Silence the Living (Mute Book 2)

by Brian Bandell

  “You’re right. I’ve read the reports. Does it carry the infectious alien bacteria?”

  “As best they can tell, no sir.”

  “Then there’s no danger of it spreading the infection and creating another Indian River Lagoon. There’s your answer. That’s one for the FBI, with help from local cops.”

  Colon squeezed the phone hard enough to crush an orange. He spun around and faced the bay. A man was water skiing. The man fell off and treaded water. If the mutant swam there, he could get sucked below and shredded in an instant. Colon watched the boat circle around for him as the man waved, unaware of the mortal danger.

  “I’ve battled the worst of the mutants. This one is far more deadly,” Colon said. “We can’t leave the people of Florida unprotected while this thing hunts them and their children. I have a team of divers who can breech the underwater caves and drive it out.”

  “We need all the well-trained men we can get in New Mexico. That state has underwater caverns too.” Stronge said. “Seriously, you’re wasting my time. How’d you earn your rank if you don’t know how to follow orders?”

  “If you want TERU to leave Florida, we’ll do it,” Colon said. “But consider this. Someone left symbols in infrared for only this mutant to see. It’s following them. We don’t know what it’s after, but you can bet it’s not good.”

  Silence waited on the other line. He checked his phone and made sure the secretary hadn’t hung up. This was, after all, a man who went on hour-long soliloquies on Capitol Hill.

  “You know something, Colon. You’re pestering the shit outta me, but you’ve got some real gumption. I raised hell for my commanding officers too so you’re in good company. You can leave five men – five divers – in Florida. But if we find contaminated deep water in New Mexico, they’re on the next flight out west.”

  Colon thanked the secretary and signed off before the man could change his mind. He hurried to the barracks and met with Lieutenant Louis Pierre, who he appointed leader of the five-man dive team that would remain in Florida and hunt the mutant.

  “This TERU team you assembled is amazing. I wanted to be in the desert with them,” Pierre said in a deep, disappointed tone. “We trained for this together.”

  As Colon filled him in on the new mission in Florida, the SEAL got a steely look in his eyes.

  “When I found the remains of the girl who’d been sucked down the sinkhole from her bedroom, I thought about my wife, about my baby girl.” Pierre met Colon’s gaze. “They live in Florida too. I’ll dive into every hole in this state until I kill that thing.”

  After Colon briefed the Florida team, the boarding call came. Hundreds of men stared at him expectantly as they lined up on the windy tarmac. He tried keeping a stoic face, one without fear, without the despair of watching the men he lived and drilled with slaughtered before him.

  “In the great history of this nation, we’ve fought battles against foreign regimes and extreme ideologies that sought to destroy us. This time, we face a threat to not just our nation, but to the existence of the Earth itself,” Colon said. “This is not a human foe. You will not find an ounce of compassion or respect for any form of life. Shown them none, in turn. And remember what they did at Patrick. Move out.”

  The soldiers saluted him proudly as they passed. After the last man left the barracks, he pulled out his phone one last time. He dialed home.

  “Honey? Are you coming home tonight?” his wife Rosa pleaded. He hadn’t slept beside her since they found the first bodies along the lake.

  He swallowed hard. Colon wished he could see her face. Even pained by the days apart from him, it was so beautiful. When he saw it, he forgot all the people and monsters who wanted those who wore his uniform dead. “I won’t be home for a while. I can’t say when.”

  She gasped. “Where are they sending you?”

  “You know I can’t disclose that.” He hated those answers. They could have him parachuting into the middle of the Pacific for all she knew. All things considered, the current mission was worse.

  “Dad, is that you?” Ernesto said as he snatched up the other phone.

  “Yes son, it’s me. Did you enroll in a new school yet?”

  “Mom got me in school on the computer. Hey, you go get those monsters, okay? Just like Ben 10.”

  “Yeah, I’ll get the monsters just like him.” He smiled for the first time in days as he remembered watching cartoons with his little boy. He wondered whether he’d see him again. If he didn’t return, would Ernesto remember much of his father? Would he understand why his father sacrificed caring for his family to defend his country?

  “I love both of you. That’s all I can say,” Colon said. “I can’t say what’s about to happen, but I’ll be in the middle of it. I wish I could be there with you and keep you safe, but you’re going to have to look out for each other on this one. Can you handle it?”

  “Yes sir!” Ernesto replied.

  “Jesus, are you serious?” Rosa asked. “What if a sinkhole opens up under our feet? How do we protect ourselves from that?”

  He thought about feeding her the official lie about that being a natural event, but the telling photos had spread too far on social media. Fleeing the state wasn’t a viable option because the Department of Defense had warned that a mass exodus of military families could spur an evacuation stampede in this population-packed peninsula.

  “I want you to remember the nights we were together, when we all laid in the same bed, me and your mother hugging you between us,” Colon said. “Remember that feeling. Hold onto that. I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

  27

  Moni had never felt such nervous excitement before a date. When she met with her friends for a night in Orlando, she had strutted out ready for dancing, laughing and letting her inhibitions go. The adrenaline that energized Moni as she drove to the race track casino with Aaron came from a different place, one that kept her hands trembling. She’d love an afternoon just hanging out with the stunning young man beside her, not putting lives in danger by her presence.

  Since getting infected she’d avoided crowded areas. As much as she sharing in the euphoria of a crowd, the more people around her the more she could rapidly infect. One careless contact transferring her saliva, mucus, blood or other internal fluid could spark it. She didn’t think sweat could carry the infection, but she wore a jacket in case, though she left it unzipped. She shuddered at the thought of a throng of people with purple eyes, all of them seething at her like the coyote in the cave. Too many to fight off, they’d rip her limbs out of their sockets and twist her head off.

  “You look tense.” Aaron shifted into the exit lane of Interstate 10 on the New Mexico side of the border. “After all you’ve been through, shitty roadside cafes, sleeping in the dirt, I thought a day at the races would be no biggie.”

  She adjusted her itchy black wig and lowered her black glasses enough so she could give him the eye. “If a person makes contact with me, are you ready to kill them?” She detected the hesitation in his thoughts. “There must be a way we can get cash without going near people.”

  “I start work on Monday so we only have today to get this done. It might even be fun. My grandpa used to take me to the dog track. That place was kinda shady, but who doesn’t like horses, right?”

  Moni remembered when Mariella rode horses on the ranch back in Florida. At the time, she thought they were bonding like mother and daughter. Instead, it allowed the infected girl to add horses to her mutant army.

  “I love horses. Just keep me the hell away from them.”

  Shaking his head, Aaron pulled up to the race track casino. Even with a recent coat of red and yellow paint and a few new additions, the building appeared half a century old. A large sun hung over the entrance. The newer part of the building housed the casino, while the older side abutted the horse track. Judging by the cars outside, the place wasn’t packed but there were hundreds of people. She didn’t see any police cars, or suspicious black
SUVs, just the standard casino security looking for cheaters. They wouldn’t be obvious. She just hoped no one could see through her disguise and recognize her as the most wanted woman on the planet. Casinos weren’t short on cameras.

  At an amusement park with a roller coaster and kiddie rides across the street, a young girl with straight dark hair walked to the entrance gate with her mother. Moni swore that if the girl turned and showed her face, it would be Mariella. Her body leaned, drawn magnetically across the street and away from Aaron to check it out. The girl wouldn’t turn around.

  Moni swallowed the sore knot in her throat and forced her gaze towards the casino. She’d never see that sweet face again, and she best avoid children in her current state.

  “Looks like it’s your lucky day, madam.” Aaron opened the door for her.

  “That would be a first.”

  With a grin, Moni reached for his hand as she slipped out of the car. Aaron eagerly offered his in return. Moni withdrew it and got out unassisted. She couldn’t take unnecessary risks, yet Aaron couldn’t hide the hurt on his face. Moni caressed her hand across his lower back so she could feel his surfer muscles underneath his shirt.

  Moni strode past him, leaving Aaron frozen in his shoes for a moment. She waved him on. Wearing loose jeans that didn’t do his body justice and a skating logo polo shirt, Aaron looked anything but elegant. That’s just how she liked him.

  Entering the casino together, they were serenaded by country music and met by row after row of slot machines with sparkling nameplates and whirling cartoonish symbols on their screens. Beyond the loud ringing of the machines, Moni heard the slot players laughing and cursing. Closing her eyes, she tapped into their thoughts to be sure no one recognized her. Some mumbled prayers as they pulled the lever. Others argued with themselves over whether they should cut their losses or stick it out until they leave a winner.

  Whoa, what’s that piece of ass doing with that douche? one guy thought. And who’s she fooling with that wig?

  Moni opened her eyes and saw a large hombre with a scruffy beard and a horned belt buckle staring at her. She pulled Aaron around the corner towards the bar.

  “Need a drink already?” Aaron asked. “I don’t think they serve your favorite. Their rocket fuel in a glass is only a figure of speech.”

  “Very funny.” She nudged him in the ribs. “There’s no sense lingering near the slots. I can’t game them in our favor. Isn’t there a poker table around here? I could tell you when the other players are bluffing.”

  “They don’t have poker here. And well…” Aaron stopped speaking out loud when he realized how the people around him would perceive what he was about to say. Horse racing is the surest bet. You can’t guarantee I’ll draw a good hand, but you can fix a race in favor of the horse with the lowest odds. I saw how you made the coyote run at that car.

  Moni shuddered under a pang of guilt. She had sent that coyote to its death for her benefit. Would she do the same to these horses and their riders? No. She could accomplish this without hurting them, only confusing them. Aaron believed it and so did she.

  “I’ve always rooted on the underdog,” Moni told him. “Let’s spring some upsets.”

  Aaron grabbed a racing program and circled the horses with the most astronomical odds. Some of them were rookies. Others had never finished in the top half of a race.

  “If we pick the horses with the lowest odds in every race and win, casino security won’t let us leave the building without an investigation and, I guarantee, a criminal background check. No casino will let you clean them out.”

  “Point taken,” Aaron said. “Let’s mix it up.”

  He selected a few horses with decent odds as well. Moni figured she’d focus on confounding the lead horses. That would be harder than she thought. Each race had a dozen steeds, each with jockeys determined to keep them on course.

  When they turned in the card placing their bet with $250 on two long shots and $100 on two fringe contenders, the old man behind the counter chuckled. Thanks for the donation, kids, he thought.

  “You folks don’t look familiar,” said the balding man in his 60s. His heavy mustache curled around his reddish cheeks. His name tag read Gary. “You tourists?”

  “We just moved in. Thought we’d check it out,” Aaron replied. “What other fun is there in the desert besides dancing with rattlesnakes, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s just what we stupid desert folk do.” A wrinkle of frustration pulled at the corner of his eyes. “What about your girl here? Doesn’t say much.”

  Moni glanced away, pretending she didn’t want to slap the hair off his upper lip.

  “She’s just shy.”

  “She doesn’t dress like she’s shy.” Gary blatantly stared at her exposed midriff. She knew dressing this way would attract too much attention. Moni zipped up her jacket.

  “Listen asshole!”

  “Calm the fuck down. We can’t afford to make a scene if we’re about to pull this off.”

  “Listen what?” the man asked with the temperament of a bear riled from its hibernation.

  “Listen…That would be my fault. I bought her that outfit. She’s too polite to tell me I have no taste.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  Moni grabbed Aaron’s arm and led him away. They settled into the grandstands, metal bleachers that thankfully had a steel roof shielding them from the oppressive sun roasting the track. Moni’s nose tingled. As she thought of the iron imbedded in the metal all around her, her stomach groaned. It was like walking into a house made of freshly baked chocolate cake.

  A drop of saliva escaped her lips. It landed on the bleachers, sizzled and created a puff of white smoke. More than a few eyes shifted in her direction.

  Aaron swatted the smoke away, careful not to inhale.

  Moni studied the track. At just over a mile long, the dirt track circled a man-made lake and had very little greenery around. The horses started near the right side of the grandstand. Moni scooted closer so she could forge a mental link with them at the outset. She observed as the riders brought them out. She noted that Number 11, Tumbleweed Pete, was their underdog pick, so she keyed into the thoughts of the favorites, Numbers 4, 5 and 6. The horses were anxious, aware of the frantic sprint that awaited them, although they didn’t grasp its purpose. Horses didn’t have a language, but they possessed acute feelings. In some of them, she sensed fear, memories of races when horses in front of them collapsed with broken legs. One horse winced at the pain of getting whipped when it didn’t run fast enough after its last race.

  Once Moni recognized how the horses expressed those basic emotions, she mastered them. At the outset of the race, she took turns making the three favorites scared, warning them the track was slick with mud and they might tumble. They hesitated and slowed to a gallop, despite the protests of their jockeys. Tumbleweed Pete still hung in the middle of the pack. Connecting with the minds of Numbers 2 and 7, Moni convinced them that each stride sent a jolt of pain up their hooves into their knees. They could blow at any moment. The horses eased up, not even acknowledging their jockeys strenuously urging them on. Tumbleweed Pete won basically by default.

  “Whoa! We nailed it!” Aaron exclaimed.

  Moni held her finger to her lips as most spectators tore up their tickets in disgust. “Don’t shove it in their faces. We don’t want them looking at me too closely.”

  Sorry. It’s just, wow. That 20-to-1 shot paid $5,000.

  Moni let her hand linger on his thigh. “We’re just getting started.”

  The next race they had $100 on a 6-to-1 horse, with two strong favorites carrying more conservative odds. Not only did she confound the favored duo, she tapped into the mind of her underdog, feeling the throbbing pain of its muscles as it pumped harder than it ever had. Such excitement gripped the horse as its competitors fell off and it saw nothing besides open dirt between it and the finish line. One of the favorites recovered and charged from behind, quickly closing the distance. M
oni made the animal think of the terror from a thunder crack. The horse veered off course for a few seconds, enough to preserve a victory for her underdog.

  Aaron went to slap hands with Moni. She gave him a fist bump and a wide smile instead. That last one gave her an appetite.

  “I don’t think the management would take too kindly to me taking a bite out of these bleachers. Can you get me some old fashioned food?”

  “How about a nice burger? Lots of iron in red meat.”

  “I could wolf down a dozen of them right now. You wouldn’t find that un-lady like, would you?”

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I always thought the chicks in the extreme eating contests were sexy.” She giggled. “But I’m not the one judging you today.”

  Many old-timers on the bleachers snapped their stares away from Moni the moment she made eye contact. There weren’t many new faces here, especially ones that won big with the most risky and downright illogical bets. Only one of them locked eyes with Moni, a gray-haired woman who lamented to herself that she’d been coming here for 30 years and she’d never hit a long shot like that, not to mention two in a row.

  After scarfing down her hamburger, Moni told Aaron she’d sit out the next race. He didn’t want to part with the $100 they’d bet on a horse with 7-to-1 odds, even after winning $5,600 so far.

  “It’s near impossible to pick three winners in a row. Consider this the price of shedding their suspicion.”

  Moni sat on her hands and watched her horse finish fifth. She ripped up her ticket, same as the cursing old lady near her. Needing more energy for the final race, Moni pointed to her empty wrapper and then to the food stand. Aaron made another burger run. She pocketed the old wrapper for burning later, since it had her saliva on it. He returned just as the horses were lined up in their stalls. Moni eagerly unwrapped her burger and took a few quick bites, which temporarily broke her concentration from the horses. Before she could recover, the revolver fired and they were off. Their payday, the 30-to-1 shot Number 10 Ezra’s Fire, sputtered in last, six lengths behind the leader as they exited the first turn. The top horse, Golden Arrow, a 5-to-2 shot, was closing in on a third win in a row. This steed possessed something the other horses didn’t – steely resolve.