by Byrd, Daniel
Houseman stood up and pushed his chair under the table, "I'm not risking the lives of our men. Hamilton is enough."
"What if it turns out that their base is near a populated area? We can't order an evacuation; that would draw attention. Has Loft talked with the Prime Minister of Germany about this? The U.N.? Hell, how many of the rest of the brass know about this?”
Houseman approached the door as Hampton waited anxiously for an answer. Nothing more was answered as he left the room.
Chapter Thirteen - Avenge with Darkness
Smoke. Joel Blythe could smell smoke all around him as he sat on the charred front steps of his old house. There was a hint of gasoline in the air that once warmed his selfish desires for vengeance. The scene was all too familiar, and he'd hoped by now that the memory would have sunk far into the back of his mind with the world seemingly merging with Hell itself, yet here he was on the night that sent his life spiraling into an inferno of pain and burdens.
"Joel!" Mason cried from the hallway inside the open door. The sheer terror in his friend’s voice couldn’t even pull Joel away from his brooding. Mason, the poor bastard. No…Joel didn’t feel any regrets. At least, not then. Now, as he sat in that moment again as he had many times before in his dreams, he actually hesitated with the phone. He knew how it played from there. Mason got away, and then Joel found him in his home, and…it was the day Joel went from being the protagonist in his story of life to the villain that ruined it all. It was the day he turned his back to God, and everything else he’d believed in.
Joel shook his head and dialed the number, waiting for the operator to pick up before abruptly hanging up. He figured that should draw some attention. Now it was time to ignite the flame of vengeance. He could hear the sirens now. They were growing louder by the second...louder...and more vivid.
***
They had broken through the quiet night, and into Joel's sleep. He almost welcomed it, and sat up on the couch, taking a look around the den. There was no mistake. He hadn't dreamt the sound. He slowly got to his feet and walked into the hallway. Katherine was making her way downstairs noisily, stumbling over the robe that was a bit large for her. George's wife had indeed eaten her fair share of her own meals. Joel condemned himself for such a thought and moved to help Katherine down.
"Did you hear that?" she asked.
"Yeah. You don't think-"
A crash came from the kitchen. Katherine began to take steps back up the stairs as Joel stepped carefully toward the door to the kitchen. He grabbed the doorknob, but stopped when his instinct kicked him for failing to procure the one thing any trained combatant should have on their person. Weapon.
He looked around in the dark and stubbed his toe on a vase. To him, it would have to do. If all else failed, shards of pottery were pretty sharp. Lifting it up in his left hand, he went back to the door.
Bracing himself for whatever he’d find inside, he turned the handle and pushed. A shadow moved in the dark interior of the room, prompting Joel to prepare his attack. A hand wrapped around the edge of the door and pulled it the rest of the way open. Joel readied the vase, but was surprised to see Mrs. Elliot standing before him as she flipped a light switch.
"What's going on out there? Why...why are you holding my grandmother's vase?" she demanded.
"Forgive me, I didn't know you were awake. I-I was convinced…sorry," he muttered with a sigh, setting the vase back in the hallway.
"What the blazes is going on down there?! Margaret!" George's voice sounded from upstairs.
"Nothing dear!" Mrs. Elliot shouted back. "We were all just startled by the sirens. Go back to bed!"
"Mrs. Elliot, why are you up so late?" Katherine asked.
"Oh, I just thought I'd get a jump on tomorrow's lunch. I had just turned the gas on when-"
Another set of sirens came screaming by the house. The hallway was briefly illuminated by the flashing blue lights. Joel ran back into the den and turned the radio on.
“-your doors, and refrain from interacting with the infected. If you or a loved one have made contact with the infected and have been bitten, do not seek medical help. You will only endanger the lives of others. Authorities are aware of the situation, and they ask that all citizens cooperate as they try and get the disturbance under control. Again, the infected have been sighted in the city of Gravesend, and are attacking anyone they-”
Joel turned the radio off. Katherine covered her mouth, but the words "Oh my God," escaped between her fingers. Mrs. Elliot went upstairs to get her husband while Joel checked the back alley through the blinds of the window.
"See anything?" Katherine whispered in his ear.
"No," Joel answered, "and we need to get out of here while we still don't."
Margaret and George joined them a minute later. Joel was running frantically from window to window in the den. He didn't want to miss anything slipping by his view and getting a surprise attack. If they were capable of opening doors, then they were in a lot of trouble. George kept watch by the front door, leaving it cracked enough to peer through the opening. People were running by in the streets, and an occasional car sped by. There didn't seem to be any imminent danger quite yet, not counting the speeding bulks of metal. Tires screeching in the distance indicated something wrong. Finally, a police car stopped in the road in front of the house. The young lawman stepped out and noticed George standing in the doorway. He hurried to the porch and waved his arm at him.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stay inside. There are corpses coming this way."
"Corpses?" George asked.
"The infected, sir. It's not safe here."
"Officer, you look after your own. We can handle ourselves; we won't be in your way."
"I cannot allow you to leave shelter. Get back inside and stay away from doors and windows. We have this under control. If you intervene, you will be arrested for obstruction."
George had a hard time believing that one, but obliged so as to prevent disruption of the officer's job. It only hurt others to get angry at nonsense. "Alright then, I'll just be closing the door and checking on the family."
The officer nodded and ran off when he noticed others fleeing. George shut the door and joined the others in the den.
"We need to leave," he told them.
"Somehow, I feel like that's not what the nice lad outside said we should do," Margaret commented.
"Where to?" Katherine asked.
"The docks. Assuming it hasn't been stolen, we'll get my boat and go down the river for a while to wait and plan. I have a hard time believing a body with no mind can swim."
Joel kept his eyes through the blinds of a window in the corner, nodding. "I think it's our best shot. Let's go."
"Wait!" Katherine cried, "My...I'm...," she blushed as she looked down, "I need appropriate clothes."
"Oh for Heaven's...Margaret! You two go and get dressed! Joel...actually, Joel, what would you have us do?"
Joel was about to question George's decision, when he realized that he himself was the one with a leader's experience. He waved the two women off and grabbed George's shoulder. "Keep an eye on the front door. If you see any suspicious person, living or dead, you call for me. Do you have any weapons in the house?"
George darted across the room and retrieved Margaret's knife from behind the potted plant. He offered it to Joel, but Joel refused.
"Keep it. I can manage. Do you have a vehicle?"
"In the garage, just go behind the stairs there."
"Good. When they return, we'll depart for the docks. Keep an eye on the front until then."
George heeded his word and stood watch with the front door cracked open. The patrol car was still in the middle of the street. The officer was currently approaching a man walking down the middle of the road in his direction. The officer reached for something on his belt and acknowledged the nearing man.
"Sir, go back to your residence! It isn't safe to be out and about at this time! I will place you under a
rrest if you do not comply!"
The man stared at him and snarled. George's eyes widened. The man was obviously infected, but the bobby wasn’t backing down. The officer withdrew a spray canister from his belt as the man sped up in his advance. The officer squeezed the trigger of the canister and released a liquid into the air that clung to the skin of the zombie. The creature appeared harmed at first, but for the most part the deterrent only served as a hindrance. The infected man ignored the painful mist and charged through it, taking the policeman to the road. The officer reached for his nightstick, but the infected man on top of him easily overpowered his grasp and sank his teeth into his right sleeve. The officer cried out in pain and shook his arm about in an attempt to free it from the creature's clenched teeth. George looked on in horror as the creature relinquished itself from the officer's arm, just to deliver a bite to his jaw. George closed the door and realized he was breathing heavily. It was here. The virus had reached Gravesend.
"George! We're almost ready, dear!" Margaret's voice announced from upstairs. "Just another moment!"
"Margaret, be quiet!" George shouted, hypocrisy the last thing on his mind. Joel came from the den, obvious concern present as he looked at George.
"There are two figures coming down the back alley. I don't think they're dossers.”
"We've got trouble out front too."
Both men were silent as they tried to formulate a plan of action. Their best bet was to just drive straight out of there, but there was no telling how many zombies were in town between the house and the docks. They were still pondering the situation when Margaret and Katherine returned in long sleeved-shirts and pants. Margaret was displeased that neither man had tried to get the car running yet.
"George, if you didn't waste so much time babbling with each other you'd both have something done by now! Hmpf! Men!"
"Woman!" George spat. "Not now!"
Joel was sneaking a look through the crack of the door when Katherine tapped him on the shoulder. He didn't turn around immediately, and appeared to be trembling. George and Margaret both fell silent as Joel continued to peer out of the doorway. Joel finally brought his head around to face them, and everyone was surprised to see the fear written on his face. Sheer terror.
"What's happening out there?" she asked him. Joel shook his head and gently closed the door with the knob turned, so as to not draw attention. She started to ask him again, but he quickly put a finger to her mouth. He motioned for George's attention and pointed down the hallway. George nodded, and all four of them made their way to the garage. George reached the door and grabbed the knob when the sound of glass shattering came from the den.
"George!" Margaret cried.
"Joel!"
Joel sprang into action and took the knife Mr. Elliot offered him. As he planted his foot on the carpet in the den, his eyes met two intruders. Both were haggard looking individuals; young teens who had met their fate at the hands of the zombies. Neither looked like they had been dead long at all, but their characteristics spelled infection. One was beginning to rise from the floor as Joel stomped its head back into the carpet and planted the tip of the knife into its head. The other was quicker on its feet, and immediately advanced on Joel. He was forced to leave the weapon as the young woman grabbed his throat and went to bite him. Joel wrestled her arms away and held them out from her as he brought his right foot up. He roared as he ran his knee into her chest, sending her stumbling back into Margaret's chair in the corner of the den. As he retrieved the blade from the first body he could hear pounding coming from the front door. The house was being surrounded.
Joel quickly assaulted the creature rising from Margaret's chair and drove the knife into her face repeatedly. The old knife wasn't very durable, and the blade broke off from the handle with his last jab. Swearing, he tossed the handle aside and turned his attention to the new contenders entering the broken window behind him. The first of them, a young man in pajamas, flopped to the floor after getting through the opening. Joel grabbed Margaret's chair and raised it above his head. The undead man began to push himself up from the floor, and his shredded skin flaps from the broken glass dangled loosely from his face as he growled at Joel.
"An ugly thing, you are!"
He smashed the chair into its head and buried it under the splinters. Another had managed to slip through the window and was faster on its hands. It reached out and grabbed at Joel’s leg as he raised his foot to stomp its hand into the floor. He could feel bones breaking beneath his foot as he used his other to step on the arm of his assailant. He grabbed a broken leg of the chair with one arm while holding the head of the elderly man with the other. Yelling out, he drove the jagged end of the leg through the creature's eye and let go. He stood up and gave it a good kick inward to ensure his enemy's defeat. Three more were fighting their way in through the window, and Joel could hear a car engine echoing from the walls of the hallway. George's head appeared from around the corner, and shock took it over as he looked at the bodies on the floor.
"George, we need to go," Joel said calmly.
George was lost at the sight of the gruesome scene. He was frozen in his stance in the doorway.
"George!"
George spoke in so low a voice that Joel not heard muffled parts. "I knew these people. I knew them. They were my neighbors...my friends. They didn't deserve this. What monster-"
"George, don't look. Just go, I'll be right behind you."
"I...I can't believe this. This is the real thing. It looks so much different in person. These are...they were dead. They were dead, and something willed them to rise again, and kill. This is against God's will. The natural-"
"George," Joel said, grabbing his shoulders, "listen to me! You need to get out, now! Don't leave the women-"
"NO!!!"
It was Katherine. Her scream had come from the garage. George was reminded of his duty as a husband, and joined Joel in the race to the garage door at the end of the hallway. Joel entered first, but he wasn't prepared for what he would find. Margaret was on the concrete floor clutching her wrist, and Katherine had her back turned to her. Katherine was shaking as she dropped a pipe wrench onto the ground with a loud clang. The end of it was covered in blood. She fell to her knees and began sobbing at the sight before her. A young boy was only feet away from her. His head had been crushed in, and Joel didn't need much analysis to understand what had transpired. Katherine slowly brought her head around, and her face was riddled with guilt and tears. Joel ran to her side and wrapped his arms around her. She lost what control she had and cried into his shirt while trying to speak.
"I-I didn't want to. He was hurt, and I wanted to h-h-help. Margaret...Margaret....oh God!"
She ceased talking as Joel looked over his shoulder to see George cradling his wife in his arms. The bite on her forearm was severe. The marks where the teeth had sunk in and pulled across veins and muscle were gruesome.
"George..."
"I'm here, Margaret," George said in a soft tone, struggling to keep calm in front of his wife. "I'm here."
"George, he bit me...Timothy bit me."
"I know, dear, I know," George said, staring at her wound.
"George?" she uttered.
"Margaret?"
"I don't want to become one of them. If I'm going to die, I just want to see my son again."
"You will, dear, you will."
Joel was rubbing Katherine's back as she cried, but he didn't know what to tell her. She wasn't a killer; she was traumatized. From what he had gathered from George, she had killed yesterday, but only because she overcame herself to protect both herself and him. This was different. She had time to think, and thinking can tear a person apart. God, how much dwelling had she done on yesterday already?
George was disheartened, but he knew what he had to do. "Joel."
"Yes?"
"Take the car. Take the car, take Katherine, and get away from here. Go north, get to the docks, find my boat, and get as far away from this
Hell as you can."
"What about-"
"I'm not leaving. I said those monsters wouldn't make me leave, and I meant it."
"George-"
"I don't want to hear another word. I'll see about drawing attention away from everything else. Just go."
Joel hesitated, but understood. He gave Katherine a gentle shake. "Katherine?"
She didn't acknowledge him. There was no time to waste, so he helped her into the car and walked around to get to the driver's side door. As he opened it, he turned back to George. "Mr. Elliot?"
George looked up from his wife's wound. Joel could see the hopelessness present in his eyes. It was beyond every pain imaginable knowing there was nothing he could do to help the man who wanted nothing more than to save his wife.
"Thank you for everything.” It was all he could say.
George nodded and lifted his wife from the concrete floor. Joel sat down in the driver’s seat and closed the car door, looking over at Katherine. She was staring through the windshield with a blank expression, torn from herself. In the rear-view mirror, he could see George taking his wife into the house. Joel put the car in gear and prepared himself for the next part. Everything from this garage to the docks was uncertain, and he could only hope and pray that fate was on their side as he stomped on the accelerator. Unfortunately, he was a man of little faith.
The dying officer on the street barely avoided the wheels of the car as Joel thundered down the road. He only knew that the docks were north of the house, and that was where he was headed. Anything in the way was an obstacle, and the fact that he thought like that should have worried him, but he didn't have much time to concern himself with that with an emotionally broken woman next to him, bodies of the undead everywhere, and, of course, an explosion brightening up the rear-view mirror. That one demanded the most attention.
The bottom floor of the Elliot's home was now a fireball in the mirror. Joel found it incredibly hard to look away from the frightening spectacle. The flames seemed to roll out in a ball before dispersing into a cloud of black smoke. Joel wondered just what George had done, and looked ahead in time to swerve and avoid a woman that had come running out of her apartment with a zombie close behind. As he corrected the car back into the center of the road, he actually felt regret that he didn't make an effort to crush the undead body underneath and give the woman a better chance. It was far too late for that. Katherine was still unresponsive as Joel took to steering around fleeing pedestrians and abandoned cars. Every now and then the headlights would illuminate another creature or more feeding on the fallen innocent. Joel didn't pay them any mind. He had only one goal in mind.
