Sorrow: A Novel Written by Brian Wortley

by Brian Wortley

  Val grew weary of this conversation quickly. Connor had already drained the majority of her patience. “Uh, the living dead running around trying to eat everybody!”

  “Oh,” Bear replied, “I know the ones you speak of. Well, I know of a group unlike these ‘zombies’ you mentioned. Mind you, these ‘regular humans’ are as queer as a bison in the bayou.”

  “What makes them strange?”

  “They’re like a badger you’ve thudded on the head with a shovel. Their brains is all knocked out. Should be dead, but they ain’t.”

  “Are you’re sure they’re not zombies? They don’t eat people? Living or dead?”

  “Sure don’t. But wastes of human potential all the same.”

  “And what do these people do?”

  Bear thought for much longer than everyone believed he should. “What would ya’ll say ya’ll do?”

  “We’re travelers for the moment.”

  “Well,” he began sounding very sure of himself, “they ain’t. They sit. Sitters you might call’em.”

  “Maybe they call him Bear,” Val couldn’t help whispering to Sara, “because he has the brains of Winnie-the Pooh.”

  Sara asked, “Could you take us to meet them if we should want?”

  “’Course.”

  “So what do you think?” Sara asked Val.

  “This man’s batty,” Val replied. “But if there are actual humans around here, it would be good to group up with them.” Val turned to address Bear, “How many of these human are there?”

  “I can’t remember now. No more than five I’d say.”

  “Very well,” Val decided. “Let’s at least meet them.”

  The group prepared to move out as one of the soldiers asked the rider, “Why are you wearing such a thick coat? Aren’t you burning up?”

  “You’ve not seen the storms of ice or snow?”

  The man looked around as if he’d missed something obvious. “No snow here. Is it snowing to the east?”

  “Snow. Ice. Death. Whatever the Weather Witch is brewin’. She’s a demon that one. Caught me alone on a long narrow stretch without no cities. She made my paths snow and ice just like a man don’t need. What I done to her? I don’t know! You always seem to be dressed for the wrong occasion when she’s about. The Witch almost done me in. But I’s outsmarted her. Me and my nature skills,” he said with the toothless smile of a lunatic. “Lost my toes. But I made do. Glued on some wooden pegs good as new. It’s my left pinky I misses the most. So if you sees one lazyin’ about give it over.

  “Anyways, I survived her blusters. So I says to myself I says, ‘Bear, you a common man. But you ain’t no fool. You show her yer smarts and wear yer jackets all the time. That way she’ll never catch you with yer britches in the briars.’ So that’s what I done.”

  The man, getting far more of an answer than he bargained for, returned to the group unsure of how to reply to such a thing.

  Bear began to lead them back the way he came. His horse trotted off perhaps a little faster than he had arrived. “Forward!” he said waving his arm to the east.

  “He is a very odd man,” Val said.

  “If you wandered around the wasteland by yourself on a mule, you’d be a little odd too, Val,” Sara replied.

  ∙ ∙ ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙

  The team was immediately reminded of the excruciatingly slow speed of horses. They begged Bear to tie his animals behind the vehicles and ride inside, but he utterly refused. And so the vehicles trudged along behind the slow horse and its mule. As if the deathly speed were not enough, Bear leaned over from his saddle every few moments when any shiny object or thing of interest caught his eye.

  When what seemed like an eternity passed, they saw a building in the distance. Fed up with the slow pace, the three vehicles raced ahead of the rider. Once they parked at the base of the building, they readied their weapons and waited for the rider.

  “Aren’t you afraid to ride around out here without a vehicle?” one of the soldiers asked Bear when he finally arrived.

  “Ain’t you afraid of walking around without a brain there, hollow britches?” he answered quickly.

  “Ha!” Val mocked the man, “you’ve got hollow britches!”

  “My britches are a lot of things,” the man replied, “but hollow ain’t one!”

  “In fact,” Bear said, “solitude’s the horse to my buggy. Society is a bunch of nitwits and ostiopods.”

  Val immediately jumped in, “And that’s not a word.”

  “This is my sanctuary!” Bear said looking at the surrounding landscape with pride as if it were something he constructed himself.

  “The countless zombies waiting to reduce you to chow doesn’t have you concerned?” the soldier replied.

  “Oh, they ain’t all bad. I pay no mind to them and they’re kind enough to return the favor.” he said dismounting and tying his horse to one of the vehicles.

  “They don’t attack you?”

  “You might say our minds converged on a mutual understanding.” He moved to the door and put his hand on the handle but didn’t turn. The soldier almost asked more, but Bear cut him off. “These brainless are exactly why I left society. I’m sure you bright fellers will catch my meaning.”

  “You do realize we’re following a lunatic,” one of the soldiers told Sara.

  “You expected differently from a man who calls himself Bear?” she replied.

  Bear opened the door and stepped into a dark hallway. Cautiously the company followed. They seemed to have passed through the side entrance of a hotel. They were greeted by a long narrow hallway with many doors on either side. The only light, a green exit sign above their heads, cast its ominous glow onto the dark green patterned carpet before them.

  Val realized this was the first large building they had been in since Colorado Springs. As she entered, the atmosphere gave her the creeps. Even though the outside light seemed dim, Val immediately missed it when the door closed behind her. A musty smell filled the dense air. At least it doesn’t smell like death, she thought to herself. She thought of so many of the larger buildings she entered and their awful odor of decay.

  Val, for the first time, considered it very strange how easily they had all come to trust Bear. She hadn’t noticed it until now but they let a complete stranger dictate their actions. Hundreds of zombies could be hiding behind these doors and they’d never know it until it was far too late.

  “I take it back,” Val whispered to Sara. “I think we need to get out of here. This place is freaking me out!”

  “No,” Sara replied very confidently. “There’s someone here.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s ok. I trust Bear.”

  “I mostly did too until a second ago. That’s what I’m afraid of. We’ve all trusted him way too easily.”

  “We’re ok.” She turned as if from a distraction to reassure her friend for a moment. “We’re ok.”

  As they proceeded, a flickering light became visible coming from an open room off the corridor. It wasn’t until they heard the growl of a zombie and the scream of its victim that the group’s trust in Bear completely failed. The company quickly pointed their weapons. Half at Bear and the other half jumped nervously from door to door guessing which one would spawn zombies first.

  “We’re ok!” Sara yelled. She said it twice more trying to reassure the rest of them. She opened one of the nearby doors revealing nothing more than an empty standard hotel room. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s alright.”

  “You’re absolutely sure?” Connor asked getting ready to bolt back for the door.

  “Yes.”

  Hesitantly, they followed Bear once more until he led them closer to the light. As they approached, they could see the light came from a large room off to their left. Bear was the first to step into the flickering illumination. Once they followed, they became witnesses to a bizarre spectacle.

  The flickering light proved to be a large telev
ision setup in the far end of the lobby. It immediately drew in the attention of the newcomers and they realize it to be the source of the zombie sounds. A film featuring a post-apocalyptic world full of the living dead played out on its screen. Once they realized this, the company found their fear somewhat comical. They moved now to view the remainder of the room and found an audience. Dozens of movie goers sat on chairs, couches, or merely rested on the floor all focused intently on the screen. It took little observation to realize these spectators were no more than bones. They had been laid out in the most natural of positions. Some leaned forward as if intently engrossed in the movie. Others sat back with their lifeless arm wrapped around their partner.

  Upon closer inspection, all had a strange substance in their joints. At first it appeared like dried blood, but when they found different colors on several others, they thought it to be more like dried food. The company moved through the rows of dead audience members until they became aware of a loft to the rear of the makeshift theater. Suddenly the movie paused and a dark figure from the loft rose.

  “Do come come and sit your bum,” said the speaker.

  “Oh boy, and we can chit chat on the playground and I’ll braid your corpus callosum,” said another from the loft.

  “Here’s some food to fill your tum!” the speaker said again throwing food from the loft. Val examined them finding them to be mostly chips and other packaged snacks.

  The lobby lights turned on and everyone looked to see one of the soldiers had located the switch.

  “Buzz kill,” said one from the loft.

  The room now revealed itself. It boasted a tile floor arranged with many types of furniture for the dead. In one end stood the empty reception desk and in the other the television. The couch nearest the screen was filled entirely with human skulls all pointed at the movie. Some had hats and scarves and other random clothing. Ironically, the dominating presence of death did not permeate the room as everyone expected with so many skeletons. Instead, a strange uplifting attitude emanated from it.

  “Behold the dead heads!” the speaker said when he noticed them looking at the couch of skulls.

  “The children wouldn’t stay in their beds so we’ve put on a movie for them.”

  “Well, Jam Bones,” said the third rising from his place on the loft’s couch. “I’ve got to leave you now.” The company of humans looked on in wonderment at how they managed to put a couch in the loft above the reception desk.

  “Yes, do bring your splintering miserable bones in here,” said the third as he descended a set of stairs made out of boxes to the far side of the loft.

  “Oh,” said the second, “splintery bones! I like that. It makes me think that every time they’re walking around they have these little pieces of their bones jabbing into their muscles like wood fibers. Grizzly!” He said the last word with the enthusiasm of a maniac.

  “You’re watching a zombie movie?” Val asked. The speaker’s mouth frowned as if to show his distaste for such a name. “You don’t get enough of this stuff by - oh I don’t know - going outside?”

  “No. No. No! Don’t go outside!” said the second. “The sky’s mother isn’t home.” The speaker turned to stare off into the distance as if deep in thought. “He’s always so naughty when she’s gone. Remember the last time when the earth stood still?”

  The third commented on the paused movie. “It’s not like this at all! The zombies are hardly this stupid. It’s not like they ate toxic crayons, Miss Movie Maker.”

  “You realize this was made before the infection, right?” Val tried to reason with them. “It’s not actually about what’s going on.”

  The third replied, “Someone’s sense of precognition is incredibly off. I bet he ate a lot of breakfast cereal on the set. It’s like they got the basic idea but all the details are jumbled up. Like cereal in a blender!”

  “Like cereal in a blender!” all three repeated.

  Sara desperately wanted to change the subject. “You three live here?”

  One of the others pursed his lips as he squinted and made a “Mmmm” sound as if he had to think hard before he’d know the answer.

  Before he could reply, the second said, “You’d say we do. But we think of it more like temporary butt seats in our starship to the future. So you’ll be joining us for a while?”

  “He asks like he doesn’t knows,” replied the first. “Rest your toes. You’ll be staying.”

  “I was engaging them in conversation. They like it when you ask them questions they can answer. It does their ego good. Pester them too much with questions they can’t answer and the next thing you know, they’re a blubbering mess in your arms wailing about how mommy didn’t love them like the others. You go out for tea because you just can’t stomach anymore, and come back to find their burst body bags in a ditch somewhere all fork-faced. Truly! I wonder if they really love learning or they’re just showing off.”

  “A mouse may roar but it’s still vermin,” said the third.

  Val half-laughed half-yelled, "What?"

  Sara replied, “I’m not sure we’ve decided if we’re staying yet or not.”

  The speaker continued, “Well when you’re done using coconuts words and standing around like lobotomized monkeys trying to pound the drupes into each other’s heads and finally come to the conclusion we already know you’ll make, be sure and leave a comment card and let us know how your stay was!”

  Unsure of how to reply to that, Sara turned to the group. With much begging, Val finally agreed they could stay for a day.

  When Val finally agreed, the speaker announced, “Please feel free to choose the room on the first two floors that most reminds you of the happiest days of your life. You know, before zombies used their grimy fingers to puncture your skin and all the oozy blood burst out like an overripe plum spurting from the peel! Touch not the third level lest the third level touch you.”

  “To speak plainly and without addendum: don’t go there,” said the second. “It is entirely off limits! Need I press the point like a finger in your eye on the absurdity of betraying us?”

  “We have more perishable foo-d than we could ever hoped to have chew-d on our own,” said the first.

  “So please help yourself. We do not jest in this,” said the second. “Suck every morsel of pleasure from this as it may very well be your last pleasurable chewing experience! I can’t wait to see the food between their ribs! We know what you’re thinking,” he said rising from his couch to face them. He brought his hands up to either side of his head and made a strange backward flowing motion with his hands as he continued in a somewhat feminine voice, “‘Oh no! They’re complete strangers and mommy told you never to take food from them because it’s probably poisoned! That’s why we can’t go trick-or-treating, Danny! We can’t go around supporting a society of strangers butchering strangers. What kind of a culture would that be? It’s like a bear raising a fish. It may be cute and cuddly as a hatchling but eventually I’m going to want to know what you feel like between my teeth!’” He lowered his voice making it more like that of a male child, “‘You’re right, mommy, I don’t want to eat their food! I don’t want to be crazy like them! I’m no fish!’” He then returned to the higher female voice, “’No, Danny. You’re a boy! Now go bring mommy your soul. I’m tired of TV dinners.’”

  Val had enough. “What-was-that?” she yelled in slow dramatic form. “Sara, we’ve got to go! I’m not staying in the same building as these crack head academy dropouts!”

  The entire company was unnerved by this bizarre conversation with the exception of Sara. Undauntedly she sat down on one of the couches, picked up a package of food from the floor, and quickly began devouring it. “You’re all very strange,” Sara told the last speaker in-between bites. For the first time since the conversation started, all three of them turned to look at her.

  “Unpredictable,” said the third with a smile, “we love the unpredictable. Like when your favorite number comes out of the blue
when you were expecting a word or when you look up to find your favorite constellation when you were sure it wouldn’t be visible another few months.”

  “Feeling a bit off today, Constantino?” the second asked. “You held that about as well as your liquor.”

  “Vodka for everyone!” they all shouted in unison as if it were their motto.

  “I think it was the spaghetti. The tomatoes maybe,” Constantino said somewhat thoughtfully to himself. “Acidity always makes me feel a bit out of the box.”

  “What is this place?” Sara asked trying to get them back on a subject she was interested in.

  The first continued. “Ah, but of course! You’ve not been to here beforce!” He continued in a low whisper she could barely hear. “If you think of your mind as a base, have you ever met a person abase? Do you know what would happen? Do you know where they would live?”

  “Valley number 9!” they all yelled in unison as they did a little dance.

  The second said in a lower tone like a disclaimer, “Valley number 9 may formerly have been called Valley Number 8. Our apologies to those who purchased real estate there and now are deprived of our charming company.”

  “Have you guys ever heard of Dr. Seuss?” Val asked the company.

  “Who?”

  “Oh! You should read his books. I think you’d like them.”

  “So is this place safe?” Sara asked.

  “You carp,” came the quick answer from Constantino. “You’re meat asking if there’s anything in the sea that might find you tasty. It’s the ocean! You’re the tastiest thing out there!”

  The first chimed in, “You’re a blind boy carrying a bottle of blood through a bunch of smack-lipped vampires! Their snap-jaws and clink-claws will slash without pause.”

  Sara turned to address everyone, “You guys go pick out rooms. I need to stay here with them for a while.”

  “I don’t want you alone with them,” Val replied. “I’ll stay with you.”

  Sara placed her hand on Val’s hand. “Val, please. I trust them.”

  “How can you possibly trust these people?”

  “I know it’s difficult because they’re all so – you know.”