by Tom Reinhart
Looking forward I could see the feet of the second Judge land at the far end of the bridge. Just as he began to walk towards my direction, there was a loud thud and the car I was under shifted violently on its rusting shocks. The Judge that had grabbed Margie had landed on top of the car and was standing just above me. I felt the fear begin to rise within me. My sweat fell into little puddles on the concrete and I held my breath without even realizing it. The car rocked again as the Judge jumped off and onto the next one. He moved from car top to car top, while the other Judge walked in between them, crossing the bridge in my direction. They were searching for me. I could feel a bug crawling on the back of my neck. Steve sobbed and moaned on the road below, his sounds mixing in with several of the maledicted that crawled and dragged themselves alongside of him.
For a moment I thought about just coming out and ending it. I was alone now, and that made me more afraid than I had ever been. What was I going to do? Keep running? Keep hiding? What if I ended up like Steve? Perhaps if I just gave in, if I just surrendered to the inevitable, my judging would go well and I would end up with Margie in Heaven. I felt the bug now crawling down my back underneath my shirt. I heard Steve calling out my name as I began to slide out from under the car.
I’m done. I’m just fucking done with this.
Several gunshots suddenly erupted from somewhere up the road, towards the gas station. I saw a car several yards away rock on its springs, and the second Judge’s feet suddenly lift off the bridge. The flapping of their wings faded slowly into the distance.
Standing in the middle of the bridge, the only Judge I saw was the one smashed into the concrete column. The other two were far down the road, chasing the sounds of gunfire.
I can’t even die when I want to.
Steve was still yelling from below. Suddenly I heard the sound of a car door creaking, and the several bangs it took to pry it open. Looking over the side of the bridge, I saw a man crawling out of the passenger side of the wrecked car. He was a middle aged man, with a long ragged beard and the clothes of a mountain man. I called out to him, waving my arms up in the air. “Hey! Up here!”
He looked around in several directions before finally seeing me. Facing me I could see the blood running down his face from his forehead. He gave an attempt to wave back before collapsing to his knees. I quickly turned and raced to the edge of the bridge, past the crushed angel, and down the embankment towards the car. As I reached the road below, the man had gotten up again and moved to the driver’s side door, attempting to pull the woman’s body out from inside. “Is she alive?” I asked as I approached.
“I don’t know. Help me, please.”
Rushing to his side, I supported her weight as he unbuckled her seatbelt. She collapsed into my arms as the restraint released. She didn’t move at first, but as we laid her down upon the grass beside the road she began to moan and reach for her throat. The bearded man began frantically talking to her. “Evelyn! Evelyn, are you alright? Are you hurt? Evelyn, look at me!”
I saw the woman open her eyes, and it appeared as though she tried to speak but could not. I could see on the front of her throat a huge welt and bruise rising up. It seemed she had hit her throat on the steering wheel. Slowly, and clearly in a lot of pain, she tried to sit up. “Easy girl,” the man urged, “take it easy.”
They were both in bad shape. He was bleeding heavily from a knot on his head and cuts on his arm. She had a nasty injury to her throat and a several other bruises and bleeding cuts.
The woman kept clutching her throat, every attempt to speak or swallow causing her severe pain. “Can you walk?” I asked her. She looked at me for a second, but with a dazed and confused look in her eyes. “I think she has a concussion,” I told the man. He continued to hold her in a seated position, doing his best to attend to her wounds.
Steve’s calling pulled my attention away, back towards the wreck. I saw him now between the upside down car and the bridge. He was dragging himself towards us, not far behind him was a writhing pile of maledicted. “Wait here,” I told the man, and I walked over towards Steve.
Steve was a horrible vision of mangled person. His back and leg were broken. Half his face and head were skinned raw as if he had been caught between the ground and the car and dragged along underneath it. His bleeding was slowing, his skin growing pale gray, giving the impression he had already almost bled out. As I knelt down beside him, he tried to speak, but his missing teeth and broken jaw made his speech awkward.
“Help me,” I think he said.
“I don’t know what to do Steve. I don’t know what to do.”
Leaning on one elbow, he grabbed my leg with his other arm. In his eyes I could see the pain, the fear, and the pleading. He seemed to know the plight he was in, doomed to lie there with the maledicted until bugs and wild animals completely ate him away. He didn’t have to speak any more. I knew what he needed.
I can’t even shoot him in the head. It won’t kill him.
Our eye contact lingered for several more painful moments. Steve released my leg and went limp on the ground, crying. With a broken hand he began making a motion for me to go away, to leave him to his fate. Pangs of guilt stabbed into me at the thought of abandoning him, of walking away from this while he could not.
I kneeled beside him for a few minutes, not wanting to leave, but not knowing how to help alleviate his suffering. In a half daze I stared at the puddle of water growing around our feet. I watched the ripples run along the asphalt as the puddle spread, so lost in thought I hadn’t noticed the smell burning my nose.
Puddle? Smell? Wait. That’s fucking gasoline.
My daze quickly cleared and I looked to the wrecked car, its fuel tank spilling its contents out onto the roadway. The stream of gasoline had been flowing steadily down the road, right past Steve and under the bridge. Steve began to try to pull himself out of the puddle, the fuel now stinging his raw skin. But the puddle had grown wide, and Steve’s damaged body could barely move. I quickly turned and looked back to where Margie had been. There on the slope of the embankment lay her backpack, not far from the hatchet. I knew then what to do.
I walked over near the man and the woman. “What’s your name?” I asked him.
“JD. This is my daughter, Evelyn.”
“Alright JD, we need to move her away from here. Get her up the embankment. I’m about to torch this whole damn mess down here and put these people out of their misery”
The man looked surprised for a second, and then looked towards the wrecked car and the maledicted under the bridge. He looked at me and nodded, understanding. I watched for a moment as he helped the girl up the slope, and then I went to Maggie’s backpack. I rummaged around in it for a few moments, fearing there were no flares left. It was amazing how much crap she had managed to jam into the pack. Some clothes, beef jerky, an old box of tampons, an unopened can of peaches, and at the bottom of the bag, under a heavily read bible, I found one last flare.
There would be no long goodbyes, no contemplation. There was no point. A quick look to make sure JD and the girl were out of the way, and I popped the flare and tossed it in one continuous motion. It arced through the air and landed in the puddle of fuel midway between the upside down car and the bridge. The fire spread in both directions instantly, and underneath the car I could see the flames rising up towards the gas tank. Now near empty and full of only explosive fumes, I knew it was likely to explode at any moment. I grabbed Maggie’s backpack and began quickly walking towards JD, trying to put some distance between myself and the burning wreck.
For a few moments I could hear the desperate screams of the burning maledicted. Even in dead bodies, part of their curse was to feel every bit of pain associated with their condition, and through gurgled rotted throats I could hear their suffering. But at least I knew this would end that suffering quicker for them, and just at the moment when I thought I could hear Steve’s screams above the rest, the wrecked car exploded. A thunderous boom erupted behind
me, and some of the screams of the burning maledicted went silent. There were still others, but I knew they would go silent soon as they were consumed in the flames. I couldn’t hear Steve anymore.
JD had his daughter seated leaning against a tree, tending to her wounds. I could see her trying to speak, but she would grimace and stop, like a kid who just had his tonsils taken out. I set the backpack down and kneeled beside them. “She took a hit in the throat really bad but I don’t think her neck is broken. Maybe this collarbone here.” He pointed towards her left shoulder and I could see a knot growing right where a bone looked strangely out of place.
“I’ve got a place about a mile from here, you can come back there with me if you’d like,” I told him.
JD looked at me for a moment as if trying to figure out if he could trust me. Then he looked back towards the bridge and up at the sky, scanning for Judges. “We haven’t anywhere else to go. We were good for a while at a trailer park up the road, then suddenly this morning the place was swarming with angels. We had to take off in the car to try to get away.”
“Well, it’s just me now,” I told him, “I’d rather not be alone to be honest. I’m sure we could help each other. At least let your daughter heal up some.”
JD nodded and began helping his daughter to her feet. “We best be moving then. I’m sure it won’t be long before those things come back around here, or the smoke from the fire brings others.”
I briefly walked back towards the edge of the embankment to retrieve Margie’s hatchet. I couldn’t help but glance down towards the burning bodies under the bridge. I could see Steve, burning but still moving. All I could do was pray that the fire consumed him before it went out, and I walked away, never looking back again.
Godspeed my friend. May God have mercy on you. I’m sorry.
The walk back to the farm was slow going but uneventful. Evelyn seemed to slowly recover to the point she could walk ok, she just couldn’t speak. They both eagerly accepted the food and water I offered them, although I had to pick out things Evelyn was able to swallow, like apple sauce and jars of baby food. They seemed surprised at the amount of supplies Margie, Steve and I had collected and stored. I got the impression that things had not gone as well for JD as it had for us. I didn’t ask too many questions though. Everyone’s story was similar, and it just didn’t matter.
Several days went by before we ventured out again. JD and Evelyn spent a few days just tending to their wounds and recovering. On several mornings angels had passed close by and several seemed to be searching houses nearby. It was clear that if we didn’t absolutely need to go out, we shouldn’t.
JD seemed to have developed an infection in a cut on his elbow from the wreck, and Evelyn had completely run me out of pain killers and aspirin trying to keep her throat under control. There came a morning where JD and I decided a medicine run was becoming necessary, so we gathered up some packs and weapons, locked Evelyn into the house, and went to search the surrounding farm houses.
Margie and I had already visited most of them, and although we had gathered a great many things from them, I knew there was still more to be had. Margie and I had agreed that we should leave loot in other houses so long as we knew where it was. If we had taken it all and stockpiled it just in our house, and then had to abandon it in an emergency, we would lose it all at once. Leaving our options open made much more sense.
Leaving Evelyn behind, JD and I ventured out in the early morning, I guessed around 8am. We kept our packs light, carrying only what we minimally needed. I took my Louisville Slugger, preferring the longer reach of the bat over the much more up close and personal nature of Margie’s hatchet. JD seemed to have a fondness for an old rusty tire iron. We agreed we would be quick, stay close, and get back as soon as possible.
JD seemed nervous about leaving Evelyn alone, saying that before when they were in the trailer park she had gone with him everywhere, they had never separated. In her condition though she was better off resting, and a larger group of us was only something more easily spotted by Judges. The fewer and the quicker, the better.
Heading east across the corn fields, we skipped the closest farm house because I knew Steve and Margie had pretty much cleaned that one out. We headed for the next one, tall corn fields providing us cover for most of the way. Once we came to the edge and the land cleared, we could see the next house just about a half mile across an open meadow. We paused for a moment to scan the sky for Judges, and saw none. We did notice a couple of maledicted staggering around far off on the other side of the farm, but at the moment they didn’t seem like anything to be too concerned about.
We hurried across the meadow without incident and entered the house. Standing just inside the doorway, we made some noise, knocking and calling out to see if there were any maledicted inside. When no signs of life or death came back from the empty rooms, our scavenging began. We split up, methodically searching each room. JD headed straight for the bathrooms and their medicine cabinets, searching for the items we had primarily come for. Any forms of aspirin, painkillers, and antibiotics would make this trip a success.
One of the bedrooms had a closet full of a girl’s clothes, and they appeared to be similar to Evelyn’s size. I thought some new clothes might bring a smile to her face. It’s funny how the small things matter in a world like this now. I was becoming fond of Evelyn, and I think it was mutual. We had been spending quite a lot of time together, and while she couldn’t speak she was a great listener. She would write on a notepad and ask me things and I would tell her stories about my life. She seemed truly interested. Late at night while JD slept, we would hang out together playing cards or a board game. Once we had fallen asleep together in the living room and JD had found us that way in the morning, but hadn’t said anything.
It was nice to have a woman’s companionship, especially since Margie was gone. I guess it’s a need built into human DNA that is always there no matter what your surroundings. Evelyn wasn’t like Margie though. Margie and I felt like a brother and sister, but with Evelyn, this was becoming something more.
Having searched my half of the house thoroughly, I called out to JD to tell him I was going to check the basement. Basements were always a good place to find tools, weapons, batteries and other useful items. He acknowledged from a closet somewhere, and I passed through the living room heading for the basement door in the hallway. Glancing out the front windows I noticed several more maledicted in the yard. There were more than before, and they were closer to the house. “We shouldn’t stay too much longer JD,” I called to him, “there’s maledicted in the yard.”
His voice was faint and I could barely hear him, but I thought he said “Ok.”
The basement door was wedged shut, as if moisture in the air had swollen the wood and warped the frame. It took several strong pulls to pry it open, and when it opened it was so sudden I almost fell backwards. With the morning sun becoming higher and brighter, there was enough light coming in through the basement windows to allow me to see as I began down the steps. This particular basement was full of junk, from piles of boxes to pieces of furniture. It looked as though someone had moved here from a larger house and had nowhere else to put half of their belongings. I was fairly sure Margie and I had never been in this one before.
I slowly worked my way through the maze of other people’s lives looking for anything useful. I opened a few boxes and found the usual junk; a lot of old papers, a high school yearbook, some photos and knick knacks. Moving further into the basement I saw a blanket and a dusty pillow on the floor beside a photo album. Scattered all around these were empty food cans and candy wrappers. A little further away in a dark corner appeared to be a bucket filled with old toilet paper. Someone had tried to hide out down here for a while.
I knelt down and picked up the photo album and began thumbing through the pages, peaking into someone else’s life. It was a wedding album, with all the typical pictures inside. They were a young couple, she a beautiful bride and he a han
dsome groom. There were all the usual photos; the ceremony, the kiss, the cake cutting. For a brief moment it reminded me of my own wedding. I thought of my wife, and suddenly remembered that she was now clawing at the inside of a coffin. I fought to erase the visual from my mind.
I heard JD coming down the steps of the basement. “You ready to go?” I asked before I had actually turned to see him. It wasn’t JD that answered me, but the gurgling screams of an insane maledicted. I quickly turned to see the walking corpse take the last step into the basement and come rushing towards me. It was an old woman, well into the decomposition process, and completely insane from the brain rot. She lunged towards me, fighting and stumbling through the piles of boxes. I quickly grabbed my bat and swung hard at the woman’s head. It knocked her frail body down on the first hit, and I quickly headed up the steps before she could get back up.
As I came up the steps, I could hear JD fighting in the back bedroom. As I exited the basement door and entered the hallway, I ran smack into two more maledicted. One of them grabbed me immediately and we began wrestling while the other simply began screaming and banging himself into the wall next to the basement door. Pushing back against my attacker, we both fell to the floor. I could feel and hear his bones break as we hit the ground, and with little effort I was able to break free and rise to my feet, yelling out to JD as I stood.
