“I heard moaning and growling,” I aid to her as I sat up, leaning heavily into the doorframe. “I thought one of them things got in here. I didn’t see you, and I thought you might be in trouble.”
“Like I said,” Abigail smiled at me, kneeling down by my side, “a fool trying to be a hero.”
She looked at my leg, and I winced, drawing in a sharp breath as she touched it. She laughed a little, and turned away towards the nearby table.
“Well,” she said a mocking tone in her voice, “I shot you. Lucky you move pretty quickly, only a few pellets actually hit ya.”
“Abigail, really, only a few pellets?” I asked, astonished. “Feels like more.”
She came back to me with a bottle of alcohol and a rag in her hands. She dumped a liberal amount on the fabric, and then knelt down on one knee, looking me dead in the eyes, her own blue ones holding laughter in them. She smiled a little smirk, and then spoke once more.
“Stand up,” she said, motioning with the rag, “and drop your pants. I need to clean it off, see if there are any of the pellets still in there.”
“Umm…” I said suddenly very self conscious.
“What? You shy or something?”
“I’m not wearing any underwear,” I said simply. A laugh tore out of her mouth, and her shoulders shook when she tried to contain it. Without the bulky armor from the night before, I saw that she was slight of build, but she held an air of strength.
I stood and started to undo my belt, looking around the room to try and keep my mind off of the fact she was so close to me. My eyes fell on the bed that dominated the room, and the man laying there.
I could tell at one time that he was a larger man, but sickness had desiccated him to a mere shadow of his old self. A long beard adorned his face, and both it and his hair were well kept though. Obviously Abigail took very good care of him, despite the current situation. There were a handful of oxygen tanks near the bedside, and quite a few pill bottles on the bedside table. He wore a mask, meant to help him breathe, and I could hear the hiss of the gas in the quiet. Every so often, a small moan would escape him, and he would move a little. When he did, Abigail would stop working on my leg and look over, a look of concern, and love, on her face.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked her.
“Lung cancer,” she answered bluntly. “It's the result of him smoking for forty years and owning a bar for twenty.”
“He’s lucky to have, OW!” I hollered as she pulled a pellet out of my leg, and then followed it by slapping the rag down on the wound. She began wrapping it with thin gauze, placing a small bandage over the spot before she did so.
“Like I was saying,” I began again, “he’s lucky to have you. Most would have left him, went their own way.”
“Most did,” she replied. “You’re done. Pull them up.”
I did as was told to, and when no further words were offered, looked at her questioningly.
“I’m the youngest,” she began. “Two of my sisters were here when all this began. They both left with the evacuation. I couldn’t leave him alone, and he wouldn’t leave the bar.”
She shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the bed’s edge. Reaching over, Abigail placed a hand on her father’s forehead, rubbing it gently with her thumb. The look in her eyes wrenched my heart. I don’t think I had seen so much affection in a long time. I walked over and placed my hands on the bed knob at the foot of the bed, leaning on it gently.
“How long does he have, if you don't mind me asking?” I asked, letting the question hang in the air.
She sighed at my question, her mouth twisting into the mockery of a smile, and shrugged her shoulders.
“Don’t rightly know,” she told me. “Doctor’s gave him six months. That was two years ago. So could be a month from now, could be tomorrow, could be ten minutes from now. All I know is I’m going to be here for him when the time does come.”
“What are you going to do after that?” I asked her after a few moments of tense silence.
“I do not know.” She replied.
We both sat there for awhile, neither of us speaking, her rubbing her father’s forehead, me with my own lowered, thinking. I did not quite know what to say. I wanted to help this poor girl, but I had to get home. It seemed wrong to just leave her though, to leave her with no options and no hope. I knew she wouldn’t leave her father, and that I would not ask of her, so I finally decided on a course of action.
“Look,” I said to her, pulling her from her own revelry. “You seem capable of handling yourself; my leg is testimony to that. I must get back to my home, to my family. When the time comes, go to the hospital. There’s a group of survivors there, good people.”
“Hospital?” she asked, looking at me once more.
“Yes,” I replied. “There is a small doorway set into a concrete wall this side of the river, straight through the woods from here. You’ll go across a small parking lot. Once you enter the door, you’ll bee in a corridor. Go straight down it, and it will end at the elevator shaft. Go up to the fourth floor and follow another passage that you find. Once you are out of it, find the large doors and knock. Ask for Wall or Doc Mc Layton. Tell them I sent you. They’ll take you in, of that I’m sure.”
“Are you leaving then?” she asked me.
“I have to,” I replied. “The sooner I get there the better. Chances are that they aren’t there anyhow, but I have to try.”
Speaking those words caused the futility of my journey set in all at once. It had been almost a year since I walked out of our house and went looking for my dog. Almost a year since I last saw my family. The reality of it all hit me like a smack in the face, and I shook my head, tears coming to my eyes. The chances that my family were still at our house was slim at best, that they were all still alive even more so.
Regardless, I had to know.
20.
I stood at the doorway to the bar a little while later, Abigail beside me, looking outside to see if there was any dead nearby. Seeing none, I hefted my pack, now more than a few pounds heavier due to the food she had supplied me with. The early afternoon sun shone down, and, thanks to the set of reading glasses she had given me also, I could see much better. Neither of us spotted any of the creatures, but both of us knew that that meant nothing.
“Sure I can’t change your mind?” she asked me, holding out a small .22 that she had offered me earlier. I waved it away, feeling a little bad for the things she had gave me already, things I would probably never be able to repay her for. Then she gave me her coat, the reinforced leather, which would leave her more or less defenseless if she were to be attacked.
“I’m okay,” I told her. “I never really liked guns.”
“All right,” she said, smiling a little. “I wont jinx you by saying be careful. I do hope you find what you are looking for though. I hope they’re safe.”
“Thank you Abigail.” I said to her.
She nodded and opened the door, once more wishing me luck. I stepped out into the sun, and while I was looking around once more, I heard the doorway shut behind me, then the sound of the heavy bolt being thrown. I looked back only once before setting off, and saw her raise her hand in a farewell gesture, then she was gone.
I was alone yet again.
I knew the path I needed to travel, and went around to the back of the bar to be on my way. The woods behind the bar connected to the ones not far from my home, and I planned on cutting straight through. I came around the southeast edge of the building, and then jerked back quickly. There was a couple of dead lurking over by the other end of the lot. I watched for a minute, and when I was satisfied that they were looking the other way, I quickly, and quietly, made my way across the small stretch of parking space and into the woods.
I was instantly relieved, the trees blocking most of the noonday suns light. I waited but bare moments, allowing my eyes to adjust and making sure the things a little ways away didn’t notice me. Alec was right about them. If th
e creatures did not see you, or hear you, they didn’t know you were there at all. It gave me a slight advantage, because even at my size, I could move rather quietly. I was always sneaking up on my kids, scaring them, and one time even my own mother.
I tarried only for a moment, then turned and made for my home.
21.
An hour and a half is what it took for me to get through those woods. I did not realize it when I sat out, but the straightest path would have required me to cut straight across the river. I had forgotten just how much the Vermillion bent and twisted through our area. So I skirted it, going a little out of my way, and ended up coming out on Oakwood Avenue, maybe half a mile from my home. As I sat there though, crouched amongst the bushes on the tree line, watching for danger, I made the decision that it would be safer for me to skirt the woods, going through the few yards that were there to make it back home.
So that is what I had done.
I was walking through the parking space of a church right around the corner from my house when I heard it. There, off to my right, it came, starting as a low noise and then escalating to a full blown, ear shattering roar. My blood instantly froze, and sweat broke out over my body. I looked over to the church, and could hear crashing inside. I know not if it was the adrenaline, fear, or whatever else that had taken over, but when I heard that roar and the crashing that followed, my body unfroze, and I was off in a flash. My legs pumping as hard as they could, I sped across the lot, not daring to even take the chance of looking back to see if I was being chased. I was lucky that nothing was between me and my house though; I wasn’t really paying the attention I should have been to where I was going. I did have the foresight to head down the tracks to the rear of my home, figuring the front would be less safe.
I raced down the hill into my back yard, and heard, much clearer this time, the feral, demonic roar of one of the ravenous. I looked to my home, relief flooding over me, and made towards the back door. I swung it open and dashed inside, it never occurring to me until much later that it had stood open a little bit.
The large window had been boarded up good, the glass no longer there. I shut it and threw the bolt lock, then, slightly shocked upon seeing the other three that had never been there before, threw them too. I tried to slow my breathing, trying to calm myself, and watched out of a small crack in the boards. It only took a second for the creature to make its appearance. It loped across the yard, reminding me of some great ape, stopping every so often to look around.
The thing made its way to mere feet of the doorway, and the smell of death wafted through the air with it. At one point it had been a man, and was donned with nice clothing. I know not if it had been a member of the cloth, or a parishioner of the church, but I had a sudden vision of the whole congregation gathering to pray against the coming darkness, and then that same demonic force descending upon them in their sanctuary.
Where’s your God now? I thought to myself, looking at this decrepit creature.
The thing was so close now. If I would have opened the door and reached out, I could have touched him. It dropped to the ground, arms and legs bent at odd angles, allowing for its face to skim the concrete of my walkway. Its blackish ichors dripped freely from its open maw, and I noticed a few bright red spots that dotted the pavement. I looked down suddenly to my leg, only then remembering that I had been wounded only hours before. Red stained my pants leg, and I could see the bandage underneath was wet with my blood. Once more I started to panic, remembering Alec’s words that the ravenous could track by smell as good as any bloodhound.
He made it to the door, only inches of wood separating me from it. My heart beat in my chest like a drum, and I feared that he could not only smell me, but hear that sound as well. The thing was so close to the door, the smell so overpowering, that I had to consciously control my gag reflex, it threatened to escape me, disgorging what little contents my stomach held in it. I could hear the creatures sniffing through the door, and I held my place, fearful that the thing would see the movement through he tiny crack in the wood.
Then, to my great surprise, I watched the man shake his head, like it had smelled something that had not agreed with him. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! The man shook his head more than once, violently, and I heard what I believed to be sneezing. I still had not moved, and sat there, my attention rapt. He did this for only a few moments, then vomited a small amount of that ichor up onto my sidewalk, roared fiercely into the sky, and vanished.
I didn’t move for moments longer, until I was sure that the thing was gone, then I slumped back onto the floor of my back porch, letting go of my held breath. I sat there, mainly just trying to calm myself, but partly trying to steady myself for what was coming next. I wanted to prepare myself for what I was going to find in the house. I sat for a few more minutes, then opened my eyes and looked up towards the kitchen door.
I found myself looking right at a bright line of blood, or rather, many lines.
The glass of the kitchen door was streaked with red, and it only took a few seconds for me to realize that it was a handprint, smeared along the glass. I jumped to my feet in an instant, my pack sliding to the floor, and my knife finding its way comfortably into my hand. Placing my hand next to the print on the glass, I estimated the size. It was smaller than my hand, but not by much. There was no possible way it could be one of my kids, and my beloveds, Crystal, hands were thinner than this one. It could only mean that someone had gotten inside.
I swung the door open and stepped inside, the quiet engulfing me.
22.
Nothing could be heard, and I instantly knew that no one, at least living, was here. Still, probably due to habit, maybe desperation, I called out.
“Baby, are you here?” I said softly, “Kids?”
No answer.
I looked around our small kitchen. Everything was in disarray. Dishes were scattered around the whole room, and the refrigerator was hanging open. It was pretty empty, and so was the pantry. I felt my heart sink, but I did not know for sure what had happened, so I took a deep breath to steady myself and continued on my way. I had only taken one step when my foot slipped out from under me, and I hit the ground flat on my back hard. It took a few for my breath to return to me, and I saw that it was blood that I had slipped in, a large pool of it right near the small table we used to prepare food on. The table itself had been overturned, and, laying there on the floor, directly in front of me, was a head.
I panicked and tried to stand up, but only succeeded in sliding in the blood, eventually ending up with my back against the cabinet under the sink. I hit the wood with a thud, closing the small door at the same time. I sat there, panting, looking at the disembodied head for some time. I did not recognize it, but was relieved that it was not part of my family.
Melancholy sat in then, for if anyone had been in the house, they surely would have heard my fall.
I got to my feet, throwing another quick look at the head, staring back at me with glazed eyes, and turned to check the rest of the house.
Everything was in disarray. My family’s belongings were thrown about the rooms, clothes and small objects littering the floor. There was little evidence that anyone had been here for some time, but I did not let it deter me in my search. I took off the glasses Abigail had let me borrow and sat them on the computer desk, opening my junk drawer. There, sitting on top of everything, was a small envelope. I picked it up, setting it aside for a moment, and dug into the drawer for my spare glasses. When I found them, I put them on and felt relief in my head instantly. Once more I picked up the envelope that I had previously sat aside, and saw that it had a smiley face drawn on it. Seeing the small face made me smile. Just that small thing made me know that, at some point recently, my baby was still alive. I tore the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside. It was a note from my beloved. A set of keys, two small Master lock keys, an older Plymouth key, and a key that I couldn’t identify, were also enclosed. Tears came to my eyes as I r
ead it.
“Eddy,
“I know that you have been safe and at the hospital. I know one of your first stops once you get out would be at home. Don’t worry, everyone is fine. I have the kids and am taking them all to my parents. And yes, Seth is with me too. You know where to find me. I have left some things here in the bedroom for you. Me and the kids put together some things and left them here for your protection in case you wake up. I put together something else for you as well before things got too bad. Enclosed are the keys. I am assuming you came in through the back door. I would also like for you to push play on the remote I left on the desk before you head out the front door. Just point it out the bay window in the front room and wait a couple of minutes. It will distract them.
“I love you and I promise that I will do anything and everything to keep the kids safe. If for any reason we have to leave and are no longer at my parents’ house, I will trust in the fact you know me well enough to follow my clues I leave behind and join with us soon. Keep yourself safe and come back to us. I love you.
“Crystal
“P.S. Please remember to STAY OUT OF THE BASEMENT! Do not let your curiosity get the best of you. “
So there it was; I had found out that my family was alive. At least they were a couple of months ago. I should have known she would have gone to her parent’s house, she had said that numerous times when we talked about things like this. Why she didn’t go with the soldiers during the evacuation I didn’t know, it would have provided more safety for her and the kids. I understood why she left me, and held no grudge for it. Coming for me would have just got her killed, and at that point there was no guarantee that I would have awaken anyways.
I folded the letter up, and reaching once more into my drawer, retrieved my wallet. Placing the note alongside the pictures of my family, I shoved the billfold into my back pocket and turned to locate the things she said she had left for me. I looked around the top of the desk for the remote she mentioned, and, not seeing it, wondered at that point of the letter. Then I saw it, a small car alarm remote, shoved part way up under the small cubby to the right. I picked it up and smiled, only guessing at what it would do. I glanced out the large window, now partly boarded up, and did not see anything out of the ordinary. Well, other than the dozen or so dead stumbling around my line of sight.
My Apocalypse (Book 1): The Fall Page 7
