Down the Road: The Fall of Austin (10 page)

No lights.

Two more flicks proved the lights were not
working.

Knight clicked on the light secured to his
weapon. He realized that he could have just taken the ladies to the
men’s room. But if a Viral was in here, he needed to neutralize it
anyway so it wouldn’t surprise them later.

“
Those things take shits?”
he asked
himself, watching the white beam of light from the flashlight cut
through the darkness like an angelic sword. The head of the beam
hit the floor, revealing footprints splattered in blood.
Something strange in the neighborhood,
he thought, as Ray
Parker, Jr. sang the old ‘80s hit in his head. The light followed
the trail past the stalls and sinks toward the wall, focusing on a
body.

Knight gasped. The body had been torn to
pieces. An entire leg was exposed to the bone. The crotch and all
subsequent female genitalia had been ripped from the body, exposing
the hipbone. Internal organs of the region had been gnawed upon,
and the belly was torn open.

A movement to the left of the mutilated
corpse caused Knight to adjust the light to focus on the body right
next to it. Sitting against the wall, a female Viral opened its
eyes and immediately covered them with her hands. She had long
black hair and massive breasts hiding behind an ivory blouse and
gray business dress suit. She was missing one shoe, revealing
manicured toes.

The discovery was bizarre. The only
hypothesis Knight could figure was that the Viral had caught the
woman in the restroom and was feasting on her body as the lights
went out. Enclosed in darkness, the Viral could not enjoy the feast
entirely or find its way out. So it sat and rested.

But that was all blind speculation.

The creature was rising despite the bright
light shining in her pale dead face. Knight couldn’t help but
marvel at her voluptuous body, and fancied her a hottie in her
previous life. It was too bad she was a Viral now, with only one
solution to her crisis.

Knight provided two as a sort of verification
of the only answer.

The first bullet punched out her top front
teeth, splitting her palette and severing the top of her spine. The
second bullet put her out of her twitching misery, busting her left
eye and digging through enough brain to end her days as a
Viral.

(A hot Viral.)

She fell face first into the bloody and torn
crotch of her victim, landing with an audible splat.

Knight slowly backed out of the restroom.

“What happened?” one of the senators
asked.

“You ladies are going to have to use the
men’s room.”

5:00 AM

State Capitol Rotunda

The morning had been quiet apart from the
gunshots fired in the ladies room earlier by Spc. Knight.

Specialists Rodriguez, Garrison, and Goodson
were wandering around near the entrance to the capitol building,
taking in the historical monuments close by.

Garrison looked curiously at words on the
marble tile floor. “Check out these words,” he said. “Sabine Pass,
Palo Alto, Coleto, Bex-ar.”

“
Bexar
,” Goodson corrected.
“Pronounced
Bay-har
. It’s Spanish.”

“Stupid ass Spanish can’t spell for shit,”
Garrison said callously.

“Watch your mouth, Garrison,” Rodriguez
grunted.

“What’s that set on the floor near you say?”
Garrison asked Goodson, trying to change the subject quickly.

Goodson was looking at another set of words
coupled with torches and winding ribbon that looked eerily like
snakes.

“San Jacinto, Goliad, Alamo, Gonzales. Shit,
I know those names. They were pretty much the most significant
battles in the Texas war of independence.” Goodson swelled with
pride.

“Garrison, what’s on that side?” Rodriguez
asked.

“Galveston, Palmito, Velasco, Anahuac. What
the fuck?”

“I’m thinking those must be battles from the
Civil War,” Goodson said.

Garrison didn’t like the way Goodson answered
him. “Don’t talk to me like that, Goodson.”

Goodson wasn’t sure why he was being
attacked, but didn’t like it.

“Then get an education, you dumb fuck.”

“Fuck you,” came the quick reply.

Goodson pounced on the response, “Oh,
‘
fuck you
’. Nice comeback, you stupid, no talent imbecile
piece of shit.”

“Stringing insults together doesn’t count,
either, faggot,” Rodriguez chimed in.

Tensions were rising quickly in front of the
watchful eyes of statues of Sam Houston and Stephen F. Austin. They
seemed to look with disapproval at the men charged with securing
the state they fought for over a century before.

Goodson was tired of feeling bullied. He
challenged the massive Rodriguez. “Why don’t you let your little
bitch fend for himself ?”

The moment was escalating.

“Because I don’t like you either.”

Goodson chuckled, turning his back to the
duo. He looked at the painting of Santa Anna’s surrender on the
wall.

“What are you laughing at, bitch?” Rodriguez
said, angry at the defiant back turn.

“Just wondering if they’re going to make a
painting of this crisis someday and hang it on the wall here,
too.”

“You’d probably look like this faggot on the
wall,” Rodriguez said, pointing at a large painting of Davy
Crockett. “Put your leather chaps on and you’d look just like
him.”

“Fuck you, Rodriguez. Davy Crockett was not a
faggot. And I left my chaps at home.”

Goodson’s attempt at levity was successful.
The tension was temporarily broken, and the three rivals began to
laugh.

Their laughter was cut short by a muffled
crash emanating from the hallway where the fireteams had originally
entered the building.

“What was that?” Goodson asked.

“Viral?” Rodriguez guessed.

“Dunno. Let’s go check it out.”

In his enthusiasm, Goodson took the lead.
Rodriguez and Garrison looked at each other, sharing a devious
glare. “Go with him,” Rodriguez said. “I’ll stay here with Injun
Joe.”

Talltree silently and stoically ignored the
comment, watching the obvious ambush unfold.

Garrison looked back at Rodriguez. Rodriguez
gave him a nod of approval, securing their advance into the hallway
filled with locked offices.

Garrison and Goodson strolled halfway through
the hallway, guns ready, when another noise made them stop.

“You hear that?” Goodson asked, ever the boy
scout. They both trained their weapons toward an office door they
had assumed was empty because the door was locked. But it appeared
their initial assumption was wrong.

“What do you think?” Garrison asked, playing
his hand deceitfully.

“This building needs to be secure,” Goodson
stated matter-of-factly.

Respecting the antiquity of the door, Goodson
took out his lockpick tools and silently went about picking the
lock. He wasn’t as talented as Knight, but it wasn’t too difficult
to make the lock click open. Goodson stood up, leaving his toolkit
on the floor. He put his finger to his lips. Garrison shouldered
his weapon.

Goodson twisted the doorknob and pushed the
door open. Garrison quickly entered. Goodson followed.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the
large office. But a stack of discarded clothes quickly raised
suspicion. Both men could see the hint of a head behind the
congressman’s desk. They both advanced on the desk, with Goodson
taking the lead.

Goodson jumped when he saw what was behind
the desk. Kneeling on the floor in a pair of designer heels and
thigh-highs was a woman. He could only see her back and rear end
resting on her heels. Had the naked and mangled corpse in front of
her not been there, it might have been slightly arousing. But the
situation was clear.

“She’s a Viral,” Goodson said softly.

The creature slowly turned her head to the
men. Her body was very pale.

Goodson shouldered his weapon. “Good grief.
They must have been fucking when she turned.”

She let go of the gore in her hands and rose
on her high heels. She was gorgeous and very shapely, but quite
infected. Blood dripped from her lips onto her perfect breasts like
a Luciferian blood-moneyshot. She opened her mouth, exposing blood
she had yet to swallow, spilling it onto her body and the
floor.

Both soldiers took a step back.

“Looks like she wants you,” Garrison
whispered, his heart beating in his chest, his crotch twitching
with arousal. He aimed at the creature. But something within
himself motivated him to shift his aim toward Goodson. His soul
twisted within his spiritual self, challenged by the malevolent
decision he was moments from making.

“Huh?” Goodson asked.

The next second felt like an eternity to
Garrison. He knew what he was about to do, and his mind was sending
chemical messages to his hands to do it. But his scarred soul was
pleading with his cruel mind to stop. In defense of his choice, his
mind took him back in a flash to his childhood. He was four and
nothing but happy while visiting a family friend. The family had
three children, Billy and Darla, who were Garrison’s age. They also
had a stepson named Rudolfo who was ten. The young kids had been
playing by the backyard swimming pool when the ball they were
playing with rolled into the water. It gently bounced and floated
slowly out of reach. The three young children stood at the edge,
looking into the pool.

“Aw,” the three kids groaned.

Garrison never had the notion that anyone
could be so cruel and so never expected Rudolfo to push him into
the pool.

“
Go get it
,” the cruel ten year old
had said to him. Garrison did not even hear the last syllables of
the tease, as he began to sink in the deep end. Panicking, he knew
enough to hold his breath as he flailed to reach the surface.

But before he could get there, another body
splashed into the pool and fell on top of him, sending him back
down. His air supply was quickly depleting as he struggled to
recover. He somehow recalled the arcade game
Jungle Hunt
.
The explorer in the video game would jump into the water, and a
long red bar signifying how much air he had was at the top left
side of the screen just below his score. The explorer needed to put
his head above water every so often or he would die. Garrison felt
like he was very close to having his red bar move all the way down
to empty, and he was about to die.

His head pierced through the top of the water
and his lungs demanded air. Flailing, he took a deep breath.

Fill the red bar!

His ears had a chance to start taking in
sound and it picked up a very audible scream. His eyes opened just
in time to see Rudolfo tossing his little stepsister into the pool
on top of him. He remembered his face, filled with a sadistic joy,
a cruel braces-filled smile, as the helpless little girl hit him in
the water. Her weight dunked him back in the pool to fight to the
surface again.

Billy was already swimming to the edge when
Garrison resurfaced, choking on water. He flailed and splashed his
way to the edge with Billy. Darla was also right behind him.

Garrison was struggling to keep his head
above water when Rudolfo stomped on Billy’s fingers. Billy pulled
his hands away and started crying. Fearful, Garrison and Darla
began to tread water, suspending themselves in the water in a state
of terminal desperation.

Rudolfo’s laughter was cut short when his
biological father exited the back door after hearing the cries of
the kids.

“Goddammit, Rudy! Get over here!”

Rudy began to cower and make excuses, turning
his back on the kids in the pool. They immediately took the
opportunity to race to the edge.

As the three children whimpered in fear on
the side of the pool, Rudolfo’s dad whipped him with his belt
across the rear five times before scolding him in front of the
children.

Garrison’s mother helped pull the kids out of
the pool. As Rudolfo cowered in front of his father, the seeds of
hateful anger had been sown.

The bitter hatred and humiliated anger of
that day (and several subsequent moments of bullied humiliation by
Rudolfo) had been significant factors—in Garrison’s estimation—of
why he himself had turned into a spiteful bully. He never wanted to
be hurt that way again, and immediately went about physically
abusing those who were weaker than him. He trusted only his mother
and father from that day forward. Everyone was looked upon with a
wary eye. The violation of trust cut him to the core, and he was
never the same.

As he stood behind Goodson, with the viral
woman preparing to pounce, Garrison would not be violated again.
No. He would not be put down by Goodson ever again—that pansy
pretty boy.

Garrison committed to his choice.

It was his turn to be the bully.

“Go get her,” he muttered, like Rudolfo had
said so many years ago, shoving the larger Goodson toward the
Viral.

The woman grabbed him and quickly used her
still very healthy teeth to bite his neck.

Goodson threw her off with ease and sent her
careening into a bookshelf. Heavy tomes fell across her like a
paper landslide, burying her to the point of immobility.

Part of Goodson’s throat dangled from her
lips. As she chewed, warm blood dripped again on her body.

Goodson stumbled back, dropping his weapon
and gripping his neck

with both hands.

“Shoot her, man,” he said helplessly,
weakly.

“Fuck you, Goodson,” Garrison growled.

He lifted his weapon and fired two rounds
into Goodson’s face. Goodson twitched violently as he collapsed to
the floor. Garrison quickly ran to him and hovered over him,
getting in his face with ecstatic glee. “Who’s the dumb fuck now?!”
he asked.