Chapter 5.

We sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes, just drinkin' our beers an' passin' the time. I can't lie about my disappointment that Dr. Snow was dead, but I couldn't think of a good way to come out an' ask about it. I know, no one would ever accuse me of bein' the tactful one, but I got the impression this guy had been through a lot in recent months an' I didn't wanna add to that. I know how it feels when the world seems to be aligned against you an' I didn't wanna come across as the enemy in this scenario. I was still strugglin' with how to broach the topic when the dog came back over to me.

Animals generally act one o' two ways 'round me; they either trust me immediately or decide I'm a predator an' run. Orson fell into the first category. I heard him finish lappin' up his beer an' come paddin' over to sit next to my chair. I glanced down at him an' he stretched his head forward an' started sniffin' my hands. He gave a thin whine, not in fear or discomfort, but soundin' for all the world like he was askin' me "why?". I raised an eyebrow an' he started to lick my knuckles, almost like he knew what was there an' how much they always hurt me. I lifted my hand to his head an' gave him a good scratch behind the ears, which caused him to wag his tail an' look at me appreciatively. With a last lick to my hand, he crossed over to Chris' chair an' curled up beside it.

When I turned back to him, Chris was lookin' at me with a curious look on his face. "What?" I asked, sluggin' back more beer.

"Orson never does that." He said, indicating my hand. "I mean, he'll sometimes do it when he thinks someone is hurt, but you're not. Well, not anymore. And he never does anything like that to people he doesn't know."

"Animals are a lot smarter than people. They ain't fooled by their eyes." I pulled out a cigar an' stuck it in my mouth, but I didn't light it. I didn't see any ashtrays around an' I didn't wanna smoke in his house unless he gave the go ahead. "Animals know things."

He chuckled. "You sound like a friend of mine. Don't suppose you can talk to animals too?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I usually scare 'em off." I chewed on my cigar, thinkin'. I decided that now was the best openin' I would get to ask about Dr. Snow. "So, was your mom's project the only thing happenin' out there?"

He shook his head. "No, not by a longshot. There was another project, called 'Mystery Train'. I think they were trying to invent time travel, but they fucked it up in that great way that only the military can manage." He finished his beer an' sat there rollin' the empty bottle between his hands. "I don't know what it is they actually invented, but it was mondo weird."

"Fair enough." I took the cigar out of my mouth. "Did your mom have anythin' to do what that?"

"No, I don't think so. Like I said, she was a geneticist; I can't imagine how her work and that project would have been connected."

I nodded, then took a chance. "What happened to her?"

He sighed an' sat back in his chair. "She was killed in a car accident a few years ago. Although I've also been told that she did it on purpose." A brief shadow o' pain flickered across his eyes. "I think she found out they were screwing with her project, using it for something other than what she thought they wanted it for. I don't really know and there's really not a lot left at the base that I've been able to find." He glanced up at me. "But I am damn certain that parts of that base are still active, underground. And I'm sure it's got to do with her work and the monkeys and the people who are becoming."

"Do I even have to say that I don't like the sound o' that?"

"No, because I don't like it either. But there's been too much weird shit around here for me to believe otherwise."

I hear a car approachin' the house an' went on guard. If what this kid was sayin' was true, it was possible that this house was under some kind o' constant surveillance. The last thing I needed was a bunch o' military fucks bustin' in here an' tryin' to take me back to that fort. I just hated the thought of gettin' that much blood all over the house of a guy I'd known less than two hours. However, Chris stood as soon as he heard the car, crossin' back to the front door. I just sat there with my beer an' waited.

When he came back, there was another guy with him. If you were to imagine someone that looks like they embrace the surfing lifestyle with complete gusto, this would be your guy. He wasn't the blond haired-blue eyed California poster boy, but he had the same type o' build you'd expect from a surfer. He was also wearing a pair o' loose jams, sandals an' the most God-awful Hawaiian shirt I've ever seen, green with coconuts an' hibiscus flowers printed on it. He was a walkin' fashion nightmare an' comin' from me, that's sayin' somethin' an' it ain't good. The only thing that ruined the image was the pistol-grip pump-action shotgun he was carryin', slung casually over one shoulder. When they got to the kitchen, he simply nodded an' dropped bonelessly into a chair, leanin' the shotgun against the table leg. Chris went back to the fridge an' handed out beers all 'round before returnin' to his chair.

"Bobby Holloway, this is Logan Sharp. Logan, Bobby." He said, crackin' his bottle open. This kid was gonna be three sheets to the wind before we got anywhere.

Bobby nodded at me an' just said "Bro" before poppin' his own beer open an' drinkin' deep. He was quiet for a moment before turnin' to Chris. "So, Dead Town? Again?" Chris just nodded. "Damn."

"Yeah, I know. But it's for a good cause." He replied, lookin' at me.

"Well, before we go, I just gotta tell you. Looks like we'll have some good glassy waves here day after tomorrow. Ten footers at least, blowin' in from dusk til dawn."

"I know what you're trying to do."

"Hey, I'm just sayin' bro. They're like a gift, just for you."

"I understand."

Bobby turned in his chair to look Chris right in the eye. "Do you? You keep pokin' your nose in over there, someday they're gonna poke it back. And I'd hate for you to miss out on some of the tastiest surf of the season because of another 'good cause'." He took a long drink. "Don't forget what almost happened the last time. I don't think we can borrow anymore time out there."

"We're not going there, Bobby." Chris replied, glancin' at me again. "I think all we have to do is get our new friend out there."

"Really?" Bobby turned to me, gave me a quick once-over an' turned back to Chris. "Is he what you couldn't talk about over the phone?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah. I think he might have had something to do with mom's work."

Bobby was out o' the chair, gun in hand faster than I'd have given him credit for. He just seemed so laid-back, I didn't think he'd ever move faster than a mosey. I was out o' my chair hot on his heels, my left hand grabbin' the front o' his shirt, my right clenched into a fist in front of his face. "Just try it, bub, an' see what it gets ya." I growled.

Christ stood slowly an' Orson started to whine in confusion. "Bobby, put the gun down. It won't help you, not with him. Besides, he's not becoming. I don't think he could even if we pumped him full of mom's virus." Bobby looked at Chris in confusion. "I'm serious. He's different. I think mom thought Logan could help me."

Bobby lowered the gun an' I let him go. He slipped back into his chair an' a moment later, I followed suit. He took another drink o' his beer an' turned to me. "So, what's your story?"

Before I could answer, Chris did. "He's a mutant." Bobby put his beer on the table, his hand shakin' ever so slightly. "His body heals itself like nothing I've ever seen."

Bobby looked at me again. "I guess the gun wouldn't have done much then?" I shook my head. "Sharky." He grabbed his beer an' downed a third of it. "So you're the reason we're going back out there?" I nodded. "Why? If they did somethin' to you out there, it couldn't have been good."

"It's a long story, kid. I don't know if we have the time for all of it." I said. "Lets just say that someone stole the majority of my life an' I want it back. Part of it's out there at this Fort Wyvern." I took a long drink. "I don't give a fuck what they throw at me, I'll get what I want out o' them."

"What makes you think they'll give it to you?"

"Because I'm the best at what I do." I finished my beer. "An' what I do isn't very nice."

I didn't want to elaborate an' fortunately he didn't ask me to. He finished his beer an' turned to Chris. "Well, I guess that's it then. Let's go to Dead Town."

We piled into Bobby's jeep an' it wasn't until then that it occurred to me that Chris probably didn't even own a car or a license to drive it. With XP, he'd never be able to shield himself from the light of oncomin' cars. Hell, even the little bit of light that came from the instrument panel would eventually be deadly to him. When he turned on the jeep, I noticed that Bobby had his own instrument panel dimmed considerably, out of deference for his friends' condition. Put a point in the respect column for the kid.

Another thing I noticed was that he had a handgun sittin' on the passenger seat, which he casually put in his lap when he sat down. I had no idea what we were gettin' ourselves into, or why these two thought we had to go into a mostly abandoned military base armed to the teeth, but they were the ones with the experience 'round here an' I was forced to follow their lead.

I wound up sittin' in the back with Orson. Usually, travelin' with a dog in any vehicle is a fifty-fifty chance in the behavior department, but he simply sat there next to me, lookin' for all the world like a regular human passenger who was used to such things. It made me wonder if perhaps he was more than he appeared to be. I reached over an' stroked his head an' he simply turned an' looked at me, givin' another soft chuff before once again facin' the front of the jeep. Yeah, he's definitely an uncanny mutt.

After a few tense minutes, Bobby looked at me in the rearview. "So, mutant huh?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, scowling.

"No reason. Never met one before." He drove in silence a few more minutes before lookin' at me again. "You surf?"

"Never tried."

"Well then, if we make it through this, I'll teach you myself."

"Don't worry 'bout it. Never wanted to learn."

"Dude, you don't know what you're missing! It's almost better than sex." Me an' Chris both stared at him. "I said almost." I grunted an' he grinned. "Besides, it'll give me something to look forward to, better'n the last time we were out here." He glanced over at Chris. "Right bro?"

"Dude, we could get full-on wasted by a tsunami and it would be better than last time." Chris said. "Let's try to remember that the Mystery Train isn't there anymore and stay alive this time, all right?"

Bobby caught my eye in the rearview again, but didn't offer to explain that last comment. Whatever the hell happened out there the last time wasn't somethin' that would have any bearin' on why they were takin' me out there now. But a thought did occur to me then an' I blurted it out before I could stop myself. "Hey, if you guys are so worried about all the weird shit comin' outta this base, how come you told me so much?"

They looked at each other briefly, then Bobby gave Chris a small nod. Snow turned around in his seat to face me. "Logan, the world's gonna end and there's nothing we can do to stop it. Hell, we can't even figure out a way to tell the rest of the world without getting ourselves killed." He looked down an' swallowed hard. "But someone has to know. Someone who's not stuck in Moonlight Bay for life."

"Someone like me?" He nodded an' I swore under my breath. "Why me?"

"For whatever reason, my mother trusted you. She told you more of what she was doing out there than she ever told me. You said you don't remember much and I believe that. But you were led here for a reason and I'd bet my surfboard that you'll remember what that reason is soon enough."

"Got more faith in me than I do, kid." I snorted an' held up a fist. "Remember these? They ain't there so I can trim my sideburns."

"You said my mother didn't have anything do with that."

"She didn't, far as I know. Can't see a lady like your mom bein' a part o' somethin' like that. Now, I don't really know what she was up to out here, only that I was a part of it somehow. But I'd be willin' to bet my motorcycle that whatever she got outta me, the rest o' the people there used it for somethin' else."

He stared me down for a few seconds before lookin' away. "I don't doubt that one bit, so that's a pretty safe bet for you. But I do know that whatever else happened out there, she did what she did to try and help me and that includes you. Way I see it, you're the only thing that's ever been to Fort Wyvern that isn't completely fucked."

"You just met me, kid. Give me a few days, I'll show ya how fucked I really am."

He shook his head an' looked at the dog. "Orson, will you tell this guy that he's not half as bad as he thinks he is?" I raised an eyebrow at that comment, but looked at the dog anyway. Incredibly, he met my eyes without any problem, not like any other animal I've ever met. It was a little weird, like he wasn't just lookin' at me, but somehow lookin' through me. We just stared like that for a long moment, til finally he gave another of those soft chuffs, put his paw on my shoulder an' licked me full on the face. Chris laughed. "See? If you were really bad, he would've growled and bit you."

I glared at the dog, who seemed to be grinnin' at me, an' wiped off my face. "You seem pretty sure of yourself."

"I am, right Orson?" I glanced back at the dog an' he appeared to be noddin' in agreement. Yep, he's definitely an uncanny mutt.

About five minutes later, Bobby took the jeep down into a culvert that served as a storm drain. Central California isn't known for havin' a lot of rain annually, but what it lacks in frequency it makes up for in quantity when it does happen. So it's not uncommon to find these concrete riverbeds to handle the flow when it starts comin' down. As soon as he hit the bottom, Bobby killed the headlights an' entered a tunnel that led underneath the road above, usin' only the runnin' lights to see by. It soon became obvious that this tunnel was a lot longer than the road it cut beneath an' I was suddenly gripped by a touch of claustrophobia. Much as I hate to admit it, it reminded me of the tunnels beneath Alkali Lake an' my last memories of that place ain't too pretty. Finally, I saw a dim light ahead of us an' we came out o' the tunnel in front of a ten-foot tall fence that spanned the riverbed. Bobby doused the runnin' lights an' Chris hopped out an' unhooked a couple bits o' wire that held the fence in place, peelin' it back so we could drive through it. He hopped back in an' we drove about another fifty feet before Bobby took the jeep up the bank an' onto the road.

If I hadn't been told this place was abandoned, I wouldn't have known at first glance. Row after row o' small houses were lined up, about three thousand total I would find out later. But after a closer look an' a deep sniff, it was obvious these houses hadn't been occupied for some time, at least a decade if I had to guess. Paint was peelin' off the sides, lawns untended; I could see why they called this place Dead Town. We drove cautiously through the streets, finally stoppin' in what had been its downtown area, in front of a movie theatre that still had the word "WHO" on the marquee. Who indeed. The wind shifted a bit an' it carried the smell o' death on it. I looked around an' saw a huge pile o' dead birds in front o' the theatre, mostly gone to skeleton. I growled low in my throat.

"Dude, calm down." Bobby said as he switched off the jeep. "They've been there a while. Committed suicide."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

Chris nodded. "It's true. I was there when it happened, last time we were here." He looked over at the pile, his expression a little sad. "People aren't the only things becoming around here."

"Ya know, before I go into this place, I think you need ta explain what's really happenin' around here."

"That's why we're here, bro." Bobby said an' hopped out o' the jeep. "Welcome to Dead Town, ground zero of the Apocalypse."

AN: No one reviewed my last chapter...how very sad...but i'm not one of those people who'll hold my story hostage until someone finally comments on a chapter...personally, i think that's a crappy thing to do and it would never occur to me to do that...pout? Absolutely...:) But refuse to update because i didn't get a review? Rubbish!

Anyway, we now have a trio of heroes and what exactly does Bobby mean by that cryptic last statement of his? What happened the last time he and Chris were out here? And what's up with Orson? Find out in the next chapter, which i will probably post in a week or so...:) It's the last one i have completed...after that, updates will be a bit slower, but i'll post each chapter as soon as i finish...:)

Super special thanks to all of you out there who at least READ the last chapter...i know there hasn't been a lot of action, but i swear it'll pick up soon enough...:)