Author's Note:
Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read, and to those who reviewed. Your compliments have kept a smile on my face for days!
This was a tough one for me. Took me three tries before I got something that I was willing to post. But first, a response to your reviews:
Linchi: Yeah, I figured you probably knew the story, but I thought I'd throw that out there just in case. Definitely disturbing. Congrats on finishing "Red"!
Reinbeauchaser: Believe me, my husband still gives me sarcastic comments about loving the TMNT so much. I got him to watch the first two movies with me a couple months ago, and since then he's actually admitted to liking the cartoon too…As for the guys acting a little wiser, I guess I see them in more of the movie sense then the cartoon. Plus they are quite a bit older (21), so hopefully that explains a lot. Thanks for your comments – they are always insightful!
Pacphys: Thanks! No, I've only seen a few episodes of Buffy, but I think I can picture what it would be like. Thanks for your review!
KC: How's your popcorn? That sounds good right now…
Mickis: I'm still laughing from chapter 4 of Deputy Wildlifers…here's some more Donnie for you!
Blix: Thanks! Don't bounce out of your chair!
Fallen Hikari: Oooh, you're putting ideas in my head…guess you'll have to wait to see if Mike is ok. I can be sure that you won't be eating any pizza while you do! LOL. I still haven't told y'all exactly what's happening, and nobody's totally figured it out either…
Reluctant Dragon: Thanks for your review! Yes, in Dawn of the Dead the only way to definitively kill the already dead zombies was with a shot to the head. But the guys still aren't sure if these people are dead or not…
Sprite: You cracked me up. A whole page?!?!? Holy crap…I'd like to see that (do I sense a challenge being given?) You made my day with your review…mind telling me what other story has you roped in?
Lunar-Ninja: I'd love for Rijinn to review this…it seems more his style!
Quesun: (blush) Thank you. I'm so glad that you're enjoying this – I'm enjoying your story as well! So you're worried about Mikey to - it's going to be just a little longer before you find out how this is spread…
Midnight Heir: Glad to hear from you! I wish that I could answer your question, but I'm trying not to give too much away! I will say that zombie isn't quite the right word…
T: Yes, unfortunately Splinter is dead. Although I didn't say so in the chapter, I guess in my mind he passed from old age. I think I decided to leave him out of this because I have so much trouble writing him…lol, I was trying to make things easier for myself!
Silver Snow Leopard: Hey! I just got your review before I posted this. Glad that you liked it!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Get it? Got it? Good.
Please be aware of violence and swearing.
"United we stand…
Divided we fall?"
CHAPTER 3: DIVIDED
RAPHAEL
From what I'd seen, and definitely from what I'd heard, something was seriously wrong with the two men lying on Casey's apartment floor. I reached for the wall behind me, feeling for the light switch.
"What the…" Casey's voice trailed off as he stepped into the living room. After a brief moment of squinting in the sudden brightness, his eyes widened in disbelief.
Puddles of blood continued to seep into the carpet under the dead bodies. Although I couldn't see the far man's face, the other seemed to be looking right at me. At least with the one eye that he had left. His mouth gaped open, lips twisted into a silent scream as the blood ran from his neck. There was also evidence of some other wounds on his cheek, slightly below his ear. They almost looked like bite marks.
Something had happened to these guys before they attacked Donatello.
Don lightly toed at the man's leg. Seeing no response, he seemed satisfied that the intruder was indeed dead. His gaze shifted to the front door, still hanging crooked in its frame. Tapping his bo against his palm, I watched him move to check the hallway. For once, he was heedless to the possibility of running into any other tenants.
Casey still looked shocked. I don't think he could decide what was more upsetting – the fact that I'd just killed two people, or that I'd made a horrific mess of his living room. I guessed more of latter. Casey wasn't the kind of guy to win any sensitivity awards.
I retrieved my own weapon from the second body, wiping the tip on the dead man's shirt before slipping it back into my belt. Seeing the location of the wound, I couldn't help but grin. Almost perfectly centered. Pretty damn good for in the dark.
"Uh, guys? You wanna take a look at this?" Don asked, standing with his back to us in the doorway. He took a few hesitant steps forward, disappearing around the corner.
Casey and I exchanged glances.
Great. What could possibly be more interesting than in here?
Blood. Lots of it. It painted the walls in fine mist, unlike the congealing puddles in Casey's apartment. Most of it was concentrated right outside the door, underneath a jagged crack in the opposite wall. It looked as if someone had been thrown against it.
A sense of fear still hung in the air, left by the unfortunate soul that bared the brunt of the destruction.
What bothered me most were the red footprints that continued down the hall.
With his fingertips, Don traced along the crack and the wall around it. "This is insane," he whispered, mostly to himself. He turned back to me. "We need to go – I don't wanna risk being seen. Besides, I'll be able to think better when we get back to the lair."
I nodded.
"Casey, you should call the police, before somebody else does." Don continued, throwing a wary look at the neighboring doors.
"And tell them what? I've got two dead guys in my apartment! And look at this," he motioned to the gruesome scene in front of him. "How do I explain this?"
Silence.
"Guys?"
"Just tell them that you went to a movie, came home, and this is what you found," Donatello said, brushing past Casey shoulder. "We don't have time to think of anything better."
"Yeah, that's going to go over well," Casey mumbled. "So Don, can I blame you when they throw my butt in jail?"
Donatello threw up his hands as he walked back into the apartment.
I started to follow after them when my phone went off. Mike. At least it wasn't Leonardo – I was not looking forward to explaining all this to him. He would undoubtedly find some way to twist things into a lecture…
"Mike, I can't talk now. Don and I are just leaving Casey's."
"Are you guys okay?" He sounded anxious.
How did he know something was wrong?
"Yeah, we're fine. Look, I'll talk to you when we get back to the lair."
"Dude, Leo wants you to turn on the TV."
"What? Mike, I told you, I can't-" There was a shuffling noise, and suddenly Leonardo's voice was blaring from the other end.
"Dammit Raphael, turn on the TV!"
I scowled. "You know what Leo? I'm getting really sick of your-"
This time I was cut off by a crash in the kitchen. I whirled, seeing Donatello backpedaling away from something, hauling Casey backwards by his shirt. Both of them scrambled to regain their balance, then froze. Their expressions were locked ahead of them into the next room.
Still holding the phone, I ran to my brother's side, searching for the source of their surprise. When I found it, I felt my body recoil. It was the window that we used to come in and out of Casey's first floor apartment. A woman's face was pressed against it.
Her eyes were cloudy. Menacing. Palms outstretched, she dragged her hands down the side of the glass in repetitive strokes. Smears of saliva coated the area in front of her mouth. It looked as if she'd been licking at the window.
"Raph? Raph! What's going on? Raphael!" Leonardo's muffled voice came from my right hand. I heard his pleas, but I couldn't drag my attention away from the window. The woman's actions were so disturbing; I was mesmerized.
Donatello took the phone away from me.
"Leo, calm down. We've got something really, um, unusual going on over here…Yeah, two guys broke into the place, and…What? On the roof? Is April with you?............Jesus…………Yes, we still have power." Donatello paused, tapping his hand against my shoulder.
"Raph, go look outside. In the living room," he mouthed, still listening to Leonardo on the other end.
I didn't know what I was supposed to look for, but I complied. More crazy people? Did Don think there were more like the two guys and the woman at the window? I slipped my finger in between the vertical blinds, lifting one just enough peer through.
Casey lived on a fairly quiet side street, located in a strictly residential part of the city. It was the main reason why we felt so comfortable spending time here. Very few people would be seen coming and going, especially during the nighttime hours. Which is why I was startled to witness a small crowd running down the middle of the street.
People of all ages. They looked like they were being chased. A car rushed by them, driving up onto the curb to avoid hitting anyone. Another person was huddled in the corner of a covered bus stop, hands wrapped protectively around their head. With my ear so close to the window, the distant shrill of police sirens was barely audible.
Shit.
"Don?"
Donatello lifted his hand, telling me to be quiet. He was still talking to Leonardo, and I could tell that they were disagreeing about something. His voice had risen a few notches.
"Leo, I really think that we should try to get back to the lair…I realize that, but don't you think we could just fight our way through?...Really? Everyone?...No, I'm not sure what's wrong with them." Donatello exhaled sharply out of frustration.
"What did it look like outside?" Casey asked softly, coming to stand beside me.
"People are goin' nuts. There's a big crowd out in the street."
Casey clenched his jaw. His foot was drumming nervously against the floor. I guessed that Don heard what I said, because he made eye contact with me as he continued to talk into the phone.
"Point taken Leo, but-"
Don's head whipped toward the front door. There was nothing there, but I suddenly realized the cause of his concern. Footsteps. Loud, running footsteps.
"Okay Leo, we're going. I'll call you back." He flipped the phone together, then moved toward the basement enterance. He went quickly, motioning for us to follow after him.
I let Casey go first, giving one more bewildered look to the woman at the window. Her actions hadn't changed any. She was like a wind up toy that had gotten stuck in a corner.
Quietly, I jogged down the stairs after Casey. The basement didn't have a door; it bothered me that I couldn't put up a barrier behind us, even if it was more psychological than physical.
The room was how we left it – beer cans were stacked into a pyramid on a card table, pool balls sitting in a rack ready for the next game. One more win and I would have taken home fifty bucks that Casey and I had bet at the beginning of the evening.
It was amazing how much the night had changed in thirty minutes.
"We're going in the storeroom," Donatello told us, sidetracking to one side. He grabbed a clock radio that we had sitting on the card table with the beer cans.
I realized his plan. Or more likely, Leonardo's plan. We were going to barricade ourselves into Casey's tiny back room.
I hesitated, suddenly reluctant to go along with the idea. I recalled Don and Leo's phone conversation – why shouldn't we try to go back to the lair? Or better, try to meet up with them? Wasn't it better if we were all together?
"Wait a minute Don. I don't think I'm cool with this."
Casey, who had already disappeared into the storeroom, stuck his head back around the corner. He eyed Donatello uneasily.
Donatello didn't acknowledge my statement. He pulled the radio cord off the floor, also snatching up a half-eaten bag of Doritos lying by the pool table. Satisfied that there was nothing else of value, he traversed back towards Casey.
I folded my arms across my chest, refusing to follow him. After he'd taken a few steps passed me, he spun, giving me a fractious glare. His voice was low.
"Raph, for once in your life, would you please trust that someone's judgment might be better than your own? I'm not wild about this either, but I think it's the safest thing to do at this point. Especially if I'm at all correct about what's happening up there."
I growled, considering his statement.
"Raph, I'm not going to stand and fight with you. Now please, get your ass in that room before someone comes running down those stairs." Donatello stared me down, something that he'd never come close to doing in his entire life. It probably would have made me laugh under different circumstances. I was taken aback by his boldness.
But I also saw something else in his eyes that made me listen.
Fear.
Donatello knew something that I didn't. And it was scaring the shit out of him.
I might have been unbelievably irritated, but I also wasn't stupid. I broke the stare, walking wordlessly into the storeroom. I thought I heard Don sigh as I strode past, as if he'd been holding his breath.
Casey had started wrestling with a large metal tool chest, trying to pull it up from the back corner. Don and I went to help him, and between the three of us we were able to drag it against the door. I lifted some more boxes off of a shelf, further bracing the area around the chest.
Even with the door blocked, I couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness. I didn't like the fact that we were effectively separated from our brothers and April. I watched Casey let his head fall back against the wall, breathing slowly and deliberately. I forgot how difficult this was for him. He was extremely claustrophobic. But in this case, the stark-raving-lunatic-phobia had won out.
Donatello was busy searching for an outlet. He got down on his hands and knees, guiding the radio cord into a space behind a small freezer. Having found what he was looking for, he sat back, flipping the power button.
"Let's see if anyone has any answers."