The ones who were dead for a while were being awoken by the passionate preacher.
“When hell is full, my brothers and sisters, the dead will walk the earth.”
The screams of the faithful became mixed with the screams of those whose legs and ankles were being bitten and chewed apart by the freshly awakened dead.
“REPENT, SINNERS, REPENT, OUR END IS NIGH!”
The screams of praise were no longer being mixed with pain. They were being drowned out by it. They became screams of sheer terror.
People began to fall to the ground as their legs became useless. They only served as a fresh meal to the undead. The flesh of the worshippers was being torn off right before each others’ eyes. Mothers watched their children being dragged off slowly while having their feet and legs bitten off, piece by piece. The elderly put up the least fight but gave the most sickening cries for help. They were quickly overwhelmed. Their enemy was not yet standing. All around their feet, the dead crawled around, following their hungry and gnashing jaws to their next meal.
Amidst the chaos, a few noticed what was really going on. They stood up on the pews as the floor was quickly becoming a sea of corpses; the fresh kills, those who were living and flailing around for help, and the undead who were consuming them were almost impossible to tell apart.
Some people didn’t stop praying. They didn’t stop chanting. It was an orgy of cries for help, one that would go unanswered.
Many people tried to escape, but tripped over bodies and were quickly bitten and crippled. Having your legs and ankles ripped apart is a sure way to stop someone dead in their tracks.
One of the undead made his way towards the preacher himself. The preacher, still being a loud source of noise, was sure to attract some unwanted attention. The corpse, still dressed in solid grey suit, got up and began to limp towards the preacher. The holy man had his hands up in the air, praying for guidance and screaming for salvation.
He lowered his arms and his head just in time to see the corpse walking towards him. The man backed away in terror.
“C-Carl? What happened to you? Are you sick? We can fix you, just sit down.” The preacher was nervous, His old friend, Carl, was missing his left cheek. His blood flecked teeth and jaw muscles were exposed. They began to open. The preacher backed away some more.
Crunch
The preacher howled in pain and fell to the ground. A young, blonde corpse had made a quick snack of his ankle tendons. The preacher, nearly blinded by the pain, began to punch at the body, who in turn continued to snack on the fresh wound. The preacher felt her jaws and tongue inside of his body. He felt her take away pieces of him in her mouth.
Carl fell onto him and finished what the blonde had started. Carl tore some veins out of his neck and the preacher’s blood ran all over the carpet, the altar, and more importantly, into Carl’s awaiting mouth.
Margie watched the terrible sight and prayed to both her fathers; the one in heaven, as well as the one being eaten several feet in front of her. Her father, the preacher, had instilled much faith in her, but no one could ever handle this sight. She felt tears rolling down her cheek, but became numb to the scene.
The congregation was in total chaos at this point. Many were attempting to flee through the small double doors. The smarter and more observant had already left. The blindly faithful had stayed behind, and for many, it was too late. They all pushed and ran and screamed at one another as they made haste to the parish’s only double doors out front.
They could not get past each other and would not let the other out.
The herd of people fighting to leave looked like a novelty sized catering sandwich to the undead. They limped and crawled their way over to the loud herd. The one’s in the back of the line were first to go. They were pulled off and quickly dispatched. A few of the dead wandered into the line. The terrified people didn’t even notice the dead right next to them. The corpses just leaned in and chewed through people’s throats. Blood spraying into the eyes of those still in line only added more to their fear.
Their screaming grew louder and only served to awaken the freshly dead corpses who were now making their way towards the meat.
Margie remained quiet. She was able to put two and two together. The more noise they made, the safer she was. They were beyond help. She needed to escape.
Margie, the pale, blonde young adult, stood atop the pews, knowing what might happen if she touched the floor. She began to think and to pray.
“Now isn’t a time to lose faith. I can get out of here”, she thought to herself.
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
She began to pray to herself. It always helped her clear her mind in the past and now was no exception.
She began to think of another way out.
“…Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…”
She remembered her father’s office behind the altar. There is a window she could squeeze through in there!
“…On earth as it is heaven…”
She gently hopped from pew to pew making as little noise as possible. She rationalized the situation by looking at the people trying to get out as a big, living hourglass. There was still plenty of noisy sand left for cover.
She ran out of pews to hop across and gently put her feet on the ground.
“…Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us…”
She looked to see if she was being followed or if she had aroused the attention of anything at all. Right now, even the desperate living were her enemy. If just one of those scared people saw where she was headed, they would bring the dead over to her and block her exit.
She crept behind the altar and saw the hidden hallway that led to her father’s office. The cries of the people were getting lower and lower. She could now hear individual pleas for help.
She was running out of sand.
“…and lead us not into temptation…”
She looked through her father’s office. Margie knew that things were only going to get worse and, at this point, anything would help her.
She opened the drawers in his desk.
“Come on dad, you cheaped out at Christmas. Give something nice. Show me you love me”, she said as if someone else was in the room.
In the bottom drawer was her father’s revolver. It was a small thing, but it would do. It was loaded. The weight felt good in Margie’s hand. It gave her some sense of comfort.
She thought about the gun for a second. Why would a preacher carry a gun with him? Margie didn’t care anymore. As far as she was concerned, it was a blessing.
She looked through the window she had come in here for and checked outside. There were a bunch of cars left in the parking lot.
“I should have tried to grab someone’s keys back there. It’s too late now.” She whispered to herself and then sucked her teeth. She breathed in and held her breath. She opened the window quickly and ran out to the parking lot.
She forgot to finish her prayer.
“…And Lord, deliver us from evil…”
Tires suddenly screeched.
“Margie! Margie! Get in, quick!”
Mr. Fontaine pulled up in his red truck. There was room for one more.
Margie got in and they sped off. They were safe for now. She looked back at the church she practically grew up in and thought for a moment of those that were left behind. She remembered the times she had in there and how she saw pretty much all that she knew disappear in the worse way possible.
She had quick flashbacks of watching her friends and neighbors get pulled away. The noise those, those things made when they bit into you.
She thanked God. It could have been her. She looked at her new companions and became drowsy.
“…Amen.
My Network
Matt spent the next few weeks online. He wasn’t the only one that saw the graphic news report. The media tried to block it out. The report
er and his camera man were ghosts on television, but the advent of the internet made sure that no one forgot about it and was constantly reminded of it. The video was streamed all over and became a cult favorite.
What were these creatures?
Why are they spreading so fast?
Who was patient zero?
These were the biggest questions on the internet forums that Matt frequented.
Day by day, Matt would talk to his friends online. He lived his life as a loner mostly. He didn’t have too many people close to him in the outside world. He worked out of the home as an IT support person and his weekends consisted of pizza and the occasional online game, along with sci-fi re-runs.
His online friends were his family, and to most of them, he was the same. As they tracked the “attacks”, which the news called “civil disturbances”, some of them began to disappear. They would always begin the same.
“Hey guys, the power has been going on and off here.”
“I’m seeing a lot of sirens.”
“My neighbors have been acting funny/gone missing.”
“There are a lot of weird people walking around.”
After that, Matt would lose another part of his family and his circle would shrink.
Within the course of a few weeks, Matt was down to a few friends, including his closest one. He actually knew him by name, Mark. He and Mark had been close for years and they both worried about each other. Matt knew that Mark lived west from his location and that was about it.
“Matt, there are a lot of weird people walking around my block. I haven’t seen my neighbors in a while”, the flashing instant message window flashed with urgency.
Matt felt his heart sink; he knew the signs at this point. He knew that he would probably lose his best friend soon.
“Mark, here is my address, there are a few brown outs here and there, but there haven’t been any attacks here really. If you’d like, you can stay with me until this blows over.”
Message sent.
Message not received.
User offline.
That was the last time Matt heard from his best friend.
“I-I’m all alone now, aren’t I?”, Matt said to himself. He had no one else to talk to. He texted Mark, but never got an answer and he would never receive one.
It wasn’t until a few days later when Matt’s internet access was cut off that he felt the stress of the situation. He had lost his pacifier.
Matt spent too long sitting at his computer, staring at the desktop. He clicked on the icon that took him to the internet, but the same thing over and over again.
“Page cannot be found. Cannot find server.”
The computer seemed to mock him at this point. His mind quickly filled with fear. He was entering the mire that his friends had disappeared into.
“I’m next, I’m the last one”, he thought to himself.
Matt held a glimmer of hope. He prayed his internet would come back, he prayed that he would hear from his last and best friend, he prayed that he would be okay.
He fell asleep in his chair. The loud and scary tone of the emergency alert system was blaring on TV. A muffled voice, difficult to understand, but filled with urgency warned whomever would listen.
Matt had a hard time understanding the message, “Do not…call authorities…contagious through bites, fluids, mucous membranes…head to Fort Edward...quarantine…travel lightly…avoid…”
The lights turned off, the only contact Matt had in what seemed like an eternity was gone. Matt looked outside the window to see the sun going down. The last rays of sunlight showed him all the glass on the floor, doors wide-open, boarded windows, and a body on the floor. Near his apartment, he saw bloodstains painting the street.
Matt finally began to panic; he felt his heart about to burst out of his chest.
He heard a man screaming in apartment above him. There are items being thrown around. Something breaks. The man is running. There is a thud. He trips. He screams, he screams at his pursuer. It is impossible to make it out. His screams get higher and are now filled with both fear and agony. He is crying. There is another thud, but softer. Whatever was chasing him must have fallen down on him. His screams fill Matt’s ears. The change in pitch let him know that he is in mortal danger. The screams die down as they turn into sobs.
All is quiet again.
Matt heard running in the hallway.
“HURRY UP! COME ON!” Matt tries not to make himself known; he walks to his door and makes sure the door is completely locked.
He spends a few hours forcing himself to eat whatever food will go rotten soonest. There is no more power in his apartment now.
His heartbeat has been elevated the entire time. He fills up his bathtub with water and becomes lost in the noise of the water filling up and zones out.
“What happened to us? Is Patient Zero really real? What do I do?” Matt’s thoughts were quickly interrupted by scratching at his door.
His heart sank in his chest. He heard heavy steps drag and saw the shadows under the door.
The moan echoed through his mind and he could even feel the scratches hitting his door in the back of his head. Whatever it was must have heard the water filling the tub. “It is a little loud”, he thought. He walked over to the door and Matt heard the scratching get more and more intense and faster.
He looked through the peep hole and saw his neighbor, Stephanie, looking into the door, almost through it. Matt had a feeling something was very wrong. He decided not to say anything to her. She stood there, scratching at the door like a lost puppy.
A door down the hall opened up and Stephanie looked over. Matt saw that her cheek was dangling down and blood was slowly trickling down onto her blouse.
The unlucky soul who opened his door gasped at the sight and ran back into his apartment. Stephanie, sensing a closer meal, began her pursuit and left Matt’s door.
Matt heard Stephanie scratching at the man’s door, only he was trying to scare her off.
“Get away from my house! Get away you, you, you fucking monster!”
She kept at her scratching, unfazed by the comment.
A few hours went by.
Matt wiped down some empty containers he found in his garbage can and filled them with the water from the tub.
He was able to tune out Stephanie’s scratching at this point since it was a little more distant and it wasn’t at his door. He did hear a lot of movement on the floor above him. He heard someone dragging heavy objects near where the door should be.
“Smart if they’re ready for a long term stay.” Matt thought. Much like most people addicted to the digital world, he learned to de-humanize the situation in order to ease off some of the stress.
He tried to think of the situation as nothing more than a video game simulation, one he was determined to pass. He thought of people as other players and thought that the longer he can go without power, the better his score and the stronger he will become out of all this mess.
He smiled at himself for coming up with such a great idea.
“This is nothing.”, he thought. He went around looking for items that would be of any use for the time being.
“That’s it, that’s it, that’s FUCKING it!” Matt, unfazed by the random outbursts crept nearer to his door. It sounds like his neighbor could no longer take the psychological stress of the scratching. He was furious.
He wasn’t thinking.
Matt heard the door open. He also remembered that the doors in the apartment opened inside. While his neighbor had his hand on the knob, Stephanie immediately threw her weight onto him and finally won her prize.
It was ironic, pure, primal instinct out did a being with logic and the ability to plan. Her simple scratching got him to open the door, caught him by surprise, and eventually lost his life and joined the ranks.
Matt listened to his loud screams, only seconds ago, full of rage, now, full of pain and fear. Matt heard some crunching.
He closed h
is eyes and thought to himself.
“One more player down. It could have been me.”
Suddenly, the world became a little bit more real and he began to wonder how much longer his door could out.
How much longer could he hold out?
Do You Believe Everything You See on TV?
It hadn’t been more than a few days since news of further outbreaks hit the front pages and clouded news programs all over. The emergency service broadcasts warned of power outages and gave instructions on where to go if outages affected your area or if you were bitten/infected.
When They Come Page 2
