“Screw the presentation and let’s get my grandson,” Fred gripes. “I didn’t drive two days to wait on a bunch of hoity-toity bullshit.”
“Screw you,” Kyle spits.
“Damnit Kyle! I want…”
Kyle angrily retorts, “You’re not important. I don’t care what you want!”
People start to turn their heads and watch.
“Not them again,” Fred groans recognizing the approaching police canine unit. “Can this day get any worse?”
“Please gentlemen; this isn’t the time or place. Please take your seats.”
Fred begrudgingly sits and Michael returns to the podium. Kyle remains fuming near the refreshment tent. A dark blue presidential limousine pulls to the curb. It slows as if to park but does not come to a stop and speeds away. Whispers ripple through the audience.
“That was the president’s daughter?” Michael stammers, shocked.
“I don’t know,” Mark says with a puzzled frown. “I’m calling Director White.”
Ringing chimes from every cell phone on the west lawn. Michael looks at his phone.
…Alert DC Alert DC… A Tsunami Threat has been issued for the entire East Coast…This is not a drill… Follow Evacuation Procedures…More information to follow. Alert DC Alert DC…
7
Juliet watches Sara drizzle ketchup faces on toasted buns before applying beef patties. Dawn giggles at Sara’s handiwork and places more buns into the toaster. The new hires are blonde, giggly, and getting on her nerves.
“You’re supposed to spot the ketchup. Smiles are cute, but slow down production,” Juliet says.
“I know, but this is cooler,” Dawn answers.
“The bosses don’t want us to play with the food.”
The shift managers are smoking cigarettes behind the building and left Juliet in charge. Only six employees work the undermanned shift.
“Ewe, I got my hands sticky from the patties,” Sara says. The girl bounces away from her work station. “I’ll be right back.”
“Dawn, can you salt the fries?” Juliet asks and wraps a sandwich.
“Do I have too?”
“Yes Dawn.”
Ten minutes pass and the orders lag behind.
“Dawn, why isn’t Sara or the managers back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s sick. I heard a lot of people called in with the flu.”
“Take the fries out when the bell rings. I’ll be right back.”
Juliet scans the lobby but only finds Rodger, an older gentleman who works mornings. The restaurant is constructed on the first floor of an old building resulting in a windowless dining room.
“Rodger, I need you to empty the trash cans. Have you seen Sara?”
“She went to the bathroom, something to do with grease on her hands.”
“Where are the managers?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Rodger walks to the overflowing trash cans as Juliet checks the restrooms. The sinks and toilets in the women’s restroom are spotless. There’s ample soap, paper towels, and toilet paper, but no Sara. She gives a firm, loud, warning knock on the men’s restroom door.
“Sara?”
Juliet opens the door. In the room are two men in a heated discussion. One holds a plastic bag of white pills and the other a fistful of crumpled cash. Sara sits in a haze near the sink, her hair disheveled and eyes drowsy. Her work pants are bunched on the floor.
“Hey,” Juliet yells and thrusts open the door. “I’m calling the cops!”
Seth shoves the money into his pocket and angrily fixes her with a ferocious stare. His intensity makes her step back.
“Seth, man, let’s get out of here,” the other man says.
“Rodger!” she yells.
Seth roughly grabs Juliet’s arm and flings her into the bathroom. He shoves her against the urinal and the back of her head bounces off the tiled wall. Juliet’s vision swims as his angular face looms above hers. With his left hand he holds a white pill to her lips.
“Ouch, you’re hurting me! Help!”
“Seth, what are you doing? They’re calling the cops.”
“Shut up Andrew. Baby, I got all the help you need right here.”
“Seth, this is fucked up, man.”
“Help me!” she yells.
“Thisss isn’t righttt,” Sara says. The blonde girl can’t focus past the Killer Z forced into her. “Iss that you Juliettt?”
“Juliet is a pretty name for a whore,” Seth hisses.
Juliet jerks her head side to side and seals her lips shut. Seth presses his lower body against hers. She bucks against him and knees his balls.
Seth collapses to the floor crying, “Bitch!”
The walls rattle with a deep vibration and the overhead lights flicker. Andrew trips into a stall. Juliet rushes to Sara and struggles to help the girl up. She drags Sara into the hallway and yells for help. The whole world shakes and Sara slips from her grasp. Burger Baron awards crash to the floor. Juliet smacks her palms against the walls but falls to her knees.
“Help me!” Juliet cries.
A deafening boom echoes through the restaurant and everything goes pitch black. She can’t tell if her eyes are open or closed. She sits up, dizzy and disorientated, and fumbles with her cell phone. Its little flash light casts a soft light a few feet around her. Broken ceiling tiles litter the hallway and dust fills the air. A single emergency light glows from the kitchen and the city’s emergency sirens wail in the distance.
“Sara?”
“What happened? Where am I?” Sara croaks from her left.
“I don’t know. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Oh my God, I was in the bathroom and those two creeps…”
“We need to get to the lobby. Can you get up?”
Sara tries but slumps to the floor weakly and asks, “What’s wrong with me?”
“They drugged you.”
Muffled male voices come from the bathroom.
“Sara, come on.”
“I want to go home,” Sara cries but allows Juliet to get her to her feet and fix her clothes.
They slip through a door leading to the kitchen.
“Dawn?” Juliet asks.
Dawn slumps into a deep fryer. Juliet stares with huge eyes at Dawn’s unmoving form. A musty sweet odor makes it hard to breath.
“Oh god….the smell…” Sara’s voice flattens. “Is she dead?”
“Stop looking.”
“But she’s dead. What do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
Juliet calls out for the supervisors and hears someone in the hallway. Light from a flashlight blinds her. She fears it’s the men in the bathroom and looks for a weapon.
“Leave us alone!” Sara shouts.
“Is everyone alright?” a man asks.
The light beam shifts revealing a tall older man dressed in an army jacket, a scruffy t-shirt, and blue jeans. One sleeve of his old army jacket is pinned up at the elbow. Rodger rushes to the girls.
“Are you gals alright?” Rodger asks. “Harry, this is Juliet and Sara.”
“My phone says a tsunami is coming!” Sara shrieks.
A commotion starts in the lobby as others read the same message. Juliet looks at her phone.
…Alert DC Alert DC… A Tsunami Threat has been issued for the entire East Coast…This is not a drill… Follow Evacuation Procedures…More information to follow. Alert DC Alert DC…
“Do you have a first aid kit?” Harry asks.
Juliet looks at him blankly.
“We need a first aid kit for the wounded.”
Juliet points to a red and white box fixed to the wall above Sara.
“Two men in the bathroom attacked Sara.”
Juliet is uncertain if they will believe her.
“You’re safe now. Point them out and stick close to us,” Harry says.
Rodger asks, “Are you alright, Sara?”
“I remember getting hi
t on the head,” Sara says with a slur. “They forced me to take something.”
They follow Harry and Rodger into the lobby. Juliet helps Sara to an intact chair. The floor under her feet is slightly tilted. The large room is full of turned over tables and spilled garbage bins. Broken ceiling tiles, glass, and chunks of brick wall cover everything. A large support beam blocks the front door. Many cough and are crying.
“Is anyone badly hurt?” Juliet asks.
“Some are dead. We need to tend to the wounded. Believe it or not I was a medic in the Korean War. The first thing we have to do is sort the injured from the uninjured. What other resources do we have? Is there another exit?” Harry asks.
“What do you mean by resources?” Juliet asks.
“Maybe water? Or a second first aid kit?”
Juliet nods and says, “Rodger, see if you can get into the storage room for bottled water and I can get the second med kit in the manager’s office.”
Juliet catches a whiff of rotten eggs coming from the kitchen.
“Do you smell that?” Rodger asks.
Harry blurts, “The gas!”
The vet rushes past her. Juliet knows she should follow but can’t bring herself to face Dawn’s body again.
“Found it!” Harry yells and returns to the dining room.
Harry gives Juliet a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and says, “I checked the bathrooms and didn’t find the men you were talking about.”
“You believe me, right?” Juliet asks.
“Yeah, I reckon they are up to no good. We will keep an eye out for them.”
Rodger returns with a box of napkins and a case of water.
“Good job,” Harry tells Rodger. “Give everyone one bottle.”
“Can someone go to the manager’s office with me?” Juliet asks.
“I will,” Harry says.
“What if we run into those men? They aren’t missing a hand, no offense.”
“They won’t mess with you with me around.”
Juliet approaches the office and hears Seth’s voice. “Is the safe locked?”
The vet shoves open the door and shouts, “What are you doing in here?”
“Who the hell are you?” Seth barks.
“That’s them, Harry.”
“We were just having a little fun,” Seth sneers.
“You raped Sara and deserve to die!” Juliet rages.
“Andrew, take care of the old man.”
“You fucked with the wrong guys, you old fart,” Andrew yells and charges Harry.
Harry dodges the sloppy attack and strikes Andrew’s elbow beneath the joint. The bone snaps with a crack.
“You want a turn?” Harry looks at Seth.
“This isn’t over,” Seth sneers, making no move to help his comrade as he inches towards the door. “You better watch your back.”
Andrew follows cradling his broken arm.
“Are you alright?” Harry’s weathered face is full of concern.
“Yeah,” Juliet mutters and adjusts her clothing to breathe easier.
“They won’t be a problem now that they know we’re watching.”
The employee lockers have fallen to the floor. Harry searches the manager’s desk as she fishes out her backpack.
“Harry, turn around. I need to change.”
Harry locates the second emergency kit and dutifully turns his back as Juliet changes her work shirt for a t-shirt.
“Ok, I’m dressed. You’re a good fighter.”
“Thanks. We need to sort the wounded into three groups - burns, cuts, and breaks,” Harry instructs Juliet as they return to the lobby.
They approach a group of huddled college students. The boys are consoling the girls. Harry fixes his eye on a sturdy looking young man.
“What’s your name, son?”
“Jack,” the boy responds. His solid, medium frame is covered with dust.
“Ok, Jack. My name is Harry. Can you help clear the front door?”
“Sure,” Jack says.
As Harry organizes first aid and dig out efforts Seth and Andrew watch warily from the shadows.
8
Larry grips the metal banister as the earth heaves. The street fills with sooty smoke as men and woman pour out of the surrounding buildings. Granite and rock cut into his palms as he loses his grip and lands on the ground. He had been waiting for Alberto who had gone into the Capitol Building visitor center to use the restroom. Pixel strains her leash and the leather to dig into his cut up hands.
A grey polished wall of granite falls in chunks onto a group of security officers, followed by a large deafening boom. The walls supporting the first level of the building sag into the earth. Fleeing tourists and city workers run out of the visitor center but stop as they realize outside is no better. The cast iron dome screeches as its weight shifts left to right. Alberto emerges from the entrance and makes eye contact with Larry. A fierce determination is in his partner’s eyes.
“Hell no,” Larry mutters, knowing what that look means.
Alberto drags Larry to his feet.
“Alberto, we need to get out of here.”
“No Larry, we need to help everyone inside. This is why we’re cops!”
People stumble in a daze. Security guards and personnel try helping the injured. A child holding a broken arm cries for his mother. Ten feet away legs and feet can be seen sticking out of the rubble from a collapsed wall. A water main in the fountain shoots upwards and sends the statue of a man riding a horse into the air.
“The east plaza is under water!” a guard shouts.
“It’s flooding in there,” Larry says. “We need to go!”
“Larry...”
“The damn visitor center is underground, you moron. And the dome might fall on us.”
“What about duty, Larry?”
“Screw duty. Let’s sit tight and wait until things calm down.”
“But we are here to protect and serve!”
“We can do our duty without worrying about a fucking dome collapsing on our heads, or water flooding the tunnels!”
“You’re a coward! Let me have Pixel!”
Larry’s bleeding hand tightens on the leash. Alberto gives him a condemning glare and disappears into the trembling building.
An injured office worker stumbles up to Larry and pleads, “Please help me.”
“Leave me alone,” Larry mumbles, backing away.
The cop fumbles for his cell phone but it doesn’t work. He tosses it to the ground and yells, “Fuck technology.”
Pixel leaps towards the entrance and he loses grip of the leash.
“Shit. Come back Pixel!”
Against his better judgment he follows the dog inside. Security officers are directing everyone out of the building. Voices are lost within chaos. Screams and shrieks put him on edge and he breaks into a cold sweat. Statues and artifacts representing the original artisans are broken. A bronze robust head of George Washington pins a struggling Senator to the floor. Pixel darts into a side corridor leading to the Emancipation Hall.
On the opposite side of the thirty foot high, skylight lit hall security personnel hold an armed position at both the House and Senate entrances. A tourist in a loud flowery shirt waves his arms and screams at one of the guards. He tries shoving the guard aside. The guard shoves him back, draws his weapon, and fires with a pop. The tourist crumples to the floor.
Larry looks away and down into the hall below. Alberto is helping the injured on the lower floor. Above, the skylights moan and metal twists under pressure from the quake.
Larry bellows and points, “The skylights!”
No one can hear him in the chaos. He can do nothing as the faltering frames release thousands of shards of glass on those below.
“Pixel, where are you?”
The sound of barking from the gift shop cuts through the noise.
“Damn dog, why won’t you listen?”
Larry rushes to the shop. Inside the devastated store
Pixel tugs on the sleeve of a young man who is pinned underneath a fallen display cabinet. Pictures and mugs litter the floor. Larry heaves the cabinet away.
“Are you ok?” Larry asks an Asian kid.
The teen blinks at him and then erupts into gibberish. Aftershocks shake ceiling dust and chunks of tile down on them. Larry pulls the boy to his feet.
“Kid, do you speak English?”
The boy shakes his head no.
“Of all the dumb shit…” Larry says and grabs the boy’s arm.
They escape the shaking shop and he pulls the boy and Pixel into the tunnel leading to the Library of Congress.
9
The earth shakes as pillars of fire curl smoke into the sky. Fred peers through the smoke and hopes to see Jesus’ second coming. No trumpets or angels herald the savior’s grand return.
“Oh sweet Jesus, where are you?” Fred wails.
“Give it a rest, Dad. It’s just an earthquake. Jesus isn’t going to save us, but your truck will.”
“Look Kyle, I know we have our differences but screw the truck. The baby is our number one priority!”
“I know. But he’s at the hospital and we are here. We need the damn truck!”
“Why is the baby at the hospital?”
“Calm down, Dad. He was having an allergic reaction to a new medication.”
“Why’s he on medication?”
“It doesn’t matter, dad. We just need to get there.”
A thunderous crack echoes through the block. Independence Avenue splits in two. Terrified pedestrians scramble to the sidewalks as asphalt disintegrates. Parked vehicles are sucked into the widening hole. People scream for help as they tumble into the unknown.
“How do you expect me to drive my truck in this?” Fred asks and backpedals away from a crack appearing in the sidewalk.
Parking meters and trees tilt downwards and disappear into the churning earth. Entire buildings disappear and leave clouds of dust. Broken water lines spew fountains of water high into the air. Kyle grabs his arm as a giant dust cloud obscures their vision.
Kyle leads them along the cracked and empty Capitol Reflecting pool. Panicked people run in between the buildings on Madison Drive. The Washington Monument slants like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Emergency sirens from ambulances and fire trucks screech in the distance but are unable to reach the National Mall due to the quake destroyed roads.
Killer Z Page 3