Chapter 19

Day of Death in the Previous Future

October 16th, 2059

The day started out quieter than usual. Both Mom and Dad had been around at breakfast, but neither said much, which was just as well. Leo was in trouble for a number of things. Drug use, hitting his brat sister, ditching school. The usual.

The same odd quietness remained with him on his walk to school. Less traffic. Fewer people were out. He heard growling from an alley and the sounds of eating. When he looked, red eyes stared back at him. Assuming it was a dog, he walked by quickly, not waiting for it to finish its meal and come after him.

It wasn't until he entered the school that he heard screams and saw people running. He kept walking. This was middle school, after all. Kids were always screaming and running away from something.

He saw it. In the middle of the hallway, so horrible, his mind shut down for several long seconds.

The thing crouched in an expanding pool of blood, eating a student he vaguely recognized as a girl in a few of his classes. Her name was Shelly?... no Sheila. Sheila was being eaten alive by a monster. A monster wearing the remains of a dress shirt and slacks. It was the size of a human, but leaner, built for speed. Its feet were bare, revealing toes ending in claws that slid on the bloody tile floor, while its fingers, also ending in claws, held the dying girl down as its sharp teeth tore into her flesh, chewing and swallowing bloody flesh like a hungry animal. On its wrist was an old-fashioned watch that had belonged to Mr. Ackers, the Phys. Ed. teacher. He could just make out the time from the bloody watch dial. It was 8:05. The monster's red eyes looked up, and it noticed Leo. Leo, in turn, noticed he was alone in the hallway with a monster.

His first thought was to run, but his instincts suggested that running, or any display of weakness, would be a bad idea. He backed up slowly, pretending he wasn't utterly terrified. It watched him for a few seconds, then went back to its meal.

He heard his first monster scream. Combining the scream of a human enraged to the point of insanity, the cry of a bird of prey, and the grating sound of fingernails across a chalkboard would approximate the noise this monster made, though the real thing was much worse. The scream echoed in the hallways, so it was impossible to tell which direction it came from.

That first scream was answered by more like the first. Again, it was impossible to tell which direction they came from. It sounded to Leo like he was surrounded, and it was all he could do not to piss his pants.

The monster in front of him went on with its meal, not bothering to look up.

There were gunshots in the distance.

Schoolchildren ran down the hall, chased by one of those things. This monster was smaller than the first, but with the same teeth and claws. it had the same yellow-gray skin, and definitely the same craving for human flesh. Years of practice avoiding bullies made Leo realize joining the running children would be a huge mistake. He slipped behind a garbage can that, through some miracle, was still standing, and watched them go by. Then he ran, dodging behind larger objects, doorways, and other children, somehow making it out of the school without being torn apart and eaten.

He took a longer route home to avoid detection, careful to remain under cover as much as he could. After seeing one of them jump effortlessly onto a roof, he kept to low areas, creeping between cars like a mouse, hiding in bushes, making part of his journey crawling on his belly to avoid being seen.

He somehow thought that if he could get home, everything would be okay. He entered through the back door, calling out quietly for his parents, sister, or anyone. Then he went to the kitchen.

“There was nobody home,” Leo said into the microphone. He stopped, and took a deep breath, “there was nobody home,” he said again, unable to force himself to continue.

“I left the house several hours later because it wasn't safe. The next few days were a blur of running, hiding, stealing food and anything else I needed, fighting to survive,” he said, when he could force himself to start talking again. “I followed some other refugees and ended up at the refugee camp in the city stadium...”

***

Mr. Osmond studied an email.

Dear Mr. Osmond.

I've given your theory concerning the fight between Tomi and Maxine some thought, and I have to conclude there is no evidence supporting it.

First: The live interview in question was a last-minute addition to their already busy schedule to raise publicity for their new movie. A movie that, thanks to their behavior, will be delayed at best, and possibly even canceled. Nobody could have known they were planning to fight, because the girls themselves didn't know about the interview before the day it was scheduled.

Second: I've seen many staged fights, and this was not it. Punching and kicking is fine, but clawing someone's face is a potentially career ruining move and is just not done without special effects and stunt people. Also, I hate to say it because I love these girls, but neither girl is that good at acting. I'm certain the fight was real and by the end, Maxine's face was really bleeding and possibly scarred. There may be a lawsuit.

Third: There's no evidence the girls ever auditioned for the type of gritty action thriller movie you were referring to. The werewolf movies the girls act in may seem silly and stupid to you, but they're popular with children and very profitable.

If you say someone predicted the fight, it's possible they were very lucky, or they really are psychic. You might want to find out what else this person is predicting. Feel free to let me know.

I believe those poor girls, Tomi and Maxine, have lost their way, and I hope you join me in praying for them.

Your Friend,

Gina Gabaldon, Head Facilitator of the Tomi and Maxine Fan Site.

***

Mr. Osmond sighed. Teaching honors classes gave him a bit of leeway in course material, at least. He'd put on a video about Galileo instead of lecturing.

He studied his cellphone, deep in thought. No question about it, this situation was bad. Fortunately, he liked to think he was very smart and knew a few things about rolling with the punches. He’d grown up poor, put himself through college, worked two jobs, and always hustled for money. He'd used any legal or nonlegal means at his disposal, until he finally graduated with two master's degrees, only to teach in a third-rate middle school. A job he was overqualified for, but also the only one he could get in this lousy economy.

His life had been hard up to now, but he was meant for better things, and he'd die before he made a career of teaching middle-school brats.

If Leo was for real, Leo and his Afflicted apocalypse could be the big break he was looking for.

***

“I'll warn you, this won't be pleasant listening," Leo said. “I keep remembering more and more details that I'll have to go back and add, but I've given you a taste of the next fifty years, assuming the apocalypse is not stopped.” The school day had just ended and Mr. Osmond had returned.

“I see.” Mr. Osmond took the tape out of the cassette player and pocketed it, along with the others. “I'll be in touch with any questions.”

“And how about if we exchange phone numbers?” Leo asked.

Mr. Osmond thought for a second, then nodded. “I already know your phone number, but I'll text you mine."

“Speaking of stopping it,” Leo asked, “who is running Bio-Blessed, Inc? Somebody must have some idea who's on the board of directors.”

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Mr. Osmond shook his head. “Tell you what. Why don't I listen to yours before I show you mine.” He smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Leo said. “Are you familiar with the game School's Out? I've gotten an in-game 'plant quest while playing that game, and made over 30 demon tears. I think this game is connected to the aliens.”

“Are you serious?” Mr. Osmond asked, looking dubious.

“As a corpse,” Leo said. “It shocked me too.” He remembered Trent's texts. “Crap, I got to meet someone!” He grabbed his watch and cellphone from the microwave.

Mr. Osmond gave him a half salute. “Bye.”

Leo went to the front of the school looking for Trent's beat-up pickup truck, and not seeing it. He was about to give up and text the guy, when a few beeps attracted his attention.

***

The beeps came from a large, brand new, dark blue pickup with Trent in the driver's seat. He waved Leo over. Leo slipped into the passenger seat, enjoying the new truck smell. “Wow. Nice truck.”

“No money down, with a trade-in.” Trent laughed, “I may have finally got the better of a car dealership. Of course, I'll have to return it if the world doesn't end next month.”

“I see,” Leo said. “So, did you want something?”

Trent put a finger to his lips, then started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn't say anything until he'd driven them to a nearby, small, rundown cafe.

“Cellphone,” Trent mouthed.

Here we go again. With a shrug, Leo handed it over. Trent stuck it, along with his own, in the glove compartment.

“Can't be too careful,” Trent said as they entered the small cafe which had pulsing music in the background. The dirty floor made Leo's shoes sticky as they walked past three old ladies sitting at a table next to the door. Aside from them, Leo and Trent were the cafe's only customers. The two of them sat at a distant corner table, well out of earshot.

“I'll get you whatever you like,” Trent said.

“I'm kind of grounded at the moment. Is this important?” Leo asked.

“It might be,” Trent replied.

The waitress came by to take their order. With a shrug, Leo ordered a coffee, two grilled cheese sandwiches, and a salad. Trent got a milkshake.

“Sorry about the cloak and dagger, but we can't be too careful these days,” Trent said, after the waitress left. “Got something to tell you, and I'm apologizing in advance. After you told me all that stuff about the end of the world last Tuesday, I dropped by this guy I know. Not a friend, not really a nice person, but someone I knew had guns he'd be willing to sell.”

“So?”

“Well, he wanted too much money for the guns, but we ended up talking, and I may have mentioned a few of your predictions. I didn't think your actress fight prediction was any big deal. Those actress bitches will do anything for publicity. But it turns out, the guy with the guns, Tagert, is a huge Maxine and Tomi fan, and yes, I'm sure it's as creepy as it sounds.”

The two stopped talking as the waitress came by with their order and left again.

Leo shrugged, taking a large bite of his grilled cheese sandwich and sipping his coffee. He swallowed. “I don't care who you tell about the predictions. If I could, I'd tell everyone.”

“Yeah, that's kind of what I figured. Anyway, he kept going on about how the girls were angels and would never fight, and I told him, teenage girls may look innocent, but I've never met one who actually was. We argued about this for a while and ended up making a bet. My truck, against his guns, on whether the fight would take place. My old truck's transmission is almost gone. If I'd lost, the joke would have been on him.”

Leo took a second bite. “And the fight took place,” he responded through a mouthful of sandwich.

“Exactly, and the guy immediately tried to welsh on the bet, and we had a bit of a fight of our own about that. I ended up giving him the rest of your predictions in exchange for the guns, which should have been mine, anyway.”

“Not seeing the problem,” Leo said. “What's he doing with the predictions?”

“Well, I figured he'd tell his friends and that would be it. But instead, he and his computer nerd brother set up a website. He's now 'The Great All-Seeing Swami'. He's got a couple of his predictions online for free, but for fifty dollars you can get the rest and learn all about the end of the world.”

“Has he made any money?” Leo asked. “Hard to imagine anyone taking him seriously.”

“Someone took him seriously enough to go to the police. The police paid him a visit, asking what this prediction stuff was about, and Tagert, being Tagert, immediately gave them my name.”

“Uh, oh.” Leo was beginning to see the problem.

“I denied everything, of course. Told them I was counseling the guy for meth addiction and I had no idea what he was talking about. Fortunately, I have some police friends from church who put in a good word for me."

“I'd like to get the word out,” Leo said. “And I have no problem with somebody else taking the credit. If only there was a non-crazy person willing to take that on.”

“Unfortunately, the police were upset about the part of the prediction saying Bio-Blessed users would turn into monsters. It's illegal to post damaging information about Bio-Blessed, or Bio-Blessed users. So Tagert changed the parts about Bio-Blessed users to implant wearers. Now it's the implant wearers who are turning into monsters and eating everyone.”

Leo sighed and put his head in his hands. “Great.”

“I burned that paper you gave me with the predictions on it, to be safe. The police shouldn't be visiting you, but I thought I'd better warn you, just in case they somehow make a connection between the three of us.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Leo said.

“I've been sharing the predictions with people I trust. With all the crazy stuff going on, they're at least considering the possibility you might be right. I talked to a guy who works in finance. He told me that Bio-Blessed, Inc. is sitting on trillions of dollars. Enough to buy a first-world country, or anything else you could imagine, but they haven't spent, or invested, a dime of it. No yachts, no islands, nothing. So what are they doing? What are they trying to accomplish?”

“Somehow I don't think they're doing it for the money,” Leo said, finishing his salad. “Oh yeah, you wouldn't know of anyone with a spare?” he pointed at his wrist. “I have a friend who's looking for one.”

Trent winced and shook his head. “I might hypothetically know of people who are making them, but with the end of the world and all, the 'plants are being made for immediate family members. Sorry.”

“Too bad.”

“I know people who want to talk to you. Not right now, of course, but soon.”

“If you think you can trust them, no problem,” Leo responded. “Oh, yeah. I've got to ask. What happened to the kid who wanted to date your future stepdaughter? The guy you thought was me?”

Trent moaned and buried his head in his hands. “My future stepdaughter dumped the boy before I could meet him. She's not even twelve, but says she's looking for a guy with more experience.” He sighed. “I'm trying to be a good father, but her mom is handling this one.”

“I see.” Leo wasn't sure what to say to that.

“I did what you said to do with,” Trent pointed at his left wrist, “I haven't noticed any difference.”

“Wait until October 16th. That's when shit gets real,” Leo said.

Trent finished his milkshake and stood up. “Hope you're wrong. Want me to drop you someplace?”

“I need to check my cellphone,” Leo responded. “I should go straight home. Mom about killed me yesterday because I'm grounded and I came home late.”

Back in the truck, Leo retrieved his cellphone from the glove compartment.

Jason's text was on top. Going straight home, can't hang out with you, or be seen with you outside school premises because Mom thinks you're a bad influence. Sorry.

Next was Mr. Osmond, with his phone number.

Then Angie. Hey want to train? I want to train. Got your number from Mr. Osmond. We're meeting at Alco Park this afternoon.

Or he could say to hell with going home. And how did Angie know Mr. Osmond? He texted back. Hell yes, I want to train. Mind if I bring a friend?

A text came back. Sure!