Protect All Monsters (25 page)

He reached a level running ground. The wolves were a solid wall behind him, charging in. Forward was his only option. He weaved between the trees, the space so dense. The maneuvering would slow the wolves down, but once he hit the wall on the other side, he’d be cornered.

He couldn’t bring himself to check his peripheral vision. He sensed the heat at his back and the mutated testosterone and pheromones released in the air, a gamey smell.

Perhaps throwing yourself at the electric fence isn’t such a bad idea.

He stopped at the tree in front of him, and not knowing what else to do, he scaled up to the first limb without thinking. He completed the next stage, and the next, and the next, pumping his limbs. Soon, he reached the middle of the adult tree. Wolves surrounded the tree, more than a hundred at a glance, the swarm clawing, rendering, beating, chomping, punching, kicking, shoving and howling at the tree to knock it from its roots.

In seconds to a minute, the horde would fell the tree.

And soon, he would plummet right down into the crowd.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Loose dust and mortar coated Brenner’s head as he forded deeper into the secret tunnels. He faced a darker chamber yet. His flashlight combed over carved-up walls and hills of broken shards of chalk-like rock. The monsters had worked over the foundation and the walls to create tunnel after labyrinthine tunnel. He wasn’t sure which direction to investigate next. On the west end, six holes for tunnels could take him anywhere, and on the east, ten more passages offered even more mysterious options. The tunnels wound on, crooked and jagged and without end. Tools were strewn about the crunchy gravel walks. Pickaxes, trowels, the blades of knives without the handles, and random steel objects. Many were weapons given to the criminally insane upon entering the vampire arena. They had enabled the monsters to commit this kind of work, he realized.

He stopped and listened. Not even breathing. He heard voices. They were muted conversations. Too distant to understand, he followed the words, sneaking down the tunnel farther. The tunnel ended at a steel grate, and he was able to peer into a room with pink silk walls and a bed in the shape of a heart. A topless woman gave one of the sublevel worms a lap dance. In another tunnel he traveled, a new grate showed a movie screen and an audience laughing at what was obviously a comedy.

They have access to our facility. And they haven’t attacked.

What are they waiting for?

Every tunnel and cubbyhole in this chamber led to an outlet of the PAM Complex.

The bastards want to escape. Why not now, damn it? It doesn’t make sense. What’s holding them back?

Brenner rushed back into the main walkway. He kept moving, critically analyzing every inch of space.

“
Hraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
”

He was sliced between his shoulder blades down to his buttocks. Warm blood gushed down his legs, the razor talons inflicting blinding flashes of agony. Brenner’s body returned the favor, an instinct he had no control over. Down his back, ropes of mutated muscles ripped free in sinewy strands, wrapping around his adversary. The enemy was lifted and dropped in front of him with a neck-breaking
snap
. Writhing within a net of muscular tissue and constricted veins, what had shot out of his body, was the creature. The werewolf was swatting, snarling and biting at its restraints.

The pink and purple and fuchsia web tissue stayed strong, holding the thing back. “How did you sneak up on me, you ugly fucking dog?”

He hadn’t heard steps or heavy breathing. The wolf had simply materialized. Was the creature guarding the tunnels, or had it bumped into him by chance?

The wolf wasn’t a rational creature, and questioning the rabid fiend was a waste of words. Brenner willed it, and his body obeyed. Every rope and tendril of modified flesh squeezed the wolf like a sponge. The beast was instantly crushed.

He left the pulp body to bleed out. The wounds on his back had already healed, and the blood he’d lost had already been regained through drinking the vile creature’s.

Brenner listened again as new sounds rang out ahead of him. Which tunnel to follow, he couldn’t decide. The words weren’t coming from the facility this time. They were echoing cavern-deep and below his feet.

They’ve burrowed below the sublevel.

Another iron door prevented him from making forward progress. There was no lock on this door.

That’s where the voices have to be coming from.

If they don’t know I’m coming, they will soon.

He stepped backward four yards, bending his arms as if to punch somebody, and he closed his eyes. He held his breath. Flexed every muscle and inch of his body.

One.

Every muscle inside him wove through his flesh and out his hands.

Two.

Tendrils of muscle tissue crept out of his chest, and shoulders, and back.

Three!

The vascular prongs exploded and punched out the steel wall.

Once the dust settled, he didn’t hesitate to cross the threshold into their lair.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Addey waited in the third floor break room for reassignment. The break room also bore evidence of their work. For the vampires, vending machines dispensed blood according to blood type and temperature. Another machine dispensed human heads, hearts, and choice extremities. Twin-size cots manned one corner for those working double shifts to catch a quick snooze. A bare-bones vending machine, Coke machine, and
 
row of six Mr. Coffees summed up the creature comforts. A table in the center of the room was stocked with empty doughnut trays and fruit. Many of the faces in the room were exhausted beyond complaint, the room stinking of hard labor and black coffee.

She located an open chair and sat down, not knowing what else to do with herself. It wasn’t much longer before a familiar voice called out to her, “Addey? Hey, it’s Addey.”

It was Cynthia Wells. Her hair was strewn about her face, disheveled from working so hard. What caught Addey's attention was her black eye, the bruise a contrast against her optimistic expression. She vaguely recognized the man who was directly behind her. He had been on the same boat as she had, coming to the island, the talkative cop named Todd Lamberson. He was militant faced, but soft around the eyes and mouth. A lot of smiles used to come out of that man, she thought, but not anymore.

Cynthia hugged her close. “I heard what happened to you in that mobile unit. You’ve done nothing but kick everybody’s ass the moment you stepped foot in here.”

She was too concerned for Richard and Herman to revel in the tough-woman label. Todd observed her fatigue and dug into his pocket and showed her a small plastic baggie with two white pills inside of it. “You look like you’ve been through hell. How about some N
ō-Dōz to keep you going?”

She accepted the pills and swallowed them with a drink of water. “The zombies locked me in a storage unit and tried to eat me alive. These are level-one zombies. And by the way, they enjoy flesh as much as the level twos do.”

Cynthia and Todd exchanged horrified glances. Then Cynthia said, “I’ve heard that before, but I didn’t believe it. They’re friendly, good people.”

“Yeah, they’re good people when they’re not trying to eat you. My friend Herman got beat up pretty bad. I don’t know if he’s going to make it. That bitch Grace Mooney escorted me here to work another shift. She wants us all dead.”

Todd seized her arm. “We have no choice. This is the home stretch.”

“Home stretch?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Cynthia asked. “Talks of work stoppages have been cycling all night. It’s rumored Brenner’s trapped in the secret chamber you found. People are saying the monsters are going to rebel soon. Anytime now.”

“Wait.” Addey was confused. “Where’s Richard?”

“We haven’t heard from him in several hours,” Todd said. “He’s been found out, like us. There’s been no radio communication. Brenner or Grace did something to him. Alive or not, this place is going to become a war zone.”

She kept eyeing the coffee, her pick-me-up not arriving yet. Todd shook his head, following her gaze. “Don’t bother. The coffee fucking sucks. You’re better off drinking a Coke.”

She walked to the machine and hit the button. It spit out a Coke, and she slurped it with vigor. She then studied the faces in the room. They’d been here for years, maybe decades. Why would they care if this place was about to be dismantled? This had become their life. They didn’t have any fight left in them. She thanked God there was enough fight left in her to still throw a few punches.

The door opened to the break room, and Grace entered with two armed guards. “Okay, we’re working double time tonight. It’s eleven p.m. Dirty sheets are strewn about the floor. Pick them up and then wash them in the machines. The vampires will be crawling from the arena and into their rooms soon. The room service phones will be ringing off the hook. Get to it, people.”

Grace sauntered to the three of them with a knowing, evil grin. “Figures you three would be chatting. Traitors stay in good company, huh?”

“I’m not a traitor,” Addey growled. “Aren’t you concerned there might be a rebellion?”

The woman’s face remained unreadable. “As long as everybody works hard to satisfy their hunger, we’ll be safe.” Grace pointed her gun at them. “Hit the halls and collect the laundry and answer the phone whenever it rings.”

“Can I have my weapons back?”

Grace faltered at the question, eyeing Addey with a new contempt.

Addey huffed. “If I wanted to shoot you, I could’ve grabbed anybody’s gun in the room and done it already. Maybe in another time and place, but for now, I’m not a murderer. Self-defense, though, is a perfectly fine with me. Like I said, you name the time and place,
bitch
.”

Grace accepted the invitation. “Some other time, but for now, you’ll get a new set of weapons in the laundry room. I’ll be long gone by then.” Addressing everyone else again, she raised her voice. “All right,
move it
! No more talking. Get to work.”

The room, including those sleeping on the cots, rose to action. The workers packed into a room full of industrial washing machines and dryers. The rooms outside were littered with blood-spattered sheets—what the vampires had left out earlier in the day. They stank of raw meat, unnatural sex and death.

Cynthia was behind Addey. “So now, all we can do is keep our eyes open to any signs of a work stoppage or their rebellion.”

Addey offered a stale laugh, “Well, I guess that should be easy enough to spot.”

She was desperate to locate a new set of weapons, but she had no luck. The laundry room was barren of armaments. A back storage room contained an odd assortment of items, including a dozen ice machines stocked with human pieces. She almost guffawed at the sight of oversize buttons with stickers of arms, legs, heads, internal organs, torsos and genitals.

This is fucked up beyond recognition.

The place bustled with labor. Many had already collected numerous bundles of sheets, the workers becoming covered in blood in the process. They were nonreactive to the customary mess.

A manager approached her, a brazen young man—a younger version of Brenner. “You’re new here, I can see. The hallways are still being cleared of laundry. Grab a cart and load it up. Clean off whatever shit’s on them and wash them in bleach. Got it?”

Yes, deputy dickhead.

“Yes sir,” she said. “I’m on it.”

“Good. Then get to it.”

She was going to ask him for a weapon, but the man rushed off to another group of workers slacking off in another corner.

Addey channeled her anger into shoving a cart down the hallway. A pair of rubber dishwashing gloves was attached to the cart. She put them on. She hoisted up the first set of sheets. Mixed in was one of the workers’ uniforms. The fabric was in tatters, soiled through and through with red. She stared at the door. Shadows in the shape of feet stood in the crack of the door, as if sensing her arrival. Addey carefully backed away from the door, leery of meeting the tenant.

“I see you,” she warned aloud. “You stay the hell away from me. I’ll be the one biting you.”

The laughter was muffled behind the door. “You can bite me anytime, lady.”

She moved on, working as fast as she could to collect the other messes. The first five heaps of sheets were soaked in red, but the next room, room 313, the sheets were too heavy. Before she undid the mess and plopped them onto the cart, the scratching of nails traveled down the door.

“I could smell you from below,” the wispy, needy, hungry, tormenting voice seethed its hatred for her. “Oh, I tasted your blood…licked it from the floor like an animal…you make me become an animal…how about another taste right now?”

That’s when the human mandible slipped from the sheets and landed into the cart.

The scratching doubled, the requests turning into menacing commands. “Fear in the blood is potent. The body pumps warmer blood that way. Hotter blood is better blood, so delectable. It’s inside of you right now.”

She wheeled the cart back to the laundry room in retreat. She searched for somebody in charge, but she couldn’t locate anybody.