by Jeff Olah
“What happens then?”
“You wouldn’t be able to comprehend anything close to what it would be like. Three of the other buildings contain every variant of the infection we currently are aware of. These aren’t the typical monsters you’ve seen since the outbreak. These things are… Advanced. We would all be dead within the hour. All of us.”
“Well then, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Not wanting to interrupt, Savannah waited for Mason to turn away from the counter. “Uh… Mason, Randy’s awake.”
Hurrying over to his friend, Mason crouched beside him. “So, when were you going to tell us about being shot?”
Biting through the pain shooting through his left shoulder, Randy grinned. “Would it have made a difference? It’s only a scratch anyway.”
“Yeah, that’s some scratch. You gonna be able to keep it together for a few minutes?”
Randy rested against the wall and tilted his head back ever so slightly. “Sure, who’s our new friend?” he asked.
“This is Parker. She got us in here; don’t know much about her yet, although there’s a bit of a snag. No time to explain. Stay here and don’t move. She’s taking me to Eleanor and we’ll come back for the three of you.”
Mason reached into the closest of the three black bags, pulled out two pistols as well as two full clips and nodded to Parker. He turned to April, kissed her on the forehead and brushed his son’s hair out of his face, knelt beside him and whispered into his ear, imagining he could actually be heard. “Hey buddy, we’re gonna get you some help.”
Addressing the group, Mason said, “We’ll get in, do what we need to do to free your mother and the two that are trapped. Once we get it all sorted out, I’ll come back for you. You’ll be safe here until we get back. Parker can this door be locked as we leave?”
“Already on it,” she said.
Handing her one of the two loaded pistols and a clip, Mason motioned for the door. “Let’s do it.”
Parker waited for Mason to make his way over to the twin ten foot stainless steel doors that opened into the rest of the facility. “As soon as you hear the airlock disengage, we are good to go. Just follow me up the hall and you’ll see the Command Center one hundred feet ahead on the right. This hall will be filled with Feeders in only a few seconds, so stay on your game. Only use your weapon when it is absolutely necessary, you hit one of the air ducts and its lights out... for everyone… Ready?”
“Yep.”
Laying the pistol next to the last computer screen, Parker keyed the sequence into the security program slowly and one stroke at a time, insuring that only the doors she wanted unlocked would open. She gave herself ten seconds to be sure she was standing next to Mason as the countdown ended. She counted backward in her mind while tapping her right foot on the ground, hoping he wouldn’t realize she was just as afraid to use the weapon in her hand as she was of the monsters on the other side of the door.
“Five... Four… Three…” counting down under her breath, Parker was interrupted.
April pushed back away from Justin, gasping as she moved to her feet. “Mason… Justin is trying to move.”
32
Her screams erupted against the inside of his head, almost muting the pain in his legs as he attempted to curl them to his chest. She was afraid, that was evident and with every move, April became more hysterical. What little light came in through his closed eyelids transitioned from a muted white into a troubling grey as he slid closer to death. Beginning slowly, Justin’s movements were mere twitches; although this was the first time since the earthquake he had been somewhat responsive. April begged her husband. “Mason help our son!”
. . .
The day he stood in the doorway with his backpack slung heavily over his shoulder, Mason knew his son was standing just inside his bedroom waiting and listening. The toes of his size eleven shoes protruding from behind the door and his shadow reached out into the hall, Justin quietly cried for his father. The eventual split was amicable, even if neither thought the other had any justification. He still loved April, he loved her eternally and like he never had anyone else. They simply were destroying themselves slowly. Their lack of communication and the stress of trying to be the perfect family with the weight of everyday life had taken its toll. He didn’t want to leave and more than that April wanted him to stay, although neither had the energy to tell the other.
He doubted his decision to leave during the first weekend he spent alone in his apartment. Seventy-two hours of being too broke to go anywhere and too deep in his own misery to admit where he had fallen down, Mason sat alone in darkness. With no clients to train over the holiday weekend, Tuesday morning couldn’t come quick enough. This put him back in the gym with his friends and also just three days away from seeing his son.
The ninety days he lived apart from April, Mason dialed all but one digit of her phone number every evening as a ritual. He’d hover over the last number before hanging up, flipping on the television and ending his night on the sofa. The weeks passed quickly, as he grew into a routine of avoiding his thoughts and burying himself in his brutal workouts.
On occasion, while heading down the hall to work, he’d notice the newest member of the building moving things in and tinkering around his apartment. The door open, evidently trying to establish some sort of a relationship with the only person in the building that hadn’t avoided him like the plague, Randy was friendly if not a tad overbearing the first time they met. Mason wasn’t bothered by this; in fact it was a needed distraction from life. They’d sit outside the building near the edge of the park sharing exaggerated stories of days gone by and laugh at the ridiculousness of their lives.
Listening more than sharing for the most part, Mason used this time to drift from reality into something completely different. He liked having someone else around and only being in the building a few weeks longer than his neighbor; he felt the need to act as the big brother. Even though the job Mason arranged for him didn’t work out, the pair bonded though a mutual affinity for a simple existence.
Mason was intrigued by the troubling stories his new friend told of things he had seen in his personal and professional life. The fact that they found common ground was something Mason questioned in himself regularly. In time, he grew concerned that he liked the new life he was leading and felt as though he was drifting away from the man he used to be… the man that was still married and had a child. This spell was broken two weeks before the infection ravaged his neighborhood.
With three quick raps on his front door, Mason jumped to his feet and opened the door. He was expecting the usual door to door salesman that he would point toward the “No Soliciting” sign outside the elevator. This man wasn’t a salesman. He had an envelope for Mason that contained several thousand dollars and a note from the man he felt was partially responsible for his current situation. The note from April’s father read, The trouble I have caused you and April was not intentional. Please accept my apology – Richard Daniels.
At the time, working toward what he hoped was going to be reconciliation between him and April, Mason was livid. The nerve of her father, thinking he could purchase forgiveness. Mason subconsciously backed away from his wife once again. She had only been to his place once in the last two months and after meeting Randy, begged Mason to leave. She felt Randy was a bad influence, but now he was staying just to spite April and her father.
. . .
There was a reason her father sent the man with the envelope. He knew Mason wouldn’t accept the cash and that it would drive a wedge between him and April even further. He was trying to keep them apart; this didn’t surprise him, what did was the delivery man’s reaction to Mason tossing the envelope back in his face. He knelt down, picked it up and simply said, “He wants you to know he trusts you.”
He didn’t understand it at the time, he couldn’t. There was no context. It now seemed possible though that there was a reason this man wanted them apart, and
it appeared to have little to do with Mason’s life choices.
Struggling to pull himself together for what he needed to do and the choice he needed to make, Mason began to turn back to his family. He watched as April stood, turned away from their boy and backed toward the opposite wall. She begged someone to help as Justin’s movements became more violent. Mason couldn’t help; he could only watch his wife fall apart as the airlock whispered to life.
Still half turned toward his family, Mason looked confused as Parker tugged his sleeve and started to pull him into the hall. He looked back, eyed the black duffle and then Randy. He spoke quickly as Parker moved in behind him and reached for the door handle. “Randy, please protect them, but don’t hurt my son… I’m begging you, do what you have to do, but don’t hurt him.”
With the seconds passing quickly, Parker looked down the hall waiting for the inevitable as Mason continued to watch his son’s movements become more pronounced and violent. “Mason now, we have to go now. There’s no time… there really isn’t.”
“I know… I know,” Mason said as he turned his back and headed down the hall.
33
Watching Parker close the door to the rest of the building as Mason moved down the hall, the group turned their attention back to Justin. He had through his convulsing managed to slide back-first into the wall and below the front counter. His movements came in sporadic waves and troubled the group into silence.
Remaining aware of their situation and becoming more concerned with Mason heading out in the opposite direction, Savannah went to the counters and slid in behind, putting space between herself and any possible danger from Justin’s unknown condition. “Uh… what are we going to do now?”
Struggling without assistance to get to his feet, Randy righted himself and slid one of the duffels along the ground against the far wall. “Just pray he doesn’t get up.”
“What are you thinking if he does?” April asked.
“Don’t know; let’s hope they get back with some help before we have to think about it.”
“Just promise me you won’t… wait, Savannah where’d you get that and what’s on your mind?” April said pointing to the pistol sitting on the counter in front of her.
“Just in case.”
April stepped to the other side of the counter and between Savannah and her son. “You’re not doing ANYTHING with that!”
Her face as bright pink as the dried blood stains covering most of her clothes, Savannah pushed the gun aside and addressed April. “You know what’s happening, we all do. Someone has to do something. The only reason we haven’t yet is because we’re afraid, afraid of what will happen if we do. I’m now just as afraid of what will happen if we don’t. We’re basically stuck in this room with him.”
“We’ve been with him for hours and he hasn’t done anything, maybe he won’t” April said.
“April, I’m just being realistic. It’s not safe for us and hasn’t been since we found out. We need to protect ourselves.”
From the other side of the room, Randy interrupted by chambering a round into his own weapon. “We’re not going to hurt him April, although I’m not going to allow him to hurt us either. Let’s all get behind the counter. We can watch him from there, keep a safe distance and check the monitors for Mason as well.”
Assisting Randy, April dragged the other bags along and helped him make his way to the monitors. They kept a lookout for any changes in Justin’s condition while watching Mason and Parker hurrying down the long corridor.
. . .
Arms extended, weapon raised and index finger firmly placed against the trigger, Mason nipped at her heels as Parker ran up the hall passing two large rooms to their right. They were filled with multiple Feeders marching toward the doors. To the left, running the length of the facility was floor to ceiling, blast resistant glass looking out against the wooded backdrop. The pearl white marble flooring underfoot was slick in places from the smattering of puss filled blood leading the way to the Command Center.
“Here we go,” Parker said as three odd looking Feeders turned the corner at the far end of the hall. “These guys are a little different; they’re what we call Partials.”
“Partials, what does…?”
“No time, we have less than sixty seconds and the door is past these three. Just know these are faster than the others and a lot stronger. Don’t let them get ahold of you. You won’t get free once they do.”
The first of the three moved in front as Parker let Mason take the lead, checking the timer on her watch. “Take him out!”
Moving to within three feet, Mason turned his back to the doors of the Command Center and squeezed off one round. It ripped through the side of his first targets head and into the second one. Both feeders tumbled to the floor as the third appeared to acknowledge this and step around the mess as it lunged for Mason. “Two down, one…”
“Forty seconds, we have to get in NOW!” Parker said.
His second shot missed the last Feeder as it hurled itself forward, grabbing Mason around the waist. Parker screamed as she was pulling the door open and returned to Mason, now below the monster and his weapon sliding to a stop at the opposite side of the hall. He pushed with everything he had; keeping this monster’s teeth no more than twelve inches from his throat as it thrashed from side to side. It grabbed Mason’s injured shoulder and came in for a second attempt as he screamed in agony. “Parker shoot it… NOW!”
Trying to line up the shot, her hands trembled with each passing second. As she hesitated, the creature still pinning Mason to the ground noticed her movement and looked at her. Showing its teeth and snarling was its last act as Parker pushed the barrel to its forehead and quickly squeezed the trigger.
What remained of its head was now a disturbing mess running down the glass interior. The bullet firmly placed in ceiling tile only feet away, Mason kicked away, got to his feet and retrieved his weapon as Parker entered the Command Center. She was running to the rear of the room as she was shouting back to Mason. “Hold the doors closed, there will be more coming.”
Sliding into the seat behind a row of computers, Parker pounded the keyboard as Mason closed the doubled doors and peered out the rectangular cutouts into the hall beyond as five additional feeders moved rapidly toward them from the other end. The reflection of the room behind him in the glass was a welcoming sight. He hadn’t seen her in months, although sitting between the rows of solid grey tables, her face was unmistakable.
“Mason!” she said, fighting back tears as she stood and ran to him.
Arms pressed against the doors as the wave of danger reached the other side, Mason didn’t turn as he answered. “Eleanor, everything is going to be ok. We’re here to help… Parker how we doin?”
“We’re good. Just a few seconds.”
Standing to his right, staring out into the hall as Mason fought to hold his position, Eleanor looked puzzled. “Where’s April and Justin?”
. . .
The doors burst open and Randy leveled his nine millimeter at the first of two Feeders through the door. Startled, April screamed and instinctively grabbed the weapon Savannah had taken from the bag. The door closed just as the airlock engaged and the two monsters headed for Justin. Unable to take the shot with April in his line of fire and stumbling toward the chaos, Randy knew he wouldn’t make it in time.
They ignored the others in the room and went straight to Justin as April moved in behind, pulled back on the slide and fired three rounds into the first of the two. The second turned from Justin and jumped at her as she emptied the remaining rounds into its head, neck and torso. Without hesitating or regard for her own safety, she tossed the gun to the ground and moved in over her now motionless son.
“What was that?” Randy asked.
Hurrying to get around the counter to April, Savannah looked back at Randy. “Those things were different… almost normal looking.”
“No, I mean her,” Randy said, pointing at April as he wince
d through the pain radiating from his shoulder. “You ok?”
April didn’t respond. She tugged at the pant legs of the two bodies, moving them away from her son. Large pools of blood trailing as she fought to move them even a few feet. Exhausted, she sat next to Justin, unable to shed a tear. Her face warm with anger, she kicked at nothing in particular. “Randy, is the door locked?”
“Yep, they must have made it.”
34
Convinced that Parker had properly secured the area, Mason pulled his hands from the door and turned to Eleanor. He reached for her arm, pulled her in close and hugged her. The sweet citrus smell of her perfume still clung to the silk blouse hanging neatly from her shoulders. Her face blotchy and moist as the tears of the past day pulled mascara from her eyelids down across her cheeks. Even without a stitch of makeup, this woman would be stunning and was usually the first person noticed in a crowded room. The only attribute to surpass her physical appearance was the nature in which she carried herself. Her effortless smile and warmth of her voice typically put everyone at ease. Today was different.