The Lost and the Damned

by Dennis Liggio

  We had just barely made it around the curve in the corridor when there was an explosion behind us. We were thrown into the air and then tossed to the ground.

  I rolled over immediately, my lower back aching from where the blast impacted me. I wanted so much to just lay and relax for a minute, but that time was not available. The explosion had harmed the already fragile structure of the building. The walls were creaking, the structure shaking, fragments of ceiling were falling down. I looked over to Katie.

  “Are you okay?” I asked urgently.

  “I think so…” she said.

  “No time to rest. This whole place is coming down!”

  She pulled herself up, her eyes wide, as if just now noticing the place falling down around us. “Where are we going?”

  That was the question, really. We needed to run someplace, fast. But where? Toward the explosion site, away from the explosion site? Hide in a boarded up room? I ultimately decided to make the decision to run toward the other wing. I hoped that the other wing would far better than this wing. This was boarded up and still ruined. Maybe the other wing would not fall apart.

  We started running, dodging pieces of falling masonry. Behind me I could hear beams crashing down. Were we going to make it? I was suddenly not sure. Our already-tired muscles ached as we ran. Plaster flew into my face, blinding me until I rubbed it outside of my eyes.

  I finally saw the exit, the doorway to the corridor between wings. I felt a small amount of relief seeing it, pushing myself harder to reach it.

  There was a creaking sound from in front of us and then a large crash as the door we ran toward collapsed. Rubble and masonry rained down, first smashing the door frame and then blocking the corridor. I slowed down, stopping in front of it.

  “It’s blocked!” said Katie. “What do we do?”

  I stood there, not knowing what to do. The place was collapsing around us. I had no plans, no ideas. We couldn’t go forward and the place was crashing down around us.

  “What do we do, John?” she asked. “What do we do?”

  I looked at her, completely useless. I had no answer for her. The ceiling above us began to creak loudly.

  I said to her in a barely audible voice, “I’m sorry.”

  Katie screamed as the ceiling collapsed on us.

  It was the most selfless thing I had ever done in my life, and at the same time, the most impossible. I’m not sure how I did it, I’m not sure how I didn’t die or end up with all my bones broken.

  But I did it.

  When the ceiling fell, I stepped close to Katie, pushing her down as I shielded her with my body. I put my arms over her and hunched my back. A moment later all I knew was excruciating pain as a beam fell on my back. It should have crushed me, paralyzing me and letting all the rubble fall down on the both of us, pinning us or killing us outright. But that didn’t happen. Somehow the beam hit the sweet spot, its entire weight evenly distributed enough to not break my back. I somehow was holding up all of the rubble with my back. There was rubble all around us, so we were in a pocket of space sustained only by my pain.

  In the darkness, I heard pebbles falling and bouncing off rocks behind me, as well as my own ragged breath. I listened, waiting for more movement. I was sure something was going to shift and bring it all down on us. But that never came. After a few moments the pebbles stopped and my breathing slowed. There was silence. The pain was still enormous, but somehow I was able to sustain my position.

  I became conscious of Katie’s breathing below me.

  “Are you okay?” I forced out, gritting my teeth.

  “Are you okay?” I heard her voice say.

  “I think my back is broken,” I said.

  “Really?” she said.

  “No. Maybe. I can’t tell. Somehow I’m standing. Somehow I’m holding it all up.”

  “Wait, you’re holding everything up?” she asked.

  “Yup,” I said, my voice hissed as one of my muscles suddenly throbbed.

  “That’s fucked up,” she said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s dark,” she said glumly.

  “If you can, reach up into my jacket pocket, there’s a flashlight.”

  I felt her hand reach up and fumble around me, trying to find my pocket. I should have really enjoyed a beautiful woman fumbling around my body in the dark, but at the time all I could feel was the pain. She found the flashlight and turned it on. The light came from below her face, so she had the underlit face of a campfire storyteller.

  “Hey stranger,” she said with a weak smile.

  “Hey yourself,” I said.

  “Whoa,” she said, looking at me. “You really are holding everything up. That’s amazing.”

  “It isn’t easy.”

  “For sure,” she said. “So what now?”

  “Well,” I said, wincing again, “the way I see it, there are two options. We wait for someone to find us, or we die.”

  “That’s positive thinking for you,” she said.

  “At the moment, I’m in so much pain that I can’t really sugar-coat the truth.”

  “I understand,” she said. There was a long pause. “So do you think we’ll actually get rescued?”

  “Well, there is the Army…” I said, my voice trailing off. I remember the Army gunning down the nurse that left the hospital. Were they really here to help?

  “The Army, huh?” she said, turning the thought over in her head.

  “Oh, and there’s the possibility that the Queen of Elves will come from her magical fairyland to take us all away someplace where we’ll never die and everything will be made of ice cream.”

  “I’m glad to see that your excessive pain has had no affect on your aptitude for sarcasm,” she said.

  “You know it,” I said, hissing again from pain.

  “So what now?”

  “Waiting?” I suggested.

  “But what do we want to do while waiting?” she looked around. “I think playing ‘I Spy’ is out. Tell life stories?”

  “I’m pretty sure the pain is going to keep me from any complex thinking or soul searching,” I said.

  “I could tell you my life story,” she suggested.

  “I would love that, but again, I'm thinking I’m in too much pain to enjoy it.”

  “Then what?”

  “Sing me a song,” I said. I didn’t know how much air we had, but if we didn’t have enough for her to sing, we were pretty dead anyway.

  “I guess I could do that, my voice is kind of weak, though.”

  “I’m the only one who needs to hear it,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Okay then,” she said. “What do you want to hear?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “Hmm,” she said, taking a moment to think. “I think I have just the thing.”

  Then she began singing the old Bobby Darin hit Beyond the Sea, her voice as beautiful as I had ever heard. When she hit the part about golden sands it reminded me of my sandy beaches and it almost broke my heart.

  Sometime during her singing, I lost consciousness, the pain overtaking me. I know that I lost consciousness smiling, and that was what mattered.

  I awoke to the sounds of rubble being moved. It was dark, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was. I quickly remembered and then my heart raced, fearing that the beam was finally going to fall and crush us.

  The flashlight went back on.

  “I turned it off to save the battery,” she said. Her voice was weak.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “No idea,” she said. “Hours? An hour? When you’re cramped and barely staying alive, you lose track of time.”

  I heard more sounds of shifting rubble. This time it sounded much closer.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve been hearing it from far off for a while. It’s getting closer.” We heard another shift of rubble much closer to us. I thought I could hear a voice, but
I wasn’t sure if it was just wishful thinking.

  “Rescue?” I suggested.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “Do you have enough strength to start yelling?” I asked.

  “Screaming good enough?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  I winced as her high pitched scream pierced my ears. I only hoped that would also pierce the ears of anyone nearby.

  When Katie took a breath between screams, I heard a bunch of small noises – footsteps on rubble? She screamed again and that was all I could hear. Finally she stopped screaming and I could hear rubble shifting right next to us. And then to our left.

  “We’re here! We’re here!” I shouted.

  “Over here!” shouted Katie.

  I was close to losing consciousness again, but I was elated to hear the rubble being moved all around us. I closed my eyes, trying to stop tears of pain and stay awake. I just had to hold on.

  Finally I felt the beam moved off my shoulders and I straightened up, opening my eyes as Katie suddenly clung to me more tightly.

  I looked around and found that we stood in a circle of Army soldiers, all pointing their assault rifles at us. I was close enough to see down the barrel of each gun. I took a deep breath.

  “It will be all right, Katie,” I said, “It will be all right.”

  Eighteen

  An hour later I sat on an ambulance gurney. Flashing red and blue lights pierced the night as rescue personnel ran all over the place, trying to make sense of everything. The Army had receded, leaving just key members, their massive force no longer around to make people nervous.

  As soon as the Army freed us from the rubble, Katie was taken away by her corporate handlers. It was a massive group of men in suits acting as a buffer between her and any type of Army or emergency personnel. I could see them across the clearing of ambulances where they had her cloistered away, an obvious executive berating her like a child.

  A call through my now-working cell phone alerted me to their presence. When I had called Morty, telling her that I found her right before I entered the hospital, he called Intersperse Records. Then when local emergencies mentioned the same location, they dispatched their whole team of handlers. Even if she wasn’t here, they weren’t going to take the chance of losing her to the emergency.

  So what was the emergency? Army, medical, police, and FBI all wanted to know that as well. I was questioned by a long succession of people. They all wanted to know what I saw, why I was here, etc. After all that I saw, I kept it simple. Nothing strange, nothing extravagant. I had located Katie and came to find her. I was in the hospital visiting with her when there was some sort of gas leak and explosion. Then we nearly got killed in a second explosion before being found. Nothing strange, sir.

  Their reaction was more interesting. Once it had gotten up to the federal level of men in black suits, they were more concerned with telling me what I saw. I was told absolutely and unequivocally there is no Sommersfield, there never was a Sommersfield. The town of Sommersfield was simply a rumor cooked up by some troublemakers. I nodded along with them. It seemed the truth had some pretty big enemies.

  After that I was left alone to be bandaged up. They couldn’t give me enough painkillers for my back, but I was happy to find out that my back was not broken. I would recover. I might need physical training and I’d have pain for a few months, but I would recover.

  I talked on the phone with Morty for a while. He confirmed that I would be receiving my fee soon; the corporate brass at Intersperse had already called him to let him know how happy they were with the job. I’m sure that she was going to be more trouble than a Katie-look-alike, but hey, maybe they could get more albums out of her this way. I rubbed my eyes. I didn’t want to deal with corporate security, but I wanted to see her again. I just didn’t think that was happening.

  I leaned back on the gurney. It had been a hell of a day. I’m not sure if I believed everything that had happened. I’m not sure anyone would believe me. The story I would tell would leave them suggesting that I should be checked into the hospital as a patient. I put it aside. Some things you’ll never get to tell. Some things would only be accepted as fiction.

  I was woken out of my reverie by my name being called. It got closer. I opened my eyes and sat up just a moment before a beautiful Katie leapt into my arms. I began to say something, but it was smothered by the immediate kiss she gave me. I had been kissed before, but it never had been like this. Of all the kisses I had in my life, this was the most perfect. Not perfect technique. This was sloppy, urgent, indulgent. She kissed like this was the last kiss she’d ever have, and I kissed back like I would never get the chance again. Maybe that was true. All I knew was after a timeless moment that was over too quickly, she pulled away, her beautiful eyes watching me, a satisfied smile on her face.

  Then she ran back to her corporate handlers, appearing to receive yet another lecture for taking even a moment to talk to me. They led her to an expensive luxury car before driving off. I watched the car as long as I could before it disappeared down the hill and past smoking ruins.

  I sat back with a satisfied smile, for just a brief moment acknowledging something that I would not admit to myself later. Something I would admit only in the darkest nights when I was the loneliest. On the most dangerous of jobs I might acknowledge it, when my life would be in danger it might pass through my mind. It was something that I knew was true but I would wish wasn’t. I might deny it and never admit it, but at this moment, I knew it was very true and I didn’t try to hide it.

  I am in love with her.

  About the Author

  Dennis Liggio is the author of eight books, including the Damned Lies series, The Lost and the Damned, and the novella Cthulhu, Private Investigator. He is a veteran of the game industry, enjoys long walks on the beach while thumbing through tomes of unspeakable evil, and rumor has it that if you say his name three times in front of a mirror at midnight he will appear and give you Hostess Fruit Pies. He writes primarily in the genres of geeky absurdist humor, horror, and urban fantasy. He lives in Austin, Texas with his wife and two furry monsters.

  www.dennisliggio.com

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  Books by Dennis Liggio

  Voices of Madness

  WHAT IF GOD WENT MAD?

  Compelled by screaming voices, sorcerer William Drake travels across America in a desperate attempt to resurrect a god. His activities disrupt the lives of four unlikely heroes - an armchair occultist, a Taoist exorcist, a college dropout, and a punk rock musician - who band together in an awkward alliance to thwart his plan.

  Will they stop him in time? Or will the voices succeed in compelling their puppet Drake to do the unthinkable?

  Find out in this standalone prequel to The Lost and the Damned!

  Cowards and Killers

  "In the end, most of humanity are one of two things: cowards or killers."

  When Michael died, there was no eternal rest waiting for him. He woke up in his own bed and started receiving calls from a mysterious voice. That voice has a deal for him: become their assassin and kill the targets they ask him to. Refuse and they'll remove the power that keeps him in the world... and he'll go straight to Hell, as was intended after he died.

  He accepts their deal but never stops hating himself for accepting. In a black suit that conceals his identity and a black gun that never runs out of bullets, he kills when they tell him to do. However, he is not alone; there are other agents with the same dilemma. They all get calls from the voice and must kill their targets before the timer winds down.

  But Michael won't accept his fate. Together with another agent, he plots to rebel against the voice and the deal. But can they really fight against their fate when the voice holds all the cards? With each kill, their humanity is slipping away. Is there a way to escape this dilemma, or do all roads lead to Hell?

  I Kill Monsters - C
oming Soon!

  Mikkel and Szandor kill monsters. They're not government funded, they're not from a time-honored lineage of hunters, nor are they rich kids with lots of toys. They're two twenty-something brothers from the poor side of town who have taken it on themselves to rid the streets and underground of creatures who would prey on the innocent. Donning gas masks and using makeshift weaponry, they delve into the labyrinthine sewer system of New Avalon to grapple with snarling zombies, flesh-eating ghouls, insectoid hive creatures, and more. It's a dirty job and it rarely pays, but someone has to do it.

  Hired by a woman from the rich side of town who believes she's being stalked by monsters, the two brothers think they've finally gotten an easy job that will pay well. But as they follow the clues, things are not adding up. Kidnappings, jackbooted commandos, and mysterious emails are just the beginning. Soon they find themselves involved in something bigger than monsters. It's anybody's guess whether they'll come through it alive, much less get paid.

  I Kill Monsters is an exciting punk rock urban fantasy for those who enjoy their protagonists with a mouth on them and a weapon in their hands.

  Damned Lies

  Damned Lies is the true story of things that never happened. It is a fictional memoir of fantastic events. It is a chronicle of self-cloning, of adventure, of magic, of bare-fisted hobo boxing tournaments, of zombies, and more. It's the autobiography of a wild summer adventure out beyond the fields we know. It's the secret of what's hidden in a government bunker, it's the story of helping a nun with a crossbow hunt a vampire, it's the explanation of why you can't have that death ray you really wanted. It's a cautionary tale of just why cloning yourself is a really terrible idea.

  Damned Lies is a big fish story for those who don't fish. It's a shaggy dog story for cat lovers. It's the scifi fantasy humor memoir we'll all wish we dictated on our deathbed. It's why we can't have nice things.