Authors: James Hoch
Madeline remained silent with a slight grin on her face. She didn't want to be too proud in her achievements so far; however, inside she was ready to flip the switch to unleash anarchy and destruction. It was part of her DNA.
"I have just the event to kick things off…the Super Bowl," she said, laughing at the intended and clever pun.
Harold didn't laugh.
Apparently,
she thought,
he has no sense of humor
.
She went on to explain the details of how the Super Bowl would be the first in many events that would lead to the destruction of mankind. She touted the plan as the ultimate push to set a catastrophic domino effect.
When she was done, Harold had returned to his chair, crossed his legs and said, "Splendid. I knew years ago that I made the right decision in picking you. The last time I saw you, you were a charming, beautiful little girl with ringlets of jet-black hair. You've grown to be such a commanding and alluring young woman. I look forward to seeing your considerable talents put to use. Your leadership will be well rewarded."
Harold stood up, put his raincoat on and said goodbye. Madeline watched him as he walked toward the door and slowly vanished in a swirl of smoke.
Seconds later, there was a soft knock at the door. "Come in," she said sternly.
William poked his head in, looked around the room and asked, "Where is Mr. Barker?"
"Come in, William, and close the door," Madeline said with a sinister undertone.
That was the last of the charming young intern. William became something…new.
Chapter 4
Having a large cat walk on you and knead its claws into your chest is definitely one way to get you to wake up.
"Good morning to you too, Jerky. Maybe the next time a simple lick on the nose would be better. Guess it's time to get up," I whispered looking over to see that Leonard had already gotten up.
"Good morning, Heckel. Did you sleep well?" Leonard asked as he came in from the back room. He held up two newly discovered cans and had a triumphant look on his face. How amazing that a simple can of tamales could bring such joy.
"Look what I found! We have breakfast! Hope you like tamales. Too bad we don't have any fresh eggs. I'm going to make a small fire and heat these babies up. I found a couple of old pans we can use. There's a large one that I can build a fire in."
"Is it smart to build a fire? You never know who's out there," I cautioned as I stood up.
"It's a chance I'm willing to take. I haven't had any hot food in months. Maybe you could stand guard and keep an eye out while I cook. I'll keep the fire small, just enough to get the food hot."
Leonard quickly gathered some cardboard, paper and broken boards. As I walked to the front door, I noticed that he had stacked all the wanna-be fire materials in an old baking pan. He stacked the firewood in the shape of a little teepee. It wasn't long before he had the boards burning and the beginnings of coals. He opened his pack and brought out a well-used Swiss army knife. It looked similar to mine. These days, it was the number one survival tool.
As soon as I stepped outside, I inhaled. There's nothing like the fresh air after a night's rain. However, this time something didn't smell right. Mixed with that rain there was the smell of death. From the corner of my eye, I saw something move. I quickly spun my head around and caught a quick glimpse of a young girl.
"Wait. Don't go!" I yelled. I started to run after her when Leonard grabbed my arm.
"Stop," he said. There was something in his voice that demanded my attention.
"Why?"
"That little girl is not some innocent child lost in the city," Leonard said. He wouldn't let go of my arm. His grasp tightened.
"What do you mean?"
As Leonard slowly released his grip, he whispered one word. "Madeline." His eyes darted from one end of the street to the next.
I looked at him incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about? That's not Madeline. It's some little girl."
"It's a little girl all right. It's what Madeline looked like when she was six years old. Somehow this manifestation or avatar of her is tracking me, which means we have to get out of here immediately."
"I don't understand."
"Look Heckel, all I know is that when this…this…little girl shows up, the real bitch isn't too far behind and she is determined to kill me. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm some loose end or somehow a threat. I just don't know, but I've been running from this little shit for a long time. Come on. We have to go. I'll grab the tamales. Maybe we can eat them later." Leonard pulled me into the store and we loaded up our packs. Jerky was nowhere in sight.
"Jerky," I called. "Come on. We have to leave." I started walking to the front door.
"No. We have to go out the back window. It'll be safer." Leonard hurried toward the back of the restaurant.
I called once more for Jerky as I went into the back room. Leonard opened the window and stepped out. As I put one leg over the windowsill, Jerky jumped up into my arms and licked my face. "Nice to see you too." Once outside, I set the cat down. She immediately followed close on my heels. She periodically looked back and hissed.
Leonard moved quickly through the streets. At one point, he started to run. I didn't hesitate and kept pace with him.
After several hours, Leonard ducked into an old warehouse. We had made our way down into the industrial section of Des Moines. As customary, Jerky ran off, probably in search of mice. Watching the cat hunker down ready to pounce on an unsuspecting critter, I wondered how long before I was eating mice. Food was definitely at a shortage and the way clothes hung on me was a testament.
Thinking about eating mice turned my already-empty stomach into a knot. However, the smell of those tamales had lingered in my nose for the past several hours and I was still hungry.
"Any chance of having some of those tamales? I'm starving," I said, turning around looking for Leonard. From the back of the warehouse, I heard, "Holy shit. I don't believe it."
I went running to the sound of Leonard's voice. I stopped abruptly when I saw Leonard standing in front of an old rusty VW Beetle, or as we affectionately referred to it,
The Bug
. My first thought was gas. I bet there's no gas. That's why no one has driven off with it.
"Any chance there's fuel in it?" I asked with a hint of hope laced in my tone. "It's probably turned to shellac by now anyway."
Leonard shouted, "It says there's a quarter of a tank."
"Yeah, but I'm sure that gauge has to be broken, not to mention the battery is most likely dead."
"Nothing that a good strong back can't fix. Here, you push and I'll pop the clutch," he said excitedly as he got into the old faded red car. "Maybe we'll be lucky."
Just as I started pushing, Jerky came running across the warehouse floor with a mouse in her jaws. She hopped into the car through an open window.
I pushed, grumbling my doubts.
"Faster," Leonard yelled as he turned the key and shifted into first gear.
Suddenly, it felt like I was eighteen years old. All my muscles seemed to get a burst of power. My legs felt like well-oiled pistons. The old VW picked up speed. Leonard yelled for it to go faster.
"Wow, you've almost got us up to twenty-five miles an hour," he exclaimed. "That's incredible."
"Pop the clutch," I yelled as my legs gained more momentum.
"Just a bit more," Leonard screamed.
"Now!" I demanded.
He popped the clutch. The rusty, dented old classic lurched forward. Black smoke came out the tailpipe, hitting me in the face. The engine sputtered as Leonard gave it more gas. It coughed once more like an old man just waking up. The car took off. I could hear hollering from Leonard and he slapped the steering wheel excitedly. Jerky looked out the window with the mouse's tail dangling from her mouth.
A cold wind swept past me. I sensed something approaching and it made me very afraid. I stood out in the street, looking in all directions. "Leonard," I shouted. "Something's not right. I'm getting a bad vibe."
Leonard had turned around and pulled up next to me. "Get in. I felt it too. We've got to get the hell out of here pronto."
I jumped in the passenger seat and before I could even shut the door, Leonard sped away from the warehouse.
The most difficult part of driving was finding passable routes. The highways were littered with wrecks and debris. At times, he had to drive off the road to get around a huge car pileup.
"Remember all the road rage?" I said as he navigated around a large overturned 18-wheeler.
"Yes, I do. That's one event that is most memorable among many," Leonard recounted.
"I'm not sure, but it might be a close second to that first event. Do you remember that one?"
"Do you mean Bloody Super Bowl Sunday?" Leonard asked as he shifted gears.
I thought back to that January in 2015. It started out as your typical media-hyped event, but soon escalated into what seemed out of control. "I remember people appeared to get especially agitated and worked up about the game about a week before it took place. There were numerous Super Bowl parties all over the place. I must have gotten invited to about a dozen of them. At the time, I didn't think anything of it, but I'm sure glad I decided to stay home by myself."
"Yeah, I remember people I was working with just went nuts over their favorite team," Leonard added.
"That Super Bowl game seemed to act as a catalyst for violence erupting in people," I said. "It was a trigger that started the killings and the beginning of the end."
Leonard stared out at the road. After an awkward silence, he said softly, "Madeline planted those seeds of violence to sprout on that Super Bowl Sunday. I'm sure of it."
"It was about the third quarter when all hell broke loose if I remember correctly. People in the stadium just went berserk. They were punching, strangling each other. People were literally kicked to death," I said clutching the front dash.
"They used anything they could find to kill each other. News commentators even began punching each other. Eventually, the TV station went black. People in my neighborhood were shooting each other. I got in my car and got out of the city. It looked like a war zone," Leonard said as a tear formed in the corner of his eye.
"Yeah, I was just out of grad school. I had been teaching at a high school. I watched the game by myself and when that third quarter started, I was frozen in disbelief. When I heard numerous gunshots being fired, I ran out of my apartment complex, got in my car, and drove out of the city as well. I didn't go back for several days. I agree, it definitely looked and sounded like a war zone."
For what seemed like an eternity, we both sat in silence staring out at the dark, cloud-covered sky. Large drops of rain started to hit the cracked windshield. Sudden bolts of lightning followed by an earsplitting peel of thunder seem to bring us each back to reality.
"Looks like a pretty good thunderstorm brewing," I muttered under my breath.
"I think I'm going to pull under the next overpass and wait it out. I don't trust these tires to do very well in a downpour and it appears we have no functioning wiper blades," Leonard said as he fiddled with the knob on the dash.
"Good idea."
A mile passed before the next overpass appeared. Leonard eased the VW to the side and got us out of the rain.
"I suppose you should shut it off to conserve gas," I told him.
Leonard nodded his head and replied, "Sure hope we can get it started again."
"Hopefully, the battery should be charged up, assuming it can hold a charge."
"We can always get your super legs to push us again."
I rolled my eyes and petted Jerky, who had decided to take her nap on my lap as we waited out the storm. Leonard leaned back and closed his eyes. I, too, shifted my weight to get more in a sleeping position. Jerky lifted one lid in irritation. "Sorry," I whispered.
As I drifted off, more thoughts of that horrible first event invaded my dream. It was a very vivid dream. I was standing in front of my couch watching the TV in horror. The football field, as well as the stands, was streaming in bright crimson. People slipped on the blood, only to find themselves propelled into another attacker. As I watched in horror, I noticed blood leaking from my widescreen HD TV. A severed arm fell out of the corner.
I tried to run only to look down and discover that two other dismembered hands had clasped themselves like shackles around my ankles. More body parts fell from the now blood-encrusted TV. Tormented screams and painful moaning came out in surround sound with a bone-crushing decibel. More hands crawled toward my legs and attached like leeches. One bloody female hand with a large diamond ring made its way up my crotch and inched seductively up my torso.
I attempted to reach up to pull it off only to have my arms yanked backward by several dismembered arms. My balance was finally disrupted and I fell back toward the couch. The female hand continued to crawl up my chest. My head was yanked back, exposing my neck. For some strange reason, I felt it was Madeline's hand. I suddenly remembered seeing that oversized, garish, bilious diamond ring on Madeline's hand that memorable day in ISS. I wanted to puke. One of her fingers played with my lips in a provocative manner. I tried to bite at it and spit it out. Slowly it inched its way up to the top of my head, playing with my hair and ear. As her finger slowly bored its way into my ear, blood flowed down my neck.