As I turned to walk towards the bedroom, my eyes fell on my baby’s cane leaning against the wall. Its black shaft gleamed in the sunlight, and the steel dragon that adorned it, and served as its handle, shone brightly. I took a few steps towards it, and gingerly picked it up. Memories of me and my beloved flooded my mind, and I felt a lump in my throat. I twisted the handle, and smiled at the sound as the almost two foot blade slid smoothly from the shaft. Splatters of blood covered the blade, and I could just imagine Crystal using it to dispatch some intruder, or to slay some brainless monster hell-bent on hurting the family. I slid it back into the cane with a soft thud, and then continued into the bedroom.
With the keys in hand, I knew instantly where I needed to go. I crossed the room and threw open our closet door. Clothes still hung in the closet, so thick you couldn’t see into it, and almost too thick to even get into it. I reached in and wrapped my arms around a large section of the hanging garments, and ripped them out, the bar they were hanging on coming loose and falling to the floor. I began to dig into it with renewed fervor, flinging clothes behind me like a dog digging in the dirt.
Finally the closet was cleared out, and I laughed at the sight. Attached to the floor of our closet was a white chest that had been there forever. While it had always had a lock on it, I saw that now there were two. Sitting behind it, leaning against the wall in a small space between the two, was a ball bat and a machete. I snatched both up and once more smiled. The machete was razor sharp, and brand new. My baby knew me well. The bat, on the other hand, I recognized as the handiwork of Christopher and Seth. Large nails had been driven into it, creating a spiked mace with great heft. I sat them on the floor beside me, and turned back to the chest.
When finally opened, I took a deep breath and looked inside. A half dozen bottles of liquor were lined up on one side, rags stuffed into them. A Zippo and a small bottle of lighter fluid sat with them. A handful of knives littered the chest, including a set of throwing knives she had gotten me a long time ago, all sitting on top of two bundles covered with fabric. Both were tied up tight with multiple lengths of twine. I lifted the first out, and began to unwrap it gingerly.
There was, to my surprise, a rather large pistol in the wrapping. It was a .44, and I only knew that because of the full box of ammunition that was wrapped up with it. I turned it over in my hands, and knew then what the small key was for. There was a trigger lock on the pistol, and I unlocked it, throwing the lock aside. I sat the pistol down beside the ammo, then reached back in the chest and grabbed the other bundle.
It was longer than the other, and thinner. I pulled the wrapping off of it, and I almost panicked when I saw what it was. How, or where, my baby found this I did not know, but there it was, in all its crimson glory, setting on my lap and making me nervous. Three sticks of dynamite now lay on my crossed legs, and I could do nothing but stare. I picked them up, moving them slowly and carefully, and sat them beside me. I breathed a little easier once they were not sitting on me, and turned once more to the chest.
Sitting at the bottom was another note. I picked it up and unfolded it, seeing my Crystal’s lilting handwriting one again. The note was simple, nothing more than two short lines: “You missed something. Look again.” I reached back, and after I had taken everything out of the chest, I still found nothing other than the objects I had already discovered. Shaking my head and throwing one hand up in exasperation, I started to rummage through the rest of the closet. What she spoke of I ended up finding behind the chest. My small leather pouch, one I had used to carry around my long gone pet rat, lay there on the floor. I picked it up with the greatest of caution, scared at what I may find in there.
I shouldn’t have been.
There was two bottles of Excedrin in it, along with a smaller bottle of prescription strength ibuprofen. Also in it was a pouch of tobacco, almost overflowing, and a couple of packs of rolling papers. Another small bundle, wrapped in normal paper, was there also. I cursed at it, for how many times would the woman do this. Why did she have to wrap everything up? I pulled the string and it fell open, a bag of pot, almost an ounce from the look of it, fell onto the floor. I stared at it, the paper in my hand, and just sat there, dumbfounded. I looked at the paper, and saw “For medicinal purposes only. I will understand.” written there. Only my baby would leave me drugs during all of this. I stood up, leaving the dope where it had fallen, and walked out of the room.
I walked beck through the house and to the back porch. I went to pick up my backpack, and found myself staring at the basement door. Nothing seemed off, and I found my mind wondering at why she would warn me away. I straightened out and walked over to the door, leaning towards it and placing my ear to it. After a few moments, I shook my head and reached back down for my bag. I hadn’t heard anything, and I needed to be on my way.
I made my way back to the bedroom, trying to figure out how I was going to fit all this in the backpack I was carrying.
23.
I held up the keychain and had my finger poised to push the button. I paused for a moment, curiosity and fear holding my finger at bay. I was sure that whatever my beloved had cooked up was all for my best interests, but I was a little scared at what it might just be. Finally I decided to say fuck it, and pushed the small button down.
Almost instantly, a little ways down the road, I heard a stereo start up. Loud bells could be heard, and I recognized the starting chords of ACDC’s “Hells Bells”. The sound grew and grew, until it could be heard clearly to me, like the music was being played through my own private headphones. I watched the glass in my house’s windows rattle, and saw knick-knacks start to shake on the shelves. Through the window I saw the dead in the area start to flock to towards the sound, which seemed to be emanating from a house a little down the block. Looking closer, I noticed that there were more than a couple of large, high-rise speakers setting on the home’s porch.
Gods bless you Baby, I thought to myself.
I hefted my pack, shaking my head a little in amusement, and started towards the back door. I had tried to fit most of what my baby had left for me in the pack, but had to leave behind four of the Molotov’s, and purposely left the dynamite. The pistol, now loaded, I had shoved in the front of my belt, and had strapped the bat and machete to the back of the pack. I carried the cane though, and had traded the knife Alec had given me for an older kitchen knife my father-in-law, Carl, had gave us long ago. I felt like an idiot, like some cliché’ horror movie hero.
I went to the back door once again, and had just placed my hand on the doorknob when the basement door shook violently and issued a loud thump. I turned slowly towards the door. Once more there was an impact against it from the other side, and saw the wood bow and crack slightly. My eye widened, and I backed up, running into the doorframe. Again and again something hit the basement door, and whatever it was could now be heard growling through it. Then, with all suddenness, all sound stopped. Whatever it was must have either knocked itself out, or given up.
I had just turned back to the door, when the howl came up.
The ferocity of it shook me to my core. It sounded from some dog brought straight from Hell, one of Satan’s minions sent to eat my soul. I threw the door open, not daring to take my eyes from it, when the wood panel at the bottom split open and erupted outwards.
There was my dog, Cat, coming through the door at me. Part of his face was gone, peeled away by a sharp piece of the wooden door. Blood and black ichor seeped from his jaws, now upraised in a feral snarl. His teeth were bloodstained and bared, and his eyes were alight with a hellish light. Whatever Cat was now, he sure was no longer my beloved dog. Further and further through the door he pushed, more and more flesh being stripped away by the wood, and I decided not to wait around. I turned and bolted out of the door, heading back towards the tracks. I heard Cat let out one more howl, louder and longer than any I had ever heard before, and became even more scared when I heard it answered by two others after, mere seconds apart from e
ach other.
I made it to the tracks easily, and decided it would be in my best interest to keep myself armed. I did not want to draw attention to myself, so I left the pistol in my belt. I instead pulled the cane apart, holding the blade in my right hand, the metal shaft in my left. I swore under my breath, realizing my handicap with the missing eye. If anything came up on that side, I would be pretty much fucked unless I heard them first.
Crossing over Avenue G, I decided to stay on the tracks, figuring that I would be hidden better than if I took the main road. My in-laws lived almost exactly a mile away, and either route would get me there just as quick. I had gone about two hundred yards after crossing the road, the natural walls that rose on either side of the tracks now almost fifteen feet high, when I realized the folly of my decision.
I was running hard at that point, excitement and adrenaline kept my feet pumping. I wasn’t paying the best attention though. Finally looking up, I slid to a stop in the gravel beside the tracks themselves. There, about twenty feet ahead of me, was a group of them things. They were coming towards me, slowly, and must have been being drawn by the music. They were spread out pretty good, but the small herd had enough members to give me pause. I had already been spotted though, and my options were few:
Run back the way I came, back towards my home and the demon version of my loved pet.
Try and scale the ravine wall, thick with brush and near impassable.
Fight my way through the herd.
I chose the second. Mama didn’t give birth to a fool.
I dove into the brush on the right side, instantly feeling my hands start to get cut and bleed from the large thorns on the bushes I was trying to use for leverage. I could hear the zombies getting closer, and I wasn’t making good time up the hill. Finally making it to a clearer spot under a small tree, I turned back to look, leaning up against the high side of its trunk. The dead-heads were there below me, trying to follow. Thirty or so of them bastards were down there, grouped together and trying to climb over one another to get to me. Lucky for me, they didn’t seem too bright, and the thick brush impeded them from coming after me.
I spent a few moments to catch my breath, and than finished my climb.
Coming out of the bushes at the top, I was relieved to see that there was nothing in sight but the street and apparently empty houses. I took a deep breath and continued on my way.
A little while later, I had made it to Lakeview Avenue. There was my aunt’s house, dark and empty, on the corner, and from here I could see my in-laws house down the street. I smiled, relief washing over me. I had just started down the street when, in the distance, I heard a howl that I recognized easily. Cat must have made it through the outside door, and between my leg and my now bleeding hands, I was sure that he could track me easily. I broke into a run, trying to cover the distance as quick as I could.
As I came into the yard, I immediately noticed that there were no cars in the drive but one, Carl’s small Honda. Also, there were a couple of dozen or so dead littering the lawn, their heads partly gone, or literally blown to small pieces.
My heart was beating hard as I stepped onto the porch in front, the screen door hanging on by only one hinge. I tried the knob, and, finding it locked, slammed my fist into the door. I began to run to the back, but stopped when I saw a larger ladder setting next to the house. Looking up, I saw that the upstairs window was open. Inviting to those that had the nerve to make the climb. I grabbed the ladder and placed it under the window, climbing it easily. As I got to the top, I pulled my pack off and slid it through, then squeezed myself through the small window.
The house was dark, quiet. I looked around, and saw the small room I stood in had bee used not to long ago. The bed was recently slept in, and there were clothes on the floor. Flies buzzed, swarming around a few empty cans of food. I picked my pack up and placed it on the bed, the cane I carried next to it. Pulling the pistol out of my belt, I brought it to bear ahead of me, and started down the narrow stairs to the ground floor. The quiet enveloped me, and, due to the boarded up windows, so did the darkness. I hit the bottom and turned to head into the living room, when I was stopped abruptly by the twin barrels of a shotgun staring me right in the face.
“Who are you?” I heard from behind the gun. “And why the FUCK is you in my house?”
24.
“Carl?” I asked, dropping my pistol and immediately putting my hands in the air.
“Who is that?” I heard the man ask again, and it was then I knew that it wasn’t Carl, my father-in-law.
“The name’s Eddy,” I said, the gun in my face making me very nervous. “I’m just trying to find someone, anyone, but mainly my family. Make sure the family is okay. This was my in-laws house.”
“Eddy,” he said, but I could hear uncertainty in his voice. “Where the fuck did you come from? “
“Two days ago, I woke up in the hospital, and have been searching for my family ever since. And I came through the upstairs window. It was open.” I told him. Was it really only that short of a period of time since I had awakened? It seemed like a lot longer than that.
“Well,” the man said. “You better come into the dining room. We ought to talk, but talk quietly. Sound draws them fuckers in you know? Want something to drink?”
“Sure man,” I replied. I picked my pistol up off the floor, shoving it back into my belt, and followed him into the dining room.
I saw no one else.
No one rushed out to greet me, welcoming me home from such a long time in the hospital. My beloved didn’t come and throw herself into my arms, letting me know how much she missed me and loved me. I knew the man was alone here.
“What happened?” I asked him, once we were both sat down at the dining room table.
“What do you think happened?” He shot back, the look on his face calling me a dumb ass even though he didn’t speak the words. When I didn’t answer immediately, he continued speaking.
“The end of the world happened, Eddy.
“It started off slowly at first, just a couple here and there. Then, one day, there were thousands within minutes, and the whole thing went to shit from there.
“At first the government was able to keep us contained, keep the walkers out of Danville. The smaller outlying towns fell quick though. We only had to deal with the few that managed to make it through. Things were relatively normal, and those that didn’t leave with the initial evacuation led their lives as usual.
“The military was using the hospital as their base, and that was our downfall.
“Someone went in and was bit. You can guess what happened then. One makes two, two makes four, etc... The army was over run, and with it, us also. There was a second evacuation, and that was when most people from the area left. I lost my wife shortly after to those things when they overran our house, and we took off trying to find a safer place. We stumbled upon this place, and it seemed safe enough. We rigged up a generator we found on the property, and hunkered down.
“By that time, the things were everywhere. Me and the boys had a grand old time killing any of them that came up on the property, and between all of us, we came up with all new ways to destroy the bastards.
“But things just kept getting worse.
“Before the radios went down completely, they said they were pulling out of Danville for good. The radio said something about them having built a bunker in Champaign, at Carle hospital. Anyone that wanted to join them would have to meet them on One-Fifty, because they were going to be leaving fast.”
I thought long and hard about what he had said my head lowered. Then one thing came to mind, one question that just did not make sense.
“Bob, why didn’t you go with them?”
He never answered.
I looked over at him and saw his shoulders slump, his head now resting in his hands. I didn’t know the man, but I felt for him anyways. I reached out and placed my hand on his shoulder, a sign of affection I had never done before.
> I decided to look around, and walked over to what used to be Crystal's uncle Bud’s room. I had just placed my hand on the knob when Bob shot up to his feet.
“NO!!!” he berated at me.
“Bob? There’s not…” I let the question hang, not wanting to finish it. He did nothing but look at me.
I was at a loss for what to say.
I looked towards Bud’s room, just imagining what I would find if I opened the door. Then I looked back to Bob. I decided I would leave him to his thoughts for awhile.
“Is it possible for me to clean up some?” I asked him, hoping his answer would be yes.
“Sure,” he said without looking up. He waved a hand towards the bathroom. “Water may not be too hot, and I’ll ask you to not use too much power. The generator I got rigged up works fine, but the noise draws them cock-suckers like flies.”
“Sure thing man, I understand.” I replied.
I stopped only for the shortest time, looking down at him, still not knowing exactly what to say. I watched as he took a deep breath straighten up, and down the glass sitting in front of him. He turned and looked at me, his eyebrows raised as if to ask me “What?”, and I realized then there was nothing more I could do.
I nodded at him, and then made my way upstairs to collect my things.
25.
My hand swept down the cabinet mirror, wiping away the steam that had collected there. The bath had been a little cold, on that Bob had spoken true. Yet, even due to the luke-warm water, in the early May night cold creeping in, the mirror had fogged up. I looked at myself once more in the dim candlelight, sighing at the state of my hair and beard. I quickly found a pair of scissors in a nearby drawer, and immediately set them to work on the unkempt hair. It only took a few minutes for me to get my beard into shape, and I had just started on my hair when I heard a knock on the door.
My Apocalypse (Book 1): The Fall Page 8
