Death Squad Box Set | Books 1-4, page 2
part #1 of Death Squad Box Set Series
The man was standing there, with blood over his front and chewing on something that looked like raw meat. Jacob slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Fuuuuck. . .”
He clicked on the Comment button and flexed his fingers, moving to write a message several times before he finally calmed down enough to know what he was going to type.
Is this shit for real?
He hit Post. His comment joined a host of others and was immediately swallowed by a vast cascade that ran down the page.
The live video wasn’t finished yet. The figure slowly got to his feet and, eyes fastened on the screen, stepped toward it.
“Oh my God. Run, Marnie. For God’s sake, please. Run.”
She couldn’t hear his pleas, nor from the thousands of others watching in morbid fascination.
Marnie was doing exactly what everyone watching was doing. She was mesmerized, frozen in place, gibbering and whining as the figure closed in, eyes wide and mad, mouth mawing open like the jaws of hell, preparing to end Marnie’s suffering for good.
The camera got knocked to the ground, bouncing along the paving slabs. Now Jacob could see the blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Marnie’s arms waved, struggling to get the figure off her. The wet slapping, snapping sounds were made worse by the fact he couldn’t see how they were caused. The mind conjured up alternatives, possibilities far more grotesque than what was actually taking place. Although, by her screams, the growl, and muffled cries, Jacob found that hard to believe.
Then, silence. A pause before a shadow stood over the phone. A momentarily flash of sunlight illuminated Marnie’s wrecked face as she turned and headed away. A star of her own video.
Jacob sat in silence a moment, horrified and disgusted by what he’d just seen. He didn’t know what to make of it. All he could think to do was click Share and let everyone see the injustice that was done to her.
He never finished the essay. It seemed trivial now.
5.
MARNIE’S VIDEO wasn’t the only one that got uploaded via live stream, but it was the first. Within minutes there were dozens of them, then hundreds, and soon, the entire internet was awash with video documentation for what was happening in Austin.
Someone later spliced the videos together, connecting and overlapping them to create a timelapse graphic that showed where and how fast the virus was spreading. It looked remarkably like a bacterium multiplying and commandeering a petri dish. It was indeed a virus, and it was ripping the Velvet Rut apart.
The general public weren’t the only viewers of the incident. People in high places were watching too. And they were ready to take action.
6.
SOME PEOPLE were idiots, Malcolm thought as he got to the intersection. He’d forgotten to indicate, he was so annoyed by what the people gathered on the street had done. Stepped into traffic like lemmings. He’d been aware of them, gathered around as they were. He didn’t know why, didn’t care to know why. He glanced in his rearview mirror as the crowd screamed. Other cars weren’t shy in slowing down to get a good view and cause a tailback. Malcolm hated rubberneckers even more than suicidal idiots.
He’d hit the brakes and managed to avoid the lemmings. He’d honked his horn to vent his spleen a little before hitting the gas and pulling away. If he’d hit one of them, whose side would the judge come down on? Not the innocent driver, that was for sure.
“Calm down, Mal,” his wife, Abigail, said softly.
She could read him better than a book. She often knew what he was going to do before he did himself. He tended to fly off the handle sometimes. He forced himself to smile and shared it with her.
“I am calm,” he said.
He glanced back to see the girls were happily reading their comic books, giggling at the funniest pictures. They were good girls, and that helped him to calm down too. He smiled and reached over to squeeze his wife’s knee. She grinned back at him. He was blessed with this family.
They were heading out on a camping trip and were very much looking forward to it. There was only so much time you could spend in a city before it started to wear you down. It was about the right time for them to get out and surround themselves with some nature.
They were blissfully unaware of the events taking place outside their car. The radio wasn’t turned on and Abigail had confiscated all their electronic devices before they’d set off, so they could really be together. It was good to unplug.
They were coming up to the turnpike that would take them beyond the city limits. Already the hostile grey of the city was merging with green and yellow. Another few miles and they would see giant fir trees and rolling green hills on either side. Man, was this a beautiful country.
“Oh my God,” Abigail said. “What is that?”
It took Malcolm a moment to recognize what his wife was referring to. It was only when he noticed it moving out the corner of his eye that he saw it. He leaned forward in his seat and gazed up at the object floating above them. Even at this angle, he couldn’t make out the whole thing.
It was grey and hard, like concrete. He’d noticed it earlier but his mind had decided it was some kind of overpass or bridge. But it wasn’t. It was a solid mass and it was coming down, stretching beyond the full expanse of the road.
Malcolm’s first thought was that it was some kind of alien ship. He’d never held much truck with such things before, but he was certainly open to the possibility now. What other explanation could there be? And now, it was falling faster. Malcolm made his decision immediately. Whatever it was, it wasn’t usual. Usual was predictable. Usual was safe. His instincts screamed at him to get as far from this thing as possible.
He shifted down a gear and mashed his foot on the gas. The engine roared and struggled to pick up the way it would have if they hadn’t brought so much on their camping trip.
“Malcolm. . .” Abigail said, bracing herself and gripping her seat with her hands.
The girls in the back began to cry. Abigail tried to calm them, but it was obvious in her tone of voice that she wasn’t relaxed either.
It was a race against time, the time it took for the object, whatever it was, to slam into the earth and block their escape. Malcolm needed to pass under it before it did that. Or terrible things are going to happen, he heard a voice in the back of his mind say.
Now Malcolm was closer, he could see the bottom of the block wasn’t solid at all, but some kind of thick liquid. It was partially translucent with sunlight shining through it, casting rainbow ribbons across the hood of his car. Malcolm kept his foot depressed. He could see in his mirrors that the cars behind had slowed down rather than attempt to speed through.
Malcolm’s car passed within the object’s shadow now, speeding rapidly for the line of sunlight that marked the finish line on the other side. The block was falling faster now.
It was going to be a close thing.
The engine screamed, matching his daughters’ tone, and the bubbly soft liquid descended the final distance and slammed on top of the car.
The car was immobilized immediately, the sticky goo trapping it like a giant piece of flypaper. No way they were getting through this sucker. Malcolm pressed the gas pedal in an attempt to push through it. The engine only whined, finding no traction. It was no good. They were stuck.
The windows hadn’t burst or exploded, and the car was in perfectly good shape. They were so close to getting through, too. Just a few more yards. The sunlight taunted him, bright on the other side of the gelatinous mass.
Malcolm turned to his family. “It’s all right. We’re okay.”
The girls were crying. Abigail removed her seatbelt and climbed into the back to hug the girls. She shushed them in an effort to calm them down.
“This stuff we’re trapped in, it’s not solid,” Malcolm said. “I’m sure we can dig our way out.” He smiled at his kids. “We’re going to be all right.”
The long hair on his girls’ heads began to rise, forming dark haloes of brown. They had stopped their crying and stared at each other, wearing matching expressions of horror. It reminded Malcolm of the electric orb machine at the museum they’d visited one weekend in autumn the previous year. His kids had been excited to put their hands on the machine as it charged their bodies with electricity and made their hair stand up on end. They hadn’t been horrified then.
Because they knew they wouldn’t be harmed.
The whole car hummed. Glancing out the window, Malcolm noticed the liquid was changing. Through the thickness of the gloop was a wall of something solid, approaching fast, as the bolt of electricity altered the gel’s molecules and stiffened, turning rock solid.
Malcolm, poor though his level of chemistry was, knew what was in the cards. He looked at his family, tears already in his eyes.
“I’m sorry—” he managed to say before the car imploded, the liquid solidifying around them, crushing the car like an empty tin can.
7.
MALCOLM WAS an asshole.
No one had a kind word to say about him, Johnny was sure. He’d left to go on holiday knowing there was a big meeting this week. He’d chosen to take it right now to avoid having to do any of the hard work. Malcolm wasn’t a team player. He was a loner and only managed to become division manager because he’d been at the company so long.
Johnny slammed the phone down, threatening to break the handset. He’d tried calling Malcolm a dozen times already. It turned out dear old Malcolm had intentionally given them the wrong contact details. Marvelous. You simply couldn’t take off like that in the modern world. Malcolm thought he was still working in the slower-paced nineties.
Johnny shoved himself away from the table and stood up. He needed a little distraction.
Company life wasn’t without its perks. There was a girl he’d had his eye on for a while now. Her name was Nadia and she was the cutest thing he’d seen in this place since. . . well, the girl she’d replaced. Nadia was from Turkey. Her raven hair spilled down her tanned face. Her eyes were a vibrant green and really popped against her dark skin. He liked to think he saw something in her eyes that suggested she was dark of mind too. Most girls of her age were.
She’d replaced the previous girl who’d gotten a little too close to him in their relationships. He’d had to let her go and she hadn’t taken it well. Some girls exploded when you dumped them, others imploded. She’d been very much of the latter type. She’d had to check into a hospital for a migraine she’d contracted due to the stress.
Did Johnny feel guilty? Sure. He’d never taken the relationship seriously and knew she cared for him a great deal more than he did for her. He’d made his intentions clear, but she’d apparently been blind to them, preferring to let herself hope more could happen between them.
“Hey Nadia,” Johnny said, flashing the smile he considered winning. Nadia was with a co-worker, showing her the program she’d be using. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about that thing we mentioned before.”
Nadia grinned with those perfect teeth of hers, her eyes flashing seductively. “Sure.” She turned to her instructor. “If it’s all right?”
The instructor shrugged and nodded her head. She was as enthusiastic about her job as Johnny was.
Johnny had no “thing” to discuss with Nadia, save the burning passion that’d ignited them both. They needed to go somewhere quiet. Johnny knew the perfect spot. He touched her gently on the shoulder and nodded toward the fire escape.
They scaled the stairs until they reached the top. They were both a little out of breath when they got there. When she put her hands on either side of her slim waist and breathed in deeply to fill her lungs again, Johnny leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips.
She welcomed him, raising her hands and running her fingers through his hair. Her lips felt so soft against his.
“How about we take this party outside?” Johnny said.
“Sure,” Nadia said.
Johnny pushed against the fire escape bar. He knew the alarm wouldn’t go off as he’d been the one to disable it. There was the familiar suck of air as he pushed the door open, the bright blast of sunlight momentarily blinding him.
Austin sprawled beneath him. From here, they could hear the soft honk of angry horns and general background noise. But there was something else he hadn’t expected to see.
He felt his arousal begin to fade. The view still took his breath away, but this time for a completely new reason. It looked like something from the sci-fi novels he liked to read in his free time.
Nadia clearly hadn’t noticed it, as she was already wrapping her arms around his neck and preparing to press her lips against his again. For the first time in his life, Johnny wasn’t interested. He uncoupled her arms. She had a hurt expression on her face.
“Is something wrong?” she said.
“You could say that,” Johnny said.
A wall, a hundred feet tall, perhaps more—it was difficult to tell with the distance—wrapped around the entire city. The view of the landscape and nature in the distance had been completely blocked out. And it’d just appeared, as if from nowhere.
Something was happening. Something big.
On his right, he saw a bunch of helicopters depositing the final piece of wall in place, the ropes releasing and hoisting back inside the helicopter. There had been no thunderous boom as they’d dropped—the whole city would have heard them.
“What’s going on?” Nadia said.
“Quarantine,” Johnny said.
“What? What does that word mean? Quarantine?”
Johnny turned to look at her. “It means we’re fucked.”
ZOMBIE CITY
8.
THE WORDS didn’t make any sense to Samantha. The highly trained part of her brain used to interpret their meaning had shut down. It’d been malfunctioning ever since he came back into her life. All she could see was him. All she could think about was him. For the past four years, she’d hardly seen him, and now here he was, sitting opposite her at this restaurant. Permanently.
She peered over the Sunday broadsheet newspaper-sized menu and peered into his gorgeous blue eyes as they scanned their own menu. They flicked up. She quickly diverted her eyes away. Her cheeks flushed like an innocent teenager.
“Know what you want yet?” Tommy said.
You.
Despite his recent escapades in the Middle East, Tommy knew her better than anyone. There was only one dish she ever ordered in an Italian restaurant. The waiter approached with his notepad and pen.
“Ready to order?” he said.
“Yes, I think so,” Tommy said. “I’ll have the spaghetti bolognese, please.”
“And a chicken carbonara for me,” Samantha said.
“Wine?” the waiter said.
“The house red will be fine,” Tommy said.
The waiter nodded and turned to leave.
“So, here we are again,” Samantha said.
“Here we are,” Tommy said, reaching across the table and taking her hand. He turned her palm over and ran his fingers over the soft skin of her forearm. He knew it gave her goosebumps.
“How’s the research going?” Tommy said.
“Fine,” Samantha said. “We reprogrammed a virus we think can take on Ebola. We’ll begin injecting it into infected tissue soon.”
“Talking about this stuff really makes me hungry,” Tommy said with a curdled expression.
“You asked!” Samantha said. “Have you decided what you’re going to do next?”
Tommy had just returned and was weighing up his options. For the time being, he was still serving with the military.
“I’m going to try to get stationed here,” Tommy said.
“What if you can’t?”
“Then I’ll find something else.”
“You love your job.”
Tommy squeezed her hand. “I love you more.”
Another tingle up her spine. No need for the delicate touch this time. Tommy often had that effect on her.
They broke apart when the waiter brought their meals over. As he uncorked a fresh bottle of wine, Tommy and Samantha looked at their meals with some trepidation. The sauce was sloppy and gelatinous, the pasta either under or overcooked, and the meat was always chewy. But they hadn’t come here for the food. They came for the tradition. It was where they’d had their first date, and Samantha was nothing if not a helpless romantic.
The waiter poured a splash of wine into a glass and handed it to Tommy. He tasted it and nodded his head. The waiter performed an odd little movement, turning away from them for a moment as he poured their glasses and placed them on the table.
Samantha was thirsty and wet her lips with her tongue. She prepared to throw her head back and down the whole thing.
“Wait,” Tommy said. “I think there’s something in your glass.”
Indeed there was. Something dark at the bottom.
Damn restaurant. Why didn’t they clean properly? All it took was a little elbow grease. She regretted using the word “grease.” Why did they need to have this place as the location of their first-ever date? Because there aren’t many options outside the base, she told herself. This was the best there was.
She picked up her fork and used it to fish out the item. Whatever it was, it was solid. She worked it out and placed it on the palm of her hand.
“It’s a ring,” Samantha said. “The waiter must have dropped it.” She peered closely at it. “Funny,” she said. “It doesn’t look like a man’s ring. Actually, it looks very feminine—”
Samantha was a smart lady. She’d put herself through medical school and signed up to the military to help pay for her training. She did it with pleasure. She was from a long line of military veterans. She’d found a way to not only satisfy her own needs of finding a more cerebral career but also garnered the blessing of her somewhat prickly parents. It had been hard, grueling work, but it’d paid off.
Sometimes, away from the written word, it took her a little while to piece things together. She glanced into Tommy’s eyes. He reached across and took the hand that held the ring. Her palm was still damp with wine. Then he got to one knee.
