Instead of abusing his body the way so many others did, he’d dedicated his life to physical perfection. The Agent leaders had shown him a better way. Humanity was overdue for a cleansing, and only the strongest would survive.
He reached between the seats and retrieved a bottle of water that he had stored there. He twisted off the cap and drank from it. At home, he had several storerooms full of food and drink—enough to last him a year or so, he figured. Plenty of time to outlast the infection.
The Agent leaders had warned him before the contamination was to begin. He’d been prepared. A few weeks prior, he’d received the text message. It was one he’d been waiting on for five years.
It has begun.
Since then, he’d been watching, waiting for the first signs.
Each year, around this time, he received a package in the mail containing a new cellphone. He would carefully discard the old one and destroy the envelope it had come in. Updates had been few and far between, but he’d been kept informed.
Now, he was using the phone to report the progress in St. Matthews. Due to the town’s small size and remote location, Howard guessed it was one of the first to be infected. A trial run for what was to come.
The information Howard had was limited. He’d been told that the virus would start with the food and water supply, and that he should avoid anything produced after a certain date. But he also knew that the Agents had infiltrated numerous sectors of society—there were plenty of other ways to spread the disease. According to the leaders, he would be briefed as necessary. His survival had been guaranteed. When he was certain everything was progressing as planned, he would retreat back to his house—to wait until the infection had run its course.
The world needed a change. Humanity had abused the earth, destroying their bodies and the environment, succumbing to selfishness and materialism. He had seen everything clearly when his mother died. He had changed his own ways. He had given up his vices.
It was too bad others couldn’t see the same thing—that they couldn’t realize the flaws in their existence. Now they would suffer the ultimate consequence.
He felt honored to be a part of the first phase. Someday, he might be remembered for being one of the pioneers of the new world.
“Howard?” the girl called out from the backseat.
He sat upright, replacing the water bottle.
“What do you want?”
“Can I get out now? You can drop me off here. I’ll be fine.”
“I can’t do that,” he said. “I have to take you back to your father, at the station.”
The girl hugged her arms across her chest.
“Does he even know I’m here?”
“Yes,” Howard lied.
He could tell she didn’t believe him. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.
They were just a few blocks from the station. Howard noticed a few shadows at the side of the road. The cruiser’s headlights revealed two creatures picking away at a carcass. They looked up at the passing vehicle and took a few steps toward it as he drove by.
“Not tonight,” he muttered.
A few seconds later, Howard pulled into the station. The parking lot was empty. He parked the cruiser and opened the back door, motioning for the girl to get out. She slid out of the backseat and onto the pavement, her eyes darting around the lot. He grabbed her arm and led her to the front door of the station.
The building appeared intact. He unlocked the door, pulled the girl inside, and then locked it behind them.
“This way,” he said.
He led her down the corridor toward the jail cell. For a second, he envisioned Frank’s body inside, still covered in the blue blanket. The cell had since been cleaned, but he could make out a small red stain underneath the bench, and he grimaced. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, its hinges groaning in protest.
“Inside.”
The girl looked at him and began to cry.
“I don’t want to go in there, Howard.”
She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. He relaxed his grip on her arm, and then felt her slip through his fingers. She ran for the door.
Howard lunged after her, catching hold of her shirt and pulling her backwards. She flailed in his arms, screaming. He threw her into the cell, locked the door, and headed for the corridor.
Then he took out his cellphone.
17
Dan turned off his lights as he pulled into the police station. He was still reeling from what he had heard. Mickey’s voice played over and over in his head.
“Don’t trust him, Dan.”
He had tried calling the officer back several times, but the call had gone to voicemail. What had Mickey meant? In the midst of what was going on, the cryptic warning sent a shiver of fear through Dan’s body. Howard had been his closest friend on the force for five years. What ill intent could he possibly have?
At the same time, he also felt a sense of relief. From the sounds of it, his daughter was alive. He just needed to get to her as soon as possible.
A single cruiser sat in the police station lot. Dan eyed the license plate, confirming that it was Howard’s. He parked his car and shut off the engine. The lights were on in the station, but the painted glass windows blocked his view of the inside. As he stepped outside the vehicle, he remembered there were cameras in the parking lot. He hoped Howard wasn’t watching them.
He felt for his gun, which was still in its holster. Without bullets, it would be next to useless in the event of an attack. He needed more ammunition.
Dan drew the weapon anyway and crept across the open parking lot. He stopped briefly at Howard’s cruiser, peering inside. A few bottles of water and some wrappers lay on the passenger seat. To his surprise, the doors were unlocked, as if Howard had been in a hurry. He opened the door and looked inside. Between the seats was a police baton. Better than nothing, he thought to himself. He gently closed the door.
He crossed the rest of the lot to the front door and tugged at the handle. It was locked. He inserted his key and opened the station. Once inside, he scanned the parking lot for the creatures, and then locked the door behind him.
The front corridor was empty. To his left was the door to the locker room. To his right, he saw the door to the main office. There were two other doors— one to the supply room and one to the janitor’s closet. The entrance to the jail cell was at the opposite end. He heard voices. One of them grew louder as he approached.
“Howard, please let me out!”
It was Quinn. Had Howard locked her in the jail cell?
Dan began to shake. He felt the urge to dart down the hall, throw open the door at the end, and help her. But he needed to be cautious. Their lives depended on it.
His mind raced. How could Howard have turned on him? The man had stood by his side for years, had always proved himself to be a trustworthy ally. Hell, he’d even eaten meals with Dan’s family, had given his daughter gifts for her birthday. Was he infected like the rest of them? Why else would he do this?
The thought made him sick.
Dan heard movement from behind the door up ahead. It sounded like someone was getting ready to exit. He hugged the left side of the corridor, and then ducked into the locker room, gripping the baton to his chest.
He heard the door creak open in the corridor, and then footsteps echoing off the walls.
“Howard, please! Don’t leave me in here!” Quinn yelled.
The door slammed shut. Dan held his breath, listening to the man approach. Howard couldn’t be more than ten feet away, on the other side of the locker room wall. Dan pressed his cheek against a row of lockers, the metal cold against his cheek.
The footsteps ceased. The echoes tapered off, and the station fell silent.
Had he been spott
ed on the cameras? Was Howard aware that he was in the station—maybe even aware of his location in the locker room?
Inside the lockers, just inches away, were spare weapons, as well as ammunition. He could make a move for them, but Howard would be on him before he could use the keys. Silence permeated the station, and he felt his heart thudding in his chest.
Something vibrated in his pocket, and then Dan’s cellphone began to ring.
Shit, he thought.
The tone echoed through the locker room and beyond, betraying any cover he may have had. He slipped the phone out of his pocket, hitting the silent button and looking at the faceplate.
It was Howard placing the call.
The footsteps in the hallway resumed, this time headed right for the locker room.
“Dan?” Howard’s voice echoed from the hallway.
Dan had slipped to the end of the lockers to the right of the entrance, wedging himself between the shelf and the wall. Howard had entered the doorway, and was now only ten feet away. Dan heard the sound of fabric creasing as the officer bent down to pick something up off the ground. He must have found my cellphone, he thought. It was a last resort. Perhaps if the officer found the phone, he’d think it had been left there.
“I know you’re in here, Dan.”
No such luck.
Dan tightened his grip on the baton, holding the base in the crook of his elbow, clinging desperately to the smooth black handle. He looked across the room. A single stall and a urinal were in the corner opposite him. Next to them was a small shower, the curtain drawn. A single wooden bench stood in the middle of the room. There were only a few places for Howard to check. Soon after he stepped into the room, Dan’s hiding place would be revealed.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” Howard yelled. He hit the side of the lockers, rattling the contents, sending vibrations through to the other end and into Dan’s cheek. “I tried to do you a favor, Dan, you know? For old time’s sake.”
Dan clenched his teeth, felt his body tighten. Howard took a few steps forward. He entered the room.
“I even found your ungrateful daughter.”
Dan had had enough.
He leapt from his hiding spot toward the senior officer, swinging the baton sideways with all of his might. Howard turned in anticipation, blocking the blow with his left forearm, and then countered with a blow from his right fist. The punch connected with Dan’s ribcage, and he sprawled to the floor next to the wooden bench. He rolled underneath it to the other side, shards of pain running up his side like glass.
Howard grabbed at the underside of the bench, lifting it upwards and into the air. It collapsed on its side, striking Dan on the way down. The officer’s biceps rippled under his shirt, his face twisted in anger.
“Am I going to have to kill you myself?” he asked.
Dan glared at him from the floor, still clutching the baton. His back was pressed against the lockers, and pain shot through his body. Howard took a step towards him, straddling the overturned bench.
“Why are you doing this?” Dan wheezed.
“You’ve done this to yourselves! Every last one of you!” Howard screamed. “You deserve it!”
“You’re not making sense. What is it that we’ve done?”
Howard grunted, and then reached down to grab him. Dan swung the baton forward, connecting with Howard’s knee. Howard cried out in pain, doubling over as his leg caved inwards.
“Motherfucker!”
Dan forced himself to stand, heading around the bench and towards the exit. He heard Quinn screaming his name from down the hall.
“I’m coming!” he shouted.
He limped ahead, approaching the doorway. Behind him, Howard yelled in pain. Dan was at the doorway now, and he reached behind him to pull the door shut. I just might make it out of this alive, he thought.
The door started to swing closed, then stopped with a dull thud as it struck something behind him. Shit.
A pair of hands grabbed Dan’s shoulders, whipping him around and throwing him across the room. Dan landed on his knees, facing the shower. Howard was behind him, pulling the curtain open and forcing his head inside. He heard the officer hit the lever, heard the brief pause of water traveling through the pipe, and then felt cold water cascading out of the showerhead and onto his face.
Dan gasped for breath, liquid running up his nose and down his windpipe. Howard pushed him in further, grinding his face against the cement floor and drain, and the water started to puddle. He closed his eyes and pictured Julie’s face smiling down at him. Her lips were a soft pink, her eyes a radiant blue.
Is this how I’m going to die?
He struggled for what seemed like an eternity, arms flailing backwards, striking at Howard’s legs. The man was twice the size that he was. He was hopelessly outmatched. In the background, over the roar of the water, a noise drew him back from the depths. His daughter was still yelling his name.
Dan pictured Quinn on her own, fighting off a slew of the creatures—succumbing to a fate worse than his own. He felt his eyes well up and tear, mixing with the water that would soon drown him, and he propelled his arms backward one last time.
Without warning, Howard’s hands retracted and he was free. Dan rolled to the side, out of the shower, spitting and coughing. His hair was matted across his face, his vision blurry. He wiped the water from his eyes, trying to ascertain what had happened.
Why did he let me go?
Three large shapes stood in the room. Dan squinted, discerning Howard’s figure among them. The other two shapes were grabbing at the senior officer, and the man had begun to scream.
Dan slid along the back wall, his vision returning.
Attacking Howard were two of the creatures.
The things tore at Howard’s chest, ripping off shreds of shirt and skin. The officer was bleeding from a wound in his back, and his face was a mess of blood and fear.
Dan ran—past the creatures, past his former friend, out the door. The things paused as he flew by, but neither made a grab for him. Apparently, Howard was keeping them occupied.
He slammed the locker room door shut and held the knob. From inside, he heard Howard shrieking in pain.
Dan reached for his keys, fumbling for the one that fit the locker room door. When he found it, he inserted it into the keyhole, just as the knob started to turn.
“Dan!” a voice hissed through the door.
He stared for a moment. Howard must have somehow made it across the room, making one last play for the exit. Dan clutched the knob, listening to the sound of nails clawing at the door. He wondered briefly if the fingers belonged to the officer, or the creatures—or both.
From down the hall, his daughter was yelling his name.
Dan let go of the doorknob and started down the corridor towards the jail cell, leaving the door locked behind him.
Howard felt searing pain hit his abdomen, and then his vision blurred. He struggled to stay on his feet, but the creatures pulled him down to the floor.
This isn’t supposed to happen, he screamed inside. I’m supposed to survive.
He replayed the last few minutes in his mind, trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. The creatures had come at him from the main office down the hall. He’d heard a crash—had seen them break through the door.
But I secured this building myself! Dan would have come in through the front entrance—not the office. This place was sealed tight!
One of the things gouged his throat, and he gasped for air.
How the fuck had they gotten in? Did someone let them inside?
Howard struggled to break free, but the creatures had him locked in their grip. His stomach felt hot and wet. He looked down in horror to find it had been ripped open. His intestines spilled
from his gut, and he collapsed to the ground. He felt his strength start to fade.
The Agent leaders, he thought. Would they have betrayed me? They’d told him to return to the station. They’d known he would be here.
His memory flitted back to one of his first conversations with them, almost six years ago. The words came slowly, and he fought to remember through the pain.
“Each one of you has a purpose. To ensure that the plan is successful, you must do what is instructed of you. Nothing more.”
Maybe his purpose had been served.
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. They must be calling—checking in on him. Making sure I’m dead…
The warm feeling in his stomach grew cold, and Howard felt his consciousness start to slip. How could they do this to me?
“I did everything you asked,” he whispered.
The creatures looked up at him, their eyes rabid, and then continued to tear him apart.
18
Three days had passed since Julie’s death.
Quinn lay curled up in a ball at Dan’s feet. Although the house had two bedrooms, she refused to sleep in them. She’d insisted on sleeping on the living room floor, in the center of the house, just a few feet from her father.
Dan smiled grimly at her, watching her chest rise and fall. In the distance, he heard a long scream—whether it was from a human or one of the creatures, he wasn’t sure. He stared across the room, to a pile of guns and ammunition that he had raided from the police station. It was nighttime, and he didn’t dare go outside to investigate. Even in the daytime, such firepower did little to quell his nerves.
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