New Title 15

by Douglas, P. A.

  Loaded down as they were with items made their escape more difficult. Kyle sprinted away carrying the box of garbage bags under one arm like a football. The sound of his bare feet slapped against the tile beneath like clapping hands. A few paces in front, Ben slowed to a stop. The nerdy looking man peeked around the aisle for good measure. With a bundle of masks in hand, he looked back to give the signal. The coast was clear.

  The double doors to the produce area were a no go. Deciding not to attempt climbing over the mess in the back, Ben and Kyle headed for the deli counter instead. The deli was only four aisles away. They were going to make it.

  “Come on!” Ben shouted.

  Running toward the deli, Ben tossed the packs of masks and tape over the counter. Kyle was right behind him with the box of trash bags and gloves.

  The man who had been outside putting groceries in the car when the clouds came, suddenly emerged from one of the aisles. The green hoodie he had been wearing over his head was sucked down to the scalp. The fabric was embedded in the man’s cheeks and forehead like melted wax. Just like the rest, his eyes were also missing. The man’s body temperature had risen so rapidly that the eyes had burst from their sockets, turning into a liquid mess. The sleeves of his jacket were stuck to his skin and no longer green. It was soaked black from blood and bursting blisters. He lifted his arms toward Kyle and Ben and wailed a guttural cry. A trail of bloody mucous followed behind the man’s steps on the floor as he hurried in anticipation. He opened his mouth to snarl, but his lips had been glued together by what little skin remained. The tissue tore apart as his mouth opened wide. Drool and blood poured from his blistered lips. The cankerous hole that had been his nose ran red with infectious seepage.

  “We’ve got company!” Ben’s voice wavered.

  “Forget him!” Kyle shouted.

  Tossing the box of bags over the deli counter, Kyle climbed headfirst over to the other side. Ben didn’t argue. Following Kyle’s lead, he tossed his metal rod over and followed.

  Just as Ben started to clear the top of the counter, the creature reached out, taking hold of the heel of his shoe. After yelling a startled cry, he kicked back hard, hitting the man in the face. The sound of gore squished upon impact. Staggering back a step the man let go. Ben didn’t even turn to look. He didn’t have to. The expression on Kyle’s face was enough.

  As Ben stepped down from the counter, Kyle lunged forward with his steel rod. The creature had reached the counter. With one forceful shove, Kyle sent the pipe into its face. The steel slit through with ease. Creating a pop as the rod easily exited the back of the skull. Blood gushed from the creature’s wound onto the counter and it instantly went limp.

  With the rod still in hand, Kyle pushed it away to slump to the floor never to get up again. Kyle’s stomach curdled making him feel uneasy. Stepping back, he placed both hands on his knees trying to breathe.

  Kyle vomited, and puke was splashed across the deli prep area.

  “Did you get any blood on you?” Ben said in panic.

  Wiping his lips, Kyle said, “No… no, I don’t think so.”

  Ben gave him a once over. “You look fine. Besides, I think that if you did get some of it on you we would both know about it.”

  “Tell me about it,” Kyle said, both hands still resting on his knees.

  Kyle looked out at the sales floor. Others still moved about out of view and heading toward them. He picked up the box of bags and duct tape, and nodded at the masks and gloves.

  “Let’s get back there and check on the others. I want to get these dumb suits made up and get the hell out of here!”

  Ben sighed trying to force a smile, but it didn’t surface.

  * * *

  Everyone prepared for the worst. Gripping the door handle, Kyle swallowed hard, and led them onto the loading docks.

  If the jimmy-rigged suits weren’t going to work, Ben suggested that they find out right away. Kyle and the rest agreed. Each person wore large oversized butcher’s coats and rubber cleaning gloves. Using the duct tape, they had created a seal between the gloves and the sleeves on the coats. Ben had seen it done on CSI and Unsolved Mysteries. With the painter’s masks on tight that Ben had suggested to keep breathing at a minimal if possible. There was no telling how well the masks would actually filter the chemicals in the air. It was also impossible to tell if any were still present. However, they weren’t taking any risks. It took a lot of trial and error and more than half the roll of tape, but it came together. The trash bags went over the head and a spot was cut out where the painter’s masks were taped over. The only skin left exposed to the air was their eyes. There was no way to know how well it would work. In fact, it looked rather comical. Despite the bags over their heads, wind could still get in through the eyeholes. Z had pointed this out, arguing that it was pointless. Ben insisted that the bags weren’t to keep the air out, but to keep the gore off. If they were to find themselves in a confrontation, he wanted to be ready.

  Having given up his bailer rod at the deli, Kyle now armed himself with a thin plank of wood from the broken pallet. It would do until he found a better weapon. A part of him wanted to check the grocery store’s main office for a handgun, but it was too close to the front door. There was no telling how many more of those hideous things were still in the store.

  Surprisingly, the only person who had a set of car keys was Sarah. Being as nice about it as he could, Kyle still came across as a jerk. He had suggested that her car was way too unreliable. Sure, it was a good to and from work kind of car, but it was falling apart. There was no telling how far they would have to travel before finding help. Sarah took it well, admitting her truck was a rust bucket. She had heard it called that by many people in the checkout line. Kyle had told her that on several occasions. Z and Becca were without vehicles. Both lived about ten blocks away and they had ridden their bicycles to the store.

  What kind of a wannabe thug carries a loaded gun on a bike? Kyle had thought. He made a note to laugh about it later with Ben. Maybe the lanky geek would appreciate the irony.

  That left them with Ben’s car, but that also presented an entirely new set of problems. Considering it was a 1998 model, the car was in great shape. The issue was its size. If they managed to load the car down with supplies, it would be hell fitting five people into his compact Honda Civic.

  It would have to do. They hadn’t decided where they would go. All they knew was it was important to get out of the current area and see what the hell was going on.

  “Alright…” Kyle’s voice was muffled under the painter’s mask. “I lead. Z, you are right behind me. Ben will follow up at the rear. Everybody got that?”

  They all nodded; eyes wide with fear and anticipation.

  “And for God’s sake… please keep up.”

  Sarah had made the loading dock seem much larger. It was only been one little elevated platform that the trucks could back up to. Dumpsters lined each side of the platform full to the brim. The stench of rotting vegetables and garbage filled the air. Stepping down from the four-foot platform, Kyle looked at his bare feet. He hadn’t even thought about it, and now it was too late to do anything about it. His skin was exposed. He reached up and helped the girls climb down.

  The lot before them was empty. Ahead were piles of bailed cardboard and empty pallets. Past that, the parking lot’s back alley ended, giving way to a fence line. The fence separated the wooded area from the store’s property line. The alley went left and right.

  Leading them left into the darkness, Kyle headed toward the main street toward his apartment only a few blocks away. He had never actually been to Ben’s place, but he knew the room number. Ben needed his keys, so the apartment complex was the destination.

  Kyle welcomed the detour. Spending time with Sarah made him self-conscious about his appearance. If nothing else, he needed to get some shoes and a decent change of clothing.

  The street was quiet at the end of the alley.

  The sound of beat
ing footsteps skidded to a stop, as Z and the others, caught up to him.

  “What’s the hold up, yo?”

  “Shhh…” Kyle’s finger went up.

  Kyle Turner had lived on this block for a few years or more and in his time had seen a few bad things go down. Old ladies getting their purses snatched up. One drive-by shooting. Child abduction. Well, he had never actually seen the child be taken away by some strange figure. No one had. The kid just ended up missing. Most people had simply brushed the incident off as a runaway. Lots of teenage kids ran away from home around here. Either their parents were drunks, drug users, or just losers in general. There was even that fire incident across the street from the apartment complex. One of the so-called gang members in the area set someone’s house on fire to prove loyalties. No one was injured, but a lot of the property burned to the ground. A few of the homeowner’s pets hadn’t made it out alive.

  He had seen a lot on this street, but this was something new. Something much worse.

  “Oh my, God,” Sarah gasped.

  “Keep your voice down,” Kyle insisted.

  “There’s so many of them…” Ben said at a low whisper.

  Becca started to hyperventilate, wheezing for breath in panic. The short Hispanic woman was starting to lose her cool.

  “Z… keep her quiet!” Kyle adjusted his facemask realizing he had spoken too loud.

  Trying to comfort her, Z pulled Becca into his arms. Her weeping breaths dulled with her face buried in Z’s chest. Z’s eyes were wide with fear. Despite that, Kyle’s first impression of the thug had been a bad one, he was glad to see the fear was there. It told Kyle that this guy wasn’t cold hearted. Most gang members were. Kyle wondered what his real story was.

  The sound of plastic on his head rustled in his ears. Although he knew the plastic’s noise only seemed loud, with it strapped to his head, it still made him uneasy. He swallowed hard and looked down the street again. Luckily, the noise hadn’t attracted and attention.

  Calm down, man. The trash bag was just louder in your head than out here for real, Kyle assured himself.

  Although the night was thick with darkness, in more way that one, Kyle was thankful the power was still on. The streetlights illuminated the streets, pushing the gloom away.

  He recognized most of the people lingering in the street. Well, at least the recognizable parts. Almost everyone that had been standing in the streets when he and Ben went to the grocery store was still out in the open. Only now, they had changed. That goofy looking white guy with the sideways hat shuffled around aimless and lost. The only part of him Kyle could make out was the hat. The rest of him was peeled to the muscle like a skinned deer. They were all like that. Dead…ish. There were more than thirty out there. Most stood around as if lost. Others walked around as if in an aimless search.

  “What are they doing?” Sarah asked.

  No one responded.

  Kyle may not have been as bright as Ben, but he knew one thing. He sure as hell didn’t want to draw any attention from the walking mucus monsters on the street. It would be detrimental to their health, to say the least.

  Kyle kept looking. For what, he wasn’t sure.

  That same car was parked in the middle of the street right in front of the apartments. Loud bass thumps from an unfamiliar rap song reached Kyle’s ears from the few blocks down. He thought of Ben’s sound wave rant. The brain and all of its functional parts was a pretty cool thing. If anything, at least the noise from that car would cover their tracks.

  Sarah placed her hand on the small of Kyle’s back. Still focused on the street ahead, he jumped. His heart skipping a beat as his stomach twisted tight.

  “Sorry.”

  He nodded with wide eyes.

  “What’s the hold up?” She whispered.

  “Way too crowded out there.”

  Kyle grabbed her by the hand, pulling her, and the others away from the street corner. He looked back the way they had come, paranoia was setting in. Thankfully, none had followed from the store. The coast was clear in that direction.

  “Ok, so that we are all on the same page. Everyone agrees that the whole situation is totally fucked up, right?”

  Kyle witnessed a bunch of nodding heads.

  “What the hell’s we gonna do, dawg? How are we gonna get to my boy’s car with all them dead peeps chillin’ in the street, yo? You know what I’m sayin’.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re saying.” Kyle rolled his eyes at Z. “Ben… what the hell are you thinking in this situation? You generally have some science crap bouncing around up there. Don’t you?”

  Kyle suddenly realized he was still holding Sarah’s hand. His palm was sweaty, and his grip was tight.

  “Oh, my bad.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, as he let go.

  She flexed her fingers. His grip had clearly been too much for her petite little fingers.

  “I don’t know,” Ben interrupted. “Just because I read a lot of stuff like Time, Pop science and National Geographic, it doesn’t make me an expert in CIA spy stealth and junk. Sure, ask me about the inner workings of the freaking greenhouse effect, or how a rainbow actually happens, and I got you covered. Don’t expect me to get us out of a pickle like we’re just in some kind of kids Disney movie. The ability to retain useless information is not a fix all, Kyle!”

  “Sorry, man. Just figured you might have some suggestions. We obviously can’t just stroll down the middle of the street, now can we?”

  “Would you two quick bickering and make up?” Sarah said. “We don’t have time for a marital tiff.”

  “A what?”

  “Nothing.” She looked down the street. “Let’s just come up with something already. I don’t want to still be standing here when the sun comes up.”

  “Yeah, yo!”

  “I just want to go home,” Becca cried, still in Z’s arms.

  This was why Kyle Turner never left the house, choosing television for companionship and keeping to himself. People were just a bunch of idiots. Instead of coming together to solve a problem, they just bickered with one another. Somehow, in the end, it all came back to Kyle. Kyle, fix this. Kyle, fix that. Right then, he just wanted to get back to his apartment undetected and shut himself off from everyone. These people were annoying as hell. He wasn’t expecting one person to have the answers. He was just hoping that between them all, a plan would emerge. This new guy, Z, was just a wannabe bad ass. At the end of the day, he had probably never killed a fly, and here he was with his braided hair and raindrop tattoos. Hell, Kyle could be wrong, but he doubted it. And Becca, she was a real piece of work. Probably never worked a day in her life. He already had Ben figured out. He was just a homo and hadn’t figured it out yet.

  As for Sarah, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was sure he had her figured out, too. Silent type that always went for the wrong guy. Always putting up with the abuse. The neglect. Hell, she probably worked that crappy cashier’s job to support her slob of a boyfriend.

  “What the hell’s your problem, dawg?” Z stepped toward Kyle.

  “Sorry, man. My mind just kind of trailed off. We’re cool. I promise.” Kyle hadn’t realized he had been glaring at them.

  “Just checkin’, punk.”

  Kyle smirked.

  “What now? You tryin’ to be smart, yo? Don’t make me cap your ass! You know what I’m sayin’.”

  “Nothing.” Kyle put his hands in the air, still quietly laughing.

  “Yo, I think home boy here is starting to lose his shit.”

  “What the hell is your problem, Kyle?” The plastic rattled on Ben’s face, causing him to adjust his glasses.

  “My apologies,” Kyle said, finally settling down. “I just had a thought. That’s all.”

  “Well, are you going to share it with the class?” Sarah scoffed.

  Looking at everyone crowded together at the edge of the street corner, Kyle couldn’t help but laugh. Their little makeshift Hazmat suits were
ridiculous.

  “Maybe later,” he said, trying to play off the fact that he was fed up with all of them.

  They had been standing on the street corner for close to five minutes now and had come up with nothing. Kyle looked around the area hoping to spark up an idea. Anything to divert those things away from the street. There was no way they would make it to Ben’s place with that many of them out there.

  “We need some kind of a diversion… Something to lure those freaks off the street, so that we have a clear shot to the apartment. I am totally open to suggestions,” Kyle said, wiping his sweaty palms on the butcher’s coat. “You were the one talking about sound waves earlier, Ben. Think something like that could work?”

  “I honestly don’t think so,” Ben said.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Well, sure that type of thing might work on zombies. They used sound as a distracter in a lot of movies, but these things aren’t zombies. They’re something else entirely. They’re like acidic walking liquid, ready to burst open all over the next person who walks by.”

  “That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work.”

  “Look, I give you props for throwing out that idea, but it’s a no go.” Ben’s weight shifted. “Whatever it is that is melting people’s flesh like that, chemicals or something in the air, it’s causing a fever. The victims are most likely melting to a pulp because of a fever. They’re getting so freaking hot that it’s burning them the hell up from the inside out.”

  “So what… what the hell does that have to do with distracting the damn things?”

  “When we get sick and catch fever, we generally know it’s serious when the temperature reaches above one hundred and three. This is common knowledge, okay. If someone has a fever higher than that for a prolonged period, hearing loss occurs. In some cases, it doesn’t come back at all. The way the skin is peeling off these people, and the blisters and sores forming all over their bodies, tells me they’re freaking cooking. I wouldn’t doubt it if these walking piles of flesh are heating up over two hundred degrees.”

  “So… What’s that got to do with it, yo?”