The Dark Trinity (Book 1): Shuffle (9 page)

She tried to move along the far side of the street, furthest
from the apartment buildings, but there was not much cover for her to duck
behind. A few cars provided her with some protection, but her luck had run out.
Now she needed to go about two hundred yards past the homicidal mutants that
were making quick work of the remaining “normals.” She took off at a sprint
down the road, but the salt covered street made traction difficult. Behind her,
ravenous wails bellowed. Evelyn chanced a glance over her shoulder and could
see at least a dozen of the changed had abandoned their victims and were now
giving chase after the new prey.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit...” she whispered to herself
under her labored breathing. Footsteps behind her were closing in fast. They
moved much faster than she had anticipated. With some luck, she could make it
back to safety, although she wondered how safe she would be inside her own
apartment.

She was now about ten yards from the intersection. A sharp
right turn and another one hundred and fifteen yards and she would be within
sight of her place. A deep growl erupted behind her as the mob closed the
distance between them and her to a mere twenty feet.

I’m not going to make it,
she thought. A car sped down
her street towards the intersection and screamed around the corner, and halted
in the middle of the road. The passenger door whipped open and a man popped out
of the driver’s side.

“Get your ass in the car lady! Run faster or I swear I’ll
leave you!”

Eve did just that, pulling from that untapped energy that
athletes use when they overcome the agony of defeat. She pulled ahead of the
mob by a few more feet. As she approached the vehicle, it started to creep
forward. She ran up beside it and could hear the man yelling at her.

“Jump lady!” the man commanded. Again, she obeyed, jumping
into the car. The stranger floored the accelerator, which lurched the car
forward once the tires gained traction on the asphalt. Evelyn closed the door
and looked behind them. The mob of creatures kept in pursuit. Their getaway
seemed to have pissed them off; driving them to run faster. The two survivors
reached the end of the street that led out of Forest Glenn. The man made a
quick glance in both directions and gunned the car left down Cemetery Lane.

“What the fuck just happened back there?” she asked. It was
more a question to herself than to the man who just saved her, but he replied
anyway.

“Hell. Hell just happened.”

CHAPTER 8 
  EMERGENCY
CALL

“Aw, Christ,” he muttered as he approached the parking garage
where his car sat. Nathan surveyed the scene as his brain ran through other
options for a way out of town.

Red and blue lights spun, throwing colors onto the four car
accident. The accident that, as chance would have it, occurred in front of the
garage entrance. The only entrance. The fate of his former awesome escape plan
was a no-go. Broken glass and twisted metal covered the street. EMTs were busy
tending to the injured passengers.

One passenger in particular looked more worse-for-wear than
the others. He was pale, and sweating rivers down his face, despite the
sub-freezing temperatures. His eyes looked very bloodshot, as if he sneezed
really hard and popped all the blood vessels in his eyeballs. For an instant
they locked in a gaze, staring at each other. A look of confusion, pain, and
anger filled the man's face, which then contorted as he began to gush thick,
reddish-brown sludge from his mouth.

The man doubled over clutching his stomach as more of the
vile liquid expunged itself from his body. A paramedic noticed the poor soul
and rushed to his aid, lying him on his side so he didn’t drown in his vomit.
Another paramedic came to help and he kneeled down beside the dying man. You
could tell he was dying by the urgent tone in the medics’ voices and the
frantic way they pulled various syringes and equipment from their crash bags.

Five minutes ticked by in a heartbeat and finally, the medics
gave up. They covered the dead man with a sheet and took their gear back to the
ambulance. An animalistic scream, which sounded more like a howler monkey than
a man, came from the body underneath the sheet. The body which was now sitting
up. The various people who saw the corpse bolt upright spewed a fountain of
expletives. One brave EMT walked over towards the body and removed the sheet,
exposing the very awake dead guy.

The man looked around, his skin ivory white, his eyes ruby
red. His arm reached out and grabbed the EMT by the throat
Were those
claws!?
and threw the medic two car lengths into the street. The dead man
stood and looked around with an agonizing expression on his face, hopped over
one of the wrecked cars, and sprinted down Sixth Street.

A wailing screech sounded from the opposite end of Sixth. In
unison, everyone around the accident scene forgot about the injured (but still
alive) EMT on the ground and looked in the direction of the scream. A young
teenage girl walked down the middle of the road. That dark red sludge soaked
the front of her shirt. Even from a distance, Nathan could tell that she
suffered from the same fate as the man who had just ran off. She continued to
stagger down the road. Her tongue snaked out from distended jaws, forking at
the end. Black tears streaked down her cheeks as she sobbed.

She plodded after the terrified pedestrians. The girl stopped
in the middle of the intersection, turned, and continued down the street
towards the onlookers at the accident site.

She’s seriously fucked up,
Nathan thought.

Another shriek, but not from the sobbing girl-thing. The girl
was a block away now, standing in the intersection of Sixth and Penn. Out of
nowhere, a group of fifteen or twenty people rushed her from her right,
tackling her to the ground. As he looked on, the group began to tear the girl
apart. Blood spilled out onto the intersection.
Oh my god. They’re like her.
They’re all fucked up too.

For the second time today, Nathan bolted. He was already up
the street and around the corner before the group of murderers had looked up
from their prey.

CHAPTER 9 
  NAPALM

Nathan cursed himself for being out of shape. He had run more
in the last thirty minutes than he had in twenty years. His thoughts bounced
around his skull.
What the hell was wrong with that poor girl? What the hell
was she sick with? And why the hell did all those people attack her? How the
hell am I going to get outta here?

He ducked into the doorway of a 7-Eleven to catch his breath
and figure out his next move. Running around town would get himself killed. He
looked around the vestibule of the convenience store. The place appeared to be
empty. Staying alert, he made his way inside. Nathan peered over the counter,
but nobody was hiding behind it. There was a blood stain that travelled the
length of the counter and back into the store room.

Wonderful
. Not eager to go looking for trouble, he
inched his way to the back of the store. Nathan slid the cooler door open,
grabbed a Loca Mocha Monster energy drink, and a bottle of water. After closing
the door, he crept back to the vestibule, opened the water, and chugged it
down.

Once the water was gone, he popped the tab on the energy
drink, sending an echoing “crack” throughout the abandoned store. The door in
the back opened and in the doorway stood the young 7-Eleven clerk; pale skin
and soaked in blood. He knew the clerk, having seen her on many occasions when
he stopped to buy smokes. He thought how strange the Indian girl looked with
snow white skin. A growl rose from her throat as she stood in the large puddle
of blood from the dead customer that laid at her feet.

Well, now I know where that blood trail leads
. Nathan
flew out the door and shot right; the clerk clamored after him. Another quick
right took him into the alley behind the store. Four quick strides and he was
jumping into a dumpster. He got the lid closed just as the clerk stopped in
front of the alley entrance.

Nathan held his breath, both out of fear and to keep from
throwing up from the stench of garbage. The clerk paused right outside of the
dumpster. The lid to his left flew open. Nate shrunk in against the far side of
the dumpster that was still covered, trying not to shift the bags of garbage
beneath him. A clawed hand reached in and began poking through the bags and
rubbish.

Nathan began to think of all the stupid things that always
went wrong for people in horror movies. Being a huge horror aficionado, he had
seen dumb teenagers die because, well, they’re dumb. Running in heels, walking
into a dark basement alone, tripping at the worst possible time, hiding in a
room with only one way in or out, or knocking over a can or bottle while trying
to be stealthy. His brain stopped his mental Rolodex of horror clichés on one
that might get him killed.

God I hope my cell phone doesn’t ring
.

The notion to reach into his pocket to ensure that his phone
was on silent crossed his mind, but doing so would surely get him caught. He
continued to hold his breath, which became more and more difficult, and hoped
that the store clerk would give up the chase. Bag after bag of garbage piled on
top of him. Mystery sauces and wetness seeped out of the myriad of bags that
now covered his head. After what felt like an eternity, the clerk withdrew her
arm and the lid slammed closed.

Ten minutes later, Nathan decided to make his move. He eased
the piles of filth off of himself and lifted the lid an inch. His cell phone
rang.
SHIT!
Closing the lid, he frantically pulled his phone out of his
pocket and dropped it in the process. Just like in all those stupid movies. He
managed to recover the phone on the third ring and answered it.

“Hello?” he whispered as loud as he dared. Bracing himself
for the lid to fly open again, he heard his friend on the other end of the
call.

“Dude, where you at?” Ronnie asked.

“I’m sitting in a dumpster.”

Ronnie chuckled. “Why are you sitting in a dumpster?”

“This homicidal 7-Eleven clerk is trying to kill me, I
think.”

“That’s fucked up, bro. I can barely hear you, can you talk
up?”

“No I can’t talk up, I told you someone’s trying to kill me
and I’m hiding!” Nathan replied in one of those whisper-yells.

“Oh, right on, right on.”

“Hold on a sec.”

Nathan ventured another peek out into the alley. Through the
slit of light he allowed, he saw no sign of the infected clerk. The alley
appeared to be empty. He stood up, flipped the lid back, and sprung out of the
dumpster, grateful for the fresh air. Nathan inched his way to the entrance of
the alley, peered around the corner and surveyed the street. No sign of the
clerk.

“Okay, so where are you at buddy?” Nathan asked, more himself
now.

“Walkin’ your way bro. I think we should boogie on outta
here; shit’s gettin’ crazy!”

“Sounds good to me, but I’m not at work and I’m not equipped
to deal with any of the shit that’s going down,” Nathan said as he made his way
up to Penn Avenue, keeping an eye open for any immediate dangers. People
everywhere ran in a panic, but nobody paid him any attention.

“For sure. You got a plan?” asked Ronnie.

“Nope, none whatsoever. All I know is that we definitely need
to get out of the city. I gotta get back to Eve as soon as I can.”

Ronnie answered in an unusually lucid tone, “Don't count on
using any of the bridges, cuz. They got the National Guard rollin’ in to shut
‘em all down.”

Their options for escape dwindled at an alarming rate. Nathan
racked his brain for an alternative. He had seen enough end-of-the-world movies
to know that the government would try to contain what was going on downtown.
They weren't going to let anyone leave. Then, it hit him. He was about a block
down from Liberty Avenue, which contained a strange mish-mash of retail stores
and businesses. Among the eclectic menagerie of shops, was an Army/Navy surplus
outlet. Although an odd store to find downtown, it had been there for decades.
If he and Ronnie were to escape to the North Hills, they were going to need
some survival gear and weapons.

“Alright dude, here’s what we're gonna do. You remember that
Army/Navy store on Liberty? I’m going to head there and grab some weapons;
there are people killing each other in the streets. We're never gonna make it
if we can't defend ourselves. I can try to meet you at the Steel Plaza T
station. We'll take the subway out of the city.”

“They've probably stopped running the trains, bro,” Ronnie
stated. “If they wanna keep us in, then they wouldn’t want the subway running.”

“Yeah, I thought of that. We can follow the subway tunnels to
the North Shore Connector that runs under the river to the stadiums. That would
get us across the river and on the north side of town.”

Ronnie seemed a bit more optimistic now. “You're a certified
genius, man.”

“Let’s hope so. Alright, I need to call Eve and see if she’s
okay. I'll meet you at the subway station in about thirty minutes.”

“Right on.”

Nathan ended the call and speed dialed Evelyn. The phone rang
and rang; finally, she answered.

“The Sprint customer you are trying to reach is currently
unavailable. At the tone…”

Fuck
. Something had to be wrong. She definitely would
have answered the call, especially knowing that he was downtown and near the
riots in the South Side. He tried again, hoping that she just couldn't get to
the phone in time, but yielded the same result.

I gotta get home,
he thought as he turned left onto
Sixth Avenue, crossed Penn Avenue, and ran a block up to Liberty. The city was
now in a full blown panic. Cars gridlocked every street and intersection. The
sidewalks were overrun with throngs of pedestrians, most of whom were in a big
hurry to get the hell out of there. Nathan pushed his way through the oncoming
people traffic and managed to go the three blocks to the surplus store. He
sidestepped into the doorway and peered in through the safety glass door.

The place appeared to be vacant, although after his encounter
at the 7-Eleven, he wasn’t about to assume anything. Someone had shattered the
glass near the lock and mangled the security mesh. Reaching his hand in, he
turned the door lock, opened it, and walked into the store. The place appeared
to be deserted. No sounds emanated from inside. He looked around and took a
mental inventory of equipment he might need. The fact that he had zero
military, survival, or weapons training didn't bother him; coming up with a
shopping list was more or less common sense. Not to mention, he’d seen a lot of
action movies.

Still, he wished that Evelyn was here. She had amassed a vast
knowledge of this kind of stuff while researching her books. The Navy even
allowed her to shadow SEAL training while she was working on her last political
thriller. While at the Naval base in Coronado, Evelyn had sent him a slew of
pictures, most of which depicted her surrounded by hard-bodied, roughneck SEAL
candidates. Dressed in the same attire as the recruits, she looked like one of
the boys. She knew how to shoot. She knew how to handle herself. She knew how
to survive.

The first thing Nathan decided to do was to get a change of
clothes. The khakis, button down shirt and loafers wouldn't cut it in this
situation. People were going crazy all throughout the city as far as he could
tell. The temperature continued to plummet, so he had to go more tactical with
the attire. A few minutes later, he was clad in tactical winter gear; heavy
coat and cargo pants covered in pockets, wool socks, insulated combat boots,
and gloves. He looked like a soldier ready for war.
I bet Eve would be
pretty turned-on if she saw me in this getup,
he thought.
Now, time for
some weapons
.

Grabbing a large duffel bag and backpack, he walked up and
down each aisle, pausing here and there to grab items off the shelves. First
aid supplies, a few ready-to-eat meal packs, flashlights, batteries, a canteen,
iodine tablets, rope, a couple KA-Bar knives, and anything else he remembered
seeing in all those war flicks.

He then went to the front of the store. Breaking the glass of
the display counter, he began to fill the duffel bag. A few 9mm semi-automatic
pistols, a 12-gauge pump-action shotgun, a couple of UMP45 automatic
sub-machine guns, and a shit load of ammunition for them.
I might not be as
well-versed in this stuff as Eve, but I played a lot of Call of Duty on the
Xbox,
he thought as he chuckled to himself.
Time to see if I’m as good
with these weapons in real life as I am in video games
.

The gear weighed a ton and would slow him down, but whoever
was crazy enough to chase him with all this firepower wasn't going to be
standing long enough to chase him far. As he headed towards the door, he saw
something that caught his eye. Nathan hurried over and picked up the large,
black machete.
I always wanted one of these
.

Before he could turn back towards the exit, the sound of a
shotgun round chambering sounded behind him.

“Don’t… Move… A muscle…” said a scratchy voice behind him.
“Hands above your head. Now.”

Nathan complied, raising his hands up, still clutching the
machete. So far he was batting a thousand. He should have checked the store to
see if he was alone before going on his shopping spree. It would be nice if he
was able to catch a break. At this rate, he definitely needed one if he was to
make it back to Evelyn. He hoped that she was alright.

“Now, drop the bags… And that machete,” commanded the raspy
voice.

“You got it. There’s no need to shoot me. I don’t mean any
harm,” Nathan said, trying to sound as calm as possible. He guessed that the
man behind him was the owner of the store and assumed that the guy was also a
vet, which meant that he knew a plethora of creative and efficient ways to kill
him.

The man behind him laughed, mucus tumbling around his lungs
with each cackle. “No, you just decided to come on in and help yourself.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn't know anyone was here. I needed
some stuff that would help me get back home to my fiancé. All hell is breaking
loose out there and she’s in trouble. I would be more than happy to pay for
everything I took, if you would just let me leave.”

“Turn around, son,” the man said.

Nathan turned and faced his captor, surprised at what he saw
before him. Sure enough, the man before him was, in fact, a veteran. Vietnam he
guessed by his age. Various service patches covered his old green BDU shirt.
The man wore a black beret which donned the Army Ranger insignia, confirming
that this guy could definitely kill him a dozen different ways with his bare
hands. The name patch on his shirt read Kapinsky and the rank patch on his
sleeve indicated that he was a Master Sergeant.

Kapinsky didn't look well. He was pale, with dark circles
under his bloodshot eyes. Sweat beaded over his face and flowed freely, soaking
his shirt. Dried blood caked the corners of his mouth. Nathan saw a field
dressing wrapped around his left hand; dark blood had soaked through the gauze
and dripped onto the floor.
Crap, this guy looks like he’s caught whatever
was turning people into monsters… And he was holding him at gunpoint!