by James Sperl
“Jesus Christ Almighty,” Janet managed to say.
Then the lights came on.
As if snapped on by a single switch, a sea of misshapen and oddly arrayed lights illuminated the northeast entrance in a brilliant swath of dim white.
Catherine stared in stunned disbelief. The logic center in her brain had shut down. Rather than running as fast as she could in the opposite direction and propelling her daughters away from this nightmare, she merely stood, fixated on the invasion that was taking place before her eyes. She marveled at the Light Truck—for that, indeed, was clearly its purpose—and the massive array of what she could only assume was scaffolding that had been assembled haphazardly over the whole of the rig. Constructed and mounted along the side of the container, the intricate meshwork extended well above the top and continued another fifteen to twenty feet as it arched out away from the vehicle on either side in a concave manner. Affixed sporadically to this steel web were dozens, maybe hundreds of lights in various shapes, sizes and intensity. It was as if a light store had been raided and every last available lamp had been employed.
Catherine felt a tug on her arm and looked down to find Tamara yanking on her sleeve ferociously, the purest form of fear etched onto her face. Catherine whipped her head around in a frenzy, saw the remains of the group already hotfooting it into the darkness. Abby stopped, pausing only briefly to yell back at her mother.
“Mom, come on! We’ve gotta go!”
Janet read the shock in Catherine’s face. She grabbed her free hand and attempted to turn her. But when she saw Catherine’s gaping eyes bulge even wider, she twisted back around and stared toward the mall.
The back doors to the Light Truck were thrown open, more intense light from inside spilling out into the parking lot. Then, as if challenging the notion that things couldn’t get any worse, a stream of New Humans spilled from the opening and charged directly for the mall. Led by several ATVs similarly equipped with more of the same metal framing and slipshod lighting attachments—albeit scaled down—the New Humans scurried purposefully forward.
Janet grabbed Catherine and spun her unwillingly, dragging her by the hand as she ran from the invading New Humans. Tamara was bawling freely now, clinging to Catherine who slowly returned to the living and began taking steps of her own volition.
Gunshots sounded. Semi-aughts and machinegun bursts rang out from inside the mall. And for the third time that night, group eleven endured the screams of besieged friends.
Janet did all she could to keep from weeping. Now was not the time to be weak. There would be plenty of time for tears later. Still firmly grasping Catherine’s hand and running full tilt, she snuck a final look back at what she had called home for so many weeks. The fire had grown in size, the flames licking up beyond the roofline. Smoke rose in sooty clouds, chokingly thick.
She had immediately regretted turning and taking in the devastating images. They would sear into her brain. The screams, the destruction, the fear would all be permanent residents in her recollection of that place. But had she not glanced one last time she would have missed the most disturbing sight of all. And as she screamed with all the might of a warrior, she prayed that the cluster of New Humans standing adjacent to the truck and staring in her direction were too far away to hear. Too far away to understand what it was she and her fellow evacuees were about to try next.
With an outstretched arm, Janet pointed across the parking lot toward the auto center and shrieked, “Get to the garage!”
Shoving Catherine and Tamara through the auto center entrance, Janet discovered the rest of the group waiting impatiently and huffing profusely.
“What’re we doing here, Janet?” Alvin stammered fearfully. “We gotta get the fuck out of here.”
“I know, I know,” Janet said, not stopping as she proceeded from the entrance toward the garage employee access doors behind the service counter.
“Do you think they’re dead?” Madeline cried. “Oh, Jesus, I think they’re all dead.” Shelby hugged her mother, tears spilling from her own eyes. Josh laid a hand on her shoulder.
“If they’re not, they probably wish they were,” Oliver said, panting hard. “Christ, tell me this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.”
Janet rounded the service desk and pulled a set of keys clipped to a simple chain from around her neck. Ripping the chain free, she strode up to the doors and worked one of the keys into the lock.
Catherine checked on Tamara and Abby, pulling each of her daughters close. She watched Janet with urgent fascination.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think about this sooner,” Janet said as she jiggled the key and snapped the lock open. She pushed the door inward with a hearty thrust. “When there were just a handful of us, we stored it here not knowing what the future would hold. But as more and more people showed up, I honestly never gave it a second thought.” Janet sped through the doors and into the garage.
Nervous eyes darted about inquisitively as the remnants of Bayview converged on the door, forming a panicked conga line and filtering through.
Alvin, taking up the rear behind Derrik, peered through the grimy waiting area glass out into the parking lot. His eyes grew as wide as tea plates at the sight.
A formidable group of New Humans stood in a loosely formed line beside the Light Truck like a twisted, scarier version of the Rockettes. All were glaring ominously in the direction of the auto center.
Alvin mumbled tensely, shuffling through the service door. “Janet, we gotta go right now,” he shouted, his voice echoing slightly in the darkened service bay. “The NHs know we’re here. They’re gathering numbers outside the mall as we speak.”
A flashlight popped on two bays over silencing Alvin. Janet’s unmistakable silhouette clutched the light as she scrambled alongside an enormous, yellowish object, the spot only briefly illuminating fragments in quick, erratic movements. She fast-walked over to a cache of steel barrels and hurriedly yanked a durable, coiled tube from the top of one.
“Everybody get on,” Janet said forcefully as she stormed over to the boxy shape and jammed the hose into a waist high cavity. She ran back over to the barrel and began working the lever arm of a pump in jerky up and down motions.
Catherine clung to her daughters, stumbling around in the shadowy garage along with everyone else. But as her eyes adjusted to the dark it became clear to her what Janet was doing. And what she was doing it to. With a sudden shift the flashlight beam splashed across the exterior of the object and in that brief passing glance left little question as to its identity.
A school bus.
On occasion Catherine had heard Abby use more disparaging remarks such as “the short bus” or “tard car” to refer to the appended length of the specialized vehicle before her, but doubted that Abby gave a lick as to its effect on social status this night.
Janet paused from pumping and crooked her head into the empty bay where everyone stood like a herd of deer. “What the hell are you all waiting for? Get on!”
As if waiting for permission the group simultaneously burst into movement, everyone feeling their way forward onto the bus. Derrik grabbed the sizeable side view mirror and pulled himself up onto the tire. He gaped through the row of dingy windows in the garage bay door.
On the other side and coming on strong was a mass of New Humans. They charged forward, keeping close proximity to the lone ATV that led the way and provided the only source of light.
Derrik hopped down. “We gotta leave, Janet. This minute.” He drew back the cocking knob on his Uzi.
“I’m on it!” Janet hollered as the last of the group piled on the bus. She yanked the fuel line from the gas tank and capped the hole. “Somebody start the engine!” she yelled as she threw the still dripping tube off to the side and raced for the door.
Oliver hopped into the drivers seat and found the keys already in the ignition. He gave them a twist, the bus’s engine turning over effortlessly despite its lengthy dormancy.
/> Janet leapt onto the first step and looked to Derrik who maintained position by the garage door. “Come on, Derrik. Let’s move!”
“Somebody’s got to open the door, Janet,” he said, eerily calm, from atop a shop chair where he peered through the garage window. “Keep the door open. I’ll hop on once the bus is through.” Derrik could read Janet’s grave expression even through the cheerless, oily garage. “Don’t worry,” he offered. “I’m not going anywhere yet.”
Janet knew there was no time to argue. Derrik was right. The garage door needed to be manually hoisted and held until the bus cleared the opening. Janet hopped up alongside Oliver.
“You know how to drive this thing?” she said.
“Believe it or not, I used to bus kids to school in a different life,” he responded, sweat dripping nervously from his brow. “Isn’t that convenient?”
“You’ll do fine.” Janet shined the flashlight into the bus and took a headcount. All accounted for, she faced forward and stared through the dusty windshield.
The New Humans were rapidly approaching. The other ATV had joined the advance allowing the mob to spread out forbiddingly between the two as they ran toward the garage. But behind them was cause for even more concern—the Light Truck was moving.
Janet shined the flashlight in her own face, saying and making the sign for “okay” with her thumb and middle finger. She turned the light on Derrick who gave a thumb’s up, his hand already on the hoisting chain.
“Get ready,” Janet said to Oliver. She aimed the light back at herself and with a final deep breath, pointed at Derrik.
Derrik yanked on the chain, pulling hand over hand as he let his weapon dangle uselessly by his side. The door cleared the height of the bus. Derrik nodded exaggeratedly toward Janet then turned and watched in mounting horror as the New Humans converged within a hundred meters of the garage.
Janet gripped Oliver’s shoulder. “Step on it,” she said.
Oliver depressed the clutch, took the shifter in his hand and directed it toward first gear.
But it wouldn’t engage.
“Let’s go, Oliver,” Janet said in despair.
“I’m trying,” he cried. “It won’t go into gear!” Oliver rammed the shifter repeatedly toward first, but the lever only bounced back unsuccessfully.
“Move the goddamned bus!” Derrik screamed, the muscles in his arms starting to quiver.
Oliver clutched the shifter with both hands and leaned on it with all his might to no avail. He gazed over the dashboard, perspiration running in rivulets down his forehead. The New Humans were close enough that he could distinguish faces.
“Let’s go!” Madeline wailed. “They’re coming!”
“Get this fucking bus going, Oliver! I mean it!” Janet hollered. She placed her hands on top of Oliver’s, both working the shifter unsuccessfully. Janet glanced out the window, her pupils actually dilating from the proximity of the approaching light source.
Derrik looked up at Janet panic-stricken. A fear she’d never seen before in his face was now on full display. “Janet!” he screamed. He loosed his right hand from the chain to reach for his gun. But the door slipped. Derrik abandoned the rifle and reached back up for the chain.
Janet looked around like a lost child on a playground. She staggered back and watched helplessly as Oliver wrestled with the shifter.
“Put the bus in reverse,” Josh said to Oliver loudly, sliding up behind him suddenly.
“What?” Oliver responded breathily. “What the hell is—”
“You need to free up the gear. Align it,” Josh rattled off. “Reverse for a foot then put it in first. Do it!”
Oliver fumbled for the clutch. He depressed it and slid the shifter effortlessly into reverse. Derrik watched unbelievably as the bus rolled away from him.
“What the fuck’re you doing? The other way!” he exclaimed with a vicious nod of his head toward the parking lot.
Oliver stomped on the brakes, everyone jerking with the suddenness. He curled his hand around the shifter knob, depressed the clutch again and pushed forward.
The lever slid into first like a hot knife through butter.
“Holy shit!” Oliver howled fervently.
“Go, go, go!” Janet screamed.
Derrik stared in mounting dread as the New Humans charged within striking distance. Their advancing footsteps sounded above the grating whir of the ATV motors, the Light Truck close enough now that it cast shadows of the ATVs themselves. Derrik, unable to hold on to the garage door any longer, let the chain free and reached for his machine gun. The door raced for the floor. Derrik aimed.
But the bus that pulled in front of him blocked his view.
Derrik looked up in stunned amazement as Janet reached out a hand to him from the open door. “Get in here, you crazy fool!” Derrik gripped her palm as the garage door smashed into the roof of the bus.
Janet turned to Oliver. “Oliver, get us the hell out of here!” Janet quickly levered the bus door shut as Derrik cleared the threshold.
“With pleasure,” he began. Then, “Oh, shit!”
A New Human launched himself onto the hood of the bus, crashing into the windshield. The ATVs sped to opposing positions on either side of the bay door, drenching the garage in off-white light.
Oliver popped the clutch and smashed his foot on the accelerator. Two more New Humans scaled the front of the bus as it surged forward. Screams sounded from the seated few and sparks flew from the roof of the bus as the garage door ground along the metal surface.
More New Humans clamored along the sides of the bus as it accelerated, their dirty hands scraping at the windows and door. There were too many and Oliver had no choice but to run through them, the bus bumping and rocking over their bodies as they fell like dominoes.
Janet looked through the windshield, her face flooding with light. “Oliver?”
“I see it,” Oliver sputtered, his hands dancing over the steering wheel as he twisted and turned the bus through the mob.
The Light Truck streamed toward them. There was no stopping it now, the driver clearly intending a collision at high velocity.
New Humans climbed on to the hood of the bus. They stared inside at group eleven with unsettling calmness. Their faces were dirty, many coated in a muddy film. They smacked the glass with open palms, desperately trying to find a way in.
The bus cleared the bay door, it crashing into the floor and trapping a handful of New Humans inside. Oliver shifted to second flawlessly as the Light Truck zeroed in on the bus, mere seconds from impact.
Oliver glared determinedly at the Light Truck. “Hold on everyone!” he yelled. Then he spun the wheel rapidly in its direction.
“Oliver, what the hell’re you—”
Janet’s speech was cut short as she and Derrik were flung viciously into the folding bus door, two of the bus’s wheels leaving the pavement in the turn.
The Light Truck, not anticipating this maneuver, swerved to one side just enough to allow the vehicles to pass within a couple of feet of each other. The cabin filled with an intense ethereal glow as the Light Truck sped past.
Catherine whirled in her seat in time to see the truck attempt to brake, its wheels locking and skidding on the asphalt. Acrid smoke spewed from the tires, but the momentum was too much. The Light Truck plowed over hordes of New Humans, smashing into one of the ATVs. It continued its trajectory into the garage, the impact so great the back tires left the road.
The remaining New Humans ran after the bus, stopping at the periphery of light given off by the now immobile Light Truck. They stood in a semi-circle staring blankly after the bus as it sped away.
Shelby raised a finger and pointed toward the windshield. “Oh, my God,” she said, her hand reaching for her mouth.
Janet spun back around and took notice—as did everyone else—of the New Humans clinging to the hood and writhing in agonizing pain, their source of light fading into the night with each passing second. Their faces contort
ed unbelievably, their eyes rolling into the backs of their heads. A pair fell, bouncing off the tire well. Three remained, their hands still able to grasp their respective handle holds despite the violence that wracked their bodies. Smoke began to seep from their skin, low, unearthly moans rising out of the agony.
Janet and Derrik exchanged glances. Derrik nodded. Janet turned to Catherine as he readied his weapon. “You may want to cover your daughters’ eyes.”
Catherine looked from Derrik to the New Humans. “Lay down,” she said to Abby across the aisle. “And cover your ears.”
Abby, for perhaps the first time in a long time, didn’t argue. She curled into a ball, jammed her hands to her ears and slammed her eyes shut.
Catherine reclined with Tamara, holding her own hands over the girl’s tender ears. “Close your eyes, baby,” she whispered softly.
And as the bus door cranked open and muzzle flashes filled the cab, Catherine watched the reflection of the mall burn in the passenger windows.
Part II: Revelations
12
Truths & Consequences
It smelled of must. Wet, rotting hay and the lingering scent of manure. A thin odor of paint hung in the air, its normal recoil-inducing effect serving as a freshening alternative to the stale sweetness.
Josh cracked his eyes. He turned his head and looked out the window. Sunlight seeped through the cracks of a barn door in powerful shafts, the bright spears of light cutting through the dusty air. He regarded this briefly when he felt a stirring beside him.
Looking over he discovered Shelby asleep on his shoulder. A thin string of drool oozed from her mouth, dripping onto Josh’s shirt. As if suddenly aware she was being watched, her eyes popped open.
“Huh?” she barked dreamily, sitting up and wiping her mouth.
“It’s okay,” Josh said, attempting to calm her. “You were just sleeping.”
