After Everything Else (Book 3): Creeper Revelation

by Brett D. Houser

  “I stood there, waiting. Even through that thick door I could hear him coming up the stairs, coming fast. The door opened and he came running through, and all it took was a trip. I stuck out my foot and I tripped him. He went down, and the rifle went flying. I stood there for a second, kind of amazed that it had actually worked. And then I jumped on him as he scrambled for the rifle. I wasn’t feeling the pain of my arm, but it wasn’t really working right either.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. He must have realized how hard he was squeezing her hand because he let go. In the dim light she could see that his eyes were closed. Tears ran down his cheeks then.

  After a long pause he spoke again, and his voice shook. “It was so easy. He wasn’t a big guy. He was small. And weak. I think about it now. He was probably the guy that got picked on in high school. I sometimes watched when some of the guys on the team picked on kids like him. I didn’t say anything then. No hero, me. Some of the other guys would speak up and tell them to quit. Not all jocks are bullies, but I won’t lie. There are bullies who play football. They realize early on that they are bigger and stronger and feel like they have the right. But I never said anything.” He chuckled drily.

  “Not like I was thinking any of that stuff then. That came later. If I was thinking at all then, I was thinking it was me or him. When I jumped on him, all his breath went out of him. I think I probably cracked some of his ribs. He tried to get up and I let him get up on his elbows, but then I flipped him over until I was sitting on his stomach. All I had to do then was lean over him and put my forearm across his throat. It was pretty dark in there, but I could see his eyes were wide open and he was afraid. I put most of my weight on his throat. He tried to push my arm off, and his legs were kicking and he was arching his back under me, but I was just so much bigger than him. I felt something give in his throat. This terrible, terrible pop. His eyes bugged out real big, and pretty soon, he wasn’t moving at all. I stayed like that for a little bit. And then I realized he was dead. I had killed him.”

  Sonya finally spoke. “He would have killed you.”

  “I know that. I know that. But it doesn’t really change anything. I killed someone. Someone smaller and weaker than me. Maybe I didn’t have to. After I jumped on him, he was probably done. I could have knocked him out, maybe. I could have done something else. But I killed him. And that’s what I think about. I dream about it.” Sonya didn’t know what to expect then. Maybe tears. Maybe anger. She thought maybe, just maybe, the wall was down and this was no longer between them. But she looked at him, and he just looked drained. His face was emotionless as he looked into the coals. She knew that it wasn’t over, it wasn’t done. He was still living with it. But maybe this had helped. She hoped so.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

  Sonya didn’t think Chase slept any better than she did. The night was one of those in which she dozed rather than slept. There were no clocks. Chase had his watch, but she couldn’t see it. They started out cuddled together, but when she woke in the darkness, they had separated. She closed her eyes and thought she slept, but she had no idea how long. Chase had moved again and was holding her, but nothing else in the darkness had changed. She longed for a sign of morning, for a sign that the night was passing, but there wasn’t anything. She snuggled into Chase again, closed her eyes. This repeated over and over again. At last she opened her eyes and could make out the gray shape of the window. The crisscrossing boards formed gray triangles. She lay there thinking it was probably pretty close now. Chase’s breathing was slow and even. She closed her eyes one last time, and the next time she opened them, Chase was in the process of standing up. In the distance, the sound of gunfire.

  “They’re here,” was all Chase said. Her eyes felt dry, sandy, but she was wide awake. The adrenaline began, and she felt her hands shaking. She took a deep breath, sat up, and put on her shoes. They walked out together, holding hands. The vehicles rolled up, a Humvee with a gun mounted on top, a larger truck with a covered bed, and a truck with an open bed. In the open bed stood six or seven men in greenish uniforms wearing gas masks and pointing rifles at them. She started to raise her hands but Chase didn’t release the hand he held so she let them fall back to her sides.

  Four of the soldiers jumped from the back of the truck and walked toward them, guns at the ready. They stopped a few yards away. A door opened on the Humvee and another soldier stepped out. She knew he was in charge, although there wasn’t anything on his uniform that gave any indication. The biggest difference was the pistol he wore in a holster around his waist.

  “Put your hands up!” he shouted, putting his hand on the butt of the pistol. His voice was muffled by the mask.

  “Why?” Chase said. This seemed to stop the soldier, and it took him a moment to recover. Sonya, scared, wondered at Chase’s apparent calm. The way his hand was sweating in hers told her he was scared. But he wasn’t letting them know it.

  “Because you have several loaded guns pointed at you. Two of them are loaded with tranquilizers, but the rest are good old fashioned bullets,” the solider said.

  “If you’re going to shoot me, you’re going to shoot me,” Chase said. “What difference does it make if my hands are up or down?”

  Then the soldier did something that surprised Sonya. He laughed. “I guess you’re right, boy.” He turned to the soldiers and held his open hand toward them, palm down. He moved his hand downward in one quick motion, and the soldiers lowered their weapons. At least the ones nearest them did. The ones in the truck still stood ready. The man in charge turned back to Sonya and Chase. He looked around. “Where’s the other one?”

  “Dead. Maybe walking by now. Wish I could have put her down, but there were too many of them. We had to leave her,” Chase said. He lied so convincingly Sonya almost believed him herself. She tried to imagine it had happened that way. She was even able to make her eyes tear up.

  “Where?” the soldier asked.

  “What difference does it make?” Chase asked.

  “None to me. But I know a guy who’s interested in how immunes turn. He might be interested.” The soldier walked over to the remains of the campfire. He picked up a stick and stirred the ashes, bending over at the waist to do it. A few coals glowed feebly in the early morning light and the tip of the stick he used to stir them began to smoke.

  “Back by the interstate,” Chase said.

  “Oh, well,” the soldier said. “Be like looking for a certain grain of sand on a beach then, wouldn’t it?” He straightened. “Guess I’ll have my men take a look around anyway, just to be sure.” He held up two fingers and pointed to the house, two more fingers and waved his arm in a circle. The soldiers paired off, two entering the house. The other two walked toward the outbuildings.

  “How did you know there were three of us?” Chase asked.

  “We watched you,” the soldier said. At Chase’s puzzled look, he explained more. “We knew you were at the big ranch. We stayed back and watched you. We thought you’d stay there while we rounded up a couple more we found hiding nearby. That ranch was a good place to hole up. Surprised us when we rolled in and you were gone.”

  The two soldiers came out of the house. “All clear,” one of them said. The man in charge waved toward the nearby copse of trees where Marilyn was hiding. Sonya tried not to show any sign of dismay.

  “Why are people hiding from you down here, anyway?” Chase asked. “I thought you guys were supposed to be the good guys.”

  “Maybe we are. But at the end, when everything went wrong, we had to be the bad guys, too. At least from their point of view. We had to try to contain things. We did…things that had to be done. Might have changed people’s perceptions a little.” All four of the soldiers on the ground reappeared, gathered around Chase and Sonya in a loose circle, facing them. “But enough chatter. Time to get you to safety. Sorry about this, but we have to be sure that you don’t get weird on us. At least you don’t have to worry about the Subjects anymore
.” He signaled to the two soldiers left in the back of the truck. There were two soft pops, and a sudden sharp pain in her stomach. She looked down, and a brightly colored cone at the end of what looked like a weird hypodermic needle had appeared on her shirt. She turned toward Chase, but as she turned, her knees gave way. She fell, and as she fell she saw Chase falling, too.

  Oh, no, she thought. Not again. She thought it would be like with the Chief back in Kentucky, but it wasn’t. She thought she would still be awake. She was wrong. The world went black.

  Chapter 22 – Chase

  Being shot didn’t surprise Chase. He had expected it. Audrey had said they shot the others, and it really made sense on one level. The soldiers had to do something. They were so vulnerable. All it would take is him knocking one of their gas masks off or maybe even just tearing one of their suits. He had been ready to be tranquilized. He hadn’t known how it would feel, though. There was a sudden, sharp pain. He thought the pain would go away, but it didn’t. He still felt everything. He thought it would knock him out. It didn’t do that, either. His muscles went all rubbery, and then he just couldn’t move. It was like a bad dream, one of those dreams where he would be trying to fight or run and he couldn’t move. Except there was no waking up. He fell, and he was aware that Sonya fell next to him, but he couldn’t turn his head to see her. He thought he had fallen partially on her.

  The soldiers ran over, the one in charge leading the way. They shoved Chase to one side and concentrated on Sonya. Chase couldn’t see what they were doing. “Is she still breathing?” the head guy said.

  “I don’t think so, Top,” said one of the others. “What do you think she is, about fifty kilos?”

  “Lucky to be that,” said another voice. Chase recognized it as belonging to the one in charge. “Too much juice. We’re going to have to stick her.”

  Chase heard the tearing sound of a Velcro fastener being opened, and after a brief silence, a gasp. It wasn’t muffled like the soldiers voices, so he guessed it was Sonya. “That got her,” said one of the voices.

  “She conscious?”

  “No. Let’s get them loaded. She might wake up,” said Top. “I’ve got her. The rest of you get him. Big kid.”

  He felt hands on him. They patted him down. He felt them take the knife he wore on his belt. Then they lifted him, and they weren’t careful with him. The four soldiers grabbed him by the arms and legs and dragged him a short distance. His head hung down and jarred against the dirt of the barnyard, but despite this upside down and bouncing view he could see Sonya still lying on the ground behind them. The one with the pistol, the one called Top, picked Sonya up in a fireman’s carry, pulling her up by her arms and lifting her slight bulk with ease. The four soldiers carrying him set him down, shifted their grips, and wrestled him into the back of the truck, banging his head once against something metal. They shoved him into the back as far as they could. Chase faced the rear, lying on his side. Top appeared then and gently placed Sonya in the truck bed, pushing her back until she blocked his line of sight. Then the light dimmed as they closed the doors across the back of the truck. The only light was what came in through the gaps in the canvas. He could hear voices outside but couldn’t make out the words. Then the motor started, and the truck began to move.

  Chase, his head resting on the metal truck bed, felt every vibration and bump. After leaving the rutted driveway and turning onto the paved road things were slightly better, but between the blow on the head and the constant jarring, he still had difficulty thinking. He watched Sonya’s still form directly in front of him, looking for some sign of movement. He wondered if she was paralyzed as he was or if she was truly unconscious. He tried to speak, but a low moan was the best he could manage. He concentrated on moving his left arm, the one not pinned beneath him. He thought he felt it move, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the motion of the truck or if he had done it. Then Sonya moaned in front of him. She rolled until she was lying flat on her back. Her arms came up and made an awkward pushing away motion and then fell back onto her chest.

  “Shaysh?” she slurred. He moaned, trying to answer her. This time he was sure he moved his arm as he tried to reach out for her, but it fell short and flopped into the space between them. “Chaysh?” she said again. He could hear fear in her voice and wanted to comfort her, but all he could do was lie there and moan. Sonya rolled again, this time facing him. He could barely make out her features in the near darkness. She reached out and touched his hand. The truck shook and bounced, the motor roared, and there was no way of knowing what they had gotten themselves into. But they were together.

  The truck made turn after turn, travelling over several different surfaces. There was no way of telling how long they travelled or how far. Eventually, Chase regained some use of his arms and legs. Sonya was almost fully recovered.

  “Was that your plan?” she whispered. “Because it kind of sucked.”

  “Pretty much that was it,” Chase said. “And it did suck. Help me sit up.”

  Sonya pulled and lifted as best she could, and they were able to raise Chase up to a slouched leaning position against one of the sides of the bed of the truck.

  “What now?” Sonya asked.

  Chase directed her to take off his shirt. He was wearing a bright plaid shirt over a t-shirt, pretty warm for Florida, but that had been part of his plan. Her fingers fumbled at the buttons, but eventually she got it off.

  “Tear it into strips, and drop them from the back,” he told her.

  “Won’t the truck behind us see them?” she asked.

  Chase thought. “Wad them into little balls. I don’t know if it will work, but we have to try to give Marilyn some kind of trail. Wait a little bit after every turn and drop one.”

  Sonya nodded and used her teeth to start a tear on the material.

  They stopped several times along the way, but there was no way of knowing why. Several times they heard their captors exchanging information with other people, other groups. All the voices were muffled by masks, but from the little conversation Chase could make out, there were two different groups. There were Collectors, which was what their group was. Then there was Clean-up. When they stopped at one point, the conversation had centered around clearing a highway, and Chase got the feeling they didn’t mean of cars. There was a strong smell of burning, but it wasn’t wood. He heard them refer to something called claymores, and that they were almost out.

  Then after a short drive, they stopped again. Chase wasn’t positive, but he felt they were going down. It was a short trip. Then the truck rolled forward again and stopped, and the engine cut off. Another, smaller motor started and ran for a little bit. There was a clank, and then there was the echoing sound of footsteps on concrete in a confined space. The canvas across the back of the truck was pulled to one side and a flashlight blinded him.

  “She’s moving. He’s still down,” a voice called out.

  “Very good,” came the voice of the one called Top. “Okay, you two. We’re going to open up. We have more tranquilizer darts if we need them, but there’s not much sense in that. You’re safe here. Safest you’ve been since the beginning of this whole mess. And in just a few minutes, you’ll have a better idea what’s going on if you cooperate.”

  Chase looked at Sonya and smiled. She smiled back nervously. “Okay,” Chase said. “We’ll be good.”

  The door opened. Two of the soldiers stood back, pointing what Chase guessed were the dart guns. They sure didn’t look like real guns. The one called Top, still wearing the pistol in a holster around his waist, stood between them. “Can you move enough to get out on your own?” he asked.

  “One way to find out,” Chase answered. He rolled to all fours and started crawling. He felt weak, but so far his arms and legs were moving him forward. He wasn’t sure he could walk. When he looked at Sonya again, she seemed to be doing fine. She kept one hand on the side of the bed of the truck as she walked to the rear, but she was upright. When she reached the e
dge, she down with her legs hanging over and looked back at Chase. He joined her. The ground was a couple of feet below. Sonya slid down first and stood. Chase pushed off, keeping one hand on the truck. He still would have fallen if Sonya hadn’t caught him.

  “Very good,” Top said. “Can you walk? We have a stretcher if you need to be carried.”

  “I think so,” Chase said. “It’s getting better the more I move around.”

  “That’s the way it works. Supposed to wear off pretty quickly. Developed to tag wildlife, and let them recover quickly. Works pretty good on people, but we can’t really calculate the dosage. Sorry about that, young lady.”

  “So why am I not dead?” Sonya asked.

  “We have an antidote. That’s why you recovered faster. Now, if you’ll just follow me to decontamination, we’ll get that started.” He turned and started walking toward a door set in the wall. Chase followed him, looking around for the first time, noticing where he was. They were obviously in an underground chamber, and it was huge. The rough cement walls stretched into the distance, but Chase could see the entire room even in the feeble light of the few fluorescent bulbs. There were several vehicles lined against the wall, all military. Machinery sat in a corner. Chase guessed this had something to do with how they had gotten down here. Then they were through the door and into another, much smaller room.