Anarchy

by Peter Meredith

  He had cast out the lure with such obvious intentions that Maddy rolled her eyes. “Okay. Why won’t we’ll ever know?”

  He had been vertical far too long, and now he collapsed onto his bed of trash, staring up at the ceiling of the cave. “There was a man named Plinkett.”

  “Was?”

  Perturbed, he waved a hand at her. “You trusted him, and he trusted another. You both screwed up.”

  Her stomach dropped and in a hollow voice, she asked, “How?”

  Closing his eyes, he looked back in time, watching over the Ambassador’s shoulder as he pulled the battery from the satellite phone. “One should never trust a politician or their minions. Magnus wanted you to change our future. He didn’t place his trust in some policeman. You understand what that means, right?”

  Familiar darkness swelled around her. “I know. The missiles are still coming. One of Magnus’ lackeys told us and we told him that Magnus is just going to have to figure it out himself.”

  “That’s the issue. He cannot. At least according to this pretty little thing.” He grinned at the demon. It was a sickening, lecherous grin, one that turned Maddy’s stomach, and yet the blonde either didn’t understand what it wanted or simply didn’t care. Maddy caught a flash of what Five Zero One envisioned and her stomach turned over completely and she had to gag back a surge coming up her throat. He laughed a second later. “Love is love.”

  To get the image out of her head, Maddy steered the conversation back. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t go racing off into the world for Magnus. I’ve made a promise and I’m honor bound to keep it.” She nodded in Victoria’s direction.

  “That’s hardly any sort of objection,” he intoned. “She’s only human.”

  “Either way, I’m bound to her, and only death will stop me from reuniting her and her family.”

  “Is that right?” Five Zero One grinned suddenly and Maddy had another flash of insight, this one more horrific than the last. With a cry, she leapt at the lithe little demon, the pipe raised to strike as hard and fast as she could. Victoria had no idea what was happening, and she leaned back into her captor as Maddy charged, making it all the easier for the demon to snap her neck around with such force that Victoria found herself staring backwards and into the hell of the demon’s black eyes.

  Then her own glazed over as her life slipped away into nothing.

  Chapter 33

  Bryce felt the vibrations in the air as Kathy Pierce turned towards the bathroom door, axe in hand. Small and slim as she was, her steps were loud; the silence behind her was even more so. A half-dozen armed men watched her with mounting tension. Even without enhanced powers, people were more sensitive than they realized. On a level that was impossible to define, they could feel Bryce’s power. As it was unknown to them and greater than they had ever experienced, they misinterpreted it as dangerous.

  Kathy felt it as well, and with each of her cautious steps, her courage was tested. The teenager inside her wanted to hide behind the men; the rapidly maturing young woman knew how that would go: waffling, excuses, indecision until it was practically too late, then a hurried attack, and maybe another infection. They had been down this road before and each time had been the same. A leader was needed.

  For the most part, the men in the building were societally castrated beta males. The majority of them were mere couch ornaments with little ambition beneath their soft facades. The rest were not much more than modern day gigolos, who went from bed to bed without the least worry concerning repercussions. They knew the lies women wanted to hear and they told them convincingly. For them, reality was a fling and responsibility was an anchor they were not going to be weighed down by.

  There were a few sturdy men; however, they were all older, grey and heavy. They knew they were out of shape and likely to be the first killed, and yet it was these men who had come with Kathy—at least as far as the apartment door. Even if they couldn’t understand the power radiating from the bathroom, they could feel it, and it undermined their already shaky determination.

  Kathy walked alone to the door. She paused just on the other side as the tension mounted and the silence drew out. Bryce said nothing and did nothing except listen to the beat of her heart as it thudded, louder and louder. Her breath quivered in and out, and the smell of her fear grew.

  Despite the “mob” that had come for him, Bryce felt at ease. The water was still good and hot, putting him in a contemplative mood. Will she overcome her fear? he wondered. Or will she freeze? Perhaps she’ll convince herself that I’m not even here. He doubted that. She was too steady to lie so blatantly to herself. Closing his eyes, he “saw” the moment in the not-so-distant future when she was finally able to overcome her fear. Her white-knuckled hand gripped the handle of the axe and with a garbled cry she burst into the bathroom and attacked. As she was untrained and relatively small, he would be able to fend her off. It was the others with her that would be his death.

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said, erasing that future and beginning a new one.

  At the sound of his voice, her breath sucked in sharply. Then, slowly, the tendons in her neck creaked as she turned to look back at the others. Her fear spiked then ebbed by degrees and even before she realized it, Bryce knew she had overcome her fear—most of it, at least. She had the ice axe raised when she opened the door.

  The candle on the edge of the tub, now little more than a stub, danced in time with her heavy breathing, which stopped momentarily when she saw him lying there. She blinked, confused. The last time she had seen him, he had been covered in blood and black muck. As well, his rags had been the height of zombie fashion. In short, he had appeared to be the very definition of a monster. Now he was clean and seemed to shine, and where before he slithered up onto the roof, more animal than man, now he filled the tub with his broad muscular form.

  Her green eyes ran up and down him until she realized that he was naked except for a rather small, strategically placed washcloth. She partially averted her eyes and was on the verge of stepping back out of the room when the ice axe dipped and caught the light on its gleaming edge.

  “It’s you,” she stated.

  He let long seconds pass before he answered with a simple, “Yes.” His body was still healing and he needed every second.

  Youth and impatience went hand in hand and not two seconds passed before her brows came down and she said, “Well, get on out of there.”

  “In a moment,” he answered.

  Her green eyes flared in indignant anger; something he found amusing. She acted as though her authority, which was based only on her native intelligence and her greater than average courage, was beyond question. “I don’t know why you seem to think you have the right to order me about,” he said. “You might be able to browbeat the frightened sheep that live here, but I’m not so easily pushed around.”

  “I think you’re wrong, mister. Last time I saw you, you could barely crawl. Being pushed around is all you got.”

  “All you have,” he corrected. She glared even harder, locking eyes with him. Her stare was a mistake. She went from glaring into his vibrant blue eyes to staring into them, unable to look away. Seconds passed, each one precious to Bryce. The hot bath water had already done wonders, but he was far from healed completely and he didn’t know if he could even stand.

  Thirty seconds passed in this way before Mr. Jennings called out from down the hall. “You okay, Kathy?” She was just standing in the doorway, staring at something or, more than likely, someone. Kathy had told them all that there was a zombie in the building, but from what he could hear, it sounded more like there was only one in the making. This was always a bad thing, thankfully the person she was talking to seemed perfectly lucid.

  “Kathy?” he asked again.

  She jerked as if waking from a dream and lurched back from the doorway. The way she acted had him second-guessing himself, making him wonder what sort of hideous monster was in there. Mr. Jennings stumped towards h
er, his bulk filling the narrow corridor. “Look out. I’ll take care of this.” He was dressed for battle, draped in his heaviest coat and wearing tough leather gloves. Wrapped twice around his face and head was a long strip of a sheet—he wasn’t one of those fruity scarf-wearing New Yorkers.

  Since the fight was going to take place in a cramped room, he took a high grip on his bat as he edged by Kathy and peeked into the bathroom. Bryce was not what he expected and just as Kathy had, he found himself staring, at first at the entire scene, and then into Bryce’s eyes.

  Ten seconds passed before Mr. Jennings realized that he couldn’t look away. He wanted to. Staring at a naked man was not his definition of fun. And there were social graces to attend to; a respect for privacy at a minimum had to be considered, and Mr. Jennings was doing all he could to consider and to attend and respect, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away.

  “Wha da fuc?” he said in a dry empty voice.

  Kathy pushed him with such little force that he barely swayed. Her second attempt to break the eye contact was to shake him. Again, she was too small and he was too large. His thick body knocked gently back and forth against the door frame without doing anything at all.

  “Hey!” She smacked him on the side of the face. This finally worked and he cringed from the bathroom.

  “What is it?” another of their group asked.

  Mr. Jennings couldn’t answer at first. Bryce was nothing like he had ever encountered before. “I-I don’t know. It’s a guy, but…I don’t know.” He started to look back at Bryce then quickly thought better of it. Averting his eyes, he purposely aimed them at the toilet as he said to Bryce, “That was some Twilight Zone crazy shit just now. What did you do?”

  “I told your friend here that there are some of us who aren’t the same as we had been. We are not zombies, but we have changed.”

  “Were you bitten?” Suspicion turned Mr. Jennings’ eyes beady.

  Lying had always been something Bryce didn’t care for. Now it felt beneath him, something a human might do. “I’ve been bitten and scratched multiple times, which is proof in itself that I’m immune. One way or the other, you are safe from me.”

  “That’s what they all say,” Mr. Jennings answered with a long put-upon breath. “We’ve had something north of twenty of you guys who got bit and they all say they’re safe as kittens. The only thing that sets you apart is how confident you are. Them others were scared and desperate.” Out of habit, he glanced up at Bryce’s face and this time there wasn’t the same unnatural demand to stare. “They all made trouble, but you, since you’re so confident, I bet you won’t mind leaving the building without any fuss.”

  “Not at all. I just need another hour or two.”

  Kathy, holding a hand over her eyes, pushed closer. “No. It’ll be now. I don’t think we can trust him, Mr. Jennings. He did something to me up on the roof, too. It was too freaky to say anything before. I didn’t want to sound crazy but now you know. It’s not natural.”

  Bryce could only agree. What had happened to him was akin to rape, physically, scientifically, as well as spiritually. It went against everything he had ever stood for. That didn’t mean he needed to take up the cause against himself, however. “As I said before, you are not in any danger from me.” As he said this, he gave them both a little push. It was wholly mental in a way that could only be described as him really wanting them to understand. He wasn’t quite begging, but there was an urgency that he was able to convey.

  The desire pulsed out of him and because there were two of them, it went out like a wave, undulating from him with little control. Out it went and, too late, he realized that he had given too much of a push. The mental wave washed through the walls and then out into the morning light where it gradually lost power the further it went, until it turned into a soft, unrecognizable mental static. Just before that happened, however, it rolled over the Spider Demon as it sat in a jumbled pile of limbs in the depths of a closet in an apartment across the street.

  Right away, Bryce realized his mistake. He had given himself away, and perhaps worse, he had broadcast that he wasn’t the least bit dangerous. “How good are the defenses here?”

  Both Kathy and Mr. Jennings blinked in slow confusion at this sudden switch from helpless good guy to some guy demanding answers. “The defenses?” Kathy asked. “Why? What did you do to us?” She knew he had done something, just not what.

  Bryce dared not use the power of his voice a second time. “You’re right to be worried about zombies turning among you, but I need you to understand the real danger is out there. Somewhere nearby is a demon. It’s an actual monster, one that can control others.”

  “Like you?” Kathy challenged. She didn’t trust him one bit and this change in attitude only made it worse.

  “No, not like…” Bryce stopped as he felt the Spider Demon’s now familiar pulse. It was calling its horde to it. “Shit! Listen to me. Everyone in this building is in great danger. If you have a defensive plan, now is the time to put it into place.”

  “Because of a demon?” Mr. Jennings asked, incredulously. “Okay. Whatever trick you’re playing is done. Now, here’s the deal; I can either bash your head in right in this tub or you can get up and walk outta here. The choice is yours, buddy.”

  Bryce had missed his chance. Like a growing scream in his head, he could sense the dead swarming in towards the building. “They are coming,” he told Kathy. “You don’t have to believe me, but you do have to send someone to the roof. Then you’ll see.”

  “I will do that just as soon as you are safely out of the building. And don’t you dare use any more of your tricks. We have guns.”

  He shook his head at how blatant her lie had been. “So, no guns. Great. Are all the doors barricaded at least?” In answer, she glared and shrugged and nodded reluctantly. “What about bars on the first-floor windows?”

  “We know what we’re doing,” she replied. “Now, get out, or else.” Mr. Jennings raised his bat.

  A sigh escaped Bryce as he tossed aside his washcloth. Kathy’s mouth dropped open and her cheeks took on a pink hue. “I might need a towel and maybe some pants.” He needed much more than that. He desperately needed time. Just sitting in the tub sent a shock of pain up his spine so that he had to grit his teeth to maintain his composure. Mr. Jennings mistook the look for something far more nefarious and raised his infamous bat.

  “I think you’re safe,” Bryce hissed. “Can’t…stand.” He could barely pull himself from the tub and when he did, he could only lay on the cold linoleum panting. In truth, the pain was far from what it had been. Still, it made sense to buy as much time as he could get. He waited until Mr. Jennings, looking like a giant from Bryce’s position on the floor, nudged him with the end of his bat.

  “Could I at least get a towel?” Bryce asked

  The towel was brought, and then when he had dried himself off, a lime-green terrycloth robe with fraying cuffs and a stale smell of old dust was tossed onto him. Bryce struggled into it, faster than he wished. The horde was beginning to swell and now he was caught between buying time to heal and giving the zombies too much time to gather. Soon, every escape route from the building would be blocked.

  And, judging by the team Kathy had assembled to hunt for Bryce, he was certain they would definitely need a way out.

  Once he had pulled the robe over his broad shoulders, he attempted to stand. The pain was sharp and would’ve been debilitating under other circumstances. With no other choice, he bore it, though he stood in a gnarled, twisted fashion, using the walls to hold himself up.

  “You coulda crawled,” Mr. Jennings said. “You still can if it’s easier.”

  And crawl past six men who were too afraid to venture down the hall to take on one partially crippled man? That wasn’t going to happen. “You’re too kind,” Bryce snipped. “But I think we may be running out of time.” Mr. Jennings only shrugged at this.

  The other men, a group who, because of
their new scruffy beards and heavy coats and gloves, looked very much like siblings, stared as he struggled towards the front room. They backed away as he came close, but never once did their gaze pull from him. It was as if he were some new species of primate that had just been discovered; and in a way, he was.

  Beyond them, A-Yeoung was back at her sewing machine and threading as if she were completely alone. She said nothing, though she did hum complacently to herself as she worked.

  In the doorway stood Kathy. “I’ll send one of the men to run up to the roof. You happy?”

  He was not. Things were turning darker by the second. Death was coming, and he hated how helpless he was. The man she chose didn’t make him happy either. Although the others seemed alike to the casual eye, Donny Wood was the smallest, oldest and chubbiest of the lot. He was somewhat winded just standing there.

  When he waddled off, Bryce turned for the hall as fast as he could go. The movement warmed up his muscles which allowed him to increase his speed to a shuffle. It got easier when he came to the staircase, which was old and narrow. He used the railings on either side like crutches and with his arms working more than his legs, he hobbled down until they came to the lobby.

  The room was small and dark, walled on one side by a hundred slot mailboxes. The other wall was tinged yellow from countless cigarettes. Leading out to the stoop was a heavy metal door, one that wasn’t exactly typical to the neighborhood. A series of break-ins years before had led to the placement of the stronger door, as well as the bars on the lower windows.

  Bryce made a noise of disappointment in his throat at seeing the door. There was nothing behind it: no barricades, no guards, no stacks of weapons. That’ll change soon, Bryce thought. He could hear the dead outside in the street; their numbers, only a few hundred right then, were growing quickly as the creatures crept into the light, drawn by the demon’s pulse.