The room was silent. All eyes were on Simon and David; it was not often that David was challenged. “Simon, this is where you fail to see. It may be true that the Koreans were the vessel that was used to put this plague upon the world, but it doesn’t matter how the change came about. It only matters that we survived. We were left because of God’s plan with our lives. You may not even realize it yet, but God has a plan for you. You see, Simon, the dead are alive. They walk the earth like you and me. You’ve seen them walking and killing with your own two eyes. How is it so hard to believe that this might have been caused by a higher power?”
“And what if it’s not like you say? What if this is all the culmination of the greed and the anger and the unfairness that the world has created? What if this is the world that we created for ourselves based on our inability to cope with one another? Maybe this is what we deserved. For the hours we spent watching TV. For the lies and deceit. For all the shit that was handed off to the next generation and the next for two hundred years or more. This is what is left. People stealing from one another. People killing and raping and doing whatever they damn well feel like. In all of this land, you may be the only people who believe otherwise.”
David stood up and put his arm around Simon. “It’s okay, Simon. Because that’s what faith is.”
After the table was cleaned and dishes were washed, everyone walked to the church. In the darkness, people could be seen moving across the farm as fireflies danced around them. The moon broke through occasionally, briefly lighting the way.
The Finch family had not been regular church-goers. Simon remembered being dragged to church on special occasions like Easter and Christmas Eve or when a church wanted to recognize the baseball team. He had never considered himself religious or thought much about the afterlife. He sat with Claire on the back row and waited for everyone to fill in. Everyone else had brought candles with them.
“Why don’t we have candles?” asked Claire.
“Probably because we didn’t grab one before we left,” said Simon.
“What should we do? Go back?”
“No way!” he said. “It’s about to start.”
One of the teenage boys that sat across from them at dinner sat down next to Claire. “I thought you might need these.” He offered them two candles. “I didn’t see you pick one up on the way out.”
“Thanks!” said Claire. “What’s your name?”
“James. Everyone calls me Bugs though.” Simon could see why. His glasses took up half his face. They were black-rimmed and thick. His hair was flame red.
“What do you prefer?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a nickname. And no harm meant by it.” He had a cheerful disposition.
“Okay, well thanks, Bugs,” she said. “Your hair is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such red hair.”
“Thanks. It’s really weird, I’m the only one in my family with red hair,” he replied. “They said we were dying out—redheads, that is—before this all happened. I may be the last one on the planet for all I know. It’s kind of cool. That I might be the only one.”
David was the last to arrive. When he walked in, everyone stood up. His candle danced in front of him as he walked. At the front of the church, he turned to the person to his right and touched his candle to theirs. “These candles symbolize our bond with each other and with God. Alone, and with no guidance, we remain in the dark. But when the light is given to us, and we pass it forward, the light takes over.” He lit the candle to his left.
The two candles he originally lit were used to light their neighbor’s candle, and so on and so forth until everyone’s candles were burning. The small flames blended and danced, lighting the rafters though darkness engulfed the outside.
“We have come to this building nearly every day since God’s reckoning. Some of you have been here every time. Others are here for the first time. What matters most is that you are here. The roads that have led you here might be different, but you are here.” He stepped up onto the pulpit and placed his candle in a sconce attached to the wall. The rear lighting gave David an ominous look as the light from the flames writhed on the wall above his shoulders.
“Old Man River gave these sermons for over a year after God released his wrath on the world. And for fifty years before that, he gave them every Sunday. There are a few of you who probably remember them. And since his passing, I have been entrusted with this responsibility. And it is not a responsibility I take lightly.
“Many of you have had great spiritual turmoil over the death of Old Man River. For if he, the greatest and most devoted among us, can be turned into one of those creatures, what chance do any of us have? Peter wrote, ‘God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast them down to Hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgment.’”
David stepped down from the pulpit and walked down the aisle. Flames flickered across his face. “We have all sinned—everyone of us—and we will all meet our judgment. Even the angels. But know this, when the Lord comes to take us home, he will take all of us that are righteous, regardless of our sins. And the living dead buried not two hundred yards from where you sit, they will be taken too. So I say this to you. Do not worry about the fate of the dead. Worry about saving the living.
“Whatever has caused this affliction is not our concern. What concerns me is if these people die without knowing the Lord. Because his return is upon us, it can be felt all around. While we may be brought to Heaven even in our undeath, those who do not know will be cursed forevermore. Our mission has always been rebirth and reclamation. We must foster the lands while we can and save those who are willing to be saved. We are not concerned with the skirmishes of surrounding places, but being a beacon of hope and safe haven, and shedding our light and knowledge on the world. Because I say again, the time of our Lord’s return is at hand. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon. Of that we can be sure. Now take your neighbor’s hand for a moment of silent prayer.”
Everyone placed their candles in the holders on the back of the pews. Simon grabbed Claire's hand and she grabbed Bugs’s. For several minutes, they stood in silence. This is not what I had pictured at all when I first heard about this place, thought Simon. They seem like genuinely good people. I may not believe what they do, but I can’t fault them for anything. It seems they’ve done nothing but good, while on the other hand…
“Simon!” shouted Claire. “Simon, it’s time to go.”
“Sorry. I was—”
“Daydreaming. Some things never change. Let’s go,” she said. Almost everyone else had cleared out except for David and another man who were talking by the pulpit.
When they arrived back at the house, there were two cots set up in the living room. David had somehow made it back before them and was sitting in a chair. “I suspect you two will be wanting to leave tomorrow. I’ll have the ladies put together a bag of food for you. We have jerky and lots of fruits and vegetables you can take. I’ll stop by in the morning before you head out and see you off.”
“Thank you, David,” said Claire. David left the room and Simon and Claire exchanged looks.
“The Mayor made is seem like this place was batshit crazy,” said Simon. “But they really just seem like normal people. They have strong convictions, but they care about each other, and they have the best intentions.”
“I think so too. Maybe Old Man River was a little on the crazy side. It’s hard to tell. People have such a great admiration for him,” she said.
“Yeah.” Simon paused for a minute. “I have an uneasy feeling about tomorrow.”
“What do you mean?” asked Claire.
“It’s just that these first two places we have been to, for the most part, have been decent. I have a bad feeling that something not so good is on the horizon. We’ve heard a lot of bad things about the High School. It makes me a little nervous.”
“Well, we’ll find out when we get there. We can be prepared, bu
t there is no use worrying about what we can’t control.” They climbed on their cots and fell asleep. Simon slept through the night and Claire’s nightmares seemed to lessen.
Simon woke to the smell of bacon frying in a pan. In the kitchen, people moved like ants as they grabbed food and took it where they wanted. There was less formula to breakfast than dinner. Bugs brought two plates of bacon and eggs with sliced strawberries to Simon and Claire.
“Enjoy.” He handed them the plates. “This is probably the best breakfast you have had in your life. It’s all fresh. Most people have no clue what fresh food actually tastes like.”
“Thanks so much, Bugs. You’ve been very kind to us,” said Claire.
“No problem. We take care of people around here. I hope you have a safe trip, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.” He walked back towards the kitchen.
True to Bugs’s word, the food was some of the best Simon had ever had. The strawberries were the perfect mix of sweet and sour. The bacon was crisp and flavorful. The eggs were scrambled to perfection. They were nearly finished eating before David showed up. He carried a canvas bag full of food. “This should last you a couple of days, at least until you make it to the High School. I wish you the best of luck on your journey and I hope that someday it brings you back here.”
“Thanks. This place was nothing like we expected,” said Simon. “People said a lot of crazy thing about you guys, but you have been nothing short of amazing. I think you are doing a great thing here, I really do.” Simon wanted to know one more thing before they left. “Is there any advice you have for dealing with the High School?”
David paused a second before answering. “Always keep your guard up. They play by our rules when they are here, because they need something we have, but we never go to their place. Old Man River went once, and said that some things were better left unsaid. So I don’t have much to tell you. Their leader refers to himself as Justice. He’s a hard man. He talks like a sailor and isn’t afraid of throwing down. They usually want something when trading information. If you don’t have anything they want, then I suggest finding something on the way.” He handed the bag over to Simon. “I don’t know if I would rather you find your family there or not.”
Nothing else was said before they left. Once they were at the end of the driveway, Simon emptied the contents of the bag. It was full of jerky, hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes, apples, strawberries, and corn.
“Where do we go from here?” asked Claire. She helped Simon put the food back in the bag.
Simon pulled out the map. “We are about twenty-five-miles from the High School. It will probably take us two to three days to reach them.”
“I’m pretty sad to be leaving this place,” said Claire, looking back at the Farm. It held the glow from the morning sun.
“Yeah, it was nice. Maybe we’ll be back someday.”
As they left the Farm, the wind picked up again. Leaves flew by and a soft howl filled the air. Simon tightened his backpack around his shoulders. “The wind is so creepy,” he said. “It never used to blow like this. I don’t even understand where it comes from.”
“It’s another mystery. Something to do with whatever the Koreans did, but no one I’ve talked to seems to have any clue,” replied Claire. Her blond hair tossed in the wind as she walked.
The further they walked, the harder the wind blew. Like it was telling them to turn around and go back. The day passed slowly. The half-dead trees and gray skies weighed heavily on Simon as he walked. By noon, both Simon and Claire were exhausted. The sun had been hidden behind clouds all day, but the hard pavement wore on their feet. “I need a break,” she said.
“Okay. Let’s take a rest over by this van.” A red minivan sat abandoned on the side of the highway. The bumper sticker read ‘My child is a terrific kid.’ Simon checked the door handle. It was unlocked. “We can chill out for a minute in here.”
“Good idea. We need a few moments of peace and quiet,” said Claire. They climbed in and sat their bags on the floor. There were school books scattered on the floor and a backpack lay half-open in the backseat. Simon took a seat against the window and reclined it. Claire crawled in the backseat and laid down.
“They must have been coming home from school,” Simon said.
“Do you ever wonder,” she asked “what happened to the people who left these cars?”
“I haven’t really thought about it, to tell you the truth.”
“You weren’t here when it first happened, but it was bad. Even before people started turning, it was bad. The power died, cars quit working, no phones, nothing. If you didn’t have a plan in place, your family was screwed. What if one person was waiting at home and another tried to walk to a relative’s? There was no way to tell them what to do. And if that person left to go to the relative’s, and the other person went home, but they took different ways and never saw each other, what then? Do you assume the worst? Do you lose them forever because of missed timing? And the looting, the power was out for two days when it started. We saw people pushing buggies down the streets loaded with flat screen TVs and speakers. Stupid morons. I’m sure they’re all dead by now. We were lucky for the most part. Dan was at a friend’s when it happened, but me, Mom, and Dad were all at the house. Dad had made a plan when it all started that no matter what happened, we would come back to the house if there was an emergency. That was when it was just the message on the TV and we were all waiting.”
Simon sat up. “It sounds terrible. I can only imagine what the bigger cities must have been like.”
“No kidding. Imagine a hundred thousand cars coming to a complete stop at rush hour in New York or Atlanta or LA. They are probably still there. And the dead. I don’t even want to think about that. Any place with a large hospital, I bet that’s where it started the worst. Those first few months, they were everywhere.”
A soft patter began to beat down on the roof of the van. “Is that rain?” asked Simon.
“It is. Looks like we might be stuck in here for a little while. I don’t trust the rain anymore. The way the clouds are always so dark doesn’t seem safe.”
Simon laid back down in his seat. “I’m going to take a nap then. Wake me up when it stops.”
“Wake up! You have to see this.”
Simon bolted up, alarmed. “What? What is it?”
“Look. Off in the distance, next to that light post.” Claire pointed.
The light post was far away. The rain had stopped, but the air was still misty and fog had taken over. Steam slowly rose off the pavement. Behind the light post, Simon could make out three bodies, moving at a slow pace. “Are they real people or what?” he asked, squinting his eyes in a desperate attempt to see better.
“I don’t think so. They are just kind of wandering along. They’ve been slowly moving for a few minutes now,” she said.
“Do you think we should do anything about it?” he asked.
“I say we just let them be. If they don’t see us, then we shouldn’t have a problem. We can wait them out, and then start moving.”
“Are you sure, what if they are able to follow our scent or something?” Simon asked.
“They aren’t dogs, Simon. I doubt they can even see us.”
“Then how do they know when there are people around? How do they know when to attack?” Simon still hadn’t figured out what made the monsters tick.
“I don’t know. But what if there is a cure, or will be some day? I don’t want to be responsible for killing anyone I don’t have to,” she said.
“And what if they go off and kill someone else, because we didn’t stop them here today? What if they come across some kids, or a family, or take out the person who is in charge of a small group? What if they are the reason a dozen people die, and then those people are the reason for two dozen more?” he asked. If Claire didn’t want to stop them, that was fine, but Simon couldn’t leave that weight on his shoulders.
“Don’t give me that shit, Simon. I said I�
�m not doing it. If you want to, then go ahead. But I’ve had enough violence for a while. We should be trying to heal, not hurt. Like David and his people.” She spat the words at him, angry.
“Come on, Claire. I know he was nice and all. And good looking. But you know everything he said was a load of bull. No one is coming down from Heaven to save us. They are doing a great thing there, I’ll grant you that, and it might be a wonderful place to settle down, but you can’t go healing these things. And if we keep letting them wander around, pretty soon one will be climbing on our backs.”
The window beside Simon’s head shattered with a crash and glass rained down on his body. Two hands reached through the shattered glass, pus running down both arms. In the heat of the moment, Simon and Claire had stopped watching the three undead men in the street. Their raised voices had lured them to the van and now one of them was trying vigorously to grab Simon while it heaved and grunted. Simon pushed back at the monster, but its strength was overpowering.
“Claire, the gun. I need the gun!” screamed Simon. He was fighting off the man as best he could, but he was stuck in a bad position, pinned on his back in the seat.
Claire was digging through her bag when a second window shattered. It was the rear. The other two monsters pulled at the backseat, trying to get to Claire. One was missing an arm at the elbow, but still pulled hard with his one working arm. They started reaching over the seat, trying desperately to grab at any part of Claire within reach. She hurriedly shuffled through the bag, looking for the gun. “I can’t find it!” she screamed, desperation spilling out with every word.
Land of the Dogs (Book 1) Page 8