was nagging at Jimbo. He could feel a presence out there in the desert, something calling to him, begging him to come along, fall in line, join the movement. What could it be? Whatever it was, it felt like it was getting more and more into his head. He looked out at the sunbathers, then back at the burgeoning horde behind him. It had grown tenfold since they left Vegas. They'd picked up an entire high school, two hospitals, a shopping center filled with cheerleaders in a mid-season competition, two busloads of elderly tourists and the tenants of a maximum-security prison.
Pride swelled in his chest as he looked upon the minions gathering behind him, the cheerleaders and serial killers standing side by side, pushing, shoving and biting each other. Jimbo watched as two cheerleaders tackled a man in leg irons and sat on him, stuffing their pom poms down his throat until he stopped fighting back. The cheerleaders moved in a pack through the crowd, ripping out blonde hair as they went. Jimbo growled low to get their attention and they stopped, continuing to slap and bite each other, though. Some things never change, Jimbo thought.
To his left, a farmer with a sickle was beheading those around him, gleefully swinging the farm implement in a wide arc, sending heads flying. Jimbo picked up a rock and flung it at him, hitting him square in his decaying forehead, collapsing his frontal lobe into mush. They’re out of control, not disciplined. That's enough of that, he thought as he flung his head back and wailed to the sky.
A hush fell over his disciples. They cowered before him and hid behind boulders and cactuses. Jimbo turned back to the reservoir just in time to see the beach crowd running for their lives. One of his flock had been impatient and was already chasing a bikini-clad woman. A man was stumbling through the sand to catch up with both of them, screaming at the viral. In response, the viral turned on him, leaped and hit the man full force, embedding him in the sand. Even from a distance, Jimbo could hear the bones in the man’s chest breaking. Much to Jimbo's delight, the woman jumped on the viral’s back, attempting to dislodge him from the man. This enraged the viral and it spun in a circle, taking both the man and woman out in what could only be compared to a horrific lawnmower accident.
Looking across the beach, Jimbo saw the other vacationers w
ere escaping. He commanded his forces to move and to do it quickly. No one was to leave this place. His flock followed his command, sprinting past him to catch families retreating to the parking lot. The terrified-looking vacationers dropped beach towels, sand buckets and shovels, bags and inflated floatation rings as they fled. Potato salad and chicken wings littered the white sand.
The first mini-van made it out of the parking lot, its spinning tires flinging sand into the air. When it reached the asphalt pavement, the tires squealed, alerting the horde to its location. The virals shifted and converged on the van as it lurched forward, bashing into them, crushing a few under its tires. The van stopped abruptly and it was overrun, the windshield smashed and the occupants extricated.
The sound of glass breaking and screams permeated the air between Jimbo and his flock. Everywhere he looked, he saw his followers doing his will, tearing, ripping, and shredding the humanity before them. His heart swelled with love for his horde as he trotted across the bloodstained beach.
Jimbo jumped into the water, washing the filth from his ever-evolving body. Pieces of flesh and skin floated away from him as he scrubbed, leaving only taut shiny muscles. Now Jimbo knew why he was feeling so much stronger. He was becoming something bigger than human. Something better and more powerful. Something invincible.
Jimbo wailed in delight, calling his flock to bathe in the reservoir water. “Clean the filth from yourselves,” he commanded in his mind. He watched as they turned, dropping arms and legs, tossing entrails into the sand, disposing of all that was left of the vacation crowd. The parking lot was a wasteland of smashed, dented, bloodied vehicles. Child car seats littered the pavement. Jimbo momentarily felt a pang of sadness upon seeing the wreckage, but couldn’t remember why he would feel this way.
Then, other thoughts crept into his mind, overtaking the images of dying children. Something -- not a person, a force -- was tugging at him again, pulling him toward the desert, telling him to move, join the horde, take down Gypsum. That’s my plan, Jimbo thought, becoming more irate with each passing second. “Someone stole my plan,” he shrieked. He slammed his palm against his head in a frantic effort to dislodge the negative thoughts from what was left of his brain. For now, he would celebrate with his flock.
