by Brown, Ben
“Callum, is that you?” the faceless man shouted as he drew closer.
The boy withdrew his hand from the gun and let out a thankful sigh. It was Dr. Channing.
“Yep, Doc, it’s me alright. What the heck are you doing here?”
The cart came to a stop a few feet from the boy, and the doctor jumped down. “I thought I would come and see if you needed a ride back into town.” The physician took in his surroundings, and then said, “I see you have been keeping busy. Would you like a hand?”
Callum felt struck by how readily the doctor accepted what he saw. He made no comments about the dead; he simply seemed to see them as part of the landscape. It unsettled Callum a little. How could someone simply accept so much death?
“I’ve nearly collected all the dead, but a hand would be appreciated.” It was then that Hector let out a small bark. The boy looked down and said, “I guess Hector here wants me to introduce him. Hector, this is Dr. Channing. Dr. Channing, this is Hector.”
The doctor offered his hand to the dog. Hector sniffed it briefly, and then allowed the man to pat his head.
“Is your pa and the others inside?” Channing asked as he pulled a small glass jar from his pocket. He undid the lid, rubbed his index finger in its contents, and then dabbed the finger under his nose. A glob of white and greasy looking goo now sat just below each nostril.
Callum nodded, and asked, “What’s that?”
The doctor held up the jar. “What, this?” Callum nodded. “It’s just a little cold cream mixed with peppermint. It helps with the smell.”
The doctor place the jar back in his pocket, and then pulled out a medical mask. As soon as he had donned the mask, he clapped his hands. “Right, the sooner we get these things burned, the sooner we can take off these god awful face coverings.”
The two walked towards the body Callum had dropped at the good doctor’s approach. “What about your patients back in town?” Callum asked as he took one of the corpse’s arms.
“I think they will be alright for a few hours,” the doctor replied as he took the corpse’s other arm. “Besides, I was worried about you.”
Callum looked at him gratefully, and then the two set about their work.
***
An hour later the flames of the cremation pyre licked at the sky, and both Callum and the doctor stood back and watched. The putrid smell that had plagued the air was finally starting to lift, which in turn signaled it was time to leave the mill.
“Doc, do you ever think things will get back to normal?” Callum asked as he removed his mask.
Without looking at the boy, the doctor answered, “Things will find a normality, and we’ll move on. I’ve a feeling these things are going to be with us for quite some time. I heard news from Boston this morning…”
Callum’s heart started to race, and his mind turned to his mother and sister. “What news?”
“Only that Boston is in much the same trouble as here. The creatures went through the city like a dose of salts and they left this new ailment in their wake. The press have given the creatures and the sickness a name. They are calling the victims Lingerers, and the disease itself the Lingering.”
“Why the Lingering?”
“I suppose it refers to how the creatures linger instead of just dying. In addition, the people in the stupors are lingering too. They seem trapped between the world of the creatures’ and ours.” Dr. Channing shook his head sadly. “I’ve heard that all the cities along the east coast are now infected. Soon, the whole country will fall, and then it’ll only be a matter of time before the disease claims the whole world.
“Plagues have always ravished humanity, but this is something new. I’m afraid there will be no end to it.”
Dr. Channing looked at the boy by his side, and he could see terror in his eyes. It was then he saw the large wound in the boy’s cheek
“What in God’s name happen to your face?”
The doctor moved closer to Callum and studied the injury, but he took care not to touch his face with his gore-soiled hands.
“I had a bit of an accident as I climbed back into the mill. It’s not as painful as it looks.”
The doctor straightened. “As soon as we return to town, I’ll clean it, and then stitch it.”
“Stitches? Will they hurt?”
“Yes, but not as much as hurting yourself in the first place did.”
Callum nodded uneasily. He had never had stitches before, but the word itself sounded painful, so the actual act most certainly would be. He forced the prospect from his mind and repeated his earlier query.
“You danced around answering my question.” The boy kicked at the dirt and kept his eyes averted from the man at his side. “Do you ever think things will be as before, I mean, well … normal. You know, will we ever be happy again?”
“I’m sorry, Callum, but I don’t see how things can ever be the same again. Humanity will survive this, but we will all end up changed by it. This level of human loss leaves a scar on those who remain. The survivors have to morn their lost ones, but they also morn their own survival. In short, things are never going to be the same again.”
Callum looked at him for a moment, and then looked back at the mill. He felt completely dishearten by the doctor’s forthright honesty. He had wanted the truth, and he appreciated the doctor treating him like an adult, but sometimes you wanted things with a little sugar coating.
He then thought of his father, and he knew he would have been just as honest as the doctor had been. It was then that Callum realized his childhood was over. There would be no more playing of games. No more relaxing with friends. From this day until he died, life would be hard and relentless. The prospect both saddened him and filled him with self-pity. He was twelve. Why should he have to bare such horrific realizations on his shoulders? In that moment, and in spite of the man at his side, he felt more alone than he ever had in his life.
“I think we should get pa and the others back to town,” Callum said in a cracked voice, which was full of emotion.
Without another word, Callum walked grimly back to the mill.
Dr. Channing watched the boy as he walked away, and he suddenly felt ashamed of himself. The boy had needed a lie. He had needed to see a little light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, he had been completely honest, and he feared his honesty had broken the boy’s spirit.
The doctor shook his head slowly, and cursed the things known as the Lingerers. Finally, he headed off after the boy.
Chapter 17
Callum and the doctor pulled into town just before dusk. The boy grabbed the doctor’s arm and pointed silently towards a figure shambling up the center of the street.
“These things are like rats,” Callum whispered as he reached for his musket. “Where you see one, there’s always another hundred hiding.”
The boy raised the gun and targeted the creature, but the doctor placed a hand on the weapon, and forced him to lower it.
“Look at it,” Channing whispered, “It’s seen us, but it doesn’t seem interested.”
Callum realized the doctor was right. Normally, the things attacked on sight.
“Wait,” Channing said as he shielded his eyes against the lowering sun. “That’s Mrs. Hopkins. She was one of my patients in the saloon.”
The doctor jumped from the cart and ran towards his makeshift hospital; Callum followed. Channing burst through the door, and instantly noticed that five previously occupied cots were now empty. He looked back out into the street. Mrs. Hopkins was now only twenty or so yards from them, yet still she seemed completely uninterested in their presence.
Channing swallowed hard, and then walked to meet her.
“What are you doing!” Callum shouted as he ran back to the cart to retrieve his gun.
“She’s not like the others. Look at her eyes.”
Callum grabbed his gun, levelled it at the old woman’s head, and began to edge closer.
Channing now stood only a foot from
the woman, she in turn looked back at him with complete disinterest. The doctor gulped, and then reached out and took the old woman’s hand.
“She’s nothing like the first wave of creatures, she’s completely placid. Maybe this is a new phase in the disease’s progression. Maybe the aggression is missing from the newly infected. Look at her eyes … see how they’re yellow. The other creatures’ eyes were completely black.”
Callum kept his gun raised, but he continued to edge closer. “Doctor, I think you should be more careful.”
“Nonsense,” Channing said as he raised the woman’s eyelid and peered deep into her yellow eye.
Callum had now moved to within five feet of the woman, but he stopped when he noticed her sniffing the air.
“Doctor, move away. I think she’s caught the scent of my blood.”
Dr. Channing gasped with shock. The old woman’s eye turned black as he stared at it. Swirling vortexes of tiny black dots were spewing from her irises, turning her once yellow eyes into dead, black orbs.
The old woman viciously shoved the doctor aside and ran at Callum. The boy did not hesitate. A single shot obliterated the old woman’s head.
“Doc, get up! There are four more of those blasted creatures somewhere, and I need to reload.”
The doctor scrambled to his feet, and ran to the boy’s side. “She smelt your blood, and it turned her,” Channing said in panicked fits and gasps. “We need to dress that wound and mask its scent. Otherwise, you have a bull’s-eye tattooed on the side of your face.”
“You know what this means?” Callum asked as he scanned the street for more of the Lingering. “My pa, Sally, and old man marsh are going to turn into those things … and so are all the people inside the saloon. We’re wasting our time trying to save them!”
At that precise moment, one of the saloon’s upstairs windows swung open, and someone shouted.
“There are three more of those things outback. They seem mighty interested in the garbage, so I think you should hurry up and come inside.”
Both Callum and the doctor spun on their heels and stared up at the window. An elderly, and apparently completely toothless, black man hung from the window.
“What are you waiting for,” the toothless man yelled, “a written invitation? Well, that ain’t never going to happen, as I never learned my letters. So if I was you, I would be hightailing it inside.”
Callum looked at the doctor, and Channing looked back at him with a smile. “It appears that not everything is as bleak as you think. As you can see, some of the fallen do awake in the same state as before the malaise struck them. Meet Josiah Green.”
Callum slung his musket over his shoulder, and shouted up to the old man in the window. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Green. We have sick folks in yonder cart, and we would greatly welcome a hand getting them inside.”
“Right you are.”
With that, the old man disappeared, and then reappeared at the door of the saloon a minute later. Between the three of them, they made quick work of carrying the stricken into the saloon. After all were safely inside, they set about the task of blocking the door.
They then placed the three malady ridden, one of whom was Callum’s closest kin, in the vacant cots. As soon as they had settled the three in their beds, Callum, Dr. Channing and Jo Green headed up stairs.
“I have a pot of coffee on the stove,” Jo said as he looked over his shoulder at his weary looking companions. “It will perk you both right up. By the way, Boy, you should have the doctor take a look at your face, it looks right nasty.”
***
Jo had been right. After several strong cups of coffee both the doctor and Callum felt much revived.
“So,” Dr. Channing said as he placed his cup on the floor beside him, “what happened while I was away?”
As Jo recounted his tale, the doctor worked on Callum’s cheek.
“I remember those things attacking,” Green said as he settled into his story. “And then everything went dark. That is, ‘till I woke up down stairs. I was the first to wake. Mrs. Hopkins woke next. I soon saw she was … well … you know. She made no moves to attack me, so I simply opened the door and ushered her out into the street. The Broderick twins woke next. It was strange. One minute they were out cold, the next both of them opened their eyes at the same time. Again, they made no move to attack, so I just showed them the door. The fourth person to wake was a stranger to me, but like the others, I showed him the door.”
“So they showed no aggression?” Dr. Channing asked.
“Nope, just wandered out into the street.”
“So it was definitely the scent of Callum’s blood that turned Mrs. Hopkins into a monster … interesting.”
“I wouldn’t say interesting,” Callum interjected. “Frightening is what I would call it.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, it’s frightening, but it’s also interesting. If those things only become violent at the smell or sight of blood, then we might be able to control them. If they’re placid by nature, then they could be managed.”
“There ain’t nothing natural about those things,” Jo said as he stood and poured himself another coffee. “They’re an abomination.”
Callum nodded decisively. “I agree with Mr. Green. By the way, what happened to your masters?”
Green spun on his heels and stared at the boy angrily. “I ain’t no slave! I was born right here in town, and I was born a free man. The color of my skin don’t make me any less free than you. My daddy was a slave to the judge of these here parts, and when the judge died, he wrote in his will that my daddy be freed. I was born free, and even though I never married ‘til gone fifty, my two boys were born free too.
“Their momma’s dead now, God rest her soul, but she raised them boys good. I only hope this wicked curse ain’t reached them in Washington.” The old man’s eyes fixed on the boy, and they sparkled with pride. “They can read you know. My oldest, Josiah Junior, works in a school for the underprivileged. T’other, Seth he be, works for a senator right there on Capitol Hill. Lords, who would have ever thought in ignorant Negro like me, could have two boys who know their letters. We live in a marvelous time, and you mark my words, soon slavery will be wiped from this here country.”
“If we’re not all wiped from it by the Lingering,” Channing interjected.
Jo cut him a dirty look, but then nodded his agreement. “Tis true. Mayhap the Lord has seen fit to send a plague upon us. It’s like the Book of Revelations says in Zechariah 14:12, ‘And this shall be the plague with which the Lord will strike all the peoples that wage war against Jerusalem: their flesh will rot while they are still standing on their feet, their eyes will rot in their sockets, and their tongues will rot in their mouths.’.”
“If you can’t read, then how do you know it says that?” Callum asked in a puzzled tone.
“There you go again, Boy. You talk so ignorant that I can’t hardly believe it. Just ‘cause I can’t read, don’t mean I’m a fool. Can you read, Boy, ‘cause if you can, you is still a fool.
“I know what the bible says ‘cause I learned it at my momma’s knee. She done learned the bible from her daddy, and he were a lay preacher. My momma could read, and she tried to teach me my letters, but it never stuck. She said my head worked different to most folks because my brains is in my hands. There ain’t a thing on this here Earth that I can’t fix.”
Callum looked dejectedly at the floor. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to offend.”
Jo waved a hand absently in the air. “You ain’t the first to judge me ‘cause of my skin and you won’t be the last. Remember this, never judge a book by its cover, especially if the book don’t know its letters.” With that, the elderly black man erupted into a fit of bellowing laughter and slapped Callum on the back. “Come on, Boy, you is still alive, so count your blessings. I know that’s your pa downstairs, but he ain’t dead yet. I mean, just look at me. I’m an eighty year old black man living in a country where slavery
still runs riot. Yet, here I stands, as bold as Billy be damned. Smile, otherwise you may as well go downstairs and join the rest of those poor souls.”
Callum did smile, but it looked forced.
“I guess you’re right. Thanks, Jo.”
The elderly black man looked at him sternly. “I don’t recollect saying you could call me Jo.”
Callum began to stammer an apology, and with another outburst of laughter, Jo slapped his back again.
Chapter 18
For close to a week, Callum, Jo and the doctor watched over the Lingering without incident. To all of their surprise, no one else had risen from the stupor caused by the Lingering. The doctor surmised that the five who had awakened had only suffered from a mild form of the disease.
They had also searched for the three missing Lingerers, but they found no signs of where they were, or where they had gone. It was as if they had simply disappeared. This did not greatly upset Jo or Callum, but the doctor felt he could have learned a lot from them. Both Callum and Jo told him how unwise they thought it to capture one of the undead, but Dr. Channing dismissed their concerns out of hand.
As the week wore on, Callum found himself liking old Jo more and more. In many ways, the old man reminded him of his pa. Sure, his lively personality was nothing like his father’s quiet manner, but his deep and thoughtful wisdom seemed almost the same as his pa’s. The old man seemed to be able to sense Callum’s every thought, and usually, he always found a way of making the boy feel better.
“Jo, what do you think we should do if those folks below start waking, and they end up being like Mrs. Hopkins?” Callum asked as he and Jo sat with their legs dangling off the roof of the saloon. The two had taken to sitting on the roof to keep an eye out for Lingerers.
“Well, I think the doc would like to keep um around so he could poke um and prod um. I ain’t so sure that’s a good idea. The way I see it is those things are like wild animals. They may start out nice as pie, but once they gets a whiff of blood, they turn like a crazy mutt. I think we should put a bullet in their heads. What about you, Callum, what do you think?”
