The Creepers (Book 2): From the Past

by Dixon, Norman

  Post finished the last of his drink and went to the door. It seemed the rising sun had brought a little chaos with it. He sat on the threshold and smiled, swinging his legs like a little kid. For a moment he forgot the pain and watched the attack unfold. He only wished he had a mouth to cheer the wild lunatics on with.

  CHAPTER 14

  Howard wiped the sweat from her brow, tucking her stray curls behind her ears. Her chest rose and fell with an unhealthy rapidity, and she stirred, often moaning in her sleep, but the fever was breaking. He rolled back the bandage to reveal the wound, though he knew the true danger lurked where he couldn’t see. He only hoped he’d been quick enough to clean and dress and . . . He shook his head. There were too many variables.

  The wound was swollen and hot to the touch, crusted with blood, pus, and a spider’s web of bruises, like some wretched tattoo, reached well below her breast. He used some of their fresh water to flush it then he applied another round of herbs and fresh bandages. He covered her again and held her close, rocking her as he had each day for the past week.

  They’d managed to cover a significant amount of ground in the days that followed. Jennifer had proved to be extremely gritty and stubborn. He never thought dealing with his father would have prepared him for future encounters, but it had. Howard learned long ago that you didn’t fight a stubborn bastard. You let them hit the wall on their own, and you damn sure never said I told you so. He never said a word to her. He didn’t even bother to caution her to rest, for he knew it wouldn’t sink in.

  Three days into the angry trek farther north, Jennifer hit the wall, or rather, the wall hit her. The fever came quick and the tremors followed thereafter, and just like that, Howard became an offshoot of his father. He carried Jennifer for miles until he’d found a spot safe enough to stop. They’d spent the last few days tucked within the rotted trunk of a massive tree.

  The town they’d been traveling through had been broken in half. One half lay covered in weeds while the other rested at the bottom of the ocean, nearly erased. Howard looked down into the sparkling water. He could make out the shapes of houses, windows, cars, most of them almost completely reformed by the waters. Bits of broken homes poked from the side of the cliff and the watery thoughts of several Creepers haunted him unmercifully.

  Despite it all, he found the sound of the ocean soothing. It helped fade out the torment of the Creepers. He’d been testing the extent of his gift, moving them, prodding them, gathering them in clusters, and he needed a break, for the strain was wearing him thin. The crashing waves helped him lower their volume.

  “How long?” Jennifer rasped.

  “About twelve hours this time.” Howard held a bottle of water to her dry lips. “Drink. You need your fluids.”

  Jennifer sipped the water slowly. She rose on her good elbow, grimacing from the effort. “It hurts like hell. But I can feel my fingers today.”

  “That’s good. I think the worst is past, but we have to keep that thing super clean. We have to hunker down for a while.”

  “We can’t.” She coughed on the water. “We’ve lost too much time already.”

  “Time won’t matter when you’re dead.”

  “Neither will any of this, but I’m not dead yet. We eat, we hydrate, we move.” She shook the bottle of water at him. “It’s not up for negotiation. We still have a lot of ground to cover, and not easy terrain either.”

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard himself yelling at his father to take it easy. “We move, that’s fine, but we move at my pace and stop when I say.”

  “Fine.”

  Howard unrolled the solar charger from his pack. He plugged the small device in and said, “Funny how these things at one time were able to instantly communicate with their counterparts all over the world.”

  “No one left to talk to anymore.”

  “How can we be so sure? There’s a lot of world out there.”

  “There’s a lot of dead world out there.”

  “I know I’m the central device in your plan, but you still haven’t told me what that plan involves.”

  Jennifer picked up the device. “Bring up the maps.”

  “They’re twenty years out of date. We’ve been using their general direction, but as far as details, we have nothing… We’re looking at half of a map and it’s fish food.”

  Jennifer kissed him on the cheek. “Trust me, okay?”

  “I don’t trust anybody.”

  “Smart man. Now bring up the maps.”

  Howard worked the touch screen, trying to fathom how the device would’ve worked in his father’s day when linked to computers orbiting the earth. It was almost magic in his mind, almost, had he not had the persistent Doc Danielson as his father. They’d spent many nights up in the rooftop gardens watching the old tech burn through the atmosphere. He’d have given anything for one of those satellites now. Instead, he got an unpredictable map program his father worked into the device. It had locked the thing up entirely a few times already.

  He zoomed in on the display, trying his best to pinpoint their location.

  “I knew we were close to the Oregon border. I can smell it. Even though it’s been years, you never forget that smell.” Jennifer held her shaking finger over the map. “See here.” She pointed at the far right corner of Oregon. “There was a town here back before we were born. It’s not there now. Nothing but bears and Creepers, but there was a storage place there, and still is. It’s not easy to find now, and it’s not easy to get into, but it’s there.”

  “What kind of storage?”

  “Chemicals, explosives, weapons. Sgt. Post had us wall off certain parts because the things stored there had become unstable, but there were a great many devices and compounds that held up. The climate systems are still working. There are endless rows of explosives, Howard. Stuff we can use to hit them where it hurts and hit them good.”

  Howard studied the crazed look in her eyes. “But there are only two of us.”

  “And more than a million of them. They’d make the perfect bombs, Howard. You do your thing while I lace them up with the gear and you move them. Move them against the army.” She coughed hard. “Even if they fall, they will still be bombs. We lay a net around the field. We move them and we fucking hit them and end this. The tech still works. We used it in the field all the time. It’s simple to use. A couple of wires, a detonator, and a switch. I need to be close, but by myself I can hide. When the time is right . . . boom! They won’t know what hit them.”

  It all made sense to him then, with her whole unrealistic plan exposed. He knew what she wanted all along, but he’d been silently hoping for another way. Practicing wasn’t enough. He couldn’t handle a horde of his own. It wasn’t possible. “I . . . I can’t. We’ve been through this. A few here and there keep me out of commission for days. I can’t even think about that many. About all those voices. All those images. Jennifer, I can’t do that . . . open myself up to that.”

  “You can,” she said, kissing him. “You will.” She kissed him again. “You were brave enough to test me, brave enough to kill, and brave enough to save me. I’d say you’re more than capable.” She hugged him, ran her fingers through his hair, and kissed him again.

  Howard pulled her tight against his chest. He searched her face for answers that didn’t exist, for reassurances he knew would never come. There were only cold hard facts there. He’d signed up for it. Offered himself to the task, and now he had to commit, and he would, but somewhere deep down he knew he would not survive this.

  Jennifer drew her fingers along his cheek. Cupping his face in one hand, she kissed him good and long. The wind picked up, scattering pine needles about them. Rain began to fall, pattering on the already soaked earth. She straddled him, undoing his belt and clumsily fumbling with her own.

  “Let me,” Howard whispered. He rolled them both over gently, careful to avoid her wound, and shielded her from the rain. Cold rivulets ran down the backs of his thighs as he entere
d her. She moaned, pulling him closer, and for a moment all of what was to come was forgotten. They made love to the sound of falling rain.

  They fell into the act, fell into each other, and the world fell away until only raw emotion remained. The tension of their world was overridden by the sensations of pure humanity. Together they released all that weighed them down, thrusting and grinding until they lay there panting, hoping their racing hearts wouldn’t explode.

  After, Howard held her close and stroked her hair. Her head rested on his chest as he watched the thick gray clouds roll by. He felt that giddiness again as he listened to her breathe. For the first time in many days, she was breathing even, almost easy, but she felt warm. The fever had returned. She stirred, smiling in the throes of some dream. Her legs entwined with his.

  Howard didn’t want it to end. He wanted to lay there with her forever. He wanted to forget about the world and just be with her. A Creeper entered his effective range, flickering in his mind, jarring him from the moment. No matter how good he felt, he’d never be able to escape them, to escape that intrusion as long as they survived, as long as he continued to let them exist.

  He’d never thought of them like that before. He always viewed them with pity, a measure of sorrow about their fate, but never anger. So much had changed in such a short time, but wasn’t it always like that? They’d gone from a colony of survivors to a few . . . to two, and then one. The ever changing face of the world his father called it.

  “Kiss me,” Jennifer whispered. He could barely make out the features of her face in the low light. Shadows danced all around them as the rain continued to land softly. He kissed her, kissed her forehead, hugged her tight.

  “We can go somewhere,” Howard said, but he wished the words back as soon as they left his mouth.

  “No, Howard, they are my somewhere. They’re all I have left and I won’t leave them to die . . . or worse. Even if it kills me.”

  “What if it kills me?”

  “That’s your choice. Don’t put that on me.”

  “I wasn’t trying to. I was hoping my charms could sway you.” Howard hugged her again. He didn’t want to let her go, couldn’t let her go, not yet. “Truthfully, I was being a little selfish. This is all new to me.”

  Jennifer laughed. “You mean you’re…”

  “What?” Howard looked in her direction, knowing the shadows hid a giant smile. He could hear it in her tone. “No, not at all,” he said, a little embarrassed.

  Jennifer laughed again. “It’s okay.”

  “There was a girl. Tabitha . . . she was like me. My sister, but not of my father or mother, but my sister. She was around my age. This was years ago, when we still had numbers, before she left with some of the others and a group from the outside. That’s how it was. We’d play together, sometimes for years, motherless, but we had each other and my father, and the other men. And, and sometimes it went on and on and it was fun, and we never wanted it to end.”

  “It’s okay, Howard, I’m sorry . . . I didn’t know.” Jennifer snuggled closer.

  “You didn’t know. We didn’t know. I mean we did, but we never thought it would happen. The world was crazy, people didn’t make it. We’d all stay together forever. But nothing lasts, Jennifer, nothing ever lasts.

  “Tabitha and I would run the corridors. We’d steal cigarettes and booze. We tried to forget what might happen, but knew in the back of our minds it would come. It always did. We’d have a party the night before a departure. And, well, we made sure that we’d never forget each other.”

  “Is she. . .”

  “I don’t know . . . They’re all out there, or were, somewhere. Dad put them in here, their locations. Maybe when this is all done, maybe. . . I don’t know, I don’t know anymore.” Howard held her for a while without a word. Tears ran down his cheeks. He grieved silently for those that had gone on before him. Now it was his turn. The last to leave, and what a mess he’d gotten himself into. Yet, he felt only that it was worth it no matter the outcome. He’d found her.

  Her breathing became steady for awhile, calm and even as the night engulfed them. Howard could not sleep. Somewhere in the darkness, a new Creeper had entered his range. He tried to block the images, but he’d been drifting off in thought, dreaming of what might be if they just ran away. He envisioned how they would live, the kind of place they’d call home. Then the emotions and pain and unending torment hit him full force. Hunger so much deeper than the normal Creeper craving, and not for human flesh. Whatever had happened, it died extremely hungry when it was human.

  Howard felt that painful hunger as if it were his own. It held for a moment then passed, only to come rushing back again. He was nauseous and starving, but even thinking about quelling the hunger made him want to vomit. The back and forth threatened to undo him as many such encounters had before . . . Pipa, Pipa, Pipa, echoed in his mind. Howard wanted to scream. He concentrated on Jennifer’s warmth and the waves. The hunger began to lessen, falling and fading until it was gone, and the Creeper was silent in his mind.

  He was getting better.

  If he concentrated on one thing, he was able to block the noise, but could he do it from the start without the sudden empathic rush?

  The question lingered there with no clear answer. The rush had always been there. In the early years when he was just a child, he remembered crying. His father would ask him what was wrong and he never had a straight answer. He was too young. He didn’t even know or understand what he was seeing, what he was hearing, in some cases. He lacked the experience to catalog them, but as he grew and as his father educated him, they began to make sense, horrific sense. How could he stop it?

  “I can feel your heart race when you communicate with them,” Jennifer said. “I can feel your body tense. What is it like?”

  “Like every painful memory you have floods your mind at once.”

  Jennifer coughed then winced from the shock to her wound. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m learning to deal with it, but it’s the initial contact that is the hardest. Like a blow to the head. If I could stop that, this might work.”

  She pressed herself tighter against him. The rain stayed steady, and somewhere behind the clouds, cold stars blanketed oblivion. “Be somewhere else in your mind.”

  “That would work if I could see them as I approached, but that’s not always the case. It’s the ones I can’t see. Like lights suddenly coming on in a long dark hallway. Like land mines really, exploding inside my head. I can’t be somewhere else at times like that.”

  “Sure you can,” Jennifer said, a little out of breath. “Ugh this wound is kicking my ass. You can, Howard. You can be somewhere else. When we’d fight, it was rarely on our terms. Post . . . all of us . . . we’d get in these sudden skirmishes. Hordes, wild people, cultists . . . always someone, but in those flashes of violence, I learned to be somewhere else. At least the part of me that was afraid. If I allowed myself to be fully aware . . . I’d have . . . never made it.” She coughed. Her heart raced.

  “Jennifer.”

  “It’s okay. The fuck was worth it.” She laughed. “Definitely worth it. Just took a bit out of me.”

  “More than a bit. You should rest.”

  “No, you need to hear this. Some shooters would count, or fall into breathing exercises. None of that shit ever worked for me. But one thing did.”

  “What?”

  “It’s silly, but when the shit hit the fan . . . I’d start to build a house in my head. I’d think about the foundation, adding walls, windows, all that crap we never had, all that crap the older guys talked about, just kept adding it while I fired my gun, while I killed, and it worked. I was there . . . reacting . . . but I was . . . somewhere else. You just have to find your home, Howard.”

  Jennifer shuddered then drifted off again. Her frantic heart beat became steady as the night carried on.

  “You are my home,” Howard said, kissing her lightly on top of the head. He allowed himse
lf to drift off as well. He went to sleep thinking of Jennifer and the life they’d have together, of the home they’d have when all the killing was done and the world was clean once more.

  CHAPTER 15

  Baylor gauged the distance to the far end of the lush green valley, added just the right amount of coal, and set the beast at a crawl. He snapped his revolver open, loading it with the blood-covered bullets. He draped the dead man’s bandolier over his purple coat and headed to the roof.

  The desert had fallen away in pieces. A few brave bits of green here and more there, but then, after miles of brush fighting the creep of the sands, an explosion of nature. Pines and oaks and tall grass untouched by man for decades dominated the valley. A light gray rain fell and the wind drifted coolly through the bend in the world. It was one of the most beautiful things Baylor had ever seen, and he’d been this way many times before, but this time everything was right. The grayish cloak, the rain, the wind—it all fit so perfectly, like a piece of art from the old world viewed in just the right light, but they ruined the image for him.