DEAD: Darkness Before Dawn
Page 20
“Yeah?” he called back, suddenly tired of being on the receiving end of this routine every night his mother came home from one of the local taverns. “Well maybe if you could keep your legs closed, every guy in town would not see you as little more than an easy fuck!”
There was silence for a moment and he thought that perhaps she had passed out and missed his retort. Then she was in the hallway and coming at him with hatred in her eyes. He was so surprised that she had slapped him at least a dozen times before he ever thought to put up his hands and defend himself. A well placed hand to his face snapped him back to the moment.
His vision seemed to blur around the edges and he balled up his fist. Just as his mother lost steam and dropped her hands, he swung. His punch caught her square in the eye. He actually felt a small crunch. He could not explain it, but he suddenly understood all those nature shows about sharks where they slip into a feeding frenzy.
Sean began to swing haymakers. His fists rained down on his mother in a flurry. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard her screaming, then crying, then begging him to stop. But he kept on, all the years of listening to her berate him and wish for his non-existence had finally boiled over.
And so that is how the police found him when they kicked in the door. He was sitting astride his mother raining blows down on her. At some point she had lost consciousness.
He was in a haze for a while, but eventually the fog lifted. He saw blood all over his hands and splattered all over his body. Glancing up, the reflection of a face in the window stared back through a mask of crimson.
He still did not really come around and realize what he had done until sometime in the back of the police car that took him to jail. That first morning, as the sun rose and he still sat in a holding cell, the pain in his hands finally drew him to complete awareness. They had been broken in several places, the knuckle of his right index finger looked like it had been pushed back an inch or two, and a couple of the fingers were crooked. He found himself wondering what his mother must look like if his hands were so totally ruined. He could almost understand why his hands looked the way they did, but what he did not understand was how come his throat felt like it had been scoured with sandpaper.
He did not see his mother for over a week until the initial arraignment…and he had barely recognized her. He had heard enough from his friends and just people passing, so he had known that his mom was pretty. The thing in the courtroom that day was hardly recognizable as human. The face was a misshapen lump with slits for eyes that were constantly leaking.
The police gave brief statements of a crazed maniac beating a defenseless—and apparently by the time they arrived, also unconscious—woman. They told about how they arrived at the scene of a domestic disturbance and could hear the screaming from outside before they opened their doors and exited the vehicles. They had kicked in the door to discover Sean Fields beating his mother and screaming obscenities at her.
He had not recalled the screaming at all. And then he had been made to stand and face the judge.
“How do you plead?” the stern-faced man had said, peering down at him over the tops of his glasses like he was looking at a bug or some other vermin.
“Guilty,” Sean said with a shrug. The lawyer at his side had tried to protest, but Sean had raised his hands in the air and shook them at the man. “You think my hands got this way by me having an accident? Heck, you could probably match the shape of my hands to some of those dents in her face…why would I say I am not guilty? The evidence is right here!”
He shook his fists at the public pretender that had the bad luck to draw his name in the lawyer pool. The man actually cowered and raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. Then the officers tackled him and wrestled him to the ground.
After that it had been open and shut. He would do time in juvie for four years until he turned eighteen at which time he would be evaluated. If he was still considered a danger, he would continue his sentence in adult prison for another two years.
That had been over a year ago. In that time, he had not heard a peep from his mother. Not a card or letter for birthdays or holidays, and certainly not a visit.
When everything went to hell…or Hell came to visit depending on how you saw things, he had slipped into the routine of the incarcerated. He got up at the same time each day, attended his mandatory school classes, worked out, and then hustled the new fish at cards or dominoes.
Because of his violent classification, he was not allowed to have any sort of orderly job which would have paid him twenty-five bucks a month so that he could buy things on the commissary list handed out each week. Nobody ever sent him in anything, so if he wanted something extra he had to hustle for it or take it. The first year had been mostly the latter, but he got tired of being sent to the hole for fighting.
Sean discovered almost by accident that he had a knack for understanding card games like Spades, Hearts, and Pinochle. He could also do well at a Poker table. He liked dominoes, but he did not get into the whole thing about slamming them on the table and found that sort of thing would trigger his anger; so he tended to avoid that game unless it was his last resort.
The day he saw the stuff on the news where rioters were in the streets violently attacking people, he felt something in the back of his mind tingle with a warning. As much as he wanted to dismiss it, he could not help but feel that this was bigger and far worse than the television was saying.
One night before they were all locked in for the evening count, the kid who sort of ran the tier stopped off at his cell door. He leaned in the doorway, which was a serious issue. It usually meant that the person was about to call you out to a fight. In juvie, all you had was your cell. That was sacred ground and nobody openly disrespected that code unless you were about to throw down. The thing was, he had never had any problems with Fish, so he didn’t know why he was being targeted all of a sudden.
“Watch yourself the next few days,” the older, much larger kid had said. “Saw some stuff when I was sweeping the floor in the CO’s station. He had his television on with the sound. They are saying that dead people are out there eating the living.”
Sean remembered being confused at first. Then he thought that the older Fish was having some fun with him…that this must be his idea of a joke. He was checking to see if maybe he cracked. Well, Sean thought, you need to come up with something more realistic than that.
But then the television had been taken from the unit. The regular guards that worked their unit were not showing up…and then the television was brought back. After that, well, it had been a long series of nightmares that he could not wake up from.
After Fish died, he had been the one in charge. Deanna took care of the kids and he took care of making sure they had food and stuff. He had started getting worried towards the end. They had broken in to every house for miles around. Food was getting scarce and they were not the only ones out there looking for it.
The worst was that gang that called themselves The Bullies. They had lost more than a few of their supply carts because The Bullies had shown up and the only choice was to drop everything and run. Joining up with Kevin for the short term had probably saved all their lives.
Now he was on the road with everybody who had stuck around after the breakout. That guy Kevin was running things…when he was not unconscious. And then there was Deanna.
They had butted heads at times, but somewhere along the line, they had come to rely on each other from a combined strength that neither of them had on their own. The first time they kissed had actually been his first kiss. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have snagged a girl if he had tried, but he was always just so angry. He thought now that maybe most girls had been scared of him.
Those first days on the move had been tough. He had enough trouble trusting Kevin and the girls traveling with him, but then they had picked up others. He still watched that guy Trent; all he needed was one excuse and he would stick a knife in that man’s throat.
He loved Deanna. He hadn’t told her yet, not in words, but he was certain that she knew. That was why it would be best for them to strike out on their own path. He saw no reason to walk all the way to South Dakota.
There had to be someplace just as good that did not require having to walk a thousand miles through zombies and crazy gangs. Now that everybody was dead, they could have their pick of places to live. He would pick out a mansion and they would live happily ever after.
“Everybody up on the roof!” a voice, he thought it was Catie, shouted.
And like a soap bubble, his fantasy popped and the real world rushed back in to fill the void. The rumble of an explosion shook the building and dust drifted down from the ceiling.
“Everybody on the roof NOW!”
12
Questions With No Answers
I woke up with a nasty headache. If this was anything like a hangover, I had no idea how anybody could ever intentionally get drunk with the knowledge that this was what waited on the other side.
The first thing I did was pull the IV from my arm. I had no idea why I’d been hooked to one unless they were using it to keep me out. Why would they go through all the trouble? A tremor of nerves coursed through me.
Looking around, I was in what looked like a small room. The walls were all stone and there was no window. It smelled damp and musty, but not a trace of zombie funk. That was a plus. There was a bucket in the corner which I assume had to be my toilet. My bed was a three inch thick foam mattress and they had given me a blanket. This was all a bit strange. I mean, if they were just going to kill me, why not simply do it and be done…unless they were into torture, or I was the next person who would be chopped up and mailed.
However, if Jake had done what he said, there probably wouldn’t be anybody to mail my parts to. Simply put, this group had us beat on all fronts. I stood up and stretched, tasting something coppery when I swallowed. I went to the bucket and spat. Just a trace of blood, nothing to be alarmed about in normal circumstances, but this was far from normal.
There was a noise at my door and instinctively I backed up against the wall. I had no intentions of making this easy for whoever it was coming through that door.
I certainly did not expect to see a young woman about twenty-five or so standing in my doorway. She leaned back and said something I could not hear to somebody that I could not see. Then, she stepped inside my room…or cell depending on how I looked at it.
“Mister William Haynes,” she made it a statement, not a question. “I imagine you have plenty of questions, but before we get down to any of it…I need to know if I am going to have any trouble.”
I stared at her. It was actually kind of difficult not to laugh. I was the one who had been drugged and dumped in whatever this was. She had a pistol on her hip and a really impressive knife at her side. I had…basically nothing.
“I guess not,” I said with a shrug.
My brain went into overdrive as I tried to pull in all of the things that I had learned this past year. I told myself that I would not give up information about my group no matter the fact that we had not exactly been on the same page. Despite how things had played out, they were still my people.
“You missed out on quite a scene,” the woman said and moved to the corner farthest from me. She was playing it safe. To me, that meant that she was nobody to take lightly. My size could only get me so far against somebody who knew what they were doing.
“How’s that?” I asked.
I decided that my best defense was to steal things from Jake’s book of tricks. If I played like a big, dumb kid, then maybe they would treat me like one. That might allow me to get information that could be useful once I had anything resembling a plan.
“A few of your…friends paid us a visit shortly after your arrival.”
I steeled myself for some very bad news. I knew what I’d seen, and I also knew what Jake had to work with. I was surprised that he was willing to risk any sort of an attack on this place if he’d seen it. He was supposed to be a soldier, he was the one with experience. So, unless he saw some glaring weakness that my ignorant eyes managed to miss, an attack here ended poorly.
“Not going to ask how it turned out?” She leveled her gaze on me and I realized that there was something odd about her eyes. It took me a few seconds to realize that they were a different color! One was a dark brown, but the other was a sort of greenish brown.
“Bad?” I finally offered.
“For them? Yes.”
That was short and to the point. I guess she was playing out of the same book as me; give away nothing. I decided to push it a bit longer and see if she would leak anything.
“I would guess that about half of them perished at our perimeter, and from the amount of zombie activity that they brought down, I would guess they lost a few on the way back.”
So there it was. Jake had gotten his butt handed to him. I figured that meant I was no longer a bargaining chip. If they had wiped out half of the people who attacked, that would put our numbers at a few hundred at best if you counted the children.
“So I guess you will be…killing me soon?” I asked.
I really was clueless as to the game she was playing or what she wanted; perhaps it was best if I just got this over with. Not that I wanted to die…I so did not want to die.
“Actually we are extending the same offer to you that we gave those who attacked us…which they obviously rejected.”
“And what might that be?”
“Simple…join us.”
I was ready for a lot of answers, just not that one. I did not know whether to laugh or allow myself a sliver of hope.
“You captured one of our people and sent her fingers in a box.” I decided not to simply jump at the tempting offer. And it was tempting. However, I was not really wanting to be executed or tortured or anything along those lines.
“Yes, about that…” The woman walked over to the door and knocked twice. She moved back to the corner and resumed her very cool-as-a-cucumber pose.
A minute or two passed. When you are a prisoner and have no idea what fate awaits you, that seems like much longer than it really is.
Finally, the door opened. When Carol walked in, I was so relieved and happy that my whole silent and stupid façade went out the window; at least it would have if there had been one…window that is.
The woman took a step inside. I was trying to balance my happiness with searching her face for any sign of fear or stress. Also, I could not take my eyes off her hands. All her fingers were right where they were last time I’d seen her.
“Hello, William,” Carol said with what really looked like a genuine smile.
“I would love to let you enjoy this reunion, but I am afraid that will have to wait for a while,” the woman said.
I was stunned when Carol did not say a word in argument, she simply smiled, nodded, and stepped back outside the room. If I was confused when I first woke up…I was absolutely lost now. This made no sense.
“When you say you want me to join you….just what does that mean?”
“It is fairly straightforward. You join our community, you help us create a secure environment, and you become a part of the community.”
“That just seems a bit too easy. Sorry if I sound skeptical, but I have learned in the last year that nothing is quite as easy as it seems.”
The woman actually smiled. It was pretty, but I was having a hard time with not staring at her face. Those eyes were kind of creeping me out. I imagine that, before zombies and that whole thing about how you can know if a person is infected by their eyes, I might have considered them pretty or exotic. Right now…just creepy.
“I can certainly understand…and if I was the evi
l person that your expression clearly shows you to believe that I am, then I would not be making this offer.” She pushed away from the wall and walked to the door. “You are free to go and return to your people. If you do not wish to stay, then you are not compelled to do so. However, we understand that you and your people had the idea to secure the entire town of La Grande and some of the surrounding farmland. This community is made up of people who grew up here…lived their lives here. We will not be displaced, nor will we be subjugated. It would be best if perhaps your people found someplace else. We won’t force you, but we also will not allow for strangers to come in and try to push us out or tell us we have to bend to their wishes.
“We have a government that was formed by popular vote, we have law enforcement and an ad hoc justice system. Every citizen is required to work, and there is no shortage of jobs. You would be assigned based on your strengths and, of course, you would be given a say. For instance, we would not put you on exterior patrol if it was not something you were comfortable doing.” She paused and shook her head, leaning forward like she was sharing some sort of big secret with me. “Believe it or not, there are actually some folks who want to go outside the fence.”
I considered everything that she said. I still did not entirely trust it. Things seemed too simple, too tidy. Honestly, this was more of what I had hoped to accomplish with my original group. These would all be strangers, and I would feel like a goldfish sitting in my bowl in the middle of the room where everybody would walk by and see me.
I had never been the “new” kid. I’d grown up in the same house, had pretty much all the same friends. Even when Steve’s group formed, I was one of the originals. When we arrived at Serenity Base, I was with my people, so it still was not like I was new.
Could this place be like that? I know we all talked those first few days at Serenity. We were waiting for something bad to happen. We could not believe that the place was as good as it seemed on the surface; but it was.