by Joss Ware
She left Thelma and Louise tied to a large tree when it became clear that the path to whatever the birds were scavenging was through heavy trees and brush, and she walked the rest of the way.
Moments later, standing on a large patch of concrete overgrown with veins of grass, Selena looked down at two bodies. The stench was rancid, as zombie flesh always was.
And in the daylight, she could see the horrible green-gray tinge to their skin, the abnormal size of their pores, the way the bodies were rippled with stretch marks from being forced out of proportion. The hair on one was threadbare and gray-blond; on the other, it was just as thin, just as bland but with a darker tinge.
Their skulls were bashed in like eggshells, one from the back, one from the side, slick with dark red blood that still oozed but was beginning to dry. Their hugely knuckled hands, with nails grimy and sharp, curled into the ground like crab legs. Flies, ants, even maggots ran in and out and through the flesh and worn clothing, and the shadows of waiting hawks flashed on the ground in a similarly eerie pattern. Remorse and grief had her turning away; the rank smell and the disturbing sight had her stomach rebelling. She vomited into the bushes until her belly hurt and then returned to the scene, letting the guilt and the anger dig a little deeper into her belly.
It killed her to know that the souls of these two creatures—these people—were trapped forever in limbo.
Wounded with guilt—for if she’d gone out last night, she might have saved them—and yet resolved, she found some brush and brittle sticks and used them to burn the corpses. There was no sense in allowing them any further indignities.
And she went on to Yellow Mountain, heavy and bleak.
Theo didn’t see Selena all the rest of the day. He learned that she’d gone to Yellow Mountain on an errand, and as the sun made its descent, he began to wonder if she would return before dark.
Or if she’d purposely stay away so that she could go out and do whatever she did without having to face him.
The lower the sun sank, the tighter his gut grew and the more certain he became that that was her plan.
He tried to focus on his other projects, and working on his idea with the pinball machines, but more often than not, he was standing at the eastern window of the arcade, watching for Selena to approach.
Lou popped into his consciousness again, felt around and obviously sensed Theo’s unease and general pissed-offness, and left after a brief connection.
Dinner was meagerly attended by Sam, who scarfed down his food, and Vonnie, who was chatty but said nothing of import and seemed to only wish to fill the silence. Frank didn’t join them, for he was apparently busy fixing something in the barn.
When the sun finally slipped below the horizon, and there was still no sign of Selena, Theo knew what he had to do.
It took him longer than he liked to pry Frank away from the rototiller he was trying to fix; and had to lend his sharper vision to assist Frank in fixing a loose wire before he would help him pick the right horse. They saddled a mustang and Theo slung a satchel over his torso. The elderly man’s grumbling about being interrupted in his work followed him beyond the walls.
The clank of the gates closing behind Theo made a sound of finality.
The darkening world was still and silent but for the howl of a distant wolf and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Zombies weren’t the only danger, of course; wolves, feral cats, and even tigers and lions prowled the night.
But Theo had the advantage of agility, speed, and height on the horse, as well as a lit torch in one hand and supplies in his satchel. He had no concern for himself and his own safety. Generally, the wild animals would have no reason to attack, especially a much larger creature, unless they perceived a threat.
Theo’s mouth tightened more and more as he rode swiftly along what passed for a road to Yellow Mountain. By now, the last bit of sunlight was gone and the world was lit by a profusion of stars and a healthy chunk of moon. But the trees brought thick shadows and blocked the light, making it harder for the horse to see his path.
Theo. Lou filtered in, breaking his twin’s concentration.
You okay? Theo responded briefly. Busy.
Okay.
He listened for the telltale sounds of Selena’s wagon, or the calls of the zombies. A twinge of smoke caught his nostrils; someone had recently been burning something nearby.
No more than two miles into the five-mile trip, Theo heard them. He paused for a moment to catch the direction of the sound, his fingers tightening on the torch. He had bottle bombs in his satchel, and the torch would of course work to beat them back, to smash a skull. Destroying the brain was the only way to kill a ganga.
The hair on the back of Theo’s neck rose when he realized the groans were closer than he’d thought; the wind had carried them away. Now, in a lull, the sounds came through loud and clear and were just north of the pathway.
Where there were zombies, there might be Selena.
He made a quick decision and veered off the path, stomach tight and heavy. As the horse darted through the underbrush, he thought he heard something else in the distance. The cries were growing wilder, more desperate, and he recognized the sound.
They’d found someone. Selena was there.
He kicked the horse and urged him faster, leaning over the long, strong neck, his mane flying in Theo’s face.
Selena! was all he could think. I’m coming. A dark horror stabbed him somewhere, filling his mind and heart. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
“Hurry, hurry!” he begged his mustang. “Faster!”
At that moment, the horse lost his footing and stumbled, then caught himself and reared back as something came darting out of the darkness. Theo tumbled off with the torch, and landed in a heap on the ground, barely managing to hold on to the flaming staff. As he scrambled to his feet, the spooked mustang ran off, leaving Theo on foot and out of breath.
But he still heard the sounds of insistent, desperate zombies and, ignoring the pain radiating from his body, ran toward them, bolting through bushes and around trees and rusty cars.
There were horrifying sounds and as he came closer, through the trees, he could see the flickering of orange lights and eyes. He ran, using his free hand to dig in his bag for a bottle bomb, ready to go. All he had to do was light the rag stuffed into it for a wick, and toss it into the mass.
Suddenly, he was there, coming upon the scene of a gathering of zombies. They were fighting to get to something, wailing and moaning and clawing.
“Selena!” he shouted, trying to spot her in the center of half a dozen of the monsters.
And then he tripped over something in the shadows, something soft and alive. He heard the body’s groan as he flew through the air again, landing on his face and arms over a fallen tree trunk. The torch fell this time, and as Theo, trying to drag his breath back into his punched diaphragm, turned back to pick it up, he saw the gleam of silver in the light.
Silver hair.
Long silver hair.
It was an instant—the image in an instant—and the mental connection . . . and he knew it was Lou.
Theo hesitated for only a moment, somehow registering that faint groan, then he shouted his brother’s name even as he dashed toward the huddle of desperate zombies. He swung the torch, calling for Lou, shouting for Selena, wild and berserk as he tried to fight his way into the group.
The torch frightened the monsters, and Theo used it to drive them away, smashing a skull with brute force propelled by fear; whirling and crushing another one’s legs, then bringing the torch down on its head.
In the midst of the melee, he caught sight of jean-clad legs on the ground, limp and streaked with something dark, and he didn’t allow himself to think about it. He just grabbed, and pulled with one hand as he whaled with the other. The monsters weren’t moving back, and claws drove into his skin; the smell of the creatures filled his nostrils and he felt one of his arms laid open. Something wet and warm streamed fr
om it, and one of the monsters turned its attention to him.
Theo slammed the torch down on its head with all of his force and stumbled back, pulling Selena’s ankle with him, trying to extricate her from the mess.
All at once, the zombies changed. They shifted, their groans altered and became higher and tight, and two of them peeled off from the group, staggering away as if called. Theo slammed another one with his club and tugged on the ankle with a hand now slick with his—and someone else’s—blood.
“Stop!” A shout reached his ears.
Theo spun to see Selena burst from the trees, a red-glowing orb bouncing on the cord around her neck.
The zombies lunged for her, staggering and swarming, all at once leaving the body Theo had been trying to save. He looked down and recognized the grimy, blood-streaked face.
Sam.
Selena braced herself as the zombies surged toward her. They left behind, released, whatever victim they’d been attacking, clawing for the crystal instead.
“Meeeeeeeeeeee.”
The glowing stone was hot in her hand, but she held it, waiting for the onslaught, tears of frustration and anger wet on her face. “Nowwwwwmeeeeeeee.”
“No!” she screamed again as Theo whirled toward one of the creatures, slamming a large, flaming branch onto its head, crushing it like a melon. “Stop!”
He shouted something back at her, his face suddenly illuminated by the torch, stark and wide-eyed. A horrified mask. She couldn’t hear him, and suddenly found herself swarmed by the zombies as they reached for her in familiar desperation.
“Noooowwwwwwww meeeeeeee nooowwwwww.”
The sounds filled her ears like a horrible, deep wind drowning out everything but those desperate cries for salvation.
She touched one and looked into a young man’s eyes, taking on the jolt of his life as the light of his soul died from the orange eyes, the impact battering her like a succession of stones. Tears burned her eyes. Theo, Theo, he didn’t understand. She tried to catch her breath, hold herself steady as she drew in a foul-scented gasp of air, ready for another. “ ’Elllllllpppp ’eeeeeeeeee.”
Another shout, more insistent, human, caught her ears, and suddenly the flaming torch was flailing into the cluster of zombies clamoring to her. One fell back, making an opening, and Selena turned toward Theo, rage in her face as he pushed his way through.
“Leave me!” she shouted, pushing at him even as she reached for another clammy, rotted-fleshed hand. “Get away!”
She couldn’t understand what he said over the horrible cries that were growing more desperate—“I—am!” she thought she heard—but he grabbed her hand and dragged her away, using his torch to drive the monsters back.
Selena fought him, hating him, slamming him with her fists and shouting at him with fury and fear, but he ignored her, pulling her away.
He shouted something over her head—“Who!”—and she saw, with a shock, another figure staggering to its feet in the shadows. Long light hair shone in the light as he—she?—came upright.
Theo held on to Selena, dragged her away from the monsters and shouted, “NOW!”
Even as she fought, the arc of something flaming cut through the night, flying from the long-haired person to the cluster of zombies held at bay by Theo’s torch. “Noooooo!” she screamed as Theo shoved her away, falling on top of her as they crashed to the ground.
The explosion was a loud, shattering pop and the night flared golden. Debris rained down on them, on the ground and into the trees around them.
And then, there was silence but for their gasping breaths.
Selena lay on the ground beneath Theo, unmoving, frozen with despair and breathless with betrayal. The grass and dirt was cold and damp beneath her fingers, and she lay there, her face pressing into it, tears seeping into the soil even after he moved off her. He killed them. Killed them all. Left them trapped.
She could have saved them. And he killed them.
She hated him. Her insides were tearing apart.
“Selena.” Theo’s voice was urgent. His hand touched her shoulder, and she felt the sting of his betrayal.
She rolled over and gave him a look of loathing. “How could y—”
“Selena, please. Stop. It’s Sam.” He’d taken her shoulders and was looking into her eyes. That mask that had tightened his features had changed to something else.
“Sam?” The expression on Theo’s face made her go cold. Her knees weakened. “What is it?”
It was a dream. Everything after that was a horrible nightmare.
She turned—was turned; and walked—was led—to an awful scene.
A man with long silver hair knelt, bent, next to an inert body. Sam.
Her Sammy. Illuminated by a generous moon that had somehow found the center of her world.
His torso and legs were a mass of slashing cuts, one arm was mere ribbons. His face, his handsome face had scratches on it, and dark, wet blood was everywhere.
From the zombies. The very zombies she’d tried to save.
Oh God. Her knees buckled, and someone caught her.
“He tried to save me,” said the old man, looking up from where he crouched.
Sammy wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead.
She half fell, half knelt next to him, touched her son, watched his mouth move and his eyes slowly open. Focus on her. Her heart leapt, her clammy hands closed around his bloody ones, and she pressed her lips together.
And then she saw the glittering gray cloud filtering in the moonlight, coiling and rising above him.
Chapter 12
Not my Sammy. Not my boy!
Selena repeated those words over and over in her mind all the way home. She didn’t remember any part of the trip back, just Theo’s solid presence next to her, carrying her boy—her boy!—in his arms. She battled the dark wave of hatred, of undulating fury that threatened to set her to screaming.
She kept a hand on Sam’s arm, terrified at how cold it felt, watching the silvery gray cloud around him, trying to convince herself that it was dust lit by moonlight, or fireflies, or something else.
And the underlying anger fueled her powerful steps. The memories of the carnage, the scene in the clearing—Theo flailing and whaling, crushing skulls and pulling her away, shouting something in her face that she couldn’t understand. The death, the blood, her son. Her son.
She was dully aware of the conversation around her between Theo and this other man, an older man with long hair who seemed to know Theo.
“He tried to save me,” the older man, whose name appeared to be Lou, said. “They came from nowhere. No moaning. No warning.”
“I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know it was you,” Theo said, his voice taut. “If I’d listened—I didn’t get there in time.”
“But what was Sam doing out?” Selena managed to ask, coming out of her darkness for a moment. “Why was he outside the walls?”
No one had an answer, but she wondered, deep in the pit of her stomach. She’d come from Yellow Mountain where she’d seen Jennifer. The girl had ignored her for the most part, except for one awkward moment when their eyes had caught. Selena had seen her talking and flirting with one of the other young men—one with whom she’d had an on-again, off-again relationship. She suspected Sam’s nighttime excursion had something to do with that.
But she couldn’t conjecture. She had to focus on now.
When they finally got Sammy into the bed that had belonged to Theo—Selena chose it for superstitious reasons, hoping for another miracle—she at last had the chance to examine him.
It was bad.
Behind her, when she drew away what was left of Sam’s shirt, Theo breathed, “Jesus.” He turned to the man named Lou. “We’ve got to get Elliott here.”
Lou said something in return, but Selena didn’t hear him because Sam had opened his eyes. “Mom,” he whispered.
She touched his forehead, trying not to let him see the fear in her eyes, the knowledge. �
��Sammy. I’m here. We’re going to get you fixed up. Frank’s going to get Cath.”
“Is he . . . all right?” Sam said in a low, ruptured voice. “The man.”
Selena blinked back burning tears. This was her son. This was the man she’d raised.
“I’m here,” said Lou, moving so that Sam could see him. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Good,” Sam said. He closed his eyes and, terrified, Selena looked up and around to see if the cloud was there, and if it was changing.
Her heart plummeted when she saw the gray sparkles, though not yet turning blue, swirling so beautifully like silvery dust motes. No. Go the fuck away. Leave my son.
She didn’t know how long she sat there with him; she knew that Cath came at some point and examined the deep gouges in Sam’s abdomen, adding her own salves to the ones Vonnie had applied. Selena saw that Cath’s face was taut and unyielding, that everyone seemed to speak in a hush, and that, in the corner, there were a man and a woman surrounded by a wavering blue glow. Waiting.
But the cloud stayed gray, and she prayed to keep it from blue. Because blue meant the end.
“Selena.” The voice, accompanied by a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder, finally broke into her thoughts.
It was Theo, and he brought his face close to hers as if determined to get, and keep, her attention. His eyes were soft and brown, but determined. “You have to rest. Please.”
“No,” she said, turning back to Sam. “I can’t leave him.”
But as she gazed down at him, one of the blue-haloed figures came from the corner and stood beside the bed. Selena couldn’t see her feet. It was a woman, with long dark hair; and when she looked at Selena, it was as if she were seeing herself in a murky mirror.
A shot of recognition zipped through her. Mother? she whispered.
“Selena,” Theo’s voice penetrated again. “You’re dead on your feet. Come with me.”
Go with him.
She allowed Theo to take her away then, assured that her mother would be with Sam until she returned.
