by Edward Crae
The pastor pursed his lips, looking up at Dan with those sad eyes. “They have lost their way,” he said. “I don’t know who they are anymore. I don’t know anything anymore.”
“What happened to the children?” Drew asked.
The pastor turned to him. “The same thing that happened to everyone,” he said. “They got infected.”
“Why weren’t they killed?” Dan asked.
The pastor shook his head. “They should have been,” he said. “But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. They’re children, after all.”
Dan sighed, staring up at the cross. “Not anymore,” he said. “You know that.”
The pastor nodded, and Dan could hear him swallow hard. He turned toward the pews, and motioned for them to relax. “Please, sit down,” he said. “This is a house of the Lord. All are welcome here.”
Dan looked at Drew, who shrugged. “I don’t think we would be welcome here,” he said.
“Sit,” the pastor repeated. “As I said, all are welcome here.”
Dan shrugged, reluctantly sitting at the front pew. Drew sat beside him, and the pastor sat down in front of the podium, gripping his Bible in shaking hands.
“The men outside,” Dan began, “they took our weapons and locked us in here. We need to get out and get our shi—stuff before they take everything.”
“It’s pointless,” the pastor said. “It’s all pointless now.”
“Nothing is pointless,” Drew said. “It’s all just survival now.”
The pastor looked up at him. “The world is gone,” he said. “We have all been left behind. The tribulations have begun, and this is but the first.”
“The first?” Dan repeated.
The pastor nodded. “The comet… the star. It was named Wormwood for a reason. A third of mankind was killed as it passed by, and the rest of us have fallen in large numbers. Either we die trying to survive, or have become something other than human.”
“It’s gone now,” Dan said.
The pastor shook his head. “No,” he said. “It will return for the second tribulation. It will fall from the sky, carrying with it the key to the Abyss. When that happens, the locusts—the dead—will overrun the Earth. Men will seek death, but will not find it.”
“The Earth is already overrun with the dead,” Drew said.
“No!” the pastor shouted, standing up menacingly. “They are not dead. Billions of people died in the first day. Those are the dead. What we see roaming the Earth now are the two hundred million horsemen. The dead have yet to rise. But they will.”
What the hell was this guy talking about? Surely all of the shufflers, shamblers, and other crazy shit he’d seen so far were at least like the dead. But if what this insane bastard was saying was true, then everything they had gone through was just a glimpse.
“Dead people won’t rise from the grave,” Dan said. “They’re dead. The virus, or whatever the hell it is, killed them.”
“You haven’t been paying attention,” the pastor said. “If you’ve seen them, then you know that they have not decomposed as much as they should have in the time that has passed.”
“I suppose not,” Dan said, looking to Drew, who seemed to agree. “But it’s cold.”
“Even in the cold, flesh decomposes,” the pastor reminded him. “And the animals—the scavengers—should have eaten them all by now. But they haven’t, have they?”
Dan stared at him, speechless. He was right. Though a few of the dead he had seen showed some chew marks, the only ones that seem to have been eaten to any major degree had been consumed by the shamblers. He didn’t remember ever seeing any scavenging animals chewing on their flesh.
“You know I’m right,” the pastor said.
Dan nodded half-heartedly. “Yeah, but there are other things. What about the other mutants; the people and animals that have changed.”
The pastor shook his head. “They are all dying,” he said. “They weren’t meant to survive. They were only meant to destroy for a short time.”
Dan remembered the dead stalker-thing they saw before. “Right,” he whispered.
“We are in the last days,” the pastor said. “The human race will fall, and the Earth will belong to Satan.”
Dan wanted to remind him that this was not exactly what scripture said, but decided against it. What was happening was a worldwide plague; something probably natural, but not of this world. This guy was just seeing parallels with scripture where none really existed.
“Listen,” Dan said. “We need to get out of here. If you help us escape, we’ll take you with us.”
Drew’s eyes widened a bit, he saw. But he remained silent.
“I can’t leave,” the pastor said.
“Yes you can,” Dan whispered. “You can come with us, and we’ll help you survive. We’ve survived this long.”
“So have I,” the pastor said. “I’ve been eating scraps, canned foods, everything I can find. That’s the way it will be until I finally starve, or until the Lord sees fit to call me home.”
Dan sighed. It was probably pointless trying to talk the pastor into leaving. He wouldn’t be of much use anyway. The guy probably couldn’t—or wouldn’t—shoot, likely had no survival skills, and was a little crazy. But, he was human. Maybe a little humanization would work.
“My name is Dan,” he said finally. “This is Drew.”
The pastor looked at each of them in turn, his face remaining expressionless. He lowered his head, clasping his hands in front of him. “My name is Andy,” he said. “My friends call me Pastor Andy.”
“Well, Pastor Andy,” Dan said. “Come with us. We need your help to find our Hummer. We have lots of guns and ammo, beer, and other shit. Do you like beer?”
Andy laughed quietly. “I used to,” he said. “Before I devoted my life to God.”
“How about wine?” Drew said. “We have wine, too. Lots of wine.”
“I have to stay,” Andy said again. “These people have lost their way. Maybe I can save them before it’s too late.”
Dan nodded, looking at Drew, who seemed relieved. “The leader said they would take our Hummer to the garage. Can you tell me where that is?”
Andy nodded, standing up and moving toward the front of the chapel. He bent down, flipping the corner of a rug over, revealing a small trap door. “This part of the building is a new edition,” he said. “It’s just a crawlspace underneath. There are a few panels in the front of the building that are loose. You can get out that way. Once you’re out, head down the alley you see to the right. When you hit 1st street, turn left, and then go about a block. The garage is on the right. You can’t miss it.”
He opened the trap door, revealing the dark space beneath. “Don’t worry,” he said. “The spiders won’t bother you. Watch out for the rats, though.”
Dan dropped down into the hole, peering into the darkness. There was very little light coming in from the outside; only the faint glow of the moon that had risen while they were wasting time with Father Nutjob. Drew dropped down beside him, and Dan looked up into Andy’s saddened face.
“Thanks, man,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will,” Andy replied. “And remember, even though all these monsters were once human, they aren’t anymore. Don’t feel guilty about killing them. Even the harmless ones are dangerous in their own way. Kill them all. The Earth must be cleansed before our Savior returns.”
Dan pursed his lips, nodding. “Thanks.”
Andy closed the trap door behind them, leaving them in the darkness. Ahead, the loose panel was obvious; slightly crooked with moonlight streaming through on two sides. They headed directly toward it, stumbling blindly through the dank crawlspace.
“Man,” Drew whispered. “Was that guy nutso or what?”
Chapter Five
The panel slid off easily, tipping outward and flopping onto the grass. Dan looked out, turning left and right. In the distance he heard the sound of gunfire. Lots of it. Som
ething was happening.
“Let’s go,” he said, crawling out.
The alley was right where Andy said it was. It was long and slightly curved, but only about four feet wide. It was very uncomfortable looking. Nevertheless, they dashed toward it, keeping low and sticking close to the church. They crossed the small parking lot, stopping at the entrance to the alley and looking behind them.
The sounds of gunfire were growing louder, and among the shots were screams and groans.
“There must be a fucking horde or something,” Drew said. “I wonder where it came from.”
“I don’t know,” Dan said. “But it might be good news for us. It’ll keep them distracted while we steal back our shit.”
They crept down the alley, keeping their eyes on the road ahead. Though dark, the street showed some movement; slow, shuffling movement. Dan stopped, motioning for Drew to look ahead.
“Shufflers or something,” Dan said.
“As long as we stay quiet, they won’t notice us,” Drew replied.
Dan looked at their weapons. He still had the fence post. Drew still had his rebar and silenced Glock. He wondered if they could make it if they had to burst through the horde.
“Still,” he said. “We may have to detour. We’ll go ahead one more block then turn left. Otherwise, we’ll be running right along with the dummies.”
More gunshots erupted nearby as several gunmen apparently took up defensive positions in the horde’s path. The creatures quickened their pace, moaning and growling in greater ferocity as they charged forth. As Dan and Drew crept forward a few more paces, a shambler came into view at the end of the alley. It stopped, sniffed the air in their direction, and then began stumbling into the entrance.
“Fuck,” Drew whispered. “We’ll make too much noise killing it.”
“Use the Glock if you need to,” Dan said.
Drew nodded, pulling the Glock from his pants. “I only have a few rounds left,” he said, raising the pistol.
The shambler came forward a few more steps, and then stopped facing them. Its face curled up into a scowl and its rotting maw opened as it hissed. It saw them. Drew aimed and fired. The pistol barely made a sound, and the round struck the shambler right in the forehead. It fell with a groan and twitched for a moment. Dan and Drew held their breath. Ahead, a few shufflers stopped and turned in their direction, their heads lolling around as they attempted to figure out what was going on.
“Fuck them,” Drew said, stuffing the Glock back in his pants. He took up his rebar and ran forward.
“Fuck,” Dan cursed, following him close, poising the fence post to strike.
They burst onto the street among the horde. Dan swung his weapon at the nearest shuffler, chopping the top of its head off. Drew rammed his rebar into another, impaling it through the eye. The gunshots continued, and Dan could sense shufflers dropping all around him, and feel the wind from passing bullets.
They reached the alley on the opposite side of the street, ducking into the shadows. But several shufflers followed them, their clawed hands reaching out to grab them.
“Keep going,” Dan said, pushing Drew ahead.
They barreled down the darkened alley, knocking over garbage cans and other large items. When they reached the other end, they stopped, looking to see if the street was clear.
“Let’s go,” Dan said, satisfied.
They turned left, keeping their eyes to the block on their left side, looking for anything that resembled a garage. When they neared the end of the block, the desperate yelling of a man caught their attention. There, to their right, a group of shufflers surrounded a tree where a man was tied. He kicked out with his legs, knocking the creatures back. But still they came, clawing their way toward him. Dan felt the need to help him. He obviously wasn’t one of the idiots who threw them in the church. They seemed like bigots, and this guy was black.
“Son of a bitch,” Dan said.
“Let’s go,” Drew said, charging toward the trapped man.
They took down the shufflers with a few strikes, splitting their skulls and stomping them into the ground. The black man stood there, breathless, relieved that someone had come to his rescue.
“Cut me loose,” he said. “There’s a buck knife in my right boot.”
Dan dropped his fence post, feeling the man’s ankle. The knife was right where he said it was. He pulled it out, and went around back to cut the man’s bonds. He handed the knife back, clapping the man on the back.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
The man nodded, leaning down to catch his breath. “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks man. I thought I was done for.”
“We need to find the garage,” Dan said. “These good old boys locked our shit in there when they stopped us.”
“You too, huh?” the man said. “At least they didn’t tie you to a damn tree.”
“We got worse,” Drew said. “What’s your name?”
“Cliff,” the man said.
Dan and Drew introduced themselves, continuing on toward the left.
“The garage is this way,” Cliff said. “That’s where I was when they caught me. I was just looking for supplies for my group.”
Dan shot Drew a look. “You have a group?” he asked.
Cliff nodded. “Near Columbus,” he said. “We’re holed up in an old impound lot.”
“An impound lot?” Dan asked. “Is it secure?”
“Mostly,” Cliff said. “It’s fenced in, with barbed wire and shit. There are a few deer stands we use for guard towers, and there are sheds there that we hauled in. Everybody stays in those.”
Sounds alright, Dan thought. Better than riding around in a Hummer, wandering aimlessly. Maybe it was time to join a group anyway. They would be more likely to survive, he supposed. Although, the two of them had done a pretty good fucking job so far on their own.
“Here it is,” Cliff said. “I take it that was your Hummer in there.”
“Yeah,” Dan said, scoping out the garage.
“What do you got in there?” Cliff asked.
“Guns, ammo, drugs, canned food, beer, water.”
“Shit,” Cliff said. “Get me back to my camp and I bet you can stay. I’ll talk them into it. That’s all shit we can use, and we definitely need more testosterone. It’s a goddamn clam fest there.”
Dan chuckled as they crouched down behind the garage. There was a small gravel parking lot ahead of them, large enough to hold two or three trucks. The back entrance to the building was open, and a dim light cast moving shadows on the inside. There were people in there, Dan realized, evidently not very comfortable with what was going on outside.
“I wonder if they’re armed,” Dan said.
“They were last time I checked,” Cliff replied. “But as I remember, there were only three of them. We could probably take them out if we do it right.”
“What kind of door is in the front?” Drew asked.
“Big aluminum door,” Cliff said. “It’s probably locked, but I bet a Hummer could smash right through it. Rip it off the damn track, no problem.”
“As long as the keys are still in it,” Dan said.
Drew snickered, holding up a jingling set of keys. “I always keep spares,” he said.
Dan grinned, readying his fence post. Drew pulled out the Glock, checking the magazine. “Three rounds left,” he said. “One for each of them if Cliff’s right.”
They crept through the hedges that separated the alley from the parking lot. Around them, the sounds of gunshots and screaming infected echoed menacingly. When Dan reached the door, he crouched to the side, looking in. There were three men inside, fiddling with the contents of the Hummer. They had some of the rifles out, nervously aiming them at the front garage door, fidgeting, and bouncing in anticipation. Strangely, none of them seemed to give a shit that the back door was open.
Cliff drew his knife, moving behind Dan. Drew held the Glock at the ready, waiting for Dan’s signal. The men in the garage began movin
g toward the large front door, listening to the chaotic mess outside. Dan nodded, creeping into the room behind the Hummer. The others followed.
Without hesitation, Dan raised his weapon and chopped down at the nearest man’s head. It impacted with a thunk, and his victim groaned briefly before collapsing into a bloody pile. Drew fired a single shot at the man closest to him, putting a 9mm round right in his forehead. As the final man turned in shock, Cliff pushed him against the garage door, clamping his mouth closed with his hand and driving the knife into his gut, twisting it with gritted teeth until his victim slid down the door.
“Alright,” Dan said. “Drew, you drive.”
Dan and Cliff gathered the weapons that had been removed and closed them up in the cargo area. Drew hopped into the driver’s seat, and waited for them to pile into the back seat. Dan had grabbed an M4 and handed Cliff another. Drew started the engine, putting it in gear and waiting for Dan’s nod.
The Hummer tore through the cheap garage door with a deafening bang. They plowed into the horde of shufflers outside, crushing several of them under the tires. Shockingly, the street was full of them.
“Jesus Christ!” Cliff said. “It’s a fucking herd or something.”
“Go!” Dan said.
Drew squealed the tires, plowing into more shufflers and a shambler or two. There were gunmen further down, who fired shots before dodging out of the way. Dan and Cliff stood up through the sunroof, taking aim at Mason’s men as they scrambled to fend off the undead.
“Go south on 37!” Cliff shouted to Drew.
A Stalker appeared out of nowhere, landing on the hood on all fours. It snarled, and swirled its four tentacles, lashing out at Dan and Cliff. Dan fired in its direction, knocking it back a ways as Drew swerved to dislodge it. Cliff turned to fire, blasting the creature’s head to pieces. Drew rolled over it when it hit the street and squealed his tires as he headed back toward the highway.
Behind them, another truck appeared. Dan turned to look, seeing a man in the passenger side crawl out the window with a rifle.
“Shit,” he muttered.
They passed the gas station again, barely seeing the intersection in the moonlight. Drew bounced around the corner, turning left onto the highway. The pickup was right behind them. Dan heard the buzz of a bullet whizz by his head. He and Cliff raised their rifles, firing into the truck’s windshield. Though glass shattered, the truck still came after them.
