Eaters: Resurrection

by Michelle DePaepe

  Once the candle was snuffed out, she lay there wide awake for some time, listening to the snores and occasional murmur from the sanctuary. She half expected Aidan to come in to the bedroom and snuggle up beside her, but after an hour of lying there by herself fighting insomnia, she figured he was still angry with her and wasn’t going to try to share her bed. She drifted off to sleep and began to dream about working in the garden behind Divine Sundaes, a dream that turned into a nightmare as the corn she watered changed into waving gray hands and arms poking out of the soil.

  ###

  When Cheryl woke hours later, the room was still pitch black. She instinctively searched for the red numbers on her bedside alarm clock before realizing there wasn’t any electricity to power a clock and she was far away from her old apartment room back in Golden, Colorado.

  The sound of long, deep breaths and the occasional snore from the sanctuary brought her back to Sabre, Arizona and the present dark times that seemed to have no end. She felt the weight of too much watery soup pressing on her bladder and warily conceded that she was going to have to make the trek a few yards away to the bathroom down the hall.

  It was too dark for her eyes to adjust and make out even a semblance of form in the darkness, so she felt her way along to the doorway then along the wall. She took her time, knowing that she could bump into Diego on his patrol and cause both of them a fright. By the time she was half way to the bathroom, she realized that she’d left her gun on the nightstand. Telling herself, she didn’t need it because she’d be quick, she inched forward instead of backtracking to retrieve it.

  After taking care of business in the bathroom, she zipped up her jeans, buckled her belt, and stood in the bathroom doorway, wondering where Diego was. She hoped for the reassurance of hearing him making his rounds, but she heard nothing. There were no footsteps and no sound of heavy boots on the ladder going to the roof. She finally satisfied herself with the thought that he was probably standing still at the front window, keeping an eye on the parking lot.

  She returned to the bedroom and paused just inside the doorway. The air seemed heavier than it had before she left, and there was a musty scent she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Aidan? Are you in here?”

  Silence.

  She whispered again and heard nothing. Cursing the fact that she couldn’t see a blessed thing, she reached for her gun or her candle, whichever was closest. Her hand knocked the matchbook from the bedside table to the floor. She crouched down and felt around for it, but found nothing but dusty tile.

  Just go back to bed.

  The voice, her voice—it was right. She was so tired, she just wanted to lie back down and enjoy the last few hours before daylight.

  She slid between the sheets and closed her eyes. Two more seconds passed before a hand clamped over her mouth, and she felt cold steel pressing against her spine.

  “If you make a sound or do anything stupid, you’re dead.”

  Erik.

  Her heart thumped in her chest. She nodded that she’d cooperate, despite the fact that she doubted she’d do it. When he released his hand from her mouth and clamped it around her wrist, but didn’t say anything for a few seconds. She asked, “What do you want?”

  He laughed an odd, broken chuckle that sounded like the insane mutterings of an asylum patient.

  Cheryl considered her options. This certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been cornered by someone trying to rape her…or eat her. She’d escaped all of those situations in the past through sheer will, extreme violence using whatever weapon she had on hand and…a bit of luck. His next words made her realize there was more at stake than her own life.

  “Your gun has enough rounds in it to kill everyone in here…twice. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll take you all out. It’ll be just like any other day at work.”

  She remained silent, but she squirmed, testing the strength of his grip on her wrist.

  “You probably think I’m after your pretty ass. Don’t flatter yourself. Back in Sedona, I had finer tail every weekend.”

  Somewhat relieved, she sniped, “Why don’t you enlighten me then so you can be on your way. I’m losing sleep.”

  “Smartass. Don’t you know I’ve killed people for being less insolent?”

  She actually doubted that. She’d witnessed enough of the O.N.E. soldiers in action to know they had pretty strict protocol for handling civilians, even if their brainwashing did turn them into cold-blooded killers. Even so, she decided not to intentionally push his buttons.

  He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered a question with hot, fetid breath. “Where are you hiding Jeremiah?”

  She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Had the guy lost his mind? Her answer came out sounding more irritated than she’d intended. “We told you what happened to Jeremiah. He went out to bury Cassie and disappeared. We think he committed suicide.”

  “But you never found either body, right? You think I buy that he traipsed miles away carrying a corpse and then just took himself out? Pastor Jeremiah?” He said the name with a contemptuous snarl. “You really think he took his own life? Wouldn’t that be a sacrilege?”

  She knew that it didn’t make a lot of sense, but the man was grieving for a girl that he considered to be his own daughter. After losing his previous family, it seemed possible that he’d gone to extreme lengths to go somewhere far away to commit suicide so he wouldn’t burden Hannah and the rest of the group with the discovery of his body. “We’ll find their bodies one day soon,” she said. “Then, we’ll give them a proper burial.”

  “You’re lying. You know where he is. I think you’re hiding him somewhere.”

  Fearing that this conversation was going in circles with no good ending, she tried to get at his motive. “Why do you care where he is?”

  “He’s the last XCGen scientist alive. At least the last one that was involved in the initial experimentation with the virus. All the others are dead. Even the ones who got the vaccine—they all eventually got sick. For some reason…he didn’t. Master Luke wants him for testing…to find out why.”

  All dead? Every scientist at the lab? On one hand, she didn’t think that seemed unusual, since so much of the population was also deceased. On the other, it was peculiar that those scientists all had intensive exposure and became infected…except for one. The questions swirled in her head, but two floated to the surface like bloated pieces of offal. Had Jeremiah been infected before he got the vaccine and it had just forestalled the inevitable? Had the virus lain dormant in him all this time and just recently resurfaced? Her fiancé had gotten sick and had recovered after getting the vaccine, but maybe he’d just been lucky. If that was the case with Jeremiah, then it made sense that he killed himself if he was seeing signs of symptoms in himself when he went to bury Cassie. The other miserable scenario she considered was that Jeremiah was a carrier of the virus. If so, maybe he was the one who had infected Hannah. He could also have given it to the other survivors in the area instead of them getting infected from the garden crops. If Jeremiah came to the conclusion that he was responsible for the sickness around him that might have been enough to prompt him to take his own life. Even given his faith and knowing how devastated Hannah would be from his loss, he may have felt that it was the right thing to do.

  Erik jabbed the gun deeper into her flesh. “Are you going to lie there like a deaf mute or are you going to tell me where he is?”

  “He’s dead. I told you. There’s no other possibility.”

  He grunted. “Look…I’ll blast a hole right through you then I’ll go out and start firing on the others. I don’t give a shit about any of you. I’ll blast you all to hell then just get in the van and blaze out of here. Tell me the truth!”

  His agitation made him forget about keeping his voice low. Cheryl worried that someone would hear him. As long as she could keep him talking, it seemed possible that she could reason with him and calm him down. The last thing she wanted was for Diego
, Aidan, or one of the others to come in the room, because she knew Erik would fire at the sound of anyone entering.

  “I am telling you the truth,” she said as calmly as she could. “Can you please get the gun out of my back so we can sit up and talk about this?”

  He took a couple of heavy breaths then there was a sigh of resignation as if he knew he was running out of options because his plan wasn’t working.

  Cheryl hedged her bets that she could push him a little bit more. After all, he hadn’t come to Divine Sundaes with guns blazing. He’d taken his time with Vinnie, probably knowing all along that he was RT and had a connection to Jeremiah through she and Aidan. Then, with extreme patience he’d helped move all those corpses and engaged them in friendly banter in the hope of finding out if they were hiding Jeremiah somewhere. This was a man with a goal—he’d bear more discussion if he thought it would have a rewarding end. “We can sit up and talk about Jeremiah. I’m going to slowly get up and close the door. Then, I’m going to light the candle.”

  He didn’t protest, so she scooted forward, cautiously rejoicing in the fact that she could no longer feel the steel against her spine. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he whispered. “You’ll never make it down that hallway.”

  She did consider running when her feet touched the floor but decided it would be a mistake. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed to the door, shut it and said, “I dropped the matches on the floor, I’m going to feel around and find them.”

  Click.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, knowing that he’d just cocked his gun. “I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t have any other weapons stashed in here.” Of course he didn’t know that their entire arsenal was just behind the panel in Jeremiah’s laboratory. She tried not to dwell on the fact that so much firepower was out of her reach.

  When she found the matches and lit the candle, she found herself looking into Erik’s crazed eyes. His hair was standing up like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over. Although the fact that he looked like a madman unnerved her, she was more concerned about the fact that the gun he had pointed at her wasn’t hers—it looked just like Diego’s.

  Okay. Stay calm. There was no telling where he got the gun, but it couldn’t be Diego’s. If Erik had attacked him, the commotion would have woken everyone in the building. Maybe, it was his. Maybe, he’d snuck out and got it out of the van at some point.

  “Jeremiah’s not dead,” Erik said

  “How do you know?” she asked. “How could you possibly—”

  “He was chipped at XCGen. There was a microchip that relayed his vital signs to O.N.E. It was still reporting info. the night I left Sedona.”

  “That was a couple of days ago, right? Jeremiah disappeared last night.”

  “Right before Vinnie and I showed up. How convenient.”

  “Look,” she said. “Here’s an idea. If O.N.E. wanted him, isn’t it possible that some other creep picked him up before you got here?”

  Ignoring the insult, Erik said, “Someone from O.N.E. came down here before me and grabbed him? I guess I can’t rule that out. The bounty on him was issued on April 30th, the night before the May day event.”

  A bounty? On Jeremiah? And all that time, Jeremiah thought O.N.E. had left him alone because of some divine dictate. They left him alone, because they knew where he was…and we’re just waiting until they decided that they needed him. Maybe now, his disappearance made more sense. Last night, out in the dark, Jeremiah had been confronted by armed thugs. He likely refused to go with them before giving Cassie a proper burial. They must have promised him something—a coffin, a more dignified burial plot. Then, willing or not, he got into the vehicle with Cassie’s remains and they rode off somewhere.

  “If that’s what happened…” Cheryl said, her voice trembling as she imagined what shock Jeremiah must have been in at the time to have such a thing happen right after losing Cassie. “…where would they have taken him?”

  Erik studied her for a moment as if wondering if she was worthy of receiving that information. “Sedona was bust after the fucking RT did their damage. I suppose they’d have taken him to the next largest O.N.E. controlled city with a lab.” His solemnity revealed just how deflated he was at the idea that he might have lost his chance at the bounty offered on Jeremiah’s head.

  “Where?” she asked again.

  “Denver.”

  Cheryl hung her head for a moment, trying to take in the idea that Jeremiah might still be alive, that he might have been kidnapped and taken so far away. When she looked up again, she saw alternating expressions of confusion and anger on Erik’s face. At any second, she expected that he would dismiss the whole theory, start waving his gun at her and demand once again to know where she’d hidden Jeremiah.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but before a renewed inquisition could begin, a horrifying sound shattered the silence in the room. It was a man’s bloodcurdling scream followed by the rat-tat-tat-tat of gunfire.

  Diego!

  “What’s going on?” Erik asked as he leaped from the bed.

  “We’re being attacked.”

  Chapter 7

  Cheryl yanked the door open, and there was a collision as Erik ran smack into Zach and Aidan as they were rushing towards the bedroom to get their guns out of the laboratory. No one stopped to question why Erik was in the bedroom with her, but Aidan’s face was cold and accusing when he entered the room. He brushed past her and ran straight to the hidden panel in the wall.

  “We’ve got a problem!” Zach yelled, as he helped to gather the guns. “Some climbers made it to the roof and nearly got Diego, and there’s a massive horde headed straight for us.”

  She tried to shake the numbness from her body. A horde. Massive. She wanted to say a prayer, do anything but have to see another round of endless corpses moaning, clawing, desperate to get their teeth into her flesh.

  Aidan thrust a rifle into her hand. “We’re going up!”

  She stood where she was. The roof? Was that the right decision? It would give a better vantage point for shooting, but what was the use if the numbers coming at them were greater than the bullets they had left and some of them were able to climb? Maybe it would be better to hunker down inside Divine Sundaes and hope some of the herd kept going up the road, and that the walls, roof, and windows would hold up against the rest.

  Neither was a good option. Experience had taught her that it was better to be on the move, fleeing danger on a motorcycle, in a car, or even on foot than to be trapped inside a building with no option to run.

  “Let’s go!”

  It was Zach shouting at her now. She wondered where Erik had gone. Could he be trusted to help them fight? He damn well better. Then, if they survived this attack, they could figure out how to handle this rat in their midst.

  The urgency of the situation finally prompted her towards the storage room. When she reached it, she saw the ladder underneath the open trapdoor. The shouts and gunfire echoed in her ears as she looked up at the black hole above. The sense of absolute dread followed her up every step.

  Before she reached the top, the inkiness of the sky foretold the bad news that dawn was still a few hours away. A night battle was far more dangerous because it was harder to spot something leaping out of the shadows at you.

  Once she emerged on the roof, she saw they were all up there—Aidan, Zach, Jordan, Kai, and Vinnie. Even Diego was still up there, firing with one hand because his other arm hung limply at his side from some recent injury. She could see why they needed all the firepower they had. There were fifty to sixty Eaters surrounding the building, and there were more coming up the road. She couldn’t see more than a quarter mile in the distance, but it looked like there were hundreds more on the way.

  Taking a position a few feet away from Aidan, she found a solid stance then began firing randomly at the decrepit heads. Many of her shots and the projectiles fired by her companio
ns hit their marks, but it seemed like they were barely making a dent in the onslaught. She began to drift into that surreal zone she’d found herself in back at Fort San Manuel, seeing everything happen in slow motion, every detail of her surroundings, coming into closer focus as she tried to block out the horrific sight of the advancing monsters. She could see the fallen drain pipe lying on the ground where it must have fallen after being pulled down by one of the Eaters that tried to make their way up to Diego. With it down, none of them were making any headway up the walls, but a few were gaining some elevation by climbing on the bodies that had fallen in front of them. That could be worrisome if the piles got too high. It could be a situation like what had happened at Fort San Manuel. A large group there had tried to climb the outer fence topped with barbed wire. They fell then others climbed on top of them. Eventually, the writhing bodies were stacked high enough that it was possible for some of them to breach the fence. Fortunately, the rebar spikes in the dry moat caught most of those that toppled over. There was no defense setup like that here.

  Firing at the heads of those closest to the building on her side, she knocked down wide swaths, but another row advanced over the top of them, and they just kept coming. All shapes, sizes, and ages, corpses that used to be old men, young women, kids. Even though she’d been doing this for almost a year now, it was still brutal to think of them as people. They weren’t human any more. They were just automatons, eating machines, with no consciousness beyond ravenous hunger.