End Times, Inc. (A Great & Continuous Malignity)

by David S. Wellhauser

  “Where are we going?”

  “Breakfast.” She continued to stare as if he’d suddenly become stupid. “Grist Mill.” This seemed to satisfy her because she leaned back and hummed with a hand on his shoulder. The hand he wasn’t certain of, but she seemed more relaxed about whatever was coming next. At The Grist Mill they met Jonah and Asher outside, waiting. Salt smiled as he took the girl’s hand.

  “Good to meet you Candice. I understand you are looking for a home; we should be able to help you out with that—if you are interested.”

  “Yes sir, I can do anything you need.” There was a double edged meaning here, which seemed more than a little dangerous, but Jonah let it skate—though behind Gattinari’s left shoulder Asher was smirking.

  “Let’s have breakfast before we speak of particulars.” And the group disappeared into the restaurant. They’d ordered and were having their first coffee—Jonah tended to drink several over the course of any day—when the meal lurched toward ruin.

  Melissa stood at the cash waiting to be seated. Three Metas—Matt assumed Transhumanists—stood behind her. They weren’t overly large but there was a sense of determination and focus about them. The woman waved with a large and unhealthy smile on her face—unhealthy only because Feargal knew what lay behind it. The sickening feeling which followed for Matt was all about the fact that he had been responsible for bringing her into his life and only because he needed to launder the new cash flow he’d been expecting from Jonah and the ganja.

  The consequence had been a level of suffering he would not ever have expected.

  The woman had altered little since last Matt had seen her—which was, perhaps, a little over a year ago. Her hair was still long and a hard candy red; the pupils the same red with no irises but floating in a yellow gold which remained inconstant in shade. Her fingers, too, had the same hard, claw-like nails. Matt and Jonah both looked to Candice; the girl shrank away and rose from the table—joining Melissa.

  Matt slowly rose from the chair—his face draining of colour—but Jonah placed a hand on his forearm. Leaning in he whispered. “This was to have been expected, but it may be useful.” Feargal, sitting, continued to struggle with the betrayal and humiliation. He’d known something had been off about the kid but had let it slide—now they’d all pay for that. Not taking his eyes from Gattinari Feargal rested his weight against the back of the chair and leaned back on two legs. There he rocked gently.

  Watching the pair, Candice leaned in and whispered to Melissa. Her smile tightened, and then disappeared. “Something wrong there red?” Jonah’s eyebrows rose in question; then dawn broke and he smiled.

  “You didn’t?”

  “I was trying to be a gentleman—it seems doing the right thing does have its benefits.” As Matt spoke, Melissa, with Candice a couple of contrite steps behind, approached. Doing so Asher tightened, but Salt signalled him not to move. Melissa sat in the chair vacated by Candice. Looking at Matt, she smiled.

  “You really didn’t hit that?”

  “‘Fraid not.” The woman shook her head dismissively. “But I have to wonder why you care—since you have Leonor?”

  “Hedging one’s bets never hurts and there is still the issue of her having only a fraction of your DNA.”

  At this Matt’s coffee flew into her face and Melissa’s security attempted to step up, but the first of these Asher dropped with a weapon that came from nowhere. Matt wasn’t carrying for fear of being pulled over, and now that bit of reasoning put him at risk. Jonah attempted to bring order to the meeting but Matt was out of his seat and charging Candice; before she could go a handful of steps, he had raked her back with a butter knife. Screaming, the girl twisted, almost losing her footing, then bolted as Matt was tackled by the other Transhumanist guard. He’d hardly had Feargal on the ground when Matt twisted round with the blade. Before he could strike, however, the side of the guard’s head exploded from a shot by Salt. Grabbing the man’s weapon from its holster Matt took aim at Melissa’s back as it retreated passed the cash, but Jonah kicked the weapon and the shot went wide.

  “She’s still with Halton. You want to make the rupture complete; then kill her.” Standing, watching the Mill’s customers scatter or cower; Matt approached Jonah with blood spattered over his face.

  “If he can’t make the break with that H+ bitch then he is no better than she.”

  “Perhaps not, but Neruda and Edwards have been useful in the past and may yet be again.”

  “No more, Jonah. Next time she crosses my path I will kill her.” Before the Meta could answer there were the first and not so distant sirens.

  Jonah appeared torn. He knew there was no way the one time psychologist could get his mind to a place where he could, in cold blood, kill the woman, but—Feargal supposed—could they any longer ignore what the Melissa had become? Whether or not Halton could deal with the reality of what needed doing was another matter. Then there were the sirens. All of them had become masters at dealing with the reality of their situation one crisis at a time. This was one that had to be dealt with or they’d end up on the wrong end of a prison sentence. This had nearly happened on several occasions and threatened to do so again. “Fuckit!” Matt shouted and ran for the door; followed by Salt and Asher.

  Their two vehicles, SUVs, were waiting outside with guards from Salt’s amorphous organisation. Matt wasn’t sure what to call it since Jonah hadn’t yet had the heart to decide on any of their fundamental goals—besides stopping the Transhumanists and Zakara. As they stepped from the door, however, the street erupted in gunfire. The group scattered to either side of the lot by the door and behind cars on the reconstituted strip mall. Slivers of faux-wood panelling showered Feargal and the others. Peering around a bumper they could see Melissa rip down the street, with Candice, in a town car. “We have to get out of here!” Matt yelled. Salt nodded and returned fire—as the sirens grew louder and closer.

  Then the police were onsite, but only one cruiser; Matt couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. But then the town couldn’t have been more than 5,000 strong in a good year. As the cruiser screeched sideways to a halt the passenger door swung open; then a woman with a bullhorn and shotgun climbed out. “This is the East Troy Police Department; put your weapons down—now!” There was a hesitation on the part of the H+ then there was laughter, followed by barrage of gunfire. The woman fell dead, missing the better part of the right side of her head. With this Matt saw an opportunity and dropped two of the Transhumanists.

  With this the group turned back to those cowering behind the cars and returned fire. Here more of Salt’s people appeared. The distraction offered those pinned before the restaurant to make a run for their SUV. Asher was grazed by a stray round, but managed to open the passenger door and dive in. Salt was quickly in the driver’s side and Matt was making for the back. As he did so two of the H+ drew down on him and called for him to halt, but they did not fire. This was curious in itself—hadn’t they yet given up on taking him alive? Apparently not—this presented Feargal with an opportunity, which he did not waste. Dropping both, he hopped into the backseat and screamed for Jonah to go.

  They weren’t down the hill when the squeal of tires was heard. Matt turned to the sound and there was a crack, accompanied by an implosion of glass blown into his face. Surprisingly he’d been neither killed, nor blinded by this. “Are you okay?” Asher shouted.

  “I...think so.” Gently brushing the fragmented glass from his face; then opening his eyes. Jonah was staring back worriedly from the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, I can see.”

  “Keep down.” Salt growled and pulled a hard right onto Mill. As he downshifted for the hill there was a squeal and crunch from behind, but none, this time, turned to look. As they passed the post office there was a scream from their rear, followed by a sickening thud.

  Matt turned and a young woman was caught half on the grill of the lead SUV and half beneath the front of this. Then she was gone and the vehicle bucked over the body.


  This had not been the plan. Milwaukee was to have been a quick in and out—kill the cockroaches and pick up whatever Intel there was. The former had proven more complicated than expected and the latter non-existent; then there was Troy. Cursing under his breath there followed another crack; however this time the vehicle bit left—hard. But Jonah didn’t stop. The vehicle was slowing as they turned onto what he thought was Austin; then Church. “We need to get out of town.”

  “Took at least one round in a tire. Need to change vehicles—there should be a few on the roundabout.”

  Unfortunately, there were no vehicles on the roundabout, but theirs wasn’t going any further. Abandoning this, the three men disappeared between a bank and a roofer. Yet, this wasn’t before some of the H+ were after them on foot and the others were circling around. The gunfire oddly had drawn a number of people onto the street before the danger became apparent and they ran for cover—all of them with their cells out. Matt came up behind a car dealer and stopped. Salt smiled and followed him, while Asher was holding the foot chase off with the few rounds he’d left. After locking the sales team up they grabbed an SUV with dealer plates and were off again.

  Coming out from behind the low-slung building, some 60s trash which had managed to survive right into the latest apocalypse, they were speeding directly down Main and towards the southwest of town. Asher, given his arm wasn’t too bad, was driving and Jonah was in the back with Matt. As the two SUVs were again hard on them Jonah managed to take out both drivers—they slammed into houses on either side of the road. But the group had little time to laugh before there were more sirens.

  “State Police?” Matt asked.

  “Would have to be.” Asher answered. “Stay on the road or hide?”

  “We can’t hide. The Federals have to be all over Milwaukee by now. They have to know, also, this will have something to do with that; so we need to get as far away as possible.”

  ***

  “We need to get rid of this.” Asher griped. “Fast.” Salt looked back, but the sirens had disappeared.

  “We may have bought some time with the H+ we left behind, but I doubt it is much.”

  “So where?”

  “There’s a cemetery down the road a bit and I think there’s a house across from it.” Asher was rubbing his arm as Salt spoke. “How is it?”

  “When we find a place I’ll worry.”

  “Is this going to be far enough away from Troy—we have left one helluva shit storm back there?”

  “I hope so, but it will have to do for now—we can’t take this much further before someone sees we are driving on Dealer plates. This will also make it very easy to find us.”

  “Slow down, Asher.” Matt said, leaning forward. “The speed will make us stick out.” Easing back on the petal he leaned his head back.

  “How much further?”

  “Almost there. Just keep an eye out for a small cemetery—like that one.” The vehicle slowed precipitously; then eased to a crawl. “Drive by slowly so we can check the driveway.”

  “No cars, but it’s a long drive,” Feargal mouthed lowly, “and there seems to be a barn.”

  “Double back and slip in next to the walk.” Easing in the drive the gravel crunched under the tires as the SUV pulled to a halt.

  Matt knocked on the door while Asher and Jonah hid out of sight behind some large shrubs. The door opened after a short moment and the woman smiled at Matt; then she saw the automatic. Her mouth was forming a scream when Feargal slammed the butt into the side of her head. She folded and lay in the carpeted foyer moaning. Matt and Jonah dragged her into the living room, just off the hallway. “Is there anyone else here?” Salt asked, threatening her with his weapon.

  “Please.” Salt slapped her and repeated the question. “In the barn.” She whispered holding the side of her face. After a couple of minutes and some struggling, Asher returned with a man who looked about 10 years older.

  “Matt,” Salt said, “put the SUV around back—make certain it’s hidden from the street. If there’s space in the barn put it there.”

  When Matt returned the couple were still in the living-room but the woman was weeping hysterically and the man was bleeding from the mouth; there looked to be a couple of teeth on the carpet in front of the fireplace. He was moaning lowly and holding his face. “Tried to grab the weapon. Did you hide the vehicle?”

  “Yes,” distracted, “beside a car he was working on. That thing isn’t taking us anywhere.”

  “You’d better check upstairs; see if there is anyone else.” Matt took the steps faster than was prudent, but found no one; didn’t even appear there was anyone else living here but the couple—not for some years.

  “No one.” Matt said, returning to the living-room.

  “Just the two of us for 10 years.” The woman spat the words with a hateful glare at her partner. There were volumes here; if they were lucky this might prove useful.

  “Let’s put them in the kitchen.” Salt directed the younger men. All the fight had gone out of the man and he allowed himself to be puppeted into the kitchen; the woman didn’t have to be encouraged—she rose and followed her husband, with Jonah bringing up the rear. In the kitchen Salt looked about; then turned to her. “Is there any rope?” She winced away, but didn’t say anything.

  “In the basement.” The husband spoke thickly from a ruined mouth. Asher disappeared into the basement door just beyond the kitchen in the hallway.

  The couple stood, silently, against the sink, staring at the floor. Both appeared to be attempting to make themselves as inconsequential as was possible. From the man, though, Feargal could still sense waves of hostility. Looking more closely at the pair he began to wonder how they’d got here from yesterday. There’d been the movement toward terrorism four years before, but that had been focused on the Transhumanists. The last day and a half, though, had taken them to a dangerous place which would place their group against the mechanisms of the State. Matt was suddenly feeling suicidal. Shaking this off he watched Asher bind the woman and her husband to the chairs.

  After a moment the pair began to bicker, again; then the husband spat in the woman’s face. Weeping, softly, she lowered her head—bloody sputum dangling from her nose. Asher struck him in the side of the head and he sagged forward, allowing a thick string of blood to run from his mouth. “Do you have a car?” Salt asked the pair. Neither answered. Grabbing the woman’s hair he pulled her face up. “Do you?”

  “Yes.” She whinged through gritted teeth.

  “Where?”

  “By the far side of the barn.”

  “It runs?” Asher asked.

  “Yes, but we don’t use it much.”

  “Gas?” Asher again.

  “I don’t know.” Jonah shook her head. She yelped.

  “I’m sorry, I really don’t know. He drives it.” Glancing sidelong at her husband.

  “Cunt,” looking up, “I’m gonna...” He was cut short when Matt slapped him on the back of the head.

  “Gas?” Feargal asked.

  “Three-quarters full.”

  “Where are the keys?” Salt asked.

  “On the wall, by the back door.” Jonah got this and returned. The couple had again begun to bicker loudly and the husband was offering a litany of things he would do to her when they’d gone.

  “Please,” she begged, “kill him. He’s a wicked thing. Fucked our children ’til they both ran away. Bastard needs killing.”

  “You lying cunt, you drove them away with your bitchin’ and moanin’...” Feargal slapped him again.

  “Let’s put them in the basement, Asher.” As Jonah and Asher jostled the couple, still in their chairs, downstairs, Matt pulled a chair up and sank heavily into this.

  ***

  Returning from the cellar, Salt found Matt sitting at the far end of the kitchen table, head in hands. “What’s wrong?” Matt leaned up, an astonished look on his face and a deeper sense of disbelief filling his heart.
/>   “Last day and a half.”

  “I’m sorry...”

  “Why did we attack that nest?”

  “We got word that...”

  “Yes, yes—they could have attacked the town.” Salt nodded sitting next to Matt, while Asher got a glass of orange juice from the fridge.

  “Couldn’t we’ve called it in? All countries now have mechanisms in place for dealing with such instances.”

  “Not like that—that wasn’t normal.”

  “Sure that wasn’t normal, but we could have warned them. Because we didn’t we have left a trail of dead, injured, and I don’t know how much property damage. On top of that we’ve made it to the top of Homeland’s fuck-them-up list.”

  “Terrorists?” Asher, lowering the juice; Matt nodded and Asher looked to Jonah.

  “We needed a look, and to see if they could be dealt with. Besides that something is going on with some of the newer transformations. There is no way that should have occurred without a lot of help.”

  “What did we find out?”

  “I had been hoping to pick up one or two specimens for study.”

  “Nothing, in other words.” Jonah shrugged.

  “But we did find out some other things.”

  “Melissa and Thin Man were involved—whoever that is.”

  “Yes.” Asher wondered. “Who is that—what is he?”

  “But has it been worth being labelled terrorists? They will have descriptions of us and we have to be on some cctv by this time. Life will become very difficult—for you, especially, Jonah. Asher and I can alter our appearance enough to pass—but you...” Not finishing as he shook his head in disgust.

  “Zakara has been intensifying the game—or Thin Man working with his tacit agreement.”

  “How do you figure that?” Asher asked.

  “Melissa. She’s high in the H+, for her to be there means that Zakara had to have okayed what we just saw. He mightn’t be over-invested in this; nonetheless, he has given his consent. Perhaps it’s just about seeing what is possible and what the fall-out from creatures like the cockroaches will be.”