The Assault: The Revealing, Infestation, Infiltration, The Fog Read online

  The thing with Brenda’s spontaneous drawings is that they usually don’t make sense until later, but she’s never wrong.

  Never.

  Which is why her sketch terrified me. Using a Magic Marker, she had drawn a spot-on image of the creatures showing detail we couldn’t see from our position. She also sketched several human figures, all half eaten. It was sickening, but not as sickening as the third image.

  “Oh, Tank.” The professor made the connection.

  The third image stung just to look at it. It was me. On the floor of some building. My chest had been ripped open and my eyes were gone. Three of the creatures squatted around me—feasting on my organs.

  I no longer cared that I was in the ladies’ room.

  Brenda began to weep. Brenda never weeps.

  CHAPTER

  7

  A Room with a Terrifying View

  I sat on the floor next to Brenda and gently took the Magic Marker from her hand. She didn’t resist. Brenda is as hard as nails. I know that’s a cliché, but the words could be chiseled on her tombstone. She doesn’t talk about her childhood, but I know enough to wonder how she turned out as wonderful as she is. She grew up street-smart and with fierceness that could cower a charging rhino. She’s also, despite all her talk and threats, a deep, loving soul.

  I may just be a college-age kid, but I know a little about people. Someone as heartbroken as Brenda didn’t need words of comfort. She needed an arm around her shoulder, and I had a big arm that could do the job, so I used it.

  Daniel moved close and sat on the other side of Brenda. He scooted close enough that his little shoulder touched her arm. He said nothing.

  No one said anything.

  The professor, who could ruin any moment, lowered himself to the floor next to me. A moment later, Andi did the same next to Daniel. There we were, five silent, shaken, confused, and frightened friends sitting on the floor of the ladies’ bathroom doing our best not to look at Brenda’s wall art.

  A few minutes later, I took another look. There I was, dead and being devoured. I wished Brenda had not been such a good artist. Based on her earlier success, it looked like I was going to die and die badly.

  Then the building shook again.

  Ten minutes or so later, we walked from the bathroom—a line of two men, two women, and a boy. In any other circumstance, people would have thought it strange. If they did now, they didn’t say so. The crowd had separated into small clumps of people. Some stood as couples; others in small gatherings of four or so.

  I spied the mayor in the middle of the room trying for all he was worth to get his cell phone to work. Those with him did the same. That made sense. He was the mayor of a major city after all—a city that had experienced a powerful earthquake and several bone-rattling aftershocks. Oh, and a city that had been invaded by killer creatures that swam through fog, a fog that was rising every minute.

  I also couldn’t help noticing that more and more people had gathered around the bar. That didn’t seem very wise. The professor noticed it, too.

  “Fools. Don’t they know they need to keep their wits sharp at a time like this?”

  “They’re scared out of their minds.” Andi had her eyes fixed on those knocking back hard liquor.

  “That’s no excuse, Andi. If they get themselves drunk, they will become a danger to others and themselves.” The professor spotted Ebony Watt and her husband. “I’m gonna have a word with her. Maybe she can close the bar down.”

  I let that be his problem. I turned to Andi and Brenda, “I’m gonna check on the fog.”

  “I’ll stay with Brenda and Daniel.” Andi placed a hand on Brenda’s shoulder. To Brenda’s credit, she was recovering nicely, all things considered.

  I hadn’t been at the window a full minute when the professor joined me. “Ms. Watt is shutting the bar down. I like her. Strong in the face of adversity.”

  “That’s what I admire about you and the rest of the team.”

  “You know, Tank, Brenda isn’t always right.”

  “Name a time when she wasn’t.”

  He looked out the window. “She does a lot of drawing and tattoo work. Not all of those were predictions.”

  “I appreciate what you’re doing, Professor. I really do, but you know there’s a difference. You saw her. When was the last time you saw Brenda that emotional?”

  “Tank—”

  “It’s okay, Professor. You know about my faith. You were a Catholic priest; you know what Christians of all denominations believe about death. I’m not afraid to die. Death is just a promotion.”

  I waited for his usual chatter about faith being a myth and how he gave it all up to embrace reason and logic. It never came. I guess there was enough priest left in him to know not to belittle a dying man’s faith.

  Still, he squirmed. I let him off the hook. “The fog is rising faster. I figure it’s halfway up the building. I can see the fog creatures more clearly now. Can’t say I like it any.”

  “We have to figure something out, Tank. We can’t let all these people die. We can’t let those things win.”

  “You got that right, old man.” It was Brenda, and she sounded like herself again. Andi stood next to her.

  The professor closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m not an old man, Barnick.”

  “Ancient.” Daniel was by her side. This time he didn’t lose control, but I could tell he’d rather be someplace else. I understood the feeling.

  The professor eyed the boy and tried to look angry, but the smile on his face defused the act. “Should he be here?”

  “It was his idea, Professor.” A second later she added. “And by the way—thanks.”

  Andi fidgeted. “I feel useless.”

  “Feelings are useless, Andi. You know that. We have to approach this with logic.”

  “Shut up, McKinney,” Brenda snapped. Man, it was good to have her back.

  Andi continued as if the exchange hadn’t happened. “I can’t make sense of things. I’m looking for patterns, things out of the ordinary.”

  “That’s pretty far from ordinary.” Brenda pointed out the window at the creature-infested fog.

  “I’m going to the roof,” I said.

  “Why?” the professor asked.

  “To see more. To get a better idea how fast the fog is climbing. I can lean over the edge and see how high the fog is. We might be dealing with other factors.”

  There was a moment of silence, which the professor broke. “Who are you and what have you done with Tank?”

  “Yeah, what he said.” Brenda’s tone had returned to normal.

  Andi wasn’t going to be outdone. “I’m going with you and don’t tell me no. You don’t have the authority.”

  The professor cleared his throat. “Me, too. We also need to see if the fog is rising in the stairwell.”

  I thought that was a good idea.

  We crossed paths with Allen Krone, who was looking slightly less pale. I asked if the stairwell went all the way to the roof. He said it did. I then mentioned our plan. Turns out, that was a bad idea. He insisted on going. I told him that it wasn’t advisable. Janice, his wife, agreed with me. The professor backed me up. So did Andi. Four against one. I figured that would end the matter, but Krone countered with, “It’s my building.” No need to go into what other words he used to spice up that statement. Bottom line, he was going with us.

  We approached the stairwell individually hoping not to alert the crowd that we were stepping out for a few minutes. We gathered near the door and chatted for a few moments, then slipped from the room.

  The space was dim, lit from above by emergency lights. I could see light glowing down the stairs, too. I wanted to see if the fog had come up the stairs, but decided we should go to the roof first.

  We moved up the stairs slowly, but it was still a tad too fast for Krone. I tried to talk him into going back. He had no interest in that and said so. We were four people climbing steps to who knows what. Still, it fe
lt good to be doing something more than standing around.

  Krone stopped to rest a coupla times, but only for a few moments. Each time, I stood beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. Partly to comfort him; mostly in hopes that my healing gift, sporadic as it is, might kick in.

  Nothing. I’m thankful to God for the handful of people that I’ve healed (a small handful at that), but I get frustrated with it. What good is it to have a healing gift if you can’t use it when you need to? I’ve had these thoughts before, and when I do I comfort myself with the knowledge that Brenda’s gift is on-again, off-again. Same is true for Andi. Her mind is always sharp and seeing things the rest of us don’t, but she doesn’t see patterns in everything every day. Still, her ability seems to be there when she needs it.

  Fortunately, we started on the top floor, so the roof was only one full flight of stairs away. When we reached the upper landing, I saw a metal door that bore a plastic sign telling us this was the roof access. FOR USE IN EMERGENCIES ONLY.

  I think our situation qualified.

  The night air was cool, but I couldn’t detect even a hint of a breeze. We propped the door open to make sure it couldn’t lock behind us. We were probably being paranoid, but paranoia was understandable today.

  I looked around. The roof was flat and covered with something that looked like black rubber flooring. Concrete paths led in several directions. One led to roof-mounted machinery, another to what looked like small rooms, and one to the edge of the building. The same kind of concrete walk ran the perimeter of the building. I assumed the walkways were there to keep maintenance people from walking on the rubber-like surface. Krone confirmed my suspicions. He then pointed out a few details.

  “The walkway runs around the edge of the building. It’s there for the window cleaners.” He pointed to a short wall at the edge of the building. “There are anchors to support davits—small crane-like devices—along the parapet. The crews place the davits where they need them. It allows them to swing a window cleaner’s platform over the edge of the building.”

  He pointed to some large mechanical equipment. “Much of the HVAC equipment is up here. Those small buildings you see are elevator equipment rooms.”

  “You mean like pulleys and stuff?” I asked.

  “Yes, and more. This building is too tall to use hydraulic elevators, so we use an electric system. The cars are pulled up and lowered on cables.”

  It was all interesting and a great way to stall, but the time had come to do what we came for. I moved to the edge of the building until I was standing next to the wall Krone had called a parapet.

  The light up here came from emergency lights and a veiled moon. I could see more stars than I expected in the downtown area of a major city. With the city lights out, there was almost no light pollution.

  Fog reached as far as I could see in the dark city. I remembered the people on the streets we had seen from the limo: the partiers, showgoers, business people, and homeless. I tried not to think how many were now dead or how they died.

  The professor groaned at the sight of the teeming fog. I leaned over the parapet and studied it. Now and again, one of those things would poke its head up, and each time the sight of its ugly face turned my stomach. Maggots looked better.

  “I can barely see the green band,” Andi said. “The fog must be higher than the thirteenth floor.”

  Krone nodded. “I’d estimate the fog is up to the twenty-fifth floor.”

  “So halfway, then.” It seemed higher to me.

  “More than halfway, Tank,” the professor said. “Remember, only forty-eight floors are above the ground.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  As we watched, the fog rose another few feet. It was definitely growing faster, bringing death with it.

  “I’m gonna take a lap.” I walked next to the parapet, my gaze shifting from the fog below to darkness everywhere else. As I walked west I noticed I couldn’t see the waters of the bay. Even the ocean wore a blanket of fog. I’ll confess, I was losing heart, which is sad, since I’m supposed to be the optimist of the group.

  I followed the concrete path around the edge of the building. I could hear the others behind me. They spoke on occasion, but barely above a whisper. They were as stunned as I was.

  Behind the building was a gap. Another building, dark as a tomb stood on the other side of the gap. The fog was as high here as it was at the front of the building. Why wouldn’t it be? It was fog.

  “Alley,” Krone said. “There’s a narrow alley behind the building. If memory serves, it’s about twenty feet wide.”

  Good to know, but useless. I had hoped there was a back way out, a place without the fog. It was a ridiculous hope, but then this whole thing was ridiculous.

  We made our way back to where we started. “We’re stuck,” I said. I studied the fog more intently. A creature popped its grotesque head up and stared at me. Then it pointed at me. It’s probably my imagination, but for a moment I thought it smiled.

  Andi gasped. I snapped my head around and saw her staring across the street at the building opposite the one we were on. It was tall like Krone’s building, but three or four stories shorter. It looked fairly new. Like many buildings in San Diego, it looked made of glass.

  The lights had gone on. Not emergency lights. All the lights in it. I looked at other buildings. All dark. I leaned over the parapet and looked down the side of our structure. Still dark, except for the green band.

  “What’s going on—” Then I saw. Dear Lord, I didn’t want to see. The lights inside the building illuminated everything, but all I could see was fog. Fog inside the building. And in the fog, people running, and unpeople swimming—attacking. Blood painted the windows.

  I couldn’t watch.

  “Did you see?” The professor said.

  “We all saw, Professor. Horrible.”

  Andi covered her mouth. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “I meant the fog. The fog inside the building. It’s at a higher level than the fog outside. That means . . .”

  He didn’t finish and I was glad. We knew what it meant.

  The lights across the street flickered then winked out. We couldn’t see inside. That was the only blessing of the moment.

  Then we heard a scream. No, not a scream—several screams. I sprinted to the stairwell. The professor was close behind.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Screams from a Stairwell

  I pounded down the stairs and rounded the middle landing. There were too many things to see. My brain quivered. First I noticed a half-dozen people standing on the landing by the door to the floor we had been on most of the night. It looked like they were cons making a prison break. My guess was they saw the slaughter across the street and panicked.

  Then I saw several more people standing on the first flight of stairs going down. They stopped in midstep, no doubt frozen by the screams of those who had gone before.

  I saw one other thing: Brenda, sitting half on the landing, half on the first step down. Daniel was in her arms. He was shaking.

  “Back into the room!” My voice echoed in the stairwell.

  Those on the platform turned and stared at me. I descended the remaining steps. No one had moved. “I said, get back in the room.”

  One guy, a six-footer in his thirties, sneered at me. He should see what linemen do. “Who do you think you are to give orders?” He poked me in the chest with his index finger. At the moment I wasn’t sure if he was brave or stupid. It didn’t matter. I had to put an end to the panic, and I could only think of one thing to do, so I did it.

  I seized the front of his dress shirt, just above his fancy vest, pulled forward and, when he tried to resist my pull, pushed back and up, pinning him against the doorjamb.

  “Okay, mister. Here’s the deal. You’re scared. I’m scared. The difference is I’m younger, stronger, and twice your size. Am I getting through to you?”

  He nodded.

/>   “Good. I’m trying to help.” I lifted him another two inches. “So don’t get in my way. We good?”

  “Y-yes.”

  I dropped him and took a deep breath.

  “Everyone, please go in the room. Right now it’s the safest place to be. There’s nothing but death down these stairs.”

  One by one they filed back into the room until only Brenda and Daniel were left. I squatted next to them. “You okay?”

  “They went nuts. They saw the lights go on the building across the street. They cheered and moved to the windows. Then the slaughter began. They lost it, Cowboy. I mean they went bug nuts and made a run for the stairwell.” She grimaced. “Daniel tried to stop them, but they knocked him down. I had to get him to safety, but they kept pushing toward the door. We got carried along. I was afraid they were gonna trample us. If you hadn’t—”

  “That part is over,” I said. “Are you hurt?”

  “My leg is banged up. Kneecap. I think it’s broken.”

  “Let me have a look.” The professor inched by me onto the stair just below Brenda. Brenda didn’t object. They bicker a lot, but I have no doubt either would lay down their life for the other.

  “It hurts here?” He pressed the area just below her kneecap. Her yelp was enough of an answer. He studied the leg a little longer, pressed a few more spaces, but stopped when Brenda smacked him on the shoulder. “Her arm is working.”

  “So is my fist,” she snarled.

  The professor looked at me. “She’s right. I think the patella is broken. That’s a guess of course.” He looked behind him and down the stairwell. He let his eyes linger. “I’d feel safer inside with the others. Not much, but a little.”

  I lifted Daniel from Brenda’s embrace. “Hey, dude. Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “No injuries, broken bones, bruises, missing limbs?”

  He smiled. “No.”

  “I think you may have saved a bunch of lives. Go with Andi, buddy. I’m gonna give this mean ol’ woman a hand up.”

  “Hey,” Brenda said. “You heard me tell the professor that my fists are still working.”