They kill, p.7
They Kill, page 7
The tree was fine before Jeffrey’s touch. There had been no sign of disease on the trunk, Marc was sure of it. But now it was sick and becoming more so with each passing second. If Jeffrey had returned to life, maybe he’d brought back a little death with him. The thought chilled Marc, but he told himself to quit being ridiculous – at least any more than he already was. He turned away from the tree and jogged toward the parking lot Jeffrey had entered. The lot was located in front of a number of shops, and at first Marc didn’t see the Not-Jeffrey. Had he gone into one of the stores?
But then he saw him on the far side of the lot. He was crouching down, which was why Marc hadn’t seen him right away. A woman stood next to him, holding the leash of a white-and-tan pit bull. The woman was petite but fit. She had short blond hair and wore a tank top that said Cincinnati 10K on it, black shorts, and running shoes. As Marc started toward them, he heard Jeffrey’s voice as he spoke to the woman, and it was that voice – his lover’s voice, one which he knew as well as his own – that finally convinced him this man was Jeffrey Sowell, somehow returned to life.
“Your dog is beautiful. What’s her name?”
“Stella,” the woman said.
“Do you mind if I pet her?”
“Go ahead. She loves to meet new people.”
Jeffrey smiled and reached out to touch Stella’s head. She wagged her tail when his fingers first touched her, but then her body stiffened and she let out a pained whine. Halfway across the lot, Marc stopped and watched in horror as Stella began to age rapidly. Her body seemed to deflate as her skin drew close to her bones, and her fur turned coarse and white. Her legs trembled then gave out on her, and she fell to the ground, cataract-covered eyes open and unseeing. Stella’s dead body then collapsed in a pile of gray dust. Her owner dropped Stella’s leash and screamed.
Jeffrey stood.
“It’s okay,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’ve given Stella a great gift, and now I’m going to give it to you.”
The woman stared at Stella’s remains, and she didn’t move as Jeffrey stepped forward and gently, almost lovingly, raised his hand and placed his fingers on her cheeks. Like Stella, she stiffened, and her fit body began to wither, losing tone and definition. Her muscles shrank and her skin hung from her skeleton like an empty sack. Her hair whitened and began to fall from her head like drifting autumn leaves. She opened her mouth, most likely to scream again, but when she did, her teeth began to fall out in twos and threes, hitting the ground with clicks and clacks. Then she too disintegrated, her clothes as well, until all that remained of her and her dog were two mounds of gray dust, one slightly larger than the other.
Marc was staring at the twin piles of dust, unable to believe what he’d just seen, when Jeffrey turned to look at him. At first there was no sign of recognition from Jeffrey, but then his eyes lit up and he grinned.
“Marc!” He started walking forward, arms raised, as if he intended to give Marc a great big hug when he reached him. A stink of rot and decay preceded him, the same odor that had clung to the diseased tree, and Marc realized that Jeffrey was the source of the stench.
Marc’s paralysis broke then. Without saying a word, he turned and ran for all he was worth.
* * *
Marc kept looking over his shoulder as he ran, although his sore neck protested every time he did. Each time he expected to see Jeffrey running behind him, arms outstretched, hands reaching to touch him and grant him the same terrible ‘gift’ he’d bestowed upon Stella and her owner. But each time Marc looked, Jeffrey wasn’t there. Marc ran on automatic, and before he realized what he’d done, he’d returned to the scene of the accident he’d been involved in. A police cruiser had pulled up behind the Prius, lights flashing. The officer was standing next to the Prius’s driver, who was gesticulating wildly. When she caught sight of Marc, she pointed and said, “There he is!”
Rather than being upset by this, Marc was profoundly grateful to be confronted with a situation so normal after what he’d witnessed. He was also absurdly relieved to see the police officer. Police were armed and could shoot anyone who tried to hurt you. So strong was Marc’s relief that he couldn’t prevent himself from letting out a strained and not altogether sane giggle.
He walked up to the officer and the woman with a wide smile and spoke in a too-loud, too-cheerful voice.
“Hi! What can I do for the two of you?”
* * *
Electronics Emporium wasn’t as large as some of the big-box stores, but it was large enough. A medium-box store, as Stuart sometimes thought. The pay wasn’t all that great, and he’d have left by now if it hadn’t been for the generous employee discount. He spent a good chunk of his paycheck here every couple weeks, snagging the latest in tech and accessories. His last purchase had been a smart watch, and he liked to move his wrist back and forth to see the way light played across its glass surface. He didn’t even have to turn it on. Just knowing he possessed it – that it was his – was enough.
The Emporium sold computers, phones, game systems, e-readers, speakers for PCs and gaming, smart TVs, drones…. You name it, the store had it. And if the Emporium had it, Stuart wanted it. He sometimes fantasized about pulling up to the store in the dead of night with a semi, breaking in, loading the store’s entire contents into the truck, and driving off. He might’ve done it too, if he’d thought there was a chance he could get away with it.
This morning, Stuart was working the video games section, and while a lot of the employees loved being stationed here, Stuart would’ve preferred to be somewhere else. Games wasn’t a manager’s section. Computers or TVs would’ve been better. More adult. It was hard to come across as manager material when you were trying to sell games to kids. And who the hell bought video games on a Monday morning anyway?
He stood next to a screen upon which a demo of Demon Riders was playing. Demon Riders was a video game where players fought demons in hell while riding supercharged motorcycles equipped with various weapons. Stuart had played the game before, and it was okay. There wasn’t much to it, really, other than riding around and killing monsters and shit. He preferred more complex games, ones where a certain amount of strategy and puzzle-solving were involved. But Demon Riders was a bestseller, so what the hell did he know?
Annoying pop music played over the store’s sound system. When he became manager – and had an even larger employee discount – he’d pick the music, and he’d play something better than this crap. Seventies rock, maybe, or Nineties alternative. There were a half dozen other employees on the floor, all standing at their different stations, all wearing black Electronics Emporium polo shirts and jeans. Managers wore suits, though, and the manager on duty this morning, Alton Withrow, wore an ill-fitting blue one, with a light blue shirt, and a pink tie. Alton was short and overweight, and his suit was too tight on him, making him look like too much sausage meat stuffed into a blue cloth casing. And that tie! Pink was not a color that projected strength and inspired confidence. Besides the horrible way he dressed, Alton was too wishy-washy to be an effective manager. He was reluctant to make decisions, and when he finally did make one, he rarely stuck to it. Stuart had no idea how the man had become a manager in the first place. When Stuart was manager, he’d make sure everyone did exactly what they were told, or else. He’d have this goddamned place running as smoothly as his smart watch.
He disliked working Mondays because of how slow it always was, but his conversation with Sierra had put him into an even fouler mood than usual for a Monday. He couldn’t stand it when someone else got the last word in, and by hanging up on him, that’s exactly what Sierra had done. He knew it would be better if he waited until later to call her. He’d already called her back once after she’d hung up on him. Calling again too soon would make him appear weak and needy. Not in control. But the longer he stood there among the game consoles and cartridges without a single customer coming by to distract him, the more he stewed about Sierra. When he was at work, he wore a Bluetooth receiver, as did the other employees. This way, they could answer any calls that came into the store or communicate with each other if need be. They weren’t supposed to make personal calls at work, but Alton paid no attention to what they did. When he wasn’t wandering around the store doing nothing, he was in his office in the back, watching porn on his computer. Any of the employees could spend the entire day on the phone gabbing with friends, and he’d never know it.
Stuart tried to resist the impulse for several more moments before giving in and calling Sierra. He listened as her phone rang a half dozen times before going to voicemail. As he listened to her outgoing message, he remembered what she’d said to him the night they’d broken up.
You know how people say it’s not you, it’s me? Well, it’s definitely you, Stuart. One hundred fucking percent.
The tone at the end of Sierra’s message brought him back to the present.
“You hung up on me. That was rude, Sierra. The least you could do is show me some simple common courtesy. Is that too goddamned much to ask?”
He became aware of a customer approaching him, a tall guy with long blond hair who was dressed like a mortician. Stuart didn’t want to be interrupted, and he turned his back on the man, hoping he’d see he was talking on the phone, get the message, and go find someone else to bother.
“This is the problem with you, Sierra. You’re too focused on yourself all the time. Yeah, it sucks that your brother died, but you need to get over it. Fuck, you need to get over yourself!”
Now that he’d managed to vent some of his anger, he realized that he wasn’t doing himself any favors by yelling at Sierra in a phone message. If he hoped to get her to soften her attitude toward him, this sure as hell wasn’t the way to go about it. He tried to think of a way he could turn this around and end the message on a more positive – or at least less confrontational – note. But he was silent too long and her phone disconnected.
He wanted to scream. He’d allowed his emotions to get the better of him again, and it was all her fault. Why did he let her make him so crazy?
“Why indeed?”
Stuart turned, startled. The man in the black suit had not gone away. Instead, he’d stood there while Stuart had left his ill-conceived message on Sierra’s voicemail. The fucker had probably heard every word too. Stuart wanted to tell the sonofabitch to go back to the funeral home, but that wasn’t the kind of behavior that got you promoted to manager. So Stuart stuck a smile on his face and said, “Welcome to Electronics Emporium. How can I help you today?”
The man smiled, but his eyes remained dead, like those of a fish that had been out of water too long.
“I’m not here to purchase any particular item. I just thought I’d take a look around and see if anything caught my eye.”
Beneath the man’s words was a soft, almost inaudible hum, as if electric current flowed through him, and there was something strange about his suit. The more Stuart looked at it, the more he felt his attention drawn by its dark color. It was like looking into the depths of a vast black ocean, and he thought he could dive into it if he wanted and swim downward forever and still never reach the bottom.
“This is interesting.”
Before Stuart could react, the man plucked the Bluetooth receiver from his ear and examined it.
“That’s, uh, the latest in Bluetooth tech,” Stuart said, struggling to pull his attention from the suit and focus it on the man who was wearing it. “It’s wireless and hands-free, obviously, has impressive call quality, outstanding noise cancellation, compact size, and great battery life.”
The man turned the receiver over in his hands, examining it from all angles, but he made no move to put it on. Maybe he was some kind of a germophobe.
“If you’d like to try one on for size, I can get you one that’s never been worn before.”
The humming sound Stuart had heard grew louder, and for an instant he thought he saw skeins of electricity dance across the Bluetooth receiver. But then they were gone, along with the humming sound, and Stuart decided he must’ve imagined both.
“That won’t be necessary.” The man handed the receiver back to Stuart. Stuart was reluctant to touch it at first, but he took it and, after a moment’s hesitation, slipped it back over his left ear.
“I’ll think about it,” the man said. He then turned and walked directly toward the store’s exit. A moment later he was gone.
“That was fucking weird,” Stuart muttered.
“It certainly was.”
The voice in his ear was female, that of an older, poised woman. It had a slightly artificial quality, as if it was being generated by a speech-synthesizing program. Was one of his fellow employees playing a trick on him? He looked around the store, but people were either helping customers or standing around with their thumbs up their asses, looking bored.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“My name is Krista. I’m your new digital assistant. Would you like to upgrade now?”
Stuart looked around once more, but no one was looking in his direction, watching to see how he reacted. If this was a joke, whoever was behind it was playing it real cool. What the hell? After his encounter with the man in the black suit, he could use a distraction. He decided to play along.
“Sure, Krista. Upgrade me.”
“Upgrade in progress.”
Sudden sharp pain lanced through his left ear. It felt as if someone had heated a metal spike until it was glowing orange and then jammed it into his head. He tried to scream in agony, but what came out of his mouth was a deafening burst of what sounded like static. He could feel tendrils – no, wires – extending into his brain, squirming around, searching for the best areas to connect themselves to. He was distantly aware of another pain, this one less intense. It was located in his right wrist, and he looked down to see that his smart watch was sinking into his skin, fusing with his flesh. He reached up to touch the Bluetooth receiver and found that the same thing was happening with it. The device had burrowed into his ear and blended with his body, until it was impossible to say where one began and the other ended.
Fear and revulsion welled up within him, but before his emotions could take him over he heard a soft click inside his brain, and then he felt nothing. He’d spent so much of his life struggling with his emotions, with the need to control and the anger that resulted when that need was denied, that this state came as a great relief to him. He still felt pain in his head and wrist as intensely as before, but now it didn’t matter to him. Pain was merely a sensation and sensations could be ignored.
“Stuart, are you all right?”
Alton came toward him, a concerned look on the manager’s chubby face. Stuart couldn’t believe how much sharper his vision had become. Colors were brighter and more vibrant, and he could pick out the smallest details. If he wanted to, he could count the individual pores on Alton’s face – a good number of which were clogged with grease and dirt. Stuart saw that everyone else in the store was looking at him, employees and customers alike. He wasn’t sure why.
“Your scream alarmed them,” Krista said. “Upgrade complete, by the way.”
Alton had hurried over to Stuart so fast he was out of breath by the time he reached him. One of the shirt buttons over his belly had come undone, exposing a section of pale, jiggling flab. Alton stared at Stuart’s face.
“What happened to your eyes? They’re all silver.”
“Are they?” Stuart said, his voice smooth and evenly modulated. “I’ll have to take a look at myself in a mirror.”
For a moment, Alton seemed at a loss for words, but then he said, “Something’s seriously wrong with you, Stuart. Let’s go to the employee lounge. You can lie on the couch and I’ll call 911. We’ll get you to a hospital where they can help you.” From the doubt in the man’s voice, it sounded like he wasn’t particularly confident about this last part.
“I’m fine,” Stuart said. “Better than I’ve ever been, in fact. But I am going to take the rest of the day off. I need to see my old girlfriend and straighten out a few things with her.”
Stuart started to walk toward the exit, but Alton grabbed hold of his upper arm and stopped him.
“I really don’t think you should leave.”
Alton looked scared, but he didn’t release his grip on Stuart’s arm, didn’t back away. Maybe the man was stronger minded than Stuart had given him credit for.
“Like I said, I’m fine. Let go.”
Stuart fixed his gaze on Alton, and however his eyes now appeared, they made Alton go pale. But instead of releasing his grip, his hand tightened.
“Please, Stuart! I’m only trying to help you.”
“I already have all the help I need. Her name is Krista.”
His watchband had sunken entirely beneath his flesh, but the smart watch’s screen remained visible. The screen lit up, and he saw that the display showed different apps than it had before, strange ones that he didn’t recognize. One of them was represented by a cartoonish lightning bolt. He was interested to see what it would do.
“Krista, activate lightning.”
As soon as he’d spoken the command, every electronic device in the store activated, filling the air with the sounds of humming and whirring, of video-game sound effects and music. The din rose in volume until it was deafening, and then electricity arced from the machines – all of them – and filled the store with a crackling network of miniature lightning. Employees and customers alike were caught in the web of electricity, Alton included. Their eyes rolled white and their bodies shuddered and jerked uncontrollably. No one made a sound as smoke began to curl from their ears and nostrils, and their skin began to blacken and char. Eyes popped like eggs on a too-hot griddle and hot viscous fluid splattered onto their faces. An appalling stench filled the store – the acrid smell of ozone combined with burning human flesh. Before his upgrade, the stink would’ve cause Stuart to violently empty his stomach, but now it was merely one more detail to note. People’s hair began to smoke and then burst into flame.
