by Brett Abell
Middletown Apocalypse
Contributors:
Brent Abell
Shawn Chesser
Mike Evans
Joe McKinney
John O’Brien
Armand Rosamilia
Eric A. Shelman
Heath Stallcup
Mark Tufo
Jack Wallen
Jay Wilburn
Copyright
Middletown Apocalypse
Copyright © 2015
By
Brent Abell
Shawn Chesser
Mike Evans
Joe McKinney
John O'Brien
Armand Rosamilia
Eric A. Shellman
Heath Stallcup
Mark Tufo
Jack Wallen
Jay Wilburn
Curated by
Jack Wallen
Edited by
Sara Jones
This book is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise noted, names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously (unless otherwise noted). Any resemblance to actual locales, events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without express permission from the author. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Foreword
The idea for Middletown Apocalypse came to me one night while contemplating the rich landscape of our beloved genre. Every author I am honored to be friends with has a very different take on the apocalypse. Some swear by the military, while others focus their microscopic lens on the human condition (or, in some cases, the lack thereof). It was that reflection that led me to wonder...
What would happen if I pulled together some of the best in the biz, set down some parameters for a story, and said “Go!”? What stories would they tell? What characters and situations would they dream up?
That sent me reaching out to the authors you'll find between the covers of Middletown Apocalypse. With the rules in place, I let them all do their thing. In the end, their thing was a thing of beauty.
I couldn't be more proud of this collection of stories. As a whole, they tell a frightening tale of chaos and entropy. Individually, they take that singular premise and turn it into something completely, unabashedly, original.
I hope you enjoy Middletown Apocalypse as much as I did putting it together. Don't forget, if you like an author (or authors) within this collection, check out their other works...trust me, you won't regret it.
Jack Wallen
It Turned Into a Middletown Blitz
Brent Abell
1
Charlie Noble heard something bang against the lab door and the footfalls of someone running down the tile floor hallway. Sighing, he looked up from the microscope and eyed the door. From there, his gaze slowly drifted to the clock above it; it seemed as though the hands on the loudly ticking old clock had stopped. The hands on the loudly ticking clock seemed to have stopped.
“Oh, my God,” Charlie muttered and tried to ignore the non-passage of time.
It never failed; Dr. Conrad Hart always dropped off some slides for the Advanced Bio class he was a TA for at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon. Never mind the fact he was still a student and had important college pursuits: beer, girls, parties, and more beer. No, he ended up doing the write-up for Dr. Hart to use for the class, or for when Dr. Hart failed to show up and he had to teach the class.
Charlie buried his face back in the microscope to look at some mold spores when he thought about the door again. Slowly, he raised his head and shuffled to the door. Outside in the hall, he heard the usual Friday whistling of the janitor, Fred Owens, like clockwork f, once three o’clock hit, he’d be finishing up his cleaning duties so he could go and spend his paycheck at The Round About (one of many bar choices Lou’s Bar on the edge near campus). When he opened the door, his foot struck something and he heard something that sounded like glass breaking. Fred looked up, sighed, and nodded at him before he went back to his mopping.
“Fred, did you see anybody out here?”
“I think the FedEx guy came by a by here a few minute ago. I heard him run through and the truck pull out. I think he might’ve been in a hurry,” Fred acknowledged and looked back down.
Charlie checked the floor to see what he accidently kicked and saw the bright orange box against the wall beside the door. His eyes went directly to the biohazard symbols emblazoned all around the package, and for a moment, his stomach sank thinking about the noise it made when his foot struck it. Bending over to pick it up, he caught a whiff of a sickening sweet smell that made his stomach churn. Scooping up the box, he read the address label.
“Dr. Cornelius Hart? Who’s that?” he asked to nobody in particular. Fred looked up from his mopping duties and shook his head at him again.
Charlie read the address to make sure it was correct and noticed the bottom corner of the label had curled up. Carefully, he pulled it off the top label, trying not to damage the address beneath.
“The CDC?” Charlie read.
The printed label originally on the package was addressed to the CDC in Atlanta. Curious, Charlie opened the door and went back into the lab. Carefully, he set the box down on Dr. Hart’s desk and went back about his business of straightening up the lab before he headed out for the weekend.
“And don’t forget to come and see me and the rest of the 106.1 Campus Crew at the big All Hollow’s Eve Greek Bash in the commons tonight. That’s right, come and hear me, Rex Ross, as I DJ the party loud enough to raise the dead! Howl, baby, howl!” the voice of Rex Ross called out over the radio.
Charlie grabbed some flasks and put them up in the drawer next to the radio. Excitement and anticipation raced through him. As part of the Campus Crew, he knew how big the party was going to be, and he hoped he could end his drought with the ladies on campus. The problem, he’d found out, was on a small campus like Middletown University, once a date went wrong, it didn’t take long for word to spread around the female population like a wild fire. Once the story of his failure reached all the sororities and even the freshman dorms, his dating prospects had totally dried up.
Things looked up when his childhood friend Rex Ross transferred back to Middletown University. Until the day he met the cool and suave Rex Ross in an advanced chemistry class. Since then Once he started hanging out with Rex he noticed the females on campus didn’t avoid him anymore, but they still didn’t throw themselves at him either. He hated the metal music Rex played on the radio, but he joined the Campus Crew anyway, hoping to get some tail again. Tonight was the big Halloween bash they planned, and he prayed his luck was about to change.
Ring, ring, ring.
Charlie woke from his daydream when the phone on Dr. Hart’s desk called out with its shrill ringing.
“Middletown University Biology Department, Dr. Hart’s office. How can I help you?” Charlie asked the old antique corded phone.
“Ah, Charlie! Did a package arrive for me today?” the chipper voice on the other side asked.
“Yeah, a box just got dropped off about five minutes ago, Dr. Hart, but it was for a Cornelius Hart. What is it?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just some research I’m doing for a friend in Atlanta. Oh … and Cornelius is my father’s name. I hated being named after him and went with Conrad once I was in college. I thought it sounded better.”
Relief filled Charlie and he relaxed about the bright biohazard-labeled package sitting on the desk before him.
“Good, I was
really kinda freaked out about it,” Charlie chuckled.
“Leave it on my desk and for God’s sake, don’t touch it!” Dr. Hart said.
“Sure, no problem. I’m about to head out for the bash in the commons anyway. I’ll see you when I stop by Monday to prep the notes for Tuesday’s Freshman Bio class.”
“Good, I’ll leave the outline and my notes on the desk when I stop in tonight,” Dr. Hart replied.
“You’re coming in on a Friday night?”
“Work of this nature does not wait on the schedules of man,” Dr. Hart stated and laughed.
“Cool, I’m heading out. Later, Doc,” Charlie said in his best Bugs Bunny impression. It wasn’t a very good one, but it brought a small laugh from Dr. Hart as he hung up the phone.
Now, Charlie stared at the box and curiosity began to get the better of him. His fingers danced across the biohazard symbols, and he noticed a damp spot on the corner of the package where his Nikes got up close and personal with it. The strong, sweet aroma he noticed when he first found the box crossed his nostrils again, and he quickly pulled his fingers away before they touched the substance. A small reddish-orange spot had formed in the box’s corner and seeped out on the desk.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Charlie whispered and rushed to the sink for some paper towels.
Outside the door, he heard Fred whistling to whatever he was listening to on his Walkman and he stopped pulling all the paper towels from the dispenser.
What the fuck am I doing? We pay a janitor to clean stuff up. I’m only an unpaid TA, he thought.
Without hesitation, he rushed to the door and threw it open. The door hit something and stopped suddenly. The handle jerked violently from Charlie’s hand and Fred stood there with the door handle in his hand, seething.
“Sorry …” Charlie muttered. Looking in Fred’s eyes, he became genuinely scared for his life.
“Watch what ye’re doin’,” he spat and released the door.
“Yeah, sorry, Fred. There’s a small spill on Dr. Hart’s desk I need you to clean up when you go in to get the trash and stuff.”
Fred huffed and pushed past Charlie into the lab.
Sensing the time was right, Charlie took off and didn’t even go back in to grab his jacket. A mad Fred was something he didn’t feel like being around because he knew the extra two minutes’ worth of cleaning would delay Fred getting to the bar and when he was delayed getting to the bar, Fred wasn’t a nice guy. Not that he’d ever been accused of being a nice guy, but he did have a reputation of spending his weekly check from the university at The Round About every Friday once he split from the grind of emptying trash and cleaning bathrooms.
With Fred behind him cleaning up the mess on Dr. Hart’s desk, Charlie sprinted out the biology department’s main doors and into the cool autumn air.
2
“Fucking interns,” Fred muttered and glared at the orange goop pooled at the edge of the desk and dripping on the floor.
He sniffed the air and his stomach churned from the sugary stench. He hated candy and anything sweet gave him a bad case of gas. Sighing, he looked at the clock and felt the thirst growing deep in him. It was beer-thirty and he had a fresh paycheck to throw down on his sweet amber. If Fred had been a married man, the suds would’ve been his mistress. Digging through the different cleaners and towels on his battered yellow cleaning cart, he decided on a rough-looking green sponge. Fred tilted his head and considered the cleaner he would use also. He might be a drunk, but he was methodical about his work. No paycheck equaled no beer, and that was the only math he knew or abided by. Selecting the bleach mixture, he sprayed the floor and the area on the desk. Grabbing the box, he held it out from his body and placed it gently in the lab’s sink.
The smell of the liquid made his stomach quake and the urge to vomit kept rising in the back of his throat. Quickly, he wiped off the desk with a few fast swipes and hit his knees to finish off the putrid-looking orange goop. In the few moments it sat on the dingy white floor, he could see it staining the tiles further. He took a quick swipe through the fluid with his trusty rag, and his hand slipped. The rag sailed through the goo and his palm landed in the middle of it. Immediately, a burning sensation flared up where the orange goo covered his hand.
“Damn it!” Out of instinct, he stuck his hand in his mouth. When he had a burn, it was always the method he used to cool it off quickly.
The sweet smelling goo tasted bitter, but he swallowed then shot to his feet. His throat burned and he rushed to the sink. Turning on the cold water, he stuck his hand underneath; then turning his head awkwardly sideways, he began lapping the water into his mouth, straight from the faucet. The cold water did little to stop the pain racing down to his stomach, but he drank anyway.
Something in Fred’s gut churned. Bubbles formed in his intestines and he felt his face go flush. The lab windows were still open, and not even autumn’s chilly breeze blowing through comforted him. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and he doubled over as a cramp squeezed his insides like a vice. Reaching up, he felt his head; if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was on fire. Bile erupted from his mouth and the blackened bloody mixture splashed on the counter around the sink. A sour aroma filled his nose and a second wave of retching followed. More vomit spewed from his mouth and he felt light-headed. Everything in the lab swam and became blurry. Fred choked back another blast of vomit and it slid back down his throat. Gagging, Fred felt his eyes bulge and the world fade to black as he fell to the floor and his convulsing body grew still.
Outside, the campus grew louder as the students began to flood from their last classes to prepare for the big All Hollow’s Eve Greek Bash.
3
Rex Ross sat behind the mic at the station and rubbed his temples. Midterms had been a bitch, and the only release he had was spinning the metal tunes on the campus radio station. His girlfriend, Rachael Howard, was a student teacher at Middletown High School during the day and attended night classes at Middletown University during the evening. Because of her weekday schedule, she focused on lesson plans and sleeping on the weekends.
All of it made Rex an afterthought sometimes. He loved her, but the situation was wearing thin on him. He looked down and messed with the balance settings again. Over the last three days, he’d spent hours in the studio, preparing the playlist, and he hoped everything went off without a hitch. He took another peek at the clock on the wall and wondered where Charlie was. They’d known each other since second grade, and he needed his help for the dance.
The Greek houses had crews in, decorating and setting up the drink tables. He quietly watched as the Kappa guys made a huge bowl of a green punch and then empty a fifth of rum into it.
Ah, he hoped college would never end.
But he knew the end was drawing near. Rachael would finish her student teaching in December and be done. Rex loaded up on summer courses the past two years, and he’d be finished at the same time. Everything was going according to their plan. Rex remained optimistic and understood once her workload came to a halt in December, they’d be back to their normal routine.
And there was the wedding to plan for.
“Rex! Hey, you ready to go and grab a bite before the bitches get here?”
Rex rolled his eyes at the sound of Tad Johnson’s voice. He was head of the Phi Alpha Theta house and he thought of himself as a Greek god, Apollo or Dionysius in the flesh. Tad played for the football team and no matter how bad he did on an exam, always seemed to skate by and pass.
“I’ll be down in a second; I just need to finish up a few things. Why don’t you head over to the cafeteria and I’ll catch up?” Rex offered.
“Yeah, sure! But hurry up, I heard people are already lining up outside,” Tad said as he walked toward the doors.
Rex watched him exit the building, and he dug around in his pocket for his cell phone.
“Shit, two missed Rachael calls,” he muttered and dialed her number.
“Hello hands
ome,” her bubbly voice answered.
“Why hello, baby,” Rex crooned.
“How late is the party going to last tonight?”
“I think I should be broke down and packed by midnight. Will you still be up if I creep by?” he asked in a bad Bella Lugosi accent.
“I doubt it. I have to have my lesson plans finished for next week and my research paper outline is due. I’m getting so behind,” she moaned.
“I miss you.”
“I know and I’m sorry it’s turned to this right now. Once this semester’s over, we’ll take a break and go somewhere,” Rachael sighed.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Rex,” she said and he heard her lips give a kiss to the phone.
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Now raise the dead tonight.”
They both hung up and Rex stared out across the empty room. In half an hour, it would be full of drunken college kids celebrating Halloween.
He wished it’d stay empty and he could go spend the evening in Rachael’s arms. Instead, he had to get ready to go on with the show.
4
Marie Johns glanced in the biology department’s lounge and sighed heavily. The room was still a mess and it appeared Fred hadn’t been by to clean it yet. Styrofoam coffee cups and stirs were strewn across the counter and napkins were thrown next to the trashcan.
Good thing none of them play basketball, she thought and wondered how far behind Fred was.
Storming out of the lounge, she took a quick glance out in the hall; she still didn’t see his cart anywhere. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was ten after six. It wasn’t like him to be late on a Friday.
“That man,” Marie huffed and tore off toward the labs to search for him. Tonight he had a date with her, and she didn’t want to give him the opportunity to stand her up. Marie didn’t keep her figure looking as good as she did at fifty so she could get stood up on a date by the campus drunk. Her libido had already shredded most of the men in town, and with Fred, she realized she’d reached the bottom of the barrel, but she still hungered. It made her feel good to be wanted, even if it was by Fred.
