Chapter 31 – Marilyn
Marilyn grabbed the hunting rifle as she stepped out of the truck. She shined the flashlight around. She was surprised that there were no creepers after seeing the number that had descended into the valley. Maybe those creepers had sensed the activity in the compound, the living beings down there. Marilyn had no way of knowing. But she did have a feeling about the barn.
The barn was evil, or something in the barn was evil. She hoped Sonya wasn’t in there. Because Marilyn knew, not thought but knew there was something in the barn. Something so bad that Marilyn couldn’t keep the flashlight beam from trembling just a little bit as she tried to hold it steady. She had been afraid before, but never so afraid that she had actually shaken. She wondered if Chase felt it, too.
She looked at him. He was shining his flashlight back up the path toward the main driveway. Still no creepers. He caught her watching him. “Nothing now,” he said, “but I think that whatever they use to sense people will find us soon enough. We can’t forget to watch our backs.” He gestured toward the barn and she took the lead. He fell in behind her.
She directed the beam of her flashlight to the wall nearest them. This was an old barn. She guessed it had been built before the Chief had bought the land. There were windows on this side. The glass was broken out of most of the frames, though. Behind the wooden frames she could see that the windows had been boarded up, and not with old lumber. With new lumber. Her sense of unease, of wrongness, grew. She started around the barn. When she rounded the corner, the moonlight was so bright she turned off the flashlight. Below, the gunfire continued. Rapid shots. She couldn’t tell for sure, but she thought all three of the people they had left below were firing. She took a moment to study the scene in the valley.
In the bright light of the moon she could make out twenty or more creepers that had crossed the creek and were still standing. She couldn’t count the number lying on the ground. She could see more dark forms crossing the creek. The shadow of the trees prevented her from seeing further up the driveway.
She turned her attention back to the barn. There was a large door on this end, held in place with a crossbar made out of a two-by-twelve. This was also new. The crossbar rested in four braces, one on each side of the door and two in the middle of the doors. She tried to lift the crossbar. It was heavy, but it moved until she reached the top. Something was holding it down.
“Here,” Chase said. He was studying one of the central braces. Across the top of it a metal hasp was secured by a padlock. “Hmm,” Chase said. “Seems like a small lock for such a big door. If I had to guess, someone is trying to keep something in, not out.” He looked around on the ground until he located a brick. “Shine your flashlight on this,” he said, holding the lock. He set his flashlight down and picked up the brick. Two swings later and the padlock lay on the ground. He started to lift the crossbar, but Marilyn stopped him.
“Hold it,” she said. “We don’t know what’s in there. You have more rounds in your gun than I do. You stand back with your light and I’ll lift the crossbar. Be ready.” Chase nodded and stepped back, readied himself to fire.
Marilyn leaned into the door, put her ear to it. She thought she heard something in there. Some quiet movement, but she wasn’t sure. She slung her rifle over her back and put her flashlight in her pocket. She put both hands under the crossbar and pushed up in the middle, trying to balance it so it cleared all four brackets at once. When she felt it clear, she dropped it and stepped back, just missing her toes. She pulled her rifle around, but before she could get it ready, the doors started to open, pushed from the inside. She scrambled backward, still fumbling at her rifle.
From between the narrow gap in the doors, a form emerged. In the light the eyes and the black mouth stood out. Chase fired twice, and the creeper went down. Another emerged right behind the first, and Chase got that one, too. Marilyn finally had her rifle ready, but no more came out. Were they smart enough to know not to come out? Marilyn didn’t think so. She thought that two were all there were.
“Why would they have creepers locked in a barn?” Chase asked, his voice strained.
“I don’t know,” Marilyn answered. She studied the creepers on the ground. Both female. Both young. The smallest one had been a little girl, probably not much more than ten or eleven. The other looked like she might have been a couple of years older. They could have been sisters. They were black, but with light complexions. The littlest one’s hair was done in little braids all over. And they hadn’t been creepers long. If it wasn’t for the eyes and mouths, they might have still been the little girls they had been before they turned.
“Do we go in now? I don’t think Sonya is in there. If she is, she’s probably been turned.” Marilyn could see that Chase didn’t want to go in.
“I think we have to. To be sure.” Marilyn didn’t want to go in, either, but she stepped to the opening. She took out her flashlight and held it against the stock of the rifle with one hand, pointing it forward along the barrel. With the side of her foot, she pushed the door open, swinging it outward. The inside of the barn was big, dark and empty. There didn’t seem to be anything or anywhere to hide in the large space. Then Marilyn noticed a pile of old hay in one corner. On it rested a body. Please, God, she thought. She was afraid to go closer, afraid it would be Sonya. She froze. But Chase didn’t.
He cautiously approached the pile of hay. “It’s not her,” he said, well before he got too close. “Too big.” Marilyn felt relief wash through her. She joined Chase, both of their flashlights trained on the body. From a distance, she could see immediately it wasn’t Sonya. It was a black man, a big black man, partially covered with a blanket. His eyes were closed, and as she drew closer, she could see that he was sweating. He was alive. His eyes opened and he held up his hand to block the light.
Marilyn raced to his side and dropped to her knees, setting her rifle and flashlight down. “Are you okay?” she asked. He reached for her hand and she let him hold it. She could feel the fever in his grip.
He tried to speak, but only coughed weakly. He tried again. “No, I’m not okay. I’m never going to be okay again.”
Their eyes met. Under the sickness, she could see a sadness deeper than any she had ever seen in his eyes. “You’ve been bitten,” she said. Chase moved in behind her, still standing.
“Yeah. I don’t think I have too long now. I don’t care. My princesses are gone. Already turned. Did you put their bodies to rest?” His eyes pleaded with her. She looked away.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, his voice cracking. “They were dead some time ago. I just wanted them to be at rest. Thank you.” He coughed again, and his grip on her hand weakened. “That damn Chief. He took them, brought them back dying. I watched my girls die and there was nothing I could do.”
Marilyn didn’t know what to say. The light dimmed as Chase turned his flashlight back toward the door. He walked to the opening, leaving her alone with the dying man. She asked, “Was…was there anyone else? Another girl? Our friend was with us, but she’s gone now. We don’t know if she got away or if they took her somewhere.”
“There wasn’t anyone else here. Better pray she got away. If she’s where I went, where my girls went before he turned them, she’s in trouble.” He tried to sit up, but fell back again. “That sign. He uses it as a trap.” He stopped, his breathing labored.
“I know. They told us. He destroys creepers.”
He closed his eyes and she thought he was crying, but then she realized he was laughing. It wasn’t the kind of laugh she ever wanted to hear again. “Yes and no. He trapped us with it, too. You too, I bet. He doesn’t just use it for the dead ones. The sign said we were welcome. He brought us in, but we weren’t the right kind, turns out. We weren’t ‘keepers.’ He caught me off guard and grabbed us, brought us up here. Then he used us as bait.” A coughing fit stopped him. When he was done, he started again. “On the bottom
of the sign is a pipe, big enough for a person, one end blocked, the other with a grate over it. The end away from the road. He put me in it. The dead ones could tell I was in there. They bunched up under the sign until there was enough of them, then the charge went off, taking them out.
“He left me there until I was weak with hunger and thirst. Then he brought me back here, and I was too weak to stop him when he took Danisha.” He started crying. “He brought her back dying, and then he took Leandra. Danisha turned. I didn’t think she would. I thought we were immune. Their mama got it, but we didn’t and I thought we were immune. Turns out we could get it after all. She’d been bitten. Then he brought back Leandra the same way.
“After Danisha turned, I was too weak to fight her off. She bit me, and then I got it. Leandra’s body got up after that. Oh, God. My poor girls.” He began sobbing.
Marilyn felt sick. She wished they had never come in the barn. She couldn’t believe anyone was that twisted, to do what had been done to this man, his girls. He was dying in front of her after having been through the worst hell Marilyn could imagine. She couldn’t think of anything she could say. She squeezed his hand. Then he opened his eyes.
“Don’t let me walk,” he said. “I’m dying. I don’t want to be one of them. Don’t let me walk.”
Marilyn sat stunned. She could kill creepers. But this man was talking to her. This man was alive now. She knew what he was asking. She didn’t know if she could do it. Then, at the doorway, Chase started firing.
“We have to go, Marilyn. They’ve found us. The creepers are coming down the road.” She stood. She picked up her rifle.
“Please,” the man said. “In the name of God.”
Marilyn felt her fear and doubt leave her. She had to do this. She pointed the rifle at him. “What’s your name?” she asked.
He closed his eyes. “Devon. God bless you.”
“God bless you, Devon,” she said and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 32 – Sonya
Sonya expected the Chief or Sparky when she heard the gunshots and the sound of a vehicle coming up the drive. She feared that it was Sparky since he was coming under cover of darkness. She knew that whichever it was, there weren’t likely to be any positive changes in her situation.
She had no idea what time it was. The sun had gone down and the moon had come up, and even though the night wasn’t cold, lying in the metal pipe after baking in the heat all day had chilled her. Still, she had napped despite the shuffling and stench from the creepers who had gathered below her, the cold, the hunger, the thirst, and the fear.
Only two nights ago she had stayed awake on the couch until everyone in Main Quarters was sleeping and the boys on watch had time to settle down. She had known they wouldn’t be paying much attention to what was going on inside the compound. They were expecting a horde of creepers to come marching down the driveway. She just had to figure out a way to get out of Main Quarters, climb up on the storage building against the back fence, drop over the fence, and be gone into the night. She’d thought then she could spend the night in a tree or something, out of reach of creepers, and then head to the highway when day hit. If massive hordes of creepers were coming, she’d known she would be in trouble, but she had been willing to risk it. If only, she thought as she lay shivering in her pipe. If only she would have known. She’d have stayed on the couch. Lying on the couch, with everything still, escaping had seemed like a workable plan. How wrong she was.
She had hidden her bag with all her stuff she had brought into Main Quarters behind the couch. As quietly as possible, she had fished it out. She had studied the door, trying to figure out why the stupid tone sounded when anyone opened it. When she finally found some wires that went to a little box at the corner she couldn’t figure out which one did what, so she had pulled them all loose, one by one. Nothing had happened. She had opened the door, figuring if the tone sounded she could say she was just checking on the boys. No tone sounded. She stepped outside.
Honey had been waiting for her. The dog. She had wondered if she could get the dog up the ladder. If I drop her off the other side, she had wondered, will it hurt her? She had considered leaving Honey and then decided there was another option. She could cut the fence. She was going to the shop anyway to get some more of her stuff from the Suburban. Maybe she could find some bolt cutters. She would only cut at ground level, just enough for her and Honey to slide out. Then she could sort of fix it so that maybe the creepers wouldn’t find it.
She had looked to the gatehouse. No sign of Sparky or Chase. From her low angle, she hadn’t been able to see onto the roof. She had tried to stay to the shadows as much as possible as she crept to the shop. She cringed as she remembered her feeling of relief as she had opened the door and backed inside, watching for any sign of movement from Main Quarters or the gatehouse. She had been satisfied there was none, so when she closed the door and turned, she had screamed when she saw Sparky standing in front of her, pointing a pistol at her. Honey had growled at him, and he swung the barrel to the dog. Even in the dim light, Sonya had recognized the silencer on the pistol. She had seen enough movies to recognize that.
“Any problems from either of you, and I kill the dog first,” he had hissed. Sonya’s heart double skipped and she had resigned herself to the fact that things were not going to go as planned. She would have to wait for her moment, when and if she got the opportunity. She reached down to Honey’s collar to hold her back. When she looked up, Sparky had a walkie-talkie and was speaking into it, “She’s out here in the shop. What do you want me to do? Over.”
“Hold her there. I’ll be out in a bit.” The Chief. Sonya had wondered what was in store for her. She had thought then that there was a chance he could let her go. She had the feeling he didn’t want her around. She had believed he might even help her get away from the compound. He really only wanted Chase and Marilyn. But the look on Sparky’s had killed those hopes. He had told her to sit on a stack of tires with such an evil smirk on his face that she considered making a break for it, screaming, or doing something, but fear for Honey held her back.
When the Chief had arrived, he hadn’t even spoken. He had walked up to her, pulled a syringe from behind his back, and stuck it in her shoulder. Whatever it was hit her fast. She didn’t go out all at once. She had started to stand up, and Honey had lunged toward the Chief with a low growl. She had bent to pull the dog back, afraid Sparky might shoot the dog, but she lost her balance and fell face down on the floor. She had been able to roll over in time to see the Chief pull his pistol from the holster, but instead of firing, he reversed the heavy revolver and brought it down on Honey’s head. As Sonya had struggled to stay awake, she had seen Honey collapse and lie on the floor, her legs jerking with spasms. Sonya had tried to call out to the dog, but the best she could do was a wordless moan.
She had never really gone completely out. She didn’t have control of her muscles, and she couldn’t make a sound above a low moan, but she stayed somewhat conscious of her surroundings. At the Chief’s orders, Sparky had grabbed a tarp (it stank of creeper) and wrapped her in it. She had only a small hole through which to breathe, and could see almost nothing. She had been lifted and tossed carelessly into the back of the Chief’s Hummer. A heavy, soft object was thrown in with her, partially on top of her. By the smell, the feel, the warmth, Sonya had known it was Honey. She had moaned again, and Sparky had laughed, then pulled and tugged at the tarp covering her for a bit, loosening and opening up the hole so she could better see. He hadn’t done that on purpose; he had been trying to cover Honey’s body.
After what had seemed a long time but probably wasn’t, the motor had started, and she heard the shop door open. The vehicle started moving. At the gate, she had half-heard a conversation with Chase. She tried to scream, tried her hardest to yell, but the moans she produced couldn’t have been audible over the sound of the motor. When they had begun rolling, she was sure she would never see Chase and Marilyn again. Later she reflec
ted and was surprised she had thought of them before her father.
Climbing the driveway had pushed her to the back of the cargo compartment, and the bumps had shifted her around, causing her to come partly unwrapped from the tarp. She could feel Honey’s fur against her bare arm. The dog was still warm. Sonya had concentrated, and decided Honey was still breathing. She couldn’t be sure how badly the golden retriever was hurt, but the fact that the dog was still alive gave her a brief glimmer of hope. For the dog. Not for herself.
When they had stopped, she had thought they were at the top of the drive. She had heard Sparky curse, and the Chief tell him to hurry up. There had been shots fired and they had rolled forward again, but only for a very short time. The Hummer stopped again, and then the cargo compartment was opened. Honey was lifted out first, and Sonya had heard a thud as the dog was thrown on the ground. She had been facing the front of the vehicle, so she couldn’t see who was lifting the dog, but she had been able to tell by the smell that it was Sparky. He didn’t seem to feel the need to bathe regularly. He had returned for her, and she had expected to be thrown to the ground as well, but Sparky had put her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She had seen almost nothing from this vantage point except Sparky’s rear and the ground. Two pistol shots had sounded, startling her, but her body didn’t jump. She had felt slightly disconnected from it. The Chief had told Sparky to hurry, more were coming. She had guessed more creepers.
After Everything Else (Book 1): Creeper Rise Page 18