H7N9 Penitence

by Mark Campbell

  CHAPTER 11

  Teddy’s vision was blurry and warm blood dribbled over his lips. He got on his hands and knees and looked up at his attacker.

  Logan was still wearing khaki, but had managed to pick up a pair of military boots somewhere along the way. His stringy hair hung over his face and fell past his shoulders. A large swastika was proudly displayed on the portion of his hairy chest visible through his ripped shirt. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and kept the revolver pointed at Teddy’s head.

  “You know, we really need to stop running into each other like this,” Logan said with a grin. “How is your throat feeling?”

  Teddy spat a wad of bloody mucus on the floor and glared up at him.

  “Shouldn’t you be dead outside with your lackeys?” Teddy asked.

  “Come on, Teddy… Use your head. What kind of crew do you think I ran? Most of the idiots dumb enough to run outside while that helicopter was buzzing around were either unaffiliated faggots, spics, or niggers,” Logan said with disgust. “Who am I to stop them from running outside? My crew’s all dead so now I’m all out here by my lonesome and surrounded by filth. I finally heard the helicopter leave and was headed out of this place when I ran into your sorry ass.”

  “You can keep on walking, you know,” Teddy muttered. He started to slowly stand. “I don’t have no beef with you. I just want to–”

  Logan kicked him in the abdomen and sent him falling back down to the ground.

  Teddy curled up and held his stomach, coughing and gasping for breath.

  “You killed one of my men!” Logan yelled. He kicked Teddy again, harder. “That shit isn’t just something I can walk away from, and you goddamn know it!”

  Teddy coughed up blood, wheezing, as he rolled over onto his back. He opened his eyes and stared up at Logan as the man pointed the barrel of the revolver at his forehead.

  “You should’ve left when you had a chance,” Logan said with a scowl. He looked over at the first aid kit Teddy had dropped. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me… who is so important that you came back in here to try to save? That crippled old nigger you always sat with in the dining hall? Is he hiding around here somewhere?” He laughed loudly and shook his head. “Two for one! That would just be priceless!”

  An image of Maurice’s putrid corpse lying in the cart flashed momentarily in Teddy’s head and an overwhelming sense of sadness washed over him.

  “It doesn’t matter who anymore,” Teddy said weakly as he tried to keep away the tears. “Just go ahead and do what you’re going to do.”

  Teddy closed his eyes, and waited.

  Call it a release or a reprieve - at least it would be an ending.

  A shot rang out.

  Teddy opened his eyes and watched as a crimson blossom formed in the front of Logan’s chest.

  Logan, stunned, looked down as blood started bubbling out of his chest. He lowered the revolver and reached up to touch the blood, confused.

  Three more shots rang out from the sally port at the back of the lobby.

  Logan jolted as each round struck him in the back and passed through his chest, spurting out blood. Red foam dribbled from his mouth and his face lost color. Gasping uselessly for air, he turned around towards the direction of the shots and shakily raised his revolver towards–

  A final shot struck Logan in the forehead.

  Logan’s head snapped backwards and the back of his skull blew out. Gore splattered across the reception desk. He dropped his revolver and collapsed on the floor.

  Teddy shoved Logan’s corpse off him and scurried backwards across the floor, ears ringing from the sound of the gunshots.

  A young black man wearing an ill-fitting military uniform ran towards Teddy with his rifle pointed at him. Disheveled dreadlocks stuck out of his dirty Rastafarian headwear. His face was sunken and his eyes were bloodshot.

  “Please… Don’t,” Teddy muttered, covered with Logan’s blood. He stopped scooting away and held a hand up towards the soldier in surrender.

  The soldier stopped, lowered the rifle, and gave a big grin revealing his gold-covered front teeth.

  “Teddy, my brotha,” the soldier said in a heavy Jamaican accent. “I almost didn’t recognize ya!”

  Teddy lowered his hand and squinted. Recognition finally struck him.

  “Turtle?” he asked with disbelief. “How in the hell did you managed to survive?”

  Turtle let out a boisterous laugh and propped the rifle up over his shoulder.

  “I could ask you the same thing!” Turtle said with amusement. “Last I heard, ya were held up in da SHU and da ones in SHU didn’t do so well!”

  Turtle held out a hand.

  Teddy took his hand and pulled himself up, grunting. He dusted off his dirty orange jumpsuit and shook his head.

  “All things considered, I guess I came out alright,” Teddy said.

  Turtle looked at him and scratched his ashy chin.

  “Den why ya lookin’ all out of sorts? Wearing orange means beggin to get shot.”

  Teddy frowned.

  “Ever since I got out of my cell I’ve had motherfuckers shooting at me. I didn’t have time to go clothes shopping.” He pointed at Turtle’s uniform. “What’s with the uniform?”

  Turtle beamed and stepped back to pose.

  “Ya like?” Turtle asked. “I lifted it off da dead army man. I figured he won’t be needin’ it anymore.” He laughed. “It’s my get everywhere free pass!”

  Teddy wasn’t impressed.

  “No offense, but you don’t exactly portray a convincing soldier, Turtle.”

  Turtle simply laughed again, gold teeth sparkling in the sunlight.

  “I don’t need to play anything, brotha. I just need dem to second guess me long enough for me to get a shot off.” He looked around the lobby, dreadlocks waving. “I suggest ya go ahead and find a uniform too ‘less you wanna stick out like an orange thumb!”

  Teddy gave him a quizzical look.

  “Why?” Teddy asked. “Where are we going?”

  “We go away from here!” Turtle exclaimed. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. He dangled the keys in the air in front of Teddy’s face. “I fished these out of da pocket of one of da dead hacks. All I had to do was wait for dat dere bird hovering ‘round outside to fly away. We best go ‘fore it comes back, yea?”

  Teddy stared at the keys. He was a little embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of it himself, but hunger and thirst were dulling his common sense. Although it was a tempting proposition, his time inside made him cautious - especially when it came to trusting a fellow con.

  He reached up and rubbed his aching head.

  “Why me?” Teddy asked. “I don’t know this fucking state. I’m bound to slow you down, so what’s stopping you from shooting me the minute I turn my back?”

  Turtle laughed and put the keys back in his pocket. He tucked his dirty dreadlocks back underneath his headwear and shrugged.

  “I was gonna head out on my own, but now I found ya. I think I need da extra eyes on da road and havin’ another shooter couldn’t hurt,” Turtle said casually. He pointed towards Logan’s corpse and grinned. “Besides, you owe me, yea?”

  Teddy grumbled and looked towards the parking lot. As much as he hated to admit it, having Turtle as company would be smarter than facing the new world outside alone.

  “Where do you plan on going anyway?” Teddy asked as he turned back towards Turtle.

  Turtle seemed puzzled by the question. His eyes shifted around nervously, and that was enough of a sign to tell Teddy that the man didn’t have a damn clue.

  “Tucson or maybe even Phoenix,” Turtle finally said. “There are lots of stores and malls just ripe for da picking.”

  Teddy knew that it was a half-assed idea at best.

  “Yeah, and I’m sure that every last one of them has already been picked clean,” Teddy said with a sigh. “If you did go that route, then so much for your disguise. Whoever i
s left out there won’t be too sympathetic to a couple of soldiers wandering around aimlessly.”

  Turtle frowned and glared at him.

  “Go on, out with it! Tell me den, since ya think ya know everything,” Turtle said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “What’s your idea?”

  Teddy reached over and flicked the laminated FEMA gate pass that was dangling from Turtle’s uniform.

  “Since we’ll look the part, we may as well pitch a tent somewhere where there is food and water,” Teddy said. “The stadium is up in Tucson, so it will be a little drive, but I reckon it’ll be worth it not to have to sleep with one eye open.”

  Turtle looked skeptical.

  “How do ya figure it’s any safer out dere than it is in here?” Turtle asked.

  Teddy glanced down at Harris’ corpse and then quickly looked away, shaking his head.

  “I don’t,” Teddy flatly replied. “All of the soldiers have those ID cards attached to their uniforms so obviously they have some type of operation set up there. I say we check it out; it’s still a better plan than wandering around out there in the wilderness.”

  Turtle shrugged and another one of his oily dreadlocks fell out of his headwear.

  “Whatever ya say,” Turtle said. “We’ll go check out dis army place, but if dey give us a hassle when we try to sneak in, I hope you’ll be ready to fight.” He grinned at Teddy and raised his brows. “Can ya fight, my brotha?”

  Teddy simply glared back.

  “You know what I did to Darrel and Andy,” Teddy said plainly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t even be entertaining this conversation with me.”

  Turtle laughed loudly, gold teeth sparking.

  Behind Teddy, Harris became semi-conscious. He coughed and gasped for air as he struggled to move.

  Turtle immediately pushed Teddy aside, raised his rifle, and fired a three-round burst into Harris’ chest.

  Harris jolted with the shots and slumped over.

  Teddy spun around and stared at Harris’ corpse with his mouth agape, startled.

  Turtle slapped Teddy on the back; Teddy tensed up.

  “Ya let yer guard down and see what happen? Snake almost bit yer heels, brotha,” Turtle said as he tried to speak above the ringing in his ears. He laughed, propped the rifle on his shoulder, and started sauntering towards the front door. “Ya may know to fight, but ya done got complacent. Keep yer eyes open next time.” He motioned for him to follow. “Let’s go ‘fore more snakes come slitherin’ round.”

  Teddy glanced over at the first aid kit on the floor and then looked back at Harris.

  He crouched down and lowered his head.

  “I’m sorry,” Teddy said quietly, shamefully.

  He got up, dusted himself off, and followed Turtle out of the building.

  CHAPTER 12

  “It has to be one of dem,” Turtle said in frustration as he paced around the parking lot holding the car’s key fob in the air. He repeatedly pressed the lock button on the fob with the hopes that one of the cars would honk in response.

  Nothing happened.

  Turtle wiped the sweat off of his brow and peered around the lot with a scowl. The military uniform he was wearing was baggy and wrinkled. His vest was off and his shirt was untucked. A rifle was slung over his shoulder and a pistol was tucked in his waistband. The multicolored Rastafarian headwear sat askew on his head.

  “Would you relax?” Teddy muttered. “It has to be out here somewhere. We’ll find it.”

  Teddy managed to come across a soldier who was about his same size. The uniform fit, although the length of his pants left much to be desired; he simply stuffed the excess length down into the boots. He tried his best to mimic the way the other soldiers wore their gear but he figured it’d be useless considering how ridiculous Turtle looked.

  He knew Turtle wouldn’t fool a soul, but he’d deal with him later.

  “How can I ‘lax?! I was cooler inside dat stuffy cell, brotha!” Turtle said with exasperation. “I’m sweatin’ away and we haven’t even left da parking lot yet.”

  Teddy was surprised by how bitchy his new travel companion was, but then again, he didn’t expect much from such a big talker. Despite the bluster, he knew that most of the cons who ran crews inside were overcompensating cowards.

  He looked around at the scattered sedans and the few car pool vans.

  “What is the logo on the fob?” Teddy asked.

  “Da what?”

  “Logo,” Teddy repeated. “What is the logo on the fob? It will help narrow things down.”

  Turtle stared at the fob and turned it around as he studied it. He gave an aggravated groan and tossed the keys to Teddy.

  Teddy nearly dropped the rifle he was carrying, but managed to catch the keys.

  “How bout’chya tell me!” Turtle said as he wiped his brow again. “I don’t know yer cars! Americans drive fag shit! On da island we have real cars not plastic toys!”

  Teddy took one look at the fob and saw Ford’s distinctive emblem. He looked around the lot and spotted a dirty late-model Ford Taurus sedan parked near the edge of the lot.

  “The island? You mean Jamaica?” Teddy asked as he started walking towards the car. “The only thing they drive are relics from the eighties and shitty boxes on wheels from the UK.”

  Turtle spat on the ground and followed him, wagging a skinny finger in the air.

  “You don’t know shit!” Turtle said defensively. “Hillbilly ass probably never left da Midwest long enough to even see da water! Dat island is paradise! It’s home!”

  Teddy ignored him and raised the fob towards the Taurus. He pushed the button and the car chirped as the doors unlocked.

  He grinned and tossed the keys back to Turtle.

  Turtle missed and the keys fell on the ground.

  “I may not know much, but I know my cars,” Teddy said.

  Turtle snatched the keys off the ground and three more dreadlocks fell out of his head garb. He rolled his eyes and brushed past Teddy as he hurried towards the car.

  “Ya, ya, ya, whatever, cowboy, just make sure yer as sharp with dat gun as with that tongue of yours.”

  Teddy rolled his eyes and opened the passenger-side door. Having sat unused for so long, the car smelled sour and musty. The air was hot and the cracked dashboard was covered with dust. Crumbs were all over the floorboard.

  It was an ugly car, but Teddy knew better than to be picky.

  “When we get closer to the city we need to ditch this ride and get a military vehicle,” Teddy said. “If they see us roll up in this piece of shit, they’ll call bullshit on us before we even get out of the car.”

  Turtle ignored him and sat on the driver’s seat. He grunted as he attempted to adjust the seat back to accommodate his gangly frame. However, something in the backseat prevented his seat from leaning back.

  Teddy looked in the back seat and felt his stomach knot.

  An empty baby seat was propped in the back behind Turtle’s seat.

  Turtle reached behind him, grabbed the seat, and hurled it out into the parking lot. He slammed his door shut and looked over at Teddy.

  “Ya commin’ or what, brotha?”

  Teddy got inside the car and closed the door. Habitually, he put on his seatbelt; it felt like an instinct from some previous life. It all felt so foreign, so surreal.

  Turtle put the key in the ignition and turned it–

  The engine sputtered.

  “Jeezum Pees…” Turtle muttered in a heavy accent as he tried again–

  Another sputter.

  “Son of da bitch! Come on!” Turtle yelled as he slapped the steering wheel. He tried again–

  The tailpipe spat out a plume of black smoke and the engine rumbled to life.

  Cold air blew out of the vents and static warbled through the speakers.

  Turtle shouted exuberantly and slammed his fist against the roof, laughing.

  Teddy leaned his head back against the headrest and smiled as the cold air struck his s
weaty face. He reached over and turned off the radio.

  Turtle slapped Teddy on the arm, startling him.

  “Let’s go, ya?” Turtle grinned. He put the transmission in ‘D’ and drove out of the parking lot.

  As they turned into the two-lane country highway, Teddy watched as the prison grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as it’s outline grew hazy and indistinct.

  Eventually he couldn’t see it all anymore.

  Teddy sighed and looked at the road ahead.

  With no traffic passing through, nature had already started to reclaim the highway. Sand covered most of the road and the telephone poles were leaning askew.

  Turtle and Teddy sat in silence as the hours waned on.

  As they drove, Teddy spotted a few scattered cars parked off the side of the road, half buried in sand. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of the abandoned vehicles still had corpses resting inside of them, poor diseased schmucks who pulled over to rest for the night only to never wake up again.

  People who had died before they even realized that what they had wasn’t ordinary flu.

  It was a goddamn shame.

  “Look,” Turtle said as he pointed ahead.

  Teddy squinted and could make out the silhouette of Tucson’s miniscule skyline nestled against the backdrop of the Catalina Mountains.

  Teddy nodded.

  “It won’t be long now,” Teddy said. His throat hurt from thirst and his stomach ached with hunger. “Probably a good forty minutes I reckon.”

  Teddy reached over and tried to find a working radio station, but nothing came through except more static. He sighed and turned off the radio again.

  “Jus gotta get a lil closer, dat all,” Turtle said.

  Teddy wrapped his arms around his stomach and closed his eyes.

  Turtle glanced over at him, dreadlocks hanging down the side of his face.

  “You alright, brotha?” Turtle asked.

  “I’m weak,” Teddy muttered. “I need water… I need food.”

  Turtle laughed and looked back towards the road.

  “Should’ve raided some of dem MREs in da staff lounge like I did,” Turtle said.