The Living Dead 2

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The Living Dead 2 Page 21

by John Joseph Adams


  We caught up with them and I found myself in the lead again. Deke and Jorge flanked me. Terry and the Reverend rode along behind. I kept my eyes on the foothills and said nothing, but I noticed the wounded, hurt look that Terry gave Janelle and me.

  The day grew hotter. I wished it would rain.

  We lost Jorge’s horse before we reached the hills. The rest of our mounts were stumbling badly, the last of their strength spent. Jorge wept as he took a hatchet to the poor animal. I wondered how he managed the tears. I was so dry, I couldn’t spit, let alone cry. We all dismounted, leading our horses the rest of the way. I didn’t much cotton to the idea, but it was either that or let them keep dropping out from underneath us. Janelle complained about having to walk, but none of us paid her any mind, except for Terry, who offered to carry her. He blushed, withering under her scornful glare while the rest of us chuckled at the image of Janelle riding piggyback on his shoulders across the desert.

  The terrain changed, becoming rockier. Soon enough, we reached the foothills. Deke stopped us, shading his eyes with his hands.

  “Y’all see what I see?”

  We looked where he was pointing, and I whistled.

  “I’ll be damned.”

  There was a narrow canyon entrance wedged between two of the hills. The landscape seemed to arch over it, and for a moment, it almost looked like a door. Then I wiped the sweat from my eyes and looked again. Nope. No door. Just sloping canyon walls, shadowed and probably a lot cooler than where we were standing.

  “Let’s make for that,” I said. “At the very least, it’ll get us out of the sun for a spell, and give us a place to hide. Might even be a stream or a pool.”

  The others seemed to brighten at this. They picked up their pace. Even the horses seemed to sense that our luck was changing. They trudged forward with renewed strength. I looked back the way we’d come. There were a few birds circling in the haze. From that distance, I couldn’t tell if they were dead or not, but they weren’t heading in our direction. There were, however, three small objects limping across the desert. Judging by their size and movements, I figured them for dead dogs or coyotes. They were too far away to be any real danger, but I figured we should put some distance between them and us.

  We made our way into the canyon mouth, and again, I was reminded of a door. We went single file—Deke and me in the lead, and Jorge and Terry bringing up the rear. A cool breeze dried the sweat on my forehead. I smiled. Despite everything we’d been through, I suddenly felt better than I had in days. Underneath those sloping cliff walls, the sun couldn’t touch us. With luck, the dead wouldn’t either.

  The passage narrowed. There was a slight but noticeable downward descent. It went on like that for a while. Then the walls pressed closer. I was just starting to doubt that we’d be able to squeeze the horses through it when the canyon rounded a corner and opened wide.

  I stood there gaping, half-convinced that what I was seeing was a mirage, until Deke cleared his throat behind me.

  “Get a move on, Hogan. What’s the hold up?”

  “See for yourself.”

  I moved my mount aside so that they could come through. One by one, they walked out of the narrow fissure and stopped, sharing my reaction.

  “This sure ain’t on no map I’ve seen,” Deke whispered.

  “No,” I agreed. “I don’t reckon it is.”

  Spread out before us, from one horizon to the other, was the biggest damned valley I’ve ever seen. It was filled with all kinds of trees and plants—things that had no business growing in the desert. The lush, green foliage was quite a shock after the barren wasteland we’d just crossed. A broad, clear stream ran through the center of the valley—not quite a river, but too big to be a creek. The air in the valley was different. It smelled just like the aftermath of a thunderstorm, and it was more humid, but not as hot as the desert had been. Although we couldn’t see any, the trees and bushes echoed with the sounds of wildlife—deep-throated rumblings and shrill bird-calls like nothing I’d ever heard before. Understand, this wasn’t just some desert oasis. This was an entire hidden valley, nestled between the surrounding canyon hills. The terrain was unlike the rest of the desert. I couldn’t figure out how such a thing could be.

  The Reverend must have been thinking the same thing, because he said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was back home.”

  “Why’s that?” Terry asked.

  “Because it reminds me of the forests back in Virginia.”

  “It’s an oasis,” Deke said.

  “Too big for that,” I told him. “It’s a whole valley.”

  Janelle stared at the treetops, swaying in the breeze. “How is this possible? Wouldn’t someone in Red Creek have known about this?”

  “Does it matter?” Deke shrugged. “Whether they knew about it or not, we’re here now. I reckon the Reverend ought to thank God for us, cause as far as I’m concerned, our prayers have been answered. We’ve got shelter, shade, food, and water. These trees will hide us from those dead birds.”

  We led the horses down to the stream. The thick undergrowth slapped our legs and brushed against our faces. Clouds of mosquitoes and gnats buzzed around our eyes and ears, but we didn’t pay them any mind. Unlike the dead, the bugs only ate a little bit.

  The horses drank eagerly. We did the same, laughing and splashing. The water was cold and clear, which struck me as odd. There’d been no snow atop the hills. Running in from the desert, the stream shouldn’t have been so frigid. Drinking it made my teeth hurt, but I didn’t care. I gulped it down until my stomach cramped. Then I threw up and drank some more, splashing water across my face.

  Whooping, Deke plunged into the stream and waded out until the water was up to his waist. Terry, Jorge, and I stripped off our gear and followed him. I turned back to Janelle and the Reverend, who were watching us from the bank.

  “Come on in,” I said through chattering teeth. “The water’s fine.”

  “I doubt that.” Janelle smiled. “Your skin is turning blue.”

  “Hell,” Deke laughed. “My damn balls are shriveling up.”

  We all chuckled at that, even Janelle. Terry and Jorge splashed each other. Deke ducked below the surface and came up sputtering. I motioned to Janelle and the Reverend.

  “Seriously, y’all should come in.”

  “I’m fine here,” Janelle said. “It wouldn’t be ladylike.”

  The Reverend shook his head. “I’m afraid that I can’t swim, Mr. Hogan.”

  “It ain’t that deep,” Deke told him.

  Before the Reverend could respond, Jorge interrupted.

  “What’s he saying?” Deke asked.

  Jorge put one finger to his lips and cupped his ear with his other hand.

  “I don’t hear nothing,” Terry said.

  The bushes along the stream bank rustled. The horses whinnied and glanced around, stomping their feet. I reached for my pistol, realizing too late that I’d left it on the shore with the rest of my gear. Then the undergrowth parted and Janelle and the Reverend both screamed.

  I was expecting another dead thing—maybe a horse or a person—but what charged out of the bushes was no corpse. It was the biggest damn lizard I’d ever seen. It stood on its hind legs, towering over the horses, about fifteen feet long from head to tail and probably weighing a ton. Despite its size, the thing moved fast. Arms outstretched, it ran on two legs towards Janelle and the Reverend. Each hand had three fingers. The middle fingers were equipped with claws the size and shape of a grain sickle. It had a big head and an even bigger mouth full of arrowhead-sized teeth. Its tongue flicked the air as it made a hissing, throaty sort of roar.

  Shrieking, Janelle dove into the stream. The Reverend ran after her. I noticed that he’d pissed his pants. He paused, glancing back and forth from the water to the lizard, as if trying to decide which one he feared the most.

  The creature slashed the throat of Terry’s mount. The poor beast took two faltering steps and then fell
over. The other horses scattered. As they did, three more giant lizards emerged from the bushes and attacked them. The cries the horses made as they were slaughtered was one of the worst sounds I’ve ever heard.

  We hurried to the far side of the stream while the lizards busied themselves with their kills, tearing and ripping, sticking their snouts into the horses’ abdomens and rooting around. I glanced back and noticed that the Reverend had waded into the water up to his knees. He stood there trembling, watching in horror as the lizards feasted.

  “Come on,” I shouted. “While they’re distracted!”

  He shook his head.

  “Somebody has to help him,” Janelle said. “One of you get back over there.”

  “The hell with that,” Deke said, wading onto the shore. “I ain’t even going back for my gear. You think I’d go back for him?”

  Janelle gasped. “He is a man of God.”

  “Then I reckon God will keep him safe,” Deke replied. “Either that, or he’ll meet God real soon.”

  “I’ll get him.” Terry splashed into the stream.

  Cursing, I jumped in after him.

  “Hogan,” Deke yelled. “Where the hell are you going? Get back here!”

  “Our guns are over there,” I told him. “We’re going to need them.”

  That was my excuse, anyway. Deep down inside, I wondered if I was doing it for Janelle, instead. I waded after Terry. We made it about halfway across the stream before pausing. The lizards were still eating. So far, they’d ignored the Reverend. He stood there, glancing back and forth between them and us. His chin quivered and his legs shook.

  “Come on, Reverend.” I waved at him, trying to keep my voice low. The movement attracted the attention of one of the lizards. It raised its bloody snout and snorted, cocking its head sideways and studying Terry and me. I’d been charged by a bull once, while crossing a pasture. The lizard had the same look in its eyes as the bull right before it charged.

  “Terry,” I whispered, “don’t move. Just stay still.”

  He nodded. The color drained from his face.

  “Reverend,” I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. “You need to get in this creek right now. It don’t matter if you can’t swim. Terry and I will carry you. But get your ass over here.”

  Nodding, he inched forward. The water rippled around his knees. His lips moved in silent prayer. His eyes were closed.

  “That’s it,” I whispered. “Easy now. Nice and slow.”

  I glanced at the lizards. All four of them watched us now. They stood stiff and tense, ready to spring. One of them was missing an eye. The left side of its face was a mass of scar tissue left over from some long-ago fight.

  “Giants in the Earth,” the Reverend muttered. “Leviathan.”

  It was hard to hear him over the churning water. “What?”

  “It’s a Bible verse, Mr. Hogan. There were giants in the Earth in those days.”

  “Only verse I know is ‘Jesus saves’. Reckon I’ll take your word for it.”

  He stopped, gasping as the water reached his crotch. One of the lizards crept towards the stream.

  “C-cold,” the Reverend stammered. “It’s so cold.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve got you. Terry, give him a hand.”

  “Hogan,” Deke called.

  “Little busy right now,” I said.

  The lizard on the bank lowered its head and sniffed the spot where the Reverend had been standing. The other three turned away from us and stared into the forest. I followed their gaze and saw why. The three dead coyotes I’d noticed earlier had followed us into the canyon. Now they stood under the tree line, watching us with blank, lifeless eyes. One of them was missing an ear. Another’s broken ribs were sticking through its fur. They didn’t pant. Didn’t growl. They just stared. Flies hovered around them in clouds.

  “Oh hell,” Terry said.

  The Reverend’s eyes grew wider. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He started to turn around, but I stopped him.

  “Never you mind. Just give Terry your hand. Let’s get out of here before they decide to have us for dessert.”

  As Terry reached for the Reverend’s trembling hand, the lizard on the bank leaped into the stream, splashing water over our heads. At the same time, the dead coyotes lumbered into the clearing. The other three lizards went for them. The one with the missing eye seized a coyote in its massive jaws and shook the corpse back and forth.

  The Reverend and Terry both slipped, sinking below the surface. They came up sputtering and flailing. The Reverend clung to Terry’s shoulders, almost dragging him back down again. The lizard surged forward, squealing. I splashed water at it in an attempt to scare it off, but all I did was make it swim faster.

  “Let go,” Terry choked. “Can’t breathe…”

  Sobbing, the Reverend clutched him tighter. They both went down again, and then the lizard was on them, close enough that I could feel its breath on my face. It smelled like rotten meat. Its jaws closed around Terry’s head and lifted him out of the water. His legs and arms jittered, and I could hear him screaming inside its mouth. The creature gutted him from groin to neck with one of those sickle-shaped claws, while holding the Reverend beneath the surface with its hind legs.

  On the far shore, Janelle, Deke, and Jorge screamed. I backpedaled, unable to take my eyes off the slaughter. The lizard was busy with Terry and the Reverend, and paid me no mind. Neither did the other three. They feasted on the horses and coyotes.

  I stumbled out of the stream and shouted at the others to run. Without looking back, we plunged into the forest, panicked and terrified. Soon, the greenery swallowed us.

  We made camp inside a hollowed out tree. I’d never seen anything like it before, though I’d heard tell of some big trees out in California, and reckoned this might be like them. It was large enough for the four of us to sit inside comfortably. The top had snapped off at some point, but the trunk was still standing. We were able to fashion a crude roof using leaves and branches. There were bugs inside—beetles and ants and such—bigger than any I’d ever seen, but harmless. Janelle was afraid of them, but she was more afraid of what might be outside.

  All we had was what had been in our pockets—a bit of paper and a pencil, Deke’s compass, a pouch of chewing tobacco, Janelle’s frilly lace handkerchief, some money, and other odds and ends.

  It got cold after the sun went down. We had no matches or flint. We huddled together for warmth. Janelle fell asleep with her cheek resting on my shoulder. When she breathed, her breasts rubbed against my arm, soft and warm. That made everything we’d been through almost worth it.

  A few lizards passed by, close enough for us to see them. None of them were like the ones from the creek. One was the size of a cow, with a long neck and even longer tail. It sniffed around the base of the tree, but was more interested in eating leaves than it was in us. Another one, a baby judging by its size, had a bill like a duck. One of the creatures shook the ground as it lumbered by. Trees snapped, crashing to the earth. We saw its legs and hind end, but not the rest of it. Some of the lizards had feathers. Most didn’t. Right before sundown, the forest got real dark as something flew overhead. I poked my head out and looked up. Through the branches, I caught a glimpse of a flying creature with a fifteen-foot wingspan. It reminded me more of a bat than a bird.

  We stayed there all night. We didn’t talk much. When we did, it was in short, hushed whispers so we wouldn’t attract attention. Janelle and Deke slept. Jorge shut his eyes, but opened them every time there was a noise from the forest. Deke cried in his sleep, but I didn’t mention it to him. After all, I cried, too. Only difference was my eyes were open.

  “What are they?” Janelle asked the next morning.

  “Big damn lizards,” Deke told her.

  “I know that. But where did they come from?”

  “I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Y’all know about these big bones in the rocks that folks dig up out of the ground, righ
t?”

  “Sure,” Deke replied. “There’s rich people who collect them.”

  Janelle nodded. “They’re called fossils—all that remains of the dinosaurs.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s the word. I reckon these lizards are living versions of those fossils. They’re dinosaurs.”

  “The Reverend might have disagreed with you on that,” Deke said. “He seemed to think they were something out of the Bible. I don’t remember any dinosaurs in the good book.”

  “Well, the Reverend’s dead. I don’t reckon he’ll be any more help.”

  Janelle frowned. “You should be more respectful of the dead, Mr. Hogan.”

  “I usually am. But our recent experiences with the dead have soured me a bit. It’s hard to be respectful of something when it’s trying to eat you.”

  “But the Reverend wasn’t like those dead.”

  “No, he wasn’t. I reckon he was one of the lucky ones.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” Deke said. “I thought dinosaurs were supposed to be extinct.”

  “Somebody forgot to tell them that.”

  Jorge glanced at each of us as we talked, clearly trying to follow the conversation. His expression was desperate. I smiled at him. He smiled back and then pointed outside.

  “I’m with him,” Deke said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “We need to find our way back to the desert,” I agreed.

  “But the dead are still out there,” Janelle said.

  “They’re here in the valley, too,” I reminded her. “But there aren’t any dinosaurs in the desert. Given a choice, I’d rather take my chances with just the dead, rather than worrying about them both.”

  Deke rubbed the whiskers on his chin. “You remember how to get back to the canyon entrance?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I got all turned around when we ran. I was hoping one of you knew the way.”

 

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