American Revenant (Short Story 2): Dead South

by John L. Davis IV

  Looking at the girl, Matthew could see that she was genuinely terrified of the coming nightfall. “Listen, we get a move-on now, and we should get there right around dark, especially if we do some running when we’re in the clear. I know all the shortcuts and stuff, and I know where the zoms are, or aren’t. I’ve taken out a lot of them.” This last he said with just a bit of bravado.

  Casey sighed heavily, her face tight with fear. “We can’t just wait out the night here, can we?”

  “I don’t think we can, no. If those assholes are really waiting to ambush us, then they’ll eventually come back when we don’t show up, gun or no gun.”

  The girl’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that. Let’s get going then.”

  “Ok, I think we should go as fast as possible toward the river, it’s not far. If we cross over Pointe Coupee Road and follow the levee we can stay hidden all the way to Morganza.”

  Matthew moved slowly through the door, watching all around, his head moving as if mounted on a gimbal. The two moved quickly down the building, toward Airport Road.

  At the corner of the hangar, Matthew stared back in the direction of the maintenance building, where he’d dropped his bike. Seeing no movement or sign of the men, Matthew sidled between the high fence that separated the airport grounds from Airport Road and the side of the hangar they had been in. Casey trailed close behind, often placing her hand on Matthew’s backpack.

  At the next corner, Matthew peered around the corner down the opposite side of the hangar. No one waited. He turned back to Casey and whispered. “See that building over there? We go straight for that, cutting through the tall grass. After that there’s a long field, it’s pretty well overgrown. We stay in the middle of that and it goes almost all the way to the road that runs along the levee. If we keep this hangar sort of centered at our backs, hopefully it’ll help block their view if they’re still out there.”

  “Yeah, ok, I got it, dude. Let’s just get a freakin’ move-on. I feel like a shitting duck out here.”

  “You mean ‘sitting duck’?” he asked with a smile.

  She gazed at Matthew defiantly. “No, I meant ‘shitting’, can we go?”

  “Sure, let’s go.” Despite the tension of the moment, Matthew was unable to suppress a grin.

  They crossed smooth blacktop and stepped into a wide area of overgrown grass that bordered the vehicle shed. Trudging through the overgrown weeds and grass felt like trying to walk through waist deep water. They made progress, but far more slowly than either of the two youth would have liked.

  Once they were at the vehicle shed, Matthew upped the pace and Casey followed his lead. They crossed the lot without incident, skirted a boundary fence and plunged into the thick overgrowth of a forgotten cornfield.

  The dry stalks scraped and scratched as they drove hard through the rows. Thick, rotting ears of corn slapped at them like heavy unseen hands.

  They slowed their headlong rush through the field after Matthew tripped, going down when a hard clod of dirt rolled under his foot.

  “You ok, dude?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said from where he sat in the dirt. Matthew tested the ankle, rolling it back and forth. “No pain, no damage, thank God. Would’ve been in trouble then for sure.”

  The duo took a moment to catch their breath, and in a moment of silence they heard the distant rumble of a car’s engine.

  Casey gazed toward the direction of the airport and turned back to Matthew, her face pinched. “They really were waiting for us, weren’t they?”

  The engine noise died, and soon after they could hear faint shouting coming from the direction of the airport.

  “Yeah, they were waiting.” Matthew extended his hand to Casey, “Help me up, we have to keep moving.”

  “You’re kind of bossy when you’re running in fear for your life, you know that?” She grasped his hand and pulled, grunting as he gained his feet.

  “I’m just trying to rescue the damsel in distress here, but the damsel keeps being a smartass,” Matthew grinned widely.

  Casey dropped his hand and looked away. “Oh, don’t worry dude, this damsel isn’t in that much distress.”

  Matthew nodded, the air cool on his hand where she’d been holding it. “Who knows what those nutjobs are gonna do, let’s hurry up and get to the levee.”

  Matthew turned and pushed on toward the road and the levee beyond, though at a slightly slower place. A twisted ankle now was a death sentence.

  The rows slipped and slapped by, and in just a few minutes the two were lying on the ground, among the tall weeds next to Pointe Coupee Road.

  The rumble of the gunmen’s car could be heard in the distance, though neither could tell exactly where it came from.

  “We can’t wait here all day.”

  “I know, I know,” Matthew said. He waited a minute longer. The noise of the car bounced and traveled along the roads and fields, distorting the sound. “I can’t tell where it’s coming from. We go across, then right up the side of the levee, fast. Once we’re on the other side they won’t be able to spot us, no matter what.”

  “Ok, ok, let’s just…”

  “Go.” Matthew stood, pulling Casey with him, and darted across the road, almost diving into the weeds on the other side.

  Seconds later the bloody car, still hung in dripping body parts swung around the corner from Airport Road, turning toward them.

  The youths flattened themselves against the ground, Casey thinking for a second that she wished she could sink into it.

  Matthew watched between the thick stems of weeds. He could smell the putrid rot coming from the car as it cruised by. He braced for the sound of tires screeching as the car came to halt and the men dived out of the car to snatch them from their hiding places.

  The screech of tires never came.

  After several seconds, that Matthew and Casey felt had lasted a week, the engine revved and the car took off, following Pointe Coupee Road east.

  The sound of the car dwindled and rose, as if the driver were taking his time and scouting the area.

  Casey followed Matthew as he crawled his way through the tall grasses to the top of the levee, slinking over the top, and across the narrow dirt lane that ran along its crest. Side by side they lay in the grasses and let the damp, loamy smell of the Mississippi wash over them.

  Rolling onto his side, Matthew watched Casey’s face in silence until she turned to look at him. She smiled a smile that was almost shy, and Matthew could see a bit of the girl she might have been, before sickness and death had taken over the world and turned it into a place of fear and hiding, a world that forced young people on their own to grow up quickly or die.

  The sound of the car rumbled on, turning into a distant buzz, then silence that wasn’t silence. The sound of the wind pushing through the trees along St. Maurice Towhead, the gentle slap and gurgle of the Mississippi running along the banks without a care of its own, these sounds reclaimed their space, and inside that space the two gazed at each other in quiet acceptance.

  Wordlessly, Matthew nodded his head in the direction of Morganza, and Casey bobbed her head in reply. Boy and girl stood and began walking just below the edge of the unpaved road, keeping the levee between them and the hunters beyond it.

  The two walked nearly six miles before Matthew stopped them just outside Morganza.

  “Since we don’t have the bike, we’re just going to cut across the back roads and the fields. It might take a little longer, walking wise, but it’ll be safer, especially since it’s getting darker.”

  Night had begun to creep in, and the light was heavy as it faded, weighing on the pair, especially Casey, as they made their way across Morganza Highway.

  “You sure it’ll be safer going this way?” Casey asked, her voice tense.

  “Yeah, much safer. I’ve traveled this a lot over the past few years. If we see one of Cothak Tah’s minions…”

  “Cothak what? Matthew, you aren’t secretl
y batshit crazy are ya?”

  “Nothing, I meant the zoms, if we see one of them I’d be surprised.”

  They walked in silence for a while, passing the old gun shop, then angling north-east. Casey spoke, more to occupy her mind on something other than the falling night, “So, what’s this “Cothak Tah” thing?”

  “It’s nothing, just forget it.”

  “No, come on, Matthew, tell me.”

  “You’ll just think it’s silly.”

  Her voice took on an edge, “Don’t tell me what I’ll think, dude.”

  Matthew sighed heavily, “You won’t let it go, will you?”

  “What do you think?” she asked with a devilish grin.

  “Cothak Tah is an evil Wizard-Lord, he’s a character in a story I sort of create in my head as I go. It’s just something I do, I dunno.”

  Casey walked along for several quiet steps before responding. “So, it’s like you’re writing a book?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I’ve written stuff down when I’m bored, but nothing huge, you know. Not like a novel or anything.”

  “You should, really,” Casey said, “When the world comes back, you can publish it and everything.”

  Matthew chuckled softly. “Yeah, who knows, right? Maybe I will.” He turned to look back at the girl, judging if she was sincere or just poking fun at him.

  “What?”

  Matthew smiled at Casey, then stumbled over a hump in the field they were passing through. The two laughed, and the drawing dark felt less oppressive.

  “A couple miles left.” Matthew slowed his pace to match Casey’s steps.

  “Where do you live, now? In your old house?”

  “No, I was actually in New Roads kind of visiting where I used to live. I… I was feeling homesick, I guess.”

  Casey didn’t respond for a long moment, and just as Matthew was about to broach the question, she said, “I haven’t been home in a long time, either.” She gave nothing more, and the weight of her voice told Matthew that maybe she wasn’t quite ready to talk about it.

  “I live in this junkyard. It’s got this old office in the middle of the yard, and it’s hidden, sort of, by all the cars and stuff. Plus, it’s got a gate I can close if I need to. I’ve been working to make it safe since I’ve been here. Booby traps and stuff.”

  “Why’d you come here if you lived in New Roads?”

  “My dad, he, uh, kept a little boat in Morganza. We’d go fishing together whenever he was home. Coming here, I could be close to… home, and well…”

  “I get it. What do you mean, ‘when he was home’, was he a truck driver or something?”

  “No, Dad was a soldier. He was deployed when everything went zombie. I haven’t seen him since.”

  “I’m sorry, Matthew.”

  “Thanks,” he said softly.

  The two walked on in silence, crossing several more fields and paved back roads before Matthew said, “It’s right up there.”

  Casey followed the direction Matthew was pointing. Though the night wasn’t full dark yet, she couldn’t make out any detail. “Thank God. I need to be inside.”

  “It’s really small inside. I have an extra sleeping bag and stuff, so we can make a place for you to sleep.”

  They stepped onto the blacktop of Fordoche Bayou Road and Matthew led them toward the dim outline of the junkyard gate.

  “You don’t have any rooms or anything?”

  “Nope, it’s just a tiny shack really.”

  “Oh, well… ok.”

  Matthew slipped his pack off and reached inside, pulling out a small flashlight.

  “Wait, you’ve had a flashlight this entire time?!”

  Matthew turned and shined the light at her face. “Couldn’t risk turning it on. You could see this little light for miles out here, probably. In here it’s safe.”

  “You’re an asshole, dude.”

  Matthew shined the light so that Casey could see where she was walking. When they drew close, he angled the light so that she saw the shack. He stopped and waited for her by the door.

  “Wow, you’re right, it isn’t much, is it?”

  “It’s home,” was all he said in reply. “Wait here a sec.”

  As he started to walk away, Casey reached for the doorknob.

  “Wait, Wait! Don’t open it yet!”

  The girl froze with her hand on the knob. “What? What!”

  Matthew reached around the corner of the building, slipped his finger into a small hole and tugged a cable, setting the safety latch in place. Breathing a relieved sigh, he said, “Ok, you can open it now.”

  Casey glanced at him, back at the door and took a step back. “It’s your place, I think I’ll just let you open it.”

  Matthew laughed. “Yeah, ok.”

  He twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Stepping inside first he shined the light up at the axe trap he had set. “That’s why I didn’t want you to open it. I set it when I’m away or at night, just in case someone living or dead tries to break in.”

  Casey admired the ingenuity of the defensive device. “I’m glad you stopped me, I’ve never cared for wearing a part in the middle of my hair.”

  Casey stepped in and Matthew shut the door behind her. He quickly lit several candles, filling the small room with light. “Like I said, it isn’t much, but, home-sweet-home, ya know.”

  Casey nodded her head at the sleeping bag, blankets, and pillows piled on the floor. “This is where you sleep?”

  Matthew nodded, the answer obvious.

  “Couldn’t you just move into one of the houses in Morganza?”

  Matthew ignored the question and dug through a pile of clothes still in packaging. He pulled out a sleeping bag, as tightly rolled as the day he snagged it from a supply store eight months before.

  He began to shove stuff out of his way, kicking empty food wrappers, cardboard boxes and all manner of things to make room for the sleeping bag on the floor. In the cramped space he angled the bag so that Casey’s feet would be pointing at his own. The two would be almost perpendicular.

  As soon as Casey saw Matthew unroll the sleeping bag she started to yawn, unable to fight the sheer exhaustion from the days running and the long walk back.

  “Yeah, I’m beat, too.”

  “Matthew, I, uh, don’t have to, you know, worry about anything with you, right?” She watched him carefully, waiting for him to reply.

  “What do you mean?” His gaze narrowed in the flickering light, and he watched her face as closely as she watched his. He thought for a moment, wondering at what she might mean. As realization dawned on him his eyes flew wide and he could feel heat rush to his face. “Oh, no, oh God no, Casey, not… I wouldn’t… no… just…” He stammered and stuttered over the words, unable to fully articulate the thoughts swirling in his tired brain.

  Casey smiled, then began to laugh. “It’s ok, dude. I just, well, had to ask, you know?” She squatted down on the sleeping bag, and accepted the pillow that Matthew handed her.

  Matthew stretched out on his own bag, and he could feel the weight of the day begin to drag his eyelids down. He sat back up and blew out one of the candles, and reached for the other.

  “Matthew?”

  He turned to Casey, her smooth face partially shadowed, deep lines created by the flickering candle. Her glassy eyes danced with the tiny flame. “Yeah?”

  “Can you leave a candle burning? Just for a little while.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Good night, Casey.”

  “Night. And Matthew, thanks for today. You’re my hero.”

  He could hear both the sincerity and the smile in her voice. “Welcome.”

  6

  Matthew stared up at the ceiling of the shack, tracing the lines of raw wood with his eyes, deciding whether or not he should wake Casey.

  Bright morning sunlight glared through the single small window, filling the room with light that seemed overly bright. The
small single room was crammed with all manner of things that a young boy surviving on his own might collect over the years. From the useless items, like board games meant for at least two people, to stacks and piles of new clothes; cases of water, canned and boxed food, and just about everything in between.

  He would spend part of the day cleaning, organizing all of it to make room for Casey.

  Finally, he sat up, lifted the travel alarm-clock and wound it, matching the time to his watch, which he wound as well.

  “What time is it?”

  Matthew looked over to Casey, who hadn’t moved. “What? Oh, uh, almost ten. I didn’t realize you were awake.”

  “I’ve just been laying here for a little bit.” She sat up, looking around the shack. “Dude, I think you need to fire your housekeeper.”

  “Hey, it’s a bachelor pad, what’d you expect?” he asked with a smile. In the brilliant light of the morning, Matthew had a chance to see the girl, really see her, for the first time. Her round face, the point of her chin, her smooth, faintly olive complexion, he took it all in. Her thick brown hair fell almost to her shoulders and he could tell it had been chopped on, the ends ragged and misshapen. He imagined for a moment what she looked like with long hair. Her dark green eyes almost seemed to sparkle when she smiled.

  “What are you looking at, dude?”

  Matthew could feel the flush rising in his cheeks. “I… uh…” he started to stammer.

  “Hey, Matthew?”

  He looked at Casey, embarrassment making his face burn.

  “You’ve gotta learn to chill a little, dude. Really.”

  When she smiled at him he could feel his heart trip over itself for a beat. He took a breath, released it, and smiled.

  “I guess I’ve forgotten about social graces and all that in the past few years. Honestly, you’re the first living person I’ve seen in almost eight months. Sorry if I act a little goofy.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m probably a little off on my social skills as well. I gotta ask, where’s your bathroom around this dump?”

  Smiling, Matthew replied, “It’s not a dump, it’s a junkyard. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Matthew set the safety on the axe, and opened the door. Casey followed as he led her around the side of the shack and back between a pile of rusty car parts and a stack of several cars, most of which appeared to be from the early ‘60’s.