The Reawakening (The Living Dead Trilogy, Book 1) (22 page)

Thorn continued to avail himself of Rick’s supply of alcohol, which he kept stored in the barn, and which he had to bring back to the house in order to thaw. Thorn was a sloppy drunk, and when Rick found out that his stash was being looted, he put a lock on the barn door and controlled all access to the beer, wine and spirits. At first Thorn complained about getting shut off, but when he realized that this was how it was going to be, he stopped drinking altogether and embraced a more militant attitude toward his health. He took up exercising with me in the morning. When we finished, he would go outside and shovel snow for hours on end. Exhausted, I would stare out the window and watch him. Some days he tossed snow for hours, eventually staggering inside, his clothes drenched in sweat. Thorn’s body underwent a noticeable transformation during this period. Where before he was tall and lean, now his biceps began to bulge, and his lats formed a perfect V that tapered down to a thin waist. In short, he resembled an Olympic swimmer.

This was how we spent the winter. Did I mention that there was much crying? We cried all the time. After a while we stopped being ashamed about crying in front of each other. The kids cried loud and often. Kate and I often leaned on each other’s shoulders and wept in long, sorrowful sessions. Rick did it in the privacy of his basement when he thought no one was listening. But I would sometimes wander downstairs, where I could hear his hyperventilating gasps. He grieved for his wife and the future they had lost, and he hoped to find part of her remains come spring so that he could spread her ashes on her favorite part of the farm. Surprisingly, Thorn cried as much as anyone, though his crying jags were usually quick and violent, and then followed by an act of bravado that was a veiled attempt to disguise his vulnerability.

The only one who didn’t cry, or who I never witnessed crying, was Dar. She moved inward while the rest of us hung out our emotions for all to see. It was almost as if she were using this crisis to gain strength and vitality from the cruelness bearing down upon us. Her self-confidence soared. Where before she harbored many fears and insecurities, the outbreak appeared to give Dar a reason to live. Everything from her past fell away as easily as a snake shed its skin. Her history got erased—only the present existed. She became a secular zealot and wanted nothing more than to save the world by killing the dead.

Thorn tattooed the words BORN TO KILL across her back. “I was born to kill fuckers,” she could often be heard saying. She said it so often and with such passion that it soon became second nature to us to refer to the dead as fuckers. The term became as much a part of our vocabulary as anything else in the wintry days that we were holed up in the farmhouse. I wanted them to disappear from the face of the earth so that the world could revert to its normal state and we could return home and reunite with our families. The resumption of normalcy was my ultimate goal. I wanted to sit behind my desk and write novels. But Dar wanted nothing to do with her previous life. She had her own plans for the future, and I had a sinking feeling that they didn’t include me.

“It’s never going to be the same once this situation dies down,” Rick said to me one night, shaking his head. “In fact, my belief is that it’s all going to get worse—a lot worse—before it gets any better.”

“You’re such a pessimist.”

“Not a pessimist, Thom, a realist. A scientist who looks at things objectively and without bias.” He laughed. “Think that big fat bank account of yours is going to be waiting for you when you return to Boston? You can forget about that nest egg.”

“Once the government gets control over this situation, the financial system will return to normal, and everything will revert to the way it was.”

“Ha! That’s even more farfetched than your belief in an afterlife. You’re truly naïve if you believe that, Thom. The almighty dollar is gone, a relic in the footnotes of monetary history. Only food, water and fuel will be currency in the new order of things.”

“Why do you always have to be in competition with me, Rick? Just because I’ve made more money than you?”

“It’s not about competition or money. The truth is that you wagered all your money on a losing pony. But the good news, brother, is that you’re alive and well with someone who wagered correctly.”

It killed me inside to admit it, but my brother was right. Rick had made the correct call in moving up here. He’d gone back to the land where food, shelter and water reigned supreme. My millions of dollars were worthless, other than fuel for the fireplace or wiping the shit out of my ass. But I had faith on my side, and I spoke directly to my creator. Faith was the currency that kept me spiritually and mentally afloat.

And then the snow started to melt.

And I knew we were all screwed.

Chapter 15

S
PRING BEGAN NEAR THE END OF
April. We woke up to the sound of water dripping off the roof and into the melting snow. Ice dams cracked like thunder along the gutters and shingles. The sounds all resonated with the song of spring. Even the sun’s rays began to feel warmer and more inviting. But behind it all lay a sense of dread.

I slept very little by the time spring arrived. What sleep I did get was filled with terrible dreams and nightmarish visions of those creatures breaking inside the house and reaching for me. My brain whirred constantly and never seemed to let up. It felt as if it was operating independently from my will, manifesting an innate desire to detach from this terrible reality. Although I knew that this was my mind’s attempt at preserving itself, in the end, this prolonged state of disassociation was causing me great, irreversible harm.

We’d manage to keep most of the fuckers at bay throughout the winter and early spring. Occasionally a few slipped past the formidable snow barriers, but they were easily dispatched. Dar typically did most of the killing. She wanted nothing more than to put a bullet through their brains, and shooting just one never satisfied her insatiable need to kill. The glint in her eye made us all leery, and we kept our distance from her. Otherwise, she kept a low profile in the house, knowing full well that her time was soon to come.

I made my way downstairs one morning and saw Kate sitting at the table and staring out of the window. Kate usually got up before anyone else and set the table with cold cereal, powdered milk and re-warmed coffee brewed the previous night. Gunner and the kids got up next. Rick, Thorn and Dar typically slept in until mid-morning. Rick stayed up until the early hours of the morning, working in his lab and then writing in his journal, and usually operating on only a few hours of sleep. I would often see him sitting at the dining room table in the morning, writing copious notes in his journal.

I stood next to Kate, who stared numbly out at the melting, white landscape. The sun shone brilliantly in the sky. The birds gathered up in the bare branches of the elms and maples and began to take to the air in droves. The constant
drip drip drip
off the roof seemed never-ending. Shimmering sheets of ice reflected the sun’s rays and radiated outward in every direction. The massive wall of snow and ice encircling the driveway began to slowly diminish with each passing day. Kate turned and glanced at me with a look of concern.

“I’m scared, Thom. I thought I’d never say this, but I don’t want spring to come.”

“Spring has always been my favorite time of year, when the plants would poke up out of the ground and the snow would give way to budding leaves and rivers of mud. A time when everything reawakens.”

“I used to love spring as well. God, I never thought I’d hear myself say it, but I wish it would stay winter all year long.”

“Don’t you have any family members to meet up with after this situation is over?”

“Apart from an estranged brother in Houston, I don’t have any family to speak of. I moved to Maine less than a year ago.”

“Why?”

She turned, crossed her arms, and stared out the window. “It’s going to get worse. Those things will soon be coming out of the woodwork. I used to love spring, but I despise it now. They’ll be waiting for the snow to melt so they can come for us.”

“Kate,” I said, turning her around and gripping her arms. “We’re the lucky ones. Look at all we have. We’re still alive and well.”

“Lucky? Ha!”

“We’ve got food, water and ammunition. We’ve got a roof over our heads. Those dead things can’t last forever. The government will come any day now and rescue us from this hell.”

“The
government
?” she retorted, snickering. “If you believe the government’s going to save us then I’ve got a winning lottery ticket to sell you.”

“No, you’re wrong. I believe in our government. You watch and see, they’ll send in the military and help us out of this mess.”

“Wake up, Thom. This isn’t one of your dreamy novels with a happy ending. The government’s not going to help us. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Besides, how long do you think we can last like this?” She turned away from me.

“Rick thinks we can hold out until the end of spring.”

“Once the snow melts, there will be thousands of them descending upon us, from above and below, heaven and hell. And even supposing we do survive, do you really think this happy little family will last? You’ll be heading back to Boston, assuming that your wife and son are still alive.”

“It’s no assumption, Kate. They are alive! I just know it.”

“Okay, Thom, let’s assume for the moment they are. Then what? God knows where Thorn and Dar will go. Your brother will stay here as long as he can, holed up in his basement all day, which will leave me with Gunner and his two kids. And that poor guy is ready for the rubber room. He’ll be lucky if he survives this ordeal with all his marbles intact. Which leaves me and his two kids with no means of support and nowhere to go.”

“You can come to Boston and live with us until you get back on your feet.”

“And be a pity case? No, thanks. That’s even assuming you find them. You’ve seen what’s going on out there. Do you really think that it’s going to be any better in Boston? The only thing that’s saved us is the fact that winter has kept those things at bay. What’s going to happen when it warms up and the dead are able to wander freely and spread their disease? It’s all coming to an end, Thom.”

I wanted to slap her. Her hurtful words had cut me to the core. I had no other option than to believe that my wife and son were still alive and waiting for me to return home. Screw her. She could stay here and rot for all I cared. I turned away, sat at the table, and poured myself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry, Thom. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she said, sitting down next to me. “I was being a total bitch. You were right. Your wife and son are alive and waiting for you down in Boston. I’m sure they’re just fine.” Tears fell from her eyes.

“What are you keeping from me, Kate? You’ve told me practically nothing about yourself the entire time we’ve been here.”

“No, you’re right. I’ve kept my personal history to myself for a reason. But I do appreciate everything you and your brother have done for me.”

“Why won’t you open up and tell me something about yourself? Anything. I’m your friend, Kate. What the hell are you afraid of?”

“Believe it or not, Thom,” she said, punching her chest over her heart, “what’s in here is a lot more frightening than what’s out there.”

She stared at me for what seemed like a very long time. Then she explained what had led her to move to this stark northern territory. Her husband and children were dead, and now she was alone in the world. After she finished telling me her story, I sat there in a daze, unable to believe what I’d just heard. Their deaths seemed so senseless and cruel, but I had no time to let her words sink in. Four creatures had managed to bypass the mounds of snow and stumble onto the plowed driveway. They approached the dining room window just over Kate’s shoulder, their expressions grim and unchanging. One had a missing arm, and another had half its face chewed off. Their clothes were ripped and shredded, and stiff from the cold. Each one held a frozen chunk of ice in their hands as if planning to toss it through the window. The one with the chewed-up face held the ice block up over its head as he stumbled forward. Upon reaching the window, he smashed it down against the pane of glass. The noise exploded in our ears, and yet the glass did not break. The others followed suit. The glass quivered and shook but held strong. Kate collapsed into my arms, sobbing.

“See, Thom, I told you they’d be back, and here they are, sooner than expected.”

“Take it easy, Kate. We’ll get rid of them.”

Everyone heard the crashing sound and ran into the dining room. We watched in shock as they continued to pound away at the glass with the chunks of ice, which eventually broke off into small fragments until they were harmless snowballs. Their eyes locked on us in a frightening manner. Their gaze seemed both focused and faraway, but it was obvious we were the object of their desire. Rick didn’t waste any time. He grabbed one of the rifles and tossed one to Thorn and then one to Dar. Dar ran out into the driveway and began to bait them to turn around and chase her. I understood what she was doing. The creatures were too close to the house; one misplaced bullet had the potential to shatter the windows or penetrate through the siding, making us all vulnerable to the cold and future attacks.

Two of them took the bait and went after Dar. Rick ran out, raised the rifle, and put a bullet into their heads, stopping them dead in their tracks. The other two lumbered alongside the house. Thorn fired next and put them both down. Fortunately, none of the bullets ended up hitting the windows. Smeared across the glass, however, was a splattering of gelatinous brain matter in the shape of an abstract painting. After the creatures had been vanquished, the three of them ran back inside, slamming the door shut behind them.