Transformation (16 page)

“You know I need you.”

“What?”

“Despite appearances, it’s getting harder for me to move. Every time I have to move after being dormant for any length of time I feel a great resistance.”

“Then why do you stop moving?”

He turned and looked at her when he spoke. A rarity.

“Because they want me to.”

“What’s going to happen to you? To us?”

Trevor went silent. Ellen was about to leave when he spoke again.

“I need to talk to Cooper. Soon.”

§

Cooper was on the roof with Trevor. Ellen left earlier to get some sleep.

“So we’ll say our goodbyes and part ways in the morning?” Cooper looked out over the darkness, the chill wind felt raw and relentless, not refreshing as it had always been to him. He stood next to Trevor on the edge of the roof.

“Yeah. Seems to be the best course of action.”

“OK. Well, I’ll be back and forth to check on you and Ellen.”

“Yeah. About that. You leaving. I need you to do something for me, quickly. I’m not sure how long I’ll be . . . here. Be myself.”

Cooper knew all the chitchat before this was Trevor not getting to the point.

“What’s that mean?”

“I survived that infection, but it’s still inside me. I don’t know what it is. It might be alien for all I know. But it has gradually . . . It’s hard to explain but I can feel my body being dissolved, I think. My brain isn’t right. I feel like I am becoming less me and more . . . “

“Them? The dead?”

“No. No not them, but . . . I can’t explain it. Whatever has the dead walking around is what is in me. They’re all dead so whatever it is controls them totally. With me it’s more of a . . . It started as a power enhancer at first but it has evolved into a battle and I’m losing. I think this is more than a virus. There seems to be some sort of intelligence behind it.”

“What does this mean? For you? For us?”

“For me. I’m dissolving.”

Trevor raised his hand and Cooper could see where his fingertips had started to taper to sharp points that continued until they turned into fine silvery threads that glistened in the moonlight. There were other threads coming off him and the more Cooper looked at him the more threads he could see glistening in the scant light. A strand brushed his face, then another. Or was it a spider web or the strand from a webworm?

“Shit,” Cooper hissed as he wiped the strands from his face.

“I am dissolving. I can feel it.”

“Is it painful?”

“No, just scary. But even that, my emotions, are flat. I should be in a full panic right now.”

“What do you need me to do?” Cooper asked, still unsure what Trevor was talking about. He was worried that Trevor was asking him to help commit suicide.

“I’m not sure exactly. I know there are others, humans, non-infected humans, that have the potential to communicate with whatever this is. I‘ve seen them on an island. There are other people out there getting things up and running on an island. They are bringing things online, things that this thing is connected to. I have a connection to these things, to the world around me, I mean the entire world, but I’m not one of them. I can feel or sense things mechanical, even biological, on a minute scale. I can manipulate things sometimes, but mostly I am an observer. I can sense them organizing, learning, growing stronger. They are on the cusp of a big change. It’s like watching a rat explore its environment and discover a simple latch. It fumbles with it until it gets it open, almost by accident at first. But even a rat has the ability to learn from that experience and in the next room there is a more complex latch, but he applies what he’s learned and can open that latch almost as fast as the last one. As the rat progresses, he learns and gains more and more access. He’s not any smarter, he’s still just a rat, but eventually he’s going to get into the control room where he can run across buttons, chew through wires, and generally create serious problems.”

Cooper was still trying to make sense of what Trevor was saying. He knew he wasn’t talking about a literal rat, but wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

“I don’t know what you need to do but these things have to be stopped. They are not aware yet that they will be able to…well do whatever they want. Once they evolve to a more complex level, they’ll have the potential to destroy you, all of us.”

“What things are coming online? You mean computers?” He thought of Jeff and how he was starting to get computers running. He was also talking about accessing satellites. He was sure there were others in the world doing the same stuff.

“Yeah. That’s almost certainly the best tool to try and control them, maybe the only one.”

“Then what?” Cooper didn’t know much about computers, other than how to hook them up and turn them on. Jeff was the only person in the world he knew that might be able make sense of all this and then actually be able to do something about it.

“I’m not sure, but you need to do something. If you don’t . . . “

“This thing might gain access to nukes? Things like that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been able to unlock a car by…I want to say using but that’s not accurate. Maybe influencing, yeah influencing them to move a latch or close a circuit. But that’s almost impossible now. As they evolve, they aren’t easily influenced. In fact, the last time or two I tried I sensed an attack coming on, almost as if I am the virus interrupting their normal functioning. I think that’s why they are removing me.”

Trevor looked at Cooper. His face portrayed a depth of sadness Cooper hadn’t seen before on anyone. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but it looked like more webs were coming off Trevor. When he tried to move, they were all over him. He flailed and swiped at them.

“OK. So I need to do something. We just don’t know what that something is or how to do it.” But Cooper was already sure that what he needed to do was go find Jeff ASAP.

“Unfortunately, that is exactly correct. And you need to do it very quickly.” Trevor held up his hand. It had many more strands coming off it. “Very quickly for all our sakes.”

“But tomorrow you and Ellen are going to the houses south of here? Are you able to do that? Will she be OK?”

“I can get her there. I haven’t told her any of this, but I can tell she knows what’s happening. She knows I’ll be gone in a matter of days.” Trevor wiped the webs away from his face.

“I feel selfish. I want every moment I can get with her, but that means she has to watch me melt away.”

Cooper didn’t like the plan where his sister went off alone with a corpse and a guy infected with something that was dissolving him away. She would be alone at the house in the middle of nowhere.

“Maybe you should stay here and Ellen should come with me. It’s not fair to her to have to deal with this.”

“I’ll be OK.” Ellen startled Cooper and Trevor as she came from the dark stairwell and crossed the roof. “I’m not leaving him here like this.”

“Then I’m staying.” Cooper said.

“No.” Trevor’s voice was strong. “You have to go and try to do something.” He calmed a bit. “Look, Ellen will be safer with me than with you on the road. I can get her to the houses tomorrow and get her settled before I … before I go. She might only be alone for a day or so depending on how quick you get back.”

“I’ll be fine for a few days,” Ellen hugged her brother. “Really. You know I can take care of myself.”

Cooper looked at her sideways with a grin, “You mean like when you tried to pet that rat?” He knew this story upset her.

The hug ended and she pushed him away. “I was five you jerk.”

“Still, trying to pet a greasy rat in the backyard…”

They stopped the banter. It was pleasant but their hearts weren’t in it.

Trevor hung his head.

“Let me try and explain everything I saw on that island. I’m not sure it will help, but I think I can actually tell you about where it is and draw a basic map of it. Whatever you end up doing, you need to do it fast.”

17.

Donna was not dead.

She was in a bread truck. She could smell it. She also knew she was very close to the garage. She had been, and still was, blindfolded as she was carried away by the man. Hanging over his shoulder, she could hear that he was walking through tall grass. She could feel it on her face and arms. She knew about where he was taking her based on her knowledge of the area. Her biggest fear was that she wouldn’t be able to escape before the asshole got back.

Donna had been alone on the second level when the chubby bastard appeared out of nowhere. He wore a black bandanna on his head that was tight and low across his eyebrows, over his ears, and knotted in the back. The top was loose and puffy. Most significantly, he held a gun and was pointing it at her.

“Scream and my friend Alvin starts killing your people.”

Donna tried to ask why. He told her to shut up. Not knowing what else to do, she complied. He gagged her first then tied her up and blindfolded her. He carried her across the second level, tied a rope under her arms, and lowered her to the ground.

When he was straining to lift her off the ground, she fought him but he was strong and her bindings tight. She fell off his shoulder so he kicked her hard in the ribs and knelt next to her to whisper in her ear.

“Stop fighting me and you’ll be OK.” But he was lying. As soon as he returned to the truck, he was going to start taking pieces of her back to the hostages (or soon to be) at the parking garage in order to control them. He had no idea how many people inhabited the structure. In his experience, controlling a large group of people was easier with a hostage than a gun. He also needed to control Alvin.

George was sick. Sick in every sense of the word, but when it came to sexual deviance and cruelty, he was off the charts. By
parts
he didn’t plan to start with a toe or finger, he planned to start with a nipple, then the other one, and if he had to move on it would be to more sensitive parts of her body.

George had come with the almighty Alvin whose plan was to infiltrate so he could see if these were good folks or not. George was supposed to be his backup, get him out of trouble if he needed help. The emergency escape plan was for George to speed up to the structure in the bread truck so Alvin could jump onto the roof and drop into the skylight. George had different plans. He took the black woman as a hostage so he could subdue the group and trade her for the bitch that tore his hair off. He grimaced at the pain. No matter what meds he put on it or how he covered it, it hurt like hell. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. The pain was getting worse by the minute.

He was missing a significant chunk of flesh from his head. The woman had torn a large chunk of his scalp off and several inches of his skull was exposed. The sizable hole continued to rip and widen. As the wound widened, the pain increased. He was sure his injury was never going to heal up. Even if modern medicine was available it would be a long slow painful process to repair the damage. He knew he would have to end it all soon and his only regret was the pain would diminish the enjoyment of his last few hours on earth.

He grimaced the entire time he built the bomb, blinking back tears of pain. Blood trickled down his forehead, some down the left side of his face, and mingled with his tears. The pain was almost unbearable and drove him forward on his quest for revenge. It fueled his hate and desperation.

His plans had been tentative since he and Alvin left and they didn’t start to take shape until he was actually on sight. One thing that didn’t change was that he planned to make that scalp ripping bitch watch him torture and kill all of her friends and then have some fun with her before doing the same to her. He wasn’t quite sure in what order he should do things, but he was going to stretch it out and enjoy it as long as possible.

He was smiling and placing the last bits of the makeshift bomb in place. He planned to use the bomb to bring down the structure over him as a tomb. He wasn’t going to be just another body with a hole in his head laying around on the ground. He was going out in a style befitting his greatness.

Then Alvin showed up.

“What are you doing here?” Alvin hissed. He looked around to see if any of the residents of the structure were about.

“Change of plans, Alvin.” George said as he pulled his gun. “No way that bitch is going to go unpunished.”

“But these seem to be good people. We need to . . . “

“We need to do shit.”

“Leave now. Before someone sees you.” Alvin looked down.

“What is all this? What are you doing here?” When he looked up again, George wasn’t pointing the gun at him. He had it by his side and he was smiling.

Alvin heard a female voice coming from behind him.

“Um . . . Hello. Who are you?” It was Mary. She stopped about twenty feet away and looked suspicious. She saw George, the gun, the look in his eyes and turned to run.

George lifted the pistol.

“No!” Alvin ran after Mary, caught her, clapped a hand across her mouth, and dragged her back over by George.

“I won’t hurt you,” Alvin was whispering in her ear. “Please stop struggling.”

Mary seemed to relax. Alvin held on tight.

“I am going to let you go so we can talk, OK? Please don’t scream or try to run. That crazy bastard will shoot you.”

Mary nodded and Alvin let go. He turned to George.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Told you. Pay back.”

“With a hostage at gun point? A bomb?”

Mary watched the two men argue in hushed tones wondering what she should do. She wanted to run or scream a warning but was too afraid. She didn’t want to get shot.

Suddenly the fat man with the bloodied face and odd head covering, cracked Alvin in the head with his gun. Alvin was out cold. She took the opportunity and tried to escape.

George grabbed Mary by the hair as she tried to flee and pulled her off her feet. He grabbed her by the throat and squeezed hard. He wanted to keep her quiet, and second he wanted to kill her. But she fought hard, kicking and scratching. He could see she was trying to scream and with perverse pleasure squeezed harder. He dropped his gun to get both hands on her neck so he could finish the job. He heard Alvin moaning and looked up. Alvin was stirring and soon to be conscious.

Suddenly the blonde reached up and grabbed his bandanna. She pulled with all her might and tore it off. The blood had dried, cementing wounded flesh and cloth together, and when she tore it off his wounds were violently reopened.

The pain brought a stream of tears to his eyes as he fought the intense urge to scream and vomit at the same time. He was losing his grip on the woman, Alvin was coming to, and the pain was so great he was sure he was about to pass out.

George knew it was over. It was now or never. If she got away, she could warn her people, possibly go for the gun. His only option left to exact any revenge was to set off the bomb while he still could and take the structure down with all the assholes in it. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and with his thumb made a bright flame appear. He lit the gas soaked towel leading into the metal drum full of fertilizer and smiled at Alvin just as he opened his eyes.

§

Donna was tied to large metal racks welded into the back of the bread truck. Shortly after the asshole left, she heard a massive explosion. It was close by, and she worried about her husband, her friends, and wondered what the hell had happened.

She fought against her bonds and only succeeded in abrading her wrists. She decided to work on the blindfold. She was gagged so tightly she knew she would need her hands free to get the gag off.

She managed to get the blindfold up and off of one eye. Yep, a bread truck. At least now she could see her bindings. She was tied tightly. The man knew how to tie a knot. Her hands were cold and numb. The ropes were immovable. She was unable to slip off, undo, or cut through the ropes. The truck was empty. No knives laying conveniently next to her on the floor. She relaxed as much as she could, periodically trying her bonds.

Hours later, Donna was in pain from the abrasions on her wrists. She’d spent a lot of her time looking over the knots and examining the vertical metal thing she was tied to. It was a solid support for the bread trays that slid into it. The sun was starting to set and she dreaded being in the dark alone.

The night came and the quiet was as complete as the darkness. She considered yelling or kicking the truck walls to attract attention, but was worried she would only attract the dead. Mostly she was worried about Ron and wanted to know he was OK.

When the sun dropped, the interior of the truck went from cool to cold and Donna shivered throughout the night. The bare metal seemed to suck the heat from her body and worse still she’d wet herself. Unable to keep it in, she had no choice but to let it go. She was getting really hungry too.

As she struggled Donna knew she was hurting herself, but she had to keep struggling. It was disheartening that the ropes showed no sign of loosening but that didn’t stop her in her pursuit of freedom. She tried to control herself, but occasionally she’d lose it and fought violently against her bindings hard, abrading her skin even more. She was bleeding and could feel her blood on her arms and wrists as it made things more slippery, then sticky, until the blood started to dry and things started to feel tighter than before.

Several hours passed and the truck was sweltering. Donna was starved, dehydrated, and her body hurt like hell—the parts she could still feel. Her hands and feet were cold and prickly. They were barely getting any blood in them. She was starting to lose hope.

As she sat, back to the vertical support, hands crossed and tied behind her back, Donna looked at her feet. She was tied at the ankles, but not tied down. She could bend her legs, but that didn’t seem to help her situation other than to offer some comfort. She was getting weak and knew she had to find a way out soon or she would die. Once again, she struggled against her bonds and endured the pain and discomfort. Suddenly she felt a new pain.

The metal edge of the bread rack she was tied to had snagged and torn her clothes as she struggled and finally it hit her skin. She winced at the pain as the metal edge scratched her. Her immediate thought was that she might be able to use the sharp edge to cut her ropes. But try as she might, Donna couldn’t get the ropes situated in the right way so she could effectively saw at them. She ceased her exertions and sobbed.

Donna was beyond uncomfortable and past desperate. She had hoped to hear people calling her name as they searched for her, but all had remained silent. She was on the verge of yelling, pounding on the metal floor beneath her and was surprised she hadn’t yet done that. But she felt too vulnerable. If she attracted the dead and they got into the truck, she was dead in the worst possible way. Donna bent forward in resignation. She had no more energy to fight.

Donna brought her knees up to her face and almost got them close enough that she could rest her head in them. But even that small comfort eluded her. She started to squirm, trying to get blood to circulate in her body. She pushed out with her feet, brought them in, and kicked out again. As she pushed against the floor, the motion gave her the idea that she might be able to stand if she wanted to. And she did so fairly easily when she tried.

Standing was wonderful. The blood flowed back into her body, and she could breathe easier. Once standing, she could bend forward and see out of the front windshield. She saw nothing but trees.

To bend forward she had to slide her hands down the support. She decided to stretch her back and the back of her legs so she continued bending forward, her hands getting lower until she could place her forehead against her shins. This was a stretch she did all the time before she ran, just not with her hands tied behind her back.

She could smell her own urine with her face down by her soaked jeans. She was itchy and uncomfortable and wished she could take them off. With her face down on her shins, she could see the bindings on her ankles. She wished she could use her teeth to work on the ropes but was still too far from them.

As she started to straighten up, it occurred to her that she could get herself into a different position now. She bent all the way back down and picked up one foot and placed it back through her arm and then did the same for the next. She could now lift her legs up and stand briefly on her head. She brought her legs over and was laying on her back with her hands above her head. Not only was she more comfortable she could examine the ropes on her wrist and more importantly position them on the edge of the metal support. With renewed hope, she started sawing at her bonds.

She could only manage small slow strokes, but now she knew she was going to escape. Even if she had to saw at those ropes for hours on end, at least now she had a goal, a way out. She wasn’t going to stop until she was free. But even if she were free of her bindings, she would still be trapped inside the truck.

The explosion had attracted the dead for miles and miles around. Hundreds of thousands of corpses were converging on the structure from all over the city. But there were already a few clumps of the dead nearby and one of them was making its way towards the structure just yards from the bread truck.