by Mariah Lynde
“I know I’m covered there,” Jay chuckled. Not that I blamed him. Of all of us, he was the only one that had served in the military. I knew for a fact he owned a couple of firearms, but I had no clue what they were.
“Yeah, well, that’s to be expected for you.” Maybe I sounded like an old schoolmarm chiding him, but the whole objective of our little think tank was to be sure we all survived. By that way of thinking, giving anyone in this call the green light to go buck crazy in acquiring weapons they had no idea how to use safely was a bad idea.
“True enough,” Jay pouted, and I sighed softly.
“When the time comes that we all meet up, it’ll be useful. Until then, I don’t think any of you want me out with a rifle I don’t know how to shoot.” Seeing as my own faults had already been outlined tonight, what was one more stain on the altar of my wounded pride.
“Yeah, so what do you suggest?” Brandon asked.
“I suggest the KISS method. Keep it simple, stupid.” I took a sip of my drink and rolled my shoulders once before I continued, “We stay out of the action as best we can. If we get caught out, use improvised weapons and stuff we have on hand. Bats, tools, stuff we have easy access to – that said, I would highly recommend you avoid anything made of metal.”
“Why’s that? Aren’t they more durable?” Alec asked, and I shuddered a little as my arms reminded me of just why metal objects were a bad idea.
“I’m sure they are, but they suck on impact. I clocked that chick with a metal fire extinguisher, and my arms are still killing me.” Honestly, saying that out loud helped a little. My grumping over the small detail shifted my focus from what exactly I had done.
“So…I get to play an axe murderer in real life? Epic!” Alec’s exclamation had me rolling my eyes before I snorted a little. “What? You may think it’s childish, but metal blade and a wooden handle. Hello! This is my personal weapon of choice. I have experience swinging axes on set!”
It was definitely something to ponder. I’d never considered the fact that an axe might actually be viable. Then again, I wasn’t the killer type. Alec, for all his laid back hilarity, had a strange obsession with horror movies and the weird. If it had anything to do with death, you were bound to find him smack dab in the middle of it.
“You aren’t right, Alec.” I groaned in exasperation, “But yes, if this is an outbreak of the undead, I suppose you get to play an axe murderer in real life.”
“Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” I didn’t have to see him to know he was holding his arms up in the ‘score’ position. I just knew. Anyone who found their obsession in life to be validated would have done the same. Personal victories deserve a little celebration.
“Should we start planning out a timeline?” I asked softly. While it felt comforting to have all of these people to talk to, I knew I had more to do. Much as I wanted to talk to Robbie and map out my plan for getting home, there were other things that needed to be done first.
“No,” Brandon said. “I think we should set a time to be back on here tomorrow. That way we can all start going out to get supplies and judge what is happening in our areas. Besides, we won’t know anything about what to plan for or possible repercussions until things start happening.”
“He’s right.” Robbie broke in before I could speak. “Let’s worry more about the immediate parts of the plan. For right now, that’s acquiring supplies and preparing to hunker down.”
“Alright, agreed,” I answered.
“Sounds good,” Alec said with a small little laugh.
“Definitely doable,” Jay’s gravelly voice sounded.
On and on it went. Once everyone had agreed to be back online the next day, I breathed a sigh of relief. Soon enough, I would be relaxing, even if it could only be for a few moments.
“So what time is good for everyone tomorrow?” Robbie once again took command.
“I say we shoot for eight. Most of us have work tomorrow, and those that don’t should probably be home before dark until we know what’s going on.” This came from Dave, which surprised me a little. He’d been quiet for most of the time we were in the call, and it made me wonder just what he was thinking.
“Sound good to me,” I offered.
“Me too,” Robbie agreed. “So, everyone here at eight tomorrow night?”
“We talking eastern standard time?” Jay’s voice rose at the end as if he were truly unsure what to think.
“Yep,” I answered.
“Alright then, yeah. I suppose that’s workable,” He muttered.
Murmurs of assent sounded through the call for several moments before everyone went silent. I can’t tell you if any of them were having the same thoughts that I had. Here we were, online like any other night, but I worried that it could be our last. It I was correct about what we were facing, the world as we knew it would be changing.
What the hell were we doing? Why would we even be considering any of this? All of us were nothing more than gaming nerds that spent our days working, and our nights at home playing on computers. What could we possibly do that thousands of other people weren’t more qualified for?
I could lose them. They’d die and I would have no clue.
That thought in particular caused me to pause. Looking at the screen, I lifted my fingers to touch its surface before I added softly, “Everybody be careful. Please. Watch yourselves.”
Unable to handle the turn my thoughts had taken, I clicked to disconnect myself from the call. Suddenly, my chest ached and my eyes felt like they were throbbing so incessantly they were going to pop right out of my skull. Flopping back in my chair, I closed my eyes (more to shut out the world around me than to alleviate any pain) while I forced my dark thoughts away from the realization that had just blackened my soul.
Chapter Twelve – The Road to Hell…
THUMP…THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!
Heavy handed knocks dragged me from a set of rather unpleasant dreams with a sudden start. Taking a breath, I immediately regretted it as the cool, moist air of my surroundings tickled the back of my throat and caused me to cough like my lungs were trying to engineer their grand escape up through my throat.
Ugh, I felt like hell. For several long moments, I didn’t even bother opening my eyes. It felt like fire was racing up my spine and my neck was permanently glued at some ungodly angle. I groaned, moving to sit up, only to find the motion sent me crashing head first into the surface of my desk.
“Damn it.” Grumbling, I lifted one hand to rub at my forehead as I sat back up to look around. The lamps that cast light into my little nerd cave were still burning and that faded yellow glow made it all too obvious nothing had been disturbed down here. Still, what had woke me up?
I waited a moment with a frown and wondered if maybe I’d done something stupid like leaving some movie streaming on the computer. Turning my head to peer at the screen, I ignored the rather obnoxious protest my body made at being forced to move. However, just when my eyes narrowed, a sound from upstairs caught my attention.
Thump!
Well, this didn’t bode well for me. Either someone had broken into my duplex, or the cops were finally here to come collect. If it was the cops, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about my theory about a crazy zombie apocalypse being real.
Laying my hands flat on the desk top, I levered myself up and drew in a sharp breath as pain shot through my neck. I was making a mental note not to spend any nights in that chair for at least the next twenty years before moving to the stairs leading up to my apartment. Grabbing the interior handle of the door, I pulled slightly and heard the soft snap of the lock disengaging before I pushed up the hatch to crawl out.
That had been my mistake. Thinking I could still function at a hundred percent after staying in that chair had been an overly prideful misinterpretation. While I had no clue how long I had slept down there, the sudden assault of sunlight on my eyes had me stumbling back a step and slamming the back of my head into the frame of the h
atch.
“Damn it!” What had been a minor inconvenience of a strained muscle had become a full blown migraine. Black spots swam in front of my eyes as I struggled to fight off the sudden nausea that threatened to have me hurling up what little was in my stomach. That, in conjunction with the throbbing at the back of my skull, was enough to make me hate life at that particular moment.
Thump, thump, thump!
Now that I had made it into the apartment, the sound which had woken me seemed all the more disconcerting. I experienced a brief moment of relief in learning that it had been someone knocking on the door. That brief euphoria was cut short by the realization that I had no clue just who that might be.
“Just a second!” Calling out, I winced as the sound of my own raised voice echoing off the kitchen walls made my temples throb. Scrambling up out of the hidden door to my shelter, I turned and kicked the wood paneling back down in place before stepping on the boards so the magnetic lock engaged. Pleased that my little sanctuary had become unnoticeable once more, I then turned to walk down the hall to my front door.
Thump, thump, thump.
“Miss Warren! I know you’re here. You will open this door right now!” Now, I truly wished I had crawled into my small hole to die. There were few people on this planet that I despised more than Teena Hawthorne. The property manager and bitch extraordinaire of the complex had long been a thorn in my side.
In my experience, most people admired women like Teena Hawthorne. They went the extra mile to get what they wanted and achieved any goal they set forth in life. My problem with Teena, and most women like her, was that they tended to be backstabbing uber-bitches that would lie, cheat, steal, and cause drama if it furthered their cause. She thrived on being in control and the center of attention. If she did not have those things, God help you if you were caught up in the whirlwind.
As for her relationship with me, well, I sealed the deal on her hatred when I went to the handyman instead of her for an issue regarding my kitchen sink. Apparently that had been a step too far, and since then she’d been riding my ass for any excuse to make my life hell.
“Jesus, alright,” I muttered, and made quick work of unlocking my door and then flung it open. While it shouldn’t have surprised me, her hair was pinned up in a halo of golden curls that perfectly framed her face. Running my gaze down her frame, I had to fight the urge to laugh out loud at a short tennis skirt and tank top meant for someone twenty years her junior. I may have been desperate, but never that desperate. My musings about her wardrobe attempt as a teeny bopper sex siren were interrupted by her cackling, high pitched voice cutting through the air.
“Finally got fired, I see. Does this mean you’ll be heading home at the end of the month?” I swear, if you gave that woman the One Ring at that moment, she would have been a spitting image of Gollum. Turning my head to peer at the clock on the wall just over my right shoulder, I saw the time and frowned a little before looking back on her in disgust.
“Actually, no. I don’t leave for work for another hour, but you already know that. What can I do for you Mrs. Hawthorne?” Annoyed at her early morning wake-up call, I knew that I shouldn’t be prodding the lion. However, this was one animal that I wanted to see put down and I just couldn’t help myself.
I watched as her gaze ran from my messy curly hair then down to my nerdy tribute to cylons and right past that to my Black Knight sleep pants, complete with severed limbs and smart ass quips. When I noticed her lips curl in disgust as she looked to my bare feet, I wiggled my toes and smirked as her head jerked up in response. I leaned against my doorframe, crossing my arms in front of me and arching a brow as she seemed to be searching for something to say.
“You’re parked over the line, young lady. That space is not yours to occupy,” she snapped at me peevishly. If she’d been annoyed before, the fact I caught her staring at any part of me had her rearing for a fight. “Should I call the cops and tell them you’re driving into this complex each night drunk?”
“First off, good luck with that. You know I don’t drink. Second, I’m sorry I parked over the line, but I wasn’t feeling well when I got home last night.” Shrugging my shoulders, I turned a little to drag my back against the doorjamb to scratch at an itch that had appeared out of nowhere. Again, Teena’s lips curled in disgust, which had my mind doing a little celebratory dance that I could elicit such a reaction.
“Move the car, Miss Warren.” Green eyes narrowed on me, and I just shifted my weight to lean against the door again.
“Fine with me.” Moving to grab my keys off the table, I heard her gasp. Turning to peer at Mrs. Hawthorne, for a split second I thought maybe I’d gotten lucky and a zombie had wandered here just to make a meal out of the old bat. Unfortunately, that did not appear to be the case, because she remained staring straight at me like I had just pissed in her diamond encrusted corn flakes. “What now?”
“You can’t mean to walk out here like that?” Her overly dramatic outburst was accentuated by the lifting of one hand to point directly at me.
“Well, yeah. I’m just moving my car.” Offering a flippant wave of my own hand, I moved to step out the door, only to find her blocking my path.
“Absolutely not! That is practically indecent! You will go put on proper clothes, and then come out here and move this car.” The emphasis she put on the word was not lost on me. Since I had moved into the complex, she had made it a point of using the Explorer to make me an example as to being one of ‘those’ people.
It didn’t matter that I had moved in here with my boyfriend at the time, she had believed that the sun rose and fell in Jim’s ass. When his lying ass left, she had immediately circulated the rumor through the complex that I had been the reason for his departure. After that, I had done everything to circumvent going to her with any problem, and it had culminated in her silent campaign to paint me as the antichrist. Gatherings, parties, complex neighborhood watch meetings had all become her platform for pointing out my obvious flaws to the other tenants.
“Listen, I’m not going to get dressed just to move my damn car,” I snapped at her. Apparently it had not been something she expected, because she jumped back and away from me in an awful hurry.
“Yes you will, or I swear I will be reporting you to−”
“I know you will, but let’s get one thing straight. You’d be filing a false police report if you called the cops, and you can be damn sure that I will go to the property owner to file a complaint. For Christ’s sake, I’m wearing more clothing than you are!” Considering my day yesterday and how this one looked to be starting out, I wondered if it was too late to sign certain people up for volunteer outbreak duty. Teena would be the first one I added to that list.
“You wouldn’t dare. I am the manager here.” She stomped her tennis shoe clad foot in a huff. While I shouldn’t have done it, I laughed and shook my head before leaning against the doorjamb once more.
“If you decide to push it, yes. I pay my rent on time, I maintain my apartment a hell of a lot better than some of the other tenants, and yet you still feel the need to come over here and harass me. Who else in this complex gets to have an inspection twice a month?” When she didn’t answer, I arched a brow and idly spun my keys on one finger as she remained silent. “That’s what I thought. So make your choice. Do I move my car now, or are you waiting until I actually have to leave my apartment for the day?”
Even I will admit that what I had done fell into the category of ‘bitch move’. I had been wanting to say all of that forever, but I’d tried not to cause waves. I had thought of using it for some kind of grand coup to unseat the woman from her position in the complex. Using it for something this petty could be considered showing my hand too soon, but c’est la vie. The world is ending, who really gave a damn if I used it now or not. Soon enough it wouldn’t matter. Seeing Teena squirming before me in discomfort made me mentally cackle with glee. There could be nothing better to start your day than winning one of your personal ‘f
uck you’ wars against an arch-nemesis.
“Fine, it can wait until you go to leave for the day. Don’t let it happen again.” Just like that, Teena Hawthorne was gone. She gave little thought to dismissing herself or exchanging goodbyes. Instead, she chose to turn on her heel and stomp off towards the office. Me? I stayed there, leaning against my doorway and watching the whole disgraceful trek.
Stepping back into my apartment, I shut the door and leaned back against it as one hand moved to toss my keys on the small table to the right. From the second my back hit the door, all I could do was unleash the maniacal laugh that had been building in my throat since watching Teena's temper tantrum. For those few blissful moments, when the world had been sleeping and she had been faced with the failure of her own ploy, that sophisticated veneer had disappeared. In truth, it had almost been like watching Godzilla trample through Tokyo while dressed in a teeny bopper tennis outfit.
Flipping the deadbolt back in place, I pushed off the door to walk towards the kitchen just as I heard my cell phone start to ring. Dodging towards my bedroom, I blinked as I saw the caller ID. My little battle of a few moments before faded from my memory as quickly as it happened when I saw the number for the McGinley building flashing on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Angel Warren?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded off. I couldn’t quite place my finger on it, but the tone of their voice sounded tinny, like they were speaking in some kind of tunnel or through a metallic mask.
“Um…yes. This is Angel Warren.” I stumbled over the words and forgot to take a breath. A mistake I soon realized as my head started to pound and throb while the person on the other end of the line spoke.
“This is Richard Galpin from the HR department here at McGinley Enterprises.” For a moment, I wondered just why someone from HR would be calling me at home.
“Well, hello Richard. What can I do for you this morning?” All of this seemed a little bit odd. I know what Isaac had said, but in all honesty, I expected an automated phone call from the company main line.