Traveling Merchant (Book 2): Pestilence

by Seymour, William J.

  “Look, man. Help me get this job finished and we’ll leave you alone. She isn’t a big girl and your fat friend here looks plenty for her stomach. All we want is to get outside the wall. Close it behind us. Keep the others like her out. Do you really want her to stay within the barrier of this place? Open up and I’ll carry her out myself.”

  A slow dragged out nod of fear and hesitation turns the man back to the control panel.

  “Pull this one down and the left door opens. Pull both and the whole thing opens up. Push them back and it closes. Easy as that,” he says.

  Merchant watches as Red bites and tears into the guts of the corpse. Black bile and brown liquid sloshes between the torn flesh of the opening. She purrs as her face sloshes the gore to the left and right, digging deeper with her teeth.

  “Do it. We’ll be out once the door is open,” Merchant says turning away from the sight.

  There is no way this isn’t a mistake. Red is lost to the world. He should have killed her back in that basement. She’s a monster now. No hiding what she has a become.

  “You might have five minutes,” the soldier says. “The other side will demand to know what I’m doing. If I don’t answer quick enough or give them something they believe, they’ll pull their lock and shut the door with you between it.”

  Merchant nods. He knows the risk. There is nothing else he could do other than fighting his way out and there is no guarantee in that.

  “That’s my problem. Pull it and keep your mouth shut. If I hear even a single word from this tower, I’ll send her up here for desserts.”

  The man turns and pulls on the right lever. Metal grinds and gears groan as the monster barrier begins to slide. Dirt piles beneath the moving weight and the ache and pains of the city become audible in its torturous path.

  “Enough with that, Red,” Merchant barks. “Time for us to get out of here.”

  Bloody gore dripping from her chin and eyes gone wild with rage, Red looks up at him. A pink tongue sticks out and laps up the drips of blood and gristle stuck beneath the folds of her lips. She growls before turning back to her meal.

  “I said get the fuck up,” Merchant demands and with a handful of the back of her shirt, Merchant lifts her from the ground.

  Hands, claws, and boots kick like a wild animal. She hisses and spits, the feral scream of her eyes enough to start a fire and he lets her hang for a few moments.

  “Get this shit out of you, Red. We need to keep moving or you are going to die right here within these walls.”

  She hisses again and swings but catches nothing but air.

  “Ah! I will kill you!” she screams.

  The sound is sharp and broken with cuts and scratches.

  “You... you are... you’re going to take her with you, aren’t you,” the soldier behind him begs.

  Merchant spares the man a momentary glance before dropping Red on the ground and with the bottom of his boot pushing her with enough force to roll her to the stairs.

  “Yeah, I’m taking her with me. If that door moves even a fucking inch, I’m sending her back up here to finish what she started.”

  Red growls but shies away as he approaches. Like an animal she crawls to the steps, her eyes and snarl angry but the claws retract. He keeps his eyes on her.

  “Move it,” he orders.

  She looks at the lone soldier and then at the corpse. With another snarl she turns and crawls down the first few steps. Merchant does not turn to look back. There is no time to waste.

  Half way down the steps and a half dozen hisses later, their time runs out. Metal steps ping and rock kicks up into the air as bullets slam into the wall, stairs, and ground. Merchant ducks as the wall behind him sparks with the next impact. Red rears and growls before bolting down the stairs.

  “Get back here, you stupid bitch,” Merchant yells but she does not listen.

  Clearing the final steps, she races across the opening of the door where two men step in from the outside. Rifles barking, dirt and dust kick into the air as she drives forward. Bag over his shoulder, Merchant races to keep up. The men’s attention lock on the ball of fury clearing the distance faster than death itself.

  A yelp escapes as blood jets from Red’s shoulder and she stumbles and rolls. Merchant, rolling his bag from his back, heaves it into the air. The sack slams into the first and he tumbles with a grunt. Spinning on heels and palms, Red pounces clear the final distance in a single leap.

  The man’s screams are muffled and wet as she tears into his throat. Rolling the burden from his chest, the fallen soldier makes it to his knees as Merchant reaches and crunches his knee into chin. Bones crack and dust kicks into the air as the body flips backward with a crash. A boot into the neck silences the man forever.

  “We need to move!” Merchant yells and Red growls as blood splatters in all directions from the man beneath her.

  Grunting, he picks his bag up and makes his way over to her. Wide eyes of fear stare at him from where she hasn’t torn the man’s face off. The lower half of his jaw lays slack where she has eaten away the muscle and blood slows as it pumps from the open wounds.

  “Get up!” Merchant orders and pulls her from the kill.

  This time she swings on him and rakes her nails across his face. Deep cuts burn as blood seeps from torn flesh and he shoves her away. She tumbles across the ground and their world groans with the sound of grinding gears. Beside them the doors begin to pull shut once again. Shadows grow as the shouts of the men above become orders followed by the angry buzzing of bullets before slamming into the dirt.

  “I’ll kill you!” Red screams before launching herself at Merchant.

  With a sidestep and a crack of his elbow to her chin, her body falls limp as she topples to the ground.

  “A lot of spunk in that one,” Snake-Eyes says.

  The ghost materializes beside the torn corpse, his white suit shimmering as he shakes his head in disgust.

  “Never thought I’d see the day I preferred the work of that crazy doctor over this mess,” the ghost says before a set of bullets tear apart his corporeal presence.

  Merchant says nothing. Lifting his bag and Red’s limp form, he turns and runs for the entrance. Bullets crack into the metal barrier as the engine of their demise grinds its way shut and shoulders scratching against the sharp edges of iron and steel, Merchant slips through and the darkness of the beyond quickly welcomes him home.

  22

  Only the Wicked Survive

  Pain.

  Terror.

  Darkness and shadow.

  All of them surround her as Kelly crawls through the brush. The sounds of screams and gunfire, war and death, are long in the past. Forgotten behind the need to survive and to continue moving.

  Sharp branches and angry leaves reach and tear at her skin. Itchy burns cover her arms and the palms of her hands and the flesh on her knees are torn and raw. Breath comes in large gulps and sweat runs from her face, down her knotted hair, and she pushes on.

  When did she stop crying?

  She doesn’t know. Only silence and the suffocating emptiness of the lonely world surrounds her. Shadows follow her every movement and any number of unknown things track her every movement. But she cannot stop.

  Gripping each new piece of ground with as much strength as she can muster, she pulls herself forward. How long has she been running and how far has she gone?

  Time and distance mean nothing to her. Only the thought that she can’t let anything catch her, not her breath, not fear itself, or the only thing she has left in this world will be lost.

  Her life.

  “Why me?” she sobs.

  The pain is too much, and she tips onto her side against the welcoming roots of an Oak tree. A loving embrace that holds her tight as she curls the smallest ball she can.

  “Why did this have to happen?” she asks and looks at the sky.

  There is no answer. Darkness broken only by the shine of a distant moon looks down at her with either con
tempt or disinterest. She is not sure which.

  Pulling her knees tighter against her chest, she fights back the shiver that runs down her spine. The weather is too warm to be this cold, but her body does not care. The tiny shakes begin at the tips of her fingers, blood soaked and embedded with mud from crawling so far away.

  Is she a coward?

  The look on Nicholi’s face before they killed him. So much defiance. Determination and anger all to the last moment. Even Brother George did not give up. Those eyes of his telling her to run. She could not have mistaken as she traced his glance to the path that has led her this far.

  What was she supposed to do now?

  Alone.

  Lost.

  Helpless if she ever stumbles upon anyone or any THING. She isn’t equipped to live out here in the wilds. All it will take is a single infected and this little dream of escape and survival will be over.

  The tears begin again and the shakes, tiny but enough to pull a sob out from deep within her throat, take over her entire body. She begins to rock and the sounds of the forest which at one time would have comforted her now close in and terrify her.

  Eyes peer out from everywhere. Leaves rustle and branches snap with the unseen approach of her demise. Burying her face into her knees, she waits for the inevitable. There is nothing left for her to give. The peaceful embrace of acceptance sweeps through her body.

  More branches break.

  Getting closer.

  Hugging her legs tight, a sharp point pricks the side of her leg. Reaching down, she feels the object shoved deep into her pocket.

  Nicholi’s knife.

  Jamming her hand in and freeing the weapon, she holds it in front of her with a shaky hand. The blade wavers and isn’t very threatening. Maybe three inches and dull, but it is at least something. Gripping the handle with little more than will itself, she lets the strength in its solidity run through her.

  Maybe she has a chance. If she heads far enough south, she’ll find the river. Then all she has to do is follow it until she finds another town. People need water. Everyone does if they want to survive.

  Travel at night. Stay in the shadows. She can do this.

  More branches snap, this time closer and with more urgency. The strength and courage fades as quickly as it arrived.

  A tree limb falls, and this time is followed by the crashing of something big and heavy against the ground.

  Kelly pushes her heels into the dirt and forces herself against the hard strength of the Oak tree. Brandishing the knife like a ward, she watches as the darkness around her shimmers with the movement of the trees.

  Light filtering down from above does nothing but leave her world in shades of gray and black.

  Her heart pounds in her ears. The pain in her chest cracks at her ribs and the skin of her hands and knees burn as if on fire.

  An entire tree begins to shake. A monster has found her. Now the knife feels like nothing more than a twig. Whatever this thing is, it is huge.

  Her throat goes dry and fresh tears run down her face. She can’t keep her weapon steady. Even seated, the muscles in her legs go limp and she wants to sink into the ground.

  “God damn it, you fucking piece of shit,” a man barks.

  The forest before her explodes in activity and she recognizes him before she can even fully see him.

  Logan Barnett.

  The fat man trips and crashes down in front of her. Hundreds of pounds of jelly and tailored suit slam onto the dirt floor and dust and leaves kick into the air.

  Kelly has no idea what to do. Disbelief. Shock. Confusion. Everything invades her already ravaged body as the man she hates most in this world lays sprawled out in front of her. Face-down, he struggles to climb to his knees as roots and twigs tangle across his arms and legs.

  “Fuck this place and its fucking god-forsaken wilderness. Man was destined to live in the fucking city. We wouldn’t have built them if we weren’t supposed to. Fuck, I hate all this shit. The infected, these stupid people and their stupid prayers. And most of all I hate these fucking trees. When I get back home, I’m going to…,” he rambles on until he finally notices she is sitting right beside him.

  He is no longer the powerful figure he once was. Blood runs from welts across his forehead. Mud and debris from his hasty retreat through the forest stick to his suit which is now as brown as the shit he smells like.

  A look of confusion mars his face until his brain catches up and the edge of his lips turn sinister. Kelly can do nothing. The knife in her hand, the only shield she has is little more than a paperweight shaped like a pen. She squeezes harder but no matter what it won’t become a sword and slay the demon in front of her.

  “What do we have here?” Barnett asks.

  He rolls himself to his butt with a considerable effort full of grunts and huffs. A lung full of air puffs from his chubby lips and even from a few feet away the man has a horrible stench of shit and sweat. Kelly wants to edge herself away, but the Oak’s embrace is now the chains that bind her to her fate.

  “Get away from me, you monster,” she demands.

  His smile grows open and wide as she waves the small knife in front of her. She can see how much of a useless venture it is to him. There is even a bit of joy in his bright eyes, an almost pleasurable sparkle.

  “Monster? Did you see those things out there?” he asks, then rolls onto his knees. “Those are the real monsters. I’m little more than a city leader, a mayor if you ask me. Just like your Father George.”

  “Brother George,” she cuts him off.

  He wipes away the sweat dripping from the tips of his hair and takes another deep breath with a sigh.

  “Yes, Brother George. As I was saying, I am very much like him. I have an entire city to look after. One much bigger than that village of yours and full of people not much different than yourself. Men, women, children, all of them with dreams and hopes of surviving this plague the world has become. Don’t they have the right to survive? Do their lives mean so much less than yours? All I wanted was the answer to these demons that have ravaged our world. Is that too much to ask?”

  Anger flares in her stomach. Kelly no longer needs this pathetic little knife. She’ll kill this man with her bare hands.

  “There is no answer! We told you that. Every time you came, we told you it was through God that we cured those people. We had no medicine or machines to fix the sick. You just refused to see it and killed everyone trying to prove us wrong.”

  “You can stop lying, little girl. There is no God and he sure as hell isn’t going to sit there and protect some small, little, insignificant village while the rest of the planet suffers. Your Brother George was a liar, and it looks like he had all of you ensnared with his deceit. Too bad in the end whatever he had wasn’t going to be enough to save him.”

  With all the strength she can muster, Kelly drives her heels into the base of the tree and throws herself at the fat monster. Knife held out before her, she aims straight for his giant belly. Round and wide, she can’t possibly miss. However deep this thing can go, she will stab as many times as it takes to tear these hurtful words right out of his guts.

  Light flashes across her eyes as Barnett moves faster than she ever could see coming. The back of his hand sends her rolling and leaves her sprawling across the forest floor. Aches and pains pinch at her joints. The side of her face stings and burns where her jaw and cheekbones feel like they are broken. Fresh tears run down her face and she can’t stop the whimpering.

  “Stupid little bitch. Don’t you see. I’m not the bad guy. I want the same thing as you do,” Barnett says as he pushes himself to his feet. He turns away from her as the sounds of breaking limbs and rustling leaves cuts him off. Turning back to her, the smile on his face is gone, but it is not replaced with anger. “We want this world to return to what it used to be. Not exactly peaceful, but at least livable. Your Brother George had a secret that died with him back there. It’s too bad, because he could have saved a lot
more people than the small speck you had collected over the years. I offered him a chance. I really did. Now, if you want to live, get yourself up and let’s go. I can forgive these transgressions when we return to the city. More of my men will be waiting, and we’ll be safe. Once we are out of the forest, I should be able to get them on the radio and they’ll come and pick us up. You ready to play nice and come along quietly?”

  Kelly rolls away cupping her hands over her face and curling into a ball.

  “Go fuck yourself. I’d rather die here in this forest than ever go back with you,” her words are muffled through dirty fingers and sobs.

  “Stupid bitch. Don’t know what’s good for you, do you?”

  Tree branches snap in the distance and the sound of footsteps beating on the hard-packed earth of the forest draw closer. Barnett pulls a large knife, twice the length of the silly one Kelly dropped, and easily as wide as her hand. He spins around, his eyes hard and angry.

  “They may have found us. Get your ass up and we can get out of here.”

  Kelly can’t find the words. She refuses to go with him. She doesn’t want to die, but the thought of following him back to his home is revolting beyond belief. It would be betraying everything she knows. All those who she calls family died back in the village and she lives only to follow and survive with this Logan Barnett?

  The strength of her legs and conviction will not return. Even as the sounds grow closer and begin to come from all directions. She cannot possibly pull herself to join him.

  “Oh, fuck this shit,” Barnett barks. Rough hands with grips of iron squeeze into her arms and yank her from the ground. “Look, I have no problem leaving you here to die. Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first person I’ve left because they didn’t have the courtesy to try and save themselves. But while you are here, I may as well keep you as an insurance policy. Now, get your ass moving.”

  He shoves her, and she stumbles forward, her arm catching the first tree trunk for stability. Another shove scratches the skin on her arm sending fire racing through her body, but it gets her moving.