"No. The primitives—the demons—are Satan's minions, set to roam the earth for one thousand years. We were supposed to be physically snatched up and taken to heaven. Believers in Jesus. Born-Again Christians. The unsaved were supposed to be left here on earth."
"So in her mind, God had abandoned her," Lori said.
"No, she didn't feel God abandoned her. She just didn't understand why He was allowing it to happen this way. She was confused. She started...retreating from reality more. Reading the Bible and the Jenkins and LaHaye books she's got, trying to find meaning so she could understand everything. And then...I guess that went on for maybe five days. She just retreated emotionally, wouldn't talk about normal things with me. I'd try to ask her what she felt about fortifying the house for winter and she said she didn't care about that, she wanted to know whether she'd gotten wrong with God or wanted to know why she didn't understand His word. And then..." His voice threatened to crack again. "Then it happened."
Alex took a deep breath, his eyes closed as if he were mustering the nerve to relive his nightmare again, then continued. "We were in the kitchen. I was taking stock of my ammunition, was getting my gear ready to go hunting. I'd seen some deer near the house the past few days, and there were no rangers around to enforce hunting season. We needed meat, so I figured I might as well try to get us some. Anyway, I wanted her help in bringing some stuff outside. She kept telling me that the demons were gathering. She said she could see them in her mind. They were all gathering in one place, getting ready for something and—"
"She said they were gathering?" Wesley asked. I leaned forward in anticipation at this too. Martin and I traded a look. This sounded like what Stuart told us last night. "They were gathering in a herd, or a community or something?"
"I don't know," Alex said, shaking his head in frustration. "I wasn't paying attention. To me, she was going off the deep end. She was losing her mind and I was becoming a little bit afraid of her."
Alex paused for a moment to take a sip of water and resumed. "I was...I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. I hadn't been for a few days. It was the same old thing about the demons. When she started making the noise...when she started growling...that's what snapped me out of it. I turned to her and she was standing at the stove, her head kinda bowed down. She was making these weird noises, like animal grunts. I thought she was sick at first and was starting to step toward her to see if she was okay when she suddenly turned around and...I saw her face...and I saw that she was...it wasn't Naomi anymore..."
Remembering Jessica Rendell's voice in my ear that day telling us that Eric, our son, had attacked and killed another child that morning in day care came to mind. I could only imagine the horror Alex had gone through.
"She...she came at me...she attacked me," Alex continued, his voice cracking. "And I fought her off. She was like a wild thing, kicking and biting and scratching at me. I was yelling at her to stop but she was growling and spitting at me and...I knew it wasn't Naomi anymore, but I was yelling at her to stop, hoping in the back of my mind I'd get through to her, but it wasn't working. I knew she was going to kill me, and I managed to push her back and grab a skillet off the kitchen counter. As she came at me again I hit her over the head with it and knocked her out.
"Something...I don't know if it's instinct or what...told me to lock her in the mudroom, so I did. I dragged her in there and locked her in. When she woke up she...she was still wild. She started hammering on the walls and throwing herself against the door like a caged animal. She's been in there ever since." He looked at us. No longer crying, Alex still bore a look of sadness on his face. "I've been feeding her through a small window from outside. Every time I throw food in she reaches out and tries to grab my arm to pull me in. I know if I set foot inside there she'll try to kill me. She...she just paces the mudroom all day like an animal and at night...oh God, at night she howls like a fucking dog. Sometimes she sleeps, but mostly she howls. It's...unearthly. It's like she's baying to...something...maybe her own kind...to come rescue her."
A collective shudder ran through the rest of us. I felt Tracy's hand firm on my shoulder and I pulled Emily close to my side. Had we been sitting home as a family watching a horror movie about this, Emily would have hid her eyes, but for some strange reason she was riding this out. She was totally absorbed; fearful, but absorbed.
"I just...after awhile, I just didn't know what else to do." He looked at each of us with an imploring gaze. "That's why I left...to find some help for her. To see if maybe there was a cure out there...if somebody...if there's some order left in the world..."
His eyes lit on each one of us and I felt a shadow darken us all. Last evening's conversation with Stuart came to mind. The poor bastard had no idea how bad things had gotten.
"Please..." he said. His eyes met mine, held them. "Please help me."
I tore my gaze away from him, looked at Martin, then at Wesley. Tracy stiffened beside me.
Wesley drew a little closer to Alex. "Alex, I want you to listen to me very carefully."
And then Wesley told Alex what he needed to know.
The shadow that afternoon grew darker.
Sixteen
Alex took the news better than I thought he would.
It took Wesley fifteen minutes to tell him an abbreviated version of our story and last night's events in the radio room. He concluded with today's events, telling Alex that Martin and I were returning from a trip to the library when he'd come across the property. "I have a rendezvous on the air with Stuart today at four," he said. He patted Alex's shoulder. "I'm sorry the news isn't good, Alex. I truly am."
Alex sighed. He seemed resigned to this sad fact now. "To tell you the truth, something in the back of my mind told me that this is it. That we're finished as a race." He looked at us. "But that thing you described? That this guy Stuart says he saw? Hearing you talk about it made me think of what Naomi was telling me in the days before she turned."
"And what's that?" Martin asked.
"When she was talking about the demons gathering... that the primitives were gathering together, I chalked it up to her...her religious mania, I guess. But still, something in the back of my mind couldn't help but think 'what if it's true?' What if the primitives were gathering with the help of some force? Doesn't that sound crazy?"
"No, it doesn't," I said. Had he felt the same force we all had? "I've thought the same thing."
"I can't just...leave her there," Alex said. "Do you understand? Even if she's...an animal now...I can't just leave her in there to starve!"
Wesley traded a glance with me and I read the intention loud and clear in his eyes. We've got to go out there and kill her.
As much as part of me agreed with that sentiment, I couldn't let on to Alex that this was the game plan.
"I agree we have to do something," Martin said. Whether he'd picked up on the side-glances exchanged between Wesley and me was hard to tell, but the guy seemed to zero in on our subliminal communication. "She'll be okay out there by herself tonight. That should give us time to try to come up with some kind of plan."
"What kind of plan?" Alex said.
"A way to help her," Martin said quickly.
"How?"
"We'll think of something," Wesley said. "But Martin's right. We can't just rush over there now without thinking this through. If we open the door to that mudroom, she'll just be on attack mode. We're going to need some kind of way to subdue her so she doesn't hurt herself or us."
I could see how this could turn into a full-fledged debate that would go on for hours. I glanced at my watch. It was almost four. "Tell you what," I said. "Wesley, why don't you get on the radio with Stuart and let him know what's going on. See what else you can find out. Lori and Tracy can help Alex get some rest. He needs it. Martin and I will come up with a way to help Naomi. Besides, I've got some research to do from our library trip. I might learn something that might help."
"That's a good plan." Wesley rose to his feet. He
nodded at me; he understood what I was getting at perfectly. We'd reconvene in private to compare notes later, out of Alex's earshot. "How about we meet-up at dinner?"
And with that we broke up the current discussion. Tracy and Lori led Alex to the living room and made the sofa comfy for him to lie down on. Wesley headed off to the radio room to make his appointment with Stuart. I ushered Emily inside the house and calmed her down; she was starting to cry, and under normal circumstances I would not have allowed her to listen to Alex's story. But these were different times. "Mommy and I aren't going to let anything happen to you," I told her at one point. I was kneeling in front of her, at her eye level, and managed to calm her frayed nerves. "Do you understand? You're safe with us."
Once I'd gotten her calmed down, she hugged me. "I'm going to go play with my dollies," she said.
"Okay."
I watched her gather her toys from the living room floor and head upstairs. I knew she was retreating emotionally, was going to immerse herself in play to forget about the traumatic story she'd just heard. I wished I could go with her to help alleviate those fears and play with her, but I couldn't. Not then. I had to start cracking those books to find some clues on the primitives and their strange god.
Opposite the radio room, on the other side of the house, was a room that had once served as the former owner's home office. It was lined with cherrywood bookshelves and office furniture. A large desk took up a portion of the wall with a computer, laser printer, and telephone. I don't think anybody had bothered to turn the computer on since we'd settled here. I brought the books I'd gathered at the library into this room and sat down, ready to begin my research, when Tracy walked in.
She closed the door and I saw she looked troubled. "Is Emily okay?" she asked. "Where is she?"
"Upstairs in our room. She's fine." I gave her a brief recap of my attempt to calm Emily's fears and Tracy nodded. Somehow, I had the impression that her troubled state was not for our daughter, but for our new visitor.
"I'll see how she is in a minute," Tracy said. She looked at me, touched my forearm lightly. "I have to talk to you about Alex."
"Okay," I said, curious.
"Keep your voice low," she whispered.
I nodded.
"I know that we're going to have to kill Naomi," she said. Her voice cracked when she voiced what had been in my mind the moment we heard that Alex's wife had turned primitive. Her eyes welled with tears. "And...I just want to...tell you that...when you do it, try to do it when Alex is...asleep or something. Do it when he's here at the house and asleep and..."
"I understand," I said. I drew Tracy into my embrace and she melted against me. She buried her face in my T-shirt, stifling her sobs. I held back my own emotion as I held her.
"He doesn't have to see it happen," Tracy said. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath. "He doesn't even have to know." She looked up at me, still troubled but in better control. "I know it's the only way. She'll starve to death in her house and...we can't release her. She's a danger to all of us. The longer she stays alive, the more she puts us in danger."
Tracy was right. Who knows if Naomi's howling was some primitive form of communication? Suppose other primitives heard her and were even now heading toward Manning like a mass of cavemen, drawn by her siren song?
Suppose she was able to draw the God of the New World to our location?
"You're right, he doesn't need to see it," I said. "If we can get him to sleep, maybe Wesley and I can head over there this afternoon. We can do it quickly, remove the body and bury it somewhere, clean the room up, make it look like she broke out somehow."
"Yes." Tracy looked better now. She still looked sad and troubled by what we'd just heard. No doubt she was disturbed by the very idea of killing another human being in order to put her out of her misery. "I know it sounds cruel but...it's the only way. He broke down again as Lori and I led him to the living room. I can tell he loves Naomi dearly and...I just don't want him to have to see it."
"Of course." I kissed Tracy's forehead. "Listen, do we have any tranquilizers?"
"Yeah. I can crush a dose up and put it in some iced tea."
"Good. Slip it to him now. I think the sooner we can do this, the better."
"Okay." Now it was her turn to kiss me. She hugged me again and I held her. "I wish this wasn't happening," she said.
"So do I, honey," I said. "So do I."
* * *
As it turned out, I didn't crack the books that day. Instead, immediately after Tracy left, I headed to the radio room where I heard the tail end of Stuart telling Wesley about some brewing trouble.
"It sounds like a pretty good-sized party," I heard Stuart say as I walked into the room. "If I'm correct in my interpretation, it sounds like they've destroyed a good portion of Nashville."
Curious, I raised my eyebrows at Wesley. What's going on?
"David Spires just joined us," Wesley said. He motioned for me to close the door. I did. Then, Wesley turned around and told me the latest.
Early this morning, Stuart heard a transmission from another party of normal humans. It was a large one of about two hundred. And it was our worst nightmare realized.
"They're run by five or six guys who broke out of a state prison," Wesley told me. "And they're on this marauding spree, just gathering people under them, growing bigger and bigger as they head west. One of them sounds like he knows what he's doing. I don't know if he's an ex-general or whatever, but he seems to know how to hold these people together."
Stuart helped Wesley fill me in. "They've commandeered a bunch of luxury RVs, and they've got weapons out the wazoo. It sounds like they've organized teams. One team is in charge of procuring and preparing food, another is in charge of the maintenance of the vehicles, another in charge of administering healthcare. The largest group is what I'm calling the warmongers. They're like...crackpot generals, totally absorbed in moving from city to city and capturing as many people as possible."
"Capturing people?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, capturing people," Stuart said. "They're killing primitives wherever they encounter them, but when they come across normal people, they capture them. If they meet resistance from men, they're killed. The women are captured, then raped repeatedly and forced into prostitution to serve the guys that join up. They've got a traveling bordello. And the kids...they're used as slave labor."
"Shit," I muttered.
"I just happened to stumble across their broadcast," Stuart continued. "They're broadcasting on an open transmission. I don't know why, because I would think that anybody left that's technically savvy and has the right equipment like me could stumble on to what they're saying."
"Maybe they aren't very smart," Wesley said.
"Yeah, maybe. Anyway, what I've learned from listening to them is that it sounds like the original core group banded together in the days following the...you know...the turning or whatever...they banded together to fight the primitives. But eventually as the weeks went on and they drew more people they...well, I think they just went mad."
"Mob psychosis," I muttered. "Use the right buzzwords under the right condition, you can whip a crowd of normally peaceful, law abiding citizens into a violent mob."
"Exactly," Stuart said. "Anyway, they're near Memphis now and it sounds like they're continuing west along Interstate 40. There's a group of about twenty of them about five miles ahead clearing the roads. And they're also reaching out to other bands of people through their CB broadcasts. That's how I initially heard it."
"So they're drawing people to them and when those who answer meet up with them, they're pretty much taken by surprise," Wesley mused.
"Yeah, that's what it sounds like." Stuart sighed. "They're in contact now with one group of people in Mississippi. They're actually camped out near Memphis waiting for this other band of people to meet up with them. These Mississippians, they're broadcasting on an open network too, and if I reach out to them, this other group will hear me."
"But they can't tell where you're broadcasting from, right?" I asked.
"No, but who knows what kind of equipment these people have? They might have sensors, receivers that transmit my station's call letters. Some receivers transmit call letters and geographic locations. I can't chance it, as much as I want to." Stuart's voice trailed off. There was silence for a moment. When he came back on he sounded troubled. "This group of people they contacted...there's three women, five men, and two very young children."
I picked up on the implications immediately. So did Wesley.
"Wesley told me about your situation with Alex," Stuart said, changing the subject effortlessly. "And my suggestion to you is to do it right away. And do it quick."
Wesley and I traded a glance. I nodded. Yes, we were on the same wavelength, all right. But what a hell of a situation to be in.
"I agree," I said, lowering my voice. "And things are underway as we speak."
"Good." Stuart paused again, then said, "Godspeed. Over and out."
"Over," Wesley said, and signed off.
We sat in the radio room for a moment collecting our thoughts. I finally broke the silence. "Tracy's going to make sure he goes to sleep. We should leave in about thirty minutes. I don't want to have to do this after night falls."
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