Autumn's Calling (Book 2): The Battle

by Michelle Weese

  Nearby, a dozen biters encircled me, standing around the chamber like morbid deadly statues. The firelight danced along their grotesque bodies, defining every gory detail. Each one in a different stage of decay. The one closest, a man once but now a monster, donned a policeman uniform. In life, he must have been a weight-lifter because his biceps were bulging around the edges of his frayed shirt. Although, I doubt he could've bench pressed much back in his glory days with the baseball sized chunk missing from one shoulder. Bloody viscera and meat hung in shreds from the gaping wound and trailed down his arm. He gazed at me with opaque eyes inside his bald head. Recognition struck me instantly when I focused on his face.

  This man… (let me rephrase that). This dead man, was Lieutenant Butch Fredericks. The same man I had met months ago when this epidemic tore our nation apart. He was one of the officers that came to our rescue at The Old Colonial Inn. This man helped save our lives when we became overrun and trapped inside the Inn with dozens of zombies lurking outside waiting to feed on us. I only spent a brief amount of time with him and his fellow officers, but even so, a sadness washed over me seeing him fall victim to the virus after striving to protect everyone else from it. His once deep blue intelligent eyes, presently a sick shade of gray, offered no traces of the human being I met that frightening day. What I couldn’t understand was how I came in contact with him again when he was stationed five hours south of Cottage Grove. Either he migrated north after being turned, or I was a long way from home. The latter scared the shit out of me.

  My eyes wandered around the room, studying each biter thoroughly. The most decomposed one was a woman. Only a few strands of dull, lackluster hair dangled from her battered skull. She wore a red silk nightie that barely concealed her private areas, which was both disturbing and revolting. Her ashen skin had rotted off and display her brittle bones underneath. The bone structure of her body appeared contorted. Her neck bulged to one side as if her spine had been fractured. The hand on her right arm was hanging off the wrist by only a thin strip of flesh. It looked like she had chewed off her own lips when she couldn’t find a meal in a bout of hunger. Exposed teeth and gums left her with a permanent smile, and not a charming one. I shuddered at the sight of her and tried to picture what she must have looked like before becoming a monster. But her current features made it difficult to see past the hideous scene before my eyes.

  Bewilderment encased my mind when I noticed the biters weren’t approaching me… or Alastor, for that matter. They remained absolutely still. Their rotting eyeballs rolling around in their heads appeared to be the single movement they made. I peered at each one of them, seeking to understand why they weren’t attacking us. I didn’t have to rack my brain long before Alastor answered that question for me.

  “They won’t harm you, my sweet. Not unless I tell them to,” he revealed nonchalantly. His back was facing me as he stoked the flames, causing embers to sail into the air like fireflies. I scanned the room again, trying my best to ignore the reanimated corpses. It was undeniably a cellar. All brick walls and stone floors. The fireplace looked ancient and featured black soot marks from generations of usage. Wooden crates filled with dust covered wine bottles were stacked up in the far corner beside a timeworn sewing machine. I heard dripping somewhere nearby, most likely a rusty pipe leaking. A musty aroma coated the chamber, overpowering to my sinuses. Moonlight peeked through a small window to my left, casting an ethereal glow on a ceramic claw foot bathtub. A dark stain descended the outer surface of it, standing out in contrast against the stark whiteness of the tub. It wouldn’t shock me to discover the stain was blood. Chill bumps raised on my arms and I shivered. Even with a fire blazing, I couldn’t shake the chill inside.

  “What do you mean, unless you tell them to”? I asked, not really desiring to learn the answer.

  “These are my soldiers. I created them, so they obey my every command,” he replied, as if he just said something I should already know. But I didn’t. It was impossible for me to know this man controlled the beasts that had ravaged the world I remembered. If that is true though, then what is Alastor himself?

  “I don’t understand, Alastor. How do you have authority over the biters?” I asked in a bare whisper.

  “That is a story for another day, my queen. For now, I will assure you that you need not worry. You are safe here with me. They cannot hurt you.”

  “Bullshit! I am not safe here! You hit me and licked my blood from your fingers. I am not so much worried about these rotting bastards as I am you. What the hell are you, Alastor?” I demanded. Although I shouldn’t be making demands from the condition I was in.

  At one instant he was kneeling by the fireplace, and the next he appeared directly in front of my face. My eyes didn’t catch the transition in between. He was too fast. Shadows danced along his features, giving the impression that his flesh was crawling. Harsh lines etched across his brow, exhibiting a whirlwind of emotions.

  Anger. Trepidation. Spite. Arrogance. Curiosity.

  I watched with a sharper mind as he fought to control himself. The reality of the situation was alarming enough to bring me out of my foggy state. I threw him my steely gaze and waited for his reaction.

  “What I am, if you insist on knowing, is an angel of darkness,” he replied with a glimmer in his eye.

  I took another deep breath and asked, “What does that even mean? Like do you worship the devil or something? Because if that’s it, then I want absolutely no part of it, mister.”

  “I worship him, but it is much more than that. I am his offspring. He created me. From his own existence he derives his legion of warriors. I hold a part of him. He is my master, and I am his son.”

  My breath hitched in my throat. How can this be? How can this man be speaking the truth? If he was, then I didn’t stand a chance against him. A new fear coursed through me and I thought I would faint. I begged for God to save me from this horrific nightmare I seemed to be trapped in. First zombies, now demons? It appeared to be an inevitable catastrophe. An impossible war to win. I decided the best thing to do when you’re all out of options… beg for mercy.

  “Please, Alastor. You can’t do this. Please, just let me go,” I pleaded as fresh tears spilled from my eyes.

  “Of course I can do this, I already have. I summon forth anarchy, war, hatred, disease and destruction. I live as the Master’s most prized progeny. But after many lifetimes of serving the King of the underworld, I have grown weary of being in his shadow. I possess considerable power within, so it is my turn to free it and demonstrate what I am capable of. Hell has been the sole place of my existence until now. Thousands of years being trapped by the Master’s will has provoked such rage I desired to set free. What greater way to do so than on all of mankind? It is what the King intends to do, anyhow. But I bested him. I discovered a flaw in his fiery world below and slipped through undetected. Now I am free from his pressing and insistent badgering, and can make my own choices. I choose to rule this planet and everything on it, with you by my side. So what do you say, Autumn? Will you be my queen?”

  “You seriously believe I’m just going to fall down and worship at your feet? Become your zombie queen? You would have to kill me first. I won’t help you kill innocent people.”

  “Well, let me see if I can convince you,” he answered, then snapped his fingers.

  The sound echoed off of the stone surrounding us, and he grinned devilishly as the biters came to life and shuffled towards me. Their jaws chattered in anticipation of a fresh meal. I screamed and jerked at the restraints, even though I knew they were steadfast. The late Lieutenant Fredericks fell into my lap and seized my arms as he aimed his teeth for the meat of my abdomen. I thrashed around, trying my best to throw him off, but the chains kept my motions to a minimum. My heart thudded against my ribcage so hard, I worried it would rupture. The blood in my veins ran cold, forming icy tunnels that coursed throughout my body. My brain began shutting down to shield me from the severe shock I was descending in
to. A warm sensation spread between my legs as my bladder lost control and discharged what fluid remained in my body. The rotting face of the Lieutenant inched nearer, preparing to sink his teeth into my belly, when suddenly all the commotion ceased. He froze in my lap, mere centimeters from my pale flesh. I dared to glance up, and found the rest of them had stopped in their tracks, as well. The relief that flooded me caused more hot tears to erupt from my eyes and trickle down my face. My body swayed from the adrenaline pulsing through me. Alastor remained by the fireplace, chuckling as if this were only a fun game of cat and mouse.

  “Now, do you understand? I can make you obey, but I would like for you to do it of your own free will,” he said.

  “Yes, dammit! And I don’t give a shit who, or what, you are! I have nothing to do with your master plan to murder the entire human race, so let me go!” I screamed at him. Spittle shot from my mouth as my rage notched up another level and surpassed my fear. I scooted backward to move out from underneath the zombie laying in my lap and kicked my legs to knock him off. A dark puddle stained the ground in front of me. Steam rose from it as the heat of my urine met the icy floor.

  “Where is my family? What have you done with them?” I shrieked through my tears and embarrassment. The thought of such an intense fear powerful enough to make me lose control of my body was beyond humiliation. Degradation seemed like a more fitting term.

  “Calm yourself, darling. You didn’t believe in what I was telling you, so I needed to prove myself. My power is strong and I long to share it with you. But you must accept your fate,” he told me.

  I couldn’t wrap my brain around the bizarre fact that he was what he claimed. I mean, how is something like this even possible? How is there a demon from Hell roaming around this planet turning people into flesh-eating monsters? Now he asks me to join him in the destruction! Help him rule in this apocalypse! Being raised in church my entire life, I believe there is a God and a Devil. But a demon escaping his underworld to invade ours and creating this chaos, I didn't want to comprehend. I remember Preacher Frank telling us when you sense something evil around you, to take comfort in a prayer from the Bible. I couldn’t remember which prayer he mentioned. My brain waves tangled up around one another. Would a prayer help or make matters worse? Not sure it could become much worse than this though. I racked my brain to recall the prayer.

  “Your family is gone, my love. I ordered my soldiers to kill every living person left. They will succeed in this, I promise you,” he boasted.

  “My family is strong and they will survive. They will come looking and they will find me. Together we will destroy you and your army of rotting carcasses. You will all be under our boots soon. I have God to turn to. He is greater than any being in existence. You don’t stand a chance,” I replied. A malicious smile widened across my face as I pictured all of them lying in heaps of bones and body parts as my family and I stood together in victory. All I had left now was hope.

  Hope that they would come.

  Hope that they would fight.

  And hope that God would provide the courage and willpower to defeat the evil overshadowing our home.

  Because without hope, all is lost.

  Chapter 8

  Alastor stormed out after our altercation, but the biters remained in the cellar with me. He became infuriated after the mention of God. He didn’t expect to find out I'm a believer. I would love to say he trembled in his boots, but he honestly didn’t seem threatened, only enraged. He fumed and grumbled something incoherent under his breath as he exited the room. I heard heavy bolts being locked in position after he vanished into the darkness. He left me, cold and shivering, chained to the brick wall. The fire dwindled and struggled to stay lit. A glimmer of coals burned in the hearth, but couldn’t produce enough heat to reach me across the chamber. I longed to be free of the shackles so I could scoot closer and stoke the fire. To feel the warmth soak into my frigid body.

  With nothing to do to minimize suffering of the coldness surrounding me, I began plotting my escape. When Alastor slammed me up against the wall, one of the pins in my restraints bent and loosened a little. Now away from his pressing eye, I would work on the cuffs to get them off. The zombies spread out and positioned themselves at various posts. In front of the entrance. Beside the window. Next to the chimney. Waiting in the shadows. Alastor had thought this out and took precautionary measures to ensure I couldn’t run away under the watchful but decaying eyes of his undead soldiers. That didn’t make matters impossible though. After spending months studying these monsters, watching the way they move and attack, I knew a way around them. I just needed to formulate a strategy and figure out their weaknesses.

  I discreetly rubbed my wrist with the loosened shackle against the stone floor. My plan consisted of: breaking the bent pin, quietly remove the shackles, look for a weapon, and attempt my escape. It would be the fight of my life against all the rotting bastards plus Alastor. But I wasn’t willing to give up. If I had to go down, I preferred to go down swinging. If I gave up now, everything I previously fought for and accomplished would all be for nothing. Out in the cold night, my family was trying to get to me, and I needed to be alive when the cavalry arrived. Plus, it wasn’t in my blood to lie down and give up. I'm constructed of much stronger genetics than that.

  A vision of my dad came to mind. His voice whispered through the room as I imagined him standing in front of me. Telling me to dig deep and find myself. Find the willpower I needed to get through this. Memories of him played like a movie in my mind. He was teaching me to ride my little pink princess bike for the first time when I was five. No matter how many times I fell off or wrecked into a tree, he helped me up, dusted the dirt off and told me to keep trying. Dad always instilled the value of self-confidence in me as I grew up. That you have to fight for what you want.

  My puberty years proved to be some of the worst in my life. I became victim of bullying for most of middle school. With frizzy red hair and snow white skin, most kids shunned me like a freak. Because I didn’t have blonde hair and blue eyes like every other girl worth talking to, meant that I grew up without many friends. I learned to embrace my loner status until high school came along and I blossomed in all the right places. My freckles faded. My hair behaved and lay in silky ringlets down my back. I learned how to apply the correct makeup for my skin color. It was like a whole new me.

  After that transition, my self-confidence boosted tremendously, and I found the strength that my dad had told me about all those years. He always believed I had it in me. But I had to discover it the hard way. If he were here today, he would say, “Autumn. You can get through this. Just fight with all you have. Never give up.”

  So I didn’t.

  I rubbed the metal pin in short jerky gestures along the rugged stone. The scraping sound made me cringe with worry I would get caught. Only seconds into my efforts, Lt. Fredericks moved forward, grabbed my arm and squeezed. I shrieked, trying to pull away, but he growled and tightened his grip on my arm. What made little sense is he wasn’t trying to attack or bite, only detain me. I realized Alastor controlled them. But how did they understand not to eat me when he's not even in the room anymore?

  At last, I understood. The zombie noticed my scheme and quickly responded. But they don’t possess a thought process anymore, just an insatiable hunger that animated them. So somehow, Alastor must be able to see through their eyes. It was the only explanation. Otherwise the biter would have made every effort to eat me, rather than stopping me. This was a curveball. How am I supposed to escape when he is watching me through dozens of eyes at all times?

  I calmed myself under the iron grip of the decaying officer and relaxed my muscles. He freed my arm and glared at me through milky eyes. Black liquid oozed from between his lips as he snarled and leaked onto the floor beside my legs. The stench of death invaded my personal space, causing my esophagus to constrict. I choked down the lump in my throat and slowly pulled from his grasp. My entire body shuddered as he slither
ed away from me and returned to his position beside the chimney. Futility threatened to envelope my brain, but I gathered my willpower and assured myself I would get through this. I am strong.

  The light had all but diminished, only orange coals glowed, casting a faint radiance across to where I sat. The moon was still shining through the narrow window, enough to keep me out of complete darkness. My body ached with hunger, bruises, and exhaustion. Blood seeped from the gash that opened when my head collided with the brick behind me. Cold, battered and petrified; I resolved to curl up and try to get some rest. It looked like I would be trapped in the cellar for a long time. Laying on my side, in the fetal position, my thoughts ran away with me.

  I worried about my family. Where they could be. Were they even still alive? Was Alastor right in claiming they were gone? I couldn’t imagine a world without them in it. I shut my eyes and pictured everyone gathered around that plastic table in the hardware store, drinking hot cocoa and laughing about something funny little Benji said. Poor Benji must be so confused about what happened. He grew attached to me immediately when we rescued him from that gas station. I was sort of a comfort blanket for him. I longed to feel his tiny arms around my neck, squeezing tight, while I inhaled the sweet smell of his shampoo. Imagine the essence of fresh picked blueberries. It would be a blessing over the musty odor that clung to the air around me.

  Leland’s incredible eyes swam into my vision and my pulse fluttered. What I would give to be gazing into them in that moment and running my fingers through that glossy black hair. Him kissing me from head to toe with those pouty lips. I knew he was going crazy trying to find me. Unless, he was gone. Oh, no… what if nobody else is left and only Alastor and I remained? Just the idea made my heart skip a beat. It can’t be true. That would be such a cruel ending to my life.