Redemption of the Dead

by A. P. Fuchs

  “I see.” He looked at her as if she was holding something back, which she was, but it wasn’t his business anyway.

  “One of the reasons I came here is for arms,” she said. “How are we in that department?”

  “We have some old stock and a small new one. We salvaged what we could from the old site, but didn’t come up with much. Most of it was buried and it’s too dangerous to go excavate now. What do you need?”

  “Ideally a .9mm, probably two, enough ammo to last me a couple of days, and any walkie-talkies, if you have, so I can keep in touch with the safe house.”

  “Got the former, I think, but not the latter. Communications in general have been shaky, and had even started to get so prior to the attack on the Hub. Safety first, networking later, and all that.”

  “Take me to the armory,” she said.

  “I’ll take you to my quarters,” he said.

  She looked at him crossly.

  “It’s where the guns are.”

  “Oh.”

  * * * *

  16

  Two Roads

  At first it had been tempting to walk to that pack of rotters, hold out his hands and let them take him, but Joe decided not to let his emotions get the best of him and instead swiftly dealt with the undead threat that had come near him.

  Now, tired of walking in the dusty air and heading back to the house he shared with Tracy, he tried to think of excuse after excuse as to his leaving again only to come up short every time.

  There really is just one choice in all this, he thought. I got to tell her the truth. She’s got to understand or it’ll at the very least make sense to her.

  The trek into the city was supposed to have lasted a full day, even two, but instead the round trip would take him about nine hours.

  Joe pulled the steak knife from his belt and was near the area of their overturned truck. He wanted to see if he could find the X-09 nearby as Tracy had lost it during the tumble. Keeping his eyes peeled for any walking dead, he adjusted his course and it didn’t take long until he was beside the vehicle and checked it over top to bottom. He couldn’t see the gun anywhere even after brushing through the debris surrounding the truck.

  Did she have it and accidentally dropped it elsewhere? He hoped not because that meant the gun could be anywhere, with anyone. He rounded the vehicle again, scanning back and forth beside it for the weapon, double checking.

  It wasn’t there.

  “What, did the zombies take it?” he said with a smirk. Maybe this was a good thing? Maybe it was a sign that it was time to move on, and since the X-09 had been so much a part of himself, it was the first thing that had to go.

  Thinking about the gun made him think back to Billie and August, even Des, and how, despite their differences, everything seemed to click with them and they got along. He was happy that their camaraderie wasn’t based simply in them all being survivors and having no choice but to work together. There was a chemistry there, each with a role to fill: him with the gun and deadly aim, Billie the brains and attitude, Des comedic relief, and August a father figure and spiritual guide.

  He couldn’t wait to see August and Billie again. It’d almost be like old times except for Des being gone.

  Feet getting sore, the injury to his side pulsing and stinging, Joe looked forward to getting back and putting his feet up—after talking to Tracy, of course. He hoped she was taking it easy, relaxing on the couch, keeping an eye out through the window for any undead that might be going through the neighborhood. Maybe she even searched out another house or two and found some food. His stomach growled. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal and his half of the can of chickpeas had run its course. He noticed the lack of food having an effect on his energy, and though he felt fine from the neck down, he was tired from the neck up, fatigue hanging over his eyes, his brain given to bouts of fuzziness.

  “Sooo thirsty . . .” Just go home and relax. He shook his head. “I mean, just go back to the house and relax. Get a new game plan going. It’ll work out.” He stopped walking, turned in a circle, checking for zombies, then, seeing none, faced the direction he was going. He was at the corner of Main and the Chief Peguis Trail, the bridge that would take him over to Henderson and right into the Haven. Standing there shouldn’t have been as big a deal as it was, but the first thing that came to mind was the image of a forked road.

  “Robert Frost,” he said. Maybe the old Joseph was closer to the surface than he thought? But if he went down Chief Peguis Trail, he’d definitely be back deep in the undead world he spent so much time fighting.

  Him, Billie and Des had left the Haven because the zombies were coming in from downtown and infiltrating the area they had pretty much left alone save for a pocket of them here or there. Joe hadn’t checked out the Haven in this world so wasn’t sure if it was undergoing the same transition, though judging by the number of undead downtown, maybe the switching of locations hadn’t taken place?

  “Not going to risk it,” he said, ashamed he wouldn’t start up the crusade again. At least not without a gun. He glanced in the direction of the truck and felt the inner nudge to go back and do one more sweep for the X-09. With his head fuzzy, he mistrusted his own memory of his previous effort to find it.

  You got to move on, he told himself. He thought back to his looking for the weapon. It’s not there, let it go, and if it is there, then you’re not meant to find it. Maybe on the way back, if I come down this way with Tracy. I don’t know, we’ll see.

  Joe looked down the Trail one last time then headed down Main as planned, body on edge and ready for any attacker that might come his way.

  * * * *

  Over an hour later, Joe arrived on the street with the house, having taken down a few gutmunchers along the way. Satisfied none of the creatures were around as he neared the house, he noticed the SUV was gone. Either she was too, or, maybe she brought it into the garage for safety reasons. He jogged to the door and rang the doorbell. He waited. No answer. He rang the bell again. Same thing. He pounded on the door with the side of his fist, the pain in his wrist igniting in the process. The curtains were all drawn so there was no way to look in.

  Maybe she’s asleep, he thought, which he didn’t have a problem with.

  He rounded the back and entered the way they had originally through the kitchen window. The house was quiet.

  Joe went to the sink to turn on the water. “Right, not working.” He noticed his note on the kitchen table and that the mallet and cleaver were gone. “Uh oh.” Quickly, he ran from room to room, even the basement, calling Tracy’s name. He turned up empty. “She better not have—”

  His side stung and he knew he had to take care of it right away. He attended to it immediately, using the distraction to let his subconscious work out where Tracy might have gone. “Maybe for food?” he said as he looked through the medicine cabinet. He found painkillers and popped four in his mouth, chewed them quick to get them working fast, eyes watering from the awful bitter taste. Man, he needed some water to wash the grit down and his thirst was driving him mad. He didn’t find any gauze or dressings for wounds, but did find a bottle of peroxide.

  Taking it, he wandered through the house, looking for a sewing machine. He didn’t find one and couldn’t think of where the people who lived here might have kept any darning supplies, if they had any.

  “This is going to suck,” he said and went down to the workshop in the basement, found a tube of super glue, then headed to the bathroom where he took his shirt off and checked out the wound. Edges ragged, the wound looked like someone had mashed a piece of cherry pie up against his side then added bits of wet cracker just for good measure. Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

  Joe leaned over the tub, opened up the peroxide, then braced himself for a buttload of pain. He poured the peroxide on the wound. What felt like someone taking a whip to his skin stung the area, causing his insides to lock and quiver. He did it a few more times, each splash worse
than the last. Side numb, he was able to dab away the excess peroxide with a towel, then got to work pinching the open flaps of skin together after putting a line of super glue between. He didn’t know how safe this was, but he had to keep it closed somehow. As always, the super glue proved strong enough to bind anything together. He checked the gash on his forearm and, after cleaning it, glued it shut as well. Holding a towel to his side, Joe left the bathroom and hit the couch in the front room where he stretched out as much as his side would let him, letting himself ooze into the cushions and take a breather.

  He still didn’t know what to do about Tracy, and could only pray she was okay.

  * * * *

  The short nap was needed, and though Joe hadn’t been out for long, it was enough to take the edge off and give him the boost he required to get going again. He checked the house once more, thinking maybe Tracy had returned while he was sleeping and let him rest. She wasn’t there and the SUV wasn’t in the garage.

  “I have no idea where she is,” he said. Smart plan would be to stay put, but she took the SUV and the weapons. Is she coming back, even? Should I wait until tonight to see if she returns? “This sucks.”

  He decided to wait a short while longer, and if she didn’t return, he aimed to go to the only place he could think she might have gone.

  The Hub.

  * * * *

  One year ago . . .

  The demons had left Hell’s great chasm except for those who were commanded to remain with the damned and oversee their suffering.

  Bethrez shut down the portal and the magnificent vortex of red, orange and yellow light disappeared, leaving the three in darkness, only the ambient glow of the Lake of Fire their illumination.

  Bethrez couldn’t help himself but ask: “When will you enter, Master, and oversee the completion of this domination?”

  “That is for me to know, Bethrez, not you,” he replied.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Now, leave me, for I have matters to attend to.” He touched the portal.

  Both Bethrez and Vingros bowed and began to back away when the portal suddenly activated and the vortex came back to life. At the same time, a brilliant white light appeared far into the darkness.

  “Go see,” Lucifer said.

  Immediately, Bethrez and Vingros spread their wings and flew through the dark, heading straight for the white light. Glancing over his shoulder at his creation, Bethrez shuddered at the sight of hordes of demons returning after having just left.

  What went wrong? he wondered.

  “Keep your eyes forward, you fool,” Vingros told him.

  Bethrez faced front again and kept his eyes on the white light. As it came more into view, a jolt ran through him when he saw Nathaniel, the very angel they had come to capture, flying down toward the floor of Hell. In the angel’s glowing light, Bethrez saw a crowd of demons harassing a man who did not belong here, for if he did, he would not still be wearing his clothes from Earth.

  “How did he—” Before he could finish the question, Vingros had his sword drawn and was heading right for Nathaniel.

  Somewhere in the distance, Bethrez heard: “Joe, it’s me, Billie! Can you hear me? I can’t move, Joe. Help!” He turned around midair and went to investigate the source of the sound, a human voice, a female human voice.

  As was his habit, he looked over his shoulder and Vingros was already too late; the white fiery trail of the angel was already ascending at extreme speed with the man in tow.

  The master is going to be furious, if he finds out, Bethrez thought, even though he didn’t quite know what to make of it himself. Better return instead.

  Returning to the portal and hovering above it, he was dismayed to see that the legions of demons had already come back, but what was this? His master was pressing his hands against the portal, seeming to be feeding his energy into it, manipulating its very size and the sheer illumination of power as exhibited by the red glow and orange and yellow spider webs which were now shooting back and forth across the portal’s frame as big and as thick as bolts of lightning.

  “Return. Return! RETURN!” Lucifer shouted. “After him!”

  How does he know Nathaniel was just here? Bethrez wondered.

  Scores of demons about-faced and re-entered the portal. At first Bethrez thought that by meddling with its size, Lucifer had sabotaged it because the demons did not disappear through the vortex the moment they entered, but went through it, carrying a trail of the power’s overflow with them as they sped off into the dark and after the ascending angelic light of their enemy, which was now a mere pinprick against a mat of black.

  Bethrez stopped midair and reconsidered returning to his creation with the prospect of being reamed out by his master for yet another failed attempt at usurping the power of Heaven. And even if he did explain that it was his master’s fault for changing the portal, it would still be his responsibility and he’d quickly become a disembodied spirit, doomed to wander the Earth until ultimately cast to his doom in the Lake of Fire along with the damned of humanity.

  When the last of the demons went through the portal and disappeared into the dark high above, Bethrez mustered his courage and flew down to his master’s side. Landing, he was surprised to find his master laughing.

  “Amazing,” Lucifer said. “I knew I could do all things if permitted, and I am permitted!”

  “Master?” Bethrez said. “What did you do?” The words slipped out.

  The devil removed his hands from the portal. It went dark, but retained its size.

  Lucifer turned to him. “Do not take me for a fool, Bethrez. You will receive this one warning. You fail to remember that I see things differently than all here, for I was created the most beautiful, the most powerful. You are but a shadow to me!”

  Bethrez cowered just as Vingros landed beside him.

  “And you,” Lucifer said, storming over to Vingros. “He was here and you let him get away!” The devil shot his hand out of the clouds surrounding him and grabbed Vingros by the neck and yanked him into the cloud. From within, Vingros shrieked and was silenced. A small wisp of red floated off the devil’s gray cloud and dissipated; Bethrez knew it was Vingros’s spirit rising to the Earth where he would remain undetected by his kin until the time came for his sentence to be carried out.

  Bethrez kept his eyes to the floor, not daring to look up after what just happened.

  The devil went past him not saying a thing. He didn’t have to. The message was clear.

  * * * *

  17

  Crystals

  Billie, Sven and Bastian stood outside the cottage. Billie said she needed to get some fresh air so the two came with her to keep her company and stand guard. However, air wasn’t the real reason she wanted to go to the cottage above. Her bracelet had begun to glow white while she was alongside one of the walls in the large room beneath. If what she was looking for was nearby, it had to be accessed from outside unless they blasted a hole in the wall, which she doubted Isabel or the others would go for.

  “Can I walk around the cottage?” she asked Sven.

  He looked to his brother, then nodded. The three went to the side; a shed stood on the left side of the cottage about four feet from it. Billie kept an eye on her bracelet; the stone in the center glowed white until she moved around the shed and to its furthest side from the cottage.

  “What is that?” Sven asked, pointing toward her bracelet.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “To be honest, I’m just learning about it myself.” He looked at her like he didn’t understand. “I’m sorry. I don’t make sense. This bracelet” —she held it up— “is supposed to lead me to something. The problem is, I wasn’t told what. All I know was I was supposed to follow it when it glowed white.”

  “Why would someone give you something without saying how it works?”

  “Well, it’s from that angel and he’s big on the whole discover-for-yourself thing.”

  Sven lifted his gaze and scanned th
e area.

  Billie walked around to the far side of the shed. The light on the bracelet went out. Turning back, it lit up again and she walked between the shed and the cottage, the light remaining all the while. Around the back of the shed and, like before, once at the farthest side, the light went off.

  Between the cottage and shed again, she stayed in that area, moving her wrist about, checking to see the utmost range of where whatever-it-was was supposed to be. After a quick step to the right, the stone turned from white to bright gold, light shining out of it like a fluorescent bulb. The bracelet started to vibrate and rich crimson wafts of energy rose from the ground and into the bracelet, striking the middle of the stone. A moment longer and the stone’s light was extinguished. She tried to move the bracelet around again to get the white light going once more, but it didn’t light up. Upon further inspection, she noticed that a portion of the stone had transformed from its clear state to the same deep red of the energy from the ground, its form in that area like a diamond. The rest of the stone remained smooth.

  Not knowing what was going on, all Billie could do was say, “Well, I guess that’s it.”

  “You scary, lady,” Bastian told her.

  Sven didn’t say anything.

  * * * *

  Billie, Sven and Bastian had been airlifted via chopper to a small village some ways from the cottage. Billie didn’t remember the exact time of the flight, but guessed it to be a good two hours. Isabel had mentioned their contacts were at a base in a small town—Billie couldn’t remember the name—and had radioed in and asked for any news. Isabel told them about Billie’s arrival and that she would be sent right away. Confused why she was the one being sent from place to place instead of these bases simply coordinating over the airwaves, she wasn’t sure, but knew the answer probably lied in recovering the Divine Fragments.

  Now, in a small town that was utterly abandoned by both the living and the dead, Billie, Sven and Bastian touched down in the chopper and waved off a pilot named Jacob, who took the chopper back in the air and left the three there so as not to draw attention to them.