The Lost Gods

by Brickley, Horace

  Adam fell backwards. He used his other foot to kick the creature in its mummified face. Before it clamped down on his sinewy ankles, Adam jerked his leg free. The creature crawled toward Adam. He crab walked backwards until he had room to stand. Adam took a short step forward and soccer kicked the reanimate in the head. The blade of his foot collided with its skull and the old bone gave way. The undead football player staggered forward. Adam limped backward and searched for some kind of weapon. A few yards away, he spotted a rock the size of a potato. He hobbled over to it and scooped it up. Adam waited for the giant reanimate to come to him. It raised its arms and hurried its pace. When it was near enough, Adam swung the rock at its face. The blow smashed the creature’s nose, but the power of the swing sent Adam off balance. He tripped and fell into the creature. They both toppled over.

  The fall disoriented Adam. Large arms wrapped around his body and the creature worked its head toward Adam's exposed neck. Adam squirmed away from the creature’s mouth. He managed to get on top of it and straddle its wide chest. Adam brought the point of his elbow down onto the creature’s head. Its nose broke with the first strike. He hammered away and away, long after the thing stopped moving. He kept elbowing the dead thing until his shoulder ached from the strong impacts.

  Satisfied that the creature was no longer a threat, Adam scanned the mass of churning bodies for Jesse. Inside the circle of undead, Jesse was still wreaking havoc. The group around Jesse had diminished, but dozens remained. Between the brawl and Adam, motionless bodies littered the dirt. The sight of all the gore and twisted corpses turned Adam’s stomach. He stood and limped toward the scene and yelled for Jesse. Jesse did not respond. Adam, not wanting to run into the meat grinder, looked for another weapon. After a long scan, he saw the reanimate he had head-butted into oblivion. He rolled it over and found his machete was still stuck in its spine. He grabbed the handle and yanked the machete free.

  He heard rustling in the underbrush to his left. A group of reanimates emerged from the foliage: half a dozen at first. A few yards to his right, another group arrived. The rustling grew louder. He flipped around and spotted yet another, larger group, coming out of the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing.

  Adam stopped short of the border of the fight. His leg and chest throbbed in pain. He planted his feet and swung his machete at the neck of the closest reanimate. It was nude, short, and frail with Frankenstein stitch work where its organs used to be. The blunt machete did not cut through the decaying flesh and bone, but it produced a resonating twang and a sickening crack. The creature dropped to the ground and rolled toward Adam. Its eye sockets were empty. Adam shuddered at the sight.

  Another reanimate rotated around and faced Adam. Without pause, Adam brought the machete down on top of its head. Its skull split and Adam kneed the creature in the stomach. He wrenched his blade free and yelled for Jesse.

  Jesse heard him and stared at Adam. Jesse worked his way out of the crowd; dropping reanimates with single strokes of his cudgel and shoving the less-threatening creatures aside.

  “We need to get out of here! More are coming! A lot more!” Adam shouted.

  Jesse nodded, but he continued to brain the creatures with a vigor and pace that Adam could never match. Adam analyzed the carnage that Jesse had created and felt both impressed and horrified.

  “We need to go!” Adam yelled.

  …

  Jesse nodded again. He found a clear path to the tree line and pointed to it with his cudgel. Dark brown matter covered the cudgel, glistening in the fading light. Jesse and Adam made their way through the obstacle course of fallen and still-moving reanimates. A growing line of reanimates blocked the path back to Iskra.

  “Shit! Where do we go?” Adam asked.

  “I don't know,” said Jesse. He scanned the tree line. To the north was a patch of forest clear of reanimates.

  “Let's go back to the fort,” Adam said.

  “We won't make it before dark,” Jesse said.

  “We won’t make it anywhere before it gets dark.”

  “We can’t just stand here,” Jesse said. He pointed to the north.

  “That way,” Jesse said and tugged at Adam’s arm. Adam gave him a quick nod and they hustled away from the creatures.

  Countless reanimates flowed out of the forest and into the clearing. Those that were not completely dead rose or crawled from the collection of corpses that had been scattered across the dirt.

  The soft, orange hue of sunlight dimmed as the sun descended below the horizon. As the light deteriorated, the forest grew more sinister. Dread painted Jesse and Adam’s faces. Neither knew what terrors, real or imagined, lay in wait for them in the woods.

  “I think we need to keep going north,” said Jesse. “I think that's how we get back to Newberry Hill road.”

  “How far is it?”

  “I don't know. Not far.”

  The sunlight died.

  “Slow down,” said Adam.

  “We can't. They're not far behind us.”

  They stumbled around in the dark in a direction that seemed like north. A chorus of croaking frogs floated in the damp air. A slow wind blew through the pines. The branches stretched out with each gust and swooshed back when the breeze died. Jesse loved the sound of frogs, but he hated them in that moment. Their croaks masked the footfalls of their undead pursuers. Seconds stretched out for hours. The moon was in waning and its weak light barely cut through the thick leaves and needles of the dense forest. The interior of the forest was all washed-out blues and blacks. Jesse could only see a vague outline of Adam: a shadowy figure sneaking through the thick brush.

  “We should have brought flashlights,” Jesse whispered.

  “Don’t talk,” Adam whispered back.

  Twigs snapped behind them.

  “Fuck. They're coming,” whispered Adam.

  “Get down and move fast,” Jesse said.

  The two crouched down low and hastened their pace. Both men devolved to a chimpanzee's stance and hurried through the dark obstacles underfoot. Jesse noticed Adam’s awkward movement.

  “You’re hurt,” Jesse whispered. “You won't make it back to town.”

  “Like fuck I won't. Watch me.”

  “No, we've got to hole up somewhere.”

  “They'll find us.”

  “Maybe. No other option though.”

  “Fine. Lead the way. I’m lost.”

  They navigated the underbrush and thickets. Jesse squinted. He saw a large, angular mass beyond the trees.

  “House, up ahead,” Jesse said.

  “Anything could be in there.”

  “Something worse is already out here.”

  “They'll get in there soon enough.”

  “I've escaped from a house filled with them before.”

  “Fuck it. I'm too tired to argue.”

  They were facing the front entrance of a two-story house. Connected to the house was a two-car garage. The garage door was untouched. The windows to the house were not barricaded, and the front door was unscathed. Jesse kept low and sneaked to the front door. He placed his hand on the knob, and looked back at Adam for confirmation. Adam shrugged. Jesse turned the knob and his eyes went wide as it turned all the way and the door popped open.

  “It's unlocked.”

  “Maybe the owners abandoned it,” said Adam. “What's the plan?”

  “We do a quick search and then we hole up in the garage.”

  “All right, which floor do you want?”

  “I’ll take the top floor.”

  Jesse disappeared into the house.

  …

  Adam nodded. He glanced over into the distance to check if they were still being pursued. He squinted but could not make out anything. Adam went inside, closed the door, and readied his blade.

  Adam could hear Jesse throwing open doors and walking around the top floor. The entry way connected with the kitchen, the living room, the hallway to the master bedroom, and to the open stai
rcase. The house looked unmolested. It had all the signs of abandonment: spider webs hung from the furnishings and walls, and it reeked of mildewed carpet and rotten food.

  Adam entered the kitchen, and set his bag on the marble countertop. He unzipped his pack and made some space by pushing down on his spare clothes. A faint glare of moonlight reflected off the marble counter. The glint of brushed steel caught Adam’s attention. A knife block sat next to a deep stainless steel sink. Adam pulled a kitchen knife out of the block and examined the edge. It was serrated and sharp. He gripped it and swung it around a few times to test how it felt. Pleased by the weight, he slid it into his belt and left the machete on the counter. Adam covered his mouth and nose and opened the large refrigerator. No light came on and a wave of stale air and toxic fumes crept out of it. Rotten fruit, meat, and cheese littered the shelves, but Adam checked a few packaged goods to see if they still looked edible. Unconvinced, he sniffed them. Adam gagged and his abs clenched in a spasm. He coughed and tossed the food back onto the lowest shelf. After pilfering all of the cupboards in the kitchen, Adam jammed all the canned food into his bag. He zipped up his bag, shouldered it, and went into the living room.

  The house was quiet. He could no longer hear Jesse’s heavy footsteps. Adam went upstairs, knife in hand. There were three rooms upstairs: a bathroom and two bedrooms. Posters that Adam could not make out adorned the walls of the first bedroom. A trunk full of toys sat at the foot of the bed, and a small desk and chair were near the window. Jesse was standing against the far wall, leaning over a child's bed. He had found a flashlight and a white beam of light drew a circle around a small boy that was tucked into the small bed. The boy's eyes were closed and his eyelids sunken. A waxy substance had formed around his cheekbones and neck.

  “Have you checked the other rooms?” Adam asked.

  “We're not going to find anyone alive,” said Jesse.

  “Of course not, but I'm not worried about the living.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “You know what happened,” said Jesse, “We shouldn't talk so much. They might hear.”

  Adam and Jesse checked the bathroom and the other bedroom together. Inside the bathroom was some soap, which they took. The second bedroom was a mirror image of the first, and another small boy lay decaying and tucked into his sheets. They returned downstairs and checked the master bedroom. The room was elegant. The bed was custom-carved with rich cherry wood, and had a thick mattress covered in patterned silk sheets. A corpse with long hair lay under the comforter. She too had the waxy substance on her cheekbones and shared the same sunken features as her sons upstairs.

  ...

  Jesse checked the drawers, his hands groping for anything heavy. His fingers kept landing on precious metals and glinting stones and diamonds: useless baubles. This well-off family met the same end as their landscaper and the transients in the county. They were just as dead, but with more stuff surrounding them in their modern tomb, as if they were 21st century pharaohs.

  ...

  Adam checked the master bathroom. He saw the outlines of a human figure in a large mirror mounted on the door and jumped. He nearly cut his finger when he drew the knife out of his belt. Through the shower door, the outline of a man was visible. Adam tapped on the glass a few times and waited. After a few seconds, there was still no movement from within the shower, so he opened the door. A desiccated corpse was hanging from the shower nozzle, naked except for a belt cinched tight around man's neck. Adam exhaled and left the bathroom.

  ...

  “All dead,” he said to Jesse. Jesse shrugged and shook his head. Some had fought, most tried to run, but the fatalists killed themselves and their families.

  “Maybe they were the smart ones,” Adam said.

  “Let's go to the garage,” Jesse said as he walked out of the master bedroom. To the right of the guest bathroom was a hallway leading through a pantry and into the garage. The door was unlocked. The garage was cold and smelled of old paint from half-empty cans and damp, stale air. A large SUV took up half of the garage and boxes filled the other half. Jesse searched for something useful, but all he saw was a bunch of boxes of fine china and records, trash bags, brooms, and a ladder. In his head, he ran through mock fights with reanimates. He saw brooms snapping in half and him trying to swing a ladder at a group of walking corpses with outstretched arms. If he were in a lighter mood he would have laughed at that thought, but he was tired and they were coming. He took in a deep breath and tilted his head back. A string hung down from the ceiling. He pulled on it and the staircase to the attic descended.

  Jesse motioned to Adam.

  “The safest bet is sleeping in the attic,” Jesse whispered in Adam's ear. “We can't barricade the house in time. There are too many ways to get in. We've got to sleep up there where they can't get to us.”

  Adam nodded and Jesse unfolded the ladder and climbed up into the darkness.

  “Be careful,” Jesse whispered, “Only step on the beams or you’ll fall through.”

  Adam climbed up, pulled the ladder up, and folded it inward. Plywood boards lay across the beams. Jesse sprawled out on one of the boards and lay face down. Adam stretched out on the board next to him. Sleep came fast.

  …

  Jesse was alone in a grassy field. The noon sun was beating on his bare skin. Sweat dotted his arms and upper body. He touched his chest and drew back two glistening fingers. It was real. He could feel everything, and he reeked like he had just finished wrestling practice. His beard was thick and the coarse hairs itched. Strands of his dark, oily hair sat matted and tangled on his brow and ears. It had been months since he had bothered to shave or cut his hair. Bathing in Dyes Inlet was out of the question. The water was cold and murky and those things could walk on the sea floor.

  He felt encumbered; his pack was bulging with supplies and the weight was almost too much to bear. He felt hot breath on his neck. He smelled sandalwood and lavender. Her scent filled his nostrils, and it ignited primal feelings. Desire coursed through him and his entire body tingled and shook.

  “Who are you?”

  “I answer to no man.”

  “Please, tell me who you are.”

  “You will know me in time.”

  “What are you? How is this possible?”

  She ran her fingers down his chest. He could see her amber skin and her long, manicured nails. Her wrist was adorned with bronze bracelets with large opal stones.

  “I am the queen of heaven and earth.”

  “What?”

  “We have no time. Answer me this: do you want to die?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want mankind to die? To be ground into the earth and stricken from memory?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I'd rather live.”

  “What about the people and all the strife they have caused? Do you wish to see that come to an end?”

  She stroked his chin with her hand. The skin on her hands was not soft. It had texture to it. These were hands that had done work at some point. What kind of work, Jesse did not know. He tried to turn his head toward her, but she grabbed his jaw hard and held him in place.

  “Why should any of you live?” she asked.

  “People have done a lot of things. Good and bad. I can’t defend humanity as a whole, but there are good people.”

  “Do you wish to save them?”

  “Save who? Is there anyone left to save?”

  “Some.”

  “Then, yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am a person.”

  “So, if you were a dog, then you would try to save all the dogs if they were in danger?”

  “I don't know — I've never been a dog.”

  She released his jaw and slid her hands down his spine. A warm tingle went up his back and sent goose bumps all over his skin.

  “Do you want me?”

  He did not know this
woman, or whatever she was, but he desired her on a primal level. He wanted her with a passion that he never felt back when things were normal. No sorority girl had ever made him feel the way this self-styled queen did.

  “Yes.”

  “Then —,” she whispered into his ear, her hot breath warming the side of his face, “fight.”

  Five

  Fight

  Jesse woke amid what felt like an earthquake. The walls were shaking and loud thumps rattled the attic. The attic was still dark. Jesse had no idea how much time had passed.

  “They're going to tear this fucker down!” shouted Adam over the cacophony of thudding fists and splintering wood.

  “I know. I'm just thinking about how we can get out of here.”

  No light came into the attic and there were no windows or vents. They were trapped.

  “They're gonna be right under us soon, if they aren't already,” said Adam.

  A car window smashed below them.

  “Too late,” said Adam.

  “Relax, they can’t get up here,” Jesse said. He stood up as high as he could and felt along the ceiling. He knocked his fist against the boards between the rafters.

  “I think we can find a weak spot,” Jesse said. He pounded against the boards, but they were sturdy. He cursed the good craftsmanship of the house. Jesse thrashed boxes and plastic tubs aside as he made his way to the other end of the attic. He ran his hand over a few slanted sheets of plywood and struck them with the side of his fist.

  “I need your help. Come over here,” he yelled to Adam.

  Adam took a few steps in Jesse's direction, but his foot slipped off one of the joists and broke through the drywall. He screamed and flailed as he lost balance. Jesse’s strong hands grasped under his armpits and pulled him up like a child. Neither man said anything, but Adam’s face flushed red. Adam dusted himself off and rubbed his hurt ankle. Jesse lowered himself across two joists. He turned and faced toward the diagonal slant of the low roof and curled his knees into his chest. He gripped the joists for support and kicked the nearest roofing sheet with both feet. The roof shook, but the plywood sheet held. Again, Jesse kicked. The wood rattled but held. Adam ignored the pain in his ankle, got down with Jesse on the joists, and started kicking the roofing. Adam found Jesse's rhythm and they kicked once together, again, and once more before the nails came loose and a shaft of daylight shot through the small space.