Plague (21 page)

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Authors: Victor Methos

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“I got his license plate. Just in case I needed it.”

“If he had any brains it was a rental or
a
fake plate.”

“No, there was two cars. One of ‘em was parked where they thought I c
ouldn’t see it. I got the plate
to that too and they were Hawaii plates.”

Robert smiled. “Richie, you are impressing me more and more every second. Where’s the number?”

“First you gotta promise not to kill me.”

“If I’m the type of person that can kill you
,
I probably won’t have any problem breaking a promise
, but okay, I’ll play along.
I promise I will not kill you if you give me the
plate
number.”

Richie pulled out his phone. He held it in front of him and Robert took it, noticing that Richie’s hands were shaking. Robert memorized the number and letter sequence and then handed the phone back to Richie.

“You’ve been very helpful, Richie. You’re free to go.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Robert turned and began walking away down the sidewalk. He heard
footsteps fading in the distance behind him.

Robert stopped, and closed his eyes. He listened
intensely
to the
footfalls. They were far apart;
Richie was taking long strides. He wasn’t zig-zagging and he hadn’t run down the alley. He was running directly behind Robert in the opposite direction.

Robert spun, his weapon up, and fired three shots. Two hit their mark and Richie collapsed onto the pavement. If he would’ve zigged and zagged, Robert may not have been able to hit him.

“Maybe you weren’t as smart as I thought,” Robert said aloud, putting his weapon away. He began walking back to his hotel, humming to himself.

 

 

CHAPTER 27

 

 

Samantha awoke and
,
for a single, terrifying moment, didn’t know where she was. The hotel room suddenly didn’t look familiar. She had been back in Atlanta only a moment ago, taking care of her mother’s funeral arrangements
,
staring down into the casket at the face of the woman who had raised h
er. The face appeared as a mask,
like it had been painted on. The spirit that had animated it was no longer there and it was no more different, or beautiful, than a table or a chair.

It took a few moments but the events of the previous weeks flooded back into her mind as she watched the sunlight streaming through the windows of her room. She rose and walked to them, looking down on the streets below.

The first thing that struck her was the growth of the vegetation. Lawns were unmowed and hedges untrimmed.
Ralph was right:
nature was slowly and steadily taking back what was hers.

She took a quick shower and
then
filled a few buckets she had gotten from a hardware store with water. It was uncertain how long utilities would remain on since maintenance crews were growing slimmer and slimmer.

She went out to her bike and checked her gas gauge; about half a tank left. She decided to walk instead. The gas stations had all been closed as wel
l. N
ot
because of
order
s
, but
because
no gas shipments were coming in and they had ran out of reserves within a week. She didn’t know when she would need h
er bike and it wasn’t worth the gas to save
the mile and
a
half walk
from
the hotel.

There were no clouds today and the sun broiled the city as heat waves bounced off the cement and cooked the streets.

The city appeared like a Hollywood movie set. Without people to animate it there was just cement, steel
,
and wood. The wind rustled through the streets and bits of trash flew wit
h it. She hadn’t noticed it before
but the level of trash
was increasing every
day despite people not being out as much
. S
he
couldn’t walk more than a couple of feet without some debris on the sidewalk in front of her. Even a
week
ago, she had been impressed
with
how clean Honolulu
was
compared to other American cities.

There was some commotion behind her. She glanced around to see three young men walking in her direction but on the opposite side of the street. They were dressed in normal clothing; they weren’t military
. Since
the majority of the police force was either ill or had quit their jobs so as not to become ill,
military
were the only ones that were out in public.

Sam faced forward again and continued walking. She had tried to call her mother last night but the nurse had let it go to voicemail. Caring for someone full time was exhausting, both mentally and physically. Sam didn’t fault her for sometimes turning the phone off and taking a nap. As long as her mother’s needs were looked after, she didn’t expect her nurse to be superhuman.

The voices she had heard were closer
now
and she looked behind her again. The men had crossed over to her side of the street. They were no
w
staring at her and walking at a quick pace. The absence of police presence
came barreling at her. Wilson’s theory that police simply being in an area would keep crime in check worked for a while, until the mass quitting began. Police officers with families of their own feared infection and so they quit rather than follow orders. There were, as far as she could tell, about
fifty police officers left
in
the entire island of a hundred and
thirty-
seven square miles, and they were quitting at the pace of about five per day.

She glanced behind her again. The men were closer, their eyes locked on her. She looked forward, pretending not to notice, but her heart was beating as if someone were pounding on her chest. She looked back again. They were closing the distance. She
wondered
for just a moment if this wasn’t all in her head until she saw the knife strapped to the hip of one of the men.

There was an intersection up ahead. As soon as she could, she turned left around a building, and broke into a sprint. She got nearly a quarter of a block up before she heard shouting behind her and saw the men turning the corner and running after her.

Sam saw a convenience store up ahead and tried the doors: they were locked. She thought about going around back but the men were catching up to her now. They were close enough that she could
distinguish their
shouting.

“Where you running
,
bitch!”

She ran back to the sidewalk and was in a full sprint, the purse banging against her with each stride. She took her keys and her cell phone out and threw the purse on the ground. A few cars were lined up on the side of the road and she looked in them
in hopes that someone had left their keys, but they hadn’t
.

She could just see a shopping mall
up ahead
and s
he ran for it, leaving the sidewalk to run on pavement
. Her
breathing
was
labored now, her legs burning like they were dipped in acid. She sprinted as hard as she could, hoping she wouldn’t hit
a rock or a crack and fly face-
first into the pavement.

She got to the parking lot and fell to the ground. She began crawling under the cars. Her knees and elbow
s quickly scraped and bl
ed but she didn’t stop until sh
e heard the footfalls that surrounded her
.

“Where the fuck did she go?” one of them said.

“Into
the mall.”

“Nah,” a third one said
.

She
in one
a these cars. Start lookin’.”

She could see their feet from underneath the car
. They were going slowly up and down the rows, checking each car.

“Look under ‘em too,” one of the men yelled.

They began glancing underneath the cars as well. They were twenty feet away and on a different row, but they would get to her eventually.

Holding her breath to make as little noise as possible, she began crawling toward the entrance to the mall.

The gravel that was displaced underneath made little scraping noises and
to her the sound was
as loud as jet engines. She would stop every few seconds and look back to see the sneakers getting closer and closer.

She had moved out from under an SUV when she got to a Prius. It was too low to the ground for her to crawl under and she eased her way back to a different row and underneath a large Toyota truck. She was nearly to the other side when she heard the shoes hit pavement behind her and she froze.

She looked back and saw the sneakers checking the car next to the one she was under.
Its door
was
unlocked
and the man opened it and began going through whatever was inside.

Sam, lifting herself off the pavement as far as she could go, which wasn’t more than a half an inch, began to crawl to the other side of the truck. She could feel the sunlight on the back of her hand as she made it across. She cleared the truck. Now she would just need to stand, keep low, and make it around to one of the entrances to the mall. She had heard from someone at the hotel that the mall itself was open but the shops were closed. The owner had wanted to give all the shop owners the option of closing or remaining open.

A sound echoed in her head. It was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. Like something she knew intimately once but had forgotten.

It was her cell phone’s ringtone.

She rolled from under the truck as the man in the car next to her jumped out, standing still a moment to find out where the sound was coming from. Samantha was on her feet and at a full sprint toward the mall.

“Right there
,
you
blind mo
therfucker!”

She kept running, not looking back, feeling the strain in her legs as she pushed herself as hard as she could. She made it across the parking lot and was near the door when she felt an impact against her back. She flew forward into the
glass doors and bounced off
and onto her back.

A man stood above her, panting. He pulled the knife out from his hip.

“You run

fast bitch. Now we gonna have some fun you and me.”

He knelt down and Sam thrust out with her hand, jabbing her fingers into his eyes as far as they would go. He yelped in pain and pulled back. She rolled on the ground and got to her feet as the other two men arrived.

She backed up slowly against the glass doors, feeling for the handles. She felt the grating and tugged.
They were
locked.

“Fucking cunt!” the man yelled as he rose, his hand pressed to his right eye.

He came at her and then stopped. Her heart was pounding so loud she didn’t hear the commotion behind her as two police officers opened the door
s
. They pushed her out of the way, a shotgun pointed at the man’s head.

“Get the fuck outta here
,
asshole,” the cop said.

The men looked to each other and then back
ed
away and wal
ked through the parking lot
into the street. The cop turned to her. He lowered his weapon as the other cop behind him did the same.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, out of breath, “thank you.”

“Get inside. There’ll be more of ‘em.”

“More of who?”

“Them. Whatever you wanna call ‘em. We been callin’
‘em
huis. Come on, let’s go.”

Sam entered the mall behind the officers and they locked the doors. The mall was empty and the lights were off. The two officers kept walking without looking back and got down the hall and to an elevator. Sam didn’t feel she had any better options, especially
considering that those men were
probably outside waiting for her, so she got on the elevator too.

They rode to the second floor and walked to the main offices.
A
few other people
were
scattered throughout the space. None of the others wore police uniforms. An older man with a
potbelly
walked up when he saw them enter.

“Who’s this?”

“She was attacked by some huis outside.”

The man gave the two officers an awkward glance, like they had done something wrong, and then stuck out his hand. Sam shook.

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