The Risen: Courage

by Marie F. Crow

  “Any chance it’s Chapel?” she asks me with a glimmer of hope in her words.

  “You saw him last. You tell me,” I whisper back still trying to see into the room without having to fully turn the corner yet.

  “He said he was going to the armory.” She leans to look down the hall before becoming one with my back again. “Any chance he got lost and didn’t want to ask for directions?”

  “It’s not Chapel. Chapel has no reason to be lurking in an empty room,” I tell her. Plus, I have never been that lucky.

  Crouching low, I look through the opened doorway waiting for a hail of gunfire to explode around me like it always seems to happen in the movies. It doesn’t happen. This isn’t a movie. If it were, I would have ejected it long ago and left a scathing review as all people who are safe behind a keyboard do.

  The room once served as a science lab, containing row after row of tables for someone to hide behind. To one side is a little room where the teacher would have taken anyone who had the misfortune of messing up their experiment. I know rooms like those well.

  “Hello?” I call out creeping along the room like the wall is my long lost best friend.

  “What are you doing?” Aimes shouts as soft as she can.

  “Seeing if anyone is in here.”

  “You think they are going to answer you? Yeah, over here around the corner. I’m waiting with a very large and sharp knife. Come on over. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  “Is this really when you want to start pointing out the lack of logic in my actions?”

  “You’re right. I should have started months ago.”

  I have been watching the room as we held our little exchange. Still, nothing moves. I’m about to chalk it up to something passing by the window when a little head peers around one of the table’s sides.

  “April?” I call to the little girl who is staring at me.

  “What are you two doing?” Rhett asks behind us and we both scream. He chuckles bending down to extend his arms to the little girl who is already running to them. “Hey, Pet,” he whispers into the girl’s hair, still smiling at how easily he frightened us. He leaves us panting from the shock while we lean against the wall.

  “They are fine.” We hear Rhett tell someone who our screams must have alarmed. “Just a case of over active imaginations.”

  “Jerk,” Aimes says, but I know the real word she wanted to use is taking a little longer to grace her tongue.

  “Let’s go!” Chapel shouts from the hallway, and when asked so nicely, how does one refuse the request.

  “Did you find them?” I ask Rhett when we catch up to him and Chapel.

  “No.”

  “Did you find a way out?” Aimes asks more interested in our well-being than that of a cult. I suppose she has a point.

  “Yeah.”

  “Want to share it with us?” she asks, a little kindly.

  “That’s why I was sent back,” Rhett answers as if she should have already figured it all out. I guess our imaginations aren’t as vast as he mentioned because we haven’t.

  We follow the men out into the bottom hallway. Our bodies are laden with the many duffel bags that carry our humble belongings. Rhett is whispering encouraging words to the little girl who hides her face in his broad shoulder. It’s odd to watch, and at the same time, my nonexistent, biological clock starts to tick.

  “I wouldn’t head that way,” a voice purrs from the darkened library.

  It stops us all with fear-filled curiosity. Rhett hands April to me as Aimes strips us both of the bags in preparation for running. No matter how it begins, there is always running.

  Aimes and I melt backwards with April as the shadow steps forward. Ahead of its entrance rolls shot vial after empty shot vial like the ones we saw brought from the crate.

  “God works in mysterious ways,” Travis says as he emerges into the dim hallway. “Selma and I thought we would add to our flock here, but here we find our flock was added to the damned.”

  “What have you done?” Chapel’s voice vibrates with shock. We know what he has done. Sometimes you just have to hear, or see, the evil to really believe it.

  “Cleansed the world,” Travis says with the complete belief in his actions.

  Something inside Chapel finally breaks. He reaches for Travis, pulling the man to him with the strength only rage can provide. “There is nothing holy about you.” Each word is clipped, spoken behind locked teeth.

  “I never said there was,” Travis says.

  The low lights catch the flash of the blade one second before we can shout the warning.

  Chapel recoils with each stab from Travis. The knife slides in and out of his stomach and I scream with each motion. Chapel reaches for the neck of the man, but his hand finds only the red beaded necklace holding the cross he wears. I’m staring at the floor when the red beads drop to the tiles at their feet. Each ruby, red bead hits the tile before it slowly rolls. Before long, they are cascading down and rolling as a cloud towards me. I back away from them as if they are what my mind has made them. Holding April’s head to my shoulder, I step from their path as the imaginary blood from Chapel spills past me.

  I glance up in time to watch Travis’ head explode from the side exit of a heavy caliber gun. Chapel staggers backwards into Rhett’s arms when Travis’ body falls. Dropping the gun that ended the life of the man who has stolen so many lives himself, Lawless runs to his fallen friend.

  Marxx is blocking Aimes from making her way to Chapel. She is fighting and screaming to get around him. I stand, dumbfounded in the middle of it all, clutching a child who isn’t mine and avoiding the red beads still rolling around the tiles following the many worn grooves of the floor.

  “Come on, man,” Rhett says, pressing against the torn flesh bleeding freely from the knife’s damage. “We are almost out of here.”

  “Rhett is right. We have the way cleared. Get up.” Lawless tries to tug on the taller man to motivate him to move. Chapel only stares at them both knowing the truth of what is going to happen.

  “We have to move,” Marxx whispers, placing his hand over Aimes’ sobbing mouth.

  Turning to see what he has found, Travis’ promise comes from the direction of the gym. His flock who once found reason to murder so many behind their hate for the “demons” are now the very things they led a holocaust to destroy. They stare at us, locked in their stalking state. They are newly turned and not starved enough yet to push their advantage. Their new minds are still learning how to use the new extensions they have. Like the children from the school, they will wait until we give them a reason to pounce.

  “Go,” Chapel says softly, but the many eyes still rotate to him with the sound of his voice. “Go on. I’ll hold them.”

  “You can’t even hold yourself. Get up!” Lawless demands and the eyes roll to him.

  Chapel reaches for the back of Law’s neck, pulling them forehead-to-forehead. The misery in their eyes in synchronized and reflecting in all of ours that are watching.

  “Listen,” Chapel says to the younger man whose heart is breaking behind the walls trying to hold it together, “take care of my girls. I won’t be around to do it anymore. They are a handful, but they love each of you in their own way. You remember that. Those girls are your humanity. They always have been. Don’t become him. Don’t let this world break you the way it did him.” Chapel winces from the pain, shuddering him. “I’m not going to make it, Brother. I’m ready to go home. I want to see my kids again. I want to hold my wife.”

  Lawless reaches for the gold chain around Chapel’s neck. He fishes the cross from behind the bloodstained shirt, snapping the chain to wrap it around his friend’s hand. Chapel grins as his hand closes on the metal effigy.

  “I got this, Brother,” Chapel says, pulling his gun from the holster on his side.

  The same hols
ter that once winked at me with encouragement. The same gun that had once seduced me into action. I saved a group of strangers with that gun. Now, it will once again face an army to secure a group’s safety, but this time, its owner won’t be the one to leave.

  Lawless pulls slowly from the shared embrace. His face is wet with tears even as his face sets with resolve. He walks backwards from Chapel as if afraid to turn his back to what is about to happen. Marxx is lifting Aimes off the ground as she fights to stay. Waiting eyes flip from one pair to another as they debate what is happening.

  Rhett turns, scooping the mute April from me as he moves past. The glass beads turn to dust under his boots. The red powder is ground underneath him and deeper into the marks on the floor.

  Chapel’s mouth is already moving with his silent prayers as he stares at his death. My feet move forward to him as he pushes from the wall.

  “Not this time,” Chapel tells me, seeing me move towards him. “Don’t let me be another haunting, Hells,” he tells me, bringing a conversation to life that centered on an evergreen that served as the North Star that night. “I want this.”

  “Let’s go,” Lawless says taking my hand. His fingers wrap around mine, pulling me away from the man who once laid everything on the line for me. He pulls me from the man who stood beside me when nobody else would. The preacher’s son is going home.

  Aimes is screaming his name from the cafeteria. Chapel smiles when hearing it.

  “Run,” Chapel says turning to the fray that have become animated.

  Lawless and I turn and run stopping only long enough to scoop up the spare bags as they rush forward. Law tells me to not look back. It’s a warning we are all told when something horrible is happening. We never listen, and like Lot’s wife, I look back.

  I watch as they reach him despite the few rounds he was able to fire. I watch as they pull Chapel down into their madness. I watch as the grinning skull disappears, slowly swallowed by the things that it had meant to represent. The silver tear catches the light at the last moment as he falls and I turn to salt with mine.

  CHAPTER 36

  It requires Dolph and Marxx to haul the shrieking Aimes from the cafeteria. The courtyard has been cleared of the Risen Dolph lured in to act as a distraction. The men never went upstairs. They came below.

  The windows of the top floor explode, sending flames erupting from their casings. We flinch from the explosion. The safety glass glitters in the air as it cascades down around us. Travis had set fire to the floor before infecting his people. Now it is fully engulfed in the man’s one last attempt to purify those who have escaped from his grasp.

  Only a small handful of those who lived on that floor before we arrived are gathered under the cold rays of the moon. They stare with gaping mouths as their home becomes a cauldron of lost hopes. There should be more, so many more, standing here.

  “What happened?” I ask Lawless. He still has a death grip on my hand as if he fears I will run back inside with one final attempt to rescue Chapel. He needn’t.

  “Ryan’s wife turned faster than she should have. She killed a few before she was stopped. The rest ran out the door not thinking.”

  “Ryan?”

  “Shot her after she attacked their daughter. Then he shot himself.”

  The horrors keep mounting and we haven’t yet made it out of the gate. Paula races towards us thinking that Aimes is hurt. When she hears the name Aimes is screaming, her running stops. Aimes is hurting. She isn’t hurt.

  Paula’s eyes look to me and what she sees there sets her jaw to quivering before she can regain herself. Something cold overcomes her face as she stares behind us. For once, I don’t look back. Let someone else become the pillar of salt.

  “Jesus Christ,” Marxx says seeing whatever Paula has, “you people just won’t die.”

  With one hand Lawless turns as he pushes me forward, reaching to draw a gun from his waistline with the other. I still don’t look.

  “Leave her,” Rhett tells Lawless, pressing the barrel of the gun to the ground. “She’s got nothing.”

  Collecting Aimes, I finally spare a look behind me and I lose my grip on our violent pixie.

  “Kill her, Law!” Aimes is screaming across the span between them and us. She turns to me forcing the duffels I carry open. “Give me a gun. I’ll kill her!”

  Selma limps towards us coated more in blood than clothing. She still bleeds from an attempt to bandage the gunshot. Her arm is torn and dripping crimson like rose petals thrown from a flower girl’s white basket as she walks, but her smile is still as sweet.

  “Rhett,” she calls out, “you wouldn’t just leave me here?”

  Rhett says nothing to her. His face doesn’t even twitch with her quilt-laden question.

  “I’m sorry,” she tries again. “I love you…”

  “Where the truck is a gun?” Aimes is muttering beside me as she turns the bags inside out.

  She isn’t watching Rhett the way the rest of us are. She isn’t holding her breath, fearing what he may or may not do. He only stares at her, and as he hugs April a little tighter to him, his hand doesn’t tremble.

  “April,” Selma calls to the little girl who nestles deeper into Rhett’s arms hearing her name, “come to Mommy. Come here, Sweetheart.”

  “Like I said,” Rhett tells us as Aimes ransacks the duffels. “she’s got nothing.” He turns from the woman he once placed his faith in. He lets her stumble and fall the way she made his soul stumble as she tore him apart mentally. “Let’s go.”

  Marxx lifts Aimes again and she fights to be released still screaming about finding a gun. Paula helps me quickly repack the bags. Her hands tremble in tempo with her jaw.

  “You can ride with us,” I tell her, knowing she would never ask for the comfort she needs right now. I know because I wouldn’t ask either.

  “I’d like that,” she tells me with a voice that holds steadier than her hands. “You might need me to sedate Aimes.”

  I smile, believing the woman completely. Aimes is mute as we climb into the truck. The men have deposited our bags in the truck’s bed, but I can’t start the truck yet.

  Climbing back out, I walk to where Rhett is starting his bike. I don’t ask him for permission. I simply lift April from the back of the bike as he watches me in the side mirrors with a grin.

  “Idiot,” I tell him, carrying the girl who is more like a doll than a human to my truck while Selma screams her name.

  Sliding her into the lap of Paula, I climb back into the truck and start the large engine. It roars, threatening the vehicles in front of me. Paula laughs a soft chuckle as the cars pull out of my way with such a simple act. I lead the exit from what we had hoped would be our safe refuge. We leave behind the many bodies of our loved ones who will forever live in the rooms of our hearts. With every beat, their memory will be reborn inside of us. We will search for their faces in our dreams. We will hear the sounds of their voices sometimes when the wind blows just right. We will mourn them, but the words we never said to them, we will mourn the most.

  I watch in the rear mirror as my wishes fade away in a parade of painful pride. Their floats are decorated with the flashing décor of lost dreams and I wave as they go by like a child marveling at their wonder. I wave at every desire I once cradled in those walls as smoke takes it from sight. What else can I do but once again drive into the night with no knowledge of what tomorrow might bring.

  The loud bikes fall in behind me. I’m amused to see Dolph astride the large beast, which once belonged to J.D. I can almost hear J.D. cussing over it and my smile grows larger. Dolph has lost everything as we exit the place he fought to keep secure. It feels fitting that the men now should adopt him.

  As we reach the road, I see the right blinker flash from Law’s bike. So, I turn right just as another man had once instructed me to. The cars following us pull off in differ
ent directions as we come to intersections. Each lost car signals their final goodbye with short waves as a salute.

  We can’t promise them a safe future. No one can. Each must find their own path now for better or for worse. Finding it is the heart behind what it means to have courage.

  Courage is not a goal set in the dark throes of desperation. It’s the need to survive. It’s the need to push through the fears and find the strength to face the perils ahead. It’s not a brass ring to be claimed or a trophy to boast over. It’s the personal level of discomfort we all must face when no outstretched arm is there to help you. Travis was right about one thing. Only a soul lost to the deepest pit of despair, void of any other option but of fighting for each new day, can truly understand what it means to claim life in its shaking, defiant fist. Courage isn’t something you are born with. It’s something that life carves out of you along the way. To say one has courage is to say one has been through hell and back so many times they have grown bored with life’s attempts to break them.

  “She wasn’t really my mommy,” Aprils says from the warmth of Paula’s arms. “My mommy was turned into a monster and tried to eat my daddy.”

  “Mine too,” Aimes says as lifeless as April. “Mondays just suck.”

  I can still see the smoke towering into the night sky behind us. It curls its way into the heavens where I hope Chapel is at peace. I hope he is standing with the family he never truly let slip from his mind. I hope he can find the forgiveness he longed for from the actions he had no other recourse. I hope he does, because one day, I hope I do too.

  Flames flicker through the trees as it buries more than just the memories we leave behind. If I listen hard enough, I can still hear the strands of the hymn being played.

  Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come. ‘Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far and Grace will lead me home.

  CHAPTER 37

  It isn’t long until we find ourselves behind the line of skulls as the road widens before us. Once, there were five that would back stare at us with their threatening eyes. Now, only three remain.