A Town Called America

by Andrew Alexander

  In her passionate rage she had forgotten about the other two men. She felt three more darts and a strike from the butt end of a rifle, which, upon impact, she thought was a rock. Chris fell backward, landing on her back. Struggling to stand and barely able to see, she could just make out the red M.M. insignias on the men’s chests.

  One of the two men grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms once more, while the other punched her in the face. “You bitch,” he snarled. “You killed Roberts.”

  First he hit her with a left hook, followed by a shot to the midsection and another to the face. Chris could taste the blood filling her mouth but could do nothing to stop it. After what seemed a lifetime later, her nearly naked body fell limply to the ground.

  “I think she’s dead,” one of the men said. “I can’t find a pulse.”

  “You ever see anything like that before? I shot her six times, and she was still fighting. How’s that possible?”

  “You know, Mike, I think you have no idea how to use that thing. If you did, she would have gone down like she was supposed to with the first dart, and you wouldn’t have a busted face.”

  “Oh, yeah? Is that it, Allen? You think I don’t know how to use my own tranquilizer gun?”

  “Nope. I don’t.”

  Mike didn’t even look at Allen when he pointed the tranquilizer gun at him and pulled the trigger. A single dart shot from the weapon and hit Allen in the neck. Not a second later, Allen stopped walking and gave Mike a confused look just before he fell to the ground.

  “I told you it only takes one dart, you stupid shit,” Mike said. “Try and tell me I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Mike sat on his horse after placing Chris’s limp body over the back, just behind the saddle. He looked at Allen lying on the ground below him. Shaking his head and mumbling about only needing one dart, he rode off, leaving his friend lying in the rain and mud.

  TWENTY TWO

  Rick and Billy spent the night in the hotel suite. It took a good while, but Billy eventually started to relax. Both men played a couple games of pool while they discussed the hotel, why it had electricity, and why the EMP hadn’t affected it. After all, Rick, Chris and Billy had learned during their travels that there were multiple EMPS set off by the M.M. across the country, and until then they had yet to find anyplace not effected.

  That was another question Rick had asked Jackie that he had averted answering. Why was the building unaffected? As soon as the EMP had gone off, everything else had returned to the fifteenth century.

  They discussed their theories, none of which was practical. Rick jokingly suggested aliens had landed on the building, and the EMP was from the mother ship, which had blasted the electrical grid. Billy commented by saying that meant Jackie was either an alien himself or was holding the aliens captive in the kitchen and using their technology to keep the building going. Both men had a few good laughs before going to sleep for the night.

  The next morning they awoke to a knock on the door, after which another man in a black jumpsuit entered the room. He informed them that they’d been invited to lunch. Rick and Billy showered then put on clean clothes, which one of Jackie’s soldiers had laundered the night before and returned to them. The sensation of clean cotton on their bodies was a welcoming feeling the men didn’t realize they missed until they felt the freshly washed clothes against their skin.

  After dressing they stepped into the hallway, where they met two more soldiers.

  “I’m Corporal Richards, and this is Sergeant First Class Neafus,” one of them said. “We’ll be your escorts today. If you have any questions or need anything at all, we’re here to serve you on behalf of the M.M. and Colonel Jackie.”

  Richards was short and stocky, with a military haircut, and he spoke in an intelligent, articulate manner. Neafus was taller and thinner but seemed just as bright as his counterpart, although he spoke with a deep Southern drawl that made him a bit difficult to understand, especially because he spoke rather quickly.

  “You know, Corporal Richards, one of these days you might just want to get promoted. Well, if you can ever pass the exam,” Neafus said with a laugh, when the men were in the elevator. “When our shift is done, you can come down to the parking garage and help me work on my bitching-ass Camaro.”

  Richards ignored him, looking only at Billy and Rick. “If you gentlemen would please follow us…” he said, as they stepped off the elevator.

  The dining room was located on the first floor. It was a long, rectangular room with a dozen tables that sat at least five people each. A white tablecloth adorned each one, but the only table that was ready with plates, glasses, and silverware was the one where Jackie sat. He was in fact the only person in the room other than the two soldiers who had escorted Rick and Billy.

  “Please join me,” Jackie said, gesturing them to his table.

  The two soldiers stood at their post near the doorway. The only other door in the room was the one Rick and Billy assumed led to the kitchen.

  After walking through the dining room, which was very elegant, with spectacular paintings on the walls of majestic ocean scenes, and flawless crown molding, both men joined Jackie at the table.

  “I hope you don’t mind—and I mean no disrespect, sir—but I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

  “Sure, Rick. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, sir, first off, my friend Billy and I do appreciate all your hospitality. We really do.”

  Jackie replied with a stern “But?”

  “It’s just that we have another friend who’s…Well, we need to go meet her. We’d very much like to bring her back here.”

  “Well, Rick, I’ll be quite honest with you,” Jackie said. “You’ve cost me time. I gave you a tour. I’ve answered your questions. And I’m here taking my time now. Don’t get me wrong—I like you. You’re my kind of people, but my time isn’t free. Think of it like an investment. I’ve invested in you. The M.M. has invested in you. We need to get our return on that investment. Now that’s not too unfair, is it?”

  “What are you saying, Colonel Jackie? Are you saying we can’t leave?” Billy asked.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. You need to relax and enjoy yourselves. I’m only saying you can’t leave right now. All you need to do is work for a while, and then we can have this conversation again. I’ll have a few of my men fetch Chris and bring her back here—no problem. I just need to know where she is.”

  “With all due respect, I don’t think we told you her name,” Rick stated bluntly, looking directly at the colonel.

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s not get caught up in little details such as names. Have I not been very civil to this point? Can’t we just enjoy this meal?”

  A few minutes of silence lingered as Rick and Billy sat there and watched Jackie chew his food. As they were having their discussion, two waiters had come in and served them fresh fruit, vegetables, and what appeared to be smoked chicken. Although Jackie continued to speak between bites, Billy and Rick didn’t touch their food, nor did they say a single word.

  “Colonel?” Billy finally said. “We intend on coming back.” He wasn’t sure Jackie was buying into the load of garbage he was trying to sell him, but he thought it was worth a shot.

  The colonel wiped his mouth. “Billy, there’s no more room for discussion.”

  “I see,” said Billy.

  Billy and Rick looked at each other. Although Rick was trying to contain the anger building inside him, he knew he was still visibly angry. Rick then nodded at Billy. Both men stood from the table and headed toward the door.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Jackie called out. “Please sit down, and we can enjoy this fine food.”

  Billy and Rick ignored him and continued toward the entrance. With a nod to the two guards, they stepped in front of the doorway. Neafus and Richards were holding double-barrel shotguns. Without another second’s delay, in unison Billy and Rick rushed toward the two guards, w
ho by then were only a few feet away.

  As Neafus raised his shotgun toward Billy, Billy rammed him with his shoulder with the force of an NFLlinebacker, knocking him backward and unconscious, his head bouncing off the floor.

  Richards raised his shotgun toward Rick and pulled the trigger just as Billy made contact with his body, causing him to miss Rick entirely. Rick punched Richards as hard as he could in the face, splitting open the bridge of his nose.

  “Damn, my nose!” he said, grasping his face as blood poured from between his fingers. “I think you broke my nose!”

  Rick, fueled with anger, hit Richards with a series of punches that ended the fight as quickly as it had started. He was on the floor when Rick, with his heavy boot, kicked him once more to ensure he was unconscious.

  Jackie, having witnessed two of his men being taken out in a matter of seconds, yelled for his guards after he picked up his plate and hurled it against the wall in a fit of rage.

  Rick and Billy peered into the hallway, where a group of soldiers was moving quickly toward them.

  “Oh, damn!” Rick said.

  Billy picked up a shotgun from the floor; checking it to see if it was loaded, it had no ammo. Billy tossed the weapon on the floor, and quickly retreated into the dining room with Rick. He closed the door behind them, locking it from the inside.

  “It’s a thick door,” Jackie said, “but it won’t hold them for long.”

  Rick and Billy moved through the dining room, running past the fine dining tables, toward the kitchen. Once they were in the kitchen, they stopped dead in their tracks, no longer caring about the guards in pursuit of them or the danger at hand. Rick and Billy stood in awe as they looked at the cooks; their white aprons were completely covered in blood. As soon as the cooks saw the two intruders, they dropped everything and ran to the back of the kitchen, almost stumbling over one another as they pushed through a doorway on the far side of the room.

  The stainless-steel counters were covered in what undoubtedly were human body parts: legs, thighs, fingers, and every other part imaginable. The smell throughout the kitchen was sickening; Rick was barely able to keep himself from vomiting. Billy stood motionless, staring in silence.

  Hands, feet, and torsos, all covered in blood, were spread all around them. The hum of a meat grinder that hadn’t been turned off rang out, echoing off the walls.

  “What the hell is this?” Billy said. “This isn’t what the M.M. is supposed to be. What the hell are they doing?”

  The only thing he thought in the few seconds before darkness came over him was that he knew exactly what was happening and why. Those bastards are eating the people from the city. Like a puzzle everything suddenly fit together, but it was too late. Rick and Billy had let their guards down and were struck hard on head from behind.

  TWENTY THREE

  Billy woke up in an empty room that was ten feet by ten feet, with a door made of mesh wire. He and Rick were, no doubt, in a cell. The only light came from a single bulb hanging by a wire attached to the ceiling in the hallway outside.

  Rick was still unconscious on the floor and bleeding from the back of his head. Billy’s head was pounding as he crawled toward him.

  “Rick, Rick wake up.”

  Rick didn’t respond.

  Then Billy heard the sound of footsteps. Boots, he thought. Maybe it’s one of those pricks in the jumpsuits. A moment later a soldier stepped in front of the cell and slid a plate under the door. Billy knew exactly what it was.

  “It’s ground beef. Eat it if you’re hungry,” the guard said, laughing.

  When the guard stepped away, Billy pushed the plate back under the door. Human flesh would never be on his list of fine cuisine. He sat there thinking and waiting, until eventually the light went out. Rick hadn’t moved, and Billy knew he was alive only because he had taken his pulse and used his shirt to stop the bleeding.

  In the darkness of the cell, having fallen asleep, Billy eventually awoke to find Rick was no longer there. After that it was day after day. No Rick and no contact with anyone other than the guard delivering food that Billy refused to eat. It didn’t matter how hungry he was; there was no way he was going to human meat.

  The plates would come in, and Billy would slide them back out. The lights would go off, and then they would come back on. The three hash marks, one for each day, Billy had scratched on the wall were the only indication of how long he’d been in that cell. He was beginning to believe he might never know the fate of his friend.

  Rick awoke late on the third night. He found himself hanging by his wrists from a hook, with his feet bound. The hook was securely attached to a support beam in the ceiling. The force of his body weight pulling on his shoulders caused tremendous pain, but at that moment, the pain was the least of his worries. The room was dark except for the light from a lava lamp that sat on the floor in the far corner.

  The taste of blood was in his mouth, and his head was killing him. Rick tried with all his might to free himself, but it was useless, as he lacked the strength. As he hung in that empty room, his mind wandered, as time seemed to pass ever so slowly.

  He was unsure how long he’d been there or how long he’d been unconscious, when eventually the only door opened. A soldier entered, and this time Rick was sure that, one way or another, the man would pay.

  “You look scared,” the soldier said.

  “Scared? No, I’m not scared. But I am going to kill you,” Rick said with a slight laugh.

  The soldier stood looking at Rick, also laughing. “Really? I’d like to see how you’ll manage that.”

  Because the guard was stupid enough to stand too close, Rick managed to swiftly lift his legs and wrap the rope that bound his feet around the guard’s neck. Rick grunted and cursed as the soldier struggled to breathe. He kept squeezing until he felt the guard’s neck snap. As he let go, the man’s lifeless body fell to the floor.

  It took every bit of strength Rick possessed to swing his body and kick himself off the wall. On his third attempt, he was able to swing far enough to hit a light switch three feet from him with his foot. The room instantly lit up. Having underestimated how bright the light would be, he instinctively closed his eyes, blinded for a moment. After his eyes adjusted, Rick, using the wall to his advantage, pulled up until he reached the large hook that held the rope binding his wrists. He lifted and pulled his body up, freeing himself. After dropping to the floor, he landed on his feet, adrenaline and rage flooding his veins.

  After searching the guard’s body, Rick used a small pocketknife with a chipped blade to cut away the ropes that secured his feet and wrists. He had no other weapon except the knife, but it was all he needed. The M.M., whoever they were, had made a fatal error—they had pissed off the wrong person.

  Rick moved toward the door, stopping for only a second to listen for movement outside the room. Hearing nothing, he opened the door just enough to see outside. After seeing the hallway was clear, he moved quickly. Unsure where Billy was, Rick kept going until he saw another M.M. soldier with his back to him.

  Without hesitation and with rage like that of a caged animal now freed, Rick moved behind his prey, covered the man’s mouth, and cut his throat. He scowled as he shoved the guard’s body to the floor. The shotgun the guard had strapped to his back was a bonus Rick knew would shift the odds in his favor.

  The room adjacent to the hallway was much larger than the room where Rick had woken up. Two guards stood next to a coffee machine five feet from where Rick was peering around the corner. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was a rush he wasn’t about to try to contain. He crept up, stopping just behind the two guards.

  Rick put his fingers to his lips and let out a light whistle. He wanted to see their faces as he took their lives. When they turned around, the shotgun in his hands was pointing at the guard on the right. Rick pulled the trigger. After a thunderous explosion, the guard was instantly dead.

  As the guard on the left reached feebly for his weapon
, Rick hit him across the face with the stock of the shotgun. The guard fell to the floor, landing on his back and spilling his coffee across his chest. As he clutched his face and screamed from the blow and the burning-hot coffee, Rick placed his foot on the guard’s neck, pointed his weapon at his face, and pulled the trigger.

  Rick was now on the loose and ready to take on an army. These bastards are going to get what’s coming to them, he thought, as he moved through the building, searching for Billy.

  Billy was sitting in his cell when he heard the gunshots. He’d been waiting anxiously to find out what would happen next when the sound of the shotgun put a smile on his face. The guard outside the cell, who also heard the shots, looked at Billy through the mesh wire, his expression revealing just how nervous he was.

  “You know, you done messed up, son,” Billy said. “That’s my friend you pissed off. He’s going to kill you.”

  “Shut the hell up!”

  Billy continued to wait, hoping that with a little luck, his friend would find him. It was early in the morning when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall. At first he had thought it was his Rick, but the sound was different. Something was being dragged. Moments later two men approached the cell, and it was clear they were dragging a body behind them.

  The two men stopped and dropped the limp body directly in front of Billy’s cell. Billy peered through the wire, staring at the body. He knew it wasn’t Rick, because this was certainly a female, but who was it? Beaten to within an inch of her life, whoever was lying on the floor was barely recognizable. Her face was completely discolored, her bra missing, her body stained red with blood, and she wore only panties.

  When the realization hit Billy, he was unable to breathe. He moved to the cell door, trying to scream, but nothing came out.