Khalid, however, was not on a mission of love. The flowers and balloon were not sentimental objects purchased for a night of lovemaking and romance, but cold instruments designed for large scale destruction and death.
With each bump and rattle Khalid grew more nervous and proud. He would be remembered for all eternity for this sacrifice. He studied the map on the wall and began counting down stations: Four to go. As the train pulled away from each station he felt his pulse race a little faster.
As the doors finally closed at the Montgomery Street Station and the train began to move, Khalid was shocked by the fear and nervousness that suddenly gripped him. The next stop was Powell. This was it. There was no turning back. When the conductor’s voice came over the PA announcing the Powell Street station as the next stop, Khalid stiffened up. Loco had it right.
Dropping the vase, Khalid eyed Loco for the first time as the glass shattered on the floor. As passengers jumped in surprise around him, Khalid placed his right hand inside his suit pocket, pulling out a box cutter knife.
Loco immediately rose to his feet, triumphant in his assessment, reaching for the butterfly knife in his own leather jacket. Khalid’s eyes grew wide as he raised the box cutter, yelling “Allah be praised!”
Loco, never hesitant in battle, jumped towards him and thrust the 5-inch blade deep into his side. Khalid jerked as he slashed at the balloon and a small powdery cloud dispersed as Loco stabbed him again. Khalid stared at him, wide-eyed, in disbelief, as silent as the powdery cloud of death that now rose throughout the train, and Loco, suddenly terrified of what the powdered substance could do, stabbed him again and again and again in a rage of frustration.
At first, the shouts and screams on the train had to do with the extreme act of violence, but within seconds the screams turned to something else, something primal, as the tiny particles were inhaled and absorbed by its first victims, who gripped their heads as if millions of needles of fire had just been thrust into their skulls.
Loco, standing over the corpse of Khalid, thought for a brief moment he’d be recognized as a hero for his bravery and action. Maybe they’d give him a key to the city, or at least let him off parole early. A burning in his eyes quickly disrupted his thoughts: Starting as a mild irritation, it escalated into a full forced inferno within a matter of seconds. It felt like his eyes were being consumed by fire.
He dropped the knife, clutching his head, as if holding it could somehow stop the pain. The burning spread up into his skull and he screamed as it grew in intensity. The needles of fire seemed to dig into his brain matter, and his thoughts became wild and incoherent. He flailed his arms out, seeking to grab hold of something that would lessen the pain. He threw his head back in despair and spewed vomit. His body convulsed violently as the pain throbbed to delirious levels. He gagged and choked on his vomit only to spew volumes more. He no longer knew who he was. He was lost in a psychosis of torment that ripped from him his identity and brain function. He screamed and tore at his hair, trying to rip it from his skull by the roots.
With a blinding explosion, the blood vessels burst in his brain like the finale of a fireworks show. Collapsing to the ground, Loco twitched several times as the lights went out.
There would be no peace in death.
At the moment of flat-line, the toxin rapid-fired neurons to the amygdale in his medial temporal lobe, radically increasing his emotional response to outside stimuli and making him extremely unstable and dangerous. Devastating Loco’s frontal lobe function except for the basal ganglia, his brain function was now primal, controlled by a foreign life substance that was radically altered by the original toxin. He was no longer technically alive. His heart function had ceased.
The alien proteins surged through his dying cells, controlling his nervous system like a parasite. His motor skills were no longer limited by his physical heath: They were controlled and operated by the power of the toxin, lighting him up like a Christmas tree. The anterior chambers and vitreous of his eyes flooded with blood, and the optical nerves were damaged by the increased blood flow, making them increasingly hyper-sensitive to light: the only part of his being where chemical messages and nerve endings were still functional and feeling.
Loco’s eyes snapped open. Shrieking in fury, he clawed at the floor, his teeth cracking as his jaw clamped down with rage. The frenzy emanated from every pore in his body. It was all he was. He was so incredibly alive with hate. He needed to kill: Immediately. Not just kill, but absolutely devastate, mutilate, devour, destroy. He shrieked again in madness at the power of his rage.
As the train car prepared to enter the station, over a hundred souls from the train shook violently with anticipated fury. Life was about to be changed forever. The fury of hell was about to be released. The train pulled into the station.
*****
Mace and Jade reached Market Street and ran haphazardly down the stairs to the underground BART station. They rushed towards the escalators and Mace pointed to the station booth as they reached the turnstile. “Take care of it!” he yelled as he jumped over the turnstile and ran towards the escalator. Jade intercepted the station guard who darted out of the booth in pursuit.
Once Mace reached the bottom of the escalator, he started scanning the crowd for Ray Faranello’s purple Mohawk. It was rush hour and the station was overflowing. He could hear the train’s horn as it approached the station and he knew he’d lose Ray if he made it onto one of the cars. He started pushing his way towards the center of the station when he spotted Ray out of the corner of his eye. He made a beeline towards him, forcing his way through the crowd. He wasn’t more than twenty feet away when the train pulled into the station. An audible gasp could be heard as the train passed by the crowd and slowed down to stop. Blood and vomit dripped from the inside of the windows, and the people onboard looked disfigured and wild. Their eyes were deep pools of red.
People started backing away and a few fell down as the crowd surged back. Screams starting erupting from those closest to the train and those closest to the exits started running up the escalators and stairs, not sure what was going on.
Mace was so focused on Ray he hadn’t comprehended the situation yet. He could see Ray and all those around him start rushing backward, fear transforming their features. As the train doors opened, the screaming grew in intensity as the carnage became more visible. The victims on the trains spilled out, charging at the crowd inside the station. Panic set in as they attacked those closest to them.
Mace watched as two of the train victims grabbed a hold of Ray. Blood spurt as one of them clawed their hands into his face. The other bit down into his shoulder and Mace could actually see a large chunk of flesh torn out. He took a few steps back in disbelief, being hit hard in the side by a rush of fleeing people. He was knocked to the ground and struggled to get up before being trampled. The shouting around him was deafening and every time he attempted to get up, people fleeing the scene knocked him down again.
Upstairs, Jade could hear the volume of screaming rise as people rushed up the escalators and stairs. People ran by her in hysteria, and she barely got out of the way before being knocked down herself. The looks in their eyes was of sheer terror, and she shuddered with a twinge of panic. Her heart raced as she scanned for Mace through the petrified crowd. The station guard tried to stop a man to find out what was going on but was leveled as the man refused to slow down or explain.
*****
Lisa was caught in the rush of people exiting the station. She had just come down the escalator with Chelsea and was heading towards the train platform when the screaming began. She couldn’t see what was happening, but was almost knocked to the ground by the surge of the crowd fleeing. Chelsea’s hand was ripped out of hers and in order not to fall; she was forced to move with the flow of people, only to end up on the opposite escalator. She yelled for Chelsea but couldn’t see her in the mad rush of the crowd.
As the escalator continued upwards, she watched as people were trampled
trying to flee up the stairs. She tried to climb over the escalator railing to head back down the stairs but was pinned by the force of the crowd. She screamed as she tried to wriggle loose and was struck in the face by someone trying to move past her. Her knee hit the hard escalator step and in a panic, she clawed at anything around her to keep from being crushed. The escalator hit the top of the platform and she spilled off, trying to maintain her balance and being forced in the opposite direction of her daughter.
She was caught in a wave of panicked humanity and was being swept away by the force of its movement. As she realized she wouldn’t be able to find Chelsea, she put her hands to her head and screamed.
*****
Mace was finally able to rise to his feet and as he did so, he looked out at a swarm of wailing, infected bodies. They were all around him and moving towards him. They weren’t yet running, but moving at a fast pace. People were flopping around violently on the floor, vomiting intensely one minute and then rising to their feet, tearing at their clothes in a rage the next. Their eyes were deep red and their faces were twisted in grimaces of pain and horror.
Mace’s heart beat wildly as he looked in alarm all around him. Bolting towards the stairs, he passed several trampled bodies. He scooped up a screaming child no older than three who was standing alone at the bottom of the stairs, crying and looking frantically for her mother.
As he ran up the stairs, an old woman, curled up in a fetal position, whimpered. He stopped and yelled at her, reaching out his hand. “We’ve got to go now! They’re coming!” The old woman curled further into herself and sobbed.
The child in his arms started squirming and shrieking as the infected started up the stairs. There were hundreds of them coming swiftly, and their moans echoed throughout the station.
He grabbed the old woman’s arm and tried to pull her up, but she pulled back from him and tried to hide her face in her hands. Mace yelled at her. “Get up! You’ve got to get up now!”
The child screamed and tried to climb out of his grip as they closed in on them from the stairs. Mace looked back and a cold sweat flashed across him. Ray Farinello was among those coming towards him. The flesh on his cheeks was ripped open and hanging. His mouth hung wide open and low, and his eyes stared out lifelessly, filled with blood and crimson red. Barely holding on to the child, Mace tried to grab the woman once more. “Get up! Come on! We’ve got to go!”
She pulled back again, petrified with fear. They were almost on him now, screaming at the thought of having him. He shouted in fear and frustration, jumping away and running up the stairs as fast as he could. His body quivered from being in such close proximity to the hands of death. As he ran up the stairs, he covered the eyes of the child. “Don’t look back.” He could hear the heartbreaking cries of the old woman as the mob stopped, ripping into her with savagery.
The crowd had thinned out enough for Jade to make it to the top of the stairs, where she found Mace bounding up them carrying a small child. What she saw below sent chills rippling through her spine. A climbing mass of bloodied, raging corpses moving quickly towards them: Their faces filled with hate, their eyes filled with blood.
“Oh my God!!”
The sight of the horde sent her scrambling backwards and she tripped over her own feet. In a panic, she scrambled to upright herself, never taking her eyes of the approaching threat. “What do we do!? What do we do!?”
She turned towards Mace with a pleading, desperate look. She couldn’t believe how calm he looked as he yelled out “Run, Damn it! Run and don’t stop!”
Chapter 4
The toxin had claimed over three hundred victims within six minutes of being released, and as the horde moved onto Market Street, it would infect and devour thousands more as the hours passed. In the soft breeze of a warm, San Francisco afternoon, a malevolent parasite sought to destroy the very structure of humanity. Created with evil intentions, the darkest night of mankind had arrived, bringing with it horror, death, and decay beyond all measure.
Once they reached Market Street, chaos was evident everywhere. The people who had run out of the BART station had done so in a mass panic and a few had run blindly into oncoming traffic, being knocked down or killed by passing cars. Traffic was at a standstill and the huge line of people waiting at the Cable Car turnaround on Powell Street were either watching in disbelief and morbid curiosity, or moving quickly away from the line, ready to be upset if they discovered they had lost their place for nothing.
Instead of chasing people away, the catastrophe seemed to be drawing more near, as people milled about to see what was happening. Sirens could be heard as police, ambulance and fire crews were making their way to the scene, unaware at first of anything besides the pedestrian fatalities and accidents.
*****
When Mace first hit the street and saw the crowd milling around he felt safer for a fraction of a second, until he turned to see the infected right behind him ascending the stairs. He felt like he was in some psychedelic nightmare from which he couldn’t wake. He grabbed Jade by the arm as he held the child in the other and they started running down Market Street towards Stockton. He knew that trying to persuade the crowd to run would be useless until they witnessed the nightmare for themselves. From behind him, he heard a frantic scream as a woman came rushing up behind him.
“My baby! You have my baby!” Lisa sobbed uncontrollably as Mace turned around. She grabbed Chelsea from his arm and clutched her to her breast. “Thank you, Oh my God, thank you! I couldn’t find her!” She dropped to one knee, still holding Chelsea tight and kissing her cheek repeatedly.
Mace put his hand under her shoulder and lifted her. “You need to come with us. It’s going to get bad.”
She looked around nervously, trembling. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We need to go now!”
The thought of losing her daughter at the BART station had scared her more than the panic on the station platform. She had seen a glimpse of the infected on the platform, but hadn’t fully realized the enormity or been sufficiently chilled by the event that had just transpired. They heard the horrific roar of madness as the first infected topped the stairs, and that instantly changed.
She turned for a second to see people running in all directions as the infected exploded in rage. She screamed as they ran up to a vehicle stopped in the middle of the street, reached through the open driver’s side window, and violently grabbed at the woman driver’s face and hair. They savagely wrenched and yanked at her, dragging her through the window, breaking her neck and limbs as they completed their task. Her body crumpled to the ground and they toppled on top of it.
Many people rushed into stores and hotels seeking to hide from the onslaught, but their logic proved fatal, as the indoor facilities became breeding grounds for ungodly infestation. The undead crashed through windows and doors, ravaging and slaughtering the innocent with blood thirsty and ruthless efficiency.
911 calls flooded the circuits and emergency personnel realized almost immediately that a serious attack was under way. By the irrational accounts of the callers, the operators thought there had most likely been a chemical or biological agent released resulting in mass hallucinations or psychosis. First responders who included local police, firefighters, and emergency medical teams quickly prepared to depart, and calls were made to local hospitals informing them of a possible influx of victims. As more frantic calls came in and the seriousness of the situation rose, calls were made to the governor.
Within the hour, calls were being placed to Washington DC, the CDC, the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute for Infectious Diseases (USAMRIID) and the Chemical/Biological Incident Response Force (CBIRF). The outside agencies could be deployed and active within five hours, if everything ran smoothly. The city had run drills and planned for a worst case scenario involving biological or chemical agents, but because of the swift and lethal characteristics of the genetically engineered contagion, their efforts would prove highly ineffective to h
alt the progress of the infection.
*****
Mace and the others ran in a panic, turning up Stockton and heading for Mace’s apartment approximately twelve blocks away on John Street in the heart of Chinatown. He pulled his 9mm out of its holster and checked the chamber, even though he knew it was fully loaded. He knew that using it earlier would have been a waste of ammunition, although he doubted he had enough to survive the night anyway.
Lisa, their traveling companion, had never stopped trembling and she kept darting around expecting to see disfigured creatures chasing them down. She held Chelsea’s hand tightly, who had to run just to keep up. Chelsea never spoke a word, but just looked straight ahead, lost to reality by the explosion of violence.
Mace spotted a Land Rover parked across the street near the corner of Stockton and Sutter on Sutter Street. He quickly darted across the street, pulling his gun out once again. He grabbed it by the muzzle, using the butt to smash in the window. He turned towards his small party.
“Get in.”
He went to work on the ignition wires and had it fired up within a minute, a misspent youth providing him with skills that proved useful. A few people gathered down the street to watch, but nobody did anything. One of them tried to call 911 but found all circuits busy. Mace looked at them as he pulled out of the spot and almost said something, but knew just how absurd it would sound.
Mace of the Apocalypse Page 3