Aftermath

by Mark Lukens

  Kate and Brooke followed Max and Petra to the front porch. Max had explained that there was always the danger of a survivor holed up in a house or a building, shooting first and asking questions later. He kept his arms raised up a little in a gesture of surrender, but he seemed fairly sure that the house was empty. And their group of four, with the exception of Petra, probably didn’t really look like much of a threat.

  Max knocked on the front door and then moved to the side. The door had opened a little as he had knocked, the hinges creaking in the silence.

  “Hello?” Max called out. “We’re friendly. Please don’t shoot. We’ve got weapons, so please don’t shoot.”

  No one answered.

  Kate remembered the Bennetts. They were about her mom and dad’s age. They had two sons and Arianna, all older than her. Kate had had a crush on the oldest boy, Norman, for a year or two, but then she had grown out of it.

  The house was trashed, just like her parents’ house. Furniture was broken and overturned. The kitchen had been ransacked. There were a few bloodstains on the floor, a few splatters on the walls, but no bodies anywhere downstairs. There was a wide path of blood leading to the front door where it looked like bodies had been dragged outside.

  Max took off his small backpack in the kitchen and Petra motioned that she was going to check upstairs. Kate and Brooke joined Max in the kitchen, sifting through the debris on the floor. They had their gloves on, and Brooke’s dishwashing gloves were way too big for her, slipping down and nearly sliding off of her hands.

  There was paper trash among the broken dishes, broken furniture, odds and ends all over the floor, but no food. No batteries. Nothing they really needed.

  “Damn,” Max said. “This place has been completely picked over.”

  Kate nodded as she stood up, her head growing light for just a second.

  Petra came back downstairs, shaking her head. “Some blood up there. But no bodies. Nothing up there we need.”

  “We need to find something soon,” Max said. “I can’t believe the rippers took all of this stuff.”

  Kate nodded in agreement. “I can see rippers eating any food they could find, opening drinks. But they would have left the canned food.”

  “And the batteries and any medicine,” Max added.

  “Survivors did this,” Petra said. “And they must have taken the bodies out of the houses.”

  “Why would they take the bodies?” Max asked. “I can see the food and supplies, but why bother with the bodies?”

  Kate felt her heart jumping with hope. She prayed that there were some survivors in her town. And she hoped that by some miracle one of them was a member of her family. She knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but she couldn’t help it.

  “If there are other survivors in this town, we need to be cautious,” Max said.

  Kate shook her head. “I know just about everyone in this town. They’re good people. If one of them, or a few of them, has survived then they won’t be our enemies. They’ll share what they have.”

  “People change in times like these,” Petra said.

  Kate didn’t feel like battling with her right now.

  “And it might not be people from your town,” Petra added. “Could be survivors passing through.”

  “Like us,” Max said. “Someone from the next town, or the next county. And they may not be so friendly.”

  “Or it could be the Dark Angels,” Petra said.

  “I haven’t seen any of their DA symbols anywhere,” Kate said.

  Petra didn’t respond, and Kate felt a small satisfaction about that. “Let’s go check the Millers’ house,” she said.

  *

  The Millers’ house was just as trashed, and any food and supplies were gone. There were a few bloodstains on the floors and walls, but no bodies. And again, there were signs that the bodies had been dragged out of the house.

  “No food,” Petra said. “No water. No batteries. No flashlights. No toilet paper. No weapons of any kind.”

  They didn’t spend as much time at the Millers’ home as they had at the Bennetts’. They drove down the hill to the Fosters’ farm, pulling into the driveway and driving down the long gravel drive to the house and gigantic barn near it. They parked in front of the home and sat there for a moment with the SUV turned off and the windows rolled down, listening.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Max said, turning the key so he could roll the windows back up.

  They got out and stood next to the SUV.

  “You smell that?” Kate asked.

  Petra nodded with her shotgun in her hands.

  Max sniffed at the air. “Smells like something’s burning.”

  But it was more than that, Kate thought. It smelled like something had been cooked, and under that odor was the smell of rot and decay.

  “It’s coming from over there,” Petra said. “From behind the barn.”

  Kate and Brooke followed Max and Petra behind the barn, and then they all froze. There was a large pit dug into the ground, the pit filled with dozens of partially-burnt dead bodies in different stages of decay. Underneath the bodies was a blanket of ash with bits of charred bones and skulls. Many of the bodies had been eaten, pieces torn away by teeth and knives.

  “God,” Max said. “Is someone eating them?”

  “It’s the rippers,” Kate said, holding her fingers up to her nose to try to block the smell of rot and charred flesh. “Has to be.”

  “Now we know where all the rippers went to,” Petra said.

  “Don’t you move!” a voice from behind them called out, and then Kate heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped.

  CHAPTER 51

  “Don’t you move a muscle!” the woman from behind them said again. “I’ve got a shotgun aimed at you.”

  Kate thought she recognized the woman’s voice immediately. Maybe she was just logically assuming the owner of that voice lived here at the Fosters’ farm, but she swore the woman was Lisey Foster.

  “We don’t mean any harm,” Max said.

  “You keep those guns down,” the woman said.

  “Mrs. Foster,” Kate called out without turning around or moving. She had her hands raised up a little. “It’s me.” She slowly turned around with her hands still up. “It’s Kate Crawford from down the street.”

  “Katie Crawford,” Lisey whispered.

  Kate tried not to act shocked when she saw Lisey Foster. She was probably in her fifties by now, a tall and slender woman, but now so much thinner than Kate had ever seen her, nothing but bone and ropey muscle, tendons standing out like cords on her tanned arms as she held the shotgun on them. More cords lined her thin neck. Her eyes bulged bright blue in her suntanned face, her teeth still strong and white, her hair wild, the blond dye wearing away and the gray showing through. She wore a pair of baggy jeans cinched tight at the waist with a belt, and a T-shirt with a puffy vest over it.

  “I came to find my mom and dad,” Kate said. “My brother and my sister.”

  Lisey’s face crumbled in sympathy. She shook her head slightly. “I’m sorry, Katie. They’re all gone.”

  Kate knew what Lisey meant. She knew she meant dead, but for just a second she dared to believe that gone meant that they had escaped or fled. She had to know; the definition needed to be clear. “They’re dead?”

  Lisey nodded. “They all turned into rippers.”

  “Ma’am?” Max said from behind Kate and Brooke. “Do you mind lowering that shotgun? We’ve got a little girl with us. We don’t want any accidents.”

  Lisey’s eyes narrowed, shifting to Max and Petra, noticing the weapons in their hands. “You put your guns down first.”

  “We’re not going to hurt you,” Max said.

  “What are you doing here?” Lisey snapped. “What were you doing over there by those bodies?”

  “We smelled them,” Petra said. “Did you drag all of these bodies here?”

  Kate didn’t turn around to look at Max or P
etra as they questioned Lisey—she kept her eyes on Lisey the whole time. “Mrs. Foster—”

  “Lisey. You call me Lisey, Kate. You know that.”

  “Lisey, you know me. These are my friends. This is Brooke. Behind me are Max and Petra. We all found each other on the road. We were heading south to Florida, but I wanted to stop here and check on my family.”

  Lisey finally lowered the shotgun, the muscles and tendons in her arms relaxing.

  “Why are you burning them?” Kate asked. “Won’t the fire draw more rippers?”

  Lisey shrugged. “It used to. But maybe not so much anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the rippers moved on. Or maybe they’re avoiding this area now.”

  Kate wanted to ask why the rippers would be avoiding this area, but she didn’t want to spook Lisey with too many questions just yet. The woman was obviously a little crazy.

  “Are you hungry?” Lisey asked. “I’ve got some food inside.”

  “Water?” Max asked with hope.

  “I’ve got plenty of water.”

  “Yes,” Kate said. “Thank you.”

  Lisey gestured at them to follow her across the field to her house.

  Kate had been inside the Fosters’ home and barn many times as a child. The Fosters usually decorated the barn for Easter, Christmas, and Independence Day. And Harvest, which was what most of the folks celebrated around here instead of Halloween. The Christmas celebration was the biggest of the year, with a reenactment of Jesus being born in Bethlehem. A lot of weddings had been held here on their large farm.

  The first thing Kate noticed when they went through the back door into the kitchen was the food and drinks everywhere. Every space was utilized, boxes and bags stacked up on top of each other, plastic bins filled with food and supplies.

  “I’m going to need to ask you to leave your weapons here on the back porch,” Lisey said. “It will just make me feel a little better.”

  Max and Petra complied. Max left his pistol on a table and Petra leaned her shotgun up against the wall. And then they stepped inside, in as much awe as Kate was. Kate met Max’s eyes, and she could read his thoughts: This is where all the food and supplies in town went.

  “Come sit down at the dining room table,” Lisey said, walking through the kitchen, acting as if nothing was strange about the boxes of food everywhere. “I’ll make us something to eat.”

  Kate and the others followed Lisey into the formal dining room. It was mostly clear of boxes and supplies, but she saw that the living room beyond the archway had boxes and bags everywhere.

  “Please,” Lisey said, “sit down.”

  They sat down, but Lisey remained standing.

  Someone had to say it. “You’ve been going around and collecting all this stuff from people’s homes?” Kate asked.

  Lisey shrugged. “Nobody’s left now.” And then she smiled. “Let me get you some water. And then I’ll make us some supper. How’s that?”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Max said.

  Lisey darted into the kitchen. She still had her shotgun and she took it with her.

  Kate glanced at Max and Petra, then she got up and went into the kitchen.

  “What can I do to help?” Kate asked Lisey.

  Lisey poured some water into glasses from a plastic jug. She had more plastic jugs of water lined up. “You can take these glasses to your friends.”

  After Kate set the glasses of water down on the dining room table, she went back to help Lisey prepare dinner. “You need some help with this?”

  “No, no,” Lisey said, smiling. “You’re my guests. Let me tend to it.”

  Kate thought that Lisey was smiling like a lunatic. She’d always heard rumors from neighborhood kids that the Fosters were a little strange. They’d never had any children and they both came from families with a lot of money. But, even though they were generous, sometimes kids still gossiped, and kids could be cruel.

  But there was something strange in Lisey’s eyes, and in her smile. But Kate figured the woman had snapped a little over the last week and a half. Obviously she had lost her husband at some point in that time, and everyone else in town. And she had lost her mind. What was so strange about that? They’d all been traumatized to some degree or another. If you weren’t traumatized a little by the Collapse, then maybe it meant you were a little crazy to begin with.

  “I’ve got some canned raviolis,” Lisey said. “Do you think your girl would like some raviolis?”

  Kate wondered if Lisey assumed Brooke was her daughter. She didn’t correct her on it. “We’re all really hungry. Anything would be fine. And we’re so grateful.”

  Lisey kept on smiling.

  Kate helped Lisey open up cans of beef stew and a can of peas, pouring them into metal pots. Lisey went out the back door to a charcoal grill. She doused the charcoal with lighter fluid and lit a match, then she set the pots down on the fire to warm up.

  Ten minutes later Kate had helped Lisey serve the food into bowls and bring them into the dining room. She even brought a pack of cookies in for dessert. After they sat down, Max and Petra were about to dig in.

  Kate grabbed Max’s hand and Brooke’s hand. “Let’s say grace.” She looked at Lisey. “Would you say it?”

  Lisey beamed, honored to be the one to say grace. She grabbed Petra’s hand and then Max’s hand. She closed her eyes, bowing her head a little. “Lord, we thank You for the bounty You’ve supplied for us today, and we ask that You bless this food and let it nourish our bodies. We know that there aren’t many of us left, and that You’ve called the rest of them home. We hope You will call us home soon so we can all be together in Heaven. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they muttered in unison and then dug in to their food.

  “What do you mean called the rest of them home?” Petra asked, not afraid to get right to the point.

  Kate held her breath, afraid that Petra had offended Lisey in some way.

  But Lisey didn’t seem offended. She smiled at Petra. “Those rippers are just animals now. God has taken their souls out and left the bodies behind.”

  Kate was reminded of her mother’s letter, how she’d said something like that.

  “I don’t understand,” Petra said, staring at Lisey.

  “This is the Rapture,” Lisey said. “God has come and taken most of the souls back to Heaven. Those left behind will go through seven years of the Tribulation before Jesus returns to Earth.”

  Kate could see that Petra wasn’t buying Lisey’s story. But Kate found herself seeing some of the parallels in the story of the Rapture and what had happened during and after the Collapse.

  “What about the antichrist?” Max asked. “Isn’t that supposed to be part of the Rapture? And the Mark of the Beast.”

  He knew damn well it was, Kate thought. She thought that Max and Petra were purposely antagonizing Lisey. Maybe they didn’t believe in what she believed, but couldn’t they just go along with it for a little while? But what about her? She hadn’t gone along with her parents’ beliefs while growing up—she had no room to talk.

  Lisey stared at Max—she didn’t seem to have an answer for him.

  Kate thought of the Dragon and his gang of Dark Angels, who had symbols carved into their foreheads; the mark of the beast. The mark of their leader, the Dragon. A chill crept through her as she thought about it.

  “You’ve been taking the rippers out of the houses and buildings?” Petra asked, obviously still suspicious of Lisey.

  “Cleaning up our town,” Lisey corrected.

  “And then you burn them,” Max said.

  “Not at first,” Lisey answered. “First, I leave them out there to attract other rippers. The rippers can smell them. They come to eat them.”

  “Why would you want to attract rippers to your property?” Max asked.

  “To eat the dead,” she said simply.

  Nobody said anything for a moment.

  Lisey flashed that insane smile a
gain. “I poisoned the dead. We all did. So when the rippers come, they eat the poisoned meat. They wander off and die. I drag them back and poison them again, and then more of them come to eat the poisoned meat. Over and over again.”

  CHAPTER 52

  Kate met Petra’s eyes for just a second, and then she looked at Max. He had his glass of water to his lips, but he hadn’t taken another sip, frozen in the action. Kate swore she could read Max’s thoughts: Was the water poisoned? The food?

  No, not the food. Kate had watched Lisey open the cans. But she hadn’t watched every second as Lisey heated the food up in the pots on the charcoal grills. Lisey could have sprinkled something into the stew while heating it up.

  Kate knew she needed to calm down. Lisey’s revelations were a shock to all of them. They just needed to remain calm and not jump to conclusions. They needed more information.

  Lisey stirred her stew with her spoon, but she didn’t take a bite. Kate watched her, wondering if she had even eaten any of her stew yet, or drank from her glass of water beside the bowl. She couldn’t remember. She hadn’t really been paying attention. And what if Lisey had poisoned the food and water and then eaten it? Maybe Lisey was ready to join her husband and the rest of her community in the afterlife; maybe she was ready for God to take her soul.

  “How did you poison the bodies?” Kate asked, trying to sound conversational.

  “Rat poison,” Lisey answered. “Bud had a lot of it in the barn. Bags and bags of it. You know, it doesn’t take a lot to kill a human being. You’d be surprised.”

  Kate thought of her mother’s letter, how she had helped others along. Now it made sense.

  “You poisoned the people who were beginning to turn?” Kate asked, and it felt like she couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Isn’t that . . . isn’t that murder?”

  Lisey frowned like she’d just been insulted. “No. Their souls were already leaving. Killing a ripper is as much a sin as killing a rabid raccoon.”