A few dots were on the horizon. Too far away to be sure, but Angie had learned to tell corpses from their movements. And these dots were corpses. Far away and staggering.
Soon, very soon, more dots followed. Many more dots. They quickly filled up the available space, covering the snow in dark lurching shapes. Clouds were forming overhead, almost moving along with them.
Angie watched over the next several moments. The mass drew near enough to leave no doubt. They were corpses, and they kept coming. Animals too. All marching slowly, deliberately. Like they were under orders.
There were hundreds of them. Thousands. Too many to count. They all marched to the edge of town and stopped, roughly where Angie knew the barrier to be. The mob covered the entire field.
Angie breathed out, looking at the sheer number of corpses and animals. "We may need plan B." She looked across to Maylee's platform.
The mob stood there, groaning and growling up at the walls. Angie could tell the corpses longed to come for them. She could tell the animals longed to rush the walls and rip them all to shreds. But they didn't. Nothing moved or attacked. They all stood, still and staring. Wanting.
Angie noticed movement in the mob. An odd rippling, moving closer to the walls. She watched, feeling the townsfolk and guards tense around her. Soon the ripple grew close enough for Angie to see the cause. Sharon moved among the mob, and the corpses parted as she passed. A group of people followed her. Angie could tell they were alive by how they moved, but they looked wild, feral. More bloodthirsty than the corpses or animals. They clung to Sharon like she was their god. Angie supposed she was.
Finally Sharon reached the front. She stepped to the edge of the barrier and looked up to Angie. For a moment the two women looked at each other in silence.
Finally Angie spoke. "Good morning."
Sharon smiled up at her. She cut right to the point. "Give me the children." The corpses around her moaned. The animals snarled. The humans grunted and licked open wounds on their arms. A few looked like they were beginning to have sex right there.
Angie chuckled down at her. "I've been thinking about that. Tell me, what are your thoughts on ‘fuck off?’"
Sharon stared at her for a moment, like she was thinking. The clouds grew thick and dark overhead. She frowned. "You honestly plan on standing against me?"
"We are all standing against you," said Angie. "The people with me refuse to be manipulated anymore."
"Manipulated?" Sharon said, raising an eyebrow. The clouds closed over every last bit of blue. "You mistake me for my sister. I'm not here to manipulate you! I am here to rip you all to squirming pulp!"
* * *
Beulah picked her way through the thick woods surrounding the back of World Memorial. She moved quickly among trees, her feet leaving light impressions in the snow.
A corpse staggered from behind a tree, a skinny man with large frozen holes in his cheeks. His rotten teeth snapped within the frozen openings. He had several tears in his abdomen, from which hung frozen guts, bouncing as she staggered through the snow.
"You must be lost," said Beulah, trying to move past him. "Your friends are out front."
The corpse staggered to block her, reaching. Beulah sighed and tapped him in the chest. He exploded in a mist of red and black.
She took a few more steps, heading for the back wall. She could see it up ahead through the trees. She heard movement behind a bush and stopped, sighing.
There was a second rustle and a panther leapt from the bush. It lunged at Beulah, all fangs and claws and snarling.
"Not now, cat" said Beulah, turning to face the cat as it flew through the air at her.
She reached out and tapped the cat on the head as it drew near. It exploded, sending a fine spray of fur and blood across the snow at her feet.
"Sorry," she said, stepping away. "I'm in a hurry."
* * *
Sharon snarled up at Angie. Angie could feel her rage. It radiated across the mob around her, up the walls and over the town. It was like a physical force. Angie kept her eyes on Sharon and her face calm.
The woods across the field shook violently. Angie knew a windstorm was coming. She cursed the luck.
Then remembered it wasn't luck. Sharon was responsible for all this. For the corpses, the animals, the violent weather. She also remembered the storm had avoided the sisters when they had fought earlier.
Those around her muttered nervously as the wind picked up across the field. Trees shook and snow swirled from the ground.
"Wait..." said Angie, keeping her face calm.
The windstorm hit. Or rather, it hit all around them. Sharon’s presence formed some sort of bubble protecting her, and them, from the wind. It howled and tore at the landscape, but the area around Sharon, the corpses and the town stayed clear. All around them, snow and debris blew through the air but didn't come near. It reminded Angie of a snow globe, only in reverse. They were under glass and the swirling snow was outside. It was strange and almost more frightening than a normal windstorm would have been.
She looked to Sharon. "Neat trick."
Sharon hissed up at her, loud enough to be heard. "I'll show you your own guts before you die!"
Angie felt the guards and townsfolk tense around her. They could feel Sharon's power and see the size of the mob just as much as Angie could. Angie knew she had to stay brave, to keep them from giving in to fear. Fear was death now.
She shouted back down at Sharon. "Quit talking and come the fuck on then!"
A large grin spread slowly across Sharon's face. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Sharon let out a long, keening cry. It was far too loud for its source, and seemed to come from every direction. Angie wanted to turn away but kept her gaze steadily on Sharon.
Sharon stopped and smiled. For a few moments silence hung over all.
Then the mob of corpses, animals and humans exploded around her. They roared and groaned and snarled, rushing at the walls of World Memorial.
"Here we go!" yelled Angie, bracing herself.
* * *
"Fire! Fire!" yelled Maylee. She didn't have to. The guards had opened fire around her, shooting down into the mob rushing for the walls. Maylee gripped the side of the ladder with her free hand. She whipped her binoculars over her neck, flinging them back over her shoulder and out of her way. Corpses staggered and the animals raced for town walls. The animals hit first, slamming into the walls with abandon and no regard for their own safety. Panthers, deer, boars and bears slammed over and over again. They rammed at the walls until they began to bleed from their eyes and snouts. They didn't stop.
"Keep shooting!" Maylee felt the ladder shake underneath her. The guards shot down into the animals and over them at the corpses. Animals cried out and fell, bloody into the snow. Corpses snapped their heads back as their heads exploded backwards.
The corpses reached the walls, dragging their dead frozen hands over the metal. They moaned as they tried to paw their way in. The animals kept slamming the walls. A few animals tried to ram through the corpses, crushing them in the process. A dead man with no hair slumped over, his spine broken, as a large elk tried repeatedly to ram the wall open through him.
The wind howled outside whatever protection Sharon was making. Bullets rained down on the mob as they slammed and pawed. Maylee looked left to right from her perch. Along the walls, townsfolk and guard fought back with any weapon they had. The ones with guns shot. Others lobbed jars of flaming gasoline, which exploded in bright strips of fire against the snow. Others threw down cinder blocks, stones, anything heavy enough to crush a dead head or break a feral spine. It was working, but there were still many of the mob left. Probably too many.
Maylee felt the ladder jerk violently beneath her. She looked down. Two bears and a deer were ramming the same spot in the wall, directly beneath her ladder. The wall crumpled and the ladder shook hard. Too hard. Maylee looked behind her and down. The ladder was extended with a chain strapping it to another l
adder that reached to the ground. The whole contraption was reinforced into the ground with stone and more chains.
With each impact of the animals against the wall, the chain that held the two ladders together was loosening, beginning to unravel.
"Oh shit," said Maylee, watching the chain. She started climbing down.
She was too late. One of the bears rammed the wall one more time and the chain unraveled. The top ladder, then the one Maylee clung to, fell forward, out over the mob.
Maylee screamed, bracing herself for impact. Then with a sudden jerk, the chain snapped taut again. The ladder stopped its fall, so quickly Maylee tumbled off of it. She caught hold of the ladder with one gloved hand.
She hung there, the second ladder now perpendicular to the ground. The chain holding the ladders together creaked in protest. Maylee swung back and forth on the ladder, trying to right herself. She couldn't.
Beneath her, just a few inches from her dangling feet, corpses groaned and reached.
* * *
Angie stood on her platform, looking down over the mob. Maylee was to her left, shouting orders to the guards on her platform. The ones on Angie's platform were firing into the mob. The townsfolk with her lobbed down Molotov cocktails and anything heavy. An older man with thinning hair tipped a cinderblock over the edge of the wall. Angie watched as it crashed into the upturned, groaning head of a dead young man with black rotten teeth. The young man's head exploded outward in a spray of thick black glop. He fell, the momentum of the block crushing him the rest of the way to the ground.
"Good job everyone!" yelled Angie. "Keep it up!" She wished she could help. She wished she could shoot a rifle or throw down something. But her ankle and her cane prevented that. All she had was her sword, and the enemy would have to get close for that, much closer than Angie was willing to let them.
She looked over the side just as a large bear slammed into the wall. It roared with frustration and rammed its head into the wall again. It looked up at Angie and bellowed through the blood pooling in its snout and mouth. Its eyes raged at her. It put its head down and slammed the wall so hard blood spattered against the metal.
Angie’s platform buckled. The bear slammed again and the platform swayed backward.
"Fuck!" yelled Angie, slipping to the edge of the falling platform. She hooked the handle of her cane over the edge. Those near the wall grabbed the edge with her. They held on tightly, trying to keep the platform from falling further. It was working, just barely.
The bear struck the platform again. Angie's cane twisted and the sword began to slip out. The platform inched backwards.
Angie took another step forward, her ankle crying out in pain. She grabbed the wall with her other hand.
"Pull!" she yelled. "Everyone pull!"
They did. Angie and the others strained as hard as they could. Slowly, the platform shifted the other way. Groaning with twisted metal, the platform swayed back toward the wall and stopped.
Angie and the others let go. The platform stayed put. Angie looked over the wall to see the bear staggering back from its last impact. It was bloody, beaten and furious. It staggered shakily but was clearly intent on making another run.
Angie pointed over the side. "The bear! Get the bear!"
The guards rushed back to their guns. The bear raced for the wall. A few guards got off shots, but they were too hurried to aim. The shots pock-marked the snow around the rushing bear. It snorted out blood neared the wall. Angie braced for impact.
A crack rang out from Angie's left. The bear's throat exploded across the snow. It grunted in pain and surprise as it fell. It slid across the snow, leaving a thick smear of blood, then slumped. Dead.
Angie looked to her left to see Park lowering his rifle.
The guards all had their guns back and ready. They resumed firing into the mob. Those with Angie threw heavy objects and homemade gasoline bombs. The platform was holding.
For now.
* * *
Park looked back from shooting Angie's bear. He cocked his rifle and glanced down at the small platform he stood alone on. He still had plenty of ammo. Satisfied, he turned back to the mob and resumed firing.
To his left, wind shook trees so hard that whole branches came loose. Somehow he remained untouched. He figured Sharon had something to do with that. He ignored it and kept shooting. He fired a shot into the forehead of a dead woman with white tangled hair and no eyes. Her head exploded and she fell to the snow, immediately lost amongst the mob. Park cocked his rifle and chose his next target.
He heard grunting behind him. At first he thought it was an illusion. A groan or growl from below echoing off of something behind him. But it came again and there was no doubting its source.
He turned to see a pair of small hands gripping the platform. A second later Lilly's head appeared. She strained with effort as she tried to pull herself onto the platform.
Park lowered his rifle and sighed. "What the fuck, Lil? Get back with the others!"
Lilly grunted and strained, pulling herself up further but not all the way. "Fuck them. I'm with you!"
Par set his rifle down, stepped to the back of the platform and knelt. He grabbed Lilly's hands and pulled her the rest of the way up, then let go of her hands and picked up his rifle again. She stood and shook her hands, clenching and opening them.
"Just keep out of the way," said Park gruffly, leaning back over the wall.
He found a new target. An old man with a large hole torn in his neck. Frozen tendons were visible, moving up and down as he worked his dead jaw. Park aimed for his head.
"Get him!" came Lilly's voice right next to him. Park looked down and saw her, standing on her toes, peering over the edge of the wall.
"Hurry! Get that old bastard!"
Park and shook his head. He looked back at the man, fired, and the man’s head exploded backwards.
"Woo hoo!" cheered Lilly. "Take that!"
Park cocked the rifle. Lilly pointed. "There! Get the fat guy!"
Park followed her gesture and saw a large shirtless man staggering amongst the mob. His eyes oozed frozen pus and his nose was gone. He looked like he had once been muscular, but had let himself go before he died.
"He's not that fat," said Park, aiming.
"He's a fatty!" yelled Lilly. "Die, fatty!"
Park fired and the man's forehead ripped open as his bullet slammed through it. He slumped and fell.
Park cocked the rifle. "Who's next?"
* * *
Dr. Graham peeked out around a stack of barrels behind which he’d been hiding for hours. Many hours, trying to keep out of sight.
His whole body ached, both from cold and the severe beating he'd received from the townsfolk. He could feel that his face was swollen. He couldn't open one of his eyes and his split lip stung from the cold.
He listened to sounds of battle come from the walls. No one was in sight. Everyone was off fighting whatever was happening outside. It sounded big. Whatever it was, the town had been up all night preparing for it. Dragging out the time he had to hide. Dragging out the time he had to cower in the cold.
Anger grew anew in him. An anger he'd been nursing as he hid. At first he'd been sorry, ashamed of what he'd done. No longer. Now he was mad. Seething. He'd given his all trying to help them. Untold hours slaving, giving his considerable talents to trying to find a cure. Trying to save the world. The world!
Back when he’d first come to World Memorial, he could have hidden like they had. He could have simply taken shelter in some hut and waited for others to help him, like they had. But no, he had come forward. He had made his talents known to Angie. He had stepped up. After all he'd been through. After his beloved Beverly had died in pieces in front of him. Screaming past her hot gurgling blood as a pack of what had been people ripped at her. He'd seen that, and still he had tried to see hope. He'd tried to help.
And how had he been treated? Beaten. Dragged by a child and made to prostrate himself before the ungra
teful cowards making up this town. They'd punched and kicked him. He hated them now. He hoped they all died, screaming and hopeless like Beverly had.
He took one last look around him, making sure all was clear, then stepped out from behind the barrels, shivering. He needed shelter. And help. Maybe if he could escape and find the woman from his dreams, she could help him.
He walked through the town worriedly. Shouting and shots came from all around. Something slammed against the walls. Groans in the thousands. It sounded like the town was surrounded. He hoped it wasn't. He also hoped no one saw him.
He was lucky and no one did. He turned a corner and found a blind alley he'd used before. There were no people there. It was quieter, too. It was too narrow for the others to have set up any battle station.
And the wall at the end was weak. He knew it was. He'd made it so, weeks before.
He cursed as he walked up the alley and saw that the wall was boarded up. The weak spot was reinforced.
He drew himself up. He had to be strong. He had to try. He started pulling at the boards, twisting them loose of their nails.
* * *
Dalton stood in the center of town, looking at the other children. They were tied to a large post driven deep into the frozen ground, chains stretching from the post to the waist of every child. Thick leather straps held the chains in place.
Dalton looked behind him. A moat, dug overnight and filled with gasoline, stretched around the children and the post. Guards with rifles stood around the moat. Just beyond the moat sat a beaten old pickup truck. It was the only vehicle they had left. It barely ran, but if worse came to worse, they would need it to get the kids to the fallback point.
Dalton remembered to include himself in that group.
He looked back to the children. A few of their straps were loose. He walked over to one boy and tightened the strap as much as he could without causing much pain.
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