The Rabid: Rise (6 page)

“Older, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“You would have guessed I’m older. It’s okay, I’ve always looked older. Got
ten Ruiz in a couple of good dust ups over it.”

“
Yeah, Ruiz, he seems wound pretty tight.”

She shrugs. “He’s passionate, no doubt. I remember, I was f
ifteen, and we were leaving a movie and this dude, must have been in his thirties, straight up grabbed my ass. Ruiz hit him so hard I thought the guy’s head was going to pop off his shoulders. He’s always been that way; acting first and thinking second.”

“You should have called the cops, him grabbing your ass and everything.”

She shakes her head. “Nah, didn’t want to risk Ruiz going to jail too for exploding on the guy. Besides, sometimes a punch in the face trumps handcuffs.”

“You’ve got a point there,
” I say, thinking of the General.

“All that stuff you saw in the truck, him blowing his fuse,
well, that’s just Ruiz. But he’s got a heart for people, for helping, this whole thing, this community, it’s his baby. He’s just protective, you know?”

“My sister is the same way. I think we all are when it comes to family, especially now, when they’re all we’ve got left.”

“Oh, your sister, she’s crazy about you. I can tell.”

A paper plate is plopped down in front of me.

“Thank you, Francisco,” Katia croons.  The clatter of pots and pans and a few muffled bouts of profanity is the only response she receives.

Roasted potatoes. An egg. Two pancakes.

No obvious signs of saliva.

“Not half bad for
post-apocalyptic grub, right?”

“I’m not complaining.” I start cutting away with the edge of a plastic fork.

“We’ve gotten pretty lucky on the eggs these last two runs. We’ve got flour coming out of our ears, so, if nothing else, we can survive off pancakes.”

“Better than canned veggies,
” I say through a mouthful of potato. “Some water would be great.”

She yells for Francisco
. He reluctantly appears and fetches a bottle of water. I thank him. He doesn’t respond, just glares at Katia before returning to the next room.

“So
, what was life like for the urban cowboy before the shit hit the fan?”

“Quieter, much quieter. Less bullets. Less death.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, ha, ha. Where’d you live? Where’d you go to school? What’d you do for fun?”

“Well,” I swallow a piece of egg and tap my fork
against the edge of the plate, “I’m from a backwoods town and went to a backwoods school that you’ve probably never heard of.”

“Try me.”

“Watkinsville.”

She laughs. “Okay, you’re right, never heard of it.”

“It’s okay, we like it that way. Keeps the degenerates away.” I wink. She laughs. The pancakes are dry and tasteless. “Dance was my thing. I did talent competitions and recitals. Wasn’t that popular because of it, a lot of sideway glares, more jeers than cheers, but, it was my passion. Gotta follow the passion, you know?”

She’s smiling.

Kindness? Surprise? Restrained laughter?

“Dance? I’d
never have guessed.” She props a cheek on two fingers. She’s sitting sideways, facing me, legs crossed.

“I’ve heard that a lot. It’s usually followed by open mockery.”

She frowns and shakes her head. “Well, they’re assholes. You get one life, live it doing what makes you happy.”

“If all this blows over
, I might have you come spread that gospel in Watkinsville.”

“
What? Are there no girls there that can appreciate a guy that knows how to move?”

“None th
at I’ve found,” I squeak out as I quickly focus in on the next bite of pancake.

“I make you nervous, don’t I
, Tim?”

It’s clear now.

She’s enjoying this. She’s having a go at me.

I thought that perhaps she’d taken a genuine interest.

Stupid Timmy, real dreamer you are.

I
set my fork down. “I’m okay,” I answer flatly. I meet her eyes and force a smile before turning my attention back to my food.

She clicks her tongue. “Well, glad to hear your nerves are steady, that means you should be able to start work when you’re finished eating. Got a place all carved out for you with the other grease monkeys.”

“What?”

“Mechanical.”

“Like...working on cars and shit?”

“
Yessir.”

“But, I’ve n
ever worked on a car in my life,” I object. Her back is already to me, her hips carrying her towards the door.

“You’ll manage. You can be their wrench bitch or something.”

***

And so it is.

Wrench bitch.

Katia introduces me around. The guys all shake my hand with little interest, some visibly annoyed. They obviously have their routine. Their circle. And here I am, this fresh faced know-nothing, fucking it all up.

As soon as Katia
is gone, they go back to their engines and start running me around like a pack animal.

“Hey
, kid, gimme that breaker bar.”

“What’s a...”

“Long ass silver thing...the fuckin’ bar...c’mon kid, you’re slowin’ the works here.”

As soon as I hand off the
giant hunk of silver nonsense to the smelly guy in the blue onesie, someone else is growling for me.

“Throw me the combo wrench and a couple zip ties.”

“Combo...”

“It’s that one...Jesus.” He stabs an aggravated fin
ger towards the mass of tools lying on the ground. “You know what zip ties look like?” He licks his rotten teeth, glaring at me beneath bushy eyebrows.

“...yeah.” I drop my head, my face flush,
as I walk over to a cardboard box filled with multicolored zip ties.

“So, why zip ties?” I ask as he yanks the items from my hands.

“We don’t really fix shit here, kid. We plug it. We tie it. We pray over it.”

“Ah, well, better than nothing.”

The man laughs and spits near the front bumper. “Ya’ll hear this fucking kid? Better than nothing. Where the hell did they pick you up at, anyway?”

***

I find Katia behind building
11
on a small stretch of grass.

I hear her long before I see her.

Grunts. Rawrs. Grrrs.

She’s
hacking, slashing, and kicking a thick log. She backs up after each series of strikes and charges again, changing up her attack, ducking and kicking, over handed and under handed.

It’s all very theatrical.

Sweat drips down and around her eyes and turns her paper thin undershirt translucent against her toned caramel colored torso. She turns her head towards me and nods before charging in for another attack.

Three quick blows and a cresce
nt kick.

Chunks of wood spiral o
nto the grass.

“How were things in the grease pit?” She walks back towards me, hands on her head, swords pointed towards the sky, breathing heavy.

“How the hell do you think they went? Those guys and me, we don’t mix. I have a feeling you knew that would be the case.”

She shrugs. “Don’t know till you try.”

“Uh huh, well, I tried. You can find me something else.”

“Not sure there is anything else. I’ll have to dig.”

“Well, dig, really hard, because I’m not going back there.”

“And, what do I get for helping you out?”

I hold my arms out sarcastically. “My eternal gratitude will have to do.”

She taps a finger against her chin as if actually giving thought to my offer. “Oh, alright, I suppose that’ll do.” She swings her swords around once a
nd sheaths them away smoothly.  “You’re softer than I thought you’d be, especially for a Georgia boy.”

“What, because I can’t swing a wrench?”

“Isn’t that what ya’ll do out there? Change your own oil and blow the stuffing out of woodland creatures?”

“It’s not what I did. Wasn’t really my thing.”

She hops down off the small patch of earth and stands toe-to-toe with me on the pavement, her shoulders still rising and falling rapidly. “You can handle a gun at least, right?”

“I haven’t gotten this far
based solely off my charm.”

She laughs,
bringing a hand down on my shoulder. “That’s the goddamn truth.”

“Wait...what’s that supposed to...”

“Oh, Tim, you’re hopeless. You stare at my ass like it’s the last meal on the planet, but, for some reason, you’ve yet to try to get yourself a bite.” She brushes the tips of her fingers across my cheek, scratching me gently with her nails.

My heart pops against my ribs. I cough and fall away from her, trying to get my bearings back. “Wow, you’re not exactly subtle are you?”

“Tim, look around you. There isn’t exactly time for subtlety.”

“Maybe I just prefer to be a gentleman.”

“Or, maybe you’re just scared.”

“Scared? Of you? No, dream on.”

“Prove it then.”

“How?”

“Put your hands on me.”

I glance around, nervous. “What the hell...no! Put my hands on you? What does that even mean? Like
, grab your boobs?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, moron, put your hands on my hips. Pull me towards you. You’re not even comfortable being close to me, are you? Are you gay?”

“Uh no, I like girls. I’m not gay.”

“Virgin?”

“Okay, you know what, screw this...”

“Oh
, my God, that’s it isn’t it? You’re a virgin! Holy shit, why didn’t you just...”

“Fuck off!”

She blockades me as I turn to storm away, my ego throbbing like a smashed thumb. “Oh, chill out. There’s no need to get all hurt about it, shit. It’s not a big deal.”

“What are you supposed to be
, Katia? The community...”

“If you call me a whore, or a slut, or anything else that implies spread legs and easy picking
s, I’ll slap the shit out of you!” She holds a finger inches away from my nose.

“Okay, calm down
, crazy. I’m just saying, I’ve never seen a girl as forward as you, okay. Usually the guy has got to put some work in.”

“Yeah, well, guys don’t exactly find me easy to talk to.”

“Could be the tattoos and the swords.”

“Well, there you go
. All the more reason I have to be forward when I want to get to know someone. Plus, you’re like the first guy remotely close to my age.”

“So it’s a lack of options?”

She throws her head back, puffing her cheeks in frustration. “Holy shit, no. And a lack of confidence is unattractive, just FYI.”

“
So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying...”

The sound of rapid footsteps interrupts our conversation.

It’s Ruiz.

“Guys, you’ve gotta come see this. Bytes broke through!”

9

“Project what?” Katia asks again, shaking her head.

“Project Lockjaw,” Bytes repeats himself, chomping his teeth together to drive it home.

“You know, Lockjaw, cause of how the bastard
s bite?” Ruiz acts as if it should be obvious.

“Makes sense to me,
” Bethany says.

“So what’s
this Project Lockjaw, spill it?” I’m antsy, bouncing up on the balls of my feet.

It’s Christmas morning in hell.

“Tell em’.” Ruiz slaps Bytes on the shoulder, spurring him on. 

“Project Lockjaw
was a program developed and implemented by DARPA. Essentially a super soldier program.”

“Super soldier program?” Katia is pacing by the balcony door.

“Soldiers that don’t register pain. Inhuman strength. Speed. All of them under the control of a single master. Activated and deactivated by the press of a button.”

“What does this ha
ve to do with anything?” I ask. “I don’t see any soldiers out there running around. I see walking corpses. My school wasn’t filled with enlisted men. Jeff Fuller wasn’t a marine; he was a fat asshole with a love for deer stands and a deep dislike for me.”

“Who
’s Jeff Fuller?” Katia asks.

“The kid who sat in front of me in school. First one I saw turn. No bite. Just started puking and then he fell out, sto
pped breathing, and died right there. Next thing I know, the teacher is checking on him and he’s back up, his teeth in her neck.”

“Jesus!
” Katia exclaims.

“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty.”

“No bite, you’re sure?” Katia asks.

“Unless he was hiding it and just had a miraculously slow turn time, then yeah, I’m pretty positive.”

“He wasn’t bitten, Timmy is right, it was a flu shot,” Bytes says with a nonchalant confidence. He runs his fingers across the keyboard, the glow of the screens changing from orange to blue. White letters run across the face of his glasses. He stops and rests his chin on the tops of his knuckles “How many of you in this room got the flu shot this year? Raise your hand if you did.”

Bethany and I didn’t get one
this year. I know that for sure. Momma didn’t get one either. We’re not anti-vaccine. It’s just something we never got around to. It wasn’t unusual for us to skip two years and then have Momma get it for us on a whim; usually at the drug store when she was picking up a prescription or refilling her vitamin supply.

All of us scan the room
searching for a raised hand.

There isn’t one.

Bytes nods, as if he’d anticipated such a response. “Well, there you have it.”

“You’re saying the flu vaccine did this?” I laugh and shake my head. “Come
on, man, what does the drive say?”

“You’re close
. And it’s not like the government hasn’t tested weapons on civilians before. Do any of you recall the early 1950’s?” Blank stares. “I figured as much. The CIA hauled their happy asses into the low income neighborhoods of St. Louis. Now, these were mostly black neighborhoods, a majority of the population was children under the age of 12. They set up these giant motorized blowers on top of the high rises and told the residents that they were experimenting with a smokescreen device in order to protect them from Russian attacks.” Bytes pulls a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, pops one out and lights up, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. “If you see guys in suits in your neighborhood setting up some shit like that today, it’s gonna crash harder than Icarus, folks are wise about it now, they don’t trust the government. But, back then, you gotta remember, Cold War, there was a lot of paranoia about the Russians and a potential attack on America, so, people just went with it. But, little did they know that the good old boys at the CIA were there to test weapons on them. Hundreds of pounds of finely powdered zinc cadmium sulfide and radioactive material were blown out over that population.”

“Bullshit.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand and turn towards Katia. She’s standing with her hips cocked, her hands wrapped across the hilts of her swords.
She looks intrigued. “What, seriously, you believe that? Flu shots?”

She shrugs.

“You don’t? Same people that have been hunting you and your sister. You don’t believe they’re capable testing weapons on their own people?” Ruiz seems offended by my skepticism.

“
It’s the General. He’s hunting us, his men are hunting us. He’s the only one I’ve seen do shit. Excuse me if I’m skeptical.”

Ruiz smirks. “
Are you stupid? Where do you think these assholes get their funding? Their hardware? They aren’t running yard sales and selling cookies door to door.”

“
The men hunting you are petals. They are a product of a very deep root system. Project Lockjaw goes all the way to the tiptop. They aren’t out here chasing you down of their own volition.” Bytes turns back and forth in his chair, relaxed, hands locked behind his head.

I can’t
really argue with their logic. “Okay, so flu shots, how do they play in?”

“They were the deli
very system for the nanorobots.”

“
Nanorobots?”

“Yes, they are 1.5 nanometers across
, invisible to the human eye. They weren’t in every single vaccine, but, they were in enough of them. The robots attach to the brain stem.” Bytes turns one of the computer screens towards me. It’s a stock image of a skull, with the spinal column attached, set against a green and black background. Bytes points to the bottom of the skull and clicks the mouse button once. A herd of, what appear to be, tiny metallic spiders begin latching onto where the spine and the skull connect. “You get the general idea.”

“Wh
oa, that’s pretty gross looking,” Bethany says.

“You see
, Bytes, this is why I stay away from you techno geeks, shit like this,” Katia says.

He pouts. “
C’mon, baby, we’re not all bad.” He reaches a hand towards her and pats his lap with the other.

“I’ll cut it off.” Katia pulls
one of the swords half way from its sheath.

Bytes laughs and turns the screen away from us. “
It looks like, according to the information on this drive, that this was supposed to give whoever was in charge control over the hosts body. They would hit the button and the robots attached to the brain stem would go live. And just like that, worldwide zombie army.”

“They
were supposed to have control over each individual person?” I ask.

“No, it
was a hive mind scenario. One switch to turn all of them on. The orders were pre -programmed. Something went wrong. It was just supposed to be a test run, you know, to see if it worked, before they started using it on actual soldiers. They were going to turn them on, have everyone dance in circles, or something, and then flip them off again; no one would ever be the wiser. The hosts didn’t adapt well, obviously. Even worse, we know that the hosts can spread their nanomachines to others through the bites. The nanomachines are self-replicating. A nasty feature, but, genius nonetheless, for when you want to turn your enemy into your friend. What a way to build an army, huh?”

This connects something sitting on the back burner of my mind
. Something I’ve heard before. Ruiz and Bytes can see my wheels spinning. They wait patiently while I snap my fingers and tap my heels. “Okay, yeah, Bo said something like that.”

“Bo?”

“The name isn’t important. He was a guy that saved our ass. Militia type with different chapters spread out across the country. Anyway, he said that when all this stuff hit the fan that he got reports from each chapter, at pretty much the exact same time, letting him know it was going down. Like a switch had been flipped.”

Bytes shrugs. “Yep, that’s pretty much what it says they did.”

“So, if they turned it on, they can turn it off, right?” Katia asks.

Bytes shakes his head. “They’d have done that. They lost control, obviously. It’s beyond them now. They’re just trying to save whatever ass they’ve got left. Hence
, why they’re after this drive and what’s on it.”

I walk around the table to Ruiz, talking low so Bethany can’t hear me. “Okay, so we can use this.”

“Use it for what?”

“To get Momma back, this is a bargaining chip, a big one. They don’t want this shit getting out.”

Ruiz barely turns his head to address me; he speaks from one corner of his mouth. “Nah, kid, this is much bigger than that. You don’t understand what’s going on. This thing is a flak jacket for us. Let’s just finish up here and I’ll...”

“What does that mean, a flak jacket?”

“It means we can use it to make the guys at the tiptop think twice. If they know we have this, if they know that we can release this information, then they’re likely to think twice before making a move.”

“Release it where? Where are you going to release it
, Ruiz? You gonna fold up a paper airplane and send it out on the wind?”

Ruiz turns to face me, each foot falling heavy against the floor. “Bytes is working on something to get us
back online. Something to get us communicating with the great beyond.” Ruiz locks his thumbs together and wags his fingers in front of my nose like a butterfly.

“Do you know what’ll happen if you do that?”

“I know exactly what’ll happen.”

“You’
ll start World War Three!” Volume control isn’t a priority for me anymore.

“This is World War Three,
manito!
You’re already in it.”

“The rest of the world will pound us into dust. They’ll tear this entire fucking country down to its foundation. Is that what you want? For us? For your sister?
We should be trying to rebuild, not cause more destruction.”

He steps in closer, flexing his jaw.
“How long have we been pieces of shit on the boot heels of these assholes? We were puppets on strings. They maneuvered us however they saw fit. Digging into our emails. Our phone calls. Disarming us. Sending our brothers to die for their petty bullshit. Now...now they use us as lab rats. You think all of that should go unanswered? That we should just let them sweep it under the rug?”

I can sense the tension in his voice. “Ruiz, that’s not what I’m saying
, but governments are going to rise. They’re going to fall. Yeah, you may crush them. But, we’ll get crushed right along with em’. When all the dust is settled, when we’re in the ground, another government, just as shitty and broken as this one, will rise to take its place. It’ll be for nothing. Instead, how about we rise? We can play this thing to our advantage.”

He jabs a finger into my shoulder. “
You’re blind on this one, kid. You don’t know what’s going on. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Just step back...”

“Dealing with the General is advantageous for all of us
. I’m not even saying to give him the drive; we can lure him out with it though. Get the bastard out in the open, and strike.”

“
Give the drive away? You want to give this information away as some bargaining chip? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“
No good can come from what you’re planning to do.”

“
In your opinion. I’m thinking big picture and you’ve got your head up your ass.”

“So what, we’re all going to go down because you’ve got some bullshit hard-on for the government?
You’re going to kill all of these people? Your own sister? You’re pathetic.” I shove him, not hard, just enough to make my point.

He shoves me
back, hard, with both hands, right in the center of my chest, and then he draws his gun. I stumble and catch myself against the kitchen counter. “What was that, you punk ass bitch? Say it again, didn’t quite hear you?”

I pull the pistol from my waistband and level it at his chest in a two handed grip. “
That’s the last time you’re pulling a gun on me.”

“Oh, you’ve got that right, because I’m about to blow your goddamn head off.”

We’re standing, muzzle to muzzle, fingers hovering over the triggers.

“Guys, hey now, not cool. No loaded weapons around the computers.” Bytes
chuckles with nervous energy, doing his best to diffuse the situation.

Katia and Bethany move towards us
, cautiously.

“Ruiz, chill okay, he didn’t mean anything by it. Put the gun away. Our enemy is out there.” Katia is beside him now. She wraps one hand across his wrists, attempting to pull his hands down.

“Tim, not here, okay? Think about Momma.”

I lock eyes with Ruiz. Seconds pass.
We reach silent agreement and slowly begin to lower our guns.

“I want both
of you out of here by tomorrow,” Ruiz growls, dropping his pistol back into its holster.

“That’s fine. You can run
this deal off the cliff by yourself.” I storm past Bethany and out the door.