The circle of birds, emitting a final burst of cries, broke their uniform circular flight path. They all headed for the doorway in which they’d entered. A second later and they had gone. Their calls echoed and grew more distant.
The tall man continued to pick up those that remained.
Johan removed the gun from his jacket.
Damn it, Kev. Shoot him!
Behind the crouched man, Kev, swaying on his feet, slowly rose. He aimed the gun at the man’s back.
Continuing in his morbid task, the man seemed to have no idea of the poised weapon behind him.
“Wait here,” said Johan. “I’m going to make sure he gets what’s coming to him.” He raised the gun. “Birds or no birds, this fucker’s dead.”
Simon stepped back, eyes fixed on something over Johan’s shoulder.
“What?”
With a trembling hand, Simon pointed. “Look.”
Johan turned.
A huge figure stood in the entrance, his back lit by the swinging bulbs of the corridor beyond. The light gleamed off his bald, mould-coloured head. His wide chest rose and fell deeply.
“Jesus,” said Johan and staggered backwards. His back thumped a machine and he quickly hid behind it. “What the hell is that thing?”
“We… we should warn Kev,” said Simon, voice shaking.
Johan waited a few seconds, watching the beast in the doorway.
“It doesn’t know we’re here,” he whispered finally. “Let’s keep it that way.”
“B-But Kev—”
“Kev’s dead already. But at least we can get away.”
And return with more firepower, thought Johan, appalled by the creature. With bombs and flamethrowers and fucking machine guns. Anything to wipe out the rest of these freaks.
The creature stepped forwards, revealing its uneven eyes and protruding, broken teeth.
“Behind you, brother,” it said.
The man with the armful of dead birds glanced up.
Behind him, Kev turned, his knees shook and his body wobbled. He blinked away sweat. The gun quivered in his hand.
Staring at the ogre that had entered, Kev sobbed and raised the gun.
The creature growled.
Kev screamed and pulled the trigger.
The sound punched through the air. Johan and Simon flinched. Immediately a metallic ting! rang out.
“Missed,” said the beast.
The man had gathered all the remaining dead birds and stepped over Richie’s charred corpse, retreating to the side.
“Run, Jacob,” he cried. “Don’t be a fool!”
Kev squeezed off another shot. This time, a spark jumped from the wall next to the creature.
Jacob roared and, ducking his smooth head, stormed down the walkway at Kev.
Seeing the thing charging at him like a gorilla, Kev wailed and squeezed the trigger again and again. The gun jerked around in his hand.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The first bullet caught Jacob on the outside edge of his shoulder. It ripped straight through in a spray of dark blood. The skin and flesh left in its wake hung in a messy flap. The impact, which would have spun any normal man like a top, didn’t faze Jacob. Stone faced in determination another bullet struck him in the stomach. The tattered and dirty shirt seemed to pop over his stretched abdomen in a red splattering. Still, Jacob steamed on, now halfway across the machine room.
“Help him!” said Simon.
Johan stood his ground and watched.
The next two bullets shot wide and hit the machines. The gun clicked. Empty.
Jacob, stepping on Richie’s corpse, thrust a large hand out. He grabbed Kev by the throat. In one effortless motion, the ogre scooped Kev off the ground.
The gun dropped from Kev’s hand.
“Christ!” cried Simon.
Johan struck him in the upper arm with the handle of his gun. “Shut up,” he hissed. “You want it to come after us?”
Swept through the machine room, Kev clutched at Jacob’s hand, struggling to unwrap the thick fingers from around his throat.
On reaching the wall, Jacob pressed Kev against it. The thud echoed around the room.
Kev kicked, his feet inches from the floor. Held at arm’s length, his desperate attacks flailed and missed.
“Waited,” said Jacob. “For you…”
He pulled back his free hand and curled it into a fist.
“No,” Kev choked, struggling to shake his head within the tight grip. “No, please!”
Jacob’s fist struck Kev in the stomach and ripped through his t-shirt, punching into the sagging bulge beneath the fabric.
Kev thrashed against the wall, heels beating against the brick.
Jacob pushed in further. Viscera poured down and slapped the floor between them. With his arm submerged almost up the elbow, Jacob grunted and jerked Kev up like a giant ventriloquist dummy.
Kev coughed out a glob of blood which hit Jacob in the face.
The monster licked his lips.
“Oh no,” groaned Simon. “Oh shit!”
Smiling, Jacob twisted his hand and pulled it out with a wet sucking sound. Dripping with gore, he held up his fist.
An off-white tube, speckled with blood, hung from his hand and trailed down between Kev’s legs. The other end hung from his open stomach, amidst a collection of other entrails, ripped veins and clustered yellow fat. It looked like organic tape had been pulled from a cassette and suspended in a tangled mess.
Jacob squeezed the tube and a clear liquid burst from its split sides.
“That’s it,” said the man with the birds in the shadows. “He has to learn.”
Simon gagged and spat on the floor.
Kev’s high-pitched warble faded, like someone slowly turned down his volume dial, until he hung in silence, his body shuddering.
Dropping the section of long intestine, Jacob lowered Kev.
He slid down the wall, his boots, sodden with blood, touching on the floor. Jacob removed his hand from Kev’s throat. Something purple and crisscrossed with blue veins dropped out of the young man’s stomach and hit the floor with a splat. Somehow, Kev managed to stay on his feet, slumped against the wall.
The man carrying the birds stepped forwards, his sharp nose sliding out of the darkness first. He cocked his head. “I think he’s still breathing.”
“Move!” whispered Johan.
Together, he and Simon dashed behind the final machine in the row.
Jacob clamped a hand on Kev’s left shoulder and, with his other hand, grabbed the upper arm. The ogre’s bicep tensed. Kev’s arm cracked as it twisted.
More blood dribbled from Kev’s mouth.
Working it loose, Jacob twisted Kev’s arm further, back and forth. The skin split just below the shoulder, instantly spattering the surrounding wall and Jacob’s front. It seemed to be the breakthrough Jacob needed. He pumped the arm up and down. The fingers twitched.
With a scraping noise, the arm popped free of the socket. Jacob held up his trophy, a clear ball of bone protruding from the tattered stump. Blood jettisoned from the haggard flesh left on the body. It painted the wall in a long streak.
“Don’t look,” said Johan under his breath. “Keep moving, Simon. You don’t want to look.”
Johan himself wished he hadn’t seen. He knew that no matter what happened, that first crack would echo in his mind for decades.
Jacob flung the arm down the walkway. It landed a few feet away from Richie’s body.
“More!” cried the birdman.
Jacob released Kev and staggered back. He hunched over, hand pressed to his own wounded stomach.
Kev, his spasms over, slipped down the wall and collapsed in a sitting position. His head drooped forwards.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jacob straightened and stretched his arms. Approaching Kev again, he grabbed the remaining arm, stepped back, and planted a foot against the shoulder. Jacob arched his back and pulled.
Johan and Simon q
uietly moved along the final row of machines, heading towards the wide doorway. Johan caught glimpses of Jacob between the throbbing mechanisms, straining with Kev’s arm grabbed by the wrist.
Crack!
Johan’s stomach turned.
At the final machine, they pressed their backs against the vibrating metal. Johan peered around the side.
The second removal hadn’t caused the same mess as the first. With his heart stopped, Kev had nothing to spray the blood out with. But blood did drip onto the floor from the hanging arm, which Jacob still held. A few stubborn veins and arteries, snarled strands of blue and red, kept the arm connected to the body. Jacob broke through them with a finger like they were nothing more than a spider web. Wincing, he hefted the arm in the same direction down the walkway. With a final look at the body, Jacob swayed and dropped to his knees.
The floor pulsed with the impact.
“Jacob?” The birdman carefully placed his dead feathered friends on the floor and ran over. He placed a hand on the giant’s back.
Jacob clutched both hands to his stomach and doubled over with a low moan.
“Let me see,” said the man and moved around to face him. “Jacob! Let me see.”
He forced Jacob’s hands away. They hung at his sides.
“No,” the man cried after a few seconds. “This… this is bad. Jacob, can you stand? We need to get you to Max.”
Jacob released a sound like a sigh of relief and flopped to the side. His shoulder struck the floor.
“Jacob!” cried the man fussing over him. “Look at this blood...” He pressed a hand to his brother’s stomach and another to his shoulder. “Jacob!”
Johan poked Simon in the arm. In the bad light, his friend looked tired, yet alert. Johan motioned towards the doorway.
“Now?” whispered Simon. “But what about…?” He nodded towards the freaks.
“Trust me,” said Johan. “Run!”
Without waiting for a response, Johan dashed for the exit. The moment his boots struck the main walkway, he threw a look over his shoulder.
The man, hunched over the fallen Jacob, glowered at him.
“You,” he said. “The white hair. It’s you.”
The birdman stood.
Jacob cried out, his hands shooting to his stomach again.
The man shot Johan one last venomous glance.
“If you think this is over, you’re more stupid than I thought,” he said. He returned to tending his comrade, who quieted slightly at his touch. “My brother owes this family after his cowardice, and he will repay us with your blood.”
“Don’t… leave me,” the monster said.
“I won’t, Jacob,” said the man. “I won’t.”
33.
Johan recoiled at his first touch of the ladder. The metal felt salty under his skin, saturated by the stench that rose from the pit beneath. He imagined the years the ladder had stood in the stagnant water he saw below, the rust, filth and bacteria had probably crawled up it, rung by rung. His groan echoed in the shaft.
“What’s wrong?” said Simon, halfway through the hatch and leaning in. “Can’t we get up? Please tell me we can get up.”
Johan swallowed. “It’s fine. Watch your grip.”
“You sure this is the right way?”
“It’s the only way,” said Johan. “And it goes straight up. Unless you want to go back to the Vulture and Incredible Hulk?”
“No,” said Simon. “I’ve seen enough.”
Fighting his body’s reaction and regretting the loss of his wipes more than his friends, Johan climbed the first few steps of the ladder. Simon clambered on beneath him.
“This is fucked up,” he said.
“I know,” Johan replied.
“You… you don’t sound too bothered. About… well…”
Grabbing the next rung, something squished in Johan’s palm. He flinched and whipped his hand from the metal, wiping it on the rear of his jeans.
“Sorry, I slipped,” he said, hearing Simon stop. He hurried on, holding the sides of the ladder. “We can’t take the time to linger and mourn. We need to keep on our toes, stay alert. If we’d have put a foot wrong down there, you know what would’ve happened?”
“Yeah,” said Simon. “We’d have been ripped limb from limb.”
They climbed in silence for a few seconds.
“Birds,” said Johan and whistled. The conversation helped to occupy his mind, kept it away from the dirt beneath his fingers and the putrid waters below. “Claws, yeah, can deal with that. Giant mutants? Hell, shoot it. But birds? How could he control the birds?”
“Did he?” asked Simon. He sounded a little out of breath. “They could have just got in.”
“And attack like that? Have you ever seen birds attack someone like that?”
“No,” Simon said quietly. “No, I haven’t. But still, it’s pretty hard to believe.”
“Nothing will surprise me after this. Nothing. But look on the bright side...”
“There’s a bright side?”
Johan almost laughed.
“Yeah. My gun’s still got plenty left inside. The rest of the bullets were in the fucking bag, but just a few should do it, like with that huge fucker. They mentioned one called Max....”
Simon snorted. “Max. I can’t believe these freaks have names. And brothers? Have they been living down here in a big happy family?”
“Until we came along.”
Johan looked up and spotted an open hatch further on.
“We’re nearly out of here. How you holding up?”
“I just want Nat. I know that… that she’s probably dead, but I have this gut feeling…”
“So you think you love her?” Johan asked.
“Think? I know. Would I come down here and go through all this for just anyone? I think you’ve forgotten, Johan.”
“Forgotten what?”
“The old days,” he said. “Those wild times we had in this shit-hole of a city.”
His words startled Johan. “It’s strange hearing you talk like this,” he said and reached out to the side. He had climbed up alongside the hatch. “I thought this girl had changed you.”
He pulled his body across and stood on the edge of the hatch. Darkness cloaked the water pooled at the bottom, but Johan heard it lapping the sides of the shaft.
“She has,” said Simon, ascending to the same height. “She just… I don’t know… focuses me in a whole different way.”
Johan held out a hand. “Come on, you pussy.”
He pulled Simon across and together they stepped through the other side of the hatch.
“She’ll be just like the others, Simon. Just you wait. One day you’ll be begging me to have some fun with her, and I can’t wait for that special moment.”
The room was the largest yet, and for a moment Johan feared they’d stepped into another subterranean chamber. Only the streetlights outside, which twinkled in through the vacant windows and open door, revealed they had indeed reached the surface. A breeze ruffled Johan’s hair, like a hand of ice across his scalp. He shivered but relished the feeling. Somewhere in the rafters of the high ceiling an unseen bird flapped its wings. The sound clamped Johan’s relief away and reminded him the night wasn’t over yet. He gazed up and squinted at the ceiling. Although the flickering light from outside made it possible to see, the upper reaches remained hidden.
There could be hundreds of birds up there, he thought, just waiting for the signal.
“The door,” Simon whispered. He stayed close to Johan and spoke into his ear. “It’s left open. Think it’s some kind of trap?”
Johan shook his head. “I doubt it. How could they know we’d end up here? I say we go and come back with more firepower. We can kill them all with the right equipment.”
He started towards the door.
“Wait,” said Simon and grabbed Johan’s shoulder. “We can’t leave!”
“And why not? Think we should wait and see if they’re
coming after us?” He removed the gun and peered up at the ceiling.
“But Nat… We came all this way for her, and now we’re going to just leave?”
Yeah, we came all this way for here. Can’t he see the bigger picture?
The bird in the shadows again flapped its wings. The sound made the butterflies in Johan’s stomach flutter their wings. He itched to break for the door.
“Five minutes,” he said. “Just in here.” He looked around. “This place is huge. It could go up God knows how many floors. We stay in this room and we split up to get it done quicker. Stay within earshot.” He rubbed his free hand on the back of his jeans. “I’m exhausted, and my head feels fried.”
Simon nodded and, without waiting for further confirmation, walked away to the left.
Johan stopped and listened. Simon had disappeared around the other side of the shaft, which reached up into the darkness like a wide chimney stack. About to call, Johan closed his mouth. If the birds were on guard, a shout might bring them down in a feathered fury. The darkness might be the only thing keeping them at bay.
He headed for a raised platform on the far side of the room. Beyond, a double door stood open like a cave set into the wall.
Johan walked alongside several large wooden boxes and ran a hand along the top of the closest. He instantly regretted it, feeling the layer of dust on top. He wiped his hand on his jeans, wishing for home and a shower.
The boxes reached up to his chest and had been lined up in a perfect row to form a barrier before the platform. Johan reached the end, each step taken carefully to avoid any noise. The thought of the birds above hung in his mind.
He froze.
Something close by had made a noise.
Johan glanced around. Still alone, he took another step.
The noise came again, a very slight smacking sound.
On the tips of his toes, he sneaked around the last of the boxes. Despite his disgust, Johan pressed a hand against its dirty surface. The wood beneath his palm felt perfectly still. He quickly wiped his hand again and continued around.
Movement in the shadows.
The sight nearly made him laugh. He suppressed the urge and smiled with difficulty. He pointed the gun at the closer of the two figures. Oblivious, they squirmed in each other’s embrace, lips pressed tightly together, eyes closed.
Mother's Boys Page 27