Untaken

by Yul Calsto

  There was another rumble from the earth and the glasses in the cupboard made a small tinkling sound.

  Jake turned from the window, “We’re going to St. Patricks, across town.”

  “Can we travel safely with the children?”

  “We’ll have to. We can’t leave you here.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  The knock startled everyone awake. Bill jumped to his feet in a split-second, his sword in his hands. The children were scared and their frightened screams were held back by Emily’s touch as she cradled them close to her.

  Jake went out of the kitchen to the living room. He found the priest was already on his feet, his revolver held steady in front of him, pointed at the door.

  There was another knock, and a voice on the other side began to call out to them, “Let me in. I know you’re in there. Please, let me in.”

  They were frozen in their places. Nobody moved except Thomas, who went quickly to the door and peered through the peephole.

  “Dad, wait.”

  “It’s a person, Jake.”

  He opened the door, and a young man, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, was at the door. He looked like he had been able to stay away from the Marked so far. He was free of scratches and blood, and his clothes were all in one piece.

  “Come in, quick,” Thomas invited the boy in.

  “I’m ok. I’m fine, I’m one of you.”

  The group looked at the boy. He looked a bit pale, but otherwise he looked untouched. He was jittery and random. He made a lot of hand gestures when he spoke, and he would look around the room at each of them, but nervously avoided eye contact.

  “Where did you come from? Do you live around here?”

  “No, I – yeah, I live here. Well, down the road.”

  “We’re you followed?” Jake asked. He moved to the front window and looked out. He could see the street under the dull, gray sky.

  “No, it’s just me. I’m alone.”

  “You didn’t see anybody following you?” Jake asked again.

  Thomas, showing more concern for the boy than his son was, interrupted Jake’s questioning, “Come into the kitchen. We have food here. Are you hungry?”

  The boy’s voice was suddenly rough, and vibrated through his esophagus, “Yes.”

  At the sound of the boy’s voice, Jake and Thomas exchanged a startled look, but they disregarded it when the boy continued to speak in a normal cadence and pitch.

  “I am. I am hungry. I’m starving.”

  They went to the kitchen and, in the dull light, Thomas pulled out the fixings for scrambled eggs and bacon. “What’s your name, son?”

  “I’m alright. My name is Buggy. That’s what I like to be called.” He was twitchy. He was skinny and tall, looking almost like an addict the way he trembled and jerked about. His words gave him the air of a small boy.

  The priest was quick to welcome the boy. “Well, Buggy, you came to the right place. You’re safe here for now, but I believe after breakfast we’ll be getting moving.”

  Jake had gone back to the front window. Buggy had made too much noise out at the door for him to be comfortable. Yet, he saw no Marked approaching.

  Oscar growled low from the living room and kept his distance from the lanky young man. Jake hushed the dog and asked the boy, “Have you seen any of the demons out there?”

  Buggy looked to Jake and danced his eyes around, “Yeah, I’ve seen a ton. I hid from them.”

  “Did you see any when you were coming over here?”

  “No. I was quiet, I didn’t see any.”

  Thomas piled up the fixings on the stove and turned to everyone in the room, “Who else is hungry?”

  The rumble of dark clouds was gone and out of sight. Small quivers that shook the ground remained, and the sky was a depressed, lifeless reminder of the evil that had passed over.

  Everyone had plates in hand, eating. The priest sat with Brooks, Jake, and Thomas in the living room. Bill was across the room at the front door, Indian-style on the floor. Emily sat with the children at the kitchen table, and Buggy was lying on his belly on the kitchen floor with his plate in front of him.

  “A week ago if you had told me this was how it was going to be…” Brooks trailed off.

  “What do you do, Brooks? I mean professionally.” Jake asked with a full mouth.

  “I was a lawyer.”

  “No kidding?” Jake was amused, “How did you get so big?”

  “I used to be a bodybuilder. Now I just keep it up as a hobby.”

  “What kind of lawyer were you?”

  “Family law and business. I wanted to make sure nobody gets screwed in a divorce or a business deal. Husbands, wives, but mostly I wanted to help the children who were the true victims in a divorce.”

  They were all charmed to see this soft side of the big man. Before Brooks had opened his mouth, Jake would have guessed that he had worked in construction, laying brick. His size was impressive, and his articulate diction was unexpected.

  “What about you boys? What did you do?” As he asked this, Brooks fed a handful of scrambled eggs to Oscar.

  Jake looked at his father who sat next to him on the couch. He put an arm around his dad’s shoulder, “Well, my dad here is a retired firefighter. Twenty-five years, right, dad?” Thomas nodded his head and shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth. “And I do user interface design for computer and software applications.”

  They looked at him blankly. “I’m a nerd,” Jake said.

  Brooks looked at the priest, “And you are my pastor. I’ve been attending your mass for almost five years.”

  “I’ve seen you in the pews every Sunday, Brooks. That’s why I picked you to come with us.”

  Jake couldn’t help but to change the subject and probe the priest’s mind. He kept his voice low for the children’s sake, “Father, why would God not take these children? That makes no sense.”

  The priest leaned back and looked thoughtfully down the bridge of his nose and through his glasses at Jake. His faith had been shaken, but he could not let the others see that. “I don’t know. I can’t explain His plans. I am merely a follower at this point.”

  “What is the religion that goes door to door all the time? Mormons?” Jake asked.

  “Jehovah’s Witness,” the priest corrected.

  “Yeah, what is it that they say? A certain number of people are saved and the rest have to stay on earth?”

  Brooks listened. Thomas put more food in his mouth. The priest answered. “They say that one hundred and forty-four people are saved and will go to heaven. The rest of us will have happiness for eternity on earth.”

  “So the one hundred forty-four could have been taken already. We could be here for eternity. This could be heaven on earth, right?”

  “Does it look like heaven out there?” the priest pointed to the dull light from the windows.

  With bellies full, they packed up their weapons and prepared to march. They were heading to the grocery store that was a block away in the neighborhood. Thomas had gathered clothing for himself and had been able to gather clothing for the three children from the home next door. In addition to that, he was able to gather a few empty backpacks that they would be able to use to carry non-perishable food from the grocery store.

  Nobody was sure what time it was. There was no way to determine the hour of the day. They couldn’t tell how long it had been since the golden sky had disappeared and the world turned dark. Jake suspected it had been nearly twenty hours, but as more time went by, his internal clock became more and more scrambled.

  Jake laid out the plan to everyone, “We’re going to be going quickly from spot to spot. Keep quiet, and keep yourself as hidden as possible. If you know that you’ve been seen, let us know. We’ll need everyone to fight back.”

  “I can be quiet,” Buggy maintained his fidgety awkwardness.

  They had extra weapons, but nobody offered their spare weapon to Buggy. Brooks had the c
rossbow, the jugs filled with holy water, and the battle axe. The priest had the flamethrower and the revolver. Jake had the shotgun and the dagger in his pocket. Even Emily carried a can of mace in addition to her sword. It wasn’t a unanimous decision to keep Buggy unarmed. They had not spoken about it. Simply put, nobody quite trusted the twitchy young man just yet, and the question of letting him hold a weapon was not explored. Buggy had not asked for a weapon either.

  Jake opened the door and peered out through the crack. Dreariness waited outside. It was like dusk on a cloudy day. Dark and gloomy, but light enough to see. Oscar poked his head through at Jake’s knees.

  “Alright everyone. We’re going to the grocery. Let’s stock up quickly when we get there.”

  They went out. Their long range visibility was hindered by the dark day, but Jake felt that was an advantage for them. He led the way. Behind him was Thomas, followed by the three small children, then Emily and Brooks. The priest and Bill sandwiched Buggy at the back. They went from home to home, staying close to the house walls and keeping as much out of sight as they could manage.

  When they reached the main road at the edge of the neighborhood they kept close to the fence line where a shadow of pine trees that lined the road helped to hide their movement.

  There were no screams. It was very quiet. The world was very different now. There were no cars driving. No machinery buzzing. The only noises were from tables being overturned or shattering glass that came intermittently from inside some of the homes as the Marked continued their search for hiding survivors. Jake imagined that the population of survivors, already weak and spread out, had been mostly found overnight by the Marked. Their group would be lucky to come across more survivors on their way to St. Patrick’s Church.

  Buggy began to breathe loudly as they went along, and sporadic, muffled yelps escaped the unusual boy. Bill, who was behind Buggy, noticed that he was looking about side to side and behind him every so often. Another yip of exclamation escaped him.

  “Boy, shut up,” Bill said behind clenched teeth.

  Buggy yipped again, but louder. They were running along the side of the road under the shroud of the trees. He yipped again, even louder than before. The priest stopped abruptly, pivoted completely around and held his arms wide open, taking Buggy down in a tackle. A moment later, Bill stood over them, and the others continued moving forward.

  “Boy, I don’t know what you have, or what is wrong with you, but you need to shut your trap,” Bill told him as the priest held him down.

  “I’m ok. I can do this. I’m just excited. I’m good. I have anxiety.”

  “Calm down, son,” the priest helped him to his feet. “Follow us and we’ll get to the grocery. You have to be quiet.”

  “I am. I’m quiet.”

  The priest and Bill gave each other a mutual look of uneasiness about moving forward with Buggy in their group. He had been with them for less than a couple of hours and already they could tell he had a hard time controlling his excitement. He was a liability to the safety of the others. They were going to have to figure out a way to deal with it. They couldn’t leave him behind. He was a survivor. He was one of them. He was no more of a burden on the group than the three small children were.

  They moved on. They caught up to the others at the edge of the last fence line of the neighborhood, hidden under the shadow of trees just before the intersection and the grocery store parking lot.

  “Is everything ok?” Jake asked the priest.

  “We’re fine. We’re ready.”

  Buggy was nervous. His eyes were darting about. He would stand from his crouch and take a step, then turn and crouch back in his place with the group. He would twist on his haunches and cross his arms, then put his hands flat against the ground before finally shoving them into his pockets.

  When Jake decided that it was safe to cross the open parking lot, they ran from their spot and moved forward to the grocery opening. It had been midnight when the golden light had come in a glorious white cloud and ceased the normalcy of the day, and there were no shoppers out. As a result, the parking lot was mostly empty. Only a few cars were in parking spots, abandoned; they were covered in the black dust that had blown in from the dark red clouds, and sprinkled with the dark ashes of lost souls that had been carried in upon the wind.

  In the silent air, their footsteps were loud and echoed across the pavement. Jake kept his eyes up and looking around for movement. His shotgun was held out in front of him. They all kept their eyes open for the Marked. Another yip from Buggy was exhaled. He continued his excited interjections, and they began to get louder and more frequent as they neared the grocery store doors. Brooks picked the boy up in one arm and held his other hand to the boy’s mouth to keep him from making noise. He ran inside with the others.

  Jake and Thomas positioned themselves at the doorway. The others went into the grocery store and crouched down behind the tables of bakery items that were positioned in the center at the opening. They looked out on the parking lot to see if they would be followed in by any of the Marked. The parking lot was still. They couldn’t hear any movement or any of the excited shrieks that they had heard previously when the Marked had detected them.

  The sky had become brighter than when they had left the house. It was still a dull, achingly lifeless sky, but it was a brighter shade of color, and it lit the opening of the grocery store and faded out into the aisles before darkness took over in the back of the store. They felt another rumble from the earth, and then everything was silent again.

  Their attention turned toward the darkness in the store, and Jake realized that he had made a terrible mistake in assuming that there were no Marked inside. For all he knew, they had unknowingly run into a nest of them.

  He strained his ears. He heard footsteps. They were running down the back aisle of the store. He moved quickly to where the others were huddled at the baked goods table. The footsteps continued, and he heard the squeak of rubber-soled sneakers against the linoleum floor. There was only one set of footsteps, it sounded alone. He heard a low snarl, as the movement scampered further away from them.

  Jake motioned to the group to be silent and stay put while he went to check out the noise. Bill ignored him and readied himself to go with him, his short sword held high. Thomas and the priest flanked the children who had burrowed under the table with Emily. Brooks crouched in front. Oscar growled and stayed near Jake.

  Buggy was gone.

  They moved down the front aisle, peeking around each end cap slowly. As they moved deeper into the store and passed more aisles, the darkness grew blacker and swallowed them up. It was dark, but their eyes had adjusted and used what light was available from the store opening. They could hear the heaving breathing getting louder as they approached the last aisle in the store. Oscar stayed close at Jake’s heels, a low grumble deep in his gut.

  The breathing became more fierce and gnashed in the darkness of the aisle corner. They moved closer, and steadied themselves behind the end cap. They could hear saliva-filled teeth grating on the other side. They were hoping they would not find Buggy in pieces, or worse, find the Marked feasting on Buggy’s still wiggling, live body.

  They peered around the corner, Jake’s shotgun held against his shoulder. He wanted to avoid having to shoot, as it might attract more of the Marked. Ideally, Bill would end this Marked with his blade, but that would risk getting in close and injury to both of them.

  As their heads came around the corner together, the breathing stopped. It was silent. They gazed into the darkness, directly at the Marked, but it was hidden in blackness and they couldn’t make out the details.

  No sounds issued from the aisle.

  “Buggy?”

  There was no answer.

  “Buggy, are you there?”

  The rubber soles squeaked on the floor and took off running down the back of the store, passing each of the aisles toward the middle. Oscar flashed his teeth in a growl and took off running after the Marked
. Jake and Bill ran parallel with the footsteps down the front of the aisles, staying in the semi-light that came in from the opening at the front. If the Marked was trying to beat them to the children, Jake was confident that the other men with them could defend themselves properly, but Jake didn’t want them to have to.

  They were in a dead sprint toward the store opening, the aisles becoming lighter as they came closer. They heard a stumble and bark, then a loud crash from the back of the store. The footsteps stopped and a yelp from Oscar filled the store. A burst of light came from the back. It was brief, and it lit up the entire store before being shut off completely with the slam of a door. The Marked had exited through a back door.

  Jake and Bill ran toward the back where the light had come from. They needed to silence the Marked before it called out for more of the demons. In the darkness at the back, they saw a small sliver of light coming in through a crack at the base of the back exit. Jake pushed through and shielded his eyes. The sky was much brighter than he had expected it would be. The dull grayness had become an acid red that emitted from an unseen source.

  The door exited into an empty blacktop. At his feet he could see a trail of blood leading to a staircase at the side of the building, and he could see the discarded, unmoving body of Oscar.

  They could hear the clanging of metal stairs and they heard a piercing shriek. Buggy was running up the staircase to the roof. He was shrieking loudly.

  “Buggy, quiet,” Jake shouted with just enough air for his words to cover the distance between he and Buggy, who hurdled a final short wall at the top of the stairs and disappeared on top of the building. Jake and Bill ran up the stairs. The shrieks continued, more strangled and aggressive than before.

  On the rooftop, Jake and Bill went sprinting toward the shrieks. There were several rooms with doors. These created a short, open hallway, and the two men could not see where the shrieks were coming from, but they followed their ears. Through the short hallway, the rooftop opened up and they could see Buggy standing at the edge. He was leaning far over and yelping out.