The Reawakening (The Living Dead Trilogy, Book 1) (13 page)

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Rick said. He got up and stared out the window at the bird-blackened sky. “We should know more by tomorrow morning. Maybe everything will settle down and the military will come up here to help us out. But tonight we need to get some rest. Tomorrow promises to be a busy day.”

“I’ll probably never sleep again after what I’ve been through,” I said.

“Forget that noise because I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight,” Dar said. “And come tomorrow, I’ll be ready to rock-and-roll.”

“Good for you, kiddo,” Rick said. He looked at me with a seriousness that concerned me. “This is war, Thom, and you have to view it as such. Even soldiers need their rest.”

“We’re in a war against the dead,” Dar said. “And somehow I feel I’ve been reborn in life with a clear mission to kill. I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.”

Chapter 9

I
TRIED TO SLEEP BUT COULDN’T.
I tossed and turned and wept like a baby, feeling extreme guilt about the sexual assault that Dar had endured back in that parking lot. The sound of her crying out in pain from that brutal assault echoed in my ears and wouldn’t stop. I blamed myself. I blamed those angry men hell-bent on killing and willful destruction. I blamed the horrific situation we found ourselves in. But mostly I blamed myself, rehashing that terrible scene over and over in my addled mind. What could I have done differently? Had I done all I could to keep Dar safe?

My sleep was also hampered by fear of the unknown. Terrible dreams visited me throughout the night. My brain raced wildly, and the pain in my ribs and shoulder left me writhing in agony. Dar slept soundly in the other bedroom, her loud snoring evidence of this fact. Rick remained downstairs, keeping an eye on everything. We’d decided it would be smart to take turns keeping watch just in case those things decided to attack.

After two hours I’d had enough. I got up and peered through the window, but could see nothing outside in the dark. I tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of milk, and then made my way into the moonlit dining room. I peeked first into the living room and saw Gunner and his family sleeping soundly on the couch and along the floor. Rick had given Delia and her daughter a boatload of painkillers earlier in the evening, which had knocked them out cold.

I went back into the dining room and sat at the large oak table. The tranquility of the early morning felt peaceful after the chaos of the previous day. But where was my brother? I half expected him to be here, keeping an eye on things, pacing back and forth. The sound of a door opening somewhere inside the house startled me. I reached for the rifle sitting on the table, looked over, and saw a faint glow coming from the living room. A shadowy figure began to emerge. I aimed the rifle in the general direction, my heart galloping in my chest, and watched as Rick came out from the shadows and into the dining room.

“Jesus, Rick, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Put that thing down before you kill somebody,” Rick whispered.

“I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was one of those things.”

“The first thing I did when I moved into this house was completely retro-fit it and make it more secure. It would take a whole army of the dead a lot of time and effort to break inside this place. What are you doing up so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Had some bad nightmares so I figured I’d come down here and keep you company.”

“What about Dar?”

“She’s been out cold since her head hit the pillow. She’s proven to be a lot more resilient than I thought.”

“That girl of yours is a real tiger. Didn’t think she had it in her, especially after she tried to off herself. I think I like this version far better than the moodier, depressed one.”

“I’ve never seen her this animated. Maybe she’s still in a state of shock or suffering from post-traumatic stress.”

“No, you’re over-analyzing the girl. She’s a natural-born fighter, Thom, you just didn’t realize it because of all the finishing schools, recitals and ballet lessons you forced her to attend. Every society needs warriors.”

“I might as well tell you this now, Rick, not that it makes any difference, but that suicide attempt wasn’t an isolated event. She’s been seeing a therapist for depression and bi-polar disorder. We also learned that she’s been cutting herself.”

“Christ, I didn’t know it was that serious. I suspected something was out of whack, but never realized it was that bad,” Rick said, sitting down next to me.

“It’s been pretty rough on us the last few years. There were times we weren’t even sure she was going to make it. Days went by where she wouldn’t even get out of bed or talk to anyone. That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to come up here and let her hang out with you and Susan for a couple of days.”

“Yeah, she and Susan were good buddies. Things would have been a lot better under normal circumstances.” He looked away. “I miss Susan terribly.”

“We all do, Rick, especially Dar.”

“Dar will survive this thing and become stronger for it. Her problem is that her brain functions on a different level than everyone else.” He tapped his temple. “That’s why all these quacks prescribe drugs for every ailment. This culture we live in leaves no outlet for the primitive aspects of our natures. Everyone is expected to go to college and get a degree, and major in art history, modern literature or women’s studies.”

“That’s the crazy thing about this whole situation. As bad as it’s been, I’ve never seen her so alive and passionate about something as she is right now. Isn’t that the damnedest thing? Took bringing back the dead to bring my troubled girl back to life.”

“Greatness often rises to the occasion,” he said, standing. “Okay, brother, it’s time I show you what I’ve got downstairs. Might as well do it now while everyone is asleep. Follow me and be very quiet.”

I followed Rick into the living room and through the door he’d emerged from. We took a steep set of stairs down to the basement. I held onto the rail for support, hobbling down one step at a time. The exposed foundation was composed of various-sized rocks held together with mortar. Once downstairs, we walked through a dusty old room until Rick led me to another door. He opened it, and what I saw inside surprised me. It was new, sanitized and scrubbed. He’d outfitted it with state-of-the-art computers and sleek microscopes, and had turned it into some kind of a high-tech lab. Bright lights lit up the room, and it looked sterile and pristine. On the benches sat sophisticated measuring equipment. Technical books on DNA, chemistry, and microbiology filled the shelves. I had no idea what all this was for, but considering that Rick had once been one of the top genetic scientists in the world, I figured the lab had something to do with his field of expertise.

“What do you think?” he said, looking around proudly.

“Nice, if you’re creating Frankenstein’s bride.”

“Just because I quit academia doesn’t mean that I quit doing research and studying biology and genetics. I just hated being stuck in that ivory tower. It was incredibly stifling to my intellectual development. Did you know that Albert Einstein did his finest work while working at a patent office?”

“So what’s your point, Rick?”

He opened a small box on the floor that looked like a mini-refrigerator. A whorl of smoke gushed out of it. He reached inside and pulled out a package and held it up to me.

“I’ve taken samples from every one of these dead creatures. I’m going to analyze their DNA to see if I can find any clues to this puzzling situation. That computer over there is worth over twenty thousand dollars. It can sequence millions of DNA strands, as fast as any machine in the world. If I can manage to isolate the strand of DNA responsible for this event, then I might also be able to find a way to shut it down.”

“But why would you think it’s a strand of DNA? It could be a virus, a bacterial agent or any number of other causes.”

“It’s just a hunch I have. That’s why I’ve been examining these tissue samples for a clue. I’ve started entering the data into the machine. Hopefully, it will produce some results in the near future.”

“Was that your master plan? To conduct genetic research once you moved up here?”

“You could say that. I’ve discovered an amazing number of things since I built this lab, Thom, things that will someday revolutionize the food chain and eliminate the need for pesticides, manure, and polluted runoff into our streams and oceans.” He sat back in the chair and stared at me. “I’ve managed to genetically alter certain strains of my own crops and make them hardier, stronger, better able to withstand the vicissitudes of Maine’s climate.”

“Jesus, Rick. Don’t you think that’s a dangerous thing to do? To mess with the food chain like that?”

“DNA sequencing is the greatest discovery in the history of science and has been going on for years, brother. The promise it holds for mankind is remarkable. It will revolutionize everything from fighting lethal diseases like cancer and heart disease to making citizens better able to resist killer viruses and bacteria. The enormity of this discovery will extend to making our animals and food better equipped for survival. The end result of all this research will be to help end world hunger, and consequently wars, famine and human misery.”

A scream suddenly erupted on the first floor. We bolted up the stairs and emerged into the darkened living room. I saw Gunner leaning over the couch and attending to Emily, who was writhing in agony, her face dripping with sweat. I flipped the switch, and the room lit up. Gunner’s wife, on the opposite couch, stared lethargically over at her afflicted daughter. On the floor below her slept the baby, Amber, stretched out on a blanket, with her arms raised above her head. Rick took a thermometer out of the desk drawer and checked Emily’s temperature.

“It’s too high, Gunner. Go get some Tylenol, and bring it over. Thom, go fill the bath with ice water.”

I ran to the bathroom, started the water, and shuffled back and forth with a steel bowl filled with ice. When I returned to the living room, I saw Rick force-feeding the girl cups of pink, syrupy Tylenol. Sweat poured down the girl’s face, and her eyes seemed to roll back in her bruised sockets. Delia appeared so sapped of energy that she couldn’t even get off the couch. Rick removed a hypodermic needle from his case and shot the girl full of anti-viral medication.

“Put her in the tub, Gunner, and hurry. Take all of her clothes off and keep wiping her down with a wet cloth.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gunner nodded, picked up Emily, and ran with her into the bathroom. Rick followed behind him. The two men had barely left the room when Gunner’s wife started to go into a convulsive fit. At first I assumed she was sobbing, but upon closer examination, I noticed that she had entered into a state of shock. Her entire body shook with tremors. Sweat coursed down her forehead, and her face was now as red as a tomato. I could almost feel the waves of heat radiating off her body. I shouted out for Rick, and he rushed back into the living room.

“What now?”

“It’s Delia. She’s started convulsing.”

“Christ, this is just great. Get some more ice and apply it to her forehead, then go upstairs and fill the bathtub with cold water. Let’s hope these are the only two victims because I only have two bathrooms.”

“Right.”

I ran upstairs, turned on the cold water, and then hustled back down to fill it with ice cubes. I filled the bowl with the remaining ice, ran back upstairs, and dumped it into the cold water. Pain hammered my body. With each breath, it felt as if someone was stabbing me in the lungs with a screwdriver. When I felt I could move again, I limped gingerly down the stairs and into the living room. Rick lifted the syringe needle skyward, squirted some of the medication out of the tip, and then plunged it into Delia’s exposed abdomen.

“She’s in much worse shape than I thought,” Rick said.

“What’s the matter?”

“It came on fast. I think all her organs are shutting down because of the high fever.”

He reached under Delia’s body, lifted her up, and carried her up the stairs and into the bathroom. He placed her in the tub, clothes and all. Removing a blue towel from the cabinet, he dampened it and started wiping it across her body. It was happening all over again.

“Look, it’s working,” I said. “The tremors stopped, and her breathing is slowing down.”

“She’s dying, Thom.” He felt her pulse. “Her breathing is becoming shallower, and her heart is weakening.”

Rick ripped open her shirt. He clasped his hands together over the top of her bra and began CPR. He did this for the next ten minutes before he finally stopped and pulled his raw hands out of the icy water. He turned in exhaustion and stared at me, shaking his head.

“It’s no use.”

“She’s dead?”

“What do you think?”

“There’s not much time, Rick. She’s going to change into one of those things very shortly.”

“Damn! What are we going to tell Gunner?”

He reached down into the icy bathwater and lifted her body out. Water dripped over the floor and onto his shoes. I followed behind him as he carried her down the stairs. At the bottom, he made a beeline towards the basement.

“Where you taking her?”

“Down into my lab, where her husband and kids won’t see her change into one of those nasty things. Better to let them remember her the way she was rather than what she’ll turn into.”