World Memorial

by Robert R. Best

"So we both have something to prove?"

  Mom sighed again. "I guess we do."

  "I can be back before dark."

  "You will be back before dark, whether you find him or not. And take someone else with you. Walsh, maybe. He's quick and eager. And stay away from any large groups of corpses."

  "I think I know that."

  "Well, see that you remember it."

  They both looked at each other in silence for a moment. There was a sadness in Mom's eyes, but . Maylee wasn't sure why.

  Finally Mom spoke. "Well, it won't be morning forever."

  "Right…" She and Mom stepped back into the town. Walsh moved to shut the gate but Maylee shook her head. He stayed put.

  "I'll be at the house," said Mom, then limped away, balancing on her cane. For a moment Maylee felt sad and had no idea why.

  She watched her mother go for a moment then turned to face the gate. Walsh stood there, looking at her expectantly. There was no way he could have heard what she and Mom had discussed, but he no doubt knew leaving the gate open meant something was afoot.

  Maylee looked at him for a moment. He wasn't the best shot in the Guard but was young and uninjured. He'd be able to keep up with the quick pace they'd need to get Zach and be back before dark.

  She cleared her throat and stepped toward him.

  "Hey Maylee," came Dalton's voice from her right.

  Maylee stopped and turned to see Dalton emerging from between two metal structures.

  "Dalton?" said Maylee, crossing her arms and frowning at him. "Shouldn't you be with the doctor?"

  "Maybe," said Dalton, looking around anxiously.

  "I get the feeling you're not supposed to be here."

  "You're not Mom, Maylee," said Dalton, looking back at her.

  "And where does she say you should be?"

  Dalton ignored that. "I heard you're going to get Zach."

  Maylee raised her eyebrows at him. She looked to the space he had emerged from and back at him. "Were you eavesdropping?"

  Dalton pressed on. "And I heard you need help."

  "I see your prying ears have served you well. Now get somewhere safe." She turned back to Walsh.

  "Take me," said Dalton.

  Maylee turned back. "What? Are you nuts? Are you super nuts? Are you some kind of previously unknown category of nuts?"

  "Come on, Maylee..."

  "Mom would kill me. And you. And she'd be right."

  "What?"

  "You're still a kid, Dalton."

  "I'm like a year younger than he is!" said Dalton, pointing to Walsh, who looked embarrassed.

  "You're Mom's kid. And my brother. I won't endanger you."

  "Dammit, Maylee. I'm tired of sitting in that room all day. I signed up for the blood tests because I thought I could help with something. And so far, squat."

  "I'm sorry if you're bored, Dalton, but no. It's not happening."

  Dalton opened his mouth and shut it. He glared at Maylee for a second, then stomped away.

  Maylee watched him go, sighed, then turned to Walsh. "Feel like going on a little trip?"

  Eight

  Park came to the top of a snow-covered hill and continued down the other side. The morning sky was clear. His back hurt from sleeping against a frozen tree. He slowly picked his way between brush and over roots. Beulah was behind him. He heard her dress sliding along the snow and twigs. They had been silent since last night. Park was still digesting what he had seen her do. And what he had heard her say.

  "What makes you think I have any intention of doing it?" said Park.

  "Doing what?" said Beulah. Her light footsteps were barely audible.

  "Killing Angie."

  "Because you were meant to," said Beulah. "Things do what they're meant to do."

  "And if they don't?"

  "I don't follow you, Parker."

  "If they don't do what they're meant to do?"

  "Don't talk nonsense, Parker," said Beulah. "Things don't not do what they're meant to do."

  "And if they do?"

  "I said don't talk nonsense." Suddenly there was a pressure in Park's mind, a pressure that said it would be easier if he stopped talking. He did, but hated doing it.

  They walked along in silence for a few more moments. Park ducked around a tree and Beulah followed. He heard a distant groan on the wind and looked to see a stumbling corpse far off, a small jerking dark shape against the white snow. It was too far to bother with.

  "So you say you want me to do this."

  "Yes," said Beulah. "Very much."

  "And you say I'm meant to do this."

  "Correct," said Beulah, sounding like a proud teacher. "Very good, Parker."

  "So you're saying you're in control here?"

  "Not exactly," said Beulah. "It's hard to explain."

  "Crazy often is."

  "You don't really believe I'm crazy, Parker," said Beulah, her light footsteps softly brushing the snow. "You saw what I did with the bear and the corpse."

  Park shrugged. "I've seen a lot of shit the last few years." Which was true. But he'd seen nothing like that.

  "Yes you have." Beulah fell silent for a moment. Trees creaked in the wind overhead.

  "Poor Parker," she finally said, her voice almost soothing. Like a mother cooing over a mildly injured child. "Both daughters dead. One shot. One eaten. The shot one died in his arms."

  "You can shut the fuck up any time now."

  "Died in his arms,” Beulah continued, “and yet Angela Land keeps on going. Both her kids are fine."

  "Dalton got bitten," said Park. "I saw him."

  "You saw him alive, too."

  "I had a dream I saw him alive," Park corrected.

  Beulah seemed to ignore that. She continued in the same odd, cooing voice, "Wouldn't it be poetic justice if Parker killed Angela? To show her it's not fair? To show everyone it's not fair?"

  Park said nothing for several moments. He fought to ignore the thickness in his throat. "So," he said after swallowing several times. "Dalton is alive?"

  "And well," said Beulah, dropping the cooing bit.

  "How the hell is that possible?"

  "Remember when I told you my sister is responsible for the corpses? And the animals? And the weather?"

  "You know it," said Park. "It was riveting."

  "And remember when I told you that I had a plan, a pattern to fix it?"

  "You're asking me if I remember shit you said like six hours ago, lady."

  "So you do?"

  "Shit. Yes."

  "Good, good," said Beulah. "Tell me then, are you familiar with the concept of human sacrifice?"

  Park snorted into the cold air. "Is this going anywhere?"

  "Are you familiar with it?"

  Park stepped over a large root in the snow. "Sure. Incas and shit."

  "Ah, the Incas."

  "Lemme guess," said Park, adjusting the strap of his rifle, “you remember them."

  "They were perhaps a little too enthusiastic, but yes. You see, life is power, Parker. And when a person's life is released like that, all at once in a concentrated, ritual way, that power can do things."

  "Do things?" said Park. "Well aren't we eloquent."

  "Change things," she continued, ignoring him. "Can cause things to happen that otherwise wouldn't. Are you still following?"

  "Fuck help me, but yes."

  "Good. You're doing very well, Parker."

  "Stop it, you'll make me fucking cry."

  "Oh, alright then," said Beulah. "But back to the topic. Do you know what the best kind of human sacrifice is?"

  "Virgin?"

  She chuckled. "Close. And a common mistake. The best kind is young. The younger the subject, the stronger the life energy."

  "Fuck me lady, are you talking about killing children?"

  "Well, yes, that would follow from what I'm saying.” She sounded confused.

  "And are you sure you have to follow? As in me? As in anymore?"

  "Oh yes,
I have to make sure you arrive."

  "So I can kill Angie?"

  "Indeed."

  Park kept walking. He wanted very much to be away from her. But she stayed right behind him, taking her too-light footsteps and dragging her dress along the ground.

  He snorted again. "I'm surprised you don't want me to kill some kids for you instead."

  "Oh no, the children are very special. They must survive."

  "Do you listen to yourself when you say this crap?"

  "I made the children special. Each one, I gave a gift years ago. Many when they were too young to even remember. I was a nurse at the hospital they were born in, or a substitute teacher, a babysitter, anything that could get me close enough to touch them."

  "You like touching kids, lady?"

  "I gave them a gift, Parker. I knew what my sister planned and I knew I only had a few years before it started. So I made thousands of children all over the world immune. My sister's walking corpses can't hurt them."

  Park stared at the snow moving under his feet. A realization hit him. "Wait, so Dalton..."

  "Yes," said Beulah. "Dalton is one of my chosen. He can be bitten and survive. They all can. And not only that, I intensified the power within them. The life energy."

  "So what," said Park, "they repopulate the earth or some shit?"

  "Oh no," said Beulah. "Remember the life energy, Parker?"

  "Oh yeah, I'm taking notes and shit."

  "All over the world, these children are gathering. And when they are ready, I'm going to release all that energy at once."

  Park stopped walking. He heard Beulah stop behind him.

  He turned and looked her right in the eyes. She smiled. Park hated her for it. "What exactly are you talking about?"

  Beulah chuckled. "I'm talking about saving the world, Parker."

  Park looked at her for a few seconds more.

  "Your children died, didn't they, Parker? They died for no purpose. Their death had no result. Except of course the result of breaking your heart."

  "Just shut up," said Park. He turned and kept walking, wishing he could get away from her.

  "All of these children will die for a purpose, Parker. Their deaths will set things right."

  Park was silent. He kept walking.

  Beulah followed after. "Tell me you wouldn't like to see it. See Angela Land's son die just like your children did. See the untouchable Lands go down. It would be justice."

  "I guess those Bible shitheads are yours, too," said Park.

  "Oh heavens, no. They think they are following their god. Jesus, I think, is his name. They are actually acting under my sister's influence. She has given them visions of the special children. Told them all manner of lies. She's using them as a way to get around the children's immunity."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "The children are safe from the corpses, Parker, but not from other humans. She has flocks like them all over the world, trying to get to the children before the allotted time. If she gets enough of them, the effect of the sacrifice will be weakened and I can't guarantee it would work."

  "Wouldn't want that, now would we?"

  "No we would not," said Beulah. "The children must be sacrificed all at once, all over the world. They are gathering for it. In towns and compounds, much like the one Angela Land has put together."

  "So Angie's part of your bullshit plan?"

  "Yes, she has been. She doesn't realize it of course. She was very useful in making a place for all the children in this region to go. But I can't trust her, especially if one of the chosen is her own son. She may try to interfere."

  Park laughed. "You have no fucking idea."

  "Truthfully, I expected both her and her daughter to die that first night. I thought only Dalton would make it. But she lived and has proven very effective. Her time is drawing to an end. I have someone in mind to take over. Someone who will let the sacrifice take place."

  "Please say it's not me."

  "No, Parker. That is not your role. Your role is to kill Angela."

  "To get her out of the way?"

  "Indeed."

  "Then what?"

  Park could almost hear her shrug behind him. "Then you're free to do what you like."

  "What I would like to do is finally fucking end myself."

  Beulah was silent behind him for several moments. "Well then, I guess you know what you have to do to get there."

  * * *

  Maylee and Walsh walked along, keeping their eyes on Zach's footprints. The wind whistled among the dead branches around them, not yet strong enough to be concerned about.

  "The footprints are good and fresh," she said. "We should catch up to him in no time."

  "Yes, ma'am," said Walsh next to her.

  "You don't need to call me ma'am, Walsh. I'm like two years older than you are."

  "You're in charge, though."

  "Quit reminding me," she said, shaking her head and chuckling.

  For a few minutes they walked along in silence, their boots crunching in the snow as they worked their way through the trees. Zach's footprints snaked along in front of them.

  Maylee rounded a tree and came to a small clearing. An old, rotten barn stood there, whatever farm it had belonged to long overgrown. Zach's footprints ran right up to it. Whether they stopped there, Maylee couldn't tell.

  A sound came from inside the barn. Something scraping against something else.

  "You hear that?" said Maylee.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Quit saying that."

  "Whatever you say, ma'am."

  They stepped across the clearing until they reached the barn. The wood was old and rotten, and Maylee wondered how long it had been there.

  The noise came again. A snort. Something like a whimper.

  "Zach?" said Maylee. She and Walsh stood quiet, listening. No response.

  "Come on," said Maylee. She and Walsh stepped inside the barn.

  A horse stood there, tied to an old wooden beam. The horse was emaciated, almost skeletal, but alive. It strained against the rope, trying to reach them. It snorted and grunted, its eyes full of hatred.

  "How long has it been tied here like this?" said Walsh, stepping off to one side to look deeper into the barn.

  "Few months, maybe," said Maylee, watching the skeletal horse strain against the rope. "Someone probably kept feeding it for as long as they could. Stupid." She thought of what Mom had told her about Old West and his dog. She wondered why people like him couldn't let go.

  Then she wondered why she found it so easy.

  "I'm guessing that was the guy," said Walsh, stepping back to where Maylee stood and pointing. She followed his finger and saw a dead man draped over the back of the horse. The shadows had hidden him when she first walked in. He'd been a fat man, and was now a bloated gray corpse. He wore faded overalls embroidered with “E. Lowther.”

  "Wow," said Maylee. "He was devoted to that horse. Wonder where his house was..."

  The horse snorted and stomped its hooves into the frozen ground. It strained violently against the rope. The sudden movement startled Maylee and she jerked back. Walsh chuckled at her.

  "Laugh it up, Walsh," said Maylee. She glanced around the barn. "Zach? You in here?"

  The horse tried to leap at them, jerking violently. The movement flung the body from the horse's back. It flew across the barn and slammed into Walsh. Maylee laughed as he and the body rolled out into the clearing. Walsh was laughing as they came to a stop. The body was atop him. "Give me a hand, Maylee!"

  "Finally," said Maylee, still laughing. Then she saw the body start to move on its own. The corpse hadn't been dead. It just hadn't noticed them yet.

  "Shit!" she yelled, rushing toward him. "Walsh!"

  The bloated man groaned and leaned down to Walsh's head. Walsh screamed as the corpse bit into his scalp.

  "Fuck!" yelled Maylee. "No!" she ran to one side, swinging her bat like a golf club and knocking the corpse off Walsh. The
corpse fell to its back, groaning and chewing on the hunk of skin and hair it had pulled free. The horse huffed and strained against its bonds.

  Maylee screamed, bringing her bat up and slamming down into the corpse's face. It split open, shooting thick dark glop out across the ground, and then it was still.

  "Fucker!" Maylee spat down at the thing. Then she turned to look at Walsh. Just in time to hear the shot. Walsh jerked and dropped his rifle. He'd turned it on himself, firing into his left eye.

  Maylee stared at him, the shot ringing in her ears. Her throat felt tight. "Dammit, Walsh. Dammit, I'm sorry."

  She stepped over to his body, then spun as she heard wood crack. The beam that had been holding the horse in place split in two, sending splinters across the interior of the barn.

  The horse raced out into the snow, trailing the rope and splintered wood behind it. The barn collapsed inward as beams crashed to the ground. The horse snorted and huffed, its skeletal ribs vibrating as it ran. It was too close to run from. Maylee readied her bat and braced herself.

  A shot rang out and the horse stumbled. Maylee stepped aside as the horse passed her, too startled by the shot to swing. She looked around the trees. The horse stumbled in the snow, trying to right itself.

  A second shot came from the trees. The horse staggered, blood trailing across the snow. Then it fell, kicked at the snow, and was still.

  Maylee stood there, her chest pounding. She stared down at the horse, its wounds slowly seeping into the snow. She looked in all directions as quickly as she could. Where had the shot come from?

  "Who's there?" she yelled.

  She heard footsteps. She spun in that direction. She could only see trees and snow. She held her bat in front of her as the steps grew closer. Just because someone shot an attacker did not make them a friend. Maylee could think of lots of reasons a lone survivor would save a young girl. She liked few of them.

  "I said who's fucking there?" she yelled, hoping her voice sounded more forceful than scared.

  A shape emerged, somewhat shorter than Walsh. It had a hood over its head, a scarf wrapped around its face, and a rifle over its shoulder.

  Maylee pointed the bat at the stranger. "That's close enough."

  The stranger stared laughing. The muffled voice sounded familiar.

  Maylee kept the bat pointed outward. "What the fuck is so funny?"