They hustled over, knowing I wouldn’t act like that without damn good reason.
“You’re dressed for the cold? Good. Follow me.”
Before they could even nod, I was back out and headed through the lobby. Jessie and Larry were right behind. I waved a hand at the window my flashlight shined out of.
I stood by the window, as they caught up with me, hastily pulling on clothes. Jessie picked up and shut off my flashlight in a huff.
“What’s this all about, Dante?” she asked.
“Lights.”
“Lights?” Larry echoed.
“Lights,” I confirmed. “I saw people about forty floors down in that building when I looked with the binoculars,” I said as I pointed. They looked along the invisible line extending from my arm down to the rooms in question. We stood, expectantly, waiting for something to happen.
Nothing happened.
“Are you sure, Dante? It looks the same as it has for a week now,” said Jessie. I could hear the shiver in her voice. She wasn’t built for the cold. I heard fabric rustle, and when I turned, Larry had pulled her into a loose embrace.
I looked up at him, and he shrugged with his eyes. I nodded and turned back to the windows. He would do a good job of keeping her warm.
Then a series of flashes through the windows. Unmistakable. We blurted the same word together.
“Gunshots.”
I tried flashing my light one more time, and this time got a clear acknowledgement back. Then the building went dark. We waited another ten minutes, but nothing else happened. Nothing.
Almost as if the universe was waiting for our guards to drop, a bang came from the lobby. I jumped, whirling in place to look at the open doorway.
The door had been wedged open with a computer case. I couldn’t see anything from the angle we stood at. I shot a glance at Larry, and he signaled me forward.
I cautiously approached the lobby, looking around with my flashlight. Once I was at the door, the source of the sound became apparent.
Geno wandered around, seemingly lost. He turned toward me and barely reacted as my light swept over him. Dark stains covered his side.
“Geno!”
I rushed in, with Larry and Jessie following closely. I turned Geno fully toward me, but he wasn’t very responsive. Larry gently shoved me aside to look Geno over.
“Geno, look at me buddy. Jessie, go get some warm water started for him, he’s in shock. Dante, go grab a towel to cover him up. We’ll wait for you in the airlock.”
Jessie and I both ran back to the office. The situation was surreal. Tracy reappeared and a few hours later Geno is somehow covered in blood and in shock.
Jessie immediately went to the kitchen area and started heating water on one of the stoves. I headed to the supply room and looked for towels.
Off to one side was a pile of ‘dirty’ towels. Most had only been used once, but the supply was so massive nobody worried too much about it. I snagged one that was dry and smelled relatively clean.
I looked toward the kitchen area as I walked back to the airlock. Jessie was still working on getting the water heated. I saw her grab a mug and put something in it. Tea, probably.
The air slapped me as I walked through the flaps into the airlock. My eyes stung in the cold air once again and I handed the towel over to Larry, who wrapped it around Geno’s shoulders. They walked past me and waited at the airlock.
I made sure the lobby door was closed, then squeezed around Geno and Larry to the airlock flaps. I held them open as Larry guided Geno through.
“Brandon, lobby duty,” Larry barked. People jumped, because he could really get some volume. Brandon started to get dressed for the cold. I walked over to Jessie’s former office.
“Hey, guys, we need the office for a little bit, can you clear out for now?” There were two others in the supply room—one of whom surprisingly was Tracy. They both nodded and walked through into the main office.
Once Larry and Geno were in the office, I lowered the blinds on the window and shut the door. A minute later Jessie walked in with a plate full of steaming mugs of tea.
18
June 21, 2033
Seattle, Washington, USA
70th floor, Illeni Building
-59°F
1828 Hours
Larry guided Geno to one of the chairs. He still seemed dazed. I shed my gloves, mask, and beanie and put them in various jacket pockets before placing the jacket on a coat rack. Everyone else followed suit.
Larry stripped Geno of his outer layers, careful not to touch the blood. I retrieved a garbage bag from the supply room and put the bloodied clothes inside. Geno sat quietly in his chair, staring into space. He twitched every once in a while.
A moment later, Jessie nudged open the door with one foot. She carried a plate with four steaming mugs on it with both hands.
Once she had set the plate down on the table, she closed the door and handed mugs out. Larry took the first one, and wrapped Geno’s hands around it. Geno started coming around. He sipped at the tea.
I thanked Jessie as I took my mug, then stood toward the back of the office, opposite Jessie. She sat in her chair, across from Geno. Larry remained standing, outside of arm’s reach from Geno, leaning against the book case behind him.
Geno seemed robotic to start, though he began to thaw as he drank the tea.
“Geno, hey. Are you with us?” Jessie asked gently. He shook his head, as if that could clear the fog he was stuck in.
I stayed in the back, watching him. Larry was also relaxed but watchful.
“Geno, c’mon, we need to talk,” Jessie said.
This time he nodded, starting to come round.
“Yeah, what... what do you want?” Geno’s voice was gruff and low. He sounded almost like he was sleep talking.
“What’s the last thing you remember Geno?” Jessie carried on in a soothing tone.
“Remember... yeah, I remember.”
“Yes, Geno, what do you remember?”
He paused, then flinched. Tea sloshed in his mug.
“Dark, all around. So dark.” He began to get agitated, twitching in his neck and arms.
I carefully put my tea down on the windowsill, and watched as Larry put his on the desk. I stood, but signaled Larry to stay relaxed. I stepped a little closer.
“Darkness everywhere. Something in the darkness. Hissing. Talking. In my head.” Larry took a half step and gently removed the tea from Geno’s hand. He was gesticulating wildly when he spoke, spilling tea.
Then Geno stopped. He sat up straight, and looked right at Jessie.
“Jessie? What?” He looked around the office.
“What the fuck am I doing in here?” Panic tinged his voice.
“Easy, Geno. You’re in my office. Do you not remember coming in here?”
“No—no not at all! What the fuck‽”
“Relax. You showed up about ten minutes ago in the lobby. We heard some noise and you were just there, wandering around.”
“No, the last thing I remember is being on watch, coming back from the empty office then... darkness? That doesn’t make sense, I had my flashlight.” I could still hear the panic, but it had lessened, replaced by confusion.
“You didn’t have one when we found you,” said Larry. I could see the concern on his face.
“I had my flashlight and my knife—”
“Knife?” interrupted Jessie. I stepped within arm’s reach of Geno. Neither of them looked at me. It was best to be prepared if anything went awry.
“Yeah, my knife. I grabbed it a few days ago on a trip. It was down in my car.” He patted his low back as he said this. Then his hand closed on a handle I hadn’t seen before.
He drew a massive knife out of a hidden sheath on the back of his belt. The knife had to be twelve inches from tip to handle, slick with a tarry fluid. He looked at it, as did the rest of us.
“Easy buddy—“ started Larry, hands suddenly free. He took a half step toward G
eno.
“What is that?” said Geno, as he reached out with his other hand. Before either of us could stop him, he touched the oily black substance on the knife.
As soon as he touched the fluid, he went completely rigid. I jumped forward and smacked his hand. The knife hit the floor, skittering across the carpet into the wall.
I kicked the knife back toward Jessie’s side of the desk, then stood back, watching Geno carefully.
“Geno, you in there man?”
Suddenly a guttural scream erupted from him, and he leaped at me. I blocked his arms, as Larry lunged forward. His giant arms wrapped around Geno. I grabbed Geno’s arms as he was flailing and gnashing his teeth.
Larry repositioned and put his arm around Geno’s neck. A moment later, Geno went slack. Unconscious.
“Jessie, don’t touch that knife. Whatever that blood or whatever it is just made him freak, right?”
Larry gently let Geno down, putting him into the recovery position. A moment later Geno woke.
“Ow—” he paused to cough. “What the fuck? Why am I on the floor?”
“Geno, do you not remember attacking me?”
“Dante? When the fuck did you get here?”
“Geno, dude, are you okay,” I said with concern.
“My head is fucking killing me.”
Larry pulled Geno up and made him sit in the chair. Then he pulled a pen light out of his pocket and shone the light in Geno’s eyes.
“Hey, watch where you’re pointing that fuckin thing, man. It’s bright!”
“Geno, have you had any painkillers today? Or taken any drugs?”
“Fuck you no, I don’t do drugs,” Geno replied with a snarl.
“Calm down, Geno, you haven’t been exactly calm and collected since you came back,” said Jessie.
“Came back from where? I was just on watch, then I’m in here on the floor. What the fuck is going on?”
“Your pupils are completely dilated. Combined with the aggression, it’s like you’re on coke.”
“No way—I don’t do drugs.”
“Easy, Geno. We think it was something you were exposed to. Do you remember anything from the last hour?”
Geno twitched, “Just the darkness.”
Without any further warning, he attacked Larry. Larry had evidently been waiting for it, because he spun Geno around and put him in a choke hold again.
Larry calmly spoke as Geno went limp again. This time Larry held it for a few seconds longer, before once more putting him in the recovery position on the floor.
“The high aggression, lack of pupil response, high heart rate all lead me to one conclusion. He’s on something. Like a combat cocktail of some kind. I saw that exact behavior in the sandbox.”
“Where would he even get something like that?” asked Jessie.
“No idea. Whatever that substance is, it acts like cocaine and adrenaline in one,” replied Larry.
“We have to make sure nobody touches that stuff.” I said.
“No shit, Dante,” snapped Jessie.
I looked at her. The stress was evidently getting to her.
“Well, what do we do with him until he’s off whatever it is?” I said.
Just then, Geno stirred. He’d been out for a solid thirty seconds this time. He sat up, looking around.
“Why am I on the floor?”
Larry knelt, looking in Geno’s eyes. Then he used his flashlight again.
“Ow, don’t do that fucker!”
“His eyes are back to normal. That’s not how that works.”
“Yeah, my eyes are normal. Can you get out of my face please?”
“What do you remember,” asked Larry.
“Standing watch, then waking up a moment ago. Why am I on the floor?”
“You attacked me.”
“Fuck no I didn’t. That’s suicide. I’ve seen smaller buildings made from brick, and they won’t hit me if I hit them.”
I stifled a chuckle. It was a weird scene all around.
“Wait—I do remember something. I saw lights in the building across the way, and was coming back to grab someone. Then nothing until I woke up with Mr. Brickhouse in my face.”
I thought for a moment. “Well, he seems better, but we should be careful. Let’s keep him in the storage room for now.”
“Woah—why am I being locked up?”
“Like he just said,” started Jessie. “You attacked Larry.”
“No fuckin’ way! That’s suicide, like I said. He could probably put a mack truck into a submission hold!”
“It’s true,” rumbled Larry.
This time I did laugh. Jessie glared at me, but I saw the corner of Larry’s mouth twitch. Bastard.
“Knocking Geno out must have reset his brain or something,” I said.
“Wait—what?”
“Yeah, but why didn’t it work last time,” Jessie asked over Geno’s objection.
“WOAH! I got knocked out?”
“Yeah, Geno. Twice. Stop attacking us and it probably won’t happen again.”
“Us? Who is us,” he asked in confusion.
“You attacked me first, then woke up and attacked Larry.”
“Yeah, I could see attacking you. You’re you know... normal sized.”
“Dude, I’m almost a full foot taller than you,” I griped.
Larry was silently chuckling. I could see his shoulders hitching with suppressed mirth.
“So you believe you would attack me, but not Larry?”
“I’m not suicidal, Dante.”
“Fucking—whatever man. You did.”
Jessie broke in. “Look, we just need to keep this quiet. We definitely don’t need people in a panic because of Geno flipping out. So—Geno, you stay in here. Please. We’ll be in and out to check on you. You’re off of duty for the next day while we make sure you’re ok.”
Geno nodded, cowed by Jessie’s commanding presence.
I sighed, grabbed my tea, and left.
19
June 22, 2033
Seattle, Washington, USA
70th floor, Illeni Building
-59°F
0800 Hours
Larry had left the office shortly after me, carrying the knife. He had taken the sheath as well, and thoroughly washed them both. We discussed a few things, including doubling up on watch duty to ensure nobody was alone.
Orders were quietly handed down to the next expedition crew to bring weapons back from the store. They didn’t disappoint, returning with a wide variety of knives and hand axes, and even managed to secure a couple of firearms with ammo.
Larry carefully and quietly stashed the weapons in the storage room and issued them to watch personnel. He gave me the rest of the day off, though I wasn’t sure why.
I spent it with Linda and Eddie, then crashed as normal. I woke at 0800, as my watch was set. Linda was snuggled against my side, still quietly sleeping.
A day or two back I had asked if she wanted to leave her tent to Eddie and move into mine. She had quietly agreed, blush creeping up her cheeks. I had laughed and pulled her into a fierce hug.
Of course, Eddie had been absolutely over the moon having the tent to himself. He kept saying he was an adult, and we nodded, hiding the occasional laugh in a cough.
We did have to tell him to keep the news to himself, because not many had tents to themselves. I had addressed him as an equal, impressing him all the more. He had agreed, which relieved us. Privacy was always a major concern of mine.
I met up with Larry shortly after breakfast. He looked haggard.
“Hey, Larry. You look tired, man.”
“Up all night watching Geno. He’s okay, best as I can tell. Jessie is watching him with Brandon now.”
I nodded. Brandon was a good choice.
“So what’s the plan for today?”
He grinned at me, a little gleam in his eye, even through the fatigue.
“We make a firing range.”
I had been looking aro
und the room, as was my habit. When he said that, however, my attention zeroed in on him.
“Firing range?”
He nodded.
“You saw that last night’s run brought back some shotguns, and even a few pistols. We’re going to make a firing range a few floors down to prevent the sound from bothering anybody.”
“I’m in. What floor?”
He chuckled. It sounded more like distant thunder than actual laughter.
“I figured. Scouts say ‘65’ is clear of windows and debris. We’ll set up there.”
“Great. Anything else we need?”
“Grab a few targets from the other office. We’ll head down to ‘65’ with a few people. I’m going to get anybody interested certified. Watch personnel get priority.”
I nodded, then made the rounds while he caught a ten minute power nap. Fifteen minutes after our conversation, Larry met our ragtag group in the lobby. We each held a computer case or something similar. He nodded in satisfaction, and led the way.
The door to ‘65’ creaked open. Larry led the way in, flashlight illuminating the space. Every window had been busted out. Most of the furniture had either caught on the window spars or been blown into the streets far below.
A few chairs and cubicle walls were all that remained. The six of us pulled the furniture back in, staging it in an arc around the open space.
Our ‘targets’ were then placed among the furniture. Some were placed on chairs or behind them, on walls or even in the open.
Larry went first, using a handgun. He talked us through safety and gun etiquette, even though most of us were veterans. We rolled our eyes, but let him do his talk. The wind had mostly died by that point, so it wasn’t hard to hear him.
The room was open to the elements, so ice was everywhere. The air was absolutely freezing, forcing us to spend no more time down there than necessary. The strangest part of firing our guns wasn’t the flash, or the whine of bullets arcing into the darkness far beyond the building. Most of us were used to that from our time in the military. It was the perfectly clear echo of the gun firing.
The whole of the situation was surreal—gunfire inside a quiet, dead city. Glass could be heard breaking from hundreds of feet away. Eventually, it became a game to listen for breaking windows elsewhere in the city when a bullet carried too far. Larry looked on disapprovingly, but held his silence. It was another way to break the monotony of a life focused on survival.
Winds of Darkness Page 11
