Music City Macabre: The Low Lying Lands Saga: Vol. 1 (15 page)

There were two more floors that would need to be scavenged before we left here, but I thought I would take Shields up on her advice. Lexi and I would take a quick power nap before we patrolled the rest of this behemoth. Lexi would undoubtedly alert me to any trouble if it were to arrive. I picked a blue couch that was in better than average condition and actually felt pretty damn good. I noticed, when I ran my hands over the surface, there patches in the fabric. This couch had been repaired in several places. I got up and walked around all the other pieces. The simple act of repairing the torn up lounge furniture struck me like a firm slap to the face. Shields was right. Dammit. These people had done everything they possibly could to remain...human. To maintain their humanity in the face of an ugly, unsafe, and destructive world. They taught the kids to sew. I lay back down on the couch with Lexi at my feet and my mind in turmoil.

Where was my humanity? What was I doing here? I came here to kill Kade because of the radio broadcast of a possible, no, probable lunatic. Here I stood, where people who were just trying to live their lives the best way possible under the circumstances lost everything. They were a community not about surviving. Not about fighting. Not about dying. These people were about
living.
The Network
,
whatever that was, had told them to find me. Why? I can only hope that I am not responsible for the massacre of these people. Sending Shields and Cole to find me had saved their lives. Maybe the three of us were meant to do something?
Oh for fuck’s sake Prescott. Get over yourself. You are not a holy warrior. You are an asshole. Who moonlights as someone who pretends to give a shit. You’re here to kill Kade for your own selfish agenda. You don’t care who you hurt in the process.
I drifted off feeling like the asshole I wasn’t trying to be but most likely was.

I woke up a short time later feeling disoriented and not very well rested. I sat up and reached down to confirm Lexi was still there, then stood up and stretched.
Good lord!
My body was breaking down. Wrestling with Cole had, in essence, almost completely undone what Doctor West had done at the Normal Safe Zone. The stab wound to my chest had reopened and was bleeding through my shirt. Dammit! I left the meds in Jeep. The staples had pulled out and there was bleeding. The Doc was right, though. If I didn’t take care of my injuries, infection would become a seriously lethal problem. You know, if I wasn’t killed by a madman, his Freak army, or an ex-Army Ranger who was losing his grip.

Lexi and I made our way out of the lounge and were heading down the walkway to a large staircase. Old signage hung awkwardly from one side with a thin chain that directed me upstairs to the computer lab, student organization offices, and another, I guess less formal dining area. I sent Lexi up the stairs and started to follow when my stapled leg gave way under me.
Jesus, that really hurt.
I sat there on the stairs, grimacing, and debated calling for Cole to help me back to up to the front. Lexi was looking me over and whimpering her concern. I am proud, man. I’m not going lame for any man...or dog. I jockeyed my ass down four or five steps to the bottom. Then I grabbed the handrail and forced myself to stand. A stain was forming on my pants about seven inches above my knee. Blood. I’m very fortunate this was a stab and not a slice. If it had been sliced, my quadriceps and I never would’ve left
The 88.

The hell with this. I need the meds from the jeep. Now. I’m not going to lie, I’m getting a bit confused by the vastness of this building. I was breaking out in the sweats again. I could feel my heartbeat racing.
What is happening to you, Prescott? Get your act together and get your ass to the Jeep.
I forced myself to start walking and said, “Lexi...JEEP!” She looked back at me, barked sharply, and trotted out several feet in front of me. “That’s it girl. JEEP!” I followed her back the way we came and down a hallway I didn’t even remember to the door that led out to our vehicles. I grabbed the small duffel Jay had given me with changes of clothes and the bag Doctor West had given me.

I checked through it and found the pain medication and antibiotics. Also the medical tape, gauze bandages, and good old-fashioned Neosporin. My leg was seriously killing me and I started to think for the first time that while my mind was strong enough, my body might not be.
No! That’s not right.
I must be going crazy from the meds. It feels like I’m talking to myself...and answering back.

I slung the duffel over my shoulder with a wince and started back. I tied the med bag to the duffel to keep both hands free. Lexi led the way back once again, except this time I was intercepted by Cole and Shields.

“Where in the seven layers of Hell did you go Prescott?” Cole snarled.

I looked at them both for a few seconds, then jerked my head towards the duffel. “Uh, Gandhi called and said he was hungry so I went out looking for a salad.”

Cole grabbed my tie faster than I could react and jerked me close enough to see the crazy hiding behind his eyes. “Is this some kind of joke to you, motherfucker? Are all my friends dying the punch line to your bullshit escapade?”

“No. Cole, absolutely not. I apologize. I meant no disrespect. I just thought it was obvious I went to my Jeep. That’s all, Cole. You
are
fucking up my favorite tie, though.” Cole rocked me with a head butt and down I went. I needed some Prego for my spaghetti legs. Honestly, I was getting pretty tired of the head butt. Dammit, that hurt. Lexi started snarling and it quickly grew to a ferocious bark. I was sure she was about go after Cole. I threw up my hands and yelled “Lexi! NO!” She stopped her barking instantly and came to me. She then walked slowly around me staring at Cole the entire time. She came completely full circle and sat directly in front of me, putting herself between Cole and me.

“Look, Cole. Shit man. I’m just trying to keep my head above water. I couldn’t possibly understand the place you and Shields are in right now. But I can tell what I do understand. Revenge. I didn’t know your friends. But I can help you avenge them. What do you say?”

He looked at me and his eyes glazed over. Who knows what is going inside Cole’s head? I think he does the best he can under the circumstances. But he’s a victim of The Descent as much as anyone else. He’s a killer, though. As much as he tried to fight it by coming to this community, and attempting an emotional reset, he is hardwired to kill. Like it or not, this is what is needed of him right now, and by the look in his eyes, he knows it.

He eased up from his fighting position and said, “We’re not through, Prescott. Not by a long shot. If we make it through this, you and me are going settle up. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it,” I wheezed.

We all walked back together, albeit slowly on my account, to the front of the Student Union and regrouped. We were a psychotherapist’s wet dream. A mother who’d lost her family, only to gain another one and lose it too. An ex-Army Ranger with mental problems anyway, but who was now experiencing severe survivor’s guilt. A guy whose sister was given over by her own father to a demon, to be murdered. And finally, a dog whose owner killed himself and locked her in the bathroom alone with his dead body. Bring it on!

THE C-TEAM

We needed to talk before we proceeded. There was no longer any doubt that all further actions of our group were a committed effort to kill Kendrick Kade. Honestly, the discussion was rather short. I stated that I thought Shields was the most cool and calculated of the three of us. Therefore, she should be in charge. Cole agreed. Shields was reluctant due to the fact that, “Men are assholes and when the shit hits the fan one or both of you will either challenge me or straight up usurp me.” I assured her that as the current weak link I didn’t have the energy or ability to challenge her.

“We’ll see what The Network has to say if it’s even still...with us.” Shields said, rather mysteriously.

“Here we go with The Network
again. What the fuck is The Network?
”
I asked, with exasperation.

“You might just be about to find out.”

“Good,” muttered Cole. “I hate to agree with Prescott, but I don’t think it matters who the hell knows about The Network anymore.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong, Cole. If The Network survived Kade’s attack, and that is a very big if, its secrecy is more vital than ever before. We couldn’t possibly protect it now. Weapons check. You’d best be armed to the teeth. Bring everything you can carry. Check your clips, examine your weapons and be ready to fire. A misfire or a jam could mean your life. Wheels up in twenty.” Shields walked about fifteen paces away, unholstered her handgun, and started to examine it.

“What?”

“It’s an old TV show. She always says that no matter what we’re doing,” said Cole.
Is he warming up to you Prescott?

“I don’t know, maybe so.” I said.

“What?” said Cole, affronted.

“Huh,” I retorted.

“Who the fuck you talking to, Prescott?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about but I gotta go over my weapons. Wheels up in twenty, remember?”

Twenty-three minutes later we cautiously opened the front doors of the former Student Union building at Middle Tennessee State University and made our way towards the completely devastated Murfreesboro Safe Zone. The exterior of the building looked like a typical post-Descent skeleton. The majority of the glass exterior had been smashed, but there was minimal damage to the structure.

We made our way across the lawn and to the MSZ in a safe but expedited ten minutes. Shields was in the front with a black-as-night twelve-gauge Mossberg shotgun, two Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistols holstered on her hips and her katana in its sheath on her back. Cole was in the rear with a Marlin lever-action hunting rifle. His eyes were on the roof and surrounding area, and the outlying perimeter. He was also carrying his Ranger standard issue Mk46 assault rifle. Once inside the building, he ditched the rifle. And of course he also had a Beretta 9mm pistol in a hip holster. As for me, I was already slow due to my leg injury, so I had my two Glocks and carried a lightweight a-frame ladder in my hand. Lexi was keeping pace on my other hip.

The entire ten minutes it took us to cross the distance between buildings, Jim Hawkins was staring at me. The sign had somehow been perfectly placed to land front and center on his chest when he was pushed off the roof. If there had been any upside whatsoever, it was that he hadn’t suffered. He didn’t struggle or fight to the amusement of Kade or his Freak parade. Before we started, Cole had requested and Shields had agreed, that the first order of business was cutting Jim Hawkins down.

I set up the ladder and held it while Shields switched to the hunting rifle and was out in front doing a three-sixty rotation to cover us. Cole had taken serious steps to compartmentalize his grief and guilt to be on for the task at hand. He climbed up to the top of the ladder, to ensure he took the brunt of the weight, and then cut the rope. Hawkins dropped gently over his shoulder and Cole climbed down. He carried his friend and commanding officer about ten feet away from the massacre site and laid him down gently on his back. Out of the large leg pocket of his fatigue pants Cole produced a United States flag. He unfolded it and covered his friend. He saluted, turned and jogged back to the group. “OK,” he said. Let’s do it.”

“Wait one second. Before we go inside I feel like I need to say something. Cole, Prescott, we’re most likely about to see two hundred or more dead bodies. I need you to keep in mind, first and foremost, that we are here to discover the immediate condition of The Network
.
We cannot have our attention diverted, or become distracted by what we will no doubt see. Do you both understand me? We still don’t even know if there are any hostiles in there.”

“I can guarantee I have never seen anything like what we are about to see,” I said. “But Lexi and I have eyes on you and we go where you go.”

Cole said, “Yes Ma’am. Eyes on your six.”

“Good. OK, let’s go.”

We walked through the front entrance where the doors used to be and immediately were accosted by the ripe smell of death. In plain sight, there were easily twenty or more bodies, all of which had been staged grotesquely in a scene that was
welcoming
us to the party. There was a young woman sitting in a chair at the welcome desk whose throat had been cut so deeply her head was about to fall off. She has a sign placed in her hands that says,
SORRY YOU COULDN’T MAKE IT! WE STARTED WITHOUT YOU!
It was horrendous. I thought I heard Cole stifle his gag reflex. My stomach was churning, but I turned back and focused on Shields.

She ignored the Rec Center side of the building and entered through the Health Services doors. The doors were partially propped open by a protruding arm. The hand appeared to be clawing for an escape. Shields stepped to one side, nodded towards me to open the door, and immediately turned to face the way we’d come to protect my back. Cole was sweeping side to side.

Go ahead, open it, Prescott.
Not giving fear any time to creep in, I pulled the door open right away. The arm… was just an arm. There was no body in sight and the hallway was far reaching. We rotated and Cole shifted to the front, Shields to the middle, and Lexi and I brought up the rear. I had long since drawn my Glocks and was actually itching to shoot something. It was an odd time to have the thought but I hadn’t actually seen a Freak since I left Chicago.
That’s pretty odd, right? Why is that?
We spend so much time and effort being afraid of the Freaks that you don’t often think about the fact that you can, on some occasions, go weeks at a time without seeing one.