Whiteout (Book 4): The City of Light, page 6
part #4 of Whiteout Series
My stomach grumbled. I reached across the table and grabbed the mustard packets from the hotplate. They weren’t frozen anymore, but when I squeezed them, the mustard came out like a slushy. That didn’t stop me, however. I dipped my pretzels and gobbled them up almost as greedily as Chewy had gobbled the jerky-Skittle concoction.
“It does feel like a lot longer than that,” Ell agreed. “The whole thing, I mean—the snow, the monsters, the end of the world. Years instead of months.”
“That it does,” Ramsey agreed. Unlike Stone, he had no qualms about digging into his hot dog. He lifted it from his plate and chomped down three-quarters of it in one bite. After swallowing loudly, he set the remaining piece on the floor for Chewy, who scarfed it down. He hung around for more, his tail wagging furiously.
“Probably just earned yourself a new friend,” I said, nodding toward the dog.
“Good, I need one.”
Didn’t we all?
“So what brought you here?” Ell asked.
“Luck, I guess,” Ramsey said. “That, and I didn’t think I could drag around all the car batteries anymore. I was afraid my arms was gonna pop outta their sockets.” He chuckled, staring off into the background as he probably pictured that.
“You do know how close you are to a sanctuary, don’t you?” Stone said, almost mockingly.
Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “The City. Yeah, I know it. Know it too well, you might say.”
Across the table, Mia had been crunching her Skittles, but she stopped as soon as Ramsey finished talking. Her cheeks blanched, and her eyes simultaneously drooped and widened, a combination I thought impossible.
“Is it—is it gone?”
Ramsey shrugged. “Depends what you mean by gone.”
We examined him, waiting for an elaboration. As we did this, the color slowly reappeared on Mia’s face, a sure sign that anger was on the horizon.
Thou shalt not test the patience of a pregnant woman.
“I mean,” Mia snarled, “is the fuckin’ place still there or not? Is it still operational? Still safe?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! No need to bare them fangs, miss. I ain’t know it was such a touchy subject to ya.” Ramsey’s gaze fell on Mia’s belly, where her hands rested, bunched into fists. “Oh…I get it now. You’re tryin’ to have your little one in the City, ain’t ya?”
“Wow, so observant,” Stone said, rolling his eyes. “You must’ve been Sherlock Holmes in your past life.”
“Sherlock’s a fictional character, Stone,” Ell said.
“He probably doesn’t know that.”
“I know that, buddy,” Ramsey said. “I read damn near all of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s work when I was stationed in Kansas. Fuck all to do out there. Favorite one was about the hound in Baskerville.”
Stone jerked his head back. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah, man. I love me a good mystery.”
“Let’s stay on topic here,” Mia interrupted. “Ignore this douchebag, and tell me what the hell you’re talking about, dude.”
“Excuse them,” Ell said as she leaned forward and planted both hands on the table, one on each side of her empty, ketchup-stained plate. “A politer translation would be: is there anyone there who can deliver this baby?”
“‘Cause I’m one bad sneeze away from poppin’ her out and simultaneously paintin’ the walls with strawberry jam,” Mia said.
And…there went my appetite.
“Jesus Christ, Mia,” Stone said. “Do you want us all to throw up?”
Ramsey took a deep breath, smiled somberly. “Well, the City ain’t like it used to be, but there’s a few people who could help ya out. In fact, when I lived on the inside, I saw a couple pregnant chicks go into the medical building with a big ol’ belly and come out with a little bundle of joy. You’ll want Sharon Hart, if you can. Pretty blonde gal with green eyes so bright you can’t miss ‘em. Doc Ritchie ain’t bad for a second choice, but he don’t have no bedside manner, and I imagine when you’re about to…do that, you want everyone treatin’ you right-like.”
Ell visibly relaxed, but Mia remained skeptical, hands still bunched into fists, face not as scarlet as before, though still red.
“Wait,” I said, “you lived there?”
“I did,” Ramsey said. “Pretty much from the beginning of this circus.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t think y’all wanna know.”
“Bro,” Stone said, “you better fuckin’ tell us. If you haven’t noticed”—he nodded to Mia—“we’re kinda in a sticky situation here. We don’t have time for games.”
He struck out for the rifle resting by my side. The sudden movement caught me by surprise, and honestly scared me a little. Before I could even raise my hand, Stone had the muzzle aimed in Ramsey’s face.
“If you wanna play games, Ramsey, then I’ll shoot you right here on the spot, and it’ll be game over for you, my friend.”
Mia, Ell, and Chewy reflexively flinched. I didn’t; I just stared at my best friend in disbelief, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. Ramsey stared at him too, but in a nonchalant, relaxed manner. This was a man who’d seen the wrong end of a gun many times before, I thought.
“Stone!” Ell snapped. “Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean you get to be a complete—”
“Dickbag,” Mia finished for her.
“Yeah, a dickbag.”
Stone ignored them, and the staring contest continued. Whereas Stone was serious, all business, Ramsey’s lips curled into a smile. He said, “Hey, hey, no harm, no foul. I get it, I understand the mistrust, I do. You’re probably right to not trust me. I wouldn’t trust my ass either, lookin’ the way I do now.”
“Put yourself in our shoes. Running at us while you’re blasting off into the sky isn’t exactly a great first impression,” Stone said.
“Stop it!” Ell shouted. “Stop!”
Stone snarled, his nostrils flared. He showed no signs of putting down the weapon.
“Dude…” I said, “this is really not cool.”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. “I’m stepping up, Grady. Doing what you should’ve done a long time ago.”
His words stung a bit, but I didn’t take them to heart. We were all shaken after the events in Woodhaven, and all on edge with Mia being so close to delivering. Sometimes Stone got angry. Hell, I did too; it was only human.
“You’re gonna tell us what the deal is with the City, and then you’re gonna go outside and fix our other snowmobile. I don’t care if it’s coming down out there, or if it’s negative a million degrees, or if the fucking Thumbprint People lend you a hand. We’re done messing around!”
At the mention of the Thumbprint People, Ramsey’s confident expression wavered, but only for a moment. Soon he was smiling again, which only served to piss Stone off more.
I had made it a point to not let this get out of hand. So far, I was failing.
Ramsey held his hands up. “All right, all right, I’ll tell you. Just get the damn rifle outta my face.”
“Fine.” Stone lowered the gun, but kept it on the table and aimed at Ramsey’s chest.
“You wanna know what happened?” Ramsey said. “Well, I’m not too sure myself. But I’ll tell y’all one thing: the guy who was doin’ the studying, Berretti’s his name, lacks common sense. Sure, he’s got a brain for science, but he was workin’ for some covert government organization before, which only got shadier after the snow fell, and I think that ain’t exactly the type of science you and me studied in school. Shit’s way above my pay grade.” He chuckled. “Anyway, those things, those shadows, showed up all over the world, and Berretti, he wanted to study ‘em. So he did.”
“Is he in charge there?” I asked.
Ramsey shrugged. “Not really. He’s got some pull, but another fella runs the place. Nick Rider. I guess Berretti’s his second in command, and I ain’t ever seen two more different people in my life. They get along pretty well, though. Somehow. Berretti, he’s not too kind a guy. Y’all wanna steer clear of him and stay off his bad side—especially if Rider’s not around.”
“So he’s the reason for the...incident?” I said, unsure of what the incident was but having a slight idea.
“Pretty much. Berretti’s got a lot of blood on his hands because of it.”
Ell put her hand over her mouth. “Blood?”
Ramsey nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the story, but I leaned forward and listened anyway.
“So this son of a bitch and his team of scientists somehow trapped one of those bastards. Kept it below the City—”
“And you saw this?” Stone asked, a smirk on his face.
“Not when it was trapped, no. But I sure as shit saw it when it got out, and when it…infected a bunch of my friends.”
“That’s terrible,” Ell said.
“How did it get out?” Stone asked, glaring at Ramsey.
“No,” Mia interrupted, face red again. “The real question is why in the holy green fuck would some psycho keep one as a pet?”
“Bingo.” Ramsey winked and pointed a finger gun at Mia. “Couldn’t’ve said it better myself. How did it get out? Well, far as I know, that’s up for debate, but I’d bet my right arm it got into someone’s head, fucked with that person’s brain, had ‘em unlock the cage or whatever, and then strolled away like it fuckin’ owned the place.”
“How many…?” I asked. My voice faded as I realized it probably wasn’t the most sympathetic question to ask, considering Ramsey had called these people his friends.
Ramsey, however, didn’t seem fazed.
“Let’s see, there was about three hundred living there when the one got out—”
"Shit—there was more?” Stone whispered. “They got in?” He pulled the rifle from the tabletop and cradled it against his chest, enraptured. I shook my head at him. Ain’t nothing like a good story to lose yourself in, despite the horror.
“Yeah, don’t know how many. I saw at least five on my own, and at the time, the City was a big-ass place. You know how it is, though, domino effect or whatnot. The first shadow gets out, infects a bunch of people, then they go on and take over the security systems, power down the lights, open the gates, and those other fuckers ain’t gonna miss the chance at a free meal. Let me tell ya, three hundred people can muster up a lot of fear. Massacre is a better word for what happened. If you can, just imagine a bunch of people runnin’ around like chickens with their heads cut off.”
My heart dropped—what was left of my heart, I mean. “How many survived?”
“I don’t got an exact count, but when it was all said and done and the bodies were scraped off the roads, I’d say less than seventy-five.”
“Holy—” I began.
“Fuckballs,” Mia interrupted. Not exactly how I planned on finishing, but it summed up my feelings well enough.
“Less than seventy-five?” Stone said. “How many were your doing?”
“You implyin’ I killed a few of my own friends?”
“Implying? No. I think it’s pretty obvious what I meant.”
My muscles tensed as I shot up from my chair. I knew this disagreement was going to come to blows (or someone was going to get shot, and it usually seemed to be the innocent bystanders in these types of situations), so I snatched the gun from Stone’s grip. Like myself earlier, he hadn’t expected it, and it was easy enough to pry it from his hands without endangering the others. For the most part.
“Okay,” I said, taking a few steps away from the table. “Enough with this shit.”
I wrestled with the rifle while I attempted to figure out how to take it apart, a feat I’d seen before in a hundred action movies. But this wasn’t an action movie. My elbows chicken-winged and flapped. My face heated up. My teeth bared. Honestly, I tried my best, but since the steel refused to bend to my will, I just gave up.
“You can eject the mag by hittin’ that button right there,” Ramsey said, pointing near the rifle’s stock.
I saw no button, and stared at him in confusion.
“Eh, don’t worry. It won’t matter much if you do.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause it’s empty, my friend. Been empty since before we got into our little scuffle. Those rounds are probably buried in the snow with the rest of the world.
A silence fell as Ramsey, cool as a cucumber, leaned back in his chair. He looked like a man lounging on the beach instead of a man who just had a gun jammed in his face.
Stone shook his head. I turned to get a better look at him. He closed his eyes and kneaded his temples with his thumb and index finger.
“Grady, dude, you didn’t check how many rounds were left?”
“What? How the hell was I supposed to know? This isn’t Call of Duty. I can’t just hit a button—”
“Yeah, man, I told ya, it’s that button there,” Ramsey said. He jabbed an index finger through the air. Surprisingly, Stone chuckled, and he sounded like his usual self. I guess my stupidity wasn’t completely worthless.
I found the button, pressed it, and the magazine fell into my free hand. It weighed less than I expected, but what the hell did I know? Guns and I weren’t too well acquainted, especially when the weapons of choice in this apocalypse were flashlights and bug-spray-powered flamethrowers. I peered into the cartridge or whatever, and sure enough, no bullets were stacked in the magazine.
Ell and Mia scooted away from Ramsey, their faces uneasy. I sensed a fear building within the room, somehow overshadowing Stone’s anger.
Ramsey reached in his coat’s breast pocket and dug around for something. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Maybe a pistol or a knife he’d use to put an end to us now that the tables had turned. But I didn’t really believe that, and he pulled out neither of those things.
He slapped down a fresh magazine on the table instead. The metallic clank rang through the entire empty building.
“No need to get all worried now. If I wanted to kill y’all, I would’ve.”
“That’s reassuring,” Stone mumbled.
Ramsey slid the magazine toward me. “There, if it makes you feel better, go ahead and load up.”
Hesitantly, I reached for the magazine, lifted it. It certainly felt a hell of a lot weightier than the empty one. But I didn’t load it. I just set it back down on the table and lay the gun beside me.
Stone moved for it, but I slapped his hand away.
“Ow, dude, what the hell?”
“No. Leave it.”
“If you’re gonna be a vagina—”
I showed him my favorite middle finger, and he stopped.
Ell rolled her eyes and said, “Now, now, boys.”
“Always trying to show each other who has the bigger dick,” Mia said. “So dumb.”
“Well, that’s one way of putting it,” I said.
Stone sighed as he scratched the back of his head. “Grady, Ramsey, I apologize to you both. Mentally, I’m not…ever since we lost…well, you know.”
Chewy whined from the floor, a sound that could melt even the stoniest of hearts.
“I’m sorry for y’all’s loss,” Ramsey said. “And I thank ya for the show of faith, I do appreciate it.”
And like that, our grievances were settled.
Ramsey had a fire going in the little fireplace on the far side of the cafe. Although the air inside was warm enough, the heat from the flames took the air from cozy to toasty, and for the moment, I almost forgot we were in the throes of an apocalyptic winter.
Sitting back at the table, we picked at the candy that made up our desserts. Reese’s for Ell and me, per usual; Mia chewed on Skittles sans the Slim Jims; and Stone shook Twix from their wrapper and stuffed them into his mouth. Chewy got a few Skittles here and there, mostly because of how Mia downed them so fast and carelessly.
As we ate, Ramsey continued his story.
“I didn’t murder no one—no one who was infected, I mean. But Stone, man, I dig your bluntness. I really do. The City could’ve used a few more fellas like you in charge. That attitude mighta prevented a bunch of bloodshed.”
“I’m sure,” Stone replied around a mouthful of chocolate. “But honestly, I’m more of a peace guy.”
“Please,” I said, “the only peace you know are pieces of candy and pie.”
Ell brayed laughter, covering her own chocolate-stuffed mouth with one hand and beating the table with the other. “Stop it, you’re gonna make me choke.”
“He got ya there,” Mia agreed. “You and those Paydays. And now Twix? Oh, boy.”
Stone raised his middle finger. “This is what I say to that.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with satisfyin’ your sweet tooth now and then,” Ramsey said. “Leave the poor guy alone.”
“Thanks, bro.” Stone offered him a Twix. How far he’d come in the span of a few minutes surprised me. Then again, that was Stone.
Back in the day, whenever him and I battled on the basketball court, those battles eventually turned to fistfights. Coming home with a busted lip or a budding black eye became a common occurrence as we got older and testosterone guided our actions. An hour or two of anger followed these fights, where Stone and I refused to speak to one another, but by the time the sun went down and we each went home, we’d hop on Xbox Live and play Halo or Call of Duty together, as if we had gotten into a hugging fight instead of a punching one. Stone was easily angered, yes, but he calmed down just as easily. That’s just how he was.
“I left the City on my own accord. I’m a red-blooded American, and I don’t take orders from no one but my CO, my momma, and God. Seein’ as how my CO and my momma are both dead, and how God’s been real quiet these days, I guess I’m a lone wolf, ain’t I?”
“Not anymore. You got us now,” Ell said. She reached across the table and patted Ramsey’s forearm. He jumped at her touch, eyes wide and unsure.
“Thanks, but y’all are leavin’ me soon. I don’t blame ya one bit, though. The City, it’s filled with good people. Not as many as there were before the incident, but still, good people.”
