by J. Thorn
“I can’t.” Del shrugged. “But the Rapture is supposed to take all the good, Godly, virgins … and what?”
Mack answered, “Children.”
He produced a smug grin. “Exactly.” Del nodded. “Sparing the children from witnessing the horrible end. Right. Well, if God is so almighty, all knowing, and real? Then He screwed up.”
Raphael blinked. A calm blink. Del thought he saw a hint of offense. He wasn’t sure.
“Why do you say that?” Raphael questioned, after his brief pause.
“Why?” Del gave an upward motion of his head, an indicator, and Raphael turned around. Unexpectedly, and slipping between the bodies of Alex and Nicole, stepped a small child. A boy, tiny, about seven, fair skinned with brown hair. Del smiled arrogantly as the boy peered up. “Because He forgot one.”
++++
Alex recalled the day she and Mack happened upon Billy. It wasn’t long after the Rising, not long after she and Mack witnessed not only an attack on their camp, but the reanimation of many that were killed.
Mack had this thing about being outdoors, he felt safe and secure—Alex, on the other hand, felt open and vulnerable even though Mack set up traps.
She just wanted to get inside, safe and protected from the elements and the … dead.
Alex swore that she had just looked over to the jeep a few seconds earlier and hadn’t seen Billy. Mack assured her that Billy probably was asleep. How he got there they didn’t know. Billy had no recollection of anything that happened before that day.
Gear packed, they literally froze when they saw him.
A child.
A child hadn’t been seen since they all disappeared from the Earth.
Yet there he was, staring up at them. Sitting on the front seat, looking as if waiting.
He wasn’t dirty, nor did he express hunger. Strangely, he had an adult sound to his deliverance of speech which went unnoticed at first because Billy barely spoke.
Both Mack and Alex attributed that to the trauma Billy had witnessed.
After Mack delivered a huge embrace to the child, they took him with them.
The three of them were alone until they came across Del and Father Owens.
“It threw me,” Mack said. “I mean, it was the first child we had seen in weeks. I never thought I’d see a child again.”
Raphael stared at the boy who just looked at him.
Del said, “When Mack and Alex arrived at the church with him. I didn’t know what to make of it.”
“Does he speak much?” Raphael asked.
Alex shook her head. “Not much at all. We’re trying. He really is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.”
Del leaned toward Raphael and whispered, “It’s kind of creepy you know. Him being the only kid. But, we got used to it and protect him at all costs. He is the future.”
Raphael turned to Nicole. “What of you? You haven’t said.”
She shrugged. “Freaked me out too, when we saw him. When Mack and Alex arrived, they had this kid. I had resolved myself to the fact that the Plague took all the kids.”
Rick interjected, “He was Forgotten.”
“Which,” Del added, “is why, Mack, Nicole, and I don’t buy into God’s End thing. If God was so almighty, so all that. Would he have forgotten one innocent?”
With a huffing exhale, Fr. Owens stood. He groaned some as he did, inching his way to the group. “You have been saying that for a while, my cynical friend. Did it ever occur to you that God didn’t forget him?”
Del chuckled. “Then what else could it be?”
“You think …” Fr. Owens said. “Maybe God left him behind for us to find on purpose.”
++++
The moonlight through the window caught his eyes as he lay in the bed, and they sparkled. Innocently, Billy peered to Alex, then smiled with whispering words, “Everything will be different from here on in,” he said. “You’ll see.”
Then he closed his eyes, snuggled his pillow, and appeared to be sleeping.
Alex pulled the covers up some, then ran her hand over his cheek. She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder.
“Sorry,” Mack said.
Alex heaved out a breath, turned, and smiled. “No, it’s OK. My worst habit. I scare easily.”
“You don’t scare easily, you jump easily.” Mack winked. “Big difference.”
Alex nodded.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. He … Billy spoke. “He said a sentence, randomly.”
“What did he say?”
“That things will be different.”
“Maybe he’s just referencing the new guy. Maybe he doesn’t trust him.”
“Do you?”
Mack shrugged. “He just got here, Alex, hard to say. Del told me something.”
“What’s that?”
“He said you looked very strange when you shook his hand today. Like you felt something.”
Alex batted her eyes. “You gonna make fun of my psychic feelings.”
“So you had one.”
“You never believed me before.”
“I never believed in the walking dead either. What did you feel?”
Alex sighed out. “Like electricity.”
“You mean like a shock. Like when someone runs their feet on the carpet and it—”
“No. Warm. Electric, just odd. Do you think I’m nuts?”
“Yes.”
Alex grunted.
Mack laughed. “But that’s not to say you didn’t feel it.” He paused. “I’m gonna do roof watch. Wanna join me?”
“You know what? Yes. The temp dropped, should be fun.”
“Good.” Mack kissed her. “Go change, I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Alex returned a smile, acknowledging him, and after Mack left, she took a moment to stare down at a sleeping Billy and wonder, once again, why he said what he had said. Not that it was a huge statement, but to come from the mouth of a child that rarely spoke, it was a big occurrence.
+++++
He asked.
Rick answered.
Raphael asked, “Can you tell me about the day on Price Street. I’d like to hear your rendition.”
Rick was excited to tell the story, especially to a newcomer. He must have hinted on the name of the street somewhere in the conversation, or how else would Raphael know it.
With enthusiasm, Rick told the story.
Mobs.
Mobs of Dokes were in pursuit of him and Nicole. He had found a pretty cool hideout and so had she, and Rick was taking the last body out of the building.
He knew he couldn’t stay there long; after all, the bodies were lined up on the street.
Just as he laid Mrs. Winter’s body on top of Mr. Boyle—they rose. Rick stepped back.
All the bodies started to rise. His cool hideout entranceway was blocked and he could only run forward. He halted long enough to pick up a baseball bat that lay on the street.
“Go. Go. Go!” Rick urged Nicole in their run from the horde of Dokes.
Nicole was fast; she made it to the end of the block and skidded to a dead stop. As if an invisible wall blocked her, her arms flailed out and waved to keep her balance. No sooner did she spin back around, Rick saw more Dokes.
Trapped.
In the middle of that section of street, Nicole switched directions. Rick could see what she was doing.
An apartment building with fire escape.
“Yes,” he heaved out, and ran to her—leaping for it, pulling it down. They both climbed to the first landing and lifted the ladder. Dokes encircled, reaching, jumping, but unable to get them.
Rick caught his breath. “Good thinking.”
“Yeah,” Nicole said. Just then, the window behind her crashed. She screamed when two arms reached out, grabbing her.
Using the bat, Rick hit the arms until she was freed, and they continued on their climb. They made it all the way to the roof and retracted the ladder, blocking any Do
kes that could be smart enough to try.
Rick felt safe, they both did. Then the roof hatch opened.
He heard the groaning and knew it wasn’t a survivor. Raging toward the Doke, Rick didn’t pause as he swung the baseball bat in his run—smashing the Doke in the head. It dropped and Rick closed the roof hatch.
“We’re gonna have to find a way to secure this,” Rick said, standing on the hatch, “as much as this is probably a really good pose for me, I can’t stay like this. Eventually I’ll have to pee.”
With a shake of her head, Nicole laughed. “So you think we’ll be safe up here?”
“For the time being.”
She breathed out and extended her hand. “Glad I ran into you. My name’s Nicole.”
From Rick’s story to Nicole’s mouth, she proclaimed, “That’s how we met. Little did we know we were only a block apart until we both started being chased at the same time. There we were, both running for our lives and we meet up.”
“We were safe there,” Rick added. “The Dokes started slowing down during the day and we were able to get food. Or take turns.”
Nicole continued, “It was when I was out that I heard Mack’s laughter. Laughter.” She said, “God, how long had it been since we heard people laugh? Dokes didn’t laugh. I knew it was safe and called out. Sure enough, the two laughs were him and Alex. It was weird.”
Raphael asked, “What were you laughing about?”
At that moment, Nicole turned to see Mack standing in the room.
Mack waved out his hand. “Goofy Del. We had just met him a week before and he was using old Zombie movies as training films. Reference material. Alex and I were laughing at his enthusiasm.”
Del’s “Uh!” grabbed the attention of the room. “Dude, that was rude, you never told me you made fun of me. Besides, the battery operated DVD player was Fr. Owens’ idea. When he found out I loved Zombie movies, he suggested there was stuff we could learn.”
“Were you and Alex searching for the survivors?” Raphael asked. “Or did you happen across them?”
Mack shrugged. “We were surviving. Alex said she sensed people and we went there. Speaking of Alex.” He aimed his voice out of the room, “Al!”
“God!” Alex entered. “Yell, why don’t you. I’m ready.”
Mack looked at Nicole. “We’re hitting roof watch. Keep an ear out for Billy and the padre.”
“Absolutely.”
When they turned, Raphael stepped forward. “I was hoping that tonight you would give me the honor of taking the roof watch. After all, that’s why I am here.”
Alex asked, “You mean, that’s what you’re good at?”
“Yes.”
With an iffy sound, Mack tilted his head. “It’s kind of our thing. You know.”
“I understand. But please, allow me to take the watch. Enjoy your evening.”
After producing a look of debate and an exhale, Mack turned to Alex, who shrugged. “OK,” Mack said. “Sure thanks.” He took a few steps. “Let me get you a rifle.”
“Oh, no, I have my own weapons.” Raphael smiled.
“OK.” Another nod from Mack.
“Thank you. I promise you’ll be well protected.” Raphael—under everyone’s watchful eye—moved across the room and to his black bag. He opened it and pulled out a sword, a bow, and small pack of arrows. Strapping them on his person, he nodded to each of them. “Have a good night.”
Heel-to-toe. Heel-to-toe. Mack bounced, shifted his eyes to Alex and to the now-empty black bag. His mouth puckered as he pursed his lips.
“Thinking what I’m thinking?” Alex asked.
Mack turned clockwise. “Did he … did he pull a sword from that bag?”
“And arrows.”
Mack bit his lip and twitched his head.
“I can understand the arrows. He had a cool gold crossbow,” Alex explained. “He can shoot distance with those.”
“He had four.” Mack held up his fingers. “Four.”
“Yes.”
“That’s four Dokes.”
“He said he was good.”
“And we’d be well protected,” Mack grumbled.
“That’s what he says.”
After a beat, Mack nodded and looked at Alex. “I say we take the other roof tonight.”
“I agree.”
Without hesitation, both sought out their weapons and left.
++++
What vision is stranger? Alex wondered. Gangster Doke, with saggy pants, sauntering along with a radio, head bobbing to silence. Or Raphael on the other roof? He perched like a crow on the edge of the roof. Arrow across his back, eyes forward, long black coat flapping in the wind.
“Oh he’s weird.” Mack sat down on the roof, back against the edge.
“I’m glad we came up here.”
“Me too.”
“Mack, I don’t know. There’s something just odd about him. And I am not just meaning the arrows. Something about him.”
“I agree. And until we know, I just keep asking myself …” inching up, Mack peered over the roof, “who is this guy?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
For some strange reason, Fr. Owens hadn’t had any episodes. No senility-slips at all. And while Del was getting dressed he had to wonder, and worry, if Raphael was testing the aged priest’s mental limits.
It pissed him off and he debated on whether to punch this Raphael guy or talk to Mack and Alex.
He opted for the latter, on the chance that Raphael was a whacked as Fr. Owens.
They were in the kitchen area when Del found them, doing the Ozzie-and-Harriet thing of working perfectly together like the happy couple making a morning meal.
He whistled, waved his hand, and indicated for them both to follow.
He didn’t want anyone else to hear.
He waited in the hall. Nothing. So, Del went back in, or rather only stuck his head in the door. “You guys coming out here or what?”
Mack set down the pan. “I didn’t know you wanted us.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s why I whistled.”
Alex shrugged. “I thought it was to say goodbye.”
“Where would I go? Come out here, please.” Del retreated into the hall and waited. Alex and Mack came out, and Del pulled the loft door closed.
“What’s up?” Mack asked.
Del’s hand ran over his hair in frustration. “You aren’t gonna believe this. We got a live one here.”
Alex asked, “Is Fr. Owens having another episode?”
“Put it this way,” Del replied, “if he wasn’t. He is now.”
Folding her arms, Alex tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Del shifted his eyes from her to Mack. “I went back into the bedroom to get a shirt. Change my clothes. Raphael was talking to Fr. Owens. Fr. Owens asked if I minded, Raphael had something important and secretive to tell him.”
Mack smiled. “So you did what any good person would do.”
“Exactly,” Del said. “I walked out and eavesdropped.”
“And?” Alex asked.
“And he tells the padre, when the time is right, he’ll tell us. But he’s telling the padre because, well, he was a man of God, still is.”
Was Mack being impatient? Del watched him wave his hand in a hurry up fashion. “Fine,” Del huffed out. “I’ll get to the point. Gees. He thinks … Raphael is claiming he was sent by God to help us. And that he is Raphael the Archangel. Dudes, I never even heard of Raphael the Archangel. Is there one?”
Alex closed her mouth tight and nodded once. “Yes.”
“Then?” Del asked.
After a pause and complete silence, Mack and Alex looked at each other seriously, then burst into laughter.
“Guys, I’m not lying.”
Ignoring him, Alex said, “This is so great.”
Mack nodded. “And it explains his bow and arrow thing.”
“And the sword.”
Mack added sarcastically, “No wonder we were protect
ed.”
“Of course. No wonder.”
Del waited. Sort of semipatiently, his head went back and forth as if he were watching a ping-pong match. When they finished and done joking, he took it as his cue to chime in. “Guys, come on. This is serious. What are we gonna do?”
Mack reached out and laid a hand on Del’s shoulder. “Del, what do we do when Fr. Owens thinks he is Captain Kirk?”
“We play along. But—”
“And when he’s the guy from Moby Dick?”
“Congratulate him on his catch. But—”
Alex snapped her fingers. “Oh! How about when he’s the pope giving a Vatican Mass.”
Mack fluttered his lips. “I genuflect.”
After a growl, Del held out his hand. “Guys!”
“What?” Mack asked.
“Are we just gonna say nothing?”
“Del,” Mack said. “It’d be pretty boring if all we had to do was kill Dokes and look for survivors.”
“Uh, no, Mack, it wouldn’t be, they keep us busy.”
Mack waved out his hand. “I’m hungry. I’m gonna finish making breakfast.” He opened the door.
Alex followed, pausing before entering the loft. “Del, let it go. Who’s he hurting?”
“So we just nod?” Del asked.
“Or bow,” Mack said.
Del groaned at Mack’s apparent amusement, and didn’t think it funny at all when Mack reached out with a good-gesture swat to his back. “That hurt.”
“Right.” Mack shook his head. “Look. We’ll watch him. Keep an eye out. But if the guy thinks he’s Raphael the Archangel then we let him believe that.”
“So, play along?”
“Play along. No big deal.”
“Fine. I’ll play along.”
“Good. Come eat.”
Shaking his head, Del sulked. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Too bad,” Alex said with a shrug. “We’re making Spam.”
She had disappeared with Mack into the loft, and it really didn’t take long for Del to follow. Really, there were a few things in life that made everything OK. An ice-cream cone and money, and since the world ended and they were hard to get, Del opted for the easy fix-all of Spam.