Sorrow

by Brian Wortley

  The gunfire all but ceased. Jones reached down to his belt for a grenade but found none. Completely emptying their clips at the king with no result, Jones and one other ran into a nearby hallway. They abandoned the rest of the men to their bloody deaths and ran as fast as they could into the darkness.

  The two did not speak for hours. Both knew they were bound by the single purpose of escaping the sewers. A task not requiring words. With the snarls of their foes behind them, they ran for what seemed like miles through endless tunnels and mazes until they came at last to an opening. Night greeted them as they stepped from the underground passage. They found themselves to the east of downtown and immediately proceeded to where they left the vehicles.

  In silence they ran back until their vehicle came within sight.

  “How will we ever defeat that thing?” the soldier finally asked.

  “We’ll have to lure him out. Once they get the tanks figured out, we’ll get him.”

  As they approached the vehicles, Jones heard a great horde. “Shit!” he yelled and dashed for his truck.

  Two second level zombies overtook them but Jones dodged them as they tackled the soldier behind him. Without a single thought or enough care to look back, Jones reached his truck and managed to jump up to the door and open it with a single motion. Climbing inside he thrust his hand in his pocket fumbling for the keys. With his other hand he grabbed a side arm from the passenger seat and shot at the three nearest foes he saw. A large force off to the passenger side of the truck approached.

  Jones managed to get the keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the ignition. A zombie jumped up and grabbed onto the roof and smashed his head into the driver door window. The engine roared to life and Jones slammed the gas pedal to the floor. Just as the zombie broke the driver side glass, Jones fired the rest of his clip into the zombie’s face and it fell outside leaving a trail of blood streaked across the shattered window. Jones felt the foe’s body crunch under the back left tire. With his one hand, he steered and with the other he tried to reload his side arm. Eventually the lack of another clip kept him from reloading so he changed to trying to unbuckle the shotgun mounted behind the seats. All the while, zombies fell under his truck tires like grass in a field. Several jumped attempting to get onto the hood, but the truck approached too quickly and they impacted the cattle guard instead and soon fell off. With several still attached, the truck tore out of the crowd knocking over many on its way out.

  Two clung to the passenger side until Jones drove close enough to a nearby building wall to knock them off. He looked back to find only their fingers still attached. This left only the two in the bed and one on his side. He heard the thud of the shotgun falling to the floor. Leaning over, he managed to pick up the weapon just as the zombie from his side reached onto the shattered glass and pulled itself up. It popped its face inside the cabin to discover the barrel of the shotgun awaiting it. With a pull of the trigger, Jones splattered its face onto the whole driver’s side of the cabin. Blood and body chunks shot onto the dashboard and window. Jones had to now lean over to see out the glass. With a quick glance, Jones found one of the zombies in the bed was missing. He slowed the truck down to free his driving hand to pump another shell into the chamber.

  His mind raced with two possibilities. Half of his mind wanted to attempt a drive to the camp and let the guards deal with his leeches. The other half doubted he’d make it all the way back the camp without dealing with them first. But if he stopped, the others could catch up. He sighed and slowed the truck down to a stop. He jumped out of the truck and whirled around and shot a zombie on the roof. The range was too great to kill it, but the impact blew it off the roof. Jones reloaded and ran around the truck to finish him off.

  On the passenger side of the truck he found the second awaiting him. Before he could fire off another round, the second zombie jumped onto him and knocked him to the ground. Instinctively his hand went to his belt and drew his knife. The monster bit into his upper shoulder at the base of his neck. Meanwhile Jones thrust the knife into the zombie’s side right below the ribs. It barely slowed him down and so Jones stabbed again and again. Meanwhile the monster’s hands like claws dug into Jones’ gut producing an intense pain. The two frantically wrestled convulsing back and forth. The zombie managed to grip Jones by the head and bash his skull against the pavement until Jones heard a concerning crack. Finally, Jones managed to get the upper hand when he stabbed his knife into the soft underbelly of the zombie’s jaw. This successfully loosened his grip enough to make the creature back off for a moment giving Jones time to strike again across the creature’s exposed neck. Multiple times he slashed and hacked at the jugular until the monster fell motionless.

  Jones stood to examine the wounds in his gut and found himself bleeding badly. He managed to slowly climb back into his vehicle. He rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment reeling from the pain. But a look in his rear view mirror gave him the motivation to start moving again. He drove in his half stunned manner until finally the camp came into view. Just as it came within sight, he became aware of it. A red color came over his right eye making it unable to see. When he brought his hand up to find the source, his fingers discovered the festering features of an undead face. Numbed by the blows to his head, the zombie hiding in the back seat managed to peel back the pieces of Jones’ fractured skull and bit into his brain unnoticed. Its teeth were now seated securely in Jones’ mind.

  The truck slowed as Jones lifted his foot off the pedal allowing the vehicle to come to a gradual stop. He let out a long exhale and his head gently rested against the seat. So ended the assault of the second king.

  Part 3

  Brady’s Seduction

  When none of his men returned, Connor feared the king greatly. The more he weighed his options, the more he believed their only option to be to lure him into the open where they had the advantage of weaponry. He positioned the tanks into a defensible formation and tasked several of the ex-military recruits with finding an efficient way of using the main guns. Because of this, random explosions could be heard throughout the camp at all hours of the day.

  Brady worked tirelessly on his project by day and spent much of the nights painting in the upstairs of their house. He told Sara he painted but cautioned her not to tell anyone especially Val. Although she greatly wanted to know what filled his mind, he refused her admittance until it was accomplished. When those projects didn’t consume his energy, he spent as much time as possible with Sara. A deep seated fear of him now resided in her and she limited her time with him.

  They tentatively scheduled their getaway for early the next week. In one way, Sara looked forward to it. But in another way, she feared being with Brady at night when his fits overcame him. A part of her wanted to cancel their trip, but with the attack on the Zombie King, Brady seemed more in control of himself. She believed the theory that Brady could be falling prey to the new influence of the new Zombie King. And if things were as she suspected, if Brady moved away from the Zombie King’s influence he could possibly recover. This above all else gave her hope.

  ∙ ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  Thursday morning, Brady’s team finished their project and presented the finished CD to Connor. Connor immediately disbanded Brady’s group of programmers and forbid them from speaking to Brady.

  Now with his project complete, this freed the rest of the day for time with Sara. He walked back to his house like an outcast. All feared to speak to him for fear of Connor’s wrath.

  “I’ve been feeling a bit unlike myself lately,” Brady confessed that night at dinner. Brady sat alone at the far end of the table Val dragged in from an abandoned building. The two women sat at the other end somewhat out of fear of him. Sara and Val looked up at him from across the table. Brady continued, “I have big gaps in my memory especially at night. Have you two noticed anything?”

  Sara cast a quick glance to Val and then rose from her seat to come kneel before her husband. She place
d a hand on his leg and replied, “Brady, you’ve been someone else at night. I don’t even recognize you. You say insane and sometimes terrible things. This is the first time you’ve spoken of it. Do you remember anything when it happens?”

  “I remember a throbbing,” he said almost as if in a trance. “Its fingers reach out to my weary mind infesting it. Why am I like this when the other recruits aren’t?”

  “Your infection was altogether different,” Val replied. “Connor modified your infection to be unlike the others. It makes sense that your side-effects would be different. Perhaps you’re more susceptible to this new king’s influence since you had a special infection.”

  “Brady,” Sara said with great care in her voice, “we have to get you away from here before it gets worse.”

  “How could I leave at such a crucial stage? Where would I go?”

  “We could go back to living in the mountains. You can help from there.”

  “Let’s see how our trip to the mountains goes. If I’m better there, I’ll consider moving back to the cabin. It would be good to live in the mountains again. I miss that.” Brady now looked at his wife and Val with such care. “You know I love you both?”

  “We know,” Sara replied.

  “My feeling goes far beyond words. If only I could open my heart to you two and show you firsthand my deep care for you! I wish there were words I could give to comfort you but the days ahead are very dark.” They met his gaze, but could not respond. “My mind burns,” he said standing quickly. “I have to go paint.”

  Brady continued painting long after Val and Sara went to bed. To her surprise, Sara felt a startling grasp wake her. She jolted awake and immediately reached for the gun on the nightstand.

  “It’s me,” Brady’s voice replied.

  “What’s wrong?” Sara glanced out the window to see the sun just starting to light up the distant mountains. “What time is it?”

  “Morning,” he replied with a giddy smile. “I’m done painting. Come look.”

  Sara felt mixed emotions garbled in sleepiness. Brady had been so adamant about not showing her his work until now, she felt strange being ushered into it so quickly. As her mind became clearer, she started to fear what she might find on the other side of that door. Her mind raced back to the horrific paintings of the bunker in their old house.

  Together they crept up the stairs to the upper room where Brady had spent so much of his time over the last several weeks. He stepped into the room before her to pull open the curtains allowing the sunlight to wash over his creation.

  A pain, as real as a knife, stabbed her. “Such horror,” she cried. After spinning around to survey all of it, she turned again to her Brady. He stood in the center of the room seeming very unlike himself. Small and humble. Childlike even.

  In a soft voice she whispered, “We’re not here to save humanity are we?”

  “I never was.”

  They stood quietly struck by the somberness of the moment.

  “Will you stay with me through it all?”

  “Always.”

  She moved into his embrace. They hugged like children huddled together before a fairytale tyrant.

  ∙ ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  Sunday finally came and Brady and Sara told everyone they would be leaving until Tuesday. They would only go a little ways up into the mountains and would have their radio on twice a day for an hour (Sara would not allow more). Like sending off a newly married couple, Val and Moses and a few others came to see them go. Val would watch over their house while they were out. She didn’t expect any issues with Connor. In fact, she had been encouraged by his attitude lately. He seemed somewhat purpose driven which helped take the attention off of her.

  Connor approached and one of his guards asked him, “You’re letting Brady leave?”

  “Of course,” Connor replied. “I have no issues with him leaving. In fact, I hope he leaves and never comes back. He can take his gloom elsewhere. We don’t need him here.”

  The guard turned to watch them leave. This gave Connor time to consider whether or not he should attempt a conversation with Val. He decided to try and walked over to her.

  “How is living at Brady’s?” he asked.

  “They’ve been very good to me.”

  “Val, I wish you’d come home. This week has been hard without you. Seeing Brady and Sara go off on vacation together makes me wonder if we don’t just need the same thing. It’d be good for it to be just us for a while.”

  “Would it?”

  “I think so. You don’t?”

  “Connor, I don’t know what we need.”

  “Why don’t we just talk?”

  “I’m all talked out, Connor. We’ve discussed everything. You want kids. I don’t. This would be a horrific time to be pregnant. You want to settle down. I’m loving my job too much to think about playing it safe. And on top of that, I believe Brady’s warning of being too attached to a single location. I don’t think Zalac will let us do that. They’re going to keep us from rebuilding a society.”

  “Then what's the point? If we don’t group up together and stand firm, what are we fighting for? Is it just survival? I want more than that. I want a family. I want a place to call home. I want safety again. And I think walls and guns can give us that. If we’re strong enough, they can’t touch us. We need weapons. Think of all the minds we have at our disposal now. We could research weaponry that is effective against hordes of zombies. We could have the advantage and eventually take the fight to the new king. Can you imagine if we could reclaim America? It’ll start here in the Springs, but it’ll grow. Why don’t you want to be a part of that?”

  “Damn it, Connor. I’m tired! Why can’t we just talk about some flowers every now and then?”

  “It’s the apocalypse and you want to talk about flowers?”

  “Don’t you get it? That’s one of the reasons I’m living with Brady and Sara. You’re so intense! I know it’s the apocalypse, Connor! Every time I open my eyes, I know it’s the apocalypse! I want to talk about something else for a while. Why can’t it ever be, ‘Hi, how are you today?’ Why does it always have to be so heavy?”

  “We live in heavy times, Val.”

  Val stepped away from him to see Brady and Sara off. Connor grabbed her arm firmly keeping her from leaving. Instinctively, she whirled around and lunged at him with brazen teeth. He let go shocked and wide-eyed. Glaring at her in disgust he yelled, “Zombie bitch!”

  Val stood in utter disbelief of her ears. Tears welled in her eyes and she went fleeing off.

  Connor shouted at her to come back and tried to run after her but the human-sized brick that was Moses eclipsed his path. “You’ll be leaving her alone now.” Connor thought of having him arrested or killed but thought better of it. He resigned himself to watching his wife disappear off into the distance.

  ∙ ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  After Sara searched but wasn’t able to find Val to say goodbye, they set off. They made their way to the roads that would lead them up the mountain pass towards Woodland Park.

  “I worry about leaving Val,” Sara confessed when the camp was out of sight.

  “I’ve asked Moses to watch out for her in case Connor tries anything. But Connor has seemed better lately.”

  “I just don’t know,” she said staring out the window. “He’s unpredictable which is even worse. Perhaps it’s been good for him to be away from her. Maybe he’ll remember how much he loves her.”

  “Connor will come around. I think it’ll just take some time.” Brady turned on Sara’s favorite John Denver album. As she recognized the first song, she turned to him with a smile. As best she could, she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. When they entered the mountain pass, Brady announced, “I brought some eggs and milk. We could try to make some waffles or pancakes.” Sara smiled just at the thought.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”

  Brady slipped
his hand into hers, “And I you. Terribly!”

  When they came to Green Mountain Falls, they scoped out the town looking for any zombies. When they found none, they located a comfortable looking bed and breakfast where they could spend the night. Just as they were settling in, the mountain rains started to sprinkle. They hurriedly brought in the rest of the luggage.

  “This reminds me of our honeymoon,” Sara said. “Remember how it poured at the airport and the taxi cab driver was on his phone and wouldn’t help? And then you got all mad because we had to make 3 trips.”

  “Well you did bring a lot of bags. Especially for only two weeks.”

  “You’re man through and through, Brady.”

  “That’s good though, right?”

  As evening came, Brady built a fire and the rains continued. When Sara stopped obsessing about the possibility of every one of his actions being his madness returning, she finally felt at ease. The more she thought of it, the more she felt like she slipped into a fairytale. The picturesque cottage, the rain, Brady’s romance, and the fact that they finally were getting away all came to revive her spirits. She found it almost surreal as they sat together wrapped in blankets eating their warm soup as they watched the rain trickle down the windows.

  “I will never leave you,” Brady whispered into her ear. “No matter what happens.”

  “I know,” she softly replied as she took his arm into her hand.

  Brady’s madness never seized him. So she embraced him more freely than she had since the breaking of the world. For a moment, Brady set aside all his many cares, letting them drift away like candles on the water. They drank deeply from the fountain of love as the moonlight broke through the haze, dancing across the earth below.