by J. Thorn
As he approached the building, the rain slowed to a fine mist. He stared up at the windows and was surprised when he didn’t see candlelight flickering from inside. They had been sure to keep the light inside to a minimum, not wanting to attract anyone—or anything—but he knew where to look, so it should have been easy to spot.
He steered the boat around to the back of the building, parking it behind a concrete wall which stretched across the backside of the property. No one would see the boat from the street. He grabbed some rope he’d taken from the shed at Neil’s sister’s house and tied the oarlock to a post so the boat wouldn’t float away. Dax hopped out then and trudged through the water, which had risen to his waist, heading to the front of the building. He tried not to think about the things that could be swimming around him—like more snakes.
The water had forced the door open—or that’s what he told himself at the moment. The entire ground floor was flooded. Dax sloshed through the water and headed for the stairwell.
As he climbed the stairs, he knew something was wrong.
Silence.
Kids are never this quiet.
Dax reached to his waist and grabbed the Glock.
“Hello? Chloe? Neil?”
No reply.
He continued climbing, shouting their names again toward the upper floors of the building in case they’d decided to take to higher ground.
Dax headed straight for their hallway. He clicked on the flashlight, pointing the light into each room as he passed.
He reached the children’s room first. Their bags remained on the floor, their few possessions spread throughout the room.
Next, he came to Isaac’s room. Again, his belongings were left, and his small bag sat on top of the bed.
As Dax approached Chloe’s room, he slowed. He caught the unmistakable coppery scent of fresh blood. His pulse quickened, and he felt a shiver along the back of his neck. He stepped toward her room with legs that felt as if they were still walking through waist-deep water.
“Chloe?”
Dax shined the light around the room, coming to a stop as it illuminated the other side.
Neil’s body hung from the wall. Someone had driven nails through the man’s clothing, his arms and legs spread wide. Neil’s stomach had been splayed open. His innards spilled from the cavity, over his slacks, and down his legs. The man’s mouth had been pried open into a silent scream. His glasses remained on his face, although one of the lenses had been cracked. Rats ran over the man’s corpse, hissing at Dax as they protected their find.
Dax turned away, unable to look at the body any longer. He gagged, and his stomach flipped.
Who did this? It ain’t something a gang would do.
And then he thought about the only other people he had seen in the past few days.
“Screamers.”
Dax snapped the flashlight at Neil and then around the rest of the room, hoping to God that he was the only one they had killed.
The silence in this place. You know they must’ve killed the others, too. Including Chloe.
He took a step forward and then stopped. His legs wanted to move him into the hallway to check on the others, but his mind was paralyzed. Dax spun and then cursed, the Glock still in one hand and the flashlight in his other. As the beam spun past Neil’s desecrated corpse, something caught Dax’s eye—a small, white object sticking out of the dead man’s shirt pocket.
Dax crept toward the body. He reached up and grabbed a piece of paper from the pocket, avoiding Neil’s dead face. Dax’s fingers smeared blotches of blood across the paper as he unfolded it.
The note was written in blood.
Come. Or the rest suffer the same fate.
Dax recognized the name of the building scribbled beneath the threatening words. If he remembered correctly, it was only a few blocks away.
He folded the note and shoved it into his pocket. Dax paused for a moment and closed his eyes then, trying to recite a prayer for Neil. But he couldn’t remember one.
“I’m sorry, Neil. Rest in peace.”
Dax took one last look at the old man and left the room. He had to get to the address on the note.
He had to save Isaac, Chloe, and the kids.
48
Dax understood that his size alone provided him with an advantage. Three Mexicans had jumped him in the prison yard as part of a gang initiation, and still, he had been able to stay alive until the guards arrived. He remembered standing tall and holding his own in that fight, never showing fear.
He would never wish prison time on anyone, though. Dax regretted his actions and had accepted what he had done. Every night, he saw the face of the child whose parents he had killed. But through all of it, Dax believed in himself—he was a survivor. No matter who came at him, Dax would fight to the death.
But that had been prison, and those threats had been human. What exactly was happening now? Was this how the world would end? He’d seen people with glowing eyes and impossible strength. He’d watched one of those infected men die, the orange light fade, and the real man came back. Or had he? And of everything he’d seen from these people, the Screamers, it hadn’t been random. They moved in packs and attacked together. It was like they had been coordinated, organized.
Dax’s hands shook as he untied the boat from the fence. He tugged the starter cord, and the motor roared to life. The rain had stopped, but the clouds still eclipsed the moon. Dax pulled out the flashlight and shined the beam ahead so he could steer the boat around the side of the building and back out into the street.
At the end of the road, he turned toward the name of the building scribbled on the bloody note left in Neil’s shirt pocket.
Don’t think about him or what they did. Stay focused.
He had no idea how many people had been killed, or how many had fled New Orleans. Dax wasn’t sure how far out this catastrophe was spread, but he hadn’t heard a single airplane or helicopter in days—maybe weeks.
“Help!”
He flashed the light in the direction of the cry.
A blonde woman in her late forties or early fifties waved at him from the front porch of a tiny, rectangular house with a door and a single window—what they called a “shotgun shack” in old New Orleans. She jumped up and down, frantically swinging both arms in the air.
You don’t have time for this. Remember what happened the last time you stopped? Stay focused, Dax.
He ignored her and maneuvered the boat down the street as the woman continued to cry out for help.
Dax heard splashing water coming from her direction, and when he shined the light that way, he saw the woman swimming toward him.
“Goddamnit. I can’t help you. Get back to your house.”
“Please,” the woman said, swimming closer to the boat. “It’s my six-year-old son. His foot is stuck in a hole in the floor, and I can’t get it out.”
She arrived at the boat, holding onto the side as Dax slowed down.
“Look, I’m sorry, but my friends are in trouble.”
“Please. You have to help him. I can’t pull him free, and the water is rising. He’ll die if you don’t help. It’ll only take a minute.”
Dax sighed. He reached down and took the woman’s hand, helping her into the boat. Once he had her inside, he steered the craft toward the woman’s house as she thanked him repeatedly. He pulled to the porch and tied the boat to a post. The woman jumped out first and ran for the door, and Dax followed her into the house.
Inside, it was flooded to about a foot high. Depending on how fast the water rose, the boy could be in real danger.
The woman stopped in the living room and spun to face Dax.
“Where did you get the boat?”
He thought it seemed like an odd question, but he answered quickly before thinking too much about it. “It’s a friend’s. I had to work on the engine to get it started.”
“Really?” The woman paused as a smile crept across her face. “So you can fix engines?”<
br />
“Yeah,” said Dax. He turned his head sideways, wondering why the woman was so fascinated with his mechanical skills when her son was in danger. “Now where’s your boy?”
“What? Oh, I’m sorry. This way.”
She continued down a hallway. At the end of the corridor, the woman stepped aside and gestured Dax toward the open room.
“He’s in there.”
Dax poked his head in and used the flashlight to check the room. Like the rest of the house, a foot of water covered the floor. The colorful bedsheets were still on the bed and posters of cartoon characters hung on the wall. He heard nothing and didn’t see anyone else in the room.
“What kind of shit is this, lady? Are you play—”
Dax heard the hunk of wood connect with his skull a split second before he felt a sudden pain in the back of his head. The room blurred and several voices mumbled together, including the woman’s.
A dark figure appeared in front of Dax, but before he could make it out, his world went black.
49
Chloe lay in the corner opposite of her cellmate. She was thinking about Dax, wondering if he had made it back to the apartment building yet. She assumed he had, and knew he had to be worried about them. What had been his reaction when he had seen Neil?
The old woman had gone silent. In fact, she hadn’t moved in hours. Based on what she’d said earlier, Chloe thought she was safe for the time being.
The door opened slowly. A single person walked into the room.
“Chloe?”
Chloe raised her head from her arms and glanced up.
“Isaac? What are you doing here?”
The teen squatted down. “There isn’t much time.”
“For what? Did you escape?”
“No, they let me come see you.”
“Who?”
Isaac looked back through the open doorway to where two pairs of glowing orange eyes peered back at him.
“Where are the children?”
“Safe. I asked them to keep Monica, Kevin, and Darius out of here until we talked. I didn’t want the kids to hear our conversation. And keep it down because I think there are two Screamers in the hallway trying to listen in.”
Chloe’s mouth went dry. “What is going on, Isaac?”
“We’re leaving.”
“Exactly how?”
“You have to listen to me. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Chloe clenched her jaw, her face turning red.
“Look, I know you’re upset about the kids, but I’m going to get all of us out of here. I have to go do something for the Screamers. And when I come back, they’ll set us free.”
“Where do you have to go?”
Isaac sighed, averting his eyes. “You heard them, Chloe. They didn’t come to that apartment building looking for us.”
Chloe sat up straight as the realization of what Isaac was saying hit her.
“Dax? Why do they want him? You can’t do that.”
“I have no idea. But I have to help them. It’s the only way we’re going to get out of here.”
“He’ll come get us,” Chloe said. “Just wait.”
“Yep. They left him a note on Neil’s body, and I think they expected him to have shown up by now. But he hasn’t.”
“So you’re going looking for Dax—tricking him into coming here?”
Isaac shook his head again. “No trick. He’s coming anyway. They want to make sure he shows up. But don’t worry about how it happens. I got this. I’m going to get us all out.”
Chloe growled. “Except Dax. You can’t turn your back on him. He’s a real person, a human. You’re making a deal with those... things.”
“Turn my back on him? Listen to yourself. He left us, do you remember that? Twice. And you’re saying I’m turning my back on him?” Isaac stood, putting his hands on his hips as he turned from Chloe.
“He was going to get a boat to help us. Dax is a good man. He—”
“No,” Isaac said, yelling now and pointing down at Chloe. “That’s what you fail to understand. He’s a fucking criminal, Chloe. He’s not the same guy you fucked in high school.”
Chloe’s eyes went wide as she stared up at him. Isaac stood tall, his chest heaving as he scowled at her.
“You’re a monster, too. Like those things.”
Isaac shook his head. “I’m doing what has to be done to keep us alive.”
“Even if that means selling out someone who’s helped us?”
“It’s him or us, Chloe. And they want him for some reason. Besides, he made his choice when he got himself locked up. People don’t change.”
“Yeah? Maybe you should look in the mirror.”
Isaac stared down at her for another moment before turning and walking away, back down the hall.
Chloe whispered to herself. “Isaac, don’t do this. Please.”
Chloe crawled back to her corner, her body shaking.
Several moments later, the door opened again. The guards shoved the children into the room.
“Are you guys all right?”
“We’re fine,” Monica said. “They took us to some room and left us alone. Didn’t tell us what they were doing. Then they brought us back here.”
“Did you see Isaac?”
Monica shook her head.
Chloe relaxed next to the children as they huddled together on the floor. Monica rubbed their heads and told them everything was going to be fine. Chloe looked at the woman in the corner who had her back to them.
“His love won’t save you.”
“What?”
“They’re going to kill that boy.”
Chloe stared at the old woman as she rolled over. They made eye contact.
“Are you one of them?”
Chloe had known the answer to the question before she’d asked it, as the woman’s eyes had begun glowing again, the orange hue now a bit brighter.
The woman ignored her question. “You’re never going to get out of here. And that boy—he’s going to die.”
The woman’s eyes flickered for a moment before she took a deep breath and rolled back over toward the wall.
50
Dax’s eyes fluttered open, and he heard chatter and dripping water. His head throbbed and touched the back of it. The pain felt like an electric shock, and his hand came away sticky with blood.
“Hey, y’all. I think he’s awake.”
Dax felt a pair of hands on each wrist, followed by the sound of the ripping plastic teeth of zip ties.
“Yeah, he awake. Now we gonna have to kill the bitch.”
Dax winced and turned away as the beam of a flashlight hit his face and sent shivers of pain through his throbbing head.
“We shoulda left his ass in the house to drown,” someone said.
He closed his eyes until someone lightly slapped his face.
“Open your eyes, nigga.”
Dax opened them, still seeing flashes of white. When they finally went away, he turned to see the men standing in front of him.
“Son of a bitch.”
“What the fuck you say?” Leo said back. The gang member slapped Dax with an open palm hard enough to get his attention. “Yeah, you stupid. Ain’t nowhere for your bitch ass to go, and we got your boat.” He laughed.
Dax looked up to see Chuck standing with several more men around him, a black cap facing forward on his head.
“Surprised to see us?” Chuck asked.
Dax groaned, still trying to shake off the cobwebs and get his bearings.
“Yeah, you wasn’t s’posed to wake up until we was gone. But you was in and out, so we had to take you along for the ride, just in case. Now you making more work for my crew.”
“Where am I?”
Chuck stuck his arms out, a smile lighting up his face. “This is my new pad, nigga,” he said with excitement. “Isn’t she pretty? The main floor is up on risers, so we don’t even have to deal with the flood.”
Dax looked around. Th
e warehouse smelled of spoiled shrimp and diesel fuel. A generator powered three free-standing work lights surrounding a long tabletop sitting on two fifty-five gallon drums.
“Where’s the woman?”
“Oh, she cool. Right back at the house where she’s supposed to be. Got her gathering people as they come by. I gotta tell you, I can’t believe you fell for that shit about the kid getting his foot stuck.”
Leo scoffed. “Dumbass.”
“I wish you could’ve seen my face when they told me it was you riding in a motherfucking boat,” Chuck said. “I thought for sure the fire burnt your ass up. But you delivering a boat to my new digs? That was like Christmas come early.”
“You’re insane.”
Chuck shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m smart. Already got me a new crew together and starting to round up more folks to make meth. Hell, with the few generators we found, we might even be able to get a head start. People gonna start being real desperate for a fix with all the shit going on. I’ll be able to make a fortune long before things get back to normal.”
“How you gonna distribute shit with the way everything is out there?”
Chuck sighed. “Why you think we stole your boat?” He turned around and nodded at his men.
One of the gangsters came forward, pulled Dax up on his knees and then punched him in the gut. Another drove fists into his kidneys. Dax coughed, his body leaning forward and threatening to topple over. Leo stepped up, stopping a couple of feet in front of Dax.
Dax lifted his head to look at the thug.
“You’re gonna fix all the engines we bring to you. We heard you tell our girl that you got that boat running,” Leo said. “And if you don’t help us, we gonna kill your punk ass.”
Dax stifled his coughing fit long enough to spit on the man’s face.
“Fuck you. I’ll die before I fix shit for you.”
“Nah, nigga. You won’t die. But we’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you had.”
Leo put his hand up, and one of the new gang members approached, dropping a 2 x 4 into his open palm.