by McBain, Tim
Lorraine
The Compound
350 days after
They sat in the basement of the house on the hill, drinking Hawaiian Punch. It was a nice room, she thought, as basement living spaces went. It’d been finished with Berber carpet and leather furniture, cream and black respectively, and it stayed cooler than the rest of the house, something of value now that it was getting warmer out. This had become her office to a certain degree –– the place she took those she needed to persuade.
Today’s meeting was with an 8-year-old boy named Sam, an orphan one of the council members had brought into camp under darkness of night. He had dark hair with the faintest red tint, and freckles spotted his nose.
“People need to see the power of God,” Lorraine said. “Sometimes we have to fluff it up a little bit, just a little bit, but the ends always justify the means.”
The boy’s forehead scrunched up. He licked at the punch mustache on his top lip.
“So it’s fake?” he said.
“Not fake. Just the truth needs to be massaged sometimes. Look, this is all such a drain on Pastor Dalton. He doesn’t complain. It’s not in his nature, but all of this requires a level of concentration that knocks him on his a-”
She caught herself but just barely.
“Knocks him on his backside for days at a time. He doesn’t have the energy to perform a miracle every week, and we book so many shows that sometimes we need to help him conserve his energy is all. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“So you’ll help us? Help people see the power of God with their own two eyes?”
“Yeah.”
He took a big drink of punch, tilting his head back to get every last drop out of the plastic cup.
“That’s great,” she said. “I thank you, and the council thanks you.”
The council. This was Lorraine’s greatest creation. She’d handpicked a group – all college-educated, older women – to start helping with the decision-making and execution of these plans. Recruiting them was easy enough. She played up the exclusivity and appealed to their desire to be needed by the community. In her experience, these educated older women were the most loyal, reliable, and hard-working so long as they had some amount of say-so and a sense that the people they worked so hard for really needed them. She was happy to give them both.
The next show was ten days away, and they needed to top the wheelchair display. They brainstormed possibilities at the first council meeting, and casting was a major topic of discussion. The wheelchair gag worked so well in part because Alice was such a great performer on top of the fact that no one in camp knew her. They had no reason to believe she was in on it, and so they believed wholeheartedly. That belief, that awe, was palpable in the tent. The sense of wonder, of the miraculous, was infectious, spreading through all of the onlookers right away. It was that more than anything, she thought, that sparked this raging wildfire of word of mouth that led to people joining in droves.
This notion put the council in a tough spot. Fooling their own was half the battle, but it was a hell of a thing to pull off. Alice worked out just right, but they needed another outsider to make it work.
When Phyllis showed up with Sam, they knew what to do. With the boy being so young, they’d need to scale back the requirements of his role, of course. That wasn’t a bad thing, Lorraine thought. It made it easier to commit to a course of action.
“I don’t know if you were ever in a play at school, but this will be just like that. Just a few minutes, and it’ll all be over. But those few minutes will make a huge difference, make a lot of people really happy. We’ll start practicing that tomorrow, though. For now, can I get you some more punch?”
He nodded almost as fast as he thrust his empty cup at her.
Erin
Moundsville, West Virginia
266 days after
She was backed into a corner, and they were closing in on her. There were five of them, all shriveled and rotting and stinking of death. Marked with the black veins of the plague. They snarled and shuffled forward, their dessicated hands reaching out like claws. The one closest to her was missing an eye.
As she stared into the gaping black hole of the empty eye socket, it charged and latched onto her arm. She tried to shake herself free and woke to Izzy yanking at her sleeping bag.
“Erin!”
Her eyes snapped open. It was still early in the morning. The sun wasn’t visible yet, but there was a pinkish glow in the east.
“What is it?” Her voice was gravelly with sleep.
“Marcus and Rocky are gone!”
Erin sat up, her eyes taking in the empty space on the floor where his sleeping bag had been.
She crawled out of her makeshift bed and made her way to the ladder. Would he do that? Leave them when he was supposed to be keeping watch? But the zombies were gone. Had he led them away? Or had they gone away on their own? And then what? He just left?
It hit her then.
Fuck. He must have taken her seriously when she brought up their agreement. She hadn’t really meant it. She was just upset. Mad that he’d fucked up and lost the Beretta. Mad that he hadn’t listened when she told them to wait.
She looked at Izzy. She was going to be pissed.
Erin pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.
“He’s not gone. He went to… scout ahead.”
Lying again, just like when they’d left Marcus back at the house. This was bad. But she didn’t know what else to do.
“Why?”
Erin gave a little shake of her head.
“So what happened yesterday doesn’t happen again.”
“But when did he leave? Shouldn’t they be back by now?”
Fuck! This kid and her questions.
“No,” Erin said, swallowing, thinking. “If the way is clear, we’ll meet up ahead-”
“Where?”
Erin’s eyes landed on a metal road sign below. Good enough. She pointed at it.
“Grave Creek Mound State Park. And if he runs into trouble, he’ll come back. So the fact that he’s not back now is good.”
Christ, did that even make sense? She didn’t even know where it all came from, but Izzy nodded and seemed to accept it.
“We should get going then, right?” Izzy asked. “They’ll be waiting for us.”
“Right,” Erin said and crouched to roll up her sleeping bag.
Now she just had to figure out how and when she was going to explain what really happened to Izzy.
Erin made Izzy wait until she’d reached the bottom of the ladder and had a look around. The factory yard was empty, as was the stretch of road she could see. Whether Marcus had led them away or they’d left of their own undead volition, the zombies were gone.
She waved at Izzy, indicating that it was safe to climb down, but she continued scanning the area, looking for any sign of danger. When Izzy reached the ground, Erin led her along the side of the factory and down to the street.
“This place is crawling with zombies and God-knows-what-else. We need to be quiet and stick to the shadows. Stay close to me and don’t talk unless you absolutely need to.”
“Ninja Mode?”
“Ninja Mode.”
Izzy nodded, her mouth set in a very serious-looking frown. Erin would have laughed if she hadn’t been just as serious herself.
“Ready?”
Izzy started to open her mouth in reply but stopped herself and gave a thumbs up instead.
Silently, she mouthed, “Ninja Mode.”
Erin gave a final glance up and down the street, then took one step off the sidewalk. Almost instantly, there was a pull on her pack.
“Wait!” Izzy hissed.
“What?”
“You’re going the wrong way.”
“What are you talking about?”
Izzy pointed to the metal sign Erin had used as Marcus’ made-up destination before. Shit.
“The park is that way.”
“Right,” Erin said. “I guess I got turned around.”
They followed the signs south, past a lane of narrow, densely packed houses, crouching as they scurried across driveways and through overgrown lawns.
Once, they heard a dog barking in the distance, and they stopped. But everything fell quiet again, and they continued on their way.
Each sign for the park was another step closer to revealing Erin’s lie. What the hell was she going to do when they got there, and Marcus and Rocky were nowhere to be found? Tell Izzy they must have been eaten by zombies? Or tell her the truth? That she’d sent Marcus away, and now he was out there, alone.
They were downtown now, passing by the mom and pop businesses that had probably been in these buildings for hundreds of years, but were now empty and abandoned. Aunt Gussie’s Diner, Sew-It-Seams Quilting and Tailoring, Newmann’s Flowers, Two Bits Barber Shop. Erin ran a hand along the facade, feeling the roughness of the brick on her skin.
She was still working out a plan in her head when a large earthen dome came into view at the end of the block. It was sort of like a hill, but oddly regular, with a slightly flattened top. There were trees growing around it and on it and a path that wound to the top in a spiral.
“Whoa,” Izzy said, in a very un-ninja-like voice. “What is it?”
Erin pointed to another sign for the park.
“I suspect that would be the Grave Creek Mound.”
Izzy turned to her and grinned.
“Race you to the top!”
And then she took off.
“Wait!”
But she didn’t wait, and Erin had no choice but to pursue her. A fence surrounded the edge of the park nearest to them, but someone — or something — had trampled a section of the wrought iron, leaving a large gap. Izzy rushed through the breach, leaving Erin to follow.
“So much for Ninja Mode,” she muttered in between gasps.
They were lucky in that this part of town appeared just as abandoned as the rest. Strange that they’d seen a whole horde the day before and then nothing, she thought. It should have been a good thing, but Erin felt only foreboding. Or maybe just guilt over the whole Marcus thing.
Izzy beat her to the top, raising two celebratory fists in the air. The sloped path up to the pinnacle of the mound had barely winded the kid, but Erin was wheezing.
“I win!”
Erin was about to lace into her about taking off like that when the smile dropped from Izzy’s face.
“Where are they?”
“What?”
Izzy spun around in a circle, surveying the park.
“Marcus and Rocky. They should be here, shouldn’t they?”
Erin put her hands on her knees, still trying to catch her breath.
“Izzy, I need you to listen to me for a minute.”
She took three more breaths, counting with each exhale.
One.
Two.
Three.
She closed her eyes.
“They’re not coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Marcus left. He’s gone. It’s just us now.”
“Why?” Izzy’s face pulled into a scowl. “You sent him away, didn’t you?”
“No. Yes. It’s complicated!” Erin wiped a bead of sweat from her upper lip. This was not going well.
“They’re our friends. Why would you make them leave?”
Erin closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to the lids. For some reason, she thought this might offer some relief.
“The three of us almost ended up as zombie snacks yesterday. Because of him. I can’t be responsible for you and him.”
Izzy’s cheeks were flushed now, splotchy and red.
“You always act like I can’t take care of myself.” Her voice raised in pitch and volume. “Stop treating me like a baby!”
“Then stop acting like one,” Erin yelled back.
Izzy bared her teeth.
“I hate you.”
And then she spun around and ran down the other side of the mound.
“Izzy, stop!”
She disappeared over the edge, and Erin had no choice but to follow again. She’d barely caught her breath from the first race, and her chest ached from the exertion. Erin half-ran, half-fell down the steeply pitched side of the mound. By some miracle, she reached the bottom and managed to keep herself upright.
Izzy was already halfway across the grassy field at the base of the mound, headed for a parking lot. Beyond that lay a creepy looking castle-like building. Erin called out again.
“Izzy!”
It was no use. The kid was pissed off and hurt and running like a bat out of hell. And rightly so, she supposed. She had really fucked things up.
Erin lagged behind, not by choice. It occurred to her that they hadn’t even eaten anything for breakfast that morning.
There was a large fence around the creepy castle, and Izzy followed along it instead of trying to find a way through. Erin was glad. Especially after passing a sign that read “West Virginia State Penitentiary — Rumored to be one of the most haunted places in America…” She couldn’t read the rest without falling further behind, but she got the gist. If not for the fence, the kid might have run straight inside. And Erin would have followed her, ghosts or no ghosts. She shivered at the thought.
Izzy was starting to lose steam, and Erin gained on her a few paces. They’d wandered into a residential area with maple trees lining the street. Every few seconds, Izzy would turn back to see that Erin was still in her wake. Izzy wiped at her face, smudging her cheek with dirt and tears.
“Go away!”
“Izzy, just stop for a minute,” Erin rasped.
“You stop!”
Each time Izzy turned away, Erin used what little stamina she had left to gallop forward, closing the gap bit by bit.
Izzy caught her closing in.
“Leave me alone! I’m going to find Marcus and then you can be by yourself! And you’ll be happier because you won’t have to take care of me all the time!”
“That’s not what I meant! If you would-”
Her words were cut off by a scream. Her own scream.
The ground opened and swallowed her up. At least that’s what it felt like for that split second when her foot lifted, traveled forward a step, and then came down expecting to meet solid ground but finding empty air instead.
The hole was knee-deep, and when her foot hit the bottom, it hit hard. Her teeth slammed together, and she felt the jolt of impact from her ankle up through her knee and hip.
The fall threw her off-balance. She tipped to the side, catching herself with her hands.
“Erin!”
Izzy scrambled back to where Erin was sprawled on the ground, still trying to figure out what happened.
Erin brushed the leaves that had concealed the hole away and… fuck, she hoped she hadn’t broken her ankle. It didn’t hurt exactly. There was a strange feeling of pressure and some tingling in her leg. Surely if she’d broken something, she’d be in pain, right?
“Are you OK?”
“Yeah,” Erin said, not sure if she was lying or not. “I just tripped. There was a hole buried under all these leaves.”
She was being extra gentle, trying to extract her foot without moving it too much, but it seemed to be stuck. She wiped away more leaves, and that’s when she saw the tree root protruding from the side of her right calf.
“Shit.”
And then the pain hit. Hot burning pain. Every nerve in her leg from the knee down screamed. It was like the injury wasn’t real until her eyes could see it.
“What?” Izzy said, leaning closer. Erin pushed her away lightly.
“Don’t look. It’s fine. I just… I need a second.”
Izzy’s voice trembled when she spoke again.
“It’s bad isn’t it? You wouldn’t tell me not to look if it wasn’t really bad. I’m sorry, Erin! I didn’t mean all those t
hings I said.”
Erin shushed her. Even through the pain she felt oddly calm. Was she in shock? Or was the fact that Izzy was so upset keeping her cool?
She cleared more leaves away and that’s when she started to notice how strange the hole was. It was oddly symmetrical, with clean, straight edges. Like it had been dug intentionally. And around the edges, there were more broken tree roots. Except the ends of the roots didn’t look broken. They almost looked… sharpened.
Like stakes.
“Ffffffuck,” Erin said under her breath, head swiveling around now, realizing that this wasn’t a random hole she’d stepped in. It was a trap.
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing, it’s-”
And then she heard it. Whistling.
Someone was coming.
“Izzy, run.”
“Maybe it’s Marcus.”
“It’s not Marcus,” Erin whispered, certain of it somehow. “You have to run.”
“You’re coming with me!”
Izzy tugged at Erin’s arm.
“I can’t! I’m stuck.”
“I’ll help you,” Izzy said, clawing at the leaves and at Erin’s leg. She gasped a little when she saw the sharpened stick that seemed to disappear into the denim of Erin’s jeans. Erin saw her take a little breath, steeling herself. She grasped Erin’s leg and pulled, trying to free her from the stake. The pain was so intense, things went black for a moment. Her head swam, and she thought she might throw up. Erin shoved her hand in her mouth to stifle the groan of pain.
“Stop, Izzy! Just go.”
The momentary calm left Izzy, and she started to sob.
“I’m not leaving you!”
“You have to. Now!” Erin pulled her bag off her shoulders. Her hands were shaking. The heat in her leg had vanished. Now it felt cold and wet. “Take this and run. Don’t look back. Just run.”
Izzy gazed down at the bag. The whistling was getting closer.
“If you get caught here with me, we’re both dead. Do you understand?”
Izzy blinked and seemed to make a decision then. She squeezed Erin’s arm once before sprinting around the side of a house.