Transformation

  He kicked back for the evening, got drunk and high on pills.

  Ben must have puked in his sleep because he woke up next to a big pile of it. He grabbed a lot of what he came to get and filled the nearest car with it. He pulled out of the neighborhood all stocked up.

  Ben pulled up to one of the two giant terminals at the San Jose International Airport. At the A terminal, he entered sliding doors that easily opened with a push. He wondered where all the people were living and dead. The entire city felt oddly empty since he drove into the southern end of it. The airport was a ghost town. All the doors that were shut opened so easily he wondered if this wasn’t a trap.

  Ben smelled the slight odor of mold in the building. The air was surprisingly warm and stuffy and the deeper he went into the airport, the more stuffy the air became. It had reached an oppressive level by the time he was at security. He walked through the metal detectors and x-ray machines in near darkness, stopping to listen and watch the shadows. He was confused as to how the building stayed so intact and devoid of people. He couldn’t imagine where anybody might be living at the airport, as the guy Cooper said they were. But it was a big place so he kept walking.

  When he hit the gates the long stretch of floor to ceiling windows bathed the place in sunlight, but the air was by contrast at its most oppressive. He felt as if he had a hot wet towel over his head. He was soaked in sweat within minutes.

  Ben hit the end of one concourse and stopped to look and saw nothing whatsoever. Almost an hour later, Ben had walked through all the gates, poked his head in a few doors as he munched on crap and swilled down bottles of whatever he could find at the kiosks. He also stopped and pissed all over every twenty minutes. But still there was no sign of people in any condition.

  Ben walked out into a day that was sunny and bright naked as the day he was born. He was dripping with sweat from head to toe and the breeze chilled him. He held a set of dry clothes from one of the many gift shops inside and as soon as he was dry enough he put them on. By the time the sun was low in the sky, Ben was standing on the top level of short term parking looking over the area before it was dark.

  From the top of the garage he could see the tower, the runways, and lots of open space. He saw the highways running all around the area. There were a few abandoned vehicles about but nothing of note. The world was getting gray as the sun dropped and the shadows grew. Ben didn’t want to go back into the stuffy terminal. In the end, when the sun was almost gone, and he could barely see shit, he decided he could probably find a place inside to chill that had an open window. Just as the sun was about to slide to the other side of the planet he thought he saw something. People? There were people walking on the highway. Finally, something interesting, but no way he could get to them now. But if there were some people, there would be more.

  A row of chairs was the best Ben could do for a bed. As the world outside cooled, so did the inside of the terminal but it was still stuffy and smelled like ass. He got drunk and high but still sleep eluded him. He dragged his ass along in the darkness, sliding his hand along the walls and got himself outside for some air. He stood in the dark, swaying on his feet and feeling vulnerable. He debated heading back inside to look for a better place to chill but knew there was nothing. He started walking back to the car past the pitch black terminal windows. He really hated the creepy fucking place.

  In the deep black of the plate glass windows, a flicker of light caught his eye. As he watched, he saw the slight flash again. It moved in a low arc as if it was being carried by someone. Ben’s first thought was it was the guy he was hunting, Cooper. He walked quickly back to the nearest door so he could come up behind whoever it was. He moved silently on the thin carpet as he gained on the figure ahead of him.

  Barely visible it moved on and Ben followed as closely as he dared. The figure never looked back, or from side to side from what he could tell. Suddenly it was gone. Ben slid up to the spot where he last saw it and listened carefully. There was a faint clink as if something tapped a metal handrail. He looked for the source of the sound and above him he saw the moon through the skylights. The moon cast a faint glow on a figure moving along the second level. It looked like a woman. Ben was highly motivated and climbed up to the walkway.

  By the time he finished his climb, the woman was gone. But there weren’t many places to go and Ben quickly found an open door ahead. He peeked into the dark room. The windows on the far wall let in the light of the bright moon and he could clearly see that the room was empty. Where’s the bitch? He thought.

  And just as it occurred to him that he may have walked into a trap, something hard pressed to the back of his head. It was surely a gun barrel.

  “Don’t you move,” a stern female voice commanded.

  “Not a problem sweetie,” Ben said with a smile. He liked dealing with women.

  “The name’s Ben. What’s yours?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Nice name,” he said. “You like to get high?”

  46.

  Cooper and Rachael moved slower the farther down they went on the cement stairs and into the darkness. As the overpass and buildings blocked what little light came from the night sky, they were soon unable to see anything. The streets of San Jose stretched before them, absolutely empty and silent but overflowing with the potential for great pain and death.

  They walked along slowly, no longer groping with arms outstretched and searching for invisible bodies. As they left the night shadow of the overpass, they were able to see a little better and move a little faster. It took an hour for them to make it all the way to the street Cooper first walked on the day he came to the airport parking lot. The sign denoting it as the control tower was unreadable in the dark. But as he and Rachael stood, listening to their surroundings, a cloud moved past the moon and the sign became only slightly more visible.

  Cooper remembered that day he came upon this spot only weeks ago, the poor soul shambling along, the residents of the garage reaching out to him, the perfect sunny and pleasant day it had been. Now he was in the darkness on the edge of a field of dried corpses. He walked forward with Rachael at his side.

  She was good at staying close without being underfoot and Cooper noticed that she seemed alert and observant. More than a few times, she pointed out things he’d missed. They entered the end of the massive parking lot and headed towards the garage.

  As they drew closer, he wanted to stop, turn around and run. He was preoccupied with the dream of he and Rachael heading back to meet Ellen and stay in the secluded, self-sufficient mansion in the hills. He had to ask himself why he was walking through hell right now? Why not just turn and walk away? But he knew that whatever he ran from now would only catch up to him later and be ten times the problem.

  They walked along trying not to drag their feet too much as each step they took stirred up a little cloud of dust. As Cooper trudged along he became a little less vigilant. It was Rachael who stopped when she looked back. Her eyes went wide.

  “Are you seeing that?” she whispered and pointed.

  Cooper looked back and saw hundreds of footprints appearing in the dust all heading straight to the structure. Completely silent and invisible creatures kicked up billowing clouds of the fine powder. They formed a wall behind he and Rachael which prevented the option of retreat. He thought he was scared before but now, he was terrified as he watched the footsteps of an army of invisible creatures approaching he and Rachael. It seemed they were all heading to the garage as well.

  “Should we run?” Rachael asked.

  “Let’s jog. I want to stay ahead of these things. Not to mention that corpse dust.”

  She went into a quick jog. The terrible thought of breathing in powdered corpse driving her forward despite her weariness.

  Cooper walked quickly alongside her, his longer legs propelling him farther and faster than her shorter ones. He looked sideways and smiled at her jogging along, wishing he could help her in some way.

  It was o
dd how quickly he became used to walking through a massive field of corpses but the idea of breathing the dust only became more concerning to him as he got farther into the mass. He looked over the tens of thousands of dried bodies disintegrating into tons of fine powder and frowned. The cloud of dust kicked up by the creatures was growing exponentially as they moved through the bodies and the wind was shifting. The massive thick cloud started to drift towards him, obscuring the moon and blocking its light almost totally.

  Cooper felt a painful tickle deep in his chest that made him cough explosively and involuntarily. Before he had time to think, he’d automatically taken in another breath. The tickle grew stronger and he coughed again. He felt his eyes suddenly go gritty and he had trouble keeping them open. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth and turned to check on Rachael.

  Rachael was blowing her nose onto the ground. When she looked at Cooper her expression was pained. “Sorry” was all she managed to wheeze out. She pulled her shirt over her nose too.

  They continued forward trying to stay ahead of the dust. The invisible creatures didn’t change their pace and the two pulled away from them quickly, but the dust cloud was carried on the stiff wind over them. The corpse dust was caking in their eyes and working its way through their shirts and into their lungs. They tried to move faster but this only kicked up more dust around them. It was getting harder and harder to see and Cooper knew that the giant hole was somewhere in front of them.

  As the dust overcame them, they closed their eyes and moved forward blindly. Breathing in through their shirts was a near impossible effort as the fine dust caked and blocked the passage of air. To draw breath they had to take in some dust each time they inhaled which felt as if they were breathing in their own death.

  Cooper knew that very soon he was going to be completely unable to breathe and would fall in the dust to die, or he may fall into the deep hole. He could foresee no positive outcome and the slow jog he tried to maintain faltered and he slowed to a resigned walk as his extremities started to tingle from a lack of oxygen.

  47.

  After the kids moved on, Ron and Weed watched the city darken as the sun dropped. They were giving the kids plenty of time to clear the area. They were also hesitating to rush through all the corpses in a giant slow moving truck. Their plan was to get the truck as close to the structure as they could and walk or find a quiet vehicle and go from there.

  With a roar, Weed started the old truck and took it slowly down the off ramp and pointed it towards the airport. They were operating dark, no headlights or running lights. The going was slow and the noise of the truck made them deaf to anything around them.

  On the way to the structure, there was only one turn to take before a straightaway that ran a few miles. He eased through the turn to keep the load from falling off. That’s when he first noticed the tail. Back in the darkness, at least one car followed them. Soon they were where the runways came close to the streets.

  Ron had been staring into the darkness, thoroughly frustrated. He was so close to the structure and just wanted to be home. Here they were, creeping along and having delay after delay. He just wanted a shower, his wound properly cleaned, and food. God he was hungry. But he was also dreading the new world without his wife. Sal and Mary were gone. He didn’t know where Wendy was.

  Weed suddenly cut the wheel jarring Ron from his thoughts. He crashed the truck through the fence surrounding the runways. He aimed to flush out the tail, lose them, or confront them on the runways.

  Ron yelled, his tone serious panic.

  “Stop! Stop the truck!”

  Weed almost didn’t stop. But he thought better of it and applied the brakes. He looked at Ron, waiting for him to speak. Wondering what their tail was going to do now.

  “Highly secure places like this that are easily accessible by a vehicle are going to have more than that fence as security.

  “Really? Makes sense. But…”

  “Often there is a big trench covered with a roof that will only hold a certain amount of weight. It’ll collapse if a car drives over it.”

  “Thanks for the heads up, buddy,” Weed spoke as he shifted gears. “Now we gotta roll. Someone, I expect them asshole kids, has been following us since the highway.”

  Francis started to back the truck out fast. They only had about thirty feet to get back to the road but didn’t make it. A car tore through the hole in the fence behind the truck and drove in front of them. When it hit the area in front of the truck, ten feet past where Weed had stopped, the car dropped into the ground and came to an instant stop. It was stuck at an angle in a hidden concrete trench.

  Weed laughed. “Looks like you were right Ronnie.” He started to accelerate backwards but the truck hit something.

  “What the fuck?” Weed looked back. “Aw damn, more assholes.”

  Ron’s window shattered. Dawn had a gun to his head.

  “Get out of the car!” she yelled. Ron held his hands high.

  Gerald was at the other window holding a gun on Weed.

  “Walk . . . old man.” Gerald hesitated, as if he’d been coached and had a hard time remembering what to do.

  “Ron, I believe he’s talking to you,” Weed laughed as he held his hands up. Even Ron smiled at the crazy old man. He was oddly confident he would get them out of this.

  “Son, do you think I got this old being stupid?”

  “Shut up.” Gerald’s voice wavered as he spoke. He looked side to side nervously. The gun shook in his hand as he held it pointed at Weed’s face.

  “Well the answer is yes.” He belly laughed. “I’m so stupid I brought a knife to a gun fight.” Weed dropped his arms and pulled his knife. He flicked it open with one hand and the blade clicked as it locked into place. The metal gleamed faintly in the dark.

  “Drop it asshole! Drop it or I’ll kill you.” Dawn had her gun on Ron as she led him around the front of the truck. She demonstrated she could easily point it at Weed too then back to Ron.

  Ron was scared. What the hell was Francis doing?

  “You know what is even stupider than bringing a knife to a gunfight? Bringing a fucking toy gun to a knife fight.”

  Weed lunged at Gerald and managed to stick the point of his knife into the kids ample belly. The boy squealed and dropped his gun as he ran away. It shattered into a hundred pieces when Weed stepped on it as he chased after the screaming boy and into the darkness.

  Gerald tried to stop screaming but kept on running as fast as he could. He heard the old asshole behind him laughing. The man’s laugh scared him. He put his hand on his wound and felt thick hotness running over his fingers. He started to cry and stumble but his fear propelled him forward.

  Weed dashed off into the darkness, but not after Gerald. He went in the opposite direction. He yelled out.

  “Careful Ronnie she might squirt water in your eye!”

  Ron heard Francis guffawing out in the dark somewhere. He was left alone, standing in the dark. The fat kid and the girl were gone. He lowered his arms and was looking for Weed in the direction he last saw him when something hard pressed against the back of his head.

  “Now this is a real gun asshole.” Dawn had retrieved her shotgun from the cab of the truck. “Put your hands back up.”

  Ron complied.

  “Well here we are again.” Weed spoke as he emerged from the darkness. He had Hope in front of him, his arm around her throat.

  “We both know how this ended last time.” Dawn said with derision in her voice.

  Weed had his knife up so Dawn could see it.

  “Let her go,” she demanded.

  “As you wish.” Weed released Hope and gave her a little push. She fell forward and flat on her face, hitting the ground hard with an audible thud. She didn’t move a muscle.

  Click! Dawn pulled the trigger of the shotgun and nothing happened.

  Weed laughed. “It just gets better and better don’t it?”

  Dawn dropped the useless weapon and ran to
her sister and dropped to her knees.

  “Francis, what did you do?” Ron looked terrified at the old man.

  “No worries Ron. I found her that way. Looks like she broke her neck when the car went ass up in the ditch.”

  Weed walked back to the truck with Ron in Tow. He turned to Dawn before he got in.

  “Now I told you three to git and you didn’t listen. I suggest you steer clear from now on.”

  But Dawn was oblivious. She was on all fours and hugging her sister. She sobbed, stroked Hope’s hair, straightened the little plastic bow clipped in her hair, then patted her face and kissed her forehead. Dawn lay next to Hope, head on her shoulder, and sobbed into her sister’s stiffening body.

  Gerald was watching in the dark. He watched the truck back away and winced at the knife wound in his belly. It hurt and he was scared. Dawn killed Cullen and now they were all dying because he wasn’t with them. He wiped the tears off his cheeks, but they were replaced by new ones. He limped as he held the painful wound. He approached Dawn hesitantly. He didn’t like or trust her, but she was all he had right now. The world had gotten very dark and quiet when the truck left.

  “What do we do now?” he asked her softly.

  “I don’t know,” she wailed and hugged Hope’s corpse.

  “Cullen would know,” he said.

  She looked up at Gerald with a burning hate.

  “So this is my fault?”

  “Owie. Owie! Dawn it hurts!” He held his wound. It was a serious wound and it really did hurt.

  “If Cullen were here . . .”

  “You think I killed my sister?”

  Gerald whined. “No.”

  Dawn sobbed and hugged her sister again as she spoke.