Black Fever_A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by Mark Gillespie

  Before Harry could respond, there was a sharp clicking noise. One of the van doors was pushed open and several people stepped out onto the street. Three men and two women, all approximately in their mid-thirties, made their way towards the side of the vehicle’s bonnet. To Cody’s surprise, those who had been pursuing them were dressed like everyday office workers, albeit a bit on the black side. Both the men and women wore dark, tight-fitting suits with black ties hanging down the front. It was a smart and deadly uniform – all five of them carried a pistol at their sides. The gun was low, but ready.

  More van doors opened. More people stepped onto the road. They were dressed in the same manner as the others – the office funeral look. Grim and tidy. They had guns too, either pistols or rifles that hung at their sides. Cody wasn’t sure why they weren’t pointing their weapons at the Resistance. They looked a little too relaxed.

  The last man to step outside wasn’t armed. The other suits immediately stepped to the side, opening up a path for him to cut through the middle.

  This man walked amidst the tunnels of light cast by the headlights. He was a strikingly handsome man with a chiseled jawline and slicked back, blondish-brown hair that ran down to the back of his neck. He was probably in his late forties or early fifties and with his sharp silver-gray suit, he stood in contrast to the darker clothes of his companions.

  Cody noticed a crescent-shaped scar underneath his bottom lip.

  “Hello,” the man said. His voice was like a sharp blade that cut through the air. “That was a good chase – a worthy effort on your part. I enjoyed that.”

  Nick pushed his way through the Resistance lines. He pointed his rifle at the man. Cody expected the suits to respond but they didn’t – Nick might as well have been shoving a water pistol in their face.

  “You ain’t no little green man,” Nick said. “I bet if I pulled this trigger you’d bleed red all over that expensive suit, am I right?”

  The man didn’t answer. His cold eyes scanned the Resistance lines, taking in each and every face along the way. When he saw Cody and Rachel standing near the front, the man’s stare lingered for a while longer. The interest was obvious.

  Cody knew what he had to do. He nudged Rachel towards Crazy Diamond. Rachel’s arms reached back for him, but Cody shook his head.

  Crazy Diamond took Rachel by the hand and stepped back.

  Cody reached for the pistol tucked in at his waist. Drawing the weapon, he walked up beside Nick and pointed it at the silver suit’s handsome head. He didn’t care about the rest of the suits. Let them shoot it if they wanted to – Cody was all for that. He was ready to die. Anything was better than letting them get their hands on Rachel. And already he had little doubt – that’s exactly what they wanted.

  If only the Resistance would fight alongside them. They would have a chance.

  Nick and Cody exchanged a curt nod. They looked over at Layla, who’d reluctantly lowered her weapon on her father’s orders. Layla’s eyes lingered on Cody. Her expression was ruthless. With a grunt, she turned back to the suits, lifted her rifle and took aim.

  “Fuck it,” she said.

  Layla’s actions encouraged some of the others who were armed to come forward. Cody’s heart rejoiced. They would take a stand against these people, whoever they were. There were about nine Resistance soldiers lined up alongside Cody, Nick and Layla. All had their weapons locked onto the suits.

  Harry groaned, so loudly that it could be heard for miles. He dragged his feet forward, like he was wading through quicksand. Without saying a word, he tucked himself into the line of soldiers, front and center.

  He looked down at the others and smiled.

  “I don’t know who you are mister,” Harry said, turning back to the silver suit. “And I don’t want to know. But if it’s a straight shootout you want, we’ll give you one. If you’re here to get what I think you are, you’re plain out of luck.”

  Harry pointed his revolver – an old-school Colt python – at the man’s head.

  The handsome man shook his head. “You can’t win.”

  Nick snorted in disgust. His AR-15, like most Resistance weapons, was pointing directly at the silver suit. “Maybe not,” he said. “But I can at least blow your head off before one of yours does the same to me. I got you in my sights pretty boy. You ready to die?”

  The man’s lips curved into a half-smile.

  “I’ve been ready for a long time. How about you?”

  “Are you sure you want to do it like this?” Harry called out. “Lot of people going to die in a gunfight like this. There’s other ways you know. Nobody has to die.”

  The man nodded. “Yes they do.”

  Harry shook his head in disappointment. “Have it your own way shithead.”

  The Resistance leader lifted up a hand. With the other, he pointed the Colt at the suits.

  “One…”

  Cody’s finger caressed the trigger. But something wasn’t right and he knew it. The suits didn’t look in the least bit perturbed that Harry was in the midst of counting down to a shootout. They didn’t look stupid either – surely they weren’t going to just stand there and let the Resistance open fire on them.

  “Two…”

  Cody exchanged a worried glance with Nick. The pilot’s face said it all. Something definitely wasn’t right…

  “Three,” the handsome man said.

  The Resistance soldiers swung their bodies to the side. It was a swift and sudden, maneuver that saw their weapons pointing at Cody and Nick. Harry rushed over and pressed his Colt against the back of Cody’s skull. The cold steel pushed Cody’s head forward so that he was forced to look down at the road.

  “Nothing personal,” Harry said.

  “Son of a bitch!” Nick hissed.

  Cody looked to his left. The Resistance had quickly encircled Crazy Diamond, Rachel and Richards. Three rifles closed in on the shocked looking trio.

  Crazy Diamond pulled Rachel in tight by her side. She clamped her hands on the little girl’s shoulders and scowled at the treacherous captors who surrounded them.

  “You bastards,” Cody said. “How could you?”

  Layla came forward, pushing the barrel of her rifle into Cody’s chest. At the same time, Harry took his gun off Cody’s head and took a backwards step.

  “Careful what you say stutter kid,” Layla said. “I’d gladly shoot you right here, right now. And by the way MacLeod, your movies suck big time. You’re a shitty actor.”

  “Back off Layla,” the man in the silver suit said. He looked at the fiery young woman with an unflinching stare. His tone was flat, almost uninterested.

  Layla looked at the suit, unable to contain the hatred in her eyes. To Cody, it seemed like she hated everyone with the exception of her father. She probably hated him sometimes. With a sharp snort, she turned around and nodded to the other soldiers. The armed men and women of the Resistance hurried over and formed a tight circle around Cody and Nick. A moment later, Crazy Diamond, Rachel and Richards were led over and pushed into the circle.

  “I mean it,” Harry said, standing outside the circle. He’d lit up a cigarette and was talking through a cloud of smoke. “Nothing personal.”

  Cody glared at the emaciated-looking man. “It was all bullshit wasn’t it Harry?” he said. “Everything you said back at the Alamo – a crock of shit.”

  Harry shook his head. “Not all of it.”

  “What about Dani’s story?” Cody said. “What about the Black Storm?”

  “Dani’s story was bullshit,” Harry said. “She’s never scavenged anything in her life. But what I said about the Black Storm – that was true. You’ll find that out for yourself soon enough.”

  Cody was disgusted with himself at falling for their tricks. They’d walked into the lion’s den, thinking it was a refuge.

  “And to think you brought us to the Alamo,” he said. “Of all the places in San Antonio you took us there. For God’s sake, I should have seen right through yo
u. How’d you ever keep a straight face?”

  “Drop your weapons,” the handsome man said. “There’s not going to be any gunfight here today.”

  Cody cursed quietly to himself as he laid the Glock on the ground. Nick gave up his rifle and with a glint of defiance in his eyes, took out the Beretta he’d tucked in at the waist and set it down on the road.

  They were thoroughly searched for other weapons. Crazy Diamond, Rachel and Richards were patted down too.

  When it was done, the leader of the suits took a step closer to the captives.

  “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you,” he said.

  The other suits stood at the man’s back like a pack of scarecrows, basking in the glow of the van headlights. Not one had moved or spoken since stepping outside the van.

  “Who are you?” Cody said.

  “That’s not important,” the man said. “But you can call me Mackenzie if it helps.”

  “Mackenzie?” Nick said, nodding slowly. “Is that your first or last name? I like to know these things.”

  Mackenzie smiled, but said nothing. The man oozed a slimy calmness that was unnerving.

  “What’s going on?” Crazy Diamond said. “The signal, the Resistance, you guys – it’s all connected isn’t it?”

  “You have a lot of questions,” Mackenzie said. “Well the good news is I have the answers you’re looking for. Me, and only me. I’m your best friend in the world right now. I can plug a lot of those holes in your mind.”

  Mackenzie tilted his head back and inhaled the cool air. For a second, it looked like he’d fallen asleep standing up.

  “Didn’t it all seem a trifle too convenient?” he said, opening his eyes again. There was a trace of disdain in his voice. Maybe it was pity. “You woke up on the plane, you saw a signal. The signal brought you to the city. The Resistance found you on the highway. They took you in and offered you answers about the Black Storm and most important of all – maybe they could protect Rachel.”

  “Fuck you,” Cody said. He stood in between the man’s cold eyes and his daughter. They’d have to go past him – they’d have to go through him. The objective hadn’t changed since leaving Spring Branch – he was going to keep Rachel alive. Cody would protect her at any cost.

  “It’s like I told you,” Harry said, looking at the captives. “Not everything we said was bullshit. They really are looking for a girl.”

  Richards took a step closer to the edge of the circle. When he spoke it was clear that he was still out of breath after the run from the Alamo.

  “My wife died after getting off that plane,” he said, looking at Mackenzie. “What do you know about it?”

  “I know everything about it,” Mackenzie said.

  Richards’ voice cracked with emotion. Both hands were curled into tightly clenched fists. “Tell me what you…”

  “Later,” Mackenzie said, cutting in. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Now,” Richards hissed.

  Crazy Diamond put a hand on Richards’ shoulder. At the same time, she looked at Harry and shook her head.

  “So there never was a Resistance in San Antonio?” she said. “You just rolled over and died, is that right?”

  “Of course there was a Resistance,” Harry said. His face turned red with anger. With a hand over his mouth, he hacked up a vicious cough and wiped something dark off his bottom lip.

  “We fought our damnedest to stay alive,” Harry said. “But back then we didn’t know what we were fighting. Sooner or later young lady you realize that some fights you just can’t win.”

  Harry turned to Mackenzie. There was a nervous look on his face.

  “Alright Mackenzie,” he said. “We’ve kept our end of the deal. Now give me back my wife. Give Layla her mother back for Christ’s sake.”

  Harry looked over at the five vans.

  “Where is she?” he said. “Where’s Francine? Is she in the van?”

  Mackenzie bowed his head. “Thank you Harry,” he said in a cool voice. “You did a great job.”

  “Give me back my wife,” Harry said. “Please.”

  Mackenzie nodded. “Of course.”

  Harry’s face lit up.

  “There’s just one problem,” Mackenzie said.

  “What?”

  “The captives get so bored,” Mackenzie said. “It was the same with Francine. So we played a game with your wife to pass the time. You know what I mean don’t you?”

  Harry’s face turned white. He staggered backwards. His eyes were bulging while his mouth slowly twisted into a macabre, disbelieving grin.

  “No,” he said. “Please, no.”

  Layla grabbed a hold of her father just in time, barely managing to keep him upright.

  “You bastard!” she yelled to Mackenzie. Her eyes flashed with anger. “You killed her didn’t you? You killed my Mom.”

  But Mackenzie didn’t seem to be listening anymore. He’d closed his eyes, bowed his head and taken a backwards step. It looked like he was praying on his feet.

  “You killed her!” Layla said, screwing up her face in rage. “We did exactly what you said and you killed her anyway.” She clung to her father and they swayed together, like two limp stalks in a wheat field.

  Mackenzie tapped a finger off his temple. It looked like he was turning on a button in in his head. His shoulders were taut and raised. His face was solemn.

  A moment later, he opened his eyes. He looked at Harry with a sober expression.

  “Forgive me Harry,” he said.

  Layla let go of her father and marched forwards. Her rifle was pointing directly at Mackenzie’s head.

  “What the fuck…?”

  She was interrupted by a burst of sudden noise. Everyone in the Resistance slammed their hands against their ears at once. The noise came from everywhere. It was a high-pitched, slow shredding sound – as if the dark sky was being torn in two like a giant sheet of paper.

  Cody’s heart was pounding. He looked around, staggering backwards. He grabbed Rachel, scooping her up off the ground as if a stream of hot lava was gushing towards her. He buried her head in his chest and tried to cover her ears.

  “Nick,” he yelled over the terrible noise. “Crazy Diamond. Richards. Stay close to each other!”

  The five survivors bunched tightly together.

  The Sliders sprouted out of the ground like demonic flowers. The shredding noise of their entrance was now intermingled in a chilling unison with the childlike screams of the Resistance. There were about twenty Sliders surrounding Harry and his companions. The phantoms were tall and lifeless – humanoid statues built of black mist that shone like marble. No features, just an empty form.

  The Sliders took the bodies of the Resistance soldiers.

  “Don’t look!” Nick said. “Everyone cover your eyes.”

  Cody buried his face in Rachel’s hair. But before he did that, he saw a massive Slider pierce straight through Harry’s gaunt frame. The Resistance leader barely had time for one last scream. Cody thought he heard a name in that mangled shriek – Francine. Harry’s hands grasped outwards, reaching for something that wasn’t there. Blackness seeped into his eyes. He dropped to his knees and convulsed violently on the road. The last thing Cody saw was Harry slamming his head off the road.

  Cody shut his eyes. It sounded like he was standing blindfolded in the corridors of Hell. There were screams on all sides. Hard thudding noises, fast crawling sounds and the frantic scraping of fingernails against the road.

  He clung onto Rachel with all his strength.

  It was a long time before absolute silence fell over the city. When it did, Cody opened his eyes and gasped at the pile of mangled bodies sprawled at his feet.

  The Sliders were gone.

  His stomach lurched as he caught a whiff of that musty metallic odor he’d smelled at the airport.

  “God,” he said. Surely this time he would be sick.

  Mackenzie walked over – as close as he could get without stepp
ing in the numerous puddles of blood forming on the road. Cody thought he saw a hint of anguish in the man’s eyes – regret perhaps.

  “Put the bodies in the river,” Mackenzie said, turning to his companions. “Quickly.”

  The suits leapt into action, hurrying over to pick up the bloody corpses of the San Antonio Resistance. They dragged the dead away one by one, and threw them into the back of the silver van like they were trash bags.

  Harry was one of the last to be moved.

  To Cody’s surprise, Mackenzie saluted the old man. It was a clinical gesture – palm facing forwards, fingers almost touching the head – there was something effortless and authentic about it.

  “Nothing personal Harry,” Mackenzie said.

  Chapter Nine

  Cody and the others were led into the back of one of the vans.

  Fortunately it wasn’t the same van that contained the fresh, blood-soaked corpses of the San Antonio Resistance soldiers. That van was already on its way to the river.

  A pale light trickled down from the roof of the van. Cody sat on the floor next to a silent Rachel.

  Exhaustion and shock were intermingled in the eyes of everyone.

  It was only a five-minute journey from the mall to their destination. When the back door opened, they were dragged out of the van. Cody was slow to rise as one of the suits tugged at his arms. His body was numb with fatigue but he struggled back to his feet and took Rachel’s hand. They hurried outside and a cool breeze welcomed them with a caress. Cody looked around and saw that the convoy of Sprinter vans had pulled up outside a gloomy six-story building, a towering black shadow that looked untouched, unlike so many other buildings.

  Cody saw a sign on the lower floor exterior:

  Public Safety Headquarters

  City of San Antonio

  The five prisoners were taken to a large office on the sixth floor. The office space had been rearranged into an interrogation room. Several small tables had been pushed together in the center of the room to make one big table.