Book Read Free

HOLD

Page 17

by Duane P. Craig


  Out to the city stre­ets and ho­urs worth of se­arc­hing is what it to­ok un­til we fo­und our so­ur­ce of all the da­ma­ges. One tank.

  That’s all that had be­en res­pon­sib­le, and in­si­de that one tank, one man - a pri­est no­net­he­less. He held us sta­ti­onary with the fifty-ca­li­ber mac­hi­ne gun mo­unt un­til we damn ne­ar told him our li­fe sto­ri­es. I can’t bla­me him for be­ing so ma­ni­acal in his de­me­anor. The man had ob­vi­o­usly be­en on his own for qu­ite a whi­le. He’s got a scruffy be­ard, torn pri­est ro­be, wo­oly ha­ir and I co­uld ac­tu­al­ly smell him asi­de from the stench of de­ath that al­re­ady re­si­ded in the city.

  Fat­her Lo­we is his na­me, and for se­ve­ral we­eks, his ga­me has be­en sur­vi­val and ma­ni­acal­ly ta­king to this who­le sce­na­rio as if he is left he­re for de­li­ve­ring fi­nal ato­ne­ment to the mas­ses of de­mons, as he calls them. Lo­we is a one man wrec­king crew with his tank, se­ve­ral pis­tols and a sled­ge­ham­mer. Lucky for him that he’s a big eno­ugh guy to lug all of tho­se things aro­und, too. I swe­ar he must be abo­ut 6’ - 4” and pro­bably a so­lid 230 lbs. He’s li­ke a f**king pro­fes­si­onal wrest­ler with a pri­est’s ro­be on.

  By night­fall, Lo­we was a fan of ours and we of him. We had tra­ded sto­ri­es for the re­ma­in­der of the day and had only co­me ac­ross a few gho­uls to dis­patch. We all en­ded up in our new hold, Lo­we’s Cat­ho­lic church - one of the only few Cat­ho­lic churc­hes in the city ac­cor­ding to him. He hasn’t dis­cus­sed too much em­pathy that he knew of any sur­vi­vors of any ot­her re­li­gi­o­us de­no­mi­na­ti­ons, nor has he had anyt­hing kind to say abo­ut them eit­her. He’s very pro­ud of him­self and his Cat­ho­li­cism. I can to­le­ra­te his ti­ra­des, I gu­ess, but the one thing that re­al­ly do­es bot­her me is how he has de­co­ra­ted the out­si­de of his church with cru­ci­fi­ed re­ma­ins of gho­uls. The fact that he’s ma­de the ti­me to get that do­ne sug­gests his ca­re­les­sness and mo­re over, a sen­se of psycho­sis. I’m glad he’s on our si­de.

  DAY - 88

  Mor­ning starts early with Lo­we. He gets up and be­gins pra­ying lo­ud and ma­ni­acal­ly from his po­di­um just li­ke he’s got a full ho­use for mass. I as­ked him if the dra­ma­tic ser­mon was all for our be­ne­fit, and he shoc­kingly sa­id that he do­es that every mor­ning - that the so­uls of all the lost and mis­le­ad must be fin­ding the­ir way to his cong­re­ga­ti­on sin­ce he is the last holy man left. He’s cer­ta­in that he is the fi­nal do­or­way for them from out of this pur­ga­tory. Fred and El­len are rat­her fed up with Lo­we’s com­ments - it’s so evi­dent in the­ir ac­ti­ons, but I al­so re­mem­ber them tal­king abo­ut the­ir Bap­tist be­li­efs on one of our first nights to­get­her. Beth just se­ems to want to la­ugh at Lo­we. Myself, I’m a bit wor­ri­ed abo­ut pis­sing him off, still. That, and I plan on con­ti­nu­ing to use him as a map to this city. Oh, and I’m de­fi­ni­tely not let­ting on to Lo­we that I ke­ep this jo­ur­nal. The­re’s no way I’m let­ting him re­ad this thing.

  Our first chan­ce at using Lo­we as our map ca­me abo­ut no­on to­day. Lo­we pi­ped up rat­her lo­ud and proc­la­imed that it was ti­me to eat. He grab­bed his sled­ge­ham­mer and a pis­tol and just to­ok to wal­king out­si­de wit­ho­ut even chec­king thro­ugh a win­dow at what co­uld be out the­re wa­iting for him. He had no ca­re in the world. He was lucky to get past a slow, stumb­ling gho­ul just by sho­ving it asi­de and ma­king his way atop the tank. I hur­ri­ed be­hind and spli­ced the gho­ul’s he­ad in half li­ke a ba­na­na. Lo­we just la­ug­hed at me and sa­id a nonc­ha­lant, thank you. He then yel­led at us to qu­it be­ing lur­kers in this world and to hurry up and get eit­her in or on top of the tank to go for a ri­de. We all just went with the flow.

  The girls got in­si­de, and Fred and I sta­yed out­si­de on the front of the tank. We had the fla­meth­ro­wers and had to torch abo­ut ten or so gho­uls be­fo­re we en­ded our trek at an ice cre­am sto­re. Lo­we pop­ped out of the tank with just his sled­ge­ham­mer and proc­la­iming that to­day was as go­od a day as any to ple­ase his swe­et to­oth.

  Ho­urs pas­sed, and we fo­und our­sel­ves in the ice cre­am par­lor just sit­ting in bo­oths lo­oking out the thick glass win­dows and do­ors and ha­ving hu­ge mix­tu­res of wha­te­ver ice cre­am was left ava­ilab­le. I’m thin­king that Lo­we had his fill of the pla­ce se­ve­ral ti­mes be­fo­re. The stre­ets we­re calm for tho­se few ho­urs. It was pe­ace­ful ac­tu­al­ly. I al­most felt li­ke I had a mo­ment back from my re­gu­lar li­fe, sit­ting with fri­ends and just chat­ting abo­ut wha­te­ver bul­lshit ca­me to mind. Of co­ur­se, it didn’t last. We we­re sud­denly pit­ted aga­inst anot­her mang­led gho­ul of a dog, a big one, too. I think it was a Bull Mas­tiff or may­be just a big ass Chow. Wha­te­ver, tho­ugh, that wasn’t the high­light of the sce­na­rio. The li­me­light drew down so­lely on Lo­we as he simply sa­id, “ God dam­mit, “ and he slowly wal­ked out­si­de the par­lor with his sled­ge­ham­mer, held it li­ke a ba­se­ball bat and wa­ited for the dog to ta­ke a lun­ge at him. The dog fi­nal­ly did lun­ge af­ter ac­ting funny, to which Lo­we swung hard and not only bro­ke the dog’s neck comp­le­tely back­wards but al­so sent se­ve­ral of the dog’s te­eth hit­ting and slowly sli­ding down one of the par­lor win­dows. Beth’s eyes grew big li­ke sil­ver dol­lars, El­len abo­ut cho­ked on her ice cre­am, Fred star­ted la­ug­hing his ass off and I just sto­od up in ca­se that wasn’t the end of the fight.

  It did end the fight, tho­ugh. Lo­we ca­me back in­si­de the par­lor and to­ok back to fi­nis­hing his ice cre­am and tal­king abo­ut not­hing in par­ti­cu­lar.

  Whi­le prep­ping for anot­her de­cent night’s sle­ep, I fo­und ti­me to con­ver­se with Fred pri­va­tely. I wan­ted him to know my tho­ughts on Lo­we - I want the guy on our si­de, but he’s a psycho­tic who may not res­pect the mag­ni­tu­de of what is re­al­ly go­ing on? Then I as­ked him abo­ut Ca­mo - I hadn’t se­en him sin­ce in the tank, and I’d ha­te Lo­we to find him first.

  Fred just la­ug­hed.

  DAY - 89

  I ha­te stitc­hes. I ha­te swel­ling, too. I’ve got a dam­ned plas­tic bag with ice cre­am in it on my swel­ling in ho­pes that it go­es down so that I can see out of my left eye aga­in, and so­on. Oh, and that old sa­ying co­mes in­to play, as well - “ you sho­uld see the ot­her guy! “ In this ca­se, the ot­her guy is Lo­we. He’s ti­ed up in a cha­ir with eno­ugh of his own bumps and bru­ises right now. Fred ad­ded most of tho­se to him, but I know the first hit ca­me from Beth. That’s what ca­ught Lo­we by surp­ri­se and to­ok his big ass down for Fred and El­len to fi­nal­ly ma­ke a mo­ve on him and sub­due him. By the way, props to El­len for the stitc­hes. I’ve lo­oked in the bath­ro­om mir­ror and they se­em to be qu­ite pro­fes­si­onal and tight in pat­tern.

  See, Fred had awo­ken early this mor­ning be­fo­re Lo­we even awo­ke. The two of them we­re tal­king for a whi­le be­fo­re the rest of us even con­si­de­red get­ting up. Fred told Lo­we what we we­re af­ter in An­te­lo­pe Sta­te Park - the is­land ho­using the ba­se that we want to in­filt­ra­te for the re­al prob­lem that has be­fal­len the mas­ses. Lo­we co­uldn’t comp­re­hend that it’s anyt­hing less than the rap­tu­re, and it was his ran­ting and ra­ving from his po­di­um on the to­pic that awo­ke the rest of us. I ma­de it a po­int to yell and in­ter­rupt him, tel­ling him what I tho­ught and how I felt things ne­eded to be de­alt with. Lo­we was sud­denly eager for us to show him our bo­at. The next thing we knew, we we­re on the tank aga­in and on our way to the dock.

  Once at the dock, we fo­und our bo­at be­ing ins­pec­ted by a few gho­uls. The sho­re­li­ne had se­ve­ral mo­re gho­uls wan­de­ring abo­ut, and down the stre­et we saw a l
i­ne of gho­uls he­ading to­wards the north end of the city. No so­oner than I co­uld step off of the tank to start cut­ting my way to our bo­at, Lo­we had fi­red one of the tank’s shells. He comp­le­tely dest­ro­yed our bo­at in one qu­ick blast. I snap­ped and com­men­ced to trying my har­dest to get in­si­de the tank to kick the shit out of him. I’m told that the fight didn’t last all that long, and that the gho­uls from the stre­et we­re just as so­on drawn to our com­mo­ti­on. The fight I star­ted co­uld ha­ve cost us our li­ves if not for ever­yo­ne el­se's qu­ick ac­ti­ons to end it. For all of that I apo­lo­gi­ze.

  Lo­we is very unsym­pat­he­tic abo­ut our loss of the bo­at. He says a tank is bet­ter any day. Well, now it has to be, do­esn’t it? He sa­id he just tho­ught to show us the po­wer and ac­cu­racy of the tank, and that he was still he­avily in­fa­tu­ated with it be­ca­use he had only ac­qu­ired it abo­ut a we­ek ago. That me­ans had he be­en in the tank be­fo­re, he might ha­ve tar­ge­ted us and blown us out of the wa­ter the first ti­me we en­te­red the city and ac­qu­ired the bo­at. Con­ve­ni­en­ce is al­ways a mat­ter of opi­ni­on to so­me, but damn, it ke­eps be­ing cru­ci­al for us.

  Fred is cur­rently clu­ing Lo­we in on how things are go­ing to be do­ne from he­re on out - thro­ugh our le­ad. Fred can be very per­su­asi­ve, but who knows what that crazy fuck, Lo­we will ta­ke se­ri­o­usly. I do know that Fred fo­und and has used Ca­mo to sho­ve in Lo­we’s fa­ce a few ti­mes - ap­pa­rently Lo­we is af­ra­id of lit­tle crit­ters. It's li­ke mi­ce to an elep­hant.

  I ha­ve anot­her plan bre­wing, too. I want to vi­sit the ar­mory whe­re that tank ca­me from and see what ot­her ar­til­lery they ha­ve for us. Then, I want to find a tall bu­il­ding that isn’t so full of gho­uls that we can use its ro­of wit­ho­ut worry. I re­al­ly want anot­her high po­int vi­ew of An­te­lo­pe Sta­te Park.

  DAY - 90

  Our day star­ted early eno­ugh, as even tho­ugh Lo­we was ti­ed to a cha­ir, he still ma­na­ged to be­gin pre­ac­hing alo­ud to his sup­po­sed lost so­uls. I just went ahe­ad and un­ti­ed him and sto­od de­ad be­fo­re him wa­iting for him to try so­met­hing - anyt­hing - I co­uld ha­ve ca­red less. I abo­ut wan­ted to kill a li­ve per­son for on­ce, and I don’t think it wo­uld ha­ve bot­he­red me in the le­ast. Lo­we is full of surp­ri­ses, tho­ugh. He smi­led big and held out his hand for me to sha­ke it. I tho­ught abo­ut it for pro­bably a go­od two mi­nu­tes, put my ot­her hand on my sword and pro­perly sho­ok his hand. Lo­we cal­led me a ro­gue war­ri­or - that I wasn’t exactly what God had wan­ted for fil­ling his pur­po­se, but that he was ob­vi­o­usly ac­cep­ting of me and ab­le to lo­ok past my flaws. Now, I’m not the holy type, and I ne­ver ha­ve be­en, but it got me thin­king. I am among the only of my spe­ci­es left. I pro­bably do ha­ve so­me type of an­gel on my sho­ul­der, luck, go­od kar­ma or wha­te­ver - may­be it re­al­ly co­uld be so­met­hing di­vi­ne. Then aga­in, a part of me thinks that I’m just bu­si­ness first, and by not fuc­king aro­und, I’m still stan­ding. Oh, and thanks, Fred, for sa­ying wha­te­ver it to­ok to get this crazy fuc­ker to un­ders­tand what we’re trying to do. Al­so, thanks for fin­ding a ni­ce, lit­tle duf­fel bag to put Ca­mo in­si­de of. I know you think I’m crazy for ke­eping him, but I think he’s go­ing to help us mo­re than a ca­nary in a co­al mi­ne.

  Lo­we has led us to this high ri­se, and his ra­ge hel­ped se­cu­re us in the un­derg­ro­und par­king sec­ti­on. We fo­und a pla­ce whe­re the mu­ta­ting gho­uls are go­ing, tho­ugh. They ap­pa­rently are mo­ving out of the sun­light. We we­re im­me­di­ately figh­ting off a swarm of the fo­ur leg­ged style gho­uls and even so­me that I’ve yet to en­co­un­ter - ones wit­ho­ut necks. They lo­oked mo­re li­ke hu­ge body­bu­il­ders with that no-neck lo­ok to them, but they we­re mo­ving aro­und li­ke go­ril­las. The­ir arms even lo­oked to be lon­ger and thic­ker than they sho­uld ha­ve be­en.

  Tho­se gho­uls we­ren’t too af­ra­id to swing and stri­ke at the tank, but in re­turn a lot of them en­ded up be­ing snag­ged by the tank track and drag­ged to be mang­led be­ne­ath it. So­me just rip­ped away from the arms they lost in the track and still kept co­ming. I pretty much kept a golf swing with the sword for the en­ti­re at­tack. Fred torc­hed the a lot of them, but the fi­res even­tu­al­ly set off the sprink­ler system in the ga­ra­ge.

  Ellen and Beth we­re qu­ick to gi­ve Fred a nit­ro­gen gun to start fre­ezing the gho­uls. Lo­we stop­ped the tank at the ma­in sta­ir­well to the bu­il­ding and got out to help us. He to­ok ex­ci­te­ment at smas­hing the nit­ro­gen fro­zen gho­uls with his sled­ge­ham­mer.

  I la­ter fo­und out that the bi­no­cu­lars I to­ok out from the tank we­re shit. That’s when I de­ci­ded to try lo­oking aro­und on the top le­vel of of­fi­ces. Beth wan­ted to co­me along, and I ac­cep­ted her com­pany. I only wan­ted her to go with me, tho­ugh. I ac­tu­al­ly told the ot­hers not to fol­low Beth and I. I gu­ess that part of it was my wan­ting so­me alo­ne ti­me with Beth and con­fi­ding things to her. The ot­her re­ason is that I knew the­re may be gho­uls in the of­fi­ces, and that I wo­uld ha­ve to mo­ve qu­ick and pos­sibly run mo­re than figh­ting. I trus­ted Beth to ke­ep up. As it tur­ned out, we had only two gho­uls that we ca­me ac­ross - jani­tors, and they we­re still pus­hing aro­und mops. Beth and I sha­red a long la­ugh be­fo­re ta­king them down. Mi­nu­tes la­ter we fo­und what I was lo­oking for - a win­dow of­fi­ce of so­me­one who still co­uldn’t re­sist the temp­ta­ti­on of vo­ye­urism. I fo­und a te­les­co­pe, and it’s a big, ni­ce, ex­pen­si­ve one, too. I've yet to use the te­les­co­pe, tho­ugh as we to­ok the ti­me to all ma­ke this top le­vel of of­fi­ces our new hold for to­night. I me­an, bath­ro­oms, snack and drink mac­hi­nes - per­fect. I can't wa­it for sun­ri­se.

  DAY - 91

  He­aring Lo­we la­ugh at us is mo­re than an­no­ying. It’s just flat out fuc­king pis­sing me off. The prob­lem is that he has every right to la­ugh. Everyt­hing we tho­ught we knew abo­ut the ca­use­way was an op­ti­cal il­lu­si­on. The ca­use­way is not a brid­ge. It’s a long, thin, two la­ne ro­ad on a man ma­de sand bar of sorts. My ini­ti­al plan is shot to hell. I was ho­ping to gat­her the gho­uls all on the brid­ge and blow it on­ce we we­re se­cu­red on the is­land. I co­uld ha­ve drow­ned the mas­ses of gho­uls and pro­bably shor­ted out the na­no­tech in a mat­ter of se­conds. Only the flo­aters wo­uld be left to con­tend with, and they don’t se­em too many to worry abo­ut. The is­land has it’s own ma­ri­na, and I can see they ha­ve bo­ats the­re just wa­iting for us to use. The wa­ter wo­uld ha­ve be­en such a gre­at bar­ri­ca­de for us and gi­ve us plenty of ti­me to try and get so­met­hing go­ing in the un­derg­ro­und ba­se. But it’s all a lot mo­re comp­li­ca­ted, now. If I want to rid us of the gho­uls in mass, then the best new plan is to first cle­ar the city si­de of the ca­use­way from gho­uls and rig exp­lo­si­ves the­re. Step two wo­uld be rig­ging mo­re exp­lo­si­ves on the is­land si­de of the ca­use­way - me­aning ha­ving to cle­ar wha­te­ver gho­uls we en­co­un­ter on the ca­use­way at that ti­me. Step three wo­uld be ro­un­ding up every gho­ul we can find in the en­ti­re city and le­ading them on­to the ca­use­way - that me­ans all of us, may­be be­co­ming ba­it to so­me ex­tent. Step fo­ur wo­uld be sur­vi­ving the who­le dis­tan­ce of the ca­use­way and then blo­wing both ends re­mo­tely as so­on as we are se­cu­red on the is­land.

  We all tal­ked abo­ut the plan. I’m pretty su­re that ever­yo­ne thinks I’m a fuc­king idi­ot, but they aren’t aga­inst fin­ding so­me exp­lo­si­ves. That’s go­ing to put us at ma­king to­mor­row an early start at go­ing to the small ar­mory whe­re Lo­we got his tank. We sho­uld at le­ast walk out of the ar­mory with eno­ugh f
i­re­po­wer to per­su­ade them furt­her in­to the idea of ba­iting and trap­ping.

  The bulk of our work for to­day was gat­he­ring snack fo­ods and drinks that we co­uld se­cu­rely pla­ce in­si­de the tank. We trek­ked thro­ugh se­ve­ral dif­fe­rent flo­ors to the bu­il­ding be­fo­re we fi­nal­ly en­ded up in ca­fe­te­ria area on the se­cond flo­or. The­re we­re many gho­uls in the­re, and I swe­ar it lo­oked li­ke they had be­en ha­ving fo­od fights for months. We did our usu­al in dis­patc­hing them, but it was ext­ra spe­ci­al when we re­ali­zed that we we­re ta­king out ban­kers and col­lec­ti­ons of­fi­cers - tho­se pe­op­le that al­ways end up cal­ling you if you are so much as two days la­te on a cre­dit card pay­ment. As­sho­les!

  We all en­ded up enj­oying the­ir dest­ruc­ti­on a lit­tle too much.

  After the me­lee, I lo­oked in­to the lit­tle duf­fel bag for Ca­mo. He had tur­ned that red co­lor aga­in in the pre­sen­ce of gho­uls. I had for­got­ten to check him yes­ter­day af­ter the ga­ra­ge sce­na­rio, but I’ll bet that he tur­ned just as red then, too. He is go­ing to be our ca­nary in a co­al mi­ne. We’ve ba­si­cal­ly fo­und the clo­sest thing to ha­ving a ra­dar for gho­uls. I watc­hed him clo­sely as we pac­ked the tank to­day, too. He ne­ver chan­ged co­lors in the ga­ra­ge, and we ne­ver did see or even he­ar a gho­ul.

 

‹ Prev