Transformation (36 page)

“Really?” She sounded impressed, intrigued, and a little threatened.
Was he trying to threaten me
, she wondered. But she didn’t care if he was. She had every confidence she could handle him.

“What about you?” he asked, an odd glint in his eye.

“A few.” She lay on her back and looked at her hands as she slid them down her bare stomach to the top of her pubic bone and back up. “Maybe more than a few.”

Ben noticed several scars as her thin fingers lightly traveled over her skin, soft and perfect save the scars. Her slender body was getting him hard again. There was something arousing about her flesh, ghostly white as if it’d never seen the sun. He traced one long scar across her abdomen with his finger. It was pink and puckered with tiny holes on both sides along its entire length. The scar started at her right hip and snaked all the way up to just under her left breast.

“Don’t look at my ugly scars.” She pushed his hand away.

“Did you do this to yourself?” Ben asked as he put his hand back on her body and tapped the long puckered scar.

“No.”

“Was it an accident?” He started tracing it again with his finger.

“No,” she said quietly as he honed in on the truth.

Ben looked her in the face. “Then these aren’t your scars.”

She smiled at the thought.

“Someone left a note on your body, an important note. What does this one say to you?”

Dawn thought for a minute.

“Always strike first. First and last.”

“That’s good,” Ben said. He lifted his right leg and showed her a scar on his inner thigh.

“What’s that one say?” She asked intrigued.

“Just because someone looks unconscious doesn’t mean they are.” Ben dropped his leg. “So your victims. Were they strangers?”

“Some of them.” She started pulling on her clothes. This got Ben up and moving. He looked her in the eyes.

“Why’d you kill them?”

She hesitated, then smiled. “Mostly for fun.” She thought of Egg. “Sometimes for love.” She thought of Gerald. “Sometimes to just shut someone up.”

“All good reasons.” Ben finished putting on his clothes, all the while smiling at Dawn. He stood and put out his hand to help her to her feet.

What a gentleman.
She thought.

“We are going to have a lot of fun together,” Ben said as they headed towards the exit of the massive terminal.

“I already am.” She smiled as she took his hand.

They interlaced fingers and things felt right to Ben. It was as if they were meant to be together.

Dawn reached back and put her hand on the pair of scissors she picked up as a weapon last night. She pushed them deeper into her jeans. She’d been waiting for the right time to use them on Ben and hoped to god that would be soon.

49.

Cooper and Rachael were down to their last bit of energy. They were straining to breath and could no longer see. Speaking to each other was impossible so Cooper reached for Rachael and grabbed her hand before they got separated in the dust cloud. He knew the hole was near and now he hoped to find it. The drop would be scary, possibly injurious, but they would be out of the dust cloud and into water. Filthy water, but water nonetheless. A rinse in storm drain runoff seemed a heck of a lot more healthy than a full body saturation of corpse dust.

Cooper wasn’t sure how to find the hole. It was near the structure somewhere. He jogged for a few seconds but his body was failing him. He was fighting just to stay on his feet at this point. His feet were dragging in the corpses turned powder. It was like walking in sand and just as tiring.

He felt Rachael fall but he held onto her hand. She wasn’t moving so he pulled her along, blackness filling his vision as his body ground to a halt.

Cooper stopped and stood still. Eyes closed, barely able to breath, he wasn’t sure he could go any farther dragging Rachael, but neither would he let her go. He tried to walk again and it felt as if he were dragging a car behind him. Suddenly, he heard the sound of an engine, muffled through ears packed with powder. It seemed to be passing him on the left, and not too far away. The vehicle seemed to be slowing and the timbre of the sound changed. It sounded as if it had entered the garage. This gave Cooper a sense of where he was in relation to the hole and it gave him hope.

He aimed right and used every ounce of strength he could muster to pull Rachael behind him. He held her hand tightly so if he did find the hole she would go down with him. Without warning, Cooper’s left foot went down. He scratched his right leg and knee as he dropped into the hole. He pulled Rachael along. If she had been unconscious, the dropped revived her. Cooper heard her faint raspy scream as they both plunged into the darkness.

For Cooper the drop was an eternal agony. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was the longest few seconds anyone could ever experience. All he could do was tense up and wait for it to be over. The splash was welcomed, but it was yet to be determined if they were in one piece. As he came above the water, he was met with darkness. He heard Rachael sputtering as she came up. He could breathe easier already.

“You OK?” he asked the darkness and started hacking. He coughed until he felt he was going to pass out.

Rachael rasped out a reply he didn’t understand. She was coughing and spitting too. This went on for a while.

Cooper went under several times and worked his fingers through his hair and around his eye sockets. He tried to clean his ears, nose, every nook and cranny had corpse dust in it. The coughing went on followed by bouts of spitting and snorting, snorting and spitting. He held a finger over each nostril and blew and it sounded as if Rachael was doing much the same. He remembered getting covered in the gobbets of several hundred putrefying corpses and while that was more disgusting and smelly, this felt more unhealthy.

He felt Rachael’s hands as she reached for him in the darkness. She was breathing heavy, wheezing like an asthmatic. So was Cooper.

“Wait,” he said as he took her hand then let it go. “I have light.” Cooper searched his pockets and dug out one of the small reading lights. He was glad he’d thought to take them with him. In pitch darkness, they were a godsend. He clicked it on.

“That’s better,” he said. He looked at Rachael She was wet and wide eyed.

“Where are we?”

“A big cistern where all the water from the highway and airport drain into. I think we can find a way out of here.”

They moved through the water and deeper into the cistern coughing and spitting and blowing their noses as they went. There seemed to be only one viable way out of the place and that was up the iron rungs to a drainage pipe large enough to walk in. Whatever Trevor was talking about seemed to be happening and Cooper still had no idea what to do. He wanted to talk to Jeff. It was his only idea, and he doubted Jeff could do a thing but he had to try.

They walked on for close to an hour, maybe more, until they found a way out. There was a smaller pipe, low in the darkness, and Cooper felt a breeze coming from it. They couldn’t see down it, but he crawled in to check it out. Every foot he crept was a foot he’d have to push backwards in order to get back out if there wasn’t a way out ahead. He crawled on for about thirty feet until the pipe ended.

When Cooper stuck his head out, he was a bit shocked and disoriented. He was on the side of a river, trees and bushes all around. Then he remembered that San Jose had several areas like this where undeveloped land went largely unnoticed between buildings and below street level. He was standing on the banks of the Guadalupe River. It wasn’t easily noticeable because it was below street level. Most people overlooked it, didn’t even know it was there running right along the airport in the middle of San Jose.

Cooper slid out of the pipe and onto the wet mud. It was almost completely dark, but the moon had come out and he could see a little. Mostly he could see the sky through the trees above him. A slight glisten on the water helped. The little light let him see what was right at his feet. He bent down to call Rachael and was startled when her head poked out. He jumped back a little and fell in the shallow river. He was already soaking wet so it wasn’t a big deal. He heard Rachael sniggering at him.

He took her hand to help her out of the pipe and pulled hard before she had a chance to stand. He pulled her right into the river.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered.

She stood and splashed over to him, hanging onto his shoulder for support, and whispered. “Pay back is a bitch.”

The two walked out of the dark riverbed and up and onto a trail that led to an access road that in turn led to a street that ran alongside the airport.

“Look,” Rachael whispered to Cooper as she pointed.

Across the airport, where the structure was, the moon illuminated the massive dust cloud as it billowed in the wind. It swirled, rose, and dissipated into the night air. They were both glad to be out of the lethal powder.

“So now what?”

“Just wondering that myself,” Cooper said. He was thinking that with a vehicle they could drive right up to the structure. The structure itself seemed to be up wind of the cloud. Rachael lay down on the tarmac.

“Great idea,” Cooper said and was right next to her in the dark.

The sound of an engine woke Cooper. They sun was rising, still behind the mountains, and he was chilled to the bone. He walked to the edge of the little road to look at the airport terminals. He saw a car driving off with a few people in it, at least two. The driver was a guy with short brown hair. The passenger was a shadow. Cooper was so tired he was glad when they turned before they got to them. He didn’t want to have to deal with people and whatever may come of the encounter.

“You see them?” Rachael asked suddenly next to him.

“Yeah. I’m glad they didn’t see us. I’m in no shape to deal with anything if something should go wrong.”

Rachael agreed. They were both sore and still exhausted.

They walked over to the airport, intending to rest a little, eat and drink what they could find, then get over to the structure. It was driving Cooper mad that he was so close yet so far away from the place.

Whatever Trevor had been talking about seemed to be happening already and Cooper was worried it was too late to do anything at all.

50.

Ron and Weed were in the old truck roaring across the field of corpses. They drove in a straight line towards the structure.

Weed found it odd the truck wasn’t bucking as it flew over the bodies. The ride was almost as smooth as if they were driving over flat ground. He looked back and behind the truck. He turned back to face forward.

“Them bodies are dust.”

“What?” Ron was looking at the structure as they drew closer.

“Them bodies are turning to dust.”

Ron didn’t know what to make of it, but he wasn’t too curious at the moment. He was busy looking over the structure as they approached to see what he could see.

Weed stopped the truck underneath the structure. Ron moved for the handle and Weed stopped him. There was an enormous cloud of corpse dust kicked up by the truck and it caught up with them and drifted past for several long minutes.

“I don’t want to get out in that crap,” Weed said.

“What are we going to do?” Ron asked.

“Don’t know, Ronnie. Maybe we ought a make a plan.”

Before they could speak, even before the dust cloud completely passed, there was a rapping on the window. Weed looked out and saw Guido with a gun. He opened the door.

“Well this is a fine how do you do,” Weed laughed.

Sal lowered the weapon slightly. He was about to ask about Ron when his friend’s face appeared behind the old man. He dropped the weapon and smiled.

“Sal! You’re alive!” Ron practically yelled. Life would be a little more bearable with the big guy around. Tears of joy ran down his cheeks.

“Hey screw you, Francis.” Ron said.

Weed turned, eyebrows high. “I’m sure I deserve that, but which of my many offenses are you addressing?”

Ron laughed. “It was a preemptive strike for calling me a pussy.”

Weed guffawed. “Ha! You old pussy! Guess we’re even now.”

Ron slid out after Weed and Sal saw the blood soaked leg and bandage. His eyes opened wide.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Ron assured him.

He hugged Sal and felt very awkward not letting him go. But he was so happy his friend was still alive that he couldn’t stop himself. He finally let go and saw Francis off to the side, smiling and lighting up. He winked at Ron.

Sal wasn’t a replacement for Donna, not by far, but he was thrilled that not all was lost. He slapped Sal on the shoulder. “We saw your…”

“Wasn’t me obviously.” Sal picked up Ron like a bride on her honeymoon. “Let’s get you off that foot.”

Ron heard it, the old man’s grating but jovial voice in the background. “Pussy.”

He smiled. “Put me down Sal I’m OK to hobble.”

Sal put Ron down gently. “I have to warn you of a few things before we get up there. We have a weird situation going on.”

Weed came closer as they all prepared to ascend on the elevator. He put an arm around Ron’s waist.

“C’mon Sally, our little princess needs some help.”

Sal shot Francis an unkind glance, a combination of mistrust for the man and at being called Sally. No one ever called him that but his dead cousin.

Ron had an arm over each man and they helped him to the platform.

“What happened?”

“It’s a very long story.” Ron said.

“Adventure happened,” Weed laughed. “Ronnie, you need a shower. You smell like shit.”

“And you smell like a flower.”

“As always,” Weed chuckled.

The three ascended on the platform to the second level of the garage. Sal tapped Francis on the shoulder. “You better be prepared.”

“For what?” And Weed was worried.
What was they planning?
He wondered.

As Ron’s head came above the level of the second floor, he saw several faces lit by a dim lantern. He thought he saw Donna at first, then realized his mind was playing tricks on him. It couldn’t be. Then his mind was back to thinking it was Donna. When she saw him, when her face changed, he knew it was her.

Now Weed understood. Ron launched himself on one leg towards his wife. Donna suppressed a scream as they hugged. The others watched as they hugged, cried, kissed, and often stopped just to hold each other’s face and look at each other.

Sal was the first to speak. “One of us is going the have to break this up.”

“I think it’s going to take all of us,” Wendy said.

“OK. We have a lot to talk about and we have to do it here and now.” Sal pulled Eddie forward and introduced him.

Sal chuckled. “We have a very odd set of guests with us.”

“What?” Ron and Weed looked at each other.

“Actually, it’s not at all funny,” Eddie piped up. “You don’t know Sherm and the rest of them like I do.”

§

Francis was bemused. “Ain’t you never learned to tell someone to fuck right off?” He was amazed the big man just let all the crazy bastards into their home. “Well we best be laying some plans.”

“Whoa, there gramps.” It was Jeff. “I don’t trust you. Dale didn’t trust you and now he’s gone.”

Weed looked at Jeff and was trying to formulate a reply. He was putting the brakes on his usual
fuck you
rejoinders and trying to come up with something more… more what he didn’t even know. Ron saved him by interjecting.

“Jeff you have good reason to feel the way you do but you can trust me. I’ll explain everything later.”

Jeff didn’t look happy, but he nodded and backed down.

Ron looked at everyone else. “You can trust Francis.”

No one said a thing.

After they all did a quick catch up and exchanged pertinent information the plans were laid.

“So there’s eight of us and we are armed. There’s six of them. Are they armed?” Ron asked.

“Not from what I’ve seen,” Sal said.

“They’re not,” Eddie added.

“Ok then.” Weed was anxious to get going. He wanted these nutty bastards out of his house so he could settle in and he had a lot of settling in to do

“Let me see if I got this straight,” Weed recited in a hushed whisper. “Ronnie here will go ask the king to leave, which he won’t. Then we try to make him leave at gunpoint. Then, if that fails, we try to subdue a man you described as a giant of a man. A fellow that made Sal here feel small.”

“That’s about it,” Ron said. “He hasn’t done anything yet to try and harm us, he’s just a weird unwelcome house guest.”

“Jeff will be watching the others. We will all go speak to the king.”

“I don’t think the boy should be down here alone,” Weed said.

Jeff didn’t say a thing but he was clearly uncomfortable.

Everyone else headed up the ramps as Weed and Jeff walked back to the elevator.

“Awful quiet,” Weed said as he stood on the edge of the dark elevator hole. He remembered the last time he stood on the edge of a dark hole. He got pushed in by a fat fucker. He turned and stepped back.

“I don’t have anything to say,” Jeff mumbled as he paced back and forth.

“I don’t mean you son,” Weed started. “I mean… ah fuck me.”

Jeff looked up. Francis was standing still. A face was over his shoulder. He couldn’t quite see what was happening.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

“It’s one ‘o’ them crazy bastards,” Francis said.

A female voice spoke out. “I’m not one of them.”

Weed spoke through tense lips. “Sure looks like you are from here, honey.”

“Don’t you honey me.” Nurse Nancy Dickerson said in a harsh angry tone. But she relaxed and Weed could feel it.

Jeff started to walk forward. He raised the lantern. He could see a woman’s face, capped by short gray hair. She was holding something to Francis’ neck. Her hand was under his beard. It was impossible to see.

“Sorry sweetie,” Weed smiled at his own clever jibe. “I’m an old fellow with old ways. Please forgive me.”

Just then the sound of many footfalls and some restrained hooting filled the darkness.

“That would be the
them
,” Nurse Nancy said.

This wasn’t the first time old Francis Burwell had an asshole holding a knife to his throat, not by far. Weed was a dirty crazy fighter, an unpredictable assault of cheap shots and shitty moves. But he did know one move that was taught to him by a brother biker, a former Marine. He’d practiced it quite a bit and had several occasions to use it.

When the woman relaxed her arm a bit more, ostensibly to look away, Weed made his move. He grabbed her knife arm with both hands and pulled down quick and hard, thus keeping the blade away from his throat. He bent forward, felt the tight slim body of the nurse pressed on his back, and sent her head over ass to land on her back right at his feet with a thud. She was stunned and disoriented for just a split second. Weed was surprised she looked older in the face than her voice and firm body would have had him believe. Her eyes were venomous as they bore into him. They were sexy and dangerous and fortunately Weed paid the dangerous aspect more mind.

The lady was fast. Although Nurse Nancy hadn’t expected the old man to throw her like that, she reacted quickly and rolled. She jumped to her feet but the old guy was already on her. Weed had his big ole buck knife open, blade locked. He grabbed her by her hair and placed the knife to her throat. He was about to cut her when her ass rubbed against him and caused him the most momentary of pauses. She had started talking and he listened.

“Wait! Wait! I can help you,” she had her hands up, fingers spread.

But she was lying. She was simply buying herself time.

Jeff was stunned at the battle before him. It happened so quickly, it was dark, and the movement was all so fast. He never had an opportunity to fire his gun.

“Son, you best be getting upstairs to help the others. I got this.” Weed let himself indulge in a bit of chivalry.

Jeff turned and ran.

“So you got this, huh?” The woman said low and confident, a bit sultry.

“It sure looks that way,” Weed gloated.

“You feel that tickling down there by your balls?” she wiggled her hand a bit.

“Nice,” Weed grumbled.

“A flick of my wrist and I’ll sever your femoral artery.”

“Not so nice,” Weed said in the same horn dog tone.

“You will bleed out in seconds.”

“So what you’re telling me is that I have a few seconds to cut your throat before I die.”

Nurse Dickerson was silent for a moment. “It seems…”

“We are at an impasse,” Weed finished.

“I was going to say evenly matched.”

“Maybe. Maybe.”

She raised her right hand slowly. The gleam of a scalpel in the moonlight. Her left hand was starting to massage Weed’s junk.

“Feels nice without the fear of death mixed in,” he was liking what he was feeling and knew better than to let a ballbuster near his balls.
Maybe just a moment longer
, he thought.

“You want to return the favor?” she asked.

Weed kept his knife to her throat as he reached around with his left hand to give her a good rubbing.

Nurse Nancy’s eyes were gleaming. “Imagine what we could do with two hands.”

“Darling, you’re already doing enough with the one,” Weed chuckled.

But Nurse Nancy was still holding her scalpel. Her attack was fast and vicious and so sharp was the blade that Weed didn’t even feel it slice deeply into his flesh.

§

“You want me to leave? Like a tree?” Sherm asked.

Ron could only assume he was referring to the old joke, make like a tree and leave.

“Well, this is our home…”

“It’s mine now. I said so. Where’s mother? Ah, there you are.”

Sherm seemed to melt at the sight of Wendy.

It was then that they all heard the others coming up the ramps.

“Ah my people are here,” Sherm said as he stood.

Matilda ran straight at Sherm, arms wide. She expected a hug but Sherm backhanded her so hard she was thrown to the concrete and stopped moving. He motioned with his head.

“Gordy. Boswell.”

The two men shambled over to Matilda and stood by her. Sherm looked at them. He realized they had no idea what he wanted them to do.

“Out she goes.” He jabbed his thumb towards the edge of the garage.

“No!” Several people started forward to intervene, but the two men scooped up Matilda by her hands and feet and swung her once and let go.

One of the men let out a very loud “Whoop!”

Matilda sailed over the edge like a ragdoll.

“Why did you do that?” Ron asked.