influenza, but one that didn't act like the ones they were familiar with. "Their brains formed lesions, which Frank said led to amnesia, muscle spasms, changes in personality, confabulations-"
"Sorry, what the fuck are confabulations?"
"The inability to separate dreams from waking life."
"Great. That's great. You know what, we can finish this creepy, little chat later, right now I'd like to get out of this goddamn basement. Sound good?"
"Fine."
I turned. "Jeremiah?"
Without picking his head up, he raised one, big hand and extended a thumbs up, though I doubted he'd heard a word we said. Alison and I helped him up and he continued on with us down the dark hallway. He was running on pure strength combined with stubbornness at this point. A lesser man would have laid down and died by this point.
I certainly did.
We made our way through the basement and up the stairs that led to the private back entrance where the players usually came into the club room. As I expected, it hadn't been locked or barricaded by the army. There wasn't much reason to block a door no one would get to in the first place. But they didn't know they'd be dealing with a dipshit like me.
Crowded in the small area by the private entrance, we gathered ourselves up before we took the next step. After what came next, there was no going back. Breaking out of a military quarantine would make us wanted criminals on a level none of us was prepared for, but quite frankly it beat being eaten alive by the worsening group of Bleeders they'd stuck us in with. Even now, with all the distance we'd put between us and the field, we could hear the screams and banging of the crowd as they started tearing the place apart.
I looked back at Alison. "Those fuckers are pissed. I guess it's better they're in here than out there."
"You really think it's any better out there?"
"Even if it's not, there's a few hundred less of them now."
"It doesn't matter."
"Anyone ever tell you you're a real downer," I asked. She didn't answer. I tried the door that led outside- unlocked. "See? It's not all bad."
I swung the door open and stepped forward into the night. Blocking our way out was a group of military vehicles parked up on the sidewalk, with them a scattering of armed soldiers, including Skull-head himself- my old friend, Private Simmons.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I ducked back inside and shut the door in a hurry before Simmons or any of the other soldiers could spot me. Then I looked back at the waiting eyes of Alison and Jeremiah.
"Well," Alison asked.
"It's bad."
Alison shook her head. In the distance, the Bleeders were getting crazier. They sounded like they were on the verge of an all-out riot. For all the noise they were making, you'd think the Red Sox had just won on free beer night. "So we're stuck," Alison said.
"You told me the army pulled out hours ago."
"Well I guess not all of them, huh?"
"Don't do that."
"What?"
"The sarcastic thing. Don't do that. That's my thing."
She rolled her eyes and checked on Jeremiah, who was looking green in the face. We needed to find him somewhere to lay down fast, before his strength and stubbornness ran out.
"We need a distraction," I said. "Something big to draw them away. Maybe if we set up fireworks, you know? On a remote, or a timer?"
Alison looked back at me from looking in Jeremiah's eyes. "What are you talking about? Where are you getting fireworks?"
"This is a stadium, they use fireworks all the time."
"Think of something else."
I scratched my head. "I'm just spit-balling here, alright? I don't see you coming up with anything better."
"Scratch the blood," Jeremiah suddenly said, his bloodshot eyes staring into space. We waited but he said nothing else.
"Thanks," I said, "that's a big help."
As I tried to think of a better plan- though I hadn't totally given up on the fireworks thing- a large crash came from somewhere inside the stadium. It was
"Sorry, what the fuck are confabulations?"
"The inability to separate dreams from waking life."
"Great. That's great. You know what, we can finish this creepy, little chat later, right now I'd like to get out of this goddamn basement. Sound good?"
"Fine."
I turned. "Jeremiah?"
Without picking his head up, he raised one, big hand and extended a thumbs up, though I doubted he'd heard a word we said. Alison and I helped him up and he continued on with us down the dark hallway. He was running on pure strength combined with stubbornness at this point. A lesser man would have laid down and died by this point.
I certainly did.
We made our way through the basement and up the stairs that led to the private back entrance where the players usually came into the club room. As I expected, it hadn't been locked or barricaded by the army. There wasn't much reason to block a door no one would get to in the first place. But they didn't know they'd be dealing with a dipshit like me.
Crowded in the small area by the private entrance, we gathered ourselves up before we took the next step. After what came next, there was no going back. Breaking out of a military quarantine would make us wanted criminals on a level none of us was prepared for, but quite frankly it beat being eaten alive by the worsening group of Bleeders they'd stuck us in with. Even now, with all the distance we'd put between us and the field, we could hear the screams and banging of the crowd as they started tearing the place apart.
I looked back at Alison. "Those fuckers are pissed. I guess it's better they're in here than out there."
"You really think it's any better out there?"
"Even if it's not, there's a few hundred less of them now."
"It doesn't matter."
"Anyone ever tell you you're a real downer," I asked. She didn't answer. I tried the door that led outside- unlocked. "See? It's not all bad."
I swung the door open and stepped forward into the night. Blocking our way out was a group of military vehicles parked up on the sidewalk, with them a scattering of armed soldiers, including Skull-head himself- my old friend, Private Simmons.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I ducked back inside and shut the door in a hurry before Simmons or any of the other soldiers could spot me. Then I looked back at the waiting eyes of Alison and Jeremiah.
"Well," Alison asked.
"It's bad."
Alison shook her head. In the distance, the Bleeders were getting crazier. They sounded like they were on the verge of an all-out riot. For all the noise they were making, you'd think the Red Sox had just won on free beer night. "So we're stuck," Alison said.
"You told me the army pulled out hours ago."
"Well I guess not all of them, huh?"
"Don't do that."
"What?"
"The sarcastic thing. Don't do that. That's my thing."
She rolled her eyes and checked on Jeremiah, who was looking green in the face. We needed to find him somewhere to lay down fast, before his strength and stubbornness ran out.
"We need a distraction," I said. "Something big to draw them away. Maybe if we set up fireworks, you know? On a remote, or a timer?"
Alison looked back at me from looking in Jeremiah's eyes. "What are you talking about? Where are you getting fireworks?"
"This is a stadium, they use fireworks all the time."
"Think of something else."
I scratched my head. "I'm just spit-balling here, alright? I don't see you coming up with anything better."
"Scratch the blood," Jeremiah suddenly said, his bloodshot eyes staring into space. We waited but he said nothing else.
"Thanks," I said, "that's a big help."
As I tried to think of a better plan- though I hadn't totally given up on the fireworks thing- a large crash came from somewhere inside the stadium. It was
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