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Authors: Keith Rommel

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The Cursed Man (21 page)

BOOK: The Cursed Man
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“I hate it down here.”

He swept the light back and forth, forgetting the pain in his leg for the moment. Jumping back, he saw that Terry was lying on the floor face up with his legs folded under him toward his torso.

“Terry,” Michael said as he shined the flashlight over him. He didn't see any visible injuries, and there wasn't any blood. He squatted next to Terry and tried to roll him flat. His body was stiff. Michael scrambled to his feet and shuffled toward the exit.

“Slow down,” Anna said. She descended the steps and settled on the bottom stair.

Michael turned and pointed toward Terry. “It's Terry. He's on the floor, and I think he's dead.”

“Oh, he's dead.” Anna shook her head. “Everyone thinks he's away on vacation.” She smiled. “I would like to keep it that way.”

Michael looked toward Terry and then turned back to Anna. “I don't understand. We can't just leave him there.” He started to step past Anna.

Anna stood in front of Michael. “Think about what you're doing,” Anna said. “I would hope you wouldn't get in my way after I've been so nice to you.”

“What are you talking about?” Michael's brows wrinkled. He pointed at Terry. “A man is on the floor over there dead.”

“Yes, he is,” Anna said. “And it's because of me.”

“What do you mean because of you?”

Anna moved off the bottom step. “It's exactly as I said. I did it.”

Michael pushed himself past Anna, his eyes wide with fear. He struggled up the steps.

“Michael?” Anna asked, and he stopped. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

Suddenly his knees buckled, and he grabbed at a sharp stabbing pain that came from somewhere deep in his gut.

“I don't think you want to know what I'm doing to you,” Anna said. “It is merely a show so you know that I'm not fooling around. I am who Alister says.”

“Please,” he begged, gasping. “Make it stop and I'll do whatever you need.”

And like a switch being flipped, the pain disappeared. Michael sucked in a deep breath and sat on the top step. He felt his abdomen and couldn't find any pain. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at Anna. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she stood by the makeshift wall.

Michael forced himself to stand, and he went to her. Anna held out her hand, and it began to steam.

“The hot air is interacting with the coldness of my skin. After all, when one is dead, their skin does not generate heat.” She moved her hand to her side. “Alister seemed to have picked up on this right away.”

“How…” Michael said, fighting all the questions.  “Why?”  He lowered his chin.  “I don't understand.”

“I've come to claim my prize,” Anna said. “Because if someone can show me that much affection, then what they have to offer must be limitless. I have been around since the creation of life, and I have never experienced anything like it. I won't let it go. Not ever.”

“But why do you have to kill?” Michael said. “He is yours to take if that is what you want. I won't stand in your way.”

“Everyone's life is mine to take. It is what I was created to do. To kill.” She smiled, and it quickly faded. “Don't take what I've come to do personally. Think of it as business.”

Michael swallowed hard. “And what have you come to do?”

“Create utopia,” Anna said. “Do my bidding and live. Cross me one time and your wife and daughter will suffer immeasurably. Not a word to anyone.”

Michael nodded. “Where do we fit into your utopia?”

Anna smirked, turned away and started up the metal steps. “That depends on you and your level of cooperation.”

 

 

Present day.

 

“That is how the killings began,” Michael said. “I'm sorry I didn't believe you.” He began to cry. “But how could someone ever hope to understand what you claimed to be true?”

“Who did she tell you she was?”

Michael shook his head. “She's death incarnate, Alister, and you are her prize.”

Alister swore he felt his heart stop, yet he continued to live.

 

 

The past
.

 

“I want you to go home and get your wife and daughter,” Anna said to Michael, and she turned away. “You have one hour to make it there and back. If you deviate from my instructions at all, you will be introduced to a heart attack.” She clasped her hands behind her back, whistled and started to walk away.

“Oh, wait,” she said, spinning on her heels. “I should warn you, though. I've begun to make my utopia, and there are few who will live long enough to see it.” She pointed to the clock on the wall. “Hurry along. Your hour starts now.”

Michael looked at his watch.

Ten o'clock.

He hurried from the hospital. His handicap kept his ability to move quickly at a minimum. Minutes later, he got into his four-cylinder economy car wishing he had a Porsche. Starting the engine and throwing the gear into drive, he stomped down on the gas pedal and the front wheels skidded. The car raced out of the parking lot and onto residential streets.

Vehicle accidents littered the roads and dead bodies were scattered as far as the eye could see, dropped wherever they were when death struck. The devastation was surreal, like watching a horror film. He tried not to notice details but couldn't muster the will to look away.

Michael had to slow down as the maze of cars tightened. He weaved in and out of tight paths, and a vehicle that had run headlong into a telephone pole stole his attention. Its hood was crinkled, its windshield cracked and steam bellowed from the front end. The driver's head was bloody and pushed into the steering wheel. His weight engaged the horn, causing a constant blare.

The man slowly lifted his head and looked at Michael. “Please, help me.” Flaps of flesh hung from his face, and his wounds bled in a thick, oozing stream.

Michael trembled and shouted out.  “Damn it.”  He clutched the steering wheel and slammed on the gas, and the small car collided with stalled vehicles, bouncing off them as it carved its way out of the metal and rubber graveyard.

The rearview mirror showed the increasing distance Michael placed between himself and that man, and he barked his displeasure of having to do that.

Michael turned on the radio and tapped the program button in search of a distraction. Every station had static.

“My God,” Michael said as he turned the radio off. He concentrated on maneuvering around clusters of stalled cars, and he tried to keep his focus away from the people that ran after his vehicle. Their screams of desperation made his skin crawl.

Michael directed the vehicle toward his lawn and pounded the brakes. He tried to run into his house but could only manage a hurried wobble.

“It's Michael. Where are you?”

A distant horn blared, a house alarm wailed and the desperate shouts of those near and far away distracted him.

Michael climbed the stairs. He tried the bathroom door and it was locked. “Open the door. I've come to get you out of here.”

His wife opened the door. His daughter stood behind her. She held a large knife.

“I don't know what's happening,” she said, and her body shook. “People have been running around in hysterics. They're dying out there.”

Michael eased the knife out of her hand and set it down on the sink. “Come,” he said, and he picked up his daughter. “We have to get away from here.” He looked at his watch.

10:33.

He directed his wife down the stairs and to his vehicle.

“Is this some sort of an attack?”

“I'll explain along the way,” he said. He shielded his daughter from the chaos. “Keep your eyes closed, baby.”

His wife climbed into the back seat and lay prone. Michael placed his daughter next to her. “Keep your heads down, and don't look up no matter what you hear.” He closed the door behind them.

“Michael,” his neighbor Ralph said. “Thank God you came home.” He ran over to Michael. Blood leaked from his ears and stained his shirt. “There's something wrong with Linda. You've got to help me.”

“There is nothing I can do for you, Ralph. I'm sorry.” He rounded the car and opened the driver's door.

“Please!” Ralph said, and he grabbed his arm. “Help me get her into your car. We can take her to a doctor.”

“Have you looked at yourself?” He shrugged off Ralph's grip. He looked to his wife and daughter, who continued to hide in the back seat. “You're in no better shape than she is.”

“She's suffering terribly and the phones aren't working. You've got to help me.”

“I can't,” Michael said as he attempted to get into the car. Ralph yanked his arm. The force threw him to the ground. The flesh on his knees and elbows ripped open.

“We've known you for over twenty years, and this is how you treat us?” Ralph kicked Michael in the ribs. Michael gasped.

“I'll kill you, you bastard!”

Michael struggled to his feet, balled his fist and, with all of his might, swung it into the center of Ralph's face. With the sound of a crack, Ralph yelped and fell flat on his back.

10:41

“I'm sorry, old friend,” Michael said as he tired to shake the sting from his knuckles. “But I have to worry about my family.”

Michael jumped into his vehicle and sped toward the hospital, uncertain if he had enough time to make it back.

 

 

Present day.

 

“I can't take much more,” Michael said, and he sat on the floor with his back against the wall. “I'm so damn tired.”

Michael's eyes were so puffy and red that Alister didn't know how he could see out of them. “How long ago did this start happening?”

Michael looked to Alister from somewhere far away.

“Michael? When did this first happen?”

“I can't even think. I just need to get some sleep.”

“I need you to answer my question.”

“I don't know.” Michael opened his hands.  “Three, maybe four days ago. The days started blending together, and she won't let me sleep.”

Alister knelt beside Michael. “What else does she have you doing?”

“Clearing the hospital grounds of the dead.”

“How many?”

“I think she got all of them.”

Alister stood and ran taut fingers through his hair.

“She put together a group of people that begged for their lives. She made them work.”

“Doing what?”

Michael shook his head. “I don't know, mainly removing dead plant life outside your room. Then she made them put in living plants. That is when she took you outside.”

Alister paced the floor. “I knew it.”

Michael looked at the director's lifeless body and slapped his hands over his ears. “The sound of his blood dripping off the desk is driving me crazy.”

Alister forced Michael's hands away from his ears. “She's going to kill you like she did everyone else. Get yourself together.”

“I can't,” Michael said. “I don't have the energy. Just let me sleep for a while.”

“No.  We need to kill her; it's the only way.”

Michael shook his head. “We can't kill something that is already dead.”

“She's vulnerable,” Alister said. “She had to give up something to come here, and I think I know what that is. I can't do this alone.”

Michael rubbed his eyes. “OK.”  He drew a deep breath and stood. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to distract her.”

“OK.” Michael nodded his head and swallowed hard. “But don't forget she has my wife and daughter.”

Chapter 29

 

STALLING TACTICS

 

 

 

Alister looked at the simulated scenery outside his window. He poked a stiff finger off the glass as he spoke. “What I see is a bunch of plants that are alive, and I know they were dead before you boarded my window.”

“Alister,” Anna said as she shook her head, “think about what you saw while you were outside. Everything was alive.”

Anna moved close to him and he turned so he could see her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't like the idea of her standing behind him. Her nearness had changed from a feeling of comfort and acceptance to one of danger and concern.

“I feel the heat from a flame that doesn't burn.” He looked at her and widened his eyes in anxiety. “That is what you've come here to tell me, isn't it?”

Anna blew out a gentle sigh. “Let us not harp on the same subject over and over.”

“Don't patronize me,” Alister said. “You put a patient in an orderly's uniform—”

Anna reeled. “A patient in an orderly's—”

“—I could smell the smoke from the fire on his clothing.”

“There was no fire.”

“Ah, so there it is.” Alister nodded. “And that must mean there weren't any bodies being burnt either.”

“I can bring Michael so you can question him if you'd like.”

“Don't bother.”

“I would leave the room if you somehow thought I'd sway him.”

“He would still lie because you kill people and he's probably afraid of you.”

Anna pointed to herself. “I kill people?” She shook her head. “That's ridiculous.” She started for the door. “I'm going to get Michael.”

“And I told you not to bother.”

Anna turned to Alister and opened her arms wide in question. “What would he have to gain by lying to you?”

Alister folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “You don't get it. It's not a question of what he would have to gain by lying but rather what he would have to lose by telling me the truth.”

“How can I defend myself against your accusations?”

“I could see his fear,” Alister said. “I had that look once, and it was when I first realized I'd gotten your attention.”

BOOK: The Cursed Man
13.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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