“DOCTOR...” Lucas began.
Rosa scrambled down into the tunnel.
A second later, Lucas was behind her, dragging the metal plate back over the top.
Chapter 17
“Well,” Lucas said, “THAT didn't go as planned.”
The sewer was dim, but the bits of broken light leaking in from the gratings was enough to see that they weren't the first who had tried to escape underground.
It was also clear why there weren't that many bodies left out on the street – they had been dragged down here.
Actually, there weren't bodies, so much as bones – gnawed clean.
There was a rustle of movement. But it was no skittering rat – it was one of those little sickle-clawed scavengers.
Its lips were bloody as it screeched at them – and the sound was so much like a human scream.
Lucas took a shot at it, and its head disappeared in a splatter. As the body went spinning, Rosa saw several more scurry for the corners. Lucas took a moment to pot shot as many as he could before they disappeared down the tunnel.
“I HATE those little bastards,” he said.
He turned to the others. “Stick close,” he said. Popping out a small but surprisingly bright flashlight, he led the way down the tunnel.
They all fell into procession. Julie was hugging close in Lucas' footsteps – not even consciously – just gravitating where she felt safe. Jeremy had Jamie under one protective arm, and Allison and Bud likewise huddled close. Bob and Daryl dutifully brought up the rear.
Rosa, herself, walked alone. She still had Leroy's blood and brain matter on her hands.
Lucas seemed utterly unconcerned, as if it were long past.
Rosa wondered how many people he had killed – he was a soldier, after all.
She wondered at the fact that she still seemed willing to follow him, even though he'd just shot someone literally right out of her hands.
Although, she was at least willing to admit that, if he hadn't, she would very likely be dead now – maybe both of them.
In point of fact, she thought, glancing back to where Allison walked behind her, she was lucky not to be dead several times over – but for the actions of others, who she had actually put at risk.
She slowed down in step next to Allison.
Allison never met her eye. Rosa had instinctively disliked her from the beginning – trashy and knocked-up – but Allison had twice saved her life.
It was true her type was tough in a crisis – but Rosa also knew that no one ever becomes tough on-purpose.
She, herself, was currently feeling rather helpless and foolish.
Allison didn't look up at her. Rosa tried anyway.
“Thanks for what you did up there,” she said, and was rewarded with a quick furtive glance and an acknowledging nod.
Bud eyed Rosa warily – the protective guard dog, debating whether to tolerate a stranger. Clearly, she was encroaching.
“Some rough stuff happened to you,” Rosa said.
Allison's lips twitched in a very small, ironic smile. She didn't answer.
“I've seen a lot of that kind of thing,” Rosa ventured and now Allison sighed, looking over at her directly, perhaps for the first time.
“You know,” she said, “it occurs to me. I can have a secret again.”
Rosa blinked. “Pardon?”
Allison gestured around her. “All this.” She rooted in her pocket for her dead cell-phone. “It's all gone. No one can search my name and find out all about me.”
She shrugged. “See?” she said. “There's a good side to everything. Even the end of the world.”
Rosa wasn't sure if she was serious or not – at best a tasteless joke. Rosa had intended to express gratitude, but instead she felt that instinctive dislike bubbling up again.
That wasn't helped when Allison, as if she'd only been holding it down all along, turned and was noisily sick.
Her morning sickness had been getting worse, Rosa thought, and moved forward to help, but then she felt Bud's restraining hand on her shoulder. He called up to Lucas in the lead. “Hold up!”
Lucas paused, looking back.
“Take five people,” he said.
The group of them faded back, giving Allison a modicum of privacy.
“Doctor Holland,” Bud said quietly, “I know you mean well, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave her alone.”
“What happened to her?” Rosa asked.
“When you first saw her,” Bud asked, “what kind of things did you think might have happened to her?”
Rosa sighed. “All the usual, I guess.”
And boy was that cynical, she thought. She had to be careful what she tossed off as 'usual'. She was, after all, in a unique position to see ALL the human wreckage that other people missed. All the usual? Drugs? Domestic violence? Street violence? Gangs? Drugs again? Prostitution? Strip-bar, for sure.
Allison, Rosa thought, telling the truth to shame the Devil, just screamed ALL those things. You didn't get more counter-culture than your piercing and body-art crowd. Allison practically wore a uniform.
Rosa knew that story too – 'she-got-in-with-the-wrong-crowd'.
Of course, you had to be in the strip bar in the first place.
Rosa wondered if that was how Bud had met her.
Bud eyed her, as if anticipating her thought.
“I was a newspaper guy. Let's say I sort of stumbled into it.
“L.A.,” he said. “'City of Fallen Angels. See, there's a reason a darker element goes with all this counter-culture – it's always where you get the sleaziest sort of exploitation. Trafficking, slavery, drugs – and all the crime and corruption that goes with it.
“But once you're in,” he said, “that life doesn't let you go easy. Turns out some of the people she worked with were a little more serious than your average. You get a lot of people up too late on Crystal Meth, they get some funny ideas.”
“What did they do to her?” Rosa asked, bracing for ugliness.
“What did they do to her? Name it. All the sorts of things that go on when a human being is considered an exchange of capital. Let's just say, there's a reason she carries a gun.”
Bud glanced grimly over his shoulder, keeping his voice low.
“And part of it's my fault,” he said.
He frowned bitterly. “When you stumble onto something bad, you can have naive moments of self-righteous idealism.” He smiled cynically. “You might even think you can make a difference.
“It turned out, I was just letting a lot of really nasty people know someone was talking about them.”
Bud eyed Rosa directly. “She hasn't been safe ever since. That's why it's my job to look after her.”
In the corner, Allison's nausea seemed to have subsided, and she stood slowly, turning back to the group.
“Sorry,” she said.
Bud handed her a small bottle of water. “Keep your fluids up,” he said.
Lucas allowed them all another ten minutes before heaving himself back on his own broken foot. “Okay people, back to it.”
All the little tin-soldiers fell into formation. Bud took Allison by the arm as if to help her, but she deliberately pulled away, determined to walk on her own.
Rosa said nothing more to her. If there was a kindness to be done, she decided, it was to just let her be.
So instead, she caught up to where Lucas ambled through the ankle-deep sewage as if he were on a parade march – purposeful, a slight smile, squared shoulders – as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be.
He had Julie prancing next to him like a puppy, teasing her with casually flirtatious barbs.
“You aren't a stripper, are you?” he was asking. “A lot of nurses I know are strippers – like one out of three. One out of two for the ones that are hot enough.”
Rosa wondered if Lucas had overheard her talking to Bud.
Julie was blushing furiously, repressing a giggle, helplessly pleased.
It couldn't be just an act, Rosa thought. Just programmed?
She stepped up beside them, turning a stern, meaningful eye at Julie, who stopped in mid-titter and fell discreetly back out of ear-shot.
Lucas glanced at her, mildly. “Something on your mind, Doctor?”
“How do you do it?” Rosa asked.
“What's that, Doctor Holland?”
“How can you do what you do?”
He smiled. “It's a gift.”
“Killing that man was nothing to you.”
“Oh, it was something,” Lucas said. “It was the difference between you living and dying. He was torn to shit. Didn't have five minutes left in him. But you would've dragged him that full five minutes, wouldn't you?”
“But you kill people,” Rosa said. “You're a pilot. You kill people on a large scale. That's reality.”
Lucas considered. Then he did the most amazing thing – he shrugged.
“There's a disconnect,” he said. “When you're out there...” he nodded up to the sky, “... it's just a larger scale.”
He glanced down at her. “But the 'reality' is that the job has to be done. Someone has to do it. And not very many people can.
“Therefore,” he said, “I'm kind of obligated.”
Rosa absorbed this quietly. She had called it 'programming' – but now she found herself comparing it to the specific discipline it had taken her to earn her own doctorate. At least part of it was training yourself to be aloof among the very people you were sworn to help... or in his case, protect – or blow to bits.
Living from such a perspective, Rosa could see how a man might start looking at those people as 'statistics' – and how he might become impatient with all the petty, bleeding-heart sensibilities that he was forced to live outside – yet to be held to on a dime.
To his credit, he seemed to be honestly considering his answer. He consistently did not try to bullshit her, as he had all the rest.
Of course, she thought, archly, maybe that was how he was bullshitting her. She had to admit, he was smooth.
“You want to know what it's like?” he said. “I'll try to tell you. You are what you do. When you behave according to your training, you're a soldier – and you get soldier results.
“It's like you,” he said, “when you're cutting someone open, you disassociate. The open chest-cavity is just a workplace, and the scalpel is just a tool.”
Now he nodded, as if saying it out-loud for the first time.
“You know how I do it? I look at the world two ways. When I'm out there...”
He paused, instinctively reaching for his wallet, and the worn snapshot kept protectively within. He touched his pocket briefly, like a talisman.
“...and when I'm with her,” he finished.
He shrugged.
“That's it,” he said. “That's what grounds me. That's what I'm fighting for. Every time.”
Rosa glanced up, picturing the ruined city above their heads.
“Your wife,” she began doubtfully. “Is she..., I mean... where is she?”
“Well,” Lucas said, “we live up in the hills just north of the California border, up in Oregon. Or, I guess she does.”
He paused, and for the slightest moment, the cocksure smile faltered just a little bit. Just for a second, Rosa could see past the shield.
“I do worry sometimes,” he said. “I'm gone a lot. It's one thing to be gone a year – and then another year... but after about ten of those strung together...”
He stopped, hunting for the right words. “Well, I guess you kinda start to not know each other anymore. It's like remembering somebody they used to be.”
Lucas fell silent a moment.
“You know,” he said, “before all this, I was going to take some time off. Look at my options.” He smiled regretfully. “Maybe come home for a while. Or maybe for good.”
He sighed.
“But it seems like there's always one more thing to do.”
Rosa hesitated, but asked the question anyway. “What I meant was... well, have you heard from her?”
Lucas smiled confidently.
“Oh, she pulled through, alright,” he said. “She wouldn't have been near any of the epicenters. She'll be holed up, somewhere. And when she doesn't hear from me, she'll know where to meet up. We planned ALL this.”
He shook his head, tapping his watch again. “And like I told you, she's going to be pissed if I'm late.”
There was no doubt in his voice whatsoever – she was fine. All he had to do was get there.
No doubt in his mind.
He turned a furrowed eye down at Rosa. “What about you, Doctor Holland? You're easy on the eyes. Why haven't you got yourself a fella?”
“Well,” Rosa said, “I guess I'm not exactly Suzy-homemaker.”
'Hmm,” Lucas said, considering. “Funny. I actually had you pegged as a Stepford-wife.”
Rosa blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Cooking, cleaning, sexy lingerie. The trick with gals like you, is to make sure you think it's all your idea.” He grinned. “It worked on my wife.”
Rosa found herself struggling for a response.
“Boy,” he continued. “I shouldn't have told you that. Now, if you ever meet her, I'll have to shoot you.”
Rosa, with blood still splattered on her clothes, did not find that remark as flip as he probably meant it.
They had been walking for nearly an hour, and now Lucas stopped, listening.
Off in the distance, they could hear skittering – more of those little scavengers – probably following them.
Lucas started hunting around for the nearest access route back up to the street.
“There's probably a lot of those little bastards scurrying around,” he said. “I'm sure not going to sleep down here.”
He found a ladder and began to climb.
With a grunt, Lucas shoved the manhole at the top aside, popping his head up like a gopher, before climbing up onto the open street. Rosa could see him shoulder his rifle, scanning the area, before snapping his fingers, for everyone to follow.
Rosa was chagrined to find herself, along with all the others, responding like a troop of trained dogs. Programming, it seemed, worked even when you were aware of it – even in the short term. Rosa would never say Lieutenant Walker was not good at his job.
Neither did she make a fuss about keeping to his side, just like Julie, as he led them into the street
To Daryl and Bob, he each handed back one of the pistols he'd taken only a little over an hour before, along with clips.
“You're part of the group, now,” he told them. “If you fuck us, I'll kill you.”
“Yessir,” they said together, and dutifully took point on either side.
Lucas had also taken a moment to check on Allison.
“We might have a walk,” he said. “Are you up for it?”
Allison nodded.
Lucas eyed her. “Don't bullshit me to be tough. I need to know what's real. You're pregnant. That's draining. I need to know how far your legs are going to take you.”
“All the way,” Allison said – being tough.
Lucas glanced at Bud, who nodded. “We'll holler out if we need a break,” he said.
Jamie had been hovering under Jeremy's wing, but now Lucas stepped up to her directly.
“You ready, soldier?”
She smiled furtively, all wide-eyes and trembling lip.
Lucas produced a nine-millimeter and handed it to Jeremy – empty with a clip.
“Here,” he said, “show her how to use this.”
Rosa had to hand it to him – boot-camp in five-minutes or less.
They had come out of the sewers near the north bay – they would still have to make their way nearly across the entire city.
“Boy,” Lucas said, “you should have seen the rig I found back at the old spot. Four-by – eight-seater, air-conditioning, good CD collection – sure wish someone hadn't wande
red off and fucked that all up.”
Rosa breathed out steadily.
Okay, maybe she deserved that one.
Lucas led them first to the high-ground, finding a vantage point – another broken overpass – where he could take the lay of the land.
Motioning to keep low, he waved the others forward, to where they could all see.
On the not-far-off horizon, it seemed the giants had not gone after all.
Rosa recognized the giant Carcharodont from before – its stuporous, zombie-like daze was now joined by others – carnosaurs, ceratopsians, sauropods – they all seemed to be moving in a loose pack – a slow, lumbering gait that was taking them outside the city.
Like a flock, Rosa wondered? She'd heard dinosaurs were related to birds.
Of course, there was also that glowing in the eyes, and Rosa wondered instead if it was more likely simply another stage of the mental deterioration – indeed, the giant beasts almost seemed to sway.
She had seen a rabid dog once – it had been in the later stages of the disease – gasping, snarling, spitting, stumbling – barely able to walk.
These beasts were not yet there, but they were getting there.
This was the most dangerous stage – while they were still physically firing on all cylinders.
Yet, they didn't seem to be reacting to each other – and, in fact, seemed to be moving as one accord.
Lucas scanned the procession, focusing in on the big Carcharodont in the lead.
“Looks like they're leaving,” he said.
He zoomed in on the leader.
“And look who's catching a free ride,” he said, handing the binoculars to Rosa.
Rosa looked to where he was pointing and saw the big Carcharodont was packing a load of those little scavenger lizards – just as she had seen before – only a lot more of them this time. Apparently, when they ran out of human corpses, they ate bugs and maggots out of the skin of their still-living cousins.
She handed the binoculars back. “So,” she said, “what now?”
Lucas pulled out his hat and set it backwards on his head, turning back towards the others.
“We follow,” he said.
Chapter 18
Jonah had been drifting in and out of bleary semi-consciousness for a while now.
Age of Monsters Page 10