by M. D. Massey
I reached over my shoulder for the katana, only to realize that it flew away from me when I’d sailed across the room. So, I went for the next best thing. I dropped my pack and grabbed my trusty old tomahawk in one hand, and drew my Bowie knife with the other. Weapons in hand, I sprinted back across the room and into the battle.
As I got close to being within striking range, the creature seemed to sense me and swung an arm in my direction. But the battle lust sung a war song deep inside my chest, high and pure and sweet, so I didn’t even slow down. I just slid underneath that huge tree limb of an arm and hacked at the thing’s right thigh above the knee as I slid past. Then I spun and slashed the back of its leg above the knee with the Bowie knife, ducked as it tried to grab me with its other arm, and slashed at its Achilles’ tendon on the other leg.
I rolled away as the thing staggered and fell to one knee. Bobby jumped on its back and began ripping and tearing at it with his claws and teeth. Gabby, now out of crossbow bolts, threw cutlery at the thing with reckless abandon. Where she’d found the knives was anyone’s guess, but she had buried about half-dozen folders and fillet knives into the thing already.
Then, the damnedest thing happened; it got back up. What the hell was this thing?
As it clambered to its feet, it grabbed Bobby off its back and threw him clean across the place into a climbing wall about thirty feet away. The kid bounced off it and landed on his feet, but I could tell he was loopy from the impact. Meanwhile, Gabby backed up some stairs, drawing down now with her little silenced .22 pistol, for all the good it would do. Neither she nor I wanted to start firing unsuppressed rounds in here, not with that huge deader herd outside. We were making enough noise as it was, and I was sure there were probably a couple dozen of them trying to find a way past that plywood already.
With the situation as grim as it was, I needed that katana. Let’s see you get back up with your legs chopped off, you son of a bitch, I thought as I scanned the room. I searched left and right, high and low, until I saw it, still quivering slightly where it had pierced a mannequin in mid-flight, about twenty-five feet on the other side of the retail floor. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to that sword, wrenching it free like Arthur pulling the sword from the stone, eager to rejoin the fight.
22
SUBSTANCE
But just as I headed back into action I saw something moving, hidden in the shadows of one dark corner of the room by the shoe section. It was a small figure, moving its hands in odd patterns in the dark. Intrigued, I stalked closer, using the shelves for cover so I could blindside whoever or whatever was back there. Sneaking up from behind, I came upon a small man dressed in an old-fashioned black suit, gesticulating and murmuring in some strange, vaguely-familiar foreign language that I couldn’t place.
Odder still, he wore a WWII military web gear harness over his suit. An assortment of pistols, knives, metal spikes, grenades, and glass bottles filled with various liquids and powders were attached to it. He also wore a blue Yankees cap to top off the whole ensemble. In short, he was a very a strange sight indeed. The weirdest thing, however, was that his hand movements and murmuring corresponded directly with the creature’s movements. He’s controlling it, I thought. Son of a bitch.
I snuck up behind him and placed the sharp side of the sword against his neck. “Call that thing off, or I’ll bleed you like a stuck pig.”
The little man raised his hands in surrender, and the creature turned toward us and crouched as if ready to save him. The man gave a small gesture, and the thing sagged in place and froze, more puppet-like in stillness than the way it had moved and fought just moments before.
“Ja, no need to get ugly. If you were one of Them, I’d be dead already. I surrender, gewiss, as it seems I have no choice in the matter.” He turned his head, slowly, then gingerly pulled the sword blade away from his neck, more to avoid getting cut as he looked me in the eye than out of fear, it seemed. “Now, if you will please allow me to explain, perhaps we can make further introductions and greet like civilized people, ja?”
I considered his request and went with my instincts. “Sure, my interest is piqued. Why not?” I lowered the sword.
He smiled. “Gut! Then we should eat while we make acquaintances.”
I dropped the sword to my side, and the little man turned around and nodded. “Rabbi Manny Borovitz, at your service.” He gestured to the creature that had attacked us earlier. “My associate, Josef, whom you have already met. He doesn’t speak, much—that is to say, not at all, ja?” He pronounced ‘Josef’ as “yo-sef,” which I assumed was either the proper German or Hebrew pronunciation.
Although I felt its gaze following me, the creature didn’t move a hair as the rabbi spoke. I noted that although he seemed to have a habit of sprinkling German words in here and there, the rabbi had only the slightest accent. If he was from Germany, he’d been gone from his country for a long, long time.
I sheathed the sword and motioned for the kids to join me. Bobby had to pop his shoulder back in place, but he’d be back in fighting form within the hour. Gabby was none the worse for wear, although she kept looking over at Josef with suspicion.
I introduced us each in turn. “I’m Aidan, and that’s Bobby, and this is Gabby. Now, can you tell me why your creature attacked us?”
“For the same reason you attacked it. You appeared to be a threat.”
I rubbed my back where I’d landed on the clothing rack. “Well, I have to say that getting thrown clear across the store might have had something to do with our assessment of the situation.”
The little rabbi shrugged and thrummed his fingers against his stomach. “Ja, well, now that’s all settled, and no harm has been done. Come, I will feed you, and you will tell me what brings you so close to the wolves and their den.” He motioned for us to follow, leading us to a previously hidden corner of the store where he’d set up camp. The space included a stove, sleeping pad and bag, and various camping implements. He lit a small camping lantern and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. I observed that his ability to move around the store in the dark indicated he’d been staying here for quite some time.
Rabbi Manny gestured around and grinned. “This store has everything, you know. Camping supplies, dehydrated food, cookstoves—I daresay I don’t know why someone didn’t clean it out already. But the wolves living in such close proximity are surely a strong deterrent.” He began busying himself with various pots and food packages, heating water on a small camp stove and pouring the contents of those packages into different containers as he spoke.
“So, I have been fighting Them for a very long time, ja? And, now things are bad, very bad, so I come here to keep the evil ones from making it much, much worse. But there is only me, and Josef, so all I can do is watch, and wait for an opportunity to present itself.” He poured hot water into the pots and bowls he’d prepared, then dropped aluminum sporks into each and began handing them out to us. I set mine aside, as did Gabby. Of course, Bobby threw caution to the wind and chowed down. The rabbi shrugged, then gave me a pointed look. “So, I have explained why I am here. Now, perhaps you tell me why you are putting the lives of these young ones in danger, and yourself as well?”
“Fair enough. I’m a hunter for the safe zone settlements out west. The wolves came through a few days ago, rounded all the people up, and brought them here. I aim to bring them back.”
He nodded. “Ah yes, I saw the wolves leading some people through a few days back. Weeks ago there were more who came in a smaller group.”
Gabby grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear. “He must be talking about the people from Canyon Lake.”
I turned to her in time to see a giant meaty fist full of crossbow bolts extend over her shoulder. The hand opened and they fell into her lap. To Gabby’s credit, she didn’t flinch, although she did give the thing the stink eye. I looked back over my shoulder and watched Josef tromp back off toward the back of the store.
I tilted my chin at
Rabbi Manny and jerked a thumb at Josef. “I thought the rabbinical order frowned upon golem creation.”
The rabbi sipped from a mug of tea he’d prepared and raised his cup to me. “Ah, a student of history! What do you know about golems, Aidan?”
Since Bobby seemed to suffer no ill effects, I took a bite of whatever dish the rabbi had handed me, if only to give me a chance to think. It was macaroni, and not bad considering it had been dehydrated and sitting on a shelf for the last eight years. I chewed, swallowed, and replied. “Legend has it that golems were created to protect the Jewish people from the Romans. But, the stories go back centuries before that, perhaps to the time of King Solomon.”
He tilted his head and smiled. “Indeed, they do at that. The knowledge was passed down from that time to us, perhaps as a means of protecting our people, or perhaps as a test for us, to see if we’d give in to our own hubris. Nonetheless, he is not a golem, per se—at least not in the truest sense.”
“Wait a minute. That thing is a deader?”
He pursed his lips and took a sip of tea. “Yes and no. When a Primary—that is, an evil spirit from beyond the Veil—takes over a body, generally speaking they kill the human while taking over their body. ‘Kicking out’ the person’s soul, as it were.
“So, I found this man, who was inhabited by a Primary, and I kicked out the Primary spirit and replaced it with—something else.”
I nodded. “You exorcised the spirit, and now you control that thing?”
He sipped his tea. “Ja, that is what I am saying.”
Bobby raised his hand, and Rabbi Manny nodded to acknowledge him. “So Josef is sort of like Frankenstein’s monster?”
The old man wagged a finger in protest. “No, nothing so crude. Where Frankenstein’s monster was a misshapen and cruel scientific distortion of the will and intent of Yahweh, Josef is a more pure imitation of His will. Frankenstein’s monster was a rebellion against God, an effort to prove that man can become God—Josef is no such thing.”
Bobby looked genuinely shocked. “You mean Frankenstein was real?”
I set down my bowl and took a deep breath, deciding Bobby’s question led to a deep well with depths I didn’t care to explore at the moment. However, I did take umbrage with what the rabbi suggested.
“You’re referring to the act of creation in Genesis. No offense, rabbi, but it all seems like the same pretension and vanity at play here. And, if you don’t mind me saying so, what you are suggesting seems just as unnatural as anything Shelley wrote about.”
The rabbi smiled and cocked an eyebrow. “You are traveling with a lycanthrope—does that not seem unnatural? And both you and the girl are much more than you appear. Yet, you accuse me of unnatural acts?” I tried to keep my face neutral, but I was curious how he might have determined that Gabby and I were... well, altered. He gestured offhandedly. “Do not act as if you do not know what I am talking about. I see things through Josef’s eyes that others cannot.”
I decided to change the subject. “So, you’re telepathically linked to Josef?”
He shook his head slightly. “Not all the time. Just when he is in battle, and I am communicating with him. I wasn’t quite sure if you were completely hostile, so I was guiding him earlier to make certain he didn’t injure you too badly, at least not until your intentions became known.”
Bobby worked a kink out of his shoulder and whispered under his breath. “Gee, thanks.”
He raised his hand again, and the rabbi answered. “Yes, dummkopf?”
Bobby smiled. “Hogan’s Heroes—great show.” He scratched his head as if reminiscing for a moment, then he continued. “Um, that thing is huge. Where’d you find him?”
The rabbi nodded. “I found him wandering the streets of Austin, terrorizing survivors. I put a stop to it and put his body to good use. As for his size—if I am not mistaken, he was a professional wrestler when he was alive.”
Bobby’s eyes lit up. “Cool! Which one? The Undertaker, Kane, The Big Show—oh, The Great Khali?”
The rabbi scowled and ignored Bobby. I glanced around to locate the creature and finally found him staring at us from a distant corner of the store. I realized then that I’d never heard the thing move—not once since we entered the store—which was spooky, considering its bulk. “So, getting back to what you were saying—Josef does have some autonomy, then?”
“Yes, more than I intended. Most golems do not, and those that do nearly always have to be destroyed. However, Josef is unique.”
Gabby looked over at it with a puzzled expression on her face. “Does he eat?”
Rabbi Manny’s eyes twinkled. “No, meine liebe kleine, he does not.”
Gabby looked down at her bowl. “Oh. I just thought he might be hungry is all.”
The kid must be missing her dog, I thought. I got the feeling she hadn’t had many friends growing up, and although I’m sure Bobby and I were swell company, she’d gotten attached to that pup in a hurry. Hopefully we’d be back with the LARPers and on our way to the facility soon so she could reunite with Ghost.
But this was no time to be maudlin; I focused back in on the conversation. “So tell me, Rabbi, what were your plans for stopping the wolves from—how did you put it—making things much worse?”
“I had no plans, really. You see, before all this happened, I was retired. I have lived a very long life—unnaturally long, you might say. There are always side effects to using the Kabbalah, and I have lived well past my years. All the people who I once worked with against the dark are long dead. And things were quiet, for a time. I thought my work was done.”
He looked out into the dark corners of the room. “But, perhaps we can help each other, ja? You help me stop the wolves, and I help you rescue your friends. Well, Josef and I, of course.”
Bobby sat up and raised a finger in the air. “Scratch, this is interesting and all, but aren’t we forgetting something?” I looked at him like a dunce, confused. He pointed to the front of the store. “Or someone?”
I slapped my palm against my head and jumped up. “Crap, I forgot about Sam!”
23
FLY
“Who is this Sam?” the rabbi asked.
“He’s a friend of mine from the settlements, and he’s stuck in a minivan out in front of this store.”
The rabbi nodded. “Oh, yes—he’s been there a few days. I’ve been waiting for the dead to disperse so I could send Josef out to help him, but they seem to have fixated on his presence for some reason. Unfortunately, their numbers are too great a challenge at the moment, even for Josef.”
I rubbed my chin and puzzled the matter over once more. “Well, we need to get him out of there, or else he’ll die from thirst or starvation. Bobby can safely lead the bulk of the dead away, but I may need your friend to clear a path through the stragglers for me. And, it’d be nice if Sam could rest up in here after we rescue him.”
“He is welcome to stay here if he is a friend of yours. Although, I cannot guarantee his safety if the wolves should find us.”
I nodded. “Understood. Can you open the back door for us?”
Manny scratched his nose and rocked back on his heels. “Certainly. Josef and I rigged the door, so it only opens from the inside. Just Josef has gone out since we arrived here. Come, I will let you outside, and see to it that you can escape back to the safety of the store once you have rescued your friend.”
We followed Manny to the back of the building, and he unlocked the door so we could leave. Watching Josef squeeze out the doorway was an amusing—and somewhat disconcerting—sight. I followed after him, then paused mid-stride. “Manny, do I need to give Josef any commands while we’re out here?”
He laughed. “Oh, nein. I assure you, he would not listen. I will guide him from here, ja?”
“Sounds good. Be back in a jiffy.” I gave a mock salute and exited with Bobby and Gabby on my heels. Once outside I huddled up with the kids. Josef stood several feet away, gazing off at nothing. “Bobby, y
ou know what to do. Raise a fuss, and don’t run faster than they can follow. Gabby, follow my lead and help me drop the stragglers who don’t take the bait.”
Bobby nodded. “You got it, chief.” He sped off around the corner and we snuck after him, watching to see how many of the dead would follow. The kid ran straight through the herd, all while singing Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of his lungs. When one of the dead got too close, he’d push them over. Within seconds, he was through the herd, with probably ninety percent of them following after him.
That only left twenty-five or so of them to kill. Peachy, just peachy. I was about to run forward to start chopping off heads when Josef came barreling out from behind us like a freight train in a tail wind. He began picking up deaders and tossing them onto the roof of the building next door, one after another. It was probably one of the funniest and scariest things I’d ever seen.
Gabby whistled softly. “Damn, remind me not to piss off the old guy. Or his pet monster.”
“Ditto that, kid. Let’s hope he stays on our side.”
Gabby squinted at me. “You think he won’t?”
“First rule of the apocalypse: trust no one.” I looked back to check Josef’s progress, noting that he’d cleared a nice, broad swath out to the van. He turned and looked over his shoulder at us as he tossed two deaders at once about forty feet, in a high arc that landed them on the adjacent roof. “Looks like that’s our cue. Let’s get Sam before more show up.”
We ran out to the van, but Sam was nowhere in sight. I looked through the passenger window and behind the front seats, where I found him cowering in hiding, likely scared shitless after watching the golem toss those dead around. I tapped on the window, just to see him jump.
Once he recognized me, he sat up faster than I’d ever seen a middle-aged guy move, unlocking the side door and sliding it open with alacrity. The smell that wafted out of the van was a combination of old piss, sweat, and fear. His face was ashen, and his eyes were practically bugging out of his head. “Scratch, holy shit! You’re the last person I thought to see here.” He paused and looked around, finally locating Josef behind the van, still tossing deadheads like frisbees. “Is the big guy with you?”
