The Living Dead (Book 1): Contagion (21 page)
These young men were by far the healthiest seeming of the Aidophedo. Even so, several of them evidenced deformities of the spine and lower limbs and some had split upper palates. Having deposited their game with the women they proceeded to recline in the shade and loll about resting. They regarded me with some curiosity and I took the opportunity to introduce myself and explain I wished to speak to them concerning the Most High God, Jesu Christ. At the mention of that most holy name, one of their number quickly sat upright and made known to me he had heard of my God before. It seems this young man, Dia, had unsuccessfully courted a young woman from the Bakatla tribe and she knew of Our Saviour and had shared her knowledge with Dia. I was then invited to sit with the warriors and I answered many of their eager questions. My heart warmed by their interest, I felt indeed that I had already made a path into their own hearts. Little did I suspect the trials that would soon follow.
I was welcomed now by most of the tribesman and had managed to spend several days with them. On the evening of the third day, I recounted the story of the death and marvelous resurrection of my Lord and let it be clear that all who believed and were baptized would live again. That evening, more than half the tribe were baptized and partook of the sacred feast of divine body and blood, arousing much anger in their okomfu. He raged first at me, then turned his wrath upon those baptized. So fierce was his anger that they fled into the surrounding jungle and did not return until the next morning.
Tragedy now struck a family of my fledgling Christians. During the night spent hiding from the okomfu, Dia, whom I have mentioned before, trod upon a poisonous snake, was bitten and died by noon the following day. His sorrowing parents brought his swollen body to me, requesting that I call upon God to restore him to life at once. Their hopeful faces fell when I gently explained that I could not; Dia would awake to new life at Christ’s return and no man, not even the angels in heaven knew when that hour would come. His mother’s wails pierced my heart.
Seeing an opportunity to regain his hold on his people, the okomfu stomped over thunderously, kicking dust as he came and grinning fiercely. He told Dia’s parents that he would invoke the god, the snake god of the tribe, and restore Dia to life, showing once and for all whose god was more powerful. To my distress, the couple followed him eagerly a short way from the village into the surrounding jungle. I was shocked to see two gigantic, carved stone haunches, so tall their points of termination were lost in the jungle canopy. Clearly these people live in the ruins of a once, more advanced civilization of mighty builders. Carved snakes twined on and around the giant limbs, somehow looking suppliant and menacing at the same time. An impaled goat, flyblown and stinking, sagged from a carved serpentine pole between the huge, cloven hooves. Dia’s parents gently placed his body on the raised wooden trough before this abominable shrine. The day was overcast yet hot and a scorching wind swept in, stirring up choking clouds of dust. The holy man tore the carved pole from the goat, kicking the rotted flesh out of the way, plunged the sharp base of the stick into Dia’s body then sank to his knees before this horrible tableaux and began a deep, guttural chant.
The skies darkened throughout the afternoon yet the heat continued to increase. Many of the Aidophedo kept vigil along with Dia’s stricken parents. The okomfu chanted without surcease as sweat poured in rivulets down his body. The villagers (my new Christians!) joined him and the sound grew in volume and intensity.
The winds now increased; leaves and small twigs blew from the trees, striking us and mingling with the dirt and grit already in the air. A distant cracking and boom, as of gigantic trees falling to the ground, sounded in the dark recesses of the surrounding jungle. The villagers flung themselves face down on the ground, crying out and pulling at their hair. I alone remained upright, struggling against the maelstrom. Trees on the south side of the clearing groaned then snapped off at the base of the trunk and fell to the ground, revealing an avenue of downed trees behind them. The winds stopped and the villagers ceased chanting as well.
Heralded by a cracking, scraping sound, a massive snakelike creature crawled forth from the torn foliage, leaving a sinuous path at least six feet wide on the ground. Covered in glistening red scales interspersed with obsidian bands, it reached the young man’s body, raised its enormous, oddly flattened head and sank foot long fangs into the boy‘s abdomen. The creature’s red eyes sparked with evil intelligence and I believed (and still believe) that on that sweltering evening I met for the first time in my life with a demon. The okomfu, with his foolish pride and desire to triumph over Jesu, had somehow called up a true imp of Satan.
The holy man backed away from the monstrous form but began to chant again. He commanded the creature to restore life to his servant Dia and suddenly the previously supine body twitched and jerked around the impaling pole. The snake continued to pump venom into the body and yellow fluid oozed out from the young man’s nostrils, eyes, ears, and mouth. The okomfu caught this liquid in his cupped hands and drank deeply before catching more and offering it to the now kneeling villagers. All drank. The creature withdrew his fangs and slithered back into the jungle.
Transfixed by horror and grief, I saw Dia’s eyes open. His father pulled the pole from his body and helped his son to his feet, supporting him on the slow walk back to their mud hut. The okomfu leered triumphantly at me. The young man stared vacuously ahead, expressing no interest in his surroundings or family and followed his father docilely, squatting on the ground outside the hut. Flies soon covered him and he made no move to brush them away.
I stayed with the Aidophedo for three additional days, trying to undo the damage to their newfound faith. For a while Dia was the focus of all interest. Other than making a low moaning he never recovered his powers of speech and his poor body decayed rapidly in the punishing heat. On the morning of the third day, he was gone from his customary spot by the hut. That afternoon his father returned from a jungle errand of which he would not speak. Dia was seen no more.
I have failed utterly in my mission to these lost lambs. They want no part of any return to life brought about by any god. This devilish mockery of the resurrection has destroyed their newfound faith and all of my efforts to undo this damage have been to no avail. My own faith is sinfully shaken by the perturbing events in this dark jungle and I fear I have failed my Lord as well. God will judge my efforts and intentions at my own resurrection. I hope I will not be found culpable that day.
“So that’s where this all started? It came from some African demon? Does that mean we’re supposed to find some African voodoo guy to make this all go away?” Charles sounded disgusted.
“You’re missing the point. The friar said he recognized it as coming from
the
Devil and that it was a mockery of the real resurrection which is called the ‘word made flesh‘. I think he’s saying a spiritual, evil being created a distorted, bastardized return to life to mock what God did for us with his Son. This evil has been ‘made flesh‘. It‘s obviously real; we can take it down with weapons and maybe soon with medicines. It doesn’t matter how it got started; it’s part of our world now.” Charles and Ian stared at her and she shrugged. “You know I went to parochial school for two years in high school. And I do believe in God. I just don’t talk about it.”
Ian laid the documents on the table. The oil lamps flickered casting irregular leaping shadows on their faces and Virginia thought that both men looked older with features somehow more chiseled than just a few days before. Daniel’s eyelids drooped with exhaustion. She opened the fridge looking for something else to eat. Inside the unit was cool but not cold. She pulled out one of Carolyn’s homemade cheesecakes and as she did a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. She brought it over to the table.
Darling boy,
I have been thinking of the moment I first saw you, red faced and hungry, when you were less than a minute old. The red face went away but the hunger has been a consistent trait so I’m leaving this note in the fridge. I felt sure you would find it quickest there.
I’ve been bitten. Careless of me, I know, but Mrs. Costas needed help caring for Wilfred and I couldn’t say no. I didn’t know he was infected and in all fairness, I don’t think she did either. They don’t have a television you know and they both are somewhat deaf. She thought she was dealing with a case of flu. Enough said on that and no one is to blame.
Time is limited. As much as it pains me, I left the children with Mrs. Costas and came back here. Wilfred of course, is dead, really dead, and Mrs. Costas is happy to care for the children. It is too dangerous for me to be around them now. I left the Rover there behind the house and I want you to take it and get somewhere safe, if such a place exists anymore. I hope you find your Virginia safe and well and bring her back with you. Yes, I still call her your Virginia. You know how I feel about divorce and I still hope the two of you will come to your senses.
I will do what is needed in a timely fashion. I plan to use the garage so you can get me out easily. If you are able, please bury me beside your father.
I love you all,
Mom
“Ian, who are the Costas and where do they live? How far away?”
Ian ignored her and ran to the garage entry door down the hallway. Virginia checked her coat pocket and found her flashlight. She followed him and together they found Carolyn behind the water heater, her jaw and most of the top of her skull gone. Blood and brain matter covered the wall behind her. She was barefoot and it looked like she had used her toe to pull the shotgun trigger. Her hands were still locked around the barrel. Ian buried his head in his hands briefly then left. Virginia searched until she found a tarp and draped it gently over the body. Back inside, Ian already had his coat on. He grabbed his shotgun.
“What are you doing? Those things haven’t gone away and it’s too dark to take them down.”
“Virginia, we passed the Costas’ house on the way in. We walked right by it.”
“Good, so it isn’t far. I’m sure Mrs. Costas is reliable. I trust Carolyn’s judgment. We’ll go as soon as day breaks and get all of them. Do you think Mrs. Costas will want to-”
“We can’t wait that long. Remember the dead woman on the porch of that farmhouse?”
“Yes?”
“That was Mrs. Costas.”
Chapter 22
Time and again, foul things attacked me…
Beowulf
“Ready and go on one, two, three!” Ian opened the door and fired at the closest shadowy shape he saw. The creature went down. Virginia came next, closed the door firmly behind her and stepped directly into the rotted chest cavity of the felled infected. It was still moving; Ian had missed the head. Pulled off balance she crashed into the stucco wall of the house, scraping her cheek raw. Her foot was stuck in the ribs or sternum and she couldn’t get it out. The soldier moaned and grabbed her leg, the biting mouth trying to get closer. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark but still she hesitated to shoot it so close to her feet. Ian was nowhere in sight but another infected already staggered her way, drawn by the moaning dead thing on the ground and the noise she made. She let it get close then took it down with a shot to the face. The front door opened.
“You’re less than two minutes into this rescue and you’ve got your foot stuck in a zombie? “ Charles decapitated the dead soldier with the ax then stomped the head. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with Daniel and let me go? “ They had argued about this earlier.
“Shut up. It could have happened to anyone.“ She extricated her foot. Gross. She felt wetness on her sock. A bone must have ripped the leather. “I’ll be back in less than an hour. Thanks, by the way. “
“Don’t mention it. “ He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“Charles, don’t think that I…“ She trailed off; he had already closed the door.
The cold wind stung her lacerated cheek and she wished she had borrowed one of her mother-in-law’s scarves. She ran, trying not to make sound but crunching through patches of snow and ice anyway. A moving figure walked ahead and she ran faster, not knowing if it was Ian or an infected. Either way, she needed to go in that direction. She gripped her shotgun tighter.
There were more infected stumbling after her but they were slow. They would pursue unless she shot them or some other sound distracted them. That unnaturally acute sense of hearing was one of their greatest advantages. She wondered if the moaning was a sort of echo location system because the dark didn’t slow them down. She caught up with Ian. He glanced at her but didn’t speak. She grieved for Carolyn but it had to be much worse for him. He had lost both parents, in gruesome deaths, in less than a week. She knew he wasn’t ready to talk about them but she needed to hear his voice, something,
anything
other than the noise of the infected.
“The troop transport ships that China sent to the west coast. There must have been some speculation about why they sent them there.”
“Yeah, there was a lot of speculation but I think it’s obvious. The U.S. is in total disarray. We have a barely functioning federal government and very few functioning local governments. Our military is the best in the world but let’s face it, what did a lot of soldiers do? They left to find family and loved ones if at all possible. The National Guard is the same way. Our communication lines are hit or miss now. China saw an opportunity and took it. They want world domination by any means possible. For years they’ve been pursuing it through trade and by stealing our military secrets and technology. But this is a golden opportunity to just walk in and help themselves. Think of all the computer and aerospace tech facilities in California and Washington state abandoned and open for plunder. How could they resist?”
“I hope they find the whole place bristling with soldiers when they get there. Was anyone able to get word to the military bases out there that the Chinese were coming?”
“Warnings and orders were sent but… who knows what will happen? Think of the population numbers out there. Those Chinese troops will have enough trouble just getting through the hordes of infected.”
More dark figures stumbled out of the surrounding woodland. Virginia shot twice and took down one of them. Others fell over the body but were soon back up and in pursuit. Ian stopped in the road and took out the two closest. They were now near the farm gate that enclosed the Costas‘ front pasture.
“I didn’t think they would be on us this fast!” Ian exclaimed. They stood back to back and fired at the dead encircling them.
Virginia leveled the gun at a clean cut young man, ripped open from throat to stomach. Intermittently visible ribs flashed white as torn skin flapped in the wind. He moved in on her, mouth open and teeth gnashing hungrily. She shot, exploding his head into black chunks that flew back into the open maw of the older man behind him who chewed them briefly before spitting them out. She shot again, missed the head but took off the older man’s one remaining arm, knocking him to the ground where he floundered and writhed in the snow, unable to get back up.
“When did you learn to shoot? You’re not that bad.”
“Good grief Ian, it’s hard to miss something four feet away. Don‘t patronize me. I’ve made mistakes in the past but I‘m not incompetent.”
“I didn’t mean to sound patronizing. I’ve had a lot of time to think about us and I know I’ve said some harsh-”
“Not now. I can’t do this with you now. Let’s just get our children, ok?”
Ian didn’t respond. They were at the gate and they quickly opened and closed it behind them. The frustrated infected lunged against it but it held. For now.
Mrs. Costas was not in sight. Virginia looked at the black silhouette of the farmhouse
that held everything dear in the world to her. She prayed silently and desperately to find them alive. They mounted the steps of the porch, kicking Mrs. Costas’ leg to one side. Where was she? The screen door stood partially open, bottom hinges broken. They moved silently inside and stood, eyes adjusting to the darker interior.
The house smelled of rotten meat. The cold wind blowing in the open door couldn’t dispel it. In the central hallway the staircase beckoned them up to a deeper darkness and Virginia was already on the third step when Ian stopped her.
“Listen.”
They heard a scratching sound but couldn’t tell where it came from.
“I’m going up. You know Anna loves to hide under the bed. If they’re here and were frightened that’s the first place she would go.”
“I think we should clear this floor first. We’ll have to come back down with them and we want to know what we’re bringing them into. We still don’t know where Mrs. Costas is. Let’s make sure there won’t be any surprises.”
She reluctantly agreed. They checked the kitchen first, guns at the ready. It was spotless and undisturbed and through the window they saw the Rover parked in back where Carolyn said it would be. Virginia opened the pantry door.
“Look at this. There are enough canned goods in here to last for six months or better. I’ll bet you there’re even more in the basement. We should try to take some of this with us back to your parents’ house.”
A set of keys lay on the scrubbed pine table. Ian recognized them as Carolyn’s and snatched them up. There was a living room with the ceiling partially caved in, one small bedroom, and a mud porch on this floor. All were empty. The door to the basement was firmly closed and they heard nothing down there so they left it alone for now.
They mounted the steps, guns drawn. Virginia thought she heard the scratching sound. She heard it again at the top of the stairs. She shined her flashlight into the hall.
In front of the door at the end of the hallway someone had placed a tall armoire, and then pushed a heavy chest in front of that, effectively barricading the room. Beside the door, clawing and scratching to get in, was Mrs. Costas, head now dangling in front from her snapped neck. She had managed to shift the armoire slightly away from the door. Horrified, Virginia saw the door open a few inches and a small hand on the doorknob.
“Stop! Don’t try to come out baby; just stay where you are.”
“Mom?” Virginia thought this was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
“Yes. Dad’s here too. Are you alright? Is Greg with you?”
“He’s asleep but Mom?”
“What darling?”
“We’re really thirsty.”
“Close the door Anna. We have to move some things to get you out.”
“Ok Dad.”
Mrs. Costas turned away from the door and dragged herself in their direction while they backed away. Gray, matted strands of hair hung lank around her face; her head, still attached by a thin strip of skin, rolled on her shoulders, mouth making chewing motions in gruesome anticipation. She was surprisingly fast.
“Try to draw her away. I don’t want to shoot toward the door.” Ian shouldered his gun.
Virginia ran down the hallway, stomped the wooden floor hard to get her attention and Mrs. Costas obliged her, spinning around and moving in her direction. Ian shouted at her to get out of the way and she stepped back into one of the bedrooms. He fired, severing the head. It tumbled through the air toward Virginia who put her arms up in front of her face to deflect it. The still moving mouth clamped down hard on her wrist. She screamed and beat it against the wall to make it let go. When it finally dropped off, Virginia sank to her knees and watched Ian smash it to a greasy spot on the floor. Enraged, he kicked the crumpled body to one side.
Ian took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, so sorry. Oh baby, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
She looked at her wrist in disbelief. The tooth marks were faint, not even that deep but they didn’t have to be. One bite, that was all it took. Anna called to them through the door and they heard Greg crying.
“Looks like Mrs. Costas knew she was sick and barricaded this room against herself the best she could. “ She stood up and pushed the chest to the side. Together she and Ian moved the armoire and opened the bedroom door.
No matter the circumstances, it was pure joy to hold them again. Their arms around her neck, to hear their voices-she had wanted this, hungered for this. They were a little dirty, clothes rumpled and hair tangled, but they were alive. She never wanted to let them go. But she would have to soon. Anna kept glancing at the headless body down the hall.
“Grammy’s friend put us in the bedroom and told us to take a nap. But then she put her
furniture in front of the door and we couldn’t get out.”
“Get out!” Greg echoed happily, rubbing his eyes.
“Where’s Grammy?” Anna asked.
“She got sick but we’re going back to her house as soon as we can. There are some of the sick people outside so we have to be really careful and quiet. Can you do that?” Ian’s voice shook a little and he cleared his throat.
“Yes!” Greg put his arms around his father’s neck and hung on. Virginia smiled at the image they presented; same blue eyes, same cowlick on the crown of their heads.
Finding a sheet, she ripped a strip away, wrapped her wrist then sat down and gathered Greg and Anna into her lap.
“Mom, I thought you weren‘t coming.” Anna’s tone was full of reproach.
“I was on my way darling. There was a lot more snow at home than here but I came as fast as I could. Don’t I always come to pick up my favorite daughter?”
In response, Anna threw her arms around her mother and began to sob. Virginia held them close, rocking both back and forth. She already felt a cold ache spreading up her arm. Oh please God, she thought, not this fast.
They went downstairs. There were fewer infected thronging the gate and none had broken through yet. Virginia insisted they take as much canned food as possible and the children began loading cans and jars into boxes, which she and Ian took out to the Rover. Ian looked askance at her when she loaded the front passenger seat with boxes.
“I’m not going back with you. It’ll be easier and safer if I just stay here. I‘m keeping the pistol.”