by J. Thorn
“Man, I’m tired of listening to the news,” Russell said. “Turn that shit off.”
Dax looked over to his friend as he took another drag from the joint. He reached over to the radio and, as a compromise, turned it down—but not all the way off.
“What the hell we doin’, man?” Chris asked. “We really gonna sit here and do nothin’?”
“Man, Clubber gonna have our asses for sittin’ around here like this,” Russell said.
“Fuck Clubber,” Dax said. “That nigga ain’t gonna do shit.”
The three men owed money to their dealer, Clubber. Dax had been selling Clubber’s brand of cocaine since he’d dropped out of college, but recently, Dax and his crew had run behind on payments. The deadline to get the dealer his money had come and gone during the storm.
“We gotta get him that money,” Chris said.
Dax swiped the beer cans off the table as he stood up, startling his friends. “Motherfucker gonna get his money. But he can wait. Look around you, dawg. We got much bigger problems going on. We got no power. It’s hot as shit in this place. And if you fools would pay attention to the radio, you’d know that ain’t no one comin’ to help us. Not the police. Not that motherfucker Bush and his band of white knights. No one.” He sat down again. “Clubber can wait.”
The men looked at Dax. They sighed, but nobody said another word.
“I’m going to get some sleep. Could be a few long nights of work ahead of us, yo.”
Dax walked down the hall of the abandoned house they had taken over and turned into a distribution center. He fell on the couch in his office, kicking up a cloud of dust. Dax set his Glock down on the nightstand and drifted off.
A tiny click woke him up. Before he had even opened his eyes, Dax thrust a hand out to grab his loaded handgun.
“Don’t even think about it.”
He stopped his hand inches from the weapon. Dax opened his eyes and saw Clubber standing in the middle of his room. Clubber’s right-hand man, Axel, shoved a gun in Dax’s face.
“How the fuck did you get in here?”
Clubber scoffed. “You think I can’t break through a damn chain lock? Come on now, Dax.”
“What do you want?”
“Do you know how to use a calendar?”
Dax started to sit up, but Axel placed the end of the barrel on Dax’s forehead and used it to push him back down onto the couch.
“Look, Clubber, I know I owe you money. But have you looked outside?”
Clubber took two steps toward the couch and punched Dax right in the face.
“You been dealing with me for a long time, Jackson. You oughta know better than to think some fucking storm is gonna get between me and my money.”
Dax wiped a dribble of blood from his left nostril. He glared at Clubber. Axel smiled, the gun still pointed at Dax’s face.
“You’ve got until tomorrow night to get me my eight grand.”
“Eight?” Dax said. “I owe you six.”
“No, you owed me six two days ago. Now you owe me eight.”
“How am I supposed to get you eight grand with all this shit going on?”
“Not my problem. But if you don’t...” Clubber walked over to the table in the corner that Dax used as a desk. He picked up a framed picture of Gabby, turning it so Axel could see. “Well, I’d hate to see something happen to your sister.”
Axel used the barrel of the gun to smash the picture from Clubber’s hand. The dealer laughed and then stomped on the frame with the heel of his boot.
“Tomorrow night, Dax. All of it—cash—or I’m paying a visit to this beautiful woman.”
32
Dax crawled behind a stack of boxes. The howling continued, and the temperature rose as the fire spread. His leg throbbed. It hurt more now than it had when the knife blade had first cut into his thigh.
No weapon. Bum leg. And some weird-ass shit going down in a building on fire.
Dax shook his head and cursed at himself for trusting Chuck and his men—especially Leo. He had spent enough time in prison to know better. But the next time he saw those thugs—if he could make it out of this building alive—he’d make sure they knew how angry he was.
The smoke thickened, forcing him to cough and pull his shirt up over his mouth. Dax climbed out from behind the boxes and poked his head to the side so that he could see into the hallway. He saw the shadows on the wall created by people running past. They hadn’t been yelling or talking, which Dax thought was odd given that the building was on fire. Someone turned in Dax’s direction, and his eyes met a pair glowing with a faint orange tint, like the others he’d seen earlier.
Dax ducked out of sight again, wiping the sweat from his brow and trying to cough into his arm so he wouldn’t draw attention. The temperature in the room had to have climbed past one hundred degrees. Flames licked the walls, and Dax heard a sound like a falling tree, which he assumed was part of the building collapsing in on itself. He listened, but couldn’t hear any of the howling he had heard earlier.
He took a step toward the hallway and groaned, using his hand to apply slight pressure to his wound. Dax winced and felt the moist, sticky blood that had begun to flow again.
He’d taken two steps into the hall when a massive flame burst from the room to his right. Dax covered his face and dove to the side, throwing his back against the wall. He felt the heat on his face and smelled burning hair before he realized it was his own eyebrows. He rubbed at them, feeling the brittle, singed hair on his fingers.
The fire crawled down the hallway. Tiles fell from the ceiling, and flames scorched the walls. Dax kept moving, hoping that he could make it to an exit before the smoke and fire brought him to his knees.
He rounded a corner and saw the exit at the end of a long hallway. The fire bit at his heels as he charged forward, practically dragging his injured leg along.
Get the fuck out of here, Dax. Hurry up.
Dax limped to the end of the hall, scanning each open room as he passed and looking up to make sure the flaming ceiling tile didn’t fall on his head. One came down toward him like a wounded bird with burning wings. He dove out of the way. The smoking tile crashed to the floor, sending more flames up the walls and along the carpet.
He passed the receptionist’s desk and pushed through the front door, sucking in fresh air and coughing out the carbon monoxide. Doubling over, he gasped for air as he tried to get the poison out of his lungs.
Dax looked around but saw nobody on the street. Whoever was in the building was either still in there or had already taken cover. He stood up and put his hands on his head, trying to expand his lungs and take in as much clean air as he could. Something moved to his right, and Dax turned in time to see a dark figure running at him.
He threw his hands up at the last moment, grabbing his attacker’s shirt as they both toppled to the ground. Dax landed on his back, the man on top of him, and looked up and into the face that was only inches from his own.
Holy fuck.
The man’s eyes glowed. When Dax had first seen this inside the other building, he’d thought it had to be an optical illusion, or perhaps the reflected light of the fire. But being nose-to-nose with the eyes now, it was clear there was no trickery involved—the man’s eyes glowed orange. Dax stared into the man’s face and felt a sense of loss—emptiness. It was as if the man was no longer inside of his body like he had become an animal.
A sudden ache gripped Dax’s temples, squeezing his head in an invisible vice and cranking it tighter. Memories flashed in silent explosions—his sister’s dead body hanging by a rope, Chloe trapped behind that fence, a fight in the prison yard. The memories felt as real as they’d been in the moments when they had happened.
“What are you doing to me?”
The man said nothing, his glowing eyes fixed on Dax. Without warning, the man tilted his head to the side and screamed. The shrill cry sounded like it came from a rabid raccoon. Dax let go of the man’s collar and slapped his hands over his ears, try
ing to keep the scream from piercing his eardrums.
Dax shifted his weight to one side and pushed up as hard as he could, creating some separation between them. But the man slammed Dax back down, leering over him and now growling like a wolf.
This lunatic is going to kill me.
A burst of gunfire exploded to his right—at least four shots, probably five. Dax felt the man’s grip loosen before he screamed and rolled off. Dax watched as the man took off into the street, running down a nearby alley. When he looked the other way, two men stepped forward.
“You all right, man?” Isaac said. When he got closer, his eyes widened. “Dax?”
Neil knelt down next to him. “Are you hurt?”
Dax pointed to his leg, showing the men the stab wound. “Just this, but I’m managing.”
“Who was that guy?” Isaac asked. “I put five rounds into him. No way someone would up and run away from that.”
“I don’t think that was a man. At least not anymore.”
“What was it then, Dax?” Neil asked.
Dax grabbed onto the older man’s shoulder. “Get me outta here, and I’ll explain on the way.”
33
“What are you doing out this late?”
“We came to look for you,” Neil said.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Isaac said.
“Where’s Chloe? Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” Neil said. “She’s back at our camp with the kids.”
“Did you guys leave that house?”
Neil nodded. “We found a four-story apartment building nearby that we’re staying in.”
Isaac pushed between the two men. “How are you guys not asking the most obvious question? What was that back there?”
“I don’t know,” Dax said.
Their eyes. Something with their eyes...
Dax looked at Neil. “You said this water is really toxic, right?”
“Yeah. You don’t want to know what-all’s in it.”
“Do you think it could spread some sort of virus we’ve never seen before?”
“Of course. But what virus could turn someone’s eyes into Christmas lights?”
They passed a two-story apartment building. A shriek came from somewhere on the ground floor.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” Dax said. “And keep your eyes peeled for danger. Human or not.”
On their way back to the building, Dax told Neil about the encounter with the two men in front of the restaurant, and how he’d ended up with a knife in his leg and what he’d seen in the Italian eatery next door. When Neil asked Dax why he’d been in a burning building, he explained how he had been knocked out and woken up in the room with Chuck and his gang. That they had set the fire together but then left Dax to die in it.
“Jesus,” Isaac said. He walked on the other side of Dax, with Neil between them.
“Wait,” Neil said. “So did you get to your sister’s?”
Dax stopped.
The other two men walked a few more yards before turning back to him.
“What?” Neil said. “Is everything all right?”
Dax kept walking, staring off into the distance.
“She’s dead.”
“We’re here,” Neil said.
None of the men had said a word since Dax’s revelation about his sister.
Dax looked up to see the old building. Even the graffiti-splattered plywood covering the windows had begun to brown and peel back at the corners. The floodwater had risen. Neil pulled the handle as hard as he could, the bottom of the door fighting against the water surrounding it.
“Get in, quick.”
Dax and Isaac rushed inside, and Neil shut the door. Water covered the concrete floor of the lobby. It ran down the hallway and beneath the door of each unit on the ground floor.
“We’ve been staying on the second level for now,” Neil said. “We’ll move up as the water rises, but it’s too darn hot up there right now.”
“Isaac!”
The kids at the top of the staircase shouted the teen’s name. Isaac rushed up the stairs, nearly slipping when his wet boots hit the dry stairs. When he reached the landing, Isaac brought all three kids into his embrace.
Dax was looking up at the kids when Chloe appeared from behind them. She looked down at Dax, her eyes bright and wet but her mouth turned upward into a slight smile.
He didn’t move. They stared at each other for several moments until Chloe began to cry. Dax climbed the stairs while Isaac and the children stepped aside. When he reached Chloe, Dax raised his hand to her face to wipe away the tears, but she grabbed onto his wrist. Then using her other hand, she slapped him.
“Don’t leave us again.”
Rubbing his cheek where the blow had connected, Dax nodded.
Chloe threw her arms around his neck as she began to cry. He held her, his hands caressing her back.
Chloe led Dax into her room. As she re-cleaned his wound, Dax told her about everything he’d been through. He explained what had happened at Gabby’s and she listened without asking questions or interrupting him.
“I’m so sorry, Dax.”
He grimaced as she wrapped his wound. She apologized, but he waved her off.
“You were right about her being a junkie.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Chloe pulled the cloth bandage tight.
“I’m worried about her kids. They probably don’t know their mother is dead, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“All we can do is hope the phones are back up soon.”
Doubtful.
“Look, I need to talk to you about everything else that happened to me.”
Chloe finished wrapping the wound and then sat back, her eyes fully focused on Dax. He told her about what he had seen in the Italian eatery and then inside the burning building. Her smile faded as the story went on.
“Glowing orange eyes?” She tilted her head to the side and shrugged. “What do you think could’ve caused that?”
“I don’t know. Neil and I talked about it on the way over here. It’s possible there’s something in the water, but there’s no way to know for sure. The worst part is that they seem to be able to sense humans. They’ll know we’re here and then they’ll come for us.”
“What, then?”
Dax stood, placing his hands on his hips as he turned away from Chloe. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. Isaac pumped several rounds into that man. And he ran off—screaming, but in one piece.”
He went to the door, placed his hand in the door frame and looked out into the hallway.
“What are we going to do, Dax? We don’t know how many of those things are out there, and we’re eventually going to run out of food here.”
Before he could answer, Neil and Isaac came to the door of Chloe’s room. Dax stepped to the side and let them in.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do. For now, we need to hang low here, ration what little food and water we have. At least until we have a better idea what we’re dealing with.” Dax looked to Neil. “How much more time do you think we have before the flood gets worse?”
“I’d say a couple of days, tops. And that’s all assuming, again, that it doesn’t rain. We’re pretty much up the creek if that happens. No pun intended.”
“We’ve got to get out of the city,” Isaac said.
“We can’t,” Dax said. “Not yet.”
Isaac approached Dax with a scowl on his face. “Who put you in charge?”
“I’m not in charge. But if you’re not going to listen to what I have to say, then why did you go out in the middle of the night looking for me?”
“I’m not gonna stay here,” said Isaac. ”Not when the city is flooding, and those monsters are out there.”
“Screamers,” Dax said.
“What?” Chloe said.
“That’s what I’ve been calling them in my head. They don’t talk or growl. They... scream.”
Isaac sto
mped his foot and pointed at Chloe. “Well, whatever you want to call them, I’m not going to let them get us.”
“Look,” Dax said. “We’re not going to—”
Screams from outside cut him off. Dax ran to the window and stood next to Chloe, who was looking down into the streets.
“Oh, my God,” Chloe said.
Pairs of orange dots moved through the darkness, dashing and darting like possessed fireflies.
“The eyes,” Chloe said. “Just like you described.”
The door to the kids’ room burst open, and they came running into Chloe’s room.
“What was that?” Monica asked.
“We have to get as high into the building as we can,” Dax said. “Is there somewhere upstairs we can hide?”
“There’s plenty of rooms up there,” Neil said.
Chloe started to grab some of her things, but when screams came from the outside again, Dax grabbed onto her arm.
“Leave it.”
He held onto her while he pulled her crutches from under her arms. He tossed them one by one across the room to Isaac. “Make yourself useful and carry those.”
“What are you doing?” Chloe asked.
Dax wrapped his arm around her waist and picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of laundry.
“Sorry, but we have to move. Quick.”
34
Chloe was at her desk assisting a client with a loan when the power went out. A collective gasp spread through the bank and people looked around at each other in confusion.
“One moment, please,” Chloe said to the client sitting in the chair across from her. She stood up. “Everyone, please stay calm.”
The generator rumbled to life, which turned on the emergency lighting. The rest of the bank’s electronics—computers, phones, video displays and main lighting—were all out.
She stepped into her boss’ office on the other side of the bank. He didn’t even see her come in, with his cell phone in one hand and his desk phone in the other.
“Mr. Sanderson?”
“They’re dead. Both of them,” he said as he held up the phones.
