by Angela White
7
The hardest task yet waited for them at the top of the stairs.
They pushed open the final door to reveal a dingy attic space with covered furniture and peeling walls. On one side, there were three large wolves, each sitting tensely pointed toward the door. On the other side were three more of the tall, lanky creatures that the fighters were more than tired of. Behind this second group of animals, their leader lurked in the shadows. Covered from top to bottom in a long, black shroud, the figure was tall and thin, but that was all the fighters could determine.
In the center of her men, Alexa used her boot to slam the door. Some leaders would have used this moment to instruct her team, but Alexa didn’t know what was waiting any more than they did. She filled the scant seconds with what she thought mattered the most in that absence of information-the basic rules.
“Aim small, miss small,” she reminded them. “And, watch your six.”
The shadowy form in the corner seemed to come to life at those words, as did the wolves, and the fighters found themselves in their first upper-level battle where the reality they knew no longer existed.
“Kill them all!” the shrouded figure screamed, throwing a cloud of flies that had appeared to be a part of her clothes.
The scaly hag rose to full size, stubby head sliding along the ceiling, and Alexa’s men didn’t wait for the wolves to attack. They fired, aiming for heads and hearts as the flies tried to blind them.
Alexa knew bullets wouldn’t work on the crone, but the wolves were quickly taken down before they could do damage. While her men handled what they could, Alexa stepped forward to meet the hag.
Without her veil, the spectral was mostly a skeleton, and Alexa huffed a sigh of relief at it being this kind. The stronger, harder to kill specters were flesh-bodied and only fire would end them.
Alexa shoved her knife through the crone’s neck when she swiped with an ancient, slow grasp, and stepped back as the body fell. She saw the wolves were down, her men were reloading and sharing snickers, and she shook her head. “Rookies.”
All of the men turned toward her, brows drawn together in confusion and then warning as they saw the hag rising from the ground behind Alexa.
The wolves lunging for their boots an instant later was unexpected, and the men scrambled back to clear room for shooting as the battle restarted.
With no time to do more than react, the six men spent an ugly minute putting the wolves back down. Jacob fell over his own feet, causing Edward to cover two wolves this time and they were glad when all of the animals were dead.
Alexa had already dispatched with hag and reloaded and she shook her head when her men would have questioned. “Not right now.”
That told them it wasn’t over yet and the men quickly got into better positions to handle the wolves that were already reviving.
Alexa used her knife for a third time and remembered to duck the swipe and then jump the falling corpse that tried to bite her.
Jacob remembered not to trip, but Edward still covered his wolf and Jacob’s, slower to understand that the preacher had adjusted.
Silence reigned for a moment, broken by reloading and faster breathing than when they’d come up here.
The hag cackled tauntingly as she stood up in full form and began the play all over.
Alexa’s knife, duck and jump was now followed by the knife again, across the skeleton’s neck this time and Alexa knew she’d have to reset it soon. Remembering steps wasn’t easy in this situation.
Jacob, who’d come close to being bitten by Edward missing his own wolf to protect him after he’d fallen, slammed the mag home with a grunt. “New plan. Back up and stay shoulder to shoulder.”
Alexa sighed heavily as she put the hag down for the fifth time, feeling the daze of monotony trying to take over the adrenaline. If allowed, that would get them killed.
The men handled the wolves easier this time, but Jacob’s words reminded them it was about to get harder.
“I’m out.”
“Half a mag,” Edward stated, pulling his knife as the wolf by him stirred. “Straddle them; take them out as soon as you can.”
It was a great idea that let the men keep the wolves down enough that they were able to watch Alexa’s artful death strokes on the hag. As she tired, Alexa also straddled her target and simply slit the throat each time it tried to revive.
Alexa met Edward’s eye as she added a neck snap. “Pace yourselves.”
Edward groaned as the wolf under him snapped back to life with a thick growl and he plunged the blade into its thick body yet again. How long would this go on?
“Until we’ve killed them enough times to draw attention,” Alexa answered the unspoken question. “It may be a while and when it happens, you’ll know this part is done. There won’t be any mistaking it.”
Those words were not a comfort to the already tired men and they each began to conserve their energy, using the less artful, more efficient, moves to get the job done. Above them, in the room’s only window, the sun sank, leaving them in a nightmarish darkness that stole over them like a second skin.
8
Edward plunged and pulled, knees locked down. Then he waited, hearing his own ragged gasps for air. The sets were reviving closer to together now, like something was finally headed toward them, but at this moment, he had no will left to fight.
“That’s what this is designed to do,” Alexa said from her knee-numbing hold on the wiggling hag. She plunged her knife in, pulled it out, and then found Edward through the darkness. “Soon. Hold steady.”
Desire and determination came back to her men in small words like those, and she felt their warmth around her as the next set started… Except the rumbling wasn’t the body under them. That now felt cold and heavy, with no life of any kind.
“Stand and be true-Ahhhh!”
Alexa screamed as she was grabbed by a huge clawed hand, the grip relentless. She got a fast view of the real specter (fiery, snotty, and seriously pissed-off) and then she was flying through the window and out into the open air.
“Alexa!” Edward and Mark shouted it together and followed their leader by tossing themselves out the window.
The remaining four fighters faced the master alone.
9
Paul snapped awake, the distant gunshots enough to speed up his heart as they continued. Those were Alexa’s Colts and the other men, now fighting to the death against whatever target Alexa had pointed out. They would shoot on command and she would smile at them in happiness.
“Should have been me,” he lamented, going to shut the rickety door of the shack. It was getting colder and though he hadn’t formed a plan, he would have to at least stay here for tonight. With anger in his mind, he covered the broken window with a tarp from the kit he knew how to pack correctly now, and then leaned the half a cupboard against the door to hold it closed and keep out the draft. After he made a bed in the corner, gun in his lap, Paul dropped right back into his mental prison. He didn’t start a fire or even use his penlight, a gift from Billy for making the trip to Lincoln without getting any of them killed. He sat in cold darkness, occasionally fingering the gun, and didn’t move again until dawn broke over the smoky landscape.
Chapter Sixteen
A Hag? Oh, Hell
1
Alexa landed in a tree branch that immediately felt different from the moldy trunks she was used to. She felt two thick thuds of her men hitting the branches behind her and gasped in pain as she tried to shout. Her ribs were broken-at least three.
“Get that whore down here!” Alexa gasped out.
Mark grabbed her and hauled her into the fork where she could hold on.
Edward used his gun to get the attention of the master. He shot the wolves under the trees, quickly using up the last of his bullets.
There was an astounded roar from inside the house and then four men came hurtling through the window. Two had been thrown, two had jumped themselves, and Alexa held on tight
ly as the small grove of trees shook and smacked into each other under the impacts.
The roaring got louder as it moved closer, the master furious at the deaths committed so boldly in her presence and Alexa figured the situation. The timing had to be perfect and she couldn’t spare even a minute of explanation.
The hag came from the windows on the second floor, bursting through them with her evil wail spilling from a mouth that crawled with plague. It ran from her eyes in streams of virulent dna mixes, proclaiming her identity as she tried to infect them through sight, touch, sound, and smell.
Alexa lifted herself up so that she could kick at the wood below her. Following as always, the men did the same without understanding why.
Power emanated from the specter as it rushed closer and all of the fighters felt a heavy weight settle into their lungs and begin to steal their air. Even from a distance, it was a horrifyingly debilitating weapon and David found himself on the ground as he ran out of air and had to let go of the branch.
Daniel dropped down to help him, slowly choking himself.
Panic had sunk into David’s mind and doors there flew open as he began to grey out. A force shot from his mind like a bullet and the hag coming toward them screeched again in blind rage.
Daniel felt the heaviness ease and hefted the blacksmith to his feet.
David struggled to alertness, climbing awkwardly as the other fighters grabbed at his arms to assist.
Furious at being denied, the hag rushed toward the small copse of trees, but drew up again, wailing her outrage as the two trees closest to her lit up with a brilliant blue light.
“What is that?” Jacob asked, hand up to shield his eyes.
“They’re holly trees!” Alexa answered, dropping to the ground. “Come on!”
Alexa ran forward and stabbed the hag with the sharp end of a thick branch, aiming for where a heart should have been. The light from the trees blinded the specter, disorienting her and Alexa’s men used their own branches to stab her wherever they could reach.
The specter roared in pain this time, starting to retreat and Alexa ran to the other side, gasping as she hunkered down with her branch lodged firmly against the ground.
“Hey!” Alexa called harshly. “Slam you!”
The crone turned too quickly and impaled herself on the tree branch, screaming. She poured blood that was as black as the mold on the other trees and her cries of agony summoned nearby living things and then things that weren’t. Rats and wolves came from the corn, eyes glowing with vengeance as the hag died, sagging on the branch.
The corn rustled, undead forms struggling closer, and Alexa swore under her breath. “Get back to the house!”
The fighters fed to the front porch but were surprised when Alexa only took up a fighting stance in front of the doors. They flanked her, kicking and knifing the animals who came too close. The undead were also coming for them, more and more of the elderly sacrifices of Lincoln drawn toward the promise of blood.
Alexa pulled the last of her strength and raised her hands in ancient, powerful motions that sent flames shooting from her fingertips.
They leapt eagerly onto the door and window frames, onto the wood railing of the porch and the slats under their feet. In seconds, the porch was flaming and the vengeful creatures stalking them paused in wary confusion.
Alexa spun around and kicked the doors open for the second time the same day, nearly falling as they burst open. “To the rear,” she ordered roughly, as Edward caught her.
The fighters ran for the kitchen, ignoring the withered corpse of the cook, but Alexa held up a hand. “Not until it’s almost gone.”
Realizing they would have to stay inside the house while it burnt, the men began pulling up bandanas and wetting their sleeves. Alexa stayed in the chair Edward had placed her in, breathing in heaving gasps as she tried to gather enough energy to finish the job.
Smoke poured into the kitchen from under the swinging doors, gathering in a thick layer along the ceiling.
Edward helped Alexa get her bandana up and motioned the others to stay down low. He took up a place by the screened porch door, hoping to see the small army wasn’t still out there waiting for them.
“Shit!” Edward exclaimed. “There are more zombies.”
“Undead,” Jacob corrected cheerfully. “Zombies are the things from movies.”
Edward shrugged, snorting, “Looks like zombies from here.”
The house was old and brittle, and it burnt quickly. The group in the kitchen listened to the front porch collapse and then the living room walls came alive, flooding the kitchen with thicker, black smoke.
“On the floor!” Alexa ordered, and then coughed so hard she puked, moaning between heaves in agony.
Edward dragged her down and toward the back door. “We have to get out!”
Alexa nodded, unable to speak and Edward used his boot to open the door.
An undead face loomed above them, growling hungrily and Edward shouted in anger and fear. He kicked out, catching the zombie in the chin and she cartwheeled down the porch stairs, clearing a brief path.
“This way!” Edward led them down the stairs and into the corn, shoving zombies aside, jumping large rats. He had an arm under Alexa’s, Mark’s hand entwined with his to keep her upright, and they fled the burning house without looking back. There was no need to. They could all hear the padding feet, the rustles of hastily moved cornstalks.
“Why did we burn the house?!” Billy complained as he helped to drag Alexa forward. She was trying to help, but her feet mostly peddled after each step, a beat off.
Even as he spoke the words, a large wolf about to lunge in front of them burst in flames, yapping and howling. A rat by his feet also caught fire with no visible source and Jacob shook a fist. “They die with the house! Yes! Take that!”
“Keep moving,” Alexa said weakly. “Until dawn.”
Edward knew what was coming and he gently swung her up and over his shoulder before she could fall out completely. “We will. You rest, boss.”
Alexa grunted, eyes closing. “Pass out, you mean.”
Edward forced a chuckle. “Yeah. We’ll have that idiot doctor in Lincoln examine you again when go back for Paul.”
“Let’s move it!” Mark ordered and the men picked up speed, outdistancing the smaller animals and shoving through the undead still being drawn to the noise and smoke. The farther from the house they got, the fewer obstacles that there were to evade and they actually felt it when the house gave.
Alexa’s body sagged over Edward’s shoulder as she too surrendered to the inevitable and Edward motioned them to a fast walk as he tried to catch his breath. He turned to get a view of the house, but all he could see was a bright glow and pillars of thick smoke billowing into the night sky.
Around them, small spontaneous combustions crackled like fireworks as predators and rodents exploded in showers of flames that caught the corn afire.
“Son of a—”
“Yeah,” Daniel interrupted Mark’s curse. “I’m really getting tired of this place.”
“Where to?” David asked, taking Alexa’s body from Edward. After their last adventure in the sewer tunnels, the men had this part of the quest down pat.
“There!” Billy pointed to a shadow. “I think that’s a silo. We’ll hole up there!”
The males ran as hard as they had been, despite the danger being gone. It didn’t feel safe yet and Alexa had taught them not to let their guard down until it was.
“It’s got no door!” Daniel called, running ahead of the others. The frame of what had once been a large barn would offer them no shelter either and the men crammed into the narrow silo stairway and began to climb.
“It’s concrete,” David pointed out when Edward paused them half way up. “If we climb in the bin, we’ll be covered on air for a while, maybe long enough for it to burn out.”
Outside the silo, the burning corn made thick popping and crackling sounds, sometimes snapping
against the silo as if in anger at their escape.
Edward and David settled Alexa into a bottom corner of the damp bin, laid across a sawhorse they’d placed rotting boards on top of. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but none of them was willing to lay her in the muck that layered the bottom of the old corn silo. It obviously hadn’t been used for a while before the war and the men stayed by their mistress as the smoke wound its way up through the open silo door.
2
Unlike inside the shut-up house, the silo’s top had also been damaged and the smoke was drawn from the bottom, up the stairs, and then out. Only a bare layer entered the actual bin and it stayed near the top, searching for an exit.
The fighters were relieved to have caught a break and they searched their gear for any bullets they may have overlooked.
It was David who had them covered there, though he hadn’t realized earlier.
“She said someone had to account for Paul’s bad aim when he started learning to shoot. I’ve been stashing boxes for two weeks.”
It gave three full mag’s worth of bullets to each man, and four to Alexa. Edward reloaded her weapons while Mark placed the extra mags in her belt. When she woke, she’d be glad to see them there.
Edward settled himself on the small shoveling ledge that was built into the walls of the silo and leaned his head back. He let out a weary sigh.
The other men followed his example, all eager to relax and be semi-comfortable. They shared what room there was and kept eyes on Alexa, who had begun to snore.
Billy sank down with a grunt and shifted his kit until it was the pillow Alexa always used hers as. He hadn’t had a need to do it until now and he found it comforting when the others did it as well. Alexa would be proud of them.
3
