by Zuko, Joseph
“Only the two of us.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“I agree. If people knew they would-”
He turned back to face her again, “-lose faith. If faith is lost then they will soon lose hope and without hope we will crumble.” He released one of his hands and pointed to an infected beast racing across the field toward them. “Becoming one of them.”
The snap of gunfire brought the body of the infected tumbling to the grass.
Brother Paul entered into the Doctor’s personal space and held her by the shoulders. “You must continue your work and search for a cure.”
“It’s an impossible task. I don’t have the equipment or the staff. This is a church not a medical facility and bio-chemistry is not my field of study.”
“Then appear to be searching for a cure. That’s all that matters.” He released her from his grip and resumed his stoic posture. He looked around the property, checking to see if they were being watched and it appeared no one witnessed their exchange.
Doctor Bryant kicked at a clump of grass at her feet. “What are we going to do?”
He flashed her an award winning smile, mostly for appearance sake. “This flock, the church, the group of living souls around us, well we are similar to that of a delicate ecosystem. Too much rain, we wash away in a flood. Too much sun and we shrivel up like raisins. One gazelle too many, one lion too little and the system breaks.”
Her patience wore thin, “What do we do?”
“Our jobs. We keep just enough hope alive for these people that no one loses faith.”
“How?” she shook her head.
“We tell everyone you believe you are close to an answer.”
Her gaze narrowed. “We lie?”
“You didn’t hear me. I said we say you are close to an answer.”
“How is that different?”
“Close, specifies no time. Answer does not mean cure, but it will buy us time.”
She raised her voice, “Time to do what? We are already dead.”
He kept his smiling lips, but gritted his teeth. “Please keep your voice down, Doctor.” He relaxed his jaw. “It buys us time to gather people and supplies. To build solid walls and carve out a chunk of Vancouver that makes people feel safe. Then we wait.”
His plan brought her some comfort, but one question still remained. “What exactly are we waiting for?”
He huffed a laugh to the heavens, “Rapture.”
Before Doctor Bryant could ask another question someone was yelling, “Brother Paul!” from the back of the church.
He pivoted and saw Scott, the church’s I.T. guy, sprinting toward him. By the time he reached the two of them Scott was completely out of breath. Exercise was not the man’s forte. He bent at the waist, clutched his knees and gasped for air.
Scott puffed out, “You’ve got… to come quickly…”
“Take a deep breath. Calm down and tell me what is the matter.” Brother Paul reached for Scott’s heaving back and comforted the man.
Sweat dropped from Scott’s forehead and fogged his glasses. “It’s Eric… Someone’s got Eric…”
Paul’s face became as sharp as a razor. “Who has my brother?”
Chapter 3
Jim stood next to the boarded up sliding glass door. His hand rested on a plank of lumber. He sniffed and sucked up his runny nose, but he didn’t dare touch it. The busted cartilage was too sensitive. He stared at the fresh grave and Devon’s body.
Karen sat at the dining table. She had a soggy handful of tissues in her hand. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes.
Troy set the first aid kit on the table and took a seat next to her. “Let’s get that shoulder cleaned up.”
Eric lay on the kitchen floor unable to move his arms or legs. He coughed up blood and dipped in and out of consciousness. He was c lose to the end.
Jim started as a whisper. “I remember the first time I met Penny.”
Karen knew this story. She was there when it happened. Troy soaked a cotton ball with alcohol and dabbed at the fork wound on his sister’s shoulder. She hissed, but didn’t pull away.
Jim continued his tale, “She was dropping you off at Clark College. We had already been on a few dates and had gotten…” Jim paused, remembering Karen’s brother was in the room. They were all adults and they had kids together, but no one wants to hear about their younger sister hooking up when she was eighteen, so he kept it PG. “…physical.”
“Thank you,” said Troy as he placed a bandage over the angry looking cuts in Karen’s skin.
“Penny gave me a big smile, like she was the Cheshire Cat. She asked me ‘How is it hanging, Jim?’ I knew right away what she meant. I felt my face go red.” Jim nodded at Karen. “You grabbed my arm and said ‘Ain’t he cute.’ It was her way of telling me she knew everything about us being…physical. She didn’t yell or threaten, she just joked with me about it. I loved her right away.” Jim’s thoughts and feelings were on a vicious roller coaster. The joy of being home was at the forefront.
Karen and my girls are alive. That’s most important, he told himself, but every time he said it a darkness stewed in the back of his mind. It was a nagging, painful feeling that seemed like it was never going to go away. All of the loss they’d suffered was turning into a depression unlike anything Jim had faced before. Losing his house to the bank and the daily grind of a thankless job paled in comparison to this. Having his mother-in-law ripped from the family was a fresh layer of hell. Jim’s thoughts drifted to his own mother and father.
Were they safe on their property?
Had Don made it up there with his wife and children?
Or were they waiting in a pool of their own blood for me to come home and bury them?
The sounds of tape being separated from its roll pulled Jim out of his dark pit.
Troy tore off a chunk of tape and fastened it to Karen’s injured shoulder. “That’s as good as it’s going to get.” Troy closed up the first aid kit. Eric made a gargling sound. Troy reached for his gun. “We should drag him out of the house before he turns into one of them.”
“Zombies,” Jim said as he thumbed a tear off of his cheek.
“What?” Karen kept hold of her shoulder as she rose from her chair.
“Tina, our upstairs neighbor, called them zombies.”
A flash of memory played in an instant through Karen’s mind. It was of Tina and Karen as they chased down the lost little girl back at the apartments. They rescued her from the three infected zombies and brought her home safe. “Zombies?” The word rolled off Karen’s tongue with a sour taste.
Frank stepped through the front door. A duffle bag full of guns and ammo hung from his shoulder.
Karen flinched from the sudden movement of the strange man entering her mother’s home. She reached for her pistol, but she stopped when the older gentleman called for her husband.
“Jim?” Frank looked around the house as he dropped the bag to the floor. It landed with a loud clank. Frank spotted Jim in the dining room. He quickly gave the kitchen, Eric, Karen and Troy a glance and surmised exactly the fight that took place in the room.
“Frank, this is my wife, Karen and my brother-in-law, Troy.”
He nodded at them, “Hello.” Frank extended a hand toward Troy and the two did a single shake.
“Frank has saved my ass more times than I can count,” Jim said as he picked up his rifle and headed for Eric. Frank’s smile was subtle, but enough for Karen to pick up on how much the stranger already cared for her husband. Frank reached for her hand next. His skin was rough, but he squeezed her palm gently, as if they were old friends.
Karen put on a brave face. “Thank you for bringing him home.” She gave the man a welcoming pat on the shoulder as they broke from their hand shake.
Frank huffed an exhausted breath and grinned slyly at Jim. “I owed him, big.” Jim’s smile matched Frank’s. Karen might have been suffering from a mild concussion, but she was still able to read through the ma
nly talk.
These two had been through some heavy shit.
Karen had an impulse thought. The kind you can’t control your brain from having. All it said was.
This is a good man. He will be an ally in this fucked up world.
Frank cleared his throat and looked Jim dead in the eyes. “We really need you outside,” he said as he clutched the handle of his SKS.
Jim squinted as he asked, “What is it?”
“Their truck has a CB radio and someone on the other side is asking questions.” Frank headed out the front door.
Karen and Jim felt the same sting of panic.
Who the hell is on the other end of the radio?
What if they come here looking for their people?
Karen instinctively looped her arm around Jim’s, not wanting to leave his side.
Troy picked up on his sister’s vibe and nodded down at Eric’s limp body. “We don’t want this fool going zombie on us, so help me get the creep outside. Then I’ll watch the girls for you.”
Jim slung his rifle onto his shoulder and as he grabbed for Eric’s wrists he warned Karen, “You might want to stay inside. It’s…it’s really bad out there.”
Karen stuck out her chin. “I’ve seen bad.”
Troy snatched both ankles and they roughly yanked on his limbs with total disregard as they pulled the busted body for the front door. “He’s right. It’s a grisly scene on the front yard.”
Karen slid her pistol into the holster attached to her hip. “Don’t worry about me.”
Eric’s head dangled from his floppy neck and the back of his skull thumped along the hardwood floor as they yanked him out of the kitchen. Again he pleaded, “You… take me…to…the church.”
They shuffled for the front door and Troy grunted, “We’re not taking you anywhere, but outside you heathen.”
The thought of making this man suffer even more danced through Jim’s mind as he pulled him out of the house.
This asshole tried to rape and almost murdered my wife.
God knows what he would have done to my children once he was finished with Karen.
I should skin him alive.
Jim knew he was all talk. He wasn’t a killer. He’d never even been hunting before. The idea of snuffing out a living thing made his knees go weak. That’s when Jim spied Cliff sitting all alone in the front yard. A second later Jim couldn’t stop himself from staring down at the jigsaw pile of corpses. The saw blade Cliff constructed rested in the forehead of his last kill. It was stuck right between the dead man’s eyes. Both pupils had gone cross and were focused on the very thing that ended him.
If fate had swung in a different direction, that could be me out there. Jim glanced at Eric’s mangled noggin bouncing between his legs as they carried him further out of the house.
I might not skin him alive, but I don’t have to let him off with a warning either.
Once they got him out onto the concrete front porch they used their boots to kick and roll him into the yard. Troy closed the front door behind him as he went to watch the little ones. The front door’s locking mechanism was completely trashed and would need to be fixed before nightfall. The early morning sun had risen enough that it was now baking the diced up gunmen on Penny’s front yard. The aroma was pungent and forced Jim to breath out his mouth.
Jim hunched next to Eric’s body and rolled him to his back. “Where is this church?”
Eric blinked wildly as he conjured up his remaining brain power. “A couple miles from here… south of Mill Plain…close to 139th…” Was all he could string together before he faded.
Jim’s belly twisted into a knot and a lump grew at the back of his throat.
There are a bunch of churches around that area. He told himself. It can’t be the same one we ran into. Can it? Jim really looked at the front yard. The truck, the stack of assault rifles, and the shredded weekend warrior clothes the body parts were dressed in.
Oh, shit stains. The knot tightened and the lump doubled in size.
This was Karen’s first time stepping outside this morning. The sight was overwhelming. Penny’s home was peppered with bullet holes. A hill of meat was surrounded by a lake of blood in the front yard. A steady stream of crimson trickled down the slope of the driveway heading for the gutter. The chunky pile of gore made the flapjacks in Karen’s belly want to evacuate. Out in the street was the worst image of all. Her good hand shot to her mouth and caught her scream. Even with all of the extra armor bolted to the sides of the van, she recognized Tina and Cliff’s vehicle. Images popped like crime scene photos. Her grieving heart snapped in two.
Jim was wrong. It’s not bad out here.
It’s a fucking disaster.
There was so much to process. Karen was thankful for her mild concussion.
There wasn’t time to breakdown and bawl her eyes out. A confrontation was taking place.
Sara had Leon pinned against the fender of the truck. She waved an angry finger in his face, “What did you tell them?”
Leon held his hands in the air above his shoulders, as if she was an officer about to slap the cuffs on him, but the curled grin on his lips said he was playing around and not taking the young woman seriously. “Nothing,” he said, sounding more annoyed with the question than he was telling the truth. “Can someone call off the attack dog, please?”
Karen got control of her emotions and focused. She knew how to get him to answer the questions. “Leon, what happened?” Karen asked softly as she moved from Jim’s side. Leon caught his first glance of Karen’s beaten face. His smile went slack.
“Sara,” Frank called to her. She spun on her heals, ready to spit fire. Frank nodded for her to come stand next him. She caved and stepped out of Leon’s face to let Karen take the interrogation reigns. Once she was at his side he whispered. “Keep a level head, girl. We don’t need any more enemies.”
She breathed a long, calming sigh and turned away from the source of her frustration. Her chin dropped to her chest and she whispered back at Frank. “I’m okay.”
Leon’s mouth was agape as he scanned every bruise and cut on Karen’s face.
“I’m gonna be fine, don’t worry. Please, tell us what happened?” It took a tremendous amount of effort for Karen’s mouth to form a swollen smile.
Leon dropped his hands to his side. He shifted his weight and he peered across the group as they awaited his answer. “Someone named Scott, uhm, ah… Well, he was asking for Eric. So I picked up the CB and answered it.”
Jim stepped next to his wife and as politely as he could muster he asked, “What did you tell them?”
“Not much… Only a little, just that we had him.” Leon swallowed hard as he realized just how much danger he put everyone in.
Karen’s eyes narrowed, “How little, exactly?”
Leon breathed a heavy sigh as he came clean. “He asked about Eric and I said we had him. Then he asked about the others with him and I said…”
“What?” Frank’s patience was wearing thin.
“…that they were dead.”
“It didn’t occur to you to lie?” Sara asked as she rubbed her temples.
“At first I did. Then I thought what can he do? He’s only a voice on the radio.”
Sara began to chew on her fingernail. She got a little chunk and spit it to the ground. “What did he say after you told him that?”
“Nothing. He disappeared. Guys, I’m really sorry, but think about it. What can they do? They don’t know where he is, right? It’s not like they can easily walk across town and come get us, right?” Leon gave everyone a reassuring nod as he looked for someone to be on his side.
The radio cracked from inside the truck’s cab. The second the voice started to speak, even over the crackle of the radio, Jim knew exactly who was on the other end.
Brother Paul started cool and reserve as he asked over the radio, “Whoever is in charge, please pick up the receiver now.” The change was slow at first, but with every word it
grew into an anger that could pierce through the CB’s speaker. “Someone better tell me where my brother is… For your sake Eric had better still be alive.”
Chapter 4
Brother Paul waited for a goddamn response, but whomever was on the other end of the line had gone silent. His knuckles blanched as he squeezed the CB’s receiver. He could feel all eyes on him. Ten of the church’s support staff packed themselves into his office behind him. Dana was at the forefront. Her arms were twisted in a knot across her chest.
“Brother Paul, what is happening?” Dana’s voice wavered a little, but she was strong. There was only so much grief a human could take and she was close to the breaking point.
Paul knew he had to keep his cool, but show strength. He stayed silent as his memory rewound to his early morning meeting with Eric before Ranger Two departed.
The morning sun was about to crest the eastern horizon. Brother Paul leaned in as his fingers curled around the open window of the black truck. Eric sat in the driver’s seat as five men climbed into the truck’s bed, armed with automatic weapons.
“You have the coordinates?” Paul asked.
“Yes.” Eric nodded at his brother nervously.
“Stay on the backroads. Get to Dr. Chad Davis’s home, extract him and his family. Then head back to the church as fast as possible.”
Eric reached for the steering wheel, “Okay.”
Brother Paul nodded at the crew loading into the truck bed. “You’ve got a good team.” He looked back to his brother. “I put you in charge of this mission because I trust you to do the right thing.” Brother Paul reached for Eric’s forearm and gave it a loving squeeze. “Stay focused and move quickly. Come back to us safe, brother.”
Eric swallowed the lump in throat. The fear of leaving the safety of the church grew and his voice cracked, but he conjured a smile. “I’ll make you proud big brother.”
He started the truck and pulled out onto the street. He drove toward the rising sun. Machine gun fire popped from the back of the truck as they cleared a path through a pocket of infected.