Rise Once More

by D. Henbane

  He walks gingerly over to his closet, opening the door, and stepping inside. He instinctively places his key into the opening, an intense white light fills the room, as the blue door opens up. A spacious room awaits him, filled with all of sorts of gadgets. Of which he knows every one of them, and there in the center, is a blonde young girl staring at him confusedly.

  “And you are?” She says with a heavy British accent.

  “We have much too discuss. Allonsy!” He says jokingly.

  The door closing behind him, and in a fraction of a second he was gone. The only evidence left behind, was an atomic flash burned upon the white plaster walls. The first infected rips open the closet door to an empty space and the words Police Box etched into the wall.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dead Mans Corner

  Hours pass as Haus drives throughout the night, his mind wondering often, reliving the many events that have lead up to this moment. The reflector posts begin to blur and the sound of the tires on the road are almost hypnotic.

  Haus jerks a little, as he realizes he is dazing off. He rolls the window down to let in some fresh air, stretching his legs out, and presses on the cruise control. Amy wasn't joking when she said this road was a straight shot. Not a single twist in the road. He says silently inside his head, as to not wake the others.

  Haus glances back in the rear view mirror, and sees that Amy is sound asleep. Her head propped up against the window, one hand wrapped under her jaw for support, the other draped lazily to her side. Her face is soft, a few freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, and with every bump in the road her breasts jiggle. She isn't wearing a bra. He chuckles slightly, at the observation, and swerves gently back and fourth.

  Every subtle jerk of the steering wheels, causes Haus to let out a muffled giggle. Well this is one way to pass the time. Although he is entertained, he is also distracted, and fails to see the sign signaling they were entering into Kansas.

  Haus glances over towards Cox, hoping that he hasn't seen him playing around, and finds the doctor still in deep slumber. Haus again, looks into the mirror, this time staring at her hips. Is she a virgin? No way. Not in this day and age. Suddenly, Amy shifts her position in the seat, her shirt wrinkled up behind her back.

  Her belly button was now exposed, and Haus continues to look on. His pulse quickens a little, and he focuses on her piercing; a small yellow smiley face. Ah! That's her little secret, deep down she is a rebel, but too self conscious to be blatant about it. Another bump in the road and Amy begins to slide downward towards the floor board. Her shirt slowly rising up exposing more of her skin.

  Haus starts to feel the warmth growing in his face, as he stares into the mirror. He starts to feel a little jittery, and his hands become clammy. Her shirt now positioned, as to show the lower curves of her breasts, but barely above her nipples.

  Haus fantasizes about the shape, texture, and size of her areolas. Is she a small perfect round, or oblong biggie? Gotta be a small to medium. One more bump... Come on. Almost there. A streak of green darts past his left side, a blurred image of a large road sign in his peripheral vision.

  He rips his focus from the mirror, but he is too late, and the car leaves the road. The headlights jerk up into the air, the front of the car angled towards the sky. They hover for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

  The car slams back into the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of Haus as he hears screams coming from his passengers. He can't see anything in front of him, just ears of corn flying in every direction. The car suddenly stops, the force of the impact forcing him to hit his head against the steering wheel. As he loses consciousness he can hear a loud hissing noise in front of him.

  ***

  The sound of Amy screaming draws him back into reality, and he reaches out for the door handle. Shattered glass covering his lap, and falling like small pellets of hail onto the ground. He manages to undo his seat belt and fall out onto the Earth below. He can taste the sickly sweet vapors of antifreeze misting into the air.

  His head is pounding and his vision distorted, even sounds appear to come from all directions. He glances up to see Amy doubled over and clenching her stomach. Streaks of blood drip down her face from the many small lacerations of the shattered glass. She is screaming and fumbling around the devastated corn field.

  Amy vomits and falls to her knees, the pile of puke in front of her, she turns fighting back the urge to heave again. Haus rushes over to her side. He places his hands under her chin, lifting slightly and looking for serious wounds. “Are you OK?” He says as he examines the wounds covering her face.

  “My head hurts...” Amy says.

  “You're pretty cut up, but I don't see anything major.” Haus says. “COX! Where are you?” his voice trailing into the night air. Only the driver's headlight was working, the other rendered useless after the crash. Haus looks up to see a fertilizer sprayer and the wreckage of the car. The impact had caused one of the sprayers massive tires to snap off the shaft resting on the hood and roof of the car.

  Haus rushes to the passenger door, he reaches for the handle, but the door is crushed in and will not open. He looks inside, seeing the hole in the windshield and two mangle legs protruding from it. He looks back at Amy; the look on his face must have said it all, as she covered her face and started crying.

  Haus moves forward, placing his hand on the hood, and reaches back under the fallen tire, his hand blindly searching for Cox's body. Finally Haus finds Cox's arm, the flesh is still warm, but doesn’t respond to his touch. He grabs a hold of Cox's wrist, and finds no pulse. He must have taken his seat belt off to sleep.

  Haus moves to the other side of the car, the headlight reflecting off his brightly colored shirt, illuminating the grizzly scene in front of him. Cox laid on the hood of the car, completely crushed by the tire, a pool of his blood dripping down the mangled hood. Haus exhales deeply, crouching into a fetal position. “What the hell have I done?” He whispers.

  ***

  The sun broke above the prairie horizon, the first light of the day, a weak orange glow. Haus remained sulking on the ground, his heart filled with regret and shame. “There is nothing you can do for him.” Amy says as she lays her hand on Haus's shoulder.

  “We need to bury him...” Haus says devoid of emotion.

  “We can't move that tire. I know my farm equipment, and the three of us couldn't have lifted it.” Amy says. “Did you fall asleep?” Amy asks.

  Haus thought for a moment, a geyser of anger welled up inside of him. Disgust at himself, and even for a moment anger at her. It is entirely my fault. Why did she even have to come along? What the hell was I thinking? Once again my dick gets me into trouble. “Yeah. I wasn't paying attention...” Haus says as he lets out a sigh.

  “Accidents happen; it has been hard on all of us. Sorry about your friend.” Amy says.

  “Ahhh. Fuck!” Haus says as he stands up and kicks the car.

  “Too soon?” Amy says.

  Haus begins punching and kicking the car violently, picking up broken pieces and throwing them into the corn field. The anger building and receding, like an ebb and flow of the tide. For each punch or kick, it helped quiet the storm inside of him.

  “Did you hear that?” Amy says as she draws closer to Haus. Haus stops his assault and places his hand close to his ear. The ruffle of the leaves was unmistakable. Something was coming towards them, hidden by the labyrinth of corn stalks. “We gotta go!” Amy says.

  Amy starts off at a sprint, quickly out pacing Haus. Her years playing Volleyball left her in much better condition than he was. Haus stops abruptly and shouts out for Amy. “Wait! We need the bag!” Haus doubles back towards the car, leaping inside and grabbing the back pack from the back seat all while trying not to look out onto Cox's flattened face.

  The image was too much for him to bear. He turns to run once again, but stops, returning one last time to grab the shotgun. He can barely make out Amy as she is so far ahead of him.
Running dead sprint through mowed down corn rows. The fallen crops forming a path back to the road were they had come from.

  An infected female breaks from the lush green crops, directly in front of Haus about 15 yards. He draws the shotgun and fires, the body falling to the ground in a heap as he runs past, running as fast as his legs can muster, right past the broken fence and back onto the open road. Amy was waiting for him; she stopped after she heard the blast. She thought of running back towards him, but was held frozen by the fear of the unknown that lie hidden amongst the corn.

  “Give me the bag.” Amy says.

  “Why?” Haus asks.

  “Because I am faster than you, that’s why.” Amy says.

  “Good idea.” Haus says, half winded, as he tosses the bag to her. The two run down the road, Amy slowing at times to allow Haus to catch back up. Finally Haus had had enough, he couldn't breathe fast enough and his thighs were on fire. He stopped to catch his breath and motions for her to stop. He doubles over, inhaling rapidly, his ears peaked for any sounds of movement.

  A few minutes pass without any danger, and Haus is ready to move on. “Silence is good to hear.” Haus says.

  “It could be worse ya know. There could have been more of them.” Amy says encouragingly.

  “How about we just walk. So what's your story?” Haus asks.

  “My story? Well, I am a farm girl, but...” Amy says hesitantly.

  “But? You want to be a movie star, right? The bright lights and all the glamor, escape the fields for the fast paced city life.”

  “No. I love the country and the small-town life. I just don't want people to think I am a dumb hick. I can wrestle a pig, but I am getting my degree, even though I will probably never use it.” Amy pauses, looks around and sighs. “I'm definitely not going to be making my music anymore.”

  “Are you kidding? This whole disaster would make a perfect country song; 'Music to commit suicide to.' Haus says.

  “Eeewww. Country music!” Amy points her index finger towards her mouth while making choking noises. “Techno actually.” Amy says.

  “You. Techno... Really?” Haus says sarcastically.

  “Yes techno, what's wrong with that?” Amy asks.

  “You just don't fit the part. When I think of techno, I think of some freak in a rave spazzing out on ecstasy. Rubbing up on inanimate objects. Boom, Pop, WOW-WOW.”

  Amy laughs out loud, shaking her head slightly. “There are a few of those guys. To me it's different. Techno is more than just music, each note by itself sounds terrible, but once they all get together it's so fluid. It is the musical version of a prayer, a meditation almost.” Amy says.

  “I can relate... I am an EBM guy. You can laugh all you want.” Haus says with a smile.

  “Not going to laugh, but I am no music purist. Both are electronic and that works for me. So aside from good music, what is your story?” Amy asks.

  “Well I used to be a hacker, now I am... Well I don't see much of a role for me anymore. I am technically dead.” Haus says.

  “You look pretty alive for a dead person.” Amy says jokingly. “How did you end up dead?”

  “Call it a condition of employment. I had to be erased. To protect my boss, in case I ever got discovered. They would just assume I was insane and problem solved I guess.” Haus says.

  “You didn't find that strange?” Amy asks.

  “Oh yeah I did. The whole process was messed up, but then again given what I had for a former life, it was a no-brainer decision on my end.” Haus says.

  “Compared to me, your life is a lot more interesting. Tell me the coolest thing ever to happen in your life.” Amy says.

  “Hmm. The coolest thing? I escaped from an underground research facility that the military bombed in order to prevent me from getting to the surface. My life has been really interesting since joining Omega Phi. If you had asked me that question six months ago, my reply would be reaching level cap on some video game.” Haus says.

  “So you're serious about this whole secret agent thing aren't you?” Amy asks.

  “Why? Do you think I am lying to you?” Haus asks.

  “Well I thought you were freaking nuts, but I needed a ride out of that place. So I just went along with it.” Amy says.

  Haus raises his right hand, and points towards his bar code tattoo. “I didn't do that as a fashion statement.” He says sternly. “I'm not crazy. It would be easier if I was.” Amy looks him directly in the eyes, and he doesn't even flinch. “Right now, getting to Georgia is our best shot of surviving this mess.”

  The two walk in silence for several miles. Haus was still trying to cope with his actions that lead to the loss of his friend. Amy was uncomfortable with the silence, but felt it was better just to say nothing at all. The sun directly above their heads, beat down upon them relentlessly, one thing the flat prairie land lacks is shade. Amy was the first to break the silence. “I'm thirsty. Do you have any water?”

  “Yeah, we should take a break and grab something to eat. I hope you like jerky, it's all I got.”

  “Anything works. I am freaking starving.” Amy says.

  They sit on the side of the road, sharing the meager rations they have left, as the heat radiates off the pavement, it creates a mirage affect, looking as if there was water just a few yards down the road. Amy knew that it wasn't water, but the reflection of the sky.

  “Isn't that amazing?” Amy says.

  “What?” Haus asks as he chews on his slice of jerky.

  “The way the heat makes it look like there's water on the road. I bet it drives people insane when they run out of water.” Amy says.

  “That's going to be us in a few hours. This is the last bottle of water. We have to make a decision here. We can stick with the road and slowly get baked to death, or we can walk into the fields. It will be cooler in the fields; we can eat some corn along the way, and hopefully not get lost.”

  “You can't eat that corn.” Amy says.

  “I eat corn all the time. I think it is a good plan.” Haus says.

  “You must be from the city, Mr Survival Expert. That is field corn, not sweet corn, very big difference. It looks like corn, but it is not the corn you buy at the store. It is for feeding to animals not humans. You can't even digest it, without grinding it, and it tastes terrible.” Amy says with an air of confidence. “If you want to escape the heat, let's walk in the burrow ditch, but we need to stick to the road and hope we find something to scavenge.”

  “Are you sure?” Haus asks.

  Amy walks down to the first row of the field, leans over, and removes one corn ear. She husks the corn, folding it back, and snapping it at the base of the stem. A series of movements with her hands, that appears to be of second nature. She hands the fresh cob over to Haus. “Take a taste. I have done this a time or two. You don't name a popular football team after it for nothin'.”

  Haus takes a bite, chewing slightly, and a repulsive look crosses his face. “You're right this tastes like shit.” He says as he tosses the cob to the ground. His pride took a small hit, but he realizes that he now has a valuable companion to compliment their journey together. A newly found respect for Amy starts to take a firm rooting in his psyche. Amy smiles, a quick wink towards Haus and a giggle escapes her lips.

  “A country girl can survive.” She says walking away. A deliberately slow pace, as she motions with her hand for Haus to follow.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bad Flap Jacks

  The sun hung low in the horizon, shrinking into the western sky. Amy and Haus have been walking all day, and with little reserves left the situation is looking worse by the hour. The water was gone, but they still had a few small pieces of jerky left and the label-less mystery can.

  “It's going to be dark soon.” Amy says.

  “Well at least it will be cooler out here. We need to find water.” Haus says.

  “We just might be in luck! Look at that sign up ahead.” Amy says as she starts to jog forward exc
itedly, filled with a second wind of energy. The source of this new found vigor leaves Haus confused. He stands still, wondering if she had officially lost her fragile mind. After a few moments his resistance is stamped out, and he rushes to catch up with her.

  His feet were sore, he was thirsty, and not in a mood to play games. His stomach growls to remind him that it has been a while since it was given nourishment, and some cramping signals that dehydration is starting to set in. He joins Amy as she looks back at him, her face lit up with a large smile.

  “Why are you so excited?” Haus asks.

  “Well duh, just look at the sign.” Amy says pointing upwards, but Haus raises an eyebrow in disapproval. He examines the sign carefully looking for something of importance painted upon it. Little Siddy Recreation Area. He recognizes the square with a gas pump inside it, but the others he does not understand.

  His mind grows more impatient, and his critical thinking skills suffer. The only thing on his mind is the search for water. “We don't have a car Eve, so what good does gas do us?” He says hastily. After the words had left his mouth, he was able to digest them, and a thought crossed his mind. Eve. That was the first time in quite a while he had said her name.

  “Who's Eve?” Amy asks.

  Haus froze, unsure of what to say next, so he remained silent and rubbed his forehead. Memories rushed forward inside his mind, as it occurs to him, that he hasn't thought about her in a long time as well. The urge to survive had blocked her out somehow, cast aside like an unwanted toy, something to worry about at another time.

  That was the worst possible thing I could have said. What the hell was I thinking? Wait a minute... I wasn't thinking. Now she is going to want an explanation, and I don't have time to fuck around. Focus dammit! We need water, not drama, just some damn water. Think Haus!

  “Who is Eve?” Amy asks again, her hand resting on his shoulder, ducking slightly under his arm, and tilting her head to make eye contact with him. She mentally braces herself for his answer. Had she re-opened a partially healed wound, spoken the name of a loved one, recently lost much like his friend Dr. Cox. It was out of instinct that she had asked, she hadn't meant to stir up painful emotions, and regretted asking. It was hard enough to see him suffer for hours back at the car crash, he had already endured enough and now she had made it worse once again.