by Flacco, Jack
The alien explained how all its life it had wanted to become part of the conversion process. It grew up in school indoctrinated with ideas of how human blood component resources benefited their society with growth in science and technology. It had visions of the extraction process where humans simply would die a quiet and peaceful death with the delivery of their components. It spoke of its higher learning sessions with council members and how they explained humans as objects with no real sentient life beyond the pupils of their eyes.
The eventual question arose when Ranger asked what had changed its mind about humanity. Talking about the suffering of humans at the hands of other humans made it press its head hard against the wall. The council didn’t explain the trip to earth would have involved working with other humans. The council also didn’t explain about humanity’s penchant for violence against itself. It talked of a general who enjoyed watching others die by his hands. The alien hated the general—an emotion it didn’t know it had. Ranger asked if it knew the general’s name. Without a doubt, the alien confirmed his suspicions. General Grayson. Ranger peered out the back window to the mountains. He had to get rid of the general. It then said it had thought the conversion process would cause no pain to the recipients of the light. The light being the death ray Ranger had seen emanating from the belly of the saucers during the change.
Ranger asked a lingering question. “What are you doin’ here?”
“I am hiding.” It said.
“Tell me more about General Grayson and the camp.”
* * *
In the corridor where Randy leaned against the wall, Matty gave him a smile. She saw how he strained with his face in his attempt to conceal his real feelings. Words didn’t have to pass between them for them to understand what they were thinking. He searched for her hand as he kept his gaze away from her eyes. When he found it, he gently touched it to feel her warmth transfer to his fingertips. The fake smile evaporated to a sincere upturn of his lips. That’s all she ever wanted.
“One day you’ll remember everything.” She said.
“Maybe I don’t want to remember everything. Maybe that’s the point of not having a memory of the past.”
She left it at that without pursuing it further. No sooner had he said those words that her eyes opened with a fright.
The moans traveled from the front door, through the store, up the stairs and hit their ears. Randy focused on her. He’d seen that look on her face before. He just as soon never wanted to see it again. She sprinted along the hall into the second bedroom where her face and hands landed on the glass facing the street outside.
A crowd of fifty or more of the undead had assembled in the streets. Each had their noses upturned, sniffing the air in pursuit of dinner. They smelled it. They knew it was there. They just needed to find it in the array of deserted buildings.
In a silent dash, Matty raced the length of the hall with Randy not far behind. She burst through the door of the back bedroom. Without having to tell Ranger a thing, he knew something was wrong. She led him to the front-facing bedroom, leaving the alien to wallow in its misery. The crowd had gotten bigger. Ranger peeked outside the window, then pulled everyone to the floor asking them how much ammo they had with them. It didn’t look good. Randy had left his extra clips in the truck, while Matty had enough to get by without worrying. She would need replenishing eventually.
At least a hundred undead stalked the streets, flesh torn from their faces, and their dead stares leading them to nowhere in particular.
Food would have to wait. Ranger and the kids needed to get to the SUV. The organ churners had the vehicle surrounded. How would they get out of there?
The sound of a crash through the window of the store downstairs shook Jon to bury his head into Ranger’s shoulder. The kids all scrunched into Ranger from every side. He didn’t have a problem providing comfort and safety to the kids, but he had other ideas. He remembered the stairs had a door he could shut from the bottom. If he could sneak down the stairs and close the door, they’d have more time to come up with a solution to the problem. Had they had a dozen or so to fight against, Ranger could have taken them all on, but not the hundred he saw in the street.
Downstairs, the undead moaned and dragged through the broken door window into the front of the store. Their noses flared, soaking their nostril cavities with the smell of human. Hunters pressed the floors in a slow purposeful stride. Their heads tossed from side to side as if they knew what their next meal looked like. In truth, though, they gurgled and groaned, and thrashed into the aisles, with clothes too worn to smell anything but unpleasant.
While two zombies stood rocking back and forth in the middle of the frozen food section, where Matty had earlier thrown a duffle bag in the middle of the aisle, a third throat gorger drifted to the back of the store where the butcher used to sell his meats to the public. The eater slipped between the counter and the opening to the stairs. It headed opposite the stairs to the shelves where it could smell blood from the display area where meat once sat ready for purchase. However, the smell of animal blood hadn’t triggered its frenzy. It stood there staring at the empty shelves with its nostrils flaring.
A creak on the staircase behind it pushed the eater to fling its head in a complete one-eighty where it saw Ranger standing there at the last step reaching for the door to the stairs. Without holding back, the zombie shrieked in the air alerting those on the streets it had found food. Then it tore into a sprint to the stairs where the door promptly shut in its face to its screams and wails. It battered the door with a crash.
The horde outside began its ascent on McMally’s General Store, piling into the door of the store. Some toppled on the floor to a second death while others stepped over those fallen. Heads cracked and green spilled all over the aisle. Splatter patterns covered the floor as the throng stampeded to the back of the store where the wailer stood thumping its fists to the door upstairs.
Chapter 20
When they reached the small town of O’Toole, twenty-five miles west of Temple City, Sergeant Baskins turned off his communications system and stopped the jeep. He jumped from the vehicle, walked to the passenger side where Olivia sat and opened her door. He looked at her and pulled his knife from its sheath. The silver blade shined in the late afternoon sun. The sergeant had maintained its luster throughout his career.
Fear had gripped Olivia as she trembled and turned a deathly white. Had she made a mistake trusting the sergeant in her eagerness to end the pain at the hands of his subordinates? She wondered how many people he’d killed with that knife. The longer she stared at it the longer the trembling continued.
To her surprise, Baskins slipped the knife between the woman’s hands and cut the bindings from her. He next opened the door to the backseat and did the same for Abigail. The little girl rubbed her wrists, soothing them of the pain from being bound for such a long period.
Baskins hid the knife in its sheath, and said. “Now, we’re equals.”
* * *
Hopping every other stair to the top, Ranger greeted Matty and Jon. “We have to leave.”
“No kidding.” Matty flicked the safety from her gun and reloaded it.
“Matty, I don’t need your sarcasm. Not now.”
“When then? Tomorrow? I’m having my nails done. How ‘bout a rain check?”
“Has your sister always been this,” Ranger stuttered while looking at Jon, “obstinate?”
“I am not pigheaded.” She said.
“Ranger.” Randy called to him from the bedroom in the back where the alien hadn’t moved from its cowering position.
Ranger and the kids sped into the bedroom, “What is it?”
“I think I know a way out of here.” Randy peered out the second-floor window.
* * *
After having slipped the knife back into its sheath, Baskins stepped away from the vehicle. Olivia immediately left the passenger side and joined Abigail in the back, hugging her. Having missed her daughter,
she wanted to feel the warmth of a human touch again.
“You’re free to go.” He said.
The woman and her daughter traded glances as if they couldn’t believe what was happening. Why would he let them go? Didn’t he want to know where Randy went?
Baskins noticed their puzzled faces and sensed they didn’t believe him. He said, “Look. You’re free. You can go anywhere you want. I’ll be heading to California. Less likely zombies will want to hop aboard a boat with me on the ocean.”
The pair stayed in the jeep not knowing what to do. They didn’t know where to go. If they left the safety of the vehicle, they wouldn’t know where they’d end up. Sure, they could always run into one of the suburban houses and use it as their permanent residence, but somehow they knew if they did that, they’d eventually run out of food or worse, become food for the undead. Abigail held her mother’s hand knowing the best place for them would be in the truck. Would Baskins mind if they tagged along?
“Do you understand what I’m saying to you? You don’t have to be afraid anymore. Whatever you may have thought would happen, will not happen. Don’t you get it? I’m giving you your freedom. Now, go!”
“Why?” Abigail asked.
Baskins threw his hands in the air unable to understand it. They didn’t want to leave the vehicle and they’re asking why. In frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, then rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. “Why?”
“That’s what I asked. Why?”
“There’s no way I can deliver the boy to the general. That’s a given, and I’ve come to the realization that I’m a worthless human being. Happy?”
“Anything else?” Abigail wanted to understand what drove the sergeant to make this life-altering decision and if he was sincere enough.
“What do you want from me? I’m letting you go. Don’t you see? You’re free.”
“You said that.”
Baskins shut his mouth and stared at both of them. A few seconds is all it took him to lean his arm against the open door to the vehicle. “In a little while, everyone will realize that I’ve turned off the communications system in the vehicle. They’ll come after us.”
“Then we’re not really free.”
He didn’t know what to say, Abigail was far more intelligent than he had given her credit.
“How far is California?” Olivia asked, patting the scars on her face with her scarf.
“I don’t know.” He said. “I’m gonna keep driving west until I hit the ocean.”
“I’ve never been to California.”
“If you come with me, there’s no turning back.”
“We never really liked Utah much.”
They all smiled as if they knew it was in their best interest to stay together. They each had something to bring to the relationship, and they knew running, when they had the chance, made the most sense.
Baskins nodded his approval and slammed the door to the vehicle with Olivia and Abigail sitting in the back. He trotted to the driver side, jumped in and started the engine. He checked his rearview mirror and caught a faint smile on Olivia’s face. The army would be looking for him, and he wanted to make sure he had some distance before anyone caught up with him or his passengers. He thought if he could help them, he could redeem his life for the atrocities he’d committed as part of the army.
They drove west never to return to Utah.
* * *
The army of undead poured into the door of McMally’s General Store, filling the aisles. They pushed and shoved each other, throwing shelves and stomping to the back in a mass of cadavers wanting to consume anything that moved. They pounded the backdoor to the stairs, smashed the meat displays and hacked their limbs off from the broken glass. They followed the pack, despite not seeing what they hunted.
From the second floor rear window, Randy pried the pane open to reveal a fire escape to the bottom. Inside the bedroom, Ranger patted him on the back for a job well done. The next problem to solve came with wondering how to get to the SUV without sparking the attention of the horde inside the building, but as Ranger thought about it further, the alien who sat in the corner, not having moved, said, “Leave, I will look after the rotted humans.”
Not knowing what it meant, Ranger followed its instructions. Neither Matty nor Jon said a word, trusting Ranger’s instincts in the matter. Ranger helped the kids through the window and slid down the escape ladder to the ground below.
Before leaving, he said to the alien, “Whatever happens to you, thank you for your help. I hope there are others like you.”
“Leave.” It said as it rose to its feet and walked through the bedroom door to the stairs.
Joining the kids below, Ranger sneaked along the back of the building. Looking around the corner, they headed through the alley to the front. Other than a handful of undead stragglers roaming the streets, the majority of the crowd had piled into the store with the alien making its way to the base of the stairs.
Matty took a firm hold of Ranger’s jacket as she peaked from his side at the stragglers to calculate the distance between the store and the vehicle. Nothing had touched the truck from where Ranger had left it in front of the church. She said, “We can make it.”
“I know we can.” Ranger said, then took off to the SUV.
Randy grabbed Matty’s hand while Jon followed Ranger to the truck.
The stragglers turned their attention to the runners and began their chase. The four hopped in the vehicle and started the engine. One of the undead had smashed against the hood of Ranger’s truck, yet Ranger smirked, shifted the truck into drive and plowed the undead under its wheels, squashing whatever it possessed as a brain all over the road.
Inside the grocer, the alien heard the punches, pounds, thumps, and grinds, but it blinked without trembling. It had a plan, and nothing would dissuade it from carrying out that plan. It opened the door to the bottom of the stairs, and when it saw the eyes of the undead, it pressed a white button implanted in one of its hands.
The button first turned green, then purple. It flashed at a rapid beat. It was no more.
As Ranger and the gang hooted and hollered from Willowbank, an explosion ripped through McMally’s, throwing undead bodies through the storefront window and on to the street. Flames spat from the top floor windows and a fireball consumed everything in its wake. Nothing remained.
Chapter 21
Hundreds of alien ships had parked their assets above the clouds, maintaining a high altitude in order not to pique the interest of those left alive on earth. A language passed between the saucers, indecipherable and unknown. Squiggling through the air, the communications dictated their movement. They sat in the sky over the cities, each waiting for orders.
From within a ship, the corridors were dark except for three blue strips of lights on both sides and one on top, wide enough to provide light to its bowels. Following the lights, they led to a small room with glowing panels. Subdued lighting dominated the room as the sound of the language floated in the distance. One of the panels sparked to life with the sight of a map of Wichita, Kansas. The panel’s array of sensors did not detect any sign of life in the city coming from below the ship’s belly.
The streets were empty. The storefronts stood as if nothing had passed through their doors in months. Dirt had accumulated on the benches. Old newspapers flew in between the alleys and the parks. The street corners sported mailboxes with their doors open, an indication something terrible had happened and whoever had wanted to use the mailbox might have vanished with the rest of the city.
A water fountain, erected long ago for war veterans, flowed in the middle of Sandy Hill Park while squirrels played in the grass next to its cement border. Chipmunks chased one another through the sidewalks. Mice enjoyed their freedom venturing from their holes to scrounge for food in empty kitchens. Restaurants had it worse with cockroaches exploring counters and cupboards. Meals left on diner tables became a popular gathering spot for the garbage-loving insects. W
hatever may have caused the loneliness in the school corridors, dormitories and assembly halls, may have had more to do with the destruction of humanity than anyone knew.
Bandages and syringes littered the floors of hallways at St. Joseph’s Hospital. The rooms lay desolate. Where patients once rested, bed sheets showed their wrinkles. In a bathroom, caught in the act, the faucet spurted water from a time when someone had been washing their hands. Drapes floated in the wind as if freedom had come quickly for those who had climbed the windows not knowing what else to do. Stems of dead flowers sat inside a dry pot, put there months before to color a room, but instead brought dread with its darkened, parched leaves.
Joe’s Auto Body had its lights on while snow played on the television in the corner of the shop. Tools sat on the bench, put there for a job that never made it to completion. The oil pan under one of the cars had overflowed in the middle of a change, and the phone’s handset dangled from the side of the desk.
A light colored car blocked the intersection of Lincoln and Grove Streets, its doors open and groceries rotting in the front passenger seat. Inside, a dog had made it its home as it slept in the rear. Other cars sat parked on the street, abandoned from the outset of whatever had happened. A bicycle lay on the pavement, trampled by a bus. Its frame bent, still stuck under the wheels with dry blood covering it.
From inside the ship’s display, the image of the dry blood flipped to the image of a lake where ducks floated in the water and birds flew overhead. Perhaps the image of blood scared the observers.
A deer grazing in the forest heard a snap in the leaves and ran away. A fox chased after a rabbit at full speed, racing in zigzags after its meal as it trounced from the forest into a clearing next to the lake. The rabbit hopped from the fox’s sight into the bush and the fox followed. The lake fed into a stream. Its life source flowed through the forest gathering speed through a series of bogs and under bridges. The water tossed and pounded as it drew closer to an area filled with vegetation and life. The bugs crawled in the trees, the butterflies floated in the air, and the fish swam with the current to other spawning grounds. The water splashed everywhere as it made its way to a raging river churning in waves. Slamming against the rocks and passing around fallen trees, the river surged to the end where the water dove from an embankment over the falls. The waters crashed on the rocks below, widening from its base into the woods where deer drank from the riverbed. A pack of wolves, under the cover of the sound of waterfall crept past the wooded boundary where it had spotted the deer and with stealth as their friend, crept behind it.