Green Ice: A Deadly High

by Christian Fletcher

  The four of them instinctively flinched and ducked their heads when a loud booming noise reverberated through the corridor. Mancini saw a brief orange flash of gunfire from the back room and heard the old guy yell something inaudible and several shrieks and groans from the enclosing infected.

  “Let’s roll,” Mancini hissed and pushed his way through the front door.

  The others followed through the doorway as another loud boom sounded behind them. Trey shut the front door once the whole party was outside the house and into the street. Mancini waved them forward. They turned right along the street and started running in a light jog.

  “Sounds like the old guy is re-enacting The Alamo in there,” Trey said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the house.

  “That battle was when the U.S. was fighting off the Mexicans,” Mancini sighed.

  “Whatever, man,” Trey whispered. “Which way now?”

  Mancini studied the street and tried to gather his bearings in relation to where the Thunderbird was parked. “We need to try and backtrack somehow and hope the street is clear where we left the car. Trouble is, these god damn streets all look the same in the dark.”

  “Do you have that other gun with you?” Jorge asked. “I saw you take two guns from that Sonny guy back on the roadside.”

  Mancini shook his head. “I left it in the trunk of the T-Bird. And…no, I wouldn’t let you have it anyhow, Jorge.”

  Jorge muttered under his breath and glanced back down the street. He sweated heavily and his breathing was wheezy. “They’ll be coming after us soon enough. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with this pace.”

  Mancini turned to look at him. “I’m keeping to a slow pace so you can stay with me. Get your shit together, man,” he growled.

  “Where is everybody?” Trey sighed. “It seems like the whole population in this vicinity just disappeared, man. I thought we’d see some people out on the streets. So far, we’ve only met that kooky old guy, seen a few dudes before that road closed sign and a bunch of people in their cars back on the main highway.”

  “They probably blocked this part of the city for a good reason,” Leticia said. “This may well be where the center of the outbreak is. That old man said he’d heard some reports on the radio. That’s why they tried to contain this area.”

  “And we’re stuck right in the center of it all,” Mancini groaned. He noticed another darkened side street to their right. “Let’s try that route. With any luck, it may take us back to where we need to be.”

  Mancini led the party on a right turn up the side street, which inclined slightly. A bar and a general store stood on either corner of the road. Both establishments were dark inside, the windows covered with meshed wire grills. Nobody walked the streets and the shrieks of the infected from somewhere in the distance cut through the night air.

  Trey turned to Leticia and flashed a forced smile, hoping to uplift her gloomy demeanor. He felt an emotion of impending doom wash over him and wondered if they would manage to even get out of this city, let alone make it all the way to La Paz further to the south. The murky bar interior seemed to reflect his thoughts. He longed for a place full of life, banter and happiness but the bar was desolate and deserted, dark and gloomy with no merriment and nobody inside. Were they simply refusing to admit the inevitable and soon meet with a grisly fate or join the ranks of the infected creatures?

  Trey glanced at Jorge, shuffling along the street alongside him and felt like shooting him, several times over. Jorge and his cronies had single handedly managed to cause the whole disturbance and probably the deaths of countless people who didn’t have anything to do with the drug scene. Innocent people were being attacked by the infected and turning into monsters themselves. Trey thought Jorge wasn’t even showing any kind of remorse for his actions, seemingly only concerned with saving himself. He wondered what sort of gruesome end awaited the thief and drug trafficker, if and when the situation was finally resolved. A bullet in the head would be a too quick and painless death for that motherfucker.

  Trey was no stranger to narcotics himself. He’d smoked a hell of a lot of weed and snorted the odd line of wacky dust now and again, but he’d never indulged in anything too heavy and vowed never to try after witnessing the results of the green ice, which had been chemically enhanced to deliberately shoot the brain to shit.

  Mancini led the way to the end of the side street but stopped in his tracks when the reflections of flashing blue and red lights blazed across the plate glass windows of the surrounding stores. He held up his hand in a stop motion for the benefit of the others behind him. Trey, Leticia and Jorge recognized the signal and willingly complied.

  “Cops,” Mancini hissed. “And it looks as though they’re heading this way.”

  Chapter Fifty

  “Why don’t we just go and meet up with them?” Leticia whispered. “The police might take us back to our car and allow us to drive away through the city.”

  “They might also impound the Thunderbird and throw our asses in jail,” Mancini hissed. “We need to get out of plain sight.” He glanced around the side street as the roar of police vehicles rapidly approached.

  “We can’t go back the way we came,” Jorge wailed. “Those streets are full of those devil people.”

  “Give that man a gold star for stating the damn obvious,” Mancini croaked. His gaze fell on an inclining set of fire escape steps, steeped in shadow beside a two storey building to their right. “Follow me,” he barked.

  Mancini hurried towards the building’s fire escape ladder, hotly pursued by Trey, Leticia and Jorge. The shadows swallowed them from immediate view of the side street but the blue and red flashing beacons drew closer.

  “Keep close to the wall,” Mancini instructed. He felt the sensation of the cool bricks through his shirt as he pressed his back against the side of the building.

  The four kept themselves pushed tightly into the shadow, slightly in front of the fire escape steps without moving or making a sound. They watched the flashing lights draw nearer to the mouth of the road.

  A voice calling from further down the side street caused Mancini’s head to sharply swivel in the opposite direction.

  “Ayuda…ayudeme,” the croaky male voice yelled.

  “Somebody is calling for help,” Leticia whispered and started to shuffle from the shadows towards the street.

  Mancini immediately blocked her movement with his forearm. “Stay put,” he hissed through clenched teeth. Mancini wasn’t sure if the guy was calling to them or had seen the flashing emergency lights up ahead and asking them for assistance. He wasn’t going to risk blowing their cover.

  A short, rotund man with thinning dark hair and wearing a light colored suit, half staggered and half trotted up the inclining side street towards the flashing police lights. He moved by the fire escape ladders without stopping or drawing any attention to the hiding quartet. Mancini felt slightly relieved they hadn’t been spotted. He noticed blood stains soaking across the guy’s jacket on his right shoulder and his hand was clamped over the side of his neck. The guy breathed heavily and muttered incoherently as his heavy footsteps rattled on the blacktop, echoing across the deserted store fronts.

  Two slow moving police cars crawled along the main road, running at a right angle to the top of the side street. Circular shaped, florescent white search lights shone out from the law enforcement vehicles, scouring the adjacent sidewalks, alleyways and side streets.

  Mancini pressed himself hard against the wall and encouraged the rest of his party to do the same.

  The guy in the suit, with the neck wound yelled at the cop cars and waved his left arm above his head. He smiled slightly, gasped and trotted towards the search lights with renewed vigor. The bright white lights centered on the guy, illuminating him so he looked like a ghost. The law enforcement vehicles abruptly halted, keeping the search lights trained on the blood soaked guy. He stopped moving, trying to shield his eyes from the bright lights with hi
s hands.

  A tinny voice boomed from a public address speaker on top of the leading cop car. “No te muevas, no te muevas!” The voice sounded harsh and authoritative.

  “They are telling him to stop,” Jorge whispered.

  Mancini scowled and placed his index finger to his lips.

  The clunking of car doors opening and closing sounded from behind the source of the bright lights. The guy wailed and threw his hands into the air then started to stagger forward once again. The tinny voice repeated the stark warning a second time but the man refused to comply.

  A burst of semi-automatic gunfire reverberated around the side street and the guy in the suit performed some kind of crazy dance for around a second. His legs wobbled and his torso rocked from side to side while he staggered backward. Jets of blood pulsed from large exit wounds in his back, as the semi-automatic rounds tore through his body. The guy’s head rocked back and his face contorted in fleeting agony before he keeled over on his back onto the blacktop in the center of the side street.

  Leticia stifled a scream by placing her hand over her mouth. Mancini held up the palm of his hand, instructing his party to remain quiet. They heard slow, shuffling footsteps and three black clad law enforcement agents, each brandishing a semi-automatic assault rifle cautiously approached the prone body.

  Mancini’s mind raced. These guys meant business and obviously weren’t just local beat cops. They were shooting suspected infected people on sight without bothering to ask any questions. Mancini could hardly blame them and he figured he’d be doing exactly the same if he were in their shoes. Also, he’d be scouring the immediate vicinity for any more potentially infected personnel. An act the armed agents were highly likely to perform in the next few seconds, once they’d checked over the dead guy. The whole area had been cordoned and now these law agents were attempting to clear the danger by means of lethal force. Alarm bells rang within Mancini’s head. He desperately glanced around in the shadows for an alternative escape route. The three law agents knelt beside the corpse on the road and muttered to each other then nodded. They stood, glancing in each direction and took flashlights from their utility belts.

  Mancini knew their hiding place was about to be seriously compromised, with only one fatal outcome.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Mancini decided the only escape route was to ascend the steps immediately next to them and hope they could climb silently without being spotted. He tapped Trey on his shoulder and pointed to the fire escape, hoping his accomplice saw his hand movement and recognized the instruction. Ambiguity aside, Mancini decided to silently lead the way up the fire escape, hoping the others understood and followed him.

  Trey crept close behind Mancini, holding Leticia’s hand and leading her with him. Jorge noticed the movement beside him and watched Mancini slowly head up the fire escape steps. Reluctantly, Jorge followed, after briefly considering then rejecting the idea of surrendering to the law enforcement agents.

  Mancini held onto the handrail frame as he took each step, wincing at every miniscule sound the others made behind him. As they ascended, the sound of the armed law agent’s voices drifted upward to their position. Mancini couldn’t understand exactly what they were talking about but he assumed they were going to carry out a cursory search of the immediate area.

  Flashlight beams darted across the building fronts and further down the side street. Mancini knew they only had a few seconds before one of the agents would shine their flashlights upwards slightly and spot them climbing the steps. He anticipated bright lights illuminating him, raised voices and gunfire swarming upon them at any moment.

  Gritting his teeth in determination and hope, Mancini continued to ascend the fire escape. He heard the sound of Trey and Leticia’s heavy breathing behind him.

  The metallic walkway peaked on a grilled platform at the summit of the steps and Mancini noticed the fire door amongst the gloom. He reached out his hand and touched the rough wooden door. Feeling around the frame with his fingers, Mancini discovered the door was slightly open. Trey bumped into Mancini’s back as he came to a standstill on the level platform.

  Mancini jabbed his thumb at the door and nodded towards it with his head. He wasn’t aware if Trey could see him or comprehend his intention. With a large slice of luck, they could duck into the room beyond the fire door and wait out until the law enforcement guys gave up their search and drove away in their vehicles.

  Leticia and Jorge shuffled onto the platform behind Trey and Mancini. The flashlight beams below continued to wave around the street and the building facades, around twenty feet below.

  Mancini crooked his fingers around the edge of the door and slowly pulled it open. He winced when the hinges creaked loudly in a high pitched squealing that cut through the night. The flashlight beams immediately changed direction, all three lights flicked rapidly towards the source of the noise. Mancini blinked against the intense white light but tugged the door open wide. Gruff voices yelled orders from the street below the fire escape platform but Mancini ignored the vociferous threats. He hurried through the doorway into total inky blackness. Trey, Leticia and Jorge followed Mancini’s lead and stumbled through the fire door.

  Semi-automatic rifle fire rattled from the street below with the rounds peppering the doorframe and the surrounding brickwork, sending orange ricochet flashes spiraling across the adjacent rooftops.

  “What the fuck, man? They’re trying to kill us,” Trey screeched, as he bundled through the doorway.

  Jorge’s foot snagged on something and he clattered over onto the floor. He yelled in pain when he felt a sharp object pierce his thigh.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Mancini hissed in the darkness. He knew the law agents would be thundering up the staircase behind them in the next few seconds.

  Jorge continued to make a grunting noise as he tried to bear the pain. Leticia huddled beside Trey, both of them crouching a few feet from the fire door and slowly shuffling further inside the dark room.

  Mancini’s mind raced. They had to move quickly but couldn’t see where the hell they were going. He fumbled in his jacket pockets and pulled out his Zippo lighter. When he flicked the flint, the room lit in a gloomy orange hue around the flame. Mancini thought Trey and Leticia looked like specters as their worried faces stared at him from the murkiness. Jorge clamped his hand around his thigh, trying to scrabble to his feet. A wooden pallet lay on the floor next to him with a few exposed nails poking up around the slats.

  “I tripped on that,” Jorge gasped, nodding at the pallet as he stood. He took his hand away from his thigh and his palm was coated in blood. “I must have landed on one of those damn nails.”

  “Never mind that,” Mancini hissed. “We have to find a way out of here. Those goons with guns are going to be charging through that doorway any minute now.”

  They heard the sound of boots clanking up the metal fire escape staircase outside the room. Mancini held his lighter above his head and quickly glanced around the space around him. They stood inside what looked like an attic space around thirty feet long and twenty wide. Dust covered cardboard boxes and stacks of chairs stood beside the rear and side walls. Mancini caught sight of an open hatch in the floor, near to the end of the far wall. As he made his way closer to the opening, he noticed a ladder descending down into darkness below. Trey, Leticia and Jorge followed him across the room.

  “Get down that hatch and fast,” Mancini instructed, pointing to the ladder.

  Jorge went down the hatch first, followed by Leticia and then Trey. Mancini waited but his lighter grew too hot to hold. He clamped the lid down, extinguishing the flame and slipped the lighter back into his pocket. The attic was plunged into total darkness and Mancini had to feel his way to the edge of the hatch. He drew his handgun when he saw silvery flickers from a flashlight shining inside the room. The light came from the fire exit door and Mancini heard hushed but excited voices from the platform outside.

  Feeling for the top rung with his foo
t, Mancini stepped onto the ladder and began his descent. He was halfway through the hatch when the flashlight beam shone around the attic space and the silhouettes of two figures entered through the fire door, one behind the other. The flashlights swept around the doorway and across the attic. Mancini spotted a fire extinguisher fixed to the wall at waist height, beside the fire door frame. He took aim and fired one shot, hitting the cylindrical, red colored fire extinguisher on the left side. The round pierced the container and released the high pressured foam in an explosion of spray, showering the two armed guys entering through the doorway. The law agents cried out in surprise and shock and one of them fired his semi automatic in a random act of retaliation. The muzzle flash briefly illuminated the doorway, the rounds zipping through the darkness and slamming into the cardboard boxes at the end of the attic space.

  Mancini ducked through the hatch and half slid, half fell down the ladder. He landed heavily on the hard surface below but somehow managed to stay on his feet. Pain throbbed through his injured knee and he hoped he hadn’t sustained any serious damage. The space Mancini now occupied was long and wide and the moon shone through a spacious plate glass window straight ahead of him. He knew he had to get away from the hatch opening as the law agents would surely discover it in the next few seconds. They’d more than likely send a volley of semi automatic rounds after him, before they climbed down the ladder.

  A long bar ran along the wall to the left and mirror covered columns stood at regular intervals around the room. Mancini realized he was inside some kind of bar or nightclub as he rushed to the front windows, hoping to find the exit door. He didn’t know where the others had gone and assumed they’d found a way out of the building.

  Mancini tried the door handle in the center of the glass frontage but found it was locked with a padlock and a thick metal chain. Wire mesh, in crisscross patterns were embedded within the plate glass window. Even if he fired his handgun at the window, the rounds wouldn’t shatter the glass. He glanced around frantically then checked the attic hatch with a quick look over his shoulder.