“The earth is my bed…” Evan laid down and spread his arms and legs out and began moving them slowly up and down, back and forth. He looked content until he saw the others laughing. “Don’t laugh at me.” Evan looked alarmed.
“We’re not laughing at you,” said Riley. “We’re laughing with you.”
“Ain’t that right.” Evan closed his eyes and inhaled, wiggling his bare back on the rock beneath his flesh.
“Hey.” Troi gasped. “When did it get so dark out?”
* * *
Steve sat in the kitchen of his house in his boxer shorts, reading a newspaper on his digital tablet. It was his routine. He’d come home from work and undress, take his Swedish Ropes formula, and settle down at the table with the reader. He’d browse through the paper’s contents, perusing the articles that caught his attention. In years past, the kids would break his concentration, chasing each other through the house, talking to their friends, arriving home themselves from work.
Riley and Anthony had been gone six days. Every evening when Steve got back from work, he hoped he’d find them waiting for him. He didn’t need them to be sitting there waiting for him. If he could just walk in the house and find they were there, find them going about their normal business, he’d be happy.
Six days. Steve looked at the electronic calendar on the kitchen wall every morning before he left for work, and then when he got home and they were not home, he looked at it again. How long would they be away? What if they didn’t find Bear and his soldiers? What if they did? What if Bear was on the other side of the continent? Steve worried about what his children would find in the Outlands. The zombies weren’t what they once were, but they were still out there.
For the last six days, he would look up from his paper, through the blinds on the window, and the woman would be standing there, across the street from his house. She was bony and wasted, her skin sallow, always some kind of hat on her head. Steve knew who she was.
The first time he had spotted her through the window, he had looked away immediately, back at his newspaper. Steve felt nervous, scared, and excited all at once, but he hadn’t looked up. Instead, he’d tried to concentrate on whatever article was staring up at him, but his mind wasn’t on the words. When he had worked up the courage to glance back across the street, she was still there.
Steve didn’t think she could see him. He didn’t think she knew he was home. That was nonsense, he corrected himself. Why else would she be standing there, keeping silent vigil? Briefly he toyed with the idea of getting up, opening the door, and inviting her in. Only briefly. What would he say? What could he say? He was and wasn’t the same person she had known twenty years earlier. She was, but damn if her disease hadn’t taken a toll on her.
She huddled in her calf-length, black jacket against the autumn chill. Her eyes were dark circles in her pallid face. Steve hoped Riley and Anthony were keeping warm wherever they were.
He returned his attention to the newspaper headlines.
They were expanding the train lines into the westernmost settlements. The Red Team had beaten the Blue Team in extra innings and were headed for the Diocesan playoffs. The virtual cystoscopy was celebrating its tenth anniversary. Just reading about that made Steve wince and cross his legs.
When he next looked through the blinds, she was still standing there. If asked, he would not be able to explain what he did next or why he did it. He reached out and twisted the tilt wand until the wooden slats of the blind shuttered. Now he couldn’t see her.
Steve looked at the calendar on the wall.
* * *
“Anthony, wake up.” Riley shook him. Her brother sat up, the morning chill gripping him, the vast countryside with its greens, reds, and oranges stretching out for as far as the eye could see. It took Anthony a few moments to remember where he was—where they were—atop the rock formation after yesterday’s climb.
“Krieger’s gone.”
“He’s what?” Anthony thought he hadn’t heard her right.
“He’s gone.”
“What does that mean?”
Riley looked suspiciously at her brother. Was he still feeling the effects of the mushrooms? “It means he’s not here now. We don’t know where he went. His stuff is over there.”
“Okay, I got you…” He rose, rubbing his forehead, pulling down his beanie’s ear flaps.
“Riley! Anthony!” Evan called. He stood behind Troi, who was on her knees by the flag pole.
When the brother and sister reached their two friends, they saw tears were streaming down Troi’s face. She was kneeling amid Krieger’s bodypack and possessions near the edge of the rock.
“What is it?” Riley asked. Evan craned his neck, gesturing somewhere over the safety rail. Riley and Anthony stepped carefully to the rail and peered over.
A couple hundred meters below lay Krieger’s body, twisted and lifeless on the rocks. One of his arms was outstretched and his Bo staff lay a yard from his hand.
They backed away from the void.
“What do you think happened to him?” Anthony wondered.
“Probably drinking, the shrooms…” guessed Evan. “Slipped and fell under the rail. And that was it. Poor bastard.”
“I didn’t hear him cry out or anything,” said Riley.
“I hope the fall killed him right away.” Anthony didn’t want to think of Krieger lying there, hurt.
“I’d say it killed him on impact,” said Evan. “You see how high up we are?”
“He didn’t slip and fall.” Troi rose and was wiped her face.
Riley asked, “What do you mean?”
“He wanted to die.” Troi looked down at her feet and shook her head. “That’s why we came up here. That’s why he wanted to come here.”
“You think he—what—killed himself?” Evan asked.
“He was dying. He knew he was dying. He wanted to die here. He wanted to be here.”
“I don’t…” Evan’s words tapered off.
Anthony thought about it. “He did seem real happy to have reached this place.”
“The other night…when we slept inside that house…” Troi said. “I asked him how far we were from Bear. He said we’d see something beautiful in a day or so…he meant this place. He meant us and him. Then he said we’d—you’d he said—he said you’d find Bear after this. He knew he wasn’t coming with us.”
Evan thought up about a half dozen objections, but decided none of them were called for or appropriate at the moment. Instead, all he said was “Damn.”
“You really think he was dying?” Anthony asked the others.
“You heard that cough?” Riley stood with her hands on her hips.
“This is just so sad.” Anthony looked off towards the east where the sun was rising into the sky.
“It is.” Troi wiped her cheek.
“He left us Bertha.” Evan hefted the multi-barreled grenade launcher. “What do we do now?”
“We’ve got to get down off this rock.” Riley did not relish the task. Her head felt a bit tingly. “Go that way.” She pointed off in the distance.
“We have to bury him,” said Troi, “or something.”
“I don’t know how we’re going to reach him,” said Anthony. “It looks pretty dangerous, getting down there.”
“Anthony’s right,” agreed Evan.
“What are we supposed to do?” Troi did not sound happy. “Leave him for the birds and whatever else comes around here?”
“I know you feel you had some kind of—I know you had some kind of connection with him.” Evan did his best to be diplomatic. “So think about it. Do you think Krieger would want you to risk your life just to get to his body and burn it?”
“He spent his whole life out here in nature,” Anthony said. “I don’t think he’d mind if we just left him where he was.”
“If you want to go down there and get him,” Riley told her friend, “I’ll help you.”
Troi thought about what Anthony and Ev
an had said. She thought about the nights she had spoken to the guide, how he had told her his daughter would have been roughly her own age. She thought about the fact that Krieger, as Anthony had said, had chosen to live the last twenty years out here. To live out in the wilds, under the stars, largely alone, coming and going, and answering to no one.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m okay. Let’s get ready and go.”
Cosmo’s Brood
They had a general sense of the direction they needed to continue in, and they walked for several hours before reaching a break in the trees. They had salvaged what they could and what they wanted from Krieger’s bodypack. Evan lugged Bertha and the bandoliers of 40mm buck shot and fragmentation grenades. Evan also—somewhat grudgingly refusing to part with them—carried the last two bottles of whiskey they’d carted for the guide.
Around midday they emerged from the trees and into a vast meadow. More trees waited for them on the other side. They stopped for lunch, and as they finished their meal, a solitary figure came rushing across the glade, yelling and waving at them.
“Look…” Troi’s sounded a warning.
“O-kay…” Evan and the others regained their feet.
“A little overkill, Ev?” Anthony indicated the grenade launcher Evan had leveled at his hip.
“He’s not a zombie,” said Riley.
“Get behind me,” Anthony told his sister, raising the barrel of his Model 7.
“Get behind me, little brother.” She stepped in front of him, pushing the barrel of his M7 towards the ground, her own taut on its sling.
Anthony scoffed and took a step forward to stand side by side with her.
“Stop right there!” Evan called out to the approaching runner.
“Don’t shoot me!” the man screamed. “They’re after me! They’re after me!” The man must have noticed the barrels of their weapons were aimed at him. He stopped running and covered the distance remaining between them at a fast walk, his hands in the air.
“Who’s after you?” Riley demanded. The man jerked his head to look over his shoulder.
“What’s that on his arm?” Troi asked.
When the man was five or six meters away from them, Evan ordered him to stop where he was and the guy did. The man’s torso was covered by deep slash marks and dried blood. He wore no shirt, and his pants were ripped and tattered.
“Who’s after you?” Riley asked him again now that he was closer.
“Who did this to you?” The man’s appearance saddened Anthony.
“Them.” There was fear in the man’s eyes as he glanced over his shoulder.
“Who’s them?” Evan didn’t see anything but trees behind the man.
“I don’t think we want to know,” Troi whispered.
“What happened to your nipple?” asked Anthony. Riley peered into the coagulated mess that was the man’s chest, and noted that the guy’s right nipple had been plucked from it, leaving a ragged, puckered hole.
“Them I’m telling you! They did it. The baby. The little freak baby—”
“You gotta calm down, pal,” said Evan. “You’re here now, okay? No one is going to hurt you while you’re out here with us. We’re going to protect you. What the hell is that on your arm?”
“You’re going to protect me?” the man was hysterical. A severed arm was chained to his own wrist. “Who’s going to protect you?”
“Who are they?” demanded Riley. “Tell us who did this to you.”
“That’s an arm, isn’t it?” asked Troi.
“Freaks! They’re freaks!”
“Where did this happen to you?” Evan asked.
“In the barn. Oh my god, the barn. Lena is in the barn.”
Riley asked, “Who’s Lena?”
“My wife!”
“So these people—”
“They’re not people!”
“—these people did this to you.” Evan finished his sentence. “They did the same thing to your wife?”
The man hung his head and cried.
“Is that his wife’s arm?” Troi asked quietly.
“Look at his feet,” Anthony whispered to Riley. The man’s feet were a bloody mishmash. It didn’t look like he had all his toes.
“What did they do to your wife?” Evan said.
“They…they raped me.” The man cried, still not looking up. “Oh my god. I’m in such pain.”
“Troi.” Evan watched the man in front of them and the trees behind him as he spoke. “You want to take a look at this guy?”
The look on Troi’s face said no, she did not want to examine this ravaged man. But she called to him. “Why don’t you come sit over here? We’ll take a look at you.”
“No—no time!” the man looked at them and hissed his next words. “They’re coming!”
“Yeah, we heard you.” Evan stared off into the trees.
“They did this to you in a barn?” Anthony asked. The man nodded, still weeping.
“We should go check it out,” said Riley.
“No!” the man cried. “You can’t go there. You can’t—”
“Look, guy. Relax,” Evan grew impatient with the man.
Riley gave Evan a look. Show a little compassion for goodness’ sake. “Can you take us back to the house?” She asked the man.
Terror crossed his face.
“Okay, bad idea,” said Riley. “Take it easy. You stay here and wait for us.”
“Hey, Rye.” Evan studied the trees on the other side of the meadow. “You ever think maybe it’s not a good idea to go looking for whatever did this to him?”
“Which way did Krieger say not to go?” Troi worried.
“No.” Riley answered Evan, fixated on the puckered hole where the man’s nipple had been.
“We still have a few hours of daylight,” said Anthony.
“And if we’re going to face whoever did this to him,” continued Riley, “we’re better off doing it while the sun’s out.”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Troi.
“Hey—wait!” Anthony cried out as the man sprinted away from them.
“Where are you going?” Riley called after him.
“He ain’t going back to that house,” said Evan. “That’s for sure.”
“He’s going to get himself killed out here,” said Anthony.
“Looks like he almost did once already,” said Riley. “You guys okay? Let’s stick close. Stay together.”
“This is a bad idea, Rye…” No one responded to Troi.
“This should be interesting,” muttered Evan.
* * *
The man had left a trail that was easy to follow. Stalks of grass and branches were bent, broken and bloodied. Imprints from his bare feet were clear in muddy spots upon the earth. It took the four companions an hour to find the barn and its accompanying farm house.
“I don’t see a thing.” Troi sought reassurance.
From the trees, they stared at the property, which appeared deserted save for a myriad of junk and rubbish scattered about.
“Don’t mean there’s nothing to be seen,” replied Evan.
“I don’t know…”
“Quiet…” Riley warned.
A distinctly human scream of anguish and despair reached their ears then ceased.
“You heard that, right?” Evan s itched to unload with Bertha.
“The barn,” said Anthony.
“Let’s circle around it.” Riley willed herself to remain calm.
“How about let’s not and say we did?” Troi asked.
An assortment of junk and rusted farm implements littered the dirt behind the barn. One of the swinging barn doors hung slightly open, inviting them into the dark beyond.
“I don’t like this,” whispered Evan. “At all.”
“I don’t want to go in there…” Troi stared hypnotically at the gaping blackness.
“We got Bertha.” Anthony reached over and patted the multi-barreled launcher in Evan’s hands.
“
If there’s any chance there are people alive in there…” Riley said.
“Whatever that guy saw…” Evan couldn’t take his eyes off the barn. “Whatever he went through…”
They waited, but there were no further screams.
“I’m going in.” Riley made to step out of the trees, but Anthony grabbed her arm.
“No you’re not!” he hissed. “Get back down.”
“Anthony, you stay here, if anything happens to you—”
“What? Better something should happen to you? No. If you’re going, I’m going.”
“Ev is gone already,” said Troi. The siblings glanced back up, away from one another, and, sure enough, Evan was approaching the barn. Bertha was held tight against his side as he attempted to peer into the dark beyond the door. Evan’s steps were exaggeratedly long and slow. He reached each foot out tentatively, stepping daintily to his tip-toes and rolling onto each sole.
“We can’t let him go in there alone,” said Riley.
“I’ve got to be out of my mind.” Troi followed Evan, shooting nervous looks at the barn, at the door to the barn, at the empty spaces around each side of the barn.
Evan and Troi reached the door and stood off to the side. They listened. They heard nothing. Evan motioned then slipped inside the barn without opening the door any farther, lest it make a noise.
Troi waited, her back to the wall of the barn. She could see Anthony and Riley in the trees because she knew where to look. She considered returning to the trees and joining them. But Evan was in the barn now, by himself. Troi’s palms were sweaty around the pistol grip and barrel of her M7. She gulped and slipped inside the barn.
“Shhhhhhhh…” Evan placed his palm against her mouth, which almost made her scream. “Close your eyes and count to ten,” he whispered in her ear.
Troi closed her eyes and counted to ten, letting them adjust to the dark.
“When you open your eyes, do not scream.”
When Troi opened her eyes and looked around in disbelief at the chamber of horrors they had stepped into, she went to scream, but Evan clasped his hand over mouth again, stifling the cry.
Resurrection (Eden Book 3) Page 16
