“Open the door,” Mason called, and Cotton jumped.
“Open the door, Cotton. You have to!” Joyce said. “We need more people to help us, and they have guns! They can protect us.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I’m the mayor of this town, and I make the rules. We aren’t opening this for anyone.”
“Is that you, Cotton?” Mason said.
“Shit. You see what you did now?” Cotton said to Joyce, who crossed her arms in displeasure.
* * *
“That sounded like Cotton,” Mason said, turning toward Troy and the others.
“Are you serious? Well, why won’t he let us in?” Troy asked.
“Beats me. Guess he’s scared. Still, we need to get in there and check on them. This is a safe place, and we need to make sure it remains that way. I can’t have anybody turning into one of those things in here.”
“We know Cotton. Can’t we just leave him in there?” Skylar asked.
“No. I have to be sure.” Mason took a deep breath. “Cotton, open the door!” His fist collided with the wood in rapid succession. He heard voices on the other side, but there was no movement on the lock.
“So what’s the plan, Sheriff?” Troy asked.
“Only one I can think of. I’ll give them another warning, and then I’m shooting the handle off.”
Rosella and Barry stepped back at these words. Troy ushered Skylar away from the door, and stood between them and Mason. Mason readied his shotgun and aimed at the door.
“Cotton, if that’s you in there, I’m going to shoot the door down if you don’t open it. I would advise you moving away from it.”
Again, he heard quiet discussion from behind the thick door. The door handle didn’t move. He knew what had to be done.
“I will count to three, and then I’m shooting the handle off and coming in. We’re all heavily armed. Don’t try to stop us from entering.” Mason took another deep breath and began the countdown.
* * *
Cotton moved away from the door. No matter what, they were coming inside, and possibly bringing in the infection as well. Beaux and Mindi huddled together in the corner. Cotton saw the terrified expression on their faces.
“The noise from the shotgun is going to bring more of those things to us,” Joyce said.
“Ha, just go look outside. They are all over the building trying to get in. The entrance from our heroes out there brought the entire town to our doorstep.”
Cotton heard Mason’s voice count the number one. His blood cooled. Mason was going to shoot the door, and Cotton knew it. The sheriff rarely bluffed. What would happen then? Would the hot-blooded lawman come in and shoot them all for defying him? Cotton reconsidered opening the door, but the thought of taking a shotgun blast to the chest didn’t appeal to him. From behind the door, Mason counted off number two.
There was a quiver in Mason’s voice that Cotton detected. It was a tone of begging, pleading for the Mayor just to open up and be civil about it. Cotton didn’t care. He placed his hands on Joyce’s shoulder and moved her away from the door, closer to the wall, and farthest from the large windows that overlooked the town. They would wait.
Mason counted to number three. Cotton covered his ears, waiting for the blast. To his surprise, a high pitch voice rang out instead.
“Wait! Don’t shoot!” Mindi ran forward to the door. Beaux looked surprised at the action of his girlfriend.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cotton asked, but it was too late. Mindi was at the door in seconds.
She reached out a thin arm and turned the handle until the lock unlatched. The door opened just a crack.
* * *
Mason’s finger had started to depress the trigger when the click of the lock unlatching snapped like a firecracker. He wasted no time, and lifted a large boot to the door, kicking it open. The first thing he noticed, as he entered with his gun raised, was the young girl he sent flying across the floor. She had been the unfortunate recipient of the door slamming into her face. He scanned the room. Three people along the wall trembled with their hands in the air. Just as he had thought, one of those people was Cotton.
“Just what the fuck was that about?” Mason said, storming toward the mayor. The point of the shotgun struck Cotton in the chest.
“Mason...calm down, son. There is no need for this.”
“Bullshit. You know what’s going on! My town’s in ruins right now. I had to kill people that just yesterday, I’d sworn to protect. Why?”
“I... I don’t know.”
“You’re lying!” Mason cocked the shotgun and pressed it against Cotton’s head. “Tell me what you know, or I’ll paint the walls red.”
“Mason, calm down.” Troy was at his side. He placed a massive hand on the sheriff’s shoulder. “Lower the gun, man. Let’s talk about this.”
“What’s there to talk about? You know this asshole had a hand in all of this.”
“But we don’t know that, and talking to him like this isn’t going to help. You’re freaking people out.”
Mason turned and saw Skylar, Rosella, and Barry frozen by the door. Rosella looked at him with confusion, and Barry was huddled behind her. The girl he had knocked down sat against a wall. The younger boy was by her side, pressing his shirt to her bleeding nose. Joyce was the only one who appeared unfazed. Mason lowered his gun, and Cotton staggered back.
“Thank you, Troy. Seems like someone will be in line for a promotion when this is all over with.”
“Probably for mayor,” Joyce said. The three men spun around, surprised by her statement.
“What do you mean by that?” Cotton shot, his face turning red with anger.
“Why don’t you share with them what you told me? I know you held back from all the details, but I remember you saying something about the military putting a chemical in the prison water.”
“Oh, shit,” Troy said.
Cotton let out a loud gasp of air in fear.
Mason stood over him. “Tell me what you know!”
“I don’t know anything. Joyce is drunk, or something. She’s making stuff up.”
“Enough of this. Troy, bring him to the window.”
Troy complied, bending over, and picking the Mayor up. He shoved Cotton toward the glass. Mason walked toward the window and unlatched the lock. The window swung open, ushering in the foul smelling air. A chorus of moans from the street filled the room.
“This is how things are going to work. Tell me what you know and you live. Lie to me, and Troy will drop you to the ground. You’ll survive the fall, I have no doubt, but not without a broken leg or two. You’ll wish I’d have shot you when those things begin to rip you apart. Now, talk.”
“I already told you. I don’t know anything.”
Mason nodded, and the large deputy understood. He grabbed the Mayor and leaned him over the window. The Mayor struggled, but he was no match for the powerful deputy. Cotton’s head pointed to the ground as half his body was out the window. Troy’s grip tightened around Cotton’s legs. The cries of the damned rose to fever pitch.
“Jesus, let him go!” Beaux said, jumping to his feet. An icy stare from Mason sent him back to Mindi.
“You’re both fired!” Cotton said. “Relieved of duty!”
“Oh, did you hear that, Troy? We both got fired. Seems we can do what we want now. Maybe we’re wasting our time. Just go ahead and drop him.”
Troy let Cotton’s leg start to slip from his hands. The Mayor let out a high pitched scream. “Jesus! I’ll tell you everything! Don’t drop me! I don’t want to die!”
Mason nodded, and Troy pulled the Mayor back inside. Cotton scuttled like a crab toward the far wall and slammed against it. His face was beet red, and thin trails of tears and snot ran down his chin. Mason and Troy wasted no time descending on him.
“Talk,” Mason said. It was an order.
“It’s a long story.”
“Well, then give us the short version,” Troy added.
<
br /> Cotton took a deep breath. “We were selected by the U.S. Military for one of their programs. Defense against bioweapons, I believe. Colonel Hart, who you know well, Mason, met with me and the other board members of the town. He paid us a large sum of money to use Paradis as his little science experiment. The prisoners would be treated with a chemical that would make them immune to the various bio-agents our enemies use. The chemical was put in Paradis’ water well. I can only guess the town’s water supply was somehow contaminated by it. We were blinded by the money, and to be honest, none of us cared what happened to a bunch of lifers. Well, I got word that something did indeed go wrong. The dead coming back to life wasn’t a problem I’d ever dreamed of. I was told to get my family to a safe place, and I came here. That is all I know.”
“So you sold the town out for some money?” Mason said.
“We all did! I don’t remember you having any problems taking the money I gave you.”
“That was for combat testing, not this. I’d never have been okay with this. Mayor, you don’t have to worry about firing us. After this, I quit.”
“But you’ll still protect us? Right? You have to!”
“I’ll think about it.” Mason walked away. Troy looked down at the Mayor and shook his head in disgust.
Mason walked out of the conference room and down the hall. He needed to get away, to clear his head for a moment. There was a water machine in the hall, and he filled up a paper cup and drank. The cold water was refreshing against his scratchy throat. He drank until he was full. A soft hand on his back startled him. He whipped around, coming eye to eye with Rosella.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand,” Mason said.
“Were you really going to drop him?”
“Probably not. I had a feeling he was going to crack.”
Rosella threw herself into Mason’s arms. He hugged her back as she began to weep softly into his chest. The smell of lavender filled his nose. He filled a cup of water for her, and she drank slowly. After a few minutes had passed, she composed herself.
“So what do we do now?” she asked. “Do we just wait here for help to arrive?”
“Problem is no one knows we’re here. There is no help coming.”
“What about the military? They’re still around. They could help us.”
“After hearing what they’ve done, I don’t think they’ll be in business of helping people.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, they will probably try to cover their mess. Which doesn’t bode well for us.”
Rosella fell silent, the reality of his words sinking in. They all had a death clock winding down. It no longer felt like a matter of ‘if’ death would occur, but ‘when.’
“I’ll think of something. Let’s go back in the conference room and regroup a little bit. We need to stick together if we want to see tomorrow.” He placed an arm around her. The two walked back to the others.
* * *
Tensions had run thick for a while, but as time went by, the group of survivors started to calm from the initial adrenaline rush. Mason shared his story with everyone, as did Rosella and Barry, recounting the diner scene. Cotton sat off to the side, quiet and dejected. Introductions were made, and Mason apologized to Mindi for hitting her with the door. Beaux apologized to Mason for interfering with their interrogation of his dad. Joyce and Skylar were already discussing mani/pedi treatments for when they left this horrid town. Some laughs were mixed in, and an impromptu dinner was held with the contents of the vending machine. They were out of change, so Troy smashed open the machine, with a chair. They could hear the echoes of dead hands slapping the door, but the thick wood held firm.
As the hours crept by, dusk turned to night. The only light came from the various fires spread across town, but those had already started to burn themselves out. Occasionally, the survivors took turns looking out the windows, but no one remained long. The sight was depressing, and in the shadows, they could still see the shambling movements of Botte’s residents.
“I guess we should get some sleep. We can discuss a plan in the morning,” Mason said.
“Thank God we have coffee here,” Skylar said.
“Amen to that,” Joyce replied.
They all picked their spots, selecting whichever corner of the room suited them best. Skylar and Troy, wrapped arm in arm, lay next to Joyce. Cotton slept alone in his own corner. Barry slumbered across from him. Mindi and Beaux settled for the large conference table. Mason and Rosella were next to the door. Within minutes, the sound of heavy breathing and light snoring filled the room, as exhaustion ushered them into sleep. For one sweet moment, they were at peace.
* * *
The transformation was quick, like a lightning strike. The survivors knew Barry was injured, but even he didn’t know the severity or implications of it. In sleep, the virus coursed through his veins and into his heart and brain. His breathing slowed. Unknown to anyone in the room, he was dead within minutes. He twitched lightly as his brain fired back up, switching on only the most primitive, basic part: the urge to feed. Barry stumbled to his feet, and looked around through cloudy, dead eyes. Gone were all aspects that made him human. In their stead, was only a monster.
* * *
“What is it, Barry? I’m trying to sleep,” Cotton said as he was jerked awake. Barry stood over him, not moving.
Barry stepped into the moon light, and Cotton saw the twisted face of a man possessed. He went to scream, but found himself paralyzed with fear. Barry seized the moment, lunging on the Mayor, and grasping his jugular with his teeth. Cotton slapped the tile floor, startling the others awake. Barry had already done his damage, ripping chunks of flesh from the Mayor’s neck. Arterial spray hit the walls and ceilings.
Mason had been so exhausted, he didn’t stir until Mindi screamed. He looked around the dark room and saw Barry on top of the Mayor. He leapt to his feet and ran toward them, knocking Barry off. The zombie hit the wall with a thud. Cotton spasmed on the floor. The room came alive as the other members realized what was happening.
Barry staggered to his feet and pounced on Mason. He used his forearm to push Barry’s snapping mouth away from his face. Thin streams of saliva dripped from Barry’s mouth. Mason tried his best not to get any of it into his mouth. A large boot appeared over Mason’s face as Troy connected with Barry’s head, delivering a sickening kick. Barry spun off his victim. Troy was on the former cook in seconds, a shotgun at the ready.
“Fire!” Troy said, some of the survivors got the message and covered their ears.
An explosion erupted from the shotgun. Barry’s head evaporated into a puddle of bone and pulp. The cook’s body violently convulsed and then lay still. Mason crawled over to Cotton, whose eyes were open, but stared into nothing.
“Dad!” Beaux said, sliding over to his father’s side. Joyce joined him, weeping.
Mason stepped back and let the two share a moment with the deceased Mayor. He looked over at Barry, what was left of him anyway, and noticed something peculiar.
“Troy, throw me a flashlight,” Mason said. A flashlight rolled on the ground toward him in seconds.
Mason shone the light on Barry’s leg, revealing a saturated pants leg. He rolled it up and cringed at what he saw. The bandaged wound on Barry’s calf was soaked with pinkish blood. Calling it blood was a bit of a stretch, as it was more of a congealed ooze that reminded Mason of rhubarb preserves. The wound emitted a foul stench. Mason gagged as the odor attacked him. Green, spider-like veins shot from it like cracks on a windshield. Barry had been bitten, and then turned. There was no mistaking it. Then Mason realized, so had Cotton.
“Everyone get back!” Mason said.
Joyce and Beaux looked up dumbstruck by the sudden order. Both stood their ground.
“I’m not leaving my dad!” Beaux said, tears streamed down his face.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Mason? I think we can have a moment here.” J
oyce glared at him.
“It’s not that. He has been bitten. He’s going to turn into one of those things. We need to get him out of here, now.”
“What are you saying, Mason? He’s dead,” Troy said.
“Look at Barry’s leg. It’s infected with whatever those things are carrying. That chemical Cotton was talking about is bringing the dead back to life. Barry had it. He bit Cotton. Now the Mayor has it, and it’s a matter of time.”
Joyce and Beaux slid away from Cotton’s corpse. Troy looked at Mason, waiting for an order.
“Grab his feet. We’ll drag him into one of the interrogation rooms. There’s a window on the door, so we can watch him and see what happens. Let’s be quick about it.”
Troy and Mason each grabbed a leg and dragged the Mayor out of the room. The other’s made sure to stand clear of the politician’s lifeless body. Troy opened the first door down the hall, and the pair dragged Cotton inside. They closed the door, making sure to lock it from the outside. Cotton was in full display of the window. He remained motionless.
“So how long does it take?” Troy said.
“I have no idea. Let’s go back to the conference room and wait awhile.”
The two returned. Skylar embraced Troy when he returned. Rosella sat to the side, appearing stunned at the events that had just transpired. Mason took a seat next to her.
“We saved one another, back at the diner. It shouldn’t have ended like that.”
“I’m sorry, Rose. I really am.”
“If you don’t mind, I just want to be alone for a little while.” She squeezed his knee, reassuringly.
“Sure,” he said, kissing her lightly on the head as he walked away toward the window.
Mason gazed out over the town. The fires had all died down. The moon was high in the sky, partially hidden by thin clouds. A stream of light caught his attention in the distance, and he nearly slapped himself. It was the large spotlight coming from Paradis. It shone in the sky like a pillar. Had that always been there? He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, was their next move.
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