by K Helms
The pack of zombies had managed to acquire another three of their kind and they clawed at the fence, unaware that the gate was open.
Hito fumbled in his drag bag and retrieved his M4 with an M203 grenade launcher mounted beneath the rifle barrel. He keyed the mic. “Stay put, reload, and keep your eyes open,” he said, then crouch-ran toward the still open gate. As he ran through he felt a hand grab at his ankle, but a loud report from the barn stifled the dying man’s grip. He zigzagged across the side lawn, stopped beside a shattered window, and loaded a fragmentation grenade. He fired it through the top window; he repeated the process through every window. He used his small handled mirror to peek around the corner. Satisfied, he crawled over the sill and into the perfect darkness of the house.
Hito Takahashi had the uncanny ability of understanding how people ticked. He cleared the first floor of the house, but didn’t bother to check the second floor or attic. He remembered Annie’s description of the mansion vividly. He found the door that led to the basement where the Doctor did his surgery. The door, of course, was locked. It was a steel door and the shotgun would do little to dismantle it. The funny thing about doors, he thought was that the frames were almost invariably made of wood and covered in drywall and maybe some oak molding. He didn’t have to blow the hinges or the deadbolt, just the wood frame that held it. He pulled out his survival knife and slammed it into the jam, fished out a grenade from his vest pocket. He pulled the pin and balanced it carefully atop the wide blade then he let go and dove into the next room behind a large coffee table.
The explosion was deafening and it took a few moments to get his bearings. It would have been worse but for the fact that Hito held his mouth open to lessen the pressure of the blast, so as not to concuss him.
Hito stood to his feet, his ears still ringing and held the rifle in front of him; butt stock jammed firmly into his shoulder and saw that the wall beside the door was completely demolished. The end of the dead bolt was showing, intact but attached to nothing; he kicked the door inward and braced himself against the wall as he waited for shots to start ringing out.
Silence.
He fished out his mirror and peeked around the corner down the stairs. It appeared clear, but he couldn’t be too careful. Hito plucked out a flash-bang grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it down the steps. He heard the metal casing bounce off a step then ting against concrete where it rolled haphazardly for a second before exploding.
Once the echoes of the explosion had died down and silence filled the house once again Hito heard someone coughing and crashing about, from the basement.
“I’ve got girls down here!” he heard someone scream from below. “You can have them all; just let me go, OK?” The voice was quaking, tremulous.
Hito didn’t respond.
Again from below, “I’ve got coke and booze too, you can have it all; just please…let me go. I won’t give you any trouble.”
“Come on up, mister, I won’t shoot you,” said Hito calmly.
“Do you swear?”
Hito shook his head in amazement. “Yeah, I swear, now get up here.” Hito paused for a moment then added, “But if you come upstairs with a weapon, I will.”
Hito heard metal hit the concrete floor. “OK, I don’t have any weapons, don’t shoot OK?”
“I said yeah, you pussy, now get up here.”
“OK.”
Hito heard footsteps slowly ascend the stairs and he backed cautiously into the shadows of the living room, just in case. From this vantage point he watched as a young girl appeared first, an arm around her neck; she was crying, so was the man behind her.
“See, you can have her, she’ll do whatever you want, I swear.”
Hito remained in the shadows and said, “Fine, send her over here.”
Reluctantly the man let go of her and pushed her forward. “Remember, you swore you wouldn’t shoot me.”
“I remember. Are you the Doctor?” asked Hito.
The man’s face looked relieved. He was well aware that his services were in great demand. “Yes, I am Doctor James. Albert James.”
Hito grabbed his radio. “Shere, c’mon down here, I found him.” He motioned with the barrel of the shotgun, “Over here in the living room.” The Doctor did as he was told. “Are there any others downstairs?”
“There are a couple other girls…”
“How many is a couple?”
“There’s four more. Take them, they’re yours.”
Hito tossed the doctor a set of handcuffs. “Put these on.”
The doctor complied.
“Make sure they’re tight,” said Hito, watching the doctor as he clicked them tighter by four or five clicks. Satisfied, Hito said, “Have a seat.”
From the front door Shere and Annie entered, wild eyed on adrenaline. They walked into the living room, both holding M4s. Annie saw the doctor first and her mouth stretched into a grimace and hissed, “That’s him!”
Shere charged at the man and slammed the butt stock of her rifle in his face, breaking his nose. “Hi there,” she said with a smile, and stepped back to admire her handy work. Blood poured from his nostrils, over his lips and dripped from his chin as he bent forward holding his nose and moaning.
Hito gestured grandly toward the Doctor for Annie’s benefit “He’s all yours, do whatever you want.”
“Would you drag him onto the porch for me?” asked Annie.
Hito nodded. “No problem.”
The doctor struggled to get up, but Shere cracked him on top of the head with the butt of the rifle, successfully knocking him out. Hito grabbed the doctor by one ankle and dragged him outside into the cold night air.
He looked expectantly at Annie, "Now what?"
"Ummm...could you cuff each wrist to those porch supports?"
"It's your show," Hito said. He cuffed one wrist to the one side of the steps and
Shere did the same with the other.
“Hito will you wake him for me while I go to the shed?” Annie asked. He nodded and bent toward the doctor as Annie dashed for the corner of the house. Hito repeatedly slapped the man in the face with the back of his hand. The Doctor groaned; his eyes still glassy.
Shere glanced over and looked at the angle of Hito’s jaw and the boyish way his bangs fell over his one eye no matter how many times he brushed it back. He caught her staring and smiled. Shere didn't look away, but smiled back. "Sure is a beautiful night for a murder."
"Yeah... beautiful," Hito said and then dropped his eyes.
Shere saw Annie jogging back to them. “What do you have there?”
Annie held out a syringe. "It's to keep him from passing out and going into shock, but he'll still feel everything. He liked to use this on us when things started getting rough."
She leaned forward with the needle and the doctor kicked at her "Nyyaaaa...." He thrashed against his restraints, the metal cuffs cutting into his flesh.
"Hey!" Hito shouted at the doctor and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it backward. The doctor screamed and from the distance they heard the call of the dead. First one, then joined by another and another. Hito jerked his head upward and looked hard at the two women.
"We'd better make this quick; that was close."
Shere agreed, but Annie didn't seem to be bothered by the prospect. She explained, "I want them here. I want them to devour him...alive. I want him to feel every tooth, every nail, and every bite."
The doctor began crying hysterically, but no one paid him any heed.
The dead called again. Closer now and they could hear the sounds of leaves rustling and twigs snapping. Another groan cried in the night and that was echoed by others.
"If that's what you want," Hito shrugged. "But don't you want to do the honors yourself?"
Annie's face was stern. "Who knows, maybe I'll get to get to kill him the second time around. Until then, this is perfect."
Hito looked at Annie. “So now what?”
“Did you free the othe
r girls?” she asked.
Shere nodded. “Yeah, we gave them clothes, but one of them was a dwarf so the clothes didn’t fit her. We gave them food and the keys to the Doctor’s Bentley.”
“The midget kicked the doctor in the side of the head when she walked past him,” said Hito laughing.
“That was Juanita,” Annie said and looked miserable. “I think they would have killed me if it hadn’t been for her.”
“Sounds like a good girl,” Hito said
“She is…” Annie seemed to think about this for a moment as if she were trying to remember something, then changed the subject. “Well we can leave him here for the rest of the zombies to finish off, but we need more blood to attract them,” She motioned toward the doctor then leaned over his bloody face, her face inches above his own and whispered something to him that Hito and Shere could not hear.
"OK," Shere said and withdrew her K-bar. Hito whistled appreciatively. "Any particular preference?"
Annie's face lit up. "You know, there is one part of him that he really shouldn't have used."
"I think I know what part that is," Shere said.
"Aw man, I don't think I can watch that," Hito cringed.
The dead called again and this time when they looked they saw the small troop emerging from the tree line, trudging forward. The dead began to walk faster and faster.
"Make it quick Shere," Hito suggested.
She did and Hito did watch. She brought the eight inch blade into the doctor’s groin and buried it to the handle. Blood poured over the handle, covering her hand as the doctor screamed with such intensity that her ears rang. Blood soaked the ground and continued to pour. The dead had the scent and they could hear their jaws slamming shut, opening so wide the tendons cracked then slammed shut again and again and again.
“Can we go home? I’m cold,” she said.
Annie stopped suddenly and turned back toward the open front door. Hito looked at her patiently. “Something else?” he asked.
A frown creased her brow. “Do you mind if I get something from downstairs first?” she asked timidly.
Hito shook his head in agitation. "Make it quick, alright?"
“It's just a little keepsake that I forgot the night I escaped,” she answered, her face flushing slightly.
He frowned slightly. “Go on, we really need get out of here before we get overrun.” He glanced at the dead and saw that they were nearly running toward them. His black hair fell over his right eye and he smoothed it to the side with a brush of the hand.
Annie darted the house and disappeared down the steps.
Hito took the time to admire Shere’s face as she watched the approaching death squad. All he knew was that he wanted this woman more than he had ever wanted another and it scared him.
Annie re-emerged from the house clutching a worn Teddy Bear in the crook of her arm, its one remaining eye staring blankly as its head bobbed with each step. Her face was still flushed. “OK, now I’m ready,” she said.
Shere scraped her boot heel across the doctor’s broken nose, smiled and said “Have a nice day.” Then the three of them ran back up the hill to where Hito had parked the Hummvee. Hito looked at Shere. “How about you, anyone you would like us to kill?” he asked nonchalantly.
No one had ever asked her such a ridiculous question before, or had ever asked it in such a nice tone. He was an extraordinary man. She was aware that she was better trained than he and she was a better shot, but he was a natural born leader. He had that intangible element that all good leaders had. She shook her head. “No…you killed Finley already, besides I prefer to take care of my business personally.” She would keep her bucket list to herself; that vengeance would be for her, alone, to experience.
“Thank you, Shere, and thank you Hito for doing this for me," Annie said earnestly.
Hito put the vehicle in gear. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 43 - The Ark of the Coven
The Isle of Hate,
Plane of the Ark
Thomas Walters regained consciousness and saw gray clouds churning above him. He was surprised to be alive. He rose to his feet effortlessly. He had never felt this strong.
“Ahh, little golem, you have awakened,” said a familiar voice from behind him. “I was worried about you.”
Walters cringed as he turned to face the Lich, Baliel, of Ba'al. He felt compelled to kneel before his new king. As he did so he bowed his head and saw that he was now adorned in what appeared to be medieval armor that was black and glossy like leather, but hard like steel. “You see that I have changed you; you are now my general and will lead my army; stand before me.”
Walters obeyed.
“Go to that stream and gaze upon yourself,” ordered the Lich, pointing a gilded and bejeweled finger. Thomas looked in the direction the Lich had pointed, saw the stream and strode toward it. He knelt before it on his hands and knees and saw what he had become. A red crystal skull stared back at him and he jerked back in fear.
“You are now Bludglutton and I have dominion over you; though you are my general you are also my slave,” said the Lich with a laugh.
“What have you done to me?” Thomas rose again and faced his king.
“I have taken away the unnecessary and replaced the flawed with something better than a simple golem,” said Baliel.
“Who are you?” asked Thomas forcing himself to keep the hatred from his voice and to sound submissive.
“You will call me Lord. This day we begin to take this land and convert its inhabitants into our kind, which are neither quite living, nor not quite dead.”
Thomas Walters, being a cunning individual, nodded his head in agreement even though he would try to find a way out of this mess and land on his feet. Walters always landed on his feet. “Where do we start?”
The Lich pointed at a castle on the hill. “That is a good place to begin,” he said with that hideous laughter. “I think we should introduce you to your men first, don’t you?”
Walters bowed his head “Whatever you say.” And I will take that crown of yours in due time, mother fucker.
As if reading his thoughts, the Lich added in a low, grave tone, “See to it that you serve me well, Bludglutton. If you have plans of disloyalty then she will burn for eternity.”
Thomas saw a ragged form staggering toward him from behind Baliel, of Ba'al. She was old and frail and dead. She was also Thomas’ mother, Enid. He looked back to the giant corpse in flowing robes. The Lich smiled, and the flesh around his lips ripped slightly as he did so. “Do you recognize her?”
Thomas nodded and hatred for the Lich filled his heart. “What are you going to do with her?”
“Oh, that is not my decision, it is yours. Serve me well and I will release her. If you do not serve me well, then…do you recall the pain of your flesh being seared from you?”
Thomas nodded.
“Good. Now imagine that pain continuing for as long as I choose. I am patient and do not grow bored easily; hers would be an eternity of agony.”
Thomas looked again at his reflection in the pool and saw what few others have ever been given a glimpse of. Mortality; all that remained of that innocent child he’d been so long ago was utterly gone.
After his release from prison the second time he had sworn that he’d never go back again, but now, his heart, an atrophied muscle, lay dormant in this prison where the bars were made of bones. He deserved this fate, he knew that. The life of a prisoner was nothing new to him. As a child he had been at the mercy of an alcoholic father that had beaten him for the slightest infraction. At eighteen he’d done his first stretch in the joint and he had been paroled only to become a prisoner to the same master his father had served. Once again he had been a prisoner in another state correctional facility and then after his eventual release he had become the willing servant of envy toward his brother, a cellmate to rebellion and self-centered motivations, greed and hate. He had called it ‘hustling’ then, but now he saw that he had ju
st become a prisoner within a cell of his own making.
Walters knew that he deserved to be a prisoner to a dead man. It was only fitting.
The one person he truly loved, the one person who had given up so much for him, who had never given up on the hope that one day he would be a good man, was his mother, and now she was a prisoner whose only release could be paid for by Thomas’ own incarceration.
Two-time Tommy had become a lifer; a dead man walking.
For the first time in his miserable life came the thought of redemption. But which path would lead him to that mythic realm? Should he further the will of evil in order to save the life of a just woman? Or should he sacrifice a righteous woman by refusing to do something that he had been molded to do?
Confusion was another form of prison and Thomas rotted in them all.
The Lich laughed. “I thought the decision would be easy, but I see that this woman means nothing to you. Very well, I will flay the flesh from her bones and play the nerves of her spinal cord like a lute and see if she screams on key.”
Thomas raised his head and looked at the Lich. “I will serve you,” he spat angrily. “Goddamn you. I’ll serve you.”
“Serve me…what?” asked the Lich, looking at him with an air of superiority.
“My Lord…I will serve you well, my Lord.”
“That is much better.” The Lich turned to the old woman who gaped at them and groaned softly. “You may go now, my dear.” The old dead woman in thin house coat and orthopedic shoes walked away from them in a stumbling uncoordinated gait, the ravaged refugee swaying right to left as she walked.
The general looked into the pool of water as his reflection rippled before him like a dream sequence in a cheap television show. It would be the last time he saw his own face.