World Memorial

by Robert R. Best

  The stranger shook its head and unwrapped the scarf. It pulled back the hood.

  It was Dalton.

  "Shit Maylee," he said, chuckling. "You were going to fight a gun with a bat?"

  "What the fuck?" said Maylee. She lowered the bat and stepped over to Dalton. She hauled back and punched him across the cheek.

  He fell back, clutching his cheek and looking shocked. "What the hell?"

  "No, I said what the fuck!" said Maylee. She stepped up and shoved him back further. He stumbled back in the snow.

  "Hey hey hey!" he yelled. "I saved your ass!"

  Maylee shook her head at him and stepped back, knocking her bat against the ground. It sent up little puffs of snow. "You've ruined me, Dalton. You think Mom will trust me again? She'll have a fit. And that's just what we need. A big old argument with that fucking vulture Elton watching, waiting to take over."

  "Hey now," said Dalton, wiggling his shoulder up and down to indicate the rifle over it. "I can handle myself okay."

  "You're too young, Dalton."

  "I'm almost the same age as Walsh..." Dalton trailed off, his gaze falling on Walsh's body.

  Maylee slammed her bat into a tree. The tree shook with impact, snow falling from the dead branches overhead. The nails thudded into the wood and held the bat there. Maylee let go, pointing at Walsh. "He was too young! I was too young!"

  "But you—"

  "I do it because I have to. Don't you fucking get it?" She stomped up to him, straining not to punch him again. "I had to or we would have died all those years ago. No one said you had to. No one's fucking asking you to! You're my fucking brother Dalton. And I protect you!"

  “I'm sick of being protected!" he screamed back, stepping closer. His voice echoed around the trees. "We run from place to place and you or Mom protects me! When do I get to accomplish something? Anything?"

  Maylee rolled her eyes. "You spoiled little..."

  Dalton ignored her. He pulled off his glove and wrenched back the sleeve of his coat to reveal a scarred-over bite mark, the one he had received years ago in Ashton Memorial Zoo. "When this happened..." He paused to shake the forearm at her. "When this happened, and I survived, I thought finally. Finally I'll be good for something other than just this thing that needs to be kept safe. But no. Nothing. No cure. No anything. Just another way I'm fucking special and protected."

  Maylee kept quiet, glaring at him.

  "And then..." Dalton continued, pulling his sleeve back over his arm. "And then the other kids show up. And they're like me! They have the same...whatever the hell it is. And one of them seems to know something about it. And you expect me to not help find him? You expect me to just sit back in the town and wait until the next thing that has to be done for special me? Fuck that and fuck you, Maylee!"

  They both stood, panting at each other. Snow fell lightly around them. Groans sounded, but not close enough to worry about.

  Maylee stepped over to the tree and wrenched the bat free. She stared at him for several moments, then swung the bat over her head and slid it into the strap that held it in place.

  "If we go back now it would take me the rest of the day just to get back here. So stay behind me and don't fuck anything up."

  "Fine," said Dalton, glaring back at her.

  "And I'm not covering for your stupid ass," she said, tightening the strap across her chest.

  "Whatever."

  "Whatever," said Maylee, mocking his tone. She looked and found Zach's footprints, running past the barn and deeper into the woods. "Just try to keep up."

  Nine

  "Well fuck me," said Park, rounding the last tree and stepping into a clearing. He stared across it.

  "You say that a lot," said Beulah as she stepped up behind him.

  "I suits a lot of purposes," said Park, keeping his eyes focused across the clearing.

  Across the way, past what looked like a frozen lake, was some sort of town. Makeshift walls rose tall around it, looking like they had been nailed together from whatever had been handy. Beyond the wall he could make out the tops of various structures and vehicles. Campers and sheds, all packed together so closely Park wondered how they'd done it. He realized he’d seen bits of this place in his dreams. A sheet of metal here, a battered trailer there. Suddenly the backdrop of his dreams made sense.

  "Excellent," said Beulah. "It looks like we've arrived."

  Park set out across the clearing, heading at an angle around the lake. "Yeah. Won't they be thrilled to meet you."

  "Oh, I'm afraid I can't meet them yet."

  "Lemme guess. Your sister built a magical trap door in time that makes it so you can't get the juice from trees and somehow that means some shit or other."

  "Are you mocking me, Parker?"

  "Aren't you a genius," Park snorted.

  The snow shifted next to them and a corpse crawled from it. Park wondered how long the thing had laid there, dumbly waiting until fresh meat roused it.

  The corpse, a thin man with gashes down each arm, slowly worked its way to its feet. It hissed at Park and Beulah.

  "Uh oh," said Park, sliding his rifle from his shoulder. "I guess they hibernate now."

  "They don't actually hibernate, Parker."

  "Really?" said Park, aiming for the corpse. It groaned and staggered toward him. "And I was hoping for the Nobel Prize and shit."

  "Don't waste the bullet, Parker," said Beulah, She stepped to the corpse and tapped it on the hand. It exploded backward, sending hunks of frozen meat pattering across the snow.

  "That's a neat trick, lady," said Park, slinging the rifle back over his shoulder. He turned to face the town and started for it. Beulah followed.

  They kept walking until they were about fifty feet from what Park assumed was the gate. Large sheets of metal with hinges on either end. Park heard Beulah stop behind him.

  Park turned to see her standing there, smiling back at him.

  "Coming?" he said.

  "I told you I can't," said Beulah. "I'm glad you made it here safely, but this is far as I can go."

  "You were serious about that?"

  "Yes. And you were right that it is about my sister. Very perceptive, Parker. I'm proud of you."

  "Just get to the fucking crazy."

  "This form means I can't be more than one place at once. So I had to ward all of my towns to protect the children inside. My sister cannot pass the barriers I placed around them. But, neither can I."

  "So you can't come any further?" said Park.

  "Sorry to say, but no."

  "Well, that's a shame," said Park. He slipped the rifle off his shoulder.

  "So hurry along and take care of your mission and—"

  She fell silent when Park pointed the rifle at her and fired.

  The blast hit her in the chest. She fell backward, sliding across the snow.

  Park lowered the rifle and stared at her still form. He heard people yelling from behind the walls. They'd heard the shot. He had two, maybe three minutes before they reached him. He cocked the rifle, not taking his eyes off her.

  She stirred. She sat up with a groan that sounded more exasperated than pained. She brushed snow from her torso. As she stood, Park saw his bullet fall into the snow beneath her. She seemed completely unharmed. Park felt sure that if he hadn't caught her off guard, she wouldn't have even flinched.

  "Parker!" she said, sounding like a mother scolding a child. "What on earth possessed you to—"

  "You think I'm retarded?" said Park, leveling the rifle at her chest and firing. She jerked slightly from the impact but showed no injury.

  "Parker..." she started.

  He ignored her, cocking again. "You follow me around, reminding me again and again about how my girls died. Then you tell all about how you can control how shit happens."

  He fired, hitting her in the face. Her head whipped to one side. She looked back to Park, a dark smear across her cheek. She wiped it clean. "Parker...." she repeated, anger building in her voice.<
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  "So what you're telling me is," said Park, cocking again, "either you're fucking crazy and just wanted to torture me about my kids, or you could have done something about it and chose not to." He fired into her stomach.

  “Parker, stop it!"

  "And then, oh by the way, you want me to kill someone who had nothing to do with it. She just happened to be standing nearby when your bullshit helped her and not me. I think I'll go with fuck you, lady." He cocked and fired. The bullet bounced of her forehead, tilting her head back slightly.

  She looked back at him, visibly seething. "Your gun isn't doing any good, Parker."

  "Oh yeah I know," said Parker, cocking again. "I'm just enjoying myself."

  "Stop it Parker..." said Beulah.

  Park leveled the rifle at her.

  "I said stop it!" she yelled. The force of her yell somehow pushed Park back a few steps. He knew that if she wasn't held back by whatever barrier she'd put it place, he'd be dead.

  He lowered the rifle, staring at her. She stared back, breathing slow and deep, burning hatred in her eyes.

  Then she was gone. She didn't walk away. She didn't vanish in a puff of smoke. She was just gone, with the same matter-of-factness as the snow on the ground.

  "Well look at that shit," said Park to himself.

  "Don't move asshole!" said a voice behind him. Park heard two or three rifles being cocked behind him.

  Park held his rifle out to one side, dropping it in the snow. "Hold your dicks there, boys. Just thought I saw some deer."

  "Park?" said a woman's voice. It took Park a second to recognize it.

  He slowly turned, holding his hands up for whoever had guns trained on him.

  Several people stood around in the snow, pointing rifles. Between them, leaning on a cane, was Angie Land.

  "Well hey there, Angie," said Park. "You're looking limpy."

  She smirked at him, walking toward him on the cane. She was definitely injured. "And you're looking not dead." The others lowered their guns, apparently following Angie’s lead.

  "Believe me, I tried," said Park, dropping his hands. He frowned down at her leg as she limped toward him. "What happened to you? You finally kick someone's ass too hard?"

  "Long story," she said, stopping and looking him up and down.

  Park scratched at his beard. "Speaking of which, I've got a long fucking story for you."

  Ten

  Maylee glared down at the snow. Dalton shifted behind her, then stepped around to look.

  "Looks like he met up with somebody," he said.

  And it did. Zach's footprints, still clear in the snow, came to a stop a few feet ahead. Several other sets of footprints lined the area, most converging where Zach's stopped. A large area was patted down there, looking like different sets of feet had stomped around at random.

  "Struggle?" said Dalton.

  "That's what I'm thinking," said Maylee, adjusting her coat against the cold. "And look there."

  She pointed to where a line of footsteps led off from where the struggle and been. The prints were close together, moving straight and together, as though with purpose.

  "I'm thinking they took Zach that way. Come on, " said Maylee, following the footsteps toward a pile of snow-covered brush.

  Groans came from the brush as they drew near. Branches shook and two corpses staggered out. One, a fat man with a mangled and burnt face, groaned and reached for Maylee. His face was coated in dried pus, and he hissed past rotten teeth.

  "Whoa!" said Dalton, fumbling with his gun. The other corpse, a teenage girl with large dark gouges across her torso, headed for him. Frozen black blood coated her ripped sweater.

  "I got it, Dalton!" yelled Maylee, rushing to the fat man with her bat ready. "Just keep back!"

  Dalton kept fumbling with his gun. The teen girl drew closer. Dalton cried out and stumbled back, clutching his head.

  Maylee stopped, sliding in the snow. The fat man groaned and stumbled towards her. She stared at Dalton. "What is it?"

  Dalton shook his head. "I dunno, I just..."

  The fat man was inches from Maylee. He reached for her, his fingers grabbing at her coat. Maylee shook herself from staring and stepped to one side. She slammed her bat into the fat man's gut. He doubled over, puking black goo into the snow. She whipped the bat upward, cracking the man’s skull. Black liquid oozed out and he fell.

  The teen girl drew near to Dalton. Dalton screamed and dropped his gun. Maylee spun to face him. He dropped to his knees and held his hands to his temples.

  Maylee ran for him and the girl. "Dalton! What the hell is wrong?"

  Dalton screamed, clutching his head and rocking back and forth.

  Maylee reached the girl. Grunting, she swung the bat into the back of her head. The nails in the bat thudded into the girl’s skull. One protruded from her mouth, leaking blood and slime. Maylee wrenched the bat back toward herself, pulling the girl away from Dalton, then twisted the bat free as the girl fell to her back in the snow. The girl hissed up at her as Maylee brought the bat up over her head. She slammed down into the girl's face. Black goop shot out in all directions, staining the snow.

  Dalton screamed behind her, sounding like he was in agony. Maylee turned back and stopped, blinking in shock.

  Dalton was glowing. In the shade of the trees it was unmistakable. Light shone from him, spreading out across the snow.

  "What the fuck..."

  Then suddenly, the glow was gone. Dalton fell over and was still.

  * * *

  Brother Joel lit the last candle and stepped back. He smiled, eyeing the sanctuary appreciatively. The candles gave things a spiritual glow that electric lights couldn't match. In a way, he was almost glad the power had gone out years ago. It brought him and the flock closer to God and His ways.

  The wooden pews were polished, glowing in the flickering light. The pulpit was lined with a dozen candles, so the flock could better see from the pews. In the old days, they would have used a small spotlight in the ceiling. The candles looked much better, their warm light dancing on the large wooden cross hanging just beside the pulpit. It was old and rugged, just like the hymn. The thought made Brother Joel smile.

  He heard the low groans coming from storage rooms set to the right of the pulpit. Nothing sounded out of order, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to check.

  He stepped across the sanctuary, enjoying the echo of his footsteps on the polished wood floor. The whole room sang of holiness. Truly the Spirit is in this place, he thought.

  He reached the doors and fished in his pocket for the keys. He found them and pulled them out, pausing to smooth out his suit. The fabric was worn, but unwrinkled and clean.

  He slipped the key into the lock and clicked it open, then pushed the doors inward, letting the candlelight into the storage rooms.

  A dozen large cages lined the room. Light flickered across the bars. A corpse crouched from within each cage, gnawing its rotten teeth on the metal. A few saw Brother Joel and reached for him, but the cages held them back.

  "Hello foul creatures," said Brother Joel. "You do not know it, but you will show the glory of the Lord today."

  They groaned back at him.

  Joel smiled and shut the door.

  * * *

  Maylee knelt next to Dalton and put her hand on his chest. He was breathing, just out cold.

  "Dalton!' she hissed, trying to keep her voice low so as not to attract more corpses. Or the people who had taken Zach.

  "Dammit, Dalton! Wake up!" Maylee slapped her palm down on his chest.

  Dalton gave no response. His chest moved up and down, breathing deep and slow. Maylee thought she heard a groan, a little too close to disregard.

  "Dammit!" said Maylee, slapping down one last time. "Wake up, Dalton!"

  The groan drew closer.

  Dalton coughed and opened his eyes.

  "Whoa," he said.

  "Are you okay?" asked Maylee, standing and holding out her hand.


  "I dunno," said Dalton. He took her hand and stood.

  "What the fuck was that glowing shit?"

  "I was glowing?"

  "That's what it looked like from here."

  Dalton winced and rubbed his head. "I'd say that was cool except it really effin' hurt."

  Groans erupted all around them. Maylee spun to see a handful of corpses emerging from the trees. They groaned and reached for them, their dead skin splitting in the cold air.

  "Where's the gun?" said Dalton, looking left and right.

  Another group of corpses came from another cluster of trees. They stumbled toward Maylee and Dalton. It would only be a few moments before they closed ranks with the others.

  "There's too many," said Maylee, stepping back and grabbing Dalton's shoulder. She pulled her scarf up over her face, preparing to run.

  "Where's the gun?" said Dalton, still looking.

  A third group of corpses came into view. The lead one, a fat woman with nude rotting breasts, gurgled through black blood and clutched the air as she stumbled forward.

  "There's no time for that and there's too fucking many!" yelled Maylee, shaking Dalton by the shoulder. He blinked at Maylee, then at the corpses.

  They both turned and ran, following the biggest line of footprints.

  Maylee ran along the snow-covered path, panting into her scarf. She held her bat in front of her, ready to swing at anything that came at her. Dalton ran with her, just behind her right shoulder.

  She could hear groans coming from both sides. It sounded like corpses were everywhere. She wondered what she had gotten herself into. What she'd gotten Dalton into.

  "Where are they all coming from?" yelled Dalton.

  "Dunno!" yelled Maylee through the cloth. The footprints continued in front of her. The trees formed near-walls around them. What had been a wandering set of footprints through scattered trees had become a one-lane path. They were boxed in and Maylee could feel the corpses closing in around them. They had to get out of the path, but it was too late to go back. She could hear corpses behind them. Their only hope was the path would open back out somewhere up ahead.