“Yes,” said Wyatt.
Richmond took a deep breath and sighed. “Wyatt. You know what you are going to have to do. Don’t you?”
“Tie you up? Like, Caleb?”
“No. Caleb is gone. He’s one of them. And I will be too unless you kill me,” Richmond said.
“But I can’t kill you. I can’t.”
“I know. I know, but if you don’t then I am going to kill you and Blakey.” Richmond paused, “Bring me the gun.”
“No.”
Richmond’s face contorted in pain as he slowly maneuvered his body closer to the shotgun. He picked it up and laid it in his lap. “Come on, Wyatt. You gotta do it.”
“No. I can’t.”
Richmond took another deep breath and positioned the barrel under his chin. He stretched he reached for the trigger. He closed his eyes and hesitated. Then, dropped the barrel down by his side. “I can’t reach the trigger.”
There was silence.
“I can’t do this alone, Wyatt. You’ve got to help me.”
“How do you want me to help you?” Wyatt asked.
“I can’t pull the trigger. I need you to pull the trigger for me.”
“But that would be like me killing you. I can’t do that,” Wyatt said with a whimper.
Richmond thought and lie back on his side. He moved the barrel a few inches from his head and held it tightly. “What I want you to do is to put your finger on the trigger and hold it still. I’m going to pull the barrel closer to my head. You keep your finger steady. When I pull hard enough the gun will fire.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Wyatt said.
“You can. You will. You must. I’m going to turn soon and you may not be able to kill me then. We need to do it now. I need you to do this with me.”
Deep inside Wyatt had known it would come to this, and he knew Richmond was right. He sniffed back more tears. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Tell my dad that I chose to do this because I knew if he were in this situation, this is how he would do it too. Now, put your finger on the trigger.”
Wyatt knelt on the floor and placed his finger on the trigger. Blakey shivered in the back, crying uncontrollably. Richmond slowly pulled the barrel closer to his head. Wyatt felt the trigger tighten under his finger, until it fired.
Richmond was gone.
Wyatt gave a brief glance at his faceless cousin, and went by Blakey’s side and hugged him. Both of them cried in a brotherly embrace.
“We can’t stay down here. Let’s go back upstairs,” Wyatt said. Blakey nodded and picked up the ammo bag, while Wyatt retrieved the shotgun and led the way back upstairs.
Wyatt didn’t want to go in the sanctuary where Caleb was. So, the two went back into the Pastor’s office. Wyatt wanted a door between him and the rest of the church.
Once inside, Wyatt noticed one of the bookcases had a door partly open. Something looked unusual about it. Wyatt pulled the door open all the way. The bi-fold door led to a small bathroom, just large enough for a sink and a toilet. The two went in and turned the water on in the sink. Each took a long drink. There was some hand soap in a dish next to the sink and the wall. It was the first time the two washed their face and hands without being told. The cabinet underneath contained several hand towels. They used one to dry off and took the others to use as pillows.
While looking for more items to use for their make shift beds, Blakey found a half-eaten box of Oreos in the Pastor’s desk. The two gobbled them down and went back for more water, and a bathroom break.
They were so very tired, and no sounds came from the outside to scare them. A thick rug in front of a bookcase served as a mattress. The two lay next to each other and adjusted the towels to support their heads. Wyatt reached for Blakey’s hand to comfort him, and both fell fast asleep.
* * *
The church bells rang as they do on every Sunday morning at 10 AM. Wyatt sprung in a sitting position with his heart racing. Blakey rolled over, trying to get more comfortable. Wyatt stood and listened by the door, but could hear nothing unusual. There were no windows to look out of, but he could see daylight coming in from the cracks in the door. He was lonely and wanted to leave. He wanted to find his mom and hug her and never let her go. Dad was gone, and he didn’t know how his family was going to make it without him.
Wyatt heard a distant noise, a banging sound. He went to the door leading to the hall and was able to hear it more clearly. He grabbed the shotgun, opened the door, and stuck his head out. The banging came from the front doors of the church.
“Blakey. Get up. Blakey,” Wyatt said.
“What?”
“Get up. Someone’s knocking on the front doors.”
“Who is it? Is someone here to save us?” Blakey wiped the sleep from his eyes.
“I don’t know. It might be. Or it may be the dead people. I don’t know. I hope dead people don’t come out in the day time,” Wyatt said, now standing in the hall, eager and scared at the same time. “Let’s go listen by the door.”
Blakey followed closely behind. When they passed the altar, Caleb struggled to free himself from his bonds. The two made their way silently to the door, listening for sounds beyond the banging, but heard nothing.
There was a stained glass window that faced the side of the outside door entrance. Wyatt went to it and tried to see who was at the door. The different color glass distorted the images outside. But Wyatt could see it was a large group of people waiting to get in.
Someone banged on the door again. Wyatt was able to make out through the distortion who it was. It looked like the Pastor! He had the same short build, and he wore a hat just like the Pastor. The woman next to him was Mrs. Jane, his wife. Behind her, he could make out Deacon John, and his wife and two kids. Of course! The church bells! It was time for church and everyone was trying to get in.
“Blakey! We’re saved! The Pastor and everyone else are out there. Untie the rope and let them in!” Wyatt let the shotgun drop to the floor. He and Blakey hurriedly untied the knot and pulled the rope away from the door handles. The two doors opened and the bright light of the day shown upon the faces of the boys. Their smiles faded. They walked backward as the congregation approached.
It was the Pastor and his wife. It was Deacon John and his family. The Lemoines, and the Smiths, and his best friend Harry. Every regular member of the church was there, all dressed in their Sunday best.
But each and every one of them was dead. Dead and walking. Each scarred in their own way from the attack of the living dead that turned them. The congregation surrounded the two boys, who were too scared to even utter a cry.
Erik too was in the crowd. He had taken Brennan’s Eagle Scout pin and stuck it in his dead flesh on the left side of his chest.
The crowd tightened the circle around the brothers.
Once a month the members of Grace Baptist Church came together and shared the Lord’s Supper. But never had the ‘bread’ been more soft and delicious, nor the ‘wine’ more red and satisfying.
The End
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