Partyville USA: Part 1-2

< Part 1 back thataway.

 

 

 

He handed it to Roland, who read the inscription “Sales Leader 1975 – James Wallace.”

            “That was the first trophy I was ever awarded” Wallace said “All my life I tried to win a trophy you see. When I was a kid it would be Pinewood Derby or Baseball trophies. Later on it would be academic trophies. Even when I served in Nam’ I couldn’t hack so much as a terlet-scrubbin’ award. Looking back I can understand why. I was never much for building wooden cars, hitting home runs or even killing slopes. However, when I got back in 73’, I needed a job, so I took a sales gig for Maytag. Turns out it was fate, and I sold so many damn dishwashers, laundry machines, dryers and refrigerators that I surprised even myself. Two years later, I was given this, and I knew that business was in my blood. I would sometimes stare at this baby for hours, sitting there on my shelf in my lousy apartment, sitting alone on the shelf there. Now it ain’t alone, and now instead of a lousy apartment I have my wonderful home, a beautiful wife, a pool, a boat, hell I even got a helicopter up on the roof that’ll get me about most anywhere.”

            He looked at Roland, who was sitting in rapt attention.

            “My point is, I gotta feeling that today is gonna be the day for you like it was the day for me all those years ago when they handed me that. You see next week I’m heading out. Partyville USA has been good to me, and it’s been wonderful seeing it start as a small outlet store to where we are today. And naturally, I want to see it continue, and someone has to pick up where I’ll be leaving off, and after lunch, when those folks out there see what I know you been working hard on all these months, they’ll know what I’ve known for some time now.”

            He walked over and placed his hand on Roland’s shoulder. “Roland my boy” he said “You been like a son to me. You got vision, you got ability, and if I may say so, you even got the balls necessary for the job. And I know when we get back in there, it’ll be clear to all that you’re the man to take Partyville USA into the 21st Century.”

            Roland’s anticipation climaxed within. His smile seemed to stretch across the room.

            “I can’t tell you how honored I am sir. This is just, wow. I really can’t thank you enough” he gushed. Wallace waved modestly.

            “T’aint nothin’ my boy. T’ain’t nothin’. Now I don’t know about you, but my stomach’s growlin’ like a mongrel dog. I’m gonna grab some chow, and I’ll see you back inside.”

            “I’ll see you then sir” Roland said, tipping the last of his whiskey down his throat. He stood up, set the trophy on the desk and offered his hand to Wallace.

            “And again sir, thank you.”

            Wallace firmly gripped his hand and shook proudly.

            “T’ain’t nothin’.”

            Roland exited and tracked down Wesley, who positively swooned at the news. They then agreed to have lunch at Benoit’s, their typical bistro to celebrate. Their elation barely lowered throughout their cab ride over. This was helped by the radio station being in the middle of an 80’s Flashback Lunch. Roland whistled and tapped his foot as Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like a Wolf” played. Wesley noticed his foot-tapping and smiled.

            “They sure don’t make em’ like they used to eh Mr. H?” he said, tapping his own foot.

            “No Wesley” Roland smiled “they certainly don’t.”

            “Hey driver” he yelled to the cabbie up front “turn it up!” The cabbie, pleased to have an excited customer, obliged happily.

            At Benoit’s, they continued to gleefully discuss Roland’s promotion.

            “Oh, I haven’t even told you the best part” Roland said, after swallowing a bite of Garlic Rye-Crusted Salmon “before I went in Gregory talked to me.”

            “Oh?” said Wesley, cutting off a piece of his Cavatappi Carbonara.

            “Yeah, the freak was apparently under the impression that he was the one Wallace was gonna pick.”

            “You’re kidding!”

            “Nope, not at all. He was still pissed from me yawning during his presentation, and said that when he’s in charge he’s gonna kick me out!”

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;         Wesley laughed his high, nasal laugh “that is hysterical!”

            “Ain’t it?” Roland laughed, before taking a sip of Chardonnay “And after that hideous presentation of his.”

            “That had to be the most boring presentation I’ve seen since the last one he did” sneered Wesley.

            “I’ll say. That dweeb could make a nuclear explosion boring.”

            “Damn right” Wesley said while refreshing his wine glass from the carafe.

            When their stomachs were full and their bill was paid, Roland and Wesley hailed a fresh cab, and began the trip back to the office.

            “Still feelin’ good, feelin’ lucid?” Wesley asked as the cab turned down their avenue.

            “A few butterflies, if I’m being honest” said Roland “but mostly just ready to rock.”

            “Glad to hear it” said Wesley “you’re gonna kick ass.”

            “I’m gonna kick ass” Roland repeated. Through the front window he could see the bottom of the Brighton Building a block and a half away, however he could see that a large traffic jam had massed in both lanes as the cab closed in to the final block.

            “Aww what the hell is this?” Wesley grumbled.

            “Lunch time rush, I guess” the cabbie offered from the front.

            “I’ve never seen one this bad before” said Roland.

            “Christ” said the Cabbie “they don’t seem to be moving at all up there.”

            “Probably some old bat not noticing a green light” Wesley joked. The cab pulled up into the jam, while more cars and trucks started massing behind them. A minute went by without any movement at all.

            “Jesus, what is the goddamn hold-up?” Wesley groaned.

            “Figures” said Roland as he slumped back into his seat. He rolled up his window to keep out the humid summer heat which had been previously mitigated by the car’s movement. “Just typical.”

            “Relax Mr. H” Wesley offered “I’m sure it’ll ease up any -” Roland waited for Wesley to finish his sentence, but he seemed distracted by something outside.

            “What?” he asked as Wesley turned around, looking for something.

            “Nothing” said Wesley, as he turned back around “I just thought I saw somebody running.”

            “Running?” said Roland. As he thought, he saw two people run past the cab. “Come on, come on” he thought he heard one say. He turned to look out the front window, but couldn’t see anything but the cars surrounding the cab.

            “What in the fuck…” he whispered, looking around for anything. Then he saw another figure through the windows of the jeep. Instead of running, however, it seemed to be trudging. When it cleared the car, he could see that it was a badly-injured woman. Her arms were covered in small to medium lacerations, and her yellow sun-dress was torn, and splattered with blood. She staggered forward, appearing to be completely disoriented.

            “Mary mother of God” the Cabbie gasped. He leaned out of the window.

            “Jesus lady, are you alright?” he yelled to her, though she didn’t respond, but instead kept moving forward.

            “Lady? Christ, Lady are you okay? What the hell’s going on up there?”

            The woman finally turned her head to the Cabbie, but said nothing.

            “Can you hear me?” said the Cabbie. The woman looked at him for another second. Her mouth, previously expressionless, began to curl into a sneer. Roland heard her make a low, gurgling snarl.

            “Lady?” said the Cabbie. Suddenly, with vicious speed the woman lunged at the Cabbie, her teeth clamping on his throat. The Cabbie screamed hys

terically until the woman twisted her head, and tore out a chunk of his throat. The Cabbie slumped over the door.

            “What in the Holy fuck?!” Wesley screamed. An arm then flew through his open window, clamping around his neck. Wesley shrieked, as the arm dragged him backwards to the window. Roland’s head snapped toward him, aghast.

            “Roland! Help! Jesus help me!” Wesley wailed. Roland heard a sickening ripping noise, and saw blood begin pouring down Wesley’s neck. Whatever had him was tearing flesh from the back of his neck. Roland watched helplessly for what seemed like eternity until he heard a slap at his window. He spun around to see a fat man ferociously pounding on his window. His eyes were deranged with hunger, and his mouth seeped blood. Roland unfastened his seat belt and scooted towards Wesley. He slumped down to his crotch as the he saw a crack splinter across the window. The man kept beating on the glass, which kept fracturing further.

Roland whimpered as he slumped further into Wesley’s lap. Whatever was eating Wesley’s neck now seemed to be chewing hard on something. He heard its teeth clacking. The thing grunted with frustration and spat a chunk which landed right on Roland’s lap. Roland’s eyes widened with horror. It was a viscera-slimed piece of Wesley’s spinal cord. Roland screamed as Wesley’s unsupported head slumped dead into his own, his lifeless eyes an inch away from Roland’s own. He then heard his window shatter. Bits of glass rained on his ankles. He swiped Wesley’s head off of his  and slapped his bloody vertebrae to the floor. The fat man was now trying to crawl through the window. Roland frantically kicked at its head. One kick landed and the man roared at him. It lunged back into the car. Roland kicked again hard sending the man against the car behind him. He slumped down as he felt Wesley’s body now being dragged out from under him, out the window.

            Roland tried to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. Suddenly, he heard a low groan come from inside the car. He nervously glanced over to the cabbie. From behind the seat he could see his body begin to shift and twitch. He groaned again, louder. Roland began to slowly pick himself up and slide toward his door as the Cabbie began to rise from in his seat. Roland’s shaking hand reached for the lock of his door as he saw the Cabbie’s head begin to twist torward him. He saw the hole in his neck seeping blood. Outside, he could hear the fat man groggily picking himself up. The Cabbie’s eyes moved about the interior of the cab towards nothing in particular. Then they fixed on Roland. The Cabbie grunted. Adrenaline burned inside Roland. In the corner of his eyes he could see the fat man was now standing again. He quickly lifted the lock of the door and kicked it at the fat man who was knocked on the other side of it. Roland yanked himself from the cab as the Cabbie swiped at him.

            On the other side of the door, the fat man was again picking himself up. Roland spun around and climbed on top of the cab. He could now see all around him. There were people running, screaming throughout the traffic, as trudging monsters combed through the cars pouncing and lunging on them. On the other side of the car, the woman and the man had torn open Wesley’s stomach and were pulling out his intestines and devouring them ravenously. Roland scanned around, and saw that the Plaza of the Brighton Building, while not empty, had few of the monsters walking through it. They were largely concentrated within the traffic jam.

            Roland began to run across the top of the cab. He leapt on to the car in front of him, ran across the top, and jumped to the next. As he landed he could see a minivan in front of him. A pair of men were dragging the corpse of a mother from the driver seat, while in the back seat her two children were wailed deliriously and trying to climb into the rear of the van as a third grasped at them through a shattered window. Over everything he could still make out the girl crying “go away! Go away!”

            He jumped on top of the minivan, but one of the two men snapped his head up to him after hearing him land. Instantly he grabbed at him as Roland ran across the roof the car. The man’s fingers grazed his ankle and Roland tripped and slammed onto the hood of the car. He slid down and landed facing down between the minivan and the jeep in front of it. He felt the man’s hand grip around his ankle. He yanked it away and slipped down to the ground. He heard the slow footsteps coming towards him. Seeing the jeep was just high enough off the ground, he turned onto his back and pulled himself under it. He yanked at the suspension and pulled himself fully under. He went to grab again, but his hand clamped around the hot exhaust pipe of the still-running car burned his hand. At the back of the jeep, he heard the man slump to his knees. Roland began feverishly pushing himself away with his hands and feet as best he could. His left hand enflamed from the effort, but Roland gritted his teeth and kept pushing. He cocked his head to see what was happening behind him, and saw the man’s head on the ground looking at him and muttering. The man lay down and began crawling on his stomach after Roland. Roland pushed further, but he felt the man’s hands grasping at his ankles. He kicked as well as he could, but couldn’t see. Suddenly he felt the man’s hands close on his ankle and yank his foot toward him. His teeth seized upon the sole of his shoe and his head yanked and pulled long a dog with a chew toy. Roland reached for the front bumper of the jeep. He gripped it and yelled as burning pain shot through his left hand. The man kept tugging on his shoe. Roland slipped his foot out and hoisted himself out from under the jeep. As he pushed himself up, he heard the man growling on his shoe.

            Roland stood himself up and climbed on top of the next car. The plaza was close now. He started jumping across the cars toward it. When he reached the last he climbed down and broke fast across the plaza. There were men and women there, but there were scattered enough that he could dash between them. He saw the revolving door ahead. There was only a single teenager nearby, who was lurching away towards a woman running and stumbling down the street. Roland ran behind him and

passed into the door. He pushed the door towards the lobby. He turned around, but saw that the teenager had turned and was now coming towards him. He pushed faster, but the door stopped just inches from the exit. He swung around to see that the teenager had tried to grab for him, but his arm was now trapped at the elbow in the door. Roland pushed hard and the teenager yowled in pain. He smacked ferociously at the glass of the door and reached further inside of the door. Roland kept pushing but couldn’t budge the door forward. The teenager kept reaching. Roland could see the press of the door was so tight on his arm that it rolled up the teen’s decaying muscle, and he could see the bone of his elbow. The teen’s howling was so loud that it began to attract more people. He leaned against the handle of the door and pushed back with all his weight. He slammed against it as he saw another man’s fingers grip clutch around the door and begin pulling it. All the while the teenager was beating his fist against the door, shrieking at Roland with violent, frenzied eyes. Roland threw himself violently against the door again and again. He heard a crunch and a snap. He kept throwing and pushing until finally the door gave and he pushed his way into the lobby. He looked behind and saw the teenager’s severed arm being pushed along by the door.

            Roland bolted for the elevators and hit the button. The only other people in the lobby stood in horror at the mass that was gathering at the windows. Some ran for the exit on the opposite side of the lobby.

            “Come on, come on” Roland pleaded to the elevator. He heard them beating at the windows. He looked and saw that now at least fifteen were outside, trying to bash their way inside. He heard the glass crack and splinter. He looked up to the digital sign above the elevators. One was going up and the other was only on the 32nd floor. Finally, one of the windows gave and shattered to the ground. The sound of hungry groaning began to fill the lobby. Two men lurched inside, then two more. Another window shattered. A crowd now staggered towards Roland with what appeared to be all of their effort. The elevator was still only on the 25th floor. Roland waited for a second longer before he bolted for the stairs. He slammed the door open and ran up the stairs as fast as he could. Through the door he could still hear a low groan as he rounded the stairs up towards the top floor.