D Carpenter - Infertile Grounds

Seth shook his head. “You willing to die for a phantom, a figment of your imagination, Alby.”

“Weren’t no phantom. I seen God and He asked me to do something for Him. Just like when Solomon turned away from the Lord and followed the evil gods like Molech, building altars so his wives could sacrifice children to their horrible God. The Lord raised up adversaries to Solomon then and now he’s asked me to be the same. The nuns at St. Lukes told me I was special and here I am doing His business. At His request, just like they said. I’m going to stop you.”

Seth glanced at his men, rolled his eyes and counted softly, “One, two, three.”

They burst into the room waving their flashlights around wildly. Curtis started shooting. The other two joined in, spraying the room with gunfire.

“Hold on!” Seth screamed. “Hold on.”

They stopped shooting and looked around the smoky room – nobody.

“What did you shoot at?” Seth asked Curtis.

“I thought I saw him over there,” Curtis said as he pointed to the far corner of the room.

Seth motioned for Curtis to go check it out as he glanced at Jerry. Curtis crept across the room, looking around the tables and boxes. Not finding anything.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “I could have sworn I saw—”

His voice was cut off by the roar of a shotgun as Alby, who had been hiding under the mess of papers and boxes left on the floor, jumped up and unloaded both barrels at point-blank range. Curtis’ head erupted in a horrific explosion of flesh and blood.

Alby dove back to the floor.

The sight of their friend’s headless body hesitating before crumpling to the floor made both of them pause.

“Don’t move any closer,” Alby called. “I got plenty of rounds here and these next ones are yours.”

Seth and Jerry glanced at each other. “Calm down now, Alby,” Seth said. “We need to talk about this. You’ve got the wrong idea. We can explain everything.” He nodded to Jerry and they both edged slowly toward Alby’s location.

“I said don’t move,” shouted Alby standing up and fumbling with a shell that refused to seat properly in the break-action gun. Too late. Seth and Jerry emptied their clips into him. Alby’s body twitched and jerked as each bullet entered it.

Seth fired his last round as Alby fell forward onto one of the lab tables and rolled face up, dropping his shotgun to the floor. Blood bubbled out of his mouth. Seth reached over and pulled out a tattered Bible that was protruding from Alby’s shirt pocket. A bullet hole perforated the worn leather cover. The backside was bloody. The holy book was bleeding – mortally wounded.

He looked down at Alby shaking his head. “Why did you have to get involved old-timer? Where’s your God now, eh? He wasn’t around to protect you this time was he?”

Seth slammed his fist onto the table “Fuck!” He yelled. “Why is everything going wrong. Come on, let’s get out of here before someone else turns up.”

Jerry was just about to say something when a popping sound disturbed them.

“What the…” Seth said. The sound had come from the fifty-five-gallon drum filled with explosives. The detonators had just gone off. In less than ten seconds the lab would become a raging inferno.

“Oh my god!” Jerry exclaimed.

“Run!” Seth screamed. As he turned for the door, his right foot stepped into the pool of blood forming around Curtis’ body and shot out from under him. Jerry leapt over a small workbench and sprinted toward the door.

The wind left Seth’s lungs as he landed on his back on the hardwood floor. He looked over at the barrel that started to erupt with flames. He only had seconds to live if he didn’t get out of here.

Struggling to his knees, he grabbed onto the table and managed to get to his feet but his lungs didn’t understand their function. The barrel started to roar. Flames no longer simply shot out of the top of the barrel; they were thrust out with a force that increased tenfold every second. If the barrel had been on its side, it would have become a rocket.

He tried to step away from the table, but had to grab it again. His legs still didn’t have any strength. The flames raced across the ceiling and the temperature in the room skyrocketed.

He staggered toward the door. The rumbling sharp snaps of the inferno filled the air. He looked to his right and saw the flames racing down the far wall and across the floor toward him. The giant flame vortex converged on him from all angles pushing a hot wind and burning debris – wanting to sweep him up. Alby’s prophetic words came back to him “You’re her imps.” Jesus Christ!

This must be what an NFL quarterback felt like when the blitz was on. Ten more feet to go. He leaned forward and with every bit of strength he could muster, sprinted for the door. The flames caught up to him just as he passed through the entrance and out into the cool air. The hair on the back of his head burst into flames as did his shirt. He kept running far enough away from the fire to be safe; then fell to the ground and started rolling wildly, trying to put out the flames on his head and clothes.

Jerry pounded at the flames with his hands and they managed to extinguish them. Seth lay there staring at the sky, breathing deeply. He rolled over and looked at the lab. It was fully engulfed. They watched in silence as the lab and the lodge burned to the ground.

It only took about forty minutes for the fires to burn themselves out. They were far too intense to last for very long and consumed both structures leaving nothing but charred foundations and mounds of ash.

The sun was now up, and Jerry inspected Seth’s burns.

“They’re not that bad,” he said after a few minutes of examination. “The worst is on the back of your head. Your clothes took the brunt of the other damage.”

“How did that happen?” Seth asked. He was in mild shock.

Jerry walked over to Bert’s lifeless body and saw the detonator in his hand. He bent down and held it up so that Seth could see.

“I guess he wasn’t quite dead.”

“Son of a bitch,” Seth said.

The crunch of stones beneath rubber drifted down the road. Jerry stuffed his pistol in the back of his pants and stood up.

As the car came into view, Seth let out a long exhalation. Now wasn’t a good time for unexpected visitors. It was only Mark.

Mark pulled up and got out. “What the hell happened here?”

“It’s a long story,” Seth replied as he struggled to get to his feet. “What took you so long?”

“Car problems. Down route eleven.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re here,” Jerry said as he helped Seth up.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Seth said as he supported himself against Mark’s car.

“I’ll drive the truck,” Mark said.

“We’ll take the plane,” Seth replied. “The route map is in the glove compartment, Mark. Just follow that and you should be okay.”

“When do you want me to be there?”

“Four days max, preferably three.”

“Three days, that’s impossible!” Mark exclaimed.

“I know it’s a long haul, but you’ve got to do it. There’s some pills in the dash. Take one every four hours.”

“I don’t know—”

“Look, we’re down two more guys now. If they were alive this wouldn’t be an issue but they’re not. You need to step it up.”

“Fine,” Mark replied.

Jerry and Seth got into the car and drove toward the plane.

“You ought to see a doctor.”

Seth nodded. He had no time to see a doctor. Right now, all he could think about was the call to Sarah that he was going to have to make. He wasn’t looking forward to it, not in the least bit.