Eaters: Resurrection

by Michelle DePaepe

  “I’m sorry.” Vinnie blurted out during the lull in the conversation. He said it facing forward. Then, he turned around and looked at them directly and said it again. “I’m sorry…I really believed Erik was all right. He was a really good actor, because he fooled me. He tricked me into bringing him to the church. He pretended all along like he didn’t give one flip where we were going as long as it was somewhere safe.”

  “I think it goes without saying now…we can’t trust anyone who’s had anything to do with O.N.E.” Cheryl said. “You don’t know where their mind’s at.”

  Aidan let out a huff. “I never liked the guy.”

  That’s no news flash, Cheryl thought.

  “So, what was with him?” Zach asked. “Pointing a gun at us? And what the freak was he rambling about? We’re being attacked by a horde and he pulls a gun on us, because he thinks we’re hiding Jeremiah somewhere? I mean…”

  Cheryl told them how he’d snuck in the bedroom and held her at gunpoint while he tried to get her to confess to hiding the pastor and former scientist somewhere. Aidan listened intently and didn’t seem to doubt her story; after all, he’d witnessed Erik’s bizarre intentions firsthand after staring down the barrel of the gun in his hand.

  “Why would he care?” Diego asked. “Why would he want Jeremiah?”

  “Apparently, O.N.E. wanted him. And they must have promised a pretty big prize to anyone who brought Jeremiah in.”

  “A prize?” Zach scoffed. “Like money? Sex?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Aidan said. “But, maybe they didn’t even bother with that. We’ve heard of some of the tactics they use to get what they’re after. It might simply have been some kind of monarch programming. We all heard Erik talking about their mind control tactics in the barracks. They might have had something subliminal going on too. Maybe, Erik didn’t even know what his mission was until he was at Divine Sundaes, and something triggered him.”

  “You might be onto something,” Cheryl said, knowing exactly where he’d gotten the inspiration for the statement. They had both known someone a while back who’d been a friendly and very helpful part of their group until the day he’d turned into Mr. Hyde.

  “That’s why he did it,” Vinnie said. “Running away from the van like that. It was suicide, because he’d failed in his mission.”

  “I don’t think it’s any coincidence that we got such a big attack last night,” Zach said. “I mean…the one before...maybe that was random. But so many of them this time had those black EM boxes.”

  Diego clenched his fists and snarled. “That, right. So, maybe Erik was supposed to pull Jeremiah out of there and take us out. And in case he didn’t accomplish the latter, they sent the Beasts to finish us off. Thanks a lot, Vinnie. You’re the one who led that dirtbag to us.”

  “I said I was sorry! What more can I do?”

  “Lay off him,” Cheryl said. “What’s done is done. We’ve got to think ahead now.”

  They rode on for another half hour, continuing north on 77. Hopes rose when they reached Globe. It hadn’t had a large population before the outbreak, but there were more buildings around that could have supplies or shelter potential. They studied the options as they drove through, looking for a place with sturdy walls and not a lot of windows. Cheryl was about to suggest that the large, stone cathedral they were approaching might have some promise when Aidan preempted her.

  “This is a ghost town. I got a bad feeling here.”

  As he said the words, a figure stepped onto the staircase in front of the cathedral. He was neatly dressed in a black button-down shirt tucked into a pair of slacks, and he was stooped a little like he was exhausted. His face was in shadow from the overhang of the eaves, and for a half second Cheryl thought to tell Zach to stop the van. The man took another step into the blue morning light and looked towards them. His eyes were narrow slits; his pallor was ashen, and the front of his shirt was shiny and wet from a slick stain of blood. Her disappointment increased tenfold as what looked like a party of dead wedding guests tumbled out of the building behind him, potentially lured by the sound of their van’s engine. They shoved and pushed, trying to all get down the stairs at once. The man in black was knocked over the edge of the staircase and plummeted to the sidewalk several feet below.

  “Not a ghost town,” Cheryl said. “A dead town.”

  “It’d be bad karma to hole up in another church anyway,” Aidan replied. “Our luck ran out at the last one.”

  It seemed that the town’s ghoulish residents were all awake now. They came pouring out of the historic buildings: the post office, antique shops, barbershop, theater, and Ernesto’s—a Mexican restaurant. All had their hands outstretched, desperately reaching for the meals on wheels rolling past them.

  Zach picked up his speed, trying to race ahead of some of the crowd that was gathering in their path. “I guess that horde last night didn’t come from here. This place is infested!”

  “Yeah…” Vinnie said, gripping the edge of his seat and trying to shrink away from the windows. “And the sooner we get outta Dodge the happier I’ll be!”

  The side mirrors knocked against a few hands and limbs as they hurried down the street. When they cleared through the crowd, Cheryl looked back and saw their wake filling in with walking corpses who seemed to be waiving in angst at their departure.

  Once the town was in their rearview mirror Vinnie wiped his brow. “Whew! That was a place I don’t intend to visit again, at least not until those folks clean themselves up a bit.”

  Vinnie’s back, Cheryl thought. He’s found his sense of humor.

  When they were about another three miles further away, Zach pulled the van to the side of the road and killed the ignition.

  “What’re you doing, amigo?” Diego asked.

  “I’ve been watching this gas needle get lower and lower, and we’re going to run out of gas in the middle of nowhere if we don’t get a plan together. We’re almost to the Apache Indian Reservation. I’ve been through there once. There’s nothing for miles. And even if we’re lucky to run across any abandoned cars, their tanks will be empty like all the rest we’ve passed.”

  “I doubt we’ve got a hundred rounds of ammo left between us.” Aidan said. “I don’t think going back to Globe is an option.”

  “No way,” Vinnie said. “I think I’d rather play cowboy out here and eat squirrel and pine cones.”

  Diego shook his head. “Out in the elements with no shelter? That’s just waiting to die a slower death.”

  “We’ve been on foot before,” Cheryl said. “If we run into a horde, we can outrun them until we find shelter.”

  “No offense, ma’am,” Diego said in an exaggerated drawl, “But, that’s a bit too sunshine-y to me. As I recall, we had motorcycles not running shoes when we bailed out of our camp in the mountains. If we’re on foot and we run into a huge horde, I say we might as well kiss our asses goodbye because we’ll run ourselves out before they do.”

  Zach mumbled something under his breath.

  “What?” Diego asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You got a better idea?”

  “You’re all a bunch of freaking—”

  “You talking to me?” Diego snarled. “You gotta say something….come back here and—”

  Zach opened the driver’s side door and got out. He slammed the door shut and walked a few yards off the road into the scrub.

  “Let me out of here,” Diego said. “I got to go talk some sense into that…” Diego pushed his way past Cheryl and cranked the handle to open the sliding door. He jumped out and ran over to Zach, throwing his hands up in the air with wild gestures as the Spanish flew from his tongue like stinging wasps.

  Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Great. We’re in the middle of nowhere trying to figure out what to do next, and they decide to have a pissing contest over nothing.”

  “We need to figure something out,” Aidan said. “I feel like a damn sitting duck out here on the open
road. I say we might as well drive as far as the gas takes us and hope it doesn’t run out in the middle of a horde.”

  It wasn’t a good plan, but she couldn’t think of a better idea. Why start walking yet, when they could drive a little longer?

  Vinnie had been staring down at his hands and had been quiet for a couple of minutes. Now, his eyes looked over Cheryl’s left shoulder. “Maybe we could ask whoever that is for a ride.”

  Aidan and Cheryl turned around and saw the dust cloud approaching. Their hands went for their guns.

  Diego leapt back in through the side door.

  “Who in the hell could that be?” Zach said as he hopped back into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Should we run?”

  “There’s nowhere to hide out here,” Aidan said. “They’ve surely already seen us.”

  A form was starting to become visible within the haze of the dust. It was a rectangular, horizontal shape, blue in color.

  “It’s not O.N.E. It’s a pickup.”

  Vinnie was growing visibly agitated, pulling on the tufts of his beard. Cheryl thought he might decide to leap from the van and make a run for it. “Stay calm,” she said, speaking to him, more than the others.

  “Well…” Zach said. “The good news is…dead men don’t drive trucks and it doesn’t look like O.N.E. But, they may not be friendly, so let’s just play it cool and see who it is.”

  Vinnie ducked down low, and the rest of them held their breath as the truck got nearer. It didn’t slow until it was within ten yards of them. Then, the driver put on the brakes.

  “You realize we’re sitting in a O.N.E. van and these windows are tinted so dark; he can’t see in here.” Cheryl said. “The driver might be more scared of us than we are of him. Let’s wave to him or something.”

  Zach rolled down the driver’s side window and stuck a hand out, waving in a rhythmic motion that seemed an attempt to make himself look like a live person instead of a zombie.

  The driver in the truck sat motionless for a few seconds then he stuck out his arm, waved back, and shouted to them. “Hola!”

  Zach set his gun in his lap and put both hands out the window. “Hola! Buenos dias.”

  “Buenos dias,” the driver replied, leaning out the window. He sported a black mustache like a fuzzy caterpillar over his upper; his gaunt face had deep creases around the eyes, and the pupils inside his dark brown irises stared back at Vinnie with an unwavering intensity underneath the brim of his straw hat.

  “It’s just a guy. Just one guy.” Cheryl said.

  Zach glanced at Vinnie. “Button up your shirt.”

  “What?”

  “This guy looks like a farmer. He’s probably been going it alone for the last ten months. Let’s pull some authority and get him to take us to his house.”

  “You want me to pretend I’m a One New Earth cop? I don’t—”

  Zach picked up his gun and nudged Vinnie in the ribs. “Do it. Or, he could blaze out of here and we’ll miss out on a chance for shelter and food.”

  Vinnie sighed and began to button up the black shirt of his O.N.E. uniform. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Tell him you have orders to inspect the dwellings of all survivors to make a list of what supplies they need the most.”

  “I can’t lie like that.”

  “Bullshit!” Aidan sniped. “Back at Milkman’s Auto, you b-essed those O.N.E. inspectors like you’d been saying your lines on Broadway for ten years.”

  “Oh…farts and crap.” Vinnie said as he opened the front passenger door. “Now I gotta play like I’m on the other team.”

  “Hey,” Cheryl called after him as he stepped out. “Be careful.”

  Before Vinnie rounded the back of the van, Zach stepped out with both hands in the air, waving and doing his best to act friendly. “Hey amigo. Habla inglés?”

  Still leaning out the window, the truck driver inched his way closer until he was just fifteen feet behind the van. “Si. I mean yes,” the man said. His eyes grew wider as he saw Vinnie approach with the gun. “I don’t want no trouble, señores. I’m just going home.”

  There was a couple seconds of silence as Zach and Vinnie stared at him, seeming not to know what to say next.

  “You …live around here?” Vinnie asked.

  “Si.” The man nodded.

  “Why are you on the road?’ Vinnie asked.

  “I was delivering my last chicken to a friend. Well…I was…” he said, throwing his hands back. “…but the chicken got out and ran off.”

  “Step out of the truck, please,” Vinnie said with a more emboldened voice.

  The man didn’t move.

  Still watching alongside Aidan, Cheryl wondered what the man was going to do. It seemed possible that at any second he might gun the engine, mow down Zach, and take off.

  The man looked at Vinnie, at Zach, and towards the van, seeming to try to discern if the two men who’d stopped him were alone or had company. After another moment of hesitation, he got out and put his hands up in the air. He was of medium stature and wore dirty jeans, and boots. As Vinnie kept his gun trained on him, Zach walked to the truck, peered inside and checked out the contents of the truck bed. Showing no sign of alarm, he walked back to the van, leaned inside the window and whispered, “No weapons. Nothing but an empty cage and some junk in the back.”

  Vinnie continued his interrogation. “What’s your name?”

  “Hector.”

  “Well…Hector. We’re going to need to document your location and list the supplies you’re short on, so we can submit a requisition.”

  Watching from the back of the van, Cheryl winced. That sounded so canned, it wouldn’t convince a three year old.

  The man looked at Vinnie curiously like he either didn’t understand or didn’t trust what he was being told. Zach repeated the statement again in Spanish.

  The man nodded. “Okay. Si…si. I guess I could use some things. “I can tell you what I need.”

  “We need to go with you to inspect—”

  “Why do you need to know where I live?”

  Vinnie shouldered his gun and clasped his hands together. “Alright…look…We’re going to be releasing some newly programmed Beasts soon. If we don’t mark you on the map, your house could become a target.”

  “Los brutos?” the man said as he made the sign of the cross on his chest. “You’re here to protect me?”

  “Yes,” Vinnie said.

  “I can protect myself,” Hector said with a chuckle.” I’ve been safe in my house for many months now.”

  “I don’t doubt that. The fact that you’re here is proof enough of your self-reliance, but I’m sure you don’t want to find out how many Beasts your home can hold up against.”

  That statement made Hector look a little more worried.

  The sun was higher in the sky now, a great white ball of light, heating up the pavement and the air in the van. Cheryl wished they’d hurry up and get Hector back on the road.

  “We’re going to cook in this van while they work this out,” Aidan said as he wiped sweat from his brow.

  “I’m already baked and fried,” Diego said. “I’m done.” He leapt of the van and ignored the looks from Zach and Vinnie as he walked over to Hector. “Hector…mi compadre. Let’s get going. I’ll ride with you.” He looked back at Zach and gave him a smirk. “Our van’s gotten too full of hot air”.

  Zach grimaced in response, and Hector looked even more nervous as he sized up the tall, armed ruffian who was about to become his passenger.

  “No worries, Hector. If you’ve been going it alone, you could probably use someone to shoot the shit with. Am I right?”

  When the man didn’t respond, Diego leaned in closer to him and said something to him in Spanish. Hector responded with a toothy grin and a nod. It was hard for Cheryl to tell if Diego had said something funny or made a threat that made Hector realized there was no shaking this group that had decided to stick to him like a fleas on a f
at dog.

  “He tries anything stupid—” Zach warned Diego.

  “I got it,” Diego said as he hopped in the passenger side of Hector’s truck.

  A minute later, they were back on the road, following the trail of dust behind the beat up, blue Ford as it cruised northeast on the two lane road them deeper into Gila country towards Salt River Canyon.

  ###

  After driving for several miles, turning east on a dirt road and bumping along for a while, Zach, Vinnie, Cheryl, and Aidan followed Hector and Diego up the gravel driveway to an old farmhouse. They parked, got out of the van, and surveyed the property. Adjacent to the old stucco house was a chicken coop and a small, abandoned garden plot thick with dandelions, thistles, and lamb quarters. An offshoot of the gravel road led to a dilapidated barn that had once been red, but was now a shamble of mostly splintered silvery-brown wood. There was an empty, fenced pasture nearby filled with wild grasses and weeds several feet tall.

  Cheryl stared at the pasture, not liking the cover it could provide for anyone approaching. She did have some appreciation for Hector’s defense system, though. He’d wrapped barbed wire around the perimeter of the split rail fence that circled the house, coop, and garden. There were tatters of bloody cloth and leathery bits that looked like dried flesh dangling from it in places—a testament to the fact that the barrier had at least been partially effective in slowing down if not stopping Eaters.

  A garbled moan sounded from somewhere near the far side of the house.

  “He he he,” Hector chuckled. “Got another one.”

  They followed his gaze to the far back corner of the house where a stooped figure stood next to the fence swaying back and forth like a gnarled tree in the wind.