CRYERS

by North, Geoff

  Angel’s pa was dead. The beating the old lawman had laid on him hadn’t killed Jakob, but it had left him defenseless against the creatures that finished the Rites off for good. Angel’s mother had made the decision to leave him behind in the madness that followed. Angel hated her for that, but it had saved their lives. They had fled from the pit and ran south.

  Now the two women were following the dirty brown river towards Burn—or where they hoped Burn was. Folks there had to know. They needed to be warned of what Anna and Angel had seen and the horrors they’d been through.

  They trudged away from the hole they’d burrowed into earlier that afternoon when a herd of rollers had threatened to trample them flat. They had no food and the river’s water was unsafe to drink. They had no flint to start a fire and nothing to burn. Now the sun was setting and it was getting cold. Angel was thirsty and hungry. Her pa was dead. She wished they could go back inside the animal hole and die.

  “Don’t wanna rely on nobody. Don’t wanna go nowhere.”

  “The Gods are good, Angel. They give life, and they take it away. Be grateful fer what you still have.”

  Angel rolled her eyes as her mother walked off on ahead. She was always going on about the Gods and how they provided in the most desperate times. Fuck the Gods, Angel thought. What had they ever done for her? She’d been born uglier than a pail of shit and had never kissed a boy. Hadn’t even touched one. The only man in her life was dead, and still Angel’s ma praised her kind and forgiving Gods.

  She spoke out without realizing. “There ain’t no Gods.”

  Anna turned and slapped her across the face. “Foul little thing. After all I done fer you…Your father gave his life fer us, and that’s what comes outta yer dirty mouth?”

  Angel rubbed her cheek. “I’m sorry, Ma.”

  “You’d better be. We’re still breathing air. We’re walking on our feet and moving forward into better days. Folks in Burn will appreciate us when we bring word of what we seen. They’ll be thankful and understandin’ of the hardships we been through. I imagine they’ll even provide you with a man all of yer own—the best they have to offer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, girl? Being married to the most handsome lad in Burn?”

  Angel didn’t answer. The last boy that had paid her any mind was the one they’d met a few days before settling in Rudd—the tall, skinny one with the pretty blue eyes. The one that had been traveling with the mean old bastard that pounded her pa half to death. They were responsible for this. A part of Angel hoped they were already dead—that the grey-skins had eaten them along with all the other poor souls trapped inside the pit. But still—she had shared an apple with the boy. He had spoken to her. They had made a connection, and Angel figured he might be willing to show her more if they ever met up again.

  Anna continued preaching on about the Gods and how good things would be for them in Burn. Angel took to walking backwards after a while and saw three white forms bobbing along the horizon.

  “I’ll see you get the finest looking boy from the richest family. We won’t want for nothin’ no more…Who knows—maybe the Gods will see fit to give me a second husb—”

  “Ma, we have to run.”

  “We won’t need to run anymore, Angel. Once we’ve settled in Burn, there’ll be no more running—no more movin’ from village to village. We’ll be respected. The Gods will give us men and we’ll be happy.”

  “Ma—we have to run. Now!”

  A shriek echoed out over the plains. Anna stopped talking about dreams that would never be. She looked past her terrified daughter and saw the howlers.

  The hole in the ground had belonged to them, Angel realized as she pushed her mother forward. They had spent the better part of the day crammed inside it trying to escape the heat of the afternoon sun. It had reeked of urine and something like human sweat. The smell alone should’ve been enough to keep them away. Her father would have known better. He never would’ve allowed them anywhere near a howler hole. But her father wasn’t with them anymore. Angel and her mother had to learn these things on their own now. At least they hadn’t been caught inside the hole. Angel thanked the Gods for that one cruel miracle as she ran past her mother. Anna was still in the long dress she’d worn to the Rites. The faded white cloth caught at her ankles and gathered between her knees.

  Angel looked over her shoulder. The howlers were picking up speed, running on all fours. She saw the grey gouges in their faces where the eyeballs had been ripped out at birth. One of them screamed again—a blood-curdling wail that hurt her ears. Angel saw its teeth, terrible yellow things filed down to sharp points.

  Angel’s mother made a wail of her own as she fell flat on her face in the dirt. You shouldn’t have worn the dress, Ma. The howlers were slowing, almost on top of her. Anna screamed at Angel. She was probably pleading for her daughter to save her. Angel chose to believe she was telling her to save herself.

  Anna’s screams were silenced, and Angel ran faster. She looked back one last time and saw the creatures tearing into her mother’s flesh with long, grey nails. Two of them took hold of her arms and started to pull her apart. They howled and spat at each other, fighting for a greater piece of their prize. The third one had disappeared up under the dress and begun to claw at the meat of her inner thighs. The cloth turned red and one of her arms popped away at the shoulder. Anna’s body flopped down to the ground again, twitching.

  They don’t know I’m here. They can’t see…They can only smell and taste Ma.

  Angel turned away from the last of her family and ran for Burn, or where she imagined Burn to be. Maybe the Gods existed after all. Perhaps they had named her Angel for something other than her looks.

  Chapter 49

  “How’s our patient doing?” Lothair asked.

  Sara continued away from her house without answering, carrying the empty pail at her side.

  Lothair set after her. “Ignoring me won’t make us go away. You should be thankful you’re still alive and free to walk the streets.”

  Sara made a wide berth around the thing called Aleea. She was sitting in the middle of the road, chewing on a section of human leg. The rest of the corpse was splayed all around her in pieces. “You call this free?”

  “It’s more than the others would’ve allowed. Granting you access to the well is very magnanimous of me.”

  Sara didn’t understand half the words he spoke. These monsters from under the ground talked differently. They looked different. And they definitely didn’t act like any other people Sara had ever known. If these were actually ancient humans from a lost age as Lawson had suggested—if they really had been human beings—how had any of them survived? What race of people could live on the flesh of their own kind?

  “I asked you a question,” Lothair said.

  A woman Sara knew burst out of a dilapidated house, screaming. She ran across the road in front of them and fled down a back alley. The grey-skinned man with the white beard strode out of the building and walked calmly into the shadows after her.

  Sara could hardly find her voice. “What?”

  “Our patient—how is the Lawman coming along?”

  “He… He hasn’t woken up. I don’t think he’s going to.”

  “That would be a shame,” Lothair replied. “I have so many questions that need answering. You will do your best to see he recovers, won’t you?”

  Sara had reached the well. She looked at it dumbly, forgetting what it was, and why it was sitting out in the middle of the street. She had gone to learning with that screaming woman. Her name was Tammer, and she had a husband, children. There was a stone sitting on the well’s wood base. Sara picked it up and dropped it into her pail. She hooked the long rope tied to the bar above and lowered the pail down. She imagined the water coming back up being dark red. Rudd’s streets were littered with carcasses. Puddles of gore had begun to accumulate, and the blood of her people was seeping into the earth. She prayed Kay wasn’t one of them.

  Lothair
Eichberg took hold of the rope and started to reel it back up for her. Sara stared off into space. “Pull yourself together, woman. I want the lawman to recover. I need my questions answered.”

  The pail reappeared, sloshing clear water over its sides. Sara removed the stone and unhooked the rope from the handle. “I don’t understand…You’re killing everyone. Why do need one man kept alive so badly—what do you expect to learn from him?”

  “There are more like us. Hundreds more still sleeping beneath the ground—thousands more waiting to be awoken in a dozen installations throughout North America. I will revive all of them. But I need to know if this world can support us. I need to know where the villages and cities are located to keep them sustained.”

  “You think Lawson will tell you where the towns are? You believe he’ll just lead you from village to village and allow you to slaughter everyone along the way?”

  Lothair took the pail from her as she started back home. “It’s been a very long time since I loved a woman—centuries have passed since I’ve felt anything. But I remember what lengths a man will go to protect the things he cherishes, the sacrifices he will make to protect those he loves. He will tell me what I need to know if I promise to let you live—to let those others my great-great-granddaughter has become attached to go free.”

  Another scream sounded in the still, evening air. Somebody was being eaten alive, or being forced to watch. It sounded like Tammer. “Why Lawson? Why not get your answers from someone else?”

  “We’ve questioned others. No one knows where the populations are. There is Burn to the south, but beyond that? Your people don’t know much, Sara. They are ignorant and stupid. The Lawman managed to find my facility. He equipped himself with ancient weapons and very nearly killed my great-granddaughter. I believe him to be well-traveled. He will show us to others towns. He owes me.”

  They were back in front of Sara’s home. The monster that had fed on Lode’s brains was sitting on the step, picking at crud beneath his finger nails with the stubs of new teeth. He spit something pink onto the ground.

  “She co-operating?” he asked. His orange eyes were locked on her. Sara looked away from the ravaged remains of face Lode had beaten to a pulp.

  “She will keep the Lawman alive, Colonel. She has no other choice.”

  Sara went around him, spilling water along the way. She slammed the door shut behind her but Strope kept his voice low. “This is bullshit. His injuries are severe, but they aren’t life threatening. I’ve treated men in worse shape, and so have you. Why are we letting this go on?”

  Lothair pointed to a clay bowl sitting next to the colonel. It was half-filled with red liquid and blobs of purple-grey. “What is that?”

  “Some liver and lung. Go ahead, I’m full.”

  Eichberg took the bowl and poured the contents into his mouth. He licked the edge clean and belched. He sat next to the colonel and they watched as Leonard Dutz appeared from around the corner of the building, dragging the top half of a human corpse in one hand and a dead dog in the other. Lenny spotted the two and grinned. He sat in the dirt and popped one of the animal’s brown eyes out with his thumb. Lothair recalled a cat he’d owned as a child that would present him with its catch of the day—a mouse, a bird, whatever it could get its paws on. Leonard reminded him of that cat. Proud and appreciative. He offered the eyeball out to Eichberg and Lothair shook his head. Leonard tossed it into his mouth and swallowed it whole.

  “Let the woman think she’s still useful,” Lothair said. “Giving people just the smallest piece of hope can work wonders…believe me, I know. When the Lawman has recovered enough he will show where more towns are. We’ll head west, thawing other cryers in other facilities along the way.”

  “Why are you calling us cryers now?”

  A look of disappointment spread across Leonard’s face as he discovered the dog only had two eyeballs to gobble down. He sucked at the last bit of juice in each socket and turned his attention to the human corpse next to him. “There’s a secret installation on the west coast Edna tried to keep hidden from me. I believe the research conducted there may help us…make us stronger…make the takeover of this new world easier.”

  Strope looked at him suspiciously. “Secret installation…tried to keep hidden. How would you know any of this? Edna can hardly speak.”

  “There are other forms of communication.”

  The colonel was still eyeing him warily. Lothair felt he may have said too much to the man. He was a soldier, he obeyed orders, and he still saw Eichberg as his superior. Strope was following a thousand year old command from the military to protect ABZE Corporation and all of its holdings. But how far could it go? When would a centuries-old order no longer apply? And then there was Edna to consider. Michael was a part of Eichberg’s family. Edna had been his lover. They were emotionless and no longer human, but was the colonel’s obedience a certainty? Lothair couldn’t trust him completely. He lied to the man. “I found the information back in the computers on level E. It wasn’t complete…some data was missing. But believe me, the facility exists. It’s out there.”

  The colonel rose to his feet. “I’m going to check on Edna and Jenny.”

  Lothair tested his control over him again. “When you’re done, take a tour of the town’s perimeter. Make sure we haven’t lost anyone in the moat.”

  “All the bridges have been knocked down except the one heading south. Aleea’s been there most of the day. I doubt anyone’s desperate enough to drown in all that shit and piss for a way out.”

  Lothair called out to him as he walked away. “Still…it’s good to be sure. I saw Aleea taking a dinner break near the well. Walk the perimeter and check on the bridge until she returns.”

  Strope saluted the air without turning back and marched off into the gloom. It was a disrespectful action, one that troubled Eichberg even further. He watched Leonard eat. The boy offered up half of the corpse’s heart to him. Lothair shook his head again. For the first time in centuries he didn’t feel all that hungry.

  Chapter 50

  Trot had cried when he learned the lawman was still alive, and not much to Cobe’s surprise, so did Willem. Jenny’s father had told her the Lawson was still breathing—how close to death he didn’t say—and Jenny had told them. That didn’t surprise Cobe either. The lawman had said it before; he was too stubborn and too stupid to die. They had also learned Sara was looking after him. That only left Kay missing in their growing family of has-beens, orphans, and misfits. Cobe never had the chance to get to know Kay better. They had only spoken that one night before the Rites, but the girl was still on his mind. The way her fair hair seemed to glow in the moonlight, the dusting of freckles on her forehead and on the bridge of her nose. Those light blue eyes like two frozen pools. He wished he could hear the soft whisper of her voice one more time.

  His day-dream ended when he remembered she was the lawman’s daughter. How would Lawson react if he knew of Cobe’s feeling towards her? A guilty part of him was thankful the lawman was bedridden and unable to do anything about it.

  “What’re you thinking about?”

  Jenny’s voice startled him. All had been relatively still for an hour or so. The obese woman hadn’t come for anyone in quite a while. It was the middle of the night and the big room was dark, enveloped completely in black. Cobe had lost count of how many people were still left hanging in there with them. The sound of ropes straining against wooden timber had quieted as well. Those left were either concentrating on staying on their toes, or they had fallen asleep and choked in their nooses.

  “Someone I met,” he finally answered. “Someone your people probably already killed.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Never said it was a girl.”

  He felt her fingers wrap around his arm. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

  Cobe couldn’t see a thing in the dark. His foot thumped into what he imagined was Trot’s gut. The man made a snorting grunt but didn’t awaken.
Jenny pulled Cobe along the hard-packed ground and out into the night. The moon shone down on the streets of Rudd painting everything a cold and oppressive grey. He breathed in fresh air, thankful that the stink of excrement, urine, and fear was behind him, even if just for a short while.

  “I’m not like the others,” Jenny said, leading him along the center of Rudd’s main street towards the west. “I haven’t eaten human flesh, and I don’t plan to.”

  “You look like them. You’re holding us here when we want to leave. I can’t see a difference.

  He felt her grip on his bicep loosen. The fingers trailed down his arm and she held his hand. “You saw me in the dream. You heard my warning.”

  They weren’t questions but Cobe nodded his head. “I remember the dream. How’d you get in my head like that?”

  “I don’t know how I do it. I can get inside anyone’s head when I close my eyes and go to sleep. It’s getting stronger… I think I can do it when people are still awake.”

  Cobe wondered if she was doing that right now. The feel of her hand in his was cold, but it wasn’t repulsive. He looked at her long hair and pictured running his fingers through it. A pang of guilt flooded through him as he thought f Kay again.

  “What was her name?”

  “Huh?”

  “The girl you were thinking about, what was her name?”

  “Kay.” He almost added she was the lawman’s daughter, that she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever met.

  Jenny repeated the name. “Kay. I always liked the sound of that. It’s an old name.”

  “She wasn’t old.” Her fingers tightened around his. “Why are you holding my hand?”

  Jenny sighed. “I’m a girl, you’re a boy. I thought it was pretty obvious.”

  There had been a strong attraction to her in the dreams, Cobe couldn’t deny it. But awake, walking side by side in the moonlight, the reality of what she was and those she traveled with was impossible to ignore. The millennia-old gash running from the bottom of her ear down the greater part of her throat was hard to miss. It was deep and lethal-looking. An injury like that would’ve killed a human, Cobe thought. She isn’t human. She isn’t like me. She’s one of them. His gaze wandered into her hair again. He couldn’t help himself. Cobe stopped walking and Jenny faced him. He touched her hair, ran his fingers through its length. It felt coarse, like the main on Lawson’s ugly one-eyed horse. His fingers caught in knotted tangles. Just hair, he realized. The dream-state vision he held her in ended.