Genesis Virus

by Pinto, Daniel

  “When I think of it you’ll be the first know.”

  Phillip drifts on.

  After a pat on the back from the big man, the Boss says to a unknown man, around David’s age. “It makes sense to me, people say. Why do anything that makes sense to us? So-called good and bad judgment is packaged and passed down through the generations. Even thinking for yourself is not true, you’re using other people’s ideas that are told to you and you continue on the cycle, none-the-wiser.”

  The man says. “So should I listen to you?”

  The Boss says. “Listen, but never stop questioning it. People hardly seek out the truth when they have an answer they like.” The young man looks up at a staring Phillip, who moves away in a hurry, bumping into a man. “Watch it Spic.”

  “If you show a baby a picture of a gorilla and a black person, they think it’s the same person, how is that racist, babies are innocent.”

  Several men blatantly gawk at Phillip; others talk to their friends and look over their shoulders at him as he passes by.

  “Who’s this Schmuck?”

  “Realness from a person is sexy, that and a pair of great tits.”

  “I heard Seppuku is not a bad way to go.”

  Phillip stops to marvel at how the base’s three walls are built. Never would have thought of that.

  Someone says. “I’m tired of eating the same bland food like a fucking astronaut.”

  His friend leans back on his arms, gazing up. “I can’t see the stars.”

  “It’s because they’re insignificant like you.”

  “Who pissed in your coffee, take it easy, save that frustration for the dead…”

  “I believe enough in God to get up every goddam day, but he needs to put on his big boy pants and do his fucking job before I kill everyone in this wretched place.”

  Jeeps are getting their tires rotated and windshields buffed. Phillip feels small, standing in the center of the open land surrounded by the twenty-foot high walls. Where are all the children? Although there’s plenty of crates filled with ammo, jars of grasshoppers and worms off in the shade. It’s a shanty village with more high grade weapons than people like in a third world mercenary’s home. The bare necessities of comfort, then again why have anything of importance outside.

  A man says to Phillip as he passes by. “Man, I hope this guy’s not weird, like jerk off in your mama’s bed weird. I got my eye on you Boy.” He pulls down on a eyelid. “Get.”

  Phillip moves about with his hands in his pockets and head down like a scared traveller who doesn’t know the language, yet is drawn to this American tower of Babel. Everyone in the field of commotion has distinct accents; men hang around other men who sound and look like them like this is a Elementary School playground, where everyone is afraid to be different. He continues to nonchalantly stroll around these groups, keeping a distance.

  “Man, I hope I live long enough to see big asses again otherwise why try to stay alive?”

  “Is she hot or is it all smoke and mirrors? You know. Makeup, heels, and stuffed bras.”

  A man with a cleft lip shoves Phillip from behind. “Move aside, Wetback.” Phillip puts one hand in his armpit and waves the other, gesturing I’m terribly sorry. Dick. Or better yet. Pussy face.

  Phillip has his back to some men, and stands looking at the grass on the hills over the wall. Trying to guess where he’s at by the look of some flowers as if he has a Ph.D in Horticulture. One answer at a time. The landscape is so colorful it looks like a Monet painting.

  “I heard tales of a group of men who inject themselves with undead blood and it gives them a temporary boost of power like the Berserker clan from Viking olden days…”

  The Boss stuffs out his cigar on the hood of a car. “Hell, and I thought I was crazy.” He walks away.

  Time goes by and Phillip overhears. “He has a supervillain IQ with a baby sized cock that’s why he’s in charge with a God complex.” The furtive Phillip avoids the exit to the real world; spots a couple of men talking in the distance, he buries desperation deep, and tries to move in a causal manner, the pain in his chest is back. It feels like a day has pass, only minutes have.

  First man says. “Yesterday, there was this crying girl who said ‘I just want to be happy.’ So I told her I have your happiness right here.” He grabs his groin.

  Second man snorts and claps. “Do you ever wonder why we didn’t turn into those things?”

  Third man says. “Dumb luck…ha, all this happened because this country was turning weak and evil, and used equality and acceptance as excuses. Women with dicks wanted to be president and the blacks wanted more than everyone else just because.” He takes a sip from the alcoholic mouthwash.

  First man says. “I thought is was because everyone was gay. And Jesus wept.”

  Second man is laughing and holding the man’s shoulder. “The Genesis Virus was spread from the queers like with AIDS. Everyone knows that, it’s a fact, jack.”

  First man says. “Someone has to get fucked before and after every revolution.”

  Third man says. “Yeah I think that’s written in the Constitution somewhere.”

  Phillip doesn’t recognize the voices and gladly moves on.

  “Some of the dead have been cross-countrying over this nation which is a plus because some never walked a day in their fatass lives when they were breathing…” Phillip doesn’t stop.

  He spots two men of similar height and build. One of them takes out a snuffbox, flicks it open with his thumbnail, and inhales all its contents. The man’s body shakes as if he just took a cold piss.

  Matthew says rubbing the night from his eyes. “In the past, I once told a teenage girl, during an argument, just because you suck dick, it doesn’t make you grown, you little shit. She said ‘Just because I sleep around, that doesn’t make me a whore.’ And I said yeah you’re a regular nun.”

  Thaddeus says. “Did she cry? I bet she did, that’s how they get you in the end.”

  Matthew says. “I did, like a little bitch, because she broke up with me on the spot.”

  “Really?” Thaddeus’s prurient eyes open wide in genuine disbelief. “What a bitch.”

  Matthew says. “I loved her too, we’ve been dating for seven months.” He fakes a smile and looks at the ground.

  Thaddeus says. “Come on man. I have shit inside of me older than that. Your problem is you don’t respect women…now me, I love everyone. Someone once told me, ‘you don’t like gay people,’ so I told his ass I’ll kiss a gay person this instance.…bring me a lesbian ASAP.”

  Matthew tunes half of it out. “How was the last senorita you were with, how old was she?”

  Thaddeus looks at the Boss chanting in the distance. “Let me just say, she’s past the age of wanting a prick inside her.”

  Matthew says. “I’m glad to see the end of the world hasn’t changed you for the better. A born again asshole.”

  Thaddeus does a peace sign. “I forgot you’re the last American Hippie.”

  They chuckle for different reasons as they pass tires to another person with oil black fingernails sitting on an upside down crate. He places a quarter into the tire treads and looks to see if the black president’s head is visible.

  Phillip is not sure if what he’s been listening to this entire morning is selective hearing, wishful projection, or unfiltered honesty. He closes his eyes solely focusing on the latest voices and with greater clarity recognizes them as the two voices continue to talk, louder and louder inside his head. His search and facade is over, he’s found the men he’s been searching for.

  3

  About a week ago.

  Phillip does not know the time. It could have been night or day in another galaxy. Nevertheless, he vividly remembers the moment two people used his head to open the door to where he would be staying for days. He feels fish hook fingertips in all his pockets.

  “Jackpot.”

  Suddenly, he feels cold and hears a familiar sound, but not sure what
. The dizziness is receding into plain old confusion.

  Still in the darkness of the hood from the helicopter ride, his chest is purple where the sandbag left a dent.

  Phillip is placed into a wooden rocking chair with the high back removed, his hands are roped to the armrests, next his ankles to the chair legs.

  Finally, the black hood is removed. He takes in a deep breath; confident it will be his last. David will take care of my family. At least none of them will have to see me die.

  Phillip is naked and shivering in the rustic chair, he takes in the makeshift brig as the two men talk off in the corner. They have on black ski masks and black clothing or maybe not, it’s hard to tell in the minimal light. Phillip can smell the lighting of one his cigarettes, the smell had been a comfort since his days in the service.

  Thaddeus says. “Where is Jacob?”

  Phillip says. “Up your ass.”

  Thaddeus punches him in the mouth. Knowing a punch is coming still hurts like a motherfucker. The next punch is hard enough to split his lip, not kill him. Incipient black eyes form over his throbbing skull. Phillip comes to the realization he will be here for a while. “Remind me to kill you two later.”

  Matthew says. “It’s not wise to be a hero. Everyone breaks, that’s the point of this.”

  “Who?” Phillip gets another punch to the face.

  Thaddeus says. “Is he alive or dead?”

  Matthew eyes meet Phillip’s eyes, “ok, you asked for it,” and he puts a towel over Phillip’s face. Who is slowly lowered back like a man about to get his hair washed in a salon.

  “Go fuck yourself.” A bucket of water goes in Phillip’s throat. The wooden chair squeaks like an old staircase, getting louder with each step. His ankles are chafing with blood.

  Thaddeus says. “Where is Jacob? Did you kill him? Who are you?”

  A clear jug is bought to Phillip’s chin, Matthew waits for Phillip to catch his breath, he pulls the cloth out of Phillip’s throat. “Are you still with us?”

  Phillip breathes in the towel. “Who?”

  More water is poured over Phillip’s face, he gurgles up his lungs as he stomps his wooden heels. The legs splinter. Thaddeus removes the towel, grabs Phillip’s face with both hands, and squeezes hard fighting to bring his hands together. “We know you ran into Jacob, tell us where he is and I’ll make this quick.”

  Phillip looks into Thaddeus’s eyes and coughs up water in his face. “Thank God for small favors.”

  Thaddeus wipes his face with the bottom of his shirt as Phillip is brought upright again. Matthew smacks the back of Phillip’s head like a doctor slapping a baby to hear that first breath of life. His eyes are bloodshot dry; the water pooling in his nose hurts the most. From the incessant coughing, his lungs are swollen to the brink of snapping apart like overfilled balloons and his writhing muscles hurt with each sneeze like with a bedridden flu.

  The dim light makes it seem like the two men have no eyes and are only teeth in the dark when Phillip looks up.

  Thaddeus says. “You finished?” Phillip coughs again. Thaddeus waves to Matthew and he picks up the lantern and stands beside Phillip.

  Matthew says. “Not owning your mistakes is worst than making them, you are making two. Old buddy old pal.”

  Phillip says. “We’re in a prisoner’s dilemma…let’s all stay quiet like good little boys.”

  “None of this is personal.” Thaddeus pinches Phillip’s nipple and pulls it forward. “Last chance, where is Jacob?”

  Matthew says. “No one is going to walk through that door and save you, you have do it yourself.”

  Phillip says. “Fuck you both.”

  Thaddeus sighs and swipes the knife upward, slicing Phillip’s nipple off. Phillip opens his mouth, no sound comes out except for all four chair legs slamming into the ground.

  Thaddeus says. “I should make you eat it for wasting my fucking time.” He puts his cigarette out in the red center where Phillip’s nipple used to be. Phillip screams to catch his breath because his nose is clogged with spit and blood.

  Thaddeus drops the shriveled cigarette into the pile of cigarettes.

  Matthew stands in the doorway with the lantern.

  Thaddeus turns and says to the dark. “Don’t go nowhere.” The door slams shut. Phillip topples over breaking the chair.

  4

  Phillip puts his hands on the front on a truck hood, head hanging low, his sweat sizzles as soon as it lands. The heat beneath his palms pales in comparison to the fire in his chest.

  Phillip grabs a screwdriver in the dirt and marches forward, not feeling his legs move. He stashes the screwdriver in his back pocket. Matthew and Thaddeus are laughing with their backs to Phillip. He leaps forward and slams Matthew’s head into the Jeep, knocking him out cold. Saving him for last, God willing.

  “What the fuck?” Thaddeus leans off to the side and uses the swinging door as a last minute shield. Phillip punches through the glass with the tool wedged between his knuckles. Chucks of glass are in his collar and he has streaks of blood down his forearm.

  Thaddeus fully swings both arms at a unbalanced Phillip, landing a blow to the bridge of his nose. The prole men gather around them as if it’s a schoolyard fight. A charged environment with an overabundance of alpha males.

  “Kinda of a bitch move, new guy.”

  “Thaddeus don’t get your ass whooped.”

  “I got my money on him.”

  Thaddeus comes storming up with great panache to Phillip who’s on one knee.

  Phillip waits then jumps to his feet, stabbing the screwdriver upward as far as he can for Thaddeus’s face. Ignoring what will happen to his daughter if he succeeds. Thaddeus sways back and ducks under the hook for his cheek then transitions into elbowing Phillip in the stomach with the help of both arms. Phillip rolls onto his back then into a low stance ready to stop a takedown from Thaddeus. The screwdriver goes flying in the air

  A man says. “I’m trying to work here. Watch it.”

  Thaddeus says. “The Boss likes you. I’m not going to kill you, I’m just going knock all your teeth out.” Phillip watches Thaddeus’s feet and fists, and sways back from right hooks, and left hooks. He spins low, getting behind Thaddeus and unleashes a barrage of blows into Thaddeus’s lower back like it’s a lumpy punching bag. A fed up Thaddeus faces Phillip by swinging his arm in 180 degrees hoping to take his head clean-off; tough knuckles instead smashes a side mirror.

  Both men step back with their hands up, waiting for the other guy to attack. Thaddeus is hunching forward holding his side and Phillip is holding his chest.

  The Boss breaks through the circular crowd and fires a shot between them. The onlookers spread like roaches.

  The Boss says. “You two finished? Play grab ass another time we have work to do.” He has on a rakish outfit; a charcoal grey jacket, blue jeans tucked into insulated boots, and a rifle across his back. Hair slicked back. Phillip thinks: where’s he going?

  The Boss puts a hand on Thaddeus’s shoulder and points in the distance as he looks at Phillip. “The enemy is out there, don’t help it destroy the world.” His words sound well rehearsed, but sincere.

  Having missed the whole show, Matthew is helped up by his black motorcycle jacket, he stares at the gash in his eyebrow through a window reflection. He doesn’t have to guess who attacked him.

  Matthew says. “Phillip.”

  Phillip looks his way.

  Matthew gives him a quick salute from the gash outward.

  5

  Blue bonnets blanket the land; Phillip realizes the state he’s in.

  “Why?” The Boss talks over the incoming sound of the wind. “Why is this wrong, because of laws…or let me guess morality. Because that’s what everything boils down to in the end. Am I right? Man created religion and used it when it was convenient, but THIS is my time to be free of everyone else’s ideas that existed centuries before I was even born. If I fail it will be by my own doing and I’ll be responsible
. And if there’s enough room in hell, I’ll be there to pay my debt.” The Boss has been driving and debating with his bodyguard, Matthew, that’s in the backseat of the Jeep.

  Get off your soapbox. Phillip settles in the passenger seat, annoyed and tired. “Are we there yet?” He rows the window down. The Boss smirks at the interruption then continues his conversation a little louder. After a while, Phillip tunes into his past life, relaxed and hypnotized by the headlights of the Jeep on the road upfront. Time and space goes by and the Boss gets deeper into his discussion, trying to make a point, the second man in the back has chosen to nap like a baby from the start of the trip. Although the bumpy terrain forces the slumbering man to open his eyes. He’s the only man watching the road at this exact moment and instantaneously he screams into Phillip’s ear. “WATCH OUT.”

  Phillip sees it too and braces for impact. A weight hits the side of the Jeep like a wrecking ball. It sounds like steel beams warping and the air getting vacuum-sealed out. All the bodies inside the Jeep sway hard to the right, for a split second gravity suspends as the Jeeps roll off the side of the steep embankment. Phillip hears all the men scream in fear, he closes his eyes and meditates on his daughter and her future.

  On the bushy grass at the bottom of the cliff, the Jeep lands on its passenger side, wheels slowing spinning. Phillip unlocks his eyes when his head stops whirling, unfastens his seatbelt, and kicks the fractured windshield until it shatters. The backside of his leg is cut on the final kick out. He crawls through the hole without glancing back. I hope they wake up dead so I can kill them again.

  The driver’s side still has an intact window. Aside from cuts and bruises, for the most part Phillip is okay and after he realizes this, he gazes around weighing his options: run, save, fight. Count your blessings. He runs from the unconsciousness men, below and above him. Hills in every direction and he has to pick one.

  In his dizzy excitement, Phillip forgets to grab a weapon, so he tracks back to the Jeep, goes for the driver’s door first and after numerous hard thrusts upwardly, it opens. He places his arms through and under the Boss’s armpits and elevates him out. Once he gets him on the field, he turns to see a rifle being handed to him through the driver’s door as he goes back to the Jeep.