Revelations - 02

by T. W. Brown

  As carefully as possible, everybody climbed the stairs. The group made its way to the bedroom that Margaret stood in the doorway of, obviously recovered enough to start thinking and helping. They lay Keith down, who let out a moan in response.

  “At least he’s still with us,” Mackenzie said in a reassuring voice. “Now, Juan, get a fire going out back, we’re gonna need hot water and—”

  “We might need to cauterize the wound,” Thad spoke up.

  “Yes,” Mackenzie nodded. “I’ll need everybody to gather up any antibiotics, either here or at a nearby house. Mom,” she raised her voice and the older woman jumped, “I need those clean rags and something to clean this up with.”

  “You a nurse or doctor or somethin’?” JoJo asked.

  “Nope,” Mackenzie shook her head, “but I took a series of first aid and CPR classes when I was growing up so I could babysit. I enjoyed it, so I took a few courses when I was in college. Never know when a nasty injury will happen on the farm.”

  “Cool,” JoJo nodded. “Hey, my name is—”

  “Later,” Mackenzie cut him off. “We can do the whole introduction thing later. Right now we need to tend to your friend.”

  Everybody filtered out to take care of the tasks Mackenzie assigned, leaving her alone with the injured man.

  “Keith Thomas,” Mackenzie whispered as she wiped off the man’s forehead. “It’s been a long, long time.”

  

  “Take care of Ronni,” Donna’s voice was a harsh whisper. Her hand came up to Chad’s cheek, he tried not to flinch at the coldness.

  “You know I will,” he nodded.

  “I’ve spent my life protecting her.”

  “And so will I.”

  “No,” Donna shook her head, “you don’t understand. I did my best to keep the world from her. She doesn’t understand. I didn’t let her.”

  Chad was confused. Had she kept his reason for being in prison from her? He could tell that she was trying to tell him something specific. There was more being said than just the words.

  “Ronni is special, Chad,” Donna’s voice was growing weaker. “I didn’t let the world get to her, she won’t understand. Take her away from all of this. Don’t let the world get her.”

  She’s delirious, Chad thought sadly. He wiped the perspiration from her forehead and ran a hand down her cheek. It was so odd, the way her hands were so cold, but her face was burning up.

  He struggled to continue looking Donna in the eyes. It was difficult not to show any revulsion at the way her skin was slowly turning that pale, death-grey and sagging loose, seeming to be slowly melting off her skull. And her eyes. Laced with the darkness of death. Once, long ago, he’d loved staring into those eyes. Now, it turned his stomach. And then there was the smell. No matter how much they cleaned the wounds, or gave Donna a sponge-bath, that smell lingered.

  “Promise me,” Donna whispered. “Promise you won’t let the world get to her.”

  “I promise,” Chad said, still not understanding exactly what it was that the woman meant. “I promise, Donna.”

  A sound at his back had Chad reaching for his shotgun. “It’s me!” Brett raised his hands, his body halfway inside the tent flap. “Sorry, man. Look, I’m takin’ a group up to the creek. Ronni’ll be with us.”

  He’s been eavesdropping, Chad thought, he knows that Donna is about gone. “Thanks, Brett,” Chad said, and turned back to the woman who lay panting, her breath coming in short, rapid bursts. It would be any minute now.

  Donna gasped once suddenly and her eyes opened wide. She looked up at Chad and her features seemed to transform for just an instant. “Take care of our little girl.”

  Then, slowly, the light that remained dimmed. Chad hopped up, refusing to allow the tears building in his eyes to fall, and grabbed the end of the sleeping bag. He knew, especially from the past twenty-four hours, that he only had a moment or two. Dragging the sleeping bag out of the tent, he pulled it into the brush as far from camp as possible.

  He’d made it over a small mound and into a fern-filled little gully when he saw the eyes open. The white film coated them, making the black stand out all the more. Dropping the end of the sleeping bag, he pulled the .22 caliber pistol from behind his back.

  “I’m so sorry, Donna,” Chad continued to fight the tears, “I shoulda stayed in there with you and Ronni. Watched over you. Protected you. This is my fault…and…I’m sorry.”

  Bringing up the tiny pistol, he forced her back down with a booted foot as she began to try sitting upright. Donna’s mouth opened and let loose a low moan that seemed unnatural and different from what he remembered her voice sounding like even moments ago when she was on the verge of death. No, Chad told himself, that wasn’t Donna.

  Not anymore.

  He pressed the barrel of the gun against her forehead and pulled the trigger. A muffled ‘pop’ sounded, seeming loud in his ears. The body stopped squirming. With his free hand, he closed the lifeless eyes for the last time.

  It was done.

  

  Lawrence Tynes walked back inside and shut the door, only partially muffling the moans, howls, and cries of the undead below. It didn’t seem possible, but there were more today than yesterday.

  Nope, he thought as he sat down at the small desk that now served as his breakfast table, they ain’t showin’ no signs of leavin’. They knew he was up here. Not for the first time, he cursed Steve Hobart and all those who’d left him. Somehow, they’d tricked him into staying with Cindy and the others. And to add insult to injury, they’d taken all the supplies and both vehicles.

  He picked up the large, plastic water jug and shook it. He could hear liquid sloshing around. It was at least half full. If it would only rain, then the three pans he’d placed on the roof of the fire-watch tower would replenish his supplies.

  He could do it. He could survive this. Hell, he’d survived two tours in Vietnam and three wives. He could damn sure survive this!

  “I will!” He yelled. “I will survive this!” He turned to Cindy Minor, a fierce look on his face. “You wait and see…this is just a setback. I can last this out. All I need is a little rain.” He began to weep, but just as quickly as it began, he brushed it away.

  Rain. That’s all he needed. Those abominations down below…zombies…or whatever folks had taken to calling them… they didn’t realize who they were messing with. He was Lawrence-goddamn-Tynes. He’d survived the Hanoi-fucking-Hilton. This was paradise by comparison. If those things below thought they could break him, then they pure-dee did not know who they were messin’ with. No siree, Bob!

  Glaring outside, he saw them, with their dark pajamas and greasy black hair. Upturned faces with sinister slanting eyes mocked him. But it was he who mocked them. They needed him to come down. And that simply was not gonna happen. All he needed was a little rain. Just enough to refill his jug and get through another week.

  Lawrence sat down at his table. Yep, he’d show ‘em… he’d have breakfast. And wouldn’t they all just give their left nut for a taste. Again, he glanced at Cindy, her blank eyes staring back as he cut into the strip of meat on his plate. There wasn’t much of this left now that he thought about it. That was okay, he’d go out later and carve off another piece from where the rest of Cindy hung to cure and dry.

  In the corner, two young men continued in vain to struggle with the bindings that held their wrists and ankles secure. Their voices long gone from screaming against the gag. The older man sitting at the table adorned with Cindy Minor’s head as a macabre centerpiece, glanced over his shoulder.

  “Yep,” he said, “gots me plenty of food…just needs me a little rain for some water.”

  14

  One Geek, One Girl

  “Just a little farther,” Heather urged for probably the tenth time in the past hour.

  “No,” Cary groaned, and slid to the ground. He couldn’t go anymore. Not without a rest first.

  “Okay,” Heather conceded. “We�
�ll take five.” She eased Kevin down beside Cary. He continued to stare blankly ahead.

  Well, Heather thought as she took a seat across from the two men, at least he’s kinda conscious. She wondered if she looked nearly as bad as those two. Both were covered in dried blood and dirt. Both had bruises all over. Kevin’s eye had swollen completely shut. She touched her own left eye. It was bad, but she could see well enough.

  Glancing up the rows, there was no sign of the enormous mob of zombies that had poured out of Heath in response to Kevin’s huge explosion. They’d been cutting through the immense cornfield, heading away from Heath while simultaneously moving away from the edge of the field. She’d never considered how far this thing stretched. They must be coming close to an edge. Of course the three of them weren’t moving very quickly. Faster than zombies, but that wasn’t saying much.

  “We need water,” Cary broke the silence.

  “Maybe I could double back towards the house,” Heather offered.

  “No, the wind was taking the fire right towards it,” Cary said. “I’m guessing that it has reached it by now. The only thing saving our asses, really. I wouldn’t be surprised if this doesn’t burn the rest of Heath to the ground.”

  “Not much of a loss,” Heather sighed. Sure she’d grown up there, but two years ago the family took a vacation to California. They saw all the favorites: Disneyland, Magic Mountain, Universal Studios. As an added bonus, the Indians were in town against the Angels. She’d seen her favorite baseball team in person for the first time. She and her mom went on a shopping spree. That’s when Heather had fallen in love with The City. So much to see, to do. A man with a guitar sitting on the sidewalk caught her attention. His fingers seemed alive and his voice was…beautiful.

  “Heather,” Cary whispered, bringing her crashing back to a cornfield on the outskirts of Heath, Ohio.

  “Huh?”

  “Kevin keeps mumbling something.”

  She glanced over. He was still staring blankly ahead, but his mouth was moving. She leaned forward, but couldn’t make any sense of whatever he might be trying to say.

  She sat up and gave Cary another once over. He was awfully pale. They really needed to find a spot where they could rest, clean themselves up, and get a little food and water. She briefly wondered how many times they would have to start all over from scratch. Sure, they had a couple of weapons, but nothing to speak of as far as firepower. The little they had wouldn’t let them shoot their way out if things got sticky.

  “Stay here,” Heather climbed to her feet.

  “What are you doing?” Cary asked.

  “I can move quicker alone—”

  “That’s what I was saying earlier,” he interrupted.

  “No, idiot.” She shook her head. “I’m gonna cut straight across and see if I can get to the end of this field. I’m going to move up from here, hopefully not drift too far left or right so that I can come back to you once I know how far we have to go.”

  “Okay,” Cary said weakly and closed his eyes. “You do that, and I’ll be right here.”

  Heather gave Kevin one last concerned look, he hadn’t budged. He still sat, staring straight ahead. She didn’t care what anybody thought, and she was pretty sure that Kevin wouldn’t even remember; so, before she left she leaned down and kissed Kevin on the cheek.

  Nothing.

  Stepping through the first couple of rows weren’t too bad, but by the time she’d put several dozen behind her, Heather began to feel a bit nervous. She hadn’t been alone, not like this anyways, in quite some time. It began to seem like there was truly no end to this field. Then she saw it…open ground!

  Stopping a couple of rows from the edge, she watched for any sign of movement. Nothing at all passed by. Slowly, she crept the last couple of rows. Her heart pounded loud enough that she was certain that if there were any zombies near, they’d hear it. Her mouth was even drier than before.

  That last row was like approaching the edge of a cliff. Her hands trembled, and it became strangely difficult to control her breathing. Parting the wide leaves with her hands, Heather peeked out. A narrow two-lane road was on the other side of the barbed wire fence that stretched in both directions.

  Nothing moved. It was silent. She had to concentrate to hear the sounds of the fire left so far behind. Across the street she spotted a double-wide trailer. It was still attached to the hauler and had gone part way into the ditch on the far side of the road. Of course, it was only one half of the mobile home. The wall of black plastic was intact, which she took as a good sign. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do for now. If she could get Cary and Kevin inside, even at the angle it sat, at least they could rest up for a bit. She could go out on her own and scrounge up some food and water.

  Yep, she thought, that would have to do.

  

  Cary glanced over at Kevin. The man hadn’t budged. He was still staring blankly straight ahead. At least he’d quit mumbling. Now there was nothing but the quiet…and the distant roaring of a fire. There was no hint of the sounds of the undead. That was what he really wanted to listen for. He knew that if he did hear them it was probably too late. Both of the worst possible ways to die in Cary’s opinion were definite risks today: fire and zombies.

  “Cary,” a voice whispered.

  “Right here,” Cary said looking around confused. Had he closed his eyes? He glanced over at Kevin. The movement hurt something terrible. Where was Kevin? He’d just been right—

  “Cary,” the voice was more urgent this time. It was somewhere behind him. “Where’s Heather?”

  He heard the rustling of the cornstalks behind him and rolled his head around to try and get a better look. Kevin pushed through the long, brown leaves and stepped uneasily into the row.

  “Where’s Heather, Cary?”

  “She went to look for a way out of this infernal cornfield.”

  “By herself?” Kevin asked, visibly alarmed.

  “Before you get your panties in a bunch, that little girl is the reason you…hell both of us…are alive right now.”

  “What’re you talkin’ about?”

  Cary explained all that had transpired in the past couple of hours as best he could remember. A few times he had to stop and take a few deep breaths when the pain spiked. He couldn’t ever remember hurting so bad in his life.

  “How long has she been gone?” Kevin asked after Cary finished recounting events.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Cary sighed. “I was sitting here, and must’ve dozed off. I remember thinking that my chances of dying were pretty high, and that of my two choices…fire or zombies…neither were very appealing. That, and I was glad that you’d finally quit mumbling.”

  “Maybe I can help you get up and we can go find her,” Kevin offered.

  “If we move, she might come back here and miss us in passing,” Cary said, mostly because he didn’t relish the thought of moving.

  “Well—”

  A sound cut Kevin’s argument off. The sounds of the cornstalks rustling were growing louder, but it was too difficult to tell from which direction. Kevin’s hands went instinctively to his weapons…which were long gone.

  “Here.” Cary handed the hunting knife he kept on his belt up to Kevin.

  “What’ll you use?” Kevin hesitated.

  “You,” Cary smiled weakly.

  “Huh?” Kevin missed the joke.

  “You’re my weapon, dumb-ass,” Cary said as he fought down a cough.

  “Oh.”

  Kevin took the knife and tried to pinpoint the sound. He was so disoriented; the tall stalks on every side didn’t help much as he struggled to get his bearings. Plus, the tops of the plants were a good foot or so above his head. He turned and caught a whiff of something. It was the smell of—

  A tiny body crashed through the stalks and he was out of position. He’d need to step over Cary to get to it. The little girl, a toddler really, had a huge chunk of its chubby upper-thigh missing. It was naked and fil
thy, a long line of dark drool hanging from its chin. Tiny hands reached out and its mouth opened. A sickly wheezing groan that made the hair on Kevin’s arms stand up issued forth. A second later, it was answered by a chorus.

  “Shit!” Kevin cursed.

  “Aww, hell!” Cary echoed the sentiment.

  Not sure how many were coming, Kevin stepped across his friend and grabbed the matted mop of curly brown hair with one hand and plunged the five-inch blade into a milky eye-socket. A slight twist of the wrist for effect, and he let the body collapse to the ground.

  “You ain’t got a choice now,” Kevin hissed. He knelt down and felt his entire body protest. “We gotta get you on your feet and move. We’ll try to follow the direction Heather went.”

  “I can’t.” Cary shook his head.

  “Bullshit!” Kevin protested. “I’ll help you. Now c’mon!”

  “No,” Cary said. “I’m serious.” He coughed, unable to hold it back this time. It felt as if his entire insides were torn. Blood flecked his lips and dribbled down his chin. “I want to…trust me, buddy. But I just can’t.”

  A new chorus of groans and moans of the undead drifted through the cornstalks in response to Cary’s cough. It almost sounded as if they were surrounded. Kevin looked around nervously.

  “Kev,” Cary’s voice made him jump, “you gotta go, man.”

  “I’m not leaving you…not again,” Kevin croaked over the growing lump in his throat.

  “Look,” Cary clutched his friend’s pant leg, “it ain’t like last time. This time, I’m done. Something inside me feels… busted. You can’t leave Heather alone. She won’t last one day.”