Pain Read online

  “Oh? How’s that?”

  “This rehab will straighten you out. Oh, believe me, there have been studies done. The program works. Ten prayer groups a day, lots of exercise, and some righteous men and women to show you how God wants you to behave.” Her voice rose an octave. “And there will be no more of that sick music about hoes and booty and bling bling, either.”Timothy sighed. “Please, honey. Don’t blow a gasket. Calm down.”

  “You calm down. I am calm here. See? I am perfectly calm.” She stuck out her arms. The car wobbled. “See? My hands are not shaking like yours, you wimp.” Champ laughed. “Then better put them back on the wheel before we all meet the Lord prematurely, Theresa.”

  “Unbelievable. And after thousands of dollars and over a year in my house I haven’t even earned the right to be called ‘Mom’?”

  “Sorry about that. Theresa.”

  Slamming on the brakes, screeching to a halt. Theresa unbuckled her belt, turned in the driver’s seat, tried frantically to slap her foster daughter. Timothy wanted to intervene. Instead, he watched his hands shake. Then he looked up. Timothy grabbed Theresa by the arm.

  “Honey. Stop. Look.”

  Something in his voice. Theresa turned and focused in on the road ahead. In the mist, in those off-kilter headlights, a large man in tattered clothing. He had a long beard, wild eyes and a filthy face. The man held his right thumb out as if looking for a ride. Timothy said, “Drive on. Let’s go.”

  “My,” Champ mumbled, “how very Christian of you.”

  As if unable to resist the dare, Theresa said, “Timothy, lower your window.” She edged the car forward slowly, leaves and needles crunched in the dark beneath the rolling wheels. They pulled close to the strange man. Timothy said, “Good evening. What are you doing way up here, sir?”

  Then the man stepped up, bent over at the waist. He came closer to the half-open window and soon his rank body odor filled the car like a fine mist. His breath was terrible and two of his brown teeth were missing. He growled when he spoke. He had the attitude of one imparting a truth of senatorial importance.

  “I have me the shittiest luck in the world.”

  Theresa, Timothy and Champ exchanged looks. Theresa stared for a long moment. The idea of this giant, stinky monstrosity joining them for the ride down the mountain was unthinkable. Screw compassion.

  Theresa hit the gas. They left him standing there, by the road, alone in the dark. Perhaps proving him right.

  9:16 PM

  Up in the woods, the three surviving mercenary soldiers crouched in the gloom, panting, sweating in the chill. A coyote howled to the east. Cap Rogers took a sip from his canteen, offered some to Reid and Bowden. Reid, a Texan with a blond buzz cut, didn’t even open his eyes. He’d lost a lot of blood. Bowden seemed in better shape, though he still cradled a wounded shoulder. Cap knew they were confused, their eyes were wide from adrenaline. He hadn’t told Reid much, but Bowden knew the score. They were in deep, maybe over their heads this time. There was a lot at stake. Bowden sipped from the canteen, handed it back. His intelligent eyes conveyed a lot. This was one fine mess.

  The coyote fell silent. A strange rustling, moaning sound came from their left. Cap shook his head, amazed. “Shit. Shit. There they go, they’re waking up again.”

  Bowden grimaced. “All at the same time?”

  “Maybe. No shooting, wait for my command. Stay ready.”

  Cap heard a faint click in his headset. “Major?”

  Leanne’s voice said, “Head’s up, Cap. On the move.”

  Cap heard a strange man’s voice behind her. “Who?”

  “From the look of it,” Leanne said briskly, “half of North America. Watch your ass, Cap. Out.”

  Bowden was staring intently. Cap tapped his earpiece, waved an arm at the eerie night sky. They’re all around us. Just then Reid sighed and slipped into unconsciousness. Bowden and Cap exchanged glances. Now what? Something crashed through the brush. Twenty, maybe thirty yards off. Cap and Bowden slid flat, weapons ready. More movement, noise on the other side. Shapes, now and then a scream.

  Once again, the woods were full of monsters.

  ««—»»

  Assholes drive off and leave a man… Riggs paced in the darkness, slapping his arms to stay warm. Every few moments he returned to the bushes for another slug from his jug of rotgut wine. Said jug was nearly empty. The air was freezing. He was tired of waiting. What kind of family would just drive away, do a man like that on a cold night? Once again, Riggs wondered where Fred was, what was keeping him, guy had a regular run and came by this stretch every week, same night, never more than an hour or two late. Straight through from Denver, no sleep, pissed in a bucket to avoid having to stop.

  Not a car on the road but one, and they blow me off.Where the fuck is Fred? I got me about the shittiest luck in the world…

  At last. Headlights. High off the ground. Riggs stepped out into the road and waved his big arms. The oncoming big rig’s horn responded three times, echoing through the night. Fred, at long last. Riggs stepped back off the road as the brakes began to squeal. The rig shivered, shook its hips like a stripper and finally rolled to a hold. Banged up and gang tagged, fenders dented. The cheerful “How Am I Driving?” sticker had the phone number scratched off. The door opened.

  Rock music blared. Heavy metal, of course. Riggs peered into the cab. It was jammed with junk food cartons, squashed coffee cups, empty packs of nicotine gum. Fred Ellis hopped up and down behind the wheel, his baseball cap on backwards, nostrils white with some concoction he snorted to keep him going.

  “Damn. Howdy. Shitfire, get your ass in here you want a ride Riggs. Ain’t got all night man, you know that. Got to be in town before tomorrow comes no matter what, up at the warehouse by midnight, for sure. That’s what the boss said yesterday morning when I called from Sacramento anyway. That son of a bitch, got me driving all night again, bro.”

  Riggs slid into the passenger seat, clutching his wine jug. He stared as if pitying his wired, skinny friend. Fred’s eyes were cartoon-wide, his thin body twitching in jeans and a work shirt well beyond patching. His greasy hair was parted down the middle for no particular reason. Fred stopped babbling. He finally realized Riggs hadn’t responded.

  “What?”

  Riggs shook his head, took a slug of wine, offered some to Fred, who refused.

  Without a trace of irony, Fred said, “That shit will kill you.”

  Fred gunned the giant engine and kicked his baby into gear. They rolled forward slowly, then faster and faster under the impassive moon. Soon it was Fred the speed freak and Riggs the homeless dude, roaring down the highway.

  The music played, Riggs farted, and waves of Olympic Class B.O. filled the cab. Soon they were both head-bobbing like crazy. Fred cranked the iPod hooked to his speakers. “Listen to that shit. Fucking genius man fucking genius they were so much better with Moody on lead, because that new guitar player sucks the big hairy root, know what I mean? Whoa. Flat out lucky to have himself a fucking job.”

  Fred leaned on the horn a few times for no particular reason. One terrified deer arced over a pile of brush and raced away, white tail flickering in the headlights. Fred watched her go, almost lost control of the rig, but yanked the wheel back again. He glanced over at Riggs, wondering if he’d ever get a response.

  “Damn it, say something.”

  Riggs considered for a moment. His bloodshot brown eyes closed and reopened. Then he appeared to have some kind of spiritual epiphany. By God, he was going to speak! “Know something? I got me about the shittiest luck in the world.”

  “You always say that.” Fred dug a finger into his shirt pocket, licked some white powder. His entire body seemed to be vibrating along with the giant engine. “But am I right about that band, or am I right? Yes! Because that’s absolutely right, bro. For sure. And see, it’s all ‘cause Moody beats the crap out of that rank amateur. The new guy just sucks and swallows, no two ways about it.”

  Fre
d lowered the music. They rode in relative silence for a few miles. Fred switched to sweets, popped several chocolate candies into his mouth, chewed contentedly, one cheek swollen. Said something unintelligible. Then Fred decided to be polite. He turned towards Riggs, held out the nearly empty box and then dropped it.

  “Hey!”

  Riggs had gone stiff, legs and arms extended, those bleary eyes now wide open and bulging. At that moment he began to froth at the mouth. Even over the raging sound of the engine, Fred heard his friend groaning. His long back arched and his filthy feet pounded the floor boards as if ordered to run away. Riggs was clearly having some kind of seizure. The tires squealed and wailed as Fred nearly lost control of the truck. “Riggs? Bro?”

  Riggs relaxed a bit, stiffened again and grunted. Fred’s mind hit the wall searching for a viable program. He slammed on the gas, going as fast as he dared with a load on these mountain curves. “Buddy, we’re nearly at the ER. Hang in there!”

  Headlights split the darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, Fred thought he saw a couple of armed men in uniform skulking down the slope by the highway what the fuck military exercises? But they were past them in a second, down the straightaway towards Doc’s place. Fred felt his stomach sink. There were vehicles there, but the EMERGENCY ER sign was off. Were they closed?

  He entered the parking lot braking and leaning on the horn. Dust and gravel sprayed everywhere. Fred kept the headlights on. Doc appeared in the doorway, calling over his shoulder. Fred got out, slammed the door, raced around to the passenger side. He opened the door and Riggs started to tumble out. Doc and Fred caught him, eased him down to the asphalt. Fred looked up to see Billy Ray and Callie coming out of the ER. Callie was red-faced and seemed embarrassed. Billy Ray was busy tucking in his shirttail. Doc seemed pissed, but went to work on Fred right away. He snapped at his wife and their employee.

  “Bring a gurney, kids. Now.”

  They rolled the huge homeless man Riggs through the front door, down the narrow, wood-paneled hall and into the back of the homespun ER. Doc counted to three and they placed him on an empty bed. The big man lay flat on his back, comatose and for the first time, Fred noticed, surrounded by packed boxes. Billy Ray pinched his nose. Serious stink.“Jesus, can’t we turn the hose on you two first?”

  “Fuck you, Princess. Hey Doc, you going somewhere all packed up and shit and what’s going on and what’s wrong with my man Riggs? Will he be okay? You gotta help him, man.” “Have to tell you, Fred, we’re nearly closed up, some kind of Homeland Security evacuation drill going on. All I can do for your friend is have a quick look-see.”“Howdy. Damn. Whatever you can do Doc, just like whatever you can do, okay? Like whatever you can do and shit.”

  Doc checked vital signs. Callie ran an IV line as Billy Ray inserted the needle.

  Doc said, “Tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t know what the hell happened, Doc. I give old Riggs here a ride down the hill every Friday on my way through town, and we was going along listening to some music and he was drinking a bit but no more than usual and then he went bananas all of a sudden, started foaming like a rabid dog and shit and then he passed out so I brought him here it was some really weird and scary stuff tell you what poor guy always said he has the worst luck the world. Shit, he ain’t moving. He dead?”

  Billy Ray and Doc exchanged glances. “Not yet. Fred, tell you what. Let’s let Billy Ray here work on your friend for a while. Meantime maybe I should give you something, bring you down a tad. You seem a bit wired.”

  Fred glared. Saucer eyed, twitching.

  “Wired? Ha! What the hell you mean wired?”

  9:21 PM

  Reid stared down at a sweating bottle of beer. The bartender poured it into the iced mug. Reid raised it and turned. The band was played some George Jones. He looked down past his booted feet to see sawdust on the hardwood floor. Still holding that mug of ice cold draught beer, an unfiltered cigarette between his lips, the soldier looked across the crowded room and there she was, the little redheaded waitress named Penny. He swallowed his nervousness and decided tonight was the night. He was going to make his approach.

  Penny was fending off a cowboy in jeans, a red and white checked shirt and a horseshoe bolo. Reid decided to cut through the dance floor to get there in time. He figured he had to display some Nevada machismo. Just then Penny turned and saw him. She smiled, then focused a bit more. Suddenly her pretty face contorted and Penny began to scream. It was a terrible scream, high-pitched and horrified, and then something made a crunching sound. Reid realized the cowboy, whose face had turned skeletal and savage, had begun to gnaw at her fingers. The crowd parted. Blood was spraying everywhere, Penny kept screaming. Reid let go of the beer and tried to run but everything was in slow motion now, and the girl was suddenly so far, far away.

  Reid woke up. Shit, shit, shit…

  The screaming was coming from uphill, to his right. He snapped back into consciousness. His wounds hurt. His throat felt dry. “Cap? Bowden? We got to get the hell out of here.” As he said it, Reid rolled over, looked around the small dent in the forest floor. The others were gone.

  He was alone.

  The screaming stopped. He slid his butt along the grass until his body was semi-hidden, backed against the rocks. A few yards away, the brush parted. Three of the creatures appeared and fanned out like predators. They left me for dead, he thought grimly. At least I hope the bastards thought I was dead. Reid was well trained and didn’t panic. He aimed and shot the first of the infected, whose head vanished in a spray of mist as the hollow point shattered bone. Reid aimed, fired a second time. His Glock clicked empty. One in the chamber, he thought. Reid had an insane urge to giggle. One in the chamber because they took my clip. You bastards…

  Reid clutched a grenade in one hand and his knife in the other. One of the creatures snarled, as if dimly registering that Reid was now out of ammunition. The two monsters exchanged glances. Reid pulled the pin, held the grenade tight to his stomach. He waved the knife.

  “Come on then, come and get some!”

  Others appeared. Patiently, carefully, they circled him. There were six of them. In that strange way of theirs, they all stopped moving and closed their eyes. Reid thought he’d gotten lucky. He hadn’t. Seconds later, they attacked as one. Reid went down under thrusting, ripping, snarling things. He shrieked in agony as the first group tore him limb from limb. He waited as long as he could, until the rest were close.

  A grenade blew them all apart in a ball of fire…and the night went dark again.

  9:35 PM

  Up in the command tent, the man called Burkhalter and Major Leanne Davidson stared at some heat signatures on the monitor. Reddish brown dots moving rapidly in and out of groups, lives winking out like Christmas tree lights. Burkhalter leaned over her shoulder. She slid her chair away from the console, forcing him back, her nose wrinkled. The man’s cologne, like his personality, reeked of expensive pretension.

  “Jesus,” Burkhalter said, “are all of those…?”

  “The bad guys.” Leanne leaned closer to the screen. “Uh oh.”

  “What?”

  “It’s show time.” Leanne stuck a pencil in her mouth for something to chew on. She typed furiously, efficiently prepared complex instructions. “Wait. What’s happening, Major? Fill me in.”

  Leanne tapped the glass with a finger. “Our two are moving towards the LZ, probably can’t risk radio contact.” She tapped her fingers again, showing a group in pursuit. “There. See? Bogies on their tail.”

  “I thought there were three.”

  “The other one is still back there, where they checked in last time.”

  “He moved, right. So he’s still alive?”

  “Not any more.” Leanne sighed. “Rogers wouldn’t have left a man behind if it wasn’t pretty much a done deal, no matter what the cargo.”

  “Stupid bastard,” Burkhalter muttered.

  Strange statement and underneath something even
odder about the way he’d said that. Leanne flashed him a look. This situation was growing weirder by the minute. She considered air support but pictured splintering trees showering innocent civilians. She’d try one drone, look for a shot to buy the guy time. No other ground units close enough. These three have to make the LZ or die. She typed some more.

  Burkhalter watched. He came to a decision of some kind. “Guy didn’t stand a chance out there alone, did he?”

  “Nope.” Leanne shoved her chair back. “We’re all set. Let’s save our guys. Ready to rock and roll.”

  Burkhalter grimaced. He grabbed her arm. “Wait one.”

  “We haven’t got time, sir.”

  “No air support.”

  “What? Not even a drone? And just why the hell not?”“Need to know. If you’re looking for something to do, Major, have security check the perimeter again.”

  “Let me just replay that last scene for you.” The two of them watched again as a horde of creatures swarmed the isolated soldier and the spot silently erupted in a ball of suicidal fire. “Now you’re just going to leave the last two to their fate?”

  “I give orders. You take them.”

  Leanne rolled her chair back. She got to her feet, swept her hair back. Shot him a look that could peel paint off a Hummer. “Mr. Burkhalter, don’t patronize me. Men are dying up there. Every fucking highway, dirt road and fire trail in and out of that area has already been evacuated and locked down tighter than a gnat’s ass. Our standing orders are shoot to kill. We’re not in Kansas anymore. Now, am I supposed to play dumb blonde all night, or do you plan on telling me what’s really going on?”

  Burkhalter pondered a moment before responding. “Okay. There’s a highly contagious disease at work. We went in to try to rescue any survivors that were not infected. Things went south.”

  “Yeah, no shit they did. What’s the rest?” “No offense, Colonel, but like I said, you don’t need to know. Just follow orders.”Jesus this man was insufferable. “Permission to speak freely?”“Why stop now?“A platoon went into that town three hours ago. All but two of them are dead. An entire mountain town has gone batshit. How long do you figure you can keep this a secret?”