The house reeked of mold, the same as Eric’s house, and similar stains, tears, and bullet holes marked the interior. He grabbed his mother’s small pistol off the floor and checked the magazine. Empty. He discarded the piece with a grunt. There were no bodies. He kept his field of vision high. He did not have the heart to look at those ignoble dark stains. He walked to the staircase and took pause at the missing baluster. There were no bodies, not even of the reanimates. He and his father had killed many of them, but they were gone just like the bodies of his family.
“They eat each other,” he said to himself. He felt no sorrow in that moment, only growing rage.
His father’s pistol was lying on the dark carpet with the slide open. The magazines were empty, but the boxes of bullets that he had brought down for his father were still there. He ejected the magazine, and loaded it with seven hollow point rounds. The box only had another ten rounds, which he dumped into his pocket. He went upstairs into his old room to grab some winter clothes for himself and Adam. The mirror on his closet door provided Jesse with an unwanted sight: a bearded man in filthy clothes. Earlier in his life, Jesse had remarked on how stupid people sounded when they said they did not recognize themselves when they looked in the mirror. Now, he understood the reality of those words. Missing was the handsome, clean cut wrestling champion and scholar. What he saw was an angry hobo with a sad story and a head full of rage. After a discomfiting minute, Jesse threw open the closet door. The force of the action sent the door crashing into the wall and off the runners. He ripped two jackets, two shirts, and two pairs of pants off their hangers. He also grabbed a handful of mismatched socks and underwear and went downstairs.
Adam faced away from the house keeping watch when Jesse came out with a pile of clothes in his hands.
“Here,” said Jesse. “Change.”
“Ah nice,” said Adam. “Why didn’t we ever grab clothes at the stores?”
“It was summer when this shit happened. The stores hadn’t gotten their winter shipments yet.”
“Ah, yeah,” said Adam. He took of his wet, rank clothes. “It’s summer forever at the Silverdale mall. Hey, that could be a slogan. I’ll remember that once the ad agencies get up and running again.”
“Don’t hold your breath on that one.”
They took turns changing to make sure neither was caught off guard. As Jesse was zipping up his old winter coat, a loud, distorted scream cut through the trees to the west. Adam was trying to put the second leg of his new pants on when the scream ripped through the still air. He fell onto the asphalt.
“Ah fuck!” he said. He pulled the pants on, zipped them, and drew his new pistol in a barrage of movement. Jesse looked at the tree line. Nothing stirred.
“Is that the scream you heard earlier?” Jesse asked.
“That would be the one, yeah,” said Adam.
“That’s not a person or any animal I know.”
“I was really hoping I was wrong about that.”
“You and me both.”
They began their pre-fight ritual. Jesse secured his cudgel to his belt, and checked the slide and barrel of his father’s pistol. Adam rechecked the rifle, slid it butt first into his large pack and left the barrel sticking out of the top.
Jesse noticed that Adam only had guns. He tapped Adam on the shoulder and said, “Go into the garage and grab a bat or something.”
“Ah shit, I left my axe back at the fort.”
Adam ran into the Jesse’s old garage and came back with a dull machete.
“That’s not sharp anymore,” said Jesse, “I used to use that to trim branches.”
“It’ll suffice,” said Adam. Jesse shrugged.
They crept through the Kitsap County forest. For half an hour, they waded through the thick growth and worked around the pungent evergreen trees. Jesse wondered how the creatures managed to get past these obstacles. He decided they must have taken another route.
“When we come back, we should use the main road. This is a pain in the ass,” Jesse whispered.
“We won’t have time to come back this way,” said Adam. “It’ll be dark before we get to the end of Eldorado.”
Jesse was about to reassure Adam when he heard footfalls in the distance. He crouched down and shot a sideways glance at Adam. Adam clenched the grip of the Hi Power. Jesse motioned for the rifle. Adam slid the left strap of the backpack off his shoulder and placed the pack on the ground. Jesse unzipped the bag, pulled the rifle out, and handed it to Adam.
"Take a look," Jesse said.
Adam holstered his pistol and took the rifle. He couched the butt of the rifle on his shoulder, and he looked through the scope.
“We’re fucked,” Adam said under his breath.
“What is it?” Jesse asked. Adam handed him the rifle.
“You look,” he said. Jesse closed his left eye and peered through the scope.
Ahead was a clearing: the same clearing from the vision he had on the platform of their fort. The reanimates were all huddled together. An odd creature paced in front of them like it was surveying the reanimates. It stopped for a moment. Its mouth opened unnaturally wide and it unleashed another scream. It was a primal roar that was twisted and amplified by an evil energy. A sound from the underworld that said, bring death to those that still live. Jesse closed his eyes and lowered the rifle. Adam took the rifle. He exhaled hard and put the rifle down.
“Yeah, it’s bad,” said Adam. “So what do we do?”
“That depends.”
“I already don’t like where this is going.”
“It’s not going anywhere.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” Jesse said. He gripped Adam’s shoulder hard and stared into his eyes, “You are welcome to try and make it back to the fort, but I’m tired of living like this. I’m tired of being the rabbit at the dog track. This time I’m going to take it to them.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Adam whisper-screamed at Jesse.
“If we go back to camp, they will hunt us down. They will wear us down until we are too starved and crazy to fight back. Eventually they’ll get us. That’s why zombie movies always end on a vague and depressing note, because you know full well that the zombies will get the survivors later. It never ends. Everyone we knew or loved is dead: every single one of them. As far as I’m concerned, we’re no less dead. Our death is right around the corner. It can be here in a fight, it can be in the dark with a snapped neck and an eaten face, or it can be when the food runs out. Fight or run. I don’t care anymore.”
Adam let what Jesse said fester inside him for a while. After a moment, he began to nod a little, then a lot. He breathed hard, angry breaths. His face drew back in a scowl. A crazed fire burned in Adam's eyes.
“All right,” he growled. “Fuck it. Let’s do it. I’m tired too. I’m tired of this shit. It might as well end here. I’m fucking terrified, but let’s do this shit.”
Adam shouldered the butt of his rifle. He looked through the scope as an assassin does: with the intent to kill. The cross hairs found their home on the head of the unique creature at the front of the reanimate horde. It wore leather armor, a heavy cloak, and a strange copper helmet.
“Cute hat, fucker,” Adam said.
No wind blew through the trees at the moment when Adam sucked in a slow, measured breath. His finger gently squeezed the trigger of the rifle. A deafening boom filled the silent forest air. The bullet ripped through the still air and found its mark unsuspecting. The would-be leader’s head whipped violently to the side and it collapsed. Its perforated helmet danced a moment on the damp soil. The bold move was made, and bloody chaos followed.
Four
Bloody Chaos
The strange creature collapsed and splayed out on the dirt. The horde milled without purpose. Jesse's whole body shook. A powerful adrenaline rush filled him with an unbearable amount of energy. He was ready to tear the reanimates apart with his bare
hands. He locked eyes with Adam and an unspoken message passed between the two of them that Jesse knew dated back to the dawn of man.
Brother, will you stand with me?
Will you kill with me?
Will you die with me?
…
Adam saw an aspect in his childhood friend that he had never witnessed in anyone before, let alone his closest friend. To him, Jesse looked like a man possessed. Adam nodded and readied his rifle. He aimed at the nearest reanimate and fired. Immediately after the creature's head caved in, Adam aimed at a new target and fired his next shot. He aimed and fired like a robot built for the sole purpose of executing the undead, until his clip emptied.
The arrhythmic blasts of the rifle ceased. Adam had spent all his rounds. He dropped the rifle.
…
Jesse pulled out his father’s pistol. A pure, supreme fury overcame him. He charged the horde like a lone soldier making a desperate attempt to capture a machine gun nest. He raised the pistol and fired fast.
…
Adam readied his pistol. He stuffed the spare magazines into his belt and moved toward the madness unfolding ahead of him. He could see Jesse plugging away at the mass of confused bodies. Jesse dropped down to one knee.
“I’m out!” Jesse shouted, “Fire while I reload.”
Adam spotted Jesse fumbling with his magazine.
Adam fired and picked off three reanimates with razor precision.
“What do we do after we run out of ammo?” he asked.
“We’ll play it by ear.”
Adam shot over Jesse’s head and brought another two reanimates crashing to the ground with a thud. Adam squinted and peered through the iron sights of the Hi Power until a rotting face came into focus.
Exhale. Squeeze. BAM! Thud. Inhale. Turn. Exhale. Squeeze. BAM! Thud. Inhale. Turn. Exhale. Squeeze. BAM! Thud.
Seven more creatures fell in a similar fashion. Another horrible click sent Adam into a panic. He reloaded a final time and steadied himself. Adam unloaded his ammo into the crowd of reanimates. Some fell, but not enough. Click! The ammunition was gone. He slid the pistol into his belt. The heat from the barrel singed the thick fabric of his pants.
“Ready!” Jesse yelled.
…
Jesse fired haphazardly into the lines of reanimates, and kept jerking the trigger long after his magazine was empty. He tossed the gun aside, pulled out his cudgel, and waited. He stretched his arms out, making his body into a T-shape. He took in some deep breaths and stared at his enemies. The creatures pushed past each other to get closer. The nightmare mosh pit surged forward in wide, staggered rows. Some were naked, their clothes disintegrated or torn away long ago. Many wore tattered suits stained reddish-brown.
…
Adam changed his focus to his left. A reanimate lunged for Adam. It tripped on a jutting root and stumbled forward. It grabbed onto Adam’s legs as it fell. He reeled back as its expressionless face turn upwards toward what mattered most to Adam. He drew in a quick breath and rained down frantic strikes on the creature’s skull. Its jaw slid open and its teeth nearly sunk into his upper thigh when one of Adam's wild punches missed and struck its shoulder. The creature's shoulder popped out of socket and its body dropped to the ground. Adam stomped on its head. His boot collided with the earth. A wet crunch signaled the end of the fight. In his frantic rage, Adam had forgotten his surroundings. Several reanimates were within a few feet of him. He backpedaled and grabbed his gun. He jerked the trigger and the hammer clicked. He tossed the gun aside.
“There's too many!” Adam yelled. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Jesse did not answer. Adam watched his friend raise his cudgel and yell with all his might at the unthinking creatures. He let out another roar and charged toward the approaching menace. It would have seemed comical in any other situation, but it was enough to inspire Adam not to run screaming from certain death. Adam drew the dull machete and followed behind Jesse.
…
Jesse swung his cudgel at the head of the reanimate at the front of the pack. A maddening thud split the air. Its skull imploded and it flailed its arms as it tumbled to the moist ground. Its flailing arms struck nearby creatures, tripping them.
An obese creature wearing a cheap, soiled suit grabbed at Jesse. He kicked it hard in the abdomen. The bulbous thing folded and fell backwards, bringing several others down with it like bowling pins. Jesse sprung toward the fallen undead and hammered down at their heads with his cudgel. Each swing crushed through flesh and bone and hit dirt.
In his peripheral vision, Jesse saw thin, gray fingers clutch his right shoulder. He drove his right elbow backwards. It struck the reanimate in the chest causing it to teeter off balance. Jesse whipped around and swung his cudgel. The reanimate’s face gave way to the ball of welded steel. Jesse’s vision blurred and time slowed down.
…
Her voice resonated inside his head.
“You are the one. Claim your destiny.”
A thrum filled his ears as a powerful vibration shook his body. It emanated from his chest and spread through his limbs. His vision went blue, then white. A shock wave exploded out of him. The creatures around him flew backward and dropped to the ground.
His vision returned to normal. Jesse felt an unnatural strength in his muscles. The force had rejuvenated him. He pounced on a fallen creature and rained down a wild onslaught of blows. An instant later, he sprung to his feet and wailed on the creatures that encircled him. He was surrounded, but unafraid. He swung hard and hit the creature in front of him in the chest. The force of the blow launched the creature backward. It collided with Adam.
…
Adam reeled, but he recovered right before a nearby reanimate latched onto him. He sidestepped its lazy attempt to tackle him.
Adam stayed on the outside of the mob, stabbing and hacking when a safe opportunity presented itself. His focus shifted to Jesse in the center of the horde. Jesse was kicking, elbowing, kneeing, and body checking the reanimates with ridiculous amounts of force. Whenever he swung his cudgel, each strike displaced several of the creatures.
A reanimate in a widow’s veil caught Adam off guard and swung its rail-thin fingers at his face. He jumped back and slashed at its head, but he misjudged the distance. Adam swung hard as the creature lurched forward, the machete missing the top of its head. It wrapped its spindly arms around his torso. It bit at his neck, but his coat was too thick to penetrate. Adam tucked into a roll and the momentum broke the reanimate's grip.
“Gah!” he yelled, “Get the fuck off me.”
He ran into the fray. A reanimate wearing a hospital gown neared Jesse. Before it could reach Jesse, Adam brought his machete down hard on the creature’s back. The blade of the machete stuck in the thick bone of its stitched up spine. The creature fell forward.
“Shit,” Adam said as he fell along with thing. They smashed into the dirt. The reanimate twisted toward Adam. It dug its long, yellow nails into his chest. They tore through the shirt and cut into his jutting collarbones.
Adam screamed as the nails pierced his skin. He grabbed onto its hands. Adam head-butted the creature as hard as he could manage. The creature’s skull collapsed. A sharp, high-pitched sound rang in Adam's ears and all went black. He slumped forward
…
Jesse continued his assault, oblivious to anything other than the reanimates closest to him. He flung the creatures around like grotesque dolls.
…
Adam snapped back into consciousness a moment later. He climbed onto weak legs. Ahead of him was a blurry mass of creatures. He was concussed and nauseated, but his instincts kicked in as the creatures approached him. Panic cleared his vision enough for him to spot Jesse through the spaces between the churning thralls. He clambered toward Jesse on rubber legs. His footfalls caught the attention of a few reanimates. Dead eyes tracked him, as he neared the crowd. He reached for a gun and machete that were not there. The broken memories reformed and Adam rec
alled that he had discarded his empty pistol. The realization sent a jolt through him that dispelled the mental fog. He threw an empty spare magazine at the creature in front of him. It bounced off of its chest, and fell useless into the dirt.
“Shit!” he yelled as he backpedaled. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I'm fucked!”
One of the things, built like an NFL linebacker, swiped at his face with a hand the size of roasted chicken. Adam ducked under the massive dead hand. He threw crazed punches and kicks at the giant like he was in a schoolyard brawl. The large creature was unfazed. It caught the sleeve of Adam’s jacket and yanked his arm toward its mouth, pulling Adam off balance. He squirmed to free his arm, but the creature was too strong. Adam jerked the zipper on his jacket downward, but it caught halfway. The creature drew him in closer. Adam could smell its graveyard cologne and putrid breath. He wormed his arm out of his jacket sleeve before the creature could jam his hand into its gaping maw. Another reanimate stumbled into Adam and brought him to the ground. The sleeve tore as they fell. The huge reanimate stuffed the torn jacket sleeve into its mouth and bit down on the fabric.
Adam hit the ground hard and lost his breath. The large creature opened its jaws and let Adam’s torn sleeve fall to the ground. Cold, awful stink filled Adam’s nostrils. He turned and right next to his face was the open mouth of someone's long-dead ancestor. He slammed the palm of his hand into the side of its head. Its neck cranked sideways from the impact. It turned back and went for his neck. He pushed his hand against its forehead to stop it from ripping the soft tissue of his neck. It pushed hard against him. Adam shoved back, but he was not able to get the ancient corpse off of him. The muscles in his arm grew hot and quaked. He shoved again, as hard as he could, but the creature stayed on him. Adam dug into the soft ground with his feet and used his legs to get more leverage. The creature reeled back enough for Adam to scramble to his feet. He raised his boot and stomped at the old thing's skull. He missed the creature’s head and his booted foot hit the ground. The forceful impact radiated pain from his foot all the way up to his knee. The fallen reanimate latched onto his boot and tried to bite him in the ankle.
The Lost Gods Page 6
