The Rising

by Temple Mathews

  Will studied Rudy, getting right in his face. It looked like the memories of the past several weeks were flooding into his brain.

  “Oh, man, I’m starting to remember everything now. And I have been such an a-hole! I can’t even imagine what you wanna say to me, Will.”

  “I’ve got just one thing to say to you, Rudy.” Will paused for effect, then hit a switch and the metal bands restraining Rudy’s arms and legs retracted. Will held out a hand to help him up.

  “Welcome back.”

  Tears flowed from Rudy’s eyes as he sat up and hugged his best friend.

  NOXON, MONTANA

  Four friends were out rafting on the Clark Fork River. They had plenty of beer, though not so much sunshine; it was mostly gray skies, the air cold enough to raise a flush on your cheeks. But the beer buzz made it all good, at least for Jimmy Varnes and Kris Hoffman, boyfriend and girlfriend, still in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, constantly kissing, holding hands, giving each other googly eyes. Todd Hepper and Susan Townes were a year older and had been going together so long that handholding was pretty much a thing of the past—unless Todd had done something stupid (a frequent occurrence) and had to make up for it by kowtowing to Susan in order to get back into her good graces and, therefore, her Levis. The foursome had had a long, lazy day just cruising on the river, not riding rapids or anything like that, drinking plenty of beer and shooting the shit, the guys jawing about the Seahawks and Steelers and the girls going on about Brad and Angelina. It was just another day of post–high school fun. But then Todd and Susan had gotten into it, arguing about if and when they ever got married and if and when they ever had a baby and if that baby was a boy—would it be circumcised?

  Jimmy thought it was the stupidest fight anyone could have. Nonetheless, Todd and Susan weren’t speaking now, and it cast a pall over the trip. Jimmy wasn’t paying attention and they took a wrong fork in the river and wound up drifting along. Now they had something else to argue about: Jimmy having taken a wrong turn, and whose fault was that anyway? Susan started digging at Todd about him not paying attention, and Todd responded by drinking the tipping-point beer, the one that sent him over the edge into belligerence. That was why he used the F word with Susan, and she responded by standing up in the raft and slapping him. He was so shocked he used the F word again and shoved her, and she lost her balance, her arms pinwheeling like a circus clown.

  “God damn you, Todd!” she screamed.

  In this frozen moment, with time expanding, a wave of realization washed over Todd. He realized how much he really loved Susan, how he wanted to be with her forever. And it was at this moment that he decided he would ask her to marry him. He reached for her, smiling now, but as he grabbed at her, he missed and she fell over backward, off the raft. Jimmy laughed. Kris shook her head: boys will be boys. But then Susan began screaming, and it wasn’t a normal scream, it was the kind of scream that raises the hair on the back of your neck.

  When all three reached over to pull her back into the raft, it took several seconds for them to process the sight. Susan was thrashing around in the dark water, surrounded by dead fish. The fish were floating on the surface of the water just like they did when someone was stupid and cruel enough to go dynamite fishing. But that wasn’t the reason the fish—and there was a dead beaver, too—were floating like that. Stunned, still uncomprehending, Todd and Jimmy pulled Susan into the boat. The gaped silently because they had no words for what they were seeing. Susan gasped for breath and then started screaming again, and this time, so did Kris. They screamed because what they were witnessing wasn’t just a flotilla of dead fish and other creatures. What they were witnessing was true evil: the river had turned to blood. They held their noses as the smell became overpowering. It was the smell of Hell on Earth.

  Chapter Nine: The New Breed

  Will and Rudy stood before a mirror in Will’s laboratory. Rudy shook his head.

  “Man, I can’t believe how I look. I mean, I like the fact that I’m ripped and everything, but these clothes! Geez, I look like I’m in an Iron Maiden tribute band or something. And the tats . . . a rattlesnake coming out of a skull? Seriously?”

  Rudy was examining all the ink he’d had laid down, along with the piercings. “How can you ever forgive me, dude?”

  “Already done,” said Will. “You made one incredibly stupid move, and then you couldn’t help yourself.”

  Rudy grabbed Will in a hug again and Will hugged him back, then playfully shoved him away.

  “Hey, enough already.”

  “I’m soooo starving! You got anything to eat?”

  “How about we cruise up to Dick’s Drive-In and get some burgers?”

  “Oh man, are you kidding me? Let’s go! I am all over that!”

  Rudy did his signature crazy-as-a-loon dance and Will smiled again. It sure looked like his little friend was back and in fine form.

  “One thing, though,” said Rudy. “Can you loan me some, like, not quite so death-goth-blackness-evil-ish clothes?”

  “Sure thing. And there’s somebody I know who will be psyched to see you.”

  Ten minutes later, they emerged from Will’s room with Rudy wearing some cords, a Jimi Hendrix T-shirt, and an army jacket. Rudy’s face lit up as he saw Natalie.

  “Rudy! I can’t believe it!” shrieked Natalie as she ran down the hall and grabbed him into a hug. And then she quickly backed off.

  “Are you . . .?”

  “I’m cool,” said Rudy. “I’m back among the living.”

  “The cure worked,” said Will.

  “Will, that’s fantastic!” Natalie exclaimed. Then, turning to Rudy, she said, “Rudy you . . . you were such a . . .”

  “I know . . . I know, I was a total scumbag punk idiot.”

  “But all is forgiven,” added Will.

  The three old friends stood smiling at each other. Then Emily’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “I so do not believe this!”

  They turned. She was standing in the doorway of her bedroom with her arms folded over her chest, eyes reproachful. “What did you do, Will?”

  “I cured him.”

  “Oh, so now he’s just gonna skate? You’re just gonna forget all the horrible things he did? He was one of them!”

  “Calm down, Emily,” said Natalie.

  “I’m not gonna calm down! He should be toast! Give me a sword or a phaser or whatever you call it, or one of your other crazy weapons, and I’ll do him! I swear it, I’ll do him!”

  Her eyes narrowed with loathing, Emily took a threatening step toward Rudy, but Natalie stepped between them.

  “Em, stop it. It wasn’t his fault.”

  “No, Natalie, she’s right,” said Rudy. “I was out of control. The things I did . . . I don’t even want to remember them. They’re gonna haunt me forever.”

  Will stepped over and took Emily by the shoulders.

  “Listen to me, Emily. He’s cured. He’s one of us now. End of story, got it?”

  She stood trembling with anger for a few more seconds, and then reluctantly nodded. She wasn’t going to turn her back on him, but she owed Will. If he wanted her to let it go, then she’d try.

  “Yeah, sure . . . I got it.”

  “Good,” said Will. “Now, who’s up for cruising out to snag some burgers?”

  They took the Beemer, and with tunes cranking they sped up to the Dick’s Drive-In in Wallingford on N.E. 45th. The place had a history, going all the way back to when burgers cost nineteen cents. The burgers hadn’t changed much over the years, which was one of the reasons they tasted out of this world. The parking lot was packed with cars, full of teenagers hanging out, along with a smattering of old-timers who had grown fat wolfing down Dick’s double cheeseburgers. An old Elvis Presley song was playing on the outdoor speakers. Will parked and got out and gestured for Rudy to do the same.

  “How about we go get the food for the girls?” he asked Rudy.

  “Soitenly!” chirped Rudy as
he got out. He smiled at the lights, smiled at the cars going by, smiled at everything in sight. He looked like he’d just been released from prison. He turned to Natalie and Emily and smiled wider as he pretended to whip out a pad and paper.

  “Good evening and welcome to Chez Dick’s, ladies. May I take your order?”

  “Double cheeseburger, fries, and a coke,” said Natalie.

  Emily was still in a funk. “I’ll have the same,” she said, refusing to look at Rudy. “Just don’t touch it, okay?”

  “Gotcha. No touching the food. I might lick it, but I won’t—”

  Emily turned and glared. “Just tell them to double bag mine, got it, Diablo?”

  “Okay, okay, I’m just messin’ with you. I won’t touch your precious food. It’s no problemo,” he said, but he looked a little hurt.

  Will and Rudy went up to the window and placed their order. The food wasn’t called “fast” for nothing, and in just a couple of minutes they had six burgers, six orders of fries, two cokes, and two chocolate shakes in hand. As they walked back to the car, Will gave Rudy a searching look.

  “How you doin’, my man?”

  “I’ll be better once I dig into these double cheeseburgers,” said Rudy.

  “How do you feel—I mean, physically?” asked Will.

  “I feel, like, normal, I guess. You know. Hungry, horny, and ready to rock and roll.”

  Will chuckled. They climbed in the car and Rudy started eating ravenously, moaning with pleasure every few bites. The old habit of his had Natalie giggling, but Emily was annoyed.

  “You’re gross,” she said. “That’s disgusting. It sounds like you’re going to the bathroom or something.”

  “Ewww! Now who’s being gross?” asked Natalie.

  Rudy ignored the insult and kept shoveling the burgers and fries into his face and gulping down his chocolate shake.

  “This is the best food on the face of the earth,” he declared. And then, after polishing off his last few bites, he cut loose with a long, loud burp. The girls shook their heads. Rudy looked over at Will.

  “Will?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks, man. I mean it. Just . . . thanks so much.”

  “No problemo.”

  “Riiiight,” said Natalie. “As if discovering, replicating, and concocting the most important antidote ever was ‘no problemo.’ Modesty, Will Hunter is thy name.”

  Natalie was proud. Really proud. But more than that, she was happy for him. She knew how much responsibility Will carried on his shoulders, and how much he wished he could live a normal life. This new discovery and the ability to cure the infected could change so much for him—for them.

  Rudy was moaning again, only this time it wasn’t because he was hoovering cheeseburgers. He was holding his stomach.

  “Ohhhhh, man. My gut feels like I swallowed a bowling ball.”

  “That’s what you get for being such a disgusting, gluttonous, pig freak hog boy,” said Emily.

  “I gotta hit the head,” said Rudy. He looked at Will. “Seriously. I think I’m gonna blast—”

  “Would someone please shut him up?” said Emily.

  “When you gotta go, you gotta go,” said Will. “So go already.”

  The threesome watched as Rudy got out and loped awkwardly toward the bathroom, looking like he was ready to either throw up or explode—possibly both.

  “Could you try to be a little nicer to him?” Natalie asked Emily as soon as Rudy closed the bathroom door behind him.

  “It just sucks, letting him off like that, like he isn’t some kind of criminal,” said Emily. “He’s a demon.”

  “Correction: he was a demon, right, Will?” said Natalie.

  Will said nothing as he stared at the bathroom door.

  Rudy was in the toilet stall, but he wasn’t sitting down. He was on top of the seat struggling to open the bathroom window.

  “Come on, you stupid thing! Open! I said, OPEN!” Rudy’s eyes flashed an angry black and the muscles in his arms flexed, tense and powerful. The window’s steel frame bent and the opaque, wire-reinforced window cracked. Rudy snorted like a horse and yanked again, ripping the window off its hinges. Then he hopped out and down into the back parking lot, terrifying two girls in a VW Beetle. He ignored them, and without so much as a backward glance he took off running, quickly disappearing into the dark night.

  Out front, Will watched calmly as the frightened girls came around and reported what they’d just seen to the manager, who grudgingly walked over and unlocked the men’s room door and stared in disbelief at the mangled window. Natalie and Emily drew in sharp breaths.

  “He took off! I told you he sucked!” said Emily.

  “Will, the cure, it must have . . . worn off or something?” It was more a question than a statement, and Natalie was looking to Will for answers.

  “What are you waiting for?” snapped Emily. “Go get him! Go blow his brains out!”

  But Will remained cool as a cucumber. He just started up the BMW’s engine.

  “Will? What do you think happened?” asked Natalie.

  “I think,” said Will, “that Rudy took the bait.”

  “What do you mean ‘took the bait’?” Emily demanded. “He just freakin’ escaped! I swear to God, Will, if he comes after me . . .”

  “He’s not going to come after you,” Will said. “I promise.”

  “Yeah, well, he could be out there right now terrorizing someone else!” said Emily.

  “It’s too soon for that. He’ll run for a bit, put some distance between us, and then he’ll seek out a pack,” said Will.

  Natalie’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. He switched on his phone and used a cable to connect it one of the BMW’s four USB ports. Then he switched on the car’s large GPS screen. She asked, “Will, what’s going on?”

  “I injected him with a placebo.”

  “A what?” asked Emily.

  “A placebo. A little caffeine mixed in with some saline.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “So I could track him. If there’s a local demon population, he’ll find them faster than I could on my own. I planted a subcutaneous tracking chip on him.”

  “You put a chip in him?” asked Natalie. “Where?”

  “On the back of his arm, just above the elbow, so he can’t easily examine it.”

  “You planned this whole thing?” asked Emily. “I was sitting right here in a car . . . with a real demon?” She looked furious.

  “Yeah. I had to have everybody come, I didn’t want him to get suspicious. Now see . . . there he is.” Will pointed at the GPS screen, where a small blinking blue dot was moving down a nearby street.

  “I’m going to take you two home, and I want you to lock down and stay that way until you hear from me. If for some reason you don’t hear from me, then go to Plan B.”

  Both girls knew that Plan B meant they were to get the heck out of Dodge, fleeing the mansion through the underground tunnel that let out onto a side alley. A getaway car, packed with essentials, was parked there. They’d drive to the Edgewater Hotel on the waterfront and wait forty-eight hours for Will to contact them. If he didn’t, it would be on to Plan C, which was essentially them fleeing with a ton of cash and new identities and starting a new life somewhere. Natalie hated the thought.

  “Okay,” she said. “But you’ll be back.” She said this not because she was certain but because she wanted to believe it, needed to believe it. The concept of losing Will forever was so painful she would not even entertain it.

  “I’ll be back,” said Will, using his best Terminator voice.

  It made Natalie feel better. If he was making jokes, he must not have been very worried.

  Will drove them home, waited until they were safely inside, and then got back in the Beemer and gunned it out through the huge iron gates. It was time to do a little demon hunting.

  Will drove back in the direction of Dick’s Drive-In, but a quick glance at the Beemer
’s GPS told him that Rudy was headed north. Will turned down Aurora Avenue, keeping an eye on the screen.

  Rudy was walking down the middle of a residential street when he felt the headlights hit him. He turned and put on his best smile. Apparently it wasn’t good enough, because the car—a brand-new silver Taurus—sped up, intending to go around him. But Rudy was having none of it, and he stepped directly in front of the car, causing the driver, Byron Sneedecker, a balding, middle-aged tire salesman, to slam on the brakes.

  Sneedecker powered down his window and glared at Rudy. “Hey! What the hell’s wrong with you? Are you some kind of moron?”

  Rudy moved so quickly around the side of the car that the driver began to shake as he rolled his window back up, made sure his doors were locked, and put his foot on the gas, intending to stomp on it as soon as Rudy opened his mouth to speak. But Rudy had other plans. He slammed his fist through the window and locked his hand around the guy’s neck. Byron Sneedecker promptly wet himself.

  “Listen,” said Rudy. “I was wondering if I could borrow your car.”

  The guy gurgled as Rudy yanked him out and threw him down on the pavement. Sneedecker was so scared that, just in case, he pulled out his wallet and threw it at Rudy, who caught it in mid-air.

  “Hey, thanks, I appreciate it. You have a nice night.”

  Rudy got into the Taurus and took off. He was thirsty, but not for chocolate shakes. He needed something stronger. He turned onto the highway, and spotted the Lion’s Mouth Tavern after just a couple of miles on the road. He pulled in, parked, and went inside. The bartender, a big guy with massive forearms stuffed into a Seahawks T-shirt, moved toward him, fully intending to give Rudy crap about being underage and toss his butt out. But once he got close enough, it was like he could smell the danger coming off Rudy. He stared down at the bar and spoke in a hushed voice.

  “What can I get you?”

  “A bottle of Johnnie. Black.”

  Without hesitation, the bartender nodded, reached up, grabbed a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label, and set it on the bar in front of Rudy, still avoiding eye contact.