Spring Nightmare (Pesadilla Primavera) presents a "collision", of sorts, between people from very different worlds, pitted against each other and, at the same time, seeking resolution. Tension and unusual circumstances surrounding the nightmare create a titillating reading experience. . . .
SPRING NIGHTMARE
PESADILLA PRIMAVERABy T.C. NelssonAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 T.C. "Krush" Nelsson
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4389-9499-4Chapter One
Marc escaped several zombies; managed to barricade himself in what remained of a police station. A fog had begun to roll in at daybreak, which allowed him some time to move file cabinets, as well as office furniture, undetected, against the doors and windows. Two police officers slumped over their desks, dead from gunshot wounds - presumably self-inflicted.
Just what the hell had happened to this city, Marc wondered? He pondered his easy escape from General Estis' compound, as well as his time in captivity. When the power supply was cut, was most likely when the carnage began, he surmised. Early television and radio broadcasts indicated that whatever had occurred -resulted in those infected, consequently, attacking others, feeding off their flesh! Marc observed several of these "walking dead" possessed scant night vision, which aided in his trek to the police station, unscathed. Temporary safety, at best.
Glancing furtively throughout his unfamiliar surroundings, he noticed a variety of weapons, stacked neatly against the wall nearby the back door. Slowly he moved a desk away from the back door, opened it, and peeped furtively...... excellent, a garage with a S.W.A.T. van! He shone a flashlight throughout the garage; found it lifeless but secure. Quickly he loaded all the weapons and ammunition into the van. The damned thing appeared to have been built in the 1970s, he thought, but, if drivable, what the hell? He tossed a sniper rifle onto the passenger seat, and tucked a .44 Magnum in his jacket. He limped to the driver's side, and stiffly scrambled into its seat. He started the engine, which amazingly, roared to life on the first try! As he roughly put it into gear, a remote opened the garage door. He floored it; drove over two zombies lurking in the foggy haze....
Marc steered the van anxiously throughout the city, unsure of his destination. This city was a total disaster -strewn garbage, abandoned, damaged vehicles, and numerous rotting corpses lined the streets! The stench of the decaying bodies forced him to suppress a rising gag. Moments later, he discovered the roads to be poorly paved. The morning sun glimmered eerily in the diminishing fog. Relieved to be finally free of the ravaged city, he neared a ruggedly steep hill. He continued driving, much more cautiously in his ascent, and, once atop, parked the van - gazing at the most serene gated community! A banner befitting its appeal, La Villa Pacifica, waved in a gentle breeze.
Noting a near empty fuel gauge, he coasted gingerly downhill to the entrance of La Villa Pacifica. Wearily he parked in front of die guard shack, and began to speak to the guard on duty. As he approached to speak with the guard, he spotted two zombies lurching at the top of the hill. Without hesitation he grabbed the sniper rifle, aimed, and fired two shots, splitting the zombies' skulls! Sanchez sprang from his coffee break, cursed, "You crazy fucking gringo! What are you thinking?" Seething, Marc snarled, "Shut the fuck up, man! The city is full of those bastards!" Sanchez turned to address a man passing by his desk, "Alcalde Roberto, this gringo has brought trouble. He is a "sombrato" for General Estis! He needs to get the fuck out of here, NOW!" Furiously ripping off his shirt, Marc displayed welts on his back, "Bullshit! I have NEVER been employed by General Estis! Alcalde Roberto, escucheme, por favor! I -" Robertoraised his hand, cautioned, "Both of you, callate! Stop swearing at each other. Ladies will soon pass by, inevitably." Both men stared silently. Roberto gestured to Marc, who spoke more calmly. "I was a prisoner in the compound. I don't know what happened, all of it, but, if I were an agent of Estis, would I give these to your people?" He swung open the van door to show the weapons. Shocked, Sanchez began to protest. Marc added, "Here -take them, we may need to defend ourselves, soon!" Roberto opened the gate, and extended a handshake, "Mi amigo, bienvenido a La Villa Pacifica! Sanchez, call Cecilio and Salvador to assist in unloading these guns. Store them in my office, please. I'll summon Graciela, so she may examine our guest." Sanchez nodded, grudgingly.
Roberto turned to summon Graciela to his office when Sanchez exploded, "I still don't know, it could be another of General Estis' tricks, damn it!" Irate, Marc offered an obscene gesture, and retorted, "Yea, dumb ass, why would I give all the weapons to your people?" Sanchez paused; Marc continued bitching, "I want Estis as bad as you do! Maybe even more!" Roberto interjected, "I mean it, both of you! Relax, calm yourselves! Ladies will pass by, inevitably."
At that moment, Roberto's wife, Frances, walked by, leading a group of children. The youngsters stared at the guns, chattering excitedly. Frances scolded, "Ninos! Todos los ninos! Vamanos! Vayamos al parque, ahora!" The children obeyed and ran ahead to the park. Frances glanced back nervously.
Cecilio stood guard over the weapons; viewed the argument between Sanchez and Marc with amusement. Roberto noticed this, and motioned Cecilio to join them, which he did. "Cecilio," he asked, "please escort Marc to our infirmary now. When Graciela is finished with her examination, I will have questions." Cecilio nodded, and they started for the infirmary. When they were out of earshot, Sanchez asked Roberto, "Can we trust this gringo, alcalde? I mean, you ARE 'alcalde por vida', but can we really trust him?" Roberto answered quietly, "I believe we can. I want to know about his incarceration in General Estis' compound."
Within minutes, Cecilio returned with Sanchez' older brother, Salvador. Roberto fixed a pot of coffee while the other men secured the weapons in a storage room adjacent to the kitchenette in his office. "El jefe," Cecilio requested, "will you teach me to shoot? We may need to defend ourselves against the General's forces, soon!" Salvador shook his head no, and replied, "Not till we know who the enemy really is." Sanchez admiring the weapons, added, "The gringo certainly knows how to steal quality hardware!" Disgusted, Roberto commanded, "NO MORE! He is our guest. I will question him when I go to the infirmary upon Graciela's finishing his medical treatment! He'll be a guest at my home. Furthermore, he would NOT have turned these weapons over to us if he intended us any harm!" Cecilio interrupted, "Oh, alcalde, I almost forgot this." He handed Roberto Marc's .44 Magnum. "Marc gave me this to pass to you. He said he did not want to alarm the people who are treating him so kindly. He also mentioned that when he is released, he expects to work to help secure our beautiful land." Sanchez stared incredulously at Salvador, who shrugged his shoulders. The men drank coffee; discussed strategy in low tones on how best to protect the citizens of La Villa Pacifica. Soon, Roberto rose, filled his coffee mug, and bade his comrades adios to stroll to the infirmary to confer with Graciela. He knocked; Graciela invited him into her office.
Warming Roberto's coffee, and pouring a fresh cup for herself, Graciela began, "As you know, alcalde, I can only do so much for our people. Amazingly, Marc is strong, for the time spent in captivity." Sipping his coffee thoughtfully, he pondered questions. Graciela hesitated, continued her evaluation. "I am keeping him overnight for observation, just to be certain. He was pretty excitable when Cecilio escorted him in, so Kesha gave him a sedative without my consent. I made it abundantly clear that I am in charge of this infirmary! She is the receptionist." Roberto agreed to return the following morning for his release. Graciela decided, "One more episode, and she is terminated! I am not happy with her work ethic; children do not like her -especially the teenage boys!" Frowning, Roberto stood to go, but said nothing. Graciela extended a handshake, and thanked him for his patience.
La Villa Pacifica's town council gathered for an emergency meeting. Roberto ate a quick supper with Frances before arriving several minutes late. Cecilio, Salvador, Sanchez, and several others stood up to volunteer as night-watchmen till the danger of attack had passed. Roberto requested that Salvador take charge of organizing the shifts - sunset until sunrise. Roberto then offered to take a shift, but Sanchez returned to speak directly to the council. "No, no, alcalde. You have a guest. We have heard that he is being kept overnight in our infirmary. I want him to enjoy good health." Roberto, shocked at Sanchez' sudden change of heart, adjourned the meeting.
The first night passed without incident. The women prepared and served breakfast in the community room for all the men who volunteered to become night-watchmen. Roberto entered as they finished eating, greeted them, and thanked them for their service. Marc awakened, still disoriented from the medication Kesha had given him. Staring aimlessly out the window, the sunny skies brightened his mood considerably. He noticed a stack of freshly laundered clothing alongside a decanter of freshly brewed coffee. Slowly he lumbered into the adjacent bathroom, enjoyed a long, hot shower, and dressed.
Roberto knocked and entered to find him sitting on the bed, sipping coffee. He asked, "Marc, how are you feeling today? Good, I hope." Marc nodded, replied, "Quite well. Very refreshed. Other than this leg stinging a bit, Graciela did a wonderful job of fixing me up!" Roberto smiled, "Excellent! She is a fine doctor - we are fortunate to have her! Has she discharged you, yet?" Marc walked to the door, opened it, and glanced at her office door. "No, Roberto, she must have gone early, while I was in the shower. Last night she did mention wanting to consult with Esmeralda, before seeing anyone today. It had to do with the drug Kesha gave me. I do feel fine, and I want to see La Villa Pacifi ca and then I want to work with you to help keep the people safe from whatever shit General Estis created!"
"No! No!" Roberto admonished, "You are our guest! We ARE safe, due to our security watches, not to mention all of those weapons you turned over to us. I might add, they are locked in my office. We may never need to use them. Now, if you have finished your coffee, let us go. I want to show you our way of life."
Together they drove away in his jeep. Roberto gestured at the various shops, two schools, the park, and the well-crafted log homes, complete with flower and vegetable gardens. Marc, taken aback by the serenity, gasped, "I just cannot believe it! The families, their children.... who'd have thought they escaped the General's regime?" Roberto answered tersely, "We do not speak openly of General Estis here! Only in my office. Instead, we focus on our daily lives, our work in order to remain free, and, as a result, we have control of our destiny. We must always continue to work together to keep La Villa Pacifica the safe haven for all of our people! I am concerned, however, Marc, about the drug which Kesha gave you. You must ALWAYS be in control of your mind. Graciela has disciplined her; it'll not happen again."
Marc handed him a bottle of pills. "I didn't take any. They were next to the decanter of coffee. With no label, and Graciela unavailable, I -...." Roberto donned his reading glasses, examined the pills angrily. "Marc, this is not the work of Graciela! She is a professional - I've never known her to treat people in this manner. Exactly, that is how you found them - next to your coffee?" Marc nodded, surprised, "Yes, but after the nightmares I had, I really don't want to take any more medications. I am accustomed to sleeping well." Roberto braked the jeep to a halt near the lake, and cried out, "What? You did not sleep soundly?" Marc began to answer, but Roberto continued, "No, this is unacceptable. I'll have to speak to Graciela. It appears that Kesha is involved in something she should not be! I don't like it at all." Marc stared wistfully at the lake, "That's a good name: EL LAGO AZUL. So clean, so refreshing.... the children can play and swim every day. That is nice."
Roberto demanded, "We MUST resolve this mystery of these drugs. We cannot have the chaos which we endured in our final days in the city." Marc agreed, "Yes, I understand. I was able to watch television in the early days of my incarceration. But, Roberto, the future is NOW, and while I am your guest, I will relax, and keep myself calm. I insist upon helping the people remain safe. With all due respect, I strongly believe that, although General Estis has not been since the zombies wreaked havoc throughout the city, he is alive and in hiding! I want to work to bring him to justice."
The men gazed at the lake. Roberto inquired of his guest, "Did you work for the people in America who wanted Estis dead?" Marc, shocked at the mayor's candor, paused before answering, "No. I was contracted by a private group of citizens who want Estis brought to trial for a variety of crimes committed in the states. I only will receive pay if/when I return him to America alive to stand trial." Roberto thought for a moment, and deduced, "So, you, basically, are what is known in America as "a bounty hunter"?" Marc shook his head, "No, not exactly. The American court system is so fucked up, as you may have read, or heard on television. This is a very private matter. I do not know the faces of those whom I work for, as it is simply my job to deliver General Estis to them, for a "private hearing", of sorts.
Roberto stared at him, in stunning silence. "I have heard of guys like you. Early on in Estis' rise to power, there was an attempt to overthrow his dictatorship." Marc recalled, sadly, "Yes, that was not a well-organized effort. Too many good people died. We'd have gotten the bastard this time, except someone, an American, no less, turned us in to Estis." Children ran past, eager to play in the lake, oblivious to the dark nature of the men's conversation. Marc continued, "Yea, a journalist, Allie, and a local animal rights activist, Nan, traveled to the province with me under the pretense of doing college theses about General Estis' rapid rise to power. My Spanish is good enough to pass as a tourist, so my role was that of a tour guide. Allie was to be granted an interview with the General on the evening I was abducted. I have not seen him or Nan ever since."
The two men opted to take a walk around the lake, out of earshot of the families gathered at the lake. "This is most helpful to us," Roberto began, "Salvador is our jefe, chief of police, and he has compiled all the intelligence gathered on the General. When you are stronger, he'll wish to interview you. What else happened?" He related the events of his escape from captivity, much to Roberto's amazement. "I noticed the satellite as we began our walk, alcalde, do you have broadcasts?"
"No, not for several weeks," stated the mayor. "Salvador needs parts, and his brother Sanchez, wishes to go into the city to 'obtain' the necessary parts. With what you have described, I am not in favor of a journey into the city. Estis was rumored to conduct experiments on human beings, and I am most concerned that our people might become infected!"
Marc agreed, but added, "I understand, but we now have more than enough weapons to blast our way in and out, if need be. Perhaps we take two jeeps and a total of six men, including me, who are proficient with firearms? I feel I must help the people who have suffered from Estis' bullshit, AND learn what has happened to Nan and Allie." Roberto pondered, then responded, "All right. But, not tonight. My wife, Frances, and other women of La Villa Pacifica will host a potluck dinner and dance tonight in our community room. Word has spread quickly - you are a bit of a celebrity. The children must have told their parents about those weapons you took."
Cecilio ran to them, breathless, upset. "Good, I finally found you," he panted, "Graciela is pissed. Kesha taped a sign on the infirmary door which read 'CLOSED TILL FURTHER NOTICE'. When Graciela saw it, shit, she went loca.... fired Kesha! No one has seen Kesha, since!"
(Continues...)
Excerpted from SPRING NIGHTMAREby T.C. Nelsson Copyright © 2009 by T.C. "Krush" Nelsson. Excerpted by permission.
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