by Urban, Tony
He stood, because he never liked long goodbyes, and headed to the door. Prince moved to follow but Aben pointed. "Stay." His voice was firm, and the dog plopped its hindquarters onto the floor. He remained that way when Aben stepped out of the house and was still sitting when Aben closed the door and locked the dog inside. He half expected the dog might be sitting that exact same way when he got back. Then he realized the situation to be much more a case of if than when.
Chapter 47
After Aben and Mitch had returned, they’d shared all the information they'd gathered. Grady was heading to the Rio Grande to baptize the members of his flock who were still human. They estimated there were about four or five dozen of them.
Once that was finished, they’d head to Shard End to save everyone who lived here. After that, no one knew, and Wim supposed that it didn't really matter. Either they'd stop Grady's army before then, or they'd all be dead. And, if the latter became reality, the ultimate plan was none of their concern.
Some time ago, one of the men in Shard End had arrived with a mule and another had found a scraggly, malnourished stallion that made Gypsy look spry. Still, when it came to transportation, they were of the begging, not choosing, variety and both animals were enlisted for the coming journey. Saw took the Mule and Mitch the old horse, which he quickly named Rip Van Winkle. Wim thought that an even worse name than Gypsy.
As they were the only five with animals to ride, Wim, Mead, Aben, Mitch, and Saw chose to take the lead while the other couple dozen men and women followed on foot. One thing they weren't short on were weapons. There were more than enough to go around multiple times over. As Wim looked upon them, he thought they looked like a medieval army, ready to take on the world even though the odds were heavily stacked against them.
It took a day and a half of riding before the river came into view beyond them. Wim was surprised at how wide it was, but the water looked calm and on the shallow side. More like a long lake than any river he'd seen before.
"That should be the spot," Aben said from the side. He pointed to how the land on the opposite side seemed to funnel into the waterway. "That's how Juli described it and this is pretty much a straight shot from the route they were taking."
"You think there's much of a chance their plans changed?" Wim asked.
"No. From as much as I could gather, they might as well have been carved in stone. I don't expect any deviation."
Mitch pushed his old horse into the fray. "I still don't like going all in based on what she told us. She could have been lying."
"I'd be surprised if she was."
"I wouldn't. How about me and Saw ride ahead, like a scouting mission."
Wim thought the boy seemed too eager to play soldier, but on the flip side, it might not be a bad idea. He saw Aben looking at him.
"What are your thoughts?" Aben asked.
"I think I'll go along with whatever you decide."
Aben scratched his beard absentmindedly. "Well, I don't fancy being in charge. Especially of this lot."
"Aw right then," Saw said. "If none of you want to make a decision, I will. Like Mitchy said, we'll ride out and see what that goose has got cooking. While we're gone, you set the bombs--"
"They're not really bombs," Aben said.
"They go boom don't they?"
"That's the plan."
“Then they're bombs. You put em on that side of the river." He pointed to the opposite shore. "Stagger em out and try to hide em a little. Don't need a big fookin sign announcing what the fook's up, now do we?"
No one responded.
"If my people get here before we return, you tell em to wait back that way." He pointed again, behind them. "Keep em outta sight." Saw looked each man in the eyes. "Everyone good with that?"
"What makes you the strategical mastermind?" Mead asked.
"I took on the Ark, didn't I?"
Wim raised an eyebrow. "And ran once the going got tough."
Saw gave a wide, nauseating grin. "Maybe I did. But is there anything worthwhile left of it?"
Wim didn't answer. Saw was right about that much.
"That's what I thought. So, unless anyone's got a better plan, let's get on with it."
He kicked his mule into action, trotting down the hillside toward the river, and Mitch followed.
The three others watched as they reached the water and pushed their four-legged beasts into the gentle currents. It was two to three feet deep, and they had no trouble crossing, then starting up the opposite side.
Wim, Aben, and Mead exchanged glances.
"He talks too much," Mead finally said.
Aben rolled his eyes. "Talk about the pot and kettle."
Wim smiled as he watched them. Despite it all he thought he was tremendously lucky to be surrounded by men such as these. He only hoped, buy some miracle, they could all come out of it alive.
Chapter 48
Aben had placed eight five-gallon buckets of explosives, camouflaging them with debris and rocks, anything he could find to make their presence less obvious. It was all going well until bucket number nine.
He used a knife to dig about a foot into the loose soil and placed the bucket inside. For cover, he spotted a wiry, dead piece of sagebrush. It was almost the perfect size to conceal the pail, so he reached underneath it and grabbed hold of the trunk.
That's when he was bit. Then bit again. And again.
He jerked his hand back, thinking he’d stuck his hand into a nest of ground wasps. Or maybe a passel of scorpions. But a moment later he heard the rattle and he knew he'd made a terrible mistake.
Rather than doing the smart thing and getting away, Aben's temper took over and he yanked the bush out of the ground. That gave him a perfect view of the rattlesnake nest. There was a big one, probably three and a half feet and he guessed it was the matriarch. Two small ones curled at her side. They were somewhere between olive green and tan in color with a series of dark, multicolored blotches running down their backs. As they neared the tails, the blotches gradually morphed into cross bands.
Aben thought they might be a kind of beautiful, but he also suspected they were Mohave rattlesnakes which, if his memory was correct, were just about the most deadly snakes in North America. He considered killing them, mostly out of spite, but he knew they were just doing what came naturally and that he was the stupid one, so he let them be.
He took the sagebrush with him as he left. May as well get something out of this mess. He covered the bucket with the bush, then took a reluctant look at his hand. There were three sets of bite marks. One in the fatty bit between his thumb and forefinger, one on the back of his hand, and the third on the underside of his wrist. His hand already looked a smidge larger than it had before, and he suspected this would go relatively quick from here on out.
"Wim! I need to chat a minute."
Wim was fifty feet away, placing buckets further down the river. Aben saw his head turn and watched as he jogged to him. Aben took a seat on the ground and waited.
It took him only a few moments, but by the time he arrived, Aben was already sweating and unless his mind was playing tricks on him, the swelling had progressed a couple inches further up his arm.
"What do you need, Aben?"
"More than you can give, actually. But what's most important is that you pay real close attention while I point out where I put the last nine buckets."
Confusion clouded Wim's face and Aben had the feeling he was going to start asking questions. He needed to stop that. "Just keep quiet and listen."
He pointed out the various hiding places, then asked Wim to do the same. The man did so without error and that took some of Aben's stress away.
"That's good."
"All right. But can you tell me why?"
Aben didn't want to tell him, but knew trying to keep it secret would be pointless soon. He held up his wounded paw. "I got snakebit. Rattle snakes."
Wim's eyes grew wide and traveled from Aben's hand to his face, then back ag
ain. "Oh, damn."
That was the closest Wim had come to cursing in all the time Aben had known him and, despite his predicament, that made him smile.
"Yeah. Damn would be a good starting point."
"You're sure they were rattlers?"
"Most definitely." Aben patted the ground beside him. "Sit with me a spell, will you?"
"We need to get you back across the river. Maybe Mead will know what--"
"Wim, my dog listens better than you. Now, sit."
Wim did, sending up a puff of dust as he flopped down.
"Saw's going to take the lead, but you need to keep him in check, if such a thing's possible. If he sends everyone in there all helter skelter, it's going to be a bloodbath and we don't have the numbers for that. You'll have a bit of an advantage having the higher ground. Use that. You might think it's cruel, but take them by surprise and be quick about it. You have to be merciless if you want to come out of this mess on top."
Wim didn't respond. The color was gone from his face and Aben thought he might be heading toward shock.
"Wim, you got me?"
"We could cut it off."
"What?" Aben asked.
Wim's hand dropped to the handle of his machete. "Your arm. I don't know if it really works but they do it in the movies all the time."
Aben appreciated his concern, but he didn't want to waste time on nonsense. "I'm already down a hand and half a foot. I'm not a puzzle, Wim. I can't stand to lose any more pieces. Especially my arm. Hell, I wouldn't even be able to wipe my own ass."
"But you'd be alive."
"The way my heart's beating, the poison's all through me. Cutting my arm off won't do any good. It'll just make a hell of a mess."
Wim sighed, but Aben thought he was accepting the reality of the situation. "I just can't believe this."
Aben licked at his lips and realized he couldn't feel them. "Yep. This sucks."
"It sure does."
They sat there in silence for a little while. Aben thought he should come up with something profound to say but had little luck. "I didn't expect this," he settled on. "Back when Mead saved me, I thought that meant my life was to serve some sort of purpose. That I was to do some good. Not die here, of a goddamn snake bite, before the fighting even gets going. It seems so damned pointless."
Wim shook his head. "If we stand any chance of stopping Grady, that's all because of you. Your ideas. That's not pointless."
"Mead could have done just as much, if not more. And with all that shit he wears, the snakes wouldn't have got him. Jesus Christ, my whole life depended on a pair of gloves. If that isn't something?"
Wim didn't respond but that was okay. Aben doubted it deserved an answer.
"I think you should be getting on now," Aben said.
"I can stay. I don't mind. I can even get some of the others if you want."
Aben shook his head. "I don't require a goodbye party. I'd just as soon be alone. No offense"
"I understand." Wim stood, but before he left he reached down to shake hands.
Aben returned the gesture, even though his palm was fat and clumsy. “Can you do me a favor? Two, actually?"
"Anything."
"Don't forget about my dog, okay? You can have him if you want, but if you don't, see that someone kind takes him."
"I'll make sure he's cared for."
"I appreciate that. He’s a real good dog.” Aben swallowed hard and changed the subject. “And can you leave me your revolver? Take the bullets except one. That's all I'll need."
Wim withdrew the gun from its holster and emptied the ammunition into his palm. Then he put one back into the cylinder and handed it over.
"Thank you."
Wim stared at him and Aben thought he could see gears turning inside his head. Then he spoke. "You've been a good friend, Aben. And I haven't had many of those in my life. It's been nice knowing you."
That made Aben smile. For the last few decades he’d cherished his solitude and wore his outsider status like a medal. He'd forgotten that life could be any different, but was glad it could be, even if only for a little while. "I'll say the same about you. I'm pleased we met and wish it could've lasted a spell longer." Aben tilted his head toward the river. "You get on now. Tell Mead I said goodbye. Saw and Mitch too, although I won't miss them quite as much."
"I will."
Wim left him and Aben was relieved. His face felt like an invisible force had swallowed it up and he could feel his heart pounding rapid fire in his chest. He suspected all this could go on for hours, but he didn't care to wait that long. All he wanted was to let Wim get out of sight.
Chapter 49
Wim flinched when the gun went off, but he didn't look back. There wasn't any point in exploring the aftermath. As he crested the embankment, he found Mead running toward him.
"Did you shoot?" Mead asked.
Wim explained as best he could. Mead took it hard, but Wim also picked up on a sense of resignation that he could relate to. None of them expected this to end well. They'd known that when they first saw Grady's flock and, if anything, the odds had just gotten worse. There wasn't anything they could do now but wait.
It was almost two full days until the waiting was finally over.
Wim scratched at the dirt with a stick, drawing random shapes then erasing them with his foot and starting over. The anticipation, if you could call it that, was wearing on him. He wanted to get on with it already, good or bad.
He got his wish when Mitch and his old stallion, galloped into the makeshift camp, kicking up a storm of dust in the process.
"They're coming! I'd say less than a mile out."
Any sense of calm disappeared with those nine words.
Chapter 50
There were two factions to Grady's flock. The first group, comprised of a few dozen men and women who remained human, had the lead while the zombies, which numbered over one thousand, took up the rear. Grady held court in the middle.
"Friends, for some of you this journey has taken years. For others, months. But I know, for all of you, it has been a challenge. Thank you, for believing and trusting. For never losing faith."
He looked to Juli. Of all his flock, she was the one who seemed to suffer the most from doubt and worry, but today even she appeared content.
"Ahead lies the river and the waters in which we will be reborn. Reborn without sin, without worry, without pain. So now, come with me." He said those words to the humans. To the zombies, he held his hand in a 'halt' motion. "Wait, children. Your time will come soon."
Over the previous months, there hadn't been the slightest deviation from what Grady was shown in his visions and he had no doubt that the events to come would be no different. Fear was a foreign emotion to him now because he knew God's plan was coming to fruition. Soon he would be reunited with Josiah. Soon he would be with God. Soon he would be home.
Chapter 51
It was only four of them who laid at the top of the hill and watched Grady's people flow into the river. Wim took it in through the scope of his rifle, while Saw, Mead, and Mitch viewed through binoculars or, in Mitch's case, nothing but his young eyes.
Soon, all the men and women were in the water, submerged to their waists. Grady stood at the opposite shoreline and they all faced him. Which meant they faced away from Wim and the others.
"I say we start," Saw said. "Pick 'em off like the sitting ducks they are."
Mitch was quick to agree but Wim's general curiosity preferred a slower approach. "Not just yet. Let's see what's up first."
"Aw, you're wasting time," Saw climbed to his feet and stomped away. Mitch followed, to the surprise of no one.
Wim watched them return to the Shard End group which was about twenty yards further back and completely out of view from the river. "Don't you go starting anything just yet."
"Yeah, yeah," Saw said. "We ain't waiting around all day though."
"I had no plans to." Wim turned back to the river where Grady had entered
the water.
The day was calm, with not even the slightest breeze, and Wim could hear his words.
"As Peter said in the second book of Acts, 'Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit."
Grady dipped his hands into the water and scooped up handfuls, tossing it over them as he moved down the line. "I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. God's promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off--for all whom the Lord our God will call."
This went on for several minutes as the little man gave all his followers a good drenching. Too long.
The sound of dozens of footsteps on the dry ground gave Wim plenty of warning that his pleas for patience had run their course. He didn't expect to be listened to, not when he was a stranger and Saw was the blowhard who'd been leading them for years.
He pointed past the river where the undead army formed a black oasis against the sand and stone. "Let them get closer, so they're by the explosives."
Saw shook his head. "No, Wim. Those folks down in the water ain't got no weapons as far as I can see. We wait, they might go back the other way and load up with guns and then we'll be fooked. We need to get em now and get em fast."
"I believe that's a mistake."
"Believe what you want." Saw turned to his people. "Are you all ready for this?"
Wim was surprised this lot had the sense not to respond with a thunderous roar of approval, giving away their location. Instead they nodded and muttered affirmatives.
"Good. Now there's no sense wasting bullets on a bunch of unarmed, church-going ninnies. Save your ammunition for the zombies and let’s do this the old-fashioned way!"
Saw raised a machete. Mitch carried Aben's war club. Others in the group had axes and knives, hammers and spears. Wim didn't know exactly how this was all going down, but he knew it would be bloody.
