Passing the halfway point, she found a larger section with a railing on three sides. She stopped and pulled her radio. Checking that the volume was low, she pushed the transmit button.
“Terry? Liam?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
It was Liam.
“I think we can get down. I’ll know once I get to the north wall. There’s only that one ladder that I can see, but I won’t know if there’s enough walkway until I get closer to the corner.”
“Be careful.” Still Liam.
“I will. Out.”
She clipped the radio back on her belt and kept moving. In five more minutes she reached the corner.
Her heart sank. Between where she now stood and the ladder mounted to the wall, stretched fifteen feet of nothing.
Roxy looked up and her heart fluttered; just two feet above her head was a daisy chain of rebar brackets bolted to the ceiling above her. Mounted to each was a single, heavy-duty floodlight, long since cold.
She reached up and gripped the first one. Pulled herself up, hung from it.
It held. She would have to monkey bar it over there. Grab one bar, swing a bit, catch the next, swing, and so on.
She who hesitates is lost, her mind said. She heard it in her mother’s voice. She always said that to Roxy when she was considering a sport she was nervous about.
Anything you set your mind to.
Roxy went for it. She gripped the first bracket with both hands, got some swinging momentum, and reached for the second.
Caught it!
Releasing the first bar, she clung to the second, swinging gently until her left arm released and reached for the third. Yes!
She released the second bar and heard a sound.
Chills ran down her spine. It was not zombies. It was the creaking of something metal pulling out of something else.
One side of the bracket pulled from the ceiling, and she now hung at a precarious angle by just one hand, dangling there over the stacks of dead bodies and twisted metal.
Her face looking downward, she knew she could not hang on for long; she scanned side-to-side, looking for a soft place to land where she wouldn’t be impaled by a steel rod or a jagged piece of diamond mesh.
She suppressed a scream as the piece gripped in her hand pulled free, taking the decision away from her.
She plummeted to the floor, twisting her body as she fell, using her old gymnastic talents to keep from being seriously injured.
She landed with a thud on her back, fully expecting to crack her head open on either another skull or hard steel.
Neither happened. Her body hit hard, but it was against other bodies.
One shifted beneath her.
She heard a growl, guttural, right near her ear.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins, and in a single motion she rolled to her left, reached for her sharpened file and turned back, jamming it deep into the forehead of the monster whose body was too destroyed for it to move.
Its head was intact, with sagging gray skin and black, eyes that should have not had the capability of sight, but certainly did. Either way, the teeth were still quite capable of taking a chunk out of her, setting her out to pursue an endless moveable feast of humanity.
Black goo oozed from the wound when she jerked the file out and wiped it on the clothing of a dead refugee who had his own serious head injury.
Roxy got her knees under her and stood shakily, relieved to discover she was uninjured. She balanced there for a couple of seconds before choosing her steps carefully, making her way to the edge of the pile of ravaged and broken bodies and metal.
“Thanks,” she said, toward the dead ones that had been her cushion. “Except for you.” That was directed at the dead thing that would have taken her ear off without her quick reflexes.
Reaching the wall, she quickly slapped her hand where her radio was supposed to be and was immediately relieved. It was there, but she hadn’t checked when she was lying among the dead bodies.
Pressing the button, she said, “Terry? You there?”
“I am,” he said. “You okay? I heard a noise.”
“Yeah, yeah. That was me. Tried a bit of acrobatics that wasn’t in my repertoire of talents.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I had a soft landing. Anyway, Ter. There are no dead in here, but there’s no way I can see to get you down from there. I wouldn’t recommend my method.”
“Is it safe to go just outside the door?”
“Maybe, why?”
“Remember when Micky showed you guys what happened to that baby? The one that changed after it was born?”
“Yes, I’ll never forget it.”
“Well, inside that closet was an extension ladder. I only remember because the feet were facing outward and at first, I wasn’t sure what it was. Then I figured it out.”
“The stuff you notice.”
“I was exhausted. I think my brain was skipping. Anyway, it’s there.”
“Is it tall enough?” asked Roxy.
“It went all the way to the back of that shed. Maybe.”
“It’s worth a shot. Okay, you guys alright?”
“Liam and Gabriel have to pee.”
“It’s safe. You and Nina take them out on the catwalk. Stay near the rail and let them pee off the side. Nobody below will mind.”
“You got it. Be careful.”
“Okay. Over, out.”
Roxy re-clipped the radio on her belt and moved westward along the back wall, moving toward the door. Realizing the moonlight was casting in through the door, she reached up and covered, then switched off her headlamp.
No sense in being a beacon in the night, no matter how good the dead’s eyesight may or may not be.
Approaching the door, she stepped to the side and peered out. As her eyes adjusted to the moonlit darkness outside, she saw shapes moving in the distance, but the scraping, shuffling sound of the hordes as they moved was not loud.
It was there; the only sound besides the constant night insects that permeated any rural town after dark. On the other hand, the new-to-the-world music of the horde was like a gigantic straw broom brushing the pavement, continuous and creepy, but a warning, nonetheless.
The sound was low and distant, as though the monsters had eaten their fill, determined the food supply to be exhausted, and had moved onto the next place.
May they keep on walking, thought Roxy.
As she rounded the corner of the door and walked outside, she saw them; bodies just like inside, but not as concentrated. Some were small, like children. Others were clearly adult.
Roxy wondered how many had been attacked, died, and rose again to walk with the horde. She could choose to believe they escaped them, and were far ahead of the pack, out of danger. She went with that. It was easier to deal with.
Turning to her left, she spotted the doorknob, and hoped it wasn’t locked. She hadn’t recalled Micky using keys to open it, so she prayed as she stepped toward it.
She reached the door and turned the knob. The lever handle pivoted and the door pulled open.
It was dark inside, so as she faced the deep shadows, she reached for the switch on her headlamp. Her childhood fears blowing up again, her mind ramped all the way up to freak-out mode, and just before she flipped the switch to turn the light on, she staggered backward slightly, sure a dead face would surge toward her the moment the light hit it.
There were stacks of plastic, 5-gallon pails, old paint cans, tarps, some rakes – all the shovels had been taken as weapons – and at her feet, the extension ladder.
Terry was right; it had to be 12 feet collapsed. She believed the 22 feet or so it would extend would easily get her to the catwalk near the control booth.
She bent down to lift it, and a groan came from behind her. She’d been worried about the darkness within; she should have been more aware of the unknown without.
As she jumped inside the shed and reached to pull the door closed, th
e growl became a … bark.
Heart racing, Roxy laughed out loud. She turned around and pushed the door open wide again. The German Shepherd stared at her. It barked again, then hurried forward, its paws up on her, licking her face like she was a Popsicle.
“Shh, Nokosi,” she urged, kneeling down and letting the big girl crawl into her lap and wriggle.
“Where have you been? How did you get away from those … ?” She stopped talking, chastising herself. She hadn’t seen the shepherd for days, and it felt like a reunion. Nokosi began to whimper, clearly feeling the same way.
“Whoa, now, sweetie,” laughed Roxy. “You be quiet. Now that you know I’m relieved to see you, too.”
Nokosi still let out involuntary whimpers but obeyed for the most part. Roxy gently pushed Nokosi off her lap, stood up and bent down and lifted the ladder. The moment she did she was violently reminded of the pain in her bladder. She’d been so focused on getting down and the subsequent fall that the urge had momentarily been forgotten.
She set the ladder down and stepped off to the side of the building and quickly took care of business. The German Shepherd panted behind her but kept quiet. Relieved of the painful cramps she returned for the ladder.
In ten more minutes, Roxy had the ladder through the southernmost door of the auditorium and was struggling to extend it. It just reached with six inches to spare.
Ω
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Qaletaqa’s Advance
Night had fallen, and the rumble of dead feet marching behind the vehicles grew louder by the mile. With every small town they passed, their army grew.
While the path ahead was clear – relatively, anyway – the sheer sound of the massive horde drew more of the dead from all sides. In some cases, the influx of dead slowed them for a short time, but in every case, they became more dangerous.
Those behind may not catch up until they reached their destination and stopped, but those they encountered fell in by the hundreds.
None in Qaletaqa’s group could even guess the size of the horde following them anymore.
And now they were little more than two hours away.
“Increase your speed,” he ordered. “Do not get too far ahead, but go faster.”
He smiled. His daughter would not destroy his plans; not after what he had done for her. He still hoped it was some kind of ruse; that she was toying with the young Henomawi chief, taking them to a place where she knew her father – the mighty Qaletaqa – the original Mundunugu – could destroy them like shooting fish in a barrel.
It amused him; Tala did not know the incantations necessary to grant the special abilities and long lifespan to others.
He wondered if she had discovered the dead did not seek her. It would not take long for a smart girl like her to figure that out, but to actually decipher the chants necessary to change those she was with would … .
He stopped thinking about it. It made him realize he was more worried than even he wanted to admit to himself.
It was why he had told the driver to increase the speed. It was why he could only think of his arrival, and how he would fill the cavern with the dead.
They would pour in like the black rain flooded the gullies, changing everything in its path.
Yes, Tala was bright, but it had taken him several trips over many years to find the pieces of text that would change him – and her.
And ultimately, the world. But he had done it.
His anger grew at the thought. All those years of planning. All that work. He would not fail now! He never believed his daughter – whom he loved with all his heart – would betray him and become his primary obstacle.
Stop it. Stop thinking like that! You don’t know!
But as surely as the wisps of hair rolled with the frigid wind that whistled through the canyons, he knew.
He felt it.
He gritted his old teeth together so hard he felt one crack in two.
He spat out the shards of broken enamel and bit his lip with the jagged remainder, just to taste the blood on his lips.
Powerful blood. Ageless blood.
Ω
A Few Miles from The Henomawi Reservation
Garland Hunter
The torch was cheap, but he utilized lighter materials than he’d used on Chester. This gator was slightly larger, and definitely bigger around than his first pet, and its teeth were in way better condition.
Everyone else stood back, watching him like he was a lunatic. Patsy looked absolutely mesmerized, chewing her upper lip like it was taffy. “Wait’ll Pauly hears about this,” she muttered.
“You two the same age?” she asked.
“Twins,” she answered. “I’m a couple seconds older, though.”
“Cool,” said Albert.
Lester, Chester’s replacement, wasn’t tied or chained up; he was just sitting there with the string of towels tied over his eyes like a fat blindfold. Without his dead eyes seeing his prey, he was as docile as they come.
This seemed to come as a surprise to Garland’s passengers.
Garland used the acetylene torch to cut out shapes he had already pre-designed in his head; the information was still there from all the trial and error he’d had to do with the first harness. He even took the time to grind some rod stock into some sharp, conical pieces that he would weld onto the collar portion, like the spikes on Chester’s collar.
They wouldn’t be as sharp or as perfect, but he was operating on a tighter clock right now.
“Gimme about ten more minutes, y’all. A grind here, a grind there, a few spot-welds, and we’ll be golden. How’s the generator holdin’ up, Albert?”
“Good,” said Albert, rubbing a hand over his cropped hair. “Plenty of fuel left.”
Ten minutes later, Garland said, “Okay, y’all give me a hand with this thing. Two on each side.”
Albert and Garland got the right side, and two of the braver of his crew got the other. Patsy stood clear for the moment, still unsure.
“Okay, sidestep toward Lester there, and let’s lay it over him.”
“He gonna move?” asked Landon, another of the Nacogdoche men. “I ain’t never seen a gator except in movies.”
“Nope, just step over him. Go, now!” said Garland.
They did.
“Okay, lower it down. Easy, now. Don’t drop it on him if you don’t want a zombiegator up your ass.”
Eyeing the tail, Landon eased it down with the others.
“Like a goddamned glove!” shouted Garland. “Okay, gimme your knife.”
Albert pulled his blade from his sheath. “Here.”
Garland took it, sliced easily through the towels, and slid them out from beneath the harness. It fell into place as though he’d spent days making exact measurements and adjustments.
“Okay, let’s put the pivot pins in and run those metal straps underneath him.”
“And how the hell we gonna do that?” asked Landon.
Albert didn’t answer. He walked over to the hydraulic floor jack and rolled it over. “I was wondering why you had me get this.”
“Smart fella,” said Garland. “Let’s jack his head up.”
With six good full-range pumps, the gator’s front half was off the ground. Nary a croak came from the blinded creature.
They moved the one-inch wide steel straps underneath, and Garland rolled the welder over again and tacked them in place with a couple of hot welds.
When it was finished, Garland stepped back and lifted the bright, chrome chain welded to the center ring on the back of its collar.
“Hand me that hook rod,” he said, and one of the other guys retrieved it. “What’s that for?” he asked.
“Stand over there, about ten feet in front of Lester.”
“Wh-what?”
“Just do it. You asked what this rod’s for.”
The man shrugged. “I’ll pass.” He sidestepped, eyeing the blinded gator and Garland.
“If you want to get to wh
ere everyone else is, just do it, man!” said Albert.
“The thing’ll kill me!”
“I won’t let it get you. Like Albert said, we’re wastin’ time.”
“I’ll do it, Garland.”
“No, you won’t. What’s your name, man?”
“Me?” asked the man who wouldn’t bait the gator.
“Yeah. You.”
“Gavin.”
“Gavin?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Where you from, Gavin?” asked Garland. “Sounds like you’re from some goddamned country club up in goddamned Vermont or some shit.”
“I … I am from Vermont,” he stammered. “How’d you –”
“I didn’t know!” said Garland. “I had a one-in-fifty chance, and I got lucky. Now, if you wanna stay lucky, move your ass ten feet in front of Lester here. Now!”
Gavin hurried forward, fumbling with his .380 Ruger.
“You shoot my gator and I’ll put a much bigger bullet than that one between your eyes,” warned Garland. “Ready?”
“For what?” asked Gavin, holding the gun at his side with shaking hands.
Garland hooked the rod in the eye-plate and gave it a good pull. The plate pivoted up, smooth as you please.
Garland double-fisted the chain and leaned back. Lester’s mouth opened, exposing rows of sharp teeth. The huge, dead reptile bellowed, then charged.
It made it five feet toward Gavin in a single lunge, and Garland dove forward, landing on top of the enormous gator and slamming the plate back down over its eyes.
Lester stopped immediately, his mouth snapping closed with a massive crack that sent black goo spattering all over Gavin.
The black spray on his face and the wet stain at the crotch of Gavin’s pants sent Garland into laughing fits.
“Well, Goddamnit, if Lester don’t think you’re the shit! Okay, Gav. He likes you, buddy. That means you’re the bait to get this dude onto that new flatbed.”
Ω
Everybody had stripped down to our birthday suits before stepping into the water, which was, for some reason, surprisingly warm.
We got naked, not just because Tala told us to, but out of necessity; it was winter, and if our clothes got soaking wet, we could freeze to death.
Judgement Page 25
