My head was throbbing so hard I couldn't think straight. I sat in the floor of the women's restroom, back leaning against the wall. Bits of broken tile spattered with my blood spread out across the floor. A policeman had his knee in Will's back, pinning him to the ground. As he cuffed him Will glowered at me, spitting blood onto the floor. He looked up at Tracy and called her a filthy name, to which she merely looked at another officer and said "See, that's what I've been dealing with." The officer nodded and jotted a few notes in a small spiral notebook. "She's crazy!" Will screamed as they lifted him to his feet. "They both are!" He looked at Tracy with burning hatred and said "After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me?" Tracy shook her head in pity. "I only hope he can get the help he needs." She said to the officer in mocked sadness. She glanced toward me and gave me a wink, sure that Will's aggressive behavior would support any story she wove.
Approaching me, she put her hand on my knee. "You okay?" She asked softly. "I really appreciate what you did today." I looked at her, skeptical that she was really back to her old self. "How much can you remember?" I asked, holding a wet paper towel full of ice to my swelling lip. Tracy smiled. "Everything. I remember everything. Whatever you gave me brought back every memory I had, including what Mr. Munn did to me." I looked at her quizzically, wiping some of the blood off my shirt. She lifted me to my feet and helped me limp out of the bathroom. Our co-workers surrounded the doorway, waiting anxiously for a glimpse of what happened. Several followed us mindlessly to my desk, where Tracy helped me into a chair.
"What happened in there?" Jeff asked anxiously. He studied the bruises and bumps on my face as though he'd never been exposed to real violence. I looked up at Tracy and did my best to relate the same story she gave the cop.
"I was filling up my water bottle when I heard a crash in the ladies room. I heard Tracy call for help and immediately rushed in." Tracy nodded and spoke up "Its really kind of embarrassing, but I slipped on some water and got stuck." I looked at the faces of the crowd. The men all sniggered, either wondering how she got stuck or picturing her slipping around like some cartoon character. The women, however, nodded with somber approval, like this was serious and they completely sympathized. I continued the story. "I was trying to help her up when Will came barging in. He demanded to know what was going on and before I could explain he started punching me." I made a few pretend punches toward my own face as Tracy continued. "He was always very jealous when we were dating and seeing us in the stall threw him into a fit." Dwayne looked at me like I was some kind of wimp and sniggered "He didn't look hurt Didn't throw a single punch eh?" He half snorted in mocking disapproval. I gestured toward Marcie. "HR policy says we shouldn't hit people at work." I winked a swollen eyelid at Marcie. "I was just doing my best to follow the rules." Marcie blushed a little bit and whispered something like "That's right, he's right" to the person next to her. "Anyway" tracy interrupted, "We need to get you to the doctor to be looked at. I'll drive you." Everyone else filed back to their desks, whispering things like "I bet Will goes to Jail" and "I always had a bad feeling about him."
As we walked through the parking lot I tried to guess which car belonged to Tracy. We passed small convertibles and big SUVs, saw everything from gas guzzlers to hybrids. None of them seemed to fit her. At the end of the row was a simple, unassuming light grey sedan. It had a sporty look without being flashy, and was made by a company known for reliability at an affordable price. Placing my hand on the handle I waited for the click of the automatic lock before pulling upward. The door swung open with ease and climbed into the comfortable passenger seat. The interior was clean and well maintained, floor vacuumed recently and no trash. The interior smelled clean, and sweet smell came from an air freshener shaped like a tree hanging from the rear view mirror. It was a bright yellow and had the words "Vanillaroma" printed on one side.
I reclined the seat slightly and leaned back. I was tired. I hadn't much sleep lately. Between the hospital visits, staying up at Mr. Munn's house, and wandering through the woods at Mr. Munn's house I barely had 10 hours of sleep the entire week. I relaxed as I listened to the soft hum of Tracy's car and fell into a deep sleep.
You know how it ends. Now read how it begins...
Chapter 26- Rebound
I returned to Mr. Munn's house to find the door wide open. Blood streaks on the walls and floor sent me into a panic. I followed them to the room where my mother was, but the bed was empty. Did Mr Munn kill her? The thought filled my heart with a mix of sadness, anger, and fear. "Mom!" I called out. "Mom, where are you?" I heard a sputter and a gurgle, like someone was drowning and choking at the same time. I rounded the bed to see a pair of shoes, worn by a body halfway under the bed. As I pulled on the legs I heard a panicked scrabbling. It was Mr. Munn, and only his eyes remained, the rest of his face torn and scratched off. His eyes were filled with horror and pain. "My mother-did she do this?" His eyes blinked once, like a nod.
I pulled out my phone to call 911 and his hand reached up and stopped me. He pointed at a picture on the wall. It was an old seascape, a ship navigating a reckless sea in the middle of a storm. I studied it for a moment and them looked back at him. He nodded and pointed again. I peered behind the frame and saw a hinge up the left side. I pulled on the edge, revealing a box set deep in the wall. On a shelf there was a slip of paper and a handgun. I picked them both up and brought them to Mr. Munn.
He handed the paper back to me and I unfolded it. On it was the VL logo and a few simple words:
Yellow= Erase
Green= Return
I looked at him with a quizzical look "The injections are not the cause of the infection?" I watched as he lifted the pistol to his own head, pressing it to his temple. His eyes filled with tears and I left the room as fast as I could. As I ran down the driveway I heard the pop of his handgun.
I walked rapidly to the closest bus station, eager to get to the office. Walking inside the door I was immediately approached by one of the Managers. "How is your mother?" he asked with pretended concern. I hung my head, doing my best to look depressed. He nodded in understanding. I knew that acting emotionally distraught would keep them off my back, giving me the time I needed to accomplish the tasks before me. "I just need to do a few quick things then I'm heading back to the hospital." I lied. He put his hand on my shoulder and said in his best voice "Well, if you need anything..." his lips pursed in pouty, false sympathy. I nodded in equally false appreciation and walked to my desk.
Sitting at my desk I glanced around carefully before opening the bottom drawer. I removed the yellow box I had stashed there and carefully opened the lid. Inside the silver case shone and I unhooked the latches quietly. Lifting the lid I looked at the syringe of green liquid. It was almost luminous. Removing the syringe from its fitted foam casing I placed it in my lap and pretended to type something on the computer. Glancing toward Tracy's desk with my peripheral vision, I could see her working on something, looking back and forth from her screen to something on her desk. I picked up the syringe and tucked it in my palm. I poked my head in her doorway. "Sorry I haven't gotten my reports to you this week." I interrupted. "I've had some things keeping me out of the office." She glanced at me only slightly, barely recognizing my apology. "I understand. Hope everything works out."
Back at my desk, I tried to think of ways to draw her out of her office. Without a personal relationship I had nothing, and our business relationship was clearly not enough to get some time alone with her. I considered enlisting the help of Dwayne or Jeff, but either posed problems. Suddenly I noticed Tracy stand up. I watched as she moved toward the marketing department. I glanced at my watch. It was almost lunch time. If she went to lunch with Will it would be almost impossible to get a moment alone with her. I walked to the water cooler and tried to listen in. "Where do you wanna go today?" I heard Will ask her. Tracy shrugged and mentioned a couple local eateries.
I saw Will grab his keys and Tracy hooked her arm in his as they began walking out together. As they passed by me I turned my head toward the wall as though I was reading a memo posted nearby. Glancing back at the couple I caught Will's eye. He was looking suspiciously at me. Before they got to he front door I heard Tracy say "Hang on, I need to run to the restroom." She turned and walked to the bathroom while Will stood by the front door looking at his watch.
The door of the women's bathroom closed behind me with a soft bang. My heart was racing. The stall doors were open except for the last one. I heard the soft whoosh of a toilet flush and barely had time to duck into a stall before Tracy came out. I watched her through the crack as she washed her hands and then applied some lipstick. She looked at herself in the mirror and picked at a flyaway strand of hair. She picked up her purse and was about to leave when I opened the door. "Tracy, wait..." I called out to her. She froze, staring at me in confusion. "What are you doing in here?" She asked, but the look on her face changed from confusion to horror as I produced the glowing green syringe. She took a step backward. "What is this?" Her furrowed brow showed fear and anger. "Tracy, please..." I pleaded, stepping toward her. She moved toward the door but I shifted to block her escape. Grabbing her, I cupped my hand over her mouth and plunged the syringe into her forearm. I could hear a brief muffled scream before she began to convulse, crumpling into my arms and then sliding onto the floor. Her body shook violently and I stood powerless, wondering what I'd just done.
Just then I heard the door open behind me. I turned and saw Will standing there. "What's going on?" He demanded. His eyes moved to my hand and widened as they saw the syringe. "What have you done?!?" He rushed toward me, slamming me into the wall behind me. I heard tiles crack and shatter and struggled to gain my footing. Pushing him to arms length I managed to land a blow to his eye, but he answered with a elbow to my chin. I crashed to the floor hard, and felt his fists pounding me repeatedly. I tried to block his punches, but he landed several. I felt my head getting fuzzy, and tried to grab his legs to trip him. He kicked me hard in the stomach and I lost my breath. Again and again I felt his blow, and heard the crack of my ribs as they broke from the onslaught. I was about to give up when I heard a tremendous crash. I looked up to see Will's body smashing though the door of a nearby stall. Searching for the source I saw Tracy reaching down, lifting me to my feet. "We need to get out of here."
I pulled out my phone to call 911 and his hand reached up and stopped me. He pointed at a picture on the wall. It was an old seascape, a ship navigating a reckless sea in the middle of a storm. I studied it for a moment and them looked back at him. He nodded and pointed again. I peered behind the frame and saw a hinge up the left side. I pulled on the edge, revealing a box set deep in the wall. On a shelf there was a slip of paper and a handgun. I picked them both up and brought them to Mr. Munn.
He handed the paper back to me and I unfolded it. On it was the VL logo and a few simple words:
Yellow= Erase
Green= Return
I looked at him with a quizzical look "The injections are not the cause of the infection?" I watched as he lifted the pistol to his own head, pressing it to his temple. His eyes filled with tears and I left the room as fast as I could. As I ran down the driveway I heard the pop of his handgun.
I walked rapidly to the closest bus station, eager to get to the office. Walking inside the door I was immediately approached by one of the Managers. "How is your mother?" he asked with pretended concern. I hung my head, doing my best to look depressed. He nodded in understanding. I knew that acting emotionally distraught would keep them off my back, giving me the time I needed to accomplish the tasks before me. "I just need to do a few quick things then I'm heading back to the hospital." I lied. He put his hand on my shoulder and said in his best voice "Well, if you need anything..." his lips pursed in pouty, false sympathy. I nodded in equally false appreciation and walked to my desk.
Sitting at my desk I glanced around carefully before opening the bottom drawer. I removed the yellow box I had stashed there and carefully opened the lid. Inside the silver case shone and I unhooked the latches quietly. Lifting the lid I looked at the syringe of green liquid. It was almost luminous. Removing the syringe from its fitted foam casing I placed it in my lap and pretended to type something on the computer. Glancing toward Tracy's desk with my peripheral vision, I could see her working on something, looking back and forth from her screen to something on her desk. I picked up the syringe and tucked it in my palm. I poked my head in her doorway. "Sorry I haven't gotten my reports to you this week." I interrupted. "I've had some things keeping me out of the office." She glanced at me only slightly, barely recognizing my apology. "I understand. Hope everything works out."
Back at my desk, I tried to think of ways to draw her out of her office. Without a personal relationship I had nothing, and our business relationship was clearly not enough to get some time alone with her. I considered enlisting the help of Dwayne or Jeff, but either posed problems. Suddenly I noticed Tracy stand up. I watched as she moved toward the marketing department. I glanced at my watch. It was almost lunch time. If she went to lunch with Will it would be almost impossible to get a moment alone with her. I walked to the water cooler and tried to listen in. "Where do you wanna go today?" I heard Will ask her. Tracy shrugged and mentioned a couple local eateries.
I saw Will grab his keys and Tracy hooked her arm in his as they began walking out together. As they passed by me I turned my head toward the wall as though I was reading a memo posted nearby. Glancing back at the couple I caught Will's eye. He was looking suspiciously at me. Before they got to he front door I heard Tracy say "Hang on, I need to run to the restroom." She turned and walked to the bathroom while Will stood by the front door looking at his watch.
The door of the women's bathroom closed behind me with a soft bang. My heart was racing. The stall doors were open except for the last one. I heard the soft whoosh of a toilet flush and barely had time to duck into a stall before Tracy came out. I watched her through the crack as she washed her hands and then applied some lipstick. She looked at herself in the mirror and picked at a flyaway strand of hair. She picked up her purse and was about to leave when I opened the door. "Tracy, wait..." I called out to her. She froze, staring at me in confusion. "What are you doing in here?" She asked, but the look on her face changed from confusion to horror as I produced the glowing green syringe. She took a step backward. "What is this?" Her furrowed brow showed fear and anger. "Tracy, please..." I pleaded, stepping toward her. She moved toward the door but I shifted to block her escape. Grabbing her, I cupped my hand over her mouth and plunged the syringe into her forearm. I could hear a brief muffled scream before she began to convulse, crumpling into my arms and then sliding onto the floor. Her body shook violently and I stood powerless, wondering what I'd just done.
Just then I heard the door open behind me. I turned and saw Will standing there. "What's going on?" He demanded. His eyes moved to my hand and widened as they saw the syringe. "What have you done?!?" He rushed toward me, slamming me into the wall behind me. I heard tiles crack and shatter and struggled to gain my footing. Pushing him to arms length I managed to land a blow to his eye, but he answered with a elbow to my chin. I crashed to the floor hard, and felt his fists pounding me repeatedly. I tried to block his punches, but he landed several. I felt my head getting fuzzy, and tried to grab his legs to trip him. He kicked me hard in the stomach and I lost my breath. Again and again I felt his blow, and heard the crack of my ribs as they broke from the onslaught. I was about to give up when I heard a tremendous crash. I looked up to see Will's body smashing though the door of a nearby stall. Searching for the source I saw Tracy reaching down, lifting me to my feet. "We need to get out of here."
Chapter 25- Overturned
"There's definitely a change occurring." Mr. Munn said, turning off his flashlight. he had been peering in my mother's eyes, searching for something. "It's the same symptoms we saw in your colleague Lucas, but it's advancing at a much slower rate." I pressed my finger to my lips, deep in thought. Lucas went mad in the janitor closet at work and died within minutes. "My neighbor had the same thing." I told Mr. Munn. "He'd been acting odd all day and went crazy and tried to hit me with a sledgehammer. I dodged out of the way just in time, but he collided with a truck and died on impact." Suzie looked at me in shock. I glanced over at her, giving her an understanding look, and continued. "And after that I was out to lunch with a friend when a homeless man jumped on me. He went crazy, tearing at my throat, like he wanted to kill me." Suzie interjected suddenly. "What did you do?" she asked with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Nothing. The last thing I remember is my friend jumping on my back, pulling on his neck. I think she killed him." Suzie gasped in horror, and Mr. Munn shook his head, looking at the floor. I continued. "Then my mother's neighbor attacked us, he was the most aggressive of all of them. He smashed through the wall of a wooden shed like it was nothing, and tried to grab us. He almost bit my mom." Mr. Munn looked at me. "He tried to bite her?" he asked, suddenly every interested. I nodded affirmatively. "He probably would have too, but I smacked him in the skull with a shovel. He's the reason my mother was in the hospital in the first place. When he grabbed her she crashed to the ground, hitting her head. She went into a coma and when she came out of it she was like this." Mr. Munn looked at Suzie, who was backed into the wall, as if to distance herself from this horrific story. He looked back at me. "Did these events have anything in common?" He pressed, looking into my eyes. I hesitated, unsure of how much I could trust him. "Madness." I said. "Crazy, almost automatic psychopathic behavior with no sense of remorse or conscience." I bit my lip, hesitating. "And their eyes. All their eyes were the same." Mr. Munn put his hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. "Their eyes looked like that, didn't they?" he asked, pointing at my mother. I barely had the strength to nod yes.
My mother was laying on the bed in Mr. Munn's guest room. The room itself was sparsely furnished, as though this were only a temporary living situation. Based on the quality of the bed and furniture I guessed it was probably rented. There was a single window looking out into the back yard. Large shade trees made the back yard seem dark, even though it was almost mid-day. I could see a German Shepard in the yard, gnawing on a tennis ball. His ears perked up and he looked toward the fence, then went back to chewing. "Mom, can you hear me?" I called out to her, rubbing her hand. No sign of recognition. What change was going on in her right now? Would she suddenly snap and attack me like the others did? Susie walked in the room holding a mug. "Hot Chocolate?" she offered, extending the cup to me. I waved it away. "Too hot." I said, looking out the window again. Susie sat on the bed and looked at me. "So..." she started with a sigh. "You really saw all those things happen?" I could tell it had been on her mind since I mentioned it earlier. I nodded, somber with the reality that my mother might suffer the same fate. "What did you do?" I thought about it. I hadn't really "done" anything except defend myself. Hitting Mr. Lawrence with that shovel was more instinctual than calculated, and all the others had either committed suicide. I assumed that Tracy had killed the homeless man in the restaurant, but with no media coverage and no one at the restaurant who remembers, I don't actually know. I looked at Suzie, who seemed to be eyeing me carefully. "Why did you help me?" I asked. She blushed a little and replied quietly "You seemed like you needed my help." She looked into my eyes. I could see how vulnerable she was, like she was almost begging me to say something, to give her some kind of sign that her sacrifice meant something. I looked at the floor for a moment and then back at her, and saw her expression fall. "I..." I paused, unsure of the words to use. "We..." She looked at me expectantly. Suddenly Mr. Munn walked in with a yellow box. It had the VL logo on it. "I need to treat you both against possible infection." He said, matter-of-factly. He lifted the lid of the box to reveal a case exactly like the one I was given days ago. Opening the silver case revealed a syringe filled with a glowing green liquid. Suzie looked at him and smiled knowingly. Realization wiped across Mr. Munn's face but before he could react, Suzie put a foot onto the bed and used it to spring into the air, launching herself high above his head. As she landed she bent her arm so her elbow landed squarely on the top of his head. His body crumpled like a lifeless rag doll and she grabbed the case. Turning, she gave me a wink "Thanks!" she said with a sneer of derision. Then she disappeared out the door.
I rushed to Mr. Munn's side, shaking him. He held his head, standing groggily and looking towards the door. "Stop her." He pointed, blood running down his forehead. I raced out of the room to the open front door. Rushing out into the street I got there just in time to see the tail lights of my jeep disappear over the hill.
My mother was laying on the bed in Mr. Munn's guest room. The room itself was sparsely furnished, as though this were only a temporary living situation. Based on the quality of the bed and furniture I guessed it was probably rented. There was a single window looking out into the back yard. Large shade trees made the back yard seem dark, even though it was almost mid-day. I could see a German Shepard in the yard, gnawing on a tennis ball. His ears perked up and he looked toward the fence, then went back to chewing. "Mom, can you hear me?" I called out to her, rubbing her hand. No sign of recognition. What change was going on in her right now? Would she suddenly snap and attack me like the others did? Susie walked in the room holding a mug. "Hot Chocolate?" she offered, extending the cup to me. I waved it away. "Too hot." I said, looking out the window again. Susie sat on the bed and looked at me. "So..." she started with a sigh. "You really saw all those things happen?" I could tell it had been on her mind since I mentioned it earlier. I nodded, somber with the reality that my mother might suffer the same fate. "What did you do?" I thought about it. I hadn't really "done" anything except defend myself. Hitting Mr. Lawrence with that shovel was more instinctual than calculated, and all the others had either committed suicide. I assumed that Tracy had killed the homeless man in the restaurant, but with no media coverage and no one at the restaurant who remembers, I don't actually know. I looked at Suzie, who seemed to be eyeing me carefully. "Why did you help me?" I asked. She blushed a little and replied quietly "You seemed like you needed my help." She looked into my eyes. I could see how vulnerable she was, like she was almost begging me to say something, to give her some kind of sign that her sacrifice meant something. I looked at the floor for a moment and then back at her, and saw her expression fall. "I..." I paused, unsure of the words to use. "We..." She looked at me expectantly. Suddenly Mr. Munn walked in with a yellow box. It had the VL logo on it. "I need to treat you both against possible infection." He said, matter-of-factly. He lifted the lid of the box to reveal a case exactly like the one I was given days ago. Opening the silver case revealed a syringe filled with a glowing green liquid. Suzie looked at him and smiled knowingly. Realization wiped across Mr. Munn's face but before he could react, Suzie put a foot onto the bed and used it to spring into the air, launching herself high above his head. As she landed she bent her arm so her elbow landed squarely on the top of his head. His body crumpled like a lifeless rag doll and she grabbed the case. Turning, she gave me a wink "Thanks!" she said with a sneer of derision. Then she disappeared out the door.
I rushed to Mr. Munn's side, shaking him. He held his head, standing groggily and looking towards the door. "Stop her." He pointed, blood running down his forehead. I raced out of the room to the open front door. Rushing out into the street I got there just in time to see the tail lights of my jeep disappear over the hill.
Chapter 24- Injection
"Visiting hours are over" the soft hands and manicured nails of the nurse shook me awake. I looked at my watch. "Have you been here all day?" I asked, running my eyes. She smiled. "Do you even know what time it is?" she said flirtatiously. I looked at my watch. 2:30am. I sat up, and the jacket I'd been using as a blanket fell to my lap. "I just got back in" she said with a smile. "You hungry?" She held up a white paper bag. "We can split my sandwich."
"So what's your name?" I asked between bites. She smiled and tried to say something, but her mouth was full. We were splitting a reuben sandwich from the local deli. "Oothy" was all that came out. "Oothy?" I laughed. "That's such a common name. We're you named after someone famous?" She poked a finger in my direction and squinted with a smile. "Don't make fun of me or I'll take away the rest of that sandwich!" I put my hands up in surrender. "So 'Oothy' what's your real name?" She looked at me, clearly interested. "Suzie." She said. I smiled back. "Susie, I need your help. With my mother." I nodded my head in the direction of her room. She looked at me quizzically.
We quietly rolled a wheelchair into my mother's room. As Suzie positioned it beside the bed, I lifted my mother under her arms and slid her into the chair. Suzie flipped her legs an pit them on the pegs at the bottom of the chair. My mother didn't say a word, but sat staring motionless at the wall. I I moved to get a better look at her face. Her eyes were more yellow than before, and it was beginning to reach her retinas. I also noticed there were small blue veins weeping outward from the edges of her eyes. "Mom? Give me a sign, please!" I looked for any note of recognition. Nothing. I looked up at Suzie and shook my head. We pushed the chair to the door and she held her hand out to stop me as she peeked out. Waving me through, I rolled her quickly toward the elevator. Pressing the button I waited impatiently until I heard the familiar ding of the car arriving on my floor.
The doors opened and the man in the labcoat was standing there, a look of shock moving across his face. I was about to turn and run, but Suzie showed up right beside me. "Doctor!" she said cheerfully. "You didn't have to come help us!" She began to push the cart into the elevator and his expression went from shock to confusion. I stood there, frozen, waiting to see how the situation played out. "Nurse, where are you taking this patient?" he asked sternly. She held out the clipboard to him. "Downstairs to Radiology, like Dr. Winston requested." He looked at the clipboard and over at me. His suspicion turned to recognition as he saw my face. "You!" he said. Suddenly his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he collapsed. There, standing behind him, was Suzie, a large hypodermic in her hand. "Hoped I wouldn't have to use that."
We moved slowly but purposefully off the elevator and into the lobby. Stopping at the guard station I smiled casually at the guard, who handed me my gun. "Got your Mom out, huh?" I nodded and smiled. "Thanks for holding onto this for me." I tucked the pistol into the holster in the back of my jeans and pushed the chair out the door.
In the Jeep, Suzie stretched out in the back seat, pulling the band out of her hair and letting it fly in the wind. In the front seat my mother stared out the front window, unmoving. I turned back to Suzie and said loudly "We need to find out what they did to her." She pointed ahead. "Go left up here. I have a friend who can help us." We turned into a small neighborhood and she directed me to a modest but well kept home. "This is it." She said. We pulled up to the curb and parked, and I lifted my mother and carried her to the door while Suzie knocked. The front porch light came on and a man opened the door. When I saw him I was so surprised that I had to struggle to keep from dropping my mother. "Mr. Munn?!?"
"So what's your name?" I asked between bites. She smiled and tried to say something, but her mouth was full. We were splitting a reuben sandwich from the local deli. "Oothy" was all that came out. "Oothy?" I laughed. "That's such a common name. We're you named after someone famous?" She poked a finger in my direction and squinted with a smile. "Don't make fun of me or I'll take away the rest of that sandwich!" I put my hands up in surrender. "So 'Oothy' what's your real name?" She looked at me, clearly interested. "Suzie." She said. I smiled back. "Susie, I need your help. With my mother." I nodded my head in the direction of her room. She looked at me quizzically.
We quietly rolled a wheelchair into my mother's room. As Suzie positioned it beside the bed, I lifted my mother under her arms and slid her into the chair. Suzie flipped her legs an pit them on the pegs at the bottom of the chair. My mother didn't say a word, but sat staring motionless at the wall. I I moved to get a better look at her face. Her eyes were more yellow than before, and it was beginning to reach her retinas. I also noticed there were small blue veins weeping outward from the edges of her eyes. "Mom? Give me a sign, please!" I looked for any note of recognition. Nothing. I looked up at Suzie and shook my head. We pushed the chair to the door and she held her hand out to stop me as she peeked out. Waving me through, I rolled her quickly toward the elevator. Pressing the button I waited impatiently until I heard the familiar ding of the car arriving on my floor.
The doors opened and the man in the labcoat was standing there, a look of shock moving across his face. I was about to turn and run, but Suzie showed up right beside me. "Doctor!" she said cheerfully. "You didn't have to come help us!" She began to push the cart into the elevator and his expression went from shock to confusion. I stood there, frozen, waiting to see how the situation played out. "Nurse, where are you taking this patient?" he asked sternly. She held out the clipboard to him. "Downstairs to Radiology, like Dr. Winston requested." He looked at the clipboard and over at me. His suspicion turned to recognition as he saw my face. "You!" he said. Suddenly his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he collapsed. There, standing behind him, was Suzie, a large hypodermic in her hand. "Hoped I wouldn't have to use that."
We moved slowly but purposefully off the elevator and into the lobby. Stopping at the guard station I smiled casually at the guard, who handed me my gun. "Got your Mom out, huh?" I nodded and smiled. "Thanks for holding onto this for me." I tucked the pistol into the holster in the back of my jeans and pushed the chair out the door.
In the Jeep, Suzie stretched out in the back seat, pulling the band out of her hair and letting it fly in the wind. In the front seat my mother stared out the front window, unmoving. I turned back to Suzie and said loudly "We need to find out what they did to her." She pointed ahead. "Go left up here. I have a friend who can help us." We turned into a small neighborhood and she directed me to a modest but well kept home. "This is it." She said. We pulled up to the curb and parked, and I lifted my mother and carried her to the door while Suzie knocked. The front porch light came on and a man opened the door. When I saw him I was so surprised that I had to struggle to keep from dropping my mother. "Mr. Munn?!?"
Chapter 23- Infiltration
My tires squealed as I turned the corner and thumped over the curb. I slammed my brakes, bringing my Jeep to a halt, and quickly punched in the code. The gate slowly opened, and I glanced at the window long enough to see Lou shaking his head disapprovingly from the window. P No time for that. I sped off down the narrow corridors, searching for #11B. There it was. I pulled up and hopped out of the vehicle before it had even come to a complete stop.
I twisted the keys on the fat padlock and flipped the lock and latch upward. Opening the door, I was faced with a large safe the size of a refrigerator. I spun the combination... 11, 75, 22. I grabbed the handle and heard a deep clunk as the tumblers released. Pulling the massive door open I looked at the rows of guns. Shotguns, pistols, boxes of ammunition, and even an AR-15 assault rifle. I grabbed the smallest pistol and a few of the clips that lay next to it. Sliding the small handgun into its Black Mamba holster, I tucked it into my jeans, just behind the small of my back. I dropped the clips into the center console of my Jeep and turned to close the door, being sure to lock it securely.
The drive to the hospital seemed endless. Every traffic light seemed to be red, and I tapped my hand anxiously on the roll bar. As I pulled within view of the hospital I slowed down. I didn't know what happened to my mother but after the reaction of that doctor, if he even was a doctor, I had suspicions. I parked toward the back of the lot, looking left and right to see if there was anyone watching from a distance. The rooftop seemed clear, and the regular traffic in and out of the hospital seemed oblivious to my arrival. I walked through the parked cars to the wide sidewalk. Patients, visitors, and doctors all bustled up and down, coming and going. I passed a woman in a wheelchair, being pushed by a friendly nurse. They both smiled. A little girl held balloons that said "It's a boy" and skipped happily behind a man carrying a toddler. An elderly man and woman walked slowly away from the door carrying a little white bag. Their arms were intertwined and he patted her hand as they moved toward the parking lot. A man in green scrubs walked out the front doors and stretched, looking up at the sky. I heard him breathe in deeply, as though he hadn't seen fresh air in days.
As I passed though the doors I found myself face to face with a metal detector. I hesitated, then turned to the man behind the desk. "I'm here to visit my Mom." I said in a low voice. "She was admitted yesterday." He nodded and gestured toward the detector. I leaned a little closer and told him I was carrying a gun, handing him my concealed weapons permit. "I don't want to just pull it out in front of everyone though." I said, trying to pretend that I had the hospital patrons' best interests in mind. He nodded appreciatively, as though we shared some sort of secret bond, and asked me to step behind a partition. "This is where we do searches," he explained. "You can place your gun in this and I'll hold it for you until you are done." He handed me a plastic tub with a familiar logo. VL, with a beaker next to it. I looked up at him, noticing the same logo was sewn into the patch on his arm. I casually placed my gun in the bin thanked him.
Hitting the button to the elevator I began to notice the logo on everything. It was in the corner of the posters hung in the hallway, it was embroidered in white thread on the lab coats of each doctor walking by. I tapped my foot, still feeling anxious. When the elevator arrived I stepped on with a nurse carrying a clipboard and a woman holding a young boy's hand. I heard him whisper to her as he looked up into her eyes. "Will Daddy be okay? He was really mad." The look on her face was a mix of fear and embarrassment. She glanced over at me and then to the nurse. All eyes were on her, waiting for a response. "Daddy is very sick right now, but the doctors will make him better." she told him in a low voice. I could hear her voice crack as she spoke. She's clearly been crying. The door opened and she got off, as did the nurse. The doors closed again and I waited as the elevator carried me upward. Looking around I saw an advertisement on the wall of the elevator. "Tomorrow's solutions" it said, depicting an elderly woman sitting next to a child who was coloring a picture. They looked adoringly at each other, and I noticed the VL logo in the corner. With the ding of the bell, the doors opened. The hallway was empty, and I walked cautiously to the nurse's station. The same girl I had seen yesterday brightened as she sat up, smiling at me. "Hi," I said nervously. "I got a call that my mother was missing?" Her smile turned almost to embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry, that was me. I guess the doctor had taken her down for some tests but didn't tell us. She's back now." She pointed with her pen to the room, and I turned and looked at the door. It was partway open, and I could see the TV on.
I pushed the door open slowly and saw my mother sitting up in bed, staring at the TV. "Hey, you're awake!" I said, leaning in to give her a hug. She didn't hug back, but just sat there, staring at the TV. "Mom?" I asked, but there was no response. I stepped back out to the nurse's station and she looked up from her work and smiled again. "Everything okay?" she asked. "I'd like to talk to her doctor. Is he around?" She flipped a page on her clipboard with her manicured fingernails, biting her lip as she searched the page. "Looks like he's already left for the day, but I could call his colleague to the floor." I nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, that would be great." I went back into the room and sat in the chair next to the bed, glancing from the TV back to her. She didn't even seem to be watching it, just staring, as if in a trance. I stood up and looked closer at her eyes. Were the outside edges turning yellow, or was that just my paranoia?
"You must be family." a deep voice startled me and I spun around. A tall man stood in the doorway. He was wearing bright green scrubs and a white lab coat. " I shook his hand and introduced myself. He had a strong, firm grip that was somehow gentle and soft. "When did she wake up?" I asked. He leaned over and waved at her as though he was greeting her. "It was yesterday about 4:30pm" he said, looking back at me. "Really?" I puzzled. "I was here until 4:00." I probably sounded a little too suspicious. He chuckled and smiled at me. "Just missed her, huh? That happens more than you know around here." I looked back at my mother, just staring mindlessly at the TV. "Was she like this when she woke? What's wrong with her?" His smiled faded and his voice gathered a serious, professional tone. "She was lucid for about 20 minutes, but she's been like this ever since. We believe that whatever trauma she suffered has caused a mental break, and her conscious mind has retreated back into her subconscious until it feels reality is safe enough to come back." I looked at him wide eyed. "Again, we don't know for sure, that's just our theory."
I pointed at the VL sewn into his coat. "So, what's the VL stand for?" I asked as though I was just making conversation. He pressed his chin to his chest, looking at the logo. "I think its the company that owns the hospital. Some research lab." I decided not to push it and changed the subject back. Pointing towards my mother, I looked at him "I noticed her eyes are turning a little yellow. Is that normal?" He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and shone it into her retinas. "Hmm..." he said, and flipped open a pocket notebook, jotting down a few things. "Nothing to worry about." he said. "That's perfectly normal." His smile seemed practiced and counterfeit. I thanked him as genuinely as I could and stood up. He stood as well and gave a little wave as he walked out.
I looked back at my mother, sitting there soaking in her television mindlessly. "We've got to get you out of here."
I twisted the keys on the fat padlock and flipped the lock and latch upward. Opening the door, I was faced with a large safe the size of a refrigerator. I spun the combination... 11, 75, 22. I grabbed the handle and heard a deep clunk as the tumblers released. Pulling the massive door open I looked at the rows of guns. Shotguns, pistols, boxes of ammunition, and even an AR-15 assault rifle. I grabbed the smallest pistol and a few of the clips that lay next to it. Sliding the small handgun into its Black Mamba holster, I tucked it into my jeans, just behind the small of my back. I dropped the clips into the center console of my Jeep and turned to close the door, being sure to lock it securely.
The drive to the hospital seemed endless. Every traffic light seemed to be red, and I tapped my hand anxiously on the roll bar. As I pulled within view of the hospital I slowed down. I didn't know what happened to my mother but after the reaction of that doctor, if he even was a doctor, I had suspicions. I parked toward the back of the lot, looking left and right to see if there was anyone watching from a distance. The rooftop seemed clear, and the regular traffic in and out of the hospital seemed oblivious to my arrival. I walked through the parked cars to the wide sidewalk. Patients, visitors, and doctors all bustled up and down, coming and going. I passed a woman in a wheelchair, being pushed by a friendly nurse. They both smiled. A little girl held balloons that said "It's a boy" and skipped happily behind a man carrying a toddler. An elderly man and woman walked slowly away from the door carrying a little white bag. Their arms were intertwined and he patted her hand as they moved toward the parking lot. A man in green scrubs walked out the front doors and stretched, looking up at the sky. I heard him breathe in deeply, as though he hadn't seen fresh air in days.
As I passed though the doors I found myself face to face with a metal detector. I hesitated, then turned to the man behind the desk. "I'm here to visit my Mom." I said in a low voice. "She was admitted yesterday." He nodded and gestured toward the detector. I leaned a little closer and told him I was carrying a gun, handing him my concealed weapons permit. "I don't want to just pull it out in front of everyone though." I said, trying to pretend that I had the hospital patrons' best interests in mind. He nodded appreciatively, as though we shared some sort of secret bond, and asked me to step behind a partition. "This is where we do searches," he explained. "You can place your gun in this and I'll hold it for you until you are done." He handed me a plastic tub with a familiar logo. VL, with a beaker next to it. I looked up at him, noticing the same logo was sewn into the patch on his arm. I casually placed my gun in the bin thanked him.
 |
| "This is where we do searches," he explained. "You can place your gun in this and I'll hold it for you until you are done." He handed me a plastic tub with a familiar logo. VL, with a beaker next to it. |
Hitting the button to the elevator I began to notice the logo on everything. It was in the corner of the posters hung in the hallway, it was embroidered in white thread on the lab coats of each doctor walking by. I tapped my foot, still feeling anxious. When the elevator arrived I stepped on with a nurse carrying a clipboard and a woman holding a young boy's hand. I heard him whisper to her as he looked up into her eyes. "Will Daddy be okay? He was really mad." The look on her face was a mix of fear and embarrassment. She glanced over at me and then to the nurse. All eyes were on her, waiting for a response. "Daddy is very sick right now, but the doctors will make him better." she told him in a low voice. I could hear her voice crack as she spoke. She's clearly been crying. The door opened and she got off, as did the nurse. The doors closed again and I waited as the elevator carried me upward. Looking around I saw an advertisement on the wall of the elevator. "Tomorrow's solutions" it said, depicting an elderly woman sitting next to a child who was coloring a picture. They looked adoringly at each other, and I noticed the VL logo in the corner. With the ding of the bell, the doors opened. The hallway was empty, and I walked cautiously to the nurse's station. The same girl I had seen yesterday brightened as she sat up, smiling at me. "Hi," I said nervously. "I got a call that my mother was missing?" Her smile turned almost to embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry, that was me. I guess the doctor had taken her down for some tests but didn't tell us. She's back now." She pointed with her pen to the room, and I turned and looked at the door. It was partway open, and I could see the TV on.
I pushed the door open slowly and saw my mother sitting up in bed, staring at the TV. "Hey, you're awake!" I said, leaning in to give her a hug. She didn't hug back, but just sat there, staring at the TV. "Mom?" I asked, but there was no response. I stepped back out to the nurse's station and she looked up from her work and smiled again. "Everything okay?" she asked. "I'd like to talk to her doctor. Is he around?" She flipped a page on her clipboard with her manicured fingernails, biting her lip as she searched the page. "Looks like he's already left for the day, but I could call his colleague to the floor." I nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, that would be great." I went back into the room and sat in the chair next to the bed, glancing from the TV back to her. She didn't even seem to be watching it, just staring, as if in a trance. I stood up and looked closer at her eyes. Were the outside edges turning yellow, or was that just my paranoia?
"You must be family." a deep voice startled me and I spun around. A tall man stood in the doorway. He was wearing bright green scrubs and a white lab coat. " I shook his hand and introduced myself. He had a strong, firm grip that was somehow gentle and soft. "When did she wake up?" I asked. He leaned over and waved at her as though he was greeting her. "It was yesterday about 4:30pm" he said, looking back at me. "Really?" I puzzled. "I was here until 4:00." I probably sounded a little too suspicious. He chuckled and smiled at me. "Just missed her, huh? That happens more than you know around here." I looked back at my mother, just staring mindlessly at the TV. "Was she like this when she woke? What's wrong with her?" His smiled faded and his voice gathered a serious, professional tone. "She was lucid for about 20 minutes, but she's been like this ever since. We believe that whatever trauma she suffered has caused a mental break, and her conscious mind has retreated back into her subconscious until it feels reality is safe enough to come back." I looked at him wide eyed. "Again, we don't know for sure, that's just our theory."
I pointed at the VL sewn into his coat. "So, what's the VL stand for?" I asked as though I was just making conversation. He pressed his chin to his chest, looking at the logo. "I think its the company that owns the hospital. Some research lab." I decided not to push it and changed the subject back. Pointing towards my mother, I looked at him "I noticed her eyes are turning a little yellow. Is that normal?" He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and shone it into her retinas. "Hmm..." he said, and flipped open a pocket notebook, jotting down a few things. "Nothing to worry about." he said. "That's perfectly normal." His smile seemed practiced and counterfeit. I thanked him as genuinely as I could and stood up. He stood as well and gave a little wave as he walked out.
I looked back at my mother, sitting there soaking in her television mindlessly. "We've got to get you out of here."
Chapter 22- Maternal Misplacement
I sat staring at mother laying in the hospital bed. This was all my fault. Why did I run to the back yard? I could have easily turned and pulled her out the front door. Sure, I wanted to get to the tools, maybe use one as a weapon, but in reality what did I expect to do with one of those rusty items? I didn't have any training. Outside of the rudimentary concepts of swinging and throwing I had little experience with any skills that could be used to defend myself, let alone protect someone else. I touched her hand gently, tracing her veins with my finger. They were raised above her skin, prominent from years of hauling groceries and rolling dough. These hands were filled with a lifetime of love and service. "Mom?" I squeezed her hand firmly, hoping to get some indication that she could hear me. Nothing. I choked back the tears and stood up. "I'll be back soon." I said, expecting no response. I kissed her forehead and left the room.
The nurse looked up at me as I walked out the door. Our eyes met and she immediately looked down, smiling slightly. She was pretty, and I looked at the way her light blonde hair was pulled back into a tight little ponytail. Her uniform might have masked her figure, but I still found her attractive. When I reached the end of the hall I pressed the large shiny down arrow, calling the elevator. Glancing back toward the nurses station, our eyes met again, and I smiled at her. She smiled back, and blushed just a bit as grabbed a clipboard and went into a nearby room. I looked down at my feet. I missed being smiled at. Tracy had a wonderful smile. I thought of how she would tease me playfully, how she always demanded I be my very best, and did so without making me feel stupid or inferior. It was like she could see who I was going to become, not who I am now.
I felt the elevator arrive and heard the faint ding as the doors opened. A man in a lab coat looked up at me. He was tall, in his late 40's, with a hint of grey in his hair. I stepped out of his way and watched as he headed toward the nurses station. He was carrying a yellow box in his hand that looked exactly like the one I found on my front porch. "Excuse me" I called out. He turned and faced me, looking annoyed. "Sorry, I'm sure you're busy. I just have a question." He scrutinized my face as he waited to hear what I had to ask. "That box you're carrying, what's in it?" He looked at me, cocking his head to one side slightly. "Young man, are you a patient here?" I shook my head and pointed toward my mother's room. "My mom was hurt. She's been unconscious for almost 20 hours." He put a false smile on his face. "Sorry to hear that, we're doing everything we can to help her." He turned to leave but I pointed at the box again. "I've seen a box like that before. What's in it?" His false smile turned to suspicion with a hint of anger. "You've seen this box?" he asked, almost forcefully. "Where?" I stepped back, into the elevator. "I... I..." The elevator doors started to close and he lunged toward them, but it was too late, they shut, cutting him off.
My mind raced and I began to panic. Would he try to pursue me? When the doors open will I find his sweaty form having leapt down the stairs, ready to pounce on me as I exit the elevator? The elevator slowed to a halt and felt the jolt as it locked in place. The bell rang and as the doors opened my muscles grew taut. Tensely I waited, then looked out slowly. Nothing. I took a step out... still nothing.
I pulled into my garage and parked my Jeep but before I went inside I removed my smartphone and opened the app that controls my security system. It was still armed. I flipped through the history. There were no logs that anyone had disarmed my system or entered my home. To be sure, I selecting the camera tab. peering into the darkness, I studied the live video feed, looking for any sign of disturbance. Everything seemed to be in its proper place. I walked in slowly, looking around. It seemed quiet. Perhaps I was being overly paranoid, but then why shouldn't I be? Lucas died in my arms and was buried with no explanation. My neighbor went crazy and almost hit me with a sledgehammer. My mother's neighbor attacked me. All around I was seeing signs that something was happening, yet it was being kept quiet. The reports of crime and accidents were increasing, yet the media never makes any mention people losing their minds, with the exception of the rumors about bath salts. Every reported event is attributed to normal causes or simple coincidence. "Don't worry about everyone else" I told myself. "Just be ready if it does happen."
My phone buzzed- it was the hospital. Perhaps they are calling to tell me my mother had finally woken up. "Hello?" I answered. I almost dropped the phone when the girl on the other side told me the news. "What do you mean she's missing?"
The nurse looked up at me as I walked out the door. Our eyes met and she immediately looked down, smiling slightly. She was pretty, and I looked at the way her light blonde hair was pulled back into a tight little ponytail. Her uniform might have masked her figure, but I still found her attractive. When I reached the end of the hall I pressed the large shiny down arrow, calling the elevator. Glancing back toward the nurses station, our eyes met again, and I smiled at her. She smiled back, and blushed just a bit as grabbed a clipboard and went into a nearby room. I looked down at my feet. I missed being smiled at. Tracy had a wonderful smile. I thought of how she would tease me playfully, how she always demanded I be my very best, and did so without making me feel stupid or inferior. It was like she could see who I was going to become, not who I am now.
 |
| I felt the elevator arrive and heard the faint ding as the doors opened. A man in a lab coat looked up at me. |
My mind raced and I began to panic. Would he try to pursue me? When the doors open will I find his sweaty form having leapt down the stairs, ready to pounce on me as I exit the elevator? The elevator slowed to a halt and felt the jolt as it locked in place. The bell rang and as the doors opened my muscles grew taut. Tensely I waited, then looked out slowly. Nothing. I took a step out... still nothing.
I pulled into my garage and parked my Jeep but before I went inside I removed my smartphone and opened the app that controls my security system. It was still armed. I flipped through the history. There were no logs that anyone had disarmed my system or entered my home. To be sure, I selecting the camera tab. peering into the darkness, I studied the live video feed, looking for any sign of disturbance. Everything seemed to be in its proper place. I walked in slowly, looking around. It seemed quiet. Perhaps I was being overly paranoid, but then why shouldn't I be? Lucas died in my arms and was buried with no explanation. My neighbor went crazy and almost hit me with a sledgehammer. My mother's neighbor attacked me. All around I was seeing signs that something was happening, yet it was being kept quiet. The reports of crime and accidents were increasing, yet the media never makes any mention people losing their minds, with the exception of the rumors about bath salts. Every reported event is attributed to normal causes or simple coincidence. "Don't worry about everyone else" I told myself. "Just be ready if it does happen."
My phone buzzed- it was the hospital. Perhaps they are calling to tell me my mother had finally woken up. "Hello?" I answered. I almost dropped the phone when the girl on the other side told me the news. "What do you mean she's missing?"
Chapter 21- Cataracts
"These are the best cinnamon rolls you've made Mom." I took a bite of my 3rd roll and wiped the thick sugary frosting off the corner of my lip. She smiled at me and poured me some more orange juice. "I see you drove your Father's jeep today." She nodded toward the window. "This doesn't have anything to do with the time I spend with Mr. Lawrence, does it?" She gave me the same look she used when she knew I was trying to get away with some teenage prank. The look that says "you can't fool me," the look that always disarms a kid. I smiled and took another bite of my roll. "I actually don't have a problem with ol' Harold, to tell you the truth I actually feel bad for the guy." It felt good to be completely honest with her. "In fact, the only issue I have is his overall grumpiness. I mean, I think he chooses to be an ornery old cuss. He could be nice, he could say hello or at least smile, but he chooses to be mean." She looked at me with sadness and understanding. "I think its his way of keeping his defenses up." She put her hand on my shoulder and looked out the back window, lost in thought. "He's been hurt deeply, and he thinks the only way to keep from getting hurt again is never to care." I began to understand the great depth of love my mother has for others. She is truly one of the best people I know. "Anyway, we're going to have an opportunity to fix all that." she said, putting plates in the sink and drying her hands off on her apron.
I stood reluctantly beside her holding a big plate of cinnamon rolls as she rang the doorbell. A dark shape passed by the window and moved towards the other room. "Harold?" she called out pleasantly. "Its me." She knocked on the door again. No answer, and no sign of movement. She reached for the handle and I put my hand out as of to say "wait." She gave me a scolding look and turned the knob. "Harold, we're here..." she called out, looking from left to right as she slowly opened the door. I stayed close behind her. The air was thick with the smell of leather and dusty old books. The lights were out, and the long black curtains and high furniture made it unnaturally dark. I began to understand his gloom, it must have been hard to be cheerful in such an environment.
"Harold, where are you?" Her wrinkled hands fumbled along the crumbling plaster, searching for a light switch. I stood by the door, my eyes trying to adjust. Off to the left I heard a creak, like something shifting it's weight on the hardwood floor. I squinted to focus my vision but still couldn't see anything. "Oh, here we are" I heard her say, and the hallway light flipped on. Standing in the room next to us was Harold Lawrence. His face was pale and sweaty, and a large scratch ran from his blood mottled hair diagonally across his face to his chin. His eyes were blank and lifeless, a sickening yellow hue replacing the normal gray-blue. He cocked his head to the side as if listening for us blindly. My mother gasped and reached out toward him. "Harold!" She called out. The beast bellowed and lunged toward her, and I barely had time to dive into his shoulder to divert his charge. Slamming him against the wall he turned his rage toward me, grasping at me with thick, dirty fingernails. I yelled to my mother "RUN!" but she stood, hands on her mouth in paralyzed fear. He was immensely strong for someone his age, as though whatever transformed him gave him strength he never had before. He latched onto my forearm with vice-like intensity, and as I twisted to break his grip I could feel my flesh burn. I smacked my elbow into his nose as hard as I could, and felt his hands loosen enough to break his hold. Stumbling backward I turned the corner and grabbed my mother's hand, pulling her down the hall toward the backyard. The screen door was closed but I put my shoulder through it, bursting the metal frame in a loud bang. My mother was sobbing uncontrollably. I looked around desperately for a way out. The yard was surrounded by a sturdy fence over 8 feet tall. Knowing it was impossible for my mother to scale it, I searched for an alternative. I could hear crashing inside the house, accompanied by cries of pain and fury.
I pushed my mother toward the shed in the back corner of the yard. Remembering the terrifying collection of rusty tools that scared me as a child, I looked for something that could be used to defend myself. The building was made of thin boards, lined with shelves stacked with half used paint cans, a variety of rusty tools, and mason jars filled with nails, screws and other knick knacks. Hanging from the ceiling were the blades and other tools I'd remembered from my childhood. They were rusty and dull, as though they hadn't been used in years. Old bent shovels, twisted rakes and other tools I couldn't identify swayed dangerously above our heads and hung precariously on the wall.
"We've got to be quiet." I commanded, and unhooked a large blade that looked like a combination between a machete and a scythe. I wondered briefly what this diabolical looking tool was used for as I felt it's weight in my hands. The handle was worn from years of use, and it was wrapped in old electrical tape that was beginning to peel and harden. As I gripped the diabolical looking instrument my mother's eyes widened in horror. "No, you can't... Please... Its Harold!" I knelt down and looked her in the eyes. "Mom, listen to me. That's not Harold anymore." She shook her head like a child, closing her eyes as though that would make it all go away. "No, no, no..." I put my hand on her to calm her and she nodded knowingly, tears streaming down her face. Looking through the slats I tried to get a view of the back door, but I could barely see out. The light streaming through the cracks lit up the dusty interior in small thin rays, and I found them memorizingly beautiful. The dust danced and spun in the air listlessly and I swung my weapon through them, sending them spiraling into curls and rills.
A large crash snaps me out of my respite, and I hear the beast scrambling into the backyard. Peering through the slats I see his bloody swollen face upturned. Was he smelling or listening? It was almost impossible to tell. His skin was grey and cold, the blood was congealing in thick, black lumps around his wound. I looked at his eyes. They were changing even more- from the pale, sickly yellow to an almost ghostly white. Something thick seemed to be encasing the retinas, like massive swollen cataracts. I look back at my mother, staring back at me, too scared to move. I worry that her inability to control her emotions right now will reveal our position, and I put my finger to my mouth, signaling her to be as quiet as possible. This seems to have the opposite effect, triggering an almost uncontrollable fear in her eyes.
Before I can do anything she begins to sob and cry. I glance back in horror as I see the former Mr. Lawrence moving toward the shed in a full sprint. He crashes through the thin walls, splintering boards and sending paint cans and mason jars flying. I am thrown backward onto a lawn mower, the engine block slamming into the small of my back. Shards of glass rain down on my face and I feel nails falling down the collar of my shirt. The weapon once held is lost in the shuffle, and I kick out with my feet instinctively. My foot connects with his jaw, spinning him off balance and causing him to scream in pain. He swings his arms madly, trying desperately to grab hold of me. I fend him off with repeated blows with my legs, and don't stop until I hear the screams of horror emanating from my mother. She calls out "Oh please, stop! Please! Harold! Harold! It's me! Please!" The beast lunges toward the sound of her voice and I grab his legs to trip him just as he grabs onto her. His strong hands grip her hair as he falls, and he pulls her down to the ground with a crash. Her head hits the hard pack floor with a sickening crack and I see blood in her nose and in the corner of her mouth. He pulls himself toward her, mouth open, as though he wants to bite her. I grab the handle of the closest tool I can reach and swing hard. It connects with his head and he collapses to the ground, finally motionless.
I move quickly to my mother's side. Her breathing is slow and labored. Trying not to move her I call her name, touching her gently on the shoulder. Her eyes spring open with the sudden realization of where she is. She looks up at me "Harold, is he..." her eyes well up with tears. "He's not going to hurt us Mom, we're safe." Her eyes flicker closed as I dial 911 on my cell phone. "There's been an accident," I tell the operator. "We need an ambulance immediately."
I stood reluctantly beside her holding a big plate of cinnamon rolls as she rang the doorbell. A dark shape passed by the window and moved towards the other room. "Harold?" she called out pleasantly. "Its me." She knocked on the door again. No answer, and no sign of movement. She reached for the handle and I put my hand out as of to say "wait." She gave me a scolding look and turned the knob. "Harold, we're here..." she called out, looking from left to right as she slowly opened the door. I stayed close behind her. The air was thick with the smell of leather and dusty old books. The lights were out, and the long black curtains and high furniture made it unnaturally dark. I began to understand his gloom, it must have been hard to be cheerful in such an environment.
 |
| "I stood by the door, my eyes trying to adjust. Off to the left I heard a creak, like something shifting it's weight on the hardwood floor. I squinted to focus my vision but still couldn't see anything." |
"Harold, where are you?" Her wrinkled hands fumbled along the crumbling plaster, searching for a light switch. I stood by the door, my eyes trying to adjust. Off to the left I heard a creak, like something shifting it's weight on the hardwood floor. I squinted to focus my vision but still couldn't see anything. "Oh, here we are" I heard her say, and the hallway light flipped on. Standing in the room next to us was Harold Lawrence. His face was pale and sweaty, and a large scratch ran from his blood mottled hair diagonally across his face to his chin. His eyes were blank and lifeless, a sickening yellow hue replacing the normal gray-blue. He cocked his head to the side as if listening for us blindly. My mother gasped and reached out toward him. "Harold!" She called out. The beast bellowed and lunged toward her, and I barely had time to dive into his shoulder to divert his charge. Slamming him against the wall he turned his rage toward me, grasping at me with thick, dirty fingernails. I yelled to my mother "RUN!" but she stood, hands on her mouth in paralyzed fear. He was immensely strong for someone his age, as though whatever transformed him gave him strength he never had before. He latched onto my forearm with vice-like intensity, and as I twisted to break his grip I could feel my flesh burn. I smacked my elbow into his nose as hard as I could, and felt his hands loosen enough to break his hold. Stumbling backward I turned the corner and grabbed my mother's hand, pulling her down the hall toward the backyard. The screen door was closed but I put my shoulder through it, bursting the metal frame in a loud bang. My mother was sobbing uncontrollably. I looked around desperately for a way out. The yard was surrounded by a sturdy fence over 8 feet tall. Knowing it was impossible for my mother to scale it, I searched for an alternative. I could hear crashing inside the house, accompanied by cries of pain and fury.
I pushed my mother toward the shed in the back corner of the yard. Remembering the terrifying collection of rusty tools that scared me as a child, I looked for something that could be used to defend myself. The building was made of thin boards, lined with shelves stacked with half used paint cans, a variety of rusty tools, and mason jars filled with nails, screws and other knick knacks. Hanging from the ceiling were the blades and other tools I'd remembered from my childhood. They were rusty and dull, as though they hadn't been used in years. Old bent shovels, twisted rakes and other tools I couldn't identify swayed dangerously above our heads and hung precariously on the wall.
 |
| "I pushed my mother toward the shed in the back corner of the yard. Remembering the terrifying collection of rusty tools that scared me as a child, I looked for something that could be used to defend myself." |
"We've got to be quiet." I commanded, and unhooked a large blade that looked like a combination between a machete and a scythe. I wondered briefly what this diabolical looking tool was used for as I felt it's weight in my hands. The handle was worn from years of use, and it was wrapped in old electrical tape that was beginning to peel and harden. As I gripped the diabolical looking instrument my mother's eyes widened in horror. "No, you can't... Please... Its Harold!" I knelt down and looked her in the eyes. "Mom, listen to me. That's not Harold anymore." She shook her head like a child, closing her eyes as though that would make it all go away. "No, no, no..." I put my hand on her to calm her and she nodded knowingly, tears streaming down her face. Looking through the slats I tried to get a view of the back door, but I could barely see out. The light streaming through the cracks lit up the dusty interior in small thin rays, and I found them memorizingly beautiful. The dust danced and spun in the air listlessly and I swung my weapon through them, sending them spiraling into curls and rills.
A large crash snaps me out of my respite, and I hear the beast scrambling into the backyard. Peering through the slats I see his bloody swollen face upturned. Was he smelling or listening? It was almost impossible to tell. His skin was grey and cold, the blood was congealing in thick, black lumps around his wound. I looked at his eyes. They were changing even more- from the pale, sickly yellow to an almost ghostly white. Something thick seemed to be encasing the retinas, like massive swollen cataracts. I look back at my mother, staring back at me, too scared to move. I worry that her inability to control her emotions right now will reveal our position, and I put my finger to my mouth, signaling her to be as quiet as possible. This seems to have the opposite effect, triggering an almost uncontrollable fear in her eyes.
Before I can do anything she begins to sob and cry. I glance back in horror as I see the former Mr. Lawrence moving toward the shed in a full sprint. He crashes through the thin walls, splintering boards and sending paint cans and mason jars flying. I am thrown backward onto a lawn mower, the engine block slamming into the small of my back. Shards of glass rain down on my face and I feel nails falling down the collar of my shirt. The weapon once held is lost in the shuffle, and I kick out with my feet instinctively. My foot connects with his jaw, spinning him off balance and causing him to scream in pain. He swings his arms madly, trying desperately to grab hold of me. I fend him off with repeated blows with my legs, and don't stop until I hear the screams of horror emanating from my mother. She calls out "Oh please, stop! Please! Harold! Harold! It's me! Please!" The beast lunges toward the sound of her voice and I grab his legs to trip him just as he grabs onto her. His strong hands grip her hair as he falls, and he pulls her down to the ground with a crash. Her head hits the hard pack floor with a sickening crack and I see blood in her nose and in the corner of her mouth. He pulls himself toward her, mouth open, as though he wants to bite her. I grab the handle of the closest tool I can reach and swing hard. It connects with his head and he collapses to the ground, finally motionless.
I move quickly to my mother's side. Her breathing is slow and labored. Trying not to move her I call her name, touching her gently on the shoulder. Her eyes spring open with the sudden realization of where she is. She looks up at me "Harold, is he..." her eyes well up with tears. "He's not going to hurt us Mom, we're safe." Her eyes flicker closed as I dial 911 on my cell phone. "There's been an accident," I tell the operator. "We need an ambulance immediately."
Chapter 20- Solitary Refinement
I looked in the mirror, searching my own eyes for some sign that I was going crazy. Insanity would be a welcome diagnosis compared to this perplexing reality I now faced. Had the whole world gone mad, or was it just me? I splashed warm water on my face and rubbed. I thought of Tracy, how she leapt fearlessly onto the homeless man's back, how she had tried to pull him off me- did she break his neck? I heard a pop, but that kind of act would land her in prison... So many unanswered questions. I began thinking my life was being directed by the producers of Lost.
Toweling off, I threw on a tee shirt and went for a walk. The farmers market around the corner was bustling with shoppers and kids playing tag. A couple of old men sat on a corner playing checkers in the morning sun. Everyone seemed so happy and oblivious to the horrors I seemed to be facing every day. I found myself walking a little slower, pausing to watch them play, soaking in each moment because deep down, I knew it couldn't last.
I felt the familiar rush of air through the vents as the train below me arrived at the station. I glanced at the stairway and felt compelled to get on the train.
"What are you doing here?" my mother asked as she opened the door. "I don't expect you on Saturdays..." I smiled and kissed her on the cheek as I walked in the door. "Just missed you and wanted to see you." She was wearing her apron and had flour all over her hands. "Bread?" I asked, looking toward the kitchen. "Cinnamon rolls. Come help me." I followed her into the kitchen and washed my hands. Standing opposite her I began to roll the soft, sticky dough in the flour and then shape it into buns. "So who are these for?" I asked casually. She smiled as she sprinkled cinnamon lightly over the dough. "For us, for breakfast tomorrow." I looked at her suspiciously. "And..." I asked expectantly. She smiled sheepishly. "...and I thought I would give a few to Mr. Lawrence." I poked a flour covered finger at her and teased "you have a crush on that grumpy old man, don't you?" She started to blush. "He's a nice man, and he's lonely." I looked at her. Her silver hair was pulled up in a bun, wisps of dark grey and white falling around her face in a tangled mess. She had a kind, healthy face, and the creases around her eyes were deep from years of smiling. Her bright green eyes looked misty and soft, and found myself looking at her and admiring what a beautiful woman she still was. Suddenly my mind flashed, and I saw my mother's eyes, not luminous and green but dingy, pale, and yellow. The life had been drained from them, and the skin on her face sagged across her bones. I gasped and took a step back. "Darling, what's the matter?" She asked. I shook my head, feeling fuzzy and disoriented. Everything was back to normal.
Just then I heard a knock on the door. "Oh that must be Mr. Lawrence, he's early!" she began fidgeting with her hair and doing her best to wipe the flour off her apron. "Get the door, will you sweetie?" I walked down the hall, glancing at the photos hanging on the dingy floral wallpaper. I have a lot of memories in this house. The time we pulled all the mattresses off the beds and made a slide down the stairway, having mud parties in Mom's flower beds, and the days when my Dad would unscrew the top of the fire hydrant so all the neighborhood kids could play in the water. I was smiling when I opened the door, but that faded immediately. Mr. Lawrence was standing there with a bouquet of wilted daisies. Seeing me he snarled "You again?" and quickly shoved the flowers into my hands. "Your mother wanted those. Tell her I'll be at home." Without another word he began to storm off toward his house. "Harold, wait!" She came dashing out the door with her hat and shawl pulled around her shoulders. "I'm here" she patted his arm reassuringly and slid her arm though his. Turning over her shoulder she waved at me. "You're still coming over for breakfast tomorrow, right? Be a dear and lock the front door for me!" She diverted her attention back to Mr. Lawrence and I watched as they walked off together down the tree lined street.
It was a quiet ride back to my home. I felt very alone, I couldn't stop thinking about Tracy. Arriving at my apartment I grabbed my keys and took the jeep out for a drive. The wind of the cooling evening air felt amazing and seemed to erase all my frustrations. I could smell fried food mixed with the hint of rain, and looked up at the clouds looming ominously overhead. The wind began to pick up and I felt a few drops of rain. I would have to be fast. Besides, if what I assumed was accurate, there wouldn't be much to look at.
Pulling into SafeT Storage I punched my code into the keypad and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel while the door slowly opened. I saw Lou's face peer out the office window and gave him a small wave. He snorted and turned away. Not the friendliest guy.
I checked one of the small storage units first. After finding everything removed from my apartment I expected the supplies we placed here to be gone as well. I crossed my fingers and turned the key in the lock... It opened. I pulled the heavy door ajar and saw cases of water bottles stacked to the ceiling. To the left were a few foldable chairs, and a temporary awning that could be used for shade or protection from rain. I began to be hopeful, and quickened my steps to the other units. Each of the supplies stored in the small units were intact and undisturbed. At least I didn't lose everything. Approaching the large unit I held my breath as I opened the door. There should only have been a pair of ATVs and some blankets, but as I slid the door upward I was greeted by piles and piles of supplies. Everything that was once in my apartment was here, well organized and safe. I smiled and thought of Tracy. She was the only one who could have done this, the only one who had the code, who knew where the keys were, and the location of this unit. My smile faded as I thought of our brief conversation yesterday at work. "Do I know you?" she had said innocently. "Because I think you have me confused with someone else." The words cut into me and I left defeated and downtrodden. She had been my confidant, my strength, and I had hoped she'd one day become more.
I walked through the unit, inspecting the various items and thinking of my next steps. I wish I could know what happened, or if there was a way to restore Tracy's memory, but I didn't have a clue where to begin. As I pulled the massive door closed I reached my hands in my pocket to grab the keys. My fingers brushed a card and I pulled it out to look at it. It was the card the officer had given me that I was pulled over. I wonder...
Punching his number into my phone, I tapped out the message "How do I cure a memory lapse?" and pressed send. A text came back almost immediately. "Who's memory?" I thought about it for a moment and then responded "A close friend" his reply came as I climbed into my jeep to leave. "You already have everything you need."
Toweling off, I threw on a tee shirt and went for a walk. The farmers market around the corner was bustling with shoppers and kids playing tag. A couple of old men sat on a corner playing checkers in the morning sun. Everyone seemed so happy and oblivious to the horrors I seemed to be facing every day. I found myself walking a little slower, pausing to watch them play, soaking in each moment because deep down, I knew it couldn't last.
I felt the familiar rush of air through the vents as the train below me arrived at the station. I glanced at the stairway and felt compelled to get on the train.
 |
| I walked down the hall, glancing at the photos hanging on the dingy floral wallpaper. I have a lot of memories in this house. The time we pulled all the mattresses off the beds and made a slide down the stairway, having mud parties in Mom's flower beds, and the days when my Dad would unscrew the top of the fire hydrant so all the neighborhood kids could play in the water. |
"What are you doing here?" my mother asked as she opened the door. "I don't expect you on Saturdays..." I smiled and kissed her on the cheek as I walked in the door. "Just missed you and wanted to see you." She was wearing her apron and had flour all over her hands. "Bread?" I asked, looking toward the kitchen. "Cinnamon rolls. Come help me." I followed her into the kitchen and washed my hands. Standing opposite her I began to roll the soft, sticky dough in the flour and then shape it into buns. "So who are these for?" I asked casually. She smiled as she sprinkled cinnamon lightly over the dough. "For us, for breakfast tomorrow." I looked at her suspiciously. "And..." I asked expectantly. She smiled sheepishly. "...and I thought I would give a few to Mr. Lawrence." I poked a flour covered finger at her and teased "you have a crush on that grumpy old man, don't you?" She started to blush. "He's a nice man, and he's lonely." I looked at her. Her silver hair was pulled up in a bun, wisps of dark grey and white falling around her face in a tangled mess. She had a kind, healthy face, and the creases around her eyes were deep from years of smiling. Her bright green eyes looked misty and soft, and found myself looking at her and admiring what a beautiful woman she still was. Suddenly my mind flashed, and I saw my mother's eyes, not luminous and green but dingy, pale, and yellow. The life had been drained from them, and the skin on her face sagged across her bones. I gasped and took a step back. "Darling, what's the matter?" She asked. I shook my head, feeling fuzzy and disoriented. Everything was back to normal.
Just then I heard a knock on the door. "Oh that must be Mr. Lawrence, he's early!" she began fidgeting with her hair and doing her best to wipe the flour off her apron. "Get the door, will you sweetie?" I walked down the hall, glancing at the photos hanging on the dingy floral wallpaper. I have a lot of memories in this house. The time we pulled all the mattresses off the beds and made a slide down the stairway, having mud parties in Mom's flower beds, and the days when my Dad would unscrew the top of the fire hydrant so all the neighborhood kids could play in the water. I was smiling when I opened the door, but that faded immediately. Mr. Lawrence was standing there with a bouquet of wilted daisies. Seeing me he snarled "You again?" and quickly shoved the flowers into my hands. "Your mother wanted those. Tell her I'll be at home." Without another word he began to storm off toward his house. "Harold, wait!" She came dashing out the door with her hat and shawl pulled around her shoulders. "I'm here" she patted his arm reassuringly and slid her arm though his. Turning over her shoulder she waved at me. "You're still coming over for breakfast tomorrow, right? Be a dear and lock the front door for me!" She diverted her attention back to Mr. Lawrence and I watched as they walked off together down the tree lined street.
It was a quiet ride back to my home. I felt very alone, I couldn't stop thinking about Tracy. Arriving at my apartment I grabbed my keys and took the jeep out for a drive. The wind of the cooling evening air felt amazing and seemed to erase all my frustrations. I could smell fried food mixed with the hint of rain, and looked up at the clouds looming ominously overhead. The wind began to pick up and I felt a few drops of rain. I would have to be fast. Besides, if what I assumed was accurate, there wouldn't be much to look at.
Pulling into SafeT Storage I punched my code into the keypad and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel while the door slowly opened. I saw Lou's face peer out the office window and gave him a small wave. He snorted and turned away. Not the friendliest guy.
 |
| Each small supply was intact and undisturbed. At least I didn't everything, I thought optimistically. Approaching the large unit I held my breath as I opened the door. |
I checked one of the small storage units first. After finding everything removed from my apartment I expected the supplies we placed here to be gone as well. I crossed my fingers and turned the key in the lock... It opened. I pulled the heavy door ajar and saw cases of water bottles stacked to the ceiling. To the left were a few foldable chairs, and a temporary awning that could be used for shade or protection from rain. I began to be hopeful, and quickened my steps to the other units. Each of the supplies stored in the small units were intact and undisturbed. At least I didn't lose everything. Approaching the large unit I held my breath as I opened the door. There should only have been a pair of ATVs and some blankets, but as I slid the door upward I was greeted by piles and piles of supplies. Everything that was once in my apartment was here, well organized and safe. I smiled and thought of Tracy. She was the only one who could have done this, the only one who had the code, who knew where the keys were, and the location of this unit. My smile faded as I thought of our brief conversation yesterday at work. "Do I know you?" she had said innocently. "Because I think you have me confused with someone else." The words cut into me and I left defeated and downtrodden. She had been my confidant, my strength, and I had hoped she'd one day become more.
I walked through the unit, inspecting the various items and thinking of my next steps. I wish I could know what happened, or if there was a way to restore Tracy's memory, but I didn't have a clue where to begin. As I pulled the massive door closed I reached my hands in my pocket to grab the keys. My fingers brushed a card and I pulled it out to look at it. It was the card the officer had given me that I was pulled over. I wonder...
Punching his number into my phone, I tapped out the message "How do I cure a memory lapse?" and pressed send. A text came back almost immediately. "Who's memory?" I thought about it for a moment and then responded "A close friend" his reply came as I climbed into my jeep to leave. "You already have everything you need."
Chapter 19- Crisis Inverted
I was exhausted but couldn't sleep. My body was antsy, nervously twitching as though it wanted to get up and run. A side effect of the pain medication making my mind drowsy I assumed. I sat upright in bed, shaking my head to clear the fog. Fog. It felt so familiar, yet distant, like something in a dream. No, not a dream, a nightmare...
I pulled the covers off and inspected my bandage. The dark, almost black stain of congealed blood was hardened into the fibers of my dressing. Limping to the bathroom, I sat down and carefully removed the bandages with a pair of scissors I'd grabbed from the kitchen. Wincing as I slowly pulled the gauze off my skin, I tossed it into the trash and examined my injury for the first time. It was smaller than I imagined- only about half an inch wide but rather jagged. It must have been deep to cause this much pain. I touched it lightly, testing my tolerance. It seemed to be healing okay, and rubbing the muscle around the cut gave my leg some needed release. I pulled the plastic sleeve I'd received at the hospital over my thigh and sealed it against my leg with a few rubber bands. I was about to step into the shower when I heard a knock on my front door. Pulling a towel around my midsection I hobbled to answer it. A small package wrapped in brown paper lay on my doorstep. I picked it up and looked around. No one. The package was heavier than it looked, and something shifted around loosely inside. There was no address, no indication of who has left it. Normally I would not have thought anything of it, but my mind raced with possibilities tied to recent events.
I closed the door and pulled off the paper. A smooth yellow box with the letters VL were embossed next to the icon of a beaker. I opened the box and inside there was an expensive looking metal case. Flipping the latch I opened it slowly, revealing a hypodermic needle laying in a form of grey foam. The hypo was made of steel and glass, and filled with a yellow liquid that almost seemed to glow. There was no note, no card, nothing to indicate what this item was or who sent it.
Replacing the lid, I placed the box next to my work bag and quickly showered. After eating an overripe banana and stale muffin, I dressed and grabbed my phone off the charger. Carefully sliding the box into my bag, I headed out the door. Pressing the "Lock" button I heard the mechanical tumblers secure the door in place, followed by the feeling of the familiar buzz of a text message. Glancing at the screen of my phone I saw the words "System armed in Away mode" confirming my doors and window were automatically armed and my cameras and motion sensors activated. I wondered if they would register anything today, and laughed as I realized I was starting to talk like Jeff. I did my best to make light of the situation, because I knew the reality that seemed to be unfolding was much too terrifying to admit.
Walking slowly to the train station, I found myself glancing left and right, scanning the streets for signs of new attacks or distant observers. Each person walking by became a possible assailant, each one in the distance a silent observer. Regardless of my paranoia, my fellow commuters seemed normal, oblivious to the danger that seemed to be growing every day. How is that even possible? The media had to have picked up something. Finding a seat on the train, I pulled up the local news on my smartphone. There were deaths, accidents, all sorts of catastrophes, but each one seemed to be attributed to some natural cause or mechanical failure. There was no mention of any outbreaks, plagues, or unknown diseases. I checked twitter and performed a few quick searches for "Crazy" and "Attack" but all I found were the typical posts about mundane, unfulfilled lives.
I took the elevator today, with my leg still healing I knew walking up stairs would be painful and slow. I was later than usual, but didn't see Tracy at her desk. Jeff was wearing his headset, tapping away on his keyboard, but Dwayne stood up as I arrived. "Oh man, are you okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned. I hobbled to my desk and sat down, nodding my head and smiling a bit. "It's sore, but healing fast I think." I replied. "We heard what happened. Must have been really scary." Dwayne went on. "I mean, getting attacked like that. Wow." I turned to my computer and logged in. Checking e-mails, I tried to focus on catching up on what I'd missed the past few days, but found it almost impossible to focus. Between the aching in my thigh and the questions in my mind, I had a hard time seeing how any of the e-mails in my inbox held any relevance.
I wasn't thirsty, but walked over to the water cooler by the door of the Marketing department just to have a reason to get and move around. As I stretched my sore leg I glanced in the window of Will's office and saw Tracy sitting on the edge of his desk, laughing. "Is something wrong?" the deep, serious tone startled me, causing me to spill some of the water on my pants. I looked up to see Mr. Munn looming over me. He was several inches taller than I was, and his Oxford blue shirt was pulled tight over his considerably intimidating form. "Just getting some water." I replied nonchalantly. "And trying to catchup on my emails." He stared blankly for a moment and said "No doubt you'll see my meeting request for this afternoon then. Your calendar shows your schedule is free but you would be sure to let me know if you felt you had somewhere more important to be, right?" it sounded more like a threat than a question. I nodded and held my full water bottle up with a smile. "Cheers!" I said, and walked back to my desk.
Tracy wasn't in her office the entire morning, and when lunchtime came I saw her leaving with Will. "I though those two were done, why is she spending so much time with him?" Dwayne asked when he saw me watching them leave. I shrugged, pretending not to feel hurt. Jeff popped his headphones off and looked at me. "They got back together after that drunk beat you up in the alley," he said. "Kenzie heard her telling Will that she didn't want to be with a guy that couldn't even beat up a homeless person." He must have seen the shock on my face and retreated a bit. "Hey, that's just what I heard..." his voice trailed off. Something he said set off a warning bell in my mind. "Wait..." I limped over to Jeff's desk. "Did you say that I got beat up in an alley?" He nodded innocently. "But that's not what happened." I said defensively. "I was attacked in a restaurant." Dwayne shrugged. "That's just what we heard man. Restaurant, alley, whatever." As I grabbed my keys off my desk I caught Jeff staring at me. He immediately went back to his computer, acting busy.
I walked the 2 blocks to the restaurant where Tracy and I had eaten lunch together that day. It felt good to stretch my leg, but I was almost exhausted when I arrived. A hostess offered to seat me but instead I asked to talk to the Manager. As I waited I looked around. The scene replayed in my mind- the homeless man babbling in a confused tongue, how he grabbed that girl and shook her, how his back arched as the transformation began, and finally the look in those eyes, those dead, yellow eyes... "Can I help you?" a short, round faced man stood waiting next to the expectant hostess. "I'm looking for the Manager." I said matter of factly. "That's me. What can I do for you?" I looked over his shoulder towards the office marked "Employees only." "Sorry, I am looking for the one who was on shift this past Tuesday." He squirmed a bit as though nervous about something. "He no longer works here." He bit his lip and glanced around as though someone might have overheard him, and added "And there's nothing I can do about it." he turned to go and I grabbed his arm. He spun and looked at me, fear in his eyes. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked. He shook his head and pulled his arm away, escaping into the back room. I looked at the hostess, and asked how many different hostesses there were. "Not sure." she said. "It's my first day. Can I get you a table?" I declined and left the restaurant.
Back at the office, I sat at one end of the conference room which Mr. Munn was using as a temporary workspace. He was pouring over the report I had printed out on my departments productivity for the past few months. As I looked idly through the glass I saw Tracy walking by and gave her an eager little wave. She half waved back, looking awkward and confused. Mr. Munn looked sideways at her and immediately began asking me questions about my dept processes. I answered each without emotion or vast detail, eager for this little session to conclude. "Do you have somewhere you need to be?" he asked impatiently. "You keep looking at your watch and your foot has not stopped tapping since you arrived." He stared at me stoically, awaiting an explanation. I cooked up something I figured he couldn't argue with. "It's my leg. I'm in a lot of pain right now and need to take my meds." he seemed skeptical. "I'll look over this report thoroughly and get back to you." he said. "Expect to see a meeting request soon." I nodded and ducked out of the room as quickly as my temporary handicap could take me.
Making sure Mr. Munn wasn't looking, I ducked into Tracy's office and sat in her chair. "We have SO much to talk about" I panted. "Are you okay?" she stared at me confused and a little alarmed. Pushing her discomfort aside, I started to explain myself. "I woke up in the hospital, they said I had been unconscious for two days. My battery was dead and someone deleted your number from my phone." She looked alarmed. "Are you okay?" I repeated and reached out and touched her hand. She immediately withdrew, shocked by my behavior. "Do I know you?" she asked sincerely. "Because I think you have me confused with someone else."
I pulled the covers off and inspected my bandage. The dark, almost black stain of congealed blood was hardened into the fibers of my dressing. Limping to the bathroom, I sat down and carefully removed the bandages with a pair of scissors I'd grabbed from the kitchen. Wincing as I slowly pulled the gauze off my skin, I tossed it into the trash and examined my injury for the first time. It was smaller than I imagined- only about half an inch wide but rather jagged. It must have been deep to cause this much pain. I touched it lightly, testing my tolerance. It seemed to be healing okay, and rubbing the muscle around the cut gave my leg some needed release. I pulled the plastic sleeve I'd received at the hospital over my thigh and sealed it against my leg with a few rubber bands. I was about to step into the shower when I heard a knock on my front door. Pulling a towel around my midsection I hobbled to answer it. A small package wrapped in brown paper lay on my doorstep. I picked it up and looked around. No one. The package was heavier than it looked, and something shifted around loosely inside. There was no address, no indication of who has left it. Normally I would not have thought anything of it, but my mind raced with possibilities tied to recent events.
 |
| "I was about to step into the shower when I heard a knock on my front door. Pulling a towel around my midsection I hobbled to answer it. A small package wrapped in brown paper lay on my doorstep. I picked it up and looked around. No one." |
I closed the door and pulled off the paper. A smooth yellow box with the letters VL were embossed next to the icon of a beaker. I opened the box and inside there was an expensive looking metal case. Flipping the latch I opened it slowly, revealing a hypodermic needle laying in a form of grey foam. The hypo was made of steel and glass, and filled with a yellow liquid that almost seemed to glow. There was no note, no card, nothing to indicate what this item was or who sent it.
Replacing the lid, I placed the box next to my work bag and quickly showered. After eating an overripe banana and stale muffin, I dressed and grabbed my phone off the charger. Carefully sliding the box into my bag, I headed out the door. Pressing the "Lock" button I heard the mechanical tumblers secure the door in place, followed by the feeling of the familiar buzz of a text message. Glancing at the screen of my phone I saw the words "System armed in Away mode" confirming my doors and window were automatically armed and my cameras and motion sensors activated. I wondered if they would register anything today, and laughed as I realized I was starting to talk like Jeff. I did my best to make light of the situation, because I knew the reality that seemed to be unfolding was much too terrifying to admit.
Walking slowly to the train station, I found myself glancing left and right, scanning the streets for signs of new attacks or distant observers. Each person walking by became a possible assailant, each one in the distance a silent observer. Regardless of my paranoia, my fellow commuters seemed normal, oblivious to the danger that seemed to be growing every day. How is that even possible? The media had to have picked up something. Finding a seat on the train, I pulled up the local news on my smartphone. There were deaths, accidents, all sorts of catastrophes, but each one seemed to be attributed to some natural cause or mechanical failure. There was no mention of any outbreaks, plagues, or unknown diseases. I checked twitter and performed a few quick searches for "Crazy" and "Attack" but all I found were the typical posts about mundane, unfulfilled lives.
I took the elevator today, with my leg still healing I knew walking up stairs would be painful and slow. I was later than usual, but didn't see Tracy at her desk. Jeff was wearing his headset, tapping away on his keyboard, but Dwayne stood up as I arrived. "Oh man, are you okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned. I hobbled to my desk and sat down, nodding my head and smiling a bit. "It's sore, but healing fast I think." I replied. "We heard what happened. Must have been really scary." Dwayne went on. "I mean, getting attacked like that. Wow." I turned to my computer and logged in. Checking e-mails, I tried to focus on catching up on what I'd missed the past few days, but found it almost impossible to focus. Between the aching in my thigh and the questions in my mind, I had a hard time seeing how any of the e-mails in my inbox held any relevance.
I wasn't thirsty, but walked over to the water cooler by the door of the Marketing department just to have a reason to get and move around. As I stretched my sore leg I glanced in the window of Will's office and saw Tracy sitting on the edge of his desk, laughing. "Is something wrong?" the deep, serious tone startled me, causing me to spill some of the water on my pants. I looked up to see Mr. Munn looming over me. He was several inches taller than I was, and his Oxford blue shirt was pulled tight over his considerably intimidating form. "Just getting some water." I replied nonchalantly. "And trying to catchup on my emails." He stared blankly for a moment and said "No doubt you'll see my meeting request for this afternoon then. Your calendar shows your schedule is free but you would be sure to let me know if you felt you had somewhere more important to be, right?" it sounded more like a threat than a question. I nodded and held my full water bottle up with a smile. "Cheers!" I said, and walked back to my desk.
Tracy wasn't in her office the entire morning, and when lunchtime came I saw her leaving with Will. "I though those two were done, why is she spending so much time with him?" Dwayne asked when he saw me watching them leave. I shrugged, pretending not to feel hurt. Jeff popped his headphones off and looked at me. "They got back together after that drunk beat you up in the alley," he said. "Kenzie heard her telling Will that she didn't want to be with a guy that couldn't even beat up a homeless person." He must have seen the shock on my face and retreated a bit. "Hey, that's just what I heard..." his voice trailed off. Something he said set off a warning bell in my mind. "Wait..." I limped over to Jeff's desk. "Did you say that I got beat up in an alley?" He nodded innocently. "But that's not what happened." I said defensively. "I was attacked in a restaurant." Dwayne shrugged. "That's just what we heard man. Restaurant, alley, whatever." As I grabbed my keys off my desk I caught Jeff staring at me. He immediately went back to his computer, acting busy.
I walked the 2 blocks to the restaurant where Tracy and I had eaten lunch together that day. It felt good to stretch my leg, but I was almost exhausted when I arrived. A hostess offered to seat me but instead I asked to talk to the Manager. As I waited I looked around. The scene replayed in my mind- the homeless man babbling in a confused tongue, how he grabbed that girl and shook her, how his back arched as the transformation began, and finally the look in those eyes, those dead, yellow eyes... "Can I help you?" a short, round faced man stood waiting next to the expectant hostess. "I'm looking for the Manager." I said matter of factly. "That's me. What can I do for you?" I looked over his shoulder towards the office marked "Employees only." "Sorry, I am looking for the one who was on shift this past Tuesday." He squirmed a bit as though nervous about something. "He no longer works here." He bit his lip and glanced around as though someone might have overheard him, and added "And there's nothing I can do about it." he turned to go and I grabbed his arm. He spun and looked at me, fear in his eyes. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked. He shook his head and pulled his arm away, escaping into the back room. I looked at the hostess, and asked how many different hostesses there were. "Not sure." she said. "It's my first day. Can I get you a table?" I declined and left the restaurant.
Back at the office, I sat at one end of the conference room which Mr. Munn was using as a temporary workspace. He was pouring over the report I had printed out on my departments productivity for the past few months. As I looked idly through the glass I saw Tracy walking by and gave her an eager little wave. She half waved back, looking awkward and confused. Mr. Munn looked sideways at her and immediately began asking me questions about my dept processes. I answered each without emotion or vast detail, eager for this little session to conclude. "Do you have somewhere you need to be?" he asked impatiently. "You keep looking at your watch and your foot has not stopped tapping since you arrived." He stared at me stoically, awaiting an explanation. I cooked up something I figured he couldn't argue with. "It's my leg. I'm in a lot of pain right now and need to take my meds." he seemed skeptical. "I'll look over this report thoroughly and get back to you." he said. "Expect to see a meeting request soon." I nodded and ducked out of the room as quickly as my temporary handicap could take me.
Making sure Mr. Munn wasn't looking, I ducked into Tracy's office and sat in her chair. "We have SO much to talk about" I panted. "Are you okay?" she stared at me confused and a little alarmed. Pushing her discomfort aside, I started to explain myself. "I woke up in the hospital, they said I had been unconscious for two days. My battery was dead and someone deleted your number from my phone." She looked alarmed. "Are you okay?" I repeated and reached out and touched her hand. She immediately withdrew, shocked by my behavior. "Do I know you?" she asked sincerely. "Because I think you have me confused with someone else."
Chapter 18- Disorientation
I was released from the hospital with a prescription for pain medication, a contingent of extra bandages, and a prescription for some 800mg ibuprofen in a white bag with the hospital's logo. I laughed as I looked at it. Everyone's marketing themselves I guess.
I walked outside and noticed a steady rain coloring the entire world a dull grey. I held my little white plastic bag above my head, though it didn't do much. Limping to the edge of the sidewalk, my mother fussed at me, telling me I needed to wait under the awning while she went to get the car. "Don't catch a cold on top of everything else that's happened." She said. "And you don't walk on that leg more than you have to. Wait here."
I leaned against a pole, listening to the pittapat of rain drops. Looking down at the lump of bandages under my jeans, I realized I hadn't even seen the wound or knew what had cut me. I could feel the tinge of pain as my meds started to wear off and I rubbed the spot, wishing it away. Mom pulled up in her Cadillac and I climbed into the front seat. I looked out the passenger side window, silently watching the dripping streams course across the glass. A few people were out, walking with umbrellas or wearing ponchos. They moved slowly, methodically.
I glanced down at my phone, it's screen was blank. I wanted to call Tracy to make sure she was okay and ask her what happened afterwards, but my battery was dead. I spun it in my hands mindlessly and looked over at my mother. She was sitting on a large foam cushion, overtop of which was a beaded seat cover. Even with her seat fully erect she could barely see over the steering wheel, a problem that didn't seem to improve even though she wore her special "Driving glasses", a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles with sparkly plastic diamonds in the side that matched the cubic zirconium necklace she used to keep them around her neck when not in use.
We arrived at my home and leaned over and kissed my mother on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride mom." She attempted to make an argument to come "help me inside" but I refused, saying I didn't need the help, that I felt great. In reality I didn't want her to see the supplies I had piled all over the house.
Punching my code into the keypad located above the front door handle, I heard my security alarm disarm itself as I stepped inside the dark house. Something immediately felt wrong. There was a smell that I didn't recognize, like someone had cleaned using a chemical I was unfamiliar with. I had installed a home security and automation system a year ago, but never started using it until Lucas died that day. The blinds were shut and all the doors closed, so I could see very little. Knowing I'd trip over a case of olives or bang my injury on a yea/ supply of Nutella, I slid my hands along the wall, searching for the switch. I flipped on the light and gasped as I saw my living room, cleaner than I'd ever seen it. Fresh flowers graced the table, and there was no sign of any of the supplies we had been gathering over the past few weeks. Could Tracy have... The thought made me smile, but also confused me. I hadn't given her my security code, in fact no one knew that code but me. I limped into the bedroom and found my bed made meticulously, my closet perfectly organized. I plugged my phone into the charger next to the bedside table and went to my computer.
Logging into my alarm system online, I looked at my system history. I saw when I had armed my system that day before going to work, but didn't see any record of the alarm going off or anyone disarming the panel until just a few moments ago. I looked in my camera history, but no videos had been recorded during my absence. How had someone accomplished this? I went to my security panel and hit "Status" The panel chirped back in a happy female voice with a soft British accent: "System Tampered" Odd, my account didn't show any record of tampering, but if the panel recorded the tampering, maybe the local history did too. I tapped the setting icon and pulled up the history. Sure enough, the tamper occurred the same afternoon I was attacked, almost an hour after I would have lost consciousness. An image had been saved as well. I tapped the little camera icon and saw a picture of garbled static. Questions began racing through my mind "Why had a leg injury put me in a 2 day coma? Where was Tracy during all this? How could someone have emptied my place without setting off the alarm and who could have hacked my security account to erase the event? My spinning head was interrupted by the ding of a voicemail. I limped back into my bedroom and picked up my phone. Listening to the message, my eyes widened. "Hi, this is Marcie in HR. We haven't seen you in a few days, hope you're not sick or anything. If you'd like to submit some of your allotted sick time please give me a call or send me an email." I looked at the time stamp. This morning at 10:00am. How did they not know? Hadn't Tracy said anything to them? I remembered back to the accident in the intersection, where Tracy had first seen Mr. Munn. Didn't the person who was attacked by the crazed truck driver get carried away as well? What of they grabbed Tracy? A wave of panic and helplessness flowed through my veins. I pulled up my contact in the phone, scrolling to the "T" section. Tracy... Tracy... Nothing. Her number was gone. I searched my text message history. Also gone. Glanced through my inbox I looked for e-mails from her. Nothing... It was like she had been erased from my life completely.
I walked outside and noticed a steady rain coloring the entire world a dull grey. I held my little white plastic bag above my head, though it didn't do much. Limping to the edge of the sidewalk, my mother fussed at me, telling me I needed to wait under the awning while she went to get the car. "Don't catch a cold on top of everything else that's happened." She said. "And you don't walk on that leg more than you have to. Wait here."
I leaned against a pole, listening to the pittapat of rain drops. Looking down at the lump of bandages under my jeans, I realized I hadn't even seen the wound or knew what had cut me. I could feel the tinge of pain as my meds started to wear off and I rubbed the spot, wishing it away. Mom pulled up in her Cadillac and I climbed into the front seat. I looked out the passenger side window, silently watching the dripping streams course across the glass. A few people were out, walking with umbrellas or wearing ponchos. They moved slowly, methodically.
I glanced down at my phone, it's screen was blank. I wanted to call Tracy to make sure she was okay and ask her what happened afterwards, but my battery was dead. I spun it in my hands mindlessly and looked over at my mother. She was sitting on a large foam cushion, overtop of which was a beaded seat cover. Even with her seat fully erect she could barely see over the steering wheel, a problem that didn't seem to improve even though she wore her special "Driving glasses", a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles with sparkly plastic diamonds in the side that matched the cubic zirconium necklace she used to keep them around her neck when not in use.
We arrived at my home and leaned over and kissed my mother on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride mom." She attempted to make an argument to come "help me inside" but I refused, saying I didn't need the help, that I felt great. In reality I didn't want her to see the supplies I had piled all over the house.
 |
| "Punching my code into the keypad located above the front door handle, I heard my security alarm disarm itself as I stepped inside the dark house. Something immediately felt wrong." |
Logging into my alarm system online, I looked at my system history. I saw when I had armed my system that day before going to work, but didn't see any record of the alarm going off or anyone disarming the panel until just a few moments ago. I looked in my camera history, but no videos had been recorded during my absence. How had someone accomplished this? I went to my security panel and hit "Status" The panel chirped back in a happy female voice with a soft British accent: "System Tampered" Odd, my account didn't show any record of tampering, but if the panel recorded the tampering, maybe the local history did too. I tapped the setting icon and pulled up the history. Sure enough, the tamper occurred the same afternoon I was attacked, almost an hour after I would have lost consciousness. An image had been saved as well. I tapped the little camera icon and saw a picture of garbled static. Questions began racing through my mind "Why had a leg injury put me in a 2 day coma? Where was Tracy during all this? How could someone have emptied my place without setting off the alarm and who could have hacked my security account to erase the event? My spinning head was interrupted by the ding of a voicemail. I limped back into my bedroom and picked up my phone. Listening to the message, my eyes widened. "Hi, this is Marcie in HR. We haven't seen you in a few days, hope you're not sick or anything. If you'd like to submit some of your allotted sick time please give me a call or send me an email." I looked at the time stamp. This morning at 10:00am. How did they not know? Hadn't Tracy said anything to them? I remembered back to the accident in the intersection, where Tracy had first seen Mr. Munn. Didn't the person who was attacked by the crazed truck driver get carried away as well? What of they grabbed Tracy? A wave of panic and helplessness flowed through my veins. I pulled up my contact in the phone, scrolling to the "T" section. Tracy... Tracy... Nothing. Her number was gone. I searched my text message history. Also gone. Glanced through my inbox I looked for e-mails from her. Nothing... It was like she had been erased from my life completely.
Chapter 17- Fitful Dreams
I'm standing in front of a pair of large wrought iron gates. They loom over me like a doorway into darkness, and I back away from their rough, menacing appearance. Where am I and how did I get here? I remember hands around my throat, a throbbing pain in my leg, and... someone. Someone who saved me...
Its dark I feel myself start to slip. Looking behind me I see that I am standing on the edge of a massive, seemingly bottomless cliff. Cut off on the right and the left, there is no where to go but through the gates. Pensively, I take a step toward them. Thick fog surrounds me on all sides, and the air is cold and damp. I smell decaying leaves, dirt, and the hint of a campfire.
I approach the gate, placing my hand on the thick iron. A large latch holds the two sides together, and it grinds as I lift it up to open the gate. Despite its size the gate moves easily and silently, and I pass through cautiously. I can see the shapes of old twisted trees all around me, and the ground is soft beneath my feet, as though it had been recently turned. Beneath the trees there are shapes, unrecognizable from the fog blankets they wear. To my right I hear a crack and a low, quiet tearing sound, as though something is being detached. A putrid, disgusting smell fills my nose, and I watch in horror as a something begins to move in the mist a little ways off. It has the form of a man, and seems to be attempting to stand. It limps to an upright position, and begins shuffling towards me. I am frozen in fear. It's face is mildewed and rotten, and what little skin is left hangs gaunt, covered in pale, fleshy maggots. It's eyes are yellow and unfocused. The creature moves toward me blindly, driven by something other than sight or sound: something instinctive. Forcing myself to action I take a step back, and almost fall over a large tombstone looming up out of the fog. It is cold but the granite crumbles easily under my touch, as though the rock itself is decaying. The creature moves slowly but steadily toward me, and I place the tombstone between us, backing up carefully as the it struggles to navigate. Behind me I hear more movement, and turn to see another shape pulling itself up out of the mist. Its arm is hanging down loosely, as though it could easily be discarded. I move to the right, keeping both creatures where I can see them.
Looking around for something to defend myself, I approach the nearest tree. It's dark, knarly bark seems unnatural and is covered with bugs and old, wet cobwebs. The thin, sparse branches look underdeveloped and oddly deformed above the thick, wide trunk. I attempt to remove a limb but it holds fast, as though made of steel. The creatures advance on me slowly, and I grab a branch, pulling myself up into the tree. From this vantage point I can see more trees, and more shapes looming out of the fog, stumbling toward me. As the creatures gathered below me, I feel the ground shake and the tree slowly begins to sink into the soft dirt, bringing me closer and closer to the bony outreached hands.
In desperation I leap over the monsters and land on the soft dirt behind them. Getting up rapidly, I head for the silent gates and close them tight behind me, flipping the large metal latch down into place. Dozens of these nightmares move toward the gate, their rotten bodies reaching for me, desperately wanting to embrace me. They push against the bars and the gates hold fast. I watch as they are joined by dozens more.
I heard the crack of bones breaking as the pressure from those behind crush the skulls of those in front, the hard iron refusing to yield. Their eye sockets and broken jaws are dropping to the ground, yet their limbs keep coming, as though powered by some external force. Their collective weight is beginning to take it's toll, and the gate begins lurching. Harder and harder they push, their choking moans deafening in my ears. Suddenly, with the sound of wrenching metal the gate comes down, crashing toward me. I have no choice but to turn and jump off the edge into the abyss below...
I wake, bright light blinding me and the horrific smells gone. As my eyes adjust I see my mother standing next to my bed, talking to a man in a white labcoat. "Where am I?" I ask groggily. She looks relieved. "You're at the hospital. You've been unconscious for almost 2 days..."
Its dark I feel myself start to slip. Looking behind me I see that I am standing on the edge of a massive, seemingly bottomless cliff. Cut off on the right and the left, there is no where to go but through the gates. Pensively, I take a step toward them. Thick fog surrounds me on all sides, and the air is cold and damp. I smell decaying leaves, dirt, and the hint of a campfire.
 |
| "Forcing myself to action I take a step back, and almost fall over a large tombstone looming up out of the fog. It is cold but the granite crumbles easily under my touch, as though the rock itself is decaying." |
Looking around for something to defend myself, I approach the nearest tree. It's dark, knarly bark seems unnatural and is covered with bugs and old, wet cobwebs. The thin, sparse branches look underdeveloped and oddly deformed above the thick, wide trunk. I attempt to remove a limb but it holds fast, as though made of steel. The creatures advance on me slowly, and I grab a branch, pulling myself up into the tree. From this vantage point I can see more trees, and more shapes looming out of the fog, stumbling toward me. As the creatures gathered below me, I feel the ground shake and the tree slowly begins to sink into the soft dirt, bringing me closer and closer to the bony outreached hands.
In desperation I leap over the monsters and land on the soft dirt behind them. Getting up rapidly, I head for the silent gates and close them tight behind me, flipping the large metal latch down into place. Dozens of these nightmares move toward the gate, their rotten bodies reaching for me, desperately wanting to embrace me. They push against the bars and the gates hold fast. I watch as they are joined by dozens more.
I heard the crack of bones breaking as the pressure from those behind crush the skulls of those in front, the hard iron refusing to yield. Their eye sockets and broken jaws are dropping to the ground, yet their limbs keep coming, as though powered by some external force. Their collective weight is beginning to take it's toll, and the gate begins lurching. Harder and harder they push, their choking moans deafening in my ears. Suddenly, with the sound of wrenching metal the gate comes down, crashing toward me. I have no choice but to turn and jump off the edge into the abyss below...
I wake, bright light blinding me and the horrific smells gone. As my eyes adjust I see my mother standing next to my bed, talking to a man in a white labcoat. "Where am I?" I ask groggily. She looks relieved. "You're at the hospital. You've been unconscious for almost 2 days..."
Chapter 16- Transformation
"A lunch date still counts as a date, right?" Tracy asked playfully. She looked amazing in a light blue button down and pencil skirt. Her hair was down, but the top pulled back and tied behind her head. "Only if you let me pay" I said, handing the waiter my menu. I looked around the room. Being close to so many businesses this was a popular place for lunch, and with the exception of a few people in jeans, everyone was dressed business casual. I looked back at Tracy, who was taking a sip of her lemonade. "So... Keep plugging away tonight?" She asked. I nodded. "If you're willing, I am." We had been meeting at my place every night since Saturday, organizing and cataloging all the supplies. "You know one thing I think we're missing?" She asked. "Snacks. I think we were so focused on essentials that we forgot things like candy and snacks and stuff." I nodded in agreement. "We have those granola bars, but some chocolate would be good. I wonder what the shelf life is like?" Tracy shrugged. "If it's gonna go bad then I'll be happy to take care of it." She smiled.
Our casual conversation was interrupted by commotion at the front of the restaurant. A man was arguing with the hostess, growling in an almost unintelligible tone. He was tall with deep, dark skin, and dressed in rags. The way he moved and talked he seemed injured or inebriated. The hostess tried her best to prevent him from making a scene, but her inability to understand what he was saying seemed to frustrate him. Desperate, he grabbed her with both hands, mumbling and spitting as he shook her. She turned her head in fear, struggling to get away. Another man came racing from the back of the restaurant and identified himself as the Manager. Attempting to lead the man outside by the arm, he only succeeded in making him angry. Suddenly his back arched and he began to bellow as if in massive pain. Unsteady on his feet, he flopped onto a nearby table, spilling drinks and food onto the laps of the surprised customers. Pushing himself upright before collapsing again, he reached for the man closest to him, who backed away terrified. In the background the hostess was calling the authorities while the Manager tried to regain control of the situation.
Every eye in the building was on this growing inferno, and he paused, looking around the room as if pleading for someone to help him. Another dose of pain sent him into a rage, and the women screamed and men gasped as he slammed his head into a nearby wall over and over. The Manager looked helpless and took a step back to avoid getting injured.
I looked at Tracy and could tell she too could recognize the behavior. I moved cautiously toward the violent man, moving slowly to the left until I could see his eyes. I was within a few feet when he suddenly stopped, stood upright, and turned to me. He stared into my eyes. There was a mix of pain and sorrow in them, and his lips curled as if pleading for understanding. His sadness turned to confusion and then to fear. He looked down at himself as though he could sense something changing within him, and looked back into my eyes. He held my gaze and I watched in horror as the color drained out of his retinas. He stared at me blankly, all the emotion draining from his face... And then he attacked.
I heard Tracy scream as his body came smashing down on top of me, sending us both through a dividing wall and into the next room. Plates and glasses flew everywhere, crashing as they landed. Something sharp cut into my leg, and I felt his hands wrapping around my neck. Suddenly his weight doubled and I saw Tracy on his back, grabbing at his head. Her knee was planted firmly in the back of back of his neck and she pulled up and to the left. Hearing a "pop" he dropped on top of me, unmoving. I felt lightheaded and dizzy, and as I saw Tracy stand above me everything faded to black.
 | |
|
Every eye in the building was on this growing inferno, and he paused, looking around the room as if pleading for someone to help him. Another dose of pain sent him into a rage, and the women screamed and men gasped as he slammed his head into a nearby wall over and over. The Manager looked helpless and took a step back to avoid getting injured.
 |
| "He looked down at himself as though he could sense something changing within him, and looked back into my eyes. He held my gaze and I watched in horror as the color drained out of his retinas." |
I heard Tracy scream as his body came smashing down on top of me, sending us both through a dividing wall and into the next room. Plates and glasses flew everywhere, crashing as they landed. Something sharp cut into my leg, and I felt his hands wrapping around my neck. Suddenly his weight doubled and I saw Tracy on his back, grabbing at his head. Her knee was planted firmly in the back of back of his neck and she pulled up and to the left. Hearing a "pop" he dropped on top of me, unmoving. I felt lightheaded and dizzy, and as I saw Tracy stand above me everything faded to black.
Chapter 15- Munn-day
"At what point do we stop coming to work?" Tracy asked. "I mean, it's getting worse, right? Is this the end of everything?" I could tell she was still pretty shaken from yesterday's encounter. "That's getting a little apocalyptic for a Monday don't you think?" She sank into the chair next to my desk. "I think the worst part is not knowing. If I knew it was caused by dirty spoons, I'd avoid silverware. If it was from not washing your hands..." she pulled a massive bottle of hand sanitizer out of her purse. "Good grief!" I said in shock. "Isn't that heavy?" She laughed. "I didn't have anything smaller so I grabbed it out of our Costco stash yesterday. You can't be too safe." she squirted a glob into her palm and then rubbed her hands together, looking at me expectantly. I smiled and took and handful. "I just wish I knew." she sighed. "It's scary feeling like it could be anyone. I mean, first Lucas goes nuts in a closet, then that truck driver, now your neighbor..." Jeff stuck his head over the wall. "Your neighbor turned into a Zombie? What happened? Did he try to eat your brain?" Tracy smacked him in the nose with a folder from off my desk. "Ow!" he played, rubbing his nose. "Seriously though, who tried to eat your brain? Wait... did you get bitten?" he started rifling his hands through Tracy's hair as though looking for an injury. She smacked his hand away and stood up, backing away. "Get off me!" Dwayne, seeing the commotion came over "Someone tried to eat your brain? Who was it?" Tracy and I looked at each other, knowing that this would only get worse unless we gave them something. "I was on my way back home from renting a storage unit. Tracy was waiting for me at my house in the moving truck and..." I saw Tracy hesitate and suddenly realized what I just implied. My mind raced. I didn't want to reveal the preparations we were making, the massive amount of supplies we had purchased together, or the locations where we would be storing these supplies in case of an actual outbreak, but I also didn't want to imply that Tracy and I were a couple, at least not until we actually were, which I was hoping might happen soon but which I couldn't say out loud. My mind started racing and I started feeling trapped and embarrassed. "Everyone! Conference room now!" the managers called out. Jeff and Dwayne looked cheated as they filed obediently to the glass room in the center of the office.
The conference room was long and thin, all glass walls and a single whiteboard which could be used as a projector screen opposite the door. As we filed in we saw a man in a stiff black suit standing in the back of the room. He had a stern, calculating look on his face, and seemed to be evaluating us as we entered. I sat down next to Tracy and whispered "Sorry about that. I really didn't mean to imply that we were moving in together. I'll clear it up after the meeting." I promised. Tracy smiled knowingly and patted me on the knee. "No, I'll take care of it. You just stay focused on the plan." She was beginning to sound like the brains of our little operation, and that was okay by me.
The managers all seemed overly cheerful, as though they felt obligated to "pump us up" after last week's fiasco. It seemed so long ago that Lucas dropped dead not 20 feet from this room. Hopefully someone will help us understand what happened last week, and what's being done to keep us all safe. "Hope everyone had a good weekend. Anyone do anything fun?" I glanced at Tracy and realized that Jeff was watching me. "Just keep digging the hole there bucko." Tracy whispered without looking at me.
The managers made a few announcements and then pulled up some commercial the Marketing team had just completed. As everyone watched, I looked at the man in the suit. He seemed to have no interest in the film, was intensely focused on the people in the room. After the film and some weak applause, one of the Managers directed our attention to the stranger.
"You've probably noticed that we've been joined by a corporate representative- Mr Munn." He gestured toward the stranger in the suit. The man made an attempt to smile and wave but it came across like he'd just crapped in his pants and didn't want us to know. He seemed awkward and uncomfortable with the attention, and backed up into the corner even more. "Mr. Munn will be meeting with each of the department heads this week. Please make sure your calendars are updated and accommodate any requests he might have." The manager was about to conclude the meeting when Tracy's hand shot up. "What's he doing here?" The Managers all looked at each other nervously. Mr. Munn stepped out of the shadows with an ominous grin, his eyes focused on Tracy like a predator about to pounce. "Efficiency expert Ms. Ramirez. I'll be making sure you are leading your department according to policy and that your processes are airtight." Tracy didn't back down or seem intimidated. "And if you find inefficiencies I assume you'll be on hand to assist us in improving them?" She asked boldly, looking directly in his eyes. One of the Managers interrupted "We'll all work together, synergizing as a team!" The managers urged everyone back to their desks but Tracy kept her eyes locked on Mr. Munn, not backing down at all. Mr. Munn looked wickedly at Tracy, as though he was simply waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
"What was THAT about?" I asked when we got back to Tracy's desk. "Mr. Munn- I think I've seen him before." she said pensively. "And he's NOT from corporate." She drummed her pen on the desk, nervously looking in the direction of the conference room. "I can see those wheels turning" I said. "Who is he? Where have you seen him?" She hesitated and looked me in the eyes. "I can't be sure, but I think he was one of the guys in the white labcoats from the the other day. The ones who carried away the truck driver."
The conference room was long and thin, all glass walls and a single whiteboard which could be used as a projector screen opposite the door. As we filed in we saw a man in a stiff black suit standing in the back of the room. He had a stern, calculating look on his face, and seemed to be evaluating us as we entered. I sat down next to Tracy and whispered "Sorry about that. I really didn't mean to imply that we were moving in together. I'll clear it up after the meeting." I promised. Tracy smiled knowingly and patted me on the knee. "No, I'll take care of it. You just stay focused on the plan." She was beginning to sound like the brains of our little operation, and that was okay by me.
The managers all seemed overly cheerful, as though they felt obligated to "pump us up" after last week's fiasco. It seemed so long ago that Lucas dropped dead not 20 feet from this room. Hopefully someone will help us understand what happened last week, and what's being done to keep us all safe. "Hope everyone had a good weekend. Anyone do anything fun?" I glanced at Tracy and realized that Jeff was watching me. "Just keep digging the hole there bucko." Tracy whispered without looking at me.
The managers made a few announcements and then pulled up some commercial the Marketing team had just completed. As everyone watched, I looked at the man in the suit. He seemed to have no interest in the film, was intensely focused on the people in the room. After the film and some weak applause, one of the Managers directed our attention to the stranger.
"You've probably noticed that we've been joined by a corporate representative- Mr Munn." He gestured toward the stranger in the suit. The man made an attempt to smile and wave but it came across like he'd just crapped in his pants and didn't want us to know. He seemed awkward and uncomfortable with the attention, and backed up into the corner even more. "Mr. Munn will be meeting with each of the department heads this week. Please make sure your calendars are updated and accommodate any requests he might have." The manager was about to conclude the meeting when Tracy's hand shot up. "What's he doing here?" The Managers all looked at each other nervously. Mr. Munn stepped out of the shadows with an ominous grin, his eyes focused on Tracy like a predator about to pounce. "Efficiency expert Ms. Ramirez. I'll be making sure you are leading your department according to policy and that your processes are airtight." Tracy didn't back down or seem intimidated. "And if you find inefficiencies I assume you'll be on hand to assist us in improving them?" She asked boldly, looking directly in his eyes. One of the Managers interrupted "We'll all work together, synergizing as a team!" The managers urged everyone back to their desks but Tracy kept her eyes locked on Mr. Munn, not backing down at all. Mr. Munn looked wickedly at Tracy, as though he was simply waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
"What was THAT about?" I asked when we got back to Tracy's desk. "Mr. Munn- I think I've seen him before." she said pensively. "And he's NOT from corporate." She drummed her pen on the desk, nervously looking in the direction of the conference room. "I can see those wheels turning" I said. "Who is he? Where have you seen him?" She hesitated and looked me in the eyes. "I can't be sure, but I think he was one of the guys in the white labcoats from the the other day. The ones who carried away the truck driver."
Chapter 14- Neighborhood Watch
BANG! The sound echoed in my ears, urging me out of sleep.
BANG! My eyes burst open, blinking from the bright morning sun.
BANG! I rubbed my eyes, disoriented, looking around at the piles of boxes, cans, and bottles surrounding my bed. I searched for the source of the sound, realizing groggily that it was coming from outside.
BANG! I flipped my feet over the side of the bed, banging my toe on a case of canned chicken. "Not a lot of room to walk, is there?" I mumbled to myself. BANG! Pulling my jeans on I scuffled to the window, opening the door out onto the balcony. Below a man was hitting the bumper of a car with a sledgehammer. BANG! With each hit the bumper twisted outward and began curving down. "Hey, Jack! What's going on?" I called down. "Isn't it a little early on a Sunday morning to be playing Thor?" The man stopped swinging and looked up at me. His eye was swollen and black, and dried blood mottled his face. "Whoa- what happened to you?" I asked in alarm. Do you need me to call an ambulance?" He stared at me for a moment, as though processing what I had said. "No." he replied simply, and turned back to his hammer. BANG! Something about the way he looked at me was chilling. Like he was missing his soul. I closed the door and returned to my room, weaving between tall boxes of supplies and various cases of food to get to my closet. Pulling on a shirt, I looked through my bedroom door into the living room. Even larger piles of boxes were stacked everywhere. I laughed to myself. It might look like Costco had thrown up in my apartment, but it was very exciting, and this was just the first step.
Pulling out of the garage, I glanced toward my neighbor's house. He was gone, his hammer leaning up against the bumper. Perhaps he went to the hospital after all. I resisted the urge to check on him and turned right. Typing "Storage" into my phone's map I watched as several pins dropped around my location. Tapping the closest one I selected "directions to here" and proceeded on my course. At a red light I texted Tracy "Checking out storage units. You okay?" and looked back at the intersection, waiting for the light. A text popped in from Tracy "Yep- renting the truck. Be there soon."
I pulled into "Safe T. Storage" and looked at the front door. Posted hours stated they didn't open for another 10 minutes, so I parked in an open slot and got out to look around. A gate made of thick steel sealed off the entrance to the storage area. It opened by a chain driven electric motor that sat out in the open. Rows and rows of storage units made long, wide alleyways, and the entire compound was almost like a massive metal maze.
A few hundred feet away I saw a man sweeping. He stopped and looked in my direction, and I gave a friendly wave. "Good morning!" I called out, trying to sound unthreatening and cheerful. "I wanted to rent one of your units!" He stared for a moment and then disappeared behind a row of units. As I waited I took a closer look at the units. No windows, sturdy doors. I reached through the bars to knock on the closest one. It felt solid and I heard a faint echo.
Behind me I heard the office door open. I turned to see an old man wearing grey striped coveralls stated at me. His name was stitched into a patch on his chest. "Hey there Lou, I've got a few questions about your storage units." Lou invited me into the office and sat down behind a small desk. He looked at me expectantly. "Well?" he grunted. I sat down and attempted to get comfortable. "That gate out there is powered by that motor, but it looks like it would be easy enough to break it. If the engine is damaged will the gate open or will it stay sealed?" Lou eyed me suspiciously and didn't respond. I could see I needed to clarify. "If I want to store my belongings here I'd like to know the place is secure. That was the first thing I noticed." he seemed satisfied with that explanation. "I'd also like to inspect the security on the units themselves. If everything checks out I'll need two of your largest units, preferably side by side, as well as several of your smaller units throughout this facility." I could feel a change in his attitude now that I seemed like a serious customer.
I climbed into the Jeep and called Tracy. "Hey, I just rented the storage units, and I'm heading back now. Where are you?" There was a momentary pause. "I'm already here, but..." I heard a BANG in the background. "Is that my neighbor Jack banging on his bumper again?" I asked. "He woke me up with that noise." Tracy sounded very nervous. "It's really creepy" she said. "He's been mindlessly hitting that car for 15 minutes. No pause, no rest, no change in the way he's swinging that hammer." I remembered last week and the banging in the closet before Lucas died. "Tracy, I'm on my way- are you safe?" I pushed on my accelerator as I drove. "I'm sitting in the truck, but I don't think he knows I'm here." Suddenly a car engine started in the background. "A neighbor is pulling out of their garage... Oh no," Tracy sounded worried. "He's stopped moving. He's just standing there with his back to me. He's turning... He's looking at me now. What happened to his face?!" I heard her scream in terror. Panic mixed with helplessness filled my veins. "Tracy, get out of there- RUN!" I yelled. All I could hear was her screams, followed by an ear-splitting crash and then the phone call dropped. "Tracy!" I called out.
I ran the light and jumped the curb, cutting into the alley behind my house. The truck was there, the driver's side window smashed to pieces. I slammed on my brakes and climbed up onto the truck, looking inside the cab. "Tracy! Tracy!!" I called out, but no reply. The passenger door was open, and I grabbed my baseball bat and ran around the opposite side of the truck. The space between the truck and the wall was very narrow, and I had to turn sideways to fit through. No room to swing my bat, I thought. As I shuffled through I felt a hand grab my calf. I looked down and saw Tracy with her finger to her lips, urging me to be quiet. I slid down until I could join her under the truck, and she pointed over to my neighbor's home. The front door opened and I saw slow footsteps approach the car. BANG! He must be hitting the bumper again. BANG! I motioned to Tracy to slowly back up. We crawled out the rear, keeping our eyes fixed ahead. BANG! We stood slowly, peering around the corner of the truck where Jack was slowly and methodically pounding his car. BANG! I pulled out my phone and began to record. BANG! The video captured his repetitive, pointless effort. BANG! I wanted to see his face. BANG! I remembered how quickly Lucas moved and the sheer strength it must have taken to break that closet door. BANG! I remembered the weight of his body as he fell on me and his dead, yellow eyes. BANG! I couldn't wait any longer. I had to know. "Jack!" I called out. Mid swing he stopped, as if frozen. "Jack, it's me. Is everything all right?" Nervous, my hand started to shake and I struggled to keep the recording steady. Without warning, Jack turned and charged toward me. I dove out of the way and he slamming into the hood of the truck violently. Tracy screamed as his body dropped to the ground with a sickening splat. I approached him slowly, cautiously, keeping my camera focused on his head. Using my foot I nudged him. His shoulder flopped but he didn't move. I flipped him over and my worst fears were confirmed. Yellow eyes.
BANG! My eyes burst open, blinking from the bright morning sun.
BANG! I rubbed my eyes, disoriented, looking around at the piles of boxes, cans, and bottles surrounding my bed. I searched for the source of the sound, realizing groggily that it was coming from outside.
BANG! I flipped my feet over the side of the bed, banging my toe on a case of canned chicken. "Not a lot of room to walk, is there?" I mumbled to myself. BANG! Pulling my jeans on I scuffled to the window, opening the door out onto the balcony. Below a man was hitting the bumper of a car with a sledgehammer. BANG! With each hit the bumper twisted outward and began curving down. "Hey, Jack! What's going on?" I called down. "Isn't it a little early on a Sunday morning to be playing Thor?" The man stopped swinging and looked up at me. His eye was swollen and black, and dried blood mottled his face. "Whoa- what happened to you?" I asked in alarm. Do you need me to call an ambulance?" He stared at me for a moment, as though processing what I had said. "No." he replied simply, and turned back to his hammer. BANG! Something about the way he looked at me was chilling. Like he was missing his soul. I closed the door and returned to my room, weaving between tall boxes of supplies and various cases of food to get to my closet. Pulling on a shirt, I looked through my bedroom door into the living room. Even larger piles of boxes were stacked everywhere. I laughed to myself. It might look like Costco had thrown up in my apartment, but it was very exciting, and this was just the first step.
 |
| a man was hitting the bumper of a car with a sledgehammer. BANG! With each hit the bumper twisted outward and began curving down. "Hey, Jack! What's going on?" I called down. "Isn't it a little early on a Sunday morning to be playing Thor?" |
Pulling out of the garage, I glanced toward my neighbor's house. He was gone, his hammer leaning up against the bumper. Perhaps he went to the hospital after all. I resisted the urge to check on him and turned right. Typing "Storage" into my phone's map I watched as several pins dropped around my location. Tapping the closest one I selected "directions to here" and proceeded on my course. At a red light I texted Tracy "Checking out storage units. You okay?" and looked back at the intersection, waiting for the light. A text popped in from Tracy "Yep- renting the truck. Be there soon."
I pulled into "Safe T. Storage" and looked at the front door. Posted hours stated they didn't open for another 10 minutes, so I parked in an open slot and got out to look around. A gate made of thick steel sealed off the entrance to the storage area. It opened by a chain driven electric motor that sat out in the open. Rows and rows of storage units made long, wide alleyways, and the entire compound was almost like a massive metal maze.
A few hundred feet away I saw a man sweeping. He stopped and looked in my direction, and I gave a friendly wave. "Good morning!" I called out, trying to sound unthreatening and cheerful. "I wanted to rent one of your units!" He stared for a moment and then disappeared behind a row of units. As I waited I took a closer look at the units. No windows, sturdy doors. I reached through the bars to knock on the closest one. It felt solid and I heard a faint echo.
Behind me I heard the office door open. I turned to see an old man wearing grey striped coveralls stated at me. His name was stitched into a patch on his chest. "Hey there Lou, I've got a few questions about your storage units." Lou invited me into the office and sat down behind a small desk. He looked at me expectantly. "Well?" he grunted. I sat down and attempted to get comfortable. "That gate out there is powered by that motor, but it looks like it would be easy enough to break it. If the engine is damaged will the gate open or will it stay sealed?" Lou eyed me suspiciously and didn't respond. I could see I needed to clarify. "If I want to store my belongings here I'd like to know the place is secure. That was the first thing I noticed." he seemed satisfied with that explanation. "I'd also like to inspect the security on the units themselves. If everything checks out I'll need two of your largest units, preferably side by side, as well as several of your smaller units throughout this facility." I could feel a change in his attitude now that I seemed like a serious customer.
I climbed into the Jeep and called Tracy. "Hey, I just rented the storage units, and I'm heading back now. Where are you?" There was a momentary pause. "I'm already here, but..." I heard a BANG in the background. "Is that my neighbor Jack banging on his bumper again?" I asked. "He woke me up with that noise." Tracy sounded very nervous. "It's really creepy" she said. "He's been mindlessly hitting that car for 15 minutes. No pause, no rest, no change in the way he's swinging that hammer." I remembered last week and the banging in the closet before Lucas died. "Tracy, I'm on my way- are you safe?" I pushed on my accelerator as I drove. "I'm sitting in the truck, but I don't think he knows I'm here." Suddenly a car engine started in the background. "A neighbor is pulling out of their garage... Oh no," Tracy sounded worried. "He's stopped moving. He's just standing there with his back to me. He's turning... He's looking at me now. What happened to his face?!" I heard her scream in terror. Panic mixed with helplessness filled my veins. "Tracy, get out of there- RUN!" I yelled. All I could hear was her screams, followed by an ear-splitting crash and then the phone call dropped. "Tracy!" I called out.
I ran the light and jumped the curb, cutting into the alley behind my house. The truck was there, the driver's side window smashed to pieces. I slammed on my brakes and climbed up onto the truck, looking inside the cab. "Tracy! Tracy!!" I called out, but no reply. The passenger door was open, and I grabbed my baseball bat and ran around the opposite side of the truck. The space between the truck and the wall was very narrow, and I had to turn sideways to fit through. No room to swing my bat, I thought. As I shuffled through I felt a hand grab my calf. I looked down and saw Tracy with her finger to her lips, urging me to be quiet. I slid down until I could join her under the truck, and she pointed over to my neighbor's home. The front door opened and I saw slow footsteps approach the car. BANG! He must be hitting the bumper again. BANG! I motioned to Tracy to slowly back up. We crawled out the rear, keeping our eyes fixed ahead. BANG! We stood slowly, peering around the corner of the truck where Jack was slowly and methodically pounding his car. BANG! I pulled out my phone and began to record. BANG! The video captured his repetitive, pointless effort. BANG! I wanted to see his face. BANG! I remembered how quickly Lucas moved and the sheer strength it must have taken to break that closet door. BANG! I remembered the weight of his body as he fell on me and his dead, yellow eyes. BANG! I couldn't wait any longer. I had to know. "Jack!" I called out. Mid swing he stopped, as if frozen. "Jack, it's me. Is everything all right?" Nervous, my hand started to shake and I struggled to keep the recording steady. Without warning, Jack turned and charged toward me. I dove out of the way and he slamming into the hood of the truck violently. Tracy screamed as his body dropped to the ground with a sickening splat. I approached him slowly, cautiously, keeping my camera focused on his head. Using my foot I nudged him. His shoulder flopped but he didn't move. I flipped him over and my worst fears were confirmed. Yellow eyes.
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