Anthony Puyo's The Compelled

by Anthony Puyo

  Rose; Violet’s mother, Violet herself, Isabell, Melissa, Ryan, stand with a single flashlight inside the sewer that Doc had mentioned about.

  It’s creepy, and time seems to be standing still as they wait for everyone else. The dark is hollow, the walls are damp, the stink lingers throughout but takes a back seat to the fear of the unknown that also lingers.

  The short glare of the flashlight, only adds to their anxiety. What lurks in the darkness beyond the rays, is a unified thought. The best they can do, is huddle together and wait for their friends.

  Ryan shivers next to his mom. “How long before dad comes back? I’m scared, Mom.”

  She’s worried plenty, but hides it well. “He’ll be here, shortly. Be patient.”

  A rat squeaks at them from the ledge of the walk way. It startles the women. Ryan snickers at their reaction.

  What sounds like thunder, is heard beyond the walls. It’s the detonation of the vehicles. The distraction has begun.

  Plans didn’t always pan out, but hope is what the women hinge on. Plan B was not a popular one amongst them. They didn’t want to leave on their own. Melissa was going to wait for her husband as long as she could, even longer than told to. But if it seemed grim, she would have to leave. Ryan had to be protected. It’s what Craig and her agreed upon.

  Chet and Craig peek through the crack of restroom door, next to the elevators. They wait calmly for the ping.

  “Here they come; like a moth to a flame,” says Chet.

  The doors open, and the soldiers spring out, running like a herd of cows as they head for the lobby doors. Following behind, is the Captain.

  “It appears the snake has left its burrow. Come on, let’s get in the elevator while no one’s guarding it,” Chet spouts. The two scamper in.

  Eva peeks her head out the doorway. “They all left. We should leave now.”

  They briskly walk out Rico’s room, staying on high alert. Jason carries his stained machete, and Eva; Rico’s crossbow.

  As they get to the front desk, they see the mess the soldiers left from their partying. They stare towards the monitors. They see the soldiers along with Hawks outside, searching profusely and shooting at who knows what.

  They keep moving, stepping around the desks and the mess. They come into contact with the bloodied body of Blake Edward. It startles Eva. She puts her hands to her mouth. “Those animals.”

  The elevator pings. “Shit! Get ready!” She raises her crossbow.

  Jason holsters his blade and grabs a M-16 from the counter. The doors open. The weapons are pointed with intent to kill.

  The tension quickly fades. The friends lock eyes, and smiles emerge. The four meet up in the middle with embraces.

  Eva, with feelings of elation. “You guys came!”

  Chet chortles. “What did you expect? We weren’t going to leave town without you.”

  “Town. What do you mean? Are we leaving?”

  “You bet,” Chet gleefully replies.

  “Thank god. I don’t want to be here another minute.”

  Craig breaks up the party. “Okay guys, we’re going to have to finish the reunion later. We need every second.”

  With agreed nods, they hurry into the elevator.

  Going down, Chet turns to Jason. “Glad to have you back.” Jason gives a slight grin. Chet goes on. “Where’s Rico? We didn’t see him leave with the others.”

  Like a child trying to hide his guilt, Jason shrugs.

  Chet’s face winces, he doesn’t understand, but wants to. “Wha—”

  Eva sees the discomfort in Jason, she puts her hand on Chet’s chest with a message filled stare. “He’s not coming.”

  Chet eyebrows raise for a second—he catches the drift. His lips tighten to frown. “I’m sure it’s for the best.”

  They take the elevator down to the basement. Chet peeks out. The guard is still asleep on the floor. Earlier, he was so drunk, he didn’t wake, even when he was being tied.

  The group runs past him with Jason accidentally stepping on his dangling fingers.

  The soldier eyes slit with a slight roll. “Huh,” he murmurs, as he slowly wakes. He couldn’t move his hands or feet. It freaks him out, thus waking him further. Seeing the back of the assailants running away from him, he yells. “Hey! Where are you going? Come back here!” The escapees don’t stop. “Shit,” the soldier grumbles, “Captain’s going to kill me.” He struggles, hoping to get loose. Fat chance with his hands roped behind his back and his feet roped as well. “Dammit. Help!” he shouts to the top of his lungs.

  Hawks and the others are near the elevators. When they didn’t find anyone outside, Robert came to the conclusion they had been rused. Still, someone murdered some of his men, including Gary; his top Sergeant, and he wasn’t about to let that go unresolved.

  Robert rants angrily towards his men. “When we find who’s responsible for this, they’re going to pay.” It is then, they hear the yell of his soldier coming from staircase. He shushes the bickering soldiers. “Come on!” They run towards the stairs. “You hear that? The basement!”

  Getting there, they see the downed man. “What happened?” Robert demands.

  “They tied me and ran off, sir.”

  “Who?”

  “It looked like the troublemakers, sir.”

  “Damn! Where did they go?”

  He pointed with his head down the hall. “Down that way.”

  “Go on, all of you. They’re trying to escape. Chase after them.” The Captain grabs his radio, “Canetti, Tillman, we have some deserters in the yard—Take all of them down, the kid too.”

  Static is heard on the radio. “We’re on it, Captain.”

  The frustrated Captain rotates to head back. The soldier who’s tied up asks, “What about me, sir?”

  Hawks beams him over with shame. “Sleep it off.” He then heads for the elevator. The soldier dare not reply, instead he lies his head back in defeat.

  “I should’ve made their graves long ago.” Robert mentions in regret to himself.

  If they manage to escape, they will have done what no one else has: pulling a fast one over the head of the Captain; the clever Robert Hawks. But will they get away with it? Hawks isn’t about to give up.

  Outplayed by a bunch of misfit civilians, he scoffs in thought. How shameful that would be. It can’t happen. It won’t happen!

  The angry man gets to elevator, pushing the button for it to come down. “Fuck!” he yells in frustration. The anger still erupting in his mind. He pounds the wall, peering down in disgust. The ping sound of the elevator, relieves his intellect for a blissful few seconds. The metal contraption starts to open.

  Hawks gazes up, ready to storm in. Oh my God . . .

  He can’t believe it! His eyes widen. “You!” He blurts. Caught off guard, he panics. He reaches for his gun tucked in his pant belt. The anxiety causes him to fumble.

  It’s too late.

  There is no evading this one. “Son-of-a-bitch.” His mouth gapes, no more words flow out, and he stops reaching.

  A loud, tight punch of the air.

  Death comes in the form of a single bullet from a nine-millimeter Beretta. It strikes the Captain right between the eyes; they roll back. The man, who some saw as invincible, is going out of commission.

  Hawks’ body convulses while on its feet, fighting to the very end. But it is no use. His time has arrived. Out dueled twice in one evening—a new first—and last. The vile man stiffens—then falls—long and hard like a cut down sequoia.

  The elevator’s doors begin to close, resembling a theater curtain at the end of a Broadway show. And to the man inside; it is just that. Staff Sergeant Blake Edward: beaten and bloodied, sitting over his own streak of blood that he made when he dragged himself in there, smiles lightly one last time before exhaustedly dropping his hand, that holds the gun, into his lap. He closes his eyes one last time. A job well done, soldier— is his only, and final thought.

  30

  Th
e Great Escape

  They run as fast as they can. No fear of the gunshots sounding off behind them. It has been a long treacherous journey, and being shot as they are about to escape, would be received as the next best option. As anything is better than going back to that hell of a building. They are going to find their peace—even if it means dying for it.

  It’s a tense and nervous moment. The women waiting in the sewer, could hear the gunshots followed by stomping feet outside. All that really meant, is people are out there. It could be anyone. The women point the flashlight and their nervous eyes towards the manhole cover, waiting to see if it would open, and by whom.

  Suddenly—movement. It lifts. The women and Ryan inhale in unison. The muffled voices on top can’t be identified.

  Please be you, Melissa thinks, not knowing who is moving the cover. Seconds later, they see the wincing face of Eva. Melissa, excited, moves the light to the side so they can come down.

  “Thank God,” Melissa exudes.

  “Hurry!” Craig’s voice is heard yelling outside the manhole.

  Jason shoots the M-16 outside before making his way down. Everyone hears the oncoming commotion and begins running. They follow Melissa who holds the light. Terror stricken, they run in a line with no clue to where they’re going in the damp, murky catacombs of the sewer. More than once, a few of them stumble over cracks, assorted trash and junk that litter the walkway.

  Chet, who’s the last one, glimpses back every now and then. In the distance he sees the rays of dancing flashlights coming. The chase is far from over. They have to keep their lead or risk death.

  Their breaths get harder and their stamina is depleting. Two city blocks will do that to a person, especially those who don’t run often. The soldiers on the other hand, always ate good, had good training, and were physically fit. They’re up to the challenge, and they know, even though they don’t see their prey at the moment, it won’t be long before their superior health will allow them to catch up.

  Melissa, still in front, is practically dragging Ryan who’s starting to stumble more often. “Come on, baby, just a little more.”

  Ryan falls to his knees. “I can’t, Mom. I’m tired.”

  An out of breath Violet, says the same. It causes the whole group to stop.

  “What are y’all doing? We got to keep on,” Chet pleads.

  The group peers down behind them. They can see the rays shinning closer.

  Craig goes up to Ryan and Melissa. “Hand him over, I’ll take him from here. Chet, grab Violet. Eva, Jason, watch our backs.”

  They jog a little further, but they are not moving fast enough.

  Craig stops another sixty-feet down. “We can’t out run them, and we don’t have much ammo to fight.”

  Chet replies, “Then let’s go up. We have no choice.”

  “Over here, there’s a manhole over here.” Melissa says, pointing her light at one about fifteen feet away.

  “Move quickly, they’ll be here soon.” Craig exudes.

  They run the extra feet to the manhole. Isabell is the first one up, her strength is just enough to dislodge it. The group moves swiftly. Some of them slip on the dewy steps of the ladder.

  Jason is the last one, waiting for Eva to make her way up. He begins to contemplate his actions as the lights of the soldiers bounce closer. The sounds of their steps, for the first time, can be heard. He may have no choice but to shoot. His face tightens at the thought. If this happens, he may not make it out.

  Jason points his rifle at the oncoming lights of the soldiers. He glances to see if Eva’s almost up—she is. To buy time, he shoots at the lights. A wounded cry is heard.

  I got one.

  Shots are fired back, hitting the ground and walls near Jason. He ducks towards the ladder. Eva shouts for him to hurry. He does. He makes his way up the manhole getting out and not a second to too soon. The yells of the soldiers were right on top of him.

  Upon getting out, Chet and Craig put the cover on quickly. Craig orders Jason to stand on it.

  Chet, like the others, is gasping. “They can’t get out if we put something on it.”

  Craig happens to see a crashed motor bike. Him and Chet stand it up and roll it over the manhole cover. The relief is felt throughout the group. They’re one step closer to realizing their dream.

  Knowing they must forge ahead, the smiles don’t last long. Gazing around at their surroundings, they come to the conclusion: being out in the open, in the twilight of dawn, is not ideal.

  The neighborhood they rest in, is eerily quiet. And the feeling of danger, looms heavily. And so it comes.

  The ground rumbles. Voices are heard. Staring down the street, no one says a word. They all recognize the sound. Turning the corner of a cross street, is the army’s tank. A couple of soldiers ride on top.

  Eva yells. “This way. Hurry!”

  Again they run, this time into a boutique’s alley across from the houses. Chet carries Violet, Craig holds Ryan. The kids are big, heavy, but the men push ahead. They have to escape together.

  The light armored tank, gains on the group, traveling thirty-five miles an hour on the straight away road. The gunner on top, shoots automatic rounds that unearth the road, tearing through fences and parked cars, just missing the group as they cut the corner into another alley.

  Jason and Eva help boost Melissa, Isabell, and Rose up over the cement wall at the end of it. They shout towards them to hurry up, gazing back and forth down the thin crevice. The others are too far behind; Craig and Chet are at a sluggish pace with the kids in hand.

  Craig makes the mistake of glancing back. The front of the tank appears. It’s ready to turn in and gain on them. Craig trips on a pothole, sending himself and Ryan to the pavement. Chet behind them, halts to help. The tank successfully gets into the alley.

  “We ain’t going to make it!” Chet hollers. Thinking quickly, he put Violet down and pulls his pistol. “Come on!”

  Eva and Jason have no choice; they have to scale the wall. Jason boosts Eva over, but struggles himself. As he gets half over, the women shout words of encouragement.

  “Hurry!” “You can do it!” “Almost there!”

  Jason’s face is red as a chili pepper, getting one leg over.

  The blast thunders. The tank round whistles up the alley. Jason falls over the wall, rolling to the side. A split second later, the wall violently comes down, crumbling to pieces.

  The tank gains ground. Chet shoots the lock off and busts down the back door of a building.

  The tank comes to a screeching halt, letting out two of its riders before zooming after the others.

  Chet, Craig, and the kids move fast. They break out the front door of a bar. When they peer down the street, they can see the others at that end of it. They’re near a jam packed gas station. They waive to the group to keep going towards the other side, into a hotel.

  A loud tumultuous holler is heard coming from the other direction.

  Craig and Chet swivel quickly. An infected blazes towards them. Just then, bullets zip from the bar the guys came out of.

  They flinch, but not fast enough. Chet takes a graze across his back. He shouts in pain, falling to his rear. Craig trips over a corpse, and the kids; scared, huddle together behind a junked car.

  The two soldiers storm out the place, one ready to kill. Like a quarterback being blindsided, he gets tackled by the infected. The weapon knocks out of his hand from the impact. While they struggle, the other soldier points his rifle at Chet. He never gets a chance. Chet fires into the man’s gut. It was his last round.

  The guys emerge, only to see their friends struggling to get into the hotel building down the street. The tank comes forth, getting stuck behind the barricade of vehicles at the gas station, but that doesn’t hinder its turret gun or tank cannon. The huge bullets shred the front of the structure. Sparing nothing. The palm trees split, the grass chunks out, the windows break, and the walls chip deeply, showing its frame in some spots.

&n
bsp; Jason takes advantage of a reload by unlocking the door. The women scream, crawling over the sharp broken glass, but they make it in with Jason.

  “It’s going to fire its cannon!” Craig yells. The sight is devastating to watch.

  The destruction causes the men not to pay attention to infected who finished off the soldier. He grapples down Chet from behind. The kids shriek by Craig. Craig glares back to his partner. He’s on the ground in fight. Craig freezes. He glimpses back at the tank. It’s reading to destroy. He has to make a choice—speedily. He pulls his 357 out. The tank spins its cannon; aiming at the hotel. This could only mean certain death for his friends—and his wife.

  Craig aims his gun. With only two bullets, he has to nail it. He doesn’t let the growling from the infected behind him, distract his ambition. He stays steady, blocking out the noise, peering with one eye through the sight at the end of the muzzle. The tank put its gun into place. In less than a second, it will be over.

  Craig fires.

  The bullet nestles into the fuel tank of a blue sedan. It’s all by chance that it has gas. It explodes, generating the other cars and ultimately the gas station itself to do the same. The tank lifts off the ground with flames flaring out in every direction. Like a furnace, it roasted everything in it. The mammoth firestorm engulfs the whole area near the fuel station, causing a chain reaction of detonations that sends debris every which way. It is captivating to the eye.

  Craig quickly turns to Chet who got the upper hand on the infected. Craig helps by kicking it in its face. Chet grabs a nearby shard of glass, and punctures the neck of it.

  Tired, Chet gathers his wind on the road. “Good shot.”

  Craig reaches out his hand. “We better go. That explosion is going to cause one hell of a stir up.”

  “You said it.”

  They meet up with the rest of the group, venturing to the back of the hotel.

  “We need to get out of here.” Chet barks.

  Craig replies. “Let’s get some wheels then.”

  “We’ll make our way out towards the nearest residential. Check every car, maybe we get lucky find one with keys,” Eva lets out.