The first group of people Kurt approached – two women with four respective children – ignored Kurt’s plea and instead begged him to help find their missing one. Kurt didn’t even get a chance to ask for help before one of the women let out a wail and ran into the gloom. A little farther on Kurt saw the silhouette of someone that could’ve been mistaken for the Hulk. His muscles bulged as his hands laced around the back of his head. He was looking left to right, spinning on the spot and grunting. Kurt thought of asking him to help. Those muscles would be enough to lift the bleachers, right? Until the man suddenly doubled over and simply growled, causing Kurt to take a few steps in the opposite direction and run.
By the time Kurt had begun to get desperate, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he thought about the pain Emily must be in, wondering how much blood a person can lose before it’s over and the Holy Lord came to claim your soul, people’s attitudes had changed entirely. One woman seemed not to acknowledge Kurt’s pleas at all, while a young couple knelt on the floor, locked in a hug, simply snapped and clapped their teeth at him. Burning anger in their eyes.
Kurt found it difficult to swallow as he fought back a fresh wave of tears.
Why won’t anyone help me? he sobbed.
Out of nowhere, a teenage girl appeared from the mist. She was sprinting, not particularly looking where she was going. The next second she had crashed into Kurt and they both toppled to the floor.
“Hey, what the hell?”
“Watch where you’re going!” the girl screamed, spit flying from her lips as she pushed herself back to her feet. There was a hot fury in her face and her eyes seemed unseeing. Kurt quickly stood up, noting that the girl’s top had slipped off her shoulders and there were strange markings on her skin. A small network of something dark spidering up beneath her flesh, working from her heart to her neck, like little lines of ink blown across a paper page. “Beat it, kid,” she added before disappearing once again.
Kurt ran his fingers through his hair, considering his options. Should he keep trying to find someone that might actually help him in his hour of need to free Emily from the bleachers? Or head back and spend her precious last seconds by her side, wishing and praying that they would have more time. After all, Kurt had no idea how much time had passed since he first set out for help. Would she even still be alive when he got back? He wasn’t even entirely sure of his bearings. Everywhere looked the same as far as the eye could see.
Deciding he’d at least like to see if Emily was still breathing, he ran in the general direction of where he believed the bleachers to be, thinking of Emily’s words. Maybe when all this was over they’d have the chance to be together? Kurt had no experience with girlfriends but thought that Emily would make a great starting point. She was kind, sweet, pretty. Even reminded him of Amy in a lot of ways.
Just as Kurt began to worry that he was running in the wrong direction, the shape of the bleachers appeared in the gloom. He lowered his head and doubled his speed, trying to ignore the squabble that came from somewhere nearby. The sound of an animal screeching, followed by, “Hey! You’re sick! Leave her alone… No! Leave her… please… let her go!”
The words fizzled away into nothing as a large glob of sweat ran down Kurt’s spine. He was nearly there. He weaved past the bodies of people he recognised, focusing all his thoughts on Emily. On hearing her sweet voice. On—
But when Kurt arrived at the edge of the bleachers, she was gone. No sign that she had been there, other than a puddle of blood where her leg had been trapped, and the flattened outline of her body on the grass.
Kurt suddenly felt very alone.
7
“Emily?” Kurt called, his voice swallowed by the wall of thick droplets around him. He shuffled on the spot, squinting, looking for any sign of her at all.
Had someone come to rescue her while he had been hunting for help? Had her screams and cries done what Kurt had failed to do, summoning people to help that still had a conscience? Could Hulk have stumbled across her lying there and happened to be with a group who could have lifted the structure and freed her leg?
He supposed it could be possible. But would that mean she was out there now in the fog looking for him? Or would she be sat somewhere safe, receiving medical attention, waiting for him to come to her?
He shaded his eyes and had one last look around, but there was nothing that might reveal her whereabouts. Not even a trail of blood.
But when Kurt stood straight, deciding that he’d try to find the Visitor Center to see if maybe she had been taken there, he did notice something that startled him. He wasn’t even sure what it was. At first, something just felt different. A feeling of displacement, as though something had changed and he wasn’t sure what. He spun on the spot, then looked at the bodies sprawled on the bleachers, and realised then what it was. Several of the bodies that had been strewn across the rows of benches had gone. Where they had been only moments before, now they had just vanished. Even Kaitlin, who had been lying directly above Emily, was no longer to be seen.
Poof. Gone.
An uneasy feeling settled into Kurt’s stomach.
He turned in what he believed to be the direction of the Visitor Center and kicked his feet at the floor. Some distance away he heard another one of those animal-like screeches. Then another, as if they were calling to each other.
A group of bodies came into view just to Kurt’s right. Great… more people who can ignore a kid in need, he thought desperately to himself. But Kurt was alone now. What if they’d be able to help him?
No, Kurt. Focus. Emily will be waiting in the Center for you. Her leg will look gross, but there’s a medic with bandages and medicine to help her. You’ll see. You’ll—
“Kurt?” The voice came as the faintest sound. Like a breeze on a summers day, it teased his ear. “Stop… I need… Kurt…”
Was he hearing things? He looked wildly around for Emily, half-expecting her to be walking at him through the fog. But all he could see were the shapes of the people to his right, kneeling over something that he couldn’t quite see.
Were they resuscitating her? A sudden vivid image arose in his mind of Emily fighting for breath, a paramedic in greens and whites pumping her chest, struggling to keep her heart going. The final light of consciousness escaping her body.
He walked slowly over to the group. Two adults, one child. All kneeled on the floor together as if deep in prayer. Their hair hung dankly to their heads as they appeared to bob up and down. The largest of the lot was in the centre, folded practically in half over something in the middle of them all. The smaller one – Kurt guessed must have been only six years old – bounded from one side of the huddle to the other as a dog might run excitedly around its owner’s leg. When Kurt was a few metres away from them he saw that his thoughts were right. The thing in the centre of them was a body.
“Kuuurt.” Barely more than a whisper.
The hairs on the back of Kurt’s neck stood on end. His eyes burned with a fresh wash of tears. He took a couple more brave steps forwards and the picture came into view.
The kneeling group were feasting on Emily.
Kurt’s breath caught in his throat. Now far too close for his own comfort he heard the slurping sounds as the kneeling three dug, scratched, and scooped at the various components of her body. There was a large gash from her left breast to her naval, and the young boy kept thrusting his hand in excitedly, withdrawing and licking his glistening fingers. The others merely grunted and slurped as they ate, unaware of the boy stood no more than fifteen feet away, frozen to the spot.
Kurt couldn’t understand what he was seeing. Was it real? Was this some kind of messed up nightmare? Would he be waking any moment now, finding that he had fallen asleep on the bus, and would soon be arriving at the Visitor Center for real? None of this made sense at all. How had the world suddenly gone mad?
The largest of the group growled, then took in a deep breath. Kurt watched as the mist swirled in front of
the man’s face before it was sucked down his throat.
The bomb? The mist? Is that what’s turning people mad? That had to have something to do with it, right? But then, why was Kurt fine—
The boy stuck his head inside Emily’s chest cavity and bounded with glee. This seemed to anger the larger man who slapped him aside with a grunt. The boy leant back on his haunches and hissed through blackened lips. As his neck stretched, Kurt saw that same spiderweb of dark veins protruding from his collar and staining his neck.
That was enough for Kurt. He could feel the tears coming, and the last thing he wanted to do was to draw the attention of the group, reminding him more of a pack of feral wolves now than humans that had come just to see a show.
He took a slow step back and was ready to turn and run when the boy suddenly froze and stood up straight. Kurt stopped in his tracks. The boy sniffed at the air for a moment. Kurt held his breath. His neck snapped in Kurt’s direction. His eyes widened and he let out a roar. An ungodly sound for a boy so young that pierced through the din of the battlefield. The man and woman turned in an instant and rose to their full height. Kurt saw globules of yellow stream into their mouths with each breath, their veins pulsing beneath their translucent skin.
*
There was a change in the atmosphere that Lucas didn’t like. Where before there had been the sounds of human distress, now the cries and sobs seemed to be settling down, replaced by calls of animals. Although every time he tried to head in the direction of one of the screeches, he found himself lost again in the mist.
Oh, this is bad… this is bad… this is baaad.
Lucas looked up as a shape appeared. It was a woman of average height, slender build. She had come out today in a white halter top and denim shorts showing her tanned skin. Were Lucas in a shopping mall and she was walking past, perhaps he might have spared a cheeky glance in her direction, filing away the image into his bank of carnal thoughts. But this was not the case. She rushed towards him, arms trailing behind as a kid might whilst pretending to be an aeroplane. The sound leaving her mouth was terrible, piercing Lucas’ ears. Underneath her flesh, he could see her veins, not quite their usual blue. More a darkish grey. Darkening every second.
A montage of images flashed through his mind. The Revivers. The RevitaGo trials. What did all this mean? That someone had found a way to turn the RevitaGo formula into a weapon?
He stepped out the way just as the woman was about to collide with him. She continued her course, running straight into the daffodil gloom on the other side. For a moment, Lucas thought of chasing after her, his scientific mind interested in observing the change. Until he heard more animal noises, the sound of bears fighting, and realised that maybe it was time to go.
He walked briskly, fearing that running might draw too much attention to himself. The body count was high. Corpses littered the field, and Lucas found himself wondering if this variation of the mist did indeed act in the way that the original formula had intended. If the bomber’s words were true, and each person now laying dead on the battlefield were currently working their way through the tunnel and into the light. One-by-one experiencing the wonders of the Deadspace.
A commotion. The sound of growls, close now. A few people running and screeching somewhere nearby.
Suddenly, just to his right, he saw a group of people sprinting past. Only, the kid at the front appeared different to the rest. Where he was running as a track runner might in a race, the others were hunched, tearing along the field in a way that reminded Lucas of werewolves and bears.
He began to run. The kid was in trouble.
*
All sense of location had dissipated into the nothingness around him but Kurt ran anyway. He placed foot after foot, burying himself in the mist, hoping to God he didn’t run into anything, but fearing that stopping would be worse. Forever spurred on by the sound of the boy’s grunting growing louder in his ears.
The boy was quick. But the other two had to have been faster. The younger of their pack got a good head-start on them, but with every passing second, Kurt could hear the heavy tread of footsteps. Once or twice he saw other ghostly figures just on the edge of his vision turn their head, and he hoped and prayed that they wouldn’t join the party. With every other step came a hop or a leap over the body of an unlucky soul who had perished in the explosion.
“No!” he screamed as his foot slid along the damp grass and he lost balance. He dropped his hand to the floor and pushed himself off the ground, managing to avoid tumbling over.
Stupid! Stupid. Concentrate and run. That’s all you need to do. Get to the building and then…
And then, what? Lock the doors and hope that they couldn’t break through glass? He felt like he’d already been running for hours. His legs had begun to feel tight, and he doubted he was even heading in the right direction.
One step at a time. Something’s got to appear eventually…
And not a moment later, there it was – the silhouetted outline of the Visitor Center, appearing like a haunting freight ship out of the fog.
Kurt doubled his efforts and soon felt the marble stairs beneath his feet. He darted up the first few steps easily enough, but just as he neared the top his heel caught on the slick, smooth surface. He fell onto his front, narrowly avoiding hitting his head, and instantly bruising several parts of his body. Behind him, he heard the frenzied huffing and growling of the boy, now neck-and-neck with the older two. And just beyond them, he could hear more of their kind getting closer.
A sickening smile grew on the monstrous boy’s face. He reached the bottom of the stairs, slapped all his limbs against the floor at once, and leapt several feet into the air.
Kurt closed his eyes tight and counted the seconds before teeth would rip flesh.
Three.
The boy’s salivating mouth growled.
Two.
The other two screeched.
One.
A white hot pain shot from Kurt’s head to his heart.
Zero.
The world went silent.
8
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
The pain had appeared and gone in an instant, leaving nothing more than a faint throb in Kurt’s head. He kept his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable, but nothing came. Only silence.
Was this it? Is this all ‘death’ is?
Kurt supposed he had always wondered what it would be like. The moment a heart stopped beating and the end came. A voracious reader, he’d lived through the deaths of many of his favourite characters. Gandalf falling to his doom in The Lord of the Rings, Dobby stabbed in Harry Potter, Chewbacca in the now non-canon Star Wars Expanded Universe. Though in those tales there was always far more emphasis on the actual death itself than what existed beyond it. No one ever explained that part. Nobody ever told him what happened in the beyond.
Kurt had dabbled with the idea of religion. Especially when he was younger, perching himself on his knees and praying out of his bedroom window to an almighty in the skies for wishes that never came true. His real parents had told him of God. Of the power that he possessed and the wonders he could bring. That prayers could be answered and wishes could come true. But it had been his sister that had really made him question the idea.
“Why would an all-loving God tear down cities with earthquakes and give babies cancer? I mean, really, you’ve got to think of that. If you had the power to do anything, would you hurt people?” she had asked one night, one earphone in as she sat texting on her phone.
And the final nail in the coffin was that fateful evening that his parents had been driving back from their weekly date night. Their car decided to careen off a patch of ice and kiss the bumper of another. When Kurt awoke to the news of his parents’ death, no words, even from Amy, could save what little faith he had left.
Of course, there was still a part of him that believed in something. Believing in a life after death of sorts somehow made it easier to think that his parents were waiti
ng for him. That they’d be there with open arms and picture-frame smiles ready to be reunited when Kurt eventually did kick the bucket. Maybe Amy would be there too? The whole gang back together.
Kurt steeled himself for what lay beyond. A land of fire and brimstone? Clouds and gold? Maybe just a black abyss with no end?
But when Kurt opened his eyes there were no heavenly gates, no angels, or family, no pits of lava, or black swamps of lost souls. Simply the same field, the same grass, the same everything… mostly.
Everything had stopped. Everything was still as if somebody had hit pause on the world, taken a picture and immortalised the moment. Only, the air was cold, and everything was a shade darker. The saturated yellows of the daylight sun had faded to grey. The shadows so deep and thick they looked ready to swallow him up. He could hear the cool wind passing his ears, now. But that was all. Even his breathing had been muted.
And he was standing.
A good few meters forward from the steps he’d tripped on.
“Hello?” he said, taking a step forward.
In the mist behind him, he saw the outline of the Visitor Center, a few inky silhouettes of humans and monsters, some bodies peppering the field around him. The smell of old fire lingered. It clung to his nostrils with each breath. A constant reminder of the musket fire… or the bomb perhaps?
Kurt took a few more cautious steps forward, his eyes moving in all directions, trying his best to take it all in. He wandered along the grass, feeling his feet slide on an inky smudge on the floor he’d wrongly presumed to be a shadow. A shadow that belonged to a tall man with thick black hair, a small beard, and a concentrated look on his face. His body was statuesque in its stillness as if he’d been frozen in carbonite. He held a gun straight in front of him, trained at something behind Kurt.
Lazarus Page 4