Humanity's Hope (Book 1): Camp H Page 2
“Yeah, whatcha need?”
“Well first, did you get a look at your attacker?”
“Not really. Happened too fast. I saw my cat on the table, and when I turned around to see what happened, the thing was already on top of me. I tripped over something and fell back, and all I remember was its teeth coming at my face. It looked like that damn thing was trying to bite me. Then nothing, everything went black. I opened my eyes and y’all are here. I must’ve hit my head, ’cause it’s hurting something fierce.”
The cop waved a man over. “Well, you got your neighbor here to thank for saving your life. Seems he heard the window break in your apartment and he went to get his gun. You must’ve walked in while he was doing that, ’cause by the time he got here your assailant was on top of you. Your neighbor corroborated your statement. Said it looked like your attacker was biting you or something. Well, anyway, he fired two shots into the guy, and then he bolted back out your window and down the alley.”
“Damn. I don’t know how to react to that.” Martin looked over at Ralph with a look of appreciation. “Ralph, dude, I don’t even know how to thank you.”
“I’m going to let you go back to the paramedic then,” said the cop. “I think I got everything I need. I’m going to write this up and I will have an officer stay in the area tonight just in case your attacker comes back.”
“Whoa! You mean you haven’t caught him yet?”
“Not yet. Just a matter of time, though. If your neighbor’s right, this man took two to the chest or gut. We haven’t found any bullets in here, so they had to have hit him. He couldn’t have gone far. It’s not a matter of if, but when we find him.”
Martin returned to the paramedic. “Okay what’s the prognosis, Doc?”
“Well, I’m gonna bandage you up and get you ready for transport to the hospital. We need to get you a CT scan and make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
“Naw, man,” Martin answered. “I’m okay. I just got a little bump; nothing an ice pack and some aspirin won’t fix. If you need me to sign something to cover your ass, I’m game. I just don’t need any more bills right now. And besides, I think I’ll be okay. I’ve taken harder hits on the basketball court than this. I’ve got a hard head.”
The EMT nodded and left to get some paperwork.
“Hey, Ralph, dude, I can’t say thanks enough, man,” Martin said, turning to his neighbor. “I know we ain’t been real tight over the years, but you definitely got a return favor tonight. By the way, how did you know to come save the day?”
“Well, I was sitting there watching Jeopardy, when I heard the window break. I peeked out and saw him sliding into your apartment. I guess you came home while I was getting my gun.”
“Did you at least get a good look at him?”
Ralph shrugged his shoulders. “No. I came through the door and it was dark. I could definitely tell he was white, but that was it. I figured I’d shoot the one who wasn’t black, and I’d be safe with that. So I put the first shot in his back. He jumped up and I popped him again, center mass, maybe lower abdomen. He screamed and bolted back out the window. By then enough noise had been made … and somebody else called the cops. The rest you woke up for.” Ralph glanced at the front door. “I’m gonna go get a much needed drink. Are you okay? Need anything?”
“No. I’m good, but thanks again. I’m serious, though, you earned a return favor. Anything, man, anything.”
Ralph smiled. “Hey, man, if you need me, I’m right next door. I’ll leave you to the EMTs. Now don’t forget to holler if something comes up.” Ralph turned and left just as the EMT reentered with the paperwork.
After 20 more minutes and what seemed like 50 signatures, the EMT left, shutting the door on his way out. Martin was finally alone and able to get to the arduous task of cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, namely the removal of his longtime feline buddy, Oscar. “Well, this sucks, bud. I’m sorry it had to end like this.”
He grabbed a large trash bag and slowly slid Oscar inside. After tying the bag shut, he decided he needed to attend to himself. His head began to throb and the bite wound was started to burn a little. He sat the bag that would be Oscar’s final resting place out on the back stoop next to the broken window and headed back to the kitchen. After he downed four aspirin, he flopped onto the couch.
“Give me five minutes, Oscar. Let me catch my breath, and I will take care of ya.” Martin then leaned back onto the couch and closed his eyes.
CHAPTER 5
JUNE 9TH
The Guys
“Bullshit!” David snapped as he slapped his cards down on the game table. “That’s twice you’ve pulled an inside straight on the river. I give up. Lady Luck is putting it to me tonight.”
Kyle reached in and scooped up his winnings as he smiled his trademark shit-eating grin. “Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. But me, I always win. Sucka.” The man’s cackling laugh filled the room.
“Deal me out,” said David. “I’m gonna stretch my legs for a minute and get some air. Think I’ll check the bushes out back and see if they need a good watering. When I’m done killing the bushes, I’ll be ready to get my money back from ya. I promised the kid we’d go to the movies tomorrow, but right now, if things don’t turn around, I don’t think I’ll be able to pay for the damn tickets.” David started to make his way outside.
“Wow, you’re down a whole five bucks,” Kyle quipped. “You sure you’re going to be able to pay the mortgage at this rate?”
“Keep laughing,” David said. “It always comes back around.” He whistled for the dog to come as he reached the door to the backyard. “Might as well kill two birds while I’m going out. Come on, Storm, keep me company while we water the flowers, ol’ girl.” The white German Shepherd rose from where she’d been snoozing and bolted out the door ahead of David.
“Well, guys, I think I’ll hit the head, too.” Kyle took to his feet. “Let’s take a break and give ol’ sour-puss a chance to cool off. We’ll get down to some serious poker when he gets back. Maybe raise the blinds to 25 and 50 cents.”
The whole gang let out a collective “Ooooh!”
“Big money there,” said Ron. “You better watch it. If Sam finds out you’re winning, she’ll make you take her and the kids to the movies, too. And you know how much you hate going to the theater.”
“Not gonna happen,” Kyle answered. “I spent too much money on all that audio/video equipment just to pay to go sit in a theater with a bunch of people. Besides, they always frown and ask me to leave when I take my pants off to get comfortable.”
“You ain’t right man,” Josey, Ron’s wife, chimed in as she smiled and shook her head. “I’m gonna step out back and get a smoke in before the next round.”
Everyone slid away from the table and migrated to different spots around the house and yard. Kenny and Dale headed for the nachos, while 9-finger Brian peeked into the living room to try and discern what the women were laughing so loudly about. Ron and Josey joined David out back.
“Hey! You shake it more than twice that’s playing with it!” Ron shouted to David as he stood in the corner of the yard and lit up one of his habitual cigars. They used to all joke that if David didn’t have a cigar with him somewhere, then the world must be ending.
Satisfied the cigar was properly lit, David walked back to the porch and sat down in the chair next to Ron. “So how’s it been going, man? We haven’t had much chance to talk lately, it’s been so busy around here. I hear you’ve become quite the farmer recently.”
“Yeah,” Ron answered. “I’ve been a little busy turning the Ramsey property into Old McDonald’s farm. So far I’ve converted one whole acre into a garden, have 22 chickens running around, and got three goats delivered just this week. Gonna see about getting a cow next month, too.”
Failing to hide the laughter in his voice, David asked, “So what’s gotten you into the farming mood? You finally preparing for the collapse of civilization, like you’ve alw
ays joked about?”
“Nah. Maybe. A little I guess. I’ve just always wanted to be self-sufficient. And now that I’m with Josey and she’s cool with it, I figured, why not?”
“Hey, what’s Storm doing over there? She’s just staring at that corner of the yard.” Ron pointed at Storm. The dog was not acting like her usual happy self. She seemed to be riveted by something hidden in the shadows near the tree line of the property..
“I don’t know.” David whistled for Storm, but she completely ignored the call and continued to stand guard in the corner. David walked to the door and yelled inside, “Hey, Kyle! Your dumb dog’s losing it, man!” He then heard a very deep growl issue from Storm’s throat and saw the fur along her spine bristle just as a strange rustling sound came from the woods directly in front of the animal. “Kyle! Get out here! I think Storm is fixing to attack something in your woods … and I’m not chasing after her!”
CHAPTER 6
JUNE 8TH
Martin
The thing that had once been Martin slowly opened its eyes. However, what made him Martin wasn’t there behind those eyes anymore. Instead of recognition of his surroundings, Martin’s body noticed just one thing, a gnawing desire to eat. He stood from the couch and very sloppily started to maneuver through his apartment. As he fumbled about, he tripped over the coffee table and fell right into the center of the small table, shattering the cheaply made furniture. As he rose again off the floor, he paid no mind to the mess or the shard of wood that now protruded from his belly. It appeared as if he felt nothing other than the constant burning hunger driving him to find sustenance and feed.
Movement caught his eye and he walked over to the bookcase and quirked his head at the terrarium that held his pet turtle. The turtle had been his pet for years, but Martin no longer recognized it and it held no interest for him.
Then a scent hit his nose.
Instinctively, he knew it was the smell he was looking for.
It was meat.
It was food.
Martin spun around, and with an animalistic growl, lunged toward the back door. His feet stomped through the broken glass he’d never swept up from the earlier intrusion, and attacked. The smaller bits of glass burrowed into his heels as the larger pieces sliced deep lacerations into the balls of his feet. He paid no attention to the trauma, so focused was he on the scent of meat he had just picked up. Like a crazed animal, he stopped and sniffed the air in an effort to pinpoint the exact location of the meal he scented. He jutted from side to side, and then caught the scent again. Able to smell that what he craved was just beyond his grasp, Martin tried to move forward to reach his prize. He slammed into the back door, but was repelled by its hard wooden surface. Once again, he slammed into the solid mass, and once again he was knocked backwards.
He then oriented on the broken window next to the door and started to climb through it, all knowledge of the simple use of the doorknob gone from his mind. The glass from the broken window sliced through his skin as he exited the apartment. The shard of wood protruding from his belly got hung up on the window frame and tore the hole open even further. His hands were cut on the remaining glass in the sill, and again, Martin felt no pain from the injuries. At that point, the only thing that mattered was finding the source of the smell and getting to the food. Martin continued to thrash through the window until he made it through and fell to the ground. He stumbled back up to his unsteady feet and spun around to aim himself towards the location of the scent that had so attracted him.
And there it was at his feet.
He lunged for the plastic bag on the ground next to the back door, tore the plastic open, and found the source of the meaty aroma. It was the remains of poor Oscar that had attracted his attention. Martin no longer saw his beloved Oscar, his feline companion for the past 10-years, which was evident by the shear ferocity with which he devoured the cooling carcass of the cat.
Martin found the meal unsatisfying and only stopped when another tantalizing scent filled his nostrils. This one so strong that it overrode his desire to finish the meal at hand and urged him to follow his nose. Martin tossed the remaining piece of Oscar to the side as clumps of hair and crushed bone thudded in a sticky wet mess to the ground. He turned towards the alley in the direction of the newest aroma and followed his heightened sense of smell. The alley dead-ended at a very tall fence with barbed wire encircling the top. On the other side was a large field that stretched several football field lengths across to another fence that matched the one now blocking his path.
On the other side of that fence was the Kansas City International Airport.
Martin didn’t care about the fences or what was beyond them. All he cared for was the tantalizing scents that rolled his way over the breeze from whatever lay beyond the barrier. Martin tried to climb the first fence, but he no longer possessed the knowledge needed to achieve the climb, let alone the coordination. He wandered down the side of the fence until he came to a gate. The gate was old, but it was held firmly in place by a chain and padlock. He grabbed the gate and shook it violently but the gate held. As he rattled the gate, a rock rolled under a small opening at the bottom. Had Martin still been able to reason, he would have noticed the opening was too small for a normal-sized man to squeeze through.
Regardless, Martin struggled to force his body into the gap in the gate until a loud pop was heard as his shoulder dislocated, allowing him, finally, to squeeze through. Again, Martin felt nothing. The pain in his shoulder should’ve been enough to stop any human being, but it turned out to be exactly what he needed to get through the hole. After he wiggled through the gate, Martin stumbled to his feet and proceeded to the other side of the field.
With his dislocated shoulder, sliced feet, legs, and hands, and a small piece of wood protruding from his stomach, Martin wasn’t fazed or even slowing down. As he arrived at the other side of the field, he was again delayed by another large chain-link fence and gate. However, instead of employing the same tactic that worked before, he mindlessly ran into the gate, over and over and over, as if the previous situation had never happened. As he continued to slam into the gate over and over again, the old rusty hinges started to give way until finally, they snapped apart. The bottom of the gate bowed inward and Martin quickly slid through the opening.
He stood and sniffed the air and reoriented himself to the origin of the smell that beckoned him closer. He moved towards the scent, but at a slower pace because of the damage sustained by his prolonged attack against the second gate. He had filleted a good bit of the skin off his hands and a little off the right side of his face, but that didn’t even register. The only thing that mattered was the overpowering desire to eat the source of the smell.
He slowly made his way through the small wooded area that provided a buffer zone between the airport common area and the residential area from which he came. He stumbled onto the asphalt as he left the trees behind. His sense of smell exploded with an overpowering fragrance of meats as he saw before him a smorgasbord of meal opportunities as they scurried around. Some were getting into and out of cars. Some were standing in lines as they waited for luggage. And others just milled around talking on phones or with each other. None of that mattered, not to him. All he knew was that he would eat soon. He lunged with all his strength toward the unsuspecting masses.
They didn’t know what was coming, but very shortly they would never forget that day.
CHAPTER 7
JUNE 9TH
Kyle
Storm barked at the darkened corner of the backyard. It wasn’t the kind of bark where a dog was just letting you know they were there, but rather the kind of ferocious barking that said to come one step closer would mean you would no longer have a leg to take another step. The growling barks were loud and fierce enough that Kyle bolted out the back door to see what the commotion wasall about.
“Storm, come here, girl, get your ass over here!” The dog ignored the command. He shut the door behind him and charged
into the yard determined to get the dog to shut up. “Damn dog. I think she’s finally losing it.” Making it over to the dog, Kyle reached down to grab her collar, but she evaded his hand and started to jump up at the nearly five-foot-high chain-link fence. Kyle then made a second attempt to at grabbing the collar, and succeeded.
“Storm, down,” he commanded. The Shepherd reluctantly settled down but was still very anxious and focused on the fence. Kyle shook her by the collar and yelled a couple of sit and down commands. “Damn it, dog. It’s probably just a raccoon or something. What’s wrong with you?”
Kyle’s commands did nothing to calm the animal. Instead, she continued to snarl and display her teeth as slobber dripped from her mouth. It was then Kyle noticed the hair on her back was completely on end. “All right, girl. All right. Let me see if I can find out what’s got you all riled up.”
Kyle turned his attention to David and Ron on the porch. “David, go to the pantry and grab the Maglite and the pellet gun. We gotta chase off whatever’s out there or Storm is never gonna settle down.”
David turned to go inside. By this time, Ron had made his way over to Kyle to see if he could lend a hand. David, followed by Dale and Kenny, quickly returned through the door with the flashlight and pellet gun.
Kyle took the flashlight, let go of Storm, and turned the light on. As he aimed the light into the darkness, Storm let out an ear shattering bark, and then lunged at the fence, knocking the light out of Kyle’s hand. As Kyle reached down to grab the it, he noticed it was pointing directly at the fence. Framed in the flashlight’s glow, he saw a very nice pair of dress shoes just on the other side of the fence. These were no ordinary shoes from a bargain store, but a very expensive pair of square-toed name-brand shoes. He picked up the light and continued to shine it on the shoes, all the while trying to puzzle out why a pair of shoes would be there in the first place.