“My lord--”
“I'm no one’s lord, I'm but a man, A man who wishes to live a full life and be protected by his colony instead of threatened by it, as is Frankie., she wants you to come with us, she loves you.” Marx watched the robust man bury his face in his hands, his loyalties crushing him.
***
When they got back to Ryder they were silent. Their usual jovial banter that helped them brave the passing days had gone with the morning's sacrifices, Mrs. White and young Emery. Frankie was waiting for them in the conference room. She sat with Marx's mother Millie, her own sister Shannon, and her father who ran the only livestock farm in the colony, Axle's wife Lana was there and Stucky's brother, Butch. It was no longer small talk around the campfire or a loosely laid plan for someday in the future, now it was real. Marx thought.
“So, what of your talk with my Uncle?” He spoke to Frankie. Her expression was grave.
“I fear he plans to kill me.” Marx was truly shocked by this accusation.
“Never, he loves you like a daughter and he cherishes family above all else.”
“Cherish he may, but the love for a son trumps the daughter every time.”
“I'm afraid I don't take your meaning?” Marx asked confused.
“Prince Horris seeks her for his bride, dear son.” Millie's eyes melted with warmth as she stroked Frankie's back. Sanchez shook his head in protest.
“The Pope forbids it, as do I.” Frankie's eyes shone like glass as she spoke, but tears did not fall.
“The Pope wants Princess Danielle of the colony Pascale for him, and a finer woman he would be hard pressed to find. I take no quarrel with him on this issue.”
“Why then do you think he wishes you dead my friend?” Sanchez asked.
“Because Prince Horris is in love with me, and as long as I'm here, he won't be swayed from the idea of our union. The Pope said he would leave the front gate open for me, that there would be no guard and I am just to walk out, and that he would tell Horris I defected, then he can grieve and move on to Danielle.”
“He lies!” her father blurted, his pale, weathered face warming to rouge
“Aye,” Frankie hugged the old man. “He would see me killed so that there is never any fear of my return. As if I ever would.”
“Dear God, I'm so sorry Frankie.” Marx said. Frankie touched his hand.
“Nay. It is I who am sorry to you all, for if it weren't for this issue with me, we wouldn't be forced to use the back door.”
Shannon tilted her head to the side, “What is the back door?”
CHAPTER THREE: The Hardest Part
“Living is the only thing worse than dying. People are constantly speaking of what a gift this life is, but where is the gift in fearing every waking moment that you will be torn apart or lose the one you love. Where is the gift in waiting for betrayal from some manic fucking hillbilly who created a world where he can be the Pope who crowns his son King and made the whole world believe it so. Sometimes I think I would rather be a ghost. At least then the fear would be but a tragic memory, the worst has done its best and all you have to do is rest and roam about. No more dues to pay, no more people relying on you for survival, no more anything. Just freedom... sweet freedom.”
--Marx Ryder
***
Earlier, Marx had made sure Millie's suit was fully functioning before testing his own, Everyone in the colony had their emergency cooling suits in case of mass evacuation. No one ever thought the day would come when they may actually need to utilize them, but there they stood outside the walls of the catacombs dressed in their cooling suits, each with a small bag of necessities and in Marx a hope that this would soon be over. His mind's eye had seen them exit the tunnels before he'd even stepped foot inside. The air was a buzz with excitement, the plan was fairly simple, make it to the tarped military jeep near the center of the maze. It was what the Maintenance Crew used for the upkeep of the cryptic labyrinth, and all that resided within. Maintaining the Popes little traps and being sure it was cool enough to preserve his walking weapons.
Shannon cried, she could still feel her father's arms around her from their hug goodbye. The old farmer lacked the strength to fight the powers that be. “The people still need to eat.” he'd said before telling her Frankie and Axle to look out for one another.
Axle had disabled the cameras and Sanchez's clearance got them through a side entrance. This was it, point of no return. Marx thought as they walked through a gauntlet of awkwardly spaced corpses all standing in their place unmoving. Marx wondered if that was the most frightening thing about them, the unwavering stillness, before the attack. The distance between them and the jeep was expansive and for the first time, it actually began to occur to Marx that they may not make it out unscathed; they may not make it out at all. Call it bad luck or negative thought, but Sanchez bumped one of the bodies as if on que, ever so slightly he grazed its bony shoulder, but it was enough. The eyes opened and it began moving forward until it bumped into another and it too awakened. Before they knew it all the bodies were active, the group appeared to dance through them trying to avoid contact like moving land mines. It slowed them down an hour's time.
The suits were getting heavy and the group was weary. Marx had never been so afraid on a mission before, because he wasn't just looking out for his men, he was looking out for their families. Again that unshakable feeling gripped him; this day would not find them well in the end.
The stone walls were embedded with skulls of the enemies of Ryder and the ghosts who had rotted beyond their usefulness. There was one red colored bulb along the top of the morbid wall every half mile or so, the space between was black as pitch. Night vision was a necessity, though they sometimes would have opted to see nothing to escape the bleak view.
Lana reached for Axle's hand and gave it a firm squeeze motioning to her face with the other.
“MY SUIT! I CAN'T BREATHE!” Lana was in trouble, but the upside was, it was trouble they had a back- up plan for. Axle removed her helmet.
“Hang on to it babe, we will investigate the malfunction on the other side. Lana's got a hot suit everybody tighten up.” he called and they all formed a tight circle around her, insuring none of the ghosts could detect her within it. They moved as a unit, and as a unit they bumped and pushed through the corpses, they had to.
Marx saw Butch swiping the ghost with his blade needlessly. He was getting jumpy and that was understandable, but he was putting Lana at risk every time he lunged at one.
“Hey, Butch!” It would be all he got the chance to say, before one last careless swing sent his blade for-long into the rocky wall. The haphazardly stacked stones and skulls quaked and gave way faster than anyone could compute. One of the Popes skillfully crafted traps no doubt.
Marx was rendered motionless; he stared at the wreckage stunned. People were screaming and more than half of them were gone. The wandering ghosts were now reaching into the darkness to see what they could grab on to. They'd felt the vibration of the rock slide and were drawn to it. Surprisingly only a few were close enough to feel it. Marx, Sanchez and Frankie were able to dispatch them fairly quickly. Frankie turned to the newly formed wall between them.
“Shannon? Are you able to hear me?” Frankie asked and Shannon screamed across the airwaves in response.
“I'm stuck, I can't move Frankie!”
“Okay, you need to be calm now honey, I'm here with you, alright?” Frankie's movements were swift; she was examining the debris for any sign of the others. They could hear Shannon breathing deeply.
“Okay.” she sobbed softly.
“Good girl.” Frankie's voice was calm, but when she looked at Marx, he could see the sheer terror in her eyes.
“Can anyone else hear me?” She asked as Sanchez followed the fallen debris to the opposite wall of the tunnel. There was just barely a crack to the other side; he heard Axle and Butch answer back in his headset. “Loud and clear.” they called in unison.
“St
ucky is with us, but we haven't any visual on Shannon or anyone else.” Axle continued.
“She isn't with you?” Frankie sounded rattled.
“Well what else can you guys see? Anything?” Marx asked pulling Frankie over to the crevasse where Sanchez was standing hoping her head was small enough to have a peek inside. Frankie was trying to no avail; her helmet was far too bulky to allow it.
“We have an opening behind us; we may be able to get thr--” Axle began then gasped “Oh my dear God.”
“Whose legs are those?” Butch blurted out.
“What?” Sanchez and Frankie yelled.
“Legs?” Marx asked attempting to confirm what they heard.
“Aye,” Shannon chimed in. “Lana's pinned under the rocks, she is exposed but to the waste my lord. Millie tried to free her but could not.” Axle called to his wife with no reply.
“She cannot hear you without her helmet, Axle.” Shannon reminded him. “But fear not dear brother, she lives still.”
Marx knew that if they did not find a way to reach them soon, it wouldn't remain so. When he looked at his comrades he could see without a word that they were all of one mind. Make haste and get to the jeep without the others, it would be the quickest way to get to the other side of the rock slide. It was now a fact, they would not emerge from this hell unscathed, but now the question remained, what was to be the toll of the damages?
It took the three of them mere moments to slash their way to the jeep and claim the spare key from the wheel well, only giving merit to the idea that their families had truly been slowing them down the entire time. Now instead of breaking free from the gates at the tunnels exit, they would have to stage a rescue mission. The delay twisted Marx's tortured stomach even more.
“Millie is asking for my helmet, I think she would like very much to speak with you all, but I can't give it to her, I'll be seen by the ghost.”
“Aye, keep your helmet on, it's okay, will you tell us what she's saying?” Marx asked.
“No, don't leave me here like this, I cannot defend myself. Please.” Shannon's voice was quivering.
“Everybody stay cool, we're on our way to you as I speak.” Sanchez commanded.
They all knew Millie well, she was a defender of the weak and had always been, she would not leave Shannon's side unless she had no choice so Marx wasn't surprised to hear Shannon whispering
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” in the seconds that followed. He breathed a sigh of relief when they rounded the corner and saw the massive rock slide at the end of their path.
“She's moving her legs.” Axle said, they could hear the smile in his voice.
“That is a wonderful thing buddy; we have you in our sights.” Sanchez affirmed, but a growing sense of urgency in Marx made him squirm in his seat.
“Why is she moving like that? What's happening?” Axle became frantic and they could see the men spilling out of their niche as they approached. First Stucky, closely followed by Butch and Axle.
“Go! Go! Go!” Axle barked jumping aboard. Sanchez wasted no time at the wheel. Spinning around back the way they'd come and down yet another dark corridor.
“Shannon, what the fuck is happening over there!” Axle erupted, but with no response, only heavy panting could be heard. Marx could tell she was running.
“Can this thing go any faster? We must get to Lana!” Axle pressed, but the faces of Stucky and Butch told a story of hopelessness. Stucky dropped his head; he raised his face shield to wipe his eyes. The air was heavy with dread. Marx couldn't stop the tremors from overtaking his legs as his thoughts raced to his mother Millie, What of her?
The gravity of the situation crushing him. Lana was gone. This was now a fact, and Shannon was still running, he could hear her grunting as she stopped to fight ghosts.
Marx shut his eyes for a moment and said a silent prayer that Millie was with her fighting side by side, but when he opened them, he saw Shannon running to them alone, her face filled with terror. He searched the darkness behind her for a sign of his mother, he was nauseous, but like the Phoenix from the ashes, Millie appeared further behind slashing at the ghost with her sword.
“Mother run!” he called as Shannon reached for his outstretched arms. Stucky was chopping hands away from her when they pulled her aboard. Marx looked back to Millie noticing her gloves were missing which meant her suit had been compromised God only knows for how long. He could see the weight of the suit was slowing her down; the bite mesh was like chain metal armor. He watched her get bit three times as she struggled to the jeep. The very thing that was protecting her was threatening to kill her at the same time.
It was a split second decision. Marx jumped out of the jeep and ran to her. His arms felt like lead from fighting so he could only imagine how she felt, but she kept finding the strength to lift her sword and send another one of those dead bastards straight to hell. As he reached for her hand, her helmet was pulled off by a group of them grabbing at her. It mattered not; he had her by the hand and sliced them all with one fell swoop. Alas it wasn't enough. She was being pulled away from him her hand pried from his in an instant. Rotting hands were pulling at him from every direction, he could feel the pressure of their bites all over him but thanks to the bite mesh his skin was spared their wrath.
The screaming was almost more than he could bear, it was coming from every direction but the one that was closest was the one that captured him. Millie locked eyes with him one last time as they dug their teeth into her face pulling flesh and muscle from bone, eyes from sockets, and scalp from skull. It wasn't real, he'd gone numb from head to toe and had no clue if he was being devoured or not.
Marx had not seen the jeep back toward him, nor had he seen the pairs of arms ripping him from a sea of clawing hands and snapping jaws. The only thing he could see was his mother's face being torn from her body. He stared at his hands that had betrayed him. A scream so primal it frightened him, pierced the air and his eardrums, a scream that sounded like some wounded creature from a nightmare, yet the scream was his own.
Parts of his suit fell away from him in Frankie's arms.
“Shhh.” She rocked him. “Shhh, I've got you.”
They had been so close to salvation, so close to freedom. Marx relived the moment in his mind so many times his own face burned hot with guilt and pity. He wondered what that must have been like for her, and as he tortured himself he envied her in a way. At least now, for Millie, the hardest part was over. Now she was truly free, and that was a fact.
CHAPTER FOUR: A New Normal
“What is normal? The routine, the basic structure of daily life? The “go to” tape you access in your mind that tells you how to handle basic situations that arise, whatever they may be. Normal, quite a funny word really. What do you do when every piece of your daily routine has been replaced, every fiber of your very being and reason for existence, changed? What tape do you play for basic situations when nothing will ever be fucking basic again? Simply a question.”
--Marx Ryder
***
Marx opened his eyes to find himself alone in the back of the jeep. It was the noise of the birds that roused him, but it was the noise of another that jolted him to reality. He could hear raised voices and found himself annoyed that peace could not be kept even in the shadow of their darkest hours. He sheathed his weapon and exited the vehicle.
“What is the meaning of this madness!” Marx had no taste for foolishness this day and he meant to be done with it quickly.
It was clear that Frankie was hiding someone behind her. She was as frazzled as her long red ponytail, keeping distance between herself and the others. Even her very own sister was standing against her.
“He's been bit.” Butch quarreled. Marx recalled that it was his carelessness that had thrust them into this situation to begin with. Marx sucked his teeth in serious contemplation of murder, but a small head peeped out from behind Frankie, it was Emery. Marx looked on him as though he'd seen some specter, but h
e ran to the boy and threw his arms around him pulling him to his chest as his own mother had in the arena before her death.
“Emery, you yet live, how is this possible?” tears washed Marx's cheeks to the utter astonishment of the others, his actions had even given Frankie pause.
“You know this child?” she asked and he quickly nodded.
“Aye, He is my cousin, son of the Po-” Marx frowned at his own words. “My uncle fathered him.”
“I care not who fathered or did not father, he's bit and endangers us all!” Sanchez argued. The others seemed to stand behind him in solidarity.
'Says he who has lost nothing.” Marx growled. Sanchez stepped forward and Marx drew his steel.
“Stand down Sanchez.”
“And if I do not?”
“You will stand down or you will walk among the ghost this day.” The fury of hell danced in his eyes and Sanchez averted his gaze to the ground for a moment, but only for a moment.
“I trained you and fought beside you and backed you in this foolish quest, and you will now see me dead. Slay me in the street over one who stands no better than a ghost himself right now?” Stucky reached to hold Sanchez from his approach.
“N-na-nn-” Stucky's face contorted as he strained to force out his thought “Nnna, nnn”
“Oh for fuck sake man!” Sanchez snatched away from him and sat down in the driver's seat of the jeep.
“This child has survived what no man could. We were slaughtered in the catacombs within hours of entering, and he lives the expanse of twenty-four, he has earned our respect and will not be touched, am I clear?”
“Aye, my lord.” Butch bowed his head as did Stucky, Axle and Shannon followed suit, but as he looked on Sanchez the man spit between his teeth with utter disdain.
“Aye, Never more clear … My lord.” he did not cast his gaze on Marx, but instead set his sights safely on the surrounding wilderness.
All Things Zombie: Chronology of the Apocalypse Page 39