He pulled the last cigarette from his pack, lit it and took a long drag. The smoke killed him the tiniest bit and then the Enoch compound came in and brought him right back to life. Here he was trapped in a 40-year-old’s body, stuck forever just over the hill. That’s probably why he was so anxious all the time. It could have been worse though. He could have been stuck a day before death like that poor old fossil Archie Fairbanks.
Leo got off at the next station and reported to look out tower number fourteen on the city wall. He spent the morning watching the horizon for crows or “mutants”. That term still felt stupid to him after all these years. But it was a protection for the kids and for those who had forgotten just how bad the plague really was. He slipped back to his apartment as soon as his replacement reported for duty.
As he entered his place he glanced at his watch. There was only an hour before he had to be back on duty. If he made no mistakes that would be plenty of time.
It was a small apartment, basically just two large rooms, a living room and a kitchen. A lone picture hung on the wall, it was of him and a woman holding each other in front of the ocean. He had a mustache back then. He looked better with one, but that wasn’t an option any longer. He had looked at the photo of him and her so many times over the past 18 years that it was practically invisible to him now and it had stopped giving him any hope. He loosened his tie and walked into the living room that had long ago been converted into a makeshift laboratory. There were two crows in separate cages on the table.
He put an apron on over his uniform and took the black widow pill bottles from his pocket. He emptied them into a mortar and pestle and ground them down to powder. Then he added the powder to a saline solution he had prepared the night before. He held the mixture in a vile over a low flame. It began to bubble and turned slightly brown, like caramel. From a refrigerator he took a small bottle of a white milk-like substance, made up of protein strands and various amino acids. He took one part black pill concentrate and two parts protein shake and set it to mix on a centrifuge. He bit his thumb as he watched it spin and glanced over at the crow next to him.
“I hope you’re thirsty,” he said.
The crow cawed. Leo wasn’t sure if that meant yes or a no.
He made a sandwich for himself as he waited. Taking a bite, he grabbed the bottle from the centrifuge and brought it to the crow’s cage. He replaced the hanging water bottle with the black widow and protein mixture. The crow briefly pecked at liquid that dripped from the spout but then turned its attention elsewhere.
Leo looked at his watch. 45 minutes. The crow would have to drink more. Leo squeezed the bottle, squirting the substance out on the floor of the cage. The crow hopped away and shook off its wings. It pecked at the liquid some more and swallowed it with its head cocked back and its beak open.
“That’s it,” Leo said. “You know what’s good for you.”
The phone rang. He only had a minute or two before the compound would start to take effect. The phone rang again. If anyone found out what was going on in his apartment he’d be executed. If he didn’t answer they might send someone over to check on him. He took another bite of his sandwich and walked over to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Leo, it’s Chip,” came the voice of his supervisor. “Larry’s called in sick. We need you at tower 11 now.”
“Oh... well...” He looked at his sandwich, then at the crow. “I’m kind of in the middle of some stuff here.”
“Well, you gotta drop it, we’ve got no one to take the shift.”
The crow started to convulse. It cocked its head back and let out a loud shriek.
“What the hell was that?” Chip asked.
“It’s my TV,” said Leo. He covered the receiver of the phone. “Shut the hell up,” he hissed at the crow.
“Ok, so are you coming?”
The crow began slamming itself into the wall of the cage. The cage inched closer and closer to the edge of the table.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Leo said. He reached over and tried to grab the cage before it fell off the edge, but the phone’s cord was too short. The crow began to caw like crazy. He covered the receiver tighter.
“That sounds like a crow,” Chip said.
“Yeah one of them just broke into my apartment,” Leo said. Still reaching for the cage.
The crow trembled, snapped its head to the side and a white foam came oozing out from its beak. The base of its feathers started to turn white.
“Holy shit. How did that happen?”
“I don’t know,” Leo said, getting his fingertip onto the cage. The crow flung itself against the wall one last time and knocked it off the table. It crashed onto the floor and the door sprung open. The crow hopped out and flew towards an open window.
“Shit,” Leo said as he ran towards it, jumping over the couch and popping the telephone cord from the wall in the process. The bird hopped up onto the windowsill and turned back to look at him with a red beady eye. It’s feathers were completely transformed to a snowy white. It jumped from the ledge, flapped it’s wings and flew off into the city. Leo stood there with the disconnected phone in one hand, the sandwich in the other. He threw the sandwich on the floor. He would mark that experiment as a failure.
That was the last male crow he had. He’d have to go back to Father Morrigan to get another, which was a major drag, because Father Morrigan had been kind of a dick lately. He’d do it after work.
These crows man, they were fickle.
∞
The church steeple towered in the air next to the central station. The brick was grimy from factory smoke and the stained glass windows didn’t shine the way they used to. Diego stood outside for a long moment. He didn’t want to go in there. He let out a long sigh and pushed open the tall wooden doors.
The aisles were illuminated with candle light. All the seats were empty. Diego’s steps echoed off the smooth stone floor. There wasn’t a soul in sight, Father Morrigan must have been in the back room. Diego walked across the nave and opened the small door to the office.
Father Morrigan sat at a desk with his back to Diego. He wore a little maroon cap and a long maroon robe with a stiff collar. As Diego walked around to get his attention he noticed Father Morrigan was playing that video game on the computer again. It looked boring, a bunch of small black boxes moving around the display like a school of fish. And he didn’t seem to be enjoying it, he just stared with dead gray eyes at the screen.
“Hey,” said Diego.
Father Morrigan nodded. Maybe he knew he was there the whole time. “Just let me finish this up,” he said in a smoky voice.
Diego sat down in a wooden chair. The stacks of paper piled up on the desk prevented him from seeing what was going on in the game. He only saw Morrigan’s face glowing with the pale blue light from the computer. He was skinny, with a pointy nose. He looked about 40, so that would make him about 58. His face resembled an owl’s.
There was another door behind the desk that Diego had never noticed before. He wondered what was back there. Close doors fascinated him.
“Damn it,” Father Morrigan said.
“Didn’t win?” Diego asked.
“Can’t get past this one part.”
“Well, you’ve got forever.”
“Very true,” Morrigan said. He took the USB drive from the computer. It was thin and silver, in the shape of a cross. He attached it to the chain around his neck. “Do you have the pills?”
Diego nodded, taking the envelope from his pocket and setting it on the desk in front of him. Hopefully Morrigan wouldn’t count them until after he was gone. Diego owed him fifty. He had only brought ten. Morrigan grabbed the envelope and slid it over to his slide of the desk.
“You take half for yourself again?” he asked. Diego nodded. “And
the cash I owe you for them is in there.” Father Morrigan nodded and set the envelope to the side.
Thankfully he didn’t open it. Diego smiled and stood up to leave.
“Diego, I’m concerned with what you’re doing with the pills.”
“What?”
“The ones you take. Why do you take them?”
“Just saving up,” said Diego with a shrug.
“What for?”
“In case there’s a shortage or something.”
“You know, you’re the only one of my dealers that keeps pills for himself. And I let you do it because, frankly, your the best one I have.”
“Well thanks.”
“I don’t want you taking anymore,” said Morrigan.
It didn’t matter now, Diego didn’t need anymore. He would be out of there by Friday. “Uh well, if you feel that way, I suppose I can just take more cash for them.”
“And I want the ones you have saved up,” Morrigan said flatly.
“What! Why?”
“Because it’s not right for you to be hoarding them.”
“But you’re hoarding them.”
“Your supply isn’t safe. I’m doing this for everyone’s sake and I’m asking you to hand yours in.”
Diego sat there with a knot in his throat. He saw his plan crumbling before his eyes. “Can I bring them in next week?”
“I want them tonight,” Morrigan said.
“I want you to go and get them and bring them back to me.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not Diego?” Morrigan shouted, standing up behind the desk. “What have you done with them?”
“Nothing. I just keep them hidden and I can’t get to the place now.”
Morrigan shook his head and snickered. “Can’t trust nobody.” He took out a pair of scissors from his pocket. They were silver and had extremely long blades that were almost twelve inches. Decorative swirls and stars were carved into the metal. He picked up Diego’s envelope and sliced it open.
Diego looked to the door. Should he make a run for it?
Morrigan looked in the envelope and dropped it onto the desk. “Where are my pills Diego?”
“I had to give you extra cash this month. Some of my customers paid me in cash. It’s all there, I swear.”
“You know I don’t want cash.”
“There was nothing I could do.”
“But you took some for yourself didn’t you? That didn’t stop you from hoarding them like a little rat.”
“I’m sorry,” said Diego. “I’ll get them for you.”
“Diego, you’re irritating me,” said Morrigan, pointing the scissors at him. “You promised me 50 pills and I trusted you.”
He turned and pushed a button on his keyboard. Diego grabbed onto the chair, he didn’t know what the button did. The door behind the desk creaked open. A little man in a green suit and green fedora walked into the room. He looked like he was about eighty years old, but the skin around his eyes was young.
“I want those pills tonight,” said Morrigan. He fiddled with the cross that hung around his neck. Diego had only seen him do that before he hurt somebody. It was not a good sign.
“That’s not possible,” said Diego.
“I’m getting sick of this,” said Morrigan.
“I’ll bring them to you next week, I promise,” Diego said.
“You don’t have to promise anything,” said Morrigan. He motioned to the man in green.
Diego jumped from the chair and sprinted for the door. But the man grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, forcing him back into the chair and holding him there tight. The man was freakishly strong. His hands held onto Diego’s shoulders like vice grips. Diego tried to bite him, but his head was pulled away and held tight against the chair.
“Don’t worry Diego,” said Morrigan sharpening the scissors on a stone. He held them up to the light and admired their sharpness. “I’m only going to take one finger.”
“This is sick!” said Diego. He tried to shake his way loose. All the blood in his body rushed to his face. The man in green’s suit smelled like mothballs.
Father Morrigan smiled as he approached. Diego tried to kick the scissors from his hand. Morrigan pushed his legs down and sat on top of them. He grabbed Diego’s right hand. “I used to let people pick which finger, but the answer was always the pinky, so I don’t even bother asking anymore.”
Morrigan pushed all of Diego’s fingers down until only the pinky remained standing. He brought the scissors to the skin and Diego felt the pressure on the bone.
There was a knock at the door. The man in green covered Diego’s mouth.
Morrigan paused and looked up at him. “Are we expecting anyone?”
He got off of Diego’s lap and went to the door. It cracked open the tiniest bit and Morrigan greeted the person. Diego tried to scream, but he hardly made any noise with his mouth covered.
“What’s going on in there?” the person on the other side of the door asked.
“Nothing,” Morrigan said. “Hey, just let him go. We’ve got to deal with this other stuff.”
The man in green released Diego and pushed him forward onto Morrigan’s desk.
“Just get out of here Diego,” said Morrigan, putting the scissors back in his pocket. “We’ll talk later this week.”
Diego walked past Morrigan, trying not to look at him. On the other side of the door was the police officer he had ‘sold’ his mini-death pills to earlier that morning. Diego thought about saying something, to Father Morrigan or to Officer Leo, but he didn’t know who’s side he was on. He figured it was better if he just kept his head down and got out of there. Five more days. Five more days.
As he left the church he reached into his jacket pocket and felt the envelope he had stolen from Father Morrigan’s desk. He decided it was his parting bonus. He counted it all up - $150 and 10 Enoch pills. Not bad for almost losing a finger. The small handwritten note fell from the envelope. Diego snatched it in the air as it fluttered down towards the wet pavement. He held it up to the street light.
Can you please buy the latest Banshee album with this money and send it to me in a supply crate? Thanks.
8
Diego spent the first couple days in his warehouse hideout finishing his motorcycle, making some food for himself, reading and just thinking about random crap. There were no distractions, no roommates, no fights, no noise, no bullshit. It was an appetizer for the adventure that lay ahead of him. Tuesday morning he took three mini-deaths pills and climbed into bed. He started reading a book as he waited for them to do their magic. Then all of a sudden it hit him, the numbness, like an orchestral conductor tapping his podium.
Diego dropped his book and a few moments later came the slow explosion of pleasure, like potent whiskey syrup, beginning in his core and sizzling throughout his body, tingling then soothing wherever it went. He awoke Friday morning, thirsty as hell. He got up and staggered to the sink. As he stood there he realized with a smile that it was Friday. Today was the day.
He had the plan all set. It turned out the guard schedule for the canal door contained a timing error. That evening, after the last of the crates came in and the canals were closed for the night, there would be fifteen minutes before guards came on duty and the canal door was shut. Diego would use that window to drive his motorcycle out through the door, leaving that dump of a city behind him. The next five years would be perfect. All alone. It was all he needed. The city made him feel so trapped and surrounded. He was sick of putting on a nonstop act, pretending to be happy to see people. It was choking him.
He wasn’t afraid of the mutants though. As long as he only moved around at night they wouldn’t be a problem.
Diego put on the clothes he’d wear for h
is escape, a pair of thick jeans and leather boots. It would be uncomfortable for work, sure, but better for riding the bike. He walked to the station and met Milo as he got off the train.
“Are you planning on spending any time at home this month?” Milo asked.
“It’s possible.”
“You still have to pay the same rent you know.”
“I’ll pay you tomorrow,” Diego said.
As they entered the office, Diego noticed the mood of panic that gripped the place. The crow siren was going off. Henry came barreling out from the back room, carrying two EMP rifles. He threw one to Milo and the other to Diego.
“You two are late again,” he said, “A big shipment is coming in, but it’s bringing a monster flock of crows with it. They’ve taken out half the farms in the country. We’ve got to make sure we get those crates inside these walls before the crows get to them.”
They left the office and crossed the canal yard to the city defenses. Henry led them up a steel ladder to the walkway on top of the wall. About one hundred other canal workers were up there, all armed and looking out over the landscape. Below them to the left was the large circular canal door. It was closed now, the city was sealed off at night to keep out the crows, the mutants and the plague.
Diego scanned the horizon for any sign of the invasion. It was out there, somewhere. He had the feeling that they would come from the forest that sat 100 yards to the northeast. It would make shooting at them difficult but the crows were smart like that.
“You know what a flock of crows is called?” Henry asked him, his large gut pressed against the railing, his eyes weary and paranoid. “A murder. A murder of crows. Sick bastards.”
The Enoch Pill Page 8
