Halifax (19 page)

“Well, first, I won’t have to worry about saving for retirement any more…” the coach said as he reached down and picked up the clown Pez dispenser. Rom could see him examining the toy at the bottom of the tunnel.

“Please put that down!” Rom warned. “Please. You have no idea what it is.”

Coach Gwynn ignored Rom and continued his train of thought. “And second, I won’t have to listen to bratty kids like you any more…”

“Whatever you do, don’t open it,” Rom pleaded with him.

“And third…”

There was no third thing. Coach Gwynn pulled back the head of the clown and it exploded, completely atomizing him, and sending a ball of flames shooting up around the tunnel.

Rom slid down the tunnel and coughed through the smoke. He stood in the playground, in the blackened, charred hole where Coach Gwynn had been standing moments before.

“I killed the basketball coach,” Rom said to himself with worry. “I’m
so
going to get detention for this.”

Every door Nora ran through led to a dead end. Every window was either blocked or locked. Every exit led to yet another room in the haunted house and another gruesome scene of horror so realistic Nora was beginning to panic, unsure what was real and what was fake.

Nora ran towards the windows of what seemed to be a hospital room. Flashing lightening created a strobe effect across an operating table in the center of the room where a mannequin doctor with an insane grin on his face used a chain saw to cut another mannequin in half. Syrupy blood was spurting out in a horrific fountain. Nora stumbled as she ran and fell against the operating table, coming face to face with the demented doctor, red blood staining her dress and coating her hands.

She pushed away from the table and the mannequin and ran to try the windows. She pulled on them frantically, using all her strength, but she couldn’t get them to move even an inch. Nora beat her fists in frustration on the bottom of the windowsill. Her heart was pounding and her hope was fading.

She turned to run in another direction, any direction, any way out, and ran right into someone. She began to scream but he covered her mouth. It was Farrell. Nora hugged him and held on to him for dear life. Her hope was restored. For now.

“It wants to take me,” she whispered to Farrell as she watched the doorway behind them.

“It’s using one of our barge portals to direct a ship here,” Farrell told her. “This is a bus stop to outer space and it seems you have a ticket.”

“Why would it want me?”

“I don’t know why it wants you but the fact that it wants you means we have to make sure it doesn’t get you,” Farrell said. He looked around the room and at the operating table where a series of medical instruments, scalpels and knives, where laid out in a pool of blood, giving authenticity to the scary surgery scene before them.

Farrell picked up one of the larger knives and examined it closely. It had sharp edges on both sides. It was a dagger. “Stay close to me,” Farrell said as he took Nora by the hand.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said. “Just don’t go anywhere without me.”

Farrell took the lead as they stepped cautiously into the hallway. Suddenly the door behind them slammed closed. They moved towards another doorway but that door slammed closed, too. All they had to do was look at the open door at the end of the hall and it closed with a great bang. Ahead of them was one last open doorway. They waited for a moment, waiting for it to slam shut as well, but it remained open.

“I’m guessing we have to go that way,” Nora said as she looked at the darkened doorway. She squeezed Farrell’s hand tightly.

Farrell turned to Nora and leaned in closely, his eyes fixed on hers. “You have to do exactly what I say,” he warned her. “Do you understand?
Exactly
what I say.”

“I understand,” Nora said.

They moved towards the doorway. The door was slightly ajar, opened only a few inches. Farrell carefully pushed it back and stepped into the room.

“Izzy!” he suddenly yelled out. Nora pushed her way in next to him so she could see what had alarmed Farrell. Izzy was in the room. She was shackled to the wall. Iron chains held down her arms and legs. She struggled against them but couldn’t break free.

“It’s here, Farrell!” Izzy cried. “Get out!”

The last door, the one they had just come through, slammed behind them and Farrell and Nora looked up to see Mrs. O’Brien, tentacles swirling around her, suspended along the ceiling. She used the tentacles as extra arms. They slithered along the walls and lowered her down to the floor where she stood between Izzy and Farrell.

“Give me back my package and I’ll give you back your sister,” Mrs. O’Brien hissed as one of her tentacles worked its way across the floor and up the wall next to Izzy. It began wrapped itself around her neck.

“You know you can’t change her,” Farrell reminded the Cambian. “She’s not human. She has mixed blood.”

Mrs. O’Brien twisted around. “I’m not going to change your sister. I’m going to kill her. Even an Orlian can’t withstand an overdose—of me.”

The Cambian tightened its tentacle around Izzy’s neck and the tip of the tentacle burrowed into her ear and into her brain. Izzy took a deep breath, trying to hold herself together, but she began to falter. Her head began to shake and she started to hyperventilate. She was having a panic attack to end all panic attacks, melting down before their very eyes. She tried to call out to Farrell but she couldn’t. Her mouth moved but was wordless.

“Give the girl to me or I’ll finish this,” the Cambian said as it slowly raised its other tentacles up around Mrs. O’Brien’s body.

“Kill her,” Farrell said coldly. He looked at Izzy without emotion. “I don’t care. She knows what I think. Everyone is expendable.”

A surge of light pumped through the Cambian’s tentacles and an enraged Mrs. O’Brien screamed at Farrell. “Give me my package!”

“She’s not a package,” Farrell said. “She’s a human. And she’s a human someone wants so badly they would kill the rest of the human race to get her. So either they really like blondes or they’re really evil. Either way, I can’t let them have her.”

Farrell turned to Nora. He placed his hand tenderly beneath her chin, her head resting in his palm. He leaned in, his lips almost touching hers, almost as if he was going to kiss her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “But you’re going to have to die now.” In his other hand he held the knife he had taken off the operating table. He pulled it back and jammed it violently into Nora’s stomach, the blade disappearing into her white dress.

Nora’s eyes widened in disbelief. She clutched the handle of the knife with both her hands, blood visible on her fingertips. She stared at Farrell, desperate and betrayed, and fell to the floor. Lifeless.

Mrs. O’Brien let out a piercing scream and her tentacles flared up around her, waving frantically in the air. “Why did you do that? Why?” Mrs. O’Brien screamed, her voice now distorted. It was no longer the voice of an old woman. It was hard and loud and highly unpleasant. “You ruined my mission! I’ve failed! I’m going to lose my job! I’m going to be a disgrace!”

The Cambian raised its radiating tentacles towards Izzy as it screeched at Farrell. “I’m going to let you watch her die and then I’m going to let you watch the rest of the human race die and then I’m going to kill
you
!”

The Cambian’s tentacles lashed out towards Izzy. Before they could reach her already weakened body, however, Farrell jumped in front of Izzy and took the full force of the Cambian’s attack. Every tentacle latched on to Farrell. They wrapped around him. They were squeezing the life out of him and invading his body, pumping him with huge quantities of deadly toxins. It was a viral overload that no one could possibly survive.

Farrell should have been dying. He should have been screaming in agony and writhing in pain. Instead, he stood his ground and stared down the Cambian. He withstood its viral attack with unflinching bravery. In fact, Farrell seemed to be growing stronger—and the Cambian seemed to be growing weaker. It began to melt down. Its tentacles began to dim, one by one, and lose their grip on Farrell. The Cambian was alarmed. Suddenly confused. It watched in horror as its own body began to falter. “What’s wrong?” it said. “What’s happening?”

Nora suddenly stood up and joined Farrell. She pulled the knife from her body and held it up for the Cambian to see. She pushed her hand down on the knife, hard onto the tip of the blade. Instead of cutting her, though, the blade retracted into the handle of the knife. It was a trick knife. The blade was plastic. A toy. Nora had, indeed, done
exactly
as Farrell had said. He told her to die and she did just that.

“What are you doing to me?” O’Brien screamed in desperation. “What’s happening to me?”

“You’re dying,” Farrell said as more of the Cambian’s tentacles flared out like Fourth of July sparklers burning down to their stems. “You’re dying because there’s one person on this planet you shouldn’t have messed with—and that’s me. Because I’m a living, breathing, nucleoside analogue. I’m a fake DNA building block. A walking anti viral drug.” Farrell pulled the Cambian’s last tentacle away from his body and pushed it back onto the quivering, fading body of the weak old woman.

Farrell stood over what was left of Mrs. O’Brien as she looked up at him, her eyes changing from black saucers back to their cataract filled blueness. “I’m the only person on this planet who’s been immunized against the Cambian virus,” Farrell declared.

“That’s impossible. Impossible!” the old woman cried. “Only one group in the universe has been immunized. Only the Jants. You can’t be. You can’t be a Jant! You can’t be. You can’t!”

The Cambian reached out towards Farrell, pleadingly, and then clenched its fist, shaking it at Farrell, cursing him. The alien’s last tentacle rose up for a moment, and then dove back towards the old woman’s body, wrapping itself around and around, and squeezing her until she began to break apart into a bloody, gruesome mass.

The door to the room was suddenly kicked open and Rom and Bobby burst in. Rom immediately ran to help Izzy.

“Late again,” Izzy said wearily.

“You guys have all the fun,” Rom said as he unlocked her shackles and released her. She fell into her little brother’s arms.

All the kids looked on at the virus’ demise. Bobby was disgusted. Nora was fascinated. Farrell and Izzy were relieved. Only Rom was happy.

“Yes!” he said with joy. “No math tomorrow!”

Rom jammed a long needle into Farrell’s arm and began filling a syringe with Farrell’s blood. They were in the bathroom of the haunted house with the others looking on. Bobby swooned at the sight of the blood and had to hold on to the sink to keep from fainting. Lying on the floor at Bobby’s feet was old Andre. He was barely conscious and was groaning in pain.

Izzy and Nora watched from the doorway. Nora looked at her boyfriend—or at least looked at the old man who had once been her boyfriend. She had probably been planning on breaking up with him. This probably sealed the deal.

“How did you know Farrell wasn’t going to let it kill you?” she asked Izzy as her gaze turned to Farrell.

“Because I
do
know how he feels,” Izzy replied strongly, asserting her familiarity with Farrell and her loyalty to him. “He would never let anything happen to me—or to you.”

Rom pulled the blood-filled syringe out of Farrell’s arm and turned to Andre. He knelt down beside the old man and stuck the needle into Andre’s arm. Andre recoiled from the pain and groggily tried to push the needle away but Bobby stepped in and held him still.

“Can you change him back to the way he was?” Nora asked.

“Do we want him back the way he was?” asked Bobby.

“The antibodies in Farrell’s blood will kill the virus,” Izzy told them as she and Farrell exchanged glances. They were always the practical ones. At least until Farrell met Nora. “He won’t be able to infect anyone else. But---.”

“But it looks like it’s time to stock up on the adult diapers, Nora,” Bobby laughed. “Your boyfriend’s going to need them!”

Nora sat in the shade of an oak tree. A slight breeze played with the hem of her skirt, pushing it from side to side. She was a little nervous and apprehensive but she managed to force a smile. Then she took a deep breath and said things that she could have never imagined ever saying in her entire life.

“I never thought I’d grow up to become an alien hunter. It’s not something you really plan for. I don’t know where I’m going to find time to study for the SAT’s and I’ll probably have to quit yearbook committee, but I think this is something I’ll be really good at. Maybe there’s actually more to me than people think. Listen, I know it’s weird that I’m even telling you all this, but I just needed someone to talk to about it. Someone I don’t, you know, work with, or whatever.”

A man approached. He wore a simple green smock and matching loose fitting green pants and had a soothing demeanor common to those in his line of work. He was a nurse. “I’m sorry, Miss, but you’ll have to go now. We’re on a schedule here.”

“Oh, sure,” Nora said as she stood up and straightened out her skirt. “No problem.”

Nora moved over to the person she was talking to. She knelt down next to his wheelchair. It was Andre. He was even older now. He was aging almost a year every week. He was motionless and wordless and his eyes were half shut. He was lost in another world if he was lucky or trapped in this one if he was unlucky.

“I’ll see you next week, okay,” Nora said as she kissed Andre gently on the forehead.

The male nurse pulled up the brake on the wheelchair and pushed Andre towards a simple brick building across the lawn, past other elderly patrons in various states of dementia, some talking to themselves, some staring off into nothingness.
The Sherman Oaks Senior Center
. That’s what the sign above the door read. Not for the young and not for the feint of heart.

Andre strained his neck and looked up at the nurse. “She’s…she’s my girlfriend,” he told him, his voice was faltering and was barely more than a whisper.