by A. R. Wise
He turned her around to look at her back where she had been struck by the ceiling of The Casper when it collapsed down over her. He traced the bruise with his finger as he hissed at the sight.
"I bet this hurts like hell." He rested his hand on her shoulder and tried to turn her around, but she stayed rigidly pointed away from him with her hands under her legs. "Come on, Kimmy. I won't let anyone else hurt you. Can't you see? I'm your friend, sweetie. I don't want anyone to hurt you." He traced his finger down her arm. "Can we be friends?"
Trev didn't see what she was hiding under her leg. He didn't notice that she had stolen his pocketknife when he set it on the edge of the tub as he poured in the water. He didn't notice when she hid it under her bottom when she sat in the tub.
He didn't notice until she turned around and stabbed him in the eye.
CHAPTER FIVE - ASCENSION
"And I thought we were fucked before!" Levon tried to stare out the window of the truck, but the water was darker than night as they sat at the bottom of Hailey Bay.
"This is bad." Clyde pushed himself off the steering wheel and tried to get into a more comfortable position. The vehicle had collided with a rock or a trench at the bottom of the bay and was now tilted at a severe angle with the front sunk into the dirt beneath them. Billy was sitting against the back of Levon's chair as the black man's face was pressed against the windshield.
"Thanks, Captain Obvious," said Levon.
"What're we going to do?" Billy climbed down to sit between Levon and Clyde. "How much air do we have in this thing?"
"I don't know," said Clyde. "It uses a filter to clean outside air before pumping it in, so we're going to suffocate eventually. At least it's sealed up tight enough to keep the water out. We can be thankful for that."
"Thankful?" Levon snickered at the thought. "Thankful that you drove us down to the bottom of the fucking ocean?"
"It's not that deep."
"It's deep enough, man!" Levon strained to look up through the window at his side. "I can't see the surface or nothing."
"We need to get out of here," said Billy.
"Thanks, Stephen Hawking." Levon punched Billy's arm for making such a stupid comment. "I woulda just sat in here and suffocated if you hadn't come up with that astounding deduction."
"No, I mean we need to get out of here now. Those things were chasing us, and they're going to follow us into the water. It won't be long before they're swarming over this truck and we're trapped down here for good."
"Can you drive it back up to the shore?" asked Levon.
"We're almost perpendicular to the bottom." Clyde pointed out the front windshield. "How the fuck am I supposed to drive us anywhere?"
"We couldn't get out even if this thing could drive under water," said Billy. "The banks of this part of the city all go straight down. It was artificially built, and there's no beach around here."
"So we're going to die down here?" Levon tried to look up for any sign of the surface again.
"We'll have to open the doors and try to swim out."
Levon shook his head and then glanced at Billy with a smirk. "Ever since I met you, you've come up with the worst fucking plans."
"Do you have a better one?"
"No. But, for the record, I just want to make sure you know I hate the way your brain works. Being near you is a sure fire way to get yourself into some whacked out, Looney Tunes, bullshit situations."
Billy smiled at Levon and rubbed his hand over his friend's stubbly hair. "You love it."
"No, I fucking don't."
"Are we ready?" asked Clyde.
"No." Billy started to unzip the armored shirt he was wearing. He still had the broken handcuffs on either wrist and it was a chore to pull the tight shirt off around them. "We need to get out of this heavy shit and find our guns. I'll grab the rest of the antibiotic and some syringes. You guys get undressed and get the guns."
"Will the guns work if they get wet?" asked Levon.
"I don't know." Billy started rummaging through the debris that had fallen to the front of the truck. "I'd rather have a wet gun than no gun at all though."
Something thudded against the back of the truck and they all stopped to listen. "What was that?" Levon finally asked just before a second, similar sound reverberated through their submerged tomb.
Billy looked gravely at him. "It's the zombies. They're following us in."
The three of them hurried to disrobe as the thumps became more frequent. Then they were startled as a face smashed against the window to Clyde's left. The zombie's burned and melting face squeaked against the window as he clawed at it. Soon, more and more groping fingers found the windows and other zombies stared in at them.
"We are truly, and completely, fucked beyond belief," said Levon.
Billy looked up at the door at the rear of truck, past the medical equipment that had collapsed against the divider. "Can the back door be opened after we open the front ones?"
"What do you mean?" Clyde was rattled and understandably terrified.
"If we open the front doors and then let the water come in and push us up to the back of the truck, can we open the back door once we get up there?"
"What?" Clyde was struggling to maintain his composure as the situation became overwhelming.
Billy pointed at the rear of the truck and screamed, "Is there a switch to open that door back there or does it have to be opened from the dash?"
"There is. You can open it with that red handle."
They all looked past the clumped, beeping medical equipment at the red handle on the back door. As if to answer them, zombies continued to rain down against the rear door more frequently every second.
Levon sighed as he slipped out of his pants. "I hate this plan."
* * *
"They originally planned to put the name Christian on it," said Richard as Reagan inspected the book about the Georgia Guidestones. "They hoped people would think this was a Christian monument and leave it alone. I told the men building it to call me RC to avoid being identified, and I always signed stuff with those initials, followed by the name Christian. When they built the monument, they wrote the name RC Christian by mistake." He chortled and poured another glass of scotch. "I can't begin to tell you how much trouble I got in for that. People started assuming it was built by a group of people called the Rosicrucians. They're some sort of bizarre sect of Christianity." He shook his head and took a drink as Reagan perused the book. "I nearly got kicked out of the program for that. And trust me, getting kicked out this program doesn't end with you losing your pension."
"What program?" asked Reagan without looking up.
"We'll get to that in a minute. First, I want to talk about this plague we're dealing with."
Reagan pointed at the book with a look of concern that furrowed his brow. "Are these supposed to be like the new Ten Commandments or something?"
"In a way, yes."
The book described how each side of the monument was printed in a different language and Reagan read from the English section. "Number one, maintain humanity under five hundred million in perpetual balance with nature." He looked up at Richard with a glimmer of emerging hatred. "What the fuck is this all about?"
"Hold your horses, Charles. Don't get yourself all worked up."
"What is this about, Dick?" Reagan emphasized his friend's rarely used nickname.
"What if I told you I had a way to end disease?" He hurriedly continued before Reagan could answer. "Not just this plague we're going through, but all disease. Forever. What if I had a way to end it?"
"Did you have something to do with this plague?" Reagan ignored Richard's rhetorical question.
"Answer my question, Charles."
Reagan clenched his fist and shouted, "You answer mine."
"Yes." General Covington acknowledged the awful truth with a sudden outburst as if he'd been waiting his whole life to say it.
Richard's admission left Reagan stunned. The silence that follow
ed could only end in violence.
Reagan stood up fast enough to knock his chair over backward and he threw the book at his old friend before preparing to leap across the table. He would strangle the bastard with his bare hands.
Richard drew a gun and pointed it at Reagan. "I had a feeling you'd react this way."
"Put the gun down and I'll show you exactly how I plan on reacting."
"You always let passion get the best of you, Charles. It's always been your weakness."
Reagan thought about taking a bullet if it meant he could strangle Richard to death. He was fine with dying if he could take the General with him, but he knew the Desert Eagle in Richard's hand was strong enough to keep him from ever reaching the old man's throat.
"You killed my family."
"No, you killed your family," said Richard. "I tried to warn you to get them into the mountains. If you'd listened to me, they'd still be alive."
"Thousands of people died because of you."
Richard shook his head and held the gun with one hand as he used the other to raise his glass. "Not thousands. Before all is said and done, this plague will kill off about six and a half billion people." He sipped his scotch and looked content with the taste.
"I thought I knew you, but I was wrong. You're a monster."
"God damn it, Charles. Stop being so fucking judgmental and give me a second to explain this."
Reagan snarled as he tried to think of a way to kill the General. "There's no explaining this one, Richard. There's no way you could convince me that what you've done is okay."
"All I ask is that you give me a chance to try." He pointed the gun at the chair that Reagan had overturned. "Pick that up and sit down for ten minutes. Give me a chance to explain and then, if you still think I'm the bad guy, I'll let you leave a free man."
"I don't want an explanation. I just want to kill you."
"Jesus Christ, Charles, you're like a brother to me. That's why you're here. That's why I'm telling you this, because I need you to understand."
"Well, I don't."
"You will. Give me a chance to explain and you'll see that I'm not the bad guy you think I am. If I do my job here, the two of us will go spend the rest of our lives fishing off Lake Forsythe like we always planned."
"Why do you care what I think? If you're so fucking certain of yourself, what does it matter if I agree with you?"
"You're the good guy, Charles. You always have been. No matter what we went through, I always knew you were the one fighting on the right side of things." He set his tumbler down and took a deep breath as he kept the gun pointed at his best friend. "After the past couple days, I guess I just need to make sure I'm on the right side of this." He looked into Reagan's hate-filled eyes. "I want to make sure I'm the good guy too."
* * *
"You little bitch!" Trev crashed against the sink and then fell to his knees as he wrapped his hands around the hilt of his pocketknife. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you."
Kim dashed out of the tub and slipped on the tile floor. Trev grasped blindly at her, but she was too slick for him to get a grip and the little girl managed to crawl away as she screamed out for help. Her shrill cry could be heard throughout the house as she scrambled to reach the door.
"I'll tear your fucking head off."
The bathroom connected to an empty bedroom with wood floors and Kim tried again to stand but was pulled to her knees by Trev as he clawed at her heels. She cried out and kicked at him, but he was determined to pay her back for what she'd done. He ignored the knife in his eye and grabbed onto her leg with both hands.
Kim reeled her other leg back and kicked at the hilt of the small knife. She caught the side of it as her heel smashed into his nose. Blood gushed out over her leg as he released her and leapt back in agony. He screamed and contorted as he held the knife steady. Then he dared to pull it free.
His eyeball came out as he jerked the blade from his head. The knife slipped out of the tissue, and his eye dangled on his cheek, attached by a thin strand of white flesh.
The door to the room swung open as a large man in an unbuttoned police uniform rushed in. He looked down at Kim and then up at Trev. "What the fuck happened?"
"He was going to hurt me."
"She stabbed me in the eye!"
"He was going to hurt me. Please help!" Kim was dripping wet and nude as she ran to the stranger and wrapped her arms around his leg.
"Fucking hell," said the husky man as he watched Trev try to put his eye back in his head.
Someone else came in behind the large Mexican. It was an emaciated man with tattoos covering the majority of his skin. He was shirtless and had several tattoos on his chest that Kim recognized as hateful. She'd seen them in shows that her father liked to watch on the History Channel.
"Holy shit!" The tattooed man staggered back when he saw Trev's face. "What happened?"
"This little girl stabbed him in the eye." The big guy set his hand on Kim's head.
"Why?"
"She's fucking crazy!" Trev fell to his knees and clasped his hands over his eye as blood gushed out between his fingers. "She's a fucking psycho."
"What were you doing to her?" asked the big guy.
"Are you a fucking pedophile?" The tattooed man asked in disgust.
"She's crazy." Trev wavered back and forth just before he lost consciousness. He tilted forward and then collapsed like a tree and hit the floor with a splashing thud in his own blood.
Kim looked up at the two strangers. "He was going to hurt me, so I hurt him first."
The big guy stared down at her and didn't know what to say. He was shocked, and he glanced between her and Trev's body over and over.
"You think he's dead?" asked the tattooed man.
Kim answered before the big guy could. "I hope so."
* * *
"On the count of three." Billy ignored the sound of more zombies falling onto the back of the truck above them. "One."
"Wait," said Clyde as the creatures piled up outside the window. He was standing in the rear of the truck, his feet resting on the divider, with Levon across from him. The plan was for Billy to hit the switch and then climb up so they could help him into the rear. "Are we sure about this?"
"Yes," said Billy with steadfast determination. "Two."
"Oh fuck me." Levon made the sign of the cross with his pistol.
"Three."
Billy flipped the two switches on the center dash that controlled the doors. The entire truck groaned in response and for a moment, he wasn't sure the doors would open at all. Then, with a hiss of the hydraulic pumps, all hell broke loose.
Water didn't just seep in, it gushed with furious power as if a fire hose had snuck in through the door. The zombies that crowded the side of the vehicle were pulled in as well, but the intensity of the water's flow wouldn't wait for the space to be wide enough to bring their whole bodies in. Instead, pieces of flesh were stripped away from the creatures and slapped against Billy along with the water.
Hands, fingers, teeth, eyes, and all manner of other morbid material flooded the truck as quickly as the water. Billy gagged as a strip of flesh slapped against his face and stuck there until he peeled it away.
"I hate this fucking plan, Billy." Levon tried to point his gun out the door as it opened, but everything happened too quickly for him to do anything but try to pull Billy up.
The flow of water swiftly filled the front of the truck and it seemed as if Billy's plan would work. He was carried up into the back of the truck as the water rushed in, but then the flow calmed as suddenly as it had started. Once the water level had exceeded the side of the door, they were left sitting in an air bubble that comprised the entire back end.
"Oh fuck." Billy realized his mistake and was suddenly aware that they had just replaced the temporary security of sitting in a protected tomb to a watery grave that would quickly fill with zombies.
"Oh fuck is right," said Levon. They stood on the divider, several feet
from the lever that could open the back door.
Zombies started to crawl into the front end of the truck and their groping hands reached up through the morass of shorn flesh and body parts that swam under them.
"Clyde, get on my shoulders," said Billy. "I'll hoist you up and you can open the back door."
"It won't work." Clyde kicked at the hands that reached up through the water at them.
"What do you mean it won't work?"
"There's too much pressure on the back door. It opens outward. You'll never be able to get it open now."
Billy stared at him incredulously. "Before you said that we could!"
"Yeah, if the whole truck filled with water then you probably could, but not now. There's no way we'll be able to get it open now."
"That's just fucking great," said Levon. "Billy, I take back every nice thing I've ever said about you, man. You're a huge piece of shit and I'll never forgive you for sinking me into the bottom of the Goddamn bay. This is not how I wanted to go out." He fired a shot into the water at a zombie's face that had dared to peak over the surface. The echo of the shot hurt their ears and Billy staggered back from the shock of the sound. He hit the side of the truck and the entire vehicle shuddered.
"Whoa!" Levon steadied himself. "Be careful, man."
A flash of blue light ignited below them as the water destroyed one the electrical systems in the dash of the truck. The lights on the medical equipment around them started to flicker and then finally went out, leaving them in complete darkness.
"Am I dead now?" asked Levon with a chuckle.
"Did you feel this thing move when I hit the side?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Maybe we can knock it over."
Levon sighed. "Goddamn it."
"It's our only chance."
"If we can knock it over," said Clyde, "then I think I can get the back open after the water rushes in. We're going to have a hell of a trip to the surface though. This won't be easy."
"Hey Clyde," said Levon. "Let me introduce you to Billy. When he's involved, nothing's ever fucking easy."