Dead World (Book 1): The Impetus (2 page)

Isaiah doesn’t even falter. He swings again, a heavy, full body swing that impacts the smaller man on the side of his head. The crack is like snapping wood and Daniel can hear broken vertebrae as the things body is thrown backwards like so much meat.

The new baristas head slams against the corner of the counter on the way down and a spurt of blood erupts from the collision covering the pastry case in gore.

Daniel puts his hand over his mouthing willing himself not to retch as Isaiah takes deep breaths his whole body shaking. “Are you OK?” Daniel asks trying to think of anything besides the obvious. His mind is still reeling. All of this is just happening too fast and he is trying to keep himself from shutting down.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Isaiah responds taking deep breaths to try to control his shaking. Daniel thought at first that Isaiah might have been a violent guy when he was younger, but clearly nothing prepared seeing this.

A loud rumble shakes the windows, the shattered glass dancing as the ground vibrates. It sounds like it is getting closer incredibly fast.

Daniel runs over to the broken door stepping over the body of a young woman, her tattered dress stained red. The roar continues to grow until it sounds like an airplane is right on top of them. Daniel has never heard a plane so close but as the ground shakes he knows that it must be right overhead.

He watches as it tears through the sky, looking close enough to touch. It is a massive 747, everything about it looks fine. Except the fact that it is headed directly towards the ground, right for the Dominion Towers a few blocks over. Smoke is already trickling from one of the windows, but Daniel quickly realizes what is going to happen next.

“Get down!” He yells out to the others who have appeared in the door way of the back room. They dive for cover and Daniel throws himself behind the condiment bar. He lands on broken glass and scrapes his arms, blood trickles from the lacerations.

The sound of the plane crashing into the buildings is deafening. The glass from the few surviving windows is blown inwards in a shower of deadly shrapnel. Daniel feels a few of the pieces nick his neck drawing more blood.

The blast of the crash seems to stretch out forever. Like the final crescendo of the chaos that the day has become.

Daniel regrets everything he ever thought about having a more difficult life. He regrets writing about characters that have been through trauma and trying to relate to them without ever having been through any himself.

Everything he has seen today goes cascading through his mind and the bloodshed overwhelms him. His vision starts to close in, light dwindling down to a pinprick as his body shuts down.

“Daniel,” someone says. But it sounds far away and distant like he is underwater. “Daniel,” they call again and he finally realizes that it is one of the other survivors trying to talk to him. “Daniel,” his eyes open as Valentine lays a hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

“Hey,” he says too loud.

“Are you OK, Daniel? Can you hear me?” Valentine is asking, looking him in his eyes. He tries to nod but she is swimming in and out of focus, his head throbs with pain.

“Yeah,” he says again too loudly.

“I think he might be concussed,” she looks over her shoulder at Isaiah who is standing with Chloe in one arm and Sasha holding his free arm. Valentine turns back to Daniel. “Daniel we need to move. The violence seems to have passed, but we don’t know for how long. I live right across the street in those apartments,” She points. She is taking her time to enunciate, so that he can understand but Daniel is barely able to keep track of her. She tries to pull him up and he rises unsteadily. She puts his arm over her shoulder and starts walking him towards the door.

“Come on girls we need to get going,” Isaiah says to his family. “Sasha, cover Chloe’s eyes. Chloe, don’t look at anything out there OK? Some bad stuff happened but you need to shut your eyes tight. Don’t look at any of it. We are going to be safe,” he tries to reassure her.

Daniel’s ears are still ringing as Valentine helps him hobble a few steps. Fear begins clearing his head of the feeling of cotton balls. Everything in the past hour is taking its toll. It seems like forever since he was just drinking a latte. 

The chaos is starting to wear on his ability to think clearly. The adrenaline high is crashing and taking his reserves of strength with it.

They leave the store and he realizes that the lights are still on. He isn’t sure why, but such a small thing, such a normal little thing makes all of the violence seem surreal. Like a terrifying nightmare that he is just hoping to wake up from.

There should be a storm right now, with flashing lightning and ominous music; not the middle of a sunny afternoon with a nice breeze and the lights to his favorite coffee shop still working.

But even as he thinks that he knows it is a vain hope. This is all too much. Even in the depths of his darkest thoughts this was never a possibility.

The sound of violence has completely disappeared now and the silence that replaces it feels deafening.

His group needs to get across the street to safety. The moment he thinks of them as his group something changes. Before, this was some unreal terror, but looking at them he sees a group of people who have all witnessed the same horrors as him. Who have seen the violence and didn’t lose themselves to it like all these others.

“What do you think caused all this?” Daniel asks, more wondering aloud than hoping for any real answer. There are bodies strewn across the parking lot. They walk with measured steps to avoid the bodies and the blood.

It is almost too thick with corpses to manage. The copper tang of blood mixes with smoke. Daniel coughs, the smell wrenching his stomach.

“I don’t know.” Valentine says covering her moth at the sight of the young man with his throat ripped open.

Daniel knows they shouldn’t look around but it is like one giant car wreck that is impossible to look away from. “It’s like they completely lost their minds. They just went crazy.”

They walk in silence for a few moments. Valentine takes the lead on her way to the apartment. Daniel takes in everything as they walk. He hopes that whatever it is that caused these people to go crazy isn’t contagious.

Across the parking lot is a tangled wreck of cars that were in line. A rusty pick-up slammed through the line. Daniel can make out the face of someone stuck inside a car. An elderly woman slumped over, blood pouring from a gash he can’t see.

The insanity affected their ability to feel pain. It’s obvious because some of the injuries would be enough to put a large man down a couple times over. Daniel realizes that survival might depend on noticing these small things.

Daniel has always been a categorizer. Everything happens for a reason, and if you can connect the dots then you can figure out a pattern. If you can figure out a pattern you can work on a solution.

He sees a turned over stroller with what must have been the mom, she is wearing a jogging suit and her blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail. Her arm is twisted beneath her body and blood is pooled around her, covering the fabric of the stroller. Daniel turns his head willing himself not to think about what might have happened to the baby in the stroller.

They head over the small grass divider in to the street. The snarled cars are backed bumper to bumper. 

A row of maple trees grows along the strip of grass separating the store from the street. Leaves sway in the afternoon breeze and the sun shines down on them. It would be such a normal day. Such a perfect day if it weren’t for everything that happened.

They walk around and through the mess of cars trying not to look at everything around them. There are bodies everywhere with various wounds. Whatever it was that caused them to go crazy didn’t target a specific age or gender.

An old lady, gray hair matter with blood. Her Bronco’s sweater is covered in dark red blood and her body is pinned between two cars. Her legs must be shattered and there is a pool of blood underneath her.

“Don’t look at anything,” Isaiah says, “we need to get to the apartment fast. We need to figure out what is happening.” What he says makes sense. Someone will have an answer for what is going on. Help is coming.

They cross the street as quickly as they can, while still avoiding the piles of bodies that died trying to tear each other apart.

The questions Daniel has keep piling up. This is like a horrible SyFy movie. Daniel wonders if this is some sort of bio terrorism but that doesn’t seem possible. I mean what could affect so many people all at once he wonders.

In a few minutes they are across the street, walking through the parking lot towards her apartment. “It’s right over here,” Valentine says pointing to a set of stairs that lead up to the third floor. The parking lot of her building is not as bad as the street was. There is still so much blood, but there were less people here when it happened so it is only a few isolated corpses.

“We shouldn’t stay out in the open. At least until we know what’s happening” Daniel says. Isaiah picks up Chloe who still has her eyes screwed shut and her hands over her ears.

What would it be like to be a dad during a moment like this he wonders? Daniel can’t even imagine.

They ascend the stairs and head down a hallway that is enclosed inside the apartment complex. The walls are a dark green, and thankfully the place is free of bodies.

Valentine stops in front of her door, 14E, and pulls the key from her pocket. “We can wait inside; maybe they will have something on the news or something.” The keys jangle in her shaking hands as she opens the door and lets them in.

The apartment is simple, furnished with a minimalists touch. The walls are a hue of light blue and there is a modern style to her furnishings. It’s a small two bedroom, with a living room and two halls leading off in either direction. The kitchen is just inside the door to the left and a small island separates it from the rest of the apartment.

“Make yourselves at home,” Valentine says pointing towards her couch. “Sasha why don’t you let Chloe lay down?” She offers.

“Thank you so much,” Sasha says. Daniel notices it’s the first time she has said anything. Her face is pale and her eyes are wide. Being in a home seems to be calming for her. Like her frayed nerves are finally settling in. “Do you have some water?”

“Yes of course.” Valentine goes into the kitchen as Isaiah and Sasha take Chloe to sit on the couch.

Daniel stands numbly with his hands on the back of the chair by the table. He realizes that he left his binder with his manuscript at the coffeehouse. It is just a small thing, he knows he has it saved a dozen different times on his computer, but it strikes him just how fast things have changed.

“Maybe we should turn on the TV? See if they know anything about what’s happening out here?” Valentine says as she is grabbing a cup of water from the tap.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Isaiah says, “Where’s the remote?”

“Just there in the drawer.” Valentine walks over and hands the glass to Chloe who has finally taken her hands off her head and is looking around like she is lost. “Here you go honey.” Valentine says. Sasha runs her hands through Chloe’s hair. The small girl takes a sip and says thanks meekly.

Isaiah pulls out the remote and just before he turns on the TV he turns to Valentine. “Could we maybe put Chloe in your room?” He tilts his head towards the TV. “I don’t know what they will be reporting.”

“Yeah you’re right, of course.” Valentine stands up “It’s just over here.”

Sasha stands up holding Chloe’s hand. “I’ll sit with her. I don’t want her to be alone.” They head back into the room leaving Isaiah and Daniel alone.

The room is quiet for a moment. Isaiah looks over at Daniel. “It’s crazy out there. What do you think happened?”

“I have no idea,” Daniel shrugs. “I mean what the hell was that?”

“I don’t know either. I’m hoping there will be something that can help us out on the news. Hell if they know anything at all it could be helpful. Hopefully this isn’t happening everywhere.”

“You’re right,” Daniel looks away. “Oh and about that guy back there in the store. Thanks.”

“Don’t even mention it,” Isaiah nods, his face dark. “I don’t know what happened there but we got to help each other out you know? He was just… I don’t know. He just lost it. I tried to get him to stay with us”

“It’s not your fault Isaiah. Everything that happened out there,” Daniel says, looking at the door. “It’s some real shit but it’s not your fault.”

“I know. I’m just so concerned for Chloe. What if something bad would’ve happened to her?”

“Hey,” Daniel interrupts to stop that line of thinking before it goes too far. “It didn’t. We’ll figure out what’s happening and help is going to come. You did great and you saved all of us back there. We just need to lay low and figure this all out.”

Isaiah nods again and stares back at the dark TV. The house smells like a vanilla candle, so strangely normal. The room is mostly quiet with just a few mumbled words coming from the back room, the women trying to calm Chloe down and reassure her.

Daniel wishes he had someone to comfort him. He can barely keep himself calm. He knows Isaiah was protecting them but the wet thud of the boy’s head hitting the counter and the way his body went limp. Like someone had just turned him off.