Sleepers 2

by Jacqueline Druga

  While I ranted and raved how God had abandoned us, I realized that I abandoned God and there on the roof, I decided to seek Him out. I prayed for the first time in a long time, a real prayer. I begged Him to help Beck, my daughter, and me, find us a way off the roof. Get us out.

  The moans of the Sleepers only grew louder and they banged even harder against the stairwell door.

  I gave up on the prayer.

  I was a little too late in asking for help.

  Grief.

  I cried. It was a loud, full body sob, until I realized my daughter didn’t need to see that. She was already confused as to what was happening. I knew she knew something was up, she sensed our sadness, but she didn’t comprehend it.

  I cried inwardly for the losses I had suffered and the losses my son would experience. I cried for a world that had turned into no less than a nightmare; for my daughter who would never know being a woman. I cried for Beck and all that he’d done for us.

  After a while I realized no amount of crying, anger, pleading, or praying was going to stop the inevitable.

  We were going to die. It would be fast, painless and we probably would only see a flash.

  Acceptance.

  I sat down on that roof and embraced the end.

  Jessie sat between Beck and me, his large arms wrapped around us both. We said the things that needed to be said and looked to the sky.

  We waited. We were ready.

  It was time.

  “Any second,” Beck whispered, drawing us closer.

  Nothing happened.

  Now, when nothing happened, my body didn’t feel an immediate sense of relief. Anxiety unleashed and my heart raced, blood rushed to my ears and every tremble my body made ricocheted against my eardrums.

  Come on, get it over with!, I beckoned. I couldn’t take it. We were there. I was ready.

  Neither Beck nor I said anything; we just waited and stared. Finally, he looked at his watch.

  “It’s been over an hour,” he said.

  When he stood, I wanted to scream, in fact, I did scream. “No!” I grabbed his hand. “What are you doing? Don’t walk away.”

  Suddenly I had this vision of Beck at the roof’s edge and the flash occurring. He would turn and, instead of feeling him hold us close, drawing from his strength, I would only catch a glimpse of his face.

  That was not how it was supposed to happen.

  Beck held out his hand to signal ‘hold on’ and walked to the roof’s edge. He looked for a moment and turned around.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “They aren’t coming. The bombs, they aren’t coming.”

  “What? How do you know?” I stood, helping Jessie to her feet.

  “Because I have been in the military long enough to know that if there’s a scheduled drop, it’s coming, unless there’s a delay or an abort.” He drew up a look of perplexity, scratching his head. “How …” Then his eyes grew wide and he cocked his head. “Alex.”

  “What about him?”

  Beck smiled. “Alex did this. He got them to hold off. Somehow, he did it.”

  “How do you know it was Alex? How do you know there wasn’t a malfunction? Or Randy, or Danny—”

  “My gut says it wasn’t a malfunction. There is a backup plan. This drop was delayed or aborted. It had to be Alex. Danny is too emotional right now to think clearly. Randy is only focused on Phoenix and the future, but Alex … nah, come on, Mera. We know Alex. Do you actually think he’d calmly sit by and let them blow us up without a fight?”

  My face flushed and I was immediately emotional again. “No,” I whimpered. “No, he wouldn’t.”

  “No.” Beck shook his head and walked closer to me. “He did something. Caused a stink. Hell, I wouldn’t even put it past him to threaten to take Phoenix or kill him if they didn’t stop.”

  I gasped.

  “I would threaten to do that if they wanted him that badly.” Beck tilted his head. “Phoenix is their only bartering tool. But that doesn’t matter right now.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “We were given, by some chance, more time. Now we have to think. Think.” He gave a slight jolt to my body. “How can we get out of here?”

  “Ink! Ma!” Jessie inched to us; she smiled, wanting badly to join the enthusiasm.

  I laughed; it was nearly a sob. “Think,” I repeated. Then I looked at Beck’s eyes. They had a spark to them, a look of life.

  For as much as we portrayed that we were ready to leave this earth, right then and there, it was evident that we weren’t ready. We didn’t want to die.

  We stared at each other as though we were trying to do some sort of intense mental planning. How could we get out? Sleepers were like a river below us and relentlessly pushing at the stairwell door. Our bright moment of salvation seemed quick and short lived.

  We were still trapped.

  Then we heard…music.

  At the same time and the same pace, both Beck and I turned our heads to the distant sound. It was several blocks away, but it was loud. Of course, anything would be loud. And it wasn’t just normal music; it was 1980s pop rock.

  Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer will forever hold new meaning to me.

  The music blasted and a huge bonfire erupted on another rooftop. It was as bright as the North Star.

  As the music played and the fire burned, the Sleepers suddenly turned their attention to it.

  It was a diversion. A huge diversion.

  My body went from trembling and heart racing to feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I wheezed out a breath, raced to the edge of the roof and gasped. “They’re leaving!”

  Like a wave pulling back into the ocean, the Sleepers moved away from the hospital. The pounding and banging on the stairwell door slowed down and then finally stopped. The song played over and over.

  Halfway through the fourth repetition, Beck ran to the other side of the roof. He enthusiastically spun around to me. “The parking lot over there is clear; we can get to the road! Maybe run for it, find a car.”

  I nodded, and then paused. “What about the stairwell? There are Sleepers in there, I’m sure.”

  “We’ll face it. I’m positive there aren’t as many. If there are, we’ll shut the door and wait it out some more.” He ran and picked up the black bag, tossing it over his shoulder as he grabbed his rifle. He also checked his revolver.

  Leading Jessie and me to the stairwell door, he placed us flush against the wall behind the door. “I may need to use Jessie,” he said. “They won’t attack her. I’m gonna open the door, let them run through then we bolt. Got it?” He slipped his belt from his pants.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Once we get through the door, I’m securing it to the railing. It won’t hold for long, but it’ll buy us time.”

  I understood what Beck wanted to do. He was hoping to hide us behind that door, open it, and those Sleepers that stayed behind would run onto the roof and we’d slip by.

  It sounded frightening, but it was plausible. The longer the music played, the farther away the Sleepers moved.

  Quietly, Beck removed the blockade from the stairwell door. My heart raced and I awaited his signal.

  The second he opened that door, eight or ten Sleepers plowed through and raced onto the roof.

  Beck sidestepped in front of the door, raised his weapon, slammed one in the face, then called out, “Come on!”

  He yanked me as I held on to Jessie, and he flung us into the stairwell. It was nothing like it was when we first climbed up there.

  Beck moved fast, tying his belt against the doorknob and then to the railing. I wasn’t going anywhere without him. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so focused on what he was doing, because I was grabbed by a Sleeper. It grabbed my arms, and I felt its nails dig into my flesh. I barely had time to scream.

  I pulled hard to get away but the Sleeper was too fast and too strong. It was a tug of war and I lost. He jerked and the momentum of the fi
erce pull sailed me forward onto him and we flew backwards down the staircase. I felt my body roll with his, tumbling body over body, hitting hard on every metal step until we halted on the first landing and my head cracked against the concrete wall.

  Jessie cried out “Ma!” while I tried to get my bearings.

  The Sleeper had my legs pinned and his mouth was agape, ready to attack. For sure, I believed I was losing my thigh.

  Jessie jumped on his back, screaming and grabbing for him. He threw her from him. I kicked and tried not to not to draw any more attention.

  Beck was fast. Jessie hit the stairs just as the Sleeper’s teeth touched my skin, and Beck jumped down on the landing, grabbed hold of the Sleeper, braced his head, and in one hard jolt, snapped the Sleeper’s neck. In what looked like a seamless move, Sleeper still within his grip, Beck extended his right arm, aimed his revolver and fired a single shot into the forehead of an approaching Sleeper.

  For the moment, the stairwell was cleared. I knew it wouldn’t stay clear for long – the sound of the gunshot would call those remaining in the hospital.

  “You alright?” Beck asked, helping me to my feet.

  “I guess. Yeah. Yeah. I am. Let’s go.”

  Sandwiching me between him and Jessie, we rushed down the staircase, his left arm reaching all the way back to hold on to Jessie as he aimed forward with his weapon, leading us at a high speed down the four remaining flights of stairs.

  It was like a video game. Doors would fly open bringing Sleepers toward us. Beck would try not to shoot; he’d fight them off and keep running with us.

  He did, however, have to fire four more times, four more warning bells for the Sleepers.

  The music was muffled in the stairwell, and I was beginning to think it had stopped, but once we reached the lobby, I could hear it again. It was louder and was probably the reason for very few Sleepers remaining there.

  In the months that I had known Beck, I had never seen him fight for his life – for our lives – as he did in that hospital lobby.

  He punched them, hit them, threw them, driven by an unstoppable force, a desire to live.

  I could only imagine that he felt as I did. We were given a second chance and we weren’t going to waste a second of it.

  The best I could do was follow him and hold my daughter close as he determinedly cleared a path.

  Once outside, the parking lot looked empty and that Bon Jovi song had never sounded so sweet. It filled the air instead of Sleeper groans and snarls.

  Filled with adrenaline, I ran with Beck and Jessie across the parking lot, down the street and to the ramp where we had left the van.

  One Sleeper followed us at top speed, but he seemed to give up at the bottom of the ramp, turning his attention to the music and running in that direction as if the music were much more easily attainable.

  We caught our breath. To be honest I was wheezing and my heart beat so fast, I swore I was going to have a heart attack.

  Bent over holding my knees, I could not only feel the pain from my fall start to creep upon me, but also a wave of nausea hit. I was going to vomit.

  Beck leaned against the van. Jessie seemed fine. She was young and fit, and was only slightly winded.

  I was still unable to stand straight I was so out of breath, and Jessie patted my back believing I was choking. I looked at Beck. “What now?”

  His raised his hand, breathing heavily, then coughed. “Take a second and head out. As far as we can on the …”

  He stopped talking, slowly stood up straight and looked. Was it a Sleeper?

  Fearfully I turned my head.

  About a hundred yards away was a truck. There were no lights on the highway and the moon was the only illumination, but I clearly see that the truck door was open. A male figure stood there waving and then headlights flashed off and on twice.

  A moment’s reprise and they did it again.

  Off. On.

  He was signaling us. He had to be the one who caused the diversion. He had to be. He’d saved our lives.

  I looked excitedly to Beck. “You think it’s Alex?”

  “I’m betting.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”

  I giggled for an instant like a schoolgirl. I never thought I could be so happy. We were safe. We were going to make it out of the city before the bombs arrived.

  Beck, Jessie, and I, we weren’t going to die. At least not on this night.

  The three of us, Beck holding my hand as I held Jessie’s, moved at a quick pace toward the truck, picking up speed as we drew nearer. Our gratefulness and eagerness pushed us to the vehicle.

  We were running then, and when we got to about ten feet before the truck, the figure stepped from behind the driver’s door and into view.

  “Thank God it worked,” he said. “Thank God.”

  I had all of about ten seconds to comprehend. I looked over to Beck who stopped cold in his tracks with a look of shock. Jessie shrieked and raced to him.

  Me, well, I don’t know what happened after Jessie let go of my hand. Everything turned black and I passed out.

  It was the shock of seeing him.

  It couldn’t be.

  But it was.

  Pastor Michael.

  6. MERA STEVENS

  I thought he was dead. I swore he was dead.

  I saw him die.

  “No, you didn’t,” Michael said, handing me a bottle of water.

  I guess they loaded me in the truck and drove off. When I came to, water was being rubbed on my face. We were off the road, and from what I was told, only a few hundred yards from where Michael picked us up. I was out only briefly.

  “We can’t stay here long,” Michael told me. “We have to keep moving, at least until daybreak.”

  “I … I saw you die. I saw you killed.”

  “No, you didn’t. You saw me get covered by Sleepers. You saw them swarm around me,” Michael explained. “Imagine the scariest, freakiest movie you’ve ever seen. It pales in comparison to that moment in my life.” He exhaled and stood up. “It still makes me shiver.” Michael shuddered. “They reached for me, grabbed for me, their mouths were open and then … they just stopped. They stopped. They didn’t move, didn’t attack, they just stared at me.” Michael lifted his head; his focus was elsewhere, his mind almost entranced. “Stared. Their eyes were blank, and they were looking at me as if they were trying to figure out what I was. I was on the ground and … I got up and pushed my way out. By the time I got out of the crowd, you guys were gone.”

  My hand shot to my mouth. “Why do you think that was?” I looked at Beck. “Beck? Do you know?”

  Beck glanced at Michael for a few seconds, then to me. “No. I haven’t a clue. How did you find us?” he asked Michael.

  “Wasn’t that hard.” Michael stood. He finished his water and tossed the bottle. “When you left I had to find transportation, but I was safe in the church. The basement. The Sleepers never bothered me again.” He shrugged. “I kept calling out on the other radio. Eventually Miles got a hold of me, told me where you guys were headed. I was already a day behind, but I figured if I didn’t stop for the night, like you would, I might catch you. Plus, I figured, you know, maybe I was blessed and the Sleepers wouldn’t get me.” He shrugged again. “I was smart enough to realize they were lifting you out. The Reckoning mentioned in the Doctrines would probably take place and the rush had to do with sealing the ARC. To me that meant they were burning out the Sleepers. Nukes, maybe.”

  “Why didn’t you stay put then?” Beck asked. “Why put yourself in danger?”

  “Alex said something to me once,” Michael said pensively. “He said that he had everything he needs at his haven to survive, but he didn’t have a reason. A person needs a reason to survive or they aren’t really living.”

  Beck smiled peacefully. And then he added, “Amen to that, Padre.”

  “Indeed.” Michael smiled. “In those two months, you guys became my reason. I’d rather die tryi
ng to live than to live without ever trying.”

  There was so much truth in his words that an agreeable solemn silence surrounded us. We had sat long enough and Michael reiterated that we had to go. He finished his story in the truck.

  He told us how he had arrived too late. He saw the chopper leaving and sat on the highway for a while debating what he would do. He knew in his heart something was up because the Sleepers were like ants at a picnic surrounding one crumb. They still reached and cried for the hospital. Something or someone had to be where they were. So he went across town to another building, and using binoculars, he spotted Beck, and that’s how he figured out we were trapped.

  Then Michael did what he was the master of … he created a diversion.

  We all debated on whether to head to Colorado Springs, the location that we were last told to go. But Beck and Michael felt it best to drive northeast, away from civilization, away from populated areas, away from the infected. To drive into isolation and wait, until at least The Reckoning was over. If, indeed, it still was going to take place.

  I tried to rest on the drive, but my body started to feel the effects of the tumble down the stairs, scratches from the Sleepers, and the running.

  I was exhausted but I was grateful and for some reason, I felt extremely at peace.

  7. ALEX SANS

  The feeling of failure radiated through my bones and swirled in the pit of my stomach forming a sickening knot. Sitting in the huge hollow Chinook chopper didn’t help. It was designed to lift many people. We were just a few. We sat close to the front, and the chopper looked and felt empty.

  Phoenix felt my anxiety. The little guy, who usually cuddled, squirmed and whined as I held him. I ended up handing him to Danny.

  I told Danny I was sorry, but I honestly felt I couldn’t apologize enough. There I was, this big shot with the big foolproof plan, and I had failed.

  “They got away, Alex, trust me, I know they did. You know they did,” Danny said. “Beck’s stuff was gone.”

  “How?”