This was normal when she read; Mona would use a big word or fancy term to describe something, and Tink would agree, pretending to understand.
“Delete the adjectives, and you’ll find the truth. And this writer is trying to fit as many adjectives in as possible.”
“Keep reading, Mona,” he said to her. Mona also had a tendency to get wrapped up in the little things of stories: colors, backgrounds, or any little random add-on from the writer. She thought everything had a meaning, which is why Tink preferred television.
Mona continued on, “Okay, okay, okay. Let’s see, ummm, here, ‘Salt Lake City has been regarded as a beacon of environmental considerations and ingenuity. As the moon rose over the Wasatch Mountains, the largest gas fire in United States History was mere moments away. Raif Albertson, born and raised in nearby Kaysville, was finishing up the last hour of his double shift and was filled with excitement to get home to see his lovely wife, Lina, and dog, Geronimo. He was a family man, having raised three young men whom have graduated college and begun their own respectable careers. Simon, the youngest, was scheduled to start orientation in two weeks with his father’s employer, High Point Oil. The company had taken great care of his dad, and Simon was grateful to follow in his father’s footsteps.
Sadly, this day will never come. Raif never made it home from his shift, and the High Point factory has been unceremoniously deemed ‘Ground Zero’ by experts. Raif, Factory Supervisor of Safety and Emissions, has been shamefully deemed responsible for the events that took place on a once peaceful evening. High Point Oil has done nothing to advocate guilt or innocence on the now deceased, but once longest tenured employee, and their silence speaks volumes to their stance.’”
Mona paraphrased through the political and social impact this would have due to the impending downfall of High Point Oil. Those things weren’t important. Tink zoned out with thoughts of Reba and her crazy back room. He was tired, for sure, but that girl had a hold of him and made him lose all self-control. Tink didn’t lose his control. Not never. But there he was, ready to move to some little poo-dunk cowboy town with a white girl and no common sense. While his little sister waited for him at the gas pump.
Mona read another article about the relief efforts by the National Guard and FEMA while organizations were funding airplanes to fly over and drop giant buckets of water. They set up a quarantine zone because there were poisonous gases from the explosions, and due to strong winds, neighboring cities were evacuated as well. It all sounded believable and real. Sad, yes. Scary, for sure. And absolutely believable.
Tink listened to Mona reading more. This time the article was about some big dog in the Army. “Lieutenant General Conrad Green is lined up as the next presidential candidate due to his herculean impact on the war on terror. One advisor even says he is a ‘sure thing’ because of his relationship with our current Commander in Chief; General Green supports as a key advisor and close friend of President Watt.”
“Wow, Mona,” Tink said, “it sure sounds like the Colonel Sanders is going to be the next president. What a great story…”
Mona smiled at his sarcasm, “You wouldn’t make fun if you knew why I read that story.”
“Okay. So you saying that when we make it through this? He is gonna be president, so what? Do you want me to vote for him? I didn’t vote for the last rich white guy and I ain’t gonna vote for the next one neither. These dudes don’t help me, no matter who they are. You think I care about them? Shoot. Find me a politician who wants to come to South-hell Tower and I’ll be the first in line to vote. Otherwise, they stay in their world and I’ll stay living the real one.” He said and chuckled at the thought of some rich white man coming into the tower, all-star spangle bannered and wetting his pants. Tink was light-skinned and even he sometimes was too white too for the Tower.
Mona sighed and shook her head at him, “You shouldn’t laugh, Lieutenant General Conrad Green is going to drop a bomb on Salt Lake City tomorrow.”
-
Jenna felt sick to her stomach. The night was here, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was going to happen. She laid down in the bed assigned to her and wished her heart would just stop beating. Life would be easier if she was just dead. The circumstances weighed heavy on her: she was still sore from Toppy’s slaps, still afraid from his evil, and now, knowing Robert had burned alive. She wanted to feel guilty about Robert and hate herself for leaving him. It worked. Toppy was karma for her abandoning Robert. If she would have stayed in the room with him, none of this would have happened. She would still be there, and maybe he would still be alive. Instead, the bite on her leg was itchy and she cried into her pillows with an aching jaw. She spent her whole life in self-pity mode, but now she was in self-hate mode. It would be better to be dead.
You deserve it.
Edie was pacing around their room; she assigned herself in 342 with Jenna and started writing a log of the first forty-eight hours. She said, “This is a great way to record everything that has happened. Maybe someone will write a book about us someday.”
Jenna wanted no part in Edie’s project. It sounded horrible. Why would she want to relive the nightmare of the past forty-eight hours? Only one good thing has happened since this nightmare began: the girl from Jenna’s dream. She had not seen her since the dream, but as the hours went on, she could picture her more clearly and began to feel a bond between them. Her name was Mona. She played softball and was brilliant. She was coming to save everyone.
It was just a dream. You’re going to die here. And you want to die here. You deserve only the worst, remember? You deserve to die. You killed your boyfriend. And now your little bite is going to turn you into one of those monsters.
“No, the dream is real.” She said and hugged her pillow, wishing those words were true. Her lips trembled. There was a small part of her hoping Edie would notice and come snuggle her. Anything for a little comfort, anything to get Edie to stop writing. Edie scratched pen to paper ferociously so loud it created an echo in their little room. Lynn and Shelly could probably hear her from their room next door.
Maybe Shelly would be okay with Jenna coming to sleep on their floor. Anything would be better than hearing Edie write her dumb novel which was keeping Jenna awake.
Oh get over yourself. You deserve every bit of torture you’re receiving. Edie is the only hope you have of survival. If she wants to sing at the top of her lungs, she is allowed.
And what about Toppy? Would you rather die in Toppy’s arms? Because if it weren’t for Edie you would be held in his sweaty arms as his ‘bride’.
No. Not that. Toppy more of a monster than the wolves. Jenna needed to sleep, just a little break from being awake. She forced her eyes closed, but her brain wouldn’t shut down. Images of Toppy, Robert, and the wolves all ran through her mind. She thought of the Mexican family who loaded Toppy away. They would have taken her too if they had the chance if it weren’t for the oven. She thought of the oven. Just last night she had slept in a giant oven like Hansel and Gretel expecting one of the monsters to turn on the heat. She would have burned to death. She thought of her bite. The itching wound was pulsing with each heartbeat. She needed to get some antibiotic or something to treat it. It was infected. Then what would happen? She thought of the old man who saved her and Robert. Well, who saved her. Robert was dead now. A pool of black goo. She thought of too much. It was too much.
The sound of the large chair caught Jenna’s attention as Edie slid it across the room to the window. Jenna’s side of the room became Edie’s side of the room too. She must have noticed the change in Jenna’s breathing because she started talking as if they were in the middle of a conversation.
Edie said, “We’re going to log from here, from the window. I will bend a few blinds to see easier. If you’re not going to sleep, you should take the next shift. Shelly offered, but I would rather her stay in bed. She cooked all our food and served everyone drinks and worked so hard to make everyone’s dinner a go
od experience. She deserves sleep, and she needs to keep that old rascal Lynn in their room too. Can’t have the old stinker forgetting which bed is his and trying to curl up with either of us. Unless you want that…do you?”
She didn’t answer. If she closed her eyes for long enough and laid still enough, maybe Edie would just accept her as either sleeping or not motivated to respond. Regardless, she didn’t want to be bothered anymore, and now, Edie was a few feet away bugging her and writing loud.
“Jennnnnnaaaa, do you want old man river to come be big spoon?”
Jenna jerked away when Edie touched her leg through the covers. She wanted to start crying. Maybe Edie would back off if Jenna turned into an emotional mess. It used to work with Robert.
“Jenna Jenna, Bo-Benna, Fee, Fi, Mo Menna. Jennnnaa,” Edie sang in the most obnoxious way possible. Jenna felt her hand on her leg again, this time in a soothing manner. “Sorry girl,” Edie said, “I drank three energy drinks at the dinner table, and now… I feel like it would be better if I sing for the rest of the night.”
Maybe you already died.
“Please shut up. I am tired. Cranky. My foot hurts from walking all day, and I want to puke.” Jenna wanted to mention Robert, but she caught herself before going on. The truth of her boyfriend was like a bomb inside of her, just waiting to explode, but it was going to stay inside and stay quiet. No one needs to know the truth. Everyone already thought she was the weakest link, other than Lynn, and they didn’t need any reason to think any worse of her.
“Okay. Sorry. I’m just super excited. I think this will be a lot of fun. It’s like National Geographic or getting a zoology degree. But I will shut up. I’ll leave you alone, grouchy girl. It sounds like you need a boyfriend. Maybe I should put in a good word for you with…”
“EDIE!” Jenna shouted. The girl didn’t shut up. She didn’t give up. She was the worst person to share a room with. The worst. She made every pain Jenna was dealing with quiet because she was more annoying than any of them. Edie was distracting her from feeling terrible by being obnoxious.
Maybe that’s the point.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. Quit laying there like a Debbie Downer and come watch with me,” Edie said. “Oh, here they come.”
Jenna leaned up and looked out the window.
-
Despite standing in the safe confines of his hotel room, the swell of fear rose inside Harry when he saw the first freak sprinting south. This was Harry’s life story: stuck in a prison while monsters ran rampant. The pain in Harry’s ribs throbbed as another group of freaks came into view. Three fat women, who never ran so far or so fast in their lives, shot down the street like a trio of chubby missiles. Their long strides looked out of place coming from those thick, flabby legs. They looked stupid.
Another group.
And another.
Sprinting freaks flooded the streets, kicking the dust back into the air mixing with the dust that kept snowing down. They ran beside each other with perfect stride and at the same pace. It didn’t matter if it was one of the fat women or an old man, they were side by side running together at one speed, and it was fast.
Were the others in 342 and 344 seeing this? What about those idiots at the pharmacy? If not, they were still hearing it. Each foot landed in harmony and sounded like giant drums beating at a steady pace. Ben was probably soiling his britches watching them. There was no way he could pretend this stampede wasn’t overwhelming, even for a cocky jerk like him. The running freaks made the whole building shake like there was a giant earthquake in downtown Salt Lake City. The people in the other room were probably crying themselves to sleep, hoping the freaks would continue their migration and not make a pit stop at the Grand American. Harry wasn’t afraid, like the others. He was done being afraid because he was too angry to be afraid. If the freaks broke into the Grand American and killed everyone, that would be just fine with Harry. It would be better to die now than before. At least now he could die with the peace of knowing the rest of the world was falling apart too. No longer did he have to pretend to be someone’s friend just to make it through another day. He didn’t have to pretend to care about his group. Or pretend to want to be a leader. Or pretend that their rejection broke his heart. Just like they didn’t have to pretend to like him. Nope, no more pretending.
He was alone. Again. No one even tried to convince him to come into the other room. They didn’t care enough about one of the remaining survivors. If it would have been anyone else, they would have busted down the door already begging him to come back, but not for Harry. Not one of those people appreciated him. Even Greg, whose life he saved more than once, was happy to see Harry upset and even happier to get rid of him. Everyone wanted him alone in here, probably as bait. They could plotting down there, right now, waiting for the chance to hang him out to dry.
Since he got to his room, only one person came to check on him, and that was Ben, the one who didn’t give two cares about anyone’s wellbeing. Especially Harry’s. He had a stupid job to do and only worried about those stupid wolves outside. He wasn’t any different from the rest of them. He would let Harry rot here because he hated him. All of them had turned against him. He couldn’t find a bullet, and they all blamed him. Was it his fault? No. How fair is that? Not at all. Not. At. All.
Now he was alone, ready to die. Maybe he would go out like he originally planned and jump off the roof. It would be better to fall from the Grand American than the stupid Commodore. He might even land on a couple of freaks and break their stupid necks finally getting the chance to kill one before ending his waste of a life.
The freaks weren’t even worried about hunting survivors. They were too busy running down the street like a horde of galloping idiots. Harry looked away from the window and to the door; if he was going to kill himself, he better do it soon. He was man enough to go to the roof before. Now it was time to finish the job.
All of this would be better if he would just get it done. Just go walk up to the roof and kill himself. It would make everyone else happy and relieved to no longer have the stupid burden of the stupid, beer-bellied mechanic with a crappy attitude. No one wants him around, he might as well stop crying like a baby and go up onto the roof.
But he didn’t have it in him. He was too much of a coward. Instead, he laid on the bed and wiped his tears on the soft pillow. It was the most expensive bed he had ever been on. Maybe he would just get some sleep and leave town tomorrow morning. Head north and get away from everyone who didn’t want him.
He pulled out the faded picture from his back pocket. The band of brothers with their guns held high and American pride shining bright. Five men with a story to tell and a bond to never be broken. These were real men. Men who deserved respect and commanded appreciation from anyone that crossed their path. He wished he could go back and try harder to be a soldier. He should have been, no sense in denying it. If he would have tried, they would have let him. He could have been great, but he was too scared. These men in the picture volunteered for their duty. They jumped at the opportunity to serve their country. Now Harry was alive, and they were probably dead.
It was who Harry was, a man miserably stuck surviving when it would be better for him to die.
-
“Where are they going?” Greg asked. Mickey noticed Greg’s habit of asking rhetorical questions. He didn’t really want Mickey to answer, and that was good since Mickey didn’t know. He was too much in shock watching the little CCTV in the far corner of the enclosed pharmacy displaying a stampede of crazy, wolf people. Thankfully, the pharmacy was fortified, and they were able to watch the migration safely, even though the wolves seemed to have no interest in the pharmacy.
“Why don’t you go out and lure one in?” Mickey joked with Asher. For all of his talent and superhuman prowess, even Asher looked concerned by the tidal wave of wolves outside. The pounding of their feet into the ground was loud enough to drown out the generator’s loud humming. Mickey had not seen one in person yet, but ev
en the blurry screen showed their intensity, and insanity. Having Asher around was supposed to be a comfort, but there were way too many of them.
Mickey turned and looked to Greg, “What is happening?”
Greg said, “One of two possibilities. They may be doing a massive sweep to find prey throughout the city. Why waste time sending out small packs when you have an entire populous to examine every dark corner? When there is a missing person, a search team will form a wall while they walk through a field or forest several layers to make sure nothing is missed. It is the only real way to verify there are no longer survivors. However, we’re not exactly well hidden and they do not seem to notice us.”
He continued talking, but walked over to a blank wall and stared. “This leads to possibility of relocation. While I do not understand why or where they would go, maybe they have used up the resources they need and are now moving south to the next city. If this takeover is not already national, then they are apt to spread. I suppose either scenario could be the case, as well as both scenarios, but this does not bode well for our plan. We need at least one body before the sun rises; otherwise, this will be a massive waste of time. Tonight could be our only chance to examine a specimen.”
Edie’s voice came over the walkie talkie, “Doctor, Doctor, give me the news. I’ve got a bad case of over thousands of fat heads running through the streets. Please give good news on your science project. Over.”
Greg’s face lit up when he heard her voice. Even his bruised eyes opened twice as big as normal. The scrawny wise-guy with a broken face and missing backbone sure acted funny anytime he was around Edie. Mickey loved seeing his little buddy have a crush. Hopefully, this meant Jenna would be free on the market, and Edie and Greg would make a fun couple. It might be the end of the world and all, but Mickey liked thinking about stuff like this. It gave him hope. Now that was a funny though: Greg’s face gave Mickey hope.
Dark Genesis (Shadow and Shine Book 1) Page 21