by Tyler Lahey
“My god. What are you even doing? Look I’m sorry it turned out like this. I obviously never intended for it to. But you can’t do this.”
“Why, because it confuses you?”
“No! Not even! Because…Just stop. And if Jaxton ever finds you doing something like this, especially how he is now, he’s likely to shoot you.”
“That’s the other thing. How can you stand by and watch this barbarism go on? Are you ok with this? We’re all going to die. And the infected are going to have nothing to do with it.”
Adira set her jaw angrily. “No one fucking asked Jax to run the show. He’s the one they look to, of their own accord.”
Bennett guffawed. “Please. We both know Jaxton. He wants to be in command, he needs it.”
She was breathing deeply. A moment of anxious silence lingered between them, as the shadows bounced off the sputtering torch.
Finally, she spoke. “You’re like a child, greedy and scared.” She exhaled. “I don’t like this violence between us all any more than you. Jaxton just needs to calm down. He will calm down. I need to go, Bennett.” Adira’s steel-tipped boots snapped briskly on the tile.
She heard his voice following her. “If you think you will be able to change his mind, you’re a fool.” She slammed open the door, far harder than she would have liked.
…
“Boys. What are you doing up here?”
Jaxton approached the silent pair, perched perilously atop the third story clock tower overlooking the main driveway. The American flag was absent, as he had ordered.
Duke and Wilder sat four feet apart, their typically boisterous humor gone. Duke shivered in his heavy sweatshirt. Their rifles had been left haphazardly a few feet away.
“You wont be much use on night watch without your guns.”
Jaxton received no response. He took a seat calmly, in between them, content to feel the cool breeze cutting into his light jacket for just a moment.
Jaxton felt lonely on the roof, above the world. “I’m still not used to seeing zero lights. It’s eerie.” The expanse that stretched before him was vast and cold.
“I wonder. I wonder what other intelligent life, if they’re watching us, would make of all this.” Jaxton said, looking skyward. He swept his arms in grandiose fashion, in an unworthy attempt to encapsulate the trillion pixels that burned furiously against that lonely tapestry.
Wilder snorted. His eyes were red, Jaxton could see in the moonlight.
“It would make for an interesting zoo,” Jaxton continued. He rubbed his hands together. “And we were just getting smart, and now nature has done this to us. What… a… cunt.”
There was a lingering silence. To Jaxton’s relief, Duke spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Are you drunk?”
Jaxton exhaled deeply in response. “No. No I’m not. No. But…. it’s hard not to think about the big picture after seeing… her, lying there in the field. And it makes me wonder if this infection will be the end of us. I don’t think it will be,” he said, finishing firmly.
“The odds are against us.” Wilder sniffled miserably.
“There has to be other life out there, above us. There are billions of stars just like our sun. Billions. It makes it all a little more bearable, huh.”
“Not really,” Wilder spat. “And if there are so many other stars, so many….worlds, where are they? Shouldn’t there be, I don’t know, millions of them? Shouldn’t some of them have reached out to us in the span of history?”
Duke removed his hood. “That’s the Fermi Paradox,” he mumbled.
“Huh?”
Jaxton felt the melancholy steal through him in the darkness. “That’s right. He’s right. But there are quite a few answers that explain that question.”
“Is that so,” Wilder sneered.
“Of course my friend. They could have already visited us, for starters,” Jaxton spoke softly.
Wilder spat a wad of saliva over the railing, watching it float to the concrete below. “Sounds like a stupid conspiracy theory.”
“Alright, granted. We could also be living in a totally isolated part of the galaxy. We’re too far out for anyone to stumble upon us.”
“Is that one supposed to make me feel any better?” Wilder grimaced. He looked exhausted.
“I know one that will cheer you up. The reason we never hear from any other life species is because there are horrifically powerful predator species that exterminate all species before they become too advanced, for their own protection. But now….if that species were to take a look at our planet, they would see nothing and be on their merry way.” Jaxton finished in a breath, not quite sure what he was supposed to be saying. His mind was restless, and he was nervous- he just needed to talk.
Wilder broke out into hoarse, bitter laughter. “You sure know how to cheer a man up, chief. Alright what else do you have for me?”
Jaxton couldn’t help but smile a fraction. “Well, there’s also the idea that we’re already being watched. Like I said before- a zoo.”
“Is that so?” Wilder stood and waved his arms, screaming at the top of his lungs. “HELLO! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME!? NOW IS A GOOD TIME TO COME HELP, YOU FUCKERS!”
Even Duke couldn’t help but chuckle.
Wilder began to stagger off. “I need to go.”
The pair watched his form disappear into the night. Jaxton spoke without making eye contact. “How is he?”
“He’s not good. Not good.”
“You need to be there for him, Duke. I’m counting on you.”
“That might be difficult, Jax. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m a coward.”
Jaxton stared, willing his gaze to prod Duke into continuing. It did.
Duke groaned lightly. “They came at us so fast, all with hand weapons… rusted, brutal axes and scythes and shit like I told you before. I’m not guna lie man. I pretty much ran right away. What the fuck was I supposed to do?”
Jaxton paused, weighing his next words carefully. “You were right to run.”
“I…” Duke faltered, his voice wavering. “I let you down. I didn’t try to protect them, not Tessa, not Adira. Elvis is the only one who acted… selflessly.”
Jaxton laid his callused hand on a soft shoulder, as Duke continued. “Elvis, he lead them away. Attacked them and lead them away. That was courage.”
“I don’t know what happened. But I do know that being without fear in the face of near certain death isn’t bravery. It’s insanity.”
“I can’t stop thinking about how white, how white her spine was.”
“I know. Neither can I.”
“Just in the moonlight there, in the middle of her neck. My god. Someone came at her in the grass with a hatchet. I-“
“Enough. Enough. Let’s go back down. I’ll send up another group to man the roof” Jaxton rose.
“I’m going to stay a while.”
Jaxton nodded, and took a step closer to the ladder in the roof.
Duke spoke low and quiet. “Jax. You were giving all the answers, as to how there are still other forms of life. Ways that we might share the universe with others and just not know it. Do you know the other answer to the Fermi Paradox?”
Jaxton did not.
“Humanity is alone.”
…
“Five of the others are refusing to help.”
“Who?”
“The ones in his crew. They just refuse to partake, but they’re coming along.”
Jaxton eyed the crowd in the light rain. They huddled under the metal awning in a mass, all fifty survivors. Some eyed him with disdain, while others nodded confidently in mute greeting. Universally, they clutched the slick metal and wooden stocks of their hunting rifles and shotguns, with firm hands.
“We’ll see it done Liam. They’ll come around,” Jax promised his friend.
Jaxton could feel her touch, even through his brown jacket. Adira’s dark hair was matted to her head, and in the rain, she looked so fragile. “Jaxton. There has to be a bet
ter way to do this. They’re going to cut his head off, seeing what they did to the others.”
Jaxton tucked a revolver into his belt and swept his soaking long hair back. “No. We’ve already discussed this. We need to find out who those people, if they are still human, are…and Terrence needs to be punished. Two birds, one stone.”
She laid her hand on his chest. “He still hasn’t admitted to stealing that gas.”
“Of course he hasn’t. He’s a fucking brute,” Harley hissed. Her hands worked quickly to check the bolt on her rifle before slamming it back into place. She had spent hours mastering it on their makeshift range. Liam eyed her warily.
“Do you really see him doing something like that?” Adira ignored Harley, staring intently at Jaxton instead. “Is he really the type to not admit something? The Terrence I know and hate gloats and boasts at every opportunity,” she pleaded.
“Why are you wasting so much time trying to defend him?” Harley quipped.
Adira rounded on her. Their eyes met at equal height. “Because the minute we start making arbitrary judgments is the minute they start deciding they might be better off without us.” Her gloved hand flicked lightly to encompass all the survivors.
Harley looked to Jaxton, whose beard was now dripping with moisture. “I’m all in. Give me the word,” she demanded.
“We’re going to use half the reserves of gasoline just to get everyone out there!” Adira lamented.
“We need a show of force, Adira. If they still possess any intelligence, we need…whoever or whatever those things are… to see our group at full strength. We take no chances. Not anymore.” Jaxton stepped in front of the crowd, the rain now coming down in steady sheets.
“Mount up! Let’s move. Stick to the plan!”
The figures moved in the rain, leaping into the backs of pickup trucks and onto ATVs.
Adira didn’t move. “I’m not going, Jaxton. I’m going to be praying for you to come back, but I’m not going.”
“I forgive you,” Jaxton said quietly, unable to hide his relief. His eyes were unexpectedly soft. He clasped her to him tightly. “Look after the place for me, then.”
She wanted to grip him back, but she relented.
A guttural chorus of oil-fueled power erupted all along the bristling 12-vehicle line.
Terrence flashed a conniving grin as Jaxton strode to him. “Are you really so afraid you need to keep me all tied up?” He held out his meaty bound hands in subjugation. “And I see the queen stays.” His greedy eyes glanced back to Adira, who stood alone just out of earshot.
Jaxton ignored the hulking form. “Duke, Wilder. He’s all yours. Keep your weapons on him till we get to the field.” The pair of younger men nodded fiercely. Wilder drew the metal baton and prodded Terrence into the back-cab of their largest pickup truck. Another man approached, his pale face covered in patchy facial hair. Jaxton had seen him before, with Terrence. “You. You get in another truck.”
The pasty man sneered, his breathing expelling fog in the cold afternoon air. “As you wish.” He seated himself just behind the black pickup, on a large ATV.
Jaxton surveyed the convoy. The black pickup would be at the center of the column, flanked by two ATVs, with men he had hand-picked. These wore goggles and facemasks. He scanned the faces around him and recognized several he had seen with Terrence before, and suddenly there was Jaxton’s oldest friend: doubt.
“You’re worried about him making an escape,” Jaxton heard behind him.
Bennett had a paltry excuse for a beard, Jaxton noticed with admittedly juvenile pleasure. But he needed friends, now more than ever. “Perhaps I am.”
Bennett reached out, and for the first time in months, clasped his old friend’s arm. “Let us ride with him. We’ll keep him secure.”
Jaxton opened his mouth, shocked into silence. He had never expected to find help here.
Bennett held up his other hand, and his blue eyes were frosty. “You think I hate you. That couldn’t be further from the truth. It took me a while to get over Adira, but it’s water under the bridge, man. I saw Tessa, lying there. We’ll leave the debate for the police till later. We need to stick together to survive,” he urged.
Jaxton found his own pulse quickening in excitement. He couldn’t bring himself to deny the olive branch, though there was a something in the intensity of that icy blue gaze that frightened him. It was nothing. Jaxton extended his hand, and in a clap the two friends pledged fealty to each other once more.
They grinned together. “It’s been too long. I thought I’d lost you.”
“Death or glory, remember?”
Jaxton chuckled, and clasped his hunting rifle. “You finally have your chance.”
Bennett laughed. “Fuck that. I want to live.”
“That’s more like it.” Jaxton entered the lead pickup truck, a rusted blue relic from the late 1970s, and gripped the rubber wheel with slick hands. “Put one of those cassettes on Liam, I’m fucking nervous.”
Chapter Eight
By the time they cleared the Cathedral, the sky was alight with the gods’ displeasure. Sonic booms and cracks of hidden lightning chilled the war-party to the bone. The rain came down in relentless sheets. Liam felt the fear roiling in his stomach. He checked his weapons again, and again, repeating the same tasks in a desperate attempt to calm his fraying nerves. The stories that circulated around camp ran through his mind, unstoppable. The foe were great beasts of men who only used rusted melee weapons, and barely spoke or made noise! The women were even more blood-thirsty, and even more silent as they killed!
Liam didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be doing this. Leave them alone, whoever they were, he had argued. We encroached on their land. We have enough to worry about. The others had shouted him down. Even Harley. She sat in the front of the cab, chatting eagerly about the strategy with the others. She made him anxious. Harley had found that with a little help from modern weaponry, she could protect herself. Liam felt useless most of the time, and he hated it.
Fourteen slugs for the shotgun. Tighten the strap a bit. One clip for the pistol. Keep the safety on till we get there. Loosen the strap a bit. Wait, it was thirteen slugs for the shotgun. One clip for the pistol. Safety was still on, good. Thirteen slugs for the shotgun. Safety on till we get there. One clip for the pistol.
The pickup eased to a stop. There was the field. Safety off.
The war-party eased to a quiet stop just across from the dirt road. They left the vehicles in the grove of bare oak trees. Despite the earlier orders, there was audible, nervous conversation among the warriors in the rain. Jaxton did his best to silence them, and ordered them forward. Five stayed to protect the transports.
Liam breathed a little easier with his large hands on the shotgun. He dropped to his stomach, and began to crawl. He could hear the others in the grass to his sides and rear. His sweatshirt and jeans became soiled, and soaked. Little stalks of grass flicked him in the face constantly as he advanced under the gray sky. He remembered the plan. He heard a hiss, and spun his pale face around. Bennett indicated the grass. Liam had dropped his shells. “Fuck,” he grumbled.
By the time Liam caught up to the others, they were in position. The leaders huddled around Jaxton, who crouched low in the brown tides of wet grass. He was whispering to Bennett. The others were fanning out to the left and right. Harley was nowhere to be seen.
There was the advance party, standing up. It was Bennett, Joseph clutching his bow, Leeroy, Duke, and Wilder. Terrence was at the fore, his hands still tied. The others spread out slightly, and prodded the brute forward with the barrels of their rifles. Liam could see the black, wet mass of trees ahead, just barely. Terrence was walking forward, towards the trees. The others were hanging back. Where was Jaxton?
He found himself counting the stalks in front of his face. What was going on? Liam looked to his left, and saw a girl armed with a huge revolver, its shiny frame glistening with water-droplets. She shrugged. Why the fuck wa
s everyone so damn calm?
There. A voice. Terrence was yelling something, but his voice was not laced with panic. Liam got off his stomach, and braced his burning legs in an uncomfortable crouch. Cursing his own impatience, he risked a glance among the stalks. He could make out Terrence, a stone’s throw to his front. He was speaking at something in the tree line, but the rain muddled his words.
He came up, just a bit more. Just inside the tree line, the savages stood in a rigid line. There was something…off…about them, but Liam couldn’t put his finger on it. Their vacant-eyed women wore strange arrangements of worn, no doubt once-glorious dresses that now clung to their emaciated frames. Beside these creatures stood the men, bearded with heavy hands and limbs. These were people who had worked in the factory all their lives, and eked out a living here among the hills for generations. And yet they bore weapons; axes and mauls, hammers and shovels, all rusted to a dark red. Their slack-jawed expressions and empty eyes showed no comprehension of Terrence’s words, even as he drew within ten feet of them. They had to be infected.
Liam felt a wave of terror, and froze. One of them was looking at him. Straight at him. He was bearded man in his middle years with a wife beater that threatened to burst at the belly-line, where it was stained yellow.
The bearded man made no reaction. Suddenly a shot rang out at the fore, from someone in the advance party.
Liam wiped his eyes, and saw the woods-people were running into the field at full speed, straight towards him.
“Oh, Fuck.”
To his immediate left, Jaxton rose from the waist-high grass, his rifle at the ready. Liam stood too. As the rifles began to crack and snap all down the line, his eyes were drawn to motion before him. There was an altercation, a blur of moment, between Terrence and Bennett in the grass just ahead. They were down low, moving together. And suddenly Terrence was free, his hands, unbound. He turned straight around and bolted past Liam.
“Wait!” Liam managed to shout. But it was no use. When he turned back to the front, the savages were charging through the tempest. Liam raised his Moss-Berg as his heart pounded, pumping the intoxication of fear through him. The pot-bellied man was in his sights, his hatchet raised. Liam fired, knowing he would die like Tessa if he didn’t. The slug hit his target through the chest, blowing a hole six inches wide. Liam felt his heart would burst from shock. He saw Harley take careful aim with her sniper rifle and then heard it crack loudly. Looking to his left and right, he saw his friends doing the same, pumping round after round into the charging maniacs, who remained stubbornly silent as they were cut down. Within seconds however, they had changed tactics. They dropped low into the grass, and disappeared.