The Turning: A Tale of the Living Dead (27 page)

“Nobody sees Mr. Parker,” the guard
said.

“Skinny Dave sent me,” Jeff said,
taking a stab in the dark.

“You know Skinny Dave?”

Jeff nodded.

The guard turned and called
another one over.  Jeff guessed he was a supervisor.

He never heard the man slip up
behind him, but he felt the rifle butt to his kidney.  Jeff fell to his knees
in a whoosh, his breath gone and pain surging up his spine.  Another guard
sauntered over, a bit taller than the rest.  He wore a bright blue bandanna on
his left bicep.

“Is this the guy?” Blue Bandanna
said.

The original guard nodded his
head. 

“Get him out of here.  Put him to
work on the line,” Blue Bandanna said.

Hands grabbed Jeff and hauled him
to his feet.  They locked tight and held him firm as they shuffled him off to
the right, towards a tall building.  Jeff turned and yelled back.

“Skinny Dave took my child!”

Blue Bandanna snapped his fingers
and the guards escorting Jeff stopped.

“What’s this about a baby?” Blue
Bandanna said.  He had a hawk’s beak for a nose and small, shiny black eyes.  He
was hairy, with woolly-worms for eyebrows and thick hair lining his chin and
riding his upper lip.  The man was well-built, a body toned in a gym somewhere,
and he carried it professionally, showing it off just enough to remind people
who was boss.

“Skinny Dave stole my baby,” Jeff
said.  “He said it was a way to get back in Mr. Parker’s good graces.”

Blue Bandanna laughed and the
other guards joined him.  “Is that what he told you?”

Jeff nodded.  “He said he kissed
Parker’s daughter and that got him into trouble, so he had to make amends.” 

Blue Bandanna raised his mammoth
eyebrows.  “’Make amends,’” he laughed.  “Looks like we got us a smart one
here, boys.  A real genius with words.”    

  They all laughed.  One twisted
Jeff’s arm, hard, and made him grunt in pain.

“Please,” Jeff said.  “I just came
to get my child.  That’s all.”
“How did you get in here?” Blue Bandanna said.  He stopped laughing and glared
at Jeff.

“I followed Skinny Dave.”
Blue Bandanna tucked his hands behind his back and paced back and forth. 
“That stupid shit,” he said.  “Fucking Skinny Dave.  Fucking asshole.”
He walked four steps right and then four steps left, muttering to himself. 
After a few moments, he smiled and stuck his face into Jeff’s.

“Alright,” he said.  ‘You get your
wish.  Boys, take him to meet Mr. Parker.”

8

They hustled him through the
middle of town, south and west towards the Steel Bridge, their grip firm and
their pace steady.  People moved out of their way, shirking  with fear.  Most
dropped their heads and stared at the ground when the guards ran by but an
occasional person would watch them, curious, and then go back about their
business.

They passed through four tiny
suburbs.  Burnt-out businesses dotted street corners and a few buildings that
looked like government offices with their ornate entries marked the occasional
block passed.  At one point, they jogged past a longer building that was
missing its doors and windows.  Jeff got a quick glance inside and saw it was
fitted like a factory, with a dozen assembly-lines with people, handcuffed to
their machines, working relentlessly, guards on constant patrol.  Jeff wondered
if this was the line Blue Bandanna had been referring to. 

Half a mile later, they approached
the U.S. Bank Building.  It was tall and remarkably untouched by all the grime
around it, the rust-colored exterior still practically glowing, even in the
darkness.  A dozen guards stood at the front, manning the one entrance.  Blue
Bandanna crossed and spoke to a guard with a white bandanna tied around his
left bicep.  White Bandanna nodded and three of his men grabbed Jeff and
searched him, finding the hammer.  White Bandanna, a small man with unassuming
looks and a constant smirk, smiled and shook his head as he held the hammer in
front of Jeff’s face.  He snapped his fingers and a guard punched Jeff in the
stomach. 

The carried him inside the
building, Blue Bandanna accompanying them.

The lobby was huge, with a
reception desk that guarded a set of elevators behind it.  On the right were
where the tellers used to work, back when the world needed banks, but it was
all empty now, the rope-dividers once used to coil waiting lines all pushed
back against one wall, dusty with disuse.  Lights along the walls burned bright
and intense, filling the empty, dark corners.  The building had electricity. 
Jeff marveled at it a moment as they pushed him to the elevators.  They rode up
four floors and got out when the doors opened.

Two hallways stretched to their
right and left.  The guards, two on each side, with White Bandanna leading and
Blue Bandanna taking up the rear, escorted him down the right hall.  They
passed two meeting rooms, doors closed and lights off, and a break room where
half a dozen guards milled around, joking and drinking coffee.  The corridor
took a sharp left at the end and led down a long hallway that ended in set of
closed doors with two guards standing outside them, both wearing pink bandannas
on their left biceps.  They snapped to attention when Jeff’s entourage appeared
around the corner, drawing their sidearms.  White Bandanna saluted them and
they lowered their weapons as he approached, Jeff and the others stopped in the
middle of the hallway.  The three of them spoke a moment and one of the pink
bandannas opened the doors and White Bandanna disappeared inside.

They waited ten minutes before he
reappeared.  He snapped his fingers and Jeff’s group moved forward, pushing him
just ahead them.  He turned and studied them for a brief moment, noticing their
own sidearms, wondering if he could get to one of the guns before they had a
chance to fire.   He didn’t think so, but it was worth further thought.

The door opened and what greeted
his eyes was something he thought he’d never see again.  It was an apartment
and looked like something straight out of a rich person’s mansion.  There was a
foyer with two expensive couches and a short hallway that led into the living
room.  Plush, rich carpet greeted his feet and a giant-screen TV, a mini-bar in
one corner and a fireplace in another winked at his eyes.  There were a couple
of expensive couches and a recliner, also, and the walls were covered with fine
art.  The back wall was a series of sliding glass doors hidden behind a long
run of vertical, slatted shades, all shut.  A giant kitchen was to their left,
behind them and across from the living room, and a dark hallway ran from there
to where Jeff presumed was the family’s bedroom.

The family in question was sitting
in front of the TV, watching a movie.  They were a family of three; a
man—Parker, Jeff figured—sitting on a couch next to a woman holding a fussing
and crying baby in her arms.

Jenny.

Jeff struggled against his guards,
ready to make his move right there.  He would have, too, if Parker had not
stood up, his impressive frame filling the living room with its solid width and
height.  He was a hard man, with stone-gray eyes set inside a face chiseled
from granite.  He was like a statue come to life, with muscles that rippled
under his loose clothing and a stunted, halting walk.  Parker towered over Jeff
and the other men and, as he approached the prisoner, he barked out past the
guards and into the dark hallway.

“Dave!  Get in here!” Parker said.

Behind him, Jeff heard a
commotion, a few curses, and then the sound of bare feet padding across kitchen
tile.  When he stepped around the guards, Dave saw Jeff and he groaned.

“Oh, no,” Dave said.

Jeff gritted his teeth and sneered
at Dave.  “You son of a bitch,” he said.

Parker struck Jeff so quickly he
didn’t even know it happened until the blood dripped from his busted lip. 

“Watch your language in my house,”
Parker said.  He turned to Dave.  “This guy here says he followed you into the
city.” 
Jeff stared up, dazed from the blow.  He’d never been hit that hard, ever. 

“I’m sorry,” Dave said, casting
his eyes to the floor.  “I knew he was following us, but I thought Tony took
care of him.”
“Tony?  Where is he?” Parker said.  Dave shrugged and pointed at Jeff.  Parker
turned back to him and grimaced.  “Where’s Tony?”
Jeff smiled.  He didn’t say a word other than his grin.  Parker studied him
for a moment, hot anger flashing in his eyes.  Just when Jeff expected to get
slapped again, Parker turned and walked away, holding his hands behind his
back.

“I see,” he said.  He paced for a
moment, considering what he was going to say before finally speaking. 

“I built this city.  Did you know
that?” Parker said.  “What’s your name?”

Jeff kept quiet.

“It’s Jeff,” Dave said.  “At
least, that’s what he told me.”

“Okay.  So, Jeff, did you know I
built this city?” Parker said.

Jeff stared past him to Jenny,
being held by the woman he assumed was Parker’s wife.  She was small and
slight, with brunette hair going gray.  She was probably in her late thirties
and the way she kept avoiding his stare gave away her guilt.

“Oh, I didn’t lay the
foundations,” Parker said, going on with his story. “But I saved it.  Me and my
men, we were stationed outside of here when the apocalypse happened.  The first
thing we did was secure our area and then we came here and secured Portland. 
It took a lot of work, but we got the walls up and the people in line and ever
since then, this place has been protected and safe.”  Parker stepped into
Jeff’s line of sight, blocking his view of Jenny.  “Do you know how many
American cities can say that, Jeff?  Do you?”

Jeff stared at him.

“Zero, Jeff.  Zero.  We’re the
only city that has been able to sustain its life.  We have a garden we planted
on the east side, farmed by our citizens and protected by our guards.  We have
work programs to assure that everyone has something to contribute.  We have a
system of justice to keep the unruly in line.  And we have people like Dave and
Tony, personal friends of mine, who we send out to scavenge what we can from the
outside world.  What do you think of my system here, Jeff?  It’s genius, isn’t
it?”
Jeff stayed quiet.  Parker laughed, the chuckle pure ice.

“Dave, he works hard and usually
comes back with good stuff.  And when he does, he gets a reward.  For instance,
for bringing back what he did today, he made my wife very happy.  So he gets
two free nights in our whorehouse.  That’s a big deal, isn’t it, Dave?” Parker
said.  Dave stared at the floor.  “Women are in demand anymore, Jeff,
especially beautiful women.  So we keep them locked up and well-fed and
looked-after.”
Jeff broke his silence.  “He took my child.  I want her back.”
“What child is that, Jeff?” Parker said.

“The one your wife is holding.”
“That child?” Parker pointed at Jenny.  “Oh, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. 
She’s my daughter.  She’s our daughter, isn’t she, Ellen?”
Ellen, the woman holding Jenny, looked up and smiled.  “She’s beautiful. 
She’s just what I wanted,” she said, her voice quivering.

Parker popped Jeff in the chest
with an extended finger.  “Our child.  You understand that, Jeff?  She’s our
baby, not yours, not anybody else’s.”

“She’s mine,” Jeff said.

Parker laughed and stepped back, a
grin slashing his face.  “You never did answer my question, Jeff.  What do you
think of my beautiful city here?  Look around!  We’ve got electricity!  Sure,
it won't run all day, but it gives us enough to cook a nice meal and watch a
movie on the TV.  Enough to spend some quality family time together.  God bless
solar power.”
“This whole place is rotten,” Jeff said.  “You force people into slavery and
kill them if they don’t go along.”
Parker’s gray eyes glittered.  “That’s where you’re wrong.  I give people what
they want, which is stability and protection.  People will give up every notion
of freedom and dignity to be kept safe from what’s waiting for them out there. 
You look like a smart kid.  You should know that.”
“Not everyone is a coward,” Jeff said.

Parker struck Jeff’s face again. 
His eyes blurred and stars exploded in his sight. 

“Those are my people you’re
talking about,” Parker said.  “So, since you’re answering questions now, why
don’t you tell me what happened to Tony?”
“Why don’t you go fuck yourself,” Jeff said, surprised by his own defiance. 
The words slipped out, as if they had a mind of their own.

Parker did not rise to it. He
sighed and shook his head slowly, looking at Dave.

“Sorry, Dave, but since he
followed you in, you lose your whorehouse privileges,” Parker said.  “And since
he obviously killed Tony, you lose your leave this week, as well.”
“No!” Dave said.  He stuck his hands out, pleading.  “I need a few days off!”

Parker snapped his fingers and
Dave’s head dropped.  “You’re lucky I don’t take away your keys, boy.”

“Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir,” Dave
said, defeated.

Parker turned back to Jeff.  “And
as for you,” he said.

“I want Jenny back,” Jeff said. 
“Give me my child back and I’ll leave here and leave you alone.”
Parker smiled again and Jeff could feel the arctic winds coming from his
parted lips.

“I’ve seen punks like you,” Parker
said.  “Smart college boys that think they’re better than everybody else.  A
lot of folks like you died in the apocalypse, didn’t they?  People who thought
they were smart and above it all and ended up getting munched on.  But you survived,
didn’t you?  And that makes you think you’re tough, doesn’t it?  It makes you
feel like you’re a regular John Wayne, that you can swagger in any place you
want and do and say what you want and you’ll walk out, just fine.  Well, let me
tell you something, tough guy.  Not in my town.  You don’t have a clue what
tough is, you little bitch.  Tough is keeping a squad of men together and
cleaning a city out.  Tough is saving people’s lives and giving them a
purpose.  Tough is keeping and holding it all together, despite little weasels
like you.”

“I’m impressed,” Jeff said.  “You
bully people around and they accept it.  Well, I don’t give a shit.  I don’t
care about you or your city or your wife. I care about my child.  And I’m
giving you one last chance to hand her over and let us leave.”
Parker punched Jeff’s stomach as the guards held him tight.  Jeff bent over
and nearly passed out again.  Parker slapped his face and chuckled.  He raised
Jeff's chin so they were eye to eye.

“You get the wall, you little
fuck,” Parker said.

Jeff grinned, blood filling his
mouth. “Watch the language.”  

Parker matched Jeff’s smile. “You
know what the wall is, boy?”  

Jeff nodded.

“Good,” Parker said.  He snapped
his fingers and turned to Dave.  “Take him down to the wall.  String him up
good.” 

Jeff laughed.  “I’m coming back
for you,” he said.  “I’m going to come back and I’m going to fucking kill you.”

The guards hauled Jeff from the
room as Dave followed them.  Behind him, Jenny cried out, “Da, da!”  The words
were a twist in Jeff’s guts. 

“I'll be back, little girl,” Jeff
said.  Tears filled his eyes as they pulled him down the hallway and out the
front doors.

From inside, he heard Jenny scream
followed by a loud slap.  Ellen said, “Hush up, brat!”  And then the doors
closed and he was in the hallway being shuffled to the elevators.

Rage surged through every fiber of
his being.  Jeff bristled as the hands of the guards shoved him forward, Dave
in his ear, cursing his every step.

“You stupid dick,” Dave said. 
“You cost me my whores, man!  You fucking asshole.”

The guards, one on each side as
Blue and White Bandanna led the way, held him firm by his elbows, and every
time he thought about making a break for it, they seemed to sense him tensing
up and dug their thumbs into a spot just below his triceps.  It must have been
a move they were taught, because where they squeezed was a sensitive pressure
point, and every time they gripped him there, he winced in agony, unable to
think of anything else but going along with them.

They reached the elevators and
waited for the doors to open, Dave constantly in Jeff’s face, bemoaning his
punishment and lack of whores.

“I go out there nearly every
fucking day and risk my life and all I want is a piece of ass every now and
then.  Is that too much to ask?  And then you come along with your stupid
little baby and I get in trouble.  Fuck you, asshole.  You know what?  You know
what’s going to happen to you?  You know what the wall is, don’t you?  They
feed you  to the fucking rotbags out there.  That’s what they do.  They dangle
you above them and let them chew on you a while and then they bring you up and
chop your legs off and drop you back down again and keep doing it until you
die.  And when you do, and you turn, they haul you back up, chop off your arms,
and drop you over the side again, so you can dangle there.  You know what Mr.
Parker calls those zombie trunks left to hang and bob in the wind?  Do you?  He
calls them ‘Art.’  Isn’t that funny?  Art!”  Dave spit out a bitter laugh and
punched Jeff just as the doors to the elevator opened.