by Maxey, Phil
“Somewhere down there.”
They walked forward, taking notice of signs which mentioned staff rooms, medical facilities, and exits to other wings, finally arriving at another open gate. It was made up of iron bars and was hanging off its hinges.
“Vamps have definitely come through here,” said Carla.
A noise echoed in the distance. Carla flicked her light in the same direction. “That’s probably Dalton, right?”
Joel took two steps forward when a horn boomed out behind them. They both spun around then looked back into the corridor.
The horn filled the air once again.
“Go back and see what’s going on, I’ll find Dalton,” said Joel.
Carla nodded and ran off.
Joel looked ahead, back into the darkness as the light from Carla’s flashlight dissolved behind him.
He jogged forward, looking through small barred doors for any sign of movement. A sound of growling and scuffling came from behind another door just ahead. He ran to it, and without stopping flung it open.
Vamps.
He had emerged onto one of the cellblocks. Each side was two stories high, full of cells, and at the bottom, were what appeared hundreds of vamps, all dressed in prisoners clothing. Some of them were also now being flung through the air like rag dolls.
Dalton had taken his wolf form, but despite his desperate attempts to fight off the legions of claws and fangs that were flailing at him, was being swamped by their number.
Joel’s eyes turned dark with rage, and he sprang forward, tearing across the figures in the gloom, until he made it to the beast-man that was now cowered on the ground. Joel held out his hand. “Come on!”
The thing Dalton had become snarled then sniffed and uneasily got to its clawed feet with the help of Joel. He batted away other vamps as they tried to get close, and they both staggered back to the door, falling through the opening, then Joel slammed it shut as the things on the other side barreled into it. His eyes returned to normal just as Dalton shrunk back to his usual human size, but the former wolf-man was bleeding from numerous slices in his legs and arms.
As Joel took Dalton’s arm and placed it across his shoulder, he suddenly became aware of the other sounds of fury that were now coming from all directions.
The horn and gunfire was just audible in the distance.
“We gotta get back, can you move fast?”
Dalton nodded.
They half walked half jogged down the corridor, towards the pickup’s headlights, and the sound of fighting.
Vamps burst through the small door from the outside and scampered over the discarded gates towards them.
Dalton tried standing upright, but then grimaced. “Just leave me and take care of them…”
He leaned up against the wall while Joel grabbed a long, jagged piece of gate, and impaled the first vamp then pulled the spear out and decapitated the next monster.
A flicker of light swept across the entrance, along with the clatter of gun fire and vamps grunting.
Carla appeared in the doorway. “Come on, we have to go!” she shouted.
Joel ran back, heaved the huge frame of Dalton across his shoulders, and ran forward along the corridor, and out into the night.
Kizzy was fighting off vamps swinging multiple fists while Evan and Marina fired from M4s and used the butts when the bloodlusting creatures got too close.
The pickup was sitting with its engine idling, uncoupled from the horse trailer.
Joel lowered Dalton down to the back of the pickup. The big man crawled onto the bed at the back.
“We can’t leave the weapons!” shouted Joel at Carla who was still firing as vamps ran at them.
“Got—” she let forth a volley of bullets. “—No choice! Come on!” she shouted to the others. They ran and jumped on the back, while she jumped into the driver’s seat and Joel climbed in next to her. Slamming her foot down on the gas, the pickup jolted forward. Dalton grunted while the others held on best they could and tried to hit the creatures that were running across the fields towards them.
Soon they were back on the road and leaving their attackers behind.
Carla briefly looked across to the blood on Joel’s hands. “That yours or Dalton’s.”
“Not mine…” He looked down shaking his head. “Fuck!”
Carla looked at him. “What?”
“We stole the weapons just to lose them!”
“We’ll get them back just gotta wait until daybreak. Until then, we get the rest and store them somewhere else. Plan stays the same… shit.”
They both looked at the array of headlights that was streaming from just beyond the electric fence.
Carla slowed to a stop. “What do you want me to do? I can turn around and get us out of here.”
Joel shook his head. “Drive us to the fence.”
A few moments later she stopped near where they left the camp almost an hour before.
Flashlights now joined the vehicle lights pointing at them as she and Joel got out and walked towards the fence.
“Hold up there!” shouted a voice.
“I’m Joel Garret!”
Behind the glare someone hurriedly got out of a pickup and stormed across the sodden ground to the opposite side of the fence. Joel could see it was Holland, and he was holding an M4. He raised it towards him.
“Where’re my weapons!” the older man shouted.
“At the prison…” said Joel.
Two other men walked to Holland’s side.
Even in the gloom Joel could see Holland’s face first become confused then quickly melt into anger. The barrel of the gun wavered then steadied, pointing at Joel’s head once again. “What the fuck are they doing there?!”
“We, umm, wanted to persuade you that the prison was the right place to go to…”
Holland’s face hardened then he swung around in frustration. He turned back towards those on the other side of the fence. The gun was now at his side. “And now you know why I said the prison was no good, right? Now you have lost us a good amount of our hardware, you realize? Tell me you get what a stupid idea that was?”
“Umm… we didn’t know…”
“Nothing’s different—” said Carla.
Holland’s face scrunched up once more. “What?”
“I told you we couldn’t trust them!” said Boyd, holding his own weapon.
Holland ignored him.
“The prison is almost impenetrable. If we can—”
“No, what you’re going to do, girly, is get back in that pickup of yours, and go back and get my weapons. Then you’re going to bring them into the camp then turn around and get the fuck out. And if I see any of you again, I’m going to kill all of you.”
Joel heard Art’s sigh from yards away. The older man leaned into Holland and whispered something into his ear. Holland looked at Art in surprise then frowned. Both men then walked away, back into the darkness while Boyd held his gun and grinned.
Joel could hear the conversation between Art and Holland despite their attempts to keep their voices hushed. After a few moments Holland stood, shaking his head, then turned and returned to the fence.
“How many vamps are at the prison?”
“Hundreds, but we killed a good many of them on our way out,” said Joel. The first part was a lie, he thought there must have been closer to a thousand locked in the hallways and cells. But the prison was their only chance.
“And you think you can clear them all out?”
Carla nodded. “With some help from the rest of my people and some of yours, yeah, we can do it.”
Holland was shaking his head again. He looked back at Art who was standing nearby. The older man nodded.
*****
Amos stared at the wall of his hotel room. Despite most of the inhabitants being asleep, there were still enough awake to keep him in the same state. Their thoughts easily penetrating the striped orange wallpaper which was plastered across the walls around him.
Whe
n the scourge hit ‘Fog City’ his parents were away in the Far East on a second honeymoon. He had been given the chance of going with them, but the chance of getting free rein of their apartment which looked out over the bay was one he couldn’t pass up. He had it all planned out, two weeks of playing online games in his underwear coupled with, if he was lucky, a date or two. After hiding all of his parents pictures, no unsuspecting girl would know the five bedroom place wasn’t his. He was definitely going to lose his virginity this time.
Then the world ended.
The last he heard from his parents was they were going to catch a plane back to the states, but the airports were jammed, so it might take them longer than expected.
After a month, he knew they weren’t coming back.
He had heard the screams from the adjoining apartments and watched what looked like crazy people running around the streets seven floors below. All of which meant that it was only at the point that he started to contemplate eating the houseplants, that he slid the locks back on the door and ventured outside.
He made it as far as the lobby when he ran into a vamp. He spotted it before it saw him, and, at first, he thought it was some poor soul with deformed features, but then he saw the gloss of blood across its claws and jaw and knew this was something completely different. Unfortunately, he was so transfixed by the monster from nightmares that he hadn’t heard its friend creeping up behind him. It tore across his back, pushing him forward, back into the elevator which automatically closed and started rising.
He staggered back to his apartment, closing the door behind him then examined the wound. It wasn’t as bad as it felt, and it felt bad. Maybe a few inches long, not that deep.
He decided he would give it another day then instead of going out of the building he would check out the apartments next to his and on the other floors if needed.
The following day he couldn’t get out of bed. He was burning up, and his joints felt as if he had ran the San Francisco marathon.
Great time to get the flu, he thought.
He didn’t realize it at the time, but that night he changed. He woke up the next morning more hungrier than he had ever felt in his life. He didn’t care about what could lie around each dark corner. He threw his clothes back on, and ran out into the hallway.
The first apartment he found with an open door, he also found a body. A middle-aged woman. Her neck torn open. At first, the sight almost made him retch, but instead of moving past the unfortunate woman to investigate what food they had, he found he couldn’t take his eyes from her neck. He then found he enjoyed how her remaining blood tasted. And that’s when he realized the scourge was no normal virus, and that he was now something different.
It wasn’t until a week later that he discovered he also wasn’t like other vamps. He had control of his faculties. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine like the others that searched the streets at night for prey. And more than that, he could hear their thoughts. If that’s what you would call them. Mostly, it was scenes of blood and gore played on an infinite loop which only seemed to slow when the creatures were feasting.
That was also how he avoided them and honed in on what humans were left. He preyed on the old, those that were going to fall victim to the monsters anyway. He saw it as being merciful.
On the start of the third month he felt as if the city was his. Nothing could get near him, and when they could, he had a way of turning their own rage against them which meant the monsters tore each other apart rather than him.
He knew Copeland’s mercs were near the apartment complex. Heard their plans and, in his ignorance, thought he could go with them and avoid being their hostage by knowing what they wanted before they did. He would convince them of how useful he could be to them. They would give him a job, maybe even see him as an equal.
A day later, he was in a cell being kept like a lab animal. He could hear the thoughts around him, but could do nothing about it. Every time he tried to project feelings out to those that were keeping him captured they would shock him. That grew boring real quick.
He sat up from the bed, and slid his hand through his hair.
Need a haircut.
His mind drifted to Kizzy. He liked her, but she wasn’t exactly stable, and his stepfather always told him, ‘never date crazy.’
But maybe ‘crazy’ was exactly what was right for the new world…
Why you thinking about sex? Copeland’s going to kill all of us! Need to prepare.
His inner voice had a point.
He got to his feet, put his clothes on, and walked out into the hallway. He didn’t need his extra abilities to pickup who was still awake for muffled noises came from the floors below.
He was soon in the lobby. He expected to see the Alkrons still awake, but instead it was the three scientists, and an older man called ‘Bill’ locked in a debate over something called the ‘tablet.’
“We have to expose him to the device again. Maybe it knows about Copeland and has a plan for us to follow!” said Max.
“We don’t know what the tablet is. We just know a few things it can do, and what it has shown Joel. Maybe it’s working against us? How would we know?” said Bill.
They sat in silence thinking words but not speaking them.
“He wanted to use the tablet to activate the chambers,” said Amos at the back of the room.
They all turned to look at him.
“What was that?” said Max.
“Come closer, young man,” said Bill.
Amos walked across the room and sat on one of the nearby chairs. “Copeland, I saw into his mind when I was with him. He was always thinking about these five coffin-looking things. He thought of them as chambers but—”
Josh looked at Max. “The sarcophagi? Could Copeland have discovered them?”
Amos answered. “Err… yeah, I guess you could call them that. Copeland wanted to open them, but he couldn’t. He thought the tablet would show him how, but he could never get the thing to do anything. That kind of annoyed him…”
Those in front of him looked shocked.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Bill looked at him. “Was there anything else you saw inside the creature’s head. About the tablet, or the umm… chambers?”
Amos shook his head. “When I was with him, his thoughts were mostly about those sarcophagi. Sometimes he would think about—” Amos smiled to himself. “Being some kind of king or something… He’s insane.”
Rachel looked at the others. “If Copeland has the sarcophagi—”
“I think we know they must be more than mere coffins by now, Rachel,” said Max.
“Yes, of course. But if he has them then why was the tablet showing Joel them?”
“Maybe Joel is needed to open them?” said Josh.
Bill shook his head. “The device showed Joel the battle and the aftermath. I think it’s the opposite, I think the tablet is trying to tell us we need to keep the sarcophagi closed.”
“How the hell are we going to do that?” said Max. “He already has them.”
Rachel looked at those around her. “He doesn’t have the tablet.”
“Or Joel…” said Bill.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Carla opened the door to the hut she and her soldiers had been placed in the day before. Five of the seven were still asleep, but Bishop was reading and Keller walked out of the small bathroom area at the end, his face covered in shaving cream.
“Where you been?” he said.
Carla walked inside, closing the door loudly enough to start to wake the others.
“Is the LT back,” said a younger man, trying to disappear under his single sheet.
“She’s back,” said Bishop, folding the corner of her book then placing it on the bed.
“Everyone wake your asses up, we need to talk,” said Carla.
Keller reappeared, his face now smooth and foam free. “We going into the main camp?”
A dark-haired woman who was looki
ng out of the side window noticed movement in the distance. “Hey, there’s a number of armed men out there. They’re looking over here.” She looked back at Carla. “What’s going on?”
The rest of the soldiers sat up in their beds.
“We are being allowed into the main camp—”
The younger man smiled pulling his sheet to one side then stood up, only in his underwear. “Finally.”
Others smiled and started to get out of their beds as well. Keller remained fixed to the spot though, still looking at Carla.
“But there’s something important you all need to know…”
They all stopped and looked at her.
“We don’t work for the Copeland Corporation anymore.”
A number of confused expressions washed across the faces inside the hut.
Keller’s though did not change. “I didn’t think we had any choice in whether we worked for them or not. Why the change of heart?”
During the remaining hours of night, since they came back into the camp, Carla had been planning on what she would say to her people, the men and women she had worked with over the past few months. By the time she opened the hut door, she still didn’t have any idea of what combination of words were going to work.
“Copeland’s a monster,” she blurted out.
Most inside the hut looked at each other as if she had just spoken a foreign language.
“We know what he is, Antos, but that didn’t stop us from helping him before. He pays the bills, and we don’t get eaten by all the other monsters out there,” said Keller.
“Each of you have a choice. You can either come with me, and we help the people in this town stay alive, or you can leave…”
Looks of unease were exchanged between a few.
Keller walked forward along the central aisle in front of the beds. “Leaving aside the fact that this whole place is due to be either taken over or removed from the map by the corporation, what’s so great about it? It’s a forgotten truck stop in the middle of a marsh. Why these people? How they any different from those in Jackson? Or any other holes that humans have hid inside of?”
The point raised by Carla’s second-in-command was what she had spent most of the previous few hours wrestling with. She looked directly at Keller. “You’re right, this place is not that much different than the other places. If anything, this place is harder to defend. When I first worked for Copeland, I thought maybe his way was what was needed. People had to be made to work together, and he could control the things out there—” she pointed into the distance. “—I didn’t see any other options. If we… if all of us were going to survive. But then we discovered that not all the infected were crazy killing machines, that some of them were not that different to us—” she looked around the others. “And that those other Alkrons, they are more human then monster.”
