Josh stood there, panting, with the ax hanging loosely from his hand. Blood stippled his face. “Fuck you,” he said.
“You . . .” Sinder's hand shook with rage, “You. You worm. You dog! You think you're better than me? You think you're good enough for her?”
Josh laughed softly. He shook his head. “I never thought I was good enough for her.”
Sinder's eyes widened. “I'll not be cuckolded by this stripling brat!” He raised the pistol and pointed it at Josh.
“No!” Emily lunged in front of Josh.
The pistol cracked. The shot echoed and rolled down Old Main Street, off the far hills, and came crashing back half a dozen times, softer and softer until it faded away to silence. Emily stood motionless. Every zombie along the street stopped, frozen in its tracks, watching.
Gradually, a red spot appeared on Emily's chest. The stain spread, faster and faster, across her white shirt. She looked down and said, “What—” then fell to her knees.
“No!” Josh screamed. He caught her as she fell over backward.
“Oh, God, no,” said Rachael.
Chapter Twenty-three
Lying back against him, Emily looked up at Josh. Blood bubbled from the wound in her chest and trickled from the corner of her mouth. Josh pushed futilely at the bloody spot, trying to staunch the flow.
Sinder stood stock-still. All along the street, every zombie mimicked him. Sinder stared down at the pistol in his hands for a long moment. The gun began to smoke, then to melt and warp in his hands, until the smell of burned plastic wafted down the street. The gun fell from his fingers. He raised his hands and screamed a jagged, inhuman scream. The zombies screamed along with him, and their voices rose to a howling crescendo. Storm clouds formed and blotted out the sun. A sharp, cold wind ripped down Old Main Street. Debris tumbled down the street. Jagged lightning streaked out of the sky and exploded against the old livery stable.
“You!” Sinder pointed at Josh, in a voice dripping with pure hatred. “You did this to her! With your pride, with your heathen lust. With your lies and deception. You corrupted her. She was meant for me. She was meant for me!” As Josh sat and cradled Emily, Sinder strode toward them. His boots sparked against the ground. Lightning crackled from his fingertips. His eyes glowed like embers, and his voice became something inhuman, like the hum of high voltage wires. “For behold, the day cometh that shall burn as an oven; and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly shall be stubble; and the day that cometh shall burn them up, sayeth the Lord of hosts, that it shall leave them neither root nor branch . . .”
Without a word, Rachael and Alex stepped up in front of Josh while he held Emily. They raised their weapons and awaited Sinder's approach.
Sinder made an expression that could have been a smile. His eyes widened crazily. “You rabble think you can stop me? Apostates. Heretics. Philistines. Death is too good for you. Your suffering will go on for eternity. I'll leave your carcasses for the fowls of the air, as the—eh?”
Sinder turned his head at a new sound.
The sound of a roaring engine.
A propane truck fishtailed around the corner. Tom was behind the wheel. Wide-eyed, teeth bared, he zeroed in on Sinder and floored the gas.
Sinder spread his arms. “No mortal tools can hurt—”
With a hollow crunch, the propane truck smashed into Sinder. He was borne along as the truck careened into the crater in the middle of Old Main Street. The truck's back wheels lifted off the ground and spun uselessly.
For a moment, the zombies were shocked, broken. Then, all at once, they turned their heads toward the truck.
Tom climbed out of the cab of the truck as the dust cleared. In one hand he held a hammer, and in the other, a burning road flare. He furiously smashed the hammer against the gas regulator valve on the truck. “Run!” he screamed. “Just run!”
Alex muttered, “I'll be gol-damned.”
“I guess he isn't such a coward after all,” said Rachael.
Again and again, he slammed the hammer against the valve. The faceplate cracked.
The undead closed in on Tom. Alex ran forward with his sword, but a crowd of zombies peeled off to intercept him. He cut them down in twos and threes, dismembered body parts littering the ground, but they still drove him back by sheer force of numbers, forming a cordon around the truck.
The rest of the horde closed in on Tom. One of the dead swung a board studded with rusty, twisted nails. The nails drove deep into Tom's skull. Tom screamed, and the flare fell out of his hand. The creature stooped and grabbed the flare. It shuffled in the opposite direction as fast as it could go, holding the road flare high like an Olympic torch-bearer. Another creature grabbed the hammer and pulled it away. They peeled Tom off of the truck and into the crowd of undead. A length of rebar smashed against Tom's head. He screamed and fell to his knees. The rhythmic rise and fall of the zombies' makeshift weapons accompanied sickening, wet thumps as they pummeled him. The weapons rose, again and again, dripping red, as Tom's screams faded into whimpers.
***
Josh held Emily's hand, slick with blood, as she leaned back against him. The noises of the fight, the moans and screams, all faded away to a dull background roar. Everything around him fell out of focus and became a muted slow-motion blur at the edge of his vision.
“Just hold on,” Josh said. “Hold on, baby. It's all gonna be okay. We're going to get out of here. You and me. We're going to get out of this shitty little town. We're going to go to Vegas, alright? We won't have much. You can get a job as a waitress, and I'll work construction. We'll get a little apartment. I'll play open mic nights and work on an album. You can go to night classes at the junior college. It's all gonna be okay.”
Emily swallowed and smiled. “That . . . sounds nice,” she whispered. “I wish . . . I . . . I'm sorry. I thought I had more time. It was always you.”
He squeezed her hand tighter. “Hold on, Emily, please. I don't want to do this without you.”
“I wished you'd been Romeo instead.” She coughed and winced, and more blood trickled from her mouth. More blood poured between Josh's fingers. She smiled a little and whispered, “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.”
Josh's voice cracked, and tears streamed down his face. “Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.”
He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. After a long, lingering moment he leaned back and met her eyes. “Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”
She smiled, though she was crying also. “Then have my lips the sin that—”
She relaxed in his arms and stared unseeing up at the blue sky.
With trembling hands, Josh held her against his chest and sobbed.
A noise finally intruded into Josh's consciousness—the squeal of bending metal. He turned his head to where the zombies gathered around the propane truck. With the same unnerving choreography, they packed in tight around the truck, grabbing the frame, the bumper, the tires. At some unheard signal, they lifted. The truck rose up out of the trench. The undead shuffled backward, carrying the truck off of their master.
Still holding Emily's lifeless body, Josh watched as Sinder once again crawled out of the smoldering crater, covered in dust and blood and filth. He held the silk top hat, crushed flat, in his hand. He examined it for a moment, then punched the stovepipe back into shape. He seated the mangled hat on his head and glared.
Josh set Emily gently down. “You,” he said. He picked up his ax where it lay in the dust. “You. You!” With a wordless scream of rage and anguish, he raised the ax and ran toward Sinder.
“Kid, no!” screamed Alex.
Sinder sneered back at him, a face full of equal parts rage and contempt. “Come on then, boy, let's end this.” He picked up the rusty machete and held it ready.
Josh never got there. Zombies crowded into the space between him and Sinder. He struck the closest one between the eyes with the ax and split its skull like an overripe melon. Thr
ee more grabbed the ax. They yanked it from his hands, then seized him by the wrists, spreading his arms wide. They grabbed him by the shirt and the hair, holding him fast.
Alex and Rachael ran toward them. Zombies swarmed them from all sides, crushing in so they couldn't move. Alex screamed when a nail-studded board stuck in his thigh. The undead yanked the weapons from their hands, seized wrists and shirts and hair. Alex's feet dangled off the ground as the zombies carried him and Rachael forward, spread-eagled, to bear witness.
“See where your pride gets you, Mr. Easton?” said Sinder, “Your hubris? Your heresy? You took her away from me. From me! You! You twisted her mind with your lies. With your sinful lust.”
Josh laughed in his face. “You did this! You did it all! You did it all to her. How can you not see that? You destroyed the world for someone who never wanted you. You lied and you cheated, and—I mean, I always thought I was bad with women. But you take the cake. You're just a sad, bitter old man. I pity you.”
“Pity.” Sinder's face displayed a cold, reptilian smile. “Pity? Boy, your agony will go on for lifetimes. I'll strip the very skin from your bones. I'll boil your blood in your veins. You'll rue the day you ever—”
“Whatever.” Josh lowered his head. “Just shut up and do it already.”
Sinder gave him a look. “Very well.” He raised his right hand, which glowed like a forge. He touched his hand to Josh's chest with a sizzle. The kid screamed.
Sinder sneered. “Now this will be the plague with which the Lord will strike all the peoples who have gone to war against Jerusalem . . .”
Grimacing, gritting his teeth through the agony, Josh raised his head. He looked Sinder in the eyes and said, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”
Sinder scowled and continued, louder, “. . . their flesh will rot while they stand on their feet . . .”
Josh's voice grew stronger. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside quiet waters.”
“. . . and their eyes will rot in their sockets . . .”
Rachael joined in, shouting along with Josh. “He restoreth my soul, he leadeth me into the path of righteousness for his name's sake.”
Sinder screamed, “. . . and their tongues will rot in their mouth!”
Josh screamed louder, “Yea, and though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for thou art with me! Thy rod and thy staff comfort me!”
Sinder slapped him across the face. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm going to teach you about the Lord of Hosts, you little shit. I'll make of you a burnt offering!”
Josh laughed. “How can you be so smart, and miss the point so completely? Just get it over with, you sad old man. I don't want to live without her anyway.”
Sinder snarled, “Ask, and ye shall receive.” He wound back with the machete.
A pistol shot rang out, and the machete flew from Sinder's hand. He looked across the street.
Annie stepped out of the alleyway, an ancient six-gun in each hand. Her lever-action rifle was slung across her back. “Joshua Easton, that is about the stupidest load of horse-shit I ever did hear. I'm real sorry for your lady friend, but you got a whole life in front of you. Don't you pull that Romeo and Juliet shit on me.”
She fired off three shots from the revolvers, and the zombies between her and Sinder dropped dead. “And you leave the kid alone. You and me got a bone to pick.”
As Josh looked on, still held fast by the zombies, Sinder smiled evilly. “Do you really think your pop-guns are going to hurt me?”
Annie smirked in return. “Well, you just let me worry about that.”
***
Rachael and Alex still hung helplessly in the grip of hundreds of the undead. “I have to say.” Rachael turned her head as well as she could to look over at Alex. “This isn't looking so good.”
“I reckon it ain't.” He tried to look back, and a zombie jammed its fingers in his mouth. They pulled his hair again. “But I just remembered somethin'. I got one bullet left, the one the sheriff took out of my pistol at the diner. If I can just get my hand free . . .”
Rachael answered, “I'm afraid to ask what you're planning to do with your last bullet.”
“It . . . it can be for you. If'n you want.”
Rachael spared him a sideways glance. “A gentleman to the last.”
***
Annie kept her gun trained on Sinder, but her voice wavered. “So. You found Belden's ring. After all this time. Where was it?”
Sinder smiled. “Yes, the ring. As the Bible says, 'a child shall lead them.' In fact, a child found it in Ashford's garden, on a field trip with his fourth-grade class. He turned the ring in to the museum, in exchange for an Ashford Litter Busters patch. It was then I knew that I was chosen, that the Lord had picked me for this task.”
“Daniel Sinder, you are the dumbest shit that was ever shat upon the face of this blighted earth. That voice you've been hearin' all this time, whispering in your ear, that's Belden Ashford. And he's leading you by the nose. In a hundred and sixty years on this earth, you're the stupidest sap I ever laid my eyes on. You know what, I don't even wanna talk to you, you goddamned stupid jackass. Belden Ashford, come on out of there and have a word.”
Sinder smiled. A slow, deep laugh escaped from his lips. “You think I was fooled? Belden and I have formed a mutually beneficial partnership. But you two can have a chat. You obviously have some catching up to do.”
A change came over Sinder then, subtle, but unmistakable. His posture shifted, his bearing, the expression on his face. He suddenly looked older, hollowed out. “Peekaboo . . .” he rumbled.
“What the fuck?” said Josh.
“Ah, my pet,” said Belden Ashford. “How long has it been?”
“Not long enough, you son of a bitch,” Annie snarled. She fired off a shot. It vaporized against Ashford's forehead.
Belden Ashford managed to look wounded while still smiling. He touched a hand to his chest. “Why, is that any way to greet your father? Your creator?”
Tears sprang from Annie's eyes. She glared at him with cold rage. “How dare you? How dare you? I wasn't a daughter to you. I was a plaything. I was a toy. I was . . . I was a pet.”
Belden feigned hurt. “All I did . . . I did for love. You were my darling. My darling girl . . .”
A herd of zombies circled around wide, creeping up behind Annie. Josh tried to call out, but a cold, dead hand clamped down over his mouth. The zombies slithered closer to Annie.
Annie bared her teeth. “You're a goddamned monster. The things you . . . I was a child! I was a goddamned child! I was lost and scared. You tore me out of my own world and into this one. You didn't make me, you kidnapped me. And for what? For your own sick, twisted desires! You're gonna burn in Hell, Belden Ashford, and I'm gonna send you there.”
Again, that low, rumbling laugh. “Hell. What a quaint concept. You've aged poorly, pet. You're all used up, now. Perhaps, after I kill you, I'll make you a sister. Maybe she'll appreciate my love.”
“Goddamned son of a bitch. I have a name. My name is Annie!” She grimaced, and her pistol hands shook. She aimed at Belden's forehead.
Too late. Two zombies came up from behind and seized her wrists. The pistols fell to the dirt. Belden leered evilly. “Oh, what fun we're going to have with you. It'll be like old times, my . . . pet.”
***
Rachael and Alex watched as the zombies hauled Annie up and bore her toward Belden Ashford. “Your offer still open?” said Rachael. “About the bullet?”
Alex said, “I reckon.”
“I might just take you up on it. This isn't looking good.”
“Let's not throw in the towel quite yet,” Alex said. “We're still alive, so we ain't lost yet. Let's just give 'er a minute and see what happens next.”
“Why, what the hell do you think is going to—” Rachael began, then stopped, following his gaze.
To Emily.
Emily moan
ed. She sat up slowly. Her shirt was saturated in deep red, her skin pale white, and her hair tangled. She stumbled to her feet.
“Jesus, the poor girl,” said Rachael.
Emily shambled aimlessly toward the noise, toward Annie's sobs and Belden Ashford's acrid laugh. The other zombies turned and saw her. They parted for her like the Red Sea parted for Moses. They bowed and scraped, prostrated themselves as she passed.
The zombies holding Rachael and Alex let go, one by one, leaving the two standing, ignored, amongst a sea of the dead. Alex drew his pistol, pulled back the slide, and slipped his last bullet into the chamber. He reholstered the pistol. “Just in case,” he said.
Josh saw Emily. He whispered, “Oh, God, no.”
Ashford saw her from the corner of his eye. He shuddered, shook his head, and then suddenly he was Dan Sinder again. “Emily?” Sinder whispered pitifully. “Emily.”
Josh and Sinder both stood stock-still, watching the girl advance. Her hair was dusty and matted. Her blue eyes, dull and lifeless, wandered back and forth between Sinder and Josh.
“You've come to me,” whispered Sinder. “At last. You've come. Finally, we can be together. For eternity.”
Josh watched Emily as she shuffled toward Sinder. The zombies let go of his wrists and turned to stare at her. They all did.
“Emily?” Josh said. The girl stopped, turned toward him, and cocked her head. Josh stepped forward. He started to raise his arms.
“Don't do it, Joshua,” said Annie. “She's gone, and you know it. Don't kid yourself. You gotta move on. You gotta go on with your life.”
A tear ran down Josh's face. Slowly, he nodded. “I . . . I know.”
“You're a good kid. Now move outta the way.” Annie unslung the rifle from her back. “I gotta finish this.”
Josh stumbled back, away from Sinder, away from Emily, shouldering through the crowd of undead.
Alex Rains, Vampire Hunter (Book 2): Hell Night Page 26
