The Demon Dead

by Arthur M Wyatt

  He fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably. Then he felt someone touch his shoulder.

  “John,” Amy said, “wake up. You’re dreaming.”

  John jerked awake in a panic. He felt like his heart was going to burst it was racing so fast. He was sweating profusely. Beads of sweat rolling off his forehead and down his face. Amy put her arm around him.

  He looked up to see Jimmy and Derek standing behind Amy looking concerned. Suzie was nudging his hand.

  “Are you ok?” Jimmy asked.

  “I’m fine Jimmy,” he said trying to sound calm, “I just had a bad dream that’s all. Go back to sleep.”

  Derek walked Jimmy back to his blanket and sat with him while he went to sleep.

  “Oh my God,” John said, “the Rector. What time is it?”

  “It’s not time yet,” Amy told him, “its only 8:45.”

  “Thank God I thought I slept through it.”

  “What was the dream about?” she asked. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not now. There was something… at the house I haven’t told you about. Maybe later,” he said.

  “Ok,” she said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  John turned and stared out the window. Dreams are supposed to have meaning, he thought. So what the hell was that all about?

  They sat there until nine without saying another word. Then John stood and slid the window back. He placed a piece of cardboard over the end of the flashlight and turned it on. Then he flashed the light at the church twice and waited. Several seconds later came a reply. Two blinks of light just as they had planned.

  John turned the flashlight off and closed the window. They lay down on their blankets beside Jimmy. The warmth of Amy’s body beside his made John forget the nightmare and he was asleep quickly. Everyone slept soundly through the night high up in their perch above the beach.

  NINE - DAY SEVEN: CONTACT

  “Wake up,” Jimmy said tugging on Amy’s shirtsleeve, “wake up.”

  Amy slowly opened her eyes to see Jimmy sitting up beside her. “Let me guess,” she said, “you’re hungry right?”

  “Nope, I have to pee.”

  Suzie, who was sitting beside him, had a look on her face as if she had to go too.

  “Oh… John,” she said shaking John’s shoulder, “John, wake up. Jimmy has to go to the bathroom.”

  John raised his head and looked at them sleepily. “What time is it?” he asked.

  “7:30 a.m.”

  “Good morning,” Derek said sitting up.

  “Oh wow. We slept for ten hours,” John said stretching.

  Amy got up and walked over to the window facing the beach and opened it. The cool fresh air drifted in filling the room with a sweet salty smell.

  “I have to pee,” Jimmy said again.

  “You’re going to have to pee in a empty water bottle for now ok,” John said.

  Derek opened the trap door, handed Jimmy an empty bottle and helped him down out of sight.

  “Put the cap on it when you finish,” Derek told him, “then come back up.”

  Derek walked over to the window and looked down on the truck. “Hey, we have company,” he said turning to John.

  There were five zombies loitering around the truck. John slid the window back and looked out.

  “Four males and one female,” he said.

  “What does that have to do with it?” Amy said.

  “Nothing, just giving you the information as I see it. That’s all.”

  “We need to clear those things out before we go down,” Derek said grabbing the hunting rifle.

  Jimmy rejoined them. “Hey buddy,” John said, “I have an idea. Ready to throw some flares?”

  “Yeah!” Jimmy said his face lighting up.

  John took a flare out of one of the boxes, took the cap off and handed it to him. “Ok, you remember how we did this yesterday right?” he said as Jimmy nodded yes. “Ok, same thing. Hold it out the window and light it. Then throw it as far out as you can. Derek you pick them off while they’re congregated around it.”

  “Ready when you are,” Derek answered.

  “Ok Jimmy. Do it.”

  Jimmy struck the cap across the end of the flare. It hissed to life to his delight. He tossed it out where it landed ten feet from the truck. The zombies immediately gathered around it nudging and elbowing to get closer.

  “Great throw Jimmy,” John said.

  Derek looked at John and winked. The rifle barked once as the first one fell to the ground. Leaning on the window frame for support, Derek worked the bolt dropping the next four quickly. He reloaded and waited for one of them to move. They didn’t.

  “Ducks in a barrel,” Derek said.

  “Now you have a mess to clean up,” Amy said looking at Derek and John.

  “Right,” John said, “we’ll drag them over behind those bushes and cover them with sand. No big deal.”

  “When do I get to shoot one?” Jimmy asked.

  “Never,” Amy answered.

  “I don’t know,” John said. “Maybe…”

  “I said never,” Amy interrupted scowling at John, “and that’s exactly what I meant. And it’s not open for debate.”

  “She’s right buddy,” John said relenting, “I’ll teach you to shoot the pistol. But only for protection.” Then turning to Amy. “He needs to know how to shoot.”

  “He’s right Amy,” Derek said.

  “Fine. But he only shoots at targets.”

  John nodded in agreement. “You guys get something to eat,” he said, “Derek and I will go and take care of the…mess.”

  John and Derek went to the bottom and opened the doors. The corpses lay in a pile just on the other side of the truck. Suzie followed them outside, relieved herself then went back inside.

  They worked dragging the bodies to the other side of the trees and brush and covered them with sand. Amy kept watch from the top of the lighthouse while Jimmy finished off an MRE.

  Once the work was done they grabbed a couple of five gallon buckets from the bed of the truck and closed and locked the door leading into the lighthouse. John waved up at Amy to get her attention.

  “We’re going down to the beach to get water to flush the toilet. We’ll be right back.”

  With weapons in hand they set out on the short walk to the water. There were no bodies on the beach as a stiff breeze blew in form the Atlantic. Two miles to the North ,on the Isle of Palms, they could see a beached car carrying ship. It leaned to one side at a sixty degree angle and had crashed through the pier before coming to rest.

  Standing at the water’s edge, watching the waves lap at the beach, John looked out over the water and to the horizon. It almost seems like a normal day, he thought.

  They filled the buckets and returned to the lighthouse. The restroom was on the ground level. John filled the tank on the toilet then placed the buckets bedside it. Returning to the top he explained the procedure for flushing to Amy and Jimmy then he and Derek sat down to eat.

  It was getting warmer quickly. It would be a beautiful fall day. Under normal circumstances it would be a perfect day.

  After eating John turned to Derek. “Are you ready to try the generator?”

  “May as well.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Amy asked.

  “You stay up here and stand watch. Make sure you watch all around. Three hundred and sixty degrees,” John said. “We won’t be able to see much from where we’re at. We’ll take the dog with us.”

  “I found these,” Jimmy said holding up a huge set of military issue binoculars.

  “Good job,” Derek said, “we’ll be counting on you and those binoculars to keep us safe ok.”

  “You can count on me.”

  Amy winked at Jimmy and smiled. “Ok, we’ll let you know if we see anything,” she said to John.

  “You keep the hunting rifle,” John said. “We’ll take the shotgun and the 16.”

  “You’ll take the shotgun,” De
rek said reaching for the M-16 first, “and I’ll take the 16.”

  “Right,” John said laughing.

  The generator was housed in a little shed beside the lighthouse. There was a stack of wooden pallets beside it. Sand bags were on top. A water spigot stuck out of the ground several feet away. Derek tried it but was only rewarded with a few drops. It was worth a try he thought.

  They opened the doors and peered in. The generator looked to be in good condition. There was a plastic gas container beside it. John picked it up and shook it. It had maybe a couple of quarts in it at most. He took the cap off the generator’s gas tank and stuck his finger in.

  “Half full,” he said looking at Derek, “that’s enough to last for a little while.”

  The key was in it. Derek looked at John, shrugged and turned it. It turned over slowly three times and stopped. Derek turned it back to the off position.

  “We may have to jump it off with the truck,” he said.

  Turning the key again the generator turned over twice then roared to life. John and Derek looked at each other and smiled. The main breaker was off. Derek flipped the switch.

  Immediately they heard a scream from the open window of the lighthouse. At a run they headed back to the top. Suzie made it there before John and Derek were even half way. They found Jimmy and Amy laughing hysterically.

  “What happened,” John asked.

  “The radio,” Jimmy said pointing at the radio on the counter, “it just came on by itself.”

  “There was someone talking,” Amy said, “it startled me.”

  The radio was still on but the only thing coming out of the speaker was the same old tone they had heard before.

  “What were they saying?” Derek asked.

  “We just caught the end of it. They only thing I heard was that this message will be repeated every two hours until rescue operations are called off,” she said. “That was it.”

  “Rescue operations?” Derek asked.

  “That’s what they said,” Amy answered.

  “Was it a recording or a live voice?” John asked.

  “I couldn’t tell. I didn’t hear enough of it.”

  “Lets hope it was, and not an automated recording from a dead station somewhere,” John said. Then turning to Derek. “We better turn the generator off to save fuel. We’ll turn it back on in two hours.”

  “I’ll get it,” Derek said turning to go back down.

  They sat around for the next hour and forty-five minutes anxiously waiting for time to pass. They scanned the island with the binoculars but saw nothing. John thought that was strange. He would expect to at least see some activity by the regular zombies or maybe even a gomer or two.

  At 09:50 Derek started the generator and everyone gathered around the radio.

  At precisely 10:00 A.M. The tone stopped and was replace by a female voice: “This is not a recording. It is 10:00 A.M. Eastern Standard Time. This is Petty Officer First Class Shanna Johnston of the United States Navy. I am transmitting from the USS Harry S. Truman. CV 75. An aircraft carrier of the United States Navy. We are currently working our way South down the East coast of the United States. Search and rescue aircraft are patrolling the coastline. If you are near the coast, make your way there and wait. Only do so if you can move safely. We have two helicopters and two fixed wing aircraft in the air during search and rescue operations. You should signal the aircraft by whatever means are available. Aircraft operations are only carried out during daylight hours and during satisfactory weather conditions. We will not be searching inland. All rescue operations will be conducted on the beach. Do not approach the aircraft once it lands. I repeat, do not approached the aircraft. Anyone approaching the aircraft without being told to do so will be shot. Wait for the medical team to approach you. They will tell you what to do. At the present time we are five miles off shore in the vicinity of Virginia Beach Virginia. We will be off Charleston South Carolina on Thursday, Savanna Georgia on Friday, and Jacksonville Florida On Saturday. There are eight hundred and sixty five sailors and Marines on this ship. We have rescued eighty-five additional survivors. We will work our way down the East coast then go around the tip of Florid into the Gulf of Mexico where we will continue search and rescue operations. We will update our location regularly. This message will be repeated every two hours until rescue operations cease. You are not alone. I repeat, you are not alone.”

  The tone returned as John reached over and turned the radio off. He looked up at Derek and Amy.

  “Eighty five survivors,” he said. “I would have thought there would be more.”

  “Well,” Amy said. “If they picked up eighty five from the beach logic says that there are a lot more inland you know.”

  “Right,” John said, “I would think that very few of the survivors are getting the radio transmission.”

  “Yeah,” Derek said, “I mean, I think it’s like we thought. There are survivors out there. Hidden. Afraid to come out.”

  “And for good reason,” Amy added.

  “But guys,” Amy said, “how are there eight hundred and something sailors and marines on that carrier? It doesn’t make sense. How could that many people have survived in one place, you know?”

  “Well, there are five thousand people on a carrier,” John said, “so over four thousand died. That means like twenty percent survived.”

  “Yeah but still…from what we’ve seen, that’s more than in the general population.”

  “Whatever the reason,” John said, “they’re out there and heading this way. So we just have to hold out for three more days. We need to prepare for a fire on the beach. We can use the pallets by the generator.”

  “We should soak some of it in water,” Derek said.

  “Why would you do that,” Amy asked.

  “Because,” Derek said, “if you throw wet wood on a fire it smokes like crazy.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Are we really going to go on an aircraft carrier?” Jimmy beamed.

  “Looks like it,” John said.

  “Cool. Can we go shoot the gun now?” he asked.

  John looked to Amy before speaking. She gave him a nod to let him know it was ok.

  “Sure,” John said, “we can take the baseball and gloves too. Maybe play a little catch.”

  Derek took one of the pistols and some ammo. “I’ll go set up a target on the beach.”

  John and Jimmy grabbed the ball and gloves and started down.

  “Should I stay up here and keep watch?” Amy asked John.

  “No, I think it’s safe. Come on and bring Suzie.”

  Amy slung the shotgun over her shoulder, put the leash on the dog and followed them out of the lighthouse and down to the beach. Derek had taken a two by four and buried it a couple of feet into the sand at the waters edge. Amy sat down on the sand and scanned up and down the beach. It was getting warmer and the sun felt good on her face. Still, she was nervous about being out here. She un-slung the shotgun and laid it across her lap. They can have all the fun they want she thought but she would be ready. Derek stood near John and Jimmy holding the assault rifle by the handgrip. John kneeling down, was explaining how to drop and insert the magazine and how to put the pistol on safe. Jimmy looked on enthusiastically. Eager to learn.

  John stood and fired first. The top of the two by four splintered and flew apart. Suzie barked and strained at the leash. Amy calmed her and made her sit back down.

  “Ok Jimmy,” John said, “you’re up.”

  John had Jimmy extend his arms in the direction of the target and then placed the gun in his hands.

  “The first time I’m going to hold onto the gun too ok.”

  “Ok.”

  “Hold it tight and pull the trigger when you’re ready.”

  Jimmy held his breath, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The pistol kicked with John taking most of the recoil.

  “Missed,” John said.

  “Whoa, Maggie’s drawers,” Derek said laugh
ing.

  John started laughing too remembering when he said the same thing while taking target practice the morning after spending the night in the barn.

  “How are you going to hit anything if you close your eyes,” John told him. “This time keep your eyes open and remember how I told you to aim.”

  Once again they took up their stance and fired. John added less pressure this time.

  “I’m not going to hold it as tight this time Jimmy. You have to hold it.”

  Jimmy closed one eye, sighted down the barrel, held on tight and pulled the trigger. This time John let Jimmy take most of the recoil but the gun still jumped back too much. A bullet nicked the corner of the wood sending a small chip flying.

  “Did I hit it?” Jimmy asked, “did I hit it?”

  “Kind of,” John answered, “try it again. You think you can hold it by yourself. This time?”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s all yours then.”

  John stepped back giving Jimmy room. He looked over at John nervously.

  “I’m right here beside you buddy. Go ahead. Whenever you’re ready.”

  Jimmy took a couple of deep breaths, held the gun as tightly as he could and squeezed the trigger.

  The gun barked as the bullet left the barrel. Jimmy managed to hold on as the top of the two by four flew into a thousand pieces.

  “I hit it,” he cried, “I hit it!”

  Derek and Amy clapped as Jimmy stood there grinning, very satisfied with his marksmanship.

  “Shoot again,” she told him.

  Jimmy stepped back up and raised the pistol. He repeated the same sequence and fired again.

  “Wow,” John said, “you hit it again.”

  Jimmy, grinning, ears ringing and his hands hurting walked over to John and handed him the gun.

  “Had enough?” John asked him.

  “Yeah, that’s enough,” he said, “can we play ball now?”

  John smiled and gave Amy a thumbs-up. She smiled back.