On the bright side, because I believed in silver linings, there was no one around to oppose me when I began ransacking stores to stock up on food, water, and a laundry list of other necessities. My basement was stocked with supplies; everything from non-perishable food to hygiene and medical products. I’d traded in my Beamer for an oversized truck that allowed me to haul whatever I needed. Gas wasn’t a concern once I learned how to siphon it from other vehicles. Sucking gasoline through a piece of plastic tubing wasn’t the most pleasant job, but at least it gave my nose and taste buds a respite from the film of decay that saturated the air.
I was up long before the sun and prepared to head west toward Grand Rapids on day eight. I hated the number eight. Flashbacks of that first morning rushed my mind like water from a damn.
Posted eight hours ago.
Tears threatened to pool in my brown eyes, but I immediately thwarted their attempt to spill over on to my face. There was no time for brooding at the beginning of the day. I had work to do, a plan to execute, survivors to find. No matter how hopeless it seemed with each passing day, I refused to give up. I had a gun set aside on my nightstand for use when the day came. I would know it when it was time. I was certain of that. There would be no more tears. The emptiness would come to an end, and maybe there would even be someone waiting for me on the other side when I decided to go, though I wasn’t ready just yet.
I went outside to start a fire in the pit I had dug in my yard four days ago. Boiling water outdoors was the only way to get my coffee fix in the new world. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but I refused to surrender my caffeine addiction. I missed my flavored creamer, but the powdered stuff was better than nothing. It was one of the first things I hauled out of Sam’s Club on my way back home the second day. I may have been in hell, but I didn’t think even Satan would deprive his minions of a decent cup of coffee.
With my truck already fueled up and ready to go, I headed due west out of town with my trusty map splayed out in the passenger seat beside me. The sky was still dark, the radio had long since gone silent, and the world was still dead as far as I could see.
More than two hours had passed and I was tired of driving, being alone and of having no one to chat with. I sang every song I could remember from before the world ended. I couldn’t hold a tune to save my life, but luckily, I didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing me, so I belted out the off pitch lyrics like a rock star.
Just as the sun began to peek out above the horizon, I turned off the interstate at a rest area. I maneuvered the truck into a parking spot near the small brown building that housed bathrooms, vending machines, maps and brochures. I jumped out of the truck and stretched my cramped limbs, bending over and letting the tips of my fingers graze the cement below me, loosening my stiff back. I shot up quickly when my ears picked up a low moaning from inside the dilapidated building. My first thought was to rush inside, but my feet were rooted to the spot. My pulse quickened as my mind raced with thoughts of who or what could’ve made the sound. Is someone hurt? Is it a rabid dog? I’m quite a distance from a major city. What if it’s a wild animal? My brain began to run through the prospects. Coyote, bear, or a big wild cat?
I grabbed the crowbar that I’d found hiding under the front seat when I stole the truck days ago. I had no idea what I might run into on my travels so far from home, so it seemed logical to keep some type of weapon close at hand. I quietly closed the door to the cab of the truck, wincing when the latch clicked. In a silent world, every noise echoed.
I walked cautiously toward the structure, stepping over abandoned trash and empty pop cans that littered the ground. Another moan erupted from the propped open doors. I guessed that whatever was making the noise was tucked away in one of the bathrooms because I couldn’t see anything in the main area. Hearing the noise a second time provided hope that I hadn’t imagined it, like I had that first day in the police station. Sound is good. It means I’m not alone!
I pushed open the door to the women’s bathroom first; not because I’m a woman, but because it was the closest door to the entrance. The putrid smell made me gag immediately. I rushed to the sink and violently emptied the contents of my stomach. When I was finished, I twisted the faucet out of habit, but not even a drop leaked out.
I shook my head. “Great, now I smell as bad as the rest of them.”
I kept my voice low, but it echoed through the tiled room anyway, causing the moaning thing to stir again in the distance.
“Well, you’re not in this room.”
I walked slowly through the bathroom, each door emitting out a bone-chilling groan as I inspected the stalls. I had to be sure nothing was missed before moving on. Satisfied that the only thing in the women’s bathroom other than me was the decomposing corpse in the second to last stall, I quickly exited. I turned left out of the bathroom and headed toward the men’s room. I put my ear up to the door, but heard nothing. I tapped the crowbar on the door twice before entering. The noise I had made caused the moaning to begin again on the other side. With my heart pounding in my chest, I pushed the long metal handle down and pulled the door open hard.
The man on the other side pushed as I pulled and sent us both flying to the ground hard, his weight knocking the air from my lungs. The back of my skull hit the concrete floor with an audible crack, and my vision blurred instantly. A guttural sound filled my left ear where the man’s face lay only inches away. With my hands on his chest and my eyes squeezed tight, I pushed as hard as my scrawny arms could manage, but the man was strong and unrelenting. Don’t let me pass out. Grunting and screaming, I tried to force him off of me. I managed to lift his weight enough in my panicked frenzy to wedge my left knee between us. With the newly gained leverage, I pulled my right leg up next to my left and heaved the snarling man off with my feet.
I scrambled to my feet, quickly searching the ground for my crowbar, but with my head pounding, my vision distorted, and my pulse racing, there wasn’t enough time to regain composure before the maniac lunged at me again. I dodged and ran out of the doors screaming my fool head off. I don’t know why I was yelling for help. The only other person moving was obviously not concerned for my safety. Luckily, I’d left the truck unlocked because I barely made it into the safety of the truck cab before he rammed his shoulder into the side, making a sizeable dent. I quickly locked the door and reached over to do the same on the other side. Looking through the passenger window brought a whole new set of problems. There were at least five more people charging at my truck, most likely attracted by the commotion.
I’d lost my crowbar, the only thing I had in the world to defend myself with. I am screwed. What do these people want from me? In that moment my vision cleared enough to notice the pale blue tint of the man’s skin. His sunken eyes were as cloudy as the sky.
I screamed at the enraged man in a voice I hardly recognized. “Holy shit…you’re dead!”
The high-pitched squeal of my voice seemed to rile him up. He continued to pound against the truck door with seemingly super human strength. I fumbled with the keys before shoving them into the ignition and turning the engine over. Throwing the vehicle in reverse, I looked behind me as I backed up. The resounding pop of gunfire whipped me back around, and I watched as the feral man dropped to the ground in front of the truck. My mouth fell open as I watched the thick black substance ooze from his open skull. The acrid smell permeated the air conditioning vents from twenty feet away causing my eyes to water and my vision to blur once more. If there’d been anything left in my stomach, I would have been wearing it.
When the shock of what happened wore off, I wiped my face and turned to look out of my window. A younger man, closer to my own age, approached the scene at a steady pace. He wasn’t charging at me like the other guy, but I threw the gear shifter into drive and prepared to run him down anyway. He stopped just short of the man he’d shot and aimed his large gun beyond my truck to the right. He pulled the trigger repeatedly and without hesitation until the last of t
he angry mob fell, the pile of limp bodies releasing a pool of black sludge around them.
The younger man slung a thick black strap over his shoulder, allowing the rifle to slide across his back and proceeded to head toward me.
He raised his hands in surrender and shouted, “Are you okay?”
I stared at him for several seconds before I felt my head slowly nod. I couldn’t be sure that I was okay, but I was still alive after the horrific ordeal and I was pretty sure I had him to thank for it.
I hadn’t given up.
I’d found another living, breathing person in this dead world.
But my victory brought with it a new mission…
Red Scorpion
Yasmin Fazli
Chapter One
Kira had twelve hours to live.
The room was pitch black. She had thought of every possible scenario; she’d planned, re-planned and then planned all over again. Every entry, every exit, anything and everything had been meticulously gone over. Nothing could be left to chance, her life depended on it. There was nowhere he could hide and there was nowhere he could go. She took in a deep breath; the calm before the drop.
He had a date with destiny and she was almost ready to make an appearance. She slipped an onyx titanium helmet over her head and pressed a button next to her ear. The inside of the helmet lit up like a cockpit. GPS coordinates via heads up display popped like corn on the left side of her face. Her vital stats began sequencing on the right. “Weapons check,” she whispered. The computer system went through various guns that were holstered to the suit she had just slipped on: a Glock with armor piercing bullets; a modified Uzi and her personal favorite snub-nosed AK47 with dual clips and 185 rounds of pure hell. The COMP piped in: “All weapons functioning; may I make a suggestion?”
“No you may not, Link. This is my show.”
“But you may want to re-consider…”
“AAAAAHHH! Stop or I’ll turn you off.”
“Very well, proceed.” The COMP went silent.
She put her black leather jacket on and looked outside the window one last time. The city lights glowed. It wasn’t a bright, full light that beamed across the city, but it was the twinkling of dull furnaces, electric signs, and mostly the rich estates that flickered in the night like the crackles of a fire. Then she went dark. Infrared snapped on and everything went thermal.
She exited her room. “Lights out, Link.”
“On it.” Link took over and a few seconds later the hallway went dark.
“Remind me to reprogram you. I’d like the girl version of you better!”
“I like the way I sound,” Link retorted. She saw movement up ahead.
“Deploying chloroform gas,” chimed in Link. From small holes in her suit, gas poured out. It fanned down the hallway. This should take some down, she thought. She was immune. The humans, they weren’t.
“Wonderful. Are you going to give me a chance to use these weapons?”
“According to my calculations, you don’t have that much time.”
“Yeah yeah…stop reminding me.”
“Stop forgetting,” Link admonished. “Every month you always get so close to the end.”
“Shh…it’s working,” she cut him off. She knew she didn’t have much time. She had to move fast.
In the distance, two bodies fell to the ground with a loud thud. There was a ding and the elevator doors opened. A couple of burly men with suits, dark shades, and guns stepped out. The gas immediately hit them but their size prevented them from passing out. One of them raised his Uzi and started firing. Flashes of fire from the muzzle of the gun lit up the hallway as bullets flew by everywhere, grazing her suit and flying over her head. The HUD showed her the targets moving backwards. She locked on and fired the Glock. The targets ducked for cover but the bullets corrected their path and found the marks. Each one was shot straight in the head.
“Five down; quick perimeter check.”
Link scanned the hall and the room.
“Three at the door, two in the bathroom and one hiding behind the curtains.”
“That’s our mark”
She brought out the Glock, undid the chamber, replaced it with a larger one and dropped a ball into it before firing. The ball ripped through the door, shot three bullets to the right and two to the left, dropping the goons. Suddenly, a flashing red display popped up. Nine hours and fifteen minutes.
“I know,” she whispered. The display disappeared.
Kira entered the room. The man behind the curtain came out firing. He hit her three times, stopping her in her tracks. For a moment her heads up display went fritz but then came back on line. She hardly flinched. The man’s hands trembled. “W-what are you!” he screamed, desperate for anyone to hear him.
She smiled and shut the door behind her. Click.
“Cameras from the casino show ten more approaching,” said Link. Damn.
“I guess I’ll make this quick,” she stated. The man stared at her, clueless as to who she was talking to. Kira tucked the Glock into her leather jacket and let the suit absorb it, allowing Kira to ask for her new weapon of choice. “Double edged blades, Link.”
“We don’t have time, just shoot him,” Link piped in.
“It’s my mark, double edged blades now.”
Link reprogrammed the suit, opening the torso and ejecting the handles of two double edged swords. She reached back and slid out the Tomoyaki Yamashita swords; blades tinted red and polished to reflect the dimmest of light. These were her pride and joy and were impossible to find in the twenty-second century.
“What do you want?” the man’s eyes darted back and forth as his voice waivered. She knew he was trying to get the gun that was tucked safely in the corner drawer of the kitchen. Her timer rang. Nine hours. She rolled her eyes. “Go for it,” she motioned towards the kitchen. “It’s not like I have all day.” He ran to the drawer just as she knew he would. He squeezed off a round, aiming for her heart, but missed by a few inches. She took in a deep breath.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The elevator door rang. “They’re here,” Link’s monotone voice rang in her ears.
Kira lunged over the table in between them and snapped the quivering man’s head with a well-placed kick. He punched her ineffectively, and she batted it away with one of her swords. Her next kick knocked the breath out of his chest. She elbowed his neck and slashed the side of his knee caps, making him fall to the ground.
“What do you want,” he begged.
The light from the nearby lamp revealed the blades. The hilt was well made and the pommel held an emblem of a scorpion. The man’s eyes widened. He feared for his life, and she knew it.
“Robert Jackson Leopaar of Leopaar Industries,” she said. “You have been marked for smuggling slaves from the Iris and cheating out your business partners. Johnson asked me to deliver a message…’I warned you that going against our vote would hurt you.’”
His lips parted and he seemed shocked more by what he heard than her piercing footsteps getting closer and closer. “Johnson…” he whispered. He took another look at her red blades, her red full lips, her dark helmet, and her dark suit. “Who are you?”
She raised the blades. “Red Scorpion and I was hired to kill you!”
It only took a single blow to slice through his neck. The blood gushed out, and the body flinched and fell. He went silent, and she slowly stood up and watched as she’d watched every kill. Blood dripped down her blade and oozed out of the man’s body as she bent over to pick up his head. Kira bagged the head and clipped it to her suit. She sheathed her two blades and let the suit absorb them.
“They’ve arrived at the…” Link was cut off by loud thuds. They made it to the front door just in time.
“Link.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
The doors blew open, and they came running in with guns out, infrared beams dancing all over, and fingers pressed on the trigger. Bullets flew in the air,
piercing anything that was in the way. The lamp shattered. The couch was punctured. Kira stood at the edge of the balcony from the fiftieth floor of Hotel L’Amour.
It was finally time to go get paid. She jumped.
Chapter Two
The suit opened up, and she glided through the polluted air.
“Reveal mask now!” she yelled. The COMP quickly understood and in a split second the sides of her helmet extended and wrapped around her face creating a mask. In less than a minute, she landed into a front tuck and eyed the bustling streets. Her eyed widened and a sudden pain hit her stomach like a lightning bolt.
“Taxi, now!” she wheezed, out of breath. Link tapped into the taxis nearby and took over the wheel.
The selected taxi drove up, and the doors unlocked themselves. Kira quickly got in.
“Where to ma’am?” the Indian driver was obviously confused as to what just happened.
“PDC…and make it fast. I’ll double your pay.”
The driver smiled beneath his air breather. She could tell by his eyes. “Portable Drive Center? Sure thing ma’am.”
Her phone rang. “Yes,” she answered, almost inaudible.
“Do you have it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you on your way?”
She took in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “Do you have the vials?” Her heart rate was slowing down, beating irregularly, and her pulse was weakening with every second. Cold and hot flashes hit her sporadically. She gripped her trembling fingers.
“I do.” She hung up.
“How much time,” she whispered.
After Tomorrow: A CHBB Anthology Page 13
