Revelations - 02 (11 page)

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Authors: T. W. Brown

BOOK: Revelations - 02
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That night, he’d sat by his daughter’s side. She grew worse by the hour. Diedre had come in a few times, but Janie just stared at the ceiling, panting, sweating, and—Lord forgive her, but it was true—smelling worse. The last time Diedre looked in, she could see evidence of the dark, bloodshot symptom in her daughter’s eyes.

Just before sunrise, a scream jolted Diedre awake. She’d dozed off curled up in Bill’s favorite chair. There was a struggle upstairs, coming from Janie’s room. She raced up the stairs and could hear sobbing and what sounded like begging. She burst in the door to her daughter’s room and was immediately halted by the stench.

Bill was in a corner. Janie was in front of him, her back to the door, but Diedre knew what she would see even before her daughter turned at the sudden sound. The sickly discoloration. The white film, that would dampen what had been such dazzlingly pretty hazel eyes, shot full of black, squiggly lines. And blood. Bill was holding his left arm just above the wrist. In the low light of the lantern it looked like rivulets of black running to the elbow and dripping on the carpet.

Diedre had been struck by the most peculiar thought. She’d never actually seen Bill frightened. He was always so confident and even a bit brash. But in that moment, he was a sad, hurt, scared little boy. Janie had turned at the initial sound of the door being flung open, but now she returned her attention to her daddy. She reached out, but he easily pushed her back. Again and again this was repeated.
He can’t do it
, Diedre realized.

She ran to their bedroom and found the gun. She had never fired one, but how hard could it be? She checked for bullets and then returned to Janie’s room. Her husband, easily weighing twice that of her daughter, still stood in the corner. He continued to push Janie back each time she closed and tried to grab him. Diedre heard the strange moans and mewling noises of her daughter above the mournful sobs of her husband.

No
, she reminded herself, just like Bill had said when James had turned into one of those things,
that isn’t Janie anymore.
Taking a deep breath, she walked up quickly, shoved the barrel of the gun against the temple of the thing that was no longer Janie, and pulled the trigger.


No!
” Bill had screamed.

Diedre had left them alone. He was hunched over, hugging the lifeless body of his little girl and rocking back and forth. Shoving the pistol in the pocket of her jeans, which were fitting much looser on her hips lately thank-you-very-much, she went down to the garage for the shovels. The sun was just rising.

Together, she and Bill had wrapped Janie’s head in a pink, frilly pillowcase. Then, they’d dressed her in her favorite dress. They went outside and dug the grave without a word. As they dug, they could hear
them
. Several of those creatures had come from nowhere and were gathering at the six-foot high wooden fence that surrounded the backyard. More were gathered out front up against the ornate four-foot high brick fence that surrounded the front of the property. It had missing bricks in the pattern of a “B” and “D” on either side of the gate that opened to their extra-wide driveway.

At some point, Bill had stopped digging Janie’s grave. He’d started on another one a few feet away. Still, once Janie’s was done, he’d climbed out of the other, scooped his daughter up in his arms, and laid her to rest. Diedre went and sat at the picnic table on the deck and watched as Bill covered their daughter. She’d looked into his eyes as he’d stood there, down in their daughter’s grave, and knew two things. One, he wanted to be the one to shovel the dirt back into that hole. And two, he was infected.

Bill’s eyes had actually been one of her favorite features. They could be serious and intense. They could sparkle with laughter. And they could look into her soul back when he used to concern himself every day with how she felt. At some point, he’d stopped seeing her with those eyes. Now, sitting on their picnic table, she realized that that made her sad. At that instant, she’d realized that she missed that look.

As the sun climbed high in the sky, Bill dug. Diedre continued to sit quietly at the picnic table. She could hear those things getting louder outside. It must’ve been the gunshots that brought them. Noise did seem to carry more these days. And, since they’d seen no more than a handful of those things up until now, the conclusion seemed logical. Until Janie, Bill had killed every single one with the same branch he’d killed James with. He said there was no need to waste bullets.

Diedre blinked. Where had Bill gone. At some point he’d finished digging. His shovel was jutting out of the pile of earth he’d excavated from the third grave.

“Bill?” Diedre yelled. The things on the other side of the fence moaned in response.

A hand came up from the ground. It was dirty. It was sickly pale, even through the coating of grime. It was Bill’s. Diedre picked up the gun from where she’d sat it on the picnic table. A second hand emerged. She walked down the steps towards the open hole in her backyard. A face rose, blank of recognition or emotion. Diedre brought the handgun up and gripped it with both hands. That face didn’t look anything like
her
Bill. Its mouth opened in a raspy groan. Those weren’t Bill’s eyes

Diedre fired.

The bullet tore a hole through the thing’s throat, causing it to rock back a little. The liquid drizzled slightly from the blackened hole. It didn’t even notice.

Diedre fired again.

The bullet entered the center of the forehead and exploded out the back. The thing that wasn’t Bill toppled back and disappeared from sight. She waited a few minutes, then walked over to the grave and looked in.

Taking the shovel Bill had used, she nudged the arms down beside the body and mostly straightened the legs. Then, Diedre filled the hole. Finally, she placed a makeshift cross at the head of the grave and went inside.

More of those things had gathered.
Where had they all come from?
Diedre wondered. The big house seemed so empty now. Each time she looked outside, there were more of
them
. She was lonely.

With a sigh, Diedre walked downstairs. She emerged onto the front porch as the sun slowly sank behind the distant mountains. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? And now, just that suddenly, she was alone. Diedre hated being along.

Slowly, she walked to the large gate. There were so many. All of them reaching desperately for her. For a moment, she stood there looking at the horror staring back at her. The last sliver of sun dipped away from sight. A beautiful pink and purple glow tinged the couple of very fluffy looking clouds. There was a noticeably sudden change in temperature that made the skin on her exposed arms turn to gooseflesh. She took a look back at her great big dream house, struck by the realization that it meant nothing.

Diedre reached up and unlocked the gate.

 


 

“So,” Chad looked down from the desk he’d stood on in order to let everybody see and hear him, “they left last night. Most to search for their friends. Their families.”

“What are we supposed to do now?” an angry voice shouted over the din of nervous chatter.
“I don’t know.” Chad glanced down at Donna and his daughter, Ronni.
“What’ll we do for food?” another voice shouted.
“I don’t know.” Chad looked back out at the dirty, gaunt, wide-eyed faces.
“Who put you in charge?” Kimberly’s voice was unmistakable.
“Captain Moore,” Chad replied.
“Well he abandoned us.” Kimberly pushed forward in the crowd. “I’d say that means that anything he said don’t mean shit.”

A few voices murmured their agreement or approval. Chad glanced down at Donna. She was getting a look in her eyes that he knew was trouble. The last thing he wanted today was trouble.

“That’s right,” Chad said, holding his hands up. The stunned look on Kimberly’s face was almost as comical as the confused look on Donna’s. “Which is why I am letting everybody know that I will be leaving this place tomorrow morning. Anybody who wants to come is welcome.”

“Where will we go?” several voices shouted over one another.

“I don’t know,” Chad yelled above the din and raised his hands again to try and quiet the crowd. “What I do know is that we are in the heart of a fairly populated area and more of those things come every day. I’m for heading to the boonies.”

That was all he had to say. Chad jumped off the desk and put his arms around Ronni and Donna. He began to shepherd them through the crowd. Not surprisingly, Kimberly had jumped up on the desk. She was now trying to convince everybody to just stay put, wait for the proper authorities.

“Daddy?” Ronni said once they reached their little cubicle. It was the first time she’d spoken to him directly since he’d been forced to kill little Amber Henson. “Where are we gonna go?”

“Someplace with fewer of those
things
,” Chad answered. He wanted desperately to put his arms around his daughter and hug her tight.

“Are you sure you should’ve invited all comers to join us?” Donna asked.

“Safety in numbers,” Chad answered, not totally convinced by his own words.

“Well,” Donna crossed her arms and cast an angry look over her shoulder at the sound of Kimberly’s voice rising above a sudden outburst from the crowd, “at least we can be rid of that bitch.”

“And away from the smell,” Ronni made a show of wrinkling her nose at the stench of the gloomy gymnasium.

“Chad!” Brett Simmons burst through the gymnasium doors from outside where Kimberly’s rally seemed to be growing spirited. “We’ve got a problem!”

“So handle it yourselves,” Donna snapped. “If you weren’t listening, we’re leaving. Chad doesn’t want to be in charge of anything to—”

“We’ve got a breech!” Brett cut her off. “At least a couple dozen are inside the fence!”

“Daddy?” Ronni turned to Chad with eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Risking the possible denial he stepped up and wrapped his arms around his daughter. He noticed her stiffen slightly, but at least she didn’t push him away. “You and your mom gather up only the essentials, and don’t forget a few bottles of water. Put those in my bag. Be ready when I get back.”

A scream from outside caused everybody to turn.

“Hurry!” Chad gave his daughter one last squeeze and ran for the door.

 


 

Cary switched off the radio. He’d been listening to the chatter from what sure sounded like an organized group. They’d rolled into a town, Heath, this morning. He’d perked up when he heard the mention of someplace that he could point to on a map. He’d hoped that this group would welcome him.

Then he’d listened to their raid on the poor survivors that had suffered the misfortune of meeting this band of barbarians. Orders like “Torch the building and smoke ‘em out!” and “Just grab the women, none of those men are worth the waste of food.” It got a bit interesting when somebody had apparently lobbed a grenade into one of their trucks.

He only wished that those folks had more firepower. While there had certainly been some casualties suffered by the raiders, the outcome had still been disastrous for the poor people of Heath. Cary considered his choices for a while. Eventually his curiosity won out over his common sense.

Unfortunately, his gas gauge informed him that there were more pressing matters. He pulled up beside a pair of vehicles that looked to have been forcibly moved off the road. There were a handful of undead trundling in his direction. Nothing too worrisome. He had to remind himself that it was entirely possible that he’d gotten lucky. There was no reason to tempt fate and allow himself to be bitten again. Not to mention the whole pain factor.

He went to work siphoning gas. He’d actually gotten quite proficient at that the past couple days. He really loved his Highway Patrol car. There was simply no reason to abandon it if he wasn’t pressed for time. Eventually he was on the move once more. A sign read: Heath 4 mi. State Route 79 was surprisingly clear. An empty RV-Park to the right caught his eye as he passed. There’d been a big fire very recently. One of the abandoned vehicle husks still smoked.

 

 

5

Geeks, Logic, and Lunch

 

Heather stood in front of the full-length mirror swapping out dresses that she would hold up to herself one after another. They were a little long for her taste, but she was tired of all the long sleeves, leather gloves, boots, and other assorted apparel that Kevin insisted they wear anytime they stepped outside. Of course, he had a really good reason. But for just one evening, she wanted to feel like a girl again. Deciding on blue, she hurried back downstairs.

All day, she’d kept the two men out of the kitchen. She was preparing dinner. And while the menu was limited, she’d found some things that allowed for a touch of creativity. The big surprise was inside the woodstove, sitting on a metal rack. She looked out towards the barn a few times and caught them standing beside the beat up old truck, sniffing the air.

It’d been a long night last night. Those terrible men hadn’t left until after dark. The smell of burning kept drifting through every once in a while. Fortunately, the wind was blowing the smoke—and spreading fire—away from their location. Still, that terrible smell would occasionally overwhelm the yummy aroma that was drifting out the open kitchen window.

Checking the table for probably the tenth time, Heather made it a point not to look down at the dark stain on the floor. She hadn’t actually seen what had been there, but Kevin and Mike had both been bothered. They hadn’t let her near the area until they’d covered everything with blankets. And when they’d cleaned the area, they’d made her stay out. Like she hadn’t seen tons of bad stuff already. After making minute adjustments in the spacing that not even she could detect, everything was
still
straight and evenly spaced.

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