I will try to upload the next chapter tonight or early tomorrow morning. Sorry for delays, a RL issue occurred.
Chapter 2: The Barricade Sheriff James Lenart sighed as he hung up the phone. Leaning against his desk he resisted the urge to pull out the pack of cigarettes in his inner coat pocket. His day was just starting, and already it was falling apart. Holly Glen was where James grew up, and was where he had decided to settle down and raise his family. A nice quiet community, where everyone knew everyone else and nothing terribly exciting happened. Except for today. Only 10am and already their resident crazy was actively ranting in public. Pulling his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, he gave a nod to his deputy Allie Southern. “Going to get Mr. Ford again?” Allie said. The 32 year old woman was always quick to pick up on James' intentions. James sighed, and gave a wry smile. “He was spotted in the public square ranting. Apparently he's already tried to attack someone.” “What a morning,” Allie said, laughter in her glittering green eyes. She pushed a lock of her black wavy hair behind her ear and sipped her coffee. “Go get him, tiger.” James nodded, brushing off her flirtatious wink. It wasn't unusual for her to flirt with him. The sheriff of Holly Glen was only 36 himself, and well-built if not for the last few months where he'd let himself go a bit. It had been only 4 months since he had finalized his divorce with his first wife Raven. Despite his feelings, she had pushed him to go through with it and had promptly left Holly Glen once the paperwork was done. James bitterly got into his patrol car and slammed the door a bit harder than necessary. He hadn't even begun to so much as look at another woman. If it had been his choice he'd drown himself in work, but the little town just didn't see crime that often besides the occasional punk kid or minor traffic accident. For crying out loud, the speed limit didn't go above 40 mph in the entire town. “Let's see what's wrong with Mr. Ford today,” James said to himself as he peeled out of the back lot of the police station. The morning was already heating up to an uncomfortable degree and James pulled on the collar of his jacket a little as he maneuvered the patrol car easily around the winding streets towards downtown. As he pulled up to the main streets of downtown, he parked his car out of the way of traffic and stepped out. “Mr Ford,” James called out in a strong voice, but with a hint of a smile. James approached a solitary man who was standing by the center square fountain. James knew that the elderly man had never been quite right after the death of his wife and soon thereafter had taken to preaching religion and the end of the world in any public venue he could find. Of course, as of late it had turned into more than a nuisance with the man starting to grab and detain citizens as he shouted at them, but the sheriff still couldn't help but have a soft spot for the old man. Mr Ford looked up as the sheriff approached. James halted suddenly as he saw the man was bleeding from the forehead. He broke into a jog as he closed the distance between them. “You're bleeding sir,” James said, reaching for his pocket to grab his handkerchief. Mr Ford tilted his head to the side as if studying James, before he suddenly began snarling and lunged at him. James shouted as he backed away and felt his fingers instead reaching for his gun. He steadied himself and took another look at the older man. Mr Ford's eyes were massively irritated and red, and his jaw was now hanging open, drool slithering between his lips and dripping to the ground. “Jesus, what's wrong with you?” James said, unsure of how to proceed. “Sheriff,” a voice crackled over his radio. “We have a problem.” “What is it?” James responded, keeping his distance from the obviously deranged Mr Ford. “Well... it's really rather odd... but we're receiving calls from all over about violent... attacks.” James was puzzled, but had no further time to communicate as suddenly the old man attacked again, leaping onto him with surprising agility. James struggled to pull the old man off. The man seemed to be intent on biting him so James flipped him over, slamming the man's face into the ground. He pulled Mr Ford's arms behind his back, cuffing him as quickly as he could while the man struggled. Panting, he pulled the elderly man up and pushed him a tad roughly to the patrol car. Sliding him into the backseat, he slammed the door. Agitated, he got into the car himself, and began mirandizing Mr Ford as he drove to the police station. “I'm on my way back,” he reported to the dispatcher and disconnected. Satisfied that Mr Ford was now in the holding cell awaiting questioning, James strode over to Allie's desk. Allie looked up and saw James' trouble face. “Something wrong?” she asked rather bluntly. “Well...” James started, thinking back to his earlier encounter. “No,” he said slowly, ignoring the way Allie's eyebrow rose in a questioning gesture. “Anyway,” Allie said after a long silence, satisfied that James wouldn't say anything further, “it seems that a few citizens around town have come under some rather violent attacks. So far, no one has been killed but, the odd thing is that they're all reporting that they are being bitten.” “Gang related?” James asked. Allie shook her head. “No, in fact, in some of these cases it has been members of the family that have been the attackers.” James immediately thought to his daughter, Melly. She'd be in her last class before lunch right about now. Maybe he should call her. He shook his head at that thought. He didn't want to be the overbearing dad. He wiped the thought from his mind as his radio crackled. The dispatcher directed him downtown to respond to one of the calls. James climbed back into his patrol car and sighed as he pulled from the back lot. He had only driven a few minutes before his cellphone rang. He almost ignored it but the thoughts of Melly from earlier came back and he answered it without looking at the caller ID. “James?” came a female voice he almost didn't recognize. Almost. His breath caught in his throat as he answered, his voice almost inaudible from shock. “Is that you Raven?” “Yes,” came the reply. Four months of no contact, no mail, no calls, nothing. Now this. James was abruptly brought back when a horn honked. He pulled through the four way stop and continued on his way downtown. “Why are you calling me?” James said, unable to keep the anger from his tone. Raven didn't reply. “James,” she repeated. “There's a problem here. Chris... he attacked me today,” Raven hurried on, as James began fuming at the mere mention of the name of the guy whom she had left him for. “And it's not just me, it's all over the news this morning. People are going crazy here James.” “Why should I care about your domestic disputes?” James spit out, his voice like venom. “You left Melly and I to go live your big city life...” “James, don't be like that,” Raven said, getting angry herself. “I'm being serious! I'm scared!” A loud feedback whine came through the phone and James recoiled. The bars on his cellphone were disappearing. “Raven,” James said, a bit of desperation edging into his voice. He wouldn't admit it but he was afraid he'd never hear from her again. “James...” Raven said, the connection starting to cut out. “I... mom... be in town soon... Can't... Chris...” The line cut out. James looked down at his phone, and then back to the road. He slammed on his brakes suddenly, almost hitting the car in front of him. Up ahead, he saw a military convoy rolling through the middle of downtown. Despite their light being green, the military was blowing through all the lights on their way through town. James stepped out of his car, staring at the trucks as they went by. Hanging off the trucks were men wearing chemical warfare suits. His eyes bugged out as they continued on, almost as if the train of military vehicles would never stop. Then just as quickly as they had come, they were gone. No one at the intersection moved for a while, stunned into silence. James climbed back into his car and redialed the number that had called him earlier. His phone screen flashed back up at him in obnoxious white letters, Unable to Establish Connection. He tried again, with the same result. Angrily, he flung his cellphone into the backseat and sped the rest of the way to the call.
Pulling up outside the house, James knew something was wrong. The house looked empty as he stepped out of the car. He prepared to knock on the door when an ear-splitting scream broke through the air coming from inside the house. Sensing emergency, James kicked the door down and pulled out his sidearm. The house still seemed empty as he stepped inside. Cautiously kicking aside debris from the door, he made his way to the back of the house. Another scream came from below him as he walked by a door in the back hallway. Flinging it open he saw stairs leading into the basement. He hurried down them, keeping his gun tightly in his hands. As he descended, he saw artificial light flooding out from beneath a closed door to the left. He flicked the safety off his gun as he reached with one hand to open the door. He gave it a shove and it swung open slowly. As it opened, it revealed a bloody massacre in the center of the room. A mother and two children were lying across the ground. Part of their bodies had been ripped apart, with trails of intestines showing where they had been dragged. One of the mother's arms was around one of the children, whose lifeless eyes stared at James from where they sat inside a partially destroyed face. The other child had been dragged further away, and was propped up against the wall, the fragile pale neck snapped to the side. James almost dropped his gun in surprise. He whirled around as he heard a noise behind him, and peered into the darkness. He heard a faint groan coming from the other side of the basement. “This is Sherriff Lenart of the Holly Glen police force,” James barked, his voice very loud in the silence of the house. “Come out with your hands above your head. If you are injured, tell me now!” Another groan and an object hit the floor, clattering noisily. James looked down to see a spray paint can had rolled over by his foot. He pulled his flashlight from his belt and flipped it on. Shining it into the darkness, he looked around slowly before taking a few cautious steps forward. Despite it being the early afternoon, none of the light from upstairs trickled down to the basement. James walked slowly, his boots crunching over an unknown substance on the concrete floor. Tattered window coverings effectively blocked out the light from the half windows that were placed sporadically about the room. The beam of his flashlight seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness as he moved it back and forth. Without warning, the basement door slammed shut. James whirled around, turning both his flashlight and gun on where he thought the door was. Now it was completely dark except for the light of the room behind him and the weak light from his flashlight. James moved back towards the stairway and that's when he saw the man. His right arm was dangling useless at his side. He was drenched in sweat and seemed to be giggling deliriously. His eyes were bloodshot and he was bleeding out of his mouth. His clothing was covered in blood splatters, and he was holding a metal baseball bat in his left hand, although it looked as if it was causing his shoulder great strain to even hold it. James raised his gun and aimed it straight at the man. “Drop the weapon and put your hands on the wall,” James said, training his flashlight on the man's face. The man didn't even wince in the bright light and likewise didn't drop the weapon. He giggled some more, and lifted the weapon with obvious difficulty. His eyes darted back and forth, and he looked over at James, focusing all of his attention on the sheriff. He took a stumbling step forward, almost falling over as he did so. James didn't back away, and raised the gun again. “Drop the weapon, now!” The man rushed at him suddenly, swinging the bat as he did so. James fired his gun, but at the same time felt the bat connect with his side. He went down with a cough, managing to catch himself on his hands and knees. His gun went flying from his hand and skittered away into the darkness. He managed to keep a hold of his flashlight and swung it back to his attacker. The man had taken the bullet in the shoulder and had dropped the bat. However, he hadn't relented. Swinging his torso back to so that he was facing James, he grinned. Staggering forward, he jumped onto James, straddling his chest and gripping tightly onto the front of his uniform. In a swift motion, he lunged forward as if to bite at James' neck. James twisted away and flipped the flashlight around in his hand, using the blunt end to bash in the man's head. The man released him with a groan, but then came back again clicking his teeth together. “Determined son of a...” James growled out, using the flat palm of his hand to knock the guy's jaw away and swung his other arm around, using the extra momentum to carry the heavy flashlight right onto the back of the man's neck. He heard a satisfying crunch of bone and the man slumped a bit. James scrambled to his feet. Looking around quickly he shone the flashlight over the floor. He couldn't see his gun anywhere. Reaching for his belt he felt for his radio and saw that the man had bit through the wires. Swearing, he reached for his cellphone. Then he remembered he had thrown it into the backseat of his car. Smacking himself in the forehead at his carelessness, he began making his way up the stairs, planning on using the radio in his vehicle. About halfway up the stairs, he saw shadows moving around from upstairs. He flipped his flashlight off on pure instinct. His side ached from where he had been hit with the bat and he knew without his weapon he'd be at a disadvantage at this state. Shoes stopped in front of the door to the basement and paused. James held his breath. Then they continued on at an odd loping pace. Suddenly James came face-to-face with a pair of eyes. Someone was being dragged along the floor in front of the basement door. They blinked in agony and James felt a yell of surprise welling up in his throat. Those dark eyes stared at him and parched lips mouthed 'Kill me...'. Then the person was yanked away, being dragged from view. Another person walked by the door, at that limping gait. James hurried down the stairs, turning the flashlight back on. He tried to ignore the thoughts racing through his head. He was berating himself; a cop sworn to protect and serve the public, now a cop who had shied away from his duties and ran away in cowardice. The door opened slowly behind him and he threw himself into the dark room, away from the massacre that still lie quiet in the other side of the basement. He danced his flashlight over the floor and walls quickly, looking for a place to hide. Footsteps came down the stairs. James recognized them as that weird stride from before and knew he was in danger. Holding onto his side, he flicked the flashlight off again, throwing himself between two shelving units. A shadowed figure stood between the lit room and where James hid, staring down at the body of the man whom James had fought with earlier. It seemed like hours that he just stood there, until he finally moved into the lit room, away from James, leaving the body lying crumpled on the floor. A shining object caught James' eye as the bulky figure pushed the door open, letting light briefly flood the whole basement before the door shut again. James recognized the glint of his gun. He dropped to his knees and crawled carefully over to where he had last seen the sparkle of metal. The door opened again suddenly and James was washed over with light. Staring up, his eyes met bloodshot ones, and then the jaw fell open into a bloody grin.
sorry for mistakes. I didn't do a lot of editing on this one. Just wanted to rush it out for you guys. As soon as James' timeline is synched with the girls, it's back to the High School. Hope you like his character...