Apocalypse Then

by Al Lamanda

  Lane pulled his Winchester and dismounted. “Everybody stay where you are. Charlie, grab you rifle and let’s check out the hotel,” he said.

  “My son needs that doctor,” Anderson said.

  “Mr. Anderson, there isn’t a soul about,” Lane said. “We’ll check the doctor’s office just as soon as we get back.”

  Red Foot dismounted and followed Lane up the steps and into the lobby of the posh and ornate Big Sky Hotel. Lane drew a wood match from his shirt pocket, struck it against the door and lit a wall lantern.

  Lane scanned the large, well furnished lobby. “Light a few more oil lamps, Charlie.”

  Red Foot lit several more wall lanterns and followed Lane to the front desk. “Nothing. Nobody,” Lane said.

  “I’ll check the second floor,” Red Foot said.

  “Be careful,” Lane said.

  While Red Foot took the stairs, Lane took an oil lamp and entered the dining room, the kitchen and pantry. There were enough canned goods to feed an Army for a month. Why didn’t they take the food when they abandoned the town?

  Lane found a small office in the hallway. He went behind the desk and checked some of the drawers and found nothing. He opened a closet door and looked at the open safe. He hauled out a heavy metal box, opened the lid and lifted a four inch stack of bills. He replaced the bills and left the office.

  Red Foot was coming down the stairs. “Not a thing,” he said.

  “Let’s go,” Lane said.

  Anderson was missing from his wagon when Lane and Red Foot returned to the street.

  “Where is he?” Lane said.

  “He wouldn’t listen,” Scripture said. “He’s in the doc’s office.”

  Lane looked above the general store. A light in the window from an oil lamp came on and he turned to Joseph. “Best get up there in case your father needs you,” he said. “Take your rifle.”

  “Mr. Lane, we can’t stay in the street like this,” Maura said.

  “I know,” Lane said. “If you like, wait in the hotel lobby. Poule, go with her, take your rifle and Little Sky.”

  Seth took a seat on the long sofa in the hotel lobby. “Ma, I really feel sick,” he said.

  Maura felt Seth’s forehead. “Deputy, do you think you can find some cold water for my son?” Maura said to Poule.

  “I’ll try the kitchen,” Poule said.

  Lane went up to the doctor’s office where Anderson was checking cabinets and shelves for medicine. There were bottles of pills, drugs and packets stacked three rows deep.

  “Do you know anything about medicine?” Anderson said.

  “I know when I’m sick,” Lane said.

  “All this medicine here and I don’t know what to look for,” Anderson said.

  “Pa, what did the doctor give me that time I broke my leg when I fell off a horse?” Joseph said.

  “That was twenty years ago, Joseph,” Anderson said. “And your brother doesn’t have a broken leg.”

  “Mr. Anderson, there’s a shelf full of medical books there,” Lane said. “I suggest you grab a few that might apply and go to the hotel and read up on fevers and such.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Anderson said.

  “Cold milk and water in the freezer in the kitchen,” Poule told Maura when he returned to the lobby. “Ice blocks are still half frozen.”

  “Bring a cold glass of milk,” Maura said. “Please.”

  While Poule returned to the kitchen, Maura had Seth lay down on the sofa. Little Sky stared at the boy.

  “He hasn’t much time,” Little Sky said.

  Maura looked at Little Sky and their eyes locked.

  “Charlie, Scripture, let’s check the Sheriff’s office,” Lane said.

  The Sheriff’s office was located around the block, a stand alone, brick building with iron bars in the window.

  Lane peered into the dark window. He motioned for Red Foot to open the door and Scripture held his Winchester at the ready.

  Red Foot pushed open the door and he and Scripture rushed in, Winchester’s held in the rapid fire position.

  Lane walked in between them and struck a match. He lit the oil lamp on the wall, walked to the desk and lit the oil lamp on the wall behind it.

  “Charlie, light that other lamp in the corner and check the cells,” Lane said as he sat behind the desk.

  Red Foot grabbed the oil lamp off the wall and he and Scripture opened the door that led to the cells and entered.

  Lane searched the desk and drawers. The log book had a last entry dated three weeks ago. The Sheriff wrote that he sent his deputy to the Army outpost for help with the problem of the madmen.

  Madmen?

  The Walking Sickness?

  Red Foot and Scripture returned from the back room.

  “Nothing,” Red Foot said.

  “Let’s get to the hotel and tell everybody to stay put,” Lane said. “Then we’ll search every building in this town.”

  “The sick one bit him?” Little Sky said to Maura.

  Maura nodded. “Yes.”

  “He hasn’t much time,” Little Sky said. “The children get sick quicker.”

  Anderson and Joseph entered the hotel lobby, carrying Robert by the shoulders and legs. They gently set him down on the second sofa.

  “Joe, get those medical books,” Anderson said.

  “From the doctor’s office?” Maura said.

  “Maybe there’s something in these books can help figure this out,” Anderson said.

  “I’ll make a pot of coffee,” Maura said. “Little Sky, you help me. Seth, don’t get off the sofa.”

  “Mr. Anderson, you and your son keep your rifles close,” Poule said. “I’m going to look for the Marshal.”

  “Charlie, you come with me,” Lane said. “Scripture, Poule, you see anything fire a shot. Otherwise we’ll meet back at the hotel.”

  The gunsmith shop was fully stocked. Lane lit an oil lamp and looked around the store. “Enough ammunition and weapons to supply the Army,” he said. “Why didn’t they take any when they left?”

  “Want I should stock up?” Red Foot said.

  “Stuff your pockets for now,” Lane said. “We’ll come back for shotguns later.”

  The dry goods store was fully stocked as was the general store, men’s and women’s clothing store and every other shop and store in town.

  “Only thing we ain’t checked is the church,” Red Foot said.

  At the edge of town sat a massive stone church that had a towering steeple, a large lawn out front and a small home connected to it by a breezeway.

  A dozen wide, stone steps led to massive oak doors that were locked tight from the inside. Windows had iron bars on the outside and oak shutters on the inside.

  “The church is a fortress,” Red Foot said.

  “Built that way in case of flood, twister or attack,” Lane said. “Only fireproof building in the whole town.”

  “What now?” Red Foot said.

  “Back to the hotel,” Lane said. “Then I want to check the doc’s office.”

  Alone, Lane entered the doctor’s office and sat behind the desk. Doctor’s kept records and journals of patients and sickness.

  Lane found a journal in the top drawer of the desk. He read by oil lamp. The doctor made entry’s that came to a sudden stop three weeks ago. He wrote of fever and madness that plagued town residents. Driven to insanity by fever, residents would attack without cause or provocation, bite and consume human flesh. Nothing short of death stopped the inflicted from attacking. No medicine or drugs produced any results when tried on captured, inflicted residents. One hundred and thirty nine dead buried within two weeks.

  Lane paused to roll a cigarette.

  It is unknown what caused the fever outbreak or what causes it to spread. I have noticed that if an inflicted person bites an uninflected person and that person survives, he develops the fever within as short a time as twelve hours. Less time for children. Once the fever takes hold it doesn’t
break and the inflicted grows worse by the hour.

  The final entry read; I have been bitten by a patient I was attempting to treat. He drew blood on my left shoulder and arm. He was put down by Sheriff O’Brien, but I fear it is too late. My last official act as town doctor is to warn the Army to quarantine the town and surrounding county and to ask the governor for assistance. I hope and pray the rider sent to deliver the message is successful in his journey.

  Lane closed the journal and extinguished the oil lamp.

  Chapter twenty-three

  An hour before sunset, Teal spotted a large crowd of ghouls walking in the general direction of the town of Big Sky.

  He slowed the horses and flanked the ghouls to their left about a hundred yards off. They didn’t notice him and kept plodding along at their slow, awkward pace.

  At the rate they were moving the ghouls would reach Big Sky inside of three or four hours.

  “C’mon,” Teal said and cracked the reins.

  Riding hard, Sands in tow, Teal reached the fringe of Big Sky at sunset. A few lights flickered from windows. He assumed that shortly the entire town would be lit and visible for a mile or more.

  Sands rode the last hundred feet or so at a slow pace with his eyes scanning the streets for any movement, man or creature.

  As he turned off the first side street and onto Main Street, it was obvious the entire town was hold up inside their buildings, or…

  Deserted.

  Teal spotted a few faint lights coming from the windows of the Hotel at the end of the first street. “Let’s check it out,” he said, softly and guided his horse toward the lights.

  Lane was seated in a chair in the hotel lobby, enjoying the coffee made by Mrs. McCain and smoking a cigarette. It was the first quiet moment he had in a week and he was going to savor it before telling the group what he read in the doctor’s journal.

  Red Foot chose that moment to burst into the lobby. “Rider’s coming?’ he announced.

  “How many?” Lane said.

  “Two.”

  “Scripture, you stay here and keep an eye out,” Lane said. “You men keep your rifles ready. Charlie, Poule, let’s greet our guests.”

  Lane, Red Foot and Poule stepped out of the hotel and stood with rifles at the ready on the wood plank sidewalk.

  In what little light there was, Lane could see two riders cautiously make their way down Maine Street.

  “That’s far enough!” Lane shouted when they were about twenty feet from the hotel.

  “Dave, its Teal and Sands!” Teal shouted and raced the horses to the hotel.

  “Jesus Christ, I just about gave up on you,” Lane said.

  Teal dismounted. “Max is in a bad way, Marshal,” Teal said.

  “Get him inside, then give me a report,” Lane said.

  “I smell coffee,” Teal said.

  “You do,” Lane said.

  “And he got bit at that cabin you say?” Lane said.

  “Day before yesterday,” Teal said. “Came down with a fever and then passed out cold on the way here. It was tough going, Dave. We’re lucky to be alive at all.”

  “He’s just like the Anderson boy,” Red Foot said.

  “Who?” Teal said.

  “Mr. Anderson, a local rancher,” Lane said. “His son was bit same as Max. They took him to a room and put him in bed. Maybe we should do the same for Max until we can sort things out.”

  Lane, Teal, Red Foot and Poule took coffee in the hotel dining room, leaving Scripture to watch the lobby.

  “How many and how far?” Lane said after Teal told them about the large group of ghouls he passed on the way into town.

  “A hundred, maybe twice that,” Teal said. “I didn’t stop to count.”

  “And they’re coming here?” Poule said. “You’re sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure,” Teal said. “I had my hands full with almost getting killed and Max sick and I didn’t stop to chat with them.”

  “I didn’t mean nothing,” Poule said. “I’m just a bit shook up is all.”

  “Hell, we’re all shook up right now,” Lane said. “But if that herd is headed this way we best get ready for them.”

  “Ready for them how?” Teal said.

  “I didn’t say anything before, but I read some of the doctor’s notes in his office,” Teal said.

  “What he say?” Poule said.

  Lane rolled a cigarette and smoked as he recanted what he read in the doctor’s journal. “Three weeks, a bit more now is the last entry,” he said. “About when Craig went missing, the Crow moved off their land and the Army deserted the outpost.”

  “What are we going to…?” Poule said just as church bells rang out.

  “Somebody’s in the church,” Lane said. “Grab your rifles and let’s check it out.”

  In a room on the second floor, Robert Anderson and Max Sands occupied the two beds. A third, smaller daybed was set up in the corner for Seth.

  Anderson, Joseph, Maura and Little Sky ran to the windows to look out when the church bells started to ring. They watched as Lane and the others rushed down the street toward the church.

  “It isn’t one of us,” Anderson said.

  When Lane and the others reached the steps of the church the bells suddenly stopped ringing.

  Lane and the others cocked the levers of their rifles and aimed them at the doors as they slowly opened.

  Light from inside the church flicked outside as a lone figure emerged from the darkness and stood on the top step.

  Dressed in the black clothes of a preacher, the disheveled figure looked at the rifles aimed directly at him.

  “Come inside. Quickly,” the preacher said. “We must pray.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Are you alone?” Lane said.

  “Is anyone bit?” the preacher said.

  Lane and the preacher were inside the church. It was large, ornate and a hundred or more candles glowed at the altar raining.

  “I asked you a question,” Lane said. “Are you alone?”

  “I am alone,” the preacher said. “At least in the house of God. There isn’t much time left. Let us pray.”

  “No time for praying Preacher?” Lane said. “There’s a mob of those ghouls headed this way and…”

  “Precisely why we must pray,” the preacher said. “Have you anyone bit?”

  “Two men and a boy.”

  “You must shoot them now and burn the remains as quickly as possible,” the preacher said. “I will help.”

  “Nobody is shooting anybody unless I get some damn good reasons and answers,” Lane said.

  “There isn’t time,” the preacher said. “Gather all your people inside the church before the mob arrives and we will talk then. Do it quickly. Please.”

  “Poule, Teal, get in here,” Lane said.

  The deputy’s entered the church.

  “Get everybody to the church,” Lane said.

  “Not the bitten!” the preacher cried. “Not the bitten!”

  “Why?” Lane said. “They’re sick men. One of them is an Army scout.”

  “They are not the people you knew anymore,” the preacher said. “Get the others and leave them. Hurry. Please!”

  “Do you have supplies, possibles?” Lane said.

  “Yes, plenty,” the preacher said. “I stock up whenever necessary.”

  Lane sighed and looked at his deputies. “Go get them. All of them. Leave Charlie as look out. Go.”

  “I’m not leaving my son,” Anderson said.

  “Those freaks will be here inside an hour,” Teal said. “I’ve seen what they do. You won’t stand a chance.”

  “Maybe he’s right, Pa,” Joseph said.

  “You go if you must,” Anderson said. “I’ll stay with Robert.”

  “Pa, please,” Joseph said.

  “I have a shotgun, rifle and pistol,” Anderson said. “I’ll be alright.”

  Teal turned to Maura and Little Sky. “Can the boy walk?”


  “I’ll wake him,” Maura said.

  “Where’s Anderson?” Lane said.

  “He wouldn’t leave his son,” Poule said.

  “Is this the boy who was bitten?” the preacher said.

  “He is my son,” Maura said.

  The preacher looked into Seth’s eyes and felt his forehead. “Not for much longer,” he said.

  “What are you saying?” Maura said.

  The preacher turned to Maura and they made eye contact. “I believe you know. Now quickly, close and lock the doors. We can watch from the balcony.”

  Lane and Red Foot closed the heavy oak doors and dropped the thick wood planks into place to secure the doors. For added measure there were two iron bars that fit into iron slots between the wood planks.

  “The balcony, quickly,” the preacher said.

  The second floor of the church was built for a large choir and organ. It had six windows with iron bars to allow light in and keep vandals out. From each window there was a clear view of the center of town, the streets and shops. Light shown from a window in the hotel.

  A large, flat surface wood stove had a crackling fire in it and a coffee pot resting on the surface.

  The preacher filled cups and passed them around.

  “They don’t react to smoke or even fire for that matter,” the preacher said

  “You sound like you have a lot of experience with these people,” Lane said.

  The preacher took a sip of coffee. “Most of them were townsfolk,” he said. “Friends and neighbors. They’re not people anymore, Marshal. Not once they’re bit.”

  The preacher looked out a window. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

  “Why do they come back?” Lane said.

  “I don’t know,” the preacher said. “I’ve watched them for weeks now and it could be some slight bit of memory drives them to return at night to a place of familiarity. Maybe they are searching for food, it’s anybody’s guess.”

  At the window, Red Foot said, “Marshal?”

  Lane and the others went to the windows.

  The faint outline of the mob of ghouls appeared on Main Street.