by William Oday
Thankfully it was anchored or it would’ve fallen and crushed him to death.
He pulled himself up into a crouch.
The purple rope lights cut off but the music kept playing…
Take my advice, you’d be better off dead…
48
“Miro, you okay?”
Miro let out a groan and a string of obscenities that would’ve made a sailor proud.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Mason sniffed the air.
Gasoline.
The darkness flickered and glowed orange. Tiny yellow flames licked out of the air conditioning vents.
“Get up! We have to get out!”
Mason gritted through the pain and pulled himself to his feet. He helped Miro do the same and they staggered toward the emergency exit door at the back.
Miro got there first and grabbed hold of the lever. He yanked on it but it didn’t budge.
Bright yellow flared behind them.
Mason glanced back to see a huge burst of flame shoot out of the vents. He lunged for the lever and they both pulled as hard as they could.
It slowly came up and Miro kicked the door open.
They piled out and darted into the shadows of a narrow alley between two houses.
A blast of super-heated air buffeted their backs as the bus exploded.
A flash of light bathed the narrow space in daylight and a deafening roar drove them further into cover.
They leaned against a brick wall and stopped to catch their breath. The alley flickered with orange light.
The air was heavy with a dank, sour odor.
A silhouette appeared at the far end of the alley. A darker outline than the surrounding gloom. It sniffed the air but didn’t come closer. After another second, it lifted its head and let out a spine-chilling howl.
A delta.
Another voice howled a response somewhere in the distance. More and more voices joined the call.
“Time to move out,” Mason said.
“I’m on your six,” Miro replied.
Mason ran back toward the entrance to the alley. The sour stink in the air grew stronger, as did the heat and light.
He poked his head around the corner and watched flames blacken the faded mural of a forgotten era. He glanced at movement in the corner of his eye and spotted figures approaching on the street.
One stopped and howled.
Others responded. All closer now.
They were communicating.
A hunting party zeroing in on prey.
Mason looked further up the steep street and saw no sign of Fowler or his men.
“We gotta beat feet or we’re gonna get boxed in,” Mason said.
Miro nodded.
“Still have your pistol?”
“Negative.”
“Me neither.”
Somewhere in the spin cycle, his holster had been ripped away.
“Move out,” Mason said as he rounded the corner heading south down the street, deeper into the Red Zone. That wouldn’t have been his first choice, but the alternative was to run toward a growing number of deltas.
One appeared from around a corner ahead and howled in excitement. Several others responded and the call rippled out in waves.
Mason took a left around a corner building, and ran past a few ruined storefronts. He skidded to a halt and looked around to verify they weren’t spotted.
Satisfied, he leapt through an empty door frame into darkness. His feet crunched over glass and he nearly wiped out when his foot punched through the thin wires of a large bird cage.
Miro helped him get free and they crept deeper into the shadows.
They were both shook up and needed a minute to recover. If they could stay hidden until the deltas moved on, then they could escape and…
Do what?
Going back to the Green Zone would do no good. They would get shot or arrested, probably shot, and neither of those outcomes did anything to help Elio and Theresa.
Which meant they had to attack the problem head on.
They had to get to Alcatraz.
In the middle of the night.
With no boat unless they could locate and steal one.
All while every cop in the city would probably be hunting for them.
And then he realized that as impossible as that sounded, it wasn’t that easy.
Beth and Iridia were in danger. Maybe Noor, too.
Mason had no doubt that the murderous tyrant pretending to be President would go after them for an insurance policy.
Or maybe to tie up loose ends.
He and Miro would have to split up. Each with a vital mission to achieve.
He cupped his mouth to Miro’s ear. “You have to get to Beth and the girls before any of Cruz’s men do. Keep them safe while I go after Theresa and Elio.”
Miro nodded in the dark.
First, they had to lose their latest trackers.
Mason focused to slow and quiet his breath. His chest ached for more oxygen but he didn’t dare let gasping for air give away their location.
A scrape and a crunch outside the store plucked his awareness like a taut guitar string.
A nose sniffed the air in quick breaths.
Several pairs of feet gathered.
So much for hiding.
Mason couldn’t let them get trapped inside by a wall of deltas. It was time to move again. He turned back to Miro and whispered into his ear. “I’ll lead them away. Get the others to safety.”
“Hold on—”
Before Miro could finish, Mason sprinted toward the front. He leapt through the missing store window and shouldered through a delta caught by surprise.
He was back on his feet before the other deltas had a chance to react.
He was already in a dead sprint when the other deltas screamed in fury and started after him.
Mason raced down the street, heading deeper yet into the Red Zone.
He glanced back and was happy to see that they were all in pursuit. Not one had stayed behind to impede Miro’s escape.
Happy?
Was he insane?
More than a dozen deltas chased after him with the nearest one less than twenty yards back.
Happy didn’t cover the complexities of the situation.
49
BETH couldn’t sleep. No surprise there. Miro had taken her phone last night and left to help her husband. He’d made her promise to not leave the house. She would’ve broken the promise a hundred times if she could’ve come up with something that had a chance of helping.
The infuriating truth was that Miro was Mason’s best chance, and that left her fuming.
And waiting.
And worrying.
She sat in the overstuffed chair in the living room with the lights turned off. Buddy was curled up and asleep in her lap. Muffled barks rumbled out of his throat. His legs twitched as he acted out whatever was happening in his dream.
She stroked his head.
“You’re safe, Buddy. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
The rumble quieted and his body relaxed.
She continued petting him to keep him calm as much as herself. Sitting around doing nothing while her loved ones were in danger was like being strapped down while a stake was slowly hammered through her heart.
In the darkness, she squeezed the button on her watch and checked the glowing display.
Four in the morning.
No news could mean only one thing.
Well, it could mean a lot of things, but none of them were good.
She wrestled with what to do next, as she had for hours. But she couldn’t wait forever. It was time to make a decision.
And the fact that she’d heard nothing tilted the scales toward caution.
She scooted Buddy off her lap and pushed up out of the chair, moving her limbs to get them working again. It was time for action. Miro must’ve failed to help Mason. Otherwise, one or both of them would’ve returned by now.
> Beth scooped up Buddy’s limp body and went upstairs. She was about to tap on Iridia’s bedroom door when it inched open.
Iridia slipped into the hall and shut the door behind her. “Are they back yet?”
Beth shook her head. “I don’t think we’re safe here. We need to leave. Pack up whatever you and Noor need for a few days. I’ll get my things together and some things from the kitchen. Be ready to go in ten minutes.”
Iridia nodded.
“Here,” she said as she handed Buddy over. “Let him snuggle Clyde until we’re ready to go. Have you seen Mr. Piddles?”
“Nope. He won’t come in my room anymore now that Noor has dragged in the others.”
“Okay.”
Beth went downstairs and grabbed the family’s Go Bag out of the hall closet. She unzipped it and shuffled through the assortment of supplies that could keep them alive for a few days. Waterproof matches, large trash bags that could serve as waste containers or ponchos or a shelter, an assortment of flashlights and batteries, an outfit for each family member, freeze-dried food, and more.
Back before the outbreak, the Go Bag was one of many examples of Mason’s obsession with preparedness that she used to humor while also laughing a little because it seemed so unnecessary.
The death of over ninety percent of the world’s population had a way of making a person think about reasonable precautions in a different light.
She dropped it by the door and then went to their bedroom to supplement it with a few extra items. She got her Glock 19 out of the closet safe and holstered it at her hip. Another few minutes and she had her own bag packed.
Next, she headed to the kitchen to supplement the Go Bag.
A pounding on the door stopped her in her tracks.
“This is the police! Open the door or we’ll knock it down!”
The pounding continued. Muffled barking from inside Iridia’s room confirmed Buddy had heard the disturbance.
Beth raced upstairs and ran into Iridia and Noor coming down. Noor’s eyes were wide with fear. “Go downstairs! We have to get out Theresa’s window!”
Iridia guided Noor down as Beth followed.
“We know you’re in there! Open the door!”
Something crashed into the door. The thick wood creaked and splintered.
Beth slung the Go Bag over her shoulder and ran downstairs as another blow landed and the door splintered apart.
She hurried down the hall into Theresa’s room.
Iridia was already helping Noor climb up through the basement window.
“Where are Clyde and Buddy?”
“In my room,” Iridia said.
Beth gritted her teeth. There wasn’t time to go back for them.
“Go!”
Footsteps pounded on the floor above as Noor climbed outside. “Search the house! Don’t let them get away!”
Iridia scrambled up and made it outside.
Beth passed the Go Bag up and was about to follow when footsteps came in behind her. “Run,” she whispered.
“Grab her!”
She tried to climb out as Iridia took off with Noor, but strong hands encircled her waist and yanked her down. She whipped her head back and felt a satisfying crack as some unlucky nose got a permanent makeover.
The strong arms flung her to the floor and someone kicked her in the ribs. She doubled up in agony. Someone yanked her Glock out of the holster.
“She broke my nose!”
“Stop whining like a little girl,” Chief Fowler said as he stepped over her and climbed up. He poked his head out the window and looked to each side. He hopped back down.
Good. He didn’t see them.
“Get people outside. Everyone else, look under every bed, behind every door, everywhere. I want the others found!”
He knelt beside Beth and grabbed her chin. He twisted her neck painfully up to look at him. “You’re under arrest. Please resist. I’m begging you. The boss wants you for insurance, but taking you in alive ain’t such a high bar.”
Beth spat in his flat, ugly face.
He reared back and punched her so hard her head bounced off the carpet. He flipped her over onto her stomach. “Hold her down!”
Several officers pinned her arms and legs down.
She fought to break free but it was no use.
Fowler grabbed her pants. He tugged and jerked until they slipped down over her hips and came free. “Chief Fowler is gonna have some fun with you.”
Oh God, no.
He laid down on top of her and whispered in her ear. “We’re all gonna have fun with you.”
She shook back and forth under the suffocating weight. “You’re disgusting!”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
He said it like nothing could’ve made him prouder.
His knees pushed her legs apart. One of his hands squeezed her butt. It dropped between her thighs and squeezed. He shifted and unzipped his pants.
No. No. No.
A head poked through the open window. “Sir! One of our guys spotted the other two!”
Fowler paused and rose to his feet. “Get her up.”
An officer jerked her up and pinned her arms behind her back.
Fowler zipped up his pants. “Dress her and bring her. It shouldn’t take long to run down the others.” He grabbed Beth’s face and squeezed her jaw until it popped.
“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll finish this later.”
50
As wretched as she felt, Beth clung to the comfort that Iridia and Noor had gotten away. It was the only light she could see. Her daughter was going to be executed. Her husband had been arrested and might already be dead. She’d been violated by a disgusting thug with promises of worse to come.
She once thought God was just. That He protected people.
How could she have been so wrong?
And yet, Iridia and Noor had escaped. That was something.
It was something until Fowler and two officers marched her around a street corner and she discovered they hadn’t escaped after all.
In the dim glow of a distant streetlight, Iridia and Noor stood with their backs against the security fence surrounded by four cops. Iridia had Noor tucked behind her. She sliced a knife through the air to keep the cops back.
Fowler approached the perimeter of the half-circle. He stopped alongside an officer. “Why hasn’t someone shot her yet?”
“Sorry, Sir. Didn’t know if deadly force was an option.”
Fowler drew his pistol and pointed it at Iridia.
“No, don’t!” Beth screamed.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Tell her to drop the knife.”
“Don’t shoot!”
“She drops it or I shoot her!”
She wasn’t about to tell Iridia to give up the only thing keeping these animals at bay. Beth didn’t want to think about what might happen to them if they were captured.
What might happen to all of them.
Even Noor, as young as she was.
There were beasts in the world that obeyed nothing higher than their own twisted urges. Maybe death would be better.
“If they get close, stab them in the heart!” Beth shouted.
Fowler marched over and cracked the pistol across her face.
Flashes of light blinded her. She went limp and would’ve collapsed but for the arms holding her up.
Fowler put the muzzle of the pistol to her forehead. The chill of the metal circle burned like a glowing red brand. “How about I kill you first?”
“Chief, aren’t we supposed to keep this one alive?”
“Shut up!” Fowler screamed at the officer restraining Beth. His eyes flashed with fury.
Beth laughed. It wasn’t the right time for humor, but she wasn’t in command of her emotions. The funny thing was how this guy was just like every bully.
“Do as you’re told. Take us back to your master.”
He ground the muzzle into her forehead. His finger curled over the trig
ger. “Shut up!”
Every bully bristled at the idea that there was a bigger bully. And there was always a bigger bully.
“Do you have to ask permission to wipe your butt?”
Fowler threw her to the pavement. He aimed the pistol at her chest. “Chief Fowler makes the decisions! And the other two are insurance enough.”
A dark shape flew out of the shadows.
It latched onto Fowler’s wrist jerking it to the side as the gun went off.
Fowler and the thing fell together in a ball of frenzied growling and groaning. They rolled to a stop.
Buddy! He had the Chief’s wrist in his mouth and was shaking it wildly.
Fowler screamed in pain trying to get free.
Another officer aimed his pistol and fired. The round hit sparked off the pavement.
Fowler slammed Buddy’s head onto the street and then shoved the dazed dog away. He sat up, cradling his bleeding wrist. “You almost shot me!”
“I didn’t though.”
“Help me up!”
The officer pulled his boss up. Fowler retrieved his pistol with his good hand. He turned to Beth. “You’re dead.”
He marched over and pointed the gun at her.
A dark shape blurred by Beth’s feet and up Fowler’s leg. It stopped at his face and bit into his cheek.
Clyde!
Fowler dropped his gun again as he fought to pull the little chimp off.
Miro came up behind an officer in the circle. He snaked an arm around the officer’s neck and dragged him backwards. With his other hand, he wrenched the officer’s pistol free.
Another cop fired, but the round hit Miro’s captive in the chest.
Miro fired back and dropped him. He turned and took another officer down with two quick bursts.
Beth took a deep breath, tensed her muscles, and lunged for Fowler’s pistol a few feet away.
One of the other cops turned his pistol on Beth as she got hold of Fowler’s gun. His chest sprayed blood as Miro put three rounds through his lungs and heart. He dropped like a marionette with the strings cut.
Beth turned the pistol and covered the two remaining officers. “Clyde!”
The little chimp yanked his teeth out of Fowler’s face and darted over. He leapt up into her outstretched arm.