Sanctuary (11 page)

Dan had only backtracked a few feet when he heard noises from across the property. Past the oak tree, several creatures had emerged from the adjacent field. The men sprung from their chairs, whooping and hollering.

"Here we go, Marvin! Fresh kill!"

"Is it my turn or yours?"

"I think it's yours, bro."

The men pointed their rifles, jeering and laughing. The infected resembled floating specters in the tall grass, the lower halves of their bodies obscured. When they staggered into the open, they locked eyes with the men, pawing the air. The frontrunner was a woman in a floral print dress. She groaned as she advanced. Marvin—the man with the ponytail—squeezed off a round from his rifle, striking her in the kneecap. The woman-creature toppled and fell. She continued clambering toward him, dragging herself on her wounded leg.
 

"Don't go far, girly!" Marvin shouted with glee. "You're a pretty one. I'm going to enjoy cutting you up!"

The other man pointed his rifle at the next creature. He whistled as he adjusted his aim.

"Let's see…arm? Leg? Shoulder? Whaddya think, Marvin?"

"Whatever, Jed. Just don't kill it! We might not get any more for a while."

"I won't, I won't."

Jed fired a bullet into the thing's ankle, watching it pitch sideways onto the grass. He laughed, mimicking its movements, doing an exaggerated fall of his own. Then he ran forward and kicked it in the head. The thing crawled like a squished ant refusing to die. He withdrew a knife from his belt and shanked its leg, pinning it to the ground.

The last creature was a man in overalls with short, wiry hair. The creature ambled over the injured bodies of its companions, oblivious to its fate. Marvin turned his rifle around and struck the creature in the face with the butt-end, laughing as it dropped to the ground.
 

"What do you think, Mom?" Marvin called over to the infected woman tied to the tree. "We're getting pretty good at this, huh? Don't worry, your turn is coming soon enough."

The infected woman clawed the air, straining against the rope around her waist. If she understood her sons' words, she made no acknowledgement of them.
 

"I don't think she gives a shit." Jed guffawed.

After incapacitating the three creatures, the men returned to the fire. They retrieved pitchforks and used them to pin the creatures to the ground. Then they took out knives and began carving them up.

Dan swallowed the bile in his throat. He crawled backwards in the grass, intent on getting back to his companions.

When Dan returned, Meredith, John, and Tim were waiting for him, wide-eyed and nervous. Ernie whined in Meredith's lap.

"Is everything okay?" Meredith hissed. "We heard gunshots. We were about to come after you."

"Everything's fine," Dan said.
 

He narrated what he'd seen, sparing the details for Quinn. In the distance, he could still see a thin trickle of smoke coming from behind the house, and he heard the faint voices of the men. The sky was deep orange. Sunset was approaching.

"I was thinking about trying to get to their truck," he said. "But I'm not sure it's a good idea. Those men are dangerous. We should keep going. Maybe we'll have better luck at the next house."

Meredith glanced at the sky. "I hate to say it, Dan, but I don't think we're going to get another chance. This road is pretty desolate. I don't think we'll run into another house for a while."

"How far until the next property?"

"A few miles? There aren't many on this road, from what I remember. We're in the middle of the country."

Dan followed her gaze to the sky, his brow furrowing with concern. He recalled the creatures they'd seen drifting silently through the fields. If they encountered one or more of them in the dark, the outcome wouldn't be good.
 

"What makes you think the keys will be in the truck?" John asked.

"This isn't Detroit, John. Lots of people leave their keys in their trucks in the country." Meredith gave a half smile.

Tim piped up. "Listen, I have a plan. I think I can sneak in there and distract those men if someone wants to check the truck for keys. What do you think?"

"I think if you have a plan, I'd love to hear it," Dan said.

Keller smiled as he wove through the grass, the blades caressing his jeans. He glanced behind him, catching sight of his companions' silhouettes as they crossed the street. For the first time in over a day, he was free and alone and
alive
. Each hour within the group was torture. He longed for the ability to express his desires, to break free of the boring social etiquette and the meaningless conversations.
 

He'd been stifled for too long already.

For most of his life, Keller had controlled his urges, striving to fit within society's framework. His days were spent working meaningless jobs, smiling and kowtowing to his superiors. His nights were his freedom. After a long shift as a groundskeeper or a maintenance worker, he spent the twilight hours hunting, searching for people alone in the park or couples too caught up in each other to notice him. Each time he killed, the cleanup took longer than the encounter, and each one had only incited his hunger and rage.

But not anymore. The agents had opened the world up to his desires.
 

Now that the infection had hit, there was no cleanup, no one to answer to. The only person controlling his urges was Keller. It was time to unleash his desires.
 

Keller crawled to the edge of grass and surveyed the men's backyard. Dan's description was accurate. The two brothers, Marvin and Jed, were cutting up the infected, separating limbs from bodies, laughing as they worked. It was a ritual he knew well, having done it multiple times himself. Keller wondered if the men had partaken in violence prior to the infection, or if they'd contained themselves until recently.
 

Maybe he'd ask before killing them.

The men were in the middle of the yard, just past the fire. Diagonally to Keller's right was the shed; fifteen feet to the left of it was the oak tree. The infected woman strained against her bindings, shrieking at the gruesome scene. Keller snuck through the grass, keeping an eye on the men, gaining confidence as he crawled. Even if the men saw him, he'd take care of them. He didn't even need Dan's gun. The man had offered it, but Keller had insisted he keep it to protect his family.

Keller planned on taking it later, anyway.

He reached the edge of the grass. He was ten feet from the shed. Keller glanced at the men, confirming they were distracted, and then sprinted to the small building. When he reached it, he pressed his back against the wall and waited. The fire crackled; the men laughed.
 

The infected woman moaned.
 

No one heard him. He peered around the side of the shed, confirming he was safe, and then worked his way around the shed. When he'd reached the far side, he peered around at the oak tree.

The sun had slid from view, tinting the yard orange. Jed stoked the fire with an infected limb, then returned to his perch next to Marvin.
 

Keller sprinted for the oak tree, his heart battering against his ribcage. As he made his way across the lawn, his body felt like it was on automatic, his brain running a program. It was the feeling he always felt before he killed, the feeling of maximizing his potential. The feeling of being
alive
. He stole a glance down the driveway and past the pickup, thinking he might see his companions crouched in the grass across the street, but they were too far away. When he reached the oak tree, he clung to the back of it. The infected woman hissed from the other side.

Using his knife, Keller cut her loose.

He peered around the trunk, watching her stagger across the lawn. He smiled as she found her targets. The sadistic celebration of the brothers was cut short, replaced by their surprised, terrified screams.
 

"Holy shit! Mom?!"

"How did she—?"

Keller ducked out of sight, letting chaos ensue. When he peered back around the tree, he saw the woman shoving fistfuls of Jed into her mouth. Marvin had been wounded. He stumbled toward her, his arm bleeding, and gored her in the back.

Keller broke from the tree, covering the gap between him and Marvin, clutching his knife. In seconds he'd pulled Marvin away from his mother, and he thrust the knife into the man's side. Keller felt the wet spurt of blood on his hand, but he continued stabbing, listening to Marvin gasp for breath. The knife felt like a third hand as he weaved it in and out of the man's side and stomach. When Marvin finally stopped struggling, Keller threw him to the ground.
 

The infected woman continued to feast on Jed, oblivious to the knife protruding from her back where Marvin had stabbed her. Keller bent down and wiped his hands on the grass. His pulse was pounding, but he felt good—better than he had in quite some time. He rode the waves of adrenaline and bliss, listening to the slap of the old woman's gums as she finished eating her son. When she'd completed her meal, she turned to look at him, her black eyes reflecting the glow of the firelight.

Keller stared at the infected woman for a moment, trying to read her expression. Her mouth hung open, dripping gore. Perhaps she was grateful for the moment of freedom.

Without another thought, Keller advanced and plunged the blade into her forehead, then removed it, watching her topple face-first into the mess she'd made.

After parting ways with Tim, the others trekked across the street, Ernie in tow. They dipped into the field at the other side of the road and stole toward the house. The thought of Tim out there alone, armed with only a knife, made Dan nervous. He envisioned the heads of the infected that Marvin and Jed had hung on the clothesline, then imagined them driving pitchforks into the wounded creatures they'd captured. If the brothers caught sight of Tim, he was certain Tim would face a similar fate.
 

He'd warned Tim not to take any chances. He'd even argued with the man about going, but Tim had insisted on executing the plan. Over the course of a day, the man had proven himself a trustworthy ally, and Dan was grateful he'd accompanied them. He just hoped Tim would be quiet and careful.

The building loomed closer. The house was no more attractive from the front than the rear; the windows were cracked, the paint was peeling, the porch bannisters were broken.
 

When they reached the property line, Dan, Quinn, John, and Meredith peered across the street and down the driveway. The pickup was unguarded. By the sounds of it, the brothers were still engaged in their gory business. However, both the men and the fire were out of view. Meredith crouched next to Dan, watching. Behind them, John and Quinn perused the fields, ensuring no creatures approached their location.
 

"Do you see Tim?" Meredith whispered.

Dan shook his head. "No."

"I hope he's okay."

"Me too. He promised he'd get out of there at the first sign of trouble."

They kept their eyes glued to the pickup, waiting for a sign from their companion. An occasional burst of laughter pierced the air. Dan clutched his pistol with both hands. He heard Meredith sucking in one nervous breath after another. Moments later, a shadow darted out from behind the shed.
Tim,
Dan thought
.
Tim raced across the yard and out of sight. Dan waited for a reaction from the men, some sign that Tim had completed his mission, but there was nothing.

Then screams erupted. Dan heard the infected woman groan, the unmistakable sounds of men in pain.

He scrambled to his feet, scanning the driveway. Had he missed Tim's signal? As soon as Dan saw the man, he was to run to the truck and check for keys.

"Stay down!" he hissed to his companions.

Dan started across the street, heart stammering. He stared at the slice of backyard that was visible from the road, but saw only the outline of the shed and the flicker of the distant, dwindling fire. He was halfway across the street when a figure raced toward him. It was Tim. Tim was out of breath, carrying two rifles.

"Tim!" he hissed. "You all right?"

"I'm fine!"

"What happened?"

"They're dead. Their mother took care of them. But I got the keys. They're in my pocket. We should hurry; I heard more activity behind the shed. There are more infected coming."

Dan turned and called for his companions. "Come on!"

Meredith, John, Quinn, and Ernie burst from the field, headed for the driveway. Tim opened the pickup and handed Dan the keys. Tim's hands were covered in blood.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dan asked, his breath heaving.
 

"I'm fine," Tim said. "I had to dig for the keys. Marvin had them in his pocket. It wasn't pretty."

Dan surveyed the interior of the truck. The vehicle was a two-seater, with little room behind the seats. The vehicle was filled with bottles and trash. He ushered Meredith and Quinn and Ernie inside and gave Meredith the keys. Then he closed the door. He motioned for Tim and John to jump in the truck bed, then did so himself.