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. Nelsson

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 T.C. "Krush" Nelsson
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4389-9499-4

Chapter 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...