by Mark Tufo
When we were finished breathing like a pack of horned out high-schoolers coupled up under the bleachers, we got into positions with great lines of sight to the roadway. I wasn’t overly thrilled with shooting people before the hostilities started; as of yet, they had done nothing to us. But their intention? Well, that was certainly suspect. You don’t just randomly come up on somebody’s ass, take their exit, then block their retreat with your intimidating vehicle without expecting some sort of preemptive strike, especially now. We didn’t have the luxury to ask them what the hell they were up to, nor was there anyone we could call for help if their intentions were nefarious.
We’d clicked off enough time that the pre-jitters of an upcoming conflict began to wear off and as the adrenaline faded, tiredness began to set in. Travis yawned.
“Something’s wrong,” I said to BT.
“Just lazy, man. They’re taking their time.”
I thought on his words for a second. “No way, man. If they spent the time and resources to set this up, they wouldn’t be so casual about the end game. I think we need to get back.” I was looking in the direction of the fast food restaurant, though I could not see it. I was getting the sinking feeling we’d been duped and had left the rest of our people, hung out to dry.
“I see something,” Tommy said.
A figure began to appear–still far off–but I could only make out one.
“There’s more,” Travis said as we all tried to get a better look. I had my four-power scope up to my eye and was still having a hard time figuring it out, when it came to me. That was when the panic set in.
“Rats,” I hissed, though I meant to shout. “Rats! Thousands of them.”
“What the fuck?” BT asked as he was looking. “Are they attacking that guy?”
“We have to go.” I grabbed my stuff and was heading out. “Not being attacked–he’s leading them like the fucking Pied Piper.”
“Oh…oh no.” BT was pretty alarmed. “I hate rats.”
“That’s two of us, and probably ninety percent of the population.”
“That what’s in the trucks?” Meredith asked, but it was the answer as well.
“Who does that?” BT asked. It was the last question he would be able to get off as we were once again sprinting at full, back the way we had come.
When the first rat ran out into the roadway ahead of us, I didn’t think much of it; figured a small animal by itself would run away as soon as it saw us scary bipeds running its way. But it didn’t. It turned and came right at us. All I could think was maybe it had rabies; then I was thinking with growing conviction that it was even somehow more insidious. The ape at the Demense building had the zombie virus; it was not out of the realm of possibilities this rat did as well. What new horror would this be? How could people survive? Here was an animal that could get just about anywhere, one that had proven itself through time to be extremely clever, bold and adaptive. I raised my rifle up, but the odds of hitting the damned thing while we were both running was as likely as a lawyer turning down a frivolous lawsuit, a politician turning down a donation, and if I want to be more relevant, Trip turning down a spliff.
Rats began to pour out of the woods to our right–no one thought twice when I veered left. We heard gunfire up ahead. The trap had been sprung and we had arrogantly and blithely walked right into it–hell, I think we even pulled the lever to spring it while we whistled a catchy tune. I knew rats were fast, at least in bursts, (a Trivial Pursuit question I got wrong). If we could stay ahead of them, theoretically they couldn’t catch us. But we weren’t really ahead of them if the truck at Wendy’s had already let go of its bubonic plague-carrying cargo, and odds were stacked that they had. We were fucked, and there’s no way our view screen could have seen this.
“Get in the cars, get out of there,” I had told Justin before we left. The plan was if they got into trouble, to get the fuck out and come pick us up, but we had already deviated from the path they were supposed to meet us on. We’d pass like ships in the night. Luckily, I had prepared for Plan C. Plan B, you ask? Well, that was to just use more ammo. Unfortunately, in this case, it wouldn’t do any good.
“Tommy, the backpack.” I think it was Trip that had come back with a flare gun from a foraging mission. I didn’t see the good in it back then; I mean, unless we ended up looking for rescue at sea. As it was, we already had enough shitty things looking for us, didn’t need to announce our position by shooting a big, red neon “Open!” sign into the sky. Tommy got in front of me as we ran, fumbling with the thing, just about put a burning canister into his thigh–pretty sure he would have been pissed off about that. The gunfire had tapered off; had to think they were retreating to the cars. I fired the flare, never even wondering if they’d be able to see it from where they were. There was the screeching of tires and then more gunfire. There was a squeal of brakes and then the gut-wrenching sound of metal impacting something unyielding. BT looked over at me and I don’t know how we found another gear, but we were racing to the wire.
The flare went unnoticed as a car sped by one street over. Attempting to cut them off was fruitless; they were already past our location and the rats streaming into yards to our side would prevent that anyway. We got to the parking lot just as a dazed and bleeding Gary was being shoved into a car that Deneaux was driving. She looked over at us as soon as the door slammed shut and screamed out of the parking lot. Of all the ones getting screwed, we were first up. There were rats everywhere; I can’t blame her for not picking us up, well, I could, but we both knew she wouldn’t have made it. I tapped BT’s shoulder; off to the side was a two-story home that had been converted into apartments–at least that’s what I figured judging by the metal fire escape.
BT didn’t even need to jump as he reached up and pulled the ladder down. We about tossed Meredith up there, and Travis was right behind her. BT went next as Tommy and I had to shoot to keep the nasty little fucks from biting us. Mounds of ground were being blown up, taking scores of rats with each strike, but still they came, their beady black eyes locked on; their long, sharp teeth intent on sinking into our flesh. One had jumped onto my leg and was climbing up fast. I grabbed him around the body and squeezed until his lungs burst forth from his mouth–literally. It was just as gross as it sounds. I flung it away and spun to grip the ladder. Tommy cried out as he was bitten on his calf; he reached down and smashed two of them together with enough force to create one disgustingly large and bloody multi-legged rat.
BT was hoisting the ladder that Tommy and I were still on. Travis was smashing away with the butt of his rifle at the animals that had hitched a ride. Took a moment to catch my breath and look out at the sea of swirling vermin. A bunch were looking up at us, figuring how to solve this puzzle. A fair amount already had.
“Inside!” Being out on this metal platform made us perfect targets for any shitstorm.
“Fucking Deneaux saw us, man! She fucking left us here on purpose!” BT was yelling as he was moving furniture to the block the doorway. This must have been a rough part of New Hampshire, if such a thing existed, because the door was metal, not metal all the way through, but enough to stop anything from chewing its way in.
“It was fifty-fifty if she could have got to us. Maybe a little less–she definitely weighed the odds and, without being a clear favorite, we were always going to be left behind.” I said.
“We wouldn’t have fit.” Tommy was checking the window.
“Still, man. I would have ridden on the fucking roof! Now we have to deal with…with rats, man!” BT was losing his mind.
I had a healthy fear of the animal, that was for sure, but it was obvious to see that this was one of the big man’s phobias and he was not coping well. And it didn’t get any better as we heard the pitter patter of thousands of feet coming down the wooden hallway. Meredith looked at me.
“Go find some valium in the bathroom,” I told her.
“What makes you think they have valium?”
“You’
re going to find some.” I was nodding my head. “Travis go with her, do a quick check of this place.” It wasn’t large, by any stretch of the imagination. Appeared to be one bedroom in the back, a bathroom, and then the kitchen / living room combo. Although it looked much more spacious now that we had the entertainment center, couch, and kitchen table stacked up against the door.
“They actually had some!” She came out a moment later, already more relieved.
“Really?” I asked.
She looked at me like the idiot who doesn’t get his own joke. “You just told me to pretend I found some valium, and now you’re thinking I really did?”
“Wishful thinking. Go be that convincing to him.”
BT was next to Tommy, though he was not looking out the window. He had his head pressed against the wall.
“Uncle Mike wanted me to give these to you.” Meredith opened her hand to reveal two small, reddish pills.
“What are they?” he asked never looking directly at them.
“Valium.”
She’d barely said the word when he grabbed them and dry swallowed.
I motioned for her to come over. “Umm, that was good–don’t mistake me, but what did you actually just give him?” I’d hoped she’d found some baby aspirin or something useful, but that wasn’t what the pills looked like. She handed me the bottle. “Bisacodyl? Oh no.”
“Did I just poison him?” Meredith looked scared.
“Nope. Probably the rest of us though. These are laxatives.”
“Nothing here worth mentioning,” Travis said coming out of the bedroom.
“Dad! Come in dad–where are you? Are you alright?” It was Justin. I could hear his muffled voice coming through the backpack. Tommy tossed me the entire bag, I nearly toppled over when I caught the much heavier than anticipated bag right in the chest. The radio was once again asking where I was when I finally got to it.
“We’re fine,” I began before looking over to a concerned Tommy. “Fine-ish. How are you guys doing?”
“We’re okay. You weren’t at the rendezvous point but we saw a thousand reasons as to why–ran over a bunch of ‘em. Would have kept doing it but there were also trucks and people with guns. We’re at….”
I cut him off. “Don’t say it over the radio; it’s not secure.”
“How are we going to find each other?”
“We’re not currently in any shape for travel. Give us a few minutes to figure something out.”
“Few minutes?” BT asked. “You’re going to get us out of here in a few minutes?”
“Valium should just be taking hold about now.” I hoped the suggestion would quell the rising panic within him.
“I am feeling a little woozy,” he confessed just as his stomach began to gurgle. “Nerves.” He grabbed at his waist.
“Keep safe Justin. I’ll contact you when we can.” This was killing me. We were scattered to the winds at the moment and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
“Uncle,” Meredith said. She was by the door. “You need to hear this.”
I thought I was going to have to cup my ear and listen intently, blocking out all distractions but I was only halfway across the room when I heard the crunching. “Chewing. I’ll be damned. They’re chewing through–not the door, though.”
“The walls,” she answered.
“I didn’t think of that.” I thought about doing the math, but I’d never ran across a word problem that involved the speed at which a hundred rats can chew through two sheets of drywall, framing, and insulation while three humans are swatting and shooting at them. “Any ideas?”
“We could set the place on fire,” she replied, and I don’t think she was kidding. You didn’t need to have what BT suffered from, true musophobia, to not like the fact that you were about to die by a thousand tiny bites.
“This house is old enough it should have lathe and plaster walls,” Tommy said.
“That’ll slow them down, though I doubt it will stop them,” I said thinking about the thin board material and the plaster slathered between them to keep homes insulated. It was a whole might better than the pink stuff, for this application at least. But it was still only a waiting game; the fuckers can chew through brick if they have enough time. Gotta be some asbestos in the walls, right?” I asked.
“I don’t think they’re going to die from mesothelioma before they get in here, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Meredith said.
“Next time, try not to be so smart.”
“The world doesn’t need two Talbots like you,” she said.
Even in as dire a situation as we were, Travis could not help letting a snort out. “Sorry.” He put his hand up when he saw me looking at him.
I was trying to figure out our next move when I noticed that BT was no longer in the room.
“Bathroom,” Tommy said.
“Oh lord! What is happening to me?!” BT cried out. Now, I won’t swear it on a stack of Bibles, but I think the house shook from the force of his, umm, bathroom volley, if you will. “Is that my liver?” he asked alarmed. “Talbot!” he yelled.
I looked at Meredith. “He’s talking about you, Miss Talbot.”
“Might not have to worry about the rats now,” she shrugged.
We all were inching farther from the bathroom when we heard a high-pitched whistle.
“Yoohoo!” someone shouted from down below. “I fucking said Yoohoo! It’s customary to reply!” the voice yelled. “Listen, we know you’re in there. The rats have been specifically trained, see? They’re like good old hunting dogs–they track down and trap prey so that the hunters can blow your heads off!”
“What do you want?” Tommy asked from the corner of the window.
I wasn’t sure if that was the smartest thing, but it was true, they did know we were there.
“What do I want? Why, the world.” It was Knox.
“Shit.”
“But for now, just you and those with you, specifically. You see I have a few scores to settle; lost a lot of good people to your group. Twenty-seven to be exact.”
“Wasn’t me,” Tommy told him.
Technically that was true, though I didn’t think Knox would see it that way or even care.
“Guilty by association, son. The North Korean government was a little strange in how they ruled but I do agree with the fact that the sins of the father are passed down to the next generation. Gauging by your age, I’d say that includes you.”
“Can you see him?” I asked. He shook his head.
“Let’s get a few things squared up. The rats are highly trained and will kill you if I tell them to. Or I can just set the building on fire. Either way is a pretty gruesome death, don’t you agree?”
“So, we should just come out, then?” Tommy asked.
“That would be the smartest choice,” he said.
“And you won’t hurt us?”
“Oh, I never said that, son,” he laughed. “The men are going to have to go. I think the values your leadership has instilled into you will prevent you from ever being good soldiers in my army. But the women…they’re always valuable. We can use them to repopulate our forces or maybe just as entertainment.”
“We have children as well,” Tommy said.
“Why don’t you just give him our social security numbers and password phrases,” I told Tommy.
“I don’t want them, either,” he replied. “I’ll tell you what. If we can avoid more bloodshed, I’ll let anyone under the age of fifteen go about their merry way.”
“So, you’re going to kill the men, take our women, and cast the children loose into this murderous world, alone. That about it?” I asked. “Go fuck yourself!” I stepped up to the window.
“Ah, Michael Talbot. I was wondering when you were going to show yourself.” Knox stepped from behind a cinderblock privacy fence. “I know you’re thinking about raising that rifle up and taking a shot. Just know that I have at least two snipers trained on you and whatever armor
you used to stop my bullet the last time will not be effective against the caliber and ammunition they are armed with. It will rip your body to shreds. You do what I ask, and I promise that as much as I would rather prolong and drag out your death, I will be merciful and put a round into your skull, personally.”
“Pull me out of the window,” I said to Tommy. He’d no sooner wrenched me from my spot when a bullet hole appeared in the floor, halfway across the room.
“Oh man!” Knox shouted. “You would have been a wonderful addition to my army. It’s a damn fine shame I’m going to have to kill you.” There was another whistle and the rats began their incessant chewing.
BT had finally emerged from the bathroom a much paler version of himself. “I feel better now. Relaxed even.”
“That always happens when you drop the kids off at the pool,” I told him as I got up off the floor. “I hate to say it this way, but we’re trapped like rats. Anybody got anything they think might work? Lay it out.”
“Meredith was right, we need fire,” Travis said. “I think we need to start our own fire. Those rats might be trained but they’re not going to stick around for one. It might create enough confusion to escape.”
“Or fry,” Meredith said.
“Got a lighter in the pack?” I asked Tommy.
He shook his head. “Better,” he said, reaching over to grab it. He came out with a couple of flares.
“The rat wall?” I asked. Seemed the best place to push them away from. I took one from his proffered hand, popped the cap off and struck the flint. Think I shoved a few dozen Our Fathers and Hail Mary’s into a quick prayer session as I held the flare up to a wall that took a surprisingly long time to ignite. Once it did, though, it was game on. Now if we didn’t die from smoke inhalation, we’d been in decent shape.
