Author's Note: Sorry for delay, was a hectic few weeks. I'll try and start updating on a weekly basis from now on. Thank you for the reviews I've gotten so far. Hope you all like this new chapter. Later.
6:05 A.M.
"Yo bitch! You in my seat!"
The words rang out through the small holding cell, snapping young Victor Hendricks out of his unconscious state. His vision was blurred, his head was pounding, but he had remembered all the events of last night. The drinking, the graffiti, and the eventual arrest that followed. Victor was a senior in high school, and there was exactly one month left until graduation day, which meant the freedom to escape this town. But right now, that freedom was in serious jeopardy, as was his posterior at this particular moment. That startling sentence had gone straight through his ears and stirred him from his position on the dingy brown bench.
"Huh?" Victor asked wearily. Giving his eyes a chance to refocus, he saw the figure of a rather large, muscular Hispanic guy. It took Victor a few moments to recognize the man to be only a few years older than he was. The expression on Victor's face went from startled, to somewhat annoyed. Victor lowered his head again, as the Spanish guy just let out a series of short chuckles.
"How's your head feeling'?" The Spanish guy asked, shifting his footing a little bit. He was not some dangerous gang member or some degenerate junkie. He was Marcos Tavares, a local that graduated from Victor's high school about five years ago. They had known each other through Victor's brother Phil, who lived way down in Georgia now with a girl he met from college. Being that it was so cheap down there compared to New York, Phil and his fiancée already owned their own one-story, two-bedroom home for just over a hundred grand. Right now though, Victor was in New York, and in jail, and somewhat pissed off.
Very slowly, he tried to sit up, and was eventually helped out by Hyde Park's newest patrol man. Victor smirked as Marcos helped him up, and then would kneel down in front of his face. A burp emitted out of Victor's mouth, causing Marcos to turn his head in some disgust, but he couldn't help himself but laugh.
"Damn, kid," Marcos uttered between laughs, "how much did you drink last night?"
"Shit if I know." Victor said as he winced, squinting his eyes and shielding with his hand to block out the light. It was dim, but it was enough to add to that vicious hangover. "What time is it?"
"It's about five after six," Marcos remarked after taking a look at his black Nokia, "you're in my cousin Ray's class right?"
Ray Hernandez, star running back of the Hyde Park Panthers, one of the most popular guys with the ladies...Victor couldn't stand him.
"Yeah," Victor responded with a nod, "why you ask?"
"You really must have hit that tap last night bitch." Marcos remarked, laughing and slapping Victor on the shoulder with that huge, bulky ham hock that he called a hand. "You got a field trip in like half an hour don't you?"
"Oh shit!" Victor suddenly jerked forward, perhaps too fast as his he now felt like he was going to throw up. The combination of thinking that his parents were going to kill him and missing the best part of senior year as pertaining to school, had him suddenly keeled over in the far corner. Another guy, who smelled like he lived in a dumpster was sitting right next to him, and just coming back around into consciousness himself. His disgustingly filthy hand came up, patting the damp, sweaty mass of graying black hair, beady eyes holding a stare on Victor's form as Marcos came over to help him up.
"If he throws up on me, I can sue!" The still inebriated man said, raising his index finger up in the air. After a brief maniacal laugh, he just shut up again, his head lolling to the side and eyes blinking slowly, Marcos just smirked, helping up Victor, who hadn't thrown up, but did go into a series of slow dry heaves.
"Alright, take it easy bro. I'll go drive you home, you get changed, I'll drive you back to the school." Marcos explained slowly for the young nauseous man. As Victor sat back down on the bench, Marcos reached into the breast pocket of his uniform, taking out a small, dark blue colored cell phone. "Look, I'll even call Ray to let them know that you're going to be like five minutes late, you know just in case?"
"Thanks dude." Muttered Victor, who had just about sat long enough. Slowly getting up, he made his way over towards the bars to the holding cell. His hands reached up grabbing them, the front of his face wedging into a pair of bars so that his button nose would stick out just slightly. Calling Ray meant that the whole class, and his teachers, would know that Victor had gotten locked up for the night. It was an added headache to be sure, but it was still a nice gesture by Marcos. Good thing that him and his brother were tight, or else there was good chance that he would not be going to Coaster Nation. And it was also a good thing that he would be getting away from the condescending glare of Officer Brandt, who was just finishing up covering a night shift. If all the teenagers and other young party animals joined together to vote for the one cop that they despised the most, Brandt would most likely take it by a landslide.
The light jingling of keys could be heard off to the right of Victor now, as Marcos was opening the cell door. Victor took a quick side step and walked out of his one night residence, a loud sigh of relief passing through his lips. The very thought of just being out of the cell was liberating, Victor would find out, his thoughts quickly interrupted by two very loud noises. The first one was the more welcome, with Marcos slamming the cell door shut once more. In a way, it signified the end of a hellacious night, and one experience that Victor would never want to go through again. The second sound followed quickly, and it was the sound of a gunshot ringing through the station.
"What the fuck?" Marcos said as everyone around him jumped at the sound.
Victor's eyes, once blurred were now alert, even though the gunshot did nothing to remedy his headache. Brandt moved around the desk as quick as his two hundred and forty pound frame would allow him, with another officer sprinting towards the door to the main office. Unclasping the button on his holster as he moved, the middle-aged man waited for Brandt to accompany him. Brandt got his gun out, holding it up in both hands, his forearms leaning against the wall to be ready to fire at anything that moved inside. With a scowl, Brandt gave a head nod to Marcos. Marcos would just smirk, shaking his head from side to side. But nevertheless, he obeyed the command from the senior officer, moving in a jog over to the door, his head turning to look over his shoulder at Victor.
"Just wait here for a few seconds," Marcos shouted once he reached the door, "Stillman's gun just probably went off again."
Victor nodded his head, turning around to his holding cell once more as he heard the door opening and the officers scurrying off to the main room. The bum in there was sleeping against the wall again, and it was a nice reminder of what Victor's life just might be like if he didn't decided to enroll in community college. No stay in school video could touch the real experience of the helplessness of being locked up in a small room. They didn't show the real thing, the downright terrible mixture of urine and stale sweat that bellowed out of these cells.
A loud crashing sound from the next room got Victor's attention. The oak doors were strong, almost soundproof, so the sounds coming from the next room must have reached the peak of the decibel level. He had been told to stay put, and Marcos demanded the respect that he would give him. But the muffled screams that would follow, adding in with additional gunshots from the room in question could not be ignored. Turning slightly on his heels, the first few footsteps were soft, but his pace quickened once he was within a mere ten feet of the door. Putting his ear to the door, the sounds outside were getting louder, three more gunshots could be heard ringing out, followed by a several series of screams and obscenities. He had heard someone barking orders on the other side of the door, but the sound that jolted him was the heavy banging against the door he was leaning against.
The banging continued once more as Victor jumped back, almost tripping over his own feet. Before he could react to anything else, the door flew open from the other side. Victor backed up another few feet as his eyes went wide once again. An Asian looking woman was running towards him frantically, hands waving around in the air and a large stain on her lime green blouse. The stain was a dark color, but by the drops of red dotting her arms and legs, the wheels in Victor's head were repeating the word, "blood". The woman dropped her arms and almost knocked Victor over when she ran into him. The other two people who had slipped through the doors were Brandt and another unrecognizable cop. They slammed the door shut before Victor could get a good look at just what was going on, but with the blood one the woman who was now clinging to him, he could only guess that it was bad.
"Benzinger, pull my cruiser around!" Brandt exclaimed, tossing the keys over at the obviously shaken cop. He dropped the keys, but quickly picked them up, sprinting towards the back door. Brandt then turned his attention towards Victor and the woman. "You two, get something to barricade this door!"
Victor was already in mid sprint when Brandt finished his sentence, with the woman following behind him at half-speed. Victor didn't know where he was going, but he needed to find something big enough. Would he be able to lift it though, was another question running through his mind. There wasn't any time to think about these things though, as the tone in Brandt's voice and this trashy looking woman disposition were genuine enough to warrant an emergency. Victor stopped in his tracks, the woman bumping into him when he did, like a scene out of a bad comedy. One of the offices were open, and his eyes spotted a wooden desk with a computer and some picture frames on it. He moved quickly, as the sounds of Brandt cursing at the top of his lungs was enough motivation to shove all the papers and excess junk off of the floor, while the woman just stood at the door. She was content to just shift her gaze from Victor to Brandt, and back again while her entire body was shaking.
"What the fuck is taking so long?!" Brandt bellowed from his position.
"Hold on a few more seconds, this shit is heavy!" Victor just shouted back as they were finally getting the desk out the doorway. Another quick turn around the corner and they were only twenty yards away from the door. Victor moved around to the side closest to the exit, pushing with all his might as the woman had seemingly given up on the task at hand. "Get ready to move!"
As Victor slowly closed in on the target, Brandt sidestepped and moved to help Victor push. On the outside, the door was still vibrating heavily from the other side, as screams could still be heard, but the gunshots had altogether died out. One of the bronze hinges were bending now, and finally popped out of the top of the door. They got the desk in front just in time, as the door was now positioned at an odd diagonal angle. The ten inches of space that was available were enough for Victor's eyes to finally see what was going on. The large main room looked more like a war zone now, bodies strewn across the floor, and even one positioned sitting inside of a tall glass casing. There were people in raggedy clothing moving around the room at quick paces, as Victor watched on for a few brief seconds of horror. There were at least five or six of them on their knees, digging with their hands and their teeth. They were digging into another person, a thirty-something year old officer, just ripping off his shirt and sinking their teeth into his flesh. The man's eyes caught Victor's, as if they were pleading for him to help.
"C'mon, let's go!"
If Brandt hadn't yelled into Victor's ears, he might have not been able to snap out of it. Victor turned his head, moving quickly and following Brandt and the Asian woman. Brandt was in the lead, turning the corner away from the exit for a few moments to go into another room. Before Victor and the woman could proceed inside, Brandt came out with a pump action shotgun, and two Glock 37's. Victor watched with some awe as the gun was placed in his hand. He had always been a fan of these cop type movies, and always wondered what it would be like to have a gun in his hand. Despite these dreams, he would be able to get over it and follow the shotgun wielding officer to the backdoor.
The timing couldn't have been any better. As soon as Brandt opened the door, Benzinger was just pulling up in front. Brandt ran out, looking from side to side as he opened the back door to the white and blue issued car.
"Get in!" Brandt ordered, and Victor and the woman would be more than happy to oblige.The woman sprinted towards the door, sliding into the back of the vehicle while Victor followed suit. He looked down to the driveway, seeing that there was another person running towards them. His eyes squinted, and suddenly went wide as he saw the figure of Marcos running towards them at full speed, even though there was nobody behind him. Victor was about to call out, but Brandt just shoved him with all of his strength, and Victor would fall into the car, head knocking into the Spanish woman's. Marcos caught up with them finally, sliding to a halt as Brandt motioned for him to get in the backseat. Brandt slammed the door and within a few seconds, he got into the passenger's seat and the car was speeding down the driveway.
Marcos was breathing heavily, as was Victor and practically everyone else in the car, with the exception of Brandt. Victor still didn't know what was going on, but was also afraid to ask. The Spanish woman next to him started crying, talking to herself in her native dialect. For the moment though, Victor's eyes fell onto the sweating Marcos, who turned his head at Victor finally. His hand rested on Victor's shoulder hard, struggling to get the words out.
"You OK man?" Marcos asked between breaths.
"Yeah, what the hell's going on?" Victor asked, his eyes looking down towards Marcos' left arm. There was a small wound in his bicep, but it was enough to cause a decent amount of blood to cover his forearm in streaks of dark red. Marcos shook his head frantically, wincing while holding his arm.
"I don't know...I don't know. People just went crazy, they started killing and eating everyone in the precinct. One of them bit me man, the son of a bitch fucking bitch me!" Marcos shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Calm down Tavares, we're safe!" Brandt remarked over his shoulder. Victor's mind started racing though once again, as were all of their minds. What exactly was going on? It sounded too unreal to be true...people eating people? It didn't make sense. Victor's gaze strayed from Marcos' arm to the windows, were the outside world was no better. There were people chasing each other on the streets, with a few cars speeding by at around seventy to eighty miles an hour. Victor watched as an older looking Jeep swerved to avoid a crowd of people, jumping the sidewalk and crashing into the front of a liquor store. Another swarm of people were immediately rushing over to the accident site, but not to help the poor driver. Instead, Victor turned his head before he could watch them drag the screaming man out of the car, starting to pick him apart just as they did that one officer in the station. Victor was just hoping that his parents were alright, that everyone he knew was safe. Maybe they were still at home, or maybe they were lucky enough to get to safety with just a small bite mark. Right now though, Victor wasn't sure if he would see any of his loved ones ever again. But he wasn't alone in that feeling.