by Kirk Withrow
In the end, only a few lucky people near the pulpit avoided being attacked by the infected or trampled by the parishioners in the confusion. They followed Ezzard, their chosen spiritual leader, into the preparatory room at the back of the church after discovering that the church’s rear exit was blocked by several more of the infected trying to get inside.
Once in the relative safety of the small room, the six people who followed Ezzard worked to barricade the door as his vision narrowed and his hearing faded. Though he knew the atrocities he witnessed over the last ten minutes would be forever burned onto the surface of his retinas, at that moment everything happening around him seemed to evaporate. A single question surfaced in his mind: Why, God? Why?
Hearing no reply to his unspoken question, Ezzard was at first dismayed. As if being tested like Job, his faith took over, and he realized that his still being alive was at least part of the answer. He knew he must do everything in his power to save the few people still with him. As his senses returned, they ushered in the sights and sounds of the horrible reality he was trapped in. Outside, agonal screams and feral snarls accompanied the fierce banging on the door while inside only quiet, hopeless sobs and the winded panting of exertion arose.
Speaking in a commanding voice, loud enough to be heard over the collective din of noise, Ezzard said, “Hear me now, brothers and sisters! There is great evil in our house! Now, more than ever, you must be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. To stand, having your loins girt with the truth and wearing the breastplate of righteousness. And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace. Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith you shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Yes, brothers and sisters, put on the whole armor of God that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the Devil. And make no mistake, brothers and sisters, the Devil is here.”
His brief but fervent sermon had the desired effect as the fear that previously dominated the faces of each person in the small room faded. In all, there were four adults—two male and two female—as well as two female children. After a pause, a young man named Lonnie who had the athletic physique of a running back, stepped forward, and said, “Pastor, one of the people from the outside bit my hand before I made it in here. I’m not sure what is going on out there, but if the news reports are accurate, it seems to be some sort of contagious disease. Even though I was bitten less than an hour ago, I already feel like I am getting sick, and the skin around the wound doesn’t look too good. I feel that I am putting all of you at risk being in here,” said the young man as he held up his right hand and cast a serious gaze to the others around the room. The dark, discolored flesh surrounding the malodorous wound at the base of his thumb was instantly apparent to everyone.
Ezzard noticed a particularly emotional reaction from one of the females and recognized her as the man’s wife, Lydia. Before anyone had a chance to speak, Lonnie held up his left hand to silence any objections, and continued, “Now hear me out. If any of us are going to survive this, we have to get out of here first. That door is the only way out, and I don’t think anyone can make it through that crowd out there without ending up like me, and it’s…it’s too late for me, I can feel it. I’m not sure how much time I have, but I will push through them as far as I can and distract them for as long as I can. Give me five or ten seconds, then the rest of you make a break for the back door. There are some of them outside, but it’s your best shot to escape.”
Following the young man’s words, a cacophony of protests arose until Ezzard spoke again to silence them. “He’s right. I wish it weren’t so, but I think it’s the only way that anyone stands a chance to make it out of this room alive.”
Lonnie gave Ezzard an appreciative nod as the pastor continued, “The controls for the church’s P.A. system are in this room. They seem to be attracted to the sound of humans, so if we fade the speakers to the rear of the church and play a recording, we may be able to further distract them while we slip out the back.”
Lonnie looked at the pastor and the middle-aged man, Bill, with a resigned expression etched on his face. “You two ready? I want you guys out first after me, in case any of them slip past me.”
Both men nodded in affirmation. Then, turning to his young wife, he said, “I’m sorry, Lydia, but this is the only way. I love you, and I need you to promise me something. Promise me you won’t look into the mass of people out there. Promise me you won’t look back no matter what you hear. Focus on getting out the back door and getting to safety—nothing else. And when you make it through that door, keep running. And always be ready.”
With tears blurring her vision, choking her words, and soaking the soft skin of her face, all she could do was nod her head and hug him so tightly that she threatened to choke the life out of him right then. When Ezzard’s sermon from last week started playing in the back of the church, the horde indeed took notice. Without further ceremony, the young man pulled away, threw open the door, and charged headlong into the waiting horde.
Mustering everything he had, Lonnie smashed into the remaining infected mass propelling it back a couple of yards from the sheer force of the hit. They immediately folded around him, engulfing and incorporating him into their collective mass like a leukocyte around an invading bacterium. Ezzard was amazed at the number of infected the doomed man took down before ultimately occupying many more as they ripped him apart.
Ezzard murmured a short prayer then, ten seconds later, the remainder of the small group burst through the door like a shot, with Bill and Ezzard in the lead. Just as planned, the infected were preoccupied with Lonnie, who, to his credit, barely made a sound as they ripped and rived his flesh. Ezzard knew he remained silent for Lydia’s sake, and he thanked the Lord for giving the young man the strength to endure such a brutal, agonizing death with such grace and quietude.
The group made it to the back hallway before encountering any of the infected; several stood both inside and outside the back door, presumably drawn to the sound that the other made. Bill collided into the closest of the infected, slamming it hard into the wall before it slumped to the ground. He then grabbed the other two and slung them down the hall, away from the back door. As he turned back toward the door, a sharp, insufferable pain exploded from his leg as a pair of incisors, backed by more than a hundred pounds of pressure, pierced and crushed the flesh of his calf. His ensuing screams of pain immediately drew the attention of several of the infected on the outskirts of the main group centered on Lonnie’s still, mutilated form.
Ezzard knew it was his time to act, and he shoved back against the approaching revs with as much might as his aged body could muster. While he was able to nudge them back in small increments, none of them fell, and he knew it was just a matter of time before they tore him apart in much the same way as they had Lonnie and Bill. He pushed and pushed, yet despite his proximity to so many of the infected, none of them tried to attack him, or even seemed to notice he was there. Ezzard saw their gazes fixed on the fleeing women behind him and was confused by this. When he finally heard the back door open, relief washed over him like the cool night air that flowed in. His solace, however, was short-lived as he saw one of the children viciously dragged to the ground by several of the infected lurking outside the church. The other woman, whose name Ezzard could not recall, rushed to aid the fallen girl only to be mauled for her effort.
Lydia saw this as well, and though she was deeply saddened by the fate of the girl and the woman, she knew there was nothing she could do for them. Seeing a hole open up as several of the infected pounced on the stricken woman, Lydia scooped up the remaining little girl and bolted through their ranks into the relative safety of the dark forest beyond.
Despite his focus resting on the fate of the others rather than on protecting himself
from the infected mouths less than a foot in front of him, Ezzard remained essentially unscathed. Though his joints and muscles ached from the exertion, the mouths of the infected bestowed no pain upon him. Satisfied that at least two of his children had made it out of the besieged building, he finally gave in to his body’s overwhelming cries of exhaustion. As he stopped pushing against the infected horde, he closed his weary eyes, and said another short prayer as he prepared to greet his Lord in the Promised Land.
Several long moments passed while Ezzard prayed for the strength and grace to endure the imminent pain—only it never came. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and found himself flailing amidst a sea of tormented faces like he had somehow fallen from Charon’s ferry into the river Styx. While he watched the wretched procession of the Devil’s minions defile his church—his God’s house—his confusion quickly morphed into anger.
No longer concerned for his own mortality, Ezzard shoved his way through the macabre congregation gathered before the Lord’s righteous altar. A fiery rage overcame him, and he was consumed with the need to cleanse the temple of the evil befallen it. Clothed in the whole armor of God, he picked up a heavy, brass candlestick and waded into the horde to deliver God’s retribution.
Chapter 34
October 20, 2015
“Let me tell you, child. I’se an old black man, and I’ve seen some right evil things in my days, but nothing could hold a candle to what I bore witness to that night.”
Tears flowing and lips trembling, Kate listened intently as she watched the old preacher’s heart breaking right before her. She wanted to tell him to stop, even beg him to do so, but her mouth could not shape the words. All she could do was slowly shake her head in disbelief.
Seeing Kate’s distress, Ezzard placed a gentle hand on her tear-soaked cheek. “Fear not child, for though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we shall fear no evil. For there is no darkness black enough to quell the light of the Lord. If I ever needed proof of that, I saw it that night. Those of us that made it to the safety of this room came to the understanding that the 'people' out there were no longer our former parishioners. Whatever was happening to them destroyed the former people and replaced them with monsters. Now I know the Devil has a hand in this mess, but I don’t believe those folks was possessed by demons or anything like that. We knew we had to get out of the church if we were going to survive, and we knew what it was going to take to make that happen,” said Ezzard.
Ezzard understood the irony that the very infection trying to kill them had probably saved them that night. Having seen what happened to those who became infected, Lonnie accepted that he was a dead man. Rather than implode from self-pity and denial, he chose to extract what good he could from the situation. Reflecting on the young man’s heroic final sacrifice, Ezzard considered something he had heard before: ‘It is not the thing that is good or bad, it is what man does with it.’
Concluding, Ezzard said, “Now I’ve thought about this a great deal in the last couple of weeks, and I don't truly know if this is a plague sent by God in response to man’s wicked ways, or the Devil coming forth to wage war against the righteous, or merely man’s stupidity and unrelenting quest for money and power gone horribly wrong. Maybe it's just bad luck. I do know one thing; it sure isn't enough to shake my faith. If anything, it’s stronger now than ever before. After all, when the entire world is crumbling around you, what else do you have? Now more than ever, the only thing that defines a person is what's inside and what they do with it. All the cars, money, and toys you had yesterday don't add up to diddly today. Except maybe that rifle there, that's still worth something, I suppose. I only wish I would have remembered this tunnel when we were trapped in here, maybe things would have turned out differently.” A lone tear trickled down the old pastor’s cheek and hung precariously along his sagging jaw line before plummeting to the dust-covered floor.
Ezzard’s reverie was broken as John shouted from the depths of the cellar, “We got it! I think we can get through! Everybody come down!”
Chapter 35
October 20, 2015
Kate called to Reams, who looked like a Sherpa when he entered the room, carrying all of their gear at once. “They got the tunnel cleared—we can head down now,” said Kate as the big man unloaded the packs and weapons next to the cellar opening.
“Good timing, too, the revs are stacking up out front. I’m not sure how much longer the barricade will hold,” replied Reams. “Kate, I’ll head down halfway and you pass me the gear before you come down, okay?” Kate nodded in agreement as Reams started to descend into the darkness of the cellar below. Once he was in position, Kate passed their three rifles down. Next, she handed Reams each of the packs before turning to address Ezzard.
“You’re next, Ezz,” said Kate as she motioned for him to head down the ladder.
Still wearing his trademark smile, Ezzard gave Kate a small shake of his head, and said, “I’m staying here, child. This is where I belong,” said Ezzard.
“Ezzard! You can’t! That’s suicide! There are two hordes of those things converging on this place right now. I know you have managed to avoid getting bitten thus far, but that luck isn’t going to last forever!” said Kate with noticeable disapproval in her voice. “Now get started down the ladder!”
“Kate, my being alive is not of my own doing. I am an old man. I don’t possess the skills or the youth to survive something like this, yet here I am. That is the work of someone stronger than me, so who am I to question that? You see, the Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer. How can I want for more than that?” said Ezzard as the rhythmic banging at the front of the church intensified.
“No child, my place is here, but this place ain’t safe for you. So go now, and don’t fret another minute about ol’ Ezz. I’ll be all right.”
Though she didn’t like it, she sensed there was nothing she could say or do to sway his mind. Before heading to the ladder she gave Ezzard a huge hug as she openly cried. “Take care, Ezz, and thanks for everything.”
“Go with God, child,” replied Ezzard with a smile as he closed the cellar door, plunging them into darkness.
Switching on a flashlight, John turned to Kate, and asked, “Where’s Ezz?” Though she didn’t speak, her tear-stained expression and the subtle shake of her head told him the answer. He started to inquire as to why he was not coming with them, but something in Kate’s expression told him the answer to that question as well; through her tears, she was smiling.
Russell broke the silence, saying, “John, you go first with Kate and Reams following behind you. I’ll head down the tunnel last. Let’s get going.”
The group crept out of the cramped cellar and into the narrow, ancient earthen tunnel; each silently praying it would not collapse. Moving cautiously in a single-file line as though the slightest vibration might bring the roof of the derelict tunnel down on top of them, they made it to the site of the previous cave-in. John and Ethan had cleared a small opening by enlarging the gap near the top of the dirt mound. After removing their packs John and Kate wriggled through the cramped opening in the earthen wall.
Reams eyed the diminutive hole suspiciously, wondering if John or Ethan considered his size when they dug the passage. After passing the bags and weapons through to John, Reams tried to psych himself up for the impossible feat. While not particularly claustrophobic, Reams felt his anxiety was justified when the potential for further collapse of the tunnel, as well as his limited ability to breathe due to the restriction of his rib cage were factored in.
Steeling his nerves, Reams crawled into the constricted section of the tunnel. Though it was less than four feet long, it seemed like a mile as he tried to wriggle and squirm through the constrictive passageway. Alternately flexing and relaxing nearly every small muscle in his body as he imagined a snake might, he tried to advance as he exhaled in order to offer the least possible resistance to forward motion. He could not tell how far he had moved because the confin
ed space required him to keep his head turned to the side. Even with copious words of encouragement from John and Kate, panic overtook his mind when he sensed his upper body was stuck only about half way through.
Hyperventilating and unable to see anything in the darkness, Reams began to flail his legs wildly in a futile effort to free himself. “I’m stuck! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! I’m gonna die in here! Oh shit!” he said repeatedly. In his agitated state he was unable to comprehend that, in much the same way as a Chinese finger trap, the more he struggled, the tighter it got.
After struggling nearly to the point of passing out, Reams finally managed to free his left arm. Kate grasped his sweating hand and tried to calm the frantic behemoth. John sensed that the situation was only getting worse as Reams’ spastic struggling became less forceful; he realized they were going to have to help him through. “Russell, can you get a hold of his feet? I’m going to try to pull him while you push him,” yelled John. Turning to Kate, he said, “Crawl up there and try to keep him calm so he can work with us.”
After a three-count, they tried to force Reams through the opening. John and Ethan strained until miniscule flashes of light danced through their visual fields, but Reams budged nary an inch. As he lay motionless, John wondered if the big man had lost consciousness. If so, getting him through was certainly going to be a much more daunting task.
“Reams, you with us? We’re still here. Do you think you can work with John and Ethan to get you out of there?” said Kate in a soothing, almost angelic voice. As her words faded, an eerie quiet filled the tunnel unmarred even by the sound of breathing. No one moved a muscle as seconds passed while they awaited his reply.
“If those two scrawny white boys think they can pull my big ass through this little hole, then I’m all for it,” came a calm, rumbling voice from inside the tight gap.