Transformation (21 page)

Ron was in complete darkness. He’d been laying on the floor and when he put his hand out to stand up he hit the crushed can and it clattered loudly across the floor. Startled, he sat still a moment longer.

Ron finally stood and went to the door, hands out in the darkness. He found the door, felt for the cracks and wasn’t able to get his fingers between the boards. He needed a way to get through the space and try and lift the lock off the latch—if it was actually not locked. He wasn’t even sure of that. He remembered the can and went to find it. The room was no more than ten by twelve feet, but it took longer than he expected to find the can. He had to feel for it in the dark and for all he knew he was passing his hand within an inch of it. He finally found it.

Ron wasn’t sure how to use the can. He’d planned to tear it and try to fold the aluminum into an L shaped tool. Working very carefully because the edges of the can would be razor sharp and he was working blind. He easily tore the can apart and managed to get a four inch strip of aluminum. He folded the strip twice and then bent it at one end to form an L. Back at the door he tried pushing it through the spaces—easy enough. He spent quite a while trying, failing, reshaping the crude tool, and sweating in the complete black. The air was getting stale in the small room. He’d been trying to lift the lock up and off of the latch and the thought occurred to him that he could try to push the lock up from the bottom. When he tried this, he managed to get the lock up an inch or so several times. He wasn’t able to get it past the hasp. The tool wasn’t strong enough.

He rested for a minute, but couldn’t sit still. He went back to the door and tried again. This time he shortened the tool by folding it in half. This made it stiffer and stronger. It was harder to get the tool between the boards because of its thickness and much harder to move it upwards. So Ron pushed hard and the tool slid slowly upwards between the boards until it suddenly broke free. It shot upwards and startled Ron. He wasn’t sure what happened exactly, but he heard a loud clatter as the lock dropped to the floor on the other side of the door.

Ron pushed and the door swung open smoothly on oiled hinges. He made his way down the dark hallway hoping the outer door wasn’t locked. He was fumbling for the knob when he heard voices. He bolted back to his cell and closed the door as quietly as possible just as the outer door opened. He’d lost his chance for freedom. They were coming for him and would notice the unlocked door. If he was lucky, they would turn and run to find him without checking the cell first. He stood, back to the wall waiting to see what would happen. Hoping for some long overdue luck.

§

Weed tried the door to his bedroom. Locked. He expected as much, but no problem. It was a keyed lock and the wooden sill blocked the spring-loaded bolt from access. His buck knife made quick work of things as he used it to pry the sill from the doorframe. Easy. He used the blade to push the spring-loaded bolt in. The door swung open. Easy again.

He walked like a cat. The cheap industrial carpet was thin as paper but helped do the job of making his footfalls completely silent. He was half amused and half pissed that the popping of his old joints foiled any effort at stealth.

Weed tried the door. It was open. He was in and like a shadow—an old creaky, popping, bloated shadow. He drew his knife and was at Odin’s bedside in a few steps. Wasting no time he dropped on the young man’s body, his buck knife entered his throat as his left hand clamped across his mouth. The weight of his body held the man down and he only struggled for a moment. He bled out quick as Weed hit the artery first try.

Weed stood, hardly winded.
That was easy.
He thought. And he thought maybe it was too easy for a Nazi in the center of his own stronghold. But he’d done his share of throat cutting and he was good. It was usually this easy. Trick was not to slash but drive the blade into the throat and twist. If you don’t feel that arterial spray, you start to saw one way or the other till the job's done. He wiped the blood off his right arm where it had squirted on him. He clicked his fire stick to get a better look around. He hoped to find weapons primarily. He saw a stack of cash, got that rush and went to grab it, then stopped.
Old habits,
he thought and smiled at the strong compulsion to take it even though it was nothing more than a worthless pile of paper.

With a loud click, the room was flooded with light and Weed’s pants were almost flooded with piss. He spun, ready for a fight. Odin was entering his room and Weed immediately wondered who the fuck he’d just killed.

22.

The night was hellish for Donna. It was pitch black, freezing cold, and the dead arrived and moaned and pounded on the sides of the truck relentlessly. But the worst part of it by far was the fact that she could hear the dead pounding on and rattling the truck’s doors. They slid open and she was petrified that they weren’t locked or latched. They rattled loudly as if they were ready to fall off.

She worked on her bindings off and on all night. It helped her stay warm until the sun came up and warmed things up. She was exhausted, starving, and hadn’t managed to saw through her bonds. The ropes around her wrists were a big mess of fibers all frayed and fluffy. This made it harder and harder to saw through on the edge of the metal rack. The edge was dull and barely cut to begin with.

Finally, Donna pulled hard and with a ripping sound managed to break the restraints on her wrists. She attacked her ankle restraints and was soon free.

The dead were agitated and she could see them in the front window beating on the smeared and befouled windshield. She looked out of the small rear windows. There were corpses as far as she could see.

She knew she wasn’t too far from the garage but could see no sign of it from the truck. She seemed to be in the midst of several large bushes that restricted her view.

Now she was faced with the task of getting back to the garage. While it felt a world better to be free and walking about, Donna was weak and hurting. She had trouble thinking straight and wasn’t sure just how she was going to get back to the garage. With the dead all around, she couldn’t just open the door and leave. And her fears of what happened at the structure were not diminished and in fact grew as she had to time to ruminate.

She felt a breeze from the skylight and decided to try and get on the roof for a better view. When she twisted the latch, it let out a loud squeak. As one the dead moaned louder and redoubled their pounding. She pushed the skylight up and open.

From the roof Donna could see the structure and it was very close. She was just on the other side of the interstate. The truck was hidden among several large bushes between the two sections of the overpass. She lay on the roof for a moment, breathing fresh air and thinking of what her next move should be. The overpass was too . . .

Her mind jumped to another thought, so obvious she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. She slid back down through the skylight, hoping the keys would be in the ignition.

They were.

Donna came between the seats and plopped down behind the wheel. The dead pounded louder and pressed their faces on the glass around her as she turned the key. The truck lurched forward, knocking many of the dead off their feet. They never stood again as those behind them surged forward and on top of them.

She was driving a manual and it was in gear. She’d never learned how to drive one but she knew the basics. She pressed the clutch in and turned the key again. The engine started with a roar that briefly drowned out the moans of the dead. She gently let up on the clutch—gently, slowly—until it was all the way out. The truck never moved. She pressed it back in, grabbed the stick, pushed it into a gear and repeated the process but the engine died.

Again, Donna started the truck, tried another gear, and tried the clutch again. The truck moved a little but felt like it was going to stall again. She pressed the clutch back in and experimented a few times until she found a gear that moved the truck easily. She drove at a snail’s pace—a zombie’s pace actually as the dead had no trouble keeping up with her—because she dared not change gears. She didn’t have too far to go, and she was moving so she left well enough alone.

Donna crept up to the structure, a line of admirers trailing from the rear of the truck, and drove right to the elevator shaft and cut the engine. Within minutes she was through the skylight and on the second level.

She was running towards the closest up ramp when she spotted the blast crater. She hadn’t forgotten about the explosion she heard but seeing the crater here, all the supplies scattered, caused her to stop and put her hands over her mouth. Of all the scenarios she’d imagined while trapped in the truck the explosion had always happened outside the structure. This was horrifying to see and she couldn’t imagine what might have happened. She looked about and saw no one. Her joy of being free and home was washed away by a wave of fear and dread. She ran as fast as she was able but not straight up the ramps. She took the nearest stairs up, moving as quietly as possible.

On the way up, Donna stopped at each level to observe from the stairwell. Everything was quiet and her fear and dread intensified. The fear she had for her husband and friends was off the charts, but added to that now was the fear that she’d been left. She couldn’t imagine Ron doing such a thing but she was operating on pure fear and adrenaline and the thought of spending the rest of her life alone, never knowing what happened to the others, was driving her into a full blown panic.

She got to the roof and stealth be damned she started running, heading for the down ramp to the fourth level. In her mad flight forward, the only thing that could stop her did. A gunshot exploded nearby and her shock caused her to trip. She landed on her chest and immediately got back on her feet to keep running. But the gun fired again. The eardrum shattering boom caused her to stop dead. Concrete chips stung her legs and a cloud of dust appeared just inches from her feet.

The adrenaline was draining away and she had no more fight or flight left in her. Donna slowly raised her hands in the air and waited.

23.

Ben jogged to the next exit and was in a vehicle within ten minutes. At the rate Rachael and Cooper were driving, he knew they couldn’t be too far away. There were only so many exits and forks in the road they could take in this area.

He gambled on the two staying on Highway 1 and sped north. Soon he saw their car ahead in the distance. He slowed so as not to be spotted. He couldn’t risk losing them either so it was a constant speed up and slow down game. Ben passed the time imagining how he would take them both at once and burn Rachael first and make Cooper watch. He smiled at the thought. He also wondered how the two hooked up. He wondered where they were going. He wondered how long they would live once they were set on fire. He hoped it was long enough to be worth all the trouble.

§

Cooper drove along slow and easy. It was a pretty day and he developed a habit of trying to see and appreciate anything positive or pleasing. The world had gotten so ugly and scary he needed to see good and beauty and keep it in his life to remain sane and motivated to go on.

“So tell me about the garage people,” Rachael said.

Cooper shot her an amused glance. “Like I said, you seem like a ton of fun. OK, well they are all nice, all of them. You’ll get to meet them so why don’t you tell me about yourself. I grew up in Monterey, you?”

Rachael started to talk, but noticed Cooper looking intently in the rearview mirror.

“Sorry,” he said. “I think we are being followed.”

“Followed?” Rachael turned in her seat and looked out the rear window. “There is a car back there.”

“Looks like a yellow taxi. Who would follow someone in a yellow taxi?” Cooper sped up. “Should we lose them or stop and approach?”

Rachael shrugged. “There is a third option. We can hide and let them pass us.”

Cooper looked at her. “I should have thought of that. A friend and I just recently did that same maneuver. In fact we improved on it.”

§

Ben saw the grey car speed up. Were they on to him? It turned off at the Moss Landing power station. Moss Landing was located in the center of the Monterey Bay and was visible for miles due to its two giant exhaust stacks. On a clear day they could be seen all the way from Pacific Grove to Santa Cruz, the cities that sat at the tip of each end of the bay.

Ben turned off slowly and carefully. He saw the car parked at the far end of the plant. He rolled up slowly and saw Rachael walking around the rear of the building. He sped up to catch her. He saw no sign of Cooper.

Ben turned and stopped about halfway to the end of the building. He didn’t want to alert them if they were right around the corner. He walked quickly and quietly the rest of the way across the rear area of the plant. He turned the corner and at the far end of the building Rachel was standing, looking at something around the corner he couldn’t see. She smiled and looked down. She must be talking to the prick. He started running.

Rachael looked up and saw Ben. She froze for a moment then screamed and ran.

“Cooper run!” She ducked past the corner of the building.

Ben pumped his legs until he was around the corner of the giant complex. They were nowhere in sight. He walked slowly, looking for a hole in the fence, a dip in the ground, anything the two could have hidden in. He looked up at the high fence topped with razor wire. No way she went up and over that. He just knew she was somewhere nearby and hiding with that asshole.

He wondered if they somehow got back to the car. He jogged back and the car was gone. As he approached the taxi, he saw that all four tires were flat.

§

“Holy crap! That was Ben.” Rachael said. “I was scared to death.

“Ben?” Cooper asked.

“I can’t believe he survived that crash.”

“Lucky sonofabitch,” Cooper grumbled. Then louder. “Any sign of him following?”

Rachael was watching until the power plant dropped from sight. “No we have a good head start. By the time he gets a vehicle, I think we’ll be long gone.

“I hope so.” Cooper kept an eye on the road but couldn’t help but take a look back every so often.

They cruised along in silence for a few minutes.

Rachael dozed off, Cooper was driving, deep in thought about what may come next. He looked forward to seeing Ana and Lisa. He really liked Rachael. He felt a growing bond between them, something special, he just didn’t know quite what it was yet. He told himself he wasn’t hoping for anything romantic, wouldn’t make a move on her because it would complicate things, but if she should happen to throw herself on him… He stopped himself. He had to stop himself. He had to see Ana first and see how she felt about the two of them. It was the right thing to do.

It had only been a couple of days since they’d last seen each other, and a couple more since they’d even met, but things these days felt so final. There was precious little time for niceties and almost never a chance for a do over. If you met someone and didn’t stay together you may never see them again. You had to act quickly, take a chance, or they would be forever lost to you. Almost all decisions now were life altering. Many could be life ending.

The highway went up and down slight hills. Suddenly, as Cooper came over a rise, he was on top of a barricade in the road made of cars and debris. A quarter mile beyond a huge herd of corpses filled a large dip in the road, a small valley really that was a few miles wide. He slammed on his brakes, not quite sliding to a halt, but a sudden stop that jerked Rachael awake.

“This feels like a trap.” Cooper dropped the car into reverse and started backing up. He heard gun fire, bullets struck the car and Rachael screamed. He kept backing fast. A man jumped behind him with a gun raised to fire. People were yelling for him to stop. He plowed the man over and kept going.

“Where’d they come from?”

“I think they were laying on the ground.”

Cooper dropped the car into gear and attempted to do a U turn. One of the men ran up and blew his front tire out with a shotgun. A woman was on the rear tire and did the same.

The car was stopped.

“Cooper what do we do?” Rachael asked frantically, eyes wide.

“I guess we cooperate.”

They were dragged from the car. A big man with a crew cut and giant walrus mustache stepped up. He punched Cooper in the jaw. He was winding up to hit him again when a female voice stopped him.

“Shaw! That’s enough! Stand him up.” She was an older woman, brunette, striking blue eyes, and a soldier’s posture. “We need to get off the road. You two, stand on duty.”

Two men melted back into the roadside brush.

Cooper’s jaw was bruised, his teeth felt loose. Fortunately, he had seen the blow coming and managed to deflect a little of the force. Just a little. His head was still swimming.

“Cooper?” Rachael looked scared.

“Shut up.” An armed woman barked at her.

Cooper and Rachael were marched by eight armed guards to a pickup truck a few hundred yards away. They were placed in the back and black bags were popped over their heads. After they started moving, they heard a male’s voice.

“That was my fucking friend you killed back there.”

“Sorry.” Cooper started to say but felt a whack to the head with something hard.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re sorry. Tell his wife.”

“Hey. C’mon man.” Another male chimed in. “I told you this Rambo ambush shit was going to get people killed. I lay this shit on you.”

“Hey! Fuck you!”

The truck stopped abruptly. The door popped open. The female voice yelled. “You two zip that shit up now!” The door slammed and the truck lurched forward.

There was silence the rest of the ride.

Cooper hadn’t stopped thinking about “the mission” he and Trevor talked about. It was urgent that he find Jeff but now he was in this mess. And who knew how long it would take to get back on course, if he was still alive to get back on course. He felt them driving across varying terrain for almost an hour. He lost track of the grasses, the water, the roads, and all the other surfaces they drove over. Finally they stopped and Cooper and Rachael were led into a building. Finally, their hoods were removed.

Cooper looked at Rachael. She looked scared but collected.

They were standing in the main hall of a luxurious mansion. Massive wooden beams held up a roof lost in darkness. The floor, a mosaic of marble, was partially covered in fine rugs. A fireplace large enough to stand in was on one wall, the other a bank of windows.

The brunette was standing behind a massive table. Everyone who wasn’t dressed in some form of camo was dressed very casually, jeans and t-shirts.

“Sorry it’s not usually done this way. Usually we stop and interview people on the road. We like to know who’s out there.”

Cooper couldn’t stop looking around. The house was incredible is size and detail.

“Don’t let the surroundings fool you. We are all business. We all work.”

“OK.” Cooper locked eyes with her. They were icy blue and she didn’t seem to blink. “Why drag us all the way to wherever we are?”

“You killed one of my men.”

“You ambushed us. Shot at us.”

“Sorry that was our fuck up. The gunshots you heard were aimed at your tires.”

“And I was supposed to know that how?”

“Should’ve fucking stopped,” Walrus Moustache said.

“Can it, Shaw.”

Cooper turned his face towards Shaw. “Stop for an armed ambush? Are you fucking stupid?”

“Hey. Hey.” The brunette came from around the desk. “You don’t speak to my people that way.”

Cooper locked eyes with her again. She wavered this time.

“But I can’t disagree. Shaw you need to leave. Go cool down.”

Shaw spun and headed outside. He banged the open door against the wall as he left.

“OK. Sorry about all this. Shaw’s a good guy. You’re safe.” She put her hand out. “Let’s start over. I’m Charlene. I was a captain in the US Army before all the shit hit the fan. They call me Cap.”

“My name’s Rex Hondo,” Cooper said and couldn’t stop smiling. “This here is my sidekick Fatima Doorjamb.”

“OK Rex.” She didn’t look amused. “You aren’t our prisoner but in light of what happened—yes our actions incited your response—I wanted to get you here so we could talk more comfortably.”

“You blindfolded us and dragged us here to talk?”

“Honestly. We are trying to build a community here. We stop and interview people. If we feel good about them, we invite them in. But they have to agree to our rules.”

“Which are?”

“Basic. If you agree to come here, you come in blindfolded. You give up all weapons and you earn trust—and you work. Everyone has to contribute. I wanted to show you the place before I made the offer. And you are not a prisoner, but you can’t walk out of here. Our location is known to only a few people, and we want to keep it that way. You want to leave, we pop a hood on you and drive you out.”

“OK when does the tour start.”

“Right now.” She turned to Rachael. “Fatima.” She extended her hand. Rachael shook it quickly. “OK. Let’s go.”

Cap walked Cooper and Rachael, accompanied by two armed guards, around their community. They were somewhere remote. The giant opulent mansion was surrounded by a thick old growth forest. There were people out working on various projects. She walked to the road so they could take in the size of the mansion.

It was a very large building of the Mediterranean Revival design style; there was a Spanish and Italian Renaissance feel to it. With its massive symmetrical facade of stucco walls, red tiled roofs, and arched windows it was impressive. The beautiful landscaping around it was already looking shabby. The large fountain in the courtyard entrance was off and drained.

“The main house here is still mostly empty and we have almost fifty people living in it. Some of the larger rooms hold a family or two, some are dormitory setups for men and women.” She pointed to the four car garage. “We use that for storage. There’s a pool house outback. Literally a house. We use that for newcomers such as yourself, to stay in until we trust you. Then we talk about moving you into the main house, arming you, etc. There’s more to it, but that’s the layout. So far we’ve had no corpses within several miles of the place.”

“So no cannibal butcher shop out back?”

“What?” she barked, clearly offended.

“Sorry, I watch too much TV.”

“Food’s not a problem if you’re worried. There’s a lot of it out there on shelves and in cabinets. There’s abundant wildlife. There’s farmland we can utilize.”

“I was joking—mostly.” Cooper looked at Rachael who’d been silent so far. “What do you think? Want to stay here?”

She looked at Cooper with those eyes and just shook her head no.