Bad Things Page 12

  "I'll get more of the frozen stuff," Walter says.

  The twins are pointing guns at one another, practicing. "Rack those firearms, dammit," Walter snaps at the twins. Feels Stella’s eyes on him. "Sorry. Darn it. Rack 'em, boys." He turns back to Stella. "You want to start bringing clothes down?"

  “Did you try her again?” she asks.

  “I did.” He tries to keep her on point. “There’s a lot of clothes to bring—”

  “Did you give her the code? Just like you sent me?”

  “I did. Honey Bear, there’s a lot—”

  “Find her.”

  “Honey Bear. The end—”

  "Walter." Her eyes lock in. "Find. Her."

  “She’ll be here.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She knows what to do. She’s not a little girl anymore.” He sees that Stella wants to gut him with an ice cream scoop. “She will be here. I know it.”

  Stella takes a deep breath. A surprising calm washes over her. It’s terrifying how quickly her mood and demeanor have shifted. Even to Walter. Stella smiles, then kisses him hard on the lips. Too hard. She clamps her hands hard onto his ears. “If you’re wrong, I’m going to cut your throat while you sleep.”

  Walter blinks, frozen in fear.

  “You get me, Honey Bear?”

  Walter swallows hard, then nods.

  “Good.” Stella takes the stairs up two at a time. “You get the clothes. We don’t have much time.”

  Walter breathes out, feeling like he’s going to pass out.

  The twins point their fingers, sharing a laugh at Walter’s expense. The old man’s ass got served.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The USAF listening post is a shell of its former self.

  Reminds Dibs of what he saw when he checked out the Christiansen brothers’ meth lab. Only this is different, and not in a good way. No, this is more a combination of the brothers’ meth lab and the party Dibs, Kate and Mara just left.

  Lots of blood, alien goo, bodies and body parts. Bullet holes everywhere, with shell casings rolling in the night breeze. Part of the roof has been ripped off. Maybe blown off by a weapon of some kind. It's hard to tell. The same decoration of blood and alien goo is scattered on the floors and walls.

  Kate, Mara and Dibs stand speechless in the middle of the wreckage. Feels like a fist is twisting inside Dibs’s gut. He's not sure the exact number of military personnel who were here. It varies depending on the season and what's going on, but he knows damn well that some have been flipped to the other side. In all the chaos at the Voss party, he didn't notice any uniforms. Doesn't mean they weren't there.

  Now that he’s seen the conversion at work with his own eyes, it carries a lot more weight. He's seen it up close. It's not pretty. Not something he wants for him or anyone he cares about.

  Scanning the remains of the dead, he knows that some are alive, or whatever we're calling it these days, and are now part of the alien cult with the wives and that dickhole they call King. Their numbers are growing.

  He glances to the empty gun rack that has been dumped to the floor. There're a few guns here and there, but it's pretty evident that King's Cult of Crazy is growing fast, and now armed to the teeth, though Dibs doesn't recall seeing any firepower at the party. At least not on their side. Where did they take the guns? Are they storing them somewhere?

  Kate moves over to a row of busted-up computers. The screens have been smashed, some blown apart, and the computer towers have been ripped open. Some have large holes burned into the sides of them where the hard drive is usually located. Mara stands next to her thinking the same thing.

  “What?” Dibs knows something is on their minds. “What’s up?”

  "I think they pulled all the data they could from here," Kate says.

  "Bet those freaks got the servers too," Mara adds. "Who knows what they can do? Their tech is probably off the charts insane."

  “What?” Dibs asks, trying to get his head around this. Not a big tech guy. His internet sophistication stops at online porn. The MILF stuff mainly. Some Asian foot clips, but not too much to be weird. “So they’re going to hack some credit cards?”

  "No," Kate says, trying to choose her words. "Think it's bigger than that. Shouldn’t there be more going on right now? I mean, a military base was attacked."

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t think they would call that in, dumbass?” Mara isn’t about choosing words. “Aren’t you a cop?”

  Dibs’s mind fumbles. He completely forgot. Where’s Daniels? Dibs looks around, not sure he wants an answer to the question. Is it better to find a body or not? Dibs doesn't know. He just knows he needs to know. Closure is required.

  “What if they got to the rest of the military?” Mara continues.

  “I don’t know.” Kate runs her fingers through her hair, not wanting to think of the possibilities. “That… that would be bad.”

  “Why isn’t there a full-on, wrath-of-God-like force descending on Stagstone right now to fix this?” Mara asks. “There should be an army rolling in here right now.”

  Dibs checks heads looking for Daniels. Even the ones that aren't attached.

  “Dibs?” Kate’s concerned with his frantic search of dead bodies. “You okay?”

  “He’s not here.” Dibs leans up against the wall. “Daniels, he’s not here.”

  Kate looks to him, not knowing how to help. Mara can see it in his eyes. She may not know exactly what’s going on, but she knows something is hurting Dibs. Mara taps the breaks on her own fuming.

  Dibs closes his eyes. Fears the worst for Daniels, but knows he has to deal with this. That’s what he’d do. Peeling off and going nuts isn’t going to help him or anybody else right now. Dibs runs through what Kate and Mara have said. They’re right. If a military facility was attacked by anything, then people, lots of people, should be here by now. Something has kept the word from getting out, or worse, something has gotten rid of whoever could hear the words. A cold shiver runs up his spine. Bad has gone to worse. Dibs shakes it off.

  "Okay then." Dibs moves to Kate and Mara, standing directly in front of them. "Raise your right hands." He pulls out his Glock, holding it in his palm like a Bible.

  “What the fuck?” Mara snickers.

  “If I’m the only law here, and it sure as shit seems that way, I need a force to keep the peace. Going to deputize you both.” He nudges the gun toward them. “We’re the law in this town now.”

  Kate smiles big and raises her right hand.

  Mara does the same. “Cool shit, man.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The steel door creaks, rattles and shakes.

  After a few choice words of struggle and profanity, the large warehouse door finally rolls open. Dibs, Kate and Mara stand surveying the USAF building that resides not far from the main building. More like a garage and storage type area. Several jeeps and SUVs are parked, along with a small cache of tools and various machine parts.

  Dibs sips his coffee. They stopped to make some in the main building. One of the few things that still worked. Figures. Shit coffee survives. They decided they needed coffee, any coffee, and it would give them a second to take a breath and discuss what in the hell they were going to do. Kate takes a drink, then shudders.

  They didn't come up with any genuinely stellar plans. Other than the obvious we need to stop them and let’s kill them type of chatter. King and his Cult of Crazy, Dibs really hopes that catches on, have grown in size and armed themselves in no time flat, and they, without question, have some kind of plan. The newly deputized Stagstone PD is only three strong and needs something to slap the odds back in their favor. Or at least give them a shot in hell at winning this.

  Mara pours a little pick-me-up from a flask into her coffee. Dibs nudges her. Mara gives him a pour then offers some to Kate. She waves it off with a polite no thank you, then quickly changes her mind, nodding for Mara to give her some, too. The new members of Stagstone�
�s law enforcement squad stand sipping their spiked, warm bean juice, staring at what they hope will give them a shot. Swing the odds back toward them a little. They look at the only chance they have against the evil that has eaten their neighbors and infected their town.

  At the back of the warehouse sits that chance. Parked under a single light that shines on it like a diamond in a goat's ass is a sizeable military vehicle. They have no idea what the hell it's called, but it is huge, made of solid steel, and has a big gun on it. Several big-ass guns, actually. The front grill alone dwarfs the Blazer.

  "Daniels took me for a ride in it once," Dibs says as he walks toward the monster of a machine. "It's sweet. We can do some serious police work with this sick baby."

  “You know how to drive it?” Kate asks.

  "No idea," Dibs says. "How hard can it be?"

  Kate shrugs, sips her liquored-up coffee, shudders even more, then shrugs again.

  Mara stops in the middle of the warehouse. She can’t believe she didn’t think of this sooner. That she let her family slip her mind. Sure, a lot has happened. The almost-sex with Art what’s-his-nuts. The near-death experience with a family of aliens. The slaughter-party at Voss’s ranch. But to completely forget her family? Even Mara’s bonkers as hell family?

  A wave of sadness wrapped in guilt floods inside of her. She can’t believe she’s done this. Let herself get so caught up in the moment that she checked out completely. Blanked on her family. Forgot they even existed. As if she were alone in the universe and came from nowhere and nobody. Unforgivable. She closes her eyes tight, disgusted with herself.

  "I can't believe I forgot," Mara says to herself.

  “What?” Kate asks.

  "How did I completely forget about the only people who saw all this coming?" Mara asks no one in particular. "The people who have been planning for this very moment, well, all my life. The pack of whackos who are finally right for once."

  Kate has no idea what she’s talking about. “Mara, what—"

  “Not to mention,” Mara continues, “my dad served, and he might be the only person alive in this town who knows how this hunk of metal works.”

  Dibs is behind the wheel, not listening to a word Mara is saying. “Okay,” he says, checking gauges as if he has a clue. “If we can find the keys—”

  Mara rushes over to him. "We have to get to my parents’ house."

  “Oh, child,” Dibs says. “I know you’re worried about your—”

  "That's not it. I mean, yes, I want to make sure they're okay, but that's not it."

  Dibs’s mind kicks in. He forgot too. He knows all about her crazy as hell family and the compound Walter and Stella preside over. He remembers the diner back in what seems like a lifetime ago. The look in Walter's eye when he stood up at Big Maria's. It was distinctive. It had real weight to it. The weight of thoughts racing behind it. That was a man who understood something.

  “Those people. Those freaks. My parents and my psycho brothers. They can help us win this,” Mara says with near-tears forming in the corners of her eyes. The crushing wave of emotion rushing over her was unexpected. “They know what to do. They’re ready. My dad, he can maybe work this thing.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kate says. “Did I miss something? What do you mean they’re ready? They’re… what? They're prepared for an alien invasion?" Kate turns to Dibs. She's not familiar with all the stories about the apocalypse academy Mara grew up in. "Who the hell was ready for a shitshow like this?"

  Mara licks her lips then shakes her head. “Well, my family, I guess.”

  Kate scrunches her nose. Dibs gives her a quick hand signal across his throat to shut up while mouthing I’ll tell you later as he climbs out from the monster machine. He turns to Mara.

  “Child,” he says, as if he’s about to recite the Gettysburg Address to her.

  "Mara. Please call me Mara for fuck's sake."

  "Mara." Dibs places a caring hand on her shoulder. Makes a cozy, warm-blanket expression. Lowers his voice. “Let's go find that freak show you call a family."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Walter drops a folded stack of underwear on the living room floor.

  “Shit.” Wide swaths of white, cotton men's unmentionables litter the floor. He's got to get these clothes down to the Life Raft, and fast. Time is ticking and he's dicking around with this. “Unbelievable,” he huffs.

  As he bends down, balancing the wad of socks he has stuck under his arm, something stops him cold. Puts him into complete muscular arrest. Something outside the window, behind the red and black plaid couch, the mounted deer head and the stuffed bear. His eyes slam into an icy focus as his mouth drops. There's light glowing outside. It’s blue. An unauthorized something on his property. It’s far off, near the trees, but there’s something or someone out there.

  A silent alarm triggers inside the house. His phone lights up, almost buzzes out of his hand. A notification that something has penetrated the outer edge of his proverbial line in the sand. A red light in the living room ceiling flashes. Walter bites his lip. This is getting real as hell. He stares harder out the window, his nose almost touching the glass.

  “Oh damn,” slips from his trembling lips.

  Whatever the hell is out there, it has breached the fence line, and it's heading toward the house. Can't make out how many, but it's more than one. Multiple somethings out there. Walter lets the socks drop to the floor, scattering like bouncing rabbit pellets. He snatches the rifle up in his hand, moving on pure instinct; he didn’t even know he was grabbing it. It’s as if a fifty-caliber monster-slayer appeared in hand. Grips it so tight it might bend. Cocking his head back, he bellows out a line from his favorite film ever. “Arm yourself, you son of a bitch!” He barely gets out the bitch before he’s reached the ladder and scrambling up.

  Stella's never particularly been a fan of that line. The movie is fine, but when you do the math and consider that he's calling that particular line out to their sons, it's not extremely flattering to her. Not to mention, it leaves out their daughter. She bites her tongue about it, mainly because it was more than likely going to be a one-time phrase, and in a marriage, you have to pick your battles. But now that the end is here, it does kind of rub her the wrong way.

  She sees the blue glow outside as well. Upon closer inspection, it almost looks like a flame. Stella’s heartbeat lowers. She goes calm. She knows what to do. She hates this part, but understands the reasoning behind it. Stella wants to fight. The calm comes from knowing that it has begun. Time to get into it with whatever is out there. But she knows the bigger picture. Survival of the family. This is all about what gives the family the best odds of continuing, despite the emotions involved. The needs of the five of them. Not only the one.

  That's been the core tenet to their philosophy forever, and now that they are on the brink of the end of all things, it's no time to start changing things. This has all been worked out. No detail left undone. She moves like a bolt of lightning to the twins, removing the butcher knives from their hands that they were using to pick food from one another’s teeth like oversized, insanely dangerous toothpicks. While picking up the fallen socks and tighty-whities from the floor, she gathers the boys, shepherding them down into the Life Raft.

  Stella thinks of Mara. She’s out there. She needs to come home. Stella wipes away a tear, thinks of grabbing as many guns as she can and tearing a hole through this town until she finds her girl. Bubbling rage rises inside of her. The primal need to protect her children is squeezing like a vice on every molecule of her being. She stops, breathes in deep, then turns to the twins. She talks to them, even though she knows they may not completely understand. She needs to release what’s on her mind.

  “Mara is almost eighteen years old. We’ve raised her well, the best way we know how, and at some point you’ve got to trust in what they’ve grown up to be. Mara is a smart, strong girl. Wrong.” Stella slaps herself. The twins perk up. Stella resets, slaps herself again, harder.
“Mara is a ridiculously smart, strong woman warrior from hell, and she will come back to us or destroy everything in her path trying.” She locks eyes with the boys. “You hear me? Our girl will come back to us.”

  The twins purse their lips, simulating deep thought while nodding in unison. Stella nods back, placing her hand on the door to the Life Raft. The door seals shut like a vault at Fort Knox.

  Walter slips up the ladder and crawls out onto the roof. He peeks out, scanning the fence line. It takes him a moment to see the hole, even with his night vision goggles, but the things are there. Moving in a path through a gaping hole in his beloved fence. Walter remembers putting it up. He, Mara and Stella did it one summer. Took weeks, but it was so worth it. Mara was so young then. Walter shakes his emotions loose. Not the time, dammit. He calmly counts nine figures along the fence line. Some big, some small. Some look human, others don’t. Some even look vaguely like people he knows. Hard to tell at this distance. Some look like slick-skinned monsters that need to be blasted into smithereens.

  “Queen Bee?” Walter talks low into his old-school walkie. “You locked down?”

  There’s a crack and a hiss, then, “We are indeed.”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking. Mara? She’s a strong, smart—”

  “Already covered that, Walter. Do what you’ve got to do and let’s win this.”

  “Affirmative.” Tears form in the corners of his eyes. So proud.

  Walter moves to get himself and the fifty-caliber rifle settled on the roof. He takes a moment to calm himself, trying to slow his thudding heartrate. Can’t allow weakness to affect his aim. A shaky man can’t fire a straight shot. Walter squeezes his hands tight then shakes them hard, working out the shakes. Waiting for his vibrating digits to calm seems to take forever, but it’s only seconds. He holds his hands out straight in front of him. Steady as a rock. Walter smiles.

  Pulling off his night vision goggles, he readies the fifty-caliber. Breathes in deep through his mouth then exhales through his nose. Counts to three. He punches a button on a remote. Massive floodlights along the house and a few scattered around the compound blink once then blast on. Bright, cutting beams bathe his fenced-in field with a brilliant white light.