“Promise me, you’ll get Lana and Lenny out of here,” Walt whispers, laying down his gun and kicking it under one of the tables.
“What are you doing?” I growl at him, but he walks straight ahead to the front of the church. He approaches Felix like he means to hug him but at the last second shoves him into the cross. The undead known as Phillip breaks an arm free of the chains, grabbing Felix and sinking his teeth into his throat. A garbled sound leaves Felix’s mouth as blood splatters on Lana’s wedding dress. Everything happens at once. One of the guards shoots Walt but the bullet only grazes his arm. Phillips continues to feed on Felix, ripping his skin apart with his teeth. Chaos erupts. Everyone inside the church runs in different directions. A table full of candles is knocked over and a fire breaks out. I take out two of the guards. Walt has his daughter, but I don’t see Prissy. I move toward the fire instead of away from it searching for her as the flames spread up one side of the old building. Magon is sobbing hysterically on the floor near the gruesome scene. I spot Prissy and realize her predicament. She is manacled at the ankle to the fucking cross and the zombie chewing on his brother’s ear. He pauses midchew to appraise me. His teeth are blackened with rot and decay as he bares them at me.
I shoot it, I refuse to call it a person, between the eyes. “I give you peace.” I find a set of keys in Felix’s pocket. The flames are getting close and smoke is thick in the air. Prissy is coughing and my throat is burning. Just as I free her from the ankle cuff a large beam from the ceiling collapses landing on Magon. The bitch cries out as flames lick up the side of her face and spread down her body.
There is nothing I can do for her. Not that I want to help her. She deserves her fate. I throw Prissy over my shoulder and navigate through the burning church as it burns like a beacon.
The front gate has been opened all hell has broken loose. A sign that reads: Hell is real, falls from the side of the church. A man runs from the burning building scratching at his eyeballs and his charred flesh. I go to shoot him, but he looks dead at me and then sprints out the front gate.
Indeed, hell is real.
I gotta get us out of here. We are no longer safe here, if we ever were.
Chapter 10
—Priscilla
Asher places me in the back of a truck and I hear him smack the side and yell, “Go.”
I stare at what’s left of Salvation as the church burns and zombies descend upon the people who remain. Piercing screams fill the air as they battle the undead. There is nothing we can do for them now. The truck flies through the back gate and turns right, coming to a stop at the alleyway where Ash left his bike a few days ago. He jumps out of the truck, telling me to stay put as he takes a gas canister with him. As he is filling his gas tank an undead bastard attacks him from the side. Asher however pulls a machete I didn’t notice him having strapped to his back out and swings three times until he cuts the head partially off. Walt jumps out of the truck and keeps watch, protecting Asher the best he can but I can tell his arm is hurting him.
After he gets the tank filled, he talks to Walt’s kids. I don’t think the old man is doing too good with his gunshot wound in his arm, but we can’t do anything for him out here in the open. Walt tells us of a farmhouse not too far off that should be safe enough for the night. I get out of the back of the truck and climb on the back of Asher’s motorcycle never happier to be riding with him. We follow behind the truck because they know where we are going, and we don’t. Most of the zombies in the area are being attracted to Salvation by the fire so our drive is uneventful, thankfully.
The air is cold, and I can feel Asher shivering. He’s not wearing a shirt. He’s going to get sick and that is one thing we can’t afford. I won’t lose him.
We arrive at the farmhouse and Lana along with myself do a quick check of the house to make sure there are no uninvited guests and check for any medical supplies that will aid us in tending to Walt’s gunshot. The house is secure. Lana happily changes out of that weeding gown and into a sweatshirt and leggings. Walt had an escape pack prepped for both of his kids. Lenny and Asher bring in our other supplies while Lana tends to her father. I take a deep breath as the events of the night finally hit me. I collapse into an armchair, remembering being chained to that monster, and just knowing it was going to kill me. I thought I would never see Asher again, not alive at any rate, but he came through. Walt came through for all of us too. I know he risked his life for his children, but I still recognize and appreciate what he did for Asher and me too. He needed us, but we needed him too.
I can tell the older man is in a great deal of pain as his daughter attempts to stitch him up. I bring out the bottle of whisky, needing a shot myself as flashes of images of that zombie snapping his teeth at me filter through my thoughts. Walt smiles when I reach him the bottle. He takes a hearty swig and lets out a cough. Asher massages my shoulders and whispers in my ear that he’s ready to find our bed for the night. It’s cold and drafty in this old house as the wind howls outside. However tonight there won’t be a fire in fear of attracting unwanted attention. Some residents of Salvation could have survived, and we don’t know that they would be friendly if we crossed paths. They probably blame us for the downfall of their civilization, and they’d be right, but we had to put a stop to Felix’s practices. We have enough supplies that our group of five should be able to comfortably survive for a week give or take a day.
There are six bedrooms. Four upstairs and two downstairs. Walt doesn’t want to move from his spot on the sofa. Lenny and Lana take the two downstairs bedrooms, allowing them to stay close to their father, leaving the upstairs to Ash and me. We take the bedroom with the largest bed. It appears to have belonged to a teenage girl. The moonlight shining through the window provides enough light that I can make out cheerleading trophies on the bookcase. I used to feel sad whenever we’d break into a new house for the night and see the remnants of the people who once were. I’d wonder where they had gone and what fate awaited them, but now it doesn’t even faze me. Not much does anymore and that scares me. I’m afraid I am losing my humanity and becoming emotionless to what’s left of us.
It’s too cold to get undressed or bother with trying to change into something more comfortable. I crawl under the stale covers and my man spoons me from behind, providing me with the warmth of his body heat. “You know I could warm you a lot faster if we were naked.” He nuzzles my neck, but we are both too mentally and physically exhausted for romance.
——
The next morning, we ration out the food. Luckily there is a gas stove in the kitchen, and I was able to make us oatmeal. Lana found some cinnamon and sugar in the pantry that we were able to sprinkle in to give the slop some flavor. The house has well water that isn’t fit to drink due to the sulfur, but we can use it to wash up with at least. It doesn’t compare to the hot shower at Salvation, but it gets me clean. I watch Walt as he struggles to lift his spoon to his lips. He’s getting worse instead of better. I don’t understand. We cleaned his wound and dressed it properly. Even found some old antibiotics in a medicine cabinet in the upstairs bathroom. If anything, they aided in his decline. I can’t help but wonder if there is a connection to certain drugs and the virus that is infecting everyone. There is still so much we don’t know about this disease or whatever it is that transforms people into zombies just lie I have read about in comic books and watched on television shows and in movies. Only the real thing is nothing like what Hollywood portrayed. They are much scarier in real life.
I can’t help but fear for Lenny and Lana, Walt’s children. What’s to become of them when they lose their father. It is no longer a matter of if but when. I keep telling myself that he will get better, but I know deep down it is a lie. I just don’t want his children to lose faith yet. They need something to believe in. We all do.
Walt is back on the couch and sleeping thanks to another dose of painkillers and a few more swigs of whiskey. His kids are playing a card game. My man is keeping watch and sett
ing up traps for trespassers. Dead or alive. We can’t risk an attack. Not with Walt in this condition.
Asher returns from his patrol of the outer perimeter of the house. We have weapons at the ready at every door and window just in case something or someone slips through our safeguards. I can tell with the way he is looking at me my man has one thing on his mind, and it isn’t lunch.
I take his offered hand and follow him upstairs to our bed for the next few days. Neither of speak about Walt’s declining health. We both know that soon the time will come to make a choice. I know it is eating at Asher. He now considers the older man an ally and a friend. One of the first real ones we have made since we set out on our journey home.
—Asher
We are on day three of being at the farmhouse. I’m itching to get back on the road, but Walt is in no shape to travel. His arm is infected, and he has developed a high fever. He’s going to turn soon. His kids don’t want to accept the truth. The old man knows that death is coming for him. I can see the resignation on his face when he tells me to take his boy and his girl with us to Paradise.
“You need to take them away from here. I don’t want them to watch me turn into one of those undead bastards.” He squeezes my hand with his good one. “Promise me.” He grimaces and coughs from the exhaustion of speaking. His eyes are changing color. Something I have never noticed in someone going through the change before, but I guess I haven’t ever taken the time to spot the tiny detail until now.
I give him my word, but I won’t leave him here to die alone. To turn into one of the undead and wander the earth in search of flesh. That’s no way to live—to exist. “We need to get back on the road soon.” I tell Prissy to be ready to travel. We’ve stayed here long enough. She is tasked with packing up any supplies we may need and loading them into the back of the truck. I found a trailer to hitch to the truck for my motorcycle. It’s too damn cold and dangerous to continue forward on two wheels. It’s going to snow soon. I can feel it in the air. The cold is moving in fast. If we don’t leave from here soon, travelling will become harder. There’s some out buildings and a barn located a good way from the house. I bring Lenny along with me to help me look for gas and anything else we might find useful. He takes the two smaller buildings and I make the long walk to the barn.
When I get to the barn there is a scratching sound. Sounds like an animal and I almost don’t want to open the door. Prissy and me have encountered infected animals and it isn’t a pretty sight and those that have survived are hunted for their meat or starving to death with no one left to look after them. I have my gun ready to take down a rabid cow or horse, only when I open the door there’s a sheep dog, wasting away. He’s scratched at the barn door so much and tried to dig his way out that his poor paws are bloody. The animal hesitates when he sees me, and I wonder how he ended up locked away in the barn. But perhaps his owner thought to come back for him but never had the chance. He is in desperate need of food and water. I don’t know if he will make it much longer, but I know Prissy would have my ass if I don’t attempt to help the poor creature. I find an old horse blanket and wrap it around him before picking him up. He whimpers as I lift him up off the ground but senses I mean no harm. I rub a hand over his dark fur, scratching behind his ears. “That’s a good boy,” I tell him in the most soothing tone I can muster.
I carry him to the house so Lana or Prissy can tend to him while I go back in search of supplies.
Priscilla is putting a crate of canned food that hasn’t spoiled into the back of the truck when I walk up with the dog. “Oh my God, is he?”
“Nope. Just in need of some food, water, and a lot of love.” Her eyes are wide with excitement.
She takes him from me, putting him in the kitchen with a bowl of water and an old can of soup. It’s the best she could do for now. “Who’s a good boy?” She scratches him behind the ears, cooing at him in baby talk. It does me some good to see some happiness lighting up behind her eyes. I know Walt’s condition is affecting her even though she tries to hide her emotions. She’s been nursing him around the clock trading shifts with Lana.
Walt appears to be sleeping as Lana sits by the fireplace reading. We haven’t seen an undead since we arrived. I kiss Priscilla and tell her to keep up the good work. I want to be on the road as soon as possible. I scan the property line looking for Lenny. I didn’t see him when I was bringing the dog up to the house either. The barn had nothing of use outside of rusting farm equipment. Hopefully he had better luck in one of the buildings. Outside of the first building is a pile of simple things: a kerosene lamp, rope, and some packs of seeds. I peer inside the door and call out his name but there is no sign or sound of him. I find him in the second building fending off a zombie with a pitchfork. “Help me!” He cries. I circle around them, trying to find an angle to jump into the fight without hurting Lenny or getting him killed.
Guess we know what happened to the farmer. His skin is peeling from his face and he’s a shade of pale grey. He’s big, fat, and slow, but close to overpowering the boy. I go to shoot the fat bastard, hitting him in the gut by mistake and when I do his fucking stomach explodes. His innards spray everywhere but mainly hitting poor Lenny in the face. The boy starts retching automatically.
Even with his stomach blown out the farmer goes for the attack, but I grab the pitchfork Lenny dropped and stab him up under his chin. The dead bastard must be who locked the dog in the barn. I don’t know what happened to the rest of his family and I’m not sticking around to find out.
The foulest smell on earth clings to the boy. He smells of death and shit as we walk back to the house. “You okay?”
“I’m alive, aren’t I?” He shoots me a weak grin.
“Yeah, kid. You are.” I shake my head and try not to breathe in the rank odor that accompanies him.
Chapter 11
—Priscilla
Poor Lenny has bathed and scrubbed four times and he still smells. Ash told me what happened and though it sounds hilarious I feel bad for him. None of us can bear to be near him. I am afraid he will have to ride in the back of the truck if the terrible odor doesn’t dissipate soon. Lana is nursing her father, attempting to get his fever down, but all efforts are futile. The sores have started to form on his hands, and they are oozing with puss. He’s becoming delirious from the fever. Talking to his dead wife as though she is sitting next to him but perhaps her spirit is here to guide him to the hereafter. Death is calling and nothing we do can stop it.
“Daddy. Can you hear me?”
He doesn’t reply at first but then I make out his final four words. “Kill me and go.”
“No, Daddy.” She sobs on his chest as his body begins to convulse. Foam leaks from the corners of his mouth. The scene breaks my heart. Losing a parent isn’t easy. I know when my Mom died there was nothing anyone could do or say to make me feel any better. She wasn’t the best person, but I still loved her all the same. Drugs and the hold her addiction had on her took her from me when I was in middle school. There are times when I would give just about anything to see her smile one more time or hear her voice. My last vision of her is her in her casket. She looked nothing like the mother I remembered. She had once been curvaceous, tan, and so full of life but lying there she was frail, pale, and stiff.
Asher pulls out his Desert Eagle prepared to do what needs to be done, what we should have done already, but our emotional attachment has prevented us from taking this man from his children till the very bitter end. Lenny stands and crosses the room. “I’ll do it.” My man doesn’t put up a fight. He hands the weapon over to the boy who is sixteen but looks twelve to me. This intense moment reminds me of the time Hopper took Ash and me to the shooting range. He was ten and I was eight. His old man said, “Today you become a man.” I can hear his gritty voice so clearly in my head. I miss him but I am thankful he isn’t around to see what the world has become. To watch the scene in front of Asher and me. A son having to give his father peace.
Lenny’s
finger curls around the trigger as he drops to his knees next to the man who gave him life. “I love you, Dad. I’m sorry.” The boy looks back at his sister. This isn’t right. Walt deserves better. They all do. “I don’t think I can do this.” Tears stream down his freckled face. We all stay silent as this is between him and the man who gave him life. Finding his resolve, Lenny’s about to shoot his father in the temple when his eyes pop open glossed over with a yellow film. We are all in shock, wondering if we were wrong. Wondering if Walt is trying to make a recovery. Before any of us realize what is happening though Walt sits up and grabs his child around the throat, choking the life out of him before biting the space where his neck and shoulder meet. Lenny’s eyes are wide with shock then acceptance. Death has come for them both. Father and son.
Lana screams and the dog Ash found begins to howl. I grab the gun the boy dropped, shooting Walt between the eyes then his son. “I give you both peace.” I wipe a tear from my cheek. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The five of us were a group. We were going to make it to Paradise together.
“Let’s move. We can’t stay any longer,” Ash announces. Lana continues to sob hysterically. She’s lost her entire family. The girl has lost all she had.
“She needs a moment to compose herself,” I tell him. I know he is eager to leave. I am too, but the girl has been through so much. First her mother, then her sister, and now her father and brother are gone. She doesn’t have anyone but us.
Asher gives me a curt nod of his head wearing a grim expression. “I’ll be outside.”
Dark Paradise: The Apocalypse (Sons of Destruction MC Book 1) Page 5