Blackout Zone Five
Honestly when I mention this to people, no one else seems to remember this. I’m not sure why this seems to linger in my mind every night. When I mention the riots in 95 they talk about the riots in LA.
They don’t remember the sirens screaming all night. They don’t remember the men in gas masks knocking on every door, telling us to leave. The shortages, the fear, the paranoia, the evacuations of entire cities, almost the whole state.
I was one of the few who stayed, some couldn’t leave for other reasons. Some chose not to leave. Sometimes I would find their doors broken down and their bodies shredded like sheets of paper. As for me, I stayed because I had a new job to do.
They call us collectors, in reality we just go off whatever names they give us. Some call us vultures. Usually people are desperate enough or crazy enough to collect samples and intelligence from the quarantine zone for the eggheads or Uncle Sam. Some of us lived colorful lives. Some were given a choice of prison or being a collector. Some of us were contractors before this or washed up veterans or ex cops. As for me, I had my own reasons.
They send us in by ourselves or in pairs if they feel like we’re important. I wish I was that lucky but then again, luck has never been my strong suit. Then again when we’re not doing Washington’s dirty work we’re holed up somewhere, licking our wounds out of the cold. Some like to make their own little hideouts in the nooks and crannies, as for me. I always believed in safety in numbers, plus they tend to attack groups of people.
I tended to shack up in this big church, some other collectors were there every now and again. Usually it was just me, the pastor and a few vagrants who had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. It was a nice spot actually, the pastor always kept the fire going, and had some beds set out in the main worship area.
It was like any other day in this hellhole of a state. I was sitting by the fireplace on a cushion with a cup of coffee cradled in my hands, instant of course. But hey I take what I can get. Despite the coffee tasting like a combination of charcoal and gas with the absence of sugar. I took another sip as I glanced over my shoulder to see a few people huddled in blankets with lit cigarettes hanging from their chapped lips. I glanced out the warped window to see the snow was starting to pick up, snowflakes began to gently tap the window.
I was just about to finish my coffee when I heard the distinct sound of my pager chiming. I groaned as I dug into my pocket for it and glanced down at the miniscule screen to see a radio frequency to tune into. I gulped the last of my gritty coffee and trapsed over to my bag to my SINCGARS radio and set it up real quick, setting it to single channel and plain text, then punching in the freq. I took hold of the receiver and began to speak into it.
“Scepter to Nest, radio check over”
The feminine voice of my handler chimed in from the other end of the net.
“Hearing you, got some work for you”.
“Hit me”.
“Got a hit from the marines saying there’s some unusual activity in the mall on grover street, they want a specialist to look into it.”
I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh.
“Could they be more specific?”
There was a short pause before Nest finally responded.
“Some of the grunts said they heard coming from the old mall, not sure how its possible”.
“Yeah me neither, well I’ll start hoofing it there”
“Oh no need for that, there’s a convoy that you can hitch a ride with to the mall.”
I furrowed my brow
“How did you manage that?”
I heard a soft chuckle from the other end.
“I have my ways, get geared, they're gonna pick you up soon”.
“I hear, Scepter over and out”.
I said as I hung up the receiver and gathered up my gear. Of course it really wasn’t much, half of it was old surplus shit from vietnam or stuff I managed to get from camping stores that weren’t completely looted. I finished putting on my MOPP suit and clipped on my gas mask bag to my hip. I grabbed my alice and my weapon case and walked outside as I could hear the sound of diesel engines rumbling closer outside.
I walked outside to see a six vehicle convoy of weathered humvees and five ton trucks driving down the snow covered street with a truck with a snow plow mounted on the front clearing the way. The line of vehicles came to a halt. A marine in full MOPP gear waved over to me from a canvas covered truck. I walked over as he leaned out the driver side window to get a better look at me.
“You the collector?” He asked the gas mask, muffling his voice.
I nodded and he thumbed behind him.
“Hop in man, we’ll drop you off on the way”.
I didn’t waste any time and quickly threw my things in the back of the covered five ton. I chambered into the shadowy interior. Half of the metal benches inside were occupied by the hunched over shapes of marines with combat loads, rifles slung over their chests. Arms crossed as some shivered in their MOPP gear. Some opted to not wear their gas masks as lit cigarettes hung from their lips. Stacks of framed alice packs filled the empty space from across the benches. I settled in my icy seat as a few of the marines offered grunts of acknowledgement.
The truck let out a hiss before speeding off with delay. There was little sound besides the rumble of the engines as the scent of burning diesel and cigarette smoke hit my nostrils. I gazed out the back of the truck as the convoy passed half buried wreckages of cars and remains of what were once police checkpoints.
The uncomfortable silence was finally broken as one of the younger marines turned to look at me. A question deep in his mind.
“I gotta ask, why do you collectors do this shit? Ain’t most of you civies?”
I snapped out of my own trance as I pivoted to him. I offered a shrug
“Most of us are, but we all got our reasons. Just like all of you I’m sure”.
“But we’re kind of forced to be here. You can just leave…right?” He asked naively and I quietly scoffed at this.
“You must be new around here, we can’t leave even if we wanted to”.
This seemed to deflate his desire to ask more questions as his shoulders slumped but he remained silent. The truck continued to rumble as it negotiated a large pothole that had no doubt only gotten bigger from the year or so of non-existent repairs.
The convoy stopped just shy of entering a semi crowded parking lot. Some cars were still left. Many of the windows had already been smashed, the tires slashed, or missing entirely. Even with the snow I could still see piles of scorched tires. Half frozen corpses still buckled into their seats. Some clutched their loved hands never letting go even after death, some clutched icy weapons that could never save them. All too common sight nowadays, a constant reminder for those like me. Doomed to join the frost.
A multistory behemoth of concrete and faded store logos jutted out over the horizon that was once a mall. Its numerous frosted over windows hide its spiraling depths from my vision. I could feel the five ton slowing to a stop as it let out another hiss before falling motionless. Without a word I stood up from my seat and dropped my gear out of the truck before hopping out myself with a grunt.
“Good luck collector”
One of the marines bid me as I departed. I took a deep breath before reaching for my carrier bag on my hip for my gas mask. I quickly donned it and pulled over the chemical hood, zipping it tight. The marines only stared at me as their convoy sped away, leaving me to my own devices. I reached for the receiver that hung on the straps of my bag and quickly keyed in.
“Nest, I’m on site, not seeing much yet. Looks pretty standard.”
“Standard as in…?” she responded with a pause for me to elaborate.
“Not seeing any shells, still some bodies around. Atleast not any fresh ones. Gonna load up, over.”
“Well you know the deal, try to take lots of pictures and get a live feed if you can”.
“Got it”. I said as I hung up my handset on the strap of my bag. I kneeled down and began to key in my code for the case. With a soft click it slotted open. I grabbed my thirty eight and my twelve gauge. I began to load it up with double ought buckshot. I chambered a shell into the chamber and quietly walked over to the smashed front door.
The interior was dimly lit from the half covered sky light. I could still see the outlines of abandoned storefronts hanging in the empty interior. Trash and various articles of debris dotted the floor. I stooped under the half shattered as my boots crunched under shards of glass.
“Making entry” I quietly spoke into my handset as I stepped inside.
A long hallway of looted storefronts and barred doors spiraled ahead of me.
“Copy get me a live feed scepter.”
Next responded with a less carefree tone. I reached for the shoulder mounted cam. I switched it on and set it to record.
“Live feed up”. I replied as I slung my shotgun up.
“Patching in, standby”. She stated as my camera made a few whirring noises. I reached for my belt and grabbed a flashlight, quickly switching it on to illuminate the long hallway, finally I could hear static from my radio as Nest finally chimed in.
“Alrighty, patched in! You know what to do. I’ll keep watching the feed”.
“On it” I responded softly as I carefully walked past some of the shadowy storefronts. I shined my light in as I made my way past.
The fronts that weren’t barred were completely barren from looting. I could feel the bitter air still clutch me tightly in its frigid embrace. My mask lenses fogged up slightly as I breathed out warm air.
Despite how bright my light was. The darkness of the hallway seemed to swallow the beam itself. I continued forward as I passed flickering neon signs that illuminated the floating dust particles kicked up by my boots.
I passed the hallway into the main atrium. The main skylight acted like a beacon of brightness in the rest of the lightless mall. A maze of escalators and stairs twisted around the multistory atrium. It was almost beautiful in a way.. How calm and quiet everything was now. The crowds that strangled every inch of this place either fled like roaches into the rehabitation camps or became one of the wandering shells. Not it was just us and those who don’t belong here.
I was snapped out of my thoughts as I heard the distinct sound of a phone ringing. I looked over to see several worn pay phones lined up against the nearby balcony. The ringing reverberated the empty halls as I hesitated to answer it.
“Scepter? What's wrong?”
Nest asked with a twinge of concern in her voice.
“Got uh…a audio irregularity here Nest”
I said attempting to regain my radio etiquette. Despite my hesitation to answer it, it was still ringing. It should have stopped ringing by now.
“The phone?” She asked with a hint of hesitation.
“Yeah it's still ringing”. I stated slightly unnerved by the constant ringing
“Go ahead and answer it. Don’t say anything unless it's necessary. I’ll listen in”.
I sighed into the mic before replying to her
“Copy”
I approached the still ringing phone. I shined my flashlight on the box itself. It had a deep layer of dust covering its exterior. I noticed a lot of the wiring was completely exposed with the insulation of the wiring almost completely stripped from the cables. Parts of it looked to be snapped off completely from being chewed on by rats.
“Nest, I don’t think the wiring is even intact enough for it to even work. This place part of the blackout zone?”
“I can see from here it's not. As for power, it's in blackout zone five last I checked. Could be a backup generator that's still running. Look into it after you answer it.”
“Got it”
I said as I picked up the receiver and put it to where my ears would be under the chemical hood. I heard slight static from the other side as I quietly listened for any sound I could pick up.
I could hear someone else listening on the other end just like I was. I considered saying something as the silence only began to sink in further but decided against it. Instead I slowly tapped the receiver a few times with my clunky chemical gloves.
I knew whatever was on the other side heard it when what I can only describe as a sharp inhale, from something that had greater lung capacity than a human. I heard a voice straining itself like it was trying to speak for the first time. The line went back to muted static again. I kept listening for a few more moments and I could now hear what sounded like the usual kind of music you hear when you get put on hold.
Something about it was wrong at your first listen; it might sound like a normal song. Something you might hear in a mall or an elevator. Maybe some old department store. Unassuming, unremarkable.
The notes that played I quickly took note that some of them were out of tune, some didn’t even sound like they were played correctly. Like it was a song based on someone else’s memory alone.
I looked down at the receiver, staring at the weather worn phone. Still emitting that strange music. I hesitated to hang up yet. Especially since nest was still listening.
“Hang up.” Said Nest with a more harsh edge to her voice.
I quietly set the phone back in its place, finally silencing it. I grabbed my handset for my radio. I held down the button to say something but any words I could say refused to leave my mouth. I let the button go as I released my gloved finger.
I started walking again, this time with my free hand on my holster. I suppressed the sound of my heavy winter boots as I best I could while also avoiding stepping on any shards of glass or loose paper. I could tell nest was watching the feed closely.
“Got a floorplan for this place?”
I asked her quietly
“Standby” she said with added professionalism.
I sighed softly and silently wished I was somewhere else. I took out one of my disposable cameras and snapped a few quick photos of my surroundings. Including that strange pay phone. Eventually I heard Nest back on the net.
“From what I can there’s a series of maintenance tunnels that lead to some kind of…utility room? Seems large enough to house a generator.”
I softly tapped my rubberized boot for a moment in thought.
“If it was running all this time it should have been out of juice by now”.
Nest was silent for a few moments but I couldn’t tell her finger was on the receiver from the slight static through my hand mic.
“Look into it please, you should be able to get into maints through one of the storefronts.” She replied after a slight pause.
“Got it”. I replied as I shined my light into one of the storefronts.
I got a closer look through the amber beam of my flashlight. Most of the arcade cabinets were still inside. The colorful fonts and vibrant artwork sprawled across the peeling plastic stared indifferently at my form as I gazed inside. The way in was half covered by metal bars. I kneeled down to get a better look inside. Honestly it was in better shape than most of the storefronts in comparison. It seemed like the looters didn’t see much point in ransacking this place, that might not be a good sign.
I crouched in careful not to strike the barred food with any of my gear or my alice pack. The air inside still carried a deathly frigidity to it. Despite being sheltered from much of the wind’s wrath. Even with all of the insulated MOPP gear on, the cold didn’t relent.
I stood up and looked around my weathered surroundings, my footsteps softened on the faded starlike carpet. The beam from my light source reflected off the arcade machine’s screens. Some of them were cracked or had a thin layer of frost covering them. I passed the once colorful prize corner, its cheaply made winnings were still stocked, hardly even touched. As splotchy and worn they were. Not even the looters wanted that shit. I peered around the arcade looking for my way into the tunnels. I finally sighted a set of double industrial doors just past the two racing game machines. The pho double racing seats jutted out from the ultra wide screen of the machine. I passed by the barely legible titles of Dayton USA and Sega Rally as I got closer to the door.
I glanced up at the lightless exit sign that hung above the doorway. My hand grasped the handle and turned it quietly only to find it locked. I took a step back and sent a swift kick into the door. The rusted hinges didn’t offer much resistance as the door flew open to a door hallway. I peeked my head around the corner as the light illuminated clinical white walls, various piping and exposed cables jutted out from the walls. The hallway was silent with even the sound of howling wind not reaching this place.
I trudged forward not exactly eager to continue on, but I resigned myself to do so. Then finally somewhere deep within the darkness beside my vision, I could hear something stirring in the lightless corridor, music, just music. This time it was different from how I heard it on the phone. Loud and clear, no longer strangled by the static of the payphone’s receiver.
The tone was melodic, probably an older song, with lots of classical instruments. It was soothing almost unnaturally so. Like a lullaby from your childhood, it almost sounded familiar to me. Like something that lingered in the back of my mind, despite how many years had passed. Where have I heard this before?
I switched off the flashlight and stowed it on my webbing. I groped for my dimmer headlamp and turned it on. I unslung the shotgun from over my shoulder and half pumped it to check for the shell’s presence in the chamber.
“Please be careful” I heard Nest say with a hint of nervousness in her voice.
I looked down at my handset as she made this remark. She was right. I did need to be careful. I was alone, no one was there to watch my back. No one was there to patch me up or carry me out if I couldn’t make my own way out. If I went down no one was here to carry me to safety. Something could easily leap from the darkness and slit my throat before I even had the chance to fire off a single shell. If I had to run in this heavy gear would I even make it? Even if I dropped my ruck. I would drop my only lifeline to the outside world with it. I tightened my grip on my shotgun to keep my hands from shaking.
I took a deep breath as the music echoed in some distant corner of the tunnel. I started carefully moving down the hallway. I held my shotgun close to me, the music only grew louder as I walked deeper into the shadows for what seemed like an eternity.
“Switching to open mic.” I said softly into my radio as I set it to hot mic my every word, I needed my hands free for what came next. Nest didn’t reply this time.
The hallway finally led to an open doorway. Which proceeded a middling room that seemed to be some kind of storage or utility room. Something made me stop dead in my tracks. Two dead bodies lay on the cracked concrete floor in newly made winter clothes. I raised my shotgun as I creeped past the threshold of the doorway. I quickly scanned the room for any kind of threats. I checked my corners. Double checked the doorway behind me to ensure I wasn’t followed here. I did everything by the book. I couldn’t find anything inside minus the bodies.
The utility room seemed to originally house some shelving and circuit breakers but now it seemed to be converted into some kind of makeshift sleeping area of sorts. Two winter sleeping bags were laid out as well as some various other amenities. A kerosene stove, a cooler, and some burnt out flashlights. The floor was covered in torn open bright yellow packaging from handed out HDRs, patriotically colored foil wrappers, stamped on cardboard food packets with half torn American flags and a small bold text that read:
‘food gift from the people of the united states of america.’
‘Nest got two bodies here, look to be vagrants. Gonna look them over.”
“Heard”
I kneeled down beside the first corpse. They were dressed in soaked winter clothes, scarves and all. They were laying face down. I grabbed their shoulders and turned them over. The pale lifeless face of a man in his mid thirties with his eyes wide open stared back at me. The warmth had been completely sapped from his body by the cold air, must have been dead for at least ten hours but it could have been longer.
I started to cut open the clothes with a pair of trauma shears from my belt to see if I could get a better look at any wounds that could have killed him. I noted quickly I didn’t see any kind of wounds or massive trauma that could have did him in, hell I didn’t even see a single drop of blood on him. If I hadn’t known any better I would have said the cold took him.
The other corpse was in the same state. Ice cold, pale, no wounds, no blood, nothing. The clothes they were wearing should have protected them plenty from hypothermia or frostbite. Even if their clothes got wet. It was almost like they just gave up on living all together.
I snapped a few pictures of the bodies and the room itself. Nest was still quiet.
“Nest these bodies-” She interrupted me.
“I know just take some samples and-”
Something finally dawned on me, the music had gotten much louder now. Nest had noticed it too. I stood up to stare at where the music was coming from. I waited for it to draw closer beyond the closed doors but it never did.
I slowly approached the door with my shotgun at the ready. I swung the door open only to see utter darkness staring back at me. I shined my headlamp into the darkness, the shadows seemed to swallow the beam from my light. This wasn’t any natural darkness. The music itself seemed to be coming from the shadows themselves, despite the pitch blackness, I could see what seemed to be particles of dust and snow swaying in the air within the symphony. Waves of heat vibrated in the air in that supernatural darkness.
I never thought I would ever get close to one of these. I felt gusts of hot and cold air brush past me. It was mesmerizing honestly, I felt myself go into a small trance, it seemed like I found the source of the strange activity.
“Nest got a positive ID on a musician here”.
“I can see that…what's it doing?”
She inquired as the peaceful music continued to play and echo in the halls. I observed it for a moment before finally replying.
“It's humming”. I replied as I lowered my shotgun.
“Did it kill those two?”
Nest asked me softly.
I looked back over at the two unmoving bodies then back at the musician, gazing at it for a second.
“Unlikely, I don’t see any burns on them.”
As I said this I could hear something different. The fluorescent overhead light tubes began to softly buzz above me. I was sure the power was completely dead besides that phone. My doubts began to fester as they began to flicker on and off.
I felt a pit forming in my stomach as the lights continued to act up. Even the burnt out flashlights nearby began to flicker to life. Nothing about this was right, nothing about this made any sense. I needed to leave and fast.
“N-nest permission to-”
I stopped myself mid sentence. There was another sound. I waited, I listened. I heard it, somewhere close by but I couldn’t tell where. The sound of scrapping metal began to draw near. It almost sounded like it was coming from all around, every angle, every corner. I prepared myself for the task ahead, fighting for my survival. I kept turning and turning trying to point the barrel of my weapon at the source of this sound.
“Scepter? What's wrong? What do you hear?” She asked with dread seeping into her usually calming voice. I debated telling her that I was cutting the job short and ditching it, but it was probably too late now.
“Hold traffic”. I said as I curled my finger around the trigger, I waited for anything to move to make itself a target. But it only got quieter, even the musician’s ever present melody fell silent. The only sound I could hear now was the buzzing from the lights above me.
I continued to look around my surroundings. My heart started to beat faster like it was about to burst out of my chest at any moment. I felt sweat begin to build up under my stuffy MOPP suit.
I froze in place, there was only one place I hadn’t checked. Right above me. The musician suddenly blared out a series of notes much louder than before. The walls seemed to vibrate from the volume, it was much different from the song it was humming a few moments ago.
This song was fast paced, suspenseful like something you might hear in a good horror movie. I realized something at that moment, it was warning me. I didn’t have a chance to wonder why as I looked up
What I saw hanging from the ceiling was something I could hardly put into words. Where would I even start with describing what I saw?
My eyes burned when I looked at it, tears began to overtake my vision. The lenses on my gas mask began to fog up.
I could hear my radio crackling with some kind of interference. My trigger felt like it weighed fifty pounds. It was reaching out to me but I quickly noticed it didn’t have any hands. What I remember the most was its misshapen smile or maybe it was a sneer. I couldn’t tell. I finally squeezed the trigger.
I was quickly glad I chose buckshot this time otherwise I probably would have missed. I slam fired two shells into it. I know I hit it but it didn’t stop it. I was confident that it took off an arm if you could call it that. But it did give me just enough time to bolt for the door.
“Class five! Class five!” I yelled into the radio as my hand grasped the doorknob. I swung the door open and slammed it shut behind me
My heavy boots stomped loudly as I took off in a dead sprint down the never ending hallway. I could hardly see where I was going out of the foggy lenses.
“Get the fuck out of there Locke!”
I could hear Nest scream through the crackling interference of my radio.
That's when I heard those god awful sounds coming from behind me. The door behind bulged as it slammed into it with its endless body. The door began to bend and twist as its writhing appendages reached through the jagged gaps in the door. The sounds it made, like nothing I had ever heard in all my years of being a collector. A deep rumbling murmur shook my surroundings. The sound traveled through my body as this hum only increased in volume. The lights flicked rapidly as they were reanimated. My breathing only increased in rhythm as I reached the double doors back to the arcade. I could hear the sound of the door behind finally giving away as it flew off its hinges and slammed into the ground.
I shoulder checked the next door open, quickly shutting it behind me, that's when I noticed the arcade began to flicker alight. It wasn’t just the lights this time, it was the arcade machines too.
The dusty screens and debris-ridden speakers began to reanimate. Light filled the forgotten arcade, slow and sputtering at first, like something waking up that shouldn’t. Colored bulbs cracked to life one by one, blinking and stuttering like fireflies drowning in static. The machines, long-dead and dust-caked, flickered to their attract modes. Glitched gameplay previews stuttered across the screens, voices warbled through shredded speakers.
One cabinet, deep in the row behind me, let out a warped shriek.
“DAY… TONAAAAAAA!”
It was blown out, distorted, far too loud for such a hollow space. The sound hit my chest like a shockwave; cheerful, enthusiastic, completely wrong. It echoed through the arcade like something remembering how to be alive, even if it didn’t understand why.
Even through the flashing lights and mechanical noise, I heard it: the door creaking open. The one I knew I had locked.
It slithered. It crawled. It walked, all at once, but never made a sound when it moved. I ducked low behind a row of jammed cabinets, trying not to breathe too loud. My gear felt like dead weight now.
I tried to keep my breathing as quiet as possible even with the adrenaline pumping into my veins. I was hardly able to stand up with how much my legs were shaking.
Even though it didn’t make a sound when it moved. I could still hear a very muffled creak from the floor itself from its mass. It whirred and warbled; it almost sounded like it was mechanical in nature instead of coming from a living thing.
The doorway was close but not close enough for me to make a mad dash for it without it catching up to me before I could crawl back under the barred door.
I slowly reached on my belt for something I had been saving for a rainy day just like this, an incendiary grenade. It felt like it took a lifetime for me to unhook it from my webbing without alerting it to my presence.
I let my shotgun hang from the sling across my chest as I took off the various safety pins on the grenade. I slowly peeked through a gap between two machines. I could see its massive form almost covering the entire gap. I slowly pied the corner with my finger on the pin of the grenade, ready to pull at any time. I peeked my head around the corner. It wasn’t facing me this time. It was completely still, listening for the smallest sounds.
I twisted and pulled the pin with considerable force. I knew it heard it because it stopped making those god awful sounds. My arms felt heavy as lead. I fought my shaking hands to keep my thumb on the clip to keep it from going off in my hand.
It turned to look at me with that smile that was too wide, too misshapen. That's when I realized, it wasn’t smiling. It just didn’t have any lips for its spiraling maw. Its many eyes stared right into me.
Every single cell of my body screamed at me to run, to hide. I grit my teeth and finally tossed the grenade.
I didn’t know if the live feed was still active, I hoped it was but I know this must have been hard for her to watch but at least she had the common sense to stay quiet while this thing was after me. I felt tempted to turn off the live feed so she didn’t have to watch me get ripped apart by this thing. What little chances I had, lay in that cylinder of thermite.
The grenade landed right next to it. It glanced over at it with its many independently blinking eyes. That's when it finally went off, first thing I saw was the smoke then the grenade hissing harshly as it released a cone of sparks. The mold covered carpet was the first thing to catch aflame.
I expected to hear it screeching, screaming. Anything but it was silent. Normally a lot of these things scream when fire touches them. They hate it more than anything else.
I took my chance and dashed for the doorway as the smoke began to fill the room. I reached the barred door and practically threw my body through the gap. I slammed it shut and made sure it couldn’t be opened this time. My breathing was ragged as I laid on the floor covered in sweat. Smoke had finally claimed the majority of the room, obscuring my view of its interior.
I was about to push myself back up and continue running but something stopped me. An orange glow could be seen through the thick smoke. That's when I saw it, it was still alive. It emerged from the smoke. Its entire form engulfed in flames. That's when I realized how tall it really was. It stooped down to gaze at me. The flames didn’t seem to bother it as its flesh began to char.
I aimed my shotgun at it with my unsteady hands as it continued to stare at me from its side of the barred door. Its lipless maw began to move like it was trying to speak. I was glued to the spot as I could only stare at it with wide eyes as they stinged from looking at it.
Its appendages wrapped themselves around the bar, still staring down at me. I felt thoughts that weren’t my own enter my mind. A single word kept repeating itself over and over again from a voice I never heard in my life.
“Reanimator” It continued to echo in the confines of my skull.
Finally my radio screamed to life once again and I heard nest’s calming voice over the net. She only said one word.
“Run”
This seemed to snap me out of my trance. I pushed myself to my feet and took off down the hallway. The lights around me were flashing wildly as my legs burned from all the gear I was running with. I rounded the corner, entering the main atrium again.
I came to a screeching halt at what I saw next. Everything was back to normal, all the decay, all the disrepair. It was gone. The lights were back, the biting cold air had vanished entirely. The mall wasn’t just repaired, it was alive again. There were people. There were families and groups of teenagers meeting up at the food court after school. All walking by at a leisurely pace for a slow afternoon of shopping, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
The people looked normal enough at first. Nirvana shirts, jeans, the newest kicks. All wearing bright summer wear but I couldn’t see any of their faces. They weren’t missing them entirely, they were fuzzy like trying to take a picture of someone’s face when the camera was out of focus.
They didn’t even seem to notice I was there. Some of them even walked right through me like I was a hologram. I was lost, lost in more ways than I could possibly imagine. I reached for my radio in vain hope that I could still reach Nest.
“Nest…can you hear me?”
I desperately wished to hear Nest's nonchalant voice over the net. I could only hear static from the other end, I was truly alone in this mall of ghosts.
The various shop fronts were stocked again. The windows were pristine and undamaged. I could see the out of focus people lazily walking back and forth between the aisles like it was just another day for them. Some of them occupied the colorful seating of the food court and gestured to each other like they were having casual conversations, but the only sounds I could hear from them were indistinct mumblings and murmurs of echoes of human voices.
Sometimes I missed those days, I missed feeling safe. I missed coming back home to her smiling face. I missed the simple monotony of a nine to five. Hell I even missed those annoying ass jingles they played for ads on daytime TV. I missed it all. I began to wonder if this is where I would spend the rest of my days, wandering in this endless mall. Unseen, unnoticed. Bound to this mockery of normal life.
I trapsed forward not sure where to go at this point besides the exit I came from. I passed the now pristine pay phones. One of them began to ring suddenly. I immediately stopped where I was.
I sighed softly and slowly walked towards the still ringing phone. That's when I felt a warm hand grasping my shoulder. I turned sharply, bringing my shotgun to bear. Staring back at me was a young woman in her mid twenties. Her face was different from the others, her face was in focus, she had delicate features. Jet black hair with long bangs. She had unnaturally pale eyes.
“You shouldn’t answer that”.
She said in a soft yet firm tone. I ripped free from her grip and backed away from her still aiming my shotgun at her.
“Why not?” I asked in a flat tone.
“You don’t want to know what it will tell you”.
I lowered my shotgun slightly
“It?” I asked not liking where this was going.
“The reanimator”
I was silent for a moment debating on what I should even do at this point.
“Who are you?” I asked warily
She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly as she regarded me.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you”
I opened my mouth to ask her another question but she cut me off.
“No more questions Locke, you need to leave this place.”
“How?” I asked with hesitation, unnerved she knew my name. I know she probably wouldn’t tell me how she knew.
“Same way you came in. You don’t have much time. It's coming. You want to see Lorraine again don’t you?”
My eyes widened as I was stunned into silence. I finally mustered up some words to respond to her.
“Y..yes”
“Then go,” She said with a wave of her hand.
The last thing I saw her do was wink at me before she turned and walked a few steps away from me and her form faded entirely from my vision.
Then I heard that horrifying yet familiar humming, it was close. I knew I couldn’t hide from it. Fighting it was a losing battle. All I could do was run and pray for my survival. That's exactly what I did at that moment. I ran like I never ran before in my entire life.
The humming was getting closer even as I increased my speed. I finally saw my way out, the doors I took to get inside the mall, now a pristine set of sliding glass doors.
Outside I could see a familiar sight. Snow covered streets, the wreckages of cars, the frozen corpses. I slammed the doors open as I barreled myself outside using the last vestiges of my energy and will to live.
I panted as I continued sprinting into the knee deep snow not caring about the gear getting covered in snow. My radio began to squawk at me as I heard Nest's worried voice over comms.
“Scepter! Scepter come in!”
“I’m here!” I could hear Nest sigh in relief from the other end.
“Thank fuck! Your feed cut and I couldn’t reach you.”
I took a deep breath in and out.
“I’m okay…I’m- sorry” I said in between breaths
“No shut up, just…get back safe”
I turned to look back at the mall once again, it was in disrepair, ruined, worn down. The neon sign above the doorway that read ‘grover mall’ began to flicker. I cursed under my breath and raised my shotgun to my shoulder.
I saw its body coil itself by the doorway. Its infinite eyes stared back at me as I backed away from the mall. It observed me for a second before it suddenly recessed its measureless form back within the confines of the mall. I don’t know why it didn’t come after me. Nest made one last transmission for awhile
“Okay…the money will be in a dead drop. Pick up is ten minutes away. Nest out.”
I sighed and turned away from that awful place and walked down the treacherous road to await pick up. I always tried to avoid that place when taking contracts. I wish I could say I never did collector work again but I was in no place to quit. I went back to that church. Smoked a couple cigs, stared into the embers of the pastor’s fire and went out to do it all over again, the next day but I never went back to Blackout Zone Five.