Variance - Book 1, Issue #21

A note to the reader: Issue #22 will mark the final Issue of Book 1 of the Variance Series.  "Book 2: The Others" to follow thereafter.

The United Center

Chicago, IL

Four months after The Rise

   The gymnasium was disproportionately large for a junior high school.  There were banners on the walls proclaiming things like “Colts Are #1!” and “William H. Brown High Rules!”  Martin supposed the gym had been rented out for some high school games.  There were sets of pompoms on the floor and empty paper Coke cups scattered forlornly amongst the open bleacher seats.  It was as if a mass exodus had happened in the middle of a game.

   The Variants continued to urge their weight through the door and, a few times, Martin thought it would give.  It didn’t, though he knew the inevitable was waiting around the corner.

   “We need to take our chances with that,” Annie said, pointing to the Emergency Exit behind them.

   “We won’t be more than three steps outside the door before our brains are on the pavement.”

   “If we stay here we’re dead anyway.  At least if we go outside we have a chance.  No matter how small…”

   She was right.  Martin knew that much.  He took Annie’s hand and they crossed to the Emergency Exit.  

   “If we don’t make it through this, I’m sorry I wandered off,” she said.

   He smiled, grabbed the door’s broad, metal handle and pushed down.

   “Wait!” Annie said suddenly.

   “What?”

   “Do you hear that?”

   “Hear what?”

   “Listen.”

   They pushed their ears against the cool metal.  On the other side of the door they heard the undeniable sound of a bus blaring its horn.

   “Captain Blake, you gorgeous, gorgeous man,” said Martin.

   The doors on the other side of the gym burst open.  The latch exploded off the frame and bounced across the glossy, waxed floor.  Variants surged into the gym like a cloud of angry bees.

   The horn outside grew louder.  The bus was nearing.

   Martin threw open the Emergency Exit and saw the bus hurtling toward them.  It swerved slightly to the right before Captain Blake regained control.  They broke for the bus.

   Pfft!  A sniper shot whizzed past Martin’s ear.

   Captain Blake spun the wheel and the tail of the bus skidded sideways.  Rubber shredded and melted, and the thick smell sprang into the night air.  The bus turned ninety degrees to the left and came to a screeching halt.

   Another sniper shot ripped through one of the bus windows just as Martin and Annie took cover behind the its back wheel.

   “Oh, holy hell,” Captain Blake said.

   “What is it?” said Lara.

   Captain Blake pointed at the Variants spilling through the gymnasium’s Emergency Exit and into the street.  He stuck his head out the driver’s side window, “You guys mind hurrying yer little keesters up!”

   Martin and Annie made a break for the bus’ back exit.  Lara threw up the emergency latch and kicked open the door, cracking the base of glass with her foot.  

   A Variant rounded the bus just as Martin was helping Annie in.  It grabbed Martin’s arm and he felt his elbow hyperextend.  An extreme jolt of pain ran up to his arm and he cried out in pain. The Variant twisted again and just when he thought his elbow would pop from his joint, a sniper bullet tore through the Variants skull.  It convulsed, then toppled over.  Suddenly the sniper bullets shifted and were raining down on the Variants.  Lara held out her hand and pulled Martin inside.

   “Go!” she yelled.

   “Aye Aye,” Captain Blake called back in a mock salute.  He threw the bus in reverse and gunned the engine.  The vehicle rattled up and down as it crushed a handful of Variants.  Other Variants clanked against the yellow siding like massive chunks of hail.  He shifted gears and let loose on the accelerator.  The tires spun and the muffler choked up a plume of smoke.  They rocked briefly as the bus fishtailed to one side and then hopped a curb.  Enrique cried out in a fit pain.

   Out the back window they could see a hundred Variants, maybe more, all tearing after the bus.  They all replicated the same unwavering look, their incensed expressions perfect copies of one another.

   The bus crashed through the chain link fence surrounding the United Center parking lot and slammed into the side of a Chicago police cruiser.  The car spun to one side before coming to rest in a crumpled heap.

   Captain Blake let out a little roar of delight.

   “You want to focus?” Martin yelled to him.

   “Doc, this is the most focused I’ve been in weeks!”  He upshifted and they all jolted back in their seats.  “Hold on!”

   Martin had just enough time to peer through the windshield, see the north entrance of United Center growing before them, and dive on top of Annie.

   The bus crashed through the doors in a masterpiece of destruction.  They were surrounded by a violent sonata of shattered glass, screeching tires, and crippled metal.  Some of the bus windows exploded in, shards raining down on them.  The thick frames of the United Center doors grabbed hold of the bus and held it hostage in its entryway.  The back half of the bus was protruding outside the United Center while the front half was lodged inside.

   The Variants descended on the bus’ back exit.

   Captain Blake yanked the accordion-style door open and a cloud of concrete dust floated down from the ceiling.  Chunks of the United Center rattled against the hubcaps and layers of insulation blanketed the bus’ hood.  There were still Chicago Bulls jerseys stacked clumsily on wire racks in front of the bus.  Now the poor things were covered in fine layers of dust and debris, making them look tired and old.

   “Last stop!” Captain Blake shouted.

   Annie and Martin pulled Enrique from the back seat and dragged him toward the front of the bus.  Lara and Captain Blake were already off by the time they were out.  

   The Variants rocked the massive vehicle back and forth, the wheels squeaking violently on its axis.

   “Watch this,” Captain Blake said to Lara.  The corners of his mouth curled up like a deranged Cheshire cat.  He reached into his backpack and removed his four remaining grenades.  He pulled their pins and tossed them toward the back of the bus.  “We should probably take cover.”

   They did, alarmingly fast. (And wisely so).

   When the bombs went off nearly 100 Variants had surrounded the bus.  They pounded on its yellow sides as if hoping the unwanted obstruction would magically disappear.  It was a haunting moment (as to be expected) when their screams suddenly vanished, cut off by a deafening blast.  Most of the explosion ripped through the sides and rear of the bus.  Concrete crumbled from the ceiling, landing on the bus and clogging up the United Center’s entryway.  The moonlight on the survivors’ faces suddenly evaporated and they were cloaked in an abrupt world of darkness.

   For a while, the only sound was Annie Walker coughing against the freshly fallen asbestos.

   “Everyone all right?” Martin finally asked.

   “Fresh as knickers.”  Captain Blake shook a mess of dust from his silver hair.  

   “Well…we…made…it…” Enrique croaked.

   They all turned to look at him.  He was on his feet, leaning heavily on Lara’s body.  His skin was so pale it seemed as if they no longer needed the moon for light.  He was up.  Struggling, yes, but he was back on his feet.  He had hope again.  They all had hope again.  The Variants were blocked from the entrance and they had shelter.  Nightfall had come, sure, but it hardly mattered, they could move on in the morning.  For now they could rest, and rest was exactly what they needed.

   “We’re all right now,” Martin said.

   “Goddamn, Doc, I swear we jus’ keep cuttin’ things closer and closer.”

   “Don’t you fuckin’ move!” a booming, authoritative voice came from the darkness.

   “And…of course,” muttered Captain Blake.

   It was either the voice or the cocking of a gun that came first.  Later, everyone would have different accounts.