She paused as she pulled her legs under herself at the table. “Are you going?” While she wanted nothing more than for him to be safe, the thought of him being even further away gnawed at her.
“I don’t know, Haven. Weird things are happening. I gotta admit it’s scaring me a little. Some people aren’t coming into work. They’re pulling their kids out of school. Only us guys without kids and stuff are left.”
Haven had never heard him admit that he was scared. Ever. She started thumbing through the newspaper her grandmother had left on the kitchen table. Rosemary seldom failed to read the paper before heading to her morning woodcarving classes. She would leave the paper in the kitchen to subtly encourage her grandchildren to stay educated about what was going on in the world.
Sure enough, there were all kinds of horrifying stories covering the front page. Panic seemed to befall most of the major cities across the continent.
“What are you eating? Breakfast? I haven’t eaten yet. Let me live vicariously through you.” He chuckled.
“Cupcake.” She licked the remaining icing off the top of the miniature cake as she read, her eyes narrowing with each new story.
“Breakfast of champions.” He was quiet for several seconds. “You’re only eating the icing, aren’t you?” She used to drive Houston nuts when she’d only eat the icing and leave him the rest of the cupcake.
Haven blushed. “How did you know?”
“Some things never change,” Houston said wryly. His tone turned serious again. “Just promise me you will be careful. Watch out for your family.” He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. When he thought about anything bad happening to Haven, his blood ran cold. He gritted his teeth.
Haven put the newspaper down, fully awake. “I promise I’ll be careful. Nothing will happen to me or my family. You know that I won’t let it.” She gripped the phone tightly. “I’m more worried about you up there, all alone. If everything goes to hell, what are you going to do?”
“Haven, I love you. I love my parents. I don’t know what to do yet. I know it’s just you, Faith, and your grandma. That makes me nervous with Brett away at school. I couldn’t live with myself if anything bad happened to you.”
She remained resolute, although she wanted nothing more than to have him by her side. “This is all going to blow over. If you aren’t going to West Virginia, you should stay in Concord. You don’t need to come here and miss work when jobs are already so scarce in this economy. This is going to blow over. The government and military will step in, and everything will return to normal.”
His voice was tense. “Screw the damn job. Stop being so stubborn.”
“Houston. It’ll be okay. I’ll touch base with you often throughout the day so you’ll know what’s happening down here. If it starts to get bad, then we can go from there.”
He let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Alright. But I’m counting on you not to minimize things. If anything strange happens, you let me know. I don’t care what it is.”
Haven turned around at the sound of footsteps behind her. Faith waved sleepily and opened the refrigerator, still clothed in her flannel Christmas pajamas. Her younger sister really was excited for the holidays.
“Deal,” she said. “I’ve got to run. I’m babysitting today and have to be there in twenty minutes.”
“Okay, babe. I love you. Remember, no minimizing.”
She smiled. “You got it. I love you.”
***
“Come on, come on!” Colin growled at the Camry as they sped down the country road at eighty miles per hour. There weren’t any vehicles about, so Colin didn’t worry about getting a ticket. He rarely worried about that anyways. When he did get one, he never paid it.
Colin shifted the car roughly around the sharp turns of the road, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. His thoughts drifted back to his father. He shook his head determinedly to ward off tears. Colin knew that whatever had gnawed off half of Carissa’s forearm was not his father. Something dark was at play. Suddenly he missed Scotland very much.
“Carissa, love, stay with me.” Colin shot a glance behind him. Carissa was deathly pale. She looked unconscious. He reached over to the back seat to shake her, but she remained motionless. She had lost so much blood that Colin seriously wondered if she would even make it to a hospital. He cursed the fact that his cell phone didn’t work in the States.
In that instant, Colin realized that he had no idea where the nearest hospital was, much less his current location. He had never known his father’s address. He cast a cursory look about him, noting the name of a street sign he flew past.
“Dad’s got to have a map in here somewhere,” he mumbled. He leaned over and opened the glove compartment, keeping one eye on the road. Various items tumbled out as they bounced along the rough gravel. Finally, Colin breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers brushed over folds of thick paper.
He yanked it out and spread it across the steering wheel. Still trying to keep his eyes on the road, he ran a finger over the myriad routes, squinting at the tiny writing and cursing when he couldn’t see a thing.
Colin slammed a fist frustratingly on the steering wheel, his eyes momentarily shifting to the rear-view mirror. It was only then that his heart stopped for the briefest of seconds.
“Holy hell…”
Carissa was sitting straight up, inches behind him. Her face was twisted in a gruesome snarl, her once lively eyes clouded over. But there was no mistaking that they were focused on him. And that she was dead.
A low, angry rasp escaped the ghoul’s lips.
Colin knew what was coming next.
Right when it lunged forward to bite his neck, he slammed against the side of the car door, hastily buckled his seat belt, and swerved off the road. Carissa flew backwards into the seat, but just as quickly moved to attack him again, fingers bent abnormally as it clawed its way towards him.
Colin realized he didn’t have much time before he suffered the same fate Carissa and his father had. There was only one thing to do.
He swerved again. Carissa’s bluish lips were mere centimeters from his neck when the car impacted with the thick trunk of an oak tree. Her body was immediately thrust forward, pale limbs flailing through the air and shattering the windshield.
Colin’s air bag deployed instantly with a loud thud. A few minutes later, he groaned into it, then leaned back to touch a bloody nose.
He stared out of the broken windshield. Carissa’s body was sprawled out in the grass next to the car, her legs and arms twisted at odd angles. He winced when he caught sight of her head.
Her skull had split at the top, most likely from hitting the sturdy, unyielding tree trunk the front of the Camry was now wrapped around. Pieces of glass poked out of her sunken cheeks; one jagged bit was lodged firmly in her right eye. Her brain was exposed and scrambled in a mess of blood, gray matter, dirt and leaves, and matted, tangled hair. The sordid concoction dribbled out onto the earth beneath her.
Colin held back vomit and unbuckled his seat belt. He reached for the door handle unsteadily and opened the door, his hands trembling.
“Guess it’s walking from here on out,” he said to himself.
He paused momentarily as an idea came to him. Colin pressed the release button below the steering wheel for the trunk and then exited the vehicle, not forgetting to bring the sword for extra protection. Stumbling out into the morning light, he leaned against the car for support, the sword held limply in his grasp. He allowed himself a bit of time to catch his breath and steady his heartbeat. Then he made his way to the trunk.
Inside the rear compartment, he looked about for anything useful. So far, all he’d seen was the lousy map. He was about to close the trunk when something caught his eye. Colin chuckled when he realized what it was.
His duffel bag lay tucked back in the furthermost corner. In their haste to eat the steaks, Colin and Jack had forgotten to unload the car when they arrived at the house.
He shook hi
s head wistfully, unzipped the bag, and rummaged through the contents with gusto.
A minute later, the Scotsman cut into the woods to the side of the road, sword and bagpipes in tow.
Chapter 7:
Washington, D.C.
Since five a.m. that morning, the FBI Headquarters in Washington, D.C. had been brimming with activity. Reports were coming in from all over the country of strange attacks at various public locations, including airports, hospitals, malls, movie theaters, grocery stores... any place that tended to boast large populations of people.
They had gotten a couple of leads on a possible terrorist threat and a new breed of weapons of mass destruction. Having established a WMD sub-program within the Counterterrorism Division in 1995, the FBI abided by the idea that even a single isolated incident could be catastrophic.
Thus, orders from their commanders at the Atlanta Division sent Special Agents Carey and Martinez from the Investigations and Operations Section to look into what appeared to be the first reported attack.
It was around two o’clock when they made their way over to the airport. Carey drove in silence while Martinez buzzed with excitement.
“Can you believe it, man? The reports say that half the dude’s face was bitten off,” the younger officer exclaimed.
Carey stared ahead, his forehead creased in consternation. “I’ve seen worse.”
Martinez ignored the older man’s lack of enthusiasm. “Do you think it’s true? That this really could be a possible terrorist attack?”
Tightening his grip reflexively on the steering wheel, Carey answered, “Anything’s possible.”
They pulled into the airport’s vast parking garage, and after entering the airport, found the Transportation Security Administration desk.
Carey asked to speak with the head security officer and was quickly obliged after flashing his badge.
A tall black man greeted them a few minutes later.
“Hello. I’m Officer Bentley,” he stated in a deep, booming voice. He shook their hands. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
As usual, Carey spoke for the two of them. “I’m Agent Carey, and this is Agent Martinez of the FBI Atlanta Investigations and Operations Section,” he said, once more showing his badge. “We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Sure thing,” Bentley responded.
“There have been reports of attacks here two days ago. Attacks of a… different… variety.” Carey left out the fact that similar attacks had been reported from all over the country.
“Yes, that is something I don’t think we’ll ever forget here. What happened to that young man? Is he alright?”
Carey ignored his question. “Officer Bentley, we’d like the names and addresses of everyone who came into contact with the attacker.”
Bentley looked slightly surprised. “I had my men get tetanus shots if they got bitten. I gave them a couple days off. They should be fine now.”
Martinez cast a sideways glance at his partner.
Carey continued unfazed. “Nevertheless, we need their names and addresses. As soon as possible.”
Bentley crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. “I’ll have my assistant get them for you. May I ask what’s going on?”
“Unfortunately, that is confidential information. For the time being, we ask that you please remain vigilant of any suspicious activity.”
“Huh,” Bentley mused. “I work at a huge airport. I see suspicious behavior daily.”
Carey nodded, and Martinez thought he saw him crack a smile.
Fifteen minutes later, both men were headed towards 1672 Tanglewood Lane, residence of Officer Mike Holst.
***
Miami, Florida
Emily sighed as she stretched out on the beach towel in Miami. Her friend, Carolina, had invited her to spend the long weekend at her parents’ home near South Beach, and she was thoroughly enjoying her fall break. Attending the University of Miami had been quite the change for her from high school. She’d never read so much in her life. As such, she had opted out of going home for the holiday to Huntsville, Alabama because she only had four days off and a handful of tests waiting for her when she got back to campus.
Emily had agreed at the very last minute to accompany Carolina to the beach-front condo. It had taken her friend almost an hour to convince her to come. She needed to study for her exams and had planned to spend the break locked up in her dorm room. Emily finally capitulated when Carolina said she could study undisturbed in the sunshine... as long as she promised to party with her at night.
Carolina had gone to the grocery store a few hours before to pick up some goodies for the barbeque the girls were having on the beach that evening. Emily had offered to go with her, but Carolina, being the good friend she was, knew Emily was exhausted from school and insisted she stay at the condo and relax. Emily was certain that she was giving her time to go over all of her notes and textbooks before Carolina’s friends came over for the barbeque.
But Carolina still hadn’t come back. At first, Emily figured she had gone shopping at the mall for a snazzy new bikini to impress her boyfriend, Carlos. After texting her several times and not getting a response, she began to think that she was at Carlos’ house. She didn’t have his number, so she sent him a message on Facebook asking him to call her if Carolina was there.
In the meantime, Emily figured she would get some sun and then tidy up the house. Although it was October, the sun shone brightly. It was the right time of day to get that perfect bronzed glow.
At least she hoped it was. A self-professed “snowflake,” Emily was skeptical of her ability to tan. In spite of living in Miami for the last three months, she spent most of her days at the library. As a result, her skin was the color of milk, with a few freckles sprinkled along the bridge of her nose.
She also didn’t feel that comfortable in a bikini. Since she hit the books so often, she didn’t get many opportunities to go to the gym. Her mother always described her as “voluptuous,” but Emily knew she was plump to say the least. She was grateful that this part of the beach was more secluded than the rest so that she wouldn’t need to compete with the model-like waifs who walked up and down Collins Avenue and Ocean Drive.
After lathering on SPF fifty sunscreen, Emily pulled the shades over her eyes and opened her books. She perused the contents of her notes repeatedly, trying to absorb the material.
The sky was so blue and the water so inviting, however, that she sighed, stood up, and walked the short distance to the ocean.
She dove in and swam around, letting her curly brown hair down so that the frizz from her ponytail smoothed out as the water splashed over it. Then she leaned back and stared up at the clear sky, the waves rocking her gently. Emily was so relaxed that she wished the vacation could last forever.
This semester had been particularly hard on her. She had foolishly opted to take extra credits, against the recommendation of the university, so that she could graduate early. Looking back, she wasn’t sure that had been the best idea. She had a “C” in her Chemistry class, and she had never gotten a “C” in her life. She was also working part-time at the bookstore to help pay for her out-of-state tuition. The combination of work and school was slowly wearing her down. Although no one could see it unless they knew it was there, Emily had gotten a bald spot on the side of her head. She remembered seeing it for the first time when she was blow-drying her hair. She had cried for hours, overwhelmed with stress and the consequences it was having on her body.
During the hour that Carolina had spent trying to convince her to come to the beach, it was one of the points her friend had made during her argument. Emily was just too stressed and would die at forty if she didn’t start to enjoy life a little.
She let a wave crash over her, holding her breath and closing her eyes as the salt water submerged her in temporary darkness. When she resurfaced, she made her way back to shore.
The beach was practically empty today. She wasn’t entirely
alone though. Far off in the distance, a figure was slowly walking along the shoreline, probably enjoying the tranquility just as much as she was. She smiled and picked up her towel, drying her body before setting the bright orange fabric back onto the sand.
Emily reached for her iPod and put the ear buds into her ears. She chose a playlist consisting of Coldplay, 311, Radiohead, and Train, something relaxing to take her mind off of her exams for even a moment.
She turned up the volume and exhaled deeply.
A figure crossed the backyard.
Feet shuffled along the beach, drops of blood soiling the white sand.
A low moan grew louder and hungrier as it approached. Its shadow hovered above her.
Emily’s brows furrowed. She didn’t feel the warmth of the sun on her skin anymore. Had the sun gone behind the clouds?
She looked up and saw the dark silhouette of a figure against the sun.
Just as she made out the intruder’s grisly features, it collapsed to its knees and tore a huge chunk from her abdomen. Emily’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as she stared at her attacker with shocked eyes rimmed with terror and betrayal. She tried to roll over and crawl away, but the pain from the gaping hole in her stomach paralyzed her. Blood pooled out onto her orange towel, onto the sand. Then she was dead.
For the next hour, Carolina feasted on her friend’s flesh, any preparations for a barbeque of cooked meat long forgotten.
***
Carey knew something was wrong as soon as he pulled into the neighborhood. Everything was too quiet, too perfect. Once he reached the houses, Martinez heard him inhale sharply. Destruction was everywhere. Both men stared open-mouthed at the chaos before them. Several cars had smashed into one another, doors were torn off their hinges, windows were broken, and gunshots could be heard in the distance. A couple of houses were on fire, smoke billowing through shattered windows.
The Good, the Dead, and the Lawless: The Undoing Page 8
