A Violent World

by Paul Seiple

  Mitch waited in silence. He stared at Morris, who tapped the tablet screen.

  "He's definitely in there, sir," Morris said.

  "This is my last attempt at niceties, Alan," Mitch said.

  "Niceties?" Alan laughed. He sat up in the nook of the rafter and kicked his feet against the wood like a child. There was something morbidly funny about the situation. Death was seconds, at the most, minutes away, and the world had become more peaceful for Alan. He was tired of running, tired of trying to right his wrongs. The greed and power of joining ARMA had cost Alan everything. As long as he kept running, he didn't have to face the hangman. Now the hangman was staring, probably nervously, at his watch, waiting for Alan to give in. One last “fuck you” to the hangman as well. He eyed Mitch through a crack in the wood. Mitch was in the perfect spot for the blast.

  Alan stuck his hand into his bag and pulled out a 9mm pistol. He had carried it for two years waiting for this moment. There was one bullet. Alan had planned to use it to join Liz after she became sick and he had to end her suffering. As he held the gun to his temple, he pictured Liz mocking him for taking the coward’s way out and then saying, "Save that bullet for the bastard." Liz's voice was clear. She was still with him. She would be with Alan until the end. He measured Mitch through the crack and felt confident he could put the bullet in the bastard.

  "I'm a little hurt, Mitch. You say you came all this way to see me, yet you're going to send your sheep after me. That reeks of cowardice."

  After a few moments of silence, Mitch said, "Ouch. Talk about being hurt. The word ‘coward’ cuts me deep. You know I'm far from a coward, Alan."

  Alan watched through the crack as Mitch motioned for soldiers to enter the barn. Alan took a deep breath. His muscles tightened. He aimed for Mitch's head and pulled the trigger. The bullet caught Mitch in the upper chest.

  "Shit, I was aiming for the head. I should have never canceled that eye appointment," Alan said. He crouched as gunfire lit up the surrounding wood.

  Shadows entered the barn. Alan never saw the soldiers. The first one hit the tripwire. At the sound of the explosion, Alan pulled the pins on the grenades, dropping them onto the gasoline-soaked hay. The barn lit in a bright orange cloud before the heat hit.

  "That one's for you, Liz," Alan said before the force of the explosion sent him through the small covered section of the roof.

  Thirty-Two

  Melanie opened a can of chili. She poured the contents into a pot on the stove. "How's your ankle?" she asked, standing on the tips of her toes to reach bowls from the cabinet.

  "I need something stronger than Ibuprofen," James said.

  "I'll go on a run later and see if I can find some painkillers," Melanie said.

  "Oli needs them more than me. Just try to find some vodka," James said.

  Melanie took a seat next to James at the kitchen table. "Is he gonna make it?"

  "As long as infection doesn't get him. He's lucky. None of his major organs were hit."

  "Knock, knock," Nick said, walking into the kitchen with his hands over his eyes. "Everyone decent?"

  "Everyone but you," James said.

  Nick placed his hands over his heart. "Ouch."

  "How did you put up with him this long?" James said as Q entered the room.

  "He's actually pretty good at killing the dead," Q said.

  "That's ‘cause they are dead," James said.

  "Speaking of the dead, have you noticed them evolving lately?" Q asked.

  "We haven't seen too many of them. The ones Alan and I fought yesterday were different, though. It was like they were newly turned, but that's impossible," Melanie said.

  "Yeah, we tussled with geriatric bastards on the way here that looked freshly turned," Nick said.

  "It seemed they were getting younger in death." Q paused and thought about how ridiculous that sounded. "Hair was regenerating in bald spots."

  "Wrinkles were disappearing. If we could bottle that, we could make millions," Nick said. "I mean, if QVC was still around."

  "What do you think it means?" Melanie asked.

  "I'm afraid Judas has perfected a master/slave relationship with the infected," Q said.

  "Kinky," Nick said.

  "Are you ever going to grow up?" James asked.

  "Probably not, but I did create a way for us to communicate undetected," Nick said.

  "It stopped working, genius," James said.

  "It still works. I just need a battery for my phone," Nick said. "You and I are the only ones who have the ability to use it."

  "Why didn't you just take the battery from Q's phone?" James asked.

  "He made me throw it away a long time ago," Q said.

  "And you're welcome for that," Nick said. "Need I remind you, ARMA was tracking you?"

  "Why didn't you just use Daria's battery? She's a kid. All kids had phones before the apocalypse." James said.

  "She has a Samsung. Don't get me started," Nick said.

  "OK, why didn't you just install the app on her phone?" James asked.

  "And how do you expect me to get the app on her phone?"

  "That's something you should have thought about when you designed the game," James said.

  "Fine. I'll just go back in time and fix that little problem," Nick said.

  "Impress me and fix that smart bomb," James said.

  "You're still acting like children," Melanie said. "Do you really think you can recreate the bomb?"

  "The one I have isn't that damaged, so it's possible," Nick said.

  Melanie scooped chili from the pot into four bowls and placed them on the table. Nick lifted a bowl with an image of Scooby Doo on it.

  "You got that one ‘cause you're a child," James said.

  "You can't hurt my feelings," Nick said, shoving a spoon into the chili.

  "Do you think that blast we heard earlier was Alan?" Melanie asked.

  "Probably," Q said.

  "And what if it didn't kill Mitch?" Melanie asked.

  "Then he will eventually come here. He knows Alan was here. Mitch wants Nick. I'm sure he figured Alan was trying to find us," Q said.

  "And if he does come here?" Melanie asked.

  "Let's hope the tech whiz can fix the bomb before that happens," James said.

  Nick smiled with chili smeared in the stubble on his face.

  A sound similar to a dying siren on an ambulance rang through the kitchen.

  "What the hell is that?" Nick said.

  "Intruders," Melanie said, springing up from the chair. She reached for a pistol on the counter. She handed it to Nick. "Stay with James." Melanie grabbed Q's wrist. "Come with me."

  Melanie ran into Denise as she exited to the front porch.

  "A horde broke through," Denise said.

  "Where?" Melanie asked.

  "South side. It's about twenty or so. And... they are wearing those blue jumpsuits," Denise said.

  "ARMA," Melanie said.

  Daria ran by, followed by a group of kids.

  "Daria," Q said, chasing after them.

  Melanie and Denise trailed behind Q. Melanie picked up her pace and passed Q. Carolyn was ahead of them, surrounded by three of the infected. She had nothing to defend herself.

  "Carolyn," Q said, drawing the attention of two dead women.

  Daria plunged a knife into the eye of one of the women. Sarah took out the knee of the other and sank an ax into the woman's head. Q ran by and knocked a man to the ground as he grabbed Carolyn's arm. Daria slipped the knife into the base of the man's neck and jerked upwards. Sarah grabbed the zombie closest to Carolyn and Melanie stuck him underneath the chin with a butcher's knife. Q pulled Carolyn away from the fray.

  "Are you OK?" he asked.

  Carolyn nodded. "They came out of nowhere."

  Denise pushed by Q and Carolyn. She swung a knife at the throat of a man who didn't look infected. He leaned back, dodging the blade.

  "Behind you," Q said. He left Carolyn to slow down an infec
ted woman who crept up on Denise. Q lowered a shoulder into the woman, lifting her from the ground. She fell onto her back, rolled onto her side, and got to her feet.

  "Here," Denise said, tossing her hatchet to Q. "There's something very different with these zombies."

  The infected woman stood in front of Q. She tilted her head, eyeing the hatchet. "She's sizing me up," Q said.

  Denise took another jab at the man. He moved again, causing her to stumble forward. She dropped the knife as she palmed the ground in hopes of regaining balance. The man lurched forward and pushed Denise down. He sank his teeth into the back of her neck. Denise's scream was followed by a sickening snap, and then silence as he tore hair and flesh from her body.

  "No. Denise," Melanie said, stabbing the man repeatedly in the back of the head. His blood speckled her face. Daria grabbed Melanie's shoulders and pulled her off the man.

  "She's gone," Daria said.

  Q faked a swinging motion toward the woman nearing him. She swayed to dodge. Q telegraphed her move. He snapped her knee with his heel. She fell. Q lodged the hatchet into the side of her head.

  Steven, Ben, and Anne joined Sarah to hold off two more of the infected. Melanie broke free from Daria and ran toward the zombies. She screamed as she knocked one to the ground and sank the knife into his forehead. She had her knees buried in his armpits. She raised the knife above her head and plunged it into his face again. Melanie's face was crimson. Her hair was matted with blood.

  Daria started toward her. Q stopped her.

  "No, let her be," he said.

  The other zombie was no match for the kids. Sarah sliced his face with her knife. Steven slapped a shovel against the side of his head. The zombie tumbled forward, and Ben smashed a rock into the back of his skull.

  Melanie fell off of the man and lay on her back crying.

  "I'm supposed to protect my people," Melanie said.

  "Are there any more?" Q asked.

  "One," Daria said.

  A woman, who looked to be in her early thirties, moved toward the group. Everyone took a deep breath and watched her. She didn't look sick. Her long, blonde hair was groomed. Her complexion was a healthy pinkish hue.

  Daria glanced at what was left of the woman Q hit with the hatchet. She looked healthy as well.

  "They're not any different from us," Daria said.

  "Bullshit. They are dead," Sarah said.

  "Are they?" Steven asked.

  "We need this one alive..." Q hesitated. "Don't kill... try to capture her."

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" Sarah asked. "That thing wants to eat us."

  "There's some rope over there," Steven said, pointing to a barn.

  "I'll get it," Ben said.

  The infected woman stopped and watched Ben run toward the shed.

  "What is she doing?" Daria asked.

  "She's thinking," Q said.

  "That's impossible. These things are brain dead," Sarah said.

  "Actually, the brain is the only thing alive," Q said.

  Ben handed the rope to Q and placed his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Melanie sat up and wiped the blood from her face.

  "We could use your help," Daria said.

  "Lure her towards you," Q said to Melanie.

  Melanie got to her feet. "Over here, bitch."

  "I like her," Daria said.

  "Here, take this," Q said, handing an end of the rope to Daria. "Run in front of her. When I tell you, pull the rope up to her shins and run behind her."

  Daria ran in front of the woman. Q motioned for her to lift the rope. The woman eyed the ground and jumped over the rope.

  "No fucking way," Daria said.

  Sarah ran by Daria with the shovel and hit the woman in the back, knocking her forward to the ground.

  "I mean, you had to think it was possible. They dodged our attacks," Sarah said.

  Daria wrapped the rope around the woman's legs. Q and Melanie helped secure her.

  "What now?" Daria asked.

  "Now we figure out what the hell is going on with Judas," Q said.

  "It's like tenth grade biology all over again," Q said, studying the microscope in James’s makeshift office in a horse barn.

  "Hey, it's better than nothing," James said, hobbling over to a stall.

  The captured, infected woman was tied to a beam at the back of a stall. She made no noise, just stared at James.

  "It's amazing. She shows no physical signs of the virus," James said.

  "I can't make anything out under this scope," Q said.

  "It's good for catching Giardia in water," James said.

  "This is a little more serious than that," Q said. "Is this all the equipment you have?"

  "I'm afraid so. There is an abandoned hospital not far from here, but there's no power."

  "I guess we’ll have to wing it," Q said.

  "Anything?" Melanie asked, handing James a bottled water.

  "We're not really set up to study Judas here," James said.

  "How far is the hospital?" Q asked.

  "Maybe thirty miles. Why?" Melanie asked.

  "We're going to have to move her there to study Judas," Q said. "It's just not possible here."

  "There's no power," Melanie said.

  "James mentioned that. You've done pretty good here, and we have Nick. It's the only way we can figure out this latest evolution of Judas," Q said.

  A guttural sound from the infected woman drew their attention. They moved to the stall. The woman was still fixated on James. She opened her mouth, and said, "k-e-r-a-t-i-n."

  "Did that thing just speak?" Melanie asked.

  Epilogue

  Three Months Later

  The building looked as though it had survived the apocalypse under the protection of an invisible force field. The tall man stopped to survey the carnage surrounding the building. The invisible shield theory wasn't possible. Or was it? Given everything he knew about ARMA, it couldn't be ruled out.

  He tightened the grip on his pistol and stepped over a pile of rubble. He didn't expect trouble. The city was dead but being prepared was what kept him alive.

  "How have you not fallen?" he asked, staring at the building. He blew the hair from his eyes, sidestepped another pile of bricks, and examined the door. No damage. No one had tried to break in. He looked over his shoulder at the desolate surroundings and turned the doorknob. The door wasn't locked.

  He clutched the pistol until his knuckles whitened. A small part of him still worried this was a trap. He hadn't come this far to turn away. He placed the toe of his boot against the door and gently opened it. The air was thick with dust. The smell hinted at neglect. It made him feel a bit safer as he stepped inside. A few rays of light forced through the dirt clinging to the windows. The building was a Jekyll and Hyde. The outside looked unscathed. The inside looked dead, and from the accumulation of dirt, death had come calling a long time ago.

  He pulled a flashlight from his bag and tapped it against his thigh. It had become a routine. The batteries were close to giving out. He was sure all the rain had caused corrosion as well. The only thing that mattered was the light needed to last long enough for him to find answers. There was a good chance ARMA destroyed everything before imploding. He didn't have any specific questions, so any answers as to why Judas was created to destroy humankind would be considered a victory.

  The first floor was bare. He made his way to a door that led to a second floor. The neglect wasn't as bad. This floor had a few pieces of furniture in the center of the room with doors on opposite sides. One door had an arrow pointing upwards with the words THIRD FLOOR etched next to it. The other door had an arrow pointing down and FOURTH FLOOR written beside it.

  "That's weird."

  He opened the door to the third floor and leaned through the threshold to examine the stairwell.

  "Yeah, it definitely goes up."

  He moved on to the other door.

  "If four is below three, there has to be somethin
g good there."

  He went down the stairs to the fourth floor. It seemed to be an abandoned command center that resembled a telemarketing call center. There wasn’t much neglect, even though it was obvious the room hadn’t been used in a long while. He opened a door at the opposite side of the command center. The stairs led to a door with SIXTH FLOOR RESTRICTED etched in gold on a plate on the wall.

  “What happened to five?”

  He put his foot against the door and turned the knob. The door eased open. Clean air hit him. He coughed. It was foreign to his sense of smell. For so long, the stench of rot and death mixed with smoke had been all he was used to. He took a moment and inhaled deeply. Coughing more violently this time. The clean air burned his lungs. He did it again before entering the room.

  There was a small lobby and two office doors. The lack of dust and neglect made him nervous. He clutched the pistol again. The beam from the flashlight flickered and died, leaving him in darkness.

  "Figures."

  He pounded the flashlight against his thigh again. Light sputtered long enough for him to read MITCHELL ASHE on a gold plate beside one of the doors. Once again, he was surrounded with pitch black.

  "What do I have to lose?" he asked, fumbling for the light switch. He flipped it. Nothing. He laughed and pawed around for the door handle before entering Mitchell Ashe's office. The room lit up as he stepped through the threshold. The bright light blinded him. He dropped the revolver and dove underneath a desk as he bent to pick it up. He expected to be ambushed at any moment. He crouched under the oak desk for a minute or two, but nothing happened.

  Once his heart rate returned to normal, he scanned the office. It was immaculate. Not a drop of dust. Clean fresh air. The walls were white. The floor and ceiling matched the walls. It was sterile like a hospital.

  "There is no way someone abandoned this place," he whispered as he stepped out from under the desk. He moved to a door and assumed it led to a closet. He was wrong. It actually opened to a narrow hallway with a door at the end.

  "Level Seven," he said, opening the door, which revealed an elevator. He looked around for stairs, knowing that without power, there was no chance at seeing what was on the secret level. Then again, the lights worked in Ashe's office. "What the hell," he said, and pushed the button. Nothing happened. He banged his fist against the elevator door.