The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence

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The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence Page 23

by Zuko, Joseph


  They bump fists.

  “How’s business been?” Dominic asked as he ran a towel over his forehead.

  Ben scanned the nearly empty gym.

  One man, in his late sixties, walked slowly on a treadmill in the corner of the room. All of his workout gear was clearly from the 80’s. From his bright orange foam covered headphones to his hot pink shorts. The man was positively retro.

  “Business is booming.”

  “It’s the end of the year. Next week you’ll get all those suckers signing back up as they try to stick to their resolutions. You’ll be fine.”

  Ben mulled it over as he pulled off his shin guards.

  “How’ve you and Lisa been?” Dominic inquired as he peeled off the rest of his gear.

  Ben tossed his stuff off to the side and got up from the bench. “Have you tried this new post workout drink I got?” He headed for the front counter.

  Company t-shirts hung from the wall. In bold font they read Sweat and Tears Gym. Colorful containers of protein powder, vitamins, creatine, amino acids and fish oils were stacked neatly on shelves that covered every inch of wall space behind the counter.

  Dominic followed him. Ben pulled out two yellow packets from a box that sat under the counter. He pinched them between his fingers as he swung the packets back and forth to work the powder into one end.

  “If you need to talk. I’m always here to listen.”

  Ben raised his eyebrows and shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tore the packets open and emptied the contents into his bottle on the counter. “Things are going really, really, really great.”

  A bell chimed above the front door as it opened. An arctic like blast hit both men. Snow fell onto the door mat as a gentleman in his sixties stepped through and quickly closed the frozen door behind himself.

  He carried a yoga mat and wore a gray knitted stocking cap. A black eyepatch covered his right eye and a deep scar ran from under the patch to the middle of his cheek. A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. His voice was rough as gravel as he spoke. “Hello, fellas. It’s a tidbit nipply out there.” He wiped the melting snow off his thick and amazingly well-groomed goatee.

  Ben smiled at his gym patron and gave him a nod, “Hello, Duke. I didn’t think I’d see you here today. Please put out the cigarette.”

  Duke’s good eye floated down to the burning white stick tucked between his lips. He acted as if he forgot it was there. “Gadzooks, how long has this cancer stick been there?” Duke inhaled deeply. The red tip burned bright. In a matter of seconds he had it down to the filter. He stepped back to the door, cracked it open, exhaled the large cloud of smoke and tossed the butt out into a snow drift. “There we are. I’m never one to be wasteful.”

  Dominic rolled his eyes, “Why come to the gym everyday if you can’t stop smoking?”

  “Deputy, I don’t trust a man if he doesn’t have a few vices, and at my age quitting is for losers.” Duke stepped from the door and over to the coat rack. “I come to the gym to burn calories in Lisa’s yoga class. If I don’t, I won’t feel like I earned my six pack of brew tonight. I can’t spend New Year’s Eve sober, can I?” Duke asked as he dusted off the last flakes of snow that had fallen onto his broad shoulders. He pulled off his heavy coat and hung it up. His body was trim and it looked like it belonged to a much younger man.

  “I think you’ll be the only one in her class today,” Ben poured the powder into Dominic’s water bottle.

  “That makes me teacher’s pet, I guess.” Duke noticed Dominic staring at his eyepatch. “Can I help you with something, officer?”

  Dominic replaced the cap on his bottle and gave it a gentle shake. He stared out the gym’s front window unable to look at the man as he asked his question, “Why are you still wearing the eyepatch?”

  Ben came to Duke’s rescue. “Come on, man.”

  “Doctor Evens says your eye is totally fine. You only had to wear the patch for the first couple of weeks. It’s been a year since your accident.” Dominic fought his growing smile.

  Duke raised his voice, “It wasn’t an accident.” He caught himself. Paused and allowed the anger to pass. “It was an attack.”

  “Evans says you have 20-20 vision, and wearing that patch is just your way of begging for attention. What do you think?”

  “Well, I’ll have to have a chat with the good Doctor about his patient confidentiality practices then, won’t I?” Duke pulled off his cap as he stepped closer to Dominic. Shoulder length salt and pepper hair escaped from its wool prison. The hair, goatee, eyepatch and scar made Duke look like he just stepped out of a Lucky Strike magazine advertisement from the 1970’s. Rugged and handsome.

  Dominic narrowed his brow and kicked on his Super-Cop voice, “So, why are you still wearing that patch, Duke?”

  “We’re just wondering, that’s all. It has been a year since you went on that hunting trip,” Ben said with a friendly smile, trying his best to de-escalate the situation.

  Duke lowered his voice and bass resonated from his chest as he spoke, “Well boys, isn’t it obvious?”

  Dominic pondered what he could possible mean. He looked to Ben for any clues.

  “It clearly goes with my motif.” Duke nabbed a hairband out of his pocket. “Now if you gentlemen will excuse me. I don’t want to be late for Mrs. Williams’ class.” Duke pulled his long hair out of his face and back into a bun. He secured the band and made sure the bun was tight enough to survive Lisa’s fierce yoga instruction. He walked away with all the confidence in the world.

  “What. A. Kook.” Dominic took a swig from his bottle. The second the post workout drink hit his tongue he did a spit take. “This tastes like shit,” he said as he wiped the tainted water from his mouth.

  “I know.” Ben gritted his teeth and choked down a sip. He coughed out the words, “I’m never gonna sell it all.”

  Duke entered the locker room, stowed his clothes and boots. The other sixty-year-old man in the retro gear entered the locker room.

  “Sheldon, you sexy old beast. How was your walk today?” Duke held out his hand and the two of them engaged in one of the manliest handshakes of all time.

  “Excellent, sir, excellent. I see you’re here to work on your chakras and drink some snake oil.” Sheldon teased as he opened his locker and fished out his gym bag.

  “That’s it, that’s it. You nailed it. Hey, how did that date go, with um, what was her name?” Duke asked, not letting the light ribbing faze him.

  “Morgan. Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Sheldon placed his Walkman and headphones into his bag. “The date started well. Her face was a five, but her body was a solid ten. She laughed at my jokes. Sexual innuendos. Hand on my thigh. I felt like it’s locked up and in the bag.”

  Duke nodded at Sheldon, “Nice.”

  Sheldon continued, “I go to drown a urinal cake and when I got back a biker is taking a whisky shot out of her cleavage.”

  “Damn.” Duke dropped his head.

  “Turns out she was his old lady back in the day.” Sheldon pulled a fresh shirt from his bag.

  “So that was that?”

  Sheldon changed out his top. “I was in my going out clothes, so I figured I’d stick around. He ended up being pretty cool and we all headed back to her place.”

  “Please tell me that’s the end of the story.”

  “I wish I could, Duke.” Sheldon took a deep breath before he kept going. “Let me ask you something, really personal.”

  “Nope.”

  Sheldon was no longer listening, only telling. His mind had left the locker room. He was back at the date night, like a Vet telling a horrifying story about his time in Nam. “You ever choke a man? Sexually?”

  Duke’s upper lip snarled, “Excuse me?”

  “It got dark at the end. Real dark.” Sheldon looked drained. The memory was too much.

  Silence.

  Duke’s visible eye was opened as wide as it could go as was the one hidden unde
r the patch. He could no longer bear the silence anymore and he said, “A man’s gotta find release. I guess.”

  More silence.

  Sheldon raised his head. His face was beaming.

  “Oh, you, joking son-of-a-bitch. You got me good,” Duke said as he laughed out the awkward feeling that had crawled into his body.

  Sheldon’s face went flat, “We did have a three way, but he choked me.”

  Duke’s laugh was cut short. He paused and squinted at the man across from him.

  “Oh, you got me again. Damn you’re good.”

  Sheldon pointed to the faint bruises on his neck. “I mean it Duke. It was the best damn orgasm I’d ever had in my life.” Sheldon sported half a smile.

  Duke swallowed hard and scratched at the hairs on his chin. He searched and searched for something to say. Finally he landed on, “Cool.”

  Duke exited the locker room and headed for a room at the back of the gym. The lights were out, but he could hear the sound of worldly trance music creeping out from under the closed door. He turned the knob and flipped on the lights.

  A beautiful woman with dirty blonde hair lay flat on her back with both hands pressed against her stomach. A stylish mat was her only comfort from the hardwood floor. She wore a skin-tight black outfit that showed off her perfect yogi body.

  “I’m sorry, Lisa, am I early?” Duke paused and waited for her response before he closed the door behind himself.

  Her voice was smooth and calm. She spoke without opening her eyes, “I didn’t think I was going to have anyone in class today.”

  “No blizzard or holiday would keep me from perfecting my downward dog,” Duke said as he laid out his mat.

  Lisa glided up to a sitting position. She looked like Dracula floating out of a crypt. When she got upright her lids popped open. The whites of her eyes were streaked with bright red blood vessels. Wet tracks led past her temples and the tears had pooled in her ears.

  Duke blurted out, “I usually cry after the hard workout.”

  Lisa huffed out a smile as she rubbed at her eyes and wiped away the tears. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Duke knelt onto his mat.

  “For not asking me what’s wrong.”

  “I might not be married at the moment, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand women. If you wanted to really talk about what’s wrong, there is nothing on God’s green Earth that would stop you.”

  “You’re right.” She breathed out a long, deep and clearing breath. “Are you ready to sweat?”

  “I love it when a beautiful lady asks me that,” Duke joked.

  Chapter 3

  Jacob unlocked the last shackle around his ankle. He climbed to his feet and stood on the interior wall of the bus. The steel beast lay on its side and the seats that held the dead bodies hung from the wall on Jacob’s left. Snow drifted through the busted windows. It was dark in the ravine and darker inside the bus. Jacob moved his arms, legs, spine and neck to check for broken bones. Everything moved normally.

  “Hurry up boy, let me loose,” Arthur hung from his chair. Blood caked his white hair. Jacob knelt down and worked at the man’s restraints. “Don’t worry. I’m not hurt. It’s the guard’s blood.”

  After a few twists of the keys Arthur was released. Jacob helped the old-timer to his shaky feet.

  “Oh, God it’s cold,” Arthur held his arms close to his chest.

  Jacob noticed the wind blowing through his long hair. He understood that his orange jumper was damp with blood and melting snow, but he couldn’t feel the chill in the air.

  “Help me get his coat,” Arthur moved closer to the dead guard. He attempted to move the zipper, but his fingers didn’t possess the dexterity. Jacob took over and muscled the heavy coat off the limp body. He helped Arthur into the warm fabric and zipped it up tight. Arthur was the son Jacob never wanted.

  “That’s better. Thank you.”

  Jacob checked the guard’s belt. He found cuffs, zip ties, pepper spray, a handgun and extra ammo. Then he found what he was looking for, a flashlight. He clicked the button. A cone of light flashed over the gore inside the bus. Blood and broken bodies were everywhere. The fact that the two of them were alive was a miracle.

  A grunting sound grabbed their attention, “Get me down.”

  “Regan?” Arthur stepped close to the grunting. Jacob panned the light over to the noise. It reflected Regan’s shiny scalp. The man hung from his seat, three feet off the ground and was at Jacob’s mercy.

  “Are you hurt?” Arthur crouched in front of Regan.

  “I don’t think so,” Regan said as he pulled against his chains.

  Jacob moved closer and reached out with the keys.

  Regan lifted his head, “Was it forty-five?”

  Jacob paused. He looked back and forth between the two cons. Their faces grew with excitement. Jacob extended his hand and raised his thumb into the air.

  “Over forty-five. You were a machine,” Regan’s smile was contagious. The game would have to continue. Rules said they would have to wait until the next day to ask again.

  Jacob removed Regan’s cuffs and helped him out of his seat. He was a bigger man than Jacob. His chest was shaped like a barrel and his arms were squeezed into his jumper.

  “It’s so damn cold. My nuts are climbing into my body. Where’s the other guard?” Regan’s words puffed out in white clouds.

  Jacob moved his light over the interior until they found the second guard. His body was a few feet from the front of the bus. His last moments of pain frozen on his twisted face. Glass crunched under their boots as they moved to the front of the vehicle.

  “Sorry Jacob, I hope you don’t freeze to death, but that jacket’s for someone that can feel this blistering winter air.” Regan removed the coat from the guard’s body. He wrapped it around his shoulders and zipped it up quickly.

  The bus shook around them.

  Regan squatted down. “It’s rolling over.”

  A voice boomed from above them, “What the fuck!”

  Jacob aimed the light straight up in the air above them. Zarren twisted his massive body in his seat. He sat only one foot above their heads. Chunks of meat from the bus driver and deer dropped off of his broad chest. The flesh landed at the three convict’s feet. The monster flexed and strained against the restraints. Grunting like an animal.

  “Calm down. We have the keys. Jacob will climb up and get you out of there.” Arthur elbowed Jacob, encouraging him to climb up and release the beast.

  As Jacob climbed the seats he became a little worried Zarren might not adhere to the same code of conduct he had laid out for himself.

  Jacob stood on the lower set of seats, he reached and quickly unfastened the chains that held Zarren to his chair. He was good at reading other humans, but Zarren was like staring at a marble statue. His eyes gave no clue to his state of mind. The last lock popped and the monster was set free. Jacob jumped down and the three convicts stepped back as Zarren climbed out of his chair. The whole bus shook again when his boots hit the ground. The big man straightened his back and towered over the others. He inhaled a lung full of the cold winter air.

  “We should get moving,” Arthur pointed to the blown out front window.

  “Where should we go?” Regan jammed his hands into his jacket’s pockets. Jacob stepped passed Zarren and headed for the front window. The safety glass was pink from the mix of snow and blood. The bus driver’s body hung from his seat. The deer’s mangled torso was cut almost in half. Its head, neck and shoulders were sticking through the windshield and entwined with the bus driver’s corpse. A gallon of blood pooled below. The tail end of the deer hung by threads from the front of the bus.

  “It’ll be hours before the hospital notices we haven’t arrived.” Arthur inched in behind Jacob. The bus was laying on its door side. All of the windows had bars. The only way out was the windshield.

  “We need to get out of the cold.” Regan kicked his foot at one of the bodies, testing
to see if it was truly dead.

  “A town.” Zarren’s words were as cold as the winter chill itself. He wanted to get back to work. Before the law caught up with them. Before they were forced into the state run hospital to wait to die. He wanted to spill blood.

  “Yeah, let’s find the closest town and play,” Regan said as he nodded his head.

  Jacob was excited to hear that they were all on the same page. He pointed at the dead corrections officer on the ground close to Regan. Then he made a gun with his hand signaling what he wanted. Regan squatted down and liberated the firearm. He passed it over to Jacob.

  He aimed at the windshield and emptied the gun into it. The glass gave way and the weight of the deer crushed its way through the clear barrier. As the animal fell, its antlers tore the driver in half. A couple hundred pounds of meat fell before Jacob and a gust of icy wind peppered them with snowflakes. Jacob passed the gun back to Regan. Then he climbed over the two carcasses. His hands squished through their organs as he pushed his way through the window and stepped out into the snow. He could see the red stains on his scarred hands but he couldn’t feel the sticky texture or the remaining warmth from their slowly cooling bodies. The snow was knee deep and wet. It was going to be a slow and miserable hike off of this mountain.

  Outside the bus Jacob could feel something he had not felt in a long time. Freedom. If they hurried and had a bit of luck on their side they could find a nearby town. If they did, he would be able to add to his Reckoning. There wouldn’t be time to stalk his prey. He wouldn’t worry about properly disposing of the bodies. If he could find a town, hit it hard for one night he just might reach his goal.

  The others joined him out in the snow. The fresh air filled their lungs. They sizzled with excitement as they scanned through the thick trees that surrounded them.

  Regan tucked the gun into his jacket pocket. His smile spread ear to ear. “I’m fucking rock hard right now. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe we survived that crash. You know what this means.” His eyes bugged out of his skull as he continued, “The Universe wants us to go on a spree. I know we all like to do our own thing, but we should stay together. If the four of us hit one town. Oh my God.”

 

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