Judgement

by Eric A. Shelman

  Once he was up, she saw below them was a steady stream of desperate humanity clamoring up in their wake. They were pushing and shoving below, screams rising up and reaching their ears.

  “C’mon!” she said, moving along the catwalk to the south end of the building. When they reached the mother and her son, Roxy stopped and asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Nina,” she said.

  “Nina, follow us.”

  Roxy, Liam and Terry eased past her and increased their speed until they were at the south end. The woman followed. Once there, they turned left and moved down the narrower catwalk that branched off and connected to the east wall of the building.

  The catwalk here was mounted to the beams on the ceiling with more steel rods connecting it to the south corner, where the roof met the wall. As Nina reached them with her son in her arms again, Terry moved aside to let her pass. They all reached the end.

  “Now what?” asked Terry.

  “This looks about as solid as it’s going to get,” said Roxy. “Now we pray. Do you have your radio?”

  “What good will that do us? They already told us there’s no way to stop them.”

  “Not them,” said Roxy. “And not that radio. The portable ham. I need to reach my mom, tell her what’s happening!”

  The stream of people moving toward the ladder below was like a wave; now everybody had noticed the escape route and those who were once heading out of the building turned toward it.

  Their feet shook the catwalk as dozens more people reached the top of the ladder and climbed up, trying to secure their new safe havens from what was coming.

  Screams of panic and realization turned into the sounds of anger and fear, as patience reached its limits. Blows could be heard, grunts from those throwing them and receiving them; bodies were falling from the rungs as people clawed at those ahead of them, pulling them down atop the waiting crowd below.

  “Damnit!” said Roxy. “Terry, look for somewhere higher!”

  “Higher?” he asked, his head turning frantically. “Like where?”

  Roxy knelt down beside Nina and her son. “Just stay here, okay?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “We’re not sure, but we’ll be back. Just stay put and hold onto your son. Liam, stay with them, okay?”

  He nodded, but said nothing that Roxy could hear.

  After four or so steps, Roxy saw it was not going to be possible. The catwalk ahead of them was filling up, all the way from the south wall to the north side where the ladder was. Each branch off the main catwalk was crammed with shifting bodies as everyone clung to the railing to hold tight to their little space on the steel gridwork.

  “Turn around!” shouted Roxy. “Nothing there!”

  They pushed back through the crowd toward the shadowed corner where Nina clutched her boy.

  Terry suddenly tugged at Roxy’s top. “There!” he said, pointing. “Just behind Nina. See it?”

  Roxy didn’t, but she hurried forward anyway. There was a gap between the crowd and where Nina sat. Once through it, Roxy saw the curtain at which Terry pointed.

  It was black, and practically melted into the deep shadows. Roxy had been right beside it and never saw it.

  “Stand in front of me,” said Terry. “Block me so nobody sees. I’ll check it out.”

  Roxy said, “Nina, stand up. Here. Give me Gabriel.”

  Nina looked confused. “Why?”

  “Just do it, now!” said Roxy. She pulled Gabriel from Nina’s arms and she stood. “Okay, Nina, Liam, move over here, fast!”

  Once they reached the spot she indicated, Roxy put Gabriel down in front of his mother and Liam. She unslung her .22 rifle and raised the barrel into the face of a man who had charged right toward her in a dead run. She had never seen him before.

  The clearly frightened man put on his brakes and practically stumbled to a stop.

  Roxy said, “Back off. I discovered this catwalk first, and for that, we deserve a little room!”

  The man did not argue; he was unarmed, and just turned to watch the madness at the ladder below.

  There had to have been more than a hundred people on the catwalk, and it was swaying a good two feet side-to-side, and creaking.

  A louder groaning sound came, followed by two loud pops that were not, as Roxy had originally feared, gunfire. Suddenly, as Terry ducked behind the black curtain behind her, she watched in horror as the ladder pulled from the wall and bent sharply backward.

  Screams came from those clinging to the steel rungs as it bent backward, falling atop the crowd waiting below. Frightened refugees fought to grab the ladder and position it back against the wall, but the first who tried to climb up it were yanked backward, falling to the floor again.

  There was no way up now.

  Relief and horror filled Roxy.

  “Liam! Rox! Come here!”

  She turned but did not see him. “Where are you?”

  He popped his head out as he stood in a crouching position just behind her. “It’s a service area! Like a control room! Hurry! You two get Nina and her son and get in here!”

  Roxy reached them and turned Liam toward the east. “Crouch low, walk and listen for Terry,” she whispered. He did as she instructed.

  Roxy eyed the panicked crowd before her. Many eyes were scanning everywhere for somewhere safer than where they currently were, but she could not allow them to find Terry’s new hiding place.

  She hurried to Nina and Gabriel. “Pick up Gabriel and crouch low. Stay hidden behind me. Just move as I do.”

  Her gun barrel raised, Roxy walked backward, the mother and son hiding behind her, moving toward the alcove where Terry had found cover. Once there, she paused to make sure nobody was looking directly at them.

  With a glance, she realized Liam must have already joined Terry, as he was nowhere in sight.

  Gunfire erupted from below them as the several double doors into the building burst open, a flow of stinking, moaning dead sweeping through them like a dank, polluted river.

  All of the terrified faces turned that way.

  “Go, now!” urged Roxy, and Nina disappeared through the curtain, her son in her arms.

  “C’mon, Rox!” whispered Terry. “Now!”

  She had to make sure. Looking around, she saw everyone’s attention still fixated below. Roxy turned and ducked beneath the curtain.

  Once inside, Terry slammed the plywood door behind her and slid the lock in place. “Shhh,” said Terry, as Gabriel began to cry. “Please.”

  The sounds they heard next almost stopped their hearts from beating.

  The rising, terrified screams filled the upper rafters of the auditorium as the groans and creaks of compromised steel became the sounds of snapping welds and giant sections of metal walkway breaking free and slamming into the walls.

  Heavy thuds could be heard next as dozens and dozens of bodies, once safely above the creatures, now fell and became feasts awaiting them. The sounds of their bodies slamming into the floor was followed by a frenzy of the undead’s guttural growls and keens as they descended upon the waiting human feast.

  The steel floor beneath their feet shifted.

  “Hold on!” shouted Terry, and everyone did. A screeching sound of a long-rusted weld bending to its limits seemed to provide a soundtrack to the moving floor, but with a giant CRAAACK! the floor upon which they stood, sprung back and once again felt solid.

  The sound that followed was more agonized screams and the clang of steel on the wood floor below.

  “Cover your ears, Liam! You too Gabriel. Now!”

  Both children followed instructions, and they all slid down to sit on the remaining section of catwalk, hoping it would hold.

  Ω

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Along Rattlesnake Creek

  Unincorporated Modac County, California

  Magi Silver Bolt followed behind Tala, Tommy behind him. The trail leading up to the caverns was narrow and winding and app
eared to have been unused for many years, if not decades.

  “When my father and I came here, the road that allowed us to access this part of the canyon was not here. My father and I had to hike for more than a day to reach the caverns and take a small boat trip. From this point, it will only take us perhaps two hours.”

  “Jesus, two hours,” I said. “Shoulda brought Garland’s dirt bike.”

  He’d found an old Husqvarna back in Lebanon, and tinkered with it to get it running. When the zombies started to gather, he’d fire it up and ride it out of town, real slow. They’d follow right behind like he was the damned Pied Piper, and when he hauled ass back, I guess he lost ‘em.

  There were always more.

  Micky Rode led our group up the trail, following behind the three strangers we decided we would need to trust. As crazy as their story sounded, Wattana wasn’t there, and we had no backup plan for that scenario; he was our target.

  Swing and a miss. Maybe.

  The strategy we were currently executing would have to serve as our original plan’s replacement. The girl named Tala seemed to have a lot of historical knowledge about both Wattana and the Qualetaco dude who turned almost everyone I ever knew or loved into monsters.

  Not to mention the gators that once provided a living for my family. I thought about that for a second as I huffed and puffed my way up the trail.

  I missed my pa and my brothers. Clay and Tanner came to my mind about a thousand times every day, but I just choked the thoughts away, the scenario of never seeing either one of them again just too hard to wrap my head around.

  I’m just happy Lilly is still with me. I guess I’d already prepped myself for losing my pa, because he was never the same after ma’s death. It was what I knew about how he passed that ate away at me.

  There was too much stuff in this sick new world that couldn’t be unseen or unknown. None of it could ever be forgotten.

  Georgie, obviously detecting my deep thoughts, squeezed my hand in hers. I looked down to see her beautiful face smiling up at me. I mouthed the words thank you to her just as the portable ham on her hip crackled to life.

  “Georgi … ake. Georgina La –”

  “My God! It’s Rox!” said Georgie, and Lilly immediately stopped behind her.

  “Hold up!” I called. “Tala, it’s her daughter. Give us a minute.”

  “The trail does not reach a fork for another quarter mile,” said Tala. “We will continue. Come when you are ready and take it to the left side. The right leads to a sheer cliff.”

  Micky had been going over things with a couple of his traveling companions. He turned around to face us. “I’m going to go on ahead if you’re cool with it,” said Micky. He leaned forward and said in a low voice, “I don’t trust any of them yet.”

  His voice returned to a normal level again. “That Lebanon?” he asked.

  “It is,” said Georgie, who was fumbling to take the radio from her belt. She got it unclipped and said, “Roxy, come in, sweetheart. Come in. It’s me, mom.”

  “Mom!” the voice was excited, but also filled with tension. Roxy spoke as though using a loud whisper.

  “Rox, are you okay? We’re at the reservation – beyond it actually, but we’re with a girl and two others who might be able to help.”

  “Mom, I can’t talk long,” she said. “Are you on your way back?” Desperation tinged her words.

  “No, baby. We just got here, and we’re heading somewhere nearby. Everyone here is okay. What’s going on there?”

  “God, I’m just so glad to hear your voice. The horde broke through and the catwalk collapsed, and now we’re stuck up here –”

  “What catwalk? Where are you Rox?” said Georgie, and I swore she’d shatter that transceiver with as hard as she gripped it.

  Roxy spoke fast but softly. I knew the tone and cadence; people tended to do it a lot in a world where being quiet was a real good idea, but you still had a lot to say.

  “We’re in the auditorium,” she continued. “I don’t know if you saw it, but there’s a catwalk by the ceiling. I found it, and I kind of came up with a plan to get up here if everything went to crap. Well, it did. Terry, Liam and I, plus another woman and her son are up here.”

  “That sounds good, honey,” breathed Georgie, and I heard the respite in her voice. It was like a horse birthing a breach foal, or a snake shedding its skin. In her case, it was a woman relieved of a heavy burden.

  “It saved us. I know that. But so many … mom, so many others just panicked and followed us. It had to be over a hundred people. Probably more. I knew it wouldn’t support the weight. I couldn’t wait any longer, though. It was then or never, so we just went for it.”

  “But you’re safe?”

  “We are, but I don’t think there’s a way down, mom. We brought some food and water, but I don’t know if those things will ever leave once they … they … finish eating … .”

  “Don’t say it and don’t think about it, baby,” said Georgie. “They might not leave. If they don’t, we’ll just deal with them when we get back. You just stay up where you are, and conserve what supplies you have. Did you bring weapons?”

  “Yeah, yes. Quite a bit of ammunition, too. Like I said, I saw the catwalk and I planned it. I saw this coming, which is why I didn’t want too many people to notice the platform, but we got lucky when all of it collapsed. The section we’re in is a little control booth for the lights and stuff. It’s right up against the southeast corner. It was the only section against the corner of the building, so it didn’t fall.”

  “Thank God,” breathed Georgina. “Liam and Terry are both okay, Rox?”

  “They are,” said Roxy. “We’re all safe. I don’t have any idea how many of the ones who ran outside made it. The horde was supposed to be in the thousands.”

  “Maybe they’ll keep moving after,” said Georgie. “Just keep going in whatever direction they were moving.”

  I knew Georgie meant after the monsters were done eating the people who had plummeted from the collapsed catwalk. Just the idea of it made me think of all the people we’d met there, many of them likely among the dead. Hopeful, hard-working folks who came along with Micky because they wanted to live.

  If they’d have wanted to fight, they’d be with us, and they’d most likely be alive. I had to admit it to myself, though; not everyone was capable. They didn’t have it in them.

  I don’t even know how I have any of that kinda fight in me. Survival, I guess.

  “We’re going to wait another few hours and have a look outside,” said Roxy.

  “Rox, no,” said Georgina. “You’ve only got a few hours before nightfall. If you have provisions, just stay up there as long as you can!”

  “Mom, I told you we can’t get down. I don’t mean outside the auditorium; I mean outside this enclosure. Just to look down and see if they’re still there. When they’re not feeding or on the move, they can be very quiet.”

  With her eyes on me, filled with both worry and hope, she almost whispered, “Okay, Rox. Keep the ham radio on this frequency and turn the volume down low so those things don’t realize you’re up there.”

  “It’s already down, mom. We’re all leaning in to hear you.”

  “Good.”

  I held out my hand and Georgina gave me the transceiver. “Rox, Terry, Liam?”

  I heard them all answer in low tones. “Y’all take care of one another now, you hear me?”

  “We will,” said Liam. “I can outshoot all these guys. I was training with the Indian kids.”

  “Think before you act,” I said. “No matter how big or small the action. Think of the consequences and you’ll stay alive.”

  “We will,” came back in chorus of cautious voices. I gave the mic back to Georgina. She smiled at me, the relief still evident in her features.

  She put the mic to her lips. “Be quiet. We will come back the second we’re done in this place.”

  “Did you find Wattana?” asked Roxy.r />
  “He’s dead,” said Georgie. “But we found someone else who might stand a better chance at stopping this thing.”

  “Stopping it? Mom, really?”

  I spoke again. “We don’t know what that looks like, guys. None of us do. Within a couple of hours we might. Like your mom said, keep the radio on. We’ll call you once we have news.”

  Ω

  On Highway 139 Between the Hintoka and Henomawi Indian Reservations

  Qaletaqa sat in the fortified pickup truck, the exterior armored, the leaf springs replaced with the heaviest-duty after-market parts they could procure.

  They could see out of several narrow slots torch-cut into the steel that covered the windshield, and the side windows were blacked out to prevent dead eyes from being drawn to them.

  Qaletaqa was not the attraction; he did not draw the dead. It was his driver, whom he forbade to wear the mud paste that Magi Silver Bolt had created. He did not wish to endure the smell of the dead for the almost 150 miles he had to travel to reach the caves.

  The very old man smiled, despite his impatience.

  The trip was slow; the horde behind them, now numbering close to 4,000, could not move faster than ten miles per hour, and they could only be enticed to do that by using his own people as bait to draw them. He found that six was the perfect number to hold the interest of the horde of skinwalkers.

  Once the skinwalkers in the front of the pack caught a scent, they would move faster, almost tripling the speed at which they moved when no fresh meat was nearby.

  Qaletaqa was not entirely unsympathetic to the intensity of such a duty, however; he switched out the unprotected six every two hours.

  Occasionally the skinwalkers almost got lucky and caught one. That was okay. It kept their interest.

  If Tala had told Magi Silver Bolt and whoever else had escaped the burning teepees with them about the caves, it was where they would go. If they were there, they would die in those caverns.

  He fought the urge to drive ahead; the problem was he did not trust his people enough to follow. They had been as surprised as the rest of the world at the appearance of the black rain – most of them anyway. They had not known of his plan in advance of its execution.