World Memorial

by Robert R. Best

  And where the hell was she?

  From what she could make out of her surroundings, the corpses were heading somewhere other than the church. Either a second group was gathering elsewhere, or the one group was on the move and growing as they went. Either option was bad.

  She forced herself to focus. To fully decide where she was. She finally did, and realized the corpses were headed toward West’s house, but she doubted that was the goal. At the angle the corpses were heading, it was a straight line from West’s house to World Memorial. Which meant it probably wasn’t a second gathering. It was one big mob, growing and moving toward the town.

  She cursed under her breath. Corpses moved slowly, but her fastest way to town was blocked. She’d have to go around, and hurry her ass up doing it.

  She devoted part of her already broken attention to keeping track of where the corpses were. Tried to keep herself far away from them while still moving as quickly as she could. She knew they were heading away from her, that they had a more pressing concern than her. Still, she didn't want to risk getting too close to one.

  She darted around a close grouping of trees. Three corpses loomed into view, before she had a chance to dodge or react. Two fat men and a short, thin woman. All three were grey and covered in black, frozen scabs.

  "Whoa!" said Maylee, skidding to a halt. Her proximity shook them from whatever pulled them away. They noticed Maylee for the first time. They groaned and reached for her.

  Maylee stepped back hurriedly, nearly slipping in the snow. She tossed her bat from her right hand to her left. The trio staggered forward, the two fat men on either end and the short woman in the middle. Maylee swung her bat upward from the left and slammed it into the left man's cheek. A nail punctured the skin, spilling black blood down his shoulder. The force of the blow carried the man's head to the right, slamming into the skull of the other fat man. A squelching crack sounded as their frozen rotting heads collided.

  The two men staggered back, black blood running from cracks spreading across their skulls. The bat was still lodged in one of their cheeks, pulling Maylee forward. The short woman continued forward, clawing at Maylee's coat.

  Maylee wrenched the bat from the fat man's cheek, a grey flap of skin hanging from the nail. Inertia pulled Maylee to her left as she staggered back, away from the short woman. The woman kept coming, hissing and chattering her rotten, frozen teeth. Maylee recovered and swung the bat back toward the woman. The woman was too near. The bat missed and Maylee's arm collided with the woman's skull. The bat flew from her hand, skittering across the snow to land a few feet behind the woman.

  The woman moaned in anticipation and leaned in to bite. Maylee brought up her boot and kicked the woman in the stomach. The woman buckled, then overcorrected and fell over backward. She crashed into the snow, her head thudding on the bat. The woman moaned and tried to climb to her feet. The bat moved with her as she swayed back and forth. Maylee realized one of the nails was embedded in the back of the woman's skull.

  Maylee stomped over and slammed her foot down on the woman's forehead. The woman's head cracked against the bat and the snow behind it. A loud squelch told Maylee she'd driven the nail in further. The woman hissed up at her, black blood oozing between her yellow teeth.

  Maylee slammed her foot down on the woman's head. Then again. Then a third time. The woman's head split open, sending muck and slime across the snow. The woman's hands clutched once more at the empty air, then fell.

  She picked her bat up from the ground and whipped it back and forth in the air to clean it. The two fat men were stumbling back. By now she was ready. She rushed to the closest one, bringing her bat over her head. She slammed down on the top of the fat man's head, so hard he dropped to his knees. His already cracked skull split the rest of the way open spilling out bone and dark slop down his shoulders. He fell over backward, away from Maylee and the bat.

  Still holding her gore-covered bat angled toward the ground, she whipped her head up to look at the remaining fat man. He had stopped at some point. He stared at her, black blood oozing from splits in his head.

  Maylee panted, staring at him. "Well?"

  For a moment Maylee thought the corpse actually looked conflicted. He wanted to come for her. She could somehow see it in his expression. He opened and shut his rotten mouth. Then he turned and slowly stumbled away.

  Maylee relaxed her posture and watched him go. "Well okay then," she said. She whipped her bat again to clean off the gore. She took two quick looks around to see if any other threats were near. Then she ran on.

  She ducked through trees and dodged around brush, trying to cut a curving path around West’s property and back to World Memorial. She heard groans and growls all around, rustling and crunching snow as corpses and animals moved along. She reminded herself to watch closely. Getting too near would clearly shake them from whatever spell was on them.

  Was that it? A spell? Whatever was going on, whatever force was pulling every corpse and animal in who know how many miles to a single mob, that woman was behind it. Who was she? Fuck, what was she?

  Maylee cursed herself for thinking of the woman again. The smiling image was back, burning into her insides again.

  The thoughts distracted her a second time. She ducked around a large stack of tangled, frozen brush. A bear loomed up in front of her.

  Maylee sucked in a shocked breath and skidded to a stop. Once again, she was too close. The bear shook its head, as though breaking free of the spell, and noticed her. It roared, rising up on its hind legs.

  "Fuck!" yelled Maylee, staggering back as the bear towered over her. She swung her bat into the bear's stomach. The bear cried out as nails thudded into its midsection. Fresh blood dribbled down into the snow.

  Maylee wrenched the bat free, tearing off meat and fur. The bear roared, furious and clearly in pain. He swiped at her as she stumbled back. He missed, but just barely.

  Panic crept up Maylee's spine as she backed further and further away from the bear. It kept coming, swiping at her as it stomped across the snow, dribbling blood behind it. It roared and swiped. Maylee kept backing away, swatting the paws away with her bat as best she could.

  The bear kept coming. Maylee backed away, wanting to turn and run but afraid to take her eyes off the bear. It was too close to risk looking for an exit. Panic spread across her shoulders and gripped her chest. She was terrified she'd run out of room as she stumbled blindly backward.

  "Dammit just fuck off!" she yelled, fear fueling her anger. She slammed the bear across the snout. The nails tore gouges through it. The bear roared and kept coming. Maylee kept backing up.

  Then she ran out of room. She felt something poke her back and stopped. After a second of pure panic she realized she'd backed into a large pile of brush. Frozen sticks and branches rose up behind and to either side of her. She was boxed in.

  The bear stopped, seeming to know she was trapped. It roared at her, blood dripping from the bloody flap torn in its snout.

  Then she realized the bear hadn't stopped because it knew she was trapped. It stopped because of the spell. The call. She pushed herself further back into the brush. The bear blinked, letting out a confused grunt and shuffled a bit, trailing blood across the snow.

  Maylee pushed back further, grimacing as brush dug into her back. "Come on..." she whispered.

  The bear blinked again. It looked confused, like a person who'd forgotten the reason they'd walked into a room. It grunted, almost sounding frustrated. Then it turned and walked away, trailing blood along behind it.

  Maylee panted, keeping herself pressed against the brush as the bear headed off. Her chest pounded so hard and fast she could hear it in her ears. The bear kept going, soon far enough away that Maylee allowed herself to relax. She moved away from the brush, panting and waiting for her chest to quiet.

  The bear headed off, out of sight. Maylee waited a few more seconds, then ran on.

  * * *

  Angie stood on the porch in the cold
morning light, the faithful members of the Guard surrounding her. Park was by her side. Dalton, Carly and the children were in the front room, peering out the door and windows.

  In front of the porch stood Elton and what seemed like the rest of the town. No, Angie told herself. Some had stayed with her. Even now, some were crossing over to her side, turning to face Elton and the others. Lines were being drawn. Angie knew what they were all inching toward. She didn't like it, but she had no idea how to stop it.

  "You heard that woman!" yelled Elton. "Just let this happen and all this ends! All this death and misery ends!" Several with him nodded and murmured their agreement.

  Angie raised an eyebrow, leaning forward on her cane. "'Let this happen?' What a nice way to put it. You mean murder, Elton. You mean let you kill these children in this house." She heard the children stir in the room behind her. They were afraid, and Angie hated that she was scaring them further. But those with Elton had to realize what it was they were proposing. They had to come to terms with it. She had led dozens of people to their death thinking she was right. And she was not going to let Elton do it.

  "So many have died already!" said Elton. "For years! My wife, my daughter. People torn to death by the thousands! We can fix this but you're in the way!"

  For a moment Elton looked sad. Wounded and hurt. Angie almost felt pity for him. He took a ragged breath and spat out his next words. "And what the hell do you care? She said your kid would be alright!"

  Angie felt rage build in her. He was right. She could step aside and save Dalton, like she'd done at the zoo. She could save Dalton, and the rest of the world, by just letting these children behind her die.

  She took a breath in and let it out slowly. Her heart thudded in her ears. "Yes, Elton, we've all seen death. Felt it, tasted it, for so long now we almost wonder what the world was like before. It seems like a dream. And we tell ourselves we would do anything to make it right. Anything."

  "So why the fuck—"

  Angie cut him off. "But you know what I realized, Elton? You know what I fucking realized while you were feeling sorry for yourself? Lives are more important than any goal. More important than any plan. More important than whatever fucking crazy idea occurs to you. So if you want to kill these children behind me because some crazy bitch said you should, you will have to kill me to do it!"

  Elton breathed in and out, staring at her. He said nothing, but she could tell he was considering doing it. Seriously considering it.

  She looked around at the others in the town as they stared back at her. Some looked conflicted. The rest looked mad, determined. Determined to get to the children whose deaths would save them. She looked back to Elton. "Is that what you want, Elton? Us all to kill each other? Who'd be in charge then?"

  Elton stepped closer to the house, his face growing harder. "If you stand down there'll be no need to do that."

  Angie leaned back, taking her weight off her cane. Her ankle complained but she ignored it. She felt the Guard, and Park, tense around her. More were crossing from Elton's side to hers. But not all, and not enough. The ones still with Elton were tensing as well. Tensing in preparation to storm the house.

  She did her best to stare Elton down. "I don't trust you to be in charge, Elton."

  "And I don't trust you!" said Elton, taking another step forward. He was almost to the porch. "What kind of leader are you? What kind of parent are you? You lead everyone around you into danger! You made your boy a freak and your daughter a—"

  Angie drew her sword and pointed it at him. He stopped as she angled it down at his throat. "Say one more word about my fucking kids, Elton. I dare you."

  Elton chuckled, ignoring the point at his throat. "You going to fight me? You can barely walk!"

  "I can," said Park, stepping past Angie and punching Elton across the face. Elton fell away from the porch, stumbling in the snow. Park stepped down after him.

  Elton stood his ground, spitting blood into the snow. "Back off, goat roper! This is between me and her!"

  "I walked all the fucking way here," said Park, punching Elton again. Elton stumbled back. "To tell her that a bunch of crazy fucks were after some kids."

  Elton swung at him. Park stepped back and kicked Elton in the stomach. Elton fell to his knees. Park stepped over to him. "So I would be very fucking pissed if you killed them anyway!"

  Park punched downward at Elton. Elton rolled aside, surprisingly nimble for his age. Park stumbled, nearly falling forward. He corrected as Elton climbed to his feet.

  The two men circled each other. Angie lowered her sword and slid it into her cane. She walked down the steps. "Stop it! This has gone on long enough!"

  Park whirled at her, pointing. "Back off, Angie!" Angie stopped, seeing raw pain and anger in Park's eyes. And Angie realized then, remembered the zoo. Remembered Park's daughters dying. Remembered Lori dying in Park's arms. They were children. This wasn't a pissing contest. This was catharsis.

  Angie stepped back, nodding to Park. Park turned back. Elton had taken the opportunity to close the gap. He punched Park across the face. Park's head swung to one side. He rammed his fist into Elton's stomach, doubling him over.

  Angie watched the two men fight. She realized the whole town was just standing and watching. She knew what they were thinking, that this wasn't just two men fighting. This was a fight for control of the town. Park had filled in for Angie, but the meaning was still there.

  "What's wrong with you?" yelled Elton, swinging and missing. "Don't you want to end all this misery? Haven't you had anyone die?"

  "Don't go there, son," said Park, punching Elton in the chest.

  Elton stepped back, then swung at Park's jaw. The hit connected. "My daughter died right in front of me!"

  Park grabbed Elton by the coat and pulled him to his face. "Was she fifteen?" Still holding Elton with one hand, he punched Elton in the stomach. "Was she killed by the lunatic who'd been beating your ex-wife?" He punched Elton in the groan. "And did you slice his throat open with a fucking dart?!" He slammed his forehead into Elton's nose and let go. Elton fell back, doubled over and bleeding from his nose.

  Park stomped over and kicked him across the face. "Stand up!"

  Elton remained where he was, clutching his stomach.

  Park kicked him again, knocking him over. "Stand the fuck up! At least that bald fucking prick was standing when I tore his fucking throat out!"

  Elton climbed to his knees. He tried to stand and couldn't. Blood leaked from his nose and a dark bruise spread across his cheek.

  Park stood over him. "So if you fucking think you've had it so fucking rough, then you stand the fuck up and you kill me like I killed him!"

  "Park!" yelled Angie. Park whirled on her, his face a contortion of pain and rage. Then he relaxed a little. He breathed in and out, clenching his fists. He turned back to Elton.

  "So get back to me on that," he said, then stomped away, back toward the porch.

  Angie looked at the crowd gathered around. They were all staring at her. At Park. At Elton. At the children hiding in the house. They stayed on their respective sides, but Angie could see the ones with Elton had lost some of their nerve and she was grateful for it.

  Park reached Angie and looked at her. "Let's go check on the kids."

  "You bet," he said.

  They both headed toward the house. The guards on the porch stood aside to allow them up the steps. The guards watching the town around them, the ones who'd joined Angie's side stood their ground along the walls of the house, like they were forming a protective barrier around the children. Angie and Park crossed the porch and went inside.

  The living room was full of children. They all looked scared. A few looked awestruck at Park. Lilly looked especially pleased.

  "Hey!" said Lilly.

  "Yeah, sprout?" said Park.

  "You should have hit him in the nuts more."

  "Maybe next time."

  Angie shut the door, checking one more time. Everyone was ther
e. Dalton stood in the corner with some of the younger children. Carly stood at one end of the room, clutching her clipboard.

  Then a gun cocked.

  Dr. Graham stepped from the kitchen. Holding a pistol, trained at Angie.

  Twenty One

  Sharon and her flock moved through the woods. She stepped softly across the snow, her bare feet leaving light footprints in her wake. Her flock was behind her, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Some of what they said was discernible. Some was devolving into gibberish.

  "Soon, soon," said one.

  "We will make them all feel this freedom, this blood!" said another, a naked old man who had ripped out hunks of his own hair. Blood coated his chest, dried in the pattern left when he had smeared it in ecstasy.

  "Blood cold! Blood hot!" said a third.

  And a fourth just grunted incoherently.

  The mob of corpses surrounded Sharon and her flock. They staggered through the woods, their frozen rotten bodies dragging against trees and tearing off hunks of frozen flesh. They kept going. They were far too many to count. They were everywhere.

  And they kept coming. One by one, corpses would stagger in from among the trees and join the group. Animals were coming too, falling in line with the others and walking along. Bears and bobcats and deer. Boars and elk and panthers. And a host of others, too small to register. All fell in line with the group as Sharon reached out to every animal and corpse nearby.

  Yet around Sharon and her flock, a wide space stayed clear as they all moved along.

  "You see?" said Sharon. "You are protected by me."

  "Protected teeth!" said one. "Protection of knives and sinew!"

  "They will all know freedom!" yelled a woman in the back, her young bare breasts smeared with blood and shit and semen. "The freedom of pain and fuck rot!"