“Have you heard any strange screams?”
No one spoke for a moment.
“Is that a fucking threat?” asked the tall man. He raised his broadsword again.
“No, not from me anyways. My friend Adam was killed by these screaming things. I fought a couple of them too. They weren't like the others. They scream, and when they do, it's like nothing else. It's loud and it's like something from a horror story. We ran into a few and managed to kill them, but there were more of them. They can fight and they're strong. They're dressed strange too.”
“I don't know anything about screaming ghouls,” said the tall man. “We can handle ourselves. Now get on your way before I forget my cordial nature.”
“Just consider it a heads-up then,” said Jesse.
The men did not respond. They remained in place as Jesse put on his pack and zipped up his jacket. Jesse held eye contact with the large man while he prepared himself.
“If you change your mind about wanting to talk, I'll be in that small white building a few miles down 101 South. Just make sure to call out before you try to come in,” said Jesse. “I'm going to go into Eureka to find some food. Am I walking into a death trap?”
“Shouldn't be, we cleared it out a while back,” said the archer.
“OK. I hope you all change your mind,” said Jesse. He turned around and walked away. The archer and the one with the shield stepped aside to let him through. Jesse could hear them arguing with each other as he crossed the field.
The winter sun hung low in the sky, but it still dried Jesse's clothes. He walked stiff-legged into outskirts of Eureka. The grass on both sides of the highway had grown tall; the landscapers long dead. After a mile of walking, Jesse's legs loosened up a bit. Those months of sitting inside the kayak had weakened his legs, but his arms and shoulders were stronger than ever.
He scanned left and right, looking for signs of life or walking death. He saw neither. Instead, there was a vibrant ecosystem growing. A hundred billion dead humans were better for the environment than seven billion living ones. The trees and bushes had overtaken the landscape. The air was clear and smelled fresh. Cars, trucks, and motorcycles sat rusting on the deteriorating black belts of highway. The world of Jesse's ancestors was dead, but nature was flourishing in the absence of his countrymen. In a handful of months, the concepts of nation, patriotism, the American dream, and capitalism were all rendered meaningless. He was just a solitary human walking up a highway into uncertainty.
Jesse felt at ease with that reality albeit not with his circumstance. The burden of chasing happiness and economic security in the modern world had been lifted. It had been replaced by the burden of actual survival: ancient and pure. A task his human ancestors had shared for tens of thousands of years before the competition between individuals became paramount. As he walked up that highway, he was free. Free from the stress of monotony. Free from the pressure to build a family or a business. Free from trying to keep his family, or Adam, alive in a world inhabited by constant danger. He was free to kill or be killed without judgment or constraint. He could open his arteries and die on the highway without failing anyone: except for her.
She was expecting him in San Diego that much he knew. His freedom vanished as quickly as it came. His mind tried to jump to another thought, for whenever he thought or dreamt about her a jolt of primal energy throbbed in his loins and heart. A mad rush of lust coursed through his veins and muscles. He felt like he was in heat and ready to charge into battle all at once: simultaneously virile and dangerous.
He shifted the straps on his shoulders, adjusted himself, and quickened his pace into Eureka proper.
The sun was ascending to its zenith as Jesse entered Eureka. On his left was a car dealership advertising last year's models for all eternity. Those sleek and delicate cars did not fit the needs of a post-apocalyptic nomad. A few hundred yards ahead on his right was a large department store. Jesse smiled. He was happy that he would not need to go into another dead town and again witness the leavings of the scourge.
He stepped off the highway and headed into the large parking lot. A few abandoned cars sat decaying and gathering dirt and leaves like relics of a bygone era. Jesse spotted a thin frame ambling near the storefront. The sun was in his eyes and he could not focus on the creature. He readied his weapons. He lost sight of it, so Jesse hollered. It turned toward him, slow and steady. That was all the information he needed. He cocked his elbows and held his weapons up in a boxer's stance: the hammer pointing up, the screwdriver down. It moved at a lethargic pace like a fat kid swimming in molasses. Its arms were hanging at its sides and its mouth gaping. It stared at Jesse with soupy eyes, but it only shifted and swayed like a tree in a gentle breeze. Jesse got within an arm's reach. The creature's head tilted back.
Confused, Jesse circled around the creature. It followed him with its eyes at first, but when he exited its line of sight, the creature turned its neck at a turtle's pace. It took several seconds for it to turn its head a few inches. Jesse waited behind its left shoulder until the creature was able to make eye contact again. He saw its hands twitch. It lifted its arms only an inch before its muscles failed and its spindly limbs went slack. It slid a lame foot forward and leaned close to Jesse.
He drove his screwdriver into the space between the creature's right eye and the bridge of its nose. The creature collapsed in a tangled heap of emaciated limbs. Jesse pulled out the screwdriver and cleaned it off with his jacket sleeve.
All manner of debris lay cluttered in front of the busted automatic doors of the supermarket. It was clear that someone failed to barricade the entrance and hole-up inside. Jesse crouched and worked through the debris. He checked both sides of the entrance before he rose to a normal posture.
The store was dark. The fluorescent lights that used to give the store a bright and welcoming appearance had sucked out the last bits of power months ago. Jesse pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on. A white light shot across the cash registers: their drawers still filled with useless paper money and cumbersome change. Jesse remembered a cold night when he and Adam had burned thousands of dollars to keep warm. His father had argued against a similar idea months prior. He had objected, stating that, ‘Everything would be OK again soon,’ and, ‘Never bet against the American dollar.’ Jesse had sat smiling in front of the fire taking some pleasure in the fact that he would never have to pay another student loan bill or give his landlord another huge chunk of his monthly income. He shook away the memory.
Jesse felt a mixture of sadness and amusement at the items in the store: magazines decrying the immorality and lavish lifestyles of the now-probably-dead Hollywood stars, the TV guide explaining the programming of nearly a thousand extinct channels, low-calorie breath mints, lawn mowers, GPS systems, video games, 3D LCD televisions half the size of a normal wall, exercise balls for toning the core, and a hundred other things that he and the other remaining humans had no use for any longer. Jesse searched the shelves and grabbed a few packs of watch batteries, floss, and what little food he could find. He found clothes that fit. He peeled off his rancid attire and put on a new shirt, pants, socks, and a jacket. After months of reeking like a rotten fish market, he now smelled like a run-of-the-mill homeless person: a drastic improvement. He packed away his new supplies in his hiking pack and headed for the beverages section. On the highest shelf, he found a single jug of charcoal-filtered vodka.
“Wow, the good stuff,” he said with a sarcastic tone. On the label, it said World's Finest Vodka. “But, they only gave themselves three stars.”
He almost dropped the vodka when he saw a flicker of movement in one of the security mirrors. He backed up against the empty shelves and listened. The creature turned into Jesse's aisle and staggered forward at a fast gait. Jesse waited for creature to near him and delivered a powerful kick to its abdomen. It buckled over and fell into a refrigerator door, breaking the thin pane of glass. Jesse closed in ready to destroy the hapless creature. Several pops e
choed and a putrescent stench filled the air. Curdled milk and watery yogurt spilled out of the broken containers as the creature squirmed around trying to get back to its feet. Jesse began to wretch and backpedaled. He hunched over and jogged away from the awful stench. The creature rose, dotted with rotten white lumps and smeared in yellowish goo. Jesse covered his mouth and swung his hammer at its temple. The strike landed flush with a crack, and the vile thing fell onto the slick floor.
Jesse checked the sporting goods aisle. The shelves were empty of anything useful. He noticed several T-Ball kits and a wave of sadness struck him. Are there any children left? Is there a future? He shook the thoughts away and kept searching.
Looters had emptied the store with few exceptions. The locks on the plexiglass case housing guns hung broken. All the knives, watches, flashlights, bats, golf clubs, axes, and anything with a sharp point had been taken and likely used to combat the hordes of reanimates.
Jesse exited the store. The harsh glare of the sun forced him to squint. He scanned the parking lot again. No new figures haunted about the cars and trucks. Not wanting to venture further into unknown territory, Jesse crossed the parking lot again and headed south on the highway. As he walked, he felt the immensity of America and the world. He did not feel so alone in Washington because of his proximity to Adam, and also the hope that his countrymen had fared better in the war with the undead. Now that he was hundreds of miles south of his small hometown, he was fully coming to terms with the situation. The humans had lost, and even the animals and reanimates were scarce at this point — or so it seemed to Jesse.
Those strange castle dwellers wanted nothing to do with him. He was alone with little more than a vision of a strange woman to keep him company. Is she even real? He did not know the answer, but he knew the way to find out. His long strides slowed to a stop. Jesse stood in the middle of the empty highway. Ahead, the wide, black strip of asphalt stretched beyond the end of sight. Tears came and he did not try to fight them. There was no one left to impress. There was no need to posture and appear manly. Turbulent emotions overcame him, and he doubted the whole journey. He questioned his actions, and cursed his inability to save Adam. Jesse let his pack drop on the ground and he dropped down on the highway. He hammered his fist onto the asphalt and let out his pain.
Jesse envied Moses, and the prophets and characters of the Hebrew Bible, for in their times of doubt and conflict, messages from heaven were forthcoming. No clear messages came to Jesse: just the demands of a mysterious woman and the threats of another.
What if I make it all the way to San Diego and she's not there? What if I'm crazy and this is just delaying the inevitable? What if she is there and it doesn't matter? What if... what's the fucking point?
His mind swirled in a fury. He carried on a monologue that no one heard until the afternoon light faded to dusk. The darkening sky forced him to get up off the asphalt. No matter how seasoned a survivalist he was, the night was full of dangers. Jesse stood and shouldered his pack, not because he had answered his questions and not because he was sure of his quest and the way forward. He carried on because it was what he had to do. In his mind, there was no other option. His nature compelled him forward even in times of doubt. That was why she chose him.
He had feared the dark, the unknown, since he was a child. When he walked at night, men that were not there stalked him. They hid in his peripheral vision. Witches and crones waited behind closed doors and in mirrors. Monsters hid in closets, under beds, and outside windows. Now that the world was full of real monsters and death, Jesse's fear of the dark was an asset. It put him on edge, and it made him see possibilities in the night. What's behind that tree? What was that noise? The child in him, the fear in him, always had an answer to those questions: danger. Danger is behind that tree and death made that noise.
Jesse would be afraid wherever he was, so it was best to stay mobile and be vigilant. He was a mile from the castle and another from his temporary shelter. His legs ached and blisters had formed on his heels. A chorus of cruel, nightmarish screams radiated out of the foliage to the east. A shudder of fear and adrenaline coursed through Jesse's body and mind. The flight or fight response tipped immediately toward flight. Jesse tilted into a fast run.
More screams cut through the sound of his heavy footfalls and strained breathing. His clothes rustled as his limbs pumped and swung in a wild rhythm. A slow, strong burn radiated through his thighs and calves. Sputum built up in his mouth. Steady, measured breaths gave way to quick, short pants. His abdominal muscles tensed and sweat leaked out of his pores. He kept his vision trained ahead of him. To look back was to die. He ran as fast as he could manage. Another scream flew over his head like a bird carrying bad news.
Jesse slowed for a moment to navigate the ditch and fence bordering the highway. After clearing the fence, Jesse dared to look over his shoulder. He saw the outlines of three things charging down the highway — they were coming for him.
As he turned and tried to sprint, his abdominal muscles cramped. He hunched over, clutching his stomach, and hobbled onward to the castle. Another inhuman shriek spurred Jesse's movement, and he stood up as straight as he could and worked forward in a painful, awkward jog. One of the creatures let out a scream as it tripped on the fence and smashed into the ground. Jesse looked back. The creature rose to its feet unfazed and sprinted.
The castle was near. Jesse tried to yell, but his tired lungs muted his exclamation. He dropped his pack in the grass and threw himself into an uncontrolled sprint. He raised his arms and tried to yell again. Above him was the outline of a man on the wall. Jesse could smell wood smoke. He waved at the man, and as he did, an arrow sunk into the ground in front of him. Jesse slowed his run and picked up the arrow. One of the creatures tackled him. Jesse smashed into the ground face first, and the concussive force rocked him into unconsciousness.
Eight
Creative Anachronism
Jesse snapped out of the darkness. The limp corpse of the creature slid off his back as Jesse rolled over. An arrow had pierced the back of its skull and poked out of its right nostril. Still dazed, Jesse had no time to react as the second creature raked its fingers across his cheek and nose like a feral cat. Instinctively, Jesse locked up with the creature and swept its legs out from under it. He brought it down hard and shifted his weight on top of its chest. The thing squirmed with all its might, but the ground was Jesse's domain. It was helpless in his grasp. Jesse pushed his forearm under its jaw and reached for his screwdriver with his free hand. The creature battered Jesse's face and arm, but he pushed all his weight onto its neck and chest making it impossible for the creature to rise. Shouting echoed out from the portals in the keep. A scream came from behind Jesse. Jesse turned and saw the third creature standing a yard away. Two arrows were sticking out of its torso. A third arrow sailed through the still air and stuck into the creature's shoulder. When the creature charged Jesse, the arrow fell carrying a chunk of bluish flesh. Jesse rolled away from the downed creature and rose on wobbly feet. Jesse fumbled for the screwdriver while trying to maintain his balance, but vertigo overwhelmed him and he fell hard on his ass. The incoming creature hopped over its fallen comrade and charged Jesse. He grabbed the thing under its armpits, tucked and rolled backwards, and brought his knees up to his chest. Jesse used the creature's momentum to launch it over him. It flew through the air and crashed onto the ground a few yards away. Jesse tried to finish the roll and stand up, but he just flopped backwards like a drunk. In his disorientated state, Jesse had rolled into the creature. It squirmed and clutched onto Jesse from the side. Jesse's ears pulsed with pain as the creature screamed. The sounds of the world turned submarine for a time and a loud high-pitched ringing replaced all other noises. All Jesse could manage to do to defend himself in that moment was to grab onto the creature's wrists as it tried to skin his face. It leaned in and bit down on his neck, but the fabric of his jacket was too thick to bite through.
“Push it off you!” a man
yelled from nearby. He was yelling loud enough to cut through the din in Jesse's ear. “God damn it! Push it off you!”
Jesse let go of the creature's wrists and shoved the creature off his chest. A sword drove through the creature's jugular notch. No blood flowed out of the wound, but the creature went limp at once. It slumped to the ground with the sword still buried in its neck. Jesse lay there exhausted. A second man, armed with a mace and a shield, rushed over to the other creature as it struggled to its feet. He caught it with an upswing. The creature's legs crumpled and it collapsed. The mace-wielding man bludgeoned the fallen thing until it ceased to twitch.
“It's done,” said the first man. He looked over to his friend. “Stop it already.”
His friend kept swinging away at the lifeless thing.
“Die you fuck!” yelled the second man.
“It's died twice already,” said the first man. “Give it up. You're just making yourself tired.”
The second man stood up, sucking in labored breaths. He exhaled and nodded. He shook the chunks of bluish skin and dark gore off his mace.
The first man held out his hand. Jesse waved it off and sat up.
“Next time you bring some friends, tell us first,” said the first man.
“Yeah,” said the second. “Some beers would have been appreciated too.”
“Not to mention women,” said the first. He pulled his broadsword out of the creature's neck.
“Don't let Danielle hear you say that,” said the one with the mace.
“I can dream can't I?” said the first. “You going to sit there all night?”
“Sorry,” said Jesse. He rose and dusted himself off. “I'm trying to get my bearings. I was out for a second there.”
“Is that your excuse for your poor performance in that fight?”
Jesse laughed and said, “That and the two mile run prior to getting my ass kicked.”
The Lost Gods Page 11
