by Sean Platt
But nothing was happening.
Linc glanced at Desmond, fear in his eyes, then back down to Luca.
While Luca had brought three people back from the brink, never had he brought someone back from death.
Perhaps some miracles were too great for whatever was working through him.
Desmond’s heart turned to lead and he swallowed. The minutes were stretching, and Luca collapsed in tears.
“They’re not answering,” he cried out, and looked up, grief-stricken, “I’m so sorry, Desmond. I can’t.”
Desmond fell to the ground, his world shattered.
Chaos continued to reign outside. Screaming, gunfire, and the sound of monsters. All hell was breaking loose.
But nothing would compare to the hell Desmond would rain upon Brother Rei.
Desmond stood up, and ascended the stairs, taking a gun from Boricio, and walking out into the night of death.
Sixty-Nine
Brent Foster
After nightfall, Ed spotted the aliens, seven of them, leaving the hotel in a pack. They mulled about, looking around the cars, then headed toward the underpass running beneath the highway.
“That all of them?” Brent whispered.
“I think so,” Ed said, fishing a pair of mini binoculars from his tactical jacket, then training them on the group.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Brent asked.
“I thought I saw something different about one of them … oh Jesus.”
“What is it?”
Ed handed him the binoculars. Brent focused on the pack of aliens. One was indeed different, and by different, Ed had meant nearly human in form. Its skin wasn’t like the infected but rather exactly like the aliens’ – dark, wet, and lit from within.
“Is it human? You ever seen anything like that?” Brent asked, handing the binoculars back to Ed.
“I dunno if it’s human. And no, that’s a first, that I’ve seen anyway. It’s like some sort of alien-human hybrid, but it’s a more severe transformation . . . an almost total transformation.”
“Could it be what happens if the infected progress all the way?”
“I don’t think so. The scientists have had infected for long periods of time, studying them, and I’ve not heard of anything like this. Of course, they don’t tell me everything, so who knows?”
“An evolutionary step,” Brent pondered. “How?”
“I don’t even want to say what I’m thinking,” Ed said, slipping his binoculars away as the aliens vanished beneath the highway, and hopefully kept going right on down the road and far from the hotel.
“You’re thinking Black Mountain, aren’t you? Experiments?”
Ed looked at Brent. His grim expression was all the confirmation Brent needed.
“Do you think they’re experimenting on people?” Brent asked.
“If they are still operational, then I have no doubt they would experiment on people, infected and uninfected alike. After all, our own scientists are looking to cure whatever this is, and kill an unknown enemy.”
Brent thought back on all the stories he’d read as a teenager: “scientific” experiments by Nazis, vivisections on humans by Japan’s Unit 731, and even his own government’s radiation, toxins, and disease “research” on unwitting victims. As long as there was an enemy, or underclass to exploit, there would be scientists willing to treat humans as lab rats. A chill ran down Brent’s spine as he thought of the Gina and Ben of this world now being probed by Black Island’s scientists, assuming they were still alive.
He thought of Ben’s parallel, still more human than not, clinging to his infected mother, while she, who was more progressed in her transformation, shunned him. The pain the child must’ve felt soured Brent’s heart as if it were his son.
But it’s not. Stop thinking like that, or you’ll never get back to them.
“Think it’s safe to leave now, or you still want to wait until morning?” Brent asked.
“I think we should get some rest,” Ed said. “I don’t wanna go down there while it’s dark. The good thing is, we can both sleep. Not much chance of them sneaking up on us up here.”
“First, I have to piss,” Brent said, and walked over to the other side of the utility room to take a piss he’d been holding in for far too long.
He was thirsty, and his stomach was growling. The shopping center in the plaza was so close, yet at 12 stories below, so far. He couldn’t wait to hit it in the morning. Assuming they made it through the night.
Brent woke to the sound of distant laughter.
He jolted awake to the blinding morning sun and reached for his pistol. He found it, and turned to see Ed already on his feet, shotgun in hand, inching toward the edge of the roof in an impossibly low crouch to find the source of the sound.
“What is it?” Brent asked.
“Well, lookee here. Seems our little thief came back to the scene of the crime.”
Brent looked down and saw the dirty-looking child walking with a woman with long brown hair, wearing jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket. She was holding a shotgun slung over her shoulder, no doubt one of theirs. They were checking car handles, and were five cars away from Ed’s van.
“No, no, no,” Ed said, racing to the hatch. “I’ll be damned if they take our ride, too.”
Brent followed, woefully behind, as Ed raced down the stairs like a man possessed.
Ed reached the shattered front doors just as Brent was stepping into the lobby. Ed raced out, gun aimed, “Get the hell away from there!”
Shit, Brent thought, pushing himself to catch up. When he did, he was caught in a standoff with everyone, except himself, aiming guns at one another. Brent raised his pistol and aimed at the kid since Ed had his shotgun aimed at the woman. He hoped he wouldn’t have to shoot a child, even if he was a rotten thief.
“We want our weapons back,” Ed demanded.
“What weapons?” the woman said.
“To start with, the one you’re holding, and then the rest of the bag the brat stole from us.”
“I’m not a brat!” squealed the kid in a bratty voice.
“They’re not yours,” the woman said, her eyes hidden behind shades, which made Brent think of Sarah Connor, hunting terminators. “You looted ‘em, same as anyone. Everything is fair game, now. Go find another gun shop.”
“They’re ours,” Ed said sharply. “We’re with the government. Those are government-issued weapons and ammunition, and your taking them is a federal crime. Believe me when I say you don’t want to cross the government now, unless you want to wind up dead or in a cell. And the courts are a bit backed up, what with the lack of judges and juries these days.”
The woman stared, “Who are you with?”
“Homeland Security, and I’m going to give you five seconds to put down your weapons, or we’ll shoot you both.”
“How do I know . . . ” the woman began to ask, but her voice was severed by Ed.
“Five.”
“Wait; how do I know you’re who you say you are? You got a badge or something?”
“Four.”
The child looked nervous and blinked, looking at the woman, “What do we do?”
“Three.”
“Wait,” the woman said again, “I want . . . ”
“Two,” Ed said, “Put the fucking guns down now!”
The woman lowered her gun and placed it on the ground, and the kid followed.
“Get the guns,” Ed instructed Brent. “Now tell us where the rest are.”
“They’re in the grocery store over there, where we’ve been hiding out,” the woman said. “I’m sorry; we didn’t mean to take your stuff.”
As Brent grabbed the weapons, Ed squeezed off a shot at the kid.
The bullet sailed just past him, but caused him to scream.
“Next time you steal from me, I won’t miss.” Ed said.
“Hey!” the woman yelled, “I said we’re sorry! You don’t have to be such a dick!”
Ed ignored her, and said, “Lead us to our weapons, or you’ll see just how big a dick I can be.”
The woman took off her glasses, and glared at Ed with her fierce, blue eyes. He pointed with his gun, gesturing for her to start walking in front of them. She looked young, maybe in her mid-20s. The kid, who looked around 12, was probably a brother or someone she teamed up with on the road.
As they walked to the store, the woman asked, “So, what’s your name, Mr. Homeland Security?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ed said. “Keep walking.”
“Is he always this grumpy?” the woman asked, turning and grinning at Brent.
Brent wanted to say nothing, to stay as serious as Ed was, but the mischievous part of him hadn’t been let out in a while. Plus, Ed did gross him out with all that talk of eating a pregnant spider.
“Yeah, he used to work at the DMV before becoming an agent. He’s a teddy bear when you get to know him, though.”
“No, I’m not,” Ed said, not even looking at Brent, keeping his eyes, and gun, trained on the woman and child in front of them.
“Aw, did someone not get enough love as a child?” the woman asked. “My name is Lisa, and this is Billy. It’s a pleasure meeting you both.”
She stopped and offered her hand to shake.
Ed pointed with the gun, “Keep walking.”
Ed turned to Brent, “She a relative of yours? She sure is chatty.”
Brent laughed, hoping Ed would return the laugh, but he stayed corporate.
“So, you’re with the government. Can you tell us what the hell happened? Where everyone went? What the fuck these monsters are?”
Brent wanted to say they’re not monsters, but aliens, but kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure what information was still classified. There was no disguising the fact that these things were running rampant, but what they were, that was still top secret shit, perhaps.
“That’s classified information,” Ed said in his gruffest voice.
“Ah, so it was you all that made the world go poof? I figured as much.”
Ed didn’t respond.
When they neared the grocery store, the woman pointed inside and said, “Your stuff is in there, inside the manager’s office. You think you can leave us something?”
“Like your boy left us? No. Besides, as you said, there’s plenty of stores you can find what you need.”
“You’re the government; you’re supposed to help us!” Lisa said, turning back and casting an exaggerated angry look at Ed. Though she was likely serious, Brent couldn’t help but notice how good she was at banter. She was probably a rather successful person before Oct. 15, like one of the power networkers he used to run into on the job — someone who could get anything, meet anyone, or find out anything through the power of their words alone. The opposite of Ed, who couldn’t persuade without a weapon or the threat of violence.
“Where are you two going?” Lisa asked. “Are there others out there? Other than the people who killed our friend the other night, and chased us here?”
“Yes, there’s others,” Ed said, surprising Brent with his candor. “At a place called Black Island, up by New York City.”
“Never heard of it,” Lisa said.
“Most haven’t,” Ed said.
“So, can you take us back there? Is it safe?”
“Yeah, it’s safe, but we’re not headed back for some time.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re looking for someone,” Ed said.
“Who? Wait, lemme guess . . . Classified?” Lisa said as she pulled the double mechanical doors of the grocery store open, and slid inside. The kid was right behind her.
“That depends, do you know anyone named Boricio?” Ed said, as they followed the duo into the grocery store.
The minute they breached the doorway, rifles were pressed into their heads, held by men in black gear similar to their own.
Lisa turned and smiled.
“Wow, Black Island has approximately shit on Black Mountain Guardsmen.”
Seventy
Luca Harding
At the top of the stairs, Luca looked at Boricio. “Thank you,” he said.
“You can give Boricio the Blue Ribbon later, and maybe teach me the magic mind bayou voodoo you do so well. Right now, it’s time to keep the balls swinging in their sacks and kill us some fuckers.”
Luca didn’t know what happened, what he’d done to Boricio, or if he’d done anything at all. Nor did he know what to make of the scene he saw or the lightning that struck him and the three versions of Boricio. He wondered if that jolt had something to do with his inability to bring Mary or Paola back. Maybe his healing powers were gone.
Or maybe he just couldn’t bring people back once they were dead.
His heart was broken, even more so for Desmond, but they had no time to nurse their wounds now. The Sanctuary had become a battleground, as the men, women, and children fought the demons with guns, shovels, and anything they could find.
The courtyard was bathed in the orange glow of the children’s house, which had caught fire. Corpses, at least a dozen humans and maybe nine of the demons, lay on the ground. Luca saw the mean girl from his class, Tammy, lying on the ground in front of the barn, choking up blood. One of the monsters came out of the darkness, and landed on her, it was on all fours like a beast. It grabbed both her arms and ripped them from their sockets, then ran off with the souvenirs. Tammy’s dead eyes stared at the churning clouds in the night sky above as blood spurted out of where her arms had been, adding more red to the snow.
Despite all she had done, Luca wanted to run to her, and try to save her.
Then he remembered Rebecca, and couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten about her in all that had happened. His eyes found the box Rebecca had been in, turned over on its side in the middle of the courtyard, open and empty.
Oh God, she’s dead, too.
He scanned the chaos, searching for her. Maybe she’d made it into one of the houses, where he could hear gunshots as the people tried to fight off the monsters.
Luca searched the corpses, praying not to find hers.
Boricio raced off, firing shots at one of the creatures and then another.
Luca turned, confused, overwhelmed by the cacophony of noises both external and the flood of frightened thoughts all around him. These thoughts were even louder and more powerful than the others, though, as he could also feel the fear, and pain of the people of The Sanctuary as they fought for their lives.
Luca dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, oblivious to the danger of doing so, as he reached out into the madness to search for Rebecca’s thoughts. People and monsters both raced past and bumped against him. He tried to ignore them until he heard her.
“Luca are you out there? I’m so scared. Please . . . ”
Then something slammed into Luca, knocking him back. He opened his eyes to see one of the demons on top of him.
It looked down, eyes gleaming, mouth open, rows of jagged teeth ready to bite.
An explosion of thunder, and the monster’s head erupted in black goo.
Boricio appeared, firing a second shot, which thrust the rest of the monster to the ground.
Boricio yanked Luca off the ground. “Not a good time to be napping, kid!”
Luca was stunned and disoriented. The world was speeding by in a blur, and he just wanted to retreat. Close his eyes and go back home.
But he had to find Rebecca. Though he couldn’t close his eyes and concentrate, he still tried to listen for Rebecca’s voice again.
Boricio fired at another monster, dropping it in two shots, then turned to Luca.
“Looking for Strawberry Shortcake, kid? Follow me and we’ll find her together.” Boricio handed Luca a pistol, then said, “I imagine you’ve got dick of an idea how to use that, right?”
“I’ve never used a gun.”
“Ever play with toy guns in the backyard?”
Luca nodded.
Boricio held his gun in the air and aimed. “It’s exactly the same as toy guns. Point at what you wanna kill, then pull the trigger till it’s dead. If you don’t think, it goes faster. Now come on.”
Boricio raced through the courtyard, gun in the lead. Luca followed.
It was easy to feel safe and strong behind Boricio. He seemed fearless, even when there were monsters running toward him. He never flinched, just raised his gun, aimed, if he had time, then pulled the trigger until the monsters stopped moving. Once, when one of the monsters was faster than Boricio and he couldn’t get his gun raised in time, he used his fists instead.
Luca cringed at the sounds of Boricio’s flesh sloshing into the monster’s slippery black skin. The creature cried like a swung cat, probably shocked by Boricio’s lethal attack. Boricio spun himself behind the monster, then kicked it from the back. When the creature landed on the ground, Boricio aimed just above its slit for a nose, pulled the trigger, then laughed. “Will you look at that gallon of demon goo! You could tar the fucking highway with that shit!”
Boricio led them through the courtyard, through the madness, in search of Rebecca.
The roar of gunfire started to dim, as the crowd began to dissipate from between the houses. The hangar was now the busiest part of The Sanctuary, as members of the congregation abandoned their faith, piled into cars, and floored pedals toward escape. A hundred feet or so from the hangar, Luca saw one of the brothers dragging Rebecca behind him, as she kicked and screamed and thrashed in the dirt. She saw Luca and cried for help.
Luca broke into a run.
The Brother, whom Luca didn’t recognize, saw Luca and turned and fired a shot, but it whizzed right by. Luca didn’t dare fire his gun for fear of hitting Rebecca. Instead, he raced at the man, who let go of Rebecca and steadied his aim at Luca, holding his pistol with both hands.
Luca raced ahead, staring right down the chamber of the man’s loaded gun.
Is this how I’ll die? Is this what Will wouldn’t tell me?
He had to get to Rebecca. He didn’t care about the threat. Nor did he need to.
