Rise of Chaos

by Griffin Smith

  “I’m gonna talk to my son privately for a second, I’ll be right back,” Tony said as he motioned to his son to follow him to the other side of the roof.

  “No problem,” Mason said as he walked over to Brody and Pualani and leaned over to scratch Cujo’s belly.

  “You guys alright?” Mason asked, genuinely concerned.

  “Well, besides the fact that it’s my birthday, and I saw my boyfriend get shot in the head and eaten in front of me, I guess I’m doin’ just fine,” she said, sardonically.

  “Um… Happy birthday,” Mason and Brody said, in unison.

  “Shut the fuck up, you guys,” she said, secretly wanting anyone to acknowledge that it was her birthday.

  “Mason, what do you think about Cap’n Tony and Kalen? Do you trust them?” Brody asked.

  “My gut says yes, and they did save our ass. The only way we’re going to get through this, is by sticking together. I’m pretty sure they’re having the same conversation about us right now.” Mason said as he looked over his shoulder and saw Kalen nodding his head, but couldn’t make out what was being said.

  “What do you think, Brody?” Mason asked.

  “I don’t know what to think anymore, man. This is all just so fucked up. It’s like a bad dream, actually it’s like some twisted ass Stephen King shit. You’ve done right by me so far, whatever you think man, I’m with you.” Brody said as he finished reloading his shotgun, and started walking towards the beer.

  “What about you, babe?” Mason asked, trying to be charming.

  “Don’t call me babe, asshole,” she shot back.

  “Wait a minute, let’s start over. Hi, my name is Mason, and did I do something to offend you in the short time that I’ve known you. If my memory serves me, I think all I’ve done since I met you is save your ass. So what is your fucking problem, already?” Mason said, not truly excited about opening this can of worms.

  “I’ll tell you what my fucking problem is,” she said as she put her dog down and started poking her finger in Mason’s face. “You, you’re my fucking problem! Who do think you are, you almost got us all killed with all of your bullshit. You’re running around here like you are 'King Shit' and we have to do whatever you say. My boyfriend is dead because of you, and now I’m stuck on top of this fucking roof, covered in blood and bruises, on my birthday!” she yelled, waiting for a reply.

  Mason just looked at her, dumbfounded, not saying a word, really wanting to tell her to shut up and then hit her or kiss her.

  “Lover's quarrel?” Tony asked as he walked over with his son in tow.

  Not yet, Mason thought, glad of the save. “She’s pissed because it’s her birthday and nobody bought her a pony,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Everyone started laughing, including Pualani, as Cap’n Tony said, “Do you guys get seasick? I have an idea.”

  ****

  “Kalen, get on the bow, and be ready to toss the eye over the bollard!” Cap’n Tony yelled from the wheelhouse of his tugboat.

  He was approaching the dock and pointing the bow of the tugboat at a shallow angle towards Cape Marina in Port Canaveral. When Cap’n Tony had the forward most cleat slightly upstream of the bollard, he expertly turned he rudder slightly away from the dock, allowing the current to push them sideways. As the tire fenders made contact with the pier, Kalen dropped the eye of the bowline over the bollard and tied it off to the cleat on deck. Cap’n Tony took the engine out of gear and let her drift backwards, to allow the stern to gently line up to the pier. Kalen walked aft and dropped the stern line over the bollard and secured the line to the stern cleat.

  “You can still drive this Tug like a pro, dad,” Kalen said as he waited for his father to come down from the wheelhouse.

  Tony walked down the bridge ladder carrying his rifle, and he tossed his son a .357 Magnum. “Take the pea-shooter and look alive, son, we are not safe here,” Tony said as he scanned the deserted dock. “Can you see our Land Rover from here Kalen?” Tony asked.

  “Yup, it’s right there, and the keys are in my pocket,” Kalen said, double checking the Smith & Wesson, making sure it was loaded.

  “Ok, keep an eye out for trouble, I’m gonna top off the diesel and make sure we can get underway fast,” Tony said as he went to get fuel.

  Kalen stood watch, thinking about his five sisters and mother that were out here in this chaos somewhere. God, we’ve got to find them, and I hope they’re still alive, he thought.

  “Looks like there was a hell of a gunfight here,” Tony said as he ran his finger through the large caliber bullet holes in one of the dry, docked boats.

  “Where are all of the people, or feeders at? This is downright fucking eerie?” Kalen asked, as they walked across the parking lot to the Land Rover.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care, we have to get your mother and sisters, pick up some supplies, and we are getting the hell outta here,” Tony said as they got into the truck and headed out through the parking lot and onto Scallop Drive.

  They drove the two or three miles to Garfield Ave, without incident, and observed the chaos and destruction everywhere. Houses were on fire, bloody heaps of half eaten limbs and bones littered the streets.

  “Get off the main road and cut down to the Ridgewood Ave, we’ll come up the back way,” Tony said, as Kalen turned the truck sharply to the left.

  Kalen pulled up to the small, one storey house, which was where his father, mother and five sisters lived. They parked the truck on the side of the road, locked the door and cautiously walked towards their home. The front door was wide open, and there was a ton of blood smeared on the door jam.

  “Oh my god, no!” Tony shouted as he dropped his rifle and blindly ran into the house.

  “Dad, wait!” Kalen shouted at his father as he took off, running into the house like a bat outta hell. Kalen picked up his father’s rifle and went into the house to see his father on his knees, sobbing.

  Kalen reeled in horror as his worst fears materialized into reality, right in front of his eyes. Kalen and his father had bright red hair and so did all five of his sisters. So when they looked at the heap of bloody destruction, there was no mistaking who the victims were.

  He counted five heads with ginger hair in various states of mutilation. He saw his youngest sister, Jenna, picked clean, she had no arms or legs left, just a torso with her head barely attached to her tiny little neck. Kalen scanned the room and the corpses; he recognized the remains of all of his sisters, but not his mother.

  “Dad, get it together, we have to look for Mom. I don’t see her body; she could still be alive!”

  And, as if he called her name, she appeared from the kitchen. This was Tony’s loving wife of twenty years and Kalen’s mother of twenty-two years, but this wasn’t her. She had been infected by the Annihilation virus and had probably slaughtered and eaten her own children. The thought that she could have done this terrified Tony and Kalen to no end.

  “No, Rose. Please, god, no!” Tony begged as his dead wife slowly moved towards him. She was drooling blood and one of her eyeballs was hanging out of her socket. It looked as though she had chewed through her own arm, and now she was almost on top of Tony, who was still sobbing, on his knees, with his head in his hands.

  Kalen nonchalantly walked towards his mother, intercepting her before she took his father away from him, and pulled the trigger of his .357 point blank at the side of her head. Her head exploded like a watermelon hit with a sledgehammer, and her large body flew through the air, landing on top of her five mangled daughters.

  “Dad! Get up…Snap out of it! They’re all dead, DEAD!” Kalen shouted, in a half crazy rage, as he was dragging his father outside by the scruff of his neck.

  “C’mon there’s a pub across the street. I need a drink, and I’m sure you do too,” Kalen said as he and his father opened the front door to Hogan’s pub.

  ****

  Back on the roof, Cap’n Tony had unveiled his escape plan to the group.
He told them about the existence of Camp Freedom. It was an island about five miles off the Eastern coast of Central Florida, completely surrounded by water on all sides, accessible only by air and sea. The idea behind settling the island, was that it was perfect for a defensible position, where they could keep safe from the feeders.

  Cap’n Tony and Kalen had gone on a mission to retrieve the rest of their family, gather supplies, weapons and any other survivors that they could find willing to come along. He told the group about how they were using solar panels and windmills to harness energy, and convert that energy into batteries, and about how they were purifying water through distillation, and how they had fortified the island by creating a Greek style walled city.

  He also told the group about the military coastal blockade that was ten miles off the coast. The Coast Guard and the Navy were shooting on sight any boat, airplane, swimmer or raft that crossed the Military Demarcation line or the Red Line, coming from the quarantined zone.

  Tony related to the group the story of how a hundred or so survivors had left Camp Freedom, by way of makeshift rafts built from palm trees. Once they had crossed the Red Line, they were obliterated by naval gunfire. No one survived. The residents of Camp Freedom watched in horror as they saw the sky light up with the explosions from the 5 inch naval guns. They could clearly see the refugees as they were blown apart, their limbs and splintered rafts littering the Red Line. It wasn’t long afterwards that sharks came and devoured what was left of the foolhardy runaways.

  “There was an uneasy truce with the Government, and a general understanding that if we don’t mess with them, they won’t mess with us. We were on our own, and we had to take care of each other,” Tony had heard reports that over ninety percent of the population of Florida were either dead, or worse, they were infected and turned into a slimy disgusting feeder.

  There were laws at the camp, and everyone was expected to pitch in, whether it was security, energy harnessing, construction, cooking, childcare or raiding the coast for supplies and more survivors. Camp Freedom had zero tolerance for crime, dissension or those who were infected. There was no incarceration or jail on the island, if you broke the law there were only two penalties, banishment or death.

  Camp Freedom was founded by a retired Admiral from St. Augustine, Florida. He managed to get most of his family out after the Annihilation epidemic ravaged through the state. Throughout his illustrious career in the Navy, he had made note of a small island off the coast of Central Florida, and chose to set up Camp Freedom there. He evacuated what was left of his family on his personal yacht, built an infrastructure on the island and began hunting for survivors and supplies.

  “He is known as Admiral, and he is a fair but firm man. He rules Camp Freedom with an iron fist, and he doesn’t take criticism well. He is a brave and strong man, and almost single-handedly built the entire camp and has kept over two hundred souls safe since the epidemic began.”

  “Well, Camp Freedom it is then,” Mason said as he looked at Brody and Pualani. “I’ve got one stipulation—nobody gets left behind. No matter what, agreed?” Mason stared at the group, solemnly.

  Everyone nodded their head, and they quickly realized that they were becoming a family.

  “Are there any girls on this island?” Brody asked, “The last few days have been a real sausage fest around here.”

  “Yea, there’s a few, but they’re all a bunch of fucking cows,” Kalen said, smiling.

  “That’s ok. My dick doesn’t have eyes,” Brody said, licking his lips.

  “Ugh… You’re a nasty little redneck fucker,” Pualani said as she playfully punched him in the shoulder. “Sounds like a plan; Cujo and I will be going,” she said, relieved that there might actually be some kind of hope.

  “Hey guys, look!” Mason said as he walked to the edge of the roof and pointed down. The bulk of the feeders had left, there were only a few stragglers remaining. “We need to make our move outta here,” Mason said as he looked at Cap’n Tony.

  “This is good. We can take those feeders out easily and make it to the Tug,” Tony said as he looked at his wristwatch. “We need to wait until dawn, we have about three hours, and then we’ll go.” Then he said to the group, “Kalen, take the first roof watch, and everyone else get some rest, we‘re in for a crazy day tomorrow.”

  Dawn came quickly, and the rotten putrid smell of death permeated the air. Mason and Brody stealthily shimmied down the rope ladder, armed with only an ax and a hammer. The plan was simple, Mason and Brody would quietly dispatch of any feeders blocking their escape, while the rest of the group would load the Land Rover with the remaining weapons and supplies. After they were on the road, they would make a quick stop at Beach Pawn, to rummage for more weapons, ammo and any other supplies they could find, before heading to the tugboat and getting underway to Camp Freedom.

  “Heads up,” Mason whispered to Brody as they came around to the front of the pub. There were about five feeders mindlessly meandering around the parking lot. Mason signaled to Brody to stay low and pointed at two feeders that he wanted him to terminate. Brody nodded in silent acquiescence as he moved forward slyly.

  Mason signaled the rooftop party to start moving down the equipment to the truck as he advanced behind three feeders with his ax raised high. Mason saw Brody mercilessly slaughter his targets with ease. This kid is a natural born killer, he thought, as he saw the deadly precision of his ball-peen hammer cave in both of the feeders heads, with one stroke apiece to the temple.

  As Mason crept up inches behind the first of his three feeders, he swung the ax over his head in a circular motion, decapitating his first target from behind. The foul monster’s head came clean off and rolled, like a bowling ball, into the next feeder’s shin. The second feeder, now alerted to his presence, picked up the decapitated head of his comrade and took a bite out of his cheek.

  Mason fought hard to control the bile rising in the back of his throat, he had a strong stomach, but this was almost too much even for him to witness. As he moved in to put an unholy end to this vile piece of shit, he recognized the feeder as one of the bastards that had bitten and infected his former friend, Irish Barry.

  Mason tossed his ax into his left hand and started to jog towards the feeder. It looked as if he were in a bowling alley and he was totally focused on bowling a strike, only it was an upturned ax in his hand.

  He covered the ten foot distance, like a mountain lion advancing on her prey, and, with vicious precision, he brought his Estwing Camper’s ax up between the feeder’s legs and into its groin. Using his momentum and torque, he split this infected creature in half, from dick to chin.

  Brody watched in morbid fascination after he efficiently pulverized the last feeder’s head. It was a violent and gruesome mutilation that Mason was completing, but his ax was stuck in its rib cage. Brody watched in horror as Mason was stomping on the neutered feeder's face and limbs, desperately trying to yank his ax free. After a massive heave, Mason was able to free his ax and sent bits of the monster's shattered ribs soaring through the air.

  “C’mon boys, let’s go!” Cap’n Tony shouted from the Land Rover as they were all loaded up and ready to go.

  “This was for Barry,” Mason said, darkly, to the mangled corpse lying at his feet. He took one last look and spat on it as he turned to jog to the truck.

  Mason and Brody jumped onto the running boards of the truck as he noticed that Pualani was driving. “Hey, try not to run into the building this time,” Mason said, playfully.

  “Get fucked!” Pualani said as she was shakily driving the two blocks to Beach Pawn.

  If we get through this alive, I just might. Mason thought to himself.

  ****

  The group pulled into the parking lot of the pawn store, and Cap’n Tony jumped out and issued quick commands. “Pualani, stay in the truck and keep it running. Brody, Kalen, stay out here and watch our backs. Mason, you’re with me.”

  They opened the door, and there was an
eerie quiet about this place Mason thought, deep down in the pit of his stomach.

  “Mason, clear the left side of the store, I’ll take the right. Use your ax; we don’t need any unwanted noise. I’ve already seen that you’re pretty handy with it.” Tony said, with a smirk.

  Mason nodded his head and methodically started to clear the aisles one by one. He didn’t see any feeders, but what he found rivaled a pot of gold. “Cap’n, come here, you’re gonna wanna see this,” Mason shouted from across the store.

  “Yea, one second,” Tony shouted back as he watched the feeder amble out of the back room towards him. This must have been the owner or manager. What a waste of a pretty woman, Tony thought. She smelled like the aftermath of a million uncleaned port-o-potties, and she was still wearing hooker shoes and a revealing and sexy outfit.

  Tony covered his nose and mouth as he scanned for a weapon, he saw a Martin guitar hanging on the wall, and he quickly snatched it by the neck and slammed the body of the solid top instrument into her face. Her head quickly snapped back, and she collapsed, smashing through the front display counter, making a loud crash.

  “Tony, what the fuck… Are you all right?” Mason yelled from across the store.

  “No, I’m definitely not all right,” Tony mumbled to himself as he made his way towards Mason.

  “Holy shit,” was all Tony could say when he laid eyes on the .50 caliber M2 machine gun. She was a work of art, they both thought as they stared in silence at this powerful weapon of mass destruction. There was a mount and several ammo cans full of explosive rounds.

  “This is essentially an auto cannon, we can mount it to the deck of the tug,” Mason said, smiling and genuinely happy.

  “Oh yea, this is a fantastic find, we can…” Tony trailed off as bursts of gunfire erupted outside.

  “Dad, Mason, we gotta go! There is a shit load of them coming,” Kalen said as he opened the door to the pawn store.