by Hawk, J. K.
“DADDY!”
“Melissa, my baby!” I too began to sob.
“Help me, daddy!” She cried again.
“I’m trying sweetie!”
“Where’s mommy? I want my mommy!”
I couldn’t b are it any longer and reached over to shut down the electrodes, instantly silencing her wails and shutting down those unbearable tears. I didn’t look back at her innocent face, and instead stormed out of the chamber seeking to drown my emotions with mind dumbing chemicals. However, there was no alcohol to be found, I had finished it all and was only left with one last cigarette to help clear my mind.
As I inhaled the addictive pollutants, I listened to my flesh and blood growl and snarl like a caged bear. The chair she was secured to creaked and clanged as she struggled with her binds, and desperately I tried to block out the noise. My mind drifted, recalling her sweet voice as a child, singing old childhood songs, but ultimately those memories were replaced with the raspy infectious tones her mouth now produced. A tear fell from my cheek, landing upon the butt that shook violently in my hand, and extinguishing the ember with a solemn sizzle.
My daughter remained in place for hours, still bound and wired up. When I had regained my courage, and reentered the chamber with an agenda, I sat myself before her on an old metal stool. The sedatives had worn off, and Valkyrie struggled to lash out at me. But I did not inject more drugs, instead I stared into those lost eyes, wondering if Melissa was truly staring back, or if this was just the she-devil. I am unsure how long I sat there, staring and wondering before I flipped the power back on.
“DADDY!” She immediately cried again. “DON’T LEAVE ME!”
“Melissa, baby, I need you to calm down, be strong.” “I’M SO SCARED DADDY! IT HURTS SO BAD!” She
screeched in agony as I caressed her face.
“I need to ask you some questions.” I heartbreakingly said. “I
need you to be strong, can you be strong for daddy?”
“Y-yes.” She stuttered, struggling to overcome the pain. “What happened to you?” I asked.
“I – I came to find you.” The tears still rolling. “I was trapped,
and then they got me.”
I paused, breathing deep, holding on tight to my own strength. “You said it hurts. What hurts?” I asked.
“Everything.” She clamored, shuddering in pain. “It burns.
Please make it stop.” She begged.
“I know baby.” I shuttered. “I will, soon.”
“I love you, daddy!” She wailed.
“And I you.” I said, a tear escaping my iron will. “What can you
see when you’re out there?”
“Everything.” She wailed. “I see everything.” The sobs became
uncontrollable again. “I’ve done bad things, daddy, I hurt people. I
couldn’t stop it.”
“That wasn’t you baby. It wasn’t you.” I said, holding her
shoulders, trying to comfort her. “Do you have any control? How
did you get here?” I asked.
“No control – it whispers to me. I tried to ignore it, I fought to
see your face, to remember you, but it takes them away.” She pants,
gasping for breath. “Just glimpses, until now.”
Dropping my head I choked back the tears, emotionally
overwhelmed, but aware of the significance of her answers. She had
suggestive power over the virus, able to guide it with thought, even
though the drive for the infection was to seek out my living flesh. It
stood to reason that in theory if Valkyrie could be flushed from the
body, then the brain could regain complete function. Giving the fact
that there was not significant tissues decay. It may be a step in the
right direction, but one that was too distance from probability. “It hurts so bad, daddy. Please make it go away!” She begged. “I can’t.” I finally answered while leaning closer to kiss her
cheek.
“Kill me.” She whispered with a shutter, and I too began to sob
once again.
“I can find a cure, Melissa, I just need more time.” I said. “No.” She stammered. “Please daddy. Please.” She begged, and
for a moment, I could see those puppy-dog eyes she gave me many
times as a child, a gaze that could break ones heart.
My instinct was to once again shut down the current, to put my
precious daughter back into that prison of fire and hang on to her
until all my work paid off. Until I could bring her back from the
darkness. But, it was reckless, and selfishly cruel. And as I came to
acceptance, I carelessly placed my lips upon her cheeks, forehead, and lips, over and over again. I did not consider the dangers, I did not even notice the foul aroma. In my mind she smelled like the day
she was born, baby-sweet and oh so precious.
“Okay, baby girl.” I whispered in her ear.
“Where’s mommy?” She asked, but I did not know the answer. “You will be with her soon.” I said, staring back into those foggy
eyes, but only seeing her gorgeous puppy browns.
“Hold me.” She whispered.
And I did, as best I could with all of her restraints.
“I Love…” She began, but ended with the strike of my scalpel to
her brain. Quick, painless, and unaware.
After removing her body from the chair, I sat upon the floor in
anguish, cradling my baby girl for hours. My emotions teetered to
and fro. I began reciting old memories of her as a child, laughing as
if we were laughing together, and then back to mourning. When I
had overcome what I had just witnessed, I gently carried her into the
incineration room, and condemned Valkyrie back in to the pits of
hell.
Food for Thought
Eeamon woke me just before dawn, a concerned look on his face, like the devil himself had confronted him. At first he did not say a word, he knelt beside me, staring intently into the fading darkness. I too began to scan the shadowy forest, searching for the answer to the young man’s distress, but my eyes were met with spine chilling obscurity.
“What is it, Eeamon?” I whispered.
“We are being watched.” He hushed coldly.
“Prowlers?”
“Demons.” He muttered. “Like you.”
My mind begged for it to be a GFS rescue party, but I knew the
reality, Raiders. It was the last thing that we needed being so close to our objective. As the black turned to grey, I woke up Steph and we packed up our limited resources before trekking our way back onto the main road and further north. The longer we shuffled onward, the more alert Eeamon became, and the more I trembled. I was notably unarmed, aside from a pocket knife and a case of syringes, and unfortunately the young man’s rifle was a mere stone to a well-armed and immoral posse. So I kept Steph in the dark, letting her wallow in her own depression rather than instigating possibly unnecessary fear.
“Did you see how many there were?” I whisper to Eeamon. “Did not see.” He paused as he once again turned to spy on the
road behind us. “I hear d.”
“What did you hear?”
“A cough.”
There are many sounds in the forest that could be construed as a
cough; a deer’s warning, a bear or coyote, and even the Infected have been known to expel air in such a way. But those possibilities in no way eased my anxiety, for aside from the deer, the others still posed a threat. However, Eeamon has lived as a part of this wilderness, his expertise outweighs my own limited and literature guided knowledge.
“Sorry bout that.” A hoarse voice called out , thick with and English accent. “Picked up a cold.”
Eeamon stopped dead in his tracks, rifle poised and circling the perimeter as
a cloaked figure left the cover of trees and waltzed up onto the road. Slowly the individual pulled back the hood to reveal a young dark haired maiden. Her face was adorned with the scars of constant affliction, but with the eyes of a person who could still remember the old world, cautious yet fierce.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She said. “My name is Jade.”
“Who you with?” Eeamon barked.
“No one.” She said with a sullen smile. “I’m all alone.”
“Why you talk like that?”
“She’s not from around her, Eeamon.” I said as I gently pushed his gun down.
“No, I’m not.” She confirmed.
“My name is Patrick,” Iintroduced. “This is Steph, and the fierce fellow here is Eeamon.”
“I hope I am not intruding.” She said. “I’ve been following you for some time, scoping you out.”
“For what?” Steph asked.
“To see what type of people you are.” She paused, then pulled a bushel of fiddleheads from her pocket and held them out. “Hungry?”
We had only been walking for a little over an hour, but a chance for some fresh food could not be ignored. Eeamon got a small fire going, as I found some sticks to roast the foraged morsels with. Steph kept reserved, her eyes constantly upon Jade, unwilling to trust the newcomer, and rightly so. But I on the other hand was unconcerned, she was on her own, and frightened. Not to mention that she carried no weapons, at least none in sight. So casually I conversed with her, all the while munching on the smoky muckflavored vegetation.
“Where are you from, Jade?” I asked.
“St. Ives.” She said while continuously chewing. “England.”
“What brought you to our shores?” I asked, and she paused in mid chew, staring into my eyes.
“Hope.” She answered. “I was with a group, not long after the mutations. We heard that America had defeated it, so we stole a ship and sailed into New York.” She stopped to pop another fiddlehead in her mouth. “That was a mistake.”
“So you headed north?”
“Eventually. Went to D.C. first, then on to Ohio where we saw a sign that spoke of a walled off sanctuary. Turned out to be nothing more than a scared bunch of miscreants shored up within a firestation, hoping for rescue.” She paused another moment before finishing. “Then I headed North-East. On my own.”
“The others?” Iasked, but she did not answer. “How did you find us?”
“By chance.” She muttered as she spit a tough, fibrous stem from her mouth. “I took refuge in a school back a ways, saw your fire from the window.” Casually she gulped down the rest of her greens and pulled a dried and loosely rolled cigar from her pocket. The smoke was sweet and invigorating, Eastwoods, honey-berry I believe. “What’s with the native?” She asked, pointing to Eeamon.
“His story is as long as your own.” I smiled. “Longer.”
“I bet.” She muttered. “Is it just you three, or are there others?”
“Just us.” I answered.
“A Grandpa, a mute, and an aborigine.” She stated, musing herself.
“Hey!” Steph stammered.
“It’s ok, Steph, no offense taken.” I reassured her.
Jade puffed her cigar casually, glancing at each of us, scoping us out. She was calm and collected, unafraid of meeting new people, unafraid of the world. It was comforting to find someone with such presence over herself, someone who was at home in the land of the dead. In a way, it reminded me of The Survivor, no affliction, unwavering, just simply surviving. And still, the idea of her lasting so long, weaponless, pulled at my curiosity.
“So is there anyparticularreason whyyou chose to travel north?” I asked.
“The cold. It slows them down, makes it easier to survive.” She took a long drag before continuing. “I hope to reach Labrador by fall. It should stay cold enough year round to keep em at bay.”
“Not to mention lack of food.”
“I’ve made do thus far, my friend.”
“Where’s your weapon?” Eeamon asked. Jade smiled for a moment before responding.
“It’s useless carrying such unneeded weight when there are weapons all about. Sticks, rocks, and lots of bones.” She said with a chuckle.
“I find it hard to believe that you’ve lasted this long with just sticks and bones.” I mentioned. But she gave no explanation.
“Where are you headed?” She asked.
“Not much further.” I said. “Seeking out the colder regions like you.” I lied.
“Well then, maybe we should stick together.” Jade suggested. “At least till you find a place to hold up, aye?”
I smiled at her suggestion, while peering over at Eeamon who became antsier by the minute, his eyes darting from the girl, to the forest, and back again. His agitation caused me much concern, and Jade’s tone and ignorance built distrust in me. The fiddleheads were a very hospitable treat to offer a group of strangers out in the middle of nowhere. Especially for an unarmed woman so susceptible to the cruelty of men who scavenge these lands.
“No offense,” I began. “Although we appreciate that you shared your food with us, I feel best we go our separate ways.” Her eyes burned into mine.
“Offense taken, my friend.” She said coldly. “I’d say you could use a little twat, Steph looks to be closed tighter than a clam, and the boy here doesn’t seem your type.” She smiled. “I’d treat you well, cure them sagging blue balls, it would be my payment to travel with you.” Her offers was both crude and malicious.
“There is no need for that.” I said.
“No? Are you a eunuch?”
I didn’t answer. I stared into her misleading eyes as she scowled back at me. A queer smirk spread across her face as she continued to puff away on her stogie, seemingly enjoy the perplexed look that I conveyed. Where do we go from here? Although she was harmless enough, aside from her curt tones, it would be difficult to stop her from following us. Her true intentions were unknown, that is, until Eeamon slowly rose to his feet.
“Satisfied?” a stern voice called out from the forest.
“I believed they are stuffed.” Jade called back, just before twelve or so men exited the dense tree lines from either side of the road. A raggedy bunch of thugs, adorn in stolen yet tattered clothes and trinkets, not to mention their own mobile armory. Blades of all varieties, sub-machine guns, pistols, shotguns, and one man with a rocket propelled grenade launcher strapped securely to his back. Outnumbered and outgunned, it was the overdue end to my mission. Eeamon raised his rifle, a salute to the final chapter of mankind.
“Tell your cub to lay down his weapon.” The man urged me.
“What do you want?” I stammered as I rose to my feet.
“First things first… Weapons.” He retorted.
I gazed over at Eeamon’s pale face and nodded for him to drop the gun. At first hesitant, he conceded and laid the rifle down upon the crumbled blacktop. Although he was generally bullheaded, the young boy was smart enough to see a no win situation. And without pause one of our captors, a pudgy old man, rushed in and snatched it up, walking back to his comrades while shining a gloating smile upon his new toy.
“That is the only weapon I’ve seen.” Jade said as she approached what I assume was their leader. “But the old geezer as a full pack, I’m sure you will find something useful there.”
“Good girl.” He said.
“That’s quite the effective tactic, using a pretty lady to scope out your victims.” I addressed the man in charge. “But, killing us will only condemn you.”
“We are already condemned, sir.” He answered back.
“You have no idea. I must stress that you are impeding on our mission.” I exclaimed.
“Mission? What is this, two thousand and ten? There are no missions, no order. Chaos is all that is left.” He said.
“What is your name?” I asked in a futile attempt to make a connection.
“Not that it matters, its Callahan.” Hechuckled. �
�And what is this mission of yours?”
“I am seeking the cure.” I responded sternly.
“You’re a scientist?”
“Yes, Virologist.”
“And you think you can fix the world?”
“Not fix.” I stammered. “Start anew.”
“That is fascinating.” He said with heavy sarcasm. “What is in the pack?”
“My equipment, nothing of value for the likes of you.” I said.
“I’d watch your tongue,” He scolded with a sinister smile. “Empty it.”
I complied, knowing that these simple minds would be boggled by the technology before them. One of his men sifted through my gear, showing interest in only a small case of syringes and assortment of drugs, mostly sedatives. He ignored most of it, but his eyes caught sight of three vials of morphine, which he pocket with a syringe.
“Useless junk.” He confirmed.
“So we have some drugs, and a rifle.” Callahan stated, “Not a very big take.” Then he glanced over at Steph. “She looks tasty, the boys could use some good pussy.” He stated as two other men approached her.
Before I could protest, Eeamon struck the first man in the throat with a sharpened tine of a deer antler that he pulled from his pocket, then spun around like some martial arts master and plunged the spike into the forehead of the other. I raised my hand, to intervene and stop the bloodshed, but it was too late. Callahan pulled a pistol from his belt, and instantly an eruption of fire and lead exploded from the barrel and pummeled through Eeamon’s head. He fell fast and hard alongside the other two men, and Steph screamed with repulsion.
“STOP!” I cried, and Callahan turned his gun onto me.
“You should have kept a tighter leash on that boy.” He said coldly.
“Why?” I asked in frustration.
“Why what?”
“Whydo you feel the needto preyon the weak?”Iasked, walking into his gun without fear.