by Lee Deadkeys
Annie stood in the middle of the stairs, stooped so she could look in, her face ashen. “Jessica, your father says to come quick. All of you, and bring weapons. Boys, you stay here and look after your sister.” Annie turned toward the top of the steps and helped Alex past her, pushing her gently past Sam. Her tone was firm but calm, a mother’s tone to express seriousness to the adults without causing alarm to her children.
Sam turned to her, “What—” he started to ask but Annie held up a hand to silence him.
“Just come.”
Jess scrambled off Mason and reached for the AR-15 standing at the head of her cot. Her handgun was already strapped to her hip. Mason felt around under his cot as the others ran for the stairs. He cursed his carelessness as his hand passed through empty air, finding nothing more than a few dust-bunnies.
He sat up, reached for his boots and pulled them on before spotting the carbine wedged between his bed and the shelves of food. Listening intently for sounds of trouble, he made his way up the stairs and into the main room.
Frank sat on an ottoman near the front door, his bolt action rifle rested on the windowsill, the barrel protruding through a small slit cut into the screen.
“What is it, Dad?” Jess asked as she looked through the window beside the fireplace. Mason moved behind Frank and tried to follow the direction of the rifle. Frank pointed to an area beyond the stand of boulders.
“Listen,” Frank said.
“Somebody’s coming,” Annie said and pointed. “Look at the dust kicking up on the road.” Mason followed her finger and quickly found the long brown cloud moving in their direction. He watched for a moment and then heard an engine working its way over the nearly impassible road.
“Let’s get outside. They’ll have to wonder how many more we have inside.” Ox said.
“I’ll go down with the kids,” Annie said. “Maybe I should close up the false wall with the guns and close the trapdoor after me.”
Frank nodded. “Good idea. Stay out of sight for now.”
The vehicle was closer now, the engine straining as it became bogged down in sand. Mason could see an occasional glint of chrome through the gaps in the boulders. They all watched the road, waiting for the truck to emerge.
It took them off guard when the truck, engine roaring, jumped a rise and came up directly in front of them. The driver braked as soon as he saw the boulders looming in front of him, but his speed combined with the loose soil caused the truck to slide sideways, stopping inches from the face of the rock.
Every gun on the porch went up. Ox and Sam took a step forward as the cloud of dust caught up with the truck and temporarily hid the driver from view.
“Don’t shoot! For Christ’s sake, don’t shoot!”
“Get out, hands up!” Frank yelled, coughing on the last word as the dust moved past him.
“I’m opening the door, getting out. My hands are up. Don’t shoot. I have a woman with me.” A man in western wear, complete with a leather six-gun rig slung low on his hips, stepped forward. His hands shook but his eyes held steady. He was probably around six-foot-tall but his legs were so bowed that he appeared shorter. His salt and pepper hair stuck up all over in a poor Einstein imitation.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Jess yelled and the bowlegged man looked directly at her when he answered.
“Name’s Rudy Prescott. The lady in the passenger seat is my sister, Rhonda.” Rudy continued eye contact with Jess. “We mean no harm. Do you think you folks could lower your weapons, just a bit?”
Mason looked to Frank, who nodded his consent. They lowered their weapons to a less threatening angle.
“This is private property. Why’d you come here? How’d you know about this place?” Jess asked.
“I did most of the work on this place for old man Walker. He said if, and when, the shit hit the fan, that me and mine would be welcome here.”
“That doesn’t sound like my grandpa at all. He hated people, and strangers most of all.”
Rudy shifted his weight from one curved leg to the other. “He said you’d say that. Might you be Frank Walker?” Rudy asked, turning his cool blue eyes on Frank. Frank nodded again. “He told me to tell you something if ever this was to happen, said it would be enough for you to let us stay.”
“Well, what is it?” Jess asked.
“He told me to remind you of the rabbits. He said that’d mean something to you.” Rudy said and waited. Frank’s eyes widened slightly. He took a step forward and let his rifle swing against his leg.
“That mean ole cuss,” Frank said, shaking his head and laughing softly. “You can stay. Come on in.” He turned and walked toward the front door.
“Wait, what? What does that mean? What rabbits?” Jess turned to follow her father’s progress to the door. “Damn it, Dad, stop!” Frank stopped and looked back at the Prescott man.
“We’re limited on space below. You two can bunk in the main room. Get what gear you have and settle in.”
“Much obliged,” Rudy said.
Jess followed Frank into the main room. “Dad,” she said as Frank began pushing what was left of the ratty furniture to the corners of the room. “Look, I’m not trying to be typical Jess, I’m really not,” she lowered her voice. “Okay, you guys were right about taking in that woman and her kids, it was the right thing to do. But these other people?” Frank paused as he wrestled the threadbare couch into the corner.
“That woman?”
Jess threw her hands up, sighing loudly. “Come on, Dad, cut me some slack. Annie, okay? You were right about Annie.” She paced the floor a few times, hands on hips. “What do you want from me? Isn’t it enough that I’m trying?”
Frank straightened and went to her. “I know this seems rash and probably a bit reckless, taking in these people, but I made a promise to your grandfather and I have to honor that. You see that, don’t you?” Frank watched her move to the door and stare out at the Prescotts as they unloaded supplies from the backseat of the truck.
“I loved Gramps, but he’s not here now. This may sound cruel, but I don’t care about promises to the dead. I only care about us. Annie and the kids are part of us now and, like I said before, that was the right thing to do. But what scares the shit out of me is we are going to end up dead, and the charity cases we’ve picked up are going to survive by feeding off our kind and compassionate carcasses.” Jess turned back to him, “And that just can’t happen.”
Frank moved beside her. He was quiet for a time, watching Ox and Mason talk with the newcomers as they unloaded gear and collecting his thoughts.
“I know I snapped back there when that young boy killed himself.” Jess started to say something but Frank cut her off. “But we saved the girl, we saved Alex,” he said. “We made a promise to Annie and we kept it. Now, I’ll probably see that boy’s face for the rest of my days, but I can’t dwell on that. We must save the ones we can, Jess. We have to.”
Jess was quiet long enough for Frank to glance at her, concerned. She stood with brows furrowed in thought, the corners of her mouth turned down. Frank wondered if he should say something more when she sighed and smiled slightly, “So what’s this about rabbits?”
“Help me with this and I’ll tell you.” Frank laughed and began cleaning up the scattered debris. “Your granddad kept rabbits when I was a boy.”
“As pets?” Jess asked.
“Oh, heavens no, for food and pelts. Anyway, I had to help with the butchering, and I hated it. All I saw was cute fuzzy bunnies being bludgeoned, their throats cut and skinned while still warm. It was awful. So, one night before an early morning butchering, I snuck out and opened the doors to the hutches.”
“You let them go? I bet gramps wasn’t happy about that.” Jess said righting a small table by the window.
Frank shook his head and huffed, “No. But I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I knew better than my old man.
“Dad woke me at daybreak. He was very calm and talked evenly wh
en he told me to get dressed and come outside. I thought I was in for the worst blistering of my life. He was waiting for me at the backdoor with a shotgun, and I thought at first, just how mad is he?”
“Wait, what?” Jess said. She looked shocked and horrified.
“Yes, exactly,” Frank laughed and went on. “He told me he knew what I’d done and that it was time to face the consequences. He opened the door and waved me out.”
Jess stopped cleaning and sat on the arm of the couch. “Jeez Dad, I didn’t know gramps was like that. What’d you do?”
“I went outside.”
“And—”
“And, it was horrible. Blood and fur everywhere. Five dogs, two of them ours, had found the rabbits. Some were dead in their hutches, some had gotten out, but these were domestic rabbits, they didn’t know to run and so they stayed near the hutches and were slaughtered.
“My dad hung back with the shotgun and let me take it all in. Then he said that this was my doing, that I did this. After a minute, he walked over and started shooting dogs. He shot our two first and got one of the strays before the other two snapped out of their bloodlust and took off.
“He made me sleep out at night for the next week. He said the other dogs would be back to finish off the rest of the rabbits, few that were left. He said he had to shoot them because they wouldn’t be able to stop once they’d tasted easy blood.”
“My God, gramps was kind of an asshole,” Jess said.
“Maybe. Maybe he was just great at teaching lessons. Anyway, he never spoke of it again, never teased me about it or anything. He said I could trust him to keep it between us, like a promise. So you see, it’s his way of telling me Mr. Prescott is OK, that he trusted him and that I should too.”
Jess closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly, before sighing heavily and looking at him, “Well, shit, fine. What can I say after a story like that? The more the merrier, right? Save the ones we can—” She shoved herself off the arm of the couch in exaggerated exasperation and smiled at him. “But promise me one thing, dad. While we’re busy saving people, let’s not end up like the rabbits, caught between a butcher’s blade and a pack of vicious dogs.
Frank smiled back at her, “You got it.”
Rudy and Rhonda made their way across the dusty yard. As they approached the porch, Rudy turned and surveyed the area.
“Have you had any strays out here yet, the big fat ones that explode?” Rudy asked.
“Not out here, not yet,” Frank said. “Do you expect we will?”
Rudy didn’t reply, didn’t seem to have heard the question. The others lingered near the porch, not sure of what to do.
“Mr. Prescott, do you thi—”
“I can’t even imagine what’s happening in the cities,” Rudy said. “Must be a nightmare.”
“You’ve seen it, the stuff inside them?” Mason asked.
The old man cast a glance at his sister. “Let’s just say we’ve had a close encounter, and leave it at that.” Rhonda looked uncomfortably at the ground.
“I really need to sit down, if you have someplace available,” she said, a small tremor in her voice.
Ox gently pushed his way to the porch and took the two small bags Rhonda held. “Right this way, Ma’am. We’ll get you fixed up fine. You hungry?”
Jess held up a hand, “How about you give us a little more information before we start breaking out the tea and crumpets?”
Frank sighed and patted Ox on the back. “Good idea, son. Get the young lady settled. Jessica and I will bring out some refreshments, and then we can get acquainted with Mr. Prescott.”
“I’ll take your bags, Mr. Prescott and bring out some chairs, Frank,” Mason said.
After a few minutes, Mason had lined the deck with a few chairs, a wobbly ottoman, and an old crate. Jess emerged from the house carrying a carafe of coffee and some stacked Styrofoam cups. She set the coffee on the crate and leaned against the hitching rail instead of sitting.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Rudy said and started looking around frantically. “No crumpets?” The men all laughed.
Jess lowered her head and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about all that, Mr. Prescott. You see, these fine men are trying to make a decent human being out of me. It appears to be an exercise in futility.”
Rudy took the carafe, poured a cup and then handed it to Jess. “I wouldn’t say that at all. Personally, I prefer a woman with some grit,” he said and winked. “But you must stop calling me Mr. Prescott. Rudy will do fine among friends.”
Jess blew on the coffee and sipped. “Thank you, Mr. uh, Rudy. Good to see someone appreciates some sand in a personality.”
Ox snorted, “In that case, I’m going to start calling you Mojave.” That got them laughing again and Jess kicked at him.
After a few moments, Frank refilled their cups.
“You know, people said your father was crazy for building this place,” Rudy said with a sly smile. “You don’t remember me, do you Frank?”
“Sorry, I don’t. My father and I weren’t exactly close when this place was going up.” Frank looked at his coffee. “I was one of the people that said he was crazy.”
“He did this all for you, you and his grandkids. Your father was a wise man, Frank, and I was glad to know him.”
“I’m beginning to see that. At the time, though, I just couldn’t understand why he’d want to live out here like a hermit when he could have been closer to his family,” Frank said.
Rudy nodded, “He was a hard man to figure sometimes. You know, I’ve been caretaking for this place since he died.”
Frank’s head snapped up, “That was you? I knew he’d made provisions in his will, but I must admit I didn’t pay much attention to who. No offense, but I just assumed it was one of his crazy survival buddies.”
Jess cleared her throat, “I hate to break this up, guys, but wasn’t Rudy about to fill us in on his close encounter?”
“Right, let’s get to it then,” Rudy said. He lowered his voice after checking over his shoulder to ensure his sister was out of earshot. They unconsciously leaned in closer.
“Our mother died some years ago and left the family homestead to Rhonda and me. The house was in the middle of nowhere, not fifteen miles from the lake. The area is built up some now but we still had a few acres and couldn’t see but one of our neighbors.
“My sister married my best friend, Virgil, some seven years before. We all got on pretty well and it only made sense for us all to take up in Mother’s house after she passed. My sister looked after us both, Virgil because he was her husband and me, well because I was her brother and a terminal bachelor who couldn’t take care of himself.
“One afternoon Rhonda was taking in linens off the line when she calls to me to come help. The wind is kicking up and she’s struggling with the flapping sheets and I asked where Virgil was. She said ‘he’s out at the barn, mucking the horses, but that was a while ago’.
“I heard her take in a sharp breath and I saw Virgil kind of shambling toward us across the hardpan. His head was down and I was about to chew his ass for taking a few too many nips off his flask when I got this feeling in my gut, a sort of clenching like you get when you step off a curb without anticipating the drop.
“Rhonda called to him. That’s when he looked up and charged her. He’d been at his face with what looked like hoofing shears, it was that bad. He grabbed hold of Rhonda and started to drag her away.
“I grabbed hold of him as Rhonda set her heels in and tried to pull away. He tossed me off like I was nothing and jerked Rhonda toward the stable. I grabbed a sheet and threw it over his head and then wrapped my arms around him in a bear hug. Rhonda grabbed another sheet and tied it around his waist, pinning his arms to his side.
“It was then that I heard the horses, they were going crazy. I said, ‘Something’s in the barn.’ I meant to say, someone was in the barn but it came out the other way. I saw smoke rolling out from under the doors and thought, my God,
he’s set it on fire
“Rhonda says, ‘No, it’s not smoke, it’s something else.’ I knew she was right and it made my skin crawl. It had a green feel to it, a bad feel, like a…demon’s fart.” Rudy laughed and shook his head.
“Rhonda said we should get Virgil in the house and maybe it won’t find us. I know that should’ve sounded crazy but I got the feeling that the smoke stuff was looking for us, for people.
“We got Virgil in the house and tied him to the pipes in the mud room off the porch. As I took off the sheet covering his head and I saw a greenish-black stain where his mouth was. Rhonda started to cry quietly because we knew the smoke was in him… you know the smoke, right?”
They all nodded. “Oh yeah, we know,” Mason said.
Rudy took another sip of cold coffee. “Rhonda put some food and water out for him while I went out to the garage and got a good heavy chain. Rhonda cried and said we were putting out food and water like he was a dog. What could I say? We were.”
Rudy’s voice hitched. He grew quiet and reflective, wiped at his eyes and then went on.
“So time passes, weeks maybe, and during this I’m watching Virgil transform.”
“Transform, how?” Mason asked.
“Well the first thing I noticed was that smoke stuff in him, was turning to a black tar like stuff, and it was squirming with… creatures. It leaked from him all the time. Rhonda would toss a sheet over his head and try to clean up in there. I’d tell her not to get the stuff on her, but at that point, we kind of knew it wasn’t dangerous after it had set awhile, after it had cooled.
“The other part of his transformation was more subtle. He never touched food after that first day and I waited for his clothes to bag and fall off. But instead, he got fatter. Not fat really, but expanding, swelling up, like he was being… inflated. His clothes tore and fell off, his skin turned terrible colors. He was a sight. I remember watching him through the window glass, my hand falling to my pistol, thoughts of ending his suffering.”
“We’ve seen some of the bloated ones,” Frank said when Rudy grew quiet. “It’s not an easy thing to process. I can’t even image what it would be like to have that happen, to have to watch someone you care about… you have my sympathies, Mr. Prescott.”