Chomper Universe Series (Book 1): Chompers

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Chomper Universe Series (Book 1): Chompers Page 10

by J. Okuly


  Silence descended upon us. We didn't speak until the van drove into the underground parking garage at the bank. We scanned the area for intruders, either human or non-human, but everything appeared safe.

  When we got inside the bank, Nova was barking her head off and jumping around the room.

  “She needs to go outside,” I said.

  “I'll check all the floors,” said Kitty.

  “I'll go with you and Nova,” said Mark.

  As Nova did her business, we scanned the park. A few retro Chompers, not yet green or aggressive, ambled around Bonnie and Dharma's garden. I wondered if these creatures had attacked Mr. Olson.

  After a few minutes, we went back inside. I tried to contact my friends again but the phone and internet were still down.

  “There were some blood-soaked pieces of gauze in the sink,” said Kitty. “They brought him here but judging from the gauze, he bled so much he needed medical attention.”

  “The nearest hospital is Lady of Mercy. I saw it on the way here. Everything else is further away.”

  “It's logical they would have taken him there,” Mark agreed.

  Hospitals no longer functioned with anything except a skeleton crew. The National Guard protected the precious drugs and equipment inside the building. Some doctors and nurses still went to work, but many no longer showed up. Everyone was hunkering down to avoid becoming a Chomper meal.

  Before we left the bank, we made sure Nova had plenty of food and water. I had turned one of the empty offices into her private bedroom. She had an automatic watering dish and a huge food bowl. I also found a doggy bed covered in cashmere at an abandoned upscale pet store. I covered the tile floor with rugs so she would feel warm and comfortable during the winter. Nothing was too good for my best friend.

  We decided to check the cameras before leaving the building. You could never be too careful about blind spots where Chompers could lurk.

  Mark pointed at the screen. “Look at this.”

  I leaned closer to watch. The camera which covered the back of the building revealed a terrible sight. Chompers were holding hands as they walked with purpose towards the bank. Others joined them and soon there were half a dozen heading our way.

  “The last thing we need is a confrontation and more injuries,” said Mark. “Let's get out of here quick and quiet.”

  We flew down the stairs and out the door. When we reached the van, Mark turned the key but the vehicle wouldn't start. We heard steam hissing from the radiator. Smoke escaped from under the hood.

  “We damaged the radiator when we hit those Chompers,” he said.

  “Do something!” I looked back to see the group of green creatures closing in on us as we sat dead in the water.

  Kitty jumped out of the vehicle and aimed her gun at the group.

  “No!” I screamed at her.

  Mark turned the key and the engine roared to life. The sound was more purr than roar but we would take whatever we could get.

  They were almost on us.

  “Get in!” I yelled and Kitty jumped inside the van. As we flew across the parking lot, the monsters chased us with surprising speed. The van's engine was knocking and shaking, and I prayed we could outrun them before it finally died. As it was, smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe in a thick fog.

  “This is what we're going to do,” said Mark. “We'll circle the block, go back to the bank and get the keys to the SUV. This van isn't going to make it.”

  We lost the Chompers after two blocks and then circled back around. We kept a watch as Kitty ran inside the building and retrieved the keys. For the moment, there was no sign of the fast-moving Chompers.

  As we turned onto the street once more, the creatures were heading straight toward us. It was almost as if they figured out our trick of double-backing and trying to ditch them. Mark did a sharp u-turn and drove in the opposite direction.

  I thought of Nova and turned back to see the monsters still chasing us.

  “The bank is tight, “ said Kitty as if reading my mind. “Nova is safe and they can't get inside.”

  “That's not their plan.” Mark shook his head. “They're much more likely to ambush us when we get home and drive into the garage.”

  “What's going on?” I said. “Are they getting smarter?”

  Mark nodded. “They're mutating and we need to mutate as well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We need to become better shots and better with a knife. Better at planning our next move and better at planning our strategy. We need to become better chess players because the opponents are stepping up their game.”

  “The Chompers aren't the only problem.” I looked around again to make sure they had not somehow caught up with our vehicle. “We need to watch out for humans as well, especially Jeremy and his crew of Pseudo Soldiers.”

  “It's a new world,” said Mark. “Who could have known how much it would change in such a short time?”

  Chapter 23

  “I thought of something else!” Kitty's voice vibrated with excitement.

  I turned around in my seat. “Don't keep us in suspense.”

  For the first time, I noticed how beautiful the day had turned out. If not for the empty streets, it might be another sunny Saturday afternoon in Carnival, Texas.

  Kitty continued, “You've heard of that big GMO corporation which people protest against?”

  “Marcellius Inc?”

  “That's the one. They do genetically modified corn and fruits. I heard a rumor that even insects won't touch that crap, but we humans are the only ones dumb enough to eat it.”

  I thought about that. Then I thought harder. “You might have something there but … ”

  “But what?”

  “Well, you and I don't eat fast food and that's where Marcellius sells most of their modified products. On the flip side, you can imagine Jeremy and his buddies eating plenty of burgers and other junk. And yet they aren't infected.”

  “Jeremy was infected … for awhile.”

  “Jeremy is a mutant.”

  “I eat fast food,” said Mark. “Not every day but once in awhile.”

  Kitty's face fell. “Yep, I can imagine Jeremy's idiots chowing down on crappy fast food every day of their lives. They're college students pretending to be some kind of organized militia. I could kick their butts in a one-on-one fight. But as a group they have the power.”

  She rubbed her wrists. Her discolored bruises testified to her encounter with them.

  “It seems the Chompers have figured that out as well,” I said. “When they link hands, the Chomper Death Ray is stronger than when they're alone.”

  “That's one of the mutations,” said Mark. “Their power is stronger when they have physical contact with each other. Solidarity.”

  “I need to figure this out.” Kitty leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  I thought about Marcellius Inc. Recently there had been a huge protest in Washington against their GMO-modified food. The Marcellius plant lurked outside of town surrounded by a fence with razor wire at the top. There was no sign indicating what the factory contained. Yet everyone in town knew it was Marcellius. Encircled by corn fields as far as the eye could see, the building concealed itself from casual observers. An unpaved road added to the sense of isolation, as did its location. It was miles outside of town in the middle of nowhere.

  Unsubstantiated stories about the company proliferated. People swore that no insect or animal snacked on the Marcellius corn. Tall, pristine corn stalks stretched for miles in all directions surrounding the plant. People claimed that discarded fast food wrappers at the town dump held the bodies of many dead insects. Could these insects have died from eating the GMO food?

  People joked that the insects ate too many Smiley Meals and that's what killed them. Yet I had always heard that animals and insects don't overeat. They are programmed to eat only what they need to survive. In the wild, obese creatures don't live long.

  My he
ad started to pound and fear stabbed at my brain. I looked out the window in search of the creatures. Then I realized this headache was not the Chomper Death Ray variety. It was a normal headache. I remembered I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday before we left for the airport.

  “I need something to eat,” I said. “My head is killing me and it's not Chomper related.”

  “I have cashews in my pack,” said Mark. “Or an MRE but I recommend the cashews.”

  “What's an MRE?” I tore open the bag of nuts and shared some with him.

  “MRE stands for Meals Ready to Eat. They don't taste all that great but they're better than nothing.”

  “Does Marcellius makes them?” I asked half-jokingly.

  “God forbid. I ate them all the time while I was in the military.”

  I popped a cashew into my mouth. “There must be something the infected have in common.”

  “Or something the uninfected have in common.”

  If I thought about it too much, my head would explode off its stalk. I looked back at Kitty to offer her some cashews, but she appeared to be asleep. Her mouth was slack and her hands hung limp at her sides. I saw that her wrists were now an angry reddish-purple color. At that moment, I hated Jeremy and his followers almost as much as I hated the man who had kidnapped me as a child. I wondered if he was still rotting in prison. If there was any justice, he had transformed into a Chomper.

  We pulled up in front of Our Lady of Mercy Hospital. Would we be allowed into the emergency room flanked as it was by burly National Guard soldiers with automatic weapons?

  Kitty opened her eyes. “Are we there yet?”

  “They have orders not to let anyone in who isn't hurt,” said Mark.

  “I can pretend to be sick,” said Kitty.

  “Then that's the play.”

  We helped Kitty out of the van in view of the soldiers. She held her stomach as if she was in great pain.

  “Our friend was kidnapped and they hit her in the stomach,” I said. “She might have internal bleeding.”

  The soldiers seemed unmoved so I showed them her bruised wrists and they let us in.

  The waiting room was standing room only. Sick and injured people lay on the floor and took up almost every inch of flooring. We looked around in hopes of seeing our friends.

  “Gigi!” Rebecca ran to us followed by a handsome young man dressed like a preppy.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “You didn't make it to Austin?”

  “No. It's a long story. How's Mr Olson?”

  “I don't know. He's been in there quite awhile. Mrs. Olson is with him.” She nodded to the double doors.

  Bonnie, Dharma and Breanna came out of the ladies room and saw us standing there. We hugged each other and everyone freaked about Kitty's bruises.

  Kitty was having none of it so she changed the subject. “Where's Swagger?”

  “Men's room,” said Rebecca.

  Swagger strolled out of the facilities and walked toward us as if he didn't have a care in the world.

  “Well, well.” He ran a hand through his blue hair. “Looks like your vacation got cut short.”

  Kitty rolled her eyes.

  “You missed all the fun,” he continued. “Rebecca threw me over for this big bloke.”

  “Fill us in!” I glanced at the guy who stood next to Rebecca. He seemed protective of her.

  “You first,” she said.

  So I told them everything that had happened to us. They sympathized when they heard about our adventure. Then they offered us potato chips. We tore into the carbs and devoured the bag in seconds.

  I licked the remains of barbecue flavor off my fingers. “Now tell us what happened to Mr. Olson.”

  “Let me start at the beginning because this is also how we met Robby.” Rebecca smiled up at the big guy and he returned the smile. His face held such puppy-dog adoration for her that I almost giggled … or gagged. I couldn't decide which one was more appropriate so I did neither.

  “This morning around dawn,” she began, “the Chompers were restless and they were all over the park. Mr. Olson was on watch with Bonnie. They saw a guy in the parking garage screaming at the camera and waving his hands to get their attention. He was being chased by the monsters and they were moving faster than usual.”

  “We went downstairs to see what we could do to help him,” Bonnie continued the story. “We opened the door and by this time he was limping toward us because a Chomper had bitten him on the leg.”

  “A scratch,” said Robby. “Your friends saved my life by opening the door and letting me inside the bank. At the last minute, one of the Chompers grabbed Mr. Olson's arm and bit it. The creature took out a chunk of flesh. We couldn't stop the bleeding so we brought him here.”

  “And Robby Lytton has been with us ever since.” Rebecca's expression radiated Smitten 101. She was gaga over the guy. From what I could see, the feeling appeared to be mutual.

  Had Rebecca ever gone crazy over a cool, handsome guy that I actually liked? Through the years, most of her boyfriends had reminded me of Swagger. I scanned my memory banks for confirmation. In my mind's eye, I saw a procession of guys with nose rings, spiky hair, and no manners. They had sarcastic personalities which lacked the most basic components of mature behavior. I looked over at Robby. There was a first time for everything.

  “Thrown over for a guy named Robby,” said Swagger. “That can't be the bloke's real name. I mean how pretentious is that?”

  Kitty rolled her eyes. “I agree. Swagger is a much more unpretentious name.”

  “I took that name for me band,” he said. “Me real name is Robert.”

  We all looked at him in surprise.

  Bonnie said, “They're so short staffed it took them forever to see Mr. Olson. A nurse packed the wound but she said he needed lots of stitches.”

  I looked around the waiting room. It seemed in danger of exploding outward because of the amount of people crowded into it.

  “I'm going to volunteer,” I said. “I should be doing something to help.”

  It turned out that since I wasn't a nurse, but only a nursing student, they asked me to help check in people. Even though the Chomper Apocalypse was in full bloom, there were still forms to fill out. Information must speed down the pipeline and end up in a computer somewhere, at least until we lost electricity. Red tape never sleeps.

  As we waited for news about Mr. Olson's condition, I found myself typing form after form into the system. As I typed in the symptoms which a young boy was suffering, I had an epiphany.

  “Well, that just dills my pickle!” I said.

  “What's the matter?” The girl sitting at the desk next to mine stopped typing.

  I was silent for a beat. Then I said, “The computer froze up, but now it's working again.”

  She nodded and went back to typing.

  I hadn't told her the truth. The truth was that quite by accident, I had discovered the connection which all the infected people had in common.

  Chapter 24

  I walked over to a woman holding a sick child while she waited to see a doctor. The mom cried so fiercely I thought there must be something more than her feverish child to cause her that much pain.

  “Excuse me.” My voice was gentle as I knelt down beside her.

  She looked at me from red-rimmed, pain-filled eyes.

  “I was entering your information on the computer,” I said to her. “And I saw that your little boy has a fever. You indicated he has no seasonal allergies, is that correct?”

  She nodded as she dabbed at her eyes. “He has a fever but he has no allergies. He has never had them before.”

  Now came the hard part. “Mrs. Ramirez, I need to ask you a question. Did you lose a loved one during the crisis?”

  She nodded and cried louder. “My other son and my husband. They're dead but still alive out there somewhere.”

  “I'm so sorry.” I took her hand in mine. “Did either of them suffer from seasonal al
lergies?”

  “Yes, both of them.”

  Adrenaline shot through me, but I struggled to keep my voice calm.

  “What did they take for the problem?”

  “Marcellamine. That new antihistamine you inhale through your nose.”

  My heart beat so hard against my chest I wondered if she could hear it.

  I thanked her for her time and then moved to interview other people in the waiting room. When my interviews were complete, I found the results to be conclusive. The people who had turned into Chompers had experienced seasonal allergies. Every one of them had used the new medication Marcellamine.

  The families of people who had changed into Chompers confirmed this. Their loved ones had inhaled Marcellamine within the last thirty days. Some used it daily because of the many allergies in this part of the state. I thought about my friends, my mom, and the other parents. Texas was rampant with hay fever, mold, juniper, cedar, oak, etc, etc. Yet none of us suffered from this annoying affliction.

  As I thought about what this meant, Mr. Olson walked into the waiting room with his wife. He was smiling and I could tell he felt much better than he had after the Chomper took a bite out of his arm. Mrs. Olson looked tired but relieved. I couldn't help but return their smiles because we were alive and doing okay for the moment. I told the other workers behind the counter that my ride was leaving, but I would return to volunteer another day.

  I ran to Mark and told him what I had discovered. He looked at me for a long moment before he said, “Nope, never had any problems with allergies.”

  I would not share this information with You Tube. It was too late to do any good and I decided to keep it to myself for the time being. After all, Big Brother was always watching and I believed in Conspiracy Theories. Movies had taught me that corporations always retaliated against whistle blowers. I decided that flying under the radar was the way to handle things for the moment.

  As I looked around the hospital, I vowed that one day I would find a way to bring Marcellius Inc. to justice. Some way, some how.

 

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