Once he was outside I saw that his face was all cut up real bad and his tee shirt was all covered in blood. He came runnin' at me and I screamed and took off toward the church 'cause I knew now that the monsters were in this town.
All of a sudden, monsters started poppin' up left and right. They were crawling out from underneath wrecked cars, comin' out of houses and stores, and one even jumped out of a window. I remembered the way the monsters had tried to get me when I was in the little cave so I ran just as fast as I could and finally I was goin' up the front steps of the church and I'd just got inside and slammed the door shut when I heard one of them thud up against it. Even if the church was protected by God, I didn't wanna take any chances so I turned the little lock on the door anyway. And I think it made them mad that God had saved me cause they started pounding on the walls so hard that the windows kinda rattled around.
I thought maybe if I stayed real quiet that they might just go away after a while, so I went up toward the place where the preacher stands and laid down on one of the little benches. I didn't move or make any noise at all. I just closed my eyes and pretended like I was somewhere else. I imagined I was on the playground with Danny and Pete and we were playing tag and Mommy was standin' just outside the fence watchin' and smilin' like she always did.
I think I might of went to sleep for a little bit 'cause next thing I know the inside of my mouth is all dry but my head's sticky and there's all kinda spit on the bench I was layin' on. And those monsters were still out there and they were still poundin' away on the door and walls and I just wanted them to go away and leave me alone.
I kept hopin' that I would hear army helicopters comin' into town and they would open fire on all the monsters with their machine guns and then soldiers would break through the windows and tell me everything was gonna be alright. I kept hopin' to hear police sirens outside and someone saying through one of those horns they use step away from the church, we have you surrounded. But the only thing I heard was the thumping and pounding from the monsters.
Then I began to notice how hungry I was. It felt like my stomach was startin' to eat itself so I started lookin' around to see if I could find some food. Only there weren't nothin' in the church but a bunch of song books and some candles. I did find a little ladder with a rope leading up into the ceiling beside it though and I started climbing the ladder, thinkin' that maybe I could find some way to escape the monsters if I got to the top.
It ended with a little trap door and when I opened it, there was a big bell aver my head and it was like I was standing on a little porch or something. I could see the whole town from up here and could see all the monsters down below. I sat there and cried for a little bit, then I got real mad so I climbed back down the ladder and got a bunch of the songbooks and stuffed 'em down the front of my shirt. After that, I climbed back up again and started throwin' the books at the monsters, hopin' maybe it would scare them off. Only it didn't. It just seemed to make them even madder.
Then suddenly I felt real dizzy, like I'd spun too fast on the merry-go-round and it got real hard to breathe. My heart kinda felt like it was tryin' to beat right out of my chest and I was super hot. For some reason I started panting just like Mr. Boots after he'd been playin' in the sun only my tongue wasn't hangin' out like his. And all these thoughts kept going through my head, tellin' me that I was gonna die, that the monsters were gonna break in and get me and it didn't matter whether this was a house of God or not. And the voice also kept reminding me that my Mommy was dead and I was all alone and that there wasn't anyone in the whole wide world who'd be comin' to help me.
Everything got kinda blurry and then became real clear again and I started worryin' that maybe I was gonna fall off the side and down among all the monsters. So I started climbin' back down the ladder, only my hands had gotten all tingly like they do when I've laid on them for too long. And as the dizziness got worse I started breathin' harder and my heart started beatin' faster which just made me feel more and more dizzy. And that little voice was still in my head, still telling me I was gonna get eaten, they were gonna kill me just like Mr. Carl had killed Mommy only it would hurt a lot more cause they wouldn't be using guns or knives or anything like that.
About halfway down the ladder, my vision started gettin' real dark around the edges and I felt like I was rockin' back and forth as I climbed. My whole body was numb and tingly now and that darkness kept spreadin' until it was almost like I was back at that house lookin' through the keyhole again.
Next thing I know, I'm fallin' and then I hit the floor with a big thud that caused some of the candlesticks to fall over and there was this pain in my ankle that cut through the dizziness and darkness and made me scream. I tried to stand up, but it felt like my foot was being rammed with a ninja sword and I fell back down again, only not as hard this time.
Outside the monsters kept poundin' and I could hear this loud cracking sound that reminded me of how Buddy Holloway used to break sticks over his knee before he moved away.
They're gonna get in, the little voice told me, and when they do you won't be able to run or nothin'. They're gonna get in and they're gonna eat you and you're gonna die.
And I couldn't do anything but lay there on the floor of the church and cry 'cause I knew the little voice wasn't just tryin' to scare me. I knew it was right. I was gonna die and there wasn't anyone comin' to save me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: CARL
I'm standing on the shore of a lake. On the opposite side are rows of pine trees that sway softly as a breeze moves among their boughs; the sky is the clearest blue I've ever seen and these big, fluffy clouds drift by so slowly that it almost seems like it's the sky behind them that's actually scrolling by.
The sun is warm on my skin and glistens on the surface of the lake like glitter that's been dumped down upon the tiny ripples of water. I smell honeysuckle and lilac in the air and I wish my grandpa was here with me so we could drop some bobbers in the water and see if anything's biting. And Josie, too. I woulda loved for her to have met the old man.
It's a beautiful day.
A perfect day.
And then I notice my grandpa is here. While we fish, Josie spreads out a red and white checkered blanket and starts unpacking the food from the little wicker basket she's brought along. She'll give us a hard time, of course, about yanking these little creatures out of their world; she'll try to make us feel guilty, ask us if we can see the fear in their round eyes, the panic as they struggle for breath in a world they never know existed.
“How would you feel,” she says, “if some alien came along and just pulled you right off the face of the earth?”
My grandpa laughs from the bank and for a second I wonder where these two have come from. I'd simply wished they were here, hadn't I? Or maybe not. Maybe they've been here all along.
My grandpa pulls a flask out from the inside pocket of his fishing vest and takes a snort.
“Damn good hooch, I tell ya.”
He passes the flask to Watchmaker who eagerly raises it to his lips as Sadie slaps him in the back of his head with her palm. We all laugh and then Jason is running along the shore, holding a rainbow trout at the end of a long strand of twenty-pound test, his smile as bright and brilliant as the rays of the sun.
“Look what I caught! Look Uncle Carl! I caught it, I really did!”
I try to tell the boy that trout live in streams, not lakes but Monica just shakes her head and tells me I'd better give up, he'll never believe me.
“Carl,” Josie calls, “picnic's almost ready. Will Doc be joining us?”
I don't think he will. He was here earlier and we talked for a while but then he just up and disappeared. Said something about a storm coming, but I think he's wrong this time. It's such a beautiful day. That's the thing about weathermen, I say; it's the only job where you can be wrong ninety-five percent of the time and not get fired.
There's a round of laughter, but something out toward the middle of the lake catches my
eye. Nothing more than a few bubbles at first, rising to the surface and popping like there might be a turtle or something down below.
As I watch, though, the bubbles become more and more frequent and before long the center of the lake looks like a pot of water that's just coming to a boil. Everyone has clustered around me and we're all silent as we look out at the water.
“What is it, Carl? What's going on?”
Momma always said it’s better to keep my mouth shut and have the world think I'm a fool than to open it and prove them right. So I don't say anything and just stand and watch alongside everyone else.
The water's roiling now and the ground has begun to tremble beneath our feet like how I'd always imagined an earthquake would feel. Josie takes my hand and squeezes it hard, her eyes wide with fear.
Something bursts through the surface of the lake, something so large that the mind balks at the sheer enormity of the thing. It continues to rise as sheets of water rain down like a mighty waterfall and waves crash against the grassy shore as if we were standing by the ocean instead of something so much smaller.
And still the thing continues to rise, its shadow spreading across the water and falling over the group of people who cluster around me. Fifty feet, sixty feet, seventy... it blocks out the sun and casts the day into darkness as lightning begins to flicker way off to the east.
I realize that what I'm looking at is a monstrous pair of jeans. They're ripped and tattered and stained with grass but they're jeans none-the-less and each leg is larger round than most buildings I've seen in my life.
My eyes follow the legs upwards until they turn into a black t-shirt the looks as though the world's largest moths have decided to have a little snack on it. More holes than threads, I can see withered flesh below, the ivory curve of rib bones with strands of muscle hanging down like seaweed from the wreck of a ship.
Thunder rumbles and the ground shifts beneath our feet, causing us to huddle together even more closely. But still I continue looking upward, tilting my head back until I am almost looking directly up at the sky.
Lightning flashes and I saw unblinking eyes lacking even the tiniest spark of life. The flesh is pale and bloated and looks as though fish may have been tugging flakes away for quite some time. But the features are unmistakable. This giant creature, this rotter from the depths... it's me.
It moves more quickly than I thought it would, it's arm shooting out and snatching Jason and Monica into a fist the size of a large boulder. The others scatter like cockroaches in the light, but I realize that my feet have turned to roots and burrowed down into the ground so tightly that I can't move at all.
I watch as this monstrous, undead me pops the boy and his mother into its mouth as if they were nothing more than sunflower seeds. And then it's scooping Josie and Watchmaker up, raising them toward its cavernous mouth and I want to scream, to throw stones, to do something, anything. But my chest and arms have petrified now as well and my grandfather steps in front of me and shakes his head sadly.
“That ain't you, squirt. That ain't you at all. You don't have a hunger like that.”
Lightning flashes again, this time so bright that all I can see is an endless expanse of white with little blue bursts popping like flashbulbs. When the intensity of the light fades, I find myself in the back in the shack.
The pain in my side feels like it's been bitten into again, as if the injuries are fresh and new. The wind howls and I feel the breeze cooling the sweat on my body as the door bangs back and forth against the wall. At some point it must've blown open, but I don't remember this happening. I can see outside, though, and it's as black as the heart of Satan, the trees whipping back and forth as if bowing in subservience to the might of the approaching storm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see him. Jason. Standing there and looking for all the world like he wishes he could rip my head off with his bare hands. But when I turn to look, the image fades and there's only the same dusty walls I've come to know so well.
“I'm sorry.” I try to say, but the words that come from my mouth are undecipherable. I may have as well been speaking in code.
But it does turn my mind back to that day again. Back to that town. Back to that little church at the edge of the woods . . .
I looked around me, trying to take stock of anything I could use to save that kid's life without sacrificing my own. But the pickings were rather slim: nothing more really than piles of rubble, broken glass, an electronics store, and a little shop of knick-knacks with a wooden sign proclaiming Timeless Treasures. For a moment I felt lost, like a toddler who slipped out of his mother's hand and found himself in a strange, nightmare land. Which must have been how Jason was feeling.
I knew if I stayed out in the open that it was only a matter of time before one of those zombies at the church saw me. And since the street held nothing useful for me, I slipped into the electronics store, taking care that the little silver bell above the door didn't jingle as I pushed it open.
For the most part, everything inside was still in order. Computers looked down from shelves at me, reflecting the gloom of the store in their dark monitors; a few adding machines were strewn across the floor and reams of paper had burst open, spilling white, rectangular sheets like abstract throw rugs. I saw a row of televisions and wondered if anyone was still broadcasting, if there was news of exactly how far this thing had spread. But, lacking the time for idle speculation, I eased my way past them and made my way to the back office.
The office consisted of a desk with a 1980s style boom box perched on the corner, a calendar tacked to the wall, and a whiteboard with a list of names, days, and scheduled times scrawled across its surface. There were a few filing cabinets, a phone that the snapped telephone pole on the street made useless, and a door on the opposite side with a little red exit sign above it. Just a standard office. No more, no less.
I slumped into the chair at the desk and swiveled back and forth. I wanted to pound my fists against the wood, to release the energy in my tense muscles with a shout. They would be in that church sooner or later. And here I was, surrounded by useless artifacts. Powerless. Helpless. A would-be hero facing his own limitations and failings.
Lying in front of the boom box was what appeared to be the plastic case for a series of motivational tapes of some sort. They were labeled, in large black letters RISE UP AND OVERCOME: Personal Power Through Positive Belief. One of the tapes was missing from its slot and I noticed it securely nestled in the jam box's tape deck. Funny, the things your mind will latch onto when what you really need is to think of something useful. For example, I also noticed that the boom box wasn't plugged in, that there was no cord connecting it to the outlet on the wall.
An idea flared in my mind like a match striking. I bolted from the chair, grabbed the boom box with both hands and flipped it over. I fumbled with the little plastic covering and finally popped it out. Six D-cell batteries inside. There might be hope yet.
I then ran over to the exit door which had a little sign advising that an alarm would sound if opened. Seeing as how power was gone from this street, however, I didn't think that would really be much of an issue. Pushing it open, I peeked outside and saw that it lead into a typical alley: brick buildings on either side, dumpsters, graffiti.
Alrighty then, I thought. Let's pray this works.
Returning to the boom box, I turned the volume knob until it could go no further. Then I slid the three little paddles on the equalizer to the very top of their troughs and depressed the little button labeled bass boost. The office door I propped open with a computer tower and then, pausing only for a moment, I pressed the play button on the tape deck.
As the words came booming from the speakers, I made for the exit and slipped out into the alley I'd glimpsed earlier. My heart was pounding and adrenaline was surging through my veins like a ruptured water main. But I forced myself to slow down, to walk as softly through the alley as I could and to press myself into the shadows.
&
nbsp; In the silence of the town, I could hear the narrator on the tapes almost as clearly as if I were wearing headphones.
“... you have to believe. Now, what exactly do I mean by believe? Isn't belief a simple matter of.... ”
By the time I got to the mouth of the alley, I could just make out the church in the distance. The zombies were still hammering at the door and walls, still scrambling to gain entrance in any way they could.
“It's not working.” I thought. “Son of a bitch, it's not working!”
“... having a conviction from information received from, or derived by, your five senses? Yes and no.”
As I watched however, I saw one of the corpses whip its head back toward the street. It stood there for a moment like a coon hound catching a scent. Others took notice as well and the entire crowd began to slowly turn toward the source of the sound. The thudding on the walls had completely stopped now, which made the words of the motivational speaker even more distinct and clear.
“What I am talking about is belief based on the presumption that you.... ”
Like water bursting through an earthen dam, they spilled out onto the street. A few freshies in the pack led the way, but the rotters straggled after as quickly as their deteriorating muscle would allow.
I pressed myself flat against the alley wall, hoping that the shadows and their single-mindedness would help cloak me from view. I heard them pass with the sound of feet shuffling against concrete, fart-like sounds as gas from rotting organs escaped, scraping and dragging. The smell drifted into the alley like I was downwind from a pig farm after slaughtering day. I held my breath and pinched my nose to keep from gagging on the noxious stench, to keep from giving away my hiding place with a retch.
I heard the breaking of glass, things toppling over with thumps and thuds, and knew they had entered the store. As quickly and quietly as possible I started making my way toward the church, making sure to stay as far from the line of sight of the store as possible. Just in case any of them happened to look out the window at the pillaged street beyond.
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