The Junkie Quatrain

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The Junkie Quatrain Page 5

by Peter Clines


  They headed back down to the lobby where some of the outsiders stood guard. Epi’s head was pressed against the glass, his bright mohawk splayed out like an old brush. ‘Back up the hill,’ he said. ‘People.’

  Barney frowned. ‘Another team?’

  ‘There’s only two of them.’

  ‘You sure?’

  Epi shrugged.

  ‘Junkies?’

  ‘Don’t think so. They seem pretty steady.’

  They slipped out through the hole they’d broken in the door. Barney signaled for Derek and Mel to circle around behind the women. Cars lined the street, so they could keep low and stay out of sight. Another gesture sent Charlie scuttling between vehicles. Epi and Chit stayed with the cargo packs.

  The strangers were both women. One was on the chubby side, wearing clothes that were clean and bright. The other one was dark-haired, lean under her clothes, and looked kind of frayed at the edges. The lean one was wearing a pistol on her hip and carried a baseball bat with a weight on the end. She made a point of staying behind the heavy one, Barney noticed. The sounds of their voices finally became words.

  ‘...people’d think that’s kind of awesome,’ said the heavy one.

  ‘Yeah,’ muttered the other. ‘It’s really made my life awesome.’

  As soon as they passed him, Charlie slipped onto the hood of a car. He could be damned quiet when he put his mind to it. The little man set his new rifle casually across his legs and cleared his throat. ‘Hello, ladies,’ he said.

  They twisted around. The ragged one brought her bat up one-handed. Charlie smiled and waved at them.

  Barney gave Sarah a look and she returned a firm nod. He gestured Derek and Mel into position. Monica moved in from the other side.

  The woman made a show of popping the strap on her holster and Monica stepped out from behind a van. ‘Don’t try anything rash,’ she said. She held up the P90 with one hand. It fit snug against her arm.

  The lean woman stepped forward and settled her hand on the butt of her pistol. She glared at Monica, but didn’t draw. The rest of the outsiders made a point of not raising their own weapons.

  Barney took a moment before speaking to reach up and scratch his beard. ‘Afternoon,’ he said. ‘What brings you out here?’

  ‘Just passing through.’ She was thirty, tops, but the lean woman’s voice was dry. They’d all heard a few voices like that lately. People who weren’t used to talking, or were out of practice.

  These two women hadn’t been together long. Which meant they probably weren’t another team. But Barney needed to be sure. If Bradbury was playing them, his price just went way up.

  He gave her a slow nod. ‘Passing through to where?’

  She sized him up. Her hand was still on her pistol. ‘Just passing through,’ she repeated.

  Barney studied the ragged woman. ‘Did Bradbury hire you?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You’re not working for Bradbury?’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She gave a faint shake of her head.

  She was just a bit too professional.

  Derek stepped forward and wrapped his arm around the heavy woman’s throat. His pistol came up level with her head, an implied threat. He took a few steps to the left and dragged his hostage with him.

  ‘Hey,’ said the ragged woman. ‘Don’t scare her. She’s—’

  The heavy woman screamed at Derek. It was a raw howl of anger. He flinched back. They all did, even her friend. After months of silence, noise was almost offensive to them. Derek smacked her. The shock of it seemed to knock some sense into her and she shut up. The last of her scream bounced off the office building, echoed out over the car dealership, and faded away. ‘Hell,’ he said. ‘She’s infected. Late stages.’

  ‘That settles that,’ said Monica. ‘No one’s going to hire an almost-junkie.’

  Just as Barney thought they might have somehow beaten the odds, a cry came from the east. It repeated and became random sounds and syllables. A few yells bounced down out of the hills behind the building. More shouts came from the freeway behind the car lot.

  Maybe a quarter-mile down the road, something loped out into the open. It could’ve been a thin woman or a malnourished man. It was too far away to be sure. The figure hollered at them, took a few shaky steps, and broke into a run.

  ‘Ahhh, shit,’ said Monica.

  It had barely started running when a bigger form, definitely a man, came sprinting out from one side of the road. A beat later a handful of them charged out of a fast food parking lot, all hunched over to run like dogs.

  ‘Junkies,’ said Epi. ‘We got junkies.’ He ran back and pulled his bicycle out from under a van. Roger and Chit were dragging out theirs as well.

  Barney locked eyes with Monica and nodded. There was a quick telephone game of glances between the outsiders and then they ran for their stashed bikes. He looked at the two women. The screamer looked like she was in shock.

  ‘Sorry about this,’ Barney said. He looked past them to the approaching junkies. They were maybe two blocks away. Three more had joined the pack. There were too many to risk using their new weapons and calling in even more. ‘It was just business. Nothing personal.’

  The lean woman glared at him. ‘You’re leaving us here?’

  ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry, but it wasn’t my people that started screaming.’

  ‘Barney, come on,’ shouted Monica. She was holding his bike up, waiting for him. Half the outsiders had already started pedaling.

  He ran to join them and leaped onto his bike. Heading east on Cahuenga Pass, away from the charging junkies, meant they were headed uphill. They could go faster than the junkies, but not for as long.

  He risked a glance over his shoulder. The ragged woman was dragging her friend toward the office building. The junkies had closed the distance to just a few dozen yards, and the pack had grown by three or four more. They always came out of nowhere. Half of them were going after the women, the rest were coming after the outsiders. Five or six, at least. He didn’t take the time to count.

  Barney stood on his pedals and pumped. He could hear the slap-slap-slap of feet behind them. The junkies let out barks and snarls as they ran.

  He passed Jay huffing and panting. They’d never been able to find a bike large enough for him. ‘Come on big guy,’ he said. ‘Keep at it.’

  Jay grunted something and pedaled harder. Up ahead, Mel rasped out a smoker’s wheeze. So did Sarah.

  The footsteps were thundering closer. Barney risked another look over his shoulder. Twenty feet, tops, between him and the closest junkie. One met his eyes and spat out a mouthful of sounds. Their lungs wheezed and their limbs trembled, but they threw their legs out again and again. Giving up wasn’t in their nature. Junkies’d drive themselves to heart attacks if they didn’t drop from exhaustion first.

  The bikes passed a fire station, then a garage. Another dozen yards or so and they’d be over the hill. The junkies would never catch them on the downhill side.

  Barney’s tire snagged on something and let out a rubbery slurp. He didn’t stop, but his balance was gone for a second. He kept the bike upright and pumped harder. An angry snarl came from behind him—from right behind him — and this time he felt the fingertips grabbing at his backpack. He thought about trying to use the shotgun and knew it would slow him down to reach for it. Instead he leaned forward and the snarl became a howl. He could hear lips smacking and nostrils snorting.

  They were at the top. The road leveled out. He could see the edge of the pavement vanish up ahead as it dropped down the hill into Hollywood. Epi and Chit were already over it, and Derek was right behind them. The outsiders leaned into it, thrusting the pedals down again and again. The grasping fingers fell away.

  The pavement sank beneath Barney’s tires and he felt the air on his face turn into wind. There were a few last howls and the sound of running feet faded behind them. He stopped pumping the pedals and let gravity take
over.

  ‘I do not get paid enough for this shit,’ grumbled Jay. He was soaked in sweat, even through the straps of his backpack.

  They all chuckled and coasted down into Hollywood.

  * * *

  Most of Highland Avenue was downhill, so they got to rest after their narrow escape. They skimmed between the few parked cars near the Hollywood Bowl, zipped past the big Hollywood and Highland complex, and then Hollywood High School. There was a fair amount of junkies, but it took them a moment to register what they were seeing and the outsiders were going too fast to catch. Even the big packs weren’t that dangerous if you were moving fast enough.

  Barney knew there were a couple outsiders in the city who used cars. God knew there wasn’t a shortage of vehicles in Los Angeles. There was something to be said for protection and speed. But he’d thought ahead. Gas had been in short supply before things closed down completely. Plus, cars and trucks were loud. Every junkie for half a mile could hear them in the silent city. You became a magnet. Not to mention the hassle of refueling. By their very nature, gas stations were big areas without a lot of cover.

  No, bicycles were better. They were quiet. They never ran out of fuel. They could go anywhere a person could. You only needed to go ten or fifteen miles an hour to outrun most junkies. Once everything locked down, Los Angeles had become a very bike-friendly city.

  They camped out for the night in a Jack in the Box near Wilshire and LaBrea. Monica got first shift on the roof. She took Derek, Andi, and Mel with her.

  The trick to the roof was staying where you had a good line of sight, but were still mostly hidden. It wasn’t like the movies where you could just sit out in plain sight and watch mindless zombies flail away. Junkies had just enough brain left to be dangerous. If they saw people on top, they’d charge the building below. Chit and Sarah had been with another outsider team that hadn’t gotten that. They were the only two survivors.

  One of the best things to do was grab a milk crate or paint bucket or whatever you could find, sit down a few feet away from the edge, and pretend to be a statue. If you didn’t move and weren’t close enough to smell, junkies usually didn’t react. The only catch was trying not to nod off when you sat still for four hours in the dark. Monica sat and watched the road that came off Wilshire. The sign said it was Sycamore. She’d probably passed it two or three dozen times before and never given it a second glance.

  A trio of junkies shuffled by below her. There was a man in a ragged suit, a woman in jeans and a dark top, and a little girl in a blue and gray school uniform. Their faces were gaunt, especially the woman’s. They were starving to death. They’d been infected for a while.

  She wondered if they’d all been exposed to the virus at roughly the same time. Or had they found each other again after their individual infections set in? Maybe they weren’t even a family. It might just be coincidence that this particular pack came together with these junkies. She’d seen all male and all female packs, too, over the past two months.

  Three weeks ago they’d seen a pack of almost two dozen children over on Western, growling and grunting and slavering like dogs. The outsiders had hidden in a low-end furniture store and watched the pack go by. All at once, for no reason, they’d turned on one of their own. The crowd of nine and ten year olds ripped apart a screaming little girl and ate her piece by piece.

  It gave her nightmares for a week.

  She wondered about the two women they’d left behind in North Hollywood. Why would anybody travel with someone infected? Were they friends? Lovers? She hoped the junkies had killed them quick. The lean woman had a pistol. Maybe she’d saved them the trouble.

  A loud cough, or maybe a snort, came from behind her. Too loud. Anyone on sentry duty should know better. Monica looked over and saw Mel had fallen asleep. He was stretched out on his side by the southeast corner, looking as comfortable as someone could on a gravel roof.

  ‘Mel,’ she stage-whispered. ‘Wake up, you lazy bastard. No sleeping on the job.’

  Derek saw the sleeping man and smirked. He picked up a small stone and tossed it at Mel. It patted off his thick vest and fell to the roof with a click.

  Andi chuckled on the west corner. She walked over, her footsteps crunching on the roof. ‘He’s keeping the good stuff to himself again,’ she said. She gave him a gentle nudge with her foot.

  ‘Lazy fucker,’ said Derek.

  Andi bent down and grabbed Mel’s shoulder. He coughed again and she leaned over him to look at something on the ground. Her body settled across his, most of her weight on his hip. Her shiny new rifle rattled on the roof as it slid off her shoulder.

  It took Monica another couple seconds to realize what had happened. She threw herself flat on the roof. The coarse stones cut her fingertips.

  ‘What the hell,’ said Derek. He looked at Monica. He looked at the two bodies.

  ‘Get down,’ she hissed.

  Instead he heaved his rifle up to his shoulder. ‘Is there something out there?’ he said. He spun and panned the M4 carbine around. Across the street was a small strip mall. To the east was a car dealership. To the west was the solid face of a small skyscraper. A residential street stretched out behind them. Derek turned to face each of them, then twisted back as if he was going to catch something on the move. ‘I don’t see anything,’ he said. He spun to the car dealership, snapping the rifle up again. ‘Go wake Barney up. I’ll cover you.’

  ‘How are you going to cover me if you don’t know what you’re shooting at?’

  ‘If I just keep moving,’ he said. And then he fell over. She heard the same noise. Not quite a cough or a snort. Something moving very fast through the air.

  Derek hit the roof with a thump. Monica rolled away. The small rocks and coarse tar paper and random nails cut at her. She caught a quick glimpse of Derek with blood pouring out of his nose and ears. Then the roof vanished, the sky spun around, and she hit the pavement behind the restaurant.

  She dragged herself to her feet. The junkie family was a dozen yards away. They’d heard her land and looked around for the source of the noise. She pushed through the back door of the restaurant and limped past Epi and Chit. The tall man eyed the scratches on her face. ‘What happened to you?’

  Barney was asleep in one of the booths, half sitting up. The big shotgun was on the table by his hand. Monica grabbed him and shook him hard. ‘Problems,’ she said as his eyes snapped open. ‘Everyone’s dead on the roof. Mel, Derek, and Andi.’

  He blinked twice. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Very sure. Happened right in front of me.’

  Chit leaned over from the door. ‘Did you say they’re dead?’

  Monica nodded at her.

  Barney glanced up at the ceiling. ‘Dead how?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I think it might be a sniper. I didn’t actually see anything.’

  Big Jay had been sleeping on the floor with Sarah tucked under his arm. Charlie was stretched across the counter using his pack as a pillow. They all yawned awake.

  Barney ducked his head and scanned the roofs across the street. ‘Did you hear a shot?’

  ‘I heard something,’ said Monica. ‘I don’t know what it was.’

  ‘What’d the wounds look like?’

  ‘I didn’t stick around to check ‘em out.’

  Sarah shook the sleep from her head. ‘Who’s shot?’

  ‘Everybody on guard duty got killed except Monica.’

  Big Jay looked at her. ‘How’d you get away?’

  She glanced down. ‘I tried to duck and fell off the roof.’ Now that she said it out loud and the adrenaline started to wear off, she realized how much her arm hurt.

  Jay and Sarah walked over to the big panes of glass that were the front of the restaurant. ‘I don’t see anything out there,’ he said.

  Monica and Barney snapped at him almost in sync. ‘Get away from the window, you idiot.’

  ‘No,’ said Sarah. She sounded confused. ‘There’s nothing out there.’ />
  Epi wandered over and looked out, too. The arm holding up the carbine rifle went limp and it thudded against his side. ‘Jesus,’ he whispered.

  The rest of them moved to the window. ‘Ah, hell,’ muttered Barney.

  There had been almost a dozen junkies wandering around the restaurant when they went to sleep. Now there were almost a dozen corpses. Monica spotted the trio she’d been watching. Dad and the little girl were face-down on the pavement. Mom looked up at the night sky.

  ‘Maybe they just died,’ said Big Jay. ‘That’s what happens at the end, right? They just fall over and die.’

  Sarah smacked him in the arm. ‘You think they all just fell over and died at the same time?’

  He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  Chit looked at Barney. ‘You think it’s a sniper?’

  He shook his head and his beard scratched against his collar. ‘I sure hope so,’ he said.

  Monica blinked. ‘You do?’

  He nodded. ‘If not, it means there’s someone out there doing all this with their bare hands.’

  * * *

  They sat in the darkened restaurant and watched the dead junkies in the road all night through the big panes of glass. A little after midnight a pair of junkies wandered through the street and settled down to rip chunks out of the bodies of the family. They ate until they were gorged, then ate some more, and finally passed out in the street next to the corpses.

  Nobody in the Jack in the Box slept well.

  The sun peered through the tall buildings, not quite over them, and the outsiders had a gritty breakfast of energy bars, vitamins, and bottled water. More than a few of them stared up at the ceiling or out at the bodies in the street. Sarah went out back to unlock the bikes with Epi covering her. He had one of the M4s they’d nicked from the office. It was a solid weapon with lots of stopping power. At the very least it’d slow something down long enough for everyone else to get out there.

 

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