“How do you know that?” But as he asked, he realized what had to have happened. Alex was supposed to be celebrating Thanksgiving with his girlfriend. “Sifu, where’s Jeanette?”
Alex looked up at him and slid his pistol back into its holster. He looked away. “It’s like they’re fine, then something goes wrong in their head. You can see it in their eyes… something like terror, like they know it’s happening to them and they can’t stop it. Then they’re just gone. They’re replaced by this laughing, insane… thing, and all they want to do is rip your face off.”
Ross saw silent tears running down his friend’s face, and felt the sudden need to concentrate on his heartbeat. After a moment or two, Alex suddenly sniffed, wiped his eyes, and turned to Ross. “So, when I got your text, it occurred to me that your little Zen master trick might help keep you on an even keel.” He looked into Ross’s eyes, studying him. “You are on an even keel, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I had a… a moment when I saw some people outside get killed. I lost control and had a seizure. But I’m working on keeping myself in the zone.”
Alex nodded. “Good. Then that makes two of us. Everyone else I’ve seen in the last hour is bat-shit crazy.” He stood and walked around the dorm room. “So where’s the TV?”
“I don’t have one.”
Alex stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Think about it. I can’t let myself laugh, or I have a seizure. So no comedy. Can’t let myself get scared, so no horror. Just about everything on TV is made to make you laugh, jump, or cry. Even the news gets people pissed off.”
“Huh. Never thought of it like that.”
Ross went to his laptop and sat down. “I was checking online earlier. Lots of people were posting about this.” He called up a news site. There was only one topic, and the headline said it all: CHUCKLERS EPIDEMIC RUNS RAMPANT.
Alex, reading the article over Ross’s shoulder, hissed. “Kampala Syndrome? Symptoms are uncontrollable laughter accompanied by fits of rage and violence. Well, no shit!”
Ross went to another site. “Outbreaks reported in nearly every major city. Dangerously high contagion rate. No known cure yet.” He tried several more sites, but what it all boiled down to was that no one really knew anything more, although several people made all kinds of guesses. Some made the usual end of the world type predictions, others urged people to stay in their homes and tape up the windows. One that caught his eye was from someone who claimed to be an epidemiologist with the CDC. He claimed that laughter was a trigger event, and that you should try to keep from laughing at all costs. There was a short video of an interview with another doctor who explained what she had found while studying some of the first patients. Then she had gone crazy, herself. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, that’s what I saw, too. But do you understand what she said about us all being infected?”
Ross nodded. “I think so. Bottom line is that this thing is already in our blood, or our head, or whatever. It’s just waiting on a trigger.”
“And that trigger is the thing you’ve spent your whole life learning to avoid. I guess you’re about the safest person there is to be around.”
But Ross was thinking about Erica. He pulled out his phone again. There still wasn’t any reply to his text. He started typing another message to her.
“What are you doing?”
“Warning Erica not to laugh.”
“You know she’s probably already—”
“No, she isn’t. Think about it. Laughter is the trigger. She’s been busy burying the man who raised her, and settling his affairs. That’s not exactly a cheerful activity.”
“Okay, but didn’t you say she was in Texas?”
“Yes.”
“So what are you planning to do, go get her?”
Until that moment, Ross hadn’t really planned anything at all. But hearing Alex put that into words, he suddenly decided. “Yes, I am.”
“But you can’t drive. Your condition—”
“But you can. You can drive me.”
Alex was silent.
“Come on, Sifu. I have to try, and it’s either you drive me, or I start walking. Maybe find a bicycle.”
“You know how to ride a bicycle?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Alex sighed. “All right. You and me, brother. But I need you to help me, too.”
“What?”
“I need you to teach me the meditation techniques you use. Seems like that’s a lot more important now than it was a few days ago.”
“You got it.” He stuck out his hand and they sealed the deal with a shake. “Thanks.”
Alex shrugged. “No big deal. Hell, we’ll probably get ourselves killed on the first day, anyway.”
“Nope. I have faith.”
“Never figured you for the religious type.”
“I’m not. I have faith in us. We have a decent idea about what’s going on. We have our training, our swords, your pistol. We know not to laugh, and we know where we’re going.”
“Great. We’re the fucking dynamic duo.” Alex sighed.
“Kung Fu style,” Ross agreed.
Chapter 60
Erica Chapman
Xterra
Erica put a hand on Matt’s arm, and they approached the bathroom door together. Once again, the dim light from the hallway showed the opening of the door and he peeked around the corner. Turning to her, he nodded and slipped out. She followed close on his heels as he crept down the hall. A few interminable seconds later, they were at the metal door to the garage. He held up three fingers. Then two. Then one. Then he pushed the bar on the door.
The door opened smoothly and silently. Erica thanked her lucky stars as they slipped through the doorway unnoticed. She was about to let the door close and follow him into the darkness when he stopped her. “Hold the door,” he whispered. “If it makes noise when it closes, they’ll be all over us. Let me find something to prop it with.”
She swallowed her fear and nodded, and he disappeared into the inky black of the shop. It was only seconds before he returned with a screwdriver. Turning the handle into the hallway, he let the door slowly close on the shaft, keeping it from shutting all the way. He nodded to her and she turned her light back on. Taking the lead, she held the light before them while he carried the lockbox, and they made their way across the four bay workshop. As they approached the opposite wall, Erica saw an emergency exit sign mounted above another metal door. “This way,” she whispered, and hit the bar on the door.
Her heart flip-flopped as a new alarm sounded. “Damn!”
“Come on.” Matt shouldered past and out the door. Outside once again, they heard car horns, screams, and the incessant laughter floating like a horrific soundtrack to the night. They were on the back side of the dealership, so they couldn’t see the main street, but those sounds reminded them of the terror that was loose in the night. Erica hurried to follow her rescuer as he crept along, hugging the back wall and muttering to himself. Suddenly, he stopped, “There it is!”
He ran to a ladder on the side of the building. “That’s your plan?” She looked at him in disbelief. “We’ll be trapped.”
He pulled the box to his chest and zipped his jacket over it. “Trust me. I have an idea.”
“How are we going to get up there anyway?” Erica indicated the metal mesh cage that covered the bottom third of the ladder. It was obviously intended to keep unauthorized people off of the roof.
He drew his pistol. “Get behind me.” And he aimed at the lock on the mesh door.
She hurried to duck behind him and he fired once. “All right. Climb, before we find out if any of them heard that.”
She pulled the door of the cage open, slipped through, and scrambled up the ladder to the roof, banging her Bois d’Arc talisman against the rungs as she climbed. Matt was beside her in a moment. “Now what?” she asked.
For answer, he unzipped his jacket, and laid the lockbox on the roof. “Shine your
light on that.”
She got behind him and held the light where he could see the box. Another shot rang out and when she peeked around him, there was a jagged hole where the lock had been. He opened the box to the sight of dozens of keys. He scooped out a handful and handed them to her. “Go to the edge of the roof and start hitting the panic button on the key fobs. We’re looking for one of the big trucks or SUVs. If the car you light up isn’t a big one, leave the alarm blaring on it as a distraction.” He grabbed another handful of keys for himself and ran to the edge to do the same. Within minutes, they had fourteen car alarms going, with the emergency lights flashing off and on. Unfortunately, the noise drew the attention of the crazies also, and they began to pour into the parking lot from all around. In no time, there were hundreds of them, screaming, laughing, and pounding on the cars as the alarms pierced the night.
“Got one,” he called.
Erica hurried over to him. He pointed, and she saw their target. Then he shut it off. “Now we need to turn off any alarm that’s anywhere between us and that SUV. We want all sorts of noise going as far away from it as we can get. It’ll draw those… people away from where we’re heading.”
It actually made a lot of sense, and she hurried to go through the keys again, shutting off the closer alarms, and turning on as many others as she could. They hurried back down the ladder and Matt took the lead. Pistol at the ready, he led her to a darkened corner of the building, approaching the front of the lot. Matt held up his hand and motioned for her to get down. As she did so, a man in a hoodie and sweatpants ran past, laughing as he slapped his hands on the sides of the vehicles he passed. He was followed by another man who waved a small claw hammer over his head. Matt stuck his head out around the corner, then waved Erica forward. Together, the two of them ran hunched over to the first row of cars and squatted between a pair of Sentras. Matt raised his head to peek through the windows, then waved her on to the next row. They were halfway between the two rows when a creepy voice sounded from behind her.
“Peek-a-boo, I see you!” She spun to find a teenaged boy, dragging a tire iron through the pristine paint of the Sentra they had just left. He grinned from ear to ear, but there was nothing friendly in his countenance. He raised the tire iron and rushed at her, cackling at the top of his lungs. “Peek-a-boo! Peek-a-boo! Peek-a-boo!”
Just as he began to swing the iron, Erica checked him with the butt of her lacrosse stick, poking him hard in the shoulder just enough to throw him off balance. Then she swung the stick down across his forearm in a move that would have gotten her a slashing penalty in any game before tonight. She heard the forearm crack. Then, since she was already in penalty territory, she figured she might as well go for broke and swung the shaft around to catch him cleanly on the side of the head. The kid dropped like a rock.
She looked up to see that the altercation hadn’t gone unnoticed. Half a dozen laughing lunatics started running their way. Matt shouted, “Run!” He might not be much for eloquence, but it was still sage advice. Erica turned and followed Matt through the maze of cars. She had no idea where they were in relation to the vehicle they had targeted. She had no idea how many of those crazies were chasing them, though the sound indicated the crowd was growing. All she knew was that Matt had the pistol, and he was ahead of her. If she lost him, she knew she would be ripped to pieces. That was enough for the moment.
A man in a Stetson and a jean jacket leapt out and grabbed Matt’s shoulder. Erica swung the stick and caught the cowboy at the base of the skull before Matt had a chance to turn. The Stetson went flying as the man dropped. Matt grabbed her hand and they continued running. “How much farther?” she panted.
For answer, he let go of her hand and pressed the key fob. Parking lights blinked three rows ahead. The lights silhouetted the outline of four or five laughers between them and the SUV. They rushed forward even as Matt and Erica rushed at them. Matt raised his hand and fired, dropping the first two before they even got close. He hit a third one, a woman in a Christmas sweater, but she only slowed. The last one was a tall man with a beard, and he was on Matt before he could fire again.
Erica drove her stick into the throat of sweater lady, stepped aside, and swung down against her knee. She dropped momentarily, but turned to reach for Erica as she fell. Erica tried to slip past, but felt a sharp tug from behind, and fell gracelessly onto her ass. She panicked as she heard raucous cackling grow louder as sweater lady dragged her back by her purse strap. Erica swung Old Yaller wildly behind her head, but without being able to see her target, she missed. Dropping the useless stick to the ground, she struggled to get free of the leather strap dragging her down. Maneuvering the tightening strap over her shoulder and head, she slipped free of her purse and thought for a second she had escaped, then felt a hand grab her left sleeve. She screamed and reached down to find her lacrosse stick on the pavement beside her. Pivoting where she sat on the concrete, she swung and hit sweater lady on the shoulder hard enough to break her grip. She swung again, putting her lights out.
Erica looked up and saw Matt still struggling with the bearded man. The man held Matt’s gun hand away from them, and gnashed his teeth at Matt’s throat. Erica scramble to her feet, ran forward and swung again. This one didn’t drop as easily as the woman had, but the blow distracted him enough to let Matt jab the car key into his face. The big guy batted the key from Matt’s hand, sending it flying toward Erica, but he still didn’t let go of Matt’s gun hand. Erica swung again, aiming this time for the arm that held Matt’s pistol immobile, and saw the force of her blow bend the man’s elbow in a manner that nature had never intended. Matt got his pistol free, brought it to the man’s chest, and fired twice.
Erica scooped up the key from where it had fallen and shouted. “I got it, Matt! We gotta go!” Dozens of them were running toward them. Erica clicked the fob again, and the two of them sprinted for the flashing lights of the Nissan Xterra in the outermost row. It was a bright yellow model, and she ran around it and yanked the driver’s door open, tossed her lacrosse stick in the back seat, and jammed the key in the ignition. The SUV started immediately just as Matt yanked open the passenger door. Erica looked back at their pursuers and jammed her thumb at the locking mechanism.
“Looks like you’re driving again, lady. How about we get the hell outta here?”
A loud clang startled her and she looked to her left to find one of the crazies drawing back for another swing with a golf club. Seriously? A golf club? She shifted into gear and stomped the gas pedal to the floor. The Xterra reacted like a champ, and the loud bang of the club on the hood of the SUV as they took off was nothing compared to the sound of screeching metal as the four-wheel-drive mowed down the chain-link fence surrounding the lot. But that fence was the only thing between them and the highway home, and Erica wasn’t about to let it stop her after all they’d been through in the last hour. Part of the fence caught on the rear bumper, and the Xterra dragged it down the road, a trail of sparks illuminating their path for several yards until Erica jumped the median, crossed the road to avoid another burning wreck, and sped off down the highway.
They crossed the I-10 overpass and left the mad streets of Katy behind them. As they descended the far side of the overpass, the only sign that anything was unusual was the orange glow in the rearview mirror, an indication of the many fires burning behind them. Erica drove in silence for the first mile, unconsciously following the route back to the ranch as she tried like hell to wrap her head around what had just happened. Her passenger showed no inclination to chatter either, and she assumed he was as lost as she was.
“Erica?”
“Yeah?”
“I just wanted to thank you.”
Erica furrowed her brows. “For what?”
He shrugged. “You saved my life.”
“I think you have that backwards. You’re the one with the gun, remember? I’d be dead several times over if you hadn’t saved me.”
He shrugged. “So we’ll call it
even.”
Erica just nodded.
“You mind if I use your phone?”
She reached for her purse, then cursed.
“What is it?”
“I lost my purse. My phone was in it.” There was a text from Ross on it! Is he all right?
After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, “I don’t suppose I could get you to take me home?”
“Where’s home?”
He pursed his lips. “Back in the other direction, on the other side of Katy.”
Erica shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m sorry, but I’m not driving back through that shit in the middle of the night. That’s just insane.”
“But you wouldn’t have to go back the same way. We can skirt around town. I know the back roads.”
“We don’t know if it’s any better than what we just went through. No, we’re almost to the ranch, and there’s a phone there you can use.”
Matt dropped it, but she could tell he wasn’t happy about the situation. But they reached the ranch shortly, and she grabbed her trusty lacrosse stick from the back seat. Going to the front door, Erica paused, then cursed.
“What?”
“My keys were in my purse.”
“Need me to break a window?”
“No.” She went to the front flower bed and lifted the corner brick in the border. Sure enough, Uncle J still had a spare key in the old hiding spot. She unlocked the front door and led Matt to the phone in the den. He quickly punched in a number, and she could hear the ringing of the phone on the other end of the line. After several rings, she heard a voice pick up, but it had the automated sound of an answering machine.
Matt cursed quietly and dialed again. “Come on, baby. Pick up the phone.”
But baby didn’t, and it went to the answering machine again.
Chucklers (Book 1): Laughter is Contagious Page 27
