Apocalypse Then

by Al Lamanda

  Teal looked at his pocket watch. “About an hour.”

  “How many you figure?”

  “From the sounds of them, a lot.”

  “What if they decide to rush the door?” Sands said.

  “From the looks of them I don’t think they can decide anything,” Teal said. He looked at the film of sweat on Sands’ face. “How’s the arm?”

  “Hurts like a son of a bitch,” Sands said. “Fucking thing had a bite like a rabid wolf.”

  “Let me see,” Teal said.

  Sands extended his left arm. Teal checked the cauterized bite. The surrounding skin was tinted green in a circular pattern. He touched the skin and Sands winced.

  “We got no medicine or anything for the pain,” Teal said. “Best take a few pulls on the jug, but not too much.”

  Sands poured a few ounces of moonshine into his coffee cup, added some hot coffee and sipped.

  “We got fresh water at the pump and enough food for a week,” Teal said. “We can just hole up in here until Lane and the others show up.”

  Sands gulped from his cup and set it down on the table. “And if Lane don’t come?” he said. “And if they decide to rush the door? And if the food runs out before Lane does show up? And if there’s a thousand of them out there when Lane shows up, what then?”

  Teal rolled a cigarette and struck a match on the table. “We’ll sleep in shifts,” he said and touched flame to cigarette. “Anything happens we wake the other up. Tomorrow, after some sleep we’ll figure things out.”

  “Who can sleep with that noise out there?” Sands said. “What the hell are they doing, anyway?”

  “Sands, listen to me,” Teal said. “I know you’re hurting, but you got to hold your mud. Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll fix us some food. You’ll feel better after you eat something.”

  Sands emptied his coffee cup in two quick swallows, then lifted the moonshine jug and took a long gulp.

  “Go on,” Teal said.

  Sands stood up from the table and settled into the bed against the back wall of the cabin. He tossed a bit to get comfortable, then went still.

  Teal finished his cigarette and coffee before building a fire in the woodstove. It was a flat surface stove that was wide enough to rest a fry pan and boiling pot on top. When the fire was hot enough, he opened up a large can of stew and set it to rest on the stove. Then he sat at the table, placed two cocked revolvers and a cocked Winchester by his elbows and waited for the stew to heat.

  Strange, but the ghouls must see the chimney smoke by now yet their chirping was no louder and they hadn’t banged on the door or windows.

  Maybe they were blind or had poor eyesight? That would explain their slow moving ways and inability to get out of the way of gun aimed at them.

  On the bed, Sands started to snore lightly.

  Teal filled his cup with lukewarm coffee and rolled another cigarette. Behind him the stew started to bubble a bit. He turned and looked at the woodstove. The stovepipe ran up the wall and flush into a circular hole cut into the roof.

  Teal looked at the shelves against the wall to his left. They were full of tools. Saws, hammers, wire cutters, boxes of nails and such. Things a lineman would need for repairs over the course of the winter.

  Sands started to cough and rolled over in the bed.

  That was another thing. Infection was probably setting into Sands’ arm and if that was the case, in a matter of days he would be at the end of it. A blood infection, once set, consumed all unless the infected limb was removed.

  And even them it was no guarantee you would live.

  Sands coughed himself awake and sat up in the bed.

  “Stews ready,” Teal said.

  Sands came to the table and flopped into a chair. His face was drenched in sweat even though it wasn’t really that warm inside the cabin.

  “I hear them still chirping like birds out there,” Sands said.

  “They’ve made no move to come in,” Teal said. “I’ll get the stew.”

  Teal used a towel from the shelf to carry the can of stew and two plates to the table. They ate listening to the soft chirping noises made by the ghouls.

  Sands filled his coffee mug with moonshine and sipped it between bites of stew. “Why can’t they shut up!” he snarled at one point. “It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Max, we’re in a bad spot here, but keep your head,” Teal said. “Getting drunk won’t help.”

  “It ain’t your arm that’s on fire,” Sands said. “It’s mine.”

  “Let me see,” Teal said.

  The skin on Sand’s left arm was greener and spread to the size of a silver dollar around the bite mark.

  “Quit pulling on that jug,” Teal said. He poured some moonshine on the towel and gave it to Sands.

  “Hold that on it,” Teal said. “Let the alcohol soak into the skin.”

  Sands placed the towel over the wound on his left arm. “Roll me a smoke, would you,” he said.

  Teal rolled a cigarette, lit it and passed it to Sands.

  Suddenly and for reasons unknown to Sands and Teal, the ghouls started chirping louder and louder outside the cabin.

  Teal and Sands looked at each other.

  The chirping became frantic and Teal and Sands picked up their revolvers and aimed them at the door.

  Tale and Sands held their revolvers steady, bracing for a rush that didn’t come. Then, a voice screamed in the distance. The chirping was replaced by snarls and growls as the screams grew louder and just as suddenly grew silent.

  “What is…?” Sands said.

  Teal motioned with his left hand. “Listen,” he whispered.

  Sands strained his hearing to listen to the odd sounds coming from outside the cabin. Pulling, ripping noises, like flesh being torn away from bone.

  “What is that?” Sands whispered.

  “Sounds like they’re eating,” Teal whispered.

  “Eating?” Sands whispered. “Eating what?”

  “Now what,” Teal whispered. “Who?”

  Chapter 14

  From a hundred yards out, Lane started feeling suspicious about the open doors to the Army outpost. The watchtowers appeared unmanned, as did the open gates where two or more soldiers should have stood their post.

  “Charlie, you see what I see?” Lane said.

  “I don’t see what you don’t see,” Red Foot said.

  Riding one of the two strays, Little Sky suddenly started speaking frantically in Crow to Lane.

  “Christ sake, Charlie, what’s she saying?” Lane said.

  “She say the soldier men left the fort because of the walking sickness,” Red Foot said. “She say she knows this because she saw some soldier men on the reservation a few days ago. They had the sickness.”

  “The sickness,” Lane said. “Ask her what the sickness causes them…”

  Lane paused as he caught sight of something in a watchtower. It was just a fleeting glimpse and it could have been just the low sun in the sky, but still it gave him cause for concern.

  “What?” Red Foot said.

  “Second watchtower on your left,” Lane said. “I thought I saw something.”

  Little Sky kept squawking in Lane’s ear.

  “Tell her to shut up,” Lane said.

  Red Foot spoke to Little Sky in Crow and she quieted down.

  “Poule, Scripture, we’re dismounting at the gate,” Lane said. “We’re walking in with rifles cocked. Charlie, tell this Crow music box her job is to hold the horses. Tell her if she tries to run or scatter the horses I’ll shoot her in the back and take her hair and eyes so she can’t enter the next world.”

  “That’s harsh, Marshal,” Red Foot said.

  “Tell her!” Lane barked.

  Red Foot spoke to Little Sky and she responded to Lane.

  “She says for you to commit an unnatural act with yourself,” Red Foot said.

  Lane grinned. “At least she has some fire in her.”

  They reac
hed the open gates and dismounted. Little Sky took the reins of all six horses, looked at Lane and nodded.

  “Charlie, take the point,” Lane said. “Poule, Scripture, take the rear. Rifles at the ready.”

  Single file, Red Foot led them past the gates and into the outpost. Ten feet past the gate, they paused and scanned the outpost interior.

  “I think the Crow woman is right,” Red Foot said.

  “The Army doesn’t desert its post,” Lane said. “They hang you for that.”

  “Well this Army did,” Red Foot said. “Look around. Ain’t nothing here but dirt.”

  “I am looking,” Lane said. “And unless they deserted and decided they needed twenty foot high ladders for campfire wood, there should be ladders all along the catwalk and watchtowers, but there ain’t.”

  Eyes scanned to the catwalk.

  “That don’t figure,” Poule said.

  “It does if somebody is hiding up there and they don’t want you to come up after them,” Lane said. “Poule, Scripture we got a half dozen bottle of horse liniment. Get them and some rags for fuses. We’ll burn them down.”

  Poule and Scripture turned and walked back to the horses.

  “The west tower,” Lane said to Red Foot. “That’s where I saw something.”

  Poule and Scripture returned with the bottles of liniment. Lane took one and held it high. “I’ll burn the catwalk and that tower you’re hiding in!” he yelled. “Then I’ll shoot your burning body when you try to escape the fire unless you show yourself immediately.”

  “That’s harsh,” Red Foot said.

  “Shut up,” Lane said. “I’ll count to ten. After that I light the fuse.”

  A few seconds ticked by.

  “Eight…seven…six…!” Lane shouted.

  Maura slowly came out of the watchtower and looked down at Lane.

  “Anybody else!” Lane shouted.

  “My son, Seth,” Maura said. “He just a boy.”

  “I find out different I won’t shoot you, I’ll take it out on the boy,” Lane said. “Now get down here. Toss the scatter gun to my man. Poule, you catch it.”

  Poule walked to the wall and Maura dropped the shotgun into his waiting hands.

  Maura slid a ladder over the side and Seth went down first. Lane and Red Foot met them at the base of the ladder.

  “Do you mind telling me what you were doing?” Lane said.

  “Hiding,” Maura said.

  “From?”

  “You.”

  “Why?”

  “Follow me,” Maura said.

  A few minutes later, Maura, Lane, Poule, Scripture and Red Foot stood before the stockade jail cell and stared at the savagely snarling ghouls.

  “Jesus Christ, what are they?” Poule said.

  “They used to be soldiers,” Lane said.

  “What are they now?” Poule said.

  “Christ, what a stink,” Scripture said.

  “Scripture, go get that Crow woman and bring the horses while you’re at it,” Lane said.

  Scripture nodded and left the hallway.

  “They act like they don’t even see the dead they’re standing on,” Lane said.

  “How many are in there?” Poule said.

  “I counted twenty three alive,” Maura said.

  Lane turned to Maura. “This is why you were hiding?”

  “No,” Maura said.

  Poule returned with Little Sky. “The boy is watching the horses,” he said.

  Little Sky looked into the jail cell and immediately starting screaming in broken English. “Shoot…them…shoot…them…!”

  “They’re contained,” Lane said. “Charlie, tell her they’re contained.”

  “I…understand,” Little Sky said. “Shoot…them…”

  “She speaks…you understand English?” Lane said.

  “Shoot…them,” Little Sky said.

  “I need a reason,” Lane said.

  Little Sky moved closer to the iron bars and the ghouls became more excited and reached out to her.

  “Get back here!” Red Foot said and went to grab her.

  “Wait,” Lane said.

  Little Sky rolled up the left sleeve of her dress and slowly extended her arm toward the iron bars. The ghouls reached for her, snapping their teeth, growling, shoving each other, stepping over the dead.

  Little Sky lowered her arm and stepped backward to Lane. “Shoot…them,” she said. “Now.”

  “Everybody outside,” Lane said.

  In front of the stockade, Lane turned to Little Sky. “What do you know about this walking sickness you haven’t told me?” he said.

  Little Sky looked at Red Foot and spoke to him in her Crow language.

  “She say…they eat people,” Red Foot said.

  “People?” Lane said. “They eat people.”

  “Nobody eats people,” Poule said.

  “They do,” Little Sky said in English.

  Lane looked at Maura. “What do you know about this and what’s your name, anyway?”

  “Mrs. Maura McCain, and the boy is Seth,” Maura said. “We have a small ranch where we train horses for the Army. About two weeks ago, my husband and our hired man rode out to the Crow Nation to buy some ponies to train. He should have been back in three days, four at most. Our hand returned yesterday morning in the same condition as those soldiers. I had to kill him. Later, we came across a group of them wandering the country. One of them was my husband. I had to kill him, too. My son doesn’t know and I would appreciate it if it weren’t mentioned to him that I killed his father.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence.

  “I’m sorry,” Lane finally said.

  “We came to the outpost for protection,” Maura said. “Now where do we go?”

  “We stay here tonight,” Lane said. “Once we close the gates nobody gets in.”

  “What about her?” Maura said and looked at Little Sky. “She seems to know something about this we don’t.”

  “I agree,” Lane said. “Let’s close the gates and fix us some supper in that mess hall and we’ll talk about it them.”

  “What about those soldiers?” Maura said.

  “They’re not going anywhere,” Lane said.

  “Ma, more people coming!” Seth shouted from across the street.

  Lane and the group rushed to the gates. Two men in a wagon were racing toward the outpost.

  “Going to kill their horses,” Red Foot said.

  “Let them come,” Lane said. “From what I’ve seen of these…whatever, they don’t seem capable of driving a wagon. Keep your rifles cocked just in case.”

  It took several minutes for the wagon to arrive and pass through the open gates. Driven by an older man, he yanked the horses to a stop and jumped down. The younger man by his side also stepped down and stayed near the wagon.

  “Who are you people?” the older man said. “Where are the soldiers? My son needs a doctor right away.”

  “Let’s start with who are you,” Lane said.

  “John Anderson and this is my son Joseph. I own a spread about ten miles south of here. My son Robert is in the wagon.”

  Lane walked to the wagon to look at Robert.

  He was a young man of about thirty, with dark hair. He was asleep or unconscious, Lane couldn’t tell which. His face was covered in sweat and even though the wagon was still, his body appeared to twitch slightly.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Lane said.

  Anderson touched Robert’s forehead as he looked at Lane. “My son was bitten on the arm,” Anderson said. “Three days ago.”

  Chapter 15

  Teal could see Sands was in a bad way now. Asleep in the bed, Sands was drenched in sweat and shivering at the same time. Every once in a while, he turned and let out a soft moan.

  It was obvious they couldn’t stay in the cabin much longer. Infection had set in and Sands would probably die from it unless they got out and made it to a doctor. The nearest doctor was at the
Army outpost, a day’s ride from the cabin.

  Was Sands even in condition to ride? Maybe now, but not in another day or so if the infection grew worse and left unchecked it would spread like fire on tumbleweed.

  Outside the cabin the ghouls had quieted down and were almost silent. Maybe they had left? Maybe they were asleep? Did they sleep? Hell, were they even human?

  On the bed, Sands shivered. Teal left the table and covered him with a green blanket from the shelf. Then he went to the woodstove and started another fire. As the wood crackled, he looked up at the ceiling, at the hole in the roof where the stovepipe fit through.

  At the pump, he filled the coffeepot with fresh water and set it on the stove to boil some fresh coffee. He would need it to make it through the night. He would sleep in the chair and keep guns at the ready.

  At the table he opened up a can of peaches, drank the syrup first and ate the peaches while the coffee percolated. When it was ready, he filled a cup and rolled a smoke and sipped and smoked in silence.

  After a while, Teal felt his eyelids grow heavy. He would need sleep and soon. Outside the cabin the ghouls were so quiet they might no longer be there. He couldn’t risk opening the door to find out, not with Sands in the condition he was in.

  Teal finished the coffee and cigarette, sat back in the chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

  He opened his eyes when Sands coughed so loud it woke him up. Teal stood up and went to the bed. Sands was drenched in sweat and still shivering. He opened his eyes and looked at Teal.

  “I could use some water,” Sands said.

  “Can you sit up?”

  “I think so.”

  Teal went to the pump and filled a cup with cool water and brought it to Sands. It was a bit of a struggle, but Sands managed to sit up in bed. He took the cup and swallowed the water in several quick gulps.

  “Roll me a smoke, would you?” Sands said.

  “Do you want to sit a while?”

  Sands nodded. “Give me a hand.”

  Teal helped Sands to his feet and took him to the table. Sands was weak and needed food and sleep if he were to ride. Teal rolled a cigarette, lit it and gave it to Sands, then filled a cup with hot coffee.

  “Feel like eating something?” Teal said “Some jerked meat or canned peaches.”