The Broken and the Dead (Book 2): The Merciless and the Dead

by Jay Morris

  Tucker was shirtless and was sitting in a pool of blood and other fluids. His face was clean now, except for tracks of the tears on his face, he was holding the black girls body in his lap. Her face no longer beautiful, blood pooled in her mouth, her lips burnt black, her eyes were wide open, her expression one of agony. Tucker’s chest trembled with the sobs. No one spoke, finally Tucker sniffed and spoke, his voice unnaturally small, broken in a way I scarcely recognized, he looked as traumatized as the children were the day before. Perhaps even more so.

  “She, she, drank that.” He whispered.

  His face a painful menagerie of emotions: sorrow, horror, disbelief. I looked over at a ½ gallon jug laying on the floor. It was red, the label said “Vesuvius Main Line Opener” below that, in huge white letters, “Warning! Contains strongest Concentration Sulfuric Acid Available”.

  I looked back at Tucker, the merciless creature I had watched viciously massacre an entire family, was sitting in a puddle of blood, and crying uncontrollably. He was gently touching her hair, shaking his head and crying. He was silently saying he was sorry. I whispered to Karen,

  “Check on the kids then get Amy.”

  Then I changed my mind

  “No, get Diane from the roof.”

  Karen was crying too but she nodded, then kissed my cheek and ran from the room. I leaned my rifle against the sink then walked over and squatted next to Tucker. I didn’t know what to say, deciding I would talk to him like I was the adult and to tell the truth at that moment I probably was.

  “John?” I said.

  “John, we need to clean you and her up before the others see.”

  He nodded, but didn’t move. I lay my hand on his shoulder,

  “John, come on, get it together.”

  He shook his head, tears silently trailing down his cheeks to disappear into the now thick, wild beard. The door opened behind me,

  “Oh shit.” Diane said.

  She and Karen entered the room. We showed her the red bottle and she shook her head. Diane asked me to carefully try and take the girl from him. It seemed impossible, he wouldn’t let the girl go. He held her as if she were his own daughter. He was inconsolable. It was bizarre, he had strangled a girl not much older than this one and now he was behaving like this. I felt myself starting to get angry. Finally, Diane said

  “John, the girls, Lucy and Gina, they can’t see you like this.”

  His breathing started to slow a little. After that she had to strain a little but she finally got him disentangled from the corpse and I was able to set the girls thin body down out of that dark, curdled puddle of blood.

  We took him to the sink, I noticed his shirt was soaking in a pool of water thinned blue blood on the other side of the sink with his flash light in it. I looked in the mirror and I could suddenly see what had happened. Tucker had stripped his shirt, rinsed as much of the alien gore from it as he could then then put it in that sink. He had washed his upper body and face, looked in the mirror and saw the dead girl on the ground behind him. Diane had an old but clean strip of white T-shirt to start to clean him. At first he was unresponsive and didn’t protest as we stripped him down to his boxers, but slowly he began to take over and finally he took the cloth and whispered that he would finish. Karen had brought in some clean things for him from the box of spares, she also brought a sheet and covered the poor girl with it. Tucker spoke then, he thanked Diane then went back to cleaning his legs. We left him to it.

  We waited outside for him and I told Diane what we had done, what Tucker had done, this time I left nothing out and Karen cringed at the details I had skipped over.

  “He really did that?” Diane asked, “You two did that?”

  I nodded.

  “We felt the explosions and saw the column of fire but…”

  She stopped as Tucker came out, clean and dressed. He was pale but seemed in control. He looked sheepish, ashamed at having feelings, as if blubbering was unnatural, that it made him less than what he was. He said nothing as he went over to the store room and peeked in, he shut the door looking confused. He asked who was on watch, before I could stop her Diane said that she was and she picked up her rifle and started towards the roof ladder.

  I could see Tuckers mind spinning, putting the pieces together. He started towards the office, I ran to intercept him but Karen was quicker.

  “Don’t.” Karen said.

  He towered over her, they stared at each other then he reached down and taking her by both elbows, picked her up and set her down to one side. Before either of us could stop him he opened the room and looked in, it was illuminated by a single candle. He stared, none of us said anything. There was a sound of someone stirring, someone slowly waking.

  “Ummmm, what? John? John what are you...”

  Amy’s voice slowly grew into consciousness. I could hear her scrambling, getting clothes on, I heard her tell Weir to not get out of bed, to stay out of it. Tucker had watched her for a moment then he let the door go. The pressurized door closer making a ‘shoosh’ sound as it closed.

  Tucker said nothing, he just started packing a back pack, in it he put a handful of MREs, some water bottles, his second colt and all the ammo he had left for them. He took the picture of his ex-wife and his children into his shirt pocket. Amy came scrambling barefoot from the office and she ran over to him,

  “John, what are you doing?”

  He didn’t answer he just put in the half empty box of 45-70, then he added an M-9 and two boxes of ammo for it. Amy continued

  “John. John? Why won’t talk to me?”

  Still no response, she continued as he added a box of matches and a tiny first aid kit. He pulled the pack up on one shoulder.

  “John Tucker, please!”

  Amy sounded frantic her long hair flying about in a crazy fashion.

  Tucker said nothing, then setting down the pack he grabbed Amy by the wrists and my grip tightened on my own pistol. He drug her into the rest room, the sound of struggling stopped and I heard Amy cry out in pain as Tucker exited that awful, bloody crypt and the thin corpse it contained.

  He picked up his pack and his rifle. Then a tiny voiced added to the conversation,

  “Grandpa Tucker, where are you going? Lucy asked.

  The silent little boy holding her hand, and Gina holding his. Tucker walked over and squatted down in front of her.

  “Listen kids”, he began but stopped when Amy weakly opened the bathroom door and stood there using both the door jamb and the door knob to keep herself up. Tucker went on,

  “You know I love you right?” all three heads nodded. “I have to go away now” he said.

  Gina asked “Why gampa?”

  He hugged all three at once then stood and said

  “I am going to fight a war.”

  Lucy looked as if she were weighing her options then said

  “Well, okay but when you winned you have to come find me.” Lucy said.

  Gina, always the helpful one added,

  “And bring candy.”

  He smiled at them “I shall endeavor to make that a priority.”

  He kissed all three on top of the head and started to leave, that spurred Amy into action. She ran and stood in front of the main entrance,

  “John, no, you can’t.” she said.

  I looked at Tucker, I saw the pain of a broken heart etched on his face. He said quietly, his voice steady,

  “You said you cared for me, you made me think that...” he paused then continued “I could have someone in my life again.”

  “John you can! We can...” she started but he cut her off again.

  “I believed in you, I thought that I...”

  He looked down in shame, then he looked back at her, a fierce light in his eyes. Through gritted teeth he said

  ”You lied to me, you betrayed me and now a little girl is DEAD!”

  Now it was her turn to look down.

  “Get out of my way, and if you ever, ever, speak to me again, I will
break your legs.”

  Amy’s head snapped up, disbelief written on her face.

  “You don’t mean that” she said.

  “Don’t test me, Mrs. Driscol.” He growled.

  Tucker lowered his shoulder and pushed past her and out the door. Amy turned to us, an audience of children, witness to her rejection. I looked around and didn’t see much sympathy but she didn’t seem to notice, she just pleaded her case to us,

  “He doesn’t mean it! Really, he loves us all. He will be back tomorrow, you’ll see.”

  Lucy led her procession of three into the store room, so Amy came up to me,

  “Johnny, he will be back tomorrow, right?” she asked.

  I saw the regret in her eyes, the deep need for encouragement, and so I said

  “Sure. Sure, tomorrow probably, the day after maybe.”

  I said, but in my mind I heard the ghost of Billy Driscol say ‘No way Jose.’

  Day 33, Common Area Vehicle 17-3

  The communication screen on the wall was divided into at least twenty five sub-displays with smaller ones popping in and out of existence. Colony 17’s director was still trying to separate fact from informational noise. Pod 12’s director was claiming the channel:

  “Event-Precedence-Quantity (0.0) +- delta, Logical-Derivatives

  :{ Event-Causation-Status-Incorrect

  Event-Quantity-Severity-Incorrect}”

  The screen erupted with opinions both in favor of the conclusion and against it. Finally director 17 received the data stream and they would get to the bottom of this. He keyed in and spoke to the assembled technicians and directors:

  “Permissive-Broadcast-(Director 17, Directors) Status-Update-Pod 6-1-Survivor-Sibling-Data-Stream.”

  There was a murmur of assent and 17s director allowed the live data stream to dominate most of the display. An obviously nervous Da-Nah adolescent was looking in the view screen of his hand held unit. He was trembling, he started to say something but instead he turned the unit to display the site. There were gasps of shock as the wrecked vehicles filled the screen, remains of several dead Da-Nah and underling lay charred on the ground. The bodies had been burnt so badly that the gentle morning breeze was carrying them away.

  No Da-Nah spoke as the youth showed the ruined wreck of the repair vehicle then he slowly walked towards the living quarters of 6-3, the armored living quarters were all that remained of the giant vehicle. It was on its side but the entry monitor still worked and the door slid open. The image moved forward then pulled back. One of the Directors, 8 perhaps, not unkindly asked the youth to please move the pad inside the chamber. The youth was emitting his grief wail, but he still complied with the request. The room was filled with dead Da-Nah, it was impossible. Director 17 could not make sense of it. Their bodies were torn apart, all of them, even the baby.

  How long they stared at the massacre: director 10, who normally did not speak with kindness, did so at this time:

  “Emotive-Kindness-Insistive-(Director 10, Pod 6-sibling)-Site-Departure-Chronal-Displacement (0.0)

  Insistive-Locative-Pod (1, 2, 4) Required.”

  The youth looked into the screen and nodded, still unable to speak, and his image was replaced by those of the directors.

  The debate continued for nearly an hour finally a consensus was called for and agreed to. Director 1 read the final decision so there would be no misunderstanding;

  “Directors-Protocols-Post-Event-Identity (10-0012):

  :{ Broadcast (Director 1-this, Global-Directors 1)

  Status-Alert-Life-Form-Aggressive

  Event-Fatalities-Minimal-Quantity(16) Broadcast (Director 1-this, Global-Directors 1)-Event-Data-Stream Global Directors-Only

  Required-Patrols-Constant-underling

  Required-light-sticks-Patrol-underling

  Status-Severity-High”

  The directors agreed and then left the shared interface, but 17 asked Director 4 to wait.

  “Permissive-Status-Query (Director 4)”

  “Query-Acknowledged”

  “Status-Insistive-Security-Protocols-Enhanced.”

  “Query-Protocol-Enhancement-Derivatives.”

  “Status-Pod 4-Locative-Proximity-Pod 6-3”

  “Protocol-Enhancement-Conjunctive (Approved, Imminent)”

  When his primary spouse terminated their communication, he pulled the recorded data stream up on the display, the impossibility of the event made him cringe and there was a pain between his eyes. Later the director gathered his family and his senior underling, he explained the destruction of 6-3, but omitted the more unpleasant details. Later that morning at nourishment, while he smiled and emitted an odor of reassurance, he couldn’t get the fact out of his mind that his people did not do things like this, they modified Aggressives and let them destroy themselves. This was different, this was unimaginable, this was something the Da-Nah had not faced in millennia, and this was war.

  Day 33, continued, West Virginia Welcome Center

  The day was cold, even inside you could see your breath. Lucy didn’t seem to be overly concerned about Tuckers absence but Amy was wearing a groove in the marble floor. She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular except for perhaps the little boy she was carrying. He was, as usual, totally silent but seemed content enough. Weir was on the roof but the rest of us were watching Amy. Diane West leaned over to me and whispered

  “So, let me get this straight, Little Goody Two Shoes there was married when all this started?”

  “Yep.” I said.

  “And she had a thing with this Darnell guy who was like 20 years old?”

  “Yep.” I said.

  “And she would flirt big time with our friendly neighborhood psychotic-killer-college-professor-gun-nut?”

  “Yep.” I said.

  “Then when she finally gets him to use her first name and act like a person with a heart, she sleeps with Dudley Do-right?”

  “Yep.” I said.

  She thought about it for a minute then said

  “That’s messed up.”

  “Yep.” I said.

  By noon Amy had worn herself out and ‘Bob’ as well because they both took a nap on the sleeping bags in the store room. By the way, I had christened the little boy, “Silent Bob” or Bob for short, at least until he told us his real name. I took over watch from Weir and was sitting in the shade of the big AC unit on the roof, it gave me pretty good views on three sides and I could check the North by just peering down the highway.

  About an hour into my watch Karen came up and sat by me. She said hey and I said hey back. Who says romance is dead? I knew something was bothering her but I just waited; eventually she said

  “I don’t want to die, but I think we are going to.”

  I thought about all the things I could say but instead I told her the truth,

  “I think so too.”

  She didn’t look at me but she didn’t seem surprised.

  “I used to play with dolls you know.” She said.

  “That’s okay” I said “I used to play with G.I.Joes.”

  She chuckled “Those are action figures, aren’t they?”

  I didn’t see her face but I knew she was wearing a Karen smirk. She went on,

  “But what I meant was I played like I was the foreign correspondent/fashion supermodel/spy whose husband and twin daughters lived in a restored plantation that was close to New Orleans for the Vampires, Dallas for the shopping, and Orlando so my husband and I could take romantic Disney cruises” she said.

  I waited for her to say what was really bothering her, then she looked down and said

  “That’s not going to happen is it?”

  I put my arm across her shoulder and pulled her close to me,

  “All I know is that you are smart and funny and tough. I know you are the first person I think of in the morning and the last thing at night and if my dreams don’t entail monsters chasing me, I dream about you.”

  She looked up at me from under her tousled li
ght brown hair and said

  “Wow, did you just make that up?”

  I said, “Nope, I just told the truth.”

  Then she said “Sometimes when we are together I feel 'grown up' and not just 13.”

  Then she made me laugh when she wiggled her eyebrows at me. To get me to stop she kissed me. Between bouts of laughter I said,

  “Oh Karen, I love you.”

  She smiled and said ‘good’, then we went back to guard duty.

  Day 33, continued, Forest Edge, Pod 4 Encampment, Former Site of the Lodge

  Tucker checked the wine bottles, each was filled with gasoline and dish soap, strips of cotton soaked in kerosene formed the wick. He had strips of cloth between them in the ruck sack to keep them from breaking. They looked good he thought. He wished he had a silencer and a small caliber pistol, Night Vision would be helpful too but there was nothing for it now. He had watched the two pair of grays doing the same patrol over and over, never varying their assigned paths. They didn’t even contact each other and often never even seemed to pass in sight of one another as if the patrol was what mattered, nothing else. One pair circled the largest vehicle, the exact copy of the one they had destroyed. There was no repair vehicle or tow truck thing like in their previous raid instead there were three others that appeared to be totally different from the big one but still he could not discern any obvious weaponry.

  The other pair of grays circled only the big one then walked together down a path that disappeared over the hillside. They were his initial targets. He paralleled their path, by the time he crested the hill they were on their way back, but what astonished him was a garden several acres in size. At the end of each row was a device that reminded him of those big square floor polishers. The seedlings were already coming up but that was impossible, then again these guys had crossed light years to get here so maybe a little accelerated farming wasn’t beyond them.

  From each of the quietly humming little machines was a tube that ran the length of the row. Super miracle grow? He wondered. He waited just this side of the crest of the hill, the grays walked past him the same black tubes the others had carried were held in both hands like they were rifles. He had his old Kabar fighting knife in his hand but at the last moment he changed his mind, he changed his grip, stepped out and brought the butt of the knife handle down on the side of the grays temple. Down he went unconscious. The second one spun and started banging his stick on the ground just like before and while they had clearly ramped up the intensity and it did bother him a little it didn’t stop him; he punched the gray in the mouth, breaking his jaw and sending him flying. He muttered to himself