Lazarus: Enter the Deadspace

by Daniel Willcocks

  37

  Maddie lowered the CD case and stared at Lucas. “Really? Donny Osmond? That’s who you’re going with?”

  Lucas grinned, turned the radio up a couple beats. “No messing with the classics. You just don’t get music like that anymore.”

  “There’s a reason for that.”

  The words washed over Lucas. With a belly full of food, and his thirst quenched, both Lucas and Maddie had found themselves already putting the events at the gas station behind them. The whole thing now seeming like a freaky kind of dream they had shared. It was difficult to explain the high they felt at that moment, though. Perhaps it was the typical jovial tunes of his favourite singer’s songs. Maybe it could have been that, despite her trauma over her husband disappearing without a trace, Maddie was surprisingly good company – and boy was she easy on the eye. Or it could simply have been the five packs of Skittles, two Snickers bars, and three cans of Red Bull they demolished in the last hour.

  Now, with the darkness washing over the road ahead, they raced through yet another sleepy town.

  “Well, who’s yours, then?”

  Maddie thought for a moment, sticking her tongue out, feigning great difficulty in her decision. “Gotta be the Spice Girls.”

  “The Spice Girls?!” Lucas let go of the steering wheel in exaggerated shock.

  “Lucas, careful!” Maddie grabbed the steering wheel and pulled Donny back on the right track. In Lucas’ disbelief, he hadn’t anticipated the bend that appeared as if from nowhere.

  “Sorry.”

  “This is exactly why we should have the lights on, Dixon. I don’t care how many carrots you’ve eaten, don’t tell me a city boy can see in the dark.”

  “I told you earlier, lights will draw too much attention. The last thing we need is another obstacle before we make it to High Point. Unless you want to attract every feral that hides in this town.”

  Maddie thought about it a second. “I guess you’re right. Just keep your eyes ahead, okay?”

  The moon rose high, shining through a wispy layer of clouds as the road whipped beneath Donny’s tyres, providing Lucas with an arguable amount of light to see by. The trees lining the roads were skeletal, a couple of them moving with the wind and looking like a great giant ready to snatch the car and drag the victims in its clutches.

  Lucas reached over and clicked play on the CD changer. One click later and his head snuggled back into the headrest and the powerful sound of Donny Osmond’s ‘I’ll Make a Man Out of You’ filled the car. Maddie rolled her eyes and tried to hold in a laugh. Lucas couldn’t help himself, a chuckle escaping as he remembered how excited he had been when he had first heard that his childhood hero had been lined up to sing in the next Disney classic. Mulan had become a fast favourite of his, and not at all because of the storyline. Simply for this song. A power ballad that sang of coming of age and reaching your potential. What could be better? How many times had he sang the song at full blast to a woman only for them to melt into giggles as if he were doing it to be ironic? He really wasn’t. He just loved Donny Osmond.

  Maddie switched the volume down just as the intro began, leaving Lucas slightly deflated.

  “Why do you call them that?”

  “Call them what?”

  “Those people… the ones that have turned. Why do you call them ferals?”

  Lucas thought about this for a moment. For the first time since he’d joined up with Maddie, he thought of the young boy from the reenactment field. The only one to not become infected with the modified RevitaGo spray.

  If only there was a way to find out if the boy had made it. To see if the kid had survived.

  “Because the bomb has turned people wild. Like foxes, or badgers, or dogs with a disease. It’s the only thing I can think to compare them to that makes any sense.”

  “What about zombies?”

  Lucas grinned. “Nah. Not zombies.”

  The journey felt endless, and soon Maddie surrendered and found herself curled up in the passenger seat fast asleep. Lucas still felt the remnants of the sugar buzz and used it to his advantage, taking the roads as safely as he could in the low light conditions. He considered himself lucky, really. The longer he drove, the more he came to realise that he recognised these parts. He had driven this way a lot around the time the Revivers were at their peak. Lucas had family on the east coast, so would often traverse this highway to get back to work after a couple days off. The memory filled him with a shallow sadness as he remembered that there was nobody there anymore to visit.

  When they made it along another stretch of road lined with open country either side and into the next town, Lucas took a deep breath and sunk ever so slightly into his chair. The song playing on the stereo ended and was soon replaced by Donny Osmond’s ‘Puppy Love’.

  Lucas looked over at Maddie, snoring soundly in the chair. No matter how much he tried to push the feelings to the back of his head, it didn’t help. A tiny voice spoke to him, crooning in his ear in Donny Osmond’s voice. Why not? Why the hell not?

  Lucas closed his eyes and shook his head and felt waves of shame rolling over him simply for even thinking it.

  That’s Fred’s wife, dammit!

  On the road behind him, some hundred metres or so, a stray feral emerged, drawn by the car’s engine but was quickly left behind and disappeared over the horizon.

  What’s stopping you? The voice whispered, words like silk.

  Lucas gripped the steering wheel tightly. “No.”

  They passed the wreckage of two cars, not even registering them as they disappeared into his rearview.

  “Lucas, WATCH OUT!”

  Lucas slammed his foot on the brakes, the shape of the feral turning in horror. Maddie screamed beside him. The car skidded, then jolted roughly as the bonnet folded around the feral. One moment they saw the face, and the next it was rolling on the floor in front of the car.

  *

  Kurt looked down and saw the frame of the car, bent and wrapped around his body. There were dark blots on his clothes and he felt as though he should be clutching his stomach. The car had hit him. The car had hit him hard.

  And yet here he felt no pain in his gut whatsoever. No damage. Just a dull throb in his head that told him where he was.

  In the Deadspace.

  Kurt twisted his head in all directions, then detached himself from the car leaving a small cutout where his body fit perfectly like a sadistic jigsaw piece. Behind the cracked glass of the windscreen, he saw the horrified face of a pretty blonde woman. Next to her, the driver was hidden from view by the airbag that had burst forth from the impact. Kurt raised an eyebrow as he recognised the car.

  He heard movement behind and looked around for the source.

  “Lazarus?” he said to the cold inky world but was met with silence. He scanned the woods on either side of the road for signs of the charcoaled boy he had met before. Maybe he’d be able to help him again, take him to the door. Take him to Amy. “Lazarus?” he called again.

  “Kid… hey kid.” A man stumbled from a door that had appeared between the trees and staggered into the road. He looked out of breath as though he’d been running for a while. “You seen any grownups around here?”

  “What the…?”

  “Well?” he said. Kurt stood for a second, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The man came closer. He had a small beard and held a terrified but excited look.

  “I haven’t got all day,” the man spoke.

  Kurt shook his head.

  “Damn,” the man looked wired. As though he’d drained six cups of coffee and they were buzzing his system. His gaze didn’t meet Kurt’s for more than half a second at a time as he looked around himself for something that neither of them could see. “Wait…” His eyes finally connected with Kurt’s, looking like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He grabbed Kurt’s shoulders. “Who are you? They never said I’d find a boy here.”

  “I’m no one,” Kurt said as he took a s
tep back away.

  “Ani didn’t tell me the ghosts could talk.” He stroked his hands down Kurt’s arms as though brushing off dust, and beamed.

  Kurt ignored the man’s inference and pressed on. “I’m looking for someone. How did you do that door thing? I need to find a door.”

  The man, seeming to pay no attention to Kurt’s question, just continued in a kind of stunned admiration. “You’re real, aren’t you?” he said. “You’re not dead.”

  “No, I’m not dead. Well, at least… I think not.”

  “Okay well… look… I don’t know how you got here, but you should go back. It’s not safe here. It’s not safe for normal people. This place is a passage for the dead, and those who linger too long may find themselves unable to return.”

  “Even visitors?” Kurt said as the man walked towards another door that had appeared on the other side of the road. “That’s what Lazarus called me.”

  “Lazarus?” The man paused with his hands on the handle. “John 11: 1–44. ‘I am the resurrection and the life.’” He looked at the floor for a moment, then back at Kurt. “Be careful, kid. This place isn’t as safe as you might think.”

  With that, the man opened and walked through the door.

  Kurt stood for a moment, unsure what to make of what he’d just heard. Was that a quote from the bible? Who the hell was that man? Kurt felt a funny feeling settle in his stomach and suddenly felt uneasy. He watched as the door disappeared from sight, and thought of Lazarus – the boy who claimed himself as a guide to this dark realm. Did that man know something that Kurt didn’t?

  As if summoned by the sound of his name, Kurt heard a rush of air and turned to find the burned boy stood next to him. His body emerging from the shadow made by the car.

  “Hello again, Kurt?” Lazarus said. “Who was that man?”

  Kurt shrugged. He could feel the residual heat pouring off Lazarus’ body. “He didn’t say.”

  Lazarus’ skin cracked, the lines between the dry plates glowing a dim orange. “I don’t want you talking to that man anymore or any of them. They have no right to this world. They have no right to know me. This world isn’t for them. They’re dangerous people. They scar people like us, children, innocents, you know that? They’re not to be trusted.” He grabbed Kurt by the shoulders and unleashed a burning pain where their skin touched. “Kurt … tell me you understand. I need to know. Kurt?”

  Kurt pulled away, the pain subsiding the minute they disconnected. “What the hell?”

  Lazarus withdrew, eyes wide as if pained by his sudden outburst. “Kurt… I’m sorry… I…” he began to recede into the shadows, melting like an ice-cream in the hot sun.

  Kurt reached for him, realising that he needed his guide again if he was ever going to find his way back to Amy’s door. A moment later, there was a tap on his shoulder a pain that felt like a static shock, and Lazarus was on the other side of him, leaning casually on the bonnet of the car.

  “How the hell do you do that?”

  “This isn’t hell, Kurt,” Lazarus smiled, and then pointed ahead in the middle of the road where a door had appeared. The same frosted glass with the same dim flickering lightbulb.

  Kurt ran to the door, his heart aflutter. He grabbed for the handle, jimmied it and turned, strained his arms until he could see the tendons.

  But still, it wouldn’t budge.

  Lazarus began to chuckle from the car.

  “Why won’t it open? There has to be a way to open it!”

  Lazarus melted into the floor, his black shape slithering towards Kurt as a shadow, then reformed next to the doorframe where he casually leaned on one arm.

  “It’s difficult to say. Maybe your sister doesn’t want to see you. Maybe you’re just not strong enough. This place, the Deadspace isn’t made for visitors. It’s for the resting – the dead.”

  “Am I not dead?” Kurt said, looking at the blood on his shirt. “Am I not dead enough?”

  “Not at all,” Lazarus said a wicked grin on his face. “Not. At. All.”

  *

  The force of the impact shot the airbag straight into his face and, by the time the car stopped, Lucas was still battling the material down. His head felt foggy, his body bruised. But that must have been nothing compared to the feral they hit.

  He rubbed his neck, his muscles sore even though out of the three of them he had gotten the least of the impact. He craned his head over the bonnet of the car. There was one leg visible in front of the beams of the headlights, the rest of the body either under the car or somewhere further back down the road. Next to him, Maddie sat wide-eyed, chest rising and falling deeply. There was a cut on her forehead and blood trickled along the length of her nose.

  “What the hell was that?” she rasped, unable to get much more out.

  Lucas clumsily folded the airbag, unclipped his seatbelt, and leaned closer to Maddie. She looked back at him. Her pupils dilated and her mouth flapped wordlessly. He held her face in his hands, locked eyes, and counted. With each number he took a breath, indicating she do the same. “One. Two. Three,” and on it went.

  When Maddie’s breathing resembled something close to normal, Lucas said, “Wait here,” and awkwardly climbed out the door, unsteady on his legs. He walked around the car, scared of what he might find. Unsure whether a collision with a car would be enough to kill a feral outright. He remembered the squashed and pulped face of the feral at his house that had been crushed by the wardrobe and shivered. Not another one please. But instead, Lucas saw the body of a boy, face down, half shadowed by the body of the car. Lucas looked at the kid’s wrist and saw a lump that shouldn’t have been there.

  “Hello? Kid?”

  Maddie watched through the smashed glass.

  Lucas got down on his knees and gently teased the kid’s head around, bringing an ear to his mouth. There was no sound of breath, and only the shallowest rise and fall of his chest – the kid was in bad shape. He lowered the boy’s head and pulled him into the moonlight, seeing his face for the first time. He nearly jumped back in shock, close to dropping the boy’s head on the asphalt.

  “You?!”

  Of course, there was no reply.

  In a panic, he picked the boy up and threw him over his shoulder. He should have known better, really. He was a scientist; he knew that moving an unconscious body without due care could lead to further injuries. But what the hell else was he going to do? Call the ambulance? Not only did he doubt that they would come, but how was he going to contact them?

  “What’s going on?” Maddie asked, finding her voice now, as Lucas bent to lower the kid into the car, then stopped. Something caught his eye further down the road. A blink of light. Almost a camera flash.

  “Did you see that?” Lucas asked, trying hard to find it again.

  “See what? What’re you doing? Who’s the… Did we hit him?”

  But Lucas had already thrown Kurt over his shoulder, and had begun jogging down the road towards the source of the light. Just ahead, over a neat line of grass off to the side of the road, were a line of houses. Lucas trained his eyes along the row, trying to determine from which house he had seen it. There had been no subtlety. Lucas had seen a curtain shift, a light pour from the window, and the figure of someone disappearing to switch off the light.

  But which one was it?

  Lucas turned left, followed a path through a gate and banged on the front door of the house. When there was no answer, he hopped the neat flowerbed that bordered the neighbour’s house and knocked again.

  “Lucas put the kid down. We need to find medical assistance.”

  “What the hell do you think I’m doing?” Lucas replied through gritted teeth.

  After three more failed attempts at finding the house, Lucas found himself ready to give up, until he looked up at the next house and saw the curtains flap. No light this time, but someone was definitely watching from their crow’s nest.

  “Hey! Let us in!”

  “Lucas, keep it down.�
��

  Another hop and Lucas was at the door now, banging so loudly the sound bounced around the street like a pinball ball. He took a step back, adjusted Kurt’s weight on his shoulder. Come on, come on. He banged again.

  He felt Maddie’s arms pulling back at him on his shoulder but fought against her. He wasn’t sure if it was the collision, the ludicrousness of the situation, or his reuniting with the boy, but emotion drowned out all common sense. Maddie pawed at his shoulder again, words falling off him as though they were coated in marshmallows. It was only as he heard her scream again that he turned back to see what it was she was seeing – two ferals, a boy and a girl, racing down the street towards them. Limbs flying as they ran.

  It took five sharp raps at the door before he heard footsteps on the other side, could see the shape of someone cautiously approaching. Another three to make them realise they were in a hurry. The door inched open, revealing the face of a young girl. Her eyes were wide, and her skin was almost translucent in the moonlight.

  “What do you—?”

  Lucas kicked the door, forcing the girl backwards. He uttered a brief, “Sorry,” as he took his best guess around the house, finding a long leather sofa padded with cushions. He eased the boy down and kneeled beside him, performed a quick check for breath again, struggled to find any, and pulled off his jacket. He heard the front door shut and the sounds of scratching and feral calls on the other side, helpless to reach their target.

  Maddie stood in the living room doorway, simply watching. The girl appeared a second later and paused next to her, watching the scene with frightful eyes, her nose now decorated with a smatter of red. She saw the boy on the sofa and clapped her hands to her mouth.

  “Oh my! Is he… Is he…?”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Lucas was far too in the zone to even acknowledge that she was there. He shone a small torch in both of the kid’s eyes, finding no dilation of the pupils. He rifled through his coat, digging deep into his pockets but couldn’t find the thing that he was looking for. He looked up at Maddie. “Where is it? Where did I put it?”