Yield (51 page)

Deep Seattle clouds consume the moon. It plunges them all into black just as the flare burns down. Savage voices begin to scream out all around them. The sounds are close. So close. They stink of a vile and cruel fury.

“
Come here, girly,
”
they echo. Their primal calls are ice in Terra
’
s blood.
“
Gonna make you scream
…
”

Another hand reaches out for them from the shadows. Its skeletal fingers move like a viper strike. They latch onto the back of Terra
’
s jacket and drag the screaming teenager back into the darkness.

Unaware, the others sprint on at full speed.

Abd feels something brush his side, moving so quickly out of their circle of light that he barely sees the white jacket sleeves before they
’
re gone. The Arab spins, his eyes widening with terror. The writhing bodies of at least a dozen animals stretch out for them in the black.

“
Devin!
”
Abd yells. He pivots in a single breath and launches himself at the convict gripping Terra
’
s jacket. The metal shiv rips at the arms and hands reaching out. Its serrated edge finds many in its arcing path. Hands pull at Terra, unwilling to lose their exotic prize. Abd jumps again at the body of the attacker, slashing at the skinhead
’
s stomach and chest until the beast finally releases her.

Chris leaps over Abd, lashing out with powerful kicks and punches from his long limbs. He lifts Terra up into his arms and lunges away.

Abd spins again toward the dark and whips his knife into the remaining tentacles of orange. Slowly, the shadows recede.

The Arab backs cautiously away and turns to join the others. He takes only a few steps before a sharp pain shoots through his lower left back. Abd looks down at a set of dirty fingernails now gripping that shoulder.

He stumbles forward to jerk himself free. Glancing behind, Abd sees a face with two teardrops stitched just below his eyes. The man smiles wickedly back. In the convict
’
s hand, a 4-inch blade covered in deep crimson flickers in the flare
’
s red light.

“
Come on!
”
Devin yells. He pulls at the Arab
’
s Mariners jersey, dragging him into a run. For some reason Abd
’
s legs feel weaker with each stride. Every footfall again summons more. He grits his teeth, trying to blink back the growing fog in his eyes.

Frenzied footsteps and the stench of hot breath are right on top of them as they scramble towards the glass entry of Warshal
’
s Sporting Goods.

Devin shatters the bottle of Jack Daniel
’
s on the concrete sidewalk in front. He smashes the butt of his shotgun through the glass door, kicking the rest in.

Chris quickly helps Terra and Isabel through the broken shards just as the shotgun booms behind him.

The wet streak of alcohol on the ground instantly blazes to life. Flames igniting within the battle lines of vice illuminate a legion of wild-eyed men in
orange
. The former inmates cringe back from the light. They move angrily into the shadows,
gathering to watch their game flee.

Devin pulls Abd to the door and throws him forcefully through. The surprisingly powerful arms of the fireman send the thin Arab man hurtling through the air. His body lands and slides painfully along the unforgiving tile floor. The wind rushes out of his lungs. Abd
’
s legs still churn, trying to drive him deeper into the store.

The fireman backs through the frame after him, cocking his weapon as the animals lunge at them both. Devin tears down a display rack in front of the broken window. He fires his last round into a pair of violent hands at the doorway. The enraged prisoner crumples. Buck shot rips through his torso before he falls.

Devin pushes over carts and stand-up displays to block the shattered door, staggering back into Warshal
’
s. Just outside, the shrieks of anarchy awaken and turn into a deafening roar. Orange soon fills the glass. A blur of savagery moves through the city, eager to speak its native tongue.

Two inmates approach the door again, stepping on top of the dead man trapped inside. They climb through the broken window, their eyes glowing white in the darkness.

Devin lunges toward the glass. He cocks the gun and levels it ominously. The last empty shell shoots out of the side, echoing loudly as it hits the floor.

“
Get the hell out of here!
”
Devin roars. He slams the shotgun barrel into one of the men
’
s faces.

Seeing the familiar flash of one of their own in Devin
’
s deadly eyes, both men back slowly away. They glare at him with a barbarous hunger. Reluctantly, they turn and join the mob of orange jumpsuits screaming down the street in search of easier prey.

Devin steps back into the shadows one guarded foot at a time. The fireman
’
s hands keep his bluff trained on the doorway. Behind him, he hears Chris raiding the gun counter.

Randomly, the teenager grabs weapons and boxes of ammunition, placing both on the glass top. Terra cowers behind the safety of the counter closest to him. Her blue eyes are transfixed by the sea of orange still coursing just past the storefront.

“
You know what you
’
re doing?
”
Devin whispers. He backs quickly down the aisle toward them. His head whips back and forth, hearing a new crowd of inmates running by the broken entrance. The chants begin to grow outside in some kind of deadly anticipation.  Worry twists through Devin
’
s stomach.

The demonic choir is calling for blood.

“
Not really,
”
Chris says. His big hands are shaking. He can
’
t seem to match the numbers on the boxes to the artillery tags in front of him. None of the numbers line up.

“
Get those handguns there,
”
Devin points,
“
and hand me that box of shells.
”
He glances down into the glass case, dropping to a knee. The fireman
’
s head swivels back to the window as he empties a box of 12-gauge shells onto the ground. The rounds slide up into the dual-chamber with a click.

Devin cocks the weapon and stands in one smooth motion. He points the shotgun at the front door, but even the dead body is now gone. Pane after pane of tall glass stands temptingly across the long entry area.

Hundreds of wicked eyes stare back at them from just beyond the windows, plotting and planning in the dark.

“
Wait up
!
”
Abd yells, trying to catch up with the lumbering strides of the firefighter.

The redhead just moves faster. His steeling green eyes push out all emotion.
They can
’
t expect you to hold their hands,
he justifies
. It
’
s not your responsibility. They
’
ll be fine. You have to get home to Katherine and the kids
…

The frightened looks on the faces he abandoned still flash in Devin
’
s mind. They gnaw at his soul, pleading for him to stay. He washes the thought down with some of Jack
’
s familiar warmth. Devin forces his legs to run. His muscles burn, driving away the pain of this city. He races faster and faster toward the happiness of home.

The inviting picket fence and barbeques with the neighbors
—
cares of suburbia now seem a lifetime away. Paying bills and making sure the kids do their chores, even dealing with the PTA
’
s disdainful looks after punching out another one of Haley
’
s delinquent boyfriends; that world feels like an elusive paradise now. The good and bad of daily life have forever been put into a new perspective.

Abd flies past the distracted man, moving surprisingly fast for his haggard build. Suddenly, the Arab turns and stops. The tip of his twisted metal knife is raised, pointing hesitantly at Devin
’
s chest.
“
When you save a life, you become responsible for it,
”
Abd says,
his shoulders heaving.

Devin slows. The serrated sheet-metal edge sparkles dangerously in the moonlight.
“
Not in my religion, bloke.
”
The fireman stuffs the bottle of whiskey back into his bag.
“
But if you stop me from getting to my family again,
”
his emerald eyes flash,
“
you may just get to meet your precious Allah.
”

“
You could have left everyone to burn back on the plane,
”
Abd says.
“
I did
…
”
His dark sockets lower to the ground.
“
But you didn
’
t, Devin. You
’
re not a bad man. Don
’
t become one just when you
’
re needed most.
”

The fireman cocks the shotgun and levels it into Abd
’
s face.
“
Did you not see what we did behind that grocery store, mate?
”
Devin growls.
“
To protect
the people I care about
, I
’
ll do whatever it takes.
”

“
And if you shoot me down?
”
Abd asks, his body stiffening.
“
What will you tell your
kids
then?
”

Devin
’
s eyes turn to ice. The faint echo of children
’
s laughter begins to drift back to him along the cool night air. There is salvation in the sound, and an ever-present resiliency
,
trying to pull him back from the brink.

“
What lessons are you teaching them,
”
Abd continues,
“
when you abandon those still in your care?
”

The words eat away at Devin like a cancer. His anger and impatience fade, unable to defend his own reasoning anymore. The weapon in his hands trembles lower. He looks down at the bottle of alcohol, a mixture of desire and disgust on his face.
“
You
’
re a blooming nutter,
”
Devin groans, shoving the bottle deeper into his bag.
“
You know that, right?
”

“
I
’
ve been called far worse, my friend,
”
Abd says. His crooked smile shines back the moon
’
s soft glow. There
’
s a fleeting sparkle of enlightenment in the Arab
’
s black eyes.

“
You
’
re the last bloke I expected to make any bloody sense out here.
”
A reluctant grin returns to Devin
’
s face.
“
Well, I
’
m sure the others are a might tossed at me. Let
’
s go see what all the fuss is about.
”

He tips the gun barrel up to his shoulder and turns around. Dozens of indistinguishable masses seem to blur together along the blackened streets. Devin tries to focus his eyes but can only make out shadows in the dark.

The fireman tilts his head, straining to listen. He forces his swaying body to still. An eerie din of metropolitan silence thunders back. Even the occasional cricket call or bird chirp has been erased from existence. The quiet is somehow both violent and serene
—
more unsettling than any graveyard. Only the damned remain
…

The fireman swallows hard.

The sounds of shuffling feet suddenly rush at him. He spins. Echoes bounce off the husks of buildings all around. He levels his weapon, eyes wide with fear.

“
Easy!
”
Chris
’
s voice barks. He escorts two trembling bodies out of the black and into the moonlight. Their weary faces are streaked with tears.