Transformation (32 page)

42.

“Look. They’re stopping.” Rachael was in the lead and getting the two of them closer to the aliens, as they started calling them, then Cooper was comfortable with.

“Come on,” he whispered. “We need to back off a little. I have to go see Jeff.”

She looked at him and nodded. They slowed a bit.

“They’re just so fascinating,” she whispered back.

They followed the creatures for a mile or more as they silently moved along. Once they stopped, did nothing at all for a good three minutes, and then started walking again.

Suddenly they all turned at precisely the same time and walked over the edge of the expressway. They disappeared silently over the edge.

“Okay. Now we have to go to the structure,” Cooper said as they both leaned over the edge. Nothing but blackness and silence was below them.

Rachael shrugged, “Any ideas?”

Cooper raised his scope again. It was dark, but the moon shed enough light to illuminate the world in tones of black and gray. He scanned the area.

“See anything?” Rachael asked.

Cooper was about to say no when he spotted what appeared to be six figures walking across the long term parking lot through all the bodies.

“Yeah. Looks like six people walking down there.”

“It’s not those things?”

“No, looks like people. They seem okay walking across the corpses. Maybe we should just go for it?”

“All right, we have to get down from here.” Rachael was backing up and looking left to right.

“Ow.” She turned around. Nothing was there. “What?” She rubbed her head.

“Cooper…” She was walking forward and seemed to slam into a plate of glass. She fell back on the ground.

Cooper walked forward, hands out. He felt something, something hard. But it wasn’t smooth and vertical like a plate of glass. There was a texture to the uneven surface. The best he could describe it would be a very hard rubber. His hand slid across the surface and he found an opening.

Rachael stood, blood on her lip from where it smacked the invisible object. Cooper put his hand out to her.

“Take my hand.” Together they tried to get her free, but she touched something that made her recoil. She fell backwards again.

“Oh shit! Oh shit!” Rachael wiped her hands on her pant legs. She looked disgusted. “I think I touched a … I think it’s one of them.”

Cooper backed off. “Can you crawl under?”

Rachael’s face registered her disgust. But she shook it off and got to her hands and knees and crawled slowly forward. She felt ahead and got under or around the invisible thing.

“This thing is invisible. How is this possible?” Cooper helped Rachael to her feet.

“I remember hearing about the possibility of invisible paint that used microscopic cameras or lens that bent light or something. It made sense the way I heard it explained.”

Then Cooper remembered a few invisibility experiments he saw online. Some of them were simply cameras that projected what it saw onto a screen behind it and the screen hid what was between it and the camera. But there were more advanced experiments that bent light around an object. The ones he could see online were all very crude, but maybe these aliens had perfected it.

“Let’s move on.” Cooper walked slowly with hands out in front of him.

“Yes. Let’s.” Rachael walked behind him.

“What do you think they are doing?” Rachael asked.

“It feels like they are getting in position for something.”

“Sounds scary.” She looked around, eyes wide, concern etched on her face.

Cooper was worried Jeff might not even be in the structure.

They walked on and got comfortable moving faster. Then Rachael ran right into another invisible object. She staggered backwards.

“Damn it!” She hissed and spat blood. Her lip was split and bled for a few minutes until it started to clot. She eyed Cooper and went behind him.

“It’s your turn to run into an invisible object.”

Cooper started forward, hands out. Rachael had her hands on his shoulders. It slowed them down considerably as they made their way to the next off ramp. Cooper felt four more of the creatures and they slowly worked their way past them all. Finally they came to a set of pedestrian stairs that went down.

Rachael looked at Cooper and was surprised to see fear in his eyes.

“You ready?” Was all he said.

Rachael just nodded and they started down the stairs, descending into darkness. It was the sinister darkness that gathered between a child’s bed and the floor where monsters liked to hide.

43.

Sal watched Sherm cup his thick hands to his mouth and call upward towards the dark.

“We’re here!” His voice was low in tenor but carried far in the quiet night. It echoed around the inside of the structure.

Choco cupped his hands around his mouth. “Whoop! Whoop!” It was high pitched and loud. Sherm smacked him in the head with his beefy arm. Choco stumbled from the impact.

“We’re coming down! Meet us!” They heard a man yell from above.

Sal was nervous now.
Who was up there?

Eddie leaned towards him. “Sounds like the Rabbits.”

Sal gave him a confused look.

“I’ll tell you later,” Eddie said.

After a few minutes, they heard the whirring of the winch. The man’s voice called.

“Over here. Over here.”

“Where’s here?” Sherm asked.

“Right here.” The voice said from the darkness.

“You’d better light a match or stick out your fucking head,” Sherm bellowed.

“Walk straight under. There’s an elevator.” The voice whined back.

Sherm led everyone into the structure. Sal followed and was stepping on the elevator platform still not sure of what he should do. He had to try something so he took a long shot.

“OK guys. You wait here. I’ll go round everyone up and bring them down.”

Sal was worried they might force themselves onto the elevator but they didn’t. Sal looked at Eddie.

“You okay down here?”

Eddie nodded, a comfortable nod and a smile.

Sal and Sherm got on the elevator and at the top they met two men in what appeared to be torn and stained pajamas. One of them danced a little in place. Sal and Sherm stepped off and to Sal’s surprise, Sherm made the two men wait with the others below.

Sal went to raise the winch and when he returned, Sherm was rubbing his temples. He looked up when Sal returned.

“Lead the way.” He gestured for Sal to walk in front of him.

But Sal hung back. He didn’t want his back to Sherm. Sherm motioned him forward again with a sweeping gesture. Sal started walking slowly forward. He was about to speak up when he heard Wendy’s voice. He was elated she was okay, but now he may have led a dangerous person right to her in their home. If she was hurt or killed after all they went through, he couldn’t forgive himself.

“Stop right there.” Wendy spoke firm. She wasn’t afraid. Sal was impressed. A light sprung up. Jeff was holding an electric lantern. Sal could see that Donna, Wendy, and Jeff were all armed. Ana wasn’t present, but Sal was too nervous to notice her absence.

Sherm saw Wendy and smiled. He turned and spoke to Sal like an excited kid.

“Introduce us.”

Sal stepped from behind Sherm. Wendy’s eyes popped open.

“Sal? You OK?” Wendy was excited but keeping control of the situation. Her gun was still held high and unwavering. “Get over here.”

Sal walked over and stood by Wendy.

“Wendy, this is Sherm. Sherm, Wendy. That’s Donna and Jeff.” Sherm gave Wendy a little smile and a wave. He looked at his feet. Sal whispered to Wendy, “I need to talk to you now.”

He led Wendy away. Jeff and Donna stayed back. They kept at a distance and lowered their weapons.

Once they were behind a pillar in the dark Wendy turned and hugged Sal. She kissed him on the lips.

“I’m glad you’re okay, but who the hell are these people?”

“It’s hard to explain. They were sent to hunt us, but I kind of became one of them along the way.”

“What the hell do you mean? Why is he up here? He should’ve waited below with the others.”

“I know, but he kind of just followed me. They all escaped from a mental institution..”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Wendy hissed.

“Yeah, I messed up but there’s a kid, Eddie. He’s okay.”

Wendy looked at Sal and tried to be mad. She hugged him again.

“Look. Mary’s dead. There was an explosion. Ron and Francis disappeared.”

“What?” Tears sprang to Sal’s eyes. “Mary?” He was saddened by her death but had to stay focused on the current situation. He fought back tears that would surely come later and he wouldn’t try to stop them. He would miss her terribly.

“Look, we have to get back to him. I’m just going to show him around, and you three can hang back with your guns and keep an eye on them.

“Me and Donna will follow you. Jeff can stay here and watch those below. Make sure they don’t try something. We have Ana on the third level keeping an eye open to be sure no one sneaks in. She’s armed and old Francis has his noise makers all strung up.”

Sal nodded.

“OK Sherm.” He called as he approached the big man. “Let’s go. I’m giving you the tour.”

After a brief walk around the garage, they stopped at the sofas.

“OK.” Sherm sat on a big leather sofa that creaked under his weight.

“I am the king now.” He rubbed the sofa and looked down.

“I’m hungry,” Sherm stated. “Bring the others up. They will be my guests. We will all eat.”

Everyone was smiling, thinking this was a joke at first. Sal knew better.

“Pardon me, but what does it mean to be king?” Sal asked knowing the answer may simply be benign.

Sherm looked up angry, then his face went flat. It was a good question.

“I am in charge. I say what goes.”

Everyone was quiet. No one knew what to say. They weren’t going to let this lunatic be king, but they didn’t want to upset him either by telling him that just yet.

Sherm raised his arm and pointed at Wendy but he looked down at his lap. “I want the pretty lady here by me. I want her.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Sal asked.

“I will make her mother!” He said.

“Then no.” Sal said. “You can’t have her near you.”

Sherm looked up, his eyes totally hidden by his prominent brow. Standing up he bellowed, “I want her here now!”

He fell back down on the sofa. There was a loud crack as the wooden frame broke. He put his head in his hands and rubbed it with meaty fingers and groaned.

“You don’t see it yet, but you will. You will. You will.” Sherm repeated. “You are going to be a mother. You are a mother. I know it and you do not.”

Sal and Donna both reflexively took a step back and looked over at Wendy. When they caught her eye, she just shrugged, her face impassive.

44.

Ron watched as the sky lightened over the eastern horizon. A dull pink that was washed away by a wave of blue that exploded across the sky, sweeping the last smudge of a long miserable night away.

He opened the truck door and slid out onto the 5. The dried blood on his bandages pulled on the wounds. He slid down to the truck onto his ass with his leg straight out and waited for the stabbing pain to subside.

After a few minutes, the sky was mostly blue and Ron was ready to try and stand again. He used the running board of the old truck to get to his feet. His wounds throbbed painfully as the blood filled his legs. The teeth of the trap had punctured his skin in two places, and he thought his shin bone might be chipped or fractured. He put weight on his injured leg just to test it and instantly regretted it. The pain was intense, but he remained on his feet. He closed his eyes and felt the sweat beading on his brow even on this chilly morning.

Ron steadied himself with one hand on the truck and hopped past the rumbled old fender and to the front bumper. He ventured a few hops out to the center of the 5 and when he stopped went directly into a sitting position, legs out, in the most ungraceful fashion.

It was too painful to stand so Ron didn’t try again. He enjoyed the warmth of the rising sun and tried to relax, but old habits die hard. He couldn’t help but look up and down the highway to make a sure a car wasn’t coming. All around him was a vast nothingness, no landmarks in sight.

The sun rose rapidly and the world brightened before his eyes. He waited a few minutes to get a better look around. Still nothing. His ankle throbbed so he tried to crawl on all fours back to the truck, but after the first few feet, the rocks and the road hurt his hands and tortured his knees. He lay on his stomach and discovered quickly he couldn’t drag himself at all so he rolled. He bore down and made the trip back into the truck as quickly as possible and soon had his foot propped up out the window as he lay back on the seat.

He was worried about Francis and was scared for himself. He had no idea what he would he do should he need to move on by himself. He could barely get ten feet on his own. He was passing concern and quickly approaching panic. Another hour (it seemed) and still no sign of Francis. He came to realize that his worry over the old man was in no small part due to the fact that he would miss him should he never see him again.

He tried to relax, but couldn’t help looking around constantly out of fear and expectation. He wondered if Francis found gas and was heading back or still walking down the 5—or maybe he was dead.

Ron was starting to wonder how long he should wait for Francis and had no idea what he would do if he decided to stop waiting.

§

Weed walked all night down the long straight highway. It was a silent, lonely walk in near pitch blackness. But it gave him plenty of time to think, to process all that had transpired over the past few hours, days, his entire life even.

He walked until the sun came up and his ass crack burned from the friction. He kept walking until late morning when he came across a road that ran under the highway. No off-ramp, no signs, but Weed could see buildings in the distance. Probably a few miles. He kept on kicking rocks.

As he approached the buildings, he was getting pissed. There looked to be jack-shit around and he’d almost walked his ass off, literally. He circled the buildings and found one vehicle. One crappy old farm-trashed pickup truck. It was a beast of a thing, probably made in the seventies and put through hell in the fields. He opened the door and climbed in. He checked the visor, under the seats. Nothing. He noted the odometer out of curiosity, a little over 6,000 miles. The beast had probably never left the farm

“Today’s your lucky day, Old Beast. We’re breaking out of here,” Weed mumbled to himself with a smile. The only building that looked like it might have keys for the old truck was just a few yards away.

The building had one door with a sign that read “office” duct taped to it. He turned the knob. Locked. He kicked the door. Solid. He went back to the truck and dug around. Finally he decided he had to hotwire the thing. He pulled his knife and laid on the floor of the driver’s side. He yanked and cut wires, twisted a few together, and the truck started.

He looked at the gauges. Half a tank of gas, good. He cut the engine and walked to the rear of the building where he’d seen trash strew about. He found what he thought would be a few useful items and tossed them in the bed of the truck. He was dropping the truck in gear and rumbling away seconds later. He kicked up a dust cloud as he tore down the road. Within minutes he was back on the highway and speeding back towards Ron. It took him about twenty minutes to get back to where he started many hours before.

§

Ron saw the vehicle coming and for a few painful moments he worried it wasn’t Francis but someone who would do him harm. He was in no condition to escape or defend himself. He watched until the vehicle was in view and when he saw the old man behind the wheel he almost wept with joy. His emotions surprised him, and he wiped a tear away quickly.

“Don’t want the old fart to call me a pussy,” he said to himself, not able to stop smiling if he wanted to. He waved at Francis as he walked towards him.

Weed nodded and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of old Ronnie sitting in that truck waving like a fool.

Francis got straight to work. He slid under the truck and cut a long section of the fuel line out. He siphoned the gas out of the tank and into an old bucket. He cut the bottom off a 2-liter bottle and used the top as a funnel. Ron held it as he poured the gas into the tank. They were back in business.

Both men were exhausted and starving. Ron’s foot was throbbing. Weed’s ass crack was burning something awful. But they were moving and their spirits were once again lifted higher than one might expect in such circumstances. But when one has too much time to ponder things, they tend to run to the negative.

“I don’t know what I am going to do,” Ron was staring out of the window, watching the ground fly by while the mountains seemingly stood still. He turned to look at Francis. The old man was driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Outwardly it appeared he hadn’t heard a word Ron said. But suddenly he started talking.

“Ronnie. I was raised to hate black people. Blacks, Jews, Chinks, Spics; if you ain’t white you ain’t right. It was drilled into my head from day one.” He looked over at Ron who was watching him warily. He turned back to the road and continued.

“All my life I never saw any evidence that darkies was any good at all. Thieves, criminals, drug dealers and killers, every one of them. I hated them all while associating with white folks that were no better. I rode with an MC for decades that held the same opinions on such matters. The hate never consumed me like it did others, but I had my opinions and they were right in line with my compadres. Now I am here with a darkie. Tell me Ron, what am I supposed to do?”

Weed fell silent for a while.

Ron had no idea what to say in response to his question.

“Was I a racist? Yes. But the reality of the situation has changed that. There is no more black and white—no more races. Now there’s just me and my brother Ron. We became family when we were thrown into this shit together.”

Weed was silent for a minute as he lit another joint. He squinted at the smoke that filled the cab.

“You know the first time around, I was given the shit end of the stick when it came to family. But this time I really hit the jackpot with you and the gang back at the garage. I don’t care what color you are or what you think of me. All I know is that you got my old white ass covered and I got your black ass likewise so. We’ve just been through some real shit together and will have stories to tell. For my part, the part of the story most significant to me, was that I had to choose who I was to spend eternity with. Previously the choice would’ve been Nazis or Negroes and I would have said Nazis hands down, things being what they were. But now my choice was between a bunch of assholes or you.”

He faced Ron as if to indicate the importance of the statement he was about to make.

“So, what are you going to do? You’re going to adjust to the new world and adjust to life with your most unlikely friend.”

Ron nodded, “I don’t know if I can adjust to a life without Donna.”

Weed stared at the road in silence for a moment before he spoke low and soft.

“I hope for my sake you can.”

They drove on in silence for a few more hours. By late afternoon they were closing in on the garage. They watched the garage as it came into view. They were still miles away from it.

Weed drove on the elevated highway towards their home. The road was clear, no cars and no people. As they drew closer, they saw a figure in the road. Weed slowed.

“What the hell?” Ron’s eyes were better than the older man’s. He could make out the odd, seemingly nude figure walking towards them. It was walking fast.

“What is it Ron?”

“I don’t know but something doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, what do you see?”

“I can’t tell. Looks like a nude person walking quickly towards us. Something’s not right about its body, the limbs.”

Weed stopped the truck and cut the engine.

Ron watched the figure as it stopped and turned. It walked back the way it came and disappeared from sight.

Ron rubbed his chin. “I think it’s safe to go forward. We’ll deal with whatever comes our way.”

Weed started the truck and drove on.

Both men were silent as they approached the place where they thought the figure had been. They both looked about nervously but saw no evidence of it.

Finally they were very close to the garage. Weed killed the engine and opened the door.

“I want to take a look around before we drive down that ramp.”

Despite the pain, Ron followed and at the edge of the overpass they stopped at the rail and couldn’t believe what they saw.

“Oh my God.” Ron looked at Francis in disbelief.

Weed’s eyes were squinting in the sun at the sight before him. “God ain’t got nothing to do with that shit son.”

The ground below the overpass, and for as far as the eye could see, was covered with corpses. A massive tangle of bodies, a thick carpet of limbs and heads.

“Why are they all here?” Ron asked.

“Something attracted them. Probably the explosion.” Weed wondered if they should wade through that shit or drive over it.

“I don’t think the truck can make it through.” Ron stood, arms folded. “I’m getting back in the truck, my leg hurts bad.”

Weed stood and studied the bodies directly below them for a moment then turned and walked back to the truck.

§

“What’d you make of those two?” Cullen tugged at his beard as he watched Ron and Weed. He wasn’t sure, but thought the truck they were driving was completely loaded with marijuana.
Who were they? Where were they going? Where did they come from?

“Only one way to find out.” Cullen started walking towards them.

“What?” Dawn was still pissed at Cullen. He’d pushed them all night and slapped Hope because she wouldn’t stop whining.

“Shut up,” he spat back at her.

“Fuck you,” she mumbled.

Hope sniffed.

Gerald continued to stare at his feet. Egg wasn’t there.

When they stopped to rest and Egg couldn’t stand up again, Cullen walked away. But Dawn couldn’t leave Egg there crying and rocking in pain.

“Here Egg.” She said as she sat next to him. “Sweet Egg, you just relax.”

Egg stopped his struggles and looked at Dawn with eyes wet and full of pain.

“It’s time for Eggy to go to sleep OK?”

Egg nodded.

“Now stay here and be quiet, OK.”

Egg whimpered and nodded. He squirmed, fists balled, as he tried to be quiet.

Dawn went and found a plastic bag in a nearby garbage can.

“OK, is Eggy ready to go to sleep?”

“Jesus, would you hurry up.” Cullen prodded. Dawn ignored him.

Dawn put the bag over Egg’s head and pulled it tight around his neck.

After a few minutes in the loose bag Egg was struggling to breath, but he didn’t try to remove it from his head. Dawn watched him, smiling.

“This is taking too long.” Cullen stepped forward and raised his rifle over Egg’s head.

Dawn shot him a glance that caused him to back down.

“Asshole.” She hissed and turned back towards Egg with a smile as he struggled to breathe.

It took him almost eight full minutes to die.

“Bye Eggy.” Dawn kissed the boy on the head and left.

Dawn hated Cullen but didn’t want to travel alone. Hope was Dawn’s shadow and Gerald was a simpleton that would follow them without question.