The Walking Plague Trilogy Page 18

  “I had just mentioned the idea about water,” Anna put in.

  Carla nodded, recalling her input. She looked at Joe and Mike. “Do you two think he remembers that conversation?”

  Mike thought a moment. “I’m not sure, really. He was pretty far gone, but for myself, I do remember some things about that stage.”

  “I do, too, but there’s no way to tell for sure. If we ask him, he might lie,” Joe reasoned.

  “We have to decide two things,” Carla said. “One, do we tell him? And two, how are we going to do this?”

  * * *

  In the end, and with great protest from Anna, which Carla and then her uncle overruled, they decided not to inform Jack of their plan.

  Knowledge is power, after all. Jack was in a state of hyper-awareness and considered himself invincible. Both Joe’s and Mike’s experiences were that they had no intention of going back to “normal.” When Jack realized what was about to happen to him, he would become violent, if not deadly. The instinct for self-preservation was undeniable, in humans and zombies.

  They had no way of knowing that Jack did remember, and that he was already planning a counter-attack whenever they came for him.

  Carla, exhausted as she was, realized she was the only legal person of the three adults to go out in public. They had decided to buy two large buckets for water, the kind that held about twenty gallons of water. If Jack fought his way out of one, they would have a backup ready. While she was at the hardware store, she decided to pick up three pairs of the thickest gloves they had. She had no idea if the guys could be re-infected, but she had seen enough of this crap to not take any chances. She certainly didn’t want to go through this infection herself.

  Driving back to the Los Feliz home, she turned on the radio. Not the police radio. She thought a little music would help but when she heard “Sympathy for the Devil,” she snapped it off.

  Can’t catch a break, she thought.

  She thought grimly that the Stones couldn’t have possibly had this scenario in mind, but it was ironic nonetheless.

  Just hang on, girl, she told herself as she pulled into the driveway. Just a little longer and this will all be over.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong about anything in her entire life.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I was Jack Carter, park ranger, lover of wildlife, great father and friend to my community, but I sat chained in my own cellar and tried to think of a plan. I had time, but just a couple of hours, at the most.

  I looked around. They’d learned to clear everything out of the way. No more bobby pins...not so much as a piece of string within reach.

  They’re coming, I thought. Soon.

  Joe had come down eventually to give me some water. No food. I realized they didn’t need to think that far in advance. They would “cure” me, and I was far from happy with the method. Sure, I would fight them. Even hand-cuffed to the strongest beam supporting the house, I would lure them in with smiles and cooperative conversation, but I would fight for my new life. I felt powerful and I liked it.

  I was so hungry. Steak would have been okay, but I was now lusting for more. I craved human flesh. More specifically, brains. I couldn’t deny it any longer. It didn’t even seem odd. I could barely wait for freedom. Human flesh, brains, that’s it. Nothing else would do for me now. I would stay away from my family when I escaped, I promised myself—and escape, I would—but my desire to feed now encompassed me.

  What about Anna? I was sad about Anna. But dammit, she’s got her boyfriend now, I reminded myself. She doesn’t need me. And that hussy, Carla, will take care of Anna. If I don’t take care of Carla first...No! I tried to hold on to reason. This isn’t right. A part of my mind tried to hang on to sanity. You have to take care of your daughter, I told myself. That’s what you’re living for. And Carla’s nice...but she’s with them. My brother and that son-of-a-bitch traitor, Mike Mendoza.

  I searched the premises again. The light was off, but that didn’t matter. I had the eyes of a hawk now, an eagle. A cougar was more like it. I thought back to when Anna and I had saved that cougar. Was that about a week ago? Ten days? I didn’t remember. Part of me longed for that special father-daughter connection again. She loved wildlife as much as I did. As much as I had, before. Before what?

  Get a hold, I told myself. You’re not going over fond memories; you’re finding a way out. There’s got to be something to help me get the fuck out of here...I don’t want to drown...and I don’t want to give up who I am now.

  So powerful...so very powerful.

  I moved around with my hand chained to the beam, feeling with my feet along the cold cement for anything. A coin. A screwdriver would have been nice, but no luck. Not even piece of broken glass.

  I searched slowly, thoroughly. Finishing the 360-degree circle, I finally pulled myself up and leaned against the house’s main beam to which I was chained. For what I’d just done, stretching and moving around on the ground as far as I could reach, carefully, over the last fifteen minutes, I should have been sweating profusely. But I wasn’t. I just drew my one free hand through my hair. Something caught one of my fingers, and I moved this hand past it...then back to it. Something metal.

  I carefully maneuvered myself around to see the object.

  Bingo! I smiled. I risked a laugh. Well, what do you know, I thought to myself.

  An old, rusty nail protruded slightly from the beam. Not so much that you could really see it from a distance. And who had come close enough to that beam? It was the surrounding area they were concerned with.

  The nail looked long; it had a large head. Such a small thing, I realized, such a sharp nail could make all the difference in the world. I could easily conceal it when they came. And come for me they would, I knew it in my core. But now, I had a weapon.

  I wrapped my teeth around the nail in the beam, and pulled. Hard.

  And soon I held my freedom in the palm of my hand.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Promise me again,” Joe Carter said to his niece.

  “I promise, okay? I won’t leave my room until you come get me.” Anna blew her nose again. She was horrified, frightened, out of her mind with fear.

  Joe hugged her. “It’s going to be okay, honey. That’s my promise to you.” He held her a moment. Then he crossed to the door. There was nothing else to say.

  Downstairs, the three of them were ready. As ready as they could be. None of them spoke. Again, there was nothing left to say. The feeling was unanimous: just do it, get it done.

  Carla went first. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. This was insane. Was she crazy? She didn’t know for sure, but she made herself do it anyway. Tried not to think in human terms as she descended the old staircase.

  “Back away, Jack,” her hands were shaky. She couldn’t help the tears. “Back up.”

  “What’s going on?” Jack asked innocently enough.

  Mike and Joe carried the first large bucket of water down and set it out of Jack’s reach.

  “What the hell’s happening?” Just for a moment, Jack feigned ignorance. But the two men wouldn’t meet his gaze. His own damn brother. A murderous asshole.

  As they hurried up the stairs again, Jack tried to work on Carla. “Carla, no. Please. You can’t be serious.”

  Carla didn’t speak either. Fuck. This was going to be harder than he thought. Joe and Mike confirmed this by bringing down the second container of water. That’s when Jack lost it.

  “I won’t let you,” he said, backing as far away as he could, his hands curled into fists.

  “Yes, you will,” Joe said. “And it will be all right. Mike went through it, so did I. And so can you.”

  “I’m going to fucking kill you, all of you,” Jack growled. “Carla, I trusted you. And you’re going to let them kill me? You fucking bitch!” he spat the words at her.

  Carla let out a sob. “Shut up, Jack.” She reached behind her and pulled out another pair of handcuffs
. Handed them to Mike. “Just do it.”

  “No!” Jack pleaded. “Think of what you’re doing. Joe, think. This is crazy! Where’s Anna? You can’t do this to her!”

  He watched as Joe and Mike checked out the other beam. Joe pulled a piece of heavy chain from somewhere and tethered it to the beam. Now Jack backed the other way, coming dangerously close to Carla.

  “I’m not going down without a fight. You don’t know how strong I am!”

  Jack curled his hands tight.

  Chapter Nineteen

  But they did know.

  Both men fully understood what they were dealing with.

  Who, Joe corrected himself. He’s still my brother.

  “Take off your shoes.” Mike was the least emotionally involved, so he was calling the shots.

  “No,” said Jack.

  The three formed a triangle around him now. “Do it,” Mike commanded. “Don’t make this any harder than you have to.”

  Somewhere in Jack’s mind, a little sanity remained, but that part was now in fight-or-flight mode. What was left of his humanity panicked. He pulled mightily on his one cuffed hand. “You can’t do this. Please,” he begged them.

  “Jack.” Joe held back tears. “You’ve got to know that I love you. I know you’re scared. And angry. But try to think.”

  “Stop it,” Carla ordered. “We agreed. No unnecessary talking. Jack, take off your fucking shoes.” Her hands were still shaking, but she pointed her gun at his shoulder.

  “Fuck it,” Mike said. “Plan B then.”

  They had planned as much as they could. Plan A was created in the hopes that Jack would cooperate, although they didn’t have much hope that he would. No sane person would, and Jack was far from sane. Plan B had been worked out beforehand as well, to keep Jack in the dark for as long as they could. Less emotion, less violence, if they could help it.

  Joe and Mike donned the heavy gloves. The three moved in on him, Carla being the most careful. She couldn’t use her gun with the heavier gloves on, she later realized. She had only her leather gloves for protection.

  Joe and Mike acted at once. Joe moved behind Jack, locked his heavy arms around his neck and held on. God, Jack was strong. He growled and lifted Joe off the ground. He started to try to grab his brother from behind but Mike got a hold of Jack’s free arm.

  Jack was now pulling Mike toward him, even with all of Joe’s efforts to restrain his brother. Jack yanked Mike toward him and then he whipped his hand up, flipped the nail outward. He aimed for the eye and shoved with every ounce of his strength.

  Fortunately, Joe saw it at the last second and heaved Jack over. The nail drove into Mike’s cheek—and stayed in.

  Mike fell back, surprised as hell, howling.

  Joe jumped on Jack, but he was no match for his brother. He was holding on, now with his legs wrapped around his brother’s waist, but he was losing control.

  With a howl of pain and surprise, Mike yanked the nail out of his cheek. He was angry now. It hurt, but Mike was trained military and knew his mission. His anger made him stronger and he used that to get a good grip on Jack’s free hand, slap the cuff on it and yank it to the chain tied to the other beam. They had him.

  Jack was still standing, now with his arms stretched wide, as if he were being crucified. But he thrashed and snarled as Joe moved around to face his brother.

  To Mike, he said, “Are you all right?”

  Mike’s gash was narrow but it had gone straight through. Blood ran down his cheek and he spat more out.

  “Can’t think about it,” he panted. “Move in, move out. Right?”

  “Right,” Joe answered. They knew the sooner they did it, the sooner this would all be over.

  They each took hold of one of Jack’s wrists and pulled him down to a kneeling position. Even now, he could be dangerous. They moved quickly. First, they moved one of the water buckets a little closer. Carla came as close as she dared. She pointed the gun straight at his face while Joe and Mike moved the other bucket into place.

  “I’m not fucking around, Jack.” Carla’s tone was cold now. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.”

  He growled at her but he wasn’t certain she wouldn’t shoot. He trusted no one now. All he could think of was saving his own life.

  They’d agreed that Mike would do it. They’d figured out the logistics, and now Joe moved behind his brother and, as he lifted Jack’s legs, Mike dunked Jack’s head into the cold water.

  It only took a few minutes but it seemed like forever. Carla couldn’t watch. She was a good, strong cop, but she ran to the corner and vomited while Mike held down the man she cared so much about.

  Jack finally stopped struggling. Just like Joe had, Mike watched as Jack’s arms and legs now convulsed. Then he was still. As Mike gently lifted Jack’s head out of the bucket, Joe set his legs down.

  It was done.

  Joe just stood there, looking at his brother’s lifeless body. He couldn’t hold back any longer, and let the tears come. Carla was just about as useless. She finally holstered her gun.

  Mike knew what to do. It wasn’t any easier the second time drowning someone. He unchained one of Jack’s hands, turned him on his side, and hit him hard in the back.

  Nothing.

  Fuck.

  Jack just laid there, eyes wide open, mouth open, completely still. Mike hit him again, harder.

  Joe picked up on Mike’s growing anxiety. He bent down next to him. “It’s not working?”

  “I don’t know,” Mike said.

  “What should we do?” Now Joe was starting to panic. Carla just backed away, her hand over her mouth, horrified.

  “Jack! Come on, man! Wake the fuck up!” urged Mike.

  “Let’s take the other cuff off.”

  “No,” Mike argued. “We all agreed he’s not getting loose unless we’re sure he’s cured.”

  “Fuck that. He’s my brother, goddammit. Carla, give me the cuff keys.”

  Carla looked up at Joe, her eyes round and full of fear. She looked from Mike to Joe...then shook her head.

  Joe was about to get up and get the keys, one way or another, when Mike locked his fingers together for maximum force—and whacked Jack in the back as hard as he could.

  Finally, Jack started coughing.

  Chapter Twenty

  Anna was wild with fear and worry.

  He had managed to get her away from the door, but she fought him, and he knew her, too. If he didn’t hold his ground, she’d be down in the cellar to possibly mess everything up. Or worse, get hurt.

  So, he did all he could to keep her in the room without hurting her. Jared didn’t know what was happening any more than she did, but he had to keep her away from whatever was going on down there.

  They ended up laying on her bed side by side, Jared with his arms around her and Anna sobbing quietly. He wondered how many more tears she could possibly shed. He handed her a water bottle from the nearby nightstand. Maybe that would help replenish her tears. She took it and drank the whole damn thing.

  It wasn’t until the knock came at the door, that he let her go. She leaped up and ran and had the door open before Jared could even roll over.

  Uncle Joe stood there, sweating, shaking, but smiling. He embraced her, still smiling. That said it all. As Anna wept happy tears, Jared wondered if he would cry like this, too, if his own parents were involved in this crazy mess. He was, after all, becoming more concerned about them. They worked at the zoo, too. But where were they now? Why hadn’t they called him?

  “He’s all right,” Joe said, stroking Anna’s hair. “He’s all right.”

  “You swear?”

  “I swear.”

  “Can I see him? Please!”

  “Yes, come and see your dad,” Joe said, and she rushed down the stairs after him.

  Jared found Anna sitting cross-legged across from her father, embracing him. Jared thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed. Father and daughter reunited. For
them, no one else existed. Anna was so happy; she kept wiping her father’s tears away. Jack caressed Anna’s hair like he’d done a million times before, whenever she’d had a skinned knee or a bad dream.

  “I’m so sorry, angel, that you had to go through this,” Jack told his daughter. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. He couldn’t believe he’d ever not loved her as any parent loves a child. And he was astounded that she’d come through all of this...this terror, as well as she had.

  “Don’t be sorry, Daddy,” Anna said. “You’re the one who had to...” She couldn’t finish.

  He hugged her again. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed. “It’s over. I’m okay. You should thank your Uncle Joe. And Mike. And Carla.” He looked up to Jared, who was standing by himself. “And, I’m thinking, Jared, maybe most of all.”

  Jack looked up at Jared. “Come here, son.”

  Jared sat down next to Anna, across from Jack. “I know how hard this was on Anna.” Jack’s words were warm, sincere. “You’ve been her backbone from day one.” Jack thought about hugging Jared, but reconsidered. He held out his hand, man to man. “Thank you for caring for my daughter when I could not.”

  Jared took his hand, relieved that everything turned out all right, that this whole mess was solved, that Jack was okay, and that Anna was happy. “You’re welcome, Jack.”

  Mike spat out another flush of blood. Mike was satisfied about “mission accomplished,” but he had this damn hole in his cheek to deal with.

  “Did I do that?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah. You did.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mike. I didn’t know—”

  “Never mind,” Mike said. “Now, can we get the hell out of this cellar?”

  * * *

  At last, all was well in the Carter household.

  Everyone was healthy, safe and sane. Mostly, they were all exhausted. Carla had dressed Mike’s wounded cheek as best she could. Mike could have used a couple of stitches, but he would have none of it. He settled for some Neosporin and a butterfly bandage.