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Green Sunday part 2: Second Sunday

By Ryk Brink All Rights Reserved ©

Horror / Humor

Pierrot le Fou

“She’s not infected!” TJ cried

“Ok she’s not infected” Jimmy said, Carpenter forced a laugh and Jimmy said “We can’t deal with this shit now, we need a plan to get out of here.” He paced the room and added “I don’t, I don’t like enclosed spaces”. He swallowed.

TJ got a far away look and tossed spit around his mouth. His eyes and his mouth were a awash with excess fluid as he cradled the seemingly comatose Sunday, her eyes half open.

“My dad” Jimmy’s voice got wobbly and he stopped. “He thought we could hole up in some little bookstore the last time, thought we’d be safe. You know wait for the army or the national guard or the cops, someone, anyone.” He paced up and down and looking at nothing. “But no one came and then all that shit started falling out of the sky and some fucking freak swallowed him whole, like nothing.”

“Hahahahahahaha” Carpenter laughed and said “Daddy issues”

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, YOU OLD CRAZY FUCK” Jimmy schreeched almost foaming at the mouth.

“Jeezus and I thought I had problems” BJ said.

“I’m ok” A little far away voice said. “TJ, I’m ok” Sunday opened her eyes, they were bloodshot, she was paler than usual, but she looked up at him and propped up a weak smile. She rolled out of his lap into a sitting position putting her hand on her head as she felt the liquid in her brain shifting hitting her like a hangover. “Oww, how long was I out?”

“Hour maybe” Jimmy said pouting, arms folded seething with rage.

“Where are we?” She said looking around.

“The pokey” A hoarse voice said.

“So you found him? Figures he’d be in a place like this” Sunday said looking through the bars at the king in rags himself lying on his bench on his back. “Has a problem with authority”. She said smiling.

Carpenter laughed and said “That’s rich.”

She turned to TJ who seemed to be breathing steady, like he was seeing her rise from the dead again. “So what now?”

“You’re asking me” He scoffed.

“Where’d they take our stuff?”

“Ergh evidence locker most like” BJ piped up again in the cell on the other side.

“Who’s this guy now?” Sunday said still holding her head.

“It’s a long story” TJ flustered.

“No it aint” BJ said.

“Let’s change the subject” TJ said.

“If you say so”. Sunday said.

Sunday rocked forward and took in a deep breath and said “So we get out of here, get our stuff and then move on until that guy calls us again?”

“But how do we get out, dp said Carpenter could help us escape”. TJ said.

“Escape?” Carpenter said almost to himself. “That’s your ‘escape’ right there.” He said laughing nodding at Bobby’s cold corpse, stiff in a puddle of his own blood and brain matter. He laughed, a cold pitiless laugh, the laugh of a pirate skeleton guarding a cursed treasure in a dark dank cave.

Sunday let out a breathy laugh like she got the joke.

“What?” TJ said.

“He’s fucking with us, if he’s here it’s because he wants to be. He’s got a way out he just wants to hear us say ‘pretty please with cherries on top’ isn’t that right old man?”

He said nothing, lying motionless on the bench.

“Look at this guy, does he look like he has any plan? Is Carpenter even his name? Does he remember what he had for breakfast?” Jimmy yelled.

“Mr badman, when are you gonna come and play with me?” The little girl’s voice whined. “If you don’t come out and play the monsters will get you.” She offered her threat but he remained silent. “There’s someone coming”.

-

The funny little Frenchman walked into the lobby of whitefish police department. He was doddering like an a lost old woman in the warmth of the lobby. He approached the counter with the bullet proof glass dropping his duffel bag on the floor smiling.

“Good evening mademoiselle” He said jovially like he was birthday party clown.

Maria didn’t even lift her head to look at the funny man.

He cleared his throat and continued on despite being ignored. “Err yes, I’m in search of a man I believe you may have him here.”

“Visiting hours are over, come back tomorrow.” Maria said out of the side of her mouth without looking up.

The frenchman looked up and through the bullet proof glass on the balls of his feet and came back on his heels and said “Ah qui.” He smiled and said “I’ll be back”.

He picked up his duffel bag and walked back out through the frosted glass front doors.

Maria turned the page of the romance novel she was reading and sighed like she couldn’t believe the night she was having.

Out of nowhere a burning toilet roll hit the bullet proof glass making a dull thudding sound. She jumped out of her skin as the toilet roll rolled on the tiled floor. Fear suddenly boiling into rage as she leapt up from her seat said “Fucking gringo kids!” under her breath. She hurriedly unlocked the office outer door and came out into the lobby. “Fucking little pinche’ sons of bitches!” she said as she stomped out the flames on the toilet roll, her half heels clicking on the tiles. She stomped missing, hitting the edges as the roll moved with her blows, dancing away from her foot taunting her. She got gradually more mad, the toilet roll was light but had an odd weigh to it and her anger didn’t help her aim. She squealed as she tried to stamp out the flames. She bit her lip and almost screamed as she lifted her foot above the roll and brought it down with a tight crunch. The force of the blow and the fire disintegrated the roll. A springing clicking noise came out of nowhere as the pressure from the cardboard roll was no longer there. Releasing the firing pin of the grenade inside and launched it into the corner of the room skitting across the tiled floor.

“Oh no” Maria said.

-

A giant explosion rocked the police station, shaking it to it’s core, the cells creaked and dust from every crevice puffed like scarface sneezed.

“See” The little girl said “He’s here, for you”.

“What the fuck was that?” Jimmy said.

“It’s starting” Sunday said.

“But it’s not even the first day, what about the rules?” TJ said.

Apparently someone doesn’t give a shit about the rules.” She said calmly.

“What does that mean?” BJ squeaked.

“It means it’s starting early.” She sighed and stood up, cracking her neck. She breathed in deep, her knees felt a little weak. “Carpenter, we need the keys, now”.

“Carpenter, who’s that” He said looking up at the cold concrete ceiling, not sure if it was the floor. He looked at the label on his old green army coat “Oh is that me? Is this my coat? I just found this, I don’t know who Carpenter is, don’t think I was even in the army”.

“We don’t have time for you to have identity crisis bullshit. If we’re going to survive the night, we need to get out of here and get some weapons, hear me?”

Carpenter didn’t move from his position but the sound of the key bang hitting the floor at Sunday’s feet was heard by everyone.

-

Feet shuffling, plaster dust settling, building creaking and groaning like it had a charley horse.

“What the fuck just happened, is it the terrorists?” A cop crawled to his feet a glock in his hand, covering his mouth with the other as he got to his feet coughing.

“Excuse moi? Where are your holding cells?”

The cop spun around to where the noise. Before he could aim and shoot at the dark figure cutting through the smoke he was suddenly taken with the urgency to keep his guts in. Buckshot ripped his lower body in half, the sound following after, a dull lion’s roar. His intestines flowing out like warm vienna sausages. He spread out losing tension like a balled fist opening and he sighed saying “Follow the signs, can’t miss it”.

“Merci beaucoup” He said as the dust started to clear.

-

Sunday opened her cell and when they were all out and the door was closed behind her she opened BJ’s cell.

“Thank you kindly.” The blonde neckbeard said as he shuffled out standing close to TJ for a moment. The two men looking at eachother with confused expressions and then parting again.

“What about him?” TJ said to Sunday.

She unlocked Carpenter’s cell

“Wait should we be doing that?” Jimmy said.

“The guy on the phone said we needed him, but we can’t force him to come with us. And I’m sure as shit not dragging his stinking ass out of there.” She looked at him not moving on the bench. He didn’t say anything.

Sunday sighed and said “Let’s see if we can find the evidence room, get our stuff back”.

“I heard some guy say it was on the second floor, stairs are over this way I think” BJ said thankful to be remotely useful.

They started walking down the hall away from the cell block.

“Good luck” Carpenter whispered mockingly.

-

“What the fuck was that, is it the Russians?”

“I don’t know man, but I aint moving”

A group of cops hunkered down behind upturned tables in a tight hallway in the interim offices. They were covering the door leading into the main office floor.

“Anything comes through that do-“ The Frenchman barrelled through door blasting, cutting the other cop in half.

One of the cops blasted off his shotgun and knocked the frenchman against the wall, it stopped him in his tracks. He lost his feet for a moment and slid down the wall.

“Is he dead?”

“I dunno” The cop with the shotgun said.

“Well go see” The other cop whispered.

The cop with the shotgun rattled to his feet and cautiously crossed the hallway to the downed fat man crumpled in the corner of the hallway.

He got close and saw the shotgun at his feet. The cop kicked his feet and there was no response, just a dull wobble. The fat man’s head hung down and his double chins squeezed together. His beanie sliding down over his face. There was something strange about the way he was dressed. He poked the shotgun barrel against his chest and it felt hard.

“He’s wearing a bulletproofve-“ His was rudely interrupted by a 9mm round exploding out of his eye as he turned his head to warn his co-workers.

The Frenchman used the barrel of the nine to rise to feet unceremoniously. The rest of the cops were dumbfounded as the fatman rummaged around in the duffel bag on the floor. He came up with a large uzi in one hand and the nine in the other.

“And away we go” he said as he rained bullets on them, they fell to the ground riddled with shells from the two guns. Exchanging meagre blasts of small arms fire hitting the walls around him as he floated towards them. He moved so fast and effortlessly it was like he was a blimp of death hovering. His feet not touching the floor, dancing and piroeting flinging death wantonly every which way. An angel of death visiting lead upon each open doorway he passed.

Cops filed out of offices to make poorly aimed nervous pops from tiny revolvers. Only then to be cut down by waves of automatic fire carelessly flung. Bodies piled in the hallways so he had step over them apologising as he went.

“Helloooo, Mr Carpenter”.

-

“He’s here, do you see him?”

“See?” Carpenter said to himself.

“Look”

Carpenter lifted his head to look around, he was alone, distant gunfire getting closer, it was dark. There weren’t too many things to see, Bobby wasn’t getting any deader or coming back anytime soon. But something caught in the corner of his eye, a flitting of something white.

The holding cells were a couple of feet under ground. So they had ground level slit windows reinforced with wire and toughened glass and they were too small to crawl out of.

He stood and pushed the cell door that was half open all the way back. He walked unhurriedly to the small windows and peeked out and he saw it again, a swift swish of something white and… fluffy.

Laura laughed and said “Follow the white rabbit.”

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