INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (59 page)

There’s no sign of Sims. Cooper tries to call him up on the radio, but there’s no answer.

“It’s cold up here,” Hefty complains, wearing only his white tee.

“You know what, Doc?” Cooper says to Deleon in a voice only he’s supposed to hear. “I didn’t think you had it in you to end the world. I always pegged you for one of those limp-dicked nice guys. Guess you better watch out; I always fall for assholes.”

Deleon opens his mouth to respond, but the sound that comes out is a siren. It comes from a speaker just behind him as the rooftop comes to life: two gigantic searchlights activate and begin to move. A red and blue strobe flashes.

And that siren
wails.

Deleon’s mouth is still open, his face suffused in alternating red and blue. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers. Then the city awakens. Zombies pour out of every crevice: crash out of windows with terrible bone snaps, only to get up again. They flood out of doors of buildings, rise from gutters and sewers, and bleed from every orifice in the city—and they’re all headed your way.

Cooper screams into the radio, “Sims! SIMS! Turn it off,
turn it off!
”

“Basement!” you yell, “Power’d be in the basement.”

You sprint down the roof access stairwell toward the basement with the group. Halfway down the landing, you’re met by Sims on his way up. Cooper crashes into him, both hands grabbing his shirt, and slamming him against the wall.

Sims looks genuinely surprised. “Don’t you get it? Rescue’s coming.”

“Rescue!?” she screams with ferocity.

“Sims, you just put a giant ‘eat me’ sign right on our forehead,” Tyberius explains.

“This is our best chance. If it attracts a few of those things, so be it! We have defenses and now rescue’s coming, so…”

“Yeah, rescue in the form of a gun with one bullet,” Hefty says and mime-shoots himself in the head.

“Come on, Sims. We’re turning it off; it’s unanimous,” Deleon tells him.

The two of you rush down to the basement, all of you in full panic until he finally makes it to the controls and turns off the switch. “Alarms are off,” he says. “If it were up to me, they’d be on, but they’re off.”

Tyberius shakes his head and sighs, “You have got to be the dumbest-ass white man I ever met.”

“Hey, sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, okay?” In response, Tyberius takes out the hockey stick secured to his back and cracks Sims across the shoulder with it. Sims cries out in pain.

“Hey! Now is not the time for us to turn on each other,” you say. “They’re coming for us now; what’s the plan?”

All eyes to Cooper. “Battle stations,” she says. “We need to ensure the entrance barricades will hold, and then use the cafeteria as our home base.”

•
 
Check Area One with Tyberius.

•
 
Check Area Two with Hefty.

•
 
Check Area Three with Sims.

•
 
Secure the cafeteria with Deleon, Cooper and Guillermo.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

C
ooper looks as if you’d just struck her. “Whatever the reason they’re here, it’s not for us. We can leave them be,” you say. “Especially if there’s a cure. They came here when they were sick, to be cared for, and were probably looked after with great difficulty until they had to be locked up.”

The other members of the group nod solemnly. Wherever these words are coming from, they ring true amongst your companions. And Cooper may be the leader, but her grip on the group isn’t so firm that she can spit in the face of your reasoning.

“Then you can have first watch, Newbie,” she says, her eyes narrow slits. “Back to the annex—let’s try and get some sleep.”

“I can’t stay here,” Angelica says, shaking her head and looking to the floor.

Sims puts an arm about her shoulder and walks back down the hall with her. “It’s just one night; It’ll be okay. We need the rest, so…”

*     *     *

A “Nightmare” was originally a very specific thing: the mare that came in the night. Not originally a horse, the “mare” comes from an antiquated term for a demon or incubus that would terrorize unlucky victims in their dreams. Later, the terms merged, so this goblin took the form of a great horse that would come and sit on your chest. This was meant to explain why some waking nightmares would paralyze the dreamer, leaving you unable to move or breathe.

Angelica screams out. You look back, still on watch, and the rest of the group awakens. She’s slick with sweat and shaking with terror. Between gasping breaths, she shouts, “I have to get out of here. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do this!”

The moaning from the air vent, which never fully left, intensifies. You had just forgotten it was there, like the hum of the engines on a long airline flight.

“Shut up!” Cooper gets up from the wall she was resting against and pulls Angelica up from the floor.

“Please! You have to let me go!” Without a word, Cooper drags Angelica over to the candle closet and throws her in amongst altar robes and acolytes’ tools. An oil can rolls out, but Cooper kicks it back in at Angelica, spraying oil all over the closet. She slams the door and turns back, staring at the group, begging to be challenged.

Guillermo shrugs, rolls over, and goes back to sleep. One by one, so do the rest. Then it’s just you, alone with your thoughts again. Although that’s not entirely true; there are moans to keep you company.

About half an hour later, just after Angelica’s whimpers end, Deleon’s wristwatch alarm goes off. When those around him stir, he says, “Time to change the guard.” He stands up and heads into the bathroom. Several minutes later, he comes out to relieve you. “Get some sleep,” he says.

“What about Angelica?”

He nods tiredly. “I bet she’s fallen asleep. But you’re right, it’d be a nice gesture to let her out.”

You walk over to the closet but stop before you arrive. Great heat radiates off the wooden porthole. Even now, though only in your mind, you can still hear her jiggling the handle from inside. Black dust dances at the base of the doorframe.

“Angelica?” you whisper. You touch the door handle, but recoil with a searing heat as great as if you’d just touched a stove. You look to Deleon, whose face is awash with concern.

He frowns and his brow tightens. “Hand me your axe,” he says. As he approaches the door, wisps of smoke snake out slowly from within. Then, just as he’s pulling back to swing, the smoke is actually
sucked back in
, just like you’re watching the world on rewind.

As the axe pierces the wood, the door explodes out with a ball of fire. Deleon flies back into you and you both crash back onto the floor. A large chunk of the door deflects off his cast arm and the debris expands outward at such an extreme rate that—miraculously—most of it misses you. Globs of molten candle wax hurl past your head like lava.

The rest of the group is wide awake. “Get the doc and the newbie out of here, now!” Cooper commands. Sims and Guillermo pull you out while Tyberius and Hefty take Deleon. Cooper stays inside.

It takes a moment, but you recover your breath and you’re able to sit up straight. You look to Deleon; the other guys are in a semi-circle around you, looking toward the annex. “You okay?” Deleon wheezes out.

You nod. Cooper finally rushes out from the flame-ensconced building. “No sign of Angelica!” she yells out. You and Deleon shake your heads in unison.

“The closet,” you say through a raspy voice.

“Was it an accident?” Tyberius asks. “Maybe she tried to light a candle and all that oil…”

“No, she was smarter than that,” Sims says.

Everyone seems to be getting it now. Guillermo crosses himself. Cooper stands before you, the brand of exhausted anger on her face usually reserved for the sleepless parents of a fussy newborn.

“There were no screams,” you offer to the group.

“There wouldn’t be,” Deleon replies. “An oil fire would pull the air from the room before she had a chance—and the backdraft.”

Sims shakes his head solemnly. “It was this place,” he says. “She never talked about it, but when we were traveling together, she avoided churches like, like the—she just wouldn’t have anything to do with them.”

“She just couldn’t take it anymore,” Hefty says, more to himself than the group.