Wormwood Dawn (Episode VI)

by Crae, Edward

  “How’s that truck coming along?” Dan asked Eric.

  “Cliff’s got it running with the parts we took off the others,” Eric said. “It’s a Frankenstein in his words, but it works.”

  “Alright, then,” Dan said. “Let me check on Lena and Toby. Grab Max and meet me at the truck.”

  “I think I’ll wait,” Drew said. “He’s taking a shit at the moment.”

  Lena placed the last of the canned food on the makeshift shelf, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She had bolted some supports to the plank wall, and used scrap pieces of wood to fashion a three-shelf unit above the parts counter. The counter itself had been scooted over into the alcove that now served as the kitchen. There was room left for a small refrigerator, if they could find one. For now, it was nothing more than a pantry.

  “We’re running low,” Toby said, handing Lena a bag of dried egg noodles. “And where are we gonna get a stove?”

  “Well,” Lena said. “Maybe the guys can find a small propane stovetop. As for an oven, Travis can build one of those outside near the fire pit.”

  Toby smiled. Lena mussed up his hair with a wink. Though she appeared happy on the outside, her thoughts about Toby were dark and worrisome. He had killed a man a few days earlier, and she was concerned how it was affecting him. She didn’t know what would be worse; him not being affected at all, or him feeling traumatized by it.

  So far, from what she could tell, it didn’t seem real to him. Maybe he had played too many video games, or maybe he was just mature enough to know that he did the right thing in killing “the bad guy”. For the moment, she decided to let it go.

  Dan came in from the cold, rubbing his hands together in the slightly warmer interior. He had on his “run gear”; gray khakis, tall combat boots, and a black field jacket—probably stolen from one of the many mercs he had killed.

  She smiled as he patted Toby on the head.

  “How are things?” he asked.

  “Like I said before,” she replied. “We need more canned food. A propane range top would be helpful, if you could find one. Other than that, we’ll be alright. You might pick up some parts to install a sink or wash basin, maybe. Whatever you can find.”

  Dan nodded. “Alright. Drew and I are taking Max with us. He’s the only one who knows what we need for the solar array.”

  “Where are you going?” Toby asked.

  “Out in the country at first,” Dan said. “Then maybe to Nashville. It’s pretty close.”

  “There is a clinic there,” Lena said. “A few of them actually. If you can, get into one and grab medical supplies. I’m sure Max would know what Travis would need.”

  Dan nodded. “Anything else?”

  “Take care of Max,” Lena said, genuinely worried for the young man. “He’s not much of a fighter, but he’s a good guy, and we need him.”

  “I will,” Dan said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Hey Dan,” Toby said. “Can you find me a gun?”

  “A gun?” Dan repeated, looking up at Lena.

  She shrugged. Maybe he wasn’t as affected as she had thought. Perhaps finding him a smaller gun would be alright. He would need to learn to use one safely, after all. In these times, being unarmed and clueless was likely to get you killed. She couldn’t have that.

  “Whatever you can find for him, I suppose,” she said, finally.

  “Alright then,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He started to turn to leave. Lena stopped him with a hand to the shoulder.

  “Be careful,” she said. “All of you.”

  Dan half-smiled, averting his gaze as he left. She looked after him, truly concerned over his safety. He was a nice guy, she thought. A little on the nutty and unstable side, but good nonetheless. He was a strong person and a good role model for Toby. After all the piece of shit men she had dated throughout her life, none of them had even come close to being good enough for her son. Now, she was surrounded by a whole group of good men.

  Good men who would probably never give her a second look. Well, maybe Travis.

  She chuckled at the thought.

  Drew and Max were waiting in the truck when Dan arrived. Cliff was leaning into the passenger side window, presumably making some item requests. Dan clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Oh goody,” he said, turning the key. “I miss driving.”

  Max was in the back of the extended cab, looking stiff and horrified at the thought of going out. He sat with his MP5 across his lap, staring straight ahead with his eyes wide.

  “Don’t worry, Max,” Dan said. “You’ll be fine.”

  Max glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “I still maintain that I not needed on this little adventure.”

  Dan chuckled, looking over to Cliff. “Keep an eye out, buddy,” he said.

  “I will. If you do make it to that hardware store, Lena says they keep the ammo above the cash registers. Grab anything you can.”

  “Anything else?”

  “All the propane you can carry, I guess,” Cliff said. “And a few small camp heaters.”

  Dan nodded, looking at Drew. “We got a fucking shopping list going on.”

  “I want some gin,” Drew said with a grin.

  Cliff chuckled and backed away as Dan threw the truck in gear.

  “So Max here took out one of the baddies,” Drew said as they cruised down the country road. “Did I tell you that?”

  “Nope,” Dan said. He looked in the rear-view at Max, who was staring off into space. “How did it feel?”

  “I didn’t feel like anything,” Max said. “I just didn’t mean to kill him. I meant to disable him with a shot to the leg, but this MP5 was on full auto. The recoil was a lot more than what I had expected.”

  “So your shots pretty much walked up his body, then?” Dan asked, still smiling.

  “I suppose that would be an accurate description of what occurred.”

  Drew snickered and turned around in his seat. “It was still a good kill, man,” he assured Max. “Even if your eyes were closed.”

  Max gave him a neutral glance, as usual. “My eyes were not closed,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”

  Dan chuckled and reached into his jacket for a cigarette. After lighting it, he switched on the radio. He fumbled with the knob, looking at Drew every time it sounded like a signal was coming through. There was nothing to find, however, and he switched it off in frustration.

  Max cleared his throat and leaned up. “I imagine someone out there is broadcasting something,” he said. “The problem is that with the power out, any transmitter would have to be run off of solar or a generator. Neither one of those choices would offer much in the way of wattage. Their range would be limited.”

  “What about shortwave?” Dan asked.

  Max stuck out his lip and nodded crookedly. “I suppose there are still some hobbyists out there that have converted their interest to a somewhat more useful activity.”

  “You know,” Dan said. “You can just say yes or no.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Data,” Drew said in his best Patrick Stewart impression.

  Max sat back, grumbling. “I refuse to go through life using a laconic method of answering questions. Details are what make an argument worth listening to. You’ll either get my full two cents’ worth, or a blank stare.”

  “We get the stare either way,” Drew said, drawing a crooked smile and head shake from Max.

  Dan scanned the country road ahead. Though there were farms and farm houses around, most of them were burned to the ground. Only those that were set back into the woods were still standing, and those were likely still inhabited—maybe. However, none of them had any solar panels on the roof.

  “Is that a cow?” Max asked from the back.

  Sure enough, off in the distance, there was a single cow in a field. It stood still, grazing one spot, and seemed oblivious to the world around it. Strange, Dan thought.

&nb
sp; “I wonder if its owner is still alive,” Drew said. “Or if it just survived on its own.”

  “If it’s a milk cow,” Max said, “that’s not likely. It would have gotten an infection from the lack of milking. You have to milk them every day, I’ve heard.”

  Dan’s only thought was a nice big, juicy steak. He could even picture it searing over an open flame, it’s juices dripping off of it as the fat around the edges blackened and smoked with that sweet—

  “Watch out!” Drew shouted.

  A flash of white appeared in front of the truck, blurred and lightning quick. He stomped the brakes just as the pickup impacted it. They ground to a halt, all of them frozen with fear. Dan gripped the steering wheel tightly, waiting for whatever they had hit to stand up and attack. It didn’t.

  And that was frightening.

  “What was that?” Dan asked.

  Drew shook his head, still frozen.

  “Max,” Dan said. “Are you alright?”

  He looked in the rear-view mirror, seeing Max nod.

  Slowly, Dan opened the driver’s side door. Drew grabbed his arm.

  “Are you fucking nuts?” Drew asked.

  “I just wanna make sure it wasn’t a person or something.”

  “So what if it was?” Drew hissed. “They’re dead now. Nothing we can do.”

  Drew was right, but Dan still wanted to know. He pulled away and stepped out, carefully moving to the front of the pickup. He stopped, backing up enough to reach in and grab his M4A1, then continued on.

  There was a smudge of black and green fluid sprayed out in front of the pickup, some of it running down over the hood. Dan’s heart quickened, knowing that whatever he had hit was going to be something unpleasant.

  He was right.

  A ghoulish white and gangly creature lay sprawled out in front of the bumper, half under the truck itself. Though its face was smashed, Dan could see the size of its huge maw. It was lined with razor sharp teeth, and a long, sickly grayish-green tongue hung out of it. The creature’s body was tightly knotted and rigid, almost like the pale shell of some deep sea arthropod. The hands were clawed, with fingers at least eight inches long, and tipped with black barbs that looked like they could rip the entrails out of a T-Rex.

  “Holy fuck,” Dan whispered.

  “What is it?” Drew asked as he stepped out, staying by the door.

  “It’s one of those ghoulish things,” he said. “Like the one I shot with the crossbow in the pileup.”

  Drew went to the front of the truck, peering down at the splattered abomination. “Jesus,” he muttered. “I wonder what the hell those things are. Were they human?”

  Dan leaned in for a closer look, his skin crawling. The thing was definitely human shaped, but wasn’t a shuffler, shambler, or even one of the mutant hunters. He wasn’t really sure what it was.

  “Who knows?” Dan said.

  “Gentlemen,” Max said from out of the rear window. “I really think we should be continuing on. We’re losing daylight, and I have to piss. I’m sure as hell not doing it here.”

  Dan backed away to return to the driver’s seat. He fully expected the creature to leap up and attack, but its stillness remained. It was dead. Satisfied, he got in, slammed the door shut, and rolled over the thing with a stomp on the gas pedal.

  “So,” Drew said. “What the fuck now?”

  “I still have to urinate,” Max said from the back.

  Dan was at a loss. Though the creature was dead, and of no danger to anyone, there was still the question of what the hell it was. No one on the forums, even Jake, had mentioned anything resembling these creatures. For all he knew, it was some variation of the Robert creature. Maybe something not quite as bizarre or powerful, but similar nonetheless.

  “All of these new things,” Dan mumbled. “It’s just getting worse.”

  Drew sighed. “It’s never going to get better,” he said. “Not until all of these things are gone.”

  “What about the walking corpses?” Dan said. “There are probably billions of them, all standing up half rotted and stinking, looking for people to eat.”

  “They’re not corpses,” Max said from the back.

  “How do you know?” Dan asked, looking at him in the rear-view mirror.

  “They’re just diseased,” Max said. “They can’t be dead. Dead people stay dead. This isn’t Hollywood or TV, it’s reality. Maybe Travis can find out something. He is a doctor, after all.”

  “They looked pretty dead to me,” Drew said. “We saw a whole horde of them heading to the northeast.”

  “There has to be some other explanation,” Max maintained. “In any case, I still have to urinate.”

  “You can piss in Nashville,” Dan said. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. We’re not stopping out here.”

  Chapter Five

  “Hot tub suites,” Jake read the sign on his right. “Ooh, let’s get a room.”

  Toni chuckled. “I’m pretty sure there’s no room service anymore. I need my free continental breakfast or it ain’t happenin’.”

  “Still,” Jake said. “I’m hungry as shit and there might be food there.”

  “Alright,” Toni said. “But let’s check out that storage place down the street afterwards.”

  They approached the front entrance of the small hotel, both of them impressed with its quaint country styling. Up the hill a ways were several log cabin homes, decrepit and crumbling; some of them showing signs of having been set on fire. Evidently, even a tiny town like Nashville was subject to Gephardt’s antics.

  “Looks clear,” Jake said as he peered into the front door. “The lobby is a shit hole, but I don’t see any baddies.”

  Toni drew her revolvers anyway. She swiveled around him with her guns akimbo, looking a lot like a black Lara Croft. Granted, her clothing wasn’t form-fitting and impractical like Lara’s, but she still looked damn fucking sexy in it. Tactical gear was always sexy on a chick.

  “Open the door,” Toni said.

  Jake reached out and slowly pulled the glass door open. Toni stepped inside like a cop, pointing her guns left and right expertly, and then allowed Jake inside. The lobby was definitely a mess. As they crept through the garbage and broken furniture, the smell of rot became apparent. Toni glanced back at him with a hunted look. He grumbled.

  “Fucking corpses,” he said.

  They identified at least part of the smell when they reached the front desk. The clerk—presumably—was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall. There was a trail of blood leading up from her body. She was shot up against the wall and slid down as she died, leaving her corpse to rot in a sitting position.

  “I guess somebody wasn’t happy with their room,” Jake joked.

  Toni shook her head with a crooked grin. “I was thinking the same thing,” she said.

  Jake’s eyes caught a decorated white box that sat on the counter. His eyes lit up when he realized it was a box of Twinkies.

  “Ooh,” he said, grabbing the remaining two.

  Toni gave him a disgusted look. “Are you actually thinking of eating those?”

  “Hey,” he said, shouldering his shotgun and ripping one open. “My blood sugar is low. Besides, these things are immortal… so to speak.”

  “They’re full of preservatives.”

  “Good,” Jake joked. “I’m a big fan of self-preservation.”

  Toni rolled her eyes, stepping deeper into the shadowy lobby. Jake followed, stuffing the entire Twinkie in his mouth. It was delicious. He could feel the anxiety of low blood sugar melting away quickly. Now, the fear of the unknown was the only anxiety he felt. He was getting used to that.

  “The kitchen is probably through here,” Toni said, peering through the window of a swinging door.

  “They should have bottled water,” Jake said. “I’m pretty damn thirsty.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have stuffed that whole Twinkie in your face hole.”

  Jake grinned crookedly. “I
wasn’t sure where else to stuff it.”

  Toni pushed the door open gently, sticking her head inside and listening. She backed away, gave Jake a nod, then pushed through. The kitchen was dark, but there was the glow of dusk in the far corner, coming from a small window with frosted glass.

  “No peeksies for these cooks,” Jake said.

  There was a glass doored cooler in front of them filled with bottled drinks of all kinds. There was water, sodas, local beers, and even some opened bottles of white wine. Toni reached and grabbed a few bottles of water, pausing to check out the beers.

  “I’ve never even heard of half this shit,” she said. “But I wouldn’t mind having one.”

  “Go for it,” Jake said, cracking open his water and killing half of it. “Won’t bother me none.”

  She took a bottle with the label half torn off—or sweated off. She opened it and took a big guzzle, winking at Jake after she finished.

  “That’s good,” she said. “I should have bought this before the shit hit the fan.”

  A gurgling moan came from another corner. They turned, pointing their guns into the shadows. A rotted figure slowly stood on wobbling legs, turning its face toward them as it began walking their way.

  “I got it,” Toni said.

  She holstered her revolvers and pulled out her hunting knife, calmly approaching the thing as it bared its teeth and growled again. With one skilled thrust, she impaled it through the chin, and withdrew just as it collapsed to the floor.

  “Well,” Jake said. “That was easy.”

  “The dead ones are a lot easier, I’ve noticed. Just kill the brain. The other things are tougher. It takes a high-powered gun to bust through their skulls. Even then, sometimes they still keep coming.”

  “I just blow them up,” Jake said, remembering the nice grenade launcher he used to have. “Works.”

  “It’ll be dark by the time we get into Nashville,” Toni said. “Should we stop for the night, or keep going?”

  “I thought you said no room service, no deal.”

  “That I did,” Toni said. “Alright, we keep going.”