Dust of the Devil's Land

by Bryan Killian

  “I knew I smelled hot dogs when we first came in,” Brett says, smiling ear to ear.

  “I couldn’t tell. My eye was still swollen shut.”

  “Since when do you smell through your eye?”

  “Ha ha, shit head.”

  “Well now that Edward’s gone let’s take you boys over to the shower. I don’t think we have any clothes in your size but I do know we have plenty of robes thanks to the hotels up on Hilltop. I’ll get your clothes washed for you in the morning but you’ll have to wait for them to dry on the lines on the roof. We need to conserve energy,” Yonkey states, before taking the boys to the northeast corner of the top floor.

  Behind a thick hanging sheet of black plastic stands three small shower-stalls perched atop short wooden platforms. “The water is lukewarm at best, so make it quick,” Yonkey explains. “There’s soap, body wash and shampoo. Towels are hanging out here and I’ll have your robes there as well. Remember, make it quick.” He exits the shower area but not before lighting another candle.

  “Romantic.”

  “Shut up, Brett.”

  CHAPTER 24.

  Storm

  As night falls on Redding an ominous bank of dark clouds rolls in from the northwest. Soon the wind picks up and rain begins falling. It’s been a few days since the last storm, and nobody knew this storm was coming. The local weather girl, large breasts, skinny waist and bubbly personality, had long ago met the wrong end of a discharging .45. Fair to say her second term on Earth was short, but she did manage to kill and eat her segment producer’s face before meeting her demise. The rain remains steady and at times is pushed sideways by gusts of cold wind.

  The storm doesn’t slow them down. They arrive outside the Atrium, accessing the alley with ease. They know where the living have been entering and exiting the building so they wait patiently, all sixteen of them. The instinct to attack the door is there but they are steadfast, obedient, cunning, and possess a most dangerous characteristic. They can think. Some stand under the overhang just outside the large steel doors while others remain in the background near the vehicles. The rain continues falling but does little to dissuade them. Hunger, and the instinct to kill are strong. Rat tat tat. The rain falls, they wait. Rat tat tat….

  CHAPTER 25.

  Awake

  Thump. Thump. THUMP.

  The pounding in Jack’s head wakes him. The headache is unbearable and when he opens his eyes darkness attacks his senses. He raises his hand instinctively, feeling around, but the pain in his shoulder sends all new sensations to his brain. He remains slumped over on the floor, rolls onto his back, and stares into the darkness. Am I dead? No, my fucking head hurts too bad! After a moment Jack begins another self-evaluation. His left arm and hand still throb and the makeshift bandaging has soaked through. His shoulders and back ache from being asleep in an awkward position against an uncomfortable couch. Then there is the fact he pissed himself. This along with the slight bowel movement he had while still bound to the post in the crawl space makes his jeans uncomfortable and not pleasant at all. How long have I been out? He finally notices the rat tat tat of rain falling outside. The sound is soothing.

  The darkness at first is unsettling, but as seconds turn into minutes and the rain continues falling, Jack finds comfort. The darkness becomes his friend, providing a backdrop of sorts for his memories. He’s in his own private theater, watching films of his son playing in the front yard, playing with his favorite Hot Wheels, Gamera and Godzilla toys. His beautiful wife is sitting with him in the darkness. He can feel her.

  He’s so cute. He has your imagination, you know.

  “I remember we used to dig small holes in the front yard and hide different toys. Then we would become rescuers. Do you know how many times Gamera and Godzilla saved the day out there? They were heroes.”

  You’re his hero. He wants to be just like you.

  Jack chest grows heavy. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Julia. I don’t know why I’m fighting. I just want to sleep. I just wa…” Jack’s eyes close as he drifts off. Julia’s ghost fades away. The house sits quiet. In the crawl space, the family that was once known as the Effinger’s, Bruce, Martha, Darla, Darlene and Dante, finally rest peacefully.

  CHAPTER 26.

  Unwelcome Guests

  Adam McCaw stares down at the log sheet before him. He nervously bites down on the side of the red pencil he is using. Most of the writing implements in his cup all bare deep bite marks, a habit that’s followed him from his former life as a city supervisor. He looks over the vehicle logs, shaking his head.

  “Anderson, get in here.” Adam waits for a few seconds then bellows again for his right hand man. Nothing. “Where the fuck is that man? I swear he’ll be the death of me before those things out there ever get a chance.” Adam storms out of his office, making a beeline for the main staircase, stopping just as Anderson ascends the last step.

  “You called, sir?” Anderson holds several key sets in his right hand.

  “I was just going over today’s logs and I didn’t see where the keys from this afternoons run were signed in, but I see you have them.” Adam stands with his clipboard at the ready.

  “Got tied up with the new arrivals. I asked Edward about fuel levels, he stated we should wait until morning to get them due to the storm and well…it’s really dark out there.”

  “I don’t give a shit how dark it is. We keep protocol for a reason. It keeps us alive and safe. What’s to say the vehicle they used this afternoon didn’t suffer a ruptured gas tank or broken fuel line. Hell, maybe the warning light is on. We check and double check before we go out and after we come back to base. Get Sanford, Del Rio or that Stanley guy and go do a post check on that truck.”

  “Yonkey. His last name is Yonkey. He’s with the new kids right now. I’ll grab Del Rio. He likes it outside.” Anderson stands still, staring at the corner of Adam’s left eyebrow; eye contact without actual eye contact. This always makes Adam uneasy and shortens their conversations.

  “Fine. Just get it done. Why do you have the other sets of keys?” Adam asks after noticing Anderson is carrying more than one set of keys. He knows only one vehicle went out today.

  “These two have remote entry buttons and the batteries are shot. I was planning on replacing them. In a bind you can use a dummy vehicle and set off the panic button. Draws the zombies for a few minutes until they figure out there’s no one to eat inside. Sometimes all you need is a minute or two.” Anderson doesn’t hesitate with the answer since it’s partially true.

  “Very well. Make sure Edward gets them logged in tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ***

  Rain continues falling as Anderson walks down the final steps to the outer steel doors leading into the alley. Del Rio follows closely behind.

  “Why are we doing this now?” Del Rio asks.

  “Bosses orders. I need a lookout when we go out there. One truck and we’re done. Just need the fuel level.” Anderson grabs the door handle but stops short of opening it.

  “It’s dark out there and I need you to watch the south end of the alley while I check the truck. Watch the ends by the barbwire. That’s the one place that they’ll get through if they try hard enough.”

  “Ok. So you go right I go left?”

  “We stop under the stoop, sweep the alley with the lights. If clear we move.”

  “Got it.” Del Rio takes a deep breath, heaving his enormous gut out further.

  Anderson turns back towards the doors with his flashlight at the ready. His Beretta 9mm is holstered, confident no zombies are in the alley. He pushes the handle down. The steel pins located at the top and bottom of the door retract with a sharp thump. Anderson cringes and looks back to Del Rio who shrugs his shoulders. Anderson pushes the door open and peers out into the darkness. Nothing immediate catches his attention. He steps out with Del Rio following closely behind.

  “Don’t let the door close. Push that block next to it
,” Anderson states without turning around.

  Del Rio catches the door and looks down, but there isn’t enough light to see the block Anderson described. He switches on his flashlight. Anderson stands staring out into the darkness. The sudden rush of light from behind him reflected brightly off several sets of eyes staring back at him.

  “Oh fuck, get back inside,” Anderson steps back quickly, never taking his eyes off the strange silhouettes moving in the darkness, tripping over Del Rio. He falls hard on his back.

  “What the fuck’s your problem…” Del Rio looks down at Anderson as he turns over, scrambling to his feet. Del Rio is hit from behind, driven to the ground. Teeth sink into the back of his neck, crushing bone. He struggles briefly then succumbs without one scream. Anderson makes it to his feet, turns to grab the door just as he is bull-rushed to the floor. He is covered immediately as teeth and nails dig at his skin, tearing flesh from his bones. He tries to scream for help but is silenced immediately. They are inside.

  Part 3

  Real Rifles

  CHAPTER 27.

  “Did you hear that?” Giant asks, as he stands shirtless. His massive back is adorned with tribal tattoos.

  “Put on a shirt. I don’t need to see that.” Sly whispers, listening for what Giant had heard.

  “That blind moved, like it always does when somebody opens the big doors. You know, because the air changes in the building.”

  “Yeah, yeah I know what you’re talking about. Why did somebody open the doors?” Sly asks standing near the door of the office.

  “Something is wrong,” Giant’s low monotone voice rumbles, sending a chill up Sly’s spine.

  Just as Sly is about to answer, the screaming starts. “Shit, we have trouble!”

  Giant reaches down, picking up the t-shirt Sly wished he’d already had on. Both quickly don their gear, including holstered weapons, full magazines, elbow and kneepads and helmets. Outside the door, the screaming continues.

  “Hurry, Giant.”

  “Done. Anderson better be waiting for us.” Giant’s voice remains low and steady, never once threatening to rise.

  “Is that barking?” Sly moves close to the door.

  “Since when do zombies bark?” Giant steps to the door pushing Sly slightly to the side, while pulling it open.

  A resident sprints by followed closely by two medium sized dogs. Giant walks out into the hall and gives chase. McCaw’s voice, yelling orders from another floor, fills the air. Sly steps out scanning her surroundings. Mayhem from the first floor echoes to the floors above in the form of screams mixed with barking.

  “Fucking dogs,” Sly states, shocked it’s not zombies attacking.

  Caroline T, something, nobody could pronounce her last name let alone spell it, turns a corner and sprints for the stairs when the first of the two mutts chasing her catch her left leg. She tumbles to the floor and is instantly piled onto by the two dogs. With teeth snapping, vicious snarling and growling, the two killers don’t see Giant standing behind them. Boom, boom! Two quick rounds from his .45 and the dog are no more. More gunshots sound throughout the Atrium.

  Oh this is bad, Sly thinks as she jogs slowly in the direction Giant ran off.

  “Are you bit?” Giant asks pointing the .45 directly at Caroline.

  She sits up, her face smeared with blood. Bite wounds stand out on her pale arms and her right shoulder.

  “They’re not zombies. They’re dogs. I’m not infected. Look at me, I’m alright,” Caroline pleads. She locks eyes with Giant, and for a brief solitary moment she thinks all will be ok. Then pain strikes her like a sledgehammer. Her body convulses, flipping her onto her back and her limbs become rigid. Screams continue throughout the Atrium drawing Giant’s attention away from the dying woman. He scans the staircase looking for approaching souls, living or damned.

  “Giant. What the fuck is going on?” Sly rounds the corner, stopping immediately. She watches Caroline arch her back like a cat. The girl’s head remains flat on the floor with her face turned towards Sly. Her body is arched high and her hands begin to twist.

  “Please…” The girl pleads with a strained voice.

  “Her eyes are turning,” Giant states with little excitement. He steps forward, removing a bowie knife from the sheath strapped to his left leg and drives it straight down towards Caroline’s temple. Without warning, Caroline straightens, and the knife’s edge catches the top of her forehead instead of the temple. The knife slices easily through the skin but does little damage.

  The misdirection of the knife, combined with the girl’s surprise maneuver, catches Giant off-guard, causing him to fall over to one side. Caroline’s back flattens on the floor as a small trickle of blood drips from the open gash on her forehead. Giant rolls away from her quickly regaining his feet. “She was bitten by a dog, not a zombie. Why’s she changing?” Giant asks, readying his .45.

  “Don’t know. Finish her. We need to go.” Sly turns towards the staircase, her ears fill with the sounds of running people coming towards her. She steps quickly to the top step looking down.

  CHAPTER 28.

  Infection

  Did I shit myself…again? Jack sits up at the smell of his own excrement. His headache remains though it has lessened a bit. He blinks, not believing his eyes are actually opening, so he holds them open in blackness as long as he can. He is annoyed he doesn’t have a watch or clock to look at. His chest tenses slightly as he recalls always hating the clock that sat on his side of the bed, its big green digits always mocking him when he couldn’t sleep, but now he misses that clock. He looks in both directions, attempting to scan the room, but it is no use. He rolls over onto his side, then onto his chest. He remains flat on the floor for a minute or two, gathering his thoughts, while enjoying the coolness against his skin. His body is radiating heat, a symptom of fighting off infections, especially in the open wounds on his left arm and hand. Finally, Jack finds the strength to stand. He feels every bruise, every cut…every muscle in his body. He braces himself against the wall and inadvertently bumps a picture. It crashes to the floor. The sound of breaking glass is all too recognizable.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Bam bam bam. The sound comes from Jack’s left. He spins around, almost falling. His left hand remains pressed against the wall, sending waves of pain up his arm. His memory begins to serve him properly as he recalls the layout of the house. He is looking towards the front door. Bam, another knock sounds. He wants to call out, who is it, but thinks better of it. I’ve made it this far. Might as well see what this place looks like in daylight. Another bang on the front door booms throughout the house. Door sounds solid. Jack cautiously walks away from the front area of the house. He carefully places one foot at a time, to avoid the broken glass. He turns a corner, finding stairs leading up.

  One silent step at a time, Jack goes up, noticing the banging at the front door is subsiding. I really need to find my guns in case that door gives. Jack reaches the top of the stairs and feels along the wall for a light switch. His heart stops when the light in the hallway flashes on. The hallway is normal, one you would see in any family house, not filled with monsters. The light isn’t overly bright, but is functioning, on electricity. The sudden normalcy of the situation slams Jack in the gut. He slaps the switch down, turning off the light, and sinks to the floor, closing his eyes. He can still see the outline of the hallway in negative afterimage. He concentrates on the image, counting four doors, all of which are closed, and a window at the end of the short hallway with thick curtains drawn. He counts the doors over and over as the image fades. Soon he begins mumbling, “Julia…why did the lights work… I…Jul…Ro…lights.” He sits in the hall the remainder of the night.

  CHAPTER 29.

  Dogs

  Sly raises her shotgun, letting loose a volley of buckshot. One, two, three, four blasts cut down the wall of dead and living. Six Atrium residents, as well as two dogs, are killed in the volley. Giant stares at Caroline T, somehow missin
g the entire shooting event. He is fascinated by her rapid change from a mild- mannered girl into a foggy grey-eyed zombie. The transformation is far faster than any Giant has seen before. He watches as her chest stops rising, and a slight gurgling sound escapes her mouth. Her bowels relax, allowing a small puddle of urine to gather around her waist. Giant raises his .45, bewildered at the sight before him. Caroline’s neck arches suddenly and her foggy eyes spy Giant. The sudden booming shotgun blasts from Sly’s weapon draw Caroline’s attention from Giant. Before Giant can react she is on her feet and running.

  “Down, Sly!” Giant yells.

  Sly is standing, looking down at the slaughter she has just performed. She knows there are some infected residents in the group but she is also sure at least three were simply running for cover. And the dogs, what did the dogs have to do with this? Giant’s voice rips through her with a sense of doom she’s never heard from her partner. She does as she is told, dropping flat to the floor. The familiar sound of Giant’s .45 thunders. The left foot of the girl once known as Caroline brushes by Sly missing most of her head, and collapses down the stairs.

  “Good shooting. We need to go,” Giant tells Sly.

  Sly stands, looking up to the third level. “We need to get the boys and find Anderson. The rest of the squad will meet us at the west doors.”

  ***

  “What was that?” Brett asks, jumping up from the foot of his and Roger’s new bed, a twin mattress lying on the floor.

  Roger whirls from the mirror in which he’s been studying his sunken cheeks and dark circles. “I look old.” The words slip from Roger’s mouth as the first screams reach his ears.