Resurrection
Resurrection
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2015 by Kevin Collins
First paperback edition: September 2015
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to
actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The
author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication
is prohibited.
For those who call me Poppy
CHAPTER 1: Resurrection: Genesis
CHAPTER 6: Resurrection: Desolation
Chapter 14: Resurrection: atonement
Chapter 1
September, 2024
Mark Theriot punched the snooze button on the alarm clock beside the bed and then rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep but he was rudely roused again nine minutes later by the timer’s insistent beeping.
He reached across the bed, shut off the alarm and sat up. He put his feet on the floor and perched himself on the edge of the mattress and ran his fingers through his hair and contemplated his toes. He had his dad’s toes; at least that is what his mother had always told him, but having never met his father he had only her word to go by.
He stood and walked over to the window and opened the blinds, “another rainy day,” he said in disgust. Steel gray clouds hung low in the morning sky and the rain which had been falling heavily earlier before dawn had slowed for the time being. He longed for the blue of the sky and he ached for the sunshine.
He questioned himself at times and wondered if his recollections of the azure heavens were based in reality. He pondered his sanity, were his memories of the fiery dog days merely the phantom visions of a madman?
He could not recall when the rains had first begun; they had come on so gradually. In the beginning, several days of heavy cloud cover would be punctuated by a few days of brilliant sunshine, but as time went by rainy days became the rule rather than the exception.
At first it was not really like rain at all but merely a heavy mist more reminiscent of a very light snow as the droplets of moisture blew about in the breeze. As time went on however the rains had become at times flooding torrents.
The ground, unable to soak up the excess of moisture had become much like a saturated sponge. Rivers overflowed their banks and some communities had to be abandoned as the streets became permanent waterways.
The sickness and the rains came together and the two were so intertwined that if one spoke of the rain in conversation it was understood that they were also speaking of the disease. Sickness and rain, moisture and illness, one was nearly indistinguishable from the other.
He put on his raincoat and rubber boots and made the short trek to Landry’s Hardware and Hunting Supply where he worked. He had worked for Mr. and Mrs. Landry for about a year and had stumbled into the job soon after his return from New Mexico.
He had journeyed to the high deserts of the American west in an effort to exorcise some unpleasant ghosts from his past; his success in this endeavor however was debatable. He had learned one thing from the experience however, and that was that he could not escape from himself.
The Landry’s were nice folks; they had taken him under their wing and had helped him out when no one else would. Many nights he had sat at their table and was blessed with a hot, home cooked meal. The couple also let him live rent free in a small house on the store property.
Mrs. Landry had been insistent on his attending church services with them on Sunday mornings, and there he had found a slight reprieve from his demons. He loved the Landry’s as if they were his own parents—he wished they were—and he theorized that they had adopted him as the child they were never able to have.
The small house where he lived was behind the store so he need only walk about thirty yards to the back door. The store itself was located in a rural area and was rather isolated scattered around the area. It filled the needs of the farming and hunting community in this part of Louisiana. The nearest town was twenty miles away, but camps littered the area and every hunter and fisherman stopped here on their way to the marshes and the Gulf of Mexico.
Landry’s store had almost everything, hardware and plumbing supplies, guns and ammo, fishing supplies, gasoline, beer and soda, food, frozen, canned and freeze dried and. everyone knew Mr. and Mrs. Landry.
Business had fallen off in the past few months and as the rains continued farmers were unable to harvest their crops. Many of the farmers became sick and as agriculture went, so went the economy of the area. Many residents of the community worked on offshore rigs but the disease had taken its toll on them as well.
Initially, when the rains first commenced and people began to fall ill, there was a run on guns and ammo and survival supplies of all sorts. There were murmurings of Middle Eastern conspiracies, germ warfare, the Communists, Government and God’s wrath upon a sinful world.
The Landry’s had continued to keep the store open even in the face of increasing debt as more of a service to the community than anything else as it no longer turned any sort of profit. Now the establishment was rarely visited and stock sat on the shelves unsold, Mark had even heard Mr. Landry comment in the last week or so that maybe they should finally lock up for good.
Rain spattered on the hood of his slicker and water sloshed and splashed as he strode through puddles in the wet grass. As soon as he opened the back door he knew something was not right. Typically Mr. and Mrs. Landry had already arrived and were doing paper work and the smell of fresh coffee would be in the air. But today, the store was dark, cold and unnervingly quiet.
He made his way through the office, the leaden atmosphere outside and the gloominess and eerie quiet of the interior combined to raise the hair on the back of his neck. He stepped into the main part of the store.
“Hello is anybody here?” his high pitched voice echoed through the still building.
After a quick check of the inside of the store he walked to the front door and peered out through the glass but he did not see the Landry’s truck. He pressed his face against the pane so he could see down the road; but there was no sign of them.
He walked behind the counter and stood by one of the registers, he was unsure of what he should do; he had never opened the store by himself. He usually did not finish his work in the back until ten—thirty and had never been instructed on the procedures for opening as one of the owners was always there in the morning.
He opened the register but there was no money in the drawer. He walked into the office and opened the door under the desk. The safe was embedded in the concrete floor, it was closed and he didn’t have the combination.
He picked up the receiver on the phone and dialed the Landry’s number, there was no answer. He tried the number a second time with the same result. It was then that he found the sticky note attached to the computer monitor; it was from Mrs. Landry.
Dear Mark:
We have had an emergency and had to leave unexpectedly. I realize this is a bit sudden but hope you will understand. Please continue to watch the store but do not open up and keep the doors locked at all times. Continue to go in each day as if the store were open. Thank you Mark and we left you money which should cover your pay. It is in your slot.
Love,
The Landry’s
He pulled the envelope from his slot; it contained eight thousand dollars which was nearly five months pay for him. He had never seen that much money in one place and he counted it several times.
He stood gazing out the window at the end of the sales counter. The rain was coming down again, it tapped at the panes of glass and it collected in puddles and ran rivers in the ditches. The world was dying a slow rotting death; a rusting cancer was metastasizing over the earth, extinction by monsoon.
He decided it best to go about his usual routine for the day and by one in the afternoon he had finished with his duties. He entered the small break room and turned on the television. He put two dollars into the vending machine and retrieved a bag of chips and sat down to watch the news reports.
There were the usual pictures of hundreds of people in some city up north standing in the streets or lined up in front of some building, their black umbrellas resembling obsidian mushrooms which had sprouted from the moist ground. The pictures were coupled with stories about cities with no power, no water and very little food.
Other reports were from France and Italy, the scenes were a near mirror image of those from the earlier story. Then, a scientist was interviewed and he was saying something about the flu pandemic and how in his expert opinion that the worldwide outbreak of rainy weather and illness were not in any way connected to one another.
Then, the usual public service announcement urging citizens to get themselves and their families vaccinated against the flu virus came across the screen. He wondered how people in the north part of the country survived.
In his experience many of the problems he saw on the television had not manifested themselves in Louisiana. Electricity and water and gas, were still readily available. One could still fill their vehicle with gasoline, although there had been talk of rationing.
He finished his chips and turned off the TV and decided he would complete his day by dusting as many shelves as he could.
Chapter 2
Weeks turned into a month and still he had heard nothing from the Landry’s. He at first had continued living in the little house out back, but later decided he could better protect the store by moving into the room behind the guns and ammo.
The room was actually a large safe built with thick concrete walls and a steel door that could be locked from the inside. The stores overstock of guns and ammo was kept in there and was locked at night.
One night he was awakened by the sound of someone or something banging on the expanded metal cage which protected the front glass door from breakage. He got up and cautiously crept to the front of the store, there he concealed himself in the shadows and watched.
For a few minutes he neither heard nor saw anything out of the ordinary and he began to question whether he had actually heard anything at all. And then, out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and a man appeared roaming around outside underneath the security light and then another man stumbled by closer to the door.
Then, yet another man ambled up from out in the road and hammered his fists several times against the metal cage rattling the glass, the racket echoing throughout the building. The other man who was out by the light pole joined him, and together they began to tug on the expanded metal.
Mark thought could hear the screws protest as they gave way slightly. One of the men put his face close to the door and peered in, he seemed to have a large bleeding gash in his forehead, and his mouth also seemed to be covered in blood. Mark was not certain whether it was blood or merely mud as all color had been removed by the odd green glow cast by the sodium vapor security light.
He watched the men wandering about for a good forty-five minutes. Their movements were thick and unsteady and he wondered if they may be drunk or perhaps they had been in an automobile accident.
One minute they would stagger away from the door only to return to begin their knocking and wrenching anew. When they peered through the window he got the distinct impression that they could somehow see him standing in the shadows.
After a time the sky began to pale and night surrendered to the dawn and the men wandered away across the highway into an empty and wooded field. He had been so mesmerized and frightened by the scene which had unfolded before him that he had forgotten to call the Sherriff’s Office. He walked into the office and dialed 911.
A cruiser pulled in front of the store about a half hour later, Mark opened the glass door and stood in front of the locked security gate. When the Deputy got out of the cruiser he was coughing, it was a spasm which emanated from deep within his chest.
“How ya doing?” the Deputy asked, his voice was hoarse and Mark could detect a slight wheezing as he breathed.
“Pretty good just had some problems last night,” Mark answered.
“What kind of problems?”
“Well about an hour before daybreak some men came up here, they just wandered around outside here in front, they tried to get in several times but they couldn’t get through the security gate,” Mark said pointing at the screen.
“Men, what did they act like?”
“Well, it looked as if they may have been drunk, they stumbled around and they seemed disoriented. One of them had a bloody gash on his forehead and blood around his mouth; at least I think it may have been blood.
“Look could I come inside out of this rain? I don’t need to get any sicker than I already am.”
“Sure, sure I’m sorry come on in.” Mark said unlocking the gate.
Once inside the Deputy looked around and took a walk up the aisle toward the back of the store. “Where are the Landry’s?” he asked.
“I don’t know, I came in one morning and they weren’t here and I found a note saying they had an emergency or something, they told me to watch after the store but not to open up for business.”
“And who are you?”
“Mark Theriot, I work here.”
“I don’t recall seeing you before. Don’t you find it odd, I mean isn’t it a little strange that the Landry’s would just up and leave like that?”
“Yes sir, I did find it odd, I mean, I do, find it odd, but what am I supposed to do, I’m just doing what they asked of me.”
“Why are you just now calling us, I mean why have you not reported the Landry’s missing?”
“I guess it never crossed my mind officer, I, I don’t know I guess I just figured they would come back when they came back.”
Mark struggled for an answer to the deputy’s question but he was unable to come up with one sufficient even for himself, and now that the subject had been broached he questioned himself why he had not thought to report them missing, it was only just now that he realized that there may be a more sinister reason for their absence.
“Are you from around here son?”
“Yes sir, I’m from Trois Croix, my family still lives there.”
“Trois Croix, huh.”
“Yes sir.”
“Ok son, I’m going to walk around a little, do you mind?”
“No sir, not at all, I called you out to look into things.”
The Deputy scrutinized the store inside and out, he questioned Mark further about the Landry’s, Mark showed him the sticky note they had left and also the money.
“You mean the Landry’s up and left, leaving you in charge and also left you eight thousand dollars in cash?”
“Yes sir, that is what happened, I know it sounds suspicious but that is exactly the way it is.”
The deputy contemplated Mark’s words and body language for any indication the he may be hiding something.
“Ok son, the men who were here where did they go?” The Deputy asked after a small coughing fit
“Off into that field there, across the road, they just wandered away.” Mark said pointing out the front window.
The Deputy went outside and walked to the edge of field and looked around for a bit and then returned to the store. Mark stepped out to the driveway to meet him.
“Look I can’t see anybody out there, but here is the deal, have you not been into town lately?”
“No sir, I haven’t left the store for weeks.”
“Well, look I’m the only Deputy left on the force, me, I’m it,” the officer said pointing his finger at his chest.
“Four officers have died from the flu,” the deputy continued. “Sheriff Hargrave is in the hospital and he ain’t expected to pull through. Me, I don’t think it will be too long and I won’t be able to continue. I’ll try to help you out but take my advice son, weapon up, you have plenty of guns in there, and stay inside at night no matter what you see, hear me?”
Mark studied the Deputy’s face; the rain was coming down harder now and was pouring off the brim of the officer’s hat. The two men stood looking at one another and then the Deputy turned to leave.
“Remember what I said, things are not good here and those men, well, they aren’t men. Lock this place up tight and stay inside.” The Deputy said as he closed the door on his patrol car.
The cruiser pulled out of the drive and sped off down the glistening road. Mark watched as it disappeared from view, warily he eyed the field where the men had gone and quickly went back inside and locked the door.
He made his way to the hunting department and stood examining the guns through the locked cage in front of the sales counter. The pistols were locked in a glass case and the rifles were displayed on the opposite wall. He unlocked the cage and stepped around behind the sales counter and sat down.
He pulled a .45 semi-automatic pistol from the gun counter and held it, it was heavy but felt balanced in his hands and he lay it down on the glass counter. He searched through the case and came across a large five shot revolver, it was a dual ammo model chambered for either.410 gauge shells or .45 long colt cartridges.
He pushed the release and peered into the cylinder then seated it back into the frame with a loud click. He held the weapon at arm’s length and looked down the sight then laid the weapon on the glass with the .45.
He chose a black twelve gauge pump shotgun from the shelf and put it with the other two weapons. He then took some ammo from the shelves, two boxes for each firearm and placed them on the counter. Mark looked the guns over and being satisfied with his choices carefully loaded each one.
Later in the morning he decided to drive the forty miles into Trois Croix to see his parents and to get a better idea of how things were in town. He was not close to them and had left home when he was sixteen years old and had only visited a few times since.
For reasons that he could not quite comprehend he felt compelled to see them now, there seemed to be an odd sense of urgency which impelled him to go. He made his way to the garage and pulled up the overhead door and started the F-150 that he used when he went on deliveries.
On the road to Trois Croix he saw several abandoned vehicles that were either sitting on the shoulder of the highway or were off the road in the ditch, a few of them were burned. A furniture delivery truck had gone through a bridge guardrail and was half sunk in a canal.
The scene in town had changed drastically since the last time he had last been there, business after business was closed and boarded up and many of the homes were abandoned and sealed up as well.
He drove through town to his stepfather’s house, there were several vehicles parked in the yard. He knocked on the door and a woman he did not recognize answered.
“Yes, may I help you?”
Mark hesitated before he spoke, “Uhhhm, I’m here to see my Mother, Mrs. Babineaux.”
“Are you Mark?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well I’m Helen Mire, from the church, I came to help out, come on in Mark.”
Helen opened the screen, the spring on the door squealed in protest as it was stretched and the hinges squeaked and popped. Mark stepped into the front room.
“She’s back this way.”
Helen turned and walked toward his Mother’s bedroom. Mark did not move, she turned and motioned for him to follow. When he failed to respond she walked back over to him.
“What’s the matter Mark?”
“What’s wrong, why are you here? Is there something wrong with her?”
Helen looked up into Marks face, the two of them stood silent for a moment. Mark looked past her, back toward the bedroom.
“Has no one told you?”
Mark knew at that moment what the matter was and he did not need to hear anything further. He walked around Helen and went to his Mother’s bedroom door. Helen followed close behind and stopped him before he went inside.
“Son, I’m sorry I thought you knew, I thought that was why you were here. Your mother is very ill, and will most likely not make it through the night.”
Helen quietly pushed the room door open. His mother lay on her bed surrounded by her sister and brother and Mark’s stepfather and another man with a bible in his hand. The room was dimly lit by a small oil lamp which sat on the bedside table. He paused and Helen took him by the hand and slowly led him toward the bed.
His mother was unconscious and her breathing was shallow. He went to the side of the bed opposite his stepfather and stood by his aunt. She reached out for him and hugged him tightly. She whispered to him that his mother had asked her to tell him that she loved him very much and that she had always loved him.
Mark looked at his mother lying in bed and was shocked by her emaciated appearance which was made worse by the odd shadow cast by the lamp. She was extremely thin, almost skeletal, her eyes were sunken and were encircled by dark, almost black rings and her cheekbones were only thinly covered by flesh.