by Hunter Shea
The report of distant gunf ire echoed from the area beyond City Hall.
The animals’ attention was pulled away from him and Alexiana. He craned his neck around and kissed her quick.
“Here goes.”
Buck shot the fat raccoon perched on the hood of a Honda Civic and ran, Alexiana tethered to him. He shot twice more, hitting two skunks that looked like they were ready to sail off the roof of a Ram truck. They burst into a pink mist.
He ran as fast and hard as his tired and battered legs would take him. They made it through the surrounding creatures quickly. He turned back and saw them on the street now, less-than-aerodynamic bodies trundling from side to side in pursuit.
More shots rang out. He wondered if it was the Nine Judges letting off steam, dealing with their own animal control issues, or worse—finding the Padillas.
With a comfortable distance between themselves and the animals, Buck gave the glass front door to the KFC a try. To his shock, it was open, which was a very good thing. If he had to shoot it open, the glass would have shattered and there’d be no way to keep the animals out.
He slammed the door behind them, dragging a pair of heavy garbage pails over to wedge against it. The first skunk hit the glass with a heavy thump, followed by the rest of its unlikely crew. The pane shook mightily, and he was sure the glass would break.
Alexiana clung to him, panting.
An odor worse than smelling salts hit him square in the nose.
It wasn’t chicken.
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As soon as his father opened the door at the end of the shop, Rey slipped from his grip, collapsing on a carpeted floor. Max turned on the small Maglite he’d been carrying in his pocket.
Rey’s mind went into a panic as his lungs fought for air. It felt as if he was drowning. Flailing on the floor, he gasped for breath.
Max was by his ear, saying, “Rey, are you choking? Can you breathe?”
Rey tried to shake him off. He needed to concentrate. Take in as much air as possible. When he did, his lungs twitched, making him cough. Something thick and acidic lodged in his throat and this time, he thought there was no way he’d dislodge it. He tried to swallow. It didn’t move. Nothing could get past whatever had crawled into his throat.
“Dad, Rey can’t breathe!”
His brother’s voice sounded as if he was in another room. Hands clutched at his arms, lifting him up.
He saw his father’s face, and his panic doubled. The fear in his father’s normally stoic eyes told him he was in trouble.
“Hit his back,” his father said.
Rey’s spine shuddered as Max pounded as hard as he could.
What meager oxygen that was in his lungs was trapped, and there was no way to replenish it with new. He wanted to scream, to cry, to say something to his family. To die in a blind panic seemed so unfair after everything they’d been through.
“Breathe, Rey, breathe,” Max said, his voice up several octaves.
His father nudged Max away, looping his arms around his chest. He felt intense pressure in his gut, just under his rib cage. The vile thing in his throat shifted and he struggled to draw in a breath. His airway was still blocked.
“Dad, help him!” Max was near hysterics.
His father tugged again. Rey’s mouth opened in a pained O, droplets of blood spewing on Max. His brother either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Stay with me, Rey,” his father said. “We’re going to get it out.”
His father locked his hands together to form a large fist and he drove that fist under his diaphragm.
To Rey, it felt like a peeled, hard-boiled egg rocketed up his esophagus. It flew from his mouth, his teeth raking the hot, oily surface, splashing his tongue with diseased tissue and fluid. Max stepped aside like a matador as it splattered on the carpet.
That first breath, even though it was hot and stale, felt like a gift from heaven. His father held him like a rag doll as he drew quick breath after quick breath, like a man dying of thirst dipping his head into a cool spring.
“Slow down, Rey, or you’re going to hyperventilate,” his father said, rubbing his back. “A little slower. That’s it. Try to hold it in for a bit. Just like that. You’ve got it. Nice and slow.”
“What the hell is that?” Max said, pointing at the mass of bloody tissue that had expelled from Rey’s mouth.
“Not now, Max. Here, help me set him down. And while you’re at it, take a seat, too. Does your shoulder hurt?”
As Rey settled onto the floor, he watched Max as he angled his neck to see the bite on his shoulder. His shirt was shredded, and there was a ton of blood running down to his jeans. Max touched it tentatively, curling his lip.
“Not so bad. Feels kinda numb.”
“It’ll hurt later,” his father said. “I’ll go back to the cart and see what’s in the first aid kit.”
Rey wanted to say something, to thank his father, assure his little brother that he’d be all right, but it was impossible to make the words sprout from his damaged respiratory system. Now that he had settled down, he took in their surroundings. The little room was an office, with a battered metal desk and chair, a couple of filing cabinets, and a movie poster of Foxy Brown in a cheap frame, hanging at a crooked angle.
He slapped Max’s thigh, sweeping the room with his hand, shaking his head.
His brother and father realized at the same moment what was very wrong with the room.
Max said, “Where are Mom and Gabby?”
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Buck tried to get Alexiana to sit in one of the plastic booths, but she was terrified to let him out of her sight. If something happened to him and he called for help, she’d never know it. She dug her fingers into the collar of his shirt and did her best to say, “You’re not leaving me.”
He said something, but in the dark, she couldn’t read his lips at all.
The stench inside was unbearable. Someone had died here.
The raccoons and skunks, realizing they couldn’t get past the glass door and windows, started to filter away. The skunks hadn’t sprayed because they weren’t afraid. They were off to find food or other survivors dumb enough to be out in the streets at night. At least during the day, you could see what was coming before they were right on top of you.
The dining area of the KFC was empty. The trash bins overflowed with garbage and chicken bones. Her sneakers stuck to the floor with each step. A sign over a particularly large mound of garbage and food waste bore a smiling Colonel Sanders likeness, with a word bubble that said: Please, keep our restaurant clean.
Buck tugged on the loop of her jeans and she followed him to the counter. The stench was even worse here.
They both leaned over the stained white counter. Alexiana couldn’t stop the bile from splashing the back of her teeth.
Four bodies in an advanced stage of decay lay on the maroon tiled floor. A mother, father, and their two young girls stared sightlessly at the ceiling. It looked as if the flesh was melting from their bones. Each had a red, cratered hole in their temple.
If they were alive, why would they kill themselves? And why here?
Buck hopped over the counter, careful not to step on them. Alexiana’s heart stopped when he stomped into the darkness. He returned quickly, carrying an armful of KFC polo shirts. He placed one over each of their faces. While he did that, Alexiana said a silent prayer.
She couldn’t stay here all night. Not knowing—
Casting a quick glance out the window, she saw there were just a few of the animals left loitering about. She pointed them out to Buck, who nodded and squeezed her shoulder.
Once the last one left, they had to find another place to stay.
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Elizabeth kept her back to the steel door, arms wrapped around Gabby. She heard every shot inside the shop and the pounding of the horses as they went wild. They both cried, clinging to each another, hoping beyond hope that Daniel and the boys would somehow make it through all right.
She
faced a slick, filthy concrete wall that had to be a dozen feet high. It smelled like old piss and mildew. Steps filled with litter led to the back of the shops and the next street over. They didn’t dare go up those steps. There was no telling what could be waiting for them. Elizabeth’s heart chilled at the thought of her and Gabby on their own.
It seemed selfish to even pray at this point. For all she knew, thousands of people were suffering behind closed doors at this very moment, each breath possibly their last.
There was a loud crash, and the horses cried out with high-pitched wails that made her shiver.
“Mommy, I’m scared,” Gabby said, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I know, honey, I know.”
“I want Daddy.”
Gabriela hadn’t referred to them as Mommy and Daddy for the past year, ever since she’d turned double digits. Overnight, they’d become Mom and Dad. The same had happened with Rey and Max, so they were prepared, but it hurt a little more this time because she was their only daughter.
“He’ll be here, soon, Gabby. Just close your eyes and keep your arms around me, okay?”
Max shouted something, followed by a series of loud thumps. Elizabeth fought hard to keep her composure. As much as she wanted to let her fears loose, her daughter needed her to be strong.
“Do you remember the time you were learning to ride your bike in Coyne Park?” Elizabeth said. Gabby nodded her head against her mother’s stomach. “We all took turns holding on to the backseat and running with you down the little track until you were ready to go on your own.”
“And Miguel sat in the grass clapping,” Gabby said.
“That’s right. He wanted to try it without training wheels, too, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. You tried and tried, and each time we let go, you were all right for a little bit, then you started to wobble and eventually you and the bike tipped over to one side. Your father and I were so amazed that no matter how many times you fell, you never cried and you never said you wanted to quit.”
“That’s because I wanted to ride like Max and Rey. I knew that if I cried, they would laugh at me.”
They jerked at the jarring sound of gunfire. Elizabeth held her breath, sucking her tears back.
“No, sweetheart, they wouldn’t have laughed at you. They wanted you to be able to ride without training wheels so bad, they were happy to stay at the park all day until you could do it. You were getting so frustrated. And what did Max do?”
Gabby sniffed, so stiff in her arms. “He got on my bike to show me how easy it was.”
“That’s right. And then he started doing tricks, like standing on one pedal while he cruised around the track, then kneeling on the seat.”
“Then he saw Bridgette Lanza coming from soccer practice on the other field, and when he waved at her, he fell off the bike,” Gabby said.
Elizabeth smiled at the memory. “I still don’t know how he managed that double somersault and ended up on his feet as if it was exactly what he’d meant to do. He didn’t even get a scratch. He made you laugh, and I think he impressed Bridgette just a little bit that day. And the best part—”
Gabby completed the thought, “The best part was I was able to ride all by myself right after that. Max wasn’t afraid, even of falling. I thought if I wasn’t afraid, I could ride without training wheels, and even if I fell, I’d be all right, just like Max.”
“Just like Max.” Elizabeth pressed her lips on top of her daughter’s head.
The furor in the shop suddenly died down. Elizabeth listened hard, but either no one was moving inside or the metal door was too thick to hear anything under a dull roar.
Gabby looked up at her with wet chestnut eyes. “Can we see Daddy, Max, and Rey now?”
Elizabeth held up a hand. “Just a moment. I have to be sure it’s okay to go back inside.”
And if the boys weren’t okay? What would she do then? How would Gabriela react if she saw her father and brothers seriously hurt or worse?
She waited another minute. Silence.
“Don’t let go of my hand,” she said to Gabby.
She wrapped her hand around the cold knob and turned. It didn’t budge. She pulled at the door, but it remained immovable.
“I think it’s locked,” she said. She used both hands, but the knob was unyielding.
Elizabeth was about to knock on the door when she felt Gabby tug at her shirt.
Following Gabby’s gaze to the top of the stairs, she let go of the doorknob and clasped her hands around her daughter.
Dear God, no!
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Alexiana didn’t need to speak to tell him they couldn’t stay in the KFC, and she didn’t need to hear to know when it was time to follow Buck out the back door. If they stayed there any longer, he didn’t think he’d ever rid his nose of the pungent, sickly sweet smell of those fruiting bodies.
Even now, out in the night air, he could smell that poor family as if they were walking right beside them.
Now there was the matter of where to go. The decision was easy.
City Hall.
The building sat on a hill, making it just about the highest vantage point in the downtown area. He and Alexiana could break inside and get to one of the highest floors. When daylight came, they’d be able to see anyone walking about, even across the Hudson on the Jersey side. There was a chance they could find the Padillas, or help, or even Miguel.
Buck motioned for Alexiana to stop. For a flash, she went rigid with expectation, fear washing over her face. He reassured her that, for the moment, they weren’t in danger. He just needed something.
The front door to a red Jeep was wide open. Buck crawled into the back and pulled up the seats. In the seat well was the car’s jack and a crowbar. He snapped the crowbar from its plastic holder.
“The new key to the city,” he said, grunting as he contorted his body around the cramped space.
“We’re going to stay there,” he mouthed close to Alexiana’s face, pointing at City Hall. She nodded and pressed his hand. They jogged across the jam-packed street, skirting around the building to the front steps. Buck was exhausted. What he wouldn’t give for a ski lift to take them to where they needed to go. He paused a moment to catch his breath.
He couldn’t wait too long. There was no telling what fresh hell was lurking about. Grabbing Alexiana’s hand, they headed up the stairs. The tall front doors were open. Either no one had locked up when the shit hit the fan, or they weren’t the first to think of using the old building as a temporary safe harbor. Inside was darker than outside.
“Fucking great,” Buck said under his breath. “This whole place could be crammed with lunatics.”
It only took a couple of weeks of deprivation of man’s creature comforts to devolve him to a near-animal state. The more pampered a society, the faster they crumbled. Aside from stocking up on supplies for the end of the world, Buck had studied a lot of psychology. Know thy enemy, and thy enemy is thee.
The crowbar in one hand and his pistol in the other, he led Alexiana into the dark unknown, searching for a stairwell.
110
There was a moment when Daniel thought for sure he was having a heart attack. His heart was already pulsing to a dangerous beat after battling the racehorses. Realizing that his wife and daughter were missing escalated things to the breaking point. The pain in his gunshot arm burned like a hot poker being driven under his flesh. He found one of the painkillers Elizabeth had put in his pocket and chewed it.
“You boys stay here,” he said. “I’ll go find them.”
Max and Rey were a mess. Rey’s sickness was winning its battle over the heavy-duty antibiotics Elizabeth had been giving him. And Max, tough as he was, had been beaten and bitten to the point of collapse. The bleeding in his shoulder had stopped, but it had also sapped his strength.
Daniel went back into the store. It looked like one of Buck’s grenades had gone off inside. Horses and busted vacuum cleaners were strewn everywhere.
No, they couldn’t have gone past them, back out the store’s front. So where the hell were they?
He turned around and felt his body deflate when he spied the battered silver door hidden behind wooden shelves crammed with labeled boxes of parts. It must lead to the back of the shop, outside, where Elizabeth and Gabby would be far from safe.
Gripping the handle, he gave it a turn and pulled. The door was wedged shut. The wood frame had warped over the years and was now a too-comfortable fit for the door itself.
“Elizabeth, can you hear me?” he said with his mouth close to the door. He knocked on it twice for good measure.
Two soft raps came back in reply.
“Elizabeth? Gabby, is that you?”
He knocked again, harder.
And again, two tiny knocks were all he got back.
Why aren’t they answering me?
“The boys are all right. You can come in now. I’m going to pull on the door. I just need you to push.”
Daniel pulled, but he couldn’t feel them pushing on the other side.
Something’s wrong.
He darted to the back room. “Max, Rey, I have to go back outside.”
Max struggled to get up. “I’m coming with you.”
Daniel held out his hand. “No, you’re not. Your mother and sister are in the back of the store, but the door won’t open. I’m going around to get them. Keep this door shut until we come back. I’ll knock twice, stop, then twice again so you know it’s us. You got that?”
They nodded their weary heads. Rey’s eyes fluttered open and closed. The poor kid was just about asleep.
Daniel handed Max the .38 that he’d been keeping in his back pocket as a last resort. “Only shoot when you see what you’re firing at.”
Max took the pistol, laying it beside him.
Daniel couldn’t believe he was giving his fourteen-year-old a gun, but there was no arguing the necessity. He ran out of the shop, leaping over one of the dead horses, turning left on the sidewalk in search of an alley.
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