The Mayflower Project: Deconstruction Book Two (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller) Read online

  “Fair point. You know of any place we might be able to find a car without getting killed?”

  “A car? What would you need a car for?” Carl asked as he stood up and walked toward me.

  “Gotta get going pretty soon,” I replied and took a few steps back.

  Carl laughed. “It’s not safe out there, especially now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Carl looked at me like I’d asked him the strangest question in the world. He wrinkled his nose then let out a loud grunt and dropped his head into his hands.

  “Of course…of course you didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know what?” I asked.

  “You were sleeping, all of you were,” he paused and looked back toward Brent. “He needed more medicine. He was sick, very, very sick. Sandra said she’d go out, it was that or let your friend die. It seemed safe enough, it was quiet and I’m better with the shotgun.”

  He paused and glanced toward the corner where a rifle was propped up against the wall. I followed his eyes and in my head tried to calculate the odds of me making it to it before he did.

  “Besides,” he started again. “She knew what she was looking for. There’s a pharmacy across the street, it’s not far…it’s not far at all. I could’ve gone, but probably would’ve brought back the wrong thing you see.”

  I leaned forward as he spoke. My palms had started to sweat and my throat was dry. Something about the way he said his words sent chills down my arms. His raspy voice croaked and I swallowed like a dry creek bed.

  “We were wrong, it wasn’t safe. She got back with the medicine, but she’d been stabbed. She bled out…while you were sleeping.”

  “What?” I asked with a shocked face.

  “Slept through it all, the whole lot of you. It’s nice to be so secure ain’t it?”

  I didn’t know what to say as I looked at him. His entire demeanor had changed. He’d gone from being optimistic to angry and even bitter. I wasn’t the most familiar with southern customs, but it sure sounded like he was blaming me for Sandra’s death.

  “Where is she?” I asked him, almost afraid of what the answer would be.

  “There’s a small field, behind the fence in the alley. I buried here there, but don’t worry…your friend is gonna be fine, he’s gonna be just fine.”

  “Did we do something to you Carl?”

  “Do something to me, what do you mean?”

  “Never mind…um, Sandra is really dead? I just, I just can’t believe it. I’m, I’m sorry for your loss.” My words felt empty, but I was never good at that sort of thing and it was even harder now. “Do you need my help with anything?”

  “Now you want to help? Sandra could’ve used it last night, but now we’re on lockdown.”

  “What?!”

  “I told you, it’s far too dangerous out there.”

  As he spoke I glanced back toward the door. There was a thick metal rod bolted to it. It ran from the door into the actual wall like an oversized bolt.

  “We’re on lock down,” he said again angrily.

  There was a ruffling behind me and I turned around. Jake was up. He was yawning and had a blank look on his face. It seemed like the perfect time for him to say something stupid that would get us all killed.

  “What’s going on?” he asked in a groggy voice.

  Carl looked at me then to Jake. I stepped forward and grabbed Jake by the arm and led him back toward the room.

  “Let’s check on Cindy,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Just come on. We’ll be right back Carl.”

  I dragged Jake away as Carl stared suspiciously. Once we rounded the corner I stopped and looked back to make sure Carl hadn’t followed us.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jake growled.

  “Shh!” I snapped. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Well start talking.”

  “Carl is crazy is what’s going on. He locked us in here.”

  “What?”

  “He says he’s put the place on lockdown. Says it’s too dangerous to go out and….and then he told me--”

  “Fucking great,” Jake groaned. “Can this get any worse?”

  “I’m serious Jake.”

  “I am too. What do you want me to do? We don’t have any weapons. Hell, we lost our bags back there in the alley. We’re screwed, completely screwed.”

  “Sandra’s dead.”

  “What!”

  “Says she died last night, getting medicine for Brent. I think he killed her.”

  Jake’s grin evaporated. He took a deep breath and held up his hands. “What the hell are we gonna do?”

  “What’s wrong?” Cindy asked as she walked up behind us with a terrified look on her face.

  Jake turned and shook his head from side to side. Cindy gave him an odd look then glared at me.

  “We need to talk,” I told her.

  CHAPTER 16

  EVERYONE IS A PRISONER IN THEIR OWN MIND

  It’d been two days since we arrived at Carl’s place. Two days that seemed like two months. We’d been tip-toeing around, trying to stay out of Carl’s way, but things were only getting stranger.

  Carl had a room near the main door. It was down a long, narrow hall with no lighting. When he wasn’t barking orders at us he spent his time in there with his door closed.

  Late at night we could hear muffled voices coming from his room. It sounded like he was arguing with someone, but he could’ve just as easily been singing. All I knew is that we had to get out.

  It felt like prison. Every minute spent second guessing your decisions and looking over you back. Carl was everywhere and he was always armed, lurking in corners, staring us down like he was picking his next target.

  “So, we need the key on his belt and we have to figure out how to power down the magnet in his room,” Brent reiterated.

  He’d come around a day ago and while he was still moving slow, he’d made a remarkable improvement. I’d caught him up on everything he’d missed and besides the initial shock he was taking it rather well.

  “We just need to kill him,” Jake replied through gritted teeth.

  “Yeah, which one of us is an assassin now? Idiot!” I glared at him.

  “He’s right,” Cindy suddenly said. “That’s the only way we can get out of here. You said it yourself Max, he’s not gonna let us go.”

  Huffing, I stared at Cindy and thought about our options. Time was ticking away and I knew we had to leave soon, one way or the other. Every minute here, was a minute closer to death, but we needed to think things through.

  "Y'all are gonna have to start pulling your weight around here,” Carl called out. “I got some barrels that need to be moved in the back room. Why don’t you three go ahead and grab those and Cindy can help me in the kitchen.”

  “No!” Cindy mouthed.

  I looked back to the corner and Carl hadn’t made it around yet. “This is it,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “If you can keep him occupied we can get the hell out of here. Brent can search the room for a switch or something to the lock.”

  Cindy glared at me, but we didn’t have a choice. She was about to say something when Carl stepped around the corner and shot suspicious look.

  “I don’t like repeating myself much,” he growled.

  “Brent's not quite up to speed," I said. "Me and Jake will handle it so Brent can rest…if, if that’s okay with you."

  Carl shifted his eyes to Brent. He stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time and to Brent’s credit he really did look like shit. Whether he was playing it up or he was still at death’s door, it worked to our advantage.

  “You rest,” Carl started. “We don’t need you getting sick again, ain’t nobody here to fix you this time.”

  I leaned into Brent and whispered, "Once we’re gone you need to get in the room and find the button for the lock."

  "Well come on,” Carl grumbled. “Let me show you wher
e you going."

  We followed Carl down the hall and into a back room we hadn’t been before. There was an odd smell like something had gone bad years ago and the room was never completely cleaned. It was dark and there were puddles of standing water scattered around the concrete floor.

  Carl felt his way down the wall to a light switch. He flicked it on and a dim orange glow did its best to brighten the room. Against the back wall there were stacks of wooden barrels. Carl walked towards them and placed his hand against one.

  "This is where we store all the food. All the shit you and your friends keep eating. Pretty soon we’re gonna need more and you fellas are gonna have to help with that too. But for right now, just move 10 of these barrels to the dining room. And be careful they’re real heavy and the floor can be slippery.”

  With that Carl left. I stared after him until I was certain he was out of earshot. Then I slid a barrel to the center of the floor and sat on it.

  "You trust him in there with Cindy?” Jake asked.

  "He's not that far away, I'm sure if something was going on we'd hear them. Besides, we gotta keep him occupied so Brent can search the room.”

  "You're the boss."

  I cut my eyes at Jake and started to push the barrel toward the dining room. Carl wasn't lying when he said they were heavy. Each barrel had to weigh more than 100 pounds. It took us nearly an hour to move them all.

  Jake wasn’t much help. He whined the entire time, stopping every five minutes to look at invisible blisters on his hand or complain about his back. When we finally finished, I’d moved eight barrels in total, while Jake had helped with two.

  “How did it go?” I asked Brent as we made our way back to the room.

  He was laying on the cot with his arms crossed over his chest. He eyes were glued to the ceiling and didn’t move when he spoke. He looked like he was meditating.

  “We have to leave tonight,” he said in a dry, deep voice. “As soon as we can. We have to kill him and leave tonight.”

  I glanced at Jake and his face was a mirror. He was as confused as I was and probably just as scared. Brent was the rational one, but something had changed.

  “What did we miss?” I asked. “You feeling okay? Did you find the switch for the door?”

  Brent rolled over and sat up. He glared at me with crimson eyes and cleared his throat. He had an angry look on his face and spoke with a croaky, harsh voice. “I found the switch,” he said. “And I found something else.”

  I stared at him for a moment and when he didn’t continue I asked, “You found what?”

  “That lady Sandra…the one you said saved my life.”

  “Yeah, what about her?”

  “She’s not buried out back and she wasn’t stabbed.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That crazy son of a bitch has her body wrapped in plastic in his room.”

  “What the fuck?! He’s still with Cindy now!”

  I spun and rushed out of the room. I sped around the corner, through the makeshift dining area and skid into the kitchen.

  It was empty. Carl’s dirty t-shirt was hanging from a hook on the wall, but there was no sign of Cindy.

  My heart started to quake and my hands trembled. I took a deep breath and grabbed the counter as my knees buckled. In a panic I wheeled around the empty kitchen like a mad man.

  I ran back into the hallway and stopped. From there I heard a muffled grunt. "Cindy?" I called.

  There was no answer. I waited, straining my ears, listening for the slightest of noises. I could feel the pressure of the quiet squeezing my eardrums. Like it was all around me, squashing me into a little ball.

  I called out to her again, this time screaming at the top of my lungs. I said her name over and over, my voice breaking in panic.

  "Max, I'm in here," Cindy finally called back.

  I turned my head to the left, following the sound of her voice. It sounded like it was coming from the walls and the idea of that sent me into a frenzy.

  I took a few steps backwards. My heart was exploding inside of my chest, my lungs burned as I swallowed air at a pace only meant for someone who’d just finished a marathon.

  "Max?" Cindy said again.

  That’s when I saw it. There was a short hall with a doorway at the end. It was dark and so narrow only one person could fit down it at a time.

  With a head of steam, I rushed down it and burst through the door at the end. A bright light swung toward my head and I ducked and stumbled back.

  “Max?” Cindy laughed.

  As my head cleared I started to soak in what was seeing. Cindy was balancing on top of the ladder while Carl held the base. She had a smile on her face and Carl was concentrating on keeping the ladder steady.

  "What’s wrong?" Cindy asked. “You look upset.”

  I cracked a half smile and looked up at her. “I couldn’t find you,” I said as calmly as I could.

  “Sorry chief,” Carl started. “We finished in the kitchen and I figured I’d borrow your old lady to help get some of the extra dishes down from storage. I didn’t plan on having guests.”

  “We could leave,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Carl glared at me then looked back up to Cindy. “Well, that’s enough for today. Why don’t you come on down?”

  “Okay.”

  Cindy started to step down the ladder and Carl reached up, sliding his hands up her legs as he grabbed her hips.

  “Easy does it,” he said with a creepy grin.

  Biting my tongue, I reached out and grabbed Cindy’s hand. “I got it from here,” I huffed.

  “Thanks for the help Cindy,” Carl crooned.

  “Anytime,” she replied with a cheesy smile.

  I tugged at her hand and she followed me out of the room and into the hallway. Wrinkling her face, she gave me an odd look, but I didn’t say anything. She followed me back toward our room where Brent and Jake were waiting.

  “Thank God,” Jake gasped as we walked in.

  He was pacing the floor with a wild expression on his face. He looked like he wanted to give us a hug, but clapped his hands together instead then went back to the cot and sat down.

  “What? What is going on?” Cindy asked.

  “What the hell?” I started through clenched teeth. “You and this asshole are best friends now?”

  “What are you talking about? I was supposed to keep him entertained wasn’t I? Jesus, don’t jump down my throat.”

  I swallowed and tightened my jaw. She was right and I was just overacting. I don’t know what I expected her to do to keep him occupied, but she’d done her job.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just…I’m sorry. I got a little nervous…Brent found something.”

  “Found what?”

  “He found Sandra.”

  “Oh my God! Is she okay?”

  “She’s dead. Wrapped up in a plastic bag in this room,” Brent replied. “The bastard strangled her to death.”

  “Keep your voice down,” I warned him.

  “He…he killed her?” Cindy mumbled.

  “We’re leaving tonight,” I replied.

  “How?”

  I glanced back at Brent then looked to Jake. “We’re gonna have to kill him.”

  CHAPTER 17

  FREEDOM IS PAID IN BLOOD

  We waited…

  We waited until the talking stopped. We waited until he’d shut off the lights and slammed his door shut.

  We waited…

  We waited until the only sound we could hear was his heavy snoring. We waited until the perfect moment and then we made our move.

  We’d talked ourselves into a frenzy, but in the end, we weren’t the killing type. Even now, even in this fragmented society torn apart by fear, we couldn’t bring ourselves to murder someone. We only needed to incapacitate him long enough for us to escape. We just wanted our freedom, he’d get what he deserved another way.

  It was dark, so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of
my face. It was like I was staring into nothing and my ears were busy making up the difference. Every sound, every step we took was magnified like it was a surround sound movie.

  We moved slowly, dragging our hands across the wall as we made our way toward his room. It was a terrifying few minutes. Any moment he could open the door and catch us, any moment our half-assed plan could go up in smoke and we’d be scrambling to survive.

  “Do you still hear him snoring?” Cindy whispered.

  “Yes,” I replied. “He sounds like a fucking train.”

  Brent snickered and we all stopped momentarily.

  “What are we gonna do if he’s up?”

  “Doesn’t matter. We have to get out of here. Do you want to end up like Sandra?”

  Cindy didn’t reply. Suddenly, my hand felt a different texture and I knew we were at his door. I froze as the others bunched up behind me.

  “What if it’s locked?” Jake asked.

  “It’s not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It can’t be, it’s our only way out.”

  In reality, I wasn’t sure why that question had never crossed our minds until now. The longer I sat there the more the stupidity of our plan became apparent. I was likely gonna get us killed, but we were here now so nothing else mattered.

  Fighting against the tiny voice in my head, I gripped the door knob and twisted. It moved freely and I felt the door start inward. We all took a collective breath, sucking the air from the room.

  I stepped in first. Something glowed in the corner, giving us a little better visibility. A tiny lamp on his nightstand, Carl was afraid of the dark, a fear that would be justified shortly.

  I took another step into the room to let everyone else in behind me. We huddled near the door, preparing to enact our hopeless plan.

  We’d pulled straws, well strands of hair really and Jake was the unlucky one. As Brent slipped the keys from Carl’s belt loop, Jake had the honors of clubbing Carl over the head with a board we’d pulled from the door frame. What could go wrong?

  “You ready?” I asked Brent as we moved a step closer.

  He nodded then I glanced at Jake. He gripped the board tightly, holding it next to his chest. He had a resolute look on his face, but I questioned his resolve. Among the many weak links in my plan, Jake’s part had to be the most likely to break.