by J. R. Rain
“I don’t know how long that fucker will be gone,” Anna struggled to hang on. Fight the cravings! She heard the anger in the voice. The hate. “But I’m here. I’m strong. And I want to live.”
“Oh, my God,” Carla’s voice was one of relief. “You’re back. You’re... fighting it, aren’t you?” Doubt mingled with hope.
“He doesn’t know,” said Anna “I started to come around in the car. Sorry... I didn’t know if I could talk to you or not. It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s okay, Anna. Your dad and uncle, and everyone else will come. And, I’m not done with that bastard yet.”
“Neither am I,” Anna said, evenly. “But I really need some water.” She swallowed, hard, forcing the saliva down. “First thing’s first, though. He mustn’t know that I’m changed. I’m strong now.... He’s going to use you somehow, Carla. He gave you some kind of choice. I’m stronger than you, so let him use me! I can do it, whatever it is... and keep him off of you.”
“No, I can’t allow you to do that,” said Carla, firmly. “I’ll figure out how to buy us more time.”
“But what are we facing out there?” Anna asked. “Where are we?!” She began to panic, but controlled herself, breathing deeply.
Fight it, Anna. Fight it.
* * *
Cole retrieved the suitcase from the SUV. A suitcase nuke. Or, more accurately, a nuclear warhead housed within a steel case lined with protective padding in case of radiation.
Like that’s going to matter soon, he thought, while wheeling the case carefully in front of him.
Only 60 pounds, but it packed a wallop. The explosion would be about half what it was at Hiroshima, or 6 megatons. And it didn’t take much to set this baby off either. A coded detonator, and a small explosion that literally rammed the two uranium tubes together.
And that’d be all she wrote for this nightmare. At least in L.A.
He was doing his job. Nothing more, nothing less. Just as others like him, around the world, were doing their jobs, too. To contain this nightmare. To save this sorry world from itself. And if he could take out the two Carter boys with the crazies, well, all the better. And if he could actually watch them suffer, too, even better still.
He had a little plan for that. A plan with front row seats to watch them suffer.
The arrogant pricks.
For now, though, he searched for the perfect spot for the bomb, until he sheepishly realized it wouldn’t really matter where he put it. The stadium would be gone whether he threw it in the bathroom or shoved it under a seat.
Still, he needed it out of the way and to keep it dry. Mostly, he needed to keep it safe from prying eyes.
And from the crazies.
* * *
Hours passed.
Cole returned, and seemed pleased with himself. Carla ignored the asshole as best she could, while trying not to give away the fact that Anna was, in fact, quite coherent. Carla also knew Anna’s coherency would last only for so long, before she devolved into a....
She couldn’t think about, and so she refused to.
Cole left again, keeping Carla chained. She felt so tired and began to fall asleep. Exhaustion became to hard to resist.
* * *
Anna crouched in the corner. Waiting.
Staying still was agony. She held the pen that Carla had told her about, a pen she had fished from Carla’s jeans, which had been a challenge since both of their hands were either cuffed or tied. But she had gotten it, and now she held the ballpoint pen tightly in the palm of her hand, thinking of all the places that were vulnerable on Cole’s body. She knew what she would do, but she had to wait for the right moment.
Think of something else....
Anna distracted herself by running through all of the constellations in her mind. First alphabetically, then chronologically. She fought her urge to get up, get out. She felt wonderfully powerful, and had never struggled so hard in her life to remain calm. She pictured her father, and remembered Jared. They were good men. She allowed herself to think of Jared... naked.
Anna had carefully loosened the knot that held the pillowcase around her, a short while earlier. Then, she made herself wait. Patience wasn’t her strongest virtue, and she reminded herself repeatedly what was at stake. Her life. Her father’s. Jared’s. Her uncle, Mike and Carla. She had to wait until the perfect moment.
She was in the middle of naming the stars in Latin when Cole suddenly returned.
Carla awoke with a slight moan.
“The time has come,” he announced.
“What time?” asked Carla, disoriented for a moment. Then Anna heard her jerking herself upright.
“You have a choice. Are you my girl?”
“What the hell does that mean?” asked, Carla, sounding confused.
“Choose, or I will choose for you.”
“What are you planning, asshole?”
He laughed. “That’s the fun of it. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Okay... I’m your girl,” Carla affirmed. “Take me, do what you will. But you’re not going to win.”
Anna heard him take her cuffs off the file cabinet, then snap them on again, likely behind Carla’s back. She didn’t hear anything more except the door opening and then locking from the outside.
Chapter Twenty-two
Mike froze when the stadium lights turned on.
Julie cried out in surprise when the music roared. He thought he might’ve heard both Jack and Joe shout over the radio, but the radio’s light dimmed by the time he noticed it. Neither one responded to his calls.
The wild rock music had a huge effect on the zombies. They had been fairly quiet, but now the noise and thudding drums and bass made them enraged. Julie clung to Mike, terrified.
He had to use a few bullets to get a few of the fuckers out of the way to get to the top edge of the stairs leading down to the field.
He was surprised by what he saw: Carla on top of the SUV, as bait. Jack and Brice were running toward her from left field, and Joe and Jared from the right. All of them were fighting their way through the incited undead.
They were out of time. Previous plans down the drain.
Julie wailed and hid behind him.
Mike turned around and snapped, “Get a hold of yourself, bitch. Now! Or die! Those are the only choices!”
She looked stunned by his harshness. “What are we going to do?” she whimpered.
“We? You’re going to prove yourself to all of us. We saved your ass, and now it’s payback time.”
“What—”
He handed her the keys to the Escalade. “Go back. Get all the rifles you can carry. Fill your backpack with guns. You’ll need this.” He gave her a pistol. “Can you shoot?”
“A little, but I can’t....”
Mike shook her hard. “Yes, you can. And you will, by God, or those assholes out there will eat you alive. You got that?”
Julie looked around her, eyes wild with fear.
Mike gave her one last look while checking the guns he carried, taking in the chaos below. “Choice is yours,” he shouted back at her, as he began his descent. “I’m going into the fray! Get moving, Julie—Help us!”
He didn’t say anything else to her. If she didn’t act, she’d soon be dead, or one of them.
Mike dashed down the stairs toward the field. He heard her scream behind him, and smiled when he heard a gun shot and Julie cussing up a storm behind him. There was still hope.
* * *
Cole was a bastard for sure.
He had blindfolded Carla, cuffed her hands, and forced her back into the SUV. Where they were going, she hadn’t a clue, and Cole wasn’t talking. Apparently, the smug chitchat was over.
When he stopped the vehicle, he removed the cuffs and brought her hands around to her waist and cuffed them again. Then he told her where to find a weapon. The driver door opened, shut, and she assumed he took off. Meanwhile, murmurs from the undead resounded from someplace nearby. She rippe
d off the blindfold and tumbled through the vehicle, heading straight to the glove box and removed a knife.
That’s when the lights turned on, and she found herself in centerfield of Dodger Stadium.
Surrounded by the restless undead.
She thought about staying put inside the cab. But then if Jack and the others came to rescue her and Anna, they might not see her. A better option presented itself, and while holding the knife in her mouth, she fumbled for the doorknob with her cuffed hands, got the door open, and scrambled onto the SUV’s roof.
Debating on whether to get down and run, or stand her ground and fight, she was surprised and felt her heart rise when Jack burst onto the field followed by Brice. Jack fired his way through the wretched things on his way to her. Meanwhile, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Joe and Jared advancing from the other side. Carla uttered a cry of relief and jumped down onto the hood where she could use her knife.
When the zombies noticed her, she was forced to defend herself with the knife, praying that her rescuers would get there soon....
* * *
Cole returned, panting slightly.
Anna listened as he walked to what seemed like a desk. Something clicked, and intense light filled the room, hurting her eyes through the pillowcase.
She dared not look up. That is, until the rock song started. An oldie Anna was familiar with, she now understood that she was in the stadium’s control room. She carefully lifted her head up toward the light’s source and stood.
In turn, the agent in black reacted. She heard Cole jerk around, and her heightened senses picked up his fear. Because of the light, she saw his shadowed form tiptoe away from her.
He’s afraid of me? Good.
Anna smiled. She wasn’t afraid, and a menacing snarl escaped her throat. She wasn’t faking it now. The guttural response came readily. Her head hung down, but it allowed her to make out a little of the room’s layout.
If Cole had realized she was picking information, she assumed he would’ve bolted for the door. But he didn’t, and that was a mistake. He receded into a corner, perhaps thinking he’d have the advantage. She heard his gun click. But Anna knew Cole was reluctant to kill her yet because he needed her for a hostage. He pushed open the closet door to his left a little... perhaps to confine her again.
“Come on, little girl. This way... that’s it. You can do it.”
Anna could feel her face flush with anger. Her growl this time was deeper, and she moved stealthily toward him. With predatory intent.
The hunter was about to become the prey. She let him steer her toward the closet door, coaxing her with his stupid words. Anna’s heart raced from the surge of adrenaline. He gave her a slight shove to move inside his trap.
That was it.
In one smooth motion, Anna broke through the last of the cords binding her and ripped off the pillowcase from her head. She turned and faced the startled agent.
But Cole didn’t miss a beat. He took a swing that would have knocked her across the room hours ago. Not now. The new Anna was stronger and faster, ducking under his arm and fist in a fluid movement. She swooped behind him, crawling like a demon child, and stabbed the pen into the soft flesh at the back of his knee. He cried out in pain as she thrust it through to his kneecap and twisted hard. She gave one more twist and half the pen broke off, leaving the other half embedded inside.
He fell to his other knee, wild with pain and gasping. She spun around and kicked the gun out of his hand. A wild shot blasted into a wall. Anna viciously kicked him in the nuts, and then flung him into the closet. Slamming the door closed, she grabbed a chair and shoved it under the door handle.
Wasting no time, she gathered his gun and most of the others, stuffing handguns into her pockets and carrying an armload of rifles.
The blasting music brought waves of energy that flowed through her, as she realized it was also doing the same thing to the mass of undead gathered in the stadium. She left the outer door open, hoping they would come for him, the man screaming in the closet. Then Anna Carter raced through the hall and down the stairs, to join the biggest battle of her life.
Chapter Twenty-three
Blood, bone and grey matter covered the bright green grass field as the five men fought their way closer to Carla.
Joe and Jared paired up back to back, Jared fighting off the oncoming undead as Joe cleared the way to Carla. By now, Jack had seen them, along with Mike, slaughtering his way from home base.
Joe was the closest though, and he could see Carla had been roughed up. She was barely recognizable, covered from head to toe with blood and sweat. He shouted to her. She turned to him and he tossed her a handgun. He overthrew a little high but she jumped to catch it, and then emptied it in seconds into the nearest pair of zombies trying to climb onto the truck’s hood. But it bought enough time to bring Joe and Jared closer. When they reached her, Joe gave her his last gun. Carla jumped off the car, fighting for her life, for their lives, too.
Soon, all six of them fired with their backs to the SUV. When the guns were emptied, they used their knives. And the zombies kept coming, drawn by the smell of fresh blood and driven by the blasting music, which looped over and over. The living humans were at the end of their ropes, exhausted, fighting, and killing one mindless fiend after another.
“Look!” Jared hollered, and pointed.
Tearing into the field came the Escalade, with Julie behind the wheel. She hauled ass to reach them. Mike smiled, perhaps at the thought she had decided she couldn’t carry all the weapons Mike ordered her to and she had made the executive—and smart—decision to bring everything to them.
But Julie looked terrified. She wouldn’t open her door until the rest rallied to the back and opened the trunk. Mike jumped in and threw out weapons, whatever he came upon first. The group caught them and renewed their attack.
* * *
Of course, Jared spotted Anna first.
She was wielding a baseball bat at any crazy that dared to approach. Anna was strong now, Jared could tell. She battled with fury and strength he’d never seen in her before. She fought off the closest enemies and arched her body into the battle, eager for more. Jared saw that she had some ammunition of her own laid out; where she had obtained it didn’t matter. He was sorely impressed.
But Jared also detected the redness within her eyes, and in an instant understood everything going on with her. She was changing, fighting both emotionally and physically. Surely she was at war within, having the zombie urges and yet fighting for the human side of things. How strong his girlfriend was to fight off the physical and mental illness that pervaded her body and changed her to a super-strength zombie. He admired and loved her all the more.
“Anna!” he roared, and pointed to her so the others would also notice her.
Anna managed to create a space for them to run to near one of the dugouts. She cleared the way, swinging left and right, lopping off zombie heads as she swung. Everyone moved toward her and toward the dugout. Julie jumped out of the car and found Mike, and from then on remained by his side.
Once inside the dugout, they fled deeper through an underground hallway. Anna tore some lockers free, and with help moved them to the entrance, blocking off their enemies.
* * *
Cole heaved a shoulder into the locked closet door for at least the fifteenth time. Finally, it crashed open.
He limped to the window, the pain in his kneecap excruciating. As his fingers dug unsuccessfully at the broken-off pen embedded in the back of his knee, he groaned and watched them come together as a unified and organized force. His rage at the sight of Julie coming to their aid added to his growing insanity. I should have killed that bitch!
The girl had taken most of his ammunition. But not all. His gaze fell onto his bag of tricks, and his face transformed into something evil. Hell, he felt evil. Enraged. Bloodthirsty.
The motherfuckers are gonna pay!
Cole turned his back on the view and dragged
himself to a nearby desk. He opened the drawers. Nothing. He moved from that desk to another, finding a pair of scissors. You can do this, he told himself. He grabbed a stack of paper from one of the printers, rolled it up. He would need to clench down on something. The Press Room had a bar; he moved slowly to it and reached for a bottle of whiskey, opened it and drank deeply. Then he reached around to the wound at the back of his knee, found the open gouge. He dug the scissors around the broken pen and waited for the nausea to pass. Clenching the paper in his mouth as hard as he could, he caught the pen with the scissors’ tip and pulled.
* * *
When Cole came back to consciousness, he wasn’t sure how long he had been out. Yes, the pain was still there, but lessened a great deal with that pen fragment out. Still, he couldn’t bear weight on his leg. And blood continued to pour from the wound. He shoved a wad of tissues in the hole, crying out as he did so.
He fashioned a makeshift crutch out of a mop from the closet. He envisioned snapping Julie’s neck, and would’ve gladly done so if she’d been there with him. He never dreamed she had it in her to betray him, and come to their aid.
But for Cole there was always a Plan B. He drew his backpack close, and checked the contents inside. He eased himself carefully into the chair and waited patiently for the smoke to clear and dust to settle outside.
Chapter Twenty-four
Jack smiled broader than he thought he could, proud of the damage the group had done. They had killed literally hundreds of the undead. If only the music would stop, they might wander off. Who knew that hard rock and roll could raise the undead like this?
“Never thought I’d get sick of that song.” said Brice. “I’ll never think of Eric Gagné the same way again.”
Everyone stood together in the shadows of the dugout, watching the vile creatures roam above them, insane with anger and a hunger that would never be satiated. Jack wondered how far along his daughter was in the zombie transformation process. But she hadn’t turned completely, not yet. There was time, and he could almost feel her fighting the rabid rage within.
