Those They Betrayed Page 8

  There were riots in Rochester, and the rioters tore through their house and destroyed their things and they had to flee for their lives. The city is in a state of chaos, and its inhabitants, out of desperation, have gone through the neighborhood looting, looking for anything that can help them through this terrible crisis. Elizabeth walked outside, unaware of the terrible sickness that had befallen so many the night before. They swarmed her before she was even able to react, and after they had finished with her, they tore their way through the house, and did the same with Glenn and Roselyn.

  He was pulled out of his spiraling despair by the grating sound of Infected hitting the window. Apparently, all the commotion that Logan had been causing, the noise he had made as he uttered orders to his holo, and called out for his children, had attracted some of the monsters outside.

  Logan covered his mouth with his hand. He sank in the corner of the room, hoping that if he was quiet enough, they would eventually grow bored and go looking for their breakfast somewhere else.

  All the while, he kept repeating the same words in his mind, a silent prayer for the safety of his children. Please be ok. Please be ok. Please be ok. Please be ok.

  Despair overtook him, and he had to bite down on his knuckles to stifle a sob, lest he attract more attention from the Infected. He sat there, absolutely silent, trying to compose himself, until it sounded as though the Infected had wandered off.

  He got to his feet and ran up the stairs. He went down the hallway. The sight of the mirror, having been such a fearsome thing to behold just a few minutes before, didn’t cause him the slightest discomfort now that he had come face to face with real-life terrors.

  He walked into his room and grabbed a backpack from the closet. He walked around in a circle, grabbing everything he thought he would need, and stuffed it all into the bag. He threw in all the ammo he had for his revolver. He put his combat knife in it, his handcuffs in it, his Taser, and, of course, all the bottles of mood stabilizers that he could find.

  As he stepped cautiously back down the stairs, he found his thoughts wandering. Every strategy he could think of for how to get out of the house without being seen crossed his mind. Most were rejected instantly. He could never go out the front door. With as many Infected as there were outside, he would be dead in an instant. The situation was the same with any of the front-facing windows and the garage. His only hope was to slip out the back, through the door or a window. He chose to try going out the door first.

  As he walked to the back of the house, he made a conscious effort to keep every footfall as light as possible. It wouldn’t have done him any good to get out of the house if he attracted all the Infected on the block along the way. He was just about at the door when he heard the clank of a cabinet door shutting in the kitchen.

  Logan froze in place and listened closely. There was someone there in the house with him. Was it an Infected? A looter? He pulled his revolver out of its holster and, as quietly as he could, cocked it and readied himself to shoot. Of course, if it was an Infected, it seemed as though even a gun wouldn’t be good enough. But what else could he do? He would have to just cross that bridge when he came to it.

  He inched down the hallway. He came to the corner of the kitchen and kneeled down, peeking past the door frame just enough to locate the intruder. He saw their legs beneath the island in the middle of the kitchen, but that was all he could make out from that perspective.

  He wrapped his finger around the trigger of his gun and bolted out, pointing it right at the intruder. He was just about to shoot, but something, whether instinct or subconscious reasoning, told him not to fire. Another millisecond passed, and his conscious mind caught up with his reflexes, letting him realize why.

  “Randell!” he exclaimed.

  Randell was standing in front of the pantry. His hands shot up in the air, and a box of snack cakes fell to the ground.

  “Don’t shoot! I give up,” he mumbled as crumbs spewed from his mouth.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Logan asked, uncocking his gun and returning it to the holster.

  “Looking for you,” Randell said like it was the most obvious answer imaginable.

  “How did you even make it in here?” Logan was dumbfounded.

  “Um… I walked. How did you make it in here?”

  “But,” Logan stuttered, “but didn’t they see you? The Infected? I was outside for less than five minutes and they nearly killed me!”

  Randell shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess they had bigger fish to fry than me. I’ll just count my blessings and try not to question it too much.”

  “Well,” Logan said somberly, “there are plenty of people outside right now that have far fewer blessings to count than you or I do. Like Mr. Jameson and Mrs. Kelly.”

  “Aw man.” Concern crossed Randell’s face. “They both bit it? I’m so sorry.”

  Logan sighed. All at once a realization came to him. He couldn’t help but feel dread at the possible implications. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, his eyes widening, “I thought you said you were going to get InstaRegen when we finished that gig.” He set his hand discretely over the holster on his belt, but remained otherwise immobile as he waited for his friend’s explanation.

  “Well, it turned out to be ungodly expensive,” Randell laughed, not noticing his posture. “I figured I’d wait until the price came down a little bit. What’s a few years compared to eternity, you know? Lucky me, I guess. So what’s the plan?”

  Logan looked at him perplexed. “What do you mean, ‘What’s the plan?’”

  “I mean,” Randell said, pointing to the backpack that was strapped to his shoulder, “how are we going to find your kids?”

  “We? You’re planning on helping me or something?”

  “Dude, we’ve known each other like our entire lives. Is that even a question, man? Of course I’m planning on helping you. Why else would I even be here?”

  Logan looked at the box on the floor and smirked. “To eat my snack cakes, apparently.”

  “Well,” Randell emphasized as he bent down to pick the box back up, “that’s just a perk of the job. But seriously, how many times did you help me out back in the day? I would have thought you’d know me better than to think that I would just abandon you as soon as the first apocalypse came my way. I’m a better friend than that, man.”

  Logan sighed, then walked around the island and patted his friend on the back. “You really are. I appreciate the offer. I do. But it’s going to be dangerous. I don’t even know where my kids are, let alone if they’re safe or not.”

  “I’m up for anything,” Randell said with a smile as he unwrapped another snack cake. “One last adventure, I say. It’s not like I have any more pressing appointments on my calendar.

  “Well,” Logan said, contemplating, “Elizabeth’s house is on the north side of Rochester. We’re lucky it’s not in the center, or south of the city. Even still, that’s 70 miles from here, and it’ll be even further if we have to go out of our way to avoid the more populated parts of Minneapolis.”

  “Ok, so we sneak outside, hop in your car, switch it to manual, and put the petal to the metal. You still remember how to drive in manual, right? If not, I’ll do it. I bet I could get us there in an hour if I really tried.”

  “No!” Logan whispered, exasperated. “We can’t drive.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Have you seen the news feed? These—these Infected, when they hear a car coming, they swarm it. That’s how Mrs. Kelly died. We’d never be able to make it down the street, let alone across the state.

  “So we have to travel quietly,” Randell contemplated.

  Logan walked past Randell and examined the window that he had used to enter the house. “I’m going to have to have a talk with my home security guy about how easily you got in here.” He shook his head and slid the window open.

  “Do it, man. Threaten to sue him. I bet he’d give you a refund.”

  Logan laughed
off his comment. “Stay close behind me. And whatever you do, don’t confront anyone that looks Infected, or sick, or the slightest bit off. You can’t take them down.”

  Randell groaned and shook his head. “Hey, you don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll be careful.”

  “Ok,” Logan sighed. He looked somberly at the picture of his children that he had attached to his fridge. “Let’s go.”

  Section IV

  The sun reflected on the car, nearly blinding Logan. He unfolded his sunglasses, placed them over his eyes,, and looked around. It was a beautiful, sunny day. It was warm for the beginning of April, but not so warm as to be unbearable. It was just the perfect weather for a little stroll.

  Logan took in a deep breath of spring air. In the old days, if he could call them that, when he had been a child, this would have been around the time when his allergies would start to act up.

  Not every gene-related therapy was completely without its merits, Logan thought. He would never be caught dead admitting that to anyone else, though, least of all his wife.

  His beautiful wife. She walked around the car and met him in the back. Even with her sunglasses on, the look of her big brown eyes sent shivers down his spine.

  He couldn’t believe the situation that he had found himself in. Their son Glenn was nearly two years old. It was so surreal to Logan. It felt like just last week when he had met Elizabeth in that coffee shop, for the first—official—time.

  Three days ago, he asked her to marry him. All the onlookers clapped so loud that the librarian had to shush them for a solid minute.

  Yesterday, he found out that he was going to be a father.

  And now, now he stood there, pulling his stroller out of the back of his vehicle, unfolding it, fastening his son in it. He was taking his baby boy for a walk in the park as if it was all normal and he was just like every other parent there.

  Of course, he wasn’t just like every other parent there. He was special. This was his family. This was his wife, his son, and that made him the luckiest man there.

  Liz flung her backpack over her shoulder. All her necessary tools for her role as a mother were there in tow. She was ready for their foray into the park.

  They had been planning this trip for a while now. They had to. Their schedules were so busy, it was amazing they even managed to get a Friday off at the same time together at all.

  Elizabeth wrapped her arm around Logan’s waist, and they headed down the sidewalk together. Logan leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, and she pulled him down to her level so that she could kiss him directly on the lips.

  In the field to their left, near the trailhead, there was a group of young men playing soccer. They were trim and muscular, and one of them had his shirt off. He was especially large. He blocked a kick on one side of the field, then kicked it high in the air. He ran across the field, passing everyone else on both teams, and retrieved the soccer ball, kicking it right past the goalie without it even touching the ground.

  “Wow,” Elizabeth gasped. “Did you see that?”

  Logan pretended as though he hadn’t been watching the scene play out in front of him. He turned his head their way with exaggerated movement and said, “A big, tall muscular man with his shirt off?” He squinted. “Yeah, I see him.”

  Elizabeth punched him in the arm. “It’s not like that, and you know it,” she laughed. “I just think it was amazing that he was capable of pulling off a play like that.”

  “Yeah. Amazing what you can do when you stack your genes in your favor, isn’t it?”

  “Just because someone does something amazing doesn’t mean they’re automatically modded,” Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes.

  “I never said that him doing something amazing means that he’s modded. Being made out of 240 pounds of pure muscle and running across the field that fast at the same time means he’s modded.”

  Logan heard a commotion and looked to see a member of the opposite team running up and yelling in the man’s face. The man lifted him up off the ground. He held him over his head, then threw him over the rest of the opposing team that had gathered.. He then began to charge, but his own teammates jumped into action. They each took a limb and struggled to keep him restrained.

  “You want to tell me again how he’s just naturally talented?” Logan smiled, then walked off.

  Elizabeth kept watching the scene, then chased after her husband. “Not everyone that’s violent automatically has a gene mod, either, you know?”

  “And not everyone that has a gene mod is automatically violent, huh?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But,” Logan said, lifting his hand from the back of the stroller and pointing it up to highlight his point, “wouldn’t you be so much more impressed if someone spent the time to eat right, work out, diet, lift weights, practice, and win legitimately?”

  “You know what, you’re right. So when are you gonna start lifting weights, Mr. Flubby?” She squeezed him in the stomach, pinching a small amount of accumulated fat between her fingers.

  “I may have put on a couple pounds since we got married,” Logan said defensively, covering his stomach with his hand, “but you didn’t seem to mind last night, now did you?”

  “Hey, hey, hey! Those details are non-admissible,” she protested with a smile.

  She leaned toward him as they walked on. Logan reached down for another kiss, and she pretended to oblige him, but bit playfully on his lip at the last second, yanking it down then releasing it.

  “Ow!” Logan laughed.

  “Yeah, I’m sure that was the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced in your career.” Elizabeth paused. Her eyes went to a building at the head of the trail. “Hey, can we stop for a second so I can use the restroom?”

  “Sure,” Logan replied. He changed direction, making a beeline for the restroom facility.

  “They have one of those ice cream trucks on the other side of the parking lot. Maybe you could go get a cone for each of us.”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” Logan smiled. “I can’t believe they even still have those old-fashioned ice cream trucks at the park. These days you’d think they’d just install a dispenser and that would be that. You know,” Logan let his eyes blur as he looked toward the rising sun, “I always dreamt of my son being able to enjoy the simple things in life like that, just like I did.”

  “Your dreams are all coming true,” Liz said, smiling. “Now, I really have to go. You know what I like, right?”

  “Well, let’s see.” Logan raised his brow quizzically and looked around. “Friday. Mid-spring. Blue skies. You want chocolate chip with sprinkles and peanuts.”

  “Bingo!”

  A moment later, Elizabeth was gone.

  “Mommy,” Glenn whimpered at her disappearance.

  “It’s ok,” Logan said, patting him reassuringly on the head. “In the meantime, let’s go get some ice cream!“

  “Yay!” Glenn exclaimed.

  Logan pushed the stroller across the parking lot back to where the ice cream truck was located.

  There was a long line of customers waiting for ice cream. It seemed like everyone was excited to greet the changing seasons with open arms. It was a welcome reprieve after a long, drawn out winter, even in Logan’s books.

  The line moved swiftly as each customer had their payment chips scanned, then received their frozen treats. Finally, Logan found himself next in line. He glanced behind him and saw half a dozen people had joined the line since he had gotten there, and it was continuing to grow.

  The person in front of him received his ice cream and walked off. Logan pushed the stroller up and positioned it on the side of the truck as he placed his order. He handed over the payment chip to the cashier.

  He barely even registered the shouting until it was too late

  “Logan! He has Glenn! Logan!”

  Logan jolted around and saw a stranger in a hoodie running away with Glenn in his arms, one hand muffling his mouth. Logan co
uldn’t see his face or any of his features. He only knew the man was short.

  Logan ran after him as fast as he could, but the kidnapper was much faster than him. He was getting away. Logan knew that if he didn’t act right now, the man would disappear with his son for good.

  Logan reached under his jacket and pulled his revolver from its holster. He cocked it and aimed down the sights. He settled lined them up with the man’s left leg. He took in a deep breath.

  “What are you doing?” Elizabeth shouted, slamming into him.

  She twisted his wrist, and the gun went off in the ground, spraying them with dirt and grass.

  “Elizabeth! I had him!”

  “You had him?” Elizabeth screamed, stomping her foot on the ground. “You were aiming a gun at our son!”

  Everyone was looking at the scene in shock. A few people had their PH’s out, obviously dialing the authorities.

  “I wasn’t going to hit Glenn!” Logan slapped his free palm against his forehead. “What type of father do you think I am?”

  “I thought you were the type of father who wouldn’t point a loaded weapon at his own child, let alone pull the trigger!” Elizabeth walked off huffing.

  “Nobody move!” a voice shouted from behind Logan.

  Logan reached into his pocket and pulled out his ID badge.

  A couple peace officers came running around the ice cream truck with their guns trained on Logan. “Lower the weapon, now!”

  Logan calmly lowered himself to his knees, holding the gun harmlessly by the handle. “I’m a licensed carrier in all 7 districts, no restrictions,” he said as calmly and smoothly as he could.

  He flipped open his ID badge to reveal to the peace officers that was he was telling them was the truth. He looked toward where the abductor had run off to, but saw no one there. He furiously punched the dirt, then pushed himself back up so he could explain the situation to the officers.