They weren’t moving. The zombies had stopped and were completely still. The march of the dead had halted for the moment as they turned and faced the hut.
All of them.
The worst part was, they weren’t scattered across the lawn and around the lake like they had been before. They now gathered around the hut. Sure, there weren’t nearly as many as before, but before they had been pacing aimlessly. Those that remained now stood perfectly still, their dead, grey eyes fixed on the hut.
Fixed on her.
What does that mean? Grace asked herself. Did they discover a way inside?
“What do you want?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
She ducked back down and crawled toward the kitchen. The only window in there was the one on the back door. The idea of being surrounded by the undead was unnerving, but she had to see. She had to know what she was dealing with.
She pushed open one of the big, steel kitchen doors. She looked behind her as she did, toward the windows. She couldn’t see them. Which meant that they couldn’t see her either.
She crawled through the doorway, into the kitchen, and when she was clear of the door, she let it close slowly behind her and stood up. She inched her way through the galley, toward the back door.
As she approached the back of the kitchen, she steeled herself against the wall, scooting her feet sideways as she crept toward the door. In her mind, she envisioned hundreds of them, pawing at the back of the hut, staring into the kitchen through the small hole in the door. She took a deep breath before checking the backyard.
There were none back there. A sigh of relief. Then, a horrifying realization.
They saw her.
There weren’t any behind the hut. They didn’t need to be back there. Because they knew exactly where she was. They’d probably watched as she ran up and down the halls. For how long, she didn’t know.
She walked back out of the kitchen, into the common room. She stood still as she scanned the faces of her predators. There was no reason to duck and hide now. They saw her and she saw them. And the undead simply stared back, motionless, blood dripping from every orifice as they hungrily watched her. She wanted them to keep moving, but she also wanted them not to move, to simply disappear. She willed them to turn and go about their routine.
And then it happened.
Without warning, the horde charged the hut.
The sound of slapping, clawing, beating, growling—they were trying to get inside. The noise was deafening, like listening the crowd at a baseball game. Hands and feet, arms and legs, heads and shoulders—they attacked the hut with endless ferocity.
Grace sank into a fetal position and wrapped her arms over her head. She screamed.
“STOP IT!”
But the noise continued.
She was sure the doors to the rooms would implode at any second. She was certain they’d busted through the windows.
“STOP!” she screamed again.
But there was no stopping. The beating continued. Grace cried so hard that she could no longer hear the din of the zombies pounding against the hut. She could only hear the ringing in her ears. She scratched at her head repeatedly. Strands of hair came away from her scalp as her mind finally let go. The zombies had surely broken in by now. She envisioned the undead pouring in through the windows and crashing through the doors. Soon they would spill into the hallways and into the common room. She would be dead within seconds. Grace expected to feel the presence of the undead surrounding her at any moment. She had given up, simply stopped caring. She wanted to be at peace. For once. Just for once...
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.
Her eyes burned from the tears that had flowed. Mucous collected around her nose and mouth. She opened her hands. She looked down and saw strands of dark hair stuck to her sweaty palms. There was also blood from scratching and pulling so hard at her head. She curled her fingers inward. Her nails were full of hair and flecks of scalp.
But the ringing was gone.
The noise was also gone. She realized it was silent again. She looked up at the windows. There were no hands slapping at the glass, no arms or shoulders. She slowly rose from her knees, just enough to see the ground outside.
They were there. Milling around and shuffling like they had before.
What the fuck? she thought. Not wanting to be seen by them again, she crouched down and crawled through the common room, back to her chair. She climbed up, curled in between the armrests, and tucked her feet under her. She rested her head against the back of the chair and gazed outside. Had that really just happened? What was that all about? She watched lazily as the horde pulsed back and forth outside. She suddenly felt something next to her hip. It was the journal. She picked it up and flipped open to her last entry. She glanced at the words she’d written earlier that morning.
Maybe the attack on the hut had something to do with Roy’s death? Maybe it was a way of telling her she was next?
Grace flipped the pages backward, to the beginning of the journal. There was writing inside the cover:
“This journal belongs to Caitlin Madison.”
Grace’s heart skipped a beat. You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought. She hadn’t bothered to read what had been written by the journal’s previous owner. She wasn’t sure she wanted to, even now. All she had was time though. Time and curiosity...
Chapter 20
My first journal entry, 8/23/2011
My parents are taking me camping! It’s my first time! I can’t wait to go sleeping in a tent in the woods! They’ve been promising me for years that they’d take me camping and now I finally get to go! I don’t know what to take. Daddy says I don’t need to take anything because there will be no power in the woods. NO POWER! So, since I won’t be able to update my friends on Facebook, Mom gave me a journal. She said I should write everything down that I would normally type on Facebook. Then when I get home, I’ll be able to type everything I wrote onto the computer. Seems really old-fashioned to me, but since there’s no internet and no TV in the woods, I guess this will be fine.
Grace smiled at the innocence that leapt off the page. She tried to remember what it was like to be Caitlin’s age. Internet hadn’t even been around. Even cell phones had been rare. Grace imagined what her journal would have said when she was eleven years old. With no internet and only about thirty channels to surf (twenty of which were useless and only about six that got decent reception), surely it would have been Barbie dolls and Easy-Bake Ovens.
When she was finished reminiscing, she continued on to Caitlin’s next entry:
Second entry, 8/24/2011
This is such a long car ride. I didn’t know we were going camping ON THE MOON! Actually, it’s just New Hampshire, but it’s still far. Daddy says we’re almost there. He said, ‘Another 15 minutes.’ He said that about 15 minutes ago. I’m starting to think this might not be so much fun. I’m going to try to sleep in the car a little. I’ll write more when I wake up.
OMG!!! The mountain is SOOOOO BIG! I can’t believe I’m going to climb that thing! Daddy says it will take over a day! He says we have to start really early in the morning and then stay overnight at a ‘hut.’ Mom told me that a hut is a place where hikers can go to rest and eat. Sounds neat. I wonder who we’ll meet there.
Oh, the man at the store, his name is Roy. He’s funny-looking. He has a big beard. You can only see his mouth when he talks.
A short laugh escaped Grace’s lips as she remembered seeing Roy’s “wreath-beard” for the first time. She’d had no idea at the time that this same man would eventually save her life, and then save her life again by giving his own.
She continued reading.
8/25/2011
We just had breakfast and we’re about to leave. It’s still kinda dark out, but Daddy said this is how early we have to leave if we want to make it before the sun goes back down.
I had a weird dream last night too. I dreamed of a man who was hiking dow
n the mountain. He looked sick. I remember feeling scared in my dream. Mom says it’s just because I’m nervous. I told her I’m not nervous. She told me, ‘It’s your first time hiking, Caitlin, and it’s a big mountain. You’re just nervous, that’s all.’ I don’t think she’s right, but whatever.
Grace remembered her dream the night before the climb. Charlie had dismissed it much like Caitlin’s mother had. Grace found it very peculiar that she and Caitlin would have such a similar dream. In hindsight, her dream now felt like a premonition. Grace had heard a story about a woman who had de-boarded a plane minutes before takeoff, claiming she “saw” something happen to the plane in a vision. Hours later, the plane crashed during a horrible storm. All the passengers had died.
Grace tried to shake the feeling of dread inside her. Had she predicted this? Impossible. Purely coincidence, she told herself.
She looked up from the journal. She hadn’t noticed the sun had gone down. She set the journal down on the arm of the chair and stood so she could see outside.
The horde had thinned out even more. Even better, the ones that were left had continued their endless mope along the grounds. Grace was sure she only had to hold on a few more days. She wouldn’t jog anymore. No sense in drawing any further unwanted attention to herself.
After eating a quick meal, she turned out the few lights she’d had on, curled up on her mattress, and shut her eyes. She wanted to continue reading Caitlin’s journal, but she was exhausted from not having slept the night before. She would pick up reading in the morning. For now, she needed to rest. There was no guarantee the zombies would stay reticent, and Grace wanted to have some strength just in case she found herself squaring off against any of the undead.
Chapter 21
Grace felt as if she’d no sooner closed her eyes when she opened them the next morning. Bright, blinding sunlight cascaded in through the large windows and into common room. Her eyelids were sore as she blinked rapidly, allowing only a fraction of light into her pupils. She had slept long and hard. She didn’t realize how long she’d slept until she looked at the clock on the wall.
It was 12:31 p.m.
She was groggy. She hadn’t slept like that since her college days. She rolled and stumbled off the mattress on achy legs and shuffled into the kitchen.
She reached into the fridge and removed a gallon of milk. She drank nonstop for several seconds before pulling the container away, taking a long, deep breath. She walked over to the back door and checked the backyard.
No zombies.
Grace nodded to herself, relieved to find none of the undead mulling around back there. She gulped another mouthful of milk and put the container back in the fridge.
Back in the common room, the light was less harsh now that she’d had a few minutes to wake up. Her legs were less achy, and her head was alert and awake. She took a moment to look out onto the grounds.
She felt a charge of electricity run through her. There were a dozen zombies outside, maybe two dozen at most. A wave of guarded relief swept through her. It was almost over. She was going to outlast them. She was going to survive. She could feel it.
Grace moved over to the chair where Caitlin’s journal had sat overnight. She eased her body onto the soft, velvety cushion, opened the journal, and began to read.
OMG! THAT WAS SOOOO LONG! I can’t believe how far we hiked. I am SOO out of breath. It’s beautiful though. Daddy took pictures of all of us in front of a huge waterfall. Then, when we got up a little higher, he pointed out over a cliff, toward some mountains. Then he told me, ‘Those mountains are in Vermont!’ You can see so far from up here! Mom says we’re so high up that God can hear prayers from here.
Grace put the book down. She buried her face in her hands as she cried. She couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair this life had been for Caitlin. Granted, life had dealt Grace and Charlie unfair hands as well, but she and Charlie were already in their thirties. Caitlin had died at age eleven. She would never graduate high school. She’d never have a chance to attend college or have a career. She’d never be able to have a first kiss or make love for the first time. She’d never have a child of her own. Her life had ended so abruptly.
Grace threw the journal across the room. She didn’t want to read any more of it. The words were a painful reminder of the horror Caitlin had never seen coming. She wished she had been able to consume Caitlin’s pain and suffering so that she wouldn’t have had to bear it. But Grace knew she couldn’t. Caitlin had suffered a great deal.
Charlie had suffered, too. Right up until she had brought the axe down.
Again and again.
And again.
The pain of knowing how much Caitlin and Charlie had suffered, considerable as it might have been, was nothing in comparison to the loss of the man she loved.
Chapter 22
The days began to run into each other. Grace couldn’t remember if it was Day 6 or 7 or 10 or 15 of the lockdown; she’d officially lost count. She tried to remember how many times she’d seen the sun rise and set but eventually lost interest in how long she’d been there. At one time, she had been interested in how much longer she’d have to stay, but even the prospect of leaving had become less appealing. Even though she remained alive, she had lost her life on this trip.
She’d lost it more than once.
She positioned her chair in front of the big, bay window, looked out over the grounds and at the lake. She sank into the chair so she wouldn’t have to see the horde of undead trudging endlessly. But she could still see the tops of their heads bobbing slowly. She was pretty sure the numbers had continued to drop, as the heads had become fewer and fewer.
She scribbled drawings in the back of the journal to stay busy. Now and again she tried a game of solitaire, but even that became dull after only a few hands. Her only company came in the form of Caitlin’s journal. She hadn’t wanted to continue reading, but when she read the journal, it was as if Caitlin was reading aloud to her.
Reluctantly, she picked up the journal and flipped it open to where she’d last left off.
We just ate lunch at the hut. I had chicken soup. It was OK. The hut is really cool! It’s big and it has a lot of rooms. There are a lot of people here. They all seem nice. They’re just like us. They are hiking the mountain too. Some got here today and are hiking to the top tomorrow. There are other people who just came down from the top today and are sleeping at the hut tonight and going back down tomorrow. It’s so cool! Mom asked me if I was bored because I didn’t have a computer. I’m not bored, so I told her I’m having fun. I can’t wait to see the top of the mountain. Daddy says, as high as we were today, we’re going to be even higher tomorrow! He said there are mountains even higher than this one!!!
Before dinner, Daddy, Mom, and I walked around the lake for a while. It’s so pretty. There are a lot of beautiful flowers around the lake. I wanted to pick some, but Daddy said we have to leave them be. He said we have to ‘leave no trace.’ I guess that means we can’t leave garbage and stuff behind. And we can’t break anything like tree branches or step on plants and stuff. Geez!! There are a lot of rules for being outside.
After we ate dinner, we went outside for the showers. That’s so weird!!! You have to shower outside here. There are a lot of showers though so it’s not like people have to wait in a long line. We’re getting ready to hear some scary stories soon. The lady named Terry said that they’re going to take turns tonight telling ghost stories or something. Daddy says if I get too scared we can go back to our room. I said I won’t get scared. I think it will be fun.
We just got back from story time. I am so scared. That woman told a story about dead people who come back to life. At first, I wasn’t scared, because it sounded really corny. But then she said some things about how the first settlers had died and then came back to life and killed the people who were still alive! Daddy says it’s just a story. Mom says so too. But she was really scary. Terry, I mean. She’s big. She takes care of the hut. She was nic
er before. Now she’s just trying to scare people. I don’t like her. I have to go to sleep now. I’m afraid I’m going to have bad dreams tonight. I hope I don’t.
I’m in the ladies bathroom. It’s really dark still. A bad man came into our room so my mom told me to run and hide. He came in and fought with Dad. I think he bit Dad in the arm. That’s when Mom told me to run and hide. I felt something scratch my leg when I ran past the bad man. I think he scratched me. It hurt when it happened but it doesn’t hurt now. It’s still—
A woman named Grace just came into the bathroom. I was trying to be quiet but she heard me crying. She said she wanted to help me. I’m scared. I don’t know if she really wants to help me. What if she wants to hurt me? My leg itches now. It itches where the bad man scratched me. I feel sick too. I don’t want to tell Grace I feel sick because then she might not help me.
She just left. I hope she comes back. She said she is getting her husband. I hope he’s OK and not like the bad man. My tummy really hurts now. I feel like I am going to throw up. My leg hurts a lot now too. I wish Mom was here. She said she would come get me when it was safe.
I just threw up and there was blood. I’m going to go and find Grace. I think she—
Grace let the journal fall from her hand. It fell to the floor, landing on its cover with a slap. Her eyes went to the sky outside. It was dark and the stars were out. She was crouched so far down into the chair that she couldn’t even see the tops of the zombies’ heads anymore. She only stared up and out at the night sky. All but one of the stars were twinkling. Grace knew it was a planet. She fixed her eyes on it while all the stars around it flickered in her peripheral vision—a million strobes pulsating, quivering, enhancing the unblinking planet at the center of her vision.
She stared at the planet in the middle of the stars long after she’d fallen asleep.
Chapter 23
Dead Summit (Book 1): Dead Summit Page 20
