Apocalypsis: Book 3 (Exodus) (38 page)

“Yeah,” said Jamal, smacking his brother on the chest with his slipper.  “Good times.”

Ronald lifted an eyebrow, acting like he was going to hit his brother again, but at the last second he reached over and smacked Winky with it on the chest.  “Ooops.  I missed.”

“He’s got really bad aim,” Jamal said, looking down at Winky.

She frowned and then smacked them both in quick succession.  “Oops!  I missed too!”  She stood there, staring them down, hands on her hips, a slipper sticking out on each side.

Ronald and Jamal exchanged evil looks and turned to face her.

Winky must have realized she was out-numbered because she lifted her slippers up and made the sign of the cross with them, holding them up in their faces.  “Back off!  I have a bad nose, you guys!  Seriously!”  She backed up until her legs ran into a desk.

They ignored her pleas, going after her to give her a few smacks on the butt with their slippers, while she cowered behind her arms that she’d wrapped around her head, trying to protect her face.  Gretchen and Bianca joined the fray, encouraging Winky to fight back.  She came out of her little shell and started whirling her slippers around like a ninja with nun-chucks.

I decided I was better off leaving the room before I got smacked myself, so I dragged Bodo out with me and into the hallway.

“Dat’s a good idea, Bryn.  Let’s go hide.”

“I just don’t want to get hit.  Let’s keep exploring.”

We found three more storage rooms with various supplies in them, but the one at the end of this section of hallway with the heaviest door and most complicated locks was the jackpot.

“Holy cannolis,” I said, sweeping my eyes across the room, taking in all the rows and rows of rifles and handguns.  There were even some machine guns mixed in, and bats and tasers.  It was a prisoner’s worst nightmare.

“I guess we don’t have to worry about da guns anymore,” said Bodo, walking over and rubbing his hand up the side of one of them.  “Dey look brand new.”

“I’m sure they cleaned them regularly,” I said, wandering down the aisle, looking at all the rows of firepower.  “There’s even smoke bomb things here I think.  I wonder if they’re tear gas.”

“Dis is pepper spray,” said Bodo, holding up a cannister.  “Dare’s boxes of dem.”

“Sweet.”  I came back to Bodo, taking his hand.  “Come on, let’s go show the others.”

“Not so fast,” he said, pulling me up against him.  “All dis stuff makes me want to kiss you.”  He leaned down and kissed me gently on the mouth.

“I’m not sure whether to be turned on or worried, Bodo,” I said, staring at his mouth and then his eyes.  He wasn’t joking anymore, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.  Before I could protest he kissed me again, only this time, he didn’t pull away.

He pulled me against him, putting both hands on my butt and pressing himself against me.  We both moaned at the same time.  It’d been so long since we’d had any private time together, and I’d replayed our few intimate moments over and over in my mind until I had them like a movie reel I could call up before I fell asleep at night.  But nothing compared to the real heat and heart palpitating excitement that he generated five seconds after touching me.

“Bodo, we can’t,” I said against his mouth.

“Chust let me touch you one time,” he said, putting his hand up my shirt, squeezing my breast.

I tried not to be embarrassed about what I wanted to do with him now, even with our friends just down the hall.  He made me want to tear both our clothes off and mess around on the floor.  I was hot and oblivious to anything but his body and how it felt to be with him.

Voices came from outside the door.

“Where’d they get to?” said Jamal.  “They were just with us.”

“Maybe they’re doing it,” said Winky.

“Shut up, Winky!” laughed Gretchen.  “How old are you, anyway?”

I pulled away from Bodo and pressed down on my hair, trying to neaten it up.  I smoothed my wrinkled shirt down and pulled my shorts out of my butt crack, clearing my throat.

“We’re in here!  Come see all the guns!”  I looked down and noticed a bulge in Bodo’s shorts.  “Turn around!” I whispered.  “Geez!”

“What?” he said, looking down at himself.  “Dat’s normal.  Dat’s not a problem.”  He looked up at me.  “Are you embarrassed?”  He was smiling at me, enjoying my discomfort.

“Yes!  Now turn around and act busy!”

Bodo did as I asked, picking a gun up off the rack and sighting down the barrel, aiming at the wall, facing away from our friends.  

I stepped towards the entrance to meet them, just as they were coming out of the hallway and into the room.

“What were you guys doing in here?” asked Winky, her voice full of suggestion.

“Holy you-know-what,” said Jamal.  “Would you look at all the guns?”

“Crazy,” said Ronald, shaking his head.  “We won’t need to find guns ever again.”

“Where’s the ammo?” asked Bianca.  “Guns don’t mean crud without bullets.”

“Over there,” I said, gesturing to locked cabinets lining the side of the room.  “There’s tear gas or smoke bombs, I’m not sure which, pepper spray, pistols, rifles, you name it.  Anything you need to quell a riot.  They even have shields and bullet proof vests and helmets and crap.”

“I guess we’re all set, then,” said Ronald.  He walked over to the door.  “Anyone else ready to head back?”

We followed him to the door.

“Should we take any of this with us?” asked Gretchen.

“If you want,” I said.  “Couldn’t hurt.”

I was walking out the door when I heard a rifle being cocked and Gretchen’s voice behind me, all humor gone from it.

“Stop right there.  Before I blow a hole in your back.”

My heart plummeted and I froze in place with all my friends in the doorway.  I put my hands up in surrender and turned around slowly, expecting to see a couple of lunatic canners who’d pretended to be girls in distress, ready now to fill me full of bullets.

Gretchen and Bianca were standing there, both of them pointing rifles at us, looking dead serious.  For about five seconds they stayed that way before they both collapsed in giggles, falling into each other and crossing their legs.

“Ohshit, ohshit, ohshit,” said Bianca, laughing hysterically.  “I’m gonna pee myself!”

“That was … that was … aaahhhh, God, that was awesome!” said Gretchen, also laughing like a maniac.  “We really had you going there, didn’t we?”  Tears were coming up in her eyes as she hooted away.

I breathed out a sigh of relief and put my open hand back over my shoulder.  “Someone give me a slipper.”

Winky slapped one in my hand, and we all advanced on them, taking about five minutes to beat the crap out of them with prisoner shoes, while they laughed and laughed and laughed the entire time.

***

We made our way back to the front lobby, all of us exhausted from the immediate overdose of adrenaline caused by canner-fakers, followed by the hysterical laughter associated with a sound slipper beating.  We’d almost gotten to the lobby when the door burst open and Jenny came stumbling through.

Gretchen and Bianca ran ahead to catch her as she fell, dropping their rifles in the process.

“What’s wrong, Jenny?” asked Bianca.

“You have to come.  Quickly,” she said, totally out of breath.

We all rushed down the hallway, going as fast as we possibly could.  Jamal got there first and grabbed the door, pulling it open for all of us to run through.  My mind raced, coming up with all the terrible things that could have inspired Jenny to get up and run as fast as she apparently had. 
Canners?  Sweepers?  Murderers?
  I rounded the corner and my eyes fell on Peter.  He was crouched down by the lobby desk, using the bushes outside as his shield.

He saw me coming and waved me away.  He put his finger to his lips and pointed out the front windows.

I held out my arms to keep anyone from going by me.  “Shhhh, you guys.  Calm down.  Someone’s outside,” I whispered.

“Who is it?” asked Ronald.

“How am I supposed to know?” I whispered back, frowning back at him. “I can’t see around corners.”

“Are they inside?” asked Winky.

“I don’t think so.  But Peter can see them.”

“Why are we whispering?” asked Bodo.

“Peter!” I whisper-yelled.  “Are they inside?”

He shook his head.

“Can I talk normally, then?” I asked in a regular tone of voice.

“Yes, I guess,” he said.

I shook my head, laughing a little.  We were the worst military commandos of all time.  “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s at the gate.  I can’t see who it is.  I’m afraid to stand up.”

“Do they have any guns?” asked Ronald.

“Be right back!” said Winky, pushing off my back and running down the hallway we’d just come from.

“Where’s she going?” asked Jamal.

“Who knows?  Maybe she’s going to get some slippers so she can beat them to death,” said Ronald.

“Peter, I’m coming over,” I said.

“No!  Then they’ll know we’re in here.”

“Don’t you think they already know that?” I asked.

“Why would dey know dat?” asked Bodo.

“It’s kind of coincidental, isn’t it?  That we get here and one day later someone else is here.  I mean, we told about a hundred people where we were going.”

“Uhhh, we might also have told about hundred people ourselves,” said Ronald, sounding guilty.

“Make that about three hundred,” said Jamal.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said.  “We need to let people know we’re here and that we’re not afraid to defend our home.”  I raised my voice.  “Peter, I’m coming over.  Cover me!”

He looked at me fearfully for a second and then stood up into a half crouch, his gun up and shaking, pointed at the glass.

I ran as fast as I could being bent over, skidding to a stop next to him.

“No shots fired,” I said breathlessly.  The adrenaline was making it harder to breathe than it should have been.

“Nope.  They’re not doing anything.”

I stood up halfway and looked over at the front gate.  “They don’t look very threatening.”

“No.  But that doesn’t mean crap,” said Peter, his gun still up and pointed at them.

Winky came running through the hallway door and didn’t stop until she was next to us.  She was carrying a giant plexiglass shield and wearing a helmet that was about three sizes too big for her.  She tipped her head back so she could see me from under the brim.  “I’m ready to go out and meet them.”

“Give me that, you fool,” I said, yanking the helmet off her head.  “You’re not going anywhere with that nose.  You’ll scare people away.”

“Isn’t that the point?” she said, scowling, straightening her hair that I’d messed up.

I put the helmet on my head.  “Hand it over, Winky.  I’m going out.  You can cover me with a gun.”

“How come you get to go out there?” she said, pouting.

“Because I’m … the mayor, that’s why.”

“Says who?” asked Peter.

“I vote for her!” said Bodo.  “Dat’s two votes.”

“Three!” yelled Gretchen.

“And four,” added Bianca.

“Whatever,” said Peter.  “Just don’t get shot.  We need you here to run your classes.  I already have a schedule made.”

“Of course you do,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.  I took the shield and held it up to me.  “How’s this?”

“Higher,” said Winky.  “They can take your face off if it’s too low.”

“What about my ankles?”

“Smaller target than your big head,” she said, shrugging.

I nudged her with my hip.  “Cover me, guys.”

“Hey!” said Bodo.  “Wait a minute!  Is dis a good idea, guyss?  Dat she goess out dare by herself?”

“She’s not going alone,” said Ronald.  He’d gone and suited up, too, only he’d added a flak jacket to his ensemble.  “Here,” he said, tossing me one.

I crouched behind the shield and put it on.  Jamal came out of the hallway with riot gear on as well.

“Ready?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.  “This is fun.  I feel like a cop.”

“Fun until you feel a bullet,” I mumbled.  But I was glad for the company and figured we’d look more intimidating with the bigger guys standing with me.

We walked to the door together, opening it up and stepping outside.  I waited for a few seconds to see if the strangers would do anything.

“Are we going to go talk to them?” whispered Jamal.

“I wanted to see if they’d shoot first,” I whispered back.

“If it were me, I’d wait until we were closer,” said Ronald.

“Good point,” I said, moving forward again.  Ronald and Jamal fell into step beside me.

The closer we got, the more confused I became.  There were four people there, all of them looking like they’d just gotten into a fight.  It was the blood and the ripped clothes that initially threw me off, making it difficult to identify them; but once we were within twenty feet of the gate, the images hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Rob!” I yelled, throwing down my shield and helmet, sprinting to the gate.

“Bryn!” yelled Ronald, “what are you doing?!”

Rob was holding Fohi up on one side, and another big guy was on Fohi’s other side.

“Oh my god,
Yokci! 
What are you guys
doing
here?” I yelled, desperately trying to find the right key to open the gate.  My hands were shaking and they kept slipping away.

Jamal came up beside me and took them from my hands.  “Let me do this.”  He looked through the keys to find the right one.

“I’m sorry,” said Ronald, “I didn’t even recognize you guys at all.”

“Yeah,” said Rob.  “We’ve run into some trouble.”

“But … but … Yokci’s here too,” I said, not understanding.  “How come he’s here?”

“We’ll explain everything when we get in.  Fohi’s in bad shape.  I hope you have some medical supplies in there.”

Fohi’s head was hanging down and his hand was resting lightly on his stomach.

“Hey, Fohi,” I said gently, coming up to the gate and putting my hands on it, looking through the links.  “What happened to you?”

He lifted his head and tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace.  His teeth were bloody.  “Got kicked a few times.  Stabbed twice.  Rough day at work,” he said, trying to joke about it.  He started coughing and some blood came to his lips.  “Sorry about that,” he said wiping it away with the back of his hand.