Marionette Zombie Series | Book 10 | From The Darkness

by Poe, S. B.

  “John, the trailer burned. We’re heading to the coast.”

  “Tessa go back to the house, Joe didn’t make it.”

  “Billy, we’re trying for Birmingham, Mom”.

  “They tried so hard.” Evelyn said. “To connect.”

  “Maybe it worked.”

  “I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Maybe we will, look.” Bridger pointed to a painted barn roof. “Eat at Woody’s. Next Exit. Left 2 miles.”

  “You think someone’s still there?” Evelyn asked.

  “It’s close enough to us we should check.”

  “You still think we’re surrounded?”

  “Look at it this way. I know I am an exceptional specimen of mankind and have exceedingly rare capabilities but I am also quite humble. Remarkably humble some might say and being the humble person that I am I know we’ve mostly survived on good luck. And I bet there’s a lot more people out there that has had the same good luck.” He smiled.

  “Woody’s?”

  “Sounds lucky, doesn’t it?” He eased onto the exit ramp. When he topped the hill, he checked both ways then turned left.

  Ham swayed in the saddle as the horse settled into a comfortable walk. She had been listening to the different birdcalls as they passed from houses to woods down the two-lane road. Scott sat back from the saddle slightly and hugged his backpack between him and Ham.

  “More deaduns up ahead.” Ham said.

  Scott sat up straighter and looked over her shoulder. Two of the dead were standing just off the road on the left side and one was walking down the middle of the road away from them.

  “Maybe go around?” He asked.

  “Cut through the woods?”

  “I guess.”

  Ham pulled back on the reins slightly and Cheval came to a stop. She looked into the woods to her left and to her right before looking back towards the deaduns. She steered the horse to the right and it made a slight jump as it crossed the little ditch the rain had washed beside the road.

  “Whoa.” Scott said as he flailed his hand towards Hams shoulder. He grabbed her tight to keep from falling off.

  “Ow.”

  “Sorry. I almost fell.”

  “Just hold on.” She said. The horse went between a couple of trees and found a narrow opening in a honeysuckle vine. The woods opened up away from the edge of the road and she could glimpse the deaduns through the trees. She drifted the horse a little deeper into the woods. The ground sloped away from the road slightly and they lost sight of the dead.

  “You think we’re by them yet?” She asked.

  “Just a little more.” He said. The horse was almost silent going through the woods.

  She steered him back towards the road and as they approached, the next stand of small pines the blacktop came into view. They crossed the small ditch with little effort and soon the Cheval’s footfalls were the only sound they could hear. Scott kept looking back down the road but none of the dead followed. Soon the woods gave way to cleared timber overgrown with blackberries and thistle. Ham steered Cheval along the side of the road where the blackberries grew thickest. The horse paused long enough to snack a mouthful before continuing on.

  “How much further?”

  “Hard to say. I know it seemed a pretty good ways when we were coming in. A few miles at least. I don’t think we’ve been far enough. Obviously.” He said.

  “More deaduns.” She nodded ahead.

  “I guess we go around them again.” He sighed. “It’s going to take forever if they keep showing up.”

  “You wanna just take care of them. You know. Pop, pop.” She put her knuckles to the side of her head.

  Scott sat taller in the seat again and looked at the deaduns ahead. Three but only two were walking. The third one had lost most of its leg to the ones eating her before she turned. A white femur jutted from the crusted bloody hip and bits of flesh swam in the rot deposited on the asphalt.

  “You think we should?”

  “So they can’t hurt someone else.” Ham said. She pulled back on the reins and Cheval stopped. “We’ll leave her here.”

  Ham climbed down from the horse and wrapped the reins around on overhanging branch. She pulled the spear from the scabbard.

  “You want my bat?” She reached over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, I could use that.” He sat his backpack on the ground next to the horse and took a couple of swings with the bat.

  “Ready?” She asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go.” She said.

  They stepped from the side of the road onto the asphalt and started walking towards the dead. The nearest one turned and fixed its opaque eyes on the two of them. It let out a low moaning growl as it started towards them. The sound drew the attention of the one on the ground and it snarled as it spun around. The third one twisted on its hips and fell over trying to turn around. It wobbled as it tried to regain its footing and planted its face on the asphalt. It twisted and pulled its legs under it, rising up with part of its lip and two teeth still lying on the ground.

  “This one first.” Scott said as he stepped around Ham.

  He swung the bat at the things leg and shattered its knee. It fell hard. Before it could spin over Ham drove the tip of her spear into the back of its head. Pop. Scott went straight to the one who had lost part of its face and hit it the same way. It hit the ground and Scott swung the bat at its head. It cracked the skull but the thing still managed to roll over and reach for him. The spear drove from one ear to the other. Pop. Ham turned and lifted the spear above her head. She brought it down in the temple of the one dragging its big leg bone behind it. Pop. She stepped back from the three deaduns lying motionless on the ground and wiped her hand back over her forehead.

  “We make a good team.” She said.

  “That went well. No problems.” Scott smiled.

  “Yeah, no problems.” She turned towards Cheval.

  The deadun stumbled between the trees and grabbed for the horse. Cheval startled and kicked sideways at the interloper. The hoof struck the thing in the shoulder and spun it around hard. Hard enough that it spun into a tree and bounced it right back into Cheval’s side. Ham watched as the horse raised itself up on its hind legs and stomped at the thing. Its front hooves hit the ground just in front of the deadun and it swiped at the horse’s nose. Cheval pulled back and the reins dropped to the ground. She bolted. The deadun stumbled forward as the horse leapt across the road and darted into the woods.

  “NO!!!” Ham called. She took off running.

  Scott reached for her but she was already beyond his grasp. He began running after her. The deadun lost interest in the horse when Ham yelled and turned to face her as she ran. It stumbled forward, the dislocated shoulder the horse kicked noticeably lower than the other, and tried to reach for her. The bad arm bent at the elbow but no further. She drove the spear up through center of its nose. Pop. The thing collapsed to the ground. She barely registered it as she turned to follow the horse into the woods.

  “Wait!!” Scott called before she disappeared between the trees. “Wait, just a second.”

  She paused. He scooped his backpack up as he ran beside her. He doubled over with his hands on his knees. “Just wait, there could be more deaduns.” He said between breaths.

  “I know. That’s why we have to go. She may be in trouble.” Ham said.

  “She may be in trouble? She? Look around. We’re in the middle of nowhere, miles away from home with a bat, a spear and a couple of knives. My rifle is on the back of that horse. I don’t think she’s the one in trouble.” Scott said.

  “Well if we had your rifle and a ride home we wouldn’t be in trouble. So we still have to find Cheval.” Ham said. “Either way.”

  “Fine, but no more running. Okay?” He asked.

  “Okay. Let’s go.” Ham stepped into the woods. Scott followed.

  Tables and Chairs

  Evelyn pulled the chair away from the table and sat d
own. The wood on wood squeak echoed through the empty building. The parking lot held a shit splattered blue sedan that had been sitting for a long time. The flat tires were overgrown with weeds almost up to the bumper. The rest of the lot was cracked asphalt and crushed rock, pockmarked with clumps of slowly dying thistle. They had stood outside listening and watching for ten minutes. Nothing moved. They had entered through the front door that was closed but not locked. The place was not in disarray but it felt empty. She turned as the spring-loaded kitchen door swung open.

  “Anything?” She asked.

  “Clean as a whistle. Not a pot, pan, can or bottle. This place has been through and through.”

  “You see the windows?” She nodded.

  The restaurant was mostly glass across the front and down one side. There was a three-foot tall brick flowerbed that surrounded the bottom half of the building. Before the dead came it held mostly ivy and cigarette butts. But now it acted as a barrier to keep the dead from getting to the glass. But the windows were streaked with fingers of blood where the dead had tried.

  “I wouldn’t have wanted to be in here to see that.” She said.

  “Yeah, probably best we don’t hang around.” Bridger said.

  “Where to now?” She stood and pushed the chair back under the table.

  “Not sure.”

  “Maybe you were wrong?”

  “About what?”

  “About being surrounded by people.” She smiled.

  He opened the door and stepped outside. The hummer was parked just to the left of the entrance. She followed him into the sunlight. She almost ran into his back as he stopped.

  “What are you doing?” She watched him slowly raise his hands.

  “You were saying?” He said.

  She looked around him to the right and saw the old man holding the shotgun.

  “Come on out. Don’t want no trouble.” The old man said. “Step on out into the parking lot.”

  “No problem. We don’t want no trouble either.” Bridger said as he stepped out into the open.

  “You got guns?” The old man asked.

  “In the car. And I have a pistol on my hip.” Bridger volunteered.

  “Keep your hands away from it.” The old man said.

  “Sure thing.”

  “How bout you missy?”

  “Just a knife. My gun is in the car.” She said.

  “Y’all just passing through?” The old man asked.

  “Sorta.” Bridger said.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “If you’re asking do we have any intention on staying, no, we don’t. But we’re not just passing through either. We live near here.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Rather not say. Not sure I trust you.” Bridger said.

  “Son, I’m the one holding the gun. I decide who trusts who.” The old man said.

  “Well do ya then?” Bridger asked.

  “Do I what?”

  “Trust me.”

  The old man smiled a little and chuckled.

  “What’s your name son?”

  “Bridger, Bridger Preston.”

  “Bridger, my names Zachary. Where ya from son?”

  “Nashville.”

  “I thought you said you were from around here?” Zachary asked.

  “Oh I thought we were doing that before all this thing. Sorry.”

  “So?”

  “So where ya from?”

  “Still not telling you.” Bridger said. “Can I put my hands down now?”

  “Go ahead.” Zachary lowered the gun.

  “You gonna tell him?” Bridger nodded.

  “Who?” Evelyn asked.

  “The guy over there at the gas station across the street. His scope keeps flashing in the sun every time he looks over the counter.” Bridger smiled.

  Zachary turned and waved his gun back and forth. Evelyn watched the shape stand from behind the counter and make its way through the door. It wasn’t a guy.

  “My niece. Wendy.” Zachary said as the woman crossed the street. “She’s a pretty good shot. I didn’t catch your name yet.” He turned towards Evelyn.

  “Evelyn. Collins. From South Springs.” She said.

  “South Springs. Go Pachs, yeah.” Wendy said as she stepped beside Zachary.

  “Yeah, Go Pachs.” Evelyn put a halfhearted fist in the air.

  Wendy was a few years younger than either her or Bridger but just a few. Zachary’s movements and actions hinted at a much younger man than the shadowy gray face and even grayer beard. His eyes still held a noticeable spark but time was catching up to it.

  “This your place?” Bridger threw his thumb over his shoulder.

  “Used to be. I owned the building. Fellow had the restaurant rented it from me. He didn’t make it. He was the first popper I saw up close. Weren’t the last though. That’s for sure.”

  “We saw the windows. Were you in there when it happened?”

  “I wasn’t. She was.” Zachary put his hand on Wendy’s shoulder. “She came up here looking for me.”

  “It was a long night.” Wendy said.

  “How’d you get out?” Bridger asked.

  “Me and my oldest boy, Matty stood right over there at the gas station shooting them. One hundred and thirty seven. And another dozen that got drawn to the gunfire.” Zachary said.

  “So there're others here? You said your oldest boy.”

  “There are.”

  “How many?”

  “Rather not say.”

  “Gotcha.” Bridger smiled. “Look Zachary, what do you say we head back inside and grab a table? Maybe trade war stories. Maybe work on that trust stuff.”

  Zachary scratched behind his ear and swiped at his beard. He leaned over and whispered into Wendy’s ear. She spun around and headed back towards the gas station.

  “Sure let’s go in.” Zachary said.

  “Where’s she going?” Evelyn asked as they moved towards the door.

  “I told her to grab a bottle of Scotch from my truck. She’ll be right back.”

  “I like the way you think Zachary.” Bridger said.

  Evelyn pulled the chair away from the table again. Wendy sat on the bench that one time held customers by the front door as they waited to be seated. The shotgun lay across her lap. Bridger sat down next to Evelyn. Zachary twisted the cap from the bottle and took a sip.

  “Sorry. No glasses.”

  “No problem.” Bridger took the bottle and took a good pull. He passed it to Evelyn.

  “No thanks. Someone has to drive us home.” She smiled.

  “Suit yourself.” Bridger took another pull and then passed the bottle back to Zachary.

  “So I’m guessing y’all the ones holed up in Collier.” Zachary said matter of fact before taking another swig. “Heard stories about that place.”

  “What makes you say that?” Evelyn asked.

  “Well you come from the south. You said as much. Only thing south of here is Collier or the lake. Ain’t talked to anyone from the lake. Like a black hole down there or something. But Collier. Yeah. Heard stories.” Zachary said.

  “What stories?” Bridger asked. “From who?”

  “Folks that left there. Some of the ones that came north stopped here. Stayed a day or two. Moved on. Talked with em, kinda like we’re talking with you now. They told me stories about the walls they were trying to build. And they all left for the same reason.” Zachary said.

  “A man named Cotton Smalls.” Bridger said.

  “That’s right. Same with you?” Zachary asked.

  “Nope but we’ve heard those stories too. He was gone when we got there. They went through a bad patch. Only a few survived.” Bridger said.

  “I get how she got there.” Zachary nodded to Evelyn. “South Springs ain’t that far, but Nashville? How the hell did that happen? Or were you lying?”

  “No, no. I’m from Nashville. When this all started I made a beeline for a friends house. That friend happened
to be her next-door neighbor. We came up from South Springs together.” Bridger said.

  “And you just happened to find Collier after something bad happened to it? You didn’t make something bad happen to it did you?”