The Exterminators Trilogy: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Box Set

by Mark Gillespie

  “How we doing kid?” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You sure about that?”

  There was a long pause.

  “Rachel?”

  “Did you have to shoot Mary Jane?” she said.

  Cody eased off the gas pedal.

  “Yeah I did,” he said. “I had to shoot her. Look I’m sorry you had to see all that bad stuff Rachel. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

  “It wasn’t easy for you either. Was it?”

  “No,” Cody said. “It wasn’t. But it was self-defense. It was them or us.”

  “Is there any blood in the car?” Rachel asked.

  Cody looked to his right. There were a few dark stains visible on the black vinyl passenger seat – not as much leftovers as he’d expected to see. Most of the blood had stuck to Mary Jane by the looks of it. Didn’t matter – Cody was past caring anyway. He knew that he’d have to leave the car behind at the airport. Keeping the seats clean was the least of his concerns.

  “Not much,” he said. “Just a little.’

  Rachel leaned forward in the back. “She seemed nice. Didn’t she? Before she took us down that dark road.”

  “She was just pretending to be nice to us,” Cody said. “She did that so we’d trust her and take her where she wanted to go. Where those people were waiting to steal our car and…”

  “And steal me?”

  Cody tugged at his sweat-soaked shirt.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Guess we learned a valuable lesson today, huh? Even if people seem nice assume they’re not. Don’t trust strangers. They might not have the Fever but they’re still desperate in other ways.”

  Rachel put a hand on his shoulder. It was an unusually adult-like, reassuring gesture that surprised Cody.

  “What about Nick?” she said.

  “What?” he said. “What about Nick?”

  “Can we trust him?”

  Cody smiled.

  “We can trust Nick,” he said. “Nick Norton and I go way back. I’d trust him with my life – with your life. We met at the auditions for The Forever Boys in the eighties and hit it off right away. I saw Nick at a lot of auditions back in those days. We became friends, good friends. I trust him. Don’t worry about Nick.”

  “He’s a pilot now?”

  “Yeah,” Cody said. “Acting wasn’t for Nick Norton, not long term. He left Hollywood when he was still a teenager and took to the skies. He became a pilot. Air force at first, then he got married – several times I might add – and eventually went into commercial flights. Only Nick Norton would have come up with a plan that involved stealing a commercial plane, filling it up with friends and family and taking a chance up there in the black sky. He’s a hell of a pilot too. If anyone can find something out there, it’s Nick.”

  Rachel took her hand off Cody’s shoulder and sat back in her seat. There was a sharp clicking noise as she buckled up again.

  Cody switched on the radio. Part of him was still chasing after another snippet of that lost music. Rory Gallagher, where are you? Anything was better than endless reports and commentary on the Black Storm.

  After a brief search, a man’s voice fought its way through the static.

  …and I’ll tell you another thing. Strange things have been happening everywhere – it’s not just suicides and mass murders and crashing cars and falling planes we’ve got to worry about. It’s all gone to hell, even in the already strange realm of the Internet and social media. People think I’m crazy but listen to this. What would you say if I told you that dead people were setting up Facebook accounts? This was when it all kicked off back in the early days. When nobody knew much about the Black Storm. What do you think about that? Don’t believe me? Well listen to this – about five months back I logged onto Facebook and saw a friend request waiting from my dad. My dad’s been dead for ten years. Ten years! Well I didn’t know what to think. I accepted of course. Right after I did that he sent me a private message. ‘My dear boy, You’re so lonely, aren’t you? I know you keep a gun in your drawer. I can’t come to you but you can come to me. Save yourself. Your mom and I will be there to greet you.’

  Well I’ll tell you this folks – to anyone who’s listening out there. I’ve never been so scared in all…

  Cody switched the radio off.

  “Shit,” he said under his breath. That was it – no more radio. He’d said it many times before and he always came back. Not this time. These people – whoever they were – weren’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. The world and everything in it was screwed.

  He heard Rachel shifting in the back seat.

  “The Black Widow did it,” she said.

  “What’s that honey?” he asked, forcing a smile in the rearview mirror.

  “The Black Widow pretended to be that man’s dad on Facebook. Didn’t he?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess so.”

  “How come nobody knows what she is?” Rachel said. “Or what the Black Storm is?”

  “We’ve talked about this Rachel,” Cody said. “Many times. Nobody knows for sure. The Black Widow came out of the Black Storm, like all the other things – the rain, the winds, the Fever, you know? All of it – we call it the Black Storm. You know that already.”

  “Yeah but what is it?”

  Great. All the easy questions.

  “Some people think the Black Storm is a part of nature,” Cody said. “They believe that nature has turned against us as a species. We’ve overpopulated the planet and so Mother Nature is cleaning house. Like a mass extinction event.”

  “Yeah but what do you think?” Rachel said.

  “Nature can be cruel,” Cody said. “But if Mother Nature wanted to, she could wipe us out with floods, earthquakes, whatever she wanted. But not this – this feels like something else. This doesn’t feel natural to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It feels like something infiltrated nature as we know it,” Cody said. “Something from the outside.”

  “What does infiltrated mean?”

  “It just means something got inside nature.”

  Rachel paused. “Something bad?”

  “I guess.”

  “Like what though?”

  “That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question kid,” he said. “The greatest minds on the planet have been trying to figure that one out since this mess started months ago. And you’re asking me? Hey, you keep thinking it over honey and if you find out the answer you’ll be the next President of the United States. I guarantee it.”

  Cody dabbed at the fine layer of sweat gathering on his neck. It was muggy inside the car and he pulled at his shirt again – it felt like he’d smothered himself in glue before getting dressed. He thought about opening a window but he didn’t – not with all the smoke drifting out of the city.

  He heard Rachel sitting forward again. When she spoke this time, he felt her warm breath on the back of his neck.

  “Mary Jane’s eyes were still open,” she said. “After you shot her.”

  “I know,” Cody said. “But she was dead.”

  “Were Mom’s eyes open?”

  Cody hesitated. “I don’t remember.”

  A pause.

  “You think Eddie Faldo’s eyes are open? Right now?”

  Cody’s foot leapt off the accelerator and he brought the car down to a steady speed.

  “Eddie Faldo?” he said, looking at her in the mirror.

  “Eddie Faldo’s dead,” Rachel said.

  “Since when?”

  “I heard it on the radio yesterday,” Rachel said. “I was going to tell you when we were talking about him earlier. But then you said you didn’t hate him. Still, maybe you want to know. Somebody in Los Angeles was talking about Hollywood Hills and how all the houses over there were on fire. All the houses – that’s what they said. Somebody’s been going around and starting fires, burning everything to the ground. That’s where he
lives right?”

  “Yeah,” Cody said. “That’s where he lives.”

  Eddie Faldo did indeed live on Hollywood Hills. Cody had seen pictures of his house on the Internet – a lavish three and a half million dollars of Mediterranean themed property, tucked neatly inside the heart of Celebrity La-La Land.

  Damn nice.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s dead Rachel,” Cody said. “It just means the houses are on fire. You never know, people might have gotten out in time. It happens.”

  “But would you be sad if he was dead?” Rachel said. “Seeing as how he won the Oscar and all? He took that away from you, didn’t he? He hurt you. I don’t like it when other people hurt you Dad. It makes me want to hurt them.”

  Cody glanced back at her. Rachel’s facial expression was oddly serene.

  “Eddie didn’t hurt me,” he said. “Look I get it Rachel – you’re curious about death and all that but don’t forget that we’re alive right now. And we’re trying to keep it that way. That’s all that matters. We’ll talk about those things another time.”

  Rachel sat back in her seat with Bootsy resting on her lap. She pulled gently at its tattered ears.

  “Were you and Mom bad people?” she asked.

  Cody bit his lip. It always came back to Rachel’s mom.

  “No,” he said quietly. “We weren’t bad people. We were just lost and because we were hurting, we did stupid things. Like making some really bad movies.”

  He was surprised to hear Rachel giggling in the back seat.

  “Like Attack of the Skeleton People?” she said.

  Cody looked in the mirror and laughed. “Right,” he said. “Exactly like Attack of the Skeleton People. Didn’t like that one huh?”

  “It’s probably the worst film ever made.”

  “Zero percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes,” Cody said. “I don’t know, I’m kinda proud of that. At least I got good money for doing that movie. We wouldn’t be sitting in this 1970 Dodge Challenger right now if it wasn’t for crappy movies like that.”

  “Did Mom make bad movies?”

  Cody had only ever shown Rachel the good ones.

  “One or two,” he said. “Not as much as me though. I’m the undisputed champion in this family when it comes to making crappy movies.”

  Cody winked in the rearview.

  “Hey you wanna know why there was never an Attack of the Skeleton People 2?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  “I made a decision in the hospital,” he said. “Ten years ago. Right after you were born, when you were still in the incubator. Looking at you for the first time, man you were so tiny. I knew I’d never go back to my bad old ways. No

  more drugs, no drinking, and definitely no more crappy movies. I was done with all that. This new life we’d made in Texas – I knew I was going to stick with it. Being a dad, that was my job now. You were our baby.”

  “And Mom?”

  Cody shook his head.

  “She tried kid,” he said. “She really tried. But I guess it was harder for her to let go. And well, it turned out if you look hard enough you can still find drugs in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Were her eyes open?” Rachel said.

  Cody pursed his lips tight together. “Yes.”

  Rachel didn’t ask any more questions after that.

  Cody leaned his head back on the seat. With a sigh, he looked through the windshield towards San Antonio – what was left of it.

  Hard to believe he was taking their baby closer to that.

  Chapter Ten

  There were a lot of people spilling out of San Antonio.

  They were traveling north, seeking refuge in the outer edges of the city and beyond. They came in groups, large and small. Solitary figures were spotted on occasion too. Some hurried up the grassy median strip that separated opposing traffic lanes, looking over their shoulder every few seconds as if they were being chased by something unseen. Others plodded up the highway, their stride slow and labored, as if the bags they carried in their arms or strapped to their backs were weighed down with heavy rocks.

  A few cars drove north alongside them. The drivers in these vehicles ignored the countless pleas of those standing on the roadside, their arms waving frantically as they begged for a ride. The Dodge Challenger was still the only car driving south. Some people on the median strip stuck out their thumb as the Challenger raced by. Cody had a feeling that once they were in the car, these people would try to get him to turn around and take them north, by force if necessary.

  They probably thought he was crazy for driving into the eye of the storm. Maybe he was crazy, but he wasn’t crazy enough to pick up any more hitchhikers.

  “Some of them look so sad,” Rachel said, staring out at the procession of travelers.

  “They are sad,” Cody said. “And tired and frightened. They’ve lost everything.”

  “But we can’t give them a ride, can we?”

  Cody looked in the rearview. He saw a pair of bright headlights in the distance and couldn’t tell what side of the highway they were on. It would have been a relief to see at least one other car traveling in the same direction as they were.

  He shook his head. “No,” he said. “We can’t give anyone else a ride. Look what happened last time, right? We’ve got to be strict about that now. Anyway, these people are all heading in the opposite direction. We’re the only ones going south.”

  “Not the only ones,” Rachel said.

  “What?”

  “There’s a car behind us.” Rachel said, looking through the rear window. “I can see the lights.”

  Cody leaned closer to the side mirror. Sure enough, those high beam headlights he’d seen in the distance were on the same side of the highway after all. The Dodge wasn’t the only crazy car left on the road. It was a miracle.

  The car was little more than fifty meters back and it was catching up with the Challenger at a rapid rate. The headlights were so strong that Cody screwed up his face and recoiled from the mirror.

  “Thanks a lot buddy,” he said, blinking furiously. “Better let them have the passing lane before they blind me.”

  Cody pulled the Dodge into the right hand lane. He eased off the accelerator, slowing down just enough to let the other vehicle pass safely. When it didn’t overtake right away, Cody slowed down to fifty miles-per-hour.

  The other car pulled into the right hand land.

  “What the hell?” Cody said.

  His eyes went back and forth between the side and rearview mirrors. Once again, he winced at the high beam headlights, unable to shake them off his eyes. It was because of the headlights that he couldn’t see anything of the vehicle behind him. He couldn’t tell what make it was or anything like that. All he could see was those damn bright lights.

  “C’mon man,” he said, gripping the steering wheel tight. “I’m giving you the road for God’s sake. You trying to blind me or something?”

  The other car came closer. Still it didn’t overtake the slow-moving Dodge Challenger. After a while, it pulled back into the passing lane. Cody said a silent hallelujah and waited for the car to pass.

  It came back into the slow lane.

  Cody’s face screwed up in confusion. “What the...?”

  The vehicle accelerated until it was right up against the Challenger’s tail. There was only a few inches of space between them now. The headlights dipped to low beam and at last, Cody was able to see what was behind them.

  A red Chevrolet pickup truck.

  Crack. A loud shotgun blast made Cody and Rachel jump in their seats.

  “Rachel get down!” Cody yelled. “Get down. Back into position. Go, go, go!”

  She knew exactly what to do. Before the second shotgun fired, Rachel unbuckled her belt and dove into the space behind the driver’s seat.

  “Dad!” she yelled.

  “Stay down.”

  Cody kept his head low. Every muscle in his body was taut and alert. The bastards! So the re
st of the masks had come to finish what Mary Jane and those other goons couldn’t finish back in Bulverde. Now that the high beams were off, Cody saw some of them standing on the cargo bed at the back, trying to retain their balance while pointing shotguns at the Dodge.

  Crack!

  “Take that you murdering son of a whore!” somebody yelled.

  Cody ducked his head down further. He could barely see the road through the windshield and so he pushed himself up again until his eyes were able to keep track of what was in front of them.

  Crack!

  With as much force as he could muster, he swung the Dodge to the left and then back to the right. Then repeat. He was trying to present his assailants with a moving target in the middle of the highway. To put that lousy shooting of theirs to the ultimate test.

  Another glance in the mirror. The masks weren’t even wearing masks anymore. Cody could see their faces this time around and just like he’d thought, there was nothing unique about any of them – they were just a gang of men, ordinary men, beer-bellied rednecks, ranging in ages from about thirty to fifty years old. He wasn’t sure how many were in the truck, both standing on the cargo bed and sitting inside the cab.

  The refugees walking along the highway screamed at the sound of the first shotgun blast. They fled for their lives. Most ran north in the direction they were traveling. Others however, in a state of fear and confusion, turned around and ran back towards San Antonio.

  Cody slammed his foot on the gas and the Dodge raced down the highway. He opened up a small gap between his car and the pursuing Chevrolet.

  “You okay Rachel?” he said. “Talk to me.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m okay. Is it the mask people again?”

  “Yeah. It’s the mask people.”

  “Why have they come back?” she said.

  Cody was reaching for the pistol that he’d dropped under the driver’s seat. He scooped it up and put it on his lap.

  “Because I killed their friends,” he said. “And now they’re mad at us.”

  The Dodge kept up a steady lead on the pickup. Cody knew he had a chance of outrunning them this time. They weren’t driving down the narrow back roads of Bulverde where taking sharp corners at high speed was a life or death maneuver. The center of the 281 was empty and Cody could keep the pedal pressed down for as long as he wanted, which meant the Dodge would easily outrun the heavier Chevrolet.