He hit the gas and tore down Sutter, making a left on Grant and driving on both sides of the street, honking loudly and screaming for people to get out of the way. It was 5:15 on a Thursday afternoon in San Francisco, nine minutes past the attack, and traffic was thick and congested. He sideswiped a half-a-dozen cars making his way to California. At California, he made a left and drove halfway up on the curb, chasing pedestrians out of the way and sideswiping more cars, hearing the horns of outraged drivers.
He made a right on Stockton and hit two more cars as he tried to squeeze past congested traffic. By the time he hit Washington Street he realized the hopelessness of his venture and stopped the car on the sidewalk.
“Let’s go. We’re going to have to run from here. It’s only a block and a half to the apartment.”
They piled out and started running towards his place. A few people who had witnessed his driving started after him, yelling as he exited the vehicle, but a wave of the gun sent them scrambling for cover.
They were at his apartment within two minutes, and they ran up the small narrow stairway leading to his apartment. He went straight to the closet and opened up his weapons safe, grabbing three pistols: handing one to Jade, one to Lisa and tucking one in the back of his pants. Lisa was completely shell shocked. She took the gun and absentmindedly kept murmuring, “Nobody knows, nobody knows.”
Mace glanced at her as he grabbed boxes of ammunition and threw them in a gym bag, followed by two flash grenades. A third he clipped to his belt. “The whole city will know within a half-an-hour. We’ve got to get out of here. It’s going to be overrun.” Without diverting his eyes from the task at hand, he said to no one in particular, “Turn on the TV. Let’s find out what they know.”
He grabbed a wad of cash and threw it in the bag, then grabbed a large flashlight, spare batteries, and a case of power bars he kept on the closet shelf. “We’re going to try to make it to the Piers and get a boat out of here.” He looked at Lisa and Chelsea. “You’d better grab some of my shirts and jackets and bundle up. If we don’t make it out we’ll be fending for ourselves for awhile.”
Lisa seemed to wake from her daze. “What about the police? Can’t we just sit here and wait for them?”
Jade had turned on the TV and found a news station.
Within ten minutes of the toxins release bay area news agencies were scrambling for information and sending reporters racing to the scene, as the emergency broadcast system was being prepared to release emergency and safety information.
“…reports are coming in of a major disturbance in the Union Square and South of Market areas. A police spokesperson wouldn’t provide details, only saying that police and fire personnel are en route to the area and that further reports would be available shortly. All people are being urged to avoid the area until police get the situation under control. Channel 5 reporter Stacy Wong has just arrived at the scene. Stacy, could you provide us with a description of the disturbance?”
The news anchor stared at the camera for a second. “Stacy, are you there?”
No response.
“We seem to be having technical difficulties. Once we get Stacy on the line, we’ll update the situation immediately. We’ll stay right here until we find out the latest information.”
Mace looked at Lisa and said point blank, “That reporter’s dead and the cops will soon be as well. There won’t be anybody to help us. At least not for a while. We’re on our own.”
Lisa’s eyes were wet and she looked completely perplexed. “What are we supposed to do!!? What’s going on?!”
Mace looked from Lisa to Chelsea, who was sitting on his futon staring into space. “We’re going to get out of this. We just need to keep our heads together.”
Jade went to the window and looked outside. “Oh my God, it’s happening already.”
In the distance, she could see figures running, and being caught.
Mace shut the safe. “Time to go.”
In the back of his mind, he kept thinking about Father McCann and Jason. He’d have to find a way to get to them…somehow.
Chapter 5
The police and fire personnel who arrived first on the scene were quickly overrun, as the sheer number of infected overwhelmed the number of emergency personnel sent to handle and contain the disturbance. Cell phones and landlines proved useless as the airwaves and circuits were overloaded with calls.
On the ground in front of the news van, TV reporter Stacy Wong thrashed around violently, the pain of her dismembered arm and gouged eye overshadowed by the blinding pain and flashing images in her brain. She vomited repeatedly as she thrashed from side to side. As the blood vessels in her head exploded she grew still for a moment. Her eyes suddenly opened and she shrieked. Her rage had begun.
The infection grew exponentially like a virus in a Petri dish, and after four hours of watching it grow uncontained a joint task force of Homeland Security, CDC and USAMRIID would be forced to settle on three primary courses of action: The creation of a containment border to seal off the infection; the establishment of safe zones along that border where residents could go to be evacuated, interrogated and inspected; and the study of the infected to identify the toxin and search for or create possible antidotes.
The government was also looking towards military reprisals for the terrorist act and was already considering a tactical nuclear strike, as a CIA shadow group watched the situation closely in anticipation of a possible “last resort” scenario.
The Islamic fundamentalist websites were filled with bravado as jihadist’s around the world celebrated the strike on American soil. The terror alert was raised to Code Red, or Severe, and emergency response personnel from around the United States were being dispatched to outer lying areas of San Francisco in anticipation of mass fatalities and injuries. All public and government facilities were closed, and all airport and transportation systems were shut down until further notice.
Chapter 6
They hit the ground on John Street running, with Mace holding Chelsea and Jade holding the bag of provisions and ammo. They heard a loud explosion in the distance as the infected created more mayhem. They could see flames shooting out of a hotel window blocks away, followed by a second louder explosion. A piercing scream could be heard as someone burned in the flames. People were panicked and running all around them and Mace was afraid they’d get separated. Jade looked at him and seemed to read his mind. “If we get split up we’ll meet at Saint Peter and Paul!”
Saint Peter and Paul was a large, historic San Francisco Church just past Washington Square in North Beach, about six city blocks away.
Mace looked at her with worry. “Let’s just not get separated.”
Lisa was crying as she ran, shrinking from the rising mayhem and panic around them. Horns were blaring as cars stacked up and went nowhere. A driver up ahead got out of his car, opened the driver side door of the car in front of him, and started beating the person inside. She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. “Don’t lose me! God, don’t you lose me!” She grabbed Mace’s jacket from the back and held on tight.
They made it to Saint Peter and Paul and stopped to catch their breath. Mace put Chelsea down and stared at the majestic entrance to the church. He longed to go inside and be swept away by the comforting presence of Peace. He felt devoid of any spiritual guidance or feelings. He felt more like one of the walking corpses than a vessel of God, and wanted more than anything to step inside. He brushed past those feelings and analyzed their current situation.
It was utter chaos around them. They had maybe a five-minute head start on the infected, and he had no idea how many or how wide of a path they had cut. Jade was keeping it together just fine, but Lisa was falling apart. She was clutching Chelsea and weeping badly, and he wasn’t sure how much further she could go. It would be getting dark soon and if they weren’t able to find a boat, they’d be in serious trouble.
He looked at Jade and she gave him a slight smile.
“Not y
our ordinary day.”
He was taken back by her lighthearted remark, and gave an uneasy smile in return. “I’d rather be in Vegas.”
She nodded her head. “Good shows. Take in a house band or two.”
A car tried to cut through Washington Park and ran down two pedestrians before crashing into a tree. The moment was over. Mace looked at her longingly. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Mace picked up Chelsea and lifted Lisa with his other arm. Around them chaos was everywhere as people were spilling out onto the streets and running in every direction. People were screaming, some were crying and some were laughing madly. The insanity of the situation had already seemed too much for some, and they slipped inside its cover. They ran down Lombard to Stockton, where they made a left and headed towards Fisherman’s Wharf and Pier 39. Mace heard gunshots coming from somewhere around him and he ducked a little as he ran, trying to determine the location and cause.
They made a right on Beach Street and Lisa started to fall behind. “Please don’t leave me! Wait. Please!”
She was sobbing and exhausted, and Jade thought she might fall down any second. She ran back and grabbed her arm, pulling her along as they ran by the Pier 39 parking garage. Inside the garage, cars horns blared loudly as the back up to exit was at a standstill, due in part to a few accidents by panicked drivers
“We can’t stop. We’ve got to keep going. Think of Chelsea.”
They all saw the first one at the same time coming at them from the Embarcadero. It was running fast: Too fast. It was darting around as if it was high on drugs, but then they saw the eyes and face. It was shrieking and its arms were swinging wildly as it ran in their direction. Mace had Chelsea in his arms and was trying to put her down without taking his eyes off it when the gunfire erupted and he saw it jerk back and drop to the ground. He looked back to see Jade holding the gun out in front of her, a look of fierce determination on her face.
“Fuck this. We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
The figure started moving on the ground, trying to rise again, and Jade walked up and shot it two more times in the head. She stared at it for a moment, her face stretched tight with stress. “Shoot ‘em in the head. Isn’t that what they do in the movies?”
They could see the swarm approaching rapidly towards them from down the Embarcadero and Lisa started back-pedaling. “Oh my God! They’re coming, they’re coming!”
Mace turned and screamed at Lisa. “We can’t stop now! We’ve got to make it to the boats!”
They ran onto the embarcadero a hundred feet in front of the horde, watching in revulsion as an unfortunate group of innocents ran into the street behind them and were swarmed and mauled as the mob caught them. The swarm converged like rabid beasts on their prey, either tearing them to pieces with hands and teeth, or leaving enough to let the victims convulse and rise to join their ranks.
Lisa saw Doug Foss among those stricken, and her eyes bulged as she saw him attack a young woman from behind, ripping at her throat with his hands as she fell to the ground. The swarm quickly converged and the woman was no longer visible.
Once they turned the corner towards Pier 39, mayhem was everywhere as crowds of panicked people tried to escape the fearsome mob that was fast approaching. Many ran deeper into the dead end of the Pier, which would prove to have devastating consequences, as others scrambled north down the Embarcadero towards momentary safety.
Mace and his party started to race towards the Blue and Gold Fleet at Pier 41 when out of the Pier 39 parking garage a car came careening out and smashed into a man and woman sprinting from the mob, buckling them onto the hood and off the windshield, leaving them badly injured and easy prey. The car trying to get out behind it slammed into the posts of the exit as it tried to maneuver the turn too quickly and it was hit in-turn by the panicked driver trailing behind, wedging the car tight across the exit. With the exit blocked, the parking garage erupted in a cacophony of horns and screams as people rushed out of their cars to try to avoid the ensuing onslaught. The garage would be too crowded and narrow for an escape, however, and the dark night would cast an evil shadow over the parking structure as it claimed hundreds more souls to its tortured ranks.
The car that had hit the pedestrians lost control and raced across the street, jumping a curb and crashing into the front of the Wipeout Bar & Grill. The occupants jumped out and started running down the Pier, and Mace yelled for everyone to get in the car and lock the doors. They got in and hit the door locks just as the first of the infected slammed against the car. Lisa screamed as they clawed at her window and she squirmed across the back seat, pressing Chelsea against the opposite door.
Mace jerked the car into reverse and plowed into the swarm, and as he switched it into drive, some of the infected dove onto the car while others continued on down the Embarcadero and onto the Pier, raging after fleeing quarry. Those who remained clawed at the glass and screamed with an ungodly roar.
Mace tried to drive out of their grasp, but their numbers rose with each passing second. They raged to get inside the vehicle, bouncing it from side to side. Jade pulled out her gun and shot through the windshield at an infected on the hood, and it sent shrieks of madness through the crowd as they clawed harder to get at them. Jade looked at the bullet hole and the spider web of cracks the shot created, and began to panic as she realized that gunshots might hasten their demise as they weakened their small fortress of separation.
Mace revved the engine forward then slammed on the brakes, knocking another infected off the hood as Lisa screamed in panic from the back. She twisted around to see an army of red-eyed demons staring at her as they wrenched on the door handles and ripped at the glass and metal. Chelsea sat next to her, staring blankly at the back of the seat in front of her, as inches away the infected fought wildly to get inside.
Mace punched it again and the car made progress forward as it bounced from side to side. He yelled out “Shoot the motherfuckers!” as he kept trying to get loose of the grip of the crowd.
Doug Foss rammed his bloody face against the back side window, and Lisa felt a surge of emotion as fear, anger and panic collided and she raised her gun and pulled the trigger, shattering the back side window and blowing off a piece of Doug Foss’s head.
“Fuck you!” she screamed in indignation as she pulled the trigger again and again, firing wildly into the swarming crowd. Jade was screaming from the front seat for Mace to go, knowing that without the protection of the windows the infected would get inside.
As hands and arms were thrust inside the back seat in search of fresh meat, Mace held the brakes as he revved the engine full blast. Lisa screamed and jumped back as manic fingers reached for her and the tires smoked and spun until Mace released the brakes and sent the car lunging forward out of the grasp of the impending slaughter.
Lisa could hear bones cracking as arms were whipped out of the moving car, and they screeched off down the embarcadero dragging an infected under the car until Mace hit a curb and it was ripped from the undercarriage and tumbled into a pile of diseased and wasted flesh.
As they raced further down the embarcadero, the streets were eerily quiet as hordes of convulsing members gathered strength in darkened corners while those still untouched searched in desperation for someplace, anyplace, to withstand the storm.
With an unstoppable mob of raging infected behind them and a panicked city of tourists and residents in front, they drove off into the growing darkness. They hadn’t yet noticed that the low gas light was on.
Chapter 7
Father McCann knelt at his bedside saying his evening prayers. He lived on the second floor of St. Boniface’s rectory, in a small uncluttered room. He’d endured a long day and wished to retire early. He’d taken a long hot shower and had shut himself off from the world. He recited the 23rd Psalm, his favorite, gazing up to heaven as he slowly spoke each word:
“The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he
leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.”
Father McCann made the sign of the cross, kissed the crucifix around his neck, and then slowly lifted his old arthritic bones off the floor. He went to the small wooden table in his room, poured himself a small shot of Whiskey, and toasted it towards heaven. “To the meek, Dear Lord, may they inherit the Earth, even as miserable as we’ve managed to make it.”
He shot it down, sat on his bed and sighed, the weary sigh of a lonely man who had dedicated his life to the service of God and others. He raised his head and tilted it slightly. “You might want to think about calling me home soon, Lord. Between the aches and the gas I’m a sight to see.” He held his stomach and a fart squeaked out his rear. He nodded towards heaven. “See what I mean?”
Downstairs he could hear the ring of the rectory bell followed by a series of loud knocks. He got an irritated look on his face and muttered to himself, “Now who the hell could that be? I was all ready for bed.”
He made his way down the stairs muttering, “I’d even finished my fucking prayers.” He walked through the rectory hall and opened the door to a near frantic man who tried to move inside the rectory as fast as possible.
Mace of the Apocalypse Page 4