Stage 3: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (23 page)

CHAPTER XXV

Sometime during the night, a switch was thrown and Mason snapped awake.

Instantly aware, he sat bolt upright and felt for the pistol tucked into his waistband. Mackenzie gave a somniferous little grumble of protest, but a gentle stroke of her head calmed her and she lay still.

There was enough of a moon to throw an ambient glow across the front of the place, so Mason could make out the kid still in his chair against the pillar. Whether he was still alive or not, he couldn't tell, but it was of little importance as long as the monster was secure. Outside, dark, unmoving silhouettes lined the windows from one end to the other, as if someone had cut vaguely human shapes from the blackest of paper and fixed them to the glass. Nothing stirred anywhere in or around the restaurant. Even the barricade was quiet. Mason sat there for some time, watching and listening, then he finally let himself relax and lay back down beside Mackenzie. He drew the end of a tablecloth across her body as she lay curled into a tight little ball, and pulled another into a bunch under his head.

Just then, a new sound drifted in from the outside world that made him sit up again, every nerve in a tingle. It was the sound of a car. Somewhere close by. Market Street, maybe. Its throaty growl filled the night air, getting louder and louder until it sounded like it was right on top of them, then it reached a crescendo, changed subtly in pitch, and began to grow more and more distant. Mason listened to the retreating sound until it finally vanished altogether before lowering himself back down.

Previously so ordinary and commonplace, the sound of that lone vehicle tearing up the street suddenly held new import. It meant that he and Mackenzie weren't utterly alone in the world. There were still others. He didn't know why the notion came as such a revelation; after all, logic dictated that there must be
lots
of people still alive. They would be holed-up in their homes or in the countryside or in places like this. They would be alone or with a loved one or with their entire family, each one a tiny island of humanity in a raging sea of devastation. But the car signified something else. It meant that others could see. Others were uninfected. In his heart he'd known all of this, but here was proof; actual undeniable proof that they weren't two people alone in a world gone to hell.

How many?…
he wondered.
How many of you are out there? Are you one of them, Aunt Sarah?

Idly, and for the first time since this all began, he wondered about Becks. Was she still alive? Was she hunkered down somewhere, riding out the storm? He tried to tell himself that he didn't care one way or the other, but he couldn't fool himself. Becks may have broken his heart, but now, looking back, he couldn't really blame her. He always knew that he was burdened with more issues than he could count, so the breakup shouldn't have come as a surprise. Actually, now that he thought about it through the crystal clear lenses of hindsight, the only real surprise was that the two of them had ever gotten together in the first place. Becks was the life of every party and always wanted to be out, dancing and laughing. Mason would rather spend a quiet evening at home with a movie and a bowl of popcorn. Becks liked nothing more than meeting people and making new friends. Mason could work an entire shift with guys he'd known for years and not utter a word. Becks wanted a house full of kids. Mason cringed at the thought of snotty noses and school pageants and college tuitions.

He looked down at Mackenzie's pretty face framed in that profusion of fiery red hair and smiled to himself.

What would you say now, Becks? The most important person in my life is a ten-year-old girl, and I want nothing more than to meet a woman I didn't know existed before today.…..

He laid himself back down with a sigh and let the image of Becks drift from his mind. Gently, he put his arm around the sleeping girl and tucked her head under his chin. She didn't stir, but she gave a contented little purr and resumed her slow, steady breathing. Mason felt himself drifting back to sleep and welcomed it gladly. Maybe he would wake up back home in his own bed with Becks wrapped around him and realize that this was all just a nightmare after all. He breathed in the faint scent of flowers from whatever children's shampoo still lingered in Mackenzie's hair, and all he could think was,
well, it  wasn't
all
a nightmare…..

He felt himself drifting slowly away, but no sooner had the familiar, comforting numbness of sleep descended over his mind than he snapped fully awake again. Something wasn't right. Something was different. Something was…..
off
.  He remained still and listened.

It was Mackenzie. Something was wrong with Mackenzie.

He could still feel her chest rising and falling, but the sound of her breathing had subtly changed. Before, it had been as soft and delicate as that of a slumbering kitten. Now there was a harshness to it; a sort of gentle rasp from the back of her throat. His mind went immediately back to Walker, and he felt a shudder run down his spine. 

Was this it? The beginning of the end?

Too soon… ..Too soon…..I'm not ready……

He wasn't frightened, even when he thought of what the girl would become. His heart was so filled with sorrow and regret that there was no room left for fear. He drew himself against her thin body and held her as tightly as he dared. He kissed her gently on the top of her head and felt a tear trickle down his cheek to pool in his ear.

Oh, babygirl, not yet…..I'm not ready…..
Please
not yet……

He kissed her again and tucked her head back under his chin. If this was it, then he would hold her as long as he could. He would hold her and coo sweet things to her and guide her through the change as gently and lovingly as he could. Then, when she became what she must, he would hold her still. He would hold her and comfort her and love her until he was absolutely certain. Only when she was finally and undeniably no longer Mackenzie would he surrender. When everything of the girl he knew was gone, he would end her torment. And then he would end his own.

Again, he wondered about Aunt Sarah. Was she still alive? If so, she would never know what happened to her darling little girl. She would show up at the dog park, but there would be no Mackenzie. She would wait, but for how long? Days? Weeks? How long would it take before she concluded the worst? And then what? Would she give up? Not a chance. She'd spend the rest of her days wandering the wasteland searching for a loved one who no longer existed. She would peer into the face of every creature who bore even the slightest resemblance to her little girl, and she would dig through rubble and turn over bodies, and she would never ever know for sure.

Briefly, he considered keeping the meeting to give dear Aunt Sarah the closure she would so desperately need, but the notion didn't last long. In truth, she was probably already dead anyway, and as much as his heart ached for the woman he'd never have the chance to meet, he simply couldn't imagine drawing another breath after what he would soon be forced to do.

Dammit
, Sarah, why couldn't you have been at the hospital? I wish you were here……and I'm sorry.…..

He made no move toward his pistol. There would be time enough for that. For now, he simply held Mackenzie against him and imagined that the lingering scent drifting up from her hair was a rolling field of wildflowers under a clear, blue sky. He heard the rasp deepen and wiped tears from his eyes, then he heard the girl stop breathing altogether, and his heart rose to his throat. He slid his other arm beneath her little body and held her gently in a tight embrace.

Not yet. ….Just give me a few more minutes…..a few more
seconds
…..

Suddenly, the girl gasped and drew in a great lungful of air. She expelled it in a wracking cough that made her whole body shudder, then she uttered a single somniferous mewl and proceeded to breath as softly and quietly as ever.

A whirlwind of relief and elation lifted Mason from the deep well of sorrow and flew him to the very heavens. Tears of joy streamed down his cheek, and he allowed them to flow freely.

Oh, babygirl, that's all it was! ……Thank you, God…..Thank you…..

A dark cloud of foreboding cast a fleeting shadow of despair over his elation as he realized the reprieve was only temporary, but he willed the thought away. For now, for this moment in time, Mackenzie was okay. They
both
were. They were safe, they were fed, and they were together. Whatever the future brought, they would deal with it then. For now, all he could think was,
not tonight, babygirl…..not tonight.…..

Mackenzie stirred and put her tiny hand on Mason's arm. She lifted her head sleepily and purred, "Mace? Is everything okay?"

He kissed her on the cheek and cooed softly, "Everything's okay, babygirl. Go back to sleep, now. It's all good, Mack."

She dropped her head to her arm, mumbled a barely audible, "…m'kay….". and scooted herself back until she was nestled contentedly into the folds of Mason's body.

"It's all good, Mack," Mason cooed sweetly and felt her body melt back into the gentle repose of tranquil, "It's all good, babygirl. …..It's all good….."

CHAPTER XXVI

He felt a shaking of his shoulder and snapped awake. Mackenzie was hovering over him, her hair a chaotic tumbles of curls framing an anxious face.

"Mace," she hushed quietly, "something's wrong."

Instantly, he was on his feet, pistol in hand. He didn't know quite what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he now saw. Everything was quiet. The room was exactly as he remembered it. No intruders. No movement. No anything.

"What'd'ya hear, Mack? What'd it sound like?"

"Dunno," came the hesitant reply, "Something…….
different
."

The barricade was still in place, and the kid was still in his chair. Mason knew better than to disregard the girl's incredible senses, but it was clear that whatever danger they might be in wasn't  imminent. He tucked the pistol back into his waistband and retrieved his newly-fashioned pikestaff from where he'd left it leaning against the counter.

"I don't see anything, Mack," he assured her, "Could you have heard something outside? A car, maybe?"

"I know what a car sounds like," she snorted, "It wasn't a car. It sounded like ice."

Ice? How the hell does
ice
sound?

"Like ice freezing?" He chanced.

"No," she said nervously, "Like ice cracking."

Huh? Ice cracking?

Uh oh.….

He looked to the glass front and saw the paper dolls transformed back into human form by the rising sun. But there were more of them than before.
Lots
more. And worse, sometime during the night, they'd rearranged themselves. What had once been a loose assembly of creatures lined up from one end of the building to the other was now a cluster of thirty or more creepers, all huddled to one side. As more were drawn in through the night, the virus that steered them had caused them to gather as close as they could to the nearest living human; in this case, the vile monster tied to the pillar. Now, that tight knot of dead flesh pressed against the glass twenty feet away from the kid with such collective mass that a long, spidery crack had formed along one edge of the window.

Mason grabbed his knapsack from the floor and hurriedly scooped whatever drinks and foodstuffs he could into it.

"We gotta go, babygirl," he said, trying his best to project an air of calm.

Mackenzie couldn't be fooled so easily, but she knew this was not the time for questions. She heeded the seriousness of his tone and replied simply, "Okay, Mace."

Mason swung the bag onto his back and started to guide the girl back toward the kitchen, but then Mackenzie brought them to stop.

"We're just going to leave him?"

There was no doubt to whom she was referring. The kid. That sunovabitch Mason should have
attended
to while Mackenzie slept.

"Yes, we are," Mason replied coldly.

"They'll kill him, Mace."

Mason shrugged his indifference, "Okay."

"Mace, he won't stand a chance."

"He wasn't going to give
us
one," Mason said stiffly.

"
We
are not
him!"

Mason was unmoved. "He's a monster."

"
You're
not."

We don't have time for this, babygirl….

For the first time since meeting her, Mason could feel himself growing impatient with the girl's stubbornness. "Okay, Mack," he said, perhaps more brusquely than he'd intended, "What do you suggest? Bring him with us?"

The girl shuddered. "
No! 
No, he
can't
come with us! But you can't just leave him tied to a chair. You can't, Mace, you just can't."

She was looking blindly up at Mason with her lips drawn taut and her dainty little eyebrows knotted together in a scowl. Mason saw absolute resolution in the set of that face, and he quickly did the math. The way he saw it, he had three options: he could ignore Mackenzie's protests, bundle her in his arms and make for the back door, he could enter into what was sure to be a lengthy and heated debate that would use up precious minutes they didn't have, or he could give in. Knowing instantly that the point was moot from the start, he gave a growl of protest, took firm hold of the girl's hand, and ran her back to the front of the room.

He deposited the girl at the far end of the glass facade, dropped his pikestaff and bag to the ground, and simply stood there with her for several long, eternal moments. Soon enough, those few creatures nearest to them began to slowly gravitate their way, but the main body of the swarm seemed ambivalent. Mason waved his arms and gestured stupidly, and when that failed to elicit the appropriate response, he finally stepped right up to the window and tapped gently on the glass.

The tapping was ridiculous, but getting nearer the swarm did the trick. The creepers moved in slow, stuttered steps, but when they moved as a unit, their motion could be seen as almost fluid in quality. And so, like a sandcastle melting into a rising surf, the nearer edge of the swarm began to dissolve away from the central mass and shift toward this other, closer human.

For better or worse, he'd gotten their attention.

"I can hear them coming," Mackenzie hushed.

"They were all huddled together," Mason tried to keep his voice calm as he watched the dead things gathering mere feet away, "If we spread them out, it'll buy us some time."

The girl thought it over, then beamed a smile, "Hey, that's smart!"

Mason returned to her side and told her honestly, "Actually, it was your idea.
Ice
, remember? A two-ton elephant would never make it across a frozen lake, but two tons of mice…..?"

"That's
really
smart," Mackenzie repeated, genuinely impressed.

Mason pulled a tangle of hair away from her face, "Okay, babygirl, you stay right here. I'll be right back, I promise. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not," she said, sticking out her chin, "Not when I'm with you."

He gave the girl a quick kiss on the cheek, then he was gone. And as soon as he moved, the swarm shifted with him. Two men were a bigger target than a little slip of a girl, so Mason he knew he had mere minutes. Once they all flowed back to a single point, all those mice would be an elephant again. He withdrew the knife from his belt loop even as he ran, and wasted not a second in cutting the cords that secured the kid to the pillar. He roughly tore the tape from the kid's eyes and the one from his mouth, then he put his lips inches from the kid's ear and whispered so that even Mackenzie's bionic ears couldn't hear.

"You don't deserve to live, ass-hole. I should shove this blade between your ribs and let you bleed out like a stuck pig. But you have an angel looking out for you, and she's better than a hundred times you or me."

The kid gasped for air as if he'd been denied it all night long, "Thank you, thank you!" He panted, "I swear, I was just messing with you before. I thought you were going to hurt me, so I was trying to act tough. I swear to
God
, I want to make it right. Just cut me loose and
I'll lead the freaks away and you two can make a break for it."

The kid's mouth was saying the right things, but his eyes invalidated every syllable. Mason knew the kid could hear everything he and Mackenzie had said to each other, so he was parroting what he thought Mason wanted to hear. But he'd overplayed it. A normal person would have begged to stay with the group instead of volunteering to assist someone else's getaway. The bastard was lying his guts out to save his own skin. But time was quickly running out, so whatever Mason was going to do, he had to do it now. The swarm was already back in a huddle, and he could hear the window creaking ominously under the relentless pressure.

"You're a monster," Mason hushed into the kid's ear, "Your parents should have culled you at birth. They should have left you outside on a cold winter night and let you wither and die. Better a stray dog gets a meal than let you draw another breath." He slit the tape binding one of the kid's wrists and elbows, then he drew back, scowling angrily.

"Please!" The kid mewled like a bleating lamb, "
Please!
  I swear, I'll lead them away so you guys can run!
Please
, let me go! You'll never see me
again, I
swear!"

Mason flipped the knife around in his hand and hovered it over the kid like an Aztec priest about to plunge it into his chest and pull out his still-beating heart. And then he wavered.

It would so easy to kill the punk. Kill him now, and there would be one less human to attract the swarm. Kill him now, and they might even lose interest in this place. But then Mackenzie's words came back to haunt him.

We're not him…..

Mason roared his frustration and brought the knife down in an arc toward the kid's chest. At the very last moment, he angled it away and plunged it into the narrow gap between the kid's legs, burying the tip of the blade in the chair. The kid shrieked like a little girl, and Mason took some solace in seeing the kid's crotch darken with wetness. At last, he glared bloody murder at the kid and stepped back.

"If I see you again," he cursed in a hush, "I'll kill you slowly and piss on your corpse."

The message couldn't be more clear. Mason could have killed him, but didn't. Now, the kid was on his own. He would cut the rest of his bindings loose, or not. Either way, he had a fighting chance, so Mason's promise was fulfilled.

The kid collected himself and managed a shaky, "Thank you, sir! Thank you for sparing my worthless life!" He grabbed hold of the knife, pulled it free from the chair with some effort, then turned to the tape holding his other wrist. "I
swear,
I'll be good! You can take that to the
bank!
Yessir, I won't let you down!" He slit the tape around his elbow, and once he had both arms free, he dropped his head between his knees and turned the knife to the bindings around his legs. "I promise you, sir, you'll never see me again!"

After that last lie, everything happened in a blur. Mason was just returning to gather Mackenzie back under his wing and retrieve his belongings from the floor when he saw the girl's eyes widen and her body stiffen. At that exact moment, she drew in a sharp breath and gasped, "Mace.…."

Mason heard it a half-second later. Ice cracking. The elephant was breaking through! In seconds, there would be an almighty crash and then a rush.

Mason gathered Mackenzie under his wing and hurried her away from the window, but the kid in the chair was too preoccupied with his own dark thoughts to realize the danger. He had just cut one of his legs loose when the two passed by, and so focused was he on revenge that before he'd even bothered to cut his other leg free, he saw his opportunity disappearing, and he acted. He turned the blade toward Mason and took one clumsy lunge at the man, but his intent far surpassed his reach and all he succeeded in doing was toppling the chair over sideways. He hit the floor hard, but like a man possessed, he then took to scrabbling along the floor after the current target of his hatred, dragging the chair behind him and ranting like a madman.

"I'll
kill
you, motherfucker!" He howled, slavering like a wild beast and hacking at Mason's legs with the knife. "I'll fucking
kill
you and eat your fucking
heart!"

Mason leapt out of the way of the blade and kicked at the kid's hand, but the blow was glancing, and the kid held the knife in an iron grip. He tucked Mackenzie behind him and backed slowly away, watching the kid's face turn as red as blood.

"I'll fucking kill you,
motherfucker!"
  The monster roared, "And then I'll do things to your sweet little girl that will have you spinning in your
grave!"

Mason kicked again, but missed. The kid continued to come at him, slithering along the floor like a snake and dragging the chair along like some kind of bizarre pull toy, and it was all Mason could do to back away step by step, mere inches away from the slashing blade.

"I'm gonna kill you, you
sonuvabitch!"
The kid howled, "I'm gonna cut you up, and then I'm gonna—….."

The kid's words caught in his throat, and he froze like an insect suddenly engulfed in amber. A loud, ominous
crrraaaack!
filled the air, then came the sound of hail on a tin roof.

The glass had finally given way. The swarm was in!

Those creatures at the very front were caught off-balance when the glass shattered, and they fell to the floor in a heap, but the swarm didn't hesitate. On they came, snapping their jaws, clawing the air, and trampling over their fallen comrades with as much regard as a man treading on fallen leaves.

The kid looked over his shoulder at the advancing swarm, and suddenly consumed by his own terror, he immediately forgot all thoughts of vengeance and took to half-sliding, half-scuttling away from the oncoming creatures, dragging the cumbersome chair by an ankle and squealing like a frightened girl.