Caldera 8: Simon Sez

by Stallcup, Heath

  She nodded. “I can’t help but wonder…”

  “About?”

  “About what I’m doing.” She faced him. “What we’re doing.”

  “I thought we had already settled the matter.”

  She shook her head. “Considering all the people who have been lost while we looked for a cure…” She sat up straighter in her seat and squared her shoulders. “And I don’t mean the general populace, either. I mean the people who were actively looking for the cure.”

  Broussard nodded. “I believe what you are experiencing might be called ‘survivor’s guilt.’”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not that.” She inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly, buying time to gather her thoughts. “I’m wondering if we are dishonoring their sacrifices by running.”

  Broussard slowly shook his head. “We found a working cure.” He rubbed at his neck. “Once it’s had a chance to spread, what’s left of Humanity will be able to start rebuilding.”

  She turned and raised a brow at him. “You mean the five or ten percent of the original population that didn’t starve to death already?” She paused and gave him a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so…”

  “Hopeless?” He chuckled. “Trust me, I know what the odds are. But we have to keep the faith that Humanity will pull through this.”

  She turned and stared out at the bleak landscape. Line after line of empty buildings and abandoned vehicles painted a picture that she feared was mankind’s future: A whole lot of nothing.

  Simon staggered through the streets, his shotgun braced over his shoulder and the bottle of whiskey dangling from his free hand. He found it harder and harder to breathe and he was squinting from the brightness.

  Fuck me. The light is killing my head.

  He quickly crossed to one side of the street and found a convenience store and pushed the door open. His eyes immediately adjusted to the dim within, and he listened for any threats. Satisfied that it was safe, he made his way toward the counter.

  Glancing to the side of the register, he saw the small display of knockoff sunglasses. He pulled a pair of aviators and slipped them on. Even in the darkness of the shop, the tint gave him almost immediate relief.

  He sighed heavily and lifted the liquor bottle to his lips, pausing for a moment before slowly lowering it. He glanced behind the counter and saw what he was looking for. He couldn’t remember what it was called, but he knew it like the back of his hand.

  He tried to reach across the counter; it took him a moment to realize that his attempts were futile. He walked around to the end and entered the little area where the shopkeeper would have spent the majority of his time.

  He snatched the bottle of acetaminophen from the shelf and ripped the flimsy cardboard box open. He fumbled with the plastic bottle a few moments then just bit the cap off. He jammed his finger past the foil tamper seal and pulled the poly cotton out, tilted the bottle back, and dumped a half dozen tablets into his mouth.

  Without thinking, he began to chew them as his eyes searched for something that he rarely sought.

  Water.

  Simon found a gallon jug with a picture of a baby on it. He tore the plastic cap off and tilted the jug back, drinking nearly half of it before he dropped the container to the floor. He spun again, slowly taking in what little was left on the shelves.

  He glanced down the aisle and saw the door to the tiny storeroom. He quickly snatched his bottle of liquor from the counter and marched to the rear of the building. He kicked open the door and leveled the shotgun into the inky blackness.

  He was surprised that, even with the aviators on, he could see. He quickly rummaged through the nearly bare shelves and his boot kicked something on the floor. He bent low, pulled a plastic container from beneath the metal shelf, and lifted it. His mind couldn’t really make out the letters on the front, but he knew what he held.

  He peeled the plastic cover off and pulled out a familiar snack, sighing as he shoved the chunk of dried meat into his mouth and began to chew.

  Jerky! This is called…jerky.

  Simon sat on the cool concrete floor of the store and savored the flavorful meat. He lifted the liquor bottle and hesitated. He stared at the contents and knew that this wasn’t what he really wanted.

  Not really.

  He slowly came to his feet and made his way back out to the shop. He grabbed another bottle of the baby juice from the lower shelf and pulled the cap off. The cool sweetness of the water seemed to saturate his body as he swallowed.

  Simon lowered the jug and continued to chew the meat in his mouth. He stared out of the large windows of the storefront and could just make out the occasional Rager darting from shadow to shadow.

  He stepped closer and watched as they all headed to the west.

  Tucking the plastic container of jerky under his arm, he edged closer to the front, the light beginning to hurt his eyes. He crept closer; his gaze followed the lone figures sprinting furtively between cover until they all entered a large brick building.

  Simon swallowed the mouthful of jerky and leaned out of the door of the store. He looked up the block and studied the structure.

  Hotel.

  He didn’t know where the word came from, but he was certain that was what the building was. He couldn’t focus on the letters well enough to read them, but that didn’t matter. Somehow, he knew what the building was used for.

  Absently he reached into the jerky container and pulled another piece out. He slipped it into his mouth as he watched more of the pale creatures dart between buildings, all making their way toward the hotel.

  He smirked and lifted the gallon jug of baby juice. He took a long pull from it as a rudimentary thought took root in his dark and evil mind.

  Idiots. He continued chewing as a smile crossed his lips. Useful idiots. Just what I need.

  Chapter 4

  Roger paused in the hallway and stared at the activity center some parents had created for the smaller children. Trevor hovered over Patricia as she cautiously played with the smaller kids. Two mothers stood by anxiously, watching her every move.

  Roger glanced around for a moment, half expecting Hatcher to storm out and order the pair from the grounds. It took him a moment to remember that Hatcher was finally sleeping. He considered calling for Candy, but he had ordered her to bed also.

  Actually, he’d strongly suggested that she rest, since ordering Candy to do anything was a moot point. She begrudgingly agreed to lay down and ‘take a quick nap’ but only if he promised to keep an eagle eye on the day to day problems.

  Roger inhaled deeply and stepped into the activity center. He gave the nervous mothers a quick nod then turned toward Trevor. “Hey.”

  Trevor gave a return nod, his attention never wavering from Patricia. “Sup?”

  Roger settled in next to him and leaned closer, his voice low. “Hatcher okay this?”

  Trevor shrugged. “Last I knew, I was ordered inside and told to lock the door until the threat was passed.” He glanced at Roger and gave him a depressed smile. “We were coming out when she saw the kids rushing in here and…” He sighed deeply and waved toward her. “I’d never seen her face light up so much. She chased them in here, fell to her knees and started playing.”

  Roger swallowed hard and glanced to the two mothers, visibly relaxing, if only slightly. “How’s your morning so far?”

  The taller mother just gave him a polite nod but the shorter one broke into a smile. “I’ll say it if she won’t…I’m shocked.” She glanced to Patricia, who seemed oblivious to the conversation. “I never thought I’d see an infected person who wasn’t…”

  “Crazy?” Trevor finished for her.

  She shook her head slightly, her smile widening. “Aggressive.” She leaned down and tucked a loose strand of hair out of Patricia’s eyes. “She’s actually very gentle with the smaller kids.”

  Patricia looked up at the woman and smiled. Trevor felt something well up
inside that he couldn’t put into words. He hunkered next to Patricia and tried to get her attention. “You’re doing good, sweetheart.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and she clutched a plastic doll to her chest. She rose to her feet and wrapped her arms around Trevor’s neck. He pulled her close and lifted her from the ground. “This has all been a bit exciting for her.” He leaned back and studied her little face. “I think maybe she needs a nap.”

  Roger slowly nodded. “Be careful out there. We haven’t spotted any stragglers, but you never know.”

  Trevor hesitated then gave him a cautious look. “I was thinking of laying her down in the room that Hatcher put us in.” He glanced at the two mothers standing across from him. “If there aren’t any objections.”

  The two women glanced at each other, then shook their heads in unison. “I think that would be okay.”

  Roger appeared hesitant but he slowly nodded. “Just…you know.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her. I promise.” Trevor pulled her closer then turned for the hallway.

  Roger waited until he was certain they were out of earshot then turned to the two women. “Honest opinions?”

  The taller woman cleared her throat and glanced down the hall. “Honestly, I was scared to death…”

  “But?”

  She shrugged slowly. “If you didn’t know she was infected, you’d think she was just another child.”

  “She’s harmless,” the shorter mother stated. “I watched her closely. And not just for threatening behavior. I watched how she interacted with the other children.” She glanced to the taller mom beside her. “Look, I don’t know if her playing with them is safe…I mean, the handling of the toys and whatnot. But the girl herself? She’s harmless.”

  Roger crossed his arms and stared down the hallway toward Trevor’s room. “I had a dog once. Nicest pup in the world. But even he turned on me once.” He held his hand up and pointed to a faded white scar across the back of his hand. “We were playing just moments before and I gave him a bone filled with peanut butter. When I reached to take it away, he growled and bit.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

  The shorter mother raised a brow at him. “Then don’t try to take away her bone.”

  Roger gave her a disapproving look. “I think you know what I mean. Whether it’s intentional or not, it happened. The big difference here is, a bite from her is a death sentence.”

  The taller mother shook her head. “Is it?” She hooked her thumb toward the hall. “She’s still alive and breathing.”

  Roger sighed. “Yeah, I get that. I just don’t know what makes her different from the rest of the world.”

  Kevin scrambled to slide a sample tray into the incubator and was fumbling with the cover when the door to the lab slammed open. “Where did they go?”

  He jumped and nearly knocked a beaker over as he spun. “Who went where?”

  “Don’t play with me.”

  Kevin didn’t recognize the man who approached him, but he knew that look in his eye. He’d seen it many times in his life and he knew that he was about to be hurt. He held his hands up as he backed away. “I swear to g—” His words were choked off as the uniformed man pushed him into the metal counter, knocking glass and pyrex to the floor.

  “Where. Did. They. GO?” the soldier growled in his face.

  Upon reflection, Dr. McAlester’s first and foremost thought was whether the angry man knew that his breath smelled like he had gargled with pickled assholes. His second thought was how he could possibly suck air into his lungs without puking.

  “Get off of him!” The voice that boomed through the small lab was a godsend to Kevin. As he slid to the floor he had a feeling of déjà vu—vivid memories of high school and his principal saving his ass. Again.

  “Stand outside.” The unknown soldier pointed to the door. “Make yourself useful and guard something, will you?”

  Kevin coughed and did his best not to look like the academic weenie that he knew he was. He slowly pulled himself to a standing position and looked up at the imposing figure. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” The man crossed his arms and stared down at him. “I called off the Marine because you’re the only one who may be able to tell me where Broussard and Chaplain ran off to.”

  Kevin blinked at him as his mind raced. “I don’t…I mean, I have no idea. I thought they were with you guys.” He pointed to where he thought the coastline might be. “Out there, I mean.”

  The man sighed heavily and uncrossed his arms. A steel-like finger jabbed Kevin in the sternum, causing his body to jerk unceremoniously. “They ran off, bookworm. Where did they go?”

  Kevin crumpled and twisted away from the abuse. “I have no idea!” His face contorted in rage. “And quit poking me, for cryin’ out loud.” He stepped away from the uniformed man and tried to straighten his lab coat. “I promise you, I am the last person they would confide in.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning this lab is just like fucking high school. I wasn’t part of the ‘in’ crowd.” Kevin inhaled deeply and blew it out hard. “In fact, I still strongly suspect that they used me as a lab rat for their so-called ‘cure.’”

  The soldier raised a brow at him and stepped closer, causing Kevin to step behind the center island, keeping as much of the cabinetry between them as possible. “Who would they confide in, then?”

  Kevin shook his head. “Each other. They weren’t exactly the trusting types.”

  “You mean to tell me that you worked side by side with them every day and you didn’t hear anything?”

  “That’s EXACTLY what I’m telling you, you thick-headed sack of—” Kevin froze, his eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean to say that.” He pressed a palm to his mouth and backed further from the soldier.

  The man’s brows knit together and he stepped closer, causing Kevin to step back and away, putting the island between them again. “Where would they go?”

  “How should I know?” Kevin’s voice cracked as he felt panic rise from his guts. “I swear, they didn’t breathe a word of it to me. I didn’t know they were gone…or even going anywhere until that gorilla came in here and tackled me.”

  “I don’t think I believe you,” the soldier growled low.

  Kevin squared his shoulders and glared at him. “I don’t give a flying FUCK what you believe.” His hand shot out and he threw a beaker at the soldier, narrowly missing him. He was advancing, coming around the corner, fists balled and adrenaline pumping through him before his true nature took over and he collapsed to the ground. “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t…”

  The soldier stepped forward and watched as Kevin rolled into a defensive ball, a wet stain growing at the crotch of his khakis. “What the hell?”

  “I don’t know what came over me,” Kevin whined as he pressed his arms closer to his face, defensively. “Please don’t.”

  The soldier stepped back and turned toward the door. He gave a slight shake of his head before stepping away. “He doesn’t know anything.”

  A muffled voice could barely be heard from behind the door. “Are you certain?”

  The soldier nodded. “He pissed himself. If he knew anything, he would have told us.”

  Kevin kept his eyes squeezed shut and heard the laboratory door open then close. He remained in the defensive posture for far too long, unsure if the men had left.

  When he finally lowered his arms and opened his eyes, he was indeed alone. The warm piss that had soaked his pants was now cold and he shivered slightly as he came to his feet. He glanced around the lab and felt his jaw quivering as he braced himself on the counter. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered to himself.

  Kevin turned for the door, intending to return to his stateroom to change. He paused, then squinted. “Sheesh, these lights are killing my eyes.”

  Simon waited for the sun to begin setting. He could almost feel the anxiety in the air as he stepped out of the convenience store. He had long
since finished the jerky and felt more than full after drinking nearly two entire gallons of water.

  With his shotgun propped across his shoulder and a bottle of whiskey hanging from his finger he sauntered across the paved road, his eyes hidden behind the aviator sunglasses. He studied the entrance to the hotel and half expected a greeting party of useful idiots.

  He stepped up onto the cement sidewalk and ignored the loose trash blowing past his feet. He strode toward the double glass entrance and used the barrel of the shotgun to push the door open. He tried to announce his arrival with a smart assed, “Lucy, I’m hoooome!”

  Instead it came out as a cross between a howl and a growl. He cursed to himself as he tried to control his tongue, to force actual words to come out. The best he could manage sounded as if he had gargled with broken glass and accidentally inhaled it.

  He detected movement in the shadows and reached up to remove the sunglasses before he realized he could see just fine. His head snapped side to side as the once empty hallways filled with curious onlookers.

  He took a deep breath and tried to say, “Bring it you bitches.” What came out of his mouth sounded nothing like human language.

  Still, the infected that were slowly approaching seemed cautiously aware that this lone stranger standing in their midst was dangerous. They rocked slowly side to side, their eyes gauging him, measuring him up before they dared to act.

  A lone Rager pushed his way through the crowd, howling as he closed the distance to Simon. Simon turned and immediately recognized the asshole with the pipe in his hand.

  It didn’t take much deduction for him to realize that: “he who held the bluntest weapon, ruled.” The Rager pushed his way through the crowd and stepped into the lobby of the hotel.

  The last remaining licks of sunlight were sending eerie orange and red shadows across the cityscape as the leader of the Ragers slowly circled Simon, the pipe held over his head and his howls echoing through the hallways of the hotel. Simon watched him for a moment before losing interest in the simian behavior.