Hella Rises: Dawnland

by Karen Carr

  “Let’s take her to Sanford,” I said. “It’s about twenty miles from here. I want to see what’s going on down there. You can fly normal speed and we can hover when we get there. I want to blot out as many of those evil dead things as I can.”

  “You got it,” the Professor said. “We’ll be there in about half an hour.”

  The Professor took us over the thick woods, heading to the 15/501. Our ideas was to follow the road in slow enough for my virus to wipe out the marching horde. I was sure there was a marching horde, and when we arrived at the road, I found out I was right.

  “Look there,” I said. I pointed to a couple of dozen zeroes coming down the road like someone had invited them to a party. I felt a lump in my throat. “Can you fly over there?”

  “Sure,” the Professor said.

  The Professor flew over the zeroes, but we had been flying too fast for my virus to catch up with us.

  “We’ll have to hover four a few minutes,” I said. “Maybe we can draw more over here.”

  Once again, I was amazed at the helo’s maneuverability. The Professor kept it as still as if it were landed on the ground, except we were in mid-air. It didn’t seem hard and I daydreamed about the day I would be out on my own, flying it all by myself.

  I regarded the zeroes grasping and clawing for us. There were more than a few dozen now, all coming at us from different directions, even from toward Pittsboro. This is what I needed to be doing, killing as many of these suckers as possible immediately, not going from red dot to red dot.

  The faces of the creatures below still resembled humans, but the sun and the elements were doing numbers to their skin and clothes. Where they were wearing natural fabrics, the colors were faded and rotting. Where they were wearing nylon and plastics, the colors were holding their own. The lime greens and bright oranges looked strangely out of place in the crowd.

  Chapter 9

  The noises the dead made, the moaning and groaning, had changed. In the beginning, when they were more fleshy and bloodier, their sounds had been more like gargling. Now, the noise had taken on a raspy quality like a badly damaged wind instrument. The Professor hovered a few feet from their heads, close enough for me to see their eyes turning read.

  “Pull up,” I said. “They’re getting ready to explode. They’ll soak us at this height.”

  The Professor pulled the ultralight higher in the sky just as the first heads exploded from their owner’s bodies. More and more zeroes fell to the ground in a super disgusting pile of brains and bodies.

  “Good job, Hella,” the Professor said. “Now what?”

  I looked to the horizon. “We’re going to have to forget my virus for a while, it will take us too long to get there. Can you fly to Sanford the fastest way?”

  “Why do you want to go there so bad?” the Professor asked.

  I told him about the woman, about how her husband was there and that she said he was a doctor. I told him the woman said he was sick and he needed our help.

  “She said she left him in the Temple Theater,” I said. “It’s downtown, a historic building with a copper sign. It’s across from a parking lot. I have to try to rescue him, even if he isn’t a doctor.”

  “I agree,” the Professor said. “I’ll be able to tell right away. Remember, I am a psychiatrist. I do have a bit of medical training myself.”

  “I know Professor,” I said. “I forgot because you are such an awesome pilot.”

  “I am, aren’t I?” The Professor winked at me. “I spent so many years cooped up in my apartment in Haverlyn Village, I forgot what it was to be like in the sky. I might take you up on your request to be your pilot.”

  I watched the road and the trees and the fields pass below feeling like a bird. “I don’t know, Professor. I like this more than I ever thought I would. I can’t wait to learn.”

  I could see the low buildings of Sanford above the tree tops. The Professor reached behind his chair, pulled out a pair of binoculars and handed them to me.

  “I see smoke,” I said to the Professor. Big, black puffs of smoke were coming from the far south side of the town.

  “I see it too,” the Professor said. “It’s not a big fire, but it’s also not wood. That’s plastic, metal, furniture, a house or building fire.”

  The Professor flew right over the town and we found that the smoke was farther away than we originally thought, some miles south of downtown. I counted the blocks as we passed over them. Fifteen square blocks of downtown. I didn’t know exactly where the temple building was, so the professor hovered lower and circled slowly. We skimmed just above the tallest rooftops and were able to see into the streets.

  There were still hundreds of zeroes left in the town, standing thick in the streets. When we approached, they looked up and tried to grasp for us. They followed the Professor’s wide circles with their eyes, craning their heads in the process.

  “There it is,” I said, pointing to the distinctive copper lettering, Temple.

  “Right you are, good job.” The Professor turned the ultra-glide in the direction of the theater and then hovered over it.

  I examined the rooftop for any sign of life. It was flat and would be easy to land. It was also higher than each of the other buildings next to it, which meant that any wandering zeroes would not be able to fall down unto us. The roof itself, was in good shape and was empty save for a few wooden crates in one corner.

  “Land,” I said.

  “Hella, your virus is not active.” The Professor pointed to a few zeroes on top of the roof of the one of the buildings higher than the theater where several dozen zeroes had been trapped.

  “Those zeroes can’t reach us,” I said. “They’ll fall unto the roof below. We’ll be fine. I want to get this guy and get back to Pittsboro, fast.”

  The Professor landed on the roof with grace and perfection, how I wanted to match his skills.

  “Stay here,” I told the Professor. “And keep the blades moving. We might have to leave fast.”

  The Professor grabbed my shirt. “Hella. We should go back and get someone else to help you. Zeke or Huck perhaps?”

  “No, Professor.” I took his hand away from my sleeve gently. “I can do this on my own.”

  I pulled out my gun and jogged around the roof, looking for wayward souls. I found one beast hidden behind the stairwell. By his broad shoulders and strong jaw, I determined he was a man. He was stuck in the open door. I gasped when I saw he had been tacked to the door with a large iron rod. Who would have done that?

  I decided to keep the zero nailed to the door alive. He would be my virus marker. When his head was gone, I would be safe from the undead…the living was a different story. I stepped into the small rooftop hallway, which had a dark stairway. I gagged at the stench. I shined my mini-mag down the stairway.

  Attached to the stair rail, about every two feet, were more zeroes. They all had been tied to the rail by their waists in a zigzag pattern all the way down as far as I could see. Their hands were free, and so were their mouths, making them able to grasp and bite anything that walked past.

  I smiled at the brilliant protection. If I were to travel down the stairs, I would surely get bit. It would be hard to kill the first zero without getting bit by the next. Whomever set these guys up didn’t want anyone to come down the stairs. Who was he afraid of? The only other group with helicopters were Mace Duce’s men.

  Chills went down my spine as I stepped back out of the dark corridor. I would have to wait until my virus kicked in to go any farther. I walked back over to the Professor to explain what I had found.

  “We better get back,” the Professor said.

  “No Professor, just a few more minutes,” I said.

  “Hella, if what you say is true, then we are not safe,” the Professor said. “If Mace and his men come swooping down in an oversized military helicopter, they will squash us and you will be back in his clutches. If Mace doesn’t show up and we go down there, to what? A crazy woman who sa
id her husband is a doctor. We don’t know if she’s telling the truth. Even if she is, he sounds crazy too. How did he get all those zeds tied up like that?”

  “I thought about that,” I said. “I think he must be immune. Besides, we’re not going down there. I am. You have to stay with the Helo in case Mace shows up. I know you can outfly him in that little thing and we’ll need someone to warn the others.”

  “No, I am not going to let you go down there alone.” The Professor’s head started shaking and his eye started twitching.

  “Breathe, Professor,” I said, taking a deep breath to show him how. “Stay up here, and if we get separated I will walk back to Pittsboro. It’s not far. You know I’ll be safe.”

  The Professor took a deep breath. “Hipslow will have my head if I lose you.”

  “No he won’t. Hipslow’s a pussy cat.” Several soft swishing sounds signaled the arrival of my virus. “Got to go. I’ll be back in 10 minutes, tops. Stay put, Professor.”

  Before the Professor could convince me not to go, I walked away from him. The truth is, I wasn’t feeling very brave. I felt this was something I had to do, and with anything that I had to do but didn’t want to, it was best to get it over with quick.

  I walked back into the dark hallway and traipsed down the stairs, carefully avoiding dripping slime from recently blown away brains. I tried not to look at the ghouls strapped to the handrail as I walked next to them. Their bodies had slumped over blocking my way down the stairs in some cases. I cursed my Birkenstocks, and cursed myself for not wearing boots. I already felt slime between my toes.

  Reaching the landing of the third floor, I decided to open the door and search the area for the doctor. The woman had never told me her husband’s name, so I couldn’t call out to him. She hadn’t told me her name either, so I couldn’t use that as proof that I wasn’t the enemy.

  I grasped the doorknob and turned, putting my weight against the door to open it. The door opened half an inch, but budged no farther. I cussed under my breath and tried again. This time I felt something fall over and heard a dull thud. The door became lighter, and I was able to open it a few more inches.

  Sticking my head between the open door and the frame, I saw several dead zeroes piled up in front of the door. More undead booby traps, but I felt like this was the right floor. With all my might, I shoved the bodies away with the door and made my way into the hall.

  The hall was long and narrow and lit by big windows at either end. One side of the wall had several small doors and the other side were more windows. Those doors must lead to projection rooms. By now, I thought that whomever was there knew that something was up, due to the fact that all of his undead companions were dead. So, I decided to let him know I was here.

  “Hello,” I called out.

  I heard nothing, except dripping sounds, wings, and scurrying feet—too small to be human.

  I walked down the hall, pointing my gun, and tried the first door. It was locked.

  “Hello,” I called out again. “A woman sent me. She said you were a doctor. We are here to rescue you.”

  Suddenly someone cleared their throat behind me. I froze.

  “Drop your weapon,” a man said.

  I raised my hands, still holding pinky. I didn’t want to let go of her.

  I heard the cock of a gun. “Drop your gun, now, or I’ll blow your arm off.”

  “Doing it now,” I said. I knelt slowly and placed pinky on the dirty floor and then began to turn around.

  “Freeze,” the man said.

  He began to cough and then cough some more. He eventually coughed so much, that I had to turn around to see what was going on. There, a few feet away from me, knelt a middle-aged man with balding hair and a bespectacled face. He looked about as scary as the Professor.

  When he saw that I had turned around, he pointed his gun at me.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said. I shrugged.

  He sized me up. “You’re about as thin as a corn stock and willowy as a blade of grass. I recon you are not going to hurt me.”

  I put my hands on my hips, feeling under my pant leg with my foot for my other gun. It was still there. I could hurt him if I wanted to. He coughed some more and swayed on his feet.

  “You alright?” I asked, approaching him. I thought better of it and stopped. “Is there anyone else here?” I asked, like he would tell me the truth.

  “If there was, they’d be helping me up by now.” The man reached forward with his hand and I took it.

  Big mistake.

  He twisted my wrist and my arm behind my back and pressed my face into the floor. Not only was he stronger than I expected, he was heavy. My face rubbed against the dirty floor while I tried to figure out what to do. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t reach the gun in my boot. I couldn’t move.

  I tried to express myself by making a loud moaning noise.

  “Oh good Lord. You’re not turning into one of them, are you?” The man let some of the pressure off of my back, must have been his knee.

  He let me up enough so that I could speak. “Your wife sent me. The woman who wears lots of clothes. Three skirts, pants, shirts and layers of jackets. You know her?”

  “So you really do know Zelda?” He asked.

  He released me and sat back on the floor. I sat up and dusted the dirt and grime and splinters from my cheek. “You didn’t have to smash my face in.”

  He started coughing again. “You got any cigarettes?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Really?”

  “Yea, I could really use one. I ran out a couple of weeks ago. Zelda said she’d bring me back a carton, but then she disappeared. Where’d you find her?”

  “Pittsboro.” I said.

  “Huh.” He looked at me and then looked at the door I came through, down the hall to another stairwell, like he was suddenly making another connection. “Hey, how did you get up here? You shouldn’t have been able to get past my zoobie-traps.”

  I pointed upward. “I came down here from the roof.”

  “The roof?” The man scooted away from me. “You from Durham?”

  I shook my head, wondering if he was referring to Mace and his men. “I’m not from Durham. I’m from Pittsboro, Haverlyn Village actually. Which reminds me, we should get going now before the creeps from Durham show up. They’ve been here, haven’t they?”

  The man nodded. “They are here. South side of the city. They come every day. They’re making something down there.”

  Hearing Mace was that close, and remembering the smoke from the south side of the city, I panicked. “Let’s go,” I said. I grabbed his hand and pulled him up with all my might. “My ride’s on the roof.”

  “Sure. Let me get some things.” He got up and picked up a cane from the ground, one I hadn’t noticed before.

  “We don’t have time,” I said, realizing it would take him forever to get something.

  He steadied himself on his cane. “Please. You go then. It’s in that room, already packed, my getaway bag. Big, black duffel. You can’t miss it.”

  I took my gun and held it up as I dodged into the room. A bed had been setup in the corner, and lots of empty and unopened cans of raviolis, spaghetti and meatballs, bottles of soda, hearty soups, and every possible unhealthy thing lay strewn about. No way was this guy a doctor, the crazy old woman had lied to me.

  I grabbed the duffel bag, which I found stuffed under the bed and huffed my way back to the door. The thing was heavy, like it held several dozen bricks and some rocks for good measure. I resisted the urge to look in it as I dragged it across the floor, grumbling to myself about how I wasn’t going to help anyone anymore, except for the obvious ways.

  I gasped when I saw the door frame. All around the door were tools, hatchets, screw drivers, chains, it looked like a doctor’s office from the 18th century. These are the things he used to make those creatures out there. I wondered if I should take this man with us.

  Suddenly, I heard another voice in the ha
ll. It was the Professor. He was arguing with the man and calling my name.

  “Hella, we have to get out of here,” the Professor shouted.

  I dragged the bag out the door. “Professor, help me with this.”

  He came to my side and we both hauled the bag toward the stairs to the roof. The man, whose name I still didn’t know, followed us.

  “Let him go first,” I said, pushing the man in front of us. I was still creeped out by what I saw in the man’s room, I didn’t want him behind me.

  “What on earth happened to my creatures?” the man said.

  “Who cares,” I said. I took out my other gun. “Go.”

  “No need to use force,” the man said, obviously offended, and hobbled along with his cane.

  When we reached the roof, I saw what the Professor was so worried about. Another helicopter was in the sky. This one was familiar. It was one of Mace’s. The man went pale and mumbled an apology to me.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” I asked.

  “They’re heading south to the fire,” the Professor said. “They won’t see us taking off. We’re too quiet for them to hear over that beast too. Let’s go for it.”

  The Professor, the man and I ran toward the Hughes. I had to squish into the small seat between the two men because the man was too large to fit there. I was still squished against the man’s flesh and the Professor’s arm, making me worried I would affect his driving. We high-tailed it back to Pittsboro as fast as the little craft could go with the extra weight. It was the longest and most uncomfortable ride of my life.

  Chapter 10

  I fell into my routine over the next few days. At first Hipslow was furious with me for performing my rescue mission, but then he let-up when I pointed out that he said I could fly anywhere during my training. We agreed that it would be safer for me to stick close to town until I was a confident pilot, so that’s what I had been doing for the last few days. I practiced how to take off, hover, and land over and over again.

  The man I rescued was named Hank or Frank, he changed it randomly back and forth. He was supposedly a dentist and not a doctor, but I sure wasn’t going to let him work on my teeth. Once I reunited him with his wife, I didn’t see either of them again.