Chronicles of the Damned (Book 1): Lonely Girl

by Jeff Beeman

  Nodding satisfactorily, he adds, “This is a very agreeable deal you have proposed Sergeant Kasprzak. I would be a fool to turn it down. Ricardo, tell some of the men to hook up the gasoline trailer to the medical van.” The rider left without further comment or glares.

  “One last thing, Sergeant Kasprzak, I would like all of your people to come outside to see you off. That way we don’t have to worry about foolish sneak attacks. Four of my men and Ricardo will stay behind long enough to ensure we are not followed. Is this acceptable?”

  “Yes” was her only response to him. Next she began giving out assignments, “Corporal and Isabel, please help Frank and Eric to the front yard. Tom if you will help Dean. Buckie, keep Elijah under control.”

  Before I can really understand or ask a question, Mr. Oliver adds, “Use the leash and body harness so Elijah won’t be bouncing onto people. “

  “Okay” is all I can say before looking for the leash.

  By the time I found it and have B.B. set up, our wounded are going outside and the van towing the trailer is pulling out on to the street.

  “Sergeant, I would be honored if you would ride with me” offered El Jefe with charm and a whole lot of foggy breath.

  “Thank you” replied the Sergeant.

  The sedan pulls over to meet them at the curb. El Jefe motions Ricardo over and speaks quietly to him before gallantly opening the door for the Sergeant. Ricardo whistles and then points at four men to come over to him. The Sergeant looks back at us and for the first time since I have known her, her eyes seem to be at peace.

  In moments, the sedan begins to drive off down Vista Way with the van with trailer behind it and the remaining riders following in a roaring precession. I feel like crying but the voice is screaming in the dark part of my mind so I try to use that to keep from crying. It is yelling, “Several guns going off, loud motorcycles, darkness, large gathering of the living...” My heart stops.

  Ricardo looks over at us and smiles a bloody and evil smile.

  The vehicles continue slowly down the street.

  Without warning, something shatters on the walk way to the house between us and the remaining riders. It looks like a broken glass ball the size of a softball.

  Still the vehicles make their way down the street.

  One of the vehicles that was set up to be a barrier back window unexpectedly explodes. All the adults are looking around as I go over to Officer Salazar trembling so bad, I can almost can’t move.

  All at once, Mr. Nguyen is hit so hard in the chest, I can hear bone break. The blow spins him as he falls while trying to take something out of his jacket pocket. He hits the grounds on top of whatever he had pulled out of his jacket.

  B.B. snarls and I tug on Officer Salazar’s sleeve.

  *****

  Watching her friends slowly fall away as the motorcade travels down the street, Joyce wonders if Crazy Walter’s self-proclaimed skills and ideas will truly work. Without warning, something explodes violently on the sedan’s hood leaving what looks like the remains of glass in the center of a large dent.

  El Jefe zudor begins speaking rapidly in Spanish to the driver and the other man in the front seat. Joyce looks back to see a flash where the gasoline trailer should be. She laughs to herself thinking what the motorcyclist must be thinking by the unexpected hop up of the trailer before she sees how close the others are.

  Her last thoughts are, “Frank, you did it too....

  Chapter Twenty

  Storm of Fire and Hailstones

  Fire seems to slowly flow like a wave through the air right towards us as the heavens open up and let rain down hailstones earthward that erupt in a leisurely manner all around. At the same unhurried pace the house we had been living in decides to lazily fall apart with windows shattering inward and the roof warping and all we can do at the moment is look very confused which maybe is the reason I am maybe remembering things out of order of how they really happened but that is how I recall the events. What really helped start things to go back into order was the moment one of the four riders is cut in half by a flaming piece of either the trailer or from a motorcycle which for some reason made my ears painfully pop, then everything sped up which caused us to all fall backwards like we have been slapped by an invisible wave.

  I come back to the real world thanks to three things. The first is due to a hailstone that hit a rock next to my head, which sends cold ice pieces onto my face. The second is due to B.B. who is dragging me towards the house and the third is the burning sensation on my legs. That last one makes me look to see a burning piece of tire has landed on my makeshift skirt and set it to burning. Never have I removed “clothing” from my body with one hand so fast before. Away from me it had to go! Luckily my pants leg was only smoldering a bit once I get the burning makeshift skirt off.

  So many large hailstones are falling it is deafening. Finally, with B.B.’s help, I am able to get back into the house but not without receiving some bruises and cuts from where the hailstones have hit. The others from both sides also start streaming to the safety still provided by the house. The back of Mr. Kevin’s head is bleeding and occasionally he shakes it as if to get his focus back. Officer Salazar has a bruised knot forming on her right forearm and her shoulder look like it is at an odd angle. Mr. Oliver’s back is beat up from when he checked on Mr. Nguyen, who he discovered was dead. According to Mr. Oliver, a large hailstone had buried itself right between his eyes and he had no pulse. It was hard to tell if Mr. Anderson was hurt by hailstones. Mr. Bates was the luckiest and least lucky of our group. He was blown through the window by the explosion so was missed by the hailstones but the blood trickling from his ears according to Mr. Kevins indicates his eardrums most likely ruptured. Mr. Bates said that his ears hurt and he could hardly hear anything, of course he had a lot of dirty words between the two facts and after.

  For the riders, only Ricardo and one other made it to the house. The third member had caught on fire by some of the flaming debris falling down to the ground. Before he could put it out, he was knocked out by a hailstone and neither of the other two tried to help him. Now he is just a separate burning area away from the sea of fire burning outside.

  “Crazy Walter’s idea worked” stated Mr. Oliver over the pounding sound of hailstones against the house.

  “Si’” simply responds Officer Salazar.

  “I thought his idea of how to rapidly pressurize and oxidize part of the gasoline so it would be weaponized wouldn’t work. That and his plan to make the trailer into a Bouncing Betty…It was all too…crazy” Mr. Oliver just said out loud to no one specifically.

  Snarling out loud something in Spanish, Ricardo draws his pistol but Mr. Kevins is faster on the draw but his aim was off. It is enough to make Ricardo duck right into the left hook delivered by Mr. Anderson’s huge fist, which give the others on our side time to draw their weapons. As all that was happening, the other rider pays no attention to the action as he just stares at the sea of fire which engulfs the remains of his fellow riders and weeps.

  “Put it down or be put down, Ricardo!!” orders Mr. Kevins. Seeing he was out gunned, he tosses his pistol onto a fertilizer bag on the couch. Mr. Bates retrieves it, checks to see if it had bullets and then keeps it for himself.

  Saying far louder than he needs to, “I lost mine when I went flying through the window. His will work!”

  Officer Salazar quickly checks the weeping rider and takes his weapons without resistance. From what I can tell, I think he is singing a song as he cries but with the hailstorm, I’m not sure. Outside is like a bizarre compare and contrast segment from an educational television show. The hail fall is slowing down but there has been enough to make it look like winter has finally arrived but then there is the sea of fire that seems to have gotten larger. The smell of things burning is strong especially with the weakened wind still blowing towards us. This isn’t like a camp fire smell. The smell is an oily sick sort of smell that make my stomach feel sick. I have to walk awa
y from the broken window before I throw up. I make my way over to B.B. to check on him. I can feel a large bump on his head and he doesn’t want me to touch his back but he is willing for me to give his neck a sympathy hug. He acts like he is distracted and having a hard time focusing. I hope the bump on his head hasn’t hurt his brain.

  Officer Salazar and Mr. Kevins make sure Ricardo and the other rider can’t cause any more mischief. Without warning silence falls on us except for a crying baby. Mr. Kevins looks towards the 2nd floor and Mr. Oliver says, “I will take care of these guys, go check on your family”. Mr. Kevins takes a moment to give Mr. Oliver a thankful nod and then bolts upstairs.

  The two riders are moved and forced to sit in front of the fireplace. I can now hear the one rider is signing softly in Spanish. It sounds like a very sweet song and I wish I knew what the words mean. I would ask him but his eyes aren’t focused and he gently rocks himself. I think he is now far away from The Bad, maybe some place when he was a little boy and life was happier and brighter. I wish I could do that.

  Mr. Anderson sits heavily down on the fertilizer bags that cover the couch and makes both the couch and grandfather clock make a crack sound. He is breathing hard and there is the sound like water sort of bubbling. Mr. Oliver quickly goes up stairs for a second, then comes back down with a stethoscope. He tries to listen to Mr. Anderson’s chest but he is brushed away. Mr. Anderson looks grim and shakes his head no. Reluctantly Mr. Oliver goes over to speak quietly to Officer Salazar.

  B.B. lets out a low growl and I no longer think about the singing rider or Mr. Anderson. Mr. Oliver stops talking to Officer Salazar. B.B. lets out another low growl, then gets up and starts walking around in a circle as he seems to be trying to figure out where they are. My mind’s scared voice screams at me again and it feels like cold water has been slapped in my face. Mr. Oliver and Officer Salazar watch B.B. intently, while Mr. Bates goes over to the refrigerator, hops on it and ask between chattering teeth a little too loudly, “What is going on?”

  “Hunting pack” I am barely able to say.

  “B.B. is picking up bosses and associates” Mr. Oliver says softly.

  “What?!”

  “The dog says there are bosses and associates!” Mr. Oliver says louder.

  “Oh (naughty word) then don’t yell and attract them”

  Mr. Oliver gives Mr. Bates the not nice finger in response.

  B.B. is still walking in a circle but now he is alternating between growling and whining.

  “I’ll tell Tom and Amanda” and with that said, Officer Salazar heads up the stairs quickly but quietly.

  “Do you hear anything, Buckie?” softly asked Mr. Oliver.

  “All I can hear is a soft ringing sound.” I whispered back, “but there was a lot of noise and it’s dark”.

  “Yeah, thanks to the explosion, mine is no good either”

  B.B suddenly jerks his head toward the front of the house and trots over there, then takes a stance and loudly growls. Mr. Oliver, Mr. Bates and I head for the window. For a moment the only thing to see is the spreading sea of fire, then I can see a shadow move among the flames, then there are more shadows. The wind also carries their hunting moans.

  “Dear God, they’re walking through the fire!” exclaims Mr. Bates. “Didn’t the big brains say that real winter weather would stop these things?!!”

  “It may be that the heat is helping them, it might take longer than expected for the muscles to freeze, or the researchers were just flat wrong” was the only reply from Mr. Oliver as he watches the figures turn from shadows to walking torches that are now exiting the fire.

  Unlike times before, this hunting pack is not moving together as a group. Instead they are wandering around aimlessly, it seems. Also though we could hear their moans earlier, it seems to be quieting down.

  Still watching them, Mr. Oliver says out loud “Though they can still move, look how disorganized they are acting. The fire has most likely damaged or destroyed their ability to see, hear, or smell us. The fire must have also either dried out their lungs or burned out their vocal cords which means they can’t attract any more once they are in the fire.”

  “So all we have to do is just let them wander around till they burn up?” loudly asked Mr. Bates.

  Before he could answer, one of them suddenly starts running forward at a slight angle to us but it is clear that it’s leg movements are stiffening up. It starts stumbling but doesn’t fall until it crashes into the house next door through a busted window. In moments, smoke starts coming out of the window area. We watch fascinated by what we have seen before it jointly dawns on us that the house next door is on fire.

  “We need to make sure those things don’t do that here!”

  “(Naughty word) straight”

  “Buckie, go tell the others what is going on” requests Mr. Oliver. I head towards the stairs and this time B.B. is so focused on the burning hunting pack, I am able to go up them. The drop down ladder is near the doors at the end of the hallway. Once I come to the ladder leading to the attic I call up and Officer Salazar answers.

  “The hunting pack is on fire which seems to confuse them but one just set the house next door on fire. Mr. Oliver and Bates are going to make sure none get close to us.”

  “Thanks Buckie” responds Mr. Kevins, “We’ll be coming down in a moment”.

  With that said, I go back to relay the message. I find everyone still in roughly the same places.

  B.B. now seems interested in what the flaming figures are doing and is no longer growling. I can see that several have finally fallen down and the few remaining are just about to.

  It feels strange to have a hunting pack so close and not be afraid at all. I feel more like I did when we studied ant colonies in school. Interested but not really involved.

  “You think we should try to put out the fire next door?” tiredly asks Mr. Bates.

  “Yeah, luckily we filled what containers we could with water in case the gang tried to use fire. You should rest though, you’re most likely feverish or at least getting over it.” Replied Mr. Oliver.

  “I only understood half of what you just said!” So Mr. Oliver repeated what he said but louder.

  Looking over the second floor balcony edge, Mr. Kevins inquires “How is it looking?”

  “Good, except for the one who started the fire next door. I was just saying to Tony that we should go and put out the fire.”

  “Good idea but I think we should also start packing up stuff in case we need to leave. It will take some time to find another vehicle that can handle all of the sick, wounded, and items because our last truck won’t meet our needs. Plus, we should bury Frank in the backyard.”

  Coughing a few times with a gurgling sound to it, Mr. Anderson adds as he points a finger at the riders, “We should make them dig the grave!” This was followed with another round of wet sounding coughing.

  “Let’s get everyone that will not be working on something into the room we had Frank in. It at least will get people out of the direct cold” advised Mr. Kevins.

  Before anyone could respond, B.B. quickly trots out of the living room towards the kitchen. Worrying about him, I quickly follow.

  I find him pawing the kitchen’s sliding glass door hard enough to make it wobble. As soon as I start to open the door, he begins using his head to force the door to open faster, then almost knocks the door of its track by using his strength to bull his body out the small door opening. Now I am really getting worried so of course I follow him. He is running the width of the yard, then he stops, rears up on his back legs a couple of times as if he is trying to look over it. Then he runs up to me and whines while using the side of his body to push me away from the fence, before going back to running back and forth. I run to the sliding door that is still open and yell, “We’re in trouble!!”

  Mr. Kevns, Oliver, Bates, Mrs. Kevins-Stahls and Officer Salazar run into the kitchen. Before they say a word, I just point at B.B. who is again next to me whin
ing before going back to run the yard.

  “Has he ever acted this way before?” asked Mr. Kevins with a voice that wavers.

  A very small and scared “No” comes out of my mouth.

  “We need to get what we can packed and get out of here.” States Mr. Kevins.

  “I will get the truck after dumping the bikes” Mr. Oliver advises.

  Mr. Kevins grimly nods yes to Mr. Oliver’s statement. So a plan is quickly put together. Mr. Oliver will go through the “mouse hole” in the garage and Mr. Bates will put back in place the hole’s door. Mr. Kevins and Officer Salazar will begin to collect the most important things, while Mr. Bates and I are to watch out for hunting packs. Mrs. Kevins-Stahls will be in the room Mr. Nguyen had been in, to number one get Baby Michael out of the direct cold, and number two so she can make sure certain items are packed and not missed or forgotten. Mr. Anderson isn’t included in the plan because his injuries require him to rest. Once the truck arrives, we will load up everyone and what we can pack in the time we have. Some will have to ride in the back even though it is below freezing now, until another functioning vehicle can be found. The main goal is to get away from any hunting packs that are headed this way.

  And so it begins, everyone doing their assigned task. It is a good plan even though we had to make it up real fast. Everyone is skilled at their task and very motivated. It is a plan to be proud of. Too bad life doesn’t follow or even respect good plans made by good people.

  It seems like a long and yet not a long time. The items are being piled and prepared for our escape when I hear B.B. start growling then a man yelling a distance away. Mr. Bates doesn’t seem to hear anything but that is why I was with him. I tug on his sleeve which feels damp and I can feel his body heat through it. Tiredly, he looks at me and for a moment he doesn’t seem to really know me. “I hear someone yelling outside!” I made sure to say it loud so he can hear me. He blinks, shakes his head and that seems to help.

  “Where did the yell come from?”