Eyes wide with fear, he turned and ran for his life. He made it back to the elevator and the doors closed just as the first ones came within arm's reach. The elevator rose, then stopped, and all went black.
CHAPTER SIX
David and Ivy, Choppers and Aliens - Late Afternoon, Wed Sep 4
The abrupt shift to bright daylight left David and Ivy momentarily blinded. Perhaps it was the cannabis oil or sheer adrenalin, but the sound of the helicopters sent them into a panicked run.
Ivy, in far better shape than David, tugged him by the arm as she tried to get them to cover quickly. They passed the alien's body that lay face down on the ground fifty feet from the entrance. Ivy tried not to look, but she could not make herself turn away from the gruesome scene.
The creature looked so small and thin in the light of day. The large head out of proportion with the rest of its body. Gray skin. The gaping wounds she had created. The puddle of oily black blood in which it lay.
Worst of all was the smell they inhaled in large gasps as they ran by. It caught in her throat and made her gag and then feel as if she was about to heave. It made her dizzy. She brought her arm to her face to diffuse the effect. David covered his mouth and nose with his hand. His face seemed to take on a green aura.
They burst through the door of the observatory, relieved to be out of sight of whoever was in the helicopters and grateful to have distance from the stench.
Having forgotten what waited for them inside, they slipped on the pool of alien blood. Ivy let go of David the moment she lost her balance, and wind milled her arms before slamming her revolver-wielding hand onto the ground before going down on her hip. Gore spattered and smeared across her boots and the back of her legs. The jolt sent a wave of pain up her spine, and the shock made her scream.
The moment she let David go, he went straight to his hands and knees, his palms and kneecaps directly in the inky goo. The impact stopped his breathing, and after a long moment, he let out an explosive groan.
When it came time for both of them to inhale, the contained and concentrated rotting smell of the dead aliens inside made them dry heave. They scurried to the doorway on hands and knees, trying to get their faces outside into fresher air.
The sound of the helicopters reached deafening levels. No doubt they would land nearby at any moment. Wind whipped dust into the air, and Ivy imagined it was that wind that caused the alien's body that lay on the ground to move slightly.
No one was more surprised than she when it pushed itself up off the ground and shuffled toward them. Its movements reminded her of the alien they found on the ship. Though this time, it was more purposeful.
Her eyes widened, and she let out a shrill scream that, because of the helicopters, no one heard. Not even David who sat next to her. A shadow passed over the area and they saw the front end of a helicopter touch down. The alien continued to move toward them and Ivy realized her revolver was in the room where she had fallen a moment earlier. Frozen with fear, however, she could do nothing. She watched with horror and fascination as it kept coming.
Then it jerked violently back and forth several times and fell to the ground. Moments later, several soldiers emerged with their rifles shouldered, scanning the area. When they caught sight of Ivy and David, they signaled to others she couldn't see.
She felt dizzy. Everything seemed distant as if it were happening to someone else and she was only observing. A soldier helped her to her feet and asked her something, but she couldn't make sense of it. Two men were covering the alien's body with a tarp and wrapping it.
She looked up and saw another helicopter, a different kind, circling the area. It had a pair of stubby wings weighed down with different weaponry. To her right, four soldiers were trying to get into the alien ship. David was nodding and saying something to another soldier.
Ivy took a few steps toward the helicopter that had landed closest to them. In the distance, moving fast and close to the ground, a small object approached. It was hard to discern except for a pair of faint blue lights. The helicopter circling turned toward it and moved to intercept.
The three soldiers urging them toward the helicopter ran. They tugged at Ivy and David roughly, dragging them and tossing them onboard. A fourth man already there moved away from the machine gun port and helped pull David onto a stretcher that lay lengthwise in the middle of the cabin.
"Go, go, go," he screamed into his radio as he pulled the door closed. They took off so quickly, Ivy was certain her stomach was still on the ground.
The inside of the helicopter was small. Four canvas seats hung along the back wall. They directed her to one and she sat. Two of the men manned the machine gun ports on either side of the cabin behind the pilot and co-pilot. The other two worked on securing David onto the stretcher. When they finished, one came to the back and sat at the opposite end of the row of seats and strapped himself in.
As they climbed, she watched what she now realized was another alien ship fire something toward the advancing helicopter. A split second later, the helicopter let loose with a barrage of rockets. Whatever the aliens launched exploded in a huge gray billowing cloud well in front of the helicopter.
Any of the rockets that flew through the cloud stopped and fell out of the sky. She felt more than heard half a dozen explosions pop from the desert below.
The helicopter itself tried to avoid the cloud but couldn't climb fast enough. It disappeared into it momentarily but instead of popping out at the expected place based on its trajectory, it plummeted with its rotors dead. She sensed the collective gasp of everyone on board as they watched the helo crash and explode into flames.
A second helicopter, exactly like the one that just crashed, blew by them as if they were standing still. A few seconds later, a third helicopter, like the one they were in, flew by and Ivy saw a group of soldiers in the back waiting to exit.
More explosions, but they sounded distant now and she couldn't see what was happening. She assumed they must have put significant distance between them and the observatory.
Then she looked at David and watched as a man, a medic she assumed, put an IV into David's arm. David spoke with the medic and motioned him toward her. The man patted his arm and nodded and made his way to Ivy and handed her a small paper envelope marked with the letters KI. Potassium iodide.
She looked at him confused and he made a drinking motion with his thumb and then reached into a cargo pocket and pulled out a Mylar pouch of water. She opened the envelope and pulled out a foil packet containing a single pill. She popped it out, put it in her mouth and drank it down with all the water.
The man reached behind her and pulled around straps to secure her in the seat. He clipped them in place and then he put a headset over her ears and the noise became much more tolerable.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" came the man's tinny voice through the headphones.
Ivy nodded although she was anything but okay. A brilliant white light filled the helicopter for a moment. Ivy saw purple spots before her as if someone took a flash photo. She was about to ask the man what had just happened when the helicopter bucked and shook. Alarms buzzed.
Then the helicopter dropped like they were on an amusement park ride. Her stomach lurched and then she got that awful feeling of a rollercoaster heading downhill fast.
The sudden drop sent the medic who wasn't strapped in, crashing head first into the ceiling. When they seemed to catch air again, he crashed to the floor limp and twisted across David's legs. A trickle of dark blood oozed from his nose.
She was helpless to do anything. There was no way she could unstrap herself to examine him without risking the same fate. All she could do was look away from the horrifying sight and try to squelch the shame rising in her. She knew it made no logical sense, yet her lack of action felt like cowardice.
"Oh my god, what the hell was that?" said a voice in her headset.
"No idea," said another.
One gunner pushed the weapon to the side, rose from his s
eat and peered out trying to see what had happened. "Sweet mother of god," he said.
"What is it, Ryan?"
"Broken Arrow. Hold on."
Again, there was another jolt, and the helicopter seemed to drop from the sky. She felt almost weightless for an instant and then slammed into her seat as the blades caught air again. She thought for sure they would crash but the helicopter kept climbing.
The chopper banked and changed course. "Navajo Base. Navajo Base. This is Guardian 6. We have a broken arrow. I repeat broken arrow. We are inbound ETA 30 mikes. Packages secure."
"Roger that, Guardian 6. Imagery confirms the detonation of a small nuclear device south and east of us."
"Rodriguez, is it safe to unbuckle? We have a man down back here." Ivy realized the man in the back row with her had put a headset on at some point and just spoke to the pilot.
"Yeah, I think we're okay. Who's down?"
"Dossey."
"Goddammit."
"Uh, fellas," she said, "I'm a doctor." The man next to Ivy gave a look of surprise as if she had suddenly appeared.
"Seriously?" he said.
"I shit you not."
"Let's get to it then." They each unbuckled their safety harness. One gunner retrieved a first responder bag and handed it back. Ivy felt for Dossey's pulse on his wrist as she was reluctant to put any pressure on his neck. Luckily for him, he still had a heartbeat. She looked at her assistant’s name tag and read Kowalski.
"I need a cervical collar, pen light, and stethoscope," Ivy said. Kowalski rummaged through the bag and handed her the items. "Okay, I will slip this collar around his neck. I need you to carefully and gently keep his head from moving too much." He nodded. She noticed he was clenching his jaw and beads of sweat had formed on his face. "It'll be okay." He nodded.
She slid the collar around Dossey's neck and after she fastened it in place, they laid him on the floor next to David. She used the pen light and stethoscope to examine him. Didn't appear to be anything immediately life threatening. He might have a concussion or cracked his neck, but there was no way to tell under these circumstances.
She had barely finished getting him stable and returned to her seat when the chopper touched down and the door slid open. Medics helped her out and then attended to Dossey. Kowalski came out and stood next to her watching the ambulance drive away.
Ivy dragged her fingers through her hair and tugged at her clothing. "I believe I owe you gentlemen a couple of beers."
"No time for that, ma'am. We're just stopping to refuel. We have orders to take you to Colorado."
"Lord have mercy. Why are we going to Colorado?"
"General Jacobs wants to have a word with Dr. Hadley here," he said tipping his head toward the stretcher, "and I suppose he'll be wanting to talk to you too."
"General Jacobs?"
"He's in charge of the military response to whatever this is."
"If we don't get Dr. Hadley to a hospital soon the general will need a séance to talk to him."
"I understand, ma'am. We'll be there in a few hours, at most, and they have a full infirmary."
"All righty, then. Now about that beer."
"Ma'am, like I said we won't be here long."
"What if we make it one beer and I chug?"
Kowalski's face softened, and he shook his head. "Wait here and I'll see what I can scrounge up."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jim heads to Turnello's - Early evening Wed Sep 4
She had been a girl of seven or eight. Her black hair and the shape of her face reminded Jim of his daughter at that age. The resemblance to anything human went only that far. Her ashen-gray skin and white eyes made the blood smeared around her mouth and chin look unnaturally bright.
Under different circumstances, he might have thought she had been eating a cherry ice pop, but when she let out a low moan, he smelled the coppery scent that told him otherwise.
She stood in the narrow opening of the driver's side door that Jim pushed open, knowing one way or another he would have to deal with whatever was out there. Even now, with the scent of fresh blood in his nostrils, he wondered if she hadn't been in an accident. He stared at her in disbelief and abject horror as she snarled and came at him.
His left arm held the truck door open and even though the gap was narrow she came in with such unexpected force that she squeezed far enough in latching onto his forearm. Jim yelped like he had been stung and he jumped out of the truck trying to fling the girl off. He heard B.A. growling and barking behind him. The rain pelted his face.
He swung his arm and body back and forth trying to fling her free, but her small hands gripped with amazing force. Her teeth tore at the sleeve of his sweatshirt like she was a terrier nipping at his pant leg. If he didn't get her off soon, that vicious little mouth would get to his flesh, and he was as good as dead.
He put the pistol against her forehead and pulled the trigger. The sound echoed over the concrete and steel and the across the river.
She fell to the ground in a limp, twisted heap. A small amount blood pooled around her. The heavy rain washed it and the bits of bone and flesh away almost immediately. It was as if the sky itself did not want to witness her death and tried to erase any evidence.
Jim's legs trembled, and he sank to his knees. The cold wet concrete soaked his pants. He laid the gun on the roadway next to him and stared at the girl for a long moment.
He imagined his own daughter. Her face gray. Her mouth smeared with blood. He imagined her being gunned down like a rabid animal. Her body lying on the muddy ground. A cold iron hand seemed to crack through his chest and tried to wrench out his heart.
Rain soaked his hair and ran down his face. His breathing became ragged. The trembling in his legs moved up his entire body and caught in his throat. Then he closed his eyes and brought both his hands to his face trying to shield himself from the scene and sobbed like a child.
B.A. sat on his haunches up against Jim. He heard Tiny barking at them from the cab of the truck. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and checked his other arm to make sure she hadn't broken his skin. She hadn't. He picked up the pistol and put it into the pocket of the sweatshirt and walked back to the truck. B.A. jumped in.
He looked at the girl's body on the asphalt. His sadness was immense, and he could hardly contain it. He knew he’d had little choice, yet the act seemed somehow unforgivable.
He pulled the pistol from his pocket and ejected the magazine. Two cartridges left plus one in the chamber. He put the magazine back in. He counted the bodies on the pavement ahead of him. Thirteen on the ground, plus one crushed between two trucks. He counted the white dotted lines on the roadway and then stopped.
He sighed heavily. If his first rule had been to never, ever, pull into a rest stop, at least in New Jersey, then rule number two had to be never, ever, fall asleep in a vehicle again.
This was the second time it had happened and the second time he had a surprise visitor wake him. He had been very, very lucky but luck didn't last forever. He pulled his hood up trying to fend off the chill coming over him.
Though he couldn't see the sun, he could tell by the fading light it would be dark in a few hours. He needed to get off this bridge and there was no time like the present. He couldn't afford to wait out the rain, and in any case, he was soaked.
He needed to get to Turnello's place. Most of all, he needed to feel safe again. He had been going for days with little food, little sleep, and skating the edge of doom. A warm bed away from zombies trying to eat his face off the moment he closed his eyes was a necessity if he hoped to live much longer.
He got back into the truck, turned the key and put it in neutral. He spun the wheel to the right and then jumped out, gritted his teeth and pushed. He knew every step he took was another step closer to that safe place.
At the end of the bridge near the entrance was a large multi-car pile-up. In that mess of cars, he should be able to get into one and get jumper cables hooked up so he could sta
rt the truck.
Once the truck had momentum, it wasn't too bad a process getting close to where the cars were. He had to run frequently just to keep up, steering wildly with one arm and hanging on with the other. Once he was within twenty feet of the pile-up he jumped in, stopped the truck and put it in park.
He stood on the driver's side doorway and looked over the grim parking lot. He counted twenty-seven. Some had crashed into one another. Others had been trapped. A few cars still had people inside, and from the way they were moving, Jim could tell they weren't the living variety.
He realized the best thing to do at this point was to get the battery out of a car and to the truck for a boost. He searched the truck until he found a small tool kit with a pair of pliers.
Then he studied the cars, trying to find one suitable. With all the wreckage, you’d think it would’ve been easy to find one unoccupied and not so banged up he could access the engine compartment, but that wasn't the case.
After some perusal, he found a car that fit the bill. He worked at loosening the nut on the battery cables while doing his best to ignore a couple in the car next to him that made unintelligible grunts and moans while reaching greedily toward him through the windshield of their car. Thankfully they didn't seem to know how to unclip a seat belt.
He lifted the battery with both hands and struggled with it to the truck, his muscles burning from the burden. Than he dug out a set of jumper cables, unlatched the front hood, and connected the truck's battery to the car battery on the roadway. He climbed back into the truck and turned the ignition. The truck started right up. Both dogs perked up at the sound. He smiled at them and could swear they were smiling back.
He took the battery and the cables and put them in the truck bed. He knew it wasn't a long-term solution, but the way things were going, what was? He noticed the gas cans and shook them. They were all empty. He got into the truck and put it in gear. He swung into the oncoming lane and drove around the mass of cars and onto the road.
A Bad Day (Book 2): A Bad Day Page 4