I wish I'd kissed Mark goodbye.
I was just pulling into the parking lot when I got a call from one of my favorite kids. Syds was crying and asked if she could come spend the day at the warehouse with me. I couldn't get the full story out of her over the phone, but that's not unusual. Her parents are going through an incredibly messy divorce and I think the main sticking point is who gets custody of her. Syds often comes over to "help" when her parents have court dates. Anyway, her mom dropped her off about 10 and said she said her mom would pick her up around 2. Her mom never came back.
We were downstairs getting her face washed and her hose blown when we started hearing the pounding. Didn't hardly ping on my radar. I work in Mountain View, for fuck's sake. Every afternoon this week there is a group of kids in the parking lot at the Samoan church across the street marching around and chanting. Someone opened up my door and CLUCKED at me last night. Mountain View majors in weirdness.
It wasn't until someone started screaming that we really realized anything was wrong.
Katch from the museum was the one who told us. She's building this sculpture thing out in the courtyard of the museum. It's surrounded by a chain link fence on two sides, so she had a view of Bragaw down past the Red Apple. She saw them starting to come towards her, but her automatic instinct was that it was some of our "local color" coming to harass her about fencing off part of their drinking area. She said it wasn't until they got really close that she saw that they were missing limbs or parts of their faces.
We were just trying to get Syds calmed down from that, Katch was trying to backpedal and suggest that maybe it was all a trick of the sun, when we heard glass smashing and the jingle bell tied to the museum's front door start to jingle. Then somebody started to scream.
One of the dogs who comes to work with the museum ladies every day is named Tinker. He's a rather sweet little cockapoo who's owner has visited all manners of oddities on his fur. He's been shaved. He was dyed green for St. Patrick's Day. When his owner came around the corner holding half of him in her arms, it didn't seem strange for a moment. I think I was in shock.
It was Syds who snapped us out of it first. She started screaming about how they could get in through broken windows and she helped Katch push one of the stuffed yaks into the door frame between us and the museum. The other lady was frozen, just holding on to Tinker. We couldn't get her to move at all. We finally had to give up when we started seeing shadows on the walls of the museum coming our way.
The three of us made it upstairs and blockaded the tops of both staircases with old flats, chairs and couches. Thank God for all the junk in our set/prop collection. Thank God I was so busy with Syds that I forgot to unlock the downstairs door when we came in.
There's some food from "Much Ado" left over, mostly pretzels and pub mix. Most of the stuff in the fridge has gone off already. There's half a jug of water in the water cooler and I have 2 Diet Cokes left.
The sun won't be going down, so we'll be able to watch them all night. Most of them seem to be idling around the streets, but we can still hear them downstairs. I don't dare let Syds try to call her dad, I'm afraid they'll hear us up here.
I'm glad I just refilled my prescriptions of Soma and Ultram. I figure that will be enough to take care of Syds and maybe me if it comes to that. Katch keeps talking about trying to make a run for it using some of the swords or something. I worry that she doesn't understand the concept of "props".
If anyone is out there still, please send help. It's the end of the world out there.