Undead Worlds 2: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Anthology

by Authors, Various

  About Joshua C. Chadd

  Joshua is a Jesus Freak and follower of the Way. As an adventurous nerd, he loves the outdoors and when he is not found high in the mountains of Alaska, he can be observed living on the rolling plains of eastern Montana with his wife, guns and two katanas. He has a passion for all things imaginary and finds inspiration in the wilderness, away from all the distractions of life. Some of his other passions include hunting, shooting, board and video games, hard rock, movies, reading and the Walking Dead.

  7

  Dominion

  by R. L. Blalock

  A Story of Death & Decay

  Day 26

  7:38 pm

  Elsy’s eyes fluttered open. Her vision was blurry. She blinked rapidly trying to clear it.

  Where am I?

  The room was dark but slowly came into focus. It was empty. No furniture. No decorations. Light trickled in the window, illuminating her surroundings. Elsy cringed. The beige carpet beneath her was dirty. Stains had turned it into a mottled mess. Some were darker than others. She didn’t want to think about what they might be.

  Her arms ached as she tried to move but couldn’t. Snapped from the foggy haze that had clouded her mind, Elsy thrashed against her bonds. Her arms were bound and tethered to the wall above her head and her feet had been tied together.

  Where was Vincent? Her heart leaped as she struggled again. He wasn’t here with her. Where could he be?

  Elsy sucked in a deep breath. Panicking wouldn’t do her any good.

  She looked down at her clothes. Her black and white polka dot dress was dirty. It had been dirty before, but it looked dirtier. There was blood on it. Was it her blood? Her black Prada pumps were missing from her feet and she fumed at the loss of her favorite shoes.

  With a huff, she shrugged off the lost shoes. The world was full of free shoes. Right now, she had to focus on getting out and finding Vincent. She had to think. How had she gotten here? What time was it?

  The blinds were drawn on the window, but the light coming through was tinted the deep red of dusk. It had been almost a full day.

  What had she been doing? What was the last thing she could remember?

  Her mind was still muddled by the haziness of sleep. She had been walking. She had stopped somewhere. Where? A gas station? That sounded right. But what had happened after she stopped. She had locked Vincent in the bathroom so he wouldn’t wander while she slept. Could he still be there?

  She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. A woman had happened upon the same gas station. She had started to leave…but she hadn’t left. She had stayed.

  Footsteps echoed from outside. Elsy quickly shifted back and forth, looking for her weapons. She had dozens that she carried. Knives. Guns. A baseball bat. A hammer. A screwdriver and a few others she had found handy, but they were all gone. Her backpack of supplies was gone as well.

  The footsteps stopped outside her door. The voices that accompanied them were solemn. Elsy turned her body toward the door as best as she could, plastering a broad sparkling smile across her face.

  The door opened, light from the setting sun burning her eyes after being in the dark for so long. Reluctantly, Elsy turned away when she could no longer bear the light. After a moment to adjust, she turned back.

  A man stood in the doorway. His dark brown hair was slicked back making him look like a sleazy car salesman. His round face was lit with a broad smile that created small creases around his eyes and mouth. He wore a pristine white robe with a dark scarlet sash around his neck though he looked far too young to be a priest or a minister.

  “Good,” the man’s voice boomed through the room again, making Elsy’s head throb. “You’re awake. Welcome to God’s Kingdom. The folks around here call me Father Neal.”

  The man’s jovial manner already made Elsy despise him. It was the same as her smile. Fake.

  “I’m afraid I’m not feeling too well though.”

  The man smiled down at her the way a father smiled at a child who had said something silly. She wanted to wipe that smile right off his face. “No, I imagine not. Roofies are a nasty drug, my dear.”

  The memory came flooding back. The woman had shared applesauce with her at the gas station. As they chatted, she had offered Elsy one of the small individually portioned containers. It had still been sealed, but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been tampered with. Elsy chided herself for taking anything from a stranger.

  “Where’s my friend?” Her voice cracked though she already knew the answer. Her mouth was dry and her throat suddenly felt like it was lined with sandpaper. She didn’t want to ask about the woman. She wanted to ask about Vincent. But if they hadn’t found him, it was better if they didn’t know about him.

  “Oh, she’s fine.” Father Neal waved away her concerns. “You seem like a smart girl. I’m sure you figured out already that she is the one who brought you here.” Elsy’s eyes narrowed. The man took a few steps forward, crouching down beside her. “But don’t worry your pretty little head about it, my dear. The woes of this world are no longer a concern of yours.” The man patted her leg reassuringly. Elsy didn’t flinch from his touch. She wouldn’t allow him to see any sign of fear. “You have a grand purpose now.” His eyes lit up with a manic fervor. “You have been chosen to save us all.”

  “Why don’t you let me go? I can’t save anyone. Not even myself apparently.” Elsy let out a soft tinkling laugh, one that she had practiced to perfection, at her own self-deprecating joke. She had spent years smiling and laughing, even when the act felt like it would rip her in two. It was the price she paid for the life she had lived. This was no different.

  “That is not how it works, my dear. God has chosen you and you alone. Your sacrifice will protect the rest of us from the dead rising out of the bowels of Hell. By feeding the dead, we are doing God’s will. It is for the greater good. You will be a hero.” The fiery glint in his eyes made the man look unhinged.

  Elsy spat in his face, the saliva hitting his cheek. “God has nothing to do with what you are doing.”

  The man stood, calmly wiped the spit from his cheek. “My dear, I am the Lord’s messenger. I am charged with caring for his children and saving as many as I can. You may not understand, but that’s all right. It makes no difference whether you understand or not.”

  “Is that what you’re doing? Saving people?” Elsy cackled. The maniacal laugh a stark contrast from the pleasant lilt before.

  “Not everyone can be saved, but I will save all of those who are truly worthy.” Sadness filled his eyes. “Sometimes the needs of the many must outweigh the needs of one. This time, unfortunately, that one is you.”

  A giggle escaped Elsy’s lips. “And how can you save them, Neal?”

  The man sneered when she referred to him only by his first name. “When man has sinned, God demands repentance. Sometimes that means a sacrifice.”

  A snarl curled Elsy’s dark red lips. “You’re killing off the other survivors you find. That’s how you think you’ll find repentance with God. You are not a man of God. You are a monster.”

  “You may think so, my dear, but I am not worried about your judgment.” Father Neal took the last few steps toward the door, pulling it closed behind him and leaving Elsy in darkness.

  Elsy didn’t care for people. Not anymore. Not even really before. People were just as monstrous as the infected, but she had never brought harm on someone who didn’t attack her first. She loathed those who had used the chaos of the outbreak for their own personal gain.

  The same type of people who had brought a horde down upon her beautiful home and left her trapped. Left her to die. Left the only other person she truly cared about to die. Left Vincent to die.

  She had survived those horrific days and she was going to survive this one. And when she walked out, the first thing she would do is feed the holy traitor to the infected. Piece by piece.

  Day 28

  5:43 am

  Elsy’s eyes
hurt. She wanted to sleep, but she refused to let herself. She wouldn’t be taken off guard again.

  She had pulled on her bonds until her wrists bled and then continued pulling. The blood that slowly dripped down her arms had dried hours ago. Her wrists burned and her arms ached from the unnatural position. Her stomach rumbled in angry protest to its emptiness. Yet, none of it bothered her. If there was one thing she had learned before the outbreak, it was discipline.

  The sky outside the window had only just begun to lighten when footsteps echoed outside the door again. These were different than Father’s. They were light and quick. The door opened just a crack at first before a girl stepped in, a large soup pot clutched between her hands. She was young. Perhaps fifteen or sixteen. She could have actually been younger. The fight for survival had aged everyone beyond their years, even children.

  “Father Neal sent me to get you cleaned up.” The girl’s words were barely above a whisper. Her hair fell into her face as she kept her eyes on the ground.

  “Why does it matter?” Elsy said with a sigh, leaning her head back against the wall again. “You’re monsters. You’re just going to feed me to the infected anyway. They don’t care if their food is clean or dirty.”

  “We aren’t monsters!” the girl almost shouted. Elsy eyed the girl up and down, she seemed meek but something was bubbling just beneath the surface. Anger? Despair?

  “I forgive you…for your cruel words.” The girl’s voice was quiet once again. “You just don’t understand.”

  The girl kneeled beside Elsy, setting down the large pot she had been carrying. The water inside sloshed back and forth, a rag rolling around the small waves. The girl reached in and rung out the rag. Gently, she wiped the blood off of Elsy’s arms. Each stroke was soft and she carefully tended to the swollen irritated skin on Elsy’s wrists.

  “I understand why you think we’re monsters,” the girl said, her voice soft and hesitant.

  “The world is dying and your feeding the last of the survivors to the dead. I have no idea why I should think that.” Her words were sharp despite her calm demeanor. The girl flinched but didn’t deny the accusations. She nibbled on her lip as she worked, continuing to gently clean Elsy’s skin. As the silence grew heavier, Elsy could see the emotions warring on the girl’s face. Pain. Anger. Fear. Guilt.

  “We wouldn’t do this just for anyone,” she finally whispered.

  “Then who would you do this for?” Elsy wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. Everyone had a sob story now. Everyone had lost someone. Everyone had been hurt. Everyone had struggled. Everyone had some way to justify any terrible thing they wanted to do, but her curiosity had always been voracious.

  Before the outbreak, she had satisfied that curiosity by taking up many hobbies. She hadn’t practiced them all regularly, but she had taken them up at one time or another just to know how to do it. Horse back riding. Tennis. Ju-jitsu. Fencing. Archery. Even rugby for a while, but that hadn’t stuck long. She hadn’t liked the way the bruises marred her flawless skin.

  “My mother.” Unshed tears shone bright in the girl’s eyes and she swallowed a few times before continuing. “Father Neal says that God sent the plague to us because we had lost our way. That we must return to the old ways or we will be cursed like them. But if we are devout, if we make sacrifices, maybe God will see fit to bless us and spare us the same fate as our loved ones.”

  The girl reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it tenderly, careful not to tear the heavily creased page. In her hand was a picture. Her mother had an arm around the girl and the girl wore the forced smile teenagers presented when photos were demanded. A typical family picture.

  Tears rolled down the girl’s cheeks as she gazed at the photo. She looked like a younger version of her mother. The same strong cheekbones and soft brown eyes. The same jet-black hair. They even had the same body structure.

  “Honey.” It was all Elsy could say. She wasn’t quite old enough to be this girl’s mother but almost. The girl looked so lost. So broken. She couldn’t imagine what this child must be going through now, though. The world had changed suddenly and violently and now she was alone. “Would your mother want you to do this for her?” she finally asked.

  The girl didn’t answer. She didn’t even twitch. Elsy was fairly certain that the answer was no. No good parent would want their child to inflict pain on others in their name. She could only guess based off the picture but she felt confident in her answer.

  “My son would not want me to do this for him.” Elsy’s voice was soft. “He would never want this.”

  The girl’s head snapped up. “Your son?”

  “Vincent.” She could still see the happy little boy that climbed into her bed to snuggle in the morning. The little boy that liked to read stories with his mother. The little boy that made her drawings of the two of them. The little boy whose blood had covered her hands when the infected had ripped him to shreds. The little boy she still led around with her, in hopes that one day she could find him a cure.

  “What happened to him?” The girl’s words were cautious.

  “The same thing that happens to everyone now.” The two sat in silence for a long while as the words settled around them.

  “He’s lying to you,” Elsy said firmly, staring hard at the girl. “The infected. They aren’t lost. But they don’t need to be saved by God. They need a cure. Medicine.”

  The girl let out a long breath but held her silence. Her eyes roved Elsy up and down as if searching for any physical signs of a trick.

  “It’s the virus that turns them into monsters but a cure might be able to turn them back. They don’t need God, they need doctors and medicine.”

  “We don’t have doctors and medicine anymore.” The girl stood, gathering her rag and pot. “Those luxuries were taken away with the outbreak. Just like everything else. All we have left is prayer and sacrifice.”

  “We have each other,” Elsy pushed. She knew she couldn’t push the girl too hard, but she knew she had gotten under her skin.

  The girl stopped at the door, her hand resting on the knob. “I’ll pray for you. That your end comes swiftly and you do not suffer.”

  “Don’t.” Elsy’s voice hardened. “Say a prayer that Neal meets his end before I get a hold of him.” The girl’s lips pressed into a thin line and she pulled the door closed behind her.

  Elsy rested her head back against the wall, imagining the look on his face when she walked away from whatever he had planned for her. The shock and horror.

  The fear.

  She didn’t have to be afraid of him or the dead, but he should be afraid of her. She would dethrone him before he could beg the Lord for mercy.

  Day 28

  10:00 am

  The door burst open unceremoniously. Late morning light spilled in, burning Elsy’s eyes.

  “Your time of judgment has come, my dear.” Father Neal filled the doorway, a mere shadow against the light.

  “As has yours, I suppose.” Elsy smirked.

  “You sure are full of yourself,” he sneered back at her. “Pride is a deadly sin, my dear.”

  “You would know.” Elsy set her steely gaze on the man.

  “Take her to the reckoning,” Father Neal snarled. Two other large men entered the room, heaving her up by her aching arms. Elsy didn’t struggle against them as they marched her out of the room. Instead, she matched their long strides, holding her head high. With every step, she defied him. She would not beg. She would not cry.

  She didn’t need to.

  Outside, she stole glances at her surroundings. They were in a motel. One of the crummy ones that lay right off the highway. The outside was dirtier than the inside of her room. The entire place was run down and probably had been long before the outbreak.

  Elsy caught one of the guards staring at her and flashed a smile at him. The man quickly turned away. She loved making men nervous. She always had.

 
The guards marched her down the road. A crowd was gathered outside of the large warehouse next to the motel. Father Neal stood at a makeshift pulpit on a hastily erected stage.

  He beamed at Elsy as the guards pushed her up the few steps. All the eyes of the crowd turned towards her. Elsy surveyed the crowds, taking in the hopeful fervent faces that stared up at her.

  Could these people be saved? Or were they too far gone into Father’s madness?

  “The Lord has blessed us today!” Father Neal’s voice boomed joyously over the crowd. “He has brought to us an exceptional sacrifice. One who faces her fate with dignity and grace. Behold, our blessed sacrifice.” The crowd rippled as the congregation clasped their hands together in thanks and murmured cheers.

  “We have been tried and tested this past month,” Father Neal said solemnly. “But our Father has always tested the faithful. Only those who persevere through the worst of times will be rewarded. And we have persevered!” he shouted triumphantly.

  “Praise him!” a woman shouted from the crowd.

  “Our faith has not been shaken. Our faith has only grown stronger!” he bellowed. “We, the righteous, have seen the flaws in man and we seek to correct them. We have returned to the ways of God. We have humbled ourselves before Him. Put our faith in Him. He has not abandoned us and today we have been rewarded.” Father Neal gestured to Elsy enthusiastically. “A sacrifice that recognizes her sinful ways. That recognizes her need for redemption through sacrifice. Who offers herself to God so that we, the faithful, may be blessed.” He paused looking out at the crowd as they clung to his every word. “Today is the day that God smiles upon us. Today is the day of our redemption. Praise Him!”