World Memorial (23 page)

"What are you saying?" said Dalton.

The man backed even further away.

"What are you saying, Maylee?" repeated Dalton, stepping close to her.

Maylee stared at the man. She considered it, considered knocking this man’s head open as she'd done to so many corpses.

She sighed and pointed the bat at him. "What's your name?"

The man looked at Maylee, blinking through the falling snow. "T-Timothy."

"Listen, Timothy,, if I find out you told your crazy-fuck friends about my brother, I
will
find you and I
will
finish you."

"Okay..."

"Do you understand me?" she yelled, jabbing his shoulder again. He cried out and fell back further.

"We gotta go
now
, Maylee!" yelled Dalton, pulling her back. Groans were coming from all sides.

Maylee turned and ran, Dalton right behind her.

They ducked around bales, through the thick and heavy snow. Maylee had lost all sense of location. She didn't know if they were even heading the right direction. She heard groans and wind. No more shouting men, though. There should have been one left. She tried to remember, tried to count off the men as she ran. There was one left, wasn't there?

She and Dalton ran in silence. Their panting breaths and crunching boots drowned out everything else.

Then, suddenly, they reached the end. They stumbled back out into the open field, skidding to a halt, the bales behind them.

"Shit," said Maylee. "We're exposed out here."

A rifle cocked.

"That you are," said a man from behind them.

Maylee froze, and Dalton locked into place next to her. Slowly, her boots snapping frozen twigs underneath, she turned. The last man was there, standing on the seat of the abandoned tractor. He trained his rifle at Maylee.

"The bat," said the man. "Drop it."

"But you have a gun," said Maylee.

The man shook the rifle. "Drop it anyway."

Maylee complied, her bat falling to the snow with a muffled thud. She cast quick glances around, looking for escape routes, but none presented themselves. There were corpses on the other side of the tractor, stumbling around. None seemed to have noticed them. The tractor on which the man stood was rusted and red, old, with many gears and levers Maylee didn't understand.

She took a step toward him. The man shook his rifle at her.

"Stop!" he said. "The Lord commands I do this!"

A coldness came over Maylee. She realized she wanted this. She wanted to be done. She took another step.

"Stop!" the man repeated.

"Dalton," said Maylee, her voice flat on the cold air, "run when he shoots me."

"What?"

"When he shoots me, he'll have to cock the rifle afterwards. Run when he does."

"Maylee..." Dalton started. She took another step.

"Stop!" yelled the man, the rifle rattling in his hands.

"Do it!" yelled Maylee, taking another step. "Do it! Kill me, fucker!"

"Shut up!" said the man, the rifle still shaking. His eyes fell on Dalton. "Wait a minute...."

"Not him!" yelled Maylee, loudly. Trying to pull the man's attention back to her. "Me! Do it!"

Fear began to cloud her. Her resolve was fading. Her chest began thumping.

"The boy," said the man, not taking his eyes from Dalton. "I recognize him!"

"No you don't!" yelled Maylee. "Shoot me!" She was sweating now, despite the cold. She took another step. The man was too focused on Dalton to notice.

"From the drawings!" yelled the man, now addressing Dalton. "You're one of the children!"

"No he's not!" yelled Maylee. The snow fell so thick it obscured her vision. The large wet flakes were cold against her hot cheeks. She took another step. She was very close now. The man remained focused on Dalton.

"You both need to come with me!" said the man, his voice filling with wonder. "Brother Joel will need to see you!"

More flashes hit Maylee. Dalton torn apart in that church. Dalton screaming as the flock tore into him. The blood streaming down, hot and stinking. Dalton's shrieks as they pulled out meat and viscera.

"Dalton!" she yelled. "Run!"

She lunged forward, grabbing randomly at levers on the tractor. She pulled and wrenched everything she could. The tractor lurched and rolled forward. Maylee realized she'd found the brake.

The man fell off the tractor, landing on his back, the gun skittering a few feet across the snow. The tractor rolled slowly across the field. Maylee snatched up her bat as the man climbed to his knees. Dalton ran forward to stand at her side.

"I said run!" said Maylee, brandishing the bat.

"Not without you!"

The man found his gun and scrambled to pick it up. Still on his knees, he pointed it back and forth between Maylee and Dalton. "The Lord has brought you both to us!"

More flashes. Dalton dead and pale, his guts strewn across the flock. They sang hymns as they tore into his organs with their clean, live teeth.

Maylee ran up to the man, knocking the rifle away with the bat. He screamed, blood flying from his hand and spattering across the snow.

"Stay the fuck away from my brother!"

She whipped the bat down into his stomach and he doubled over, blood spilling from his mouth. He rolled onto his back as she brought the bat over her head. He held up his hands. Blood pooled across his stomach and streamed down his hand.

"Maylee!" yelled Dalton.

Maylee stopped mid-swing, panting down at the man. Rage pounded in her ears. Flashes of the man eating Dalton. Flashes of Zach and how he had screamed.

The man stared up at her, wide-eyed and shaking. Maylee heard groaning and was only then aware that the corpses who had been behind the tractor had noticed them. They stumbled toward them. Maylee looked back to the man.

She spat down at him and shoved him with her foot. He slid across the slick snow and into the corpses. The corpses groaned, falling on him, tearing and ripping at his face. He screamed as they tore free strips of flesh and shoved them into their mouths. Two men, one young and one old, grabbed ahold of each arm and pulled greedily. The man screamed as first one, then the other arm came free. Blood shot out across the snow and the man shrieked. A little girl with no eyes shoved her face into his torso. He screamed as her head bobbed deeper into him, gurgled out a spike of blood, then fell silent. The corpses tore at him silently, chewing and moaning.

Maylee watched all of this, her chest pounding. She wanted to see it. She wanted to see all of it.

Finally, she was done. She turned to Dalton. He stared at her.

"We gotta move," she said.

Angie stepped to the wooden table in the farmhouse's kitchen. To one side stood a small door, seldom used, that led outside. To the other side stood a worn set of French doors that opened to the living room.

Her limp shook the old whiskey bottle in her right hand, sloshing the liquid inside.

"I get the good stuff?" Park asked, sitting at one of the table's chairs.

Angie snorted and twisted off the cap. "Don't get excited. It's just water. We reused the bottle." She poured water into a scratched, well-used but clean glass in front of Park.

"Well that's all manner of suck," said Park.

Angie poured some water for herself. She sat across from Park. "Give this crap a few more years and clean water will be more precious than booze."

Park picked up the glass. "Got that right." He took a drink and set it down. "So is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Is Dalton alive?"

"He is. He got bitten and didn't die. I couldn't believe it."

"Where is he now?"

"With the doctor. Him and the other kids. They're all immune like he is. Doctor's trying to isolate a cure or something."

Park took a sip of water. "The church fucks had a picture of Dalton. Bunch of other kids too. I assume the other kids you mentioned."

"What do they want?"

"Beats me. But they gave me the creeps. And I'd bet if they knew where this place was, they'd be right fucking here. Thought I should warn you."

Lilly walked in and frowned her little face at them. Her clothes were more torn and dirty than usual and her hair was a smeared mess.

"Lilly?" said Angie.

"Go fuck yourself," said Lilly, walking into the room.

"Now, Lilly," said Angie, giving a smirk across the table to Park. "You don't mean that."

"Fuck I don't." Lilly walked to the table and stood on her toes to look over the top. "Where's dinner?"

Angie pushed away from the table and stood. "You know it's not time yet. Why aren't you with Dr. Graham?"

"Fuck Dr. Graham," said Lilly, easing back down to her heels. "He's a dick snorter."

"Did any of the other kids sneak out with you?" said Angie, walking over to Lilly to inspect her. She looked unhurt.

"Ass if I know. I'm not their fucking mom."

Angie looked to Park. "Ignore her. She came here alone and has been through a lot..." She trailed off when she saw the bemused look on Park's face. "Well since you've found a kindred spirit, I'm going to take a quick look to see if any of the other kids are here."

Using her cane for support, Angie walked through the French doors. The living room was empty. The wind howled outside. If the kids had left, they would have come back here. She walked back to the kitchen.

Park was looking at Lilly, leaning back in his chair and smirking. "You go fuck yourself."

"You go fuck yourself," said Lilly, staring back up at him.

"
You
go fuck yourself."

"
You
go fuck
yourself
."

Lilly stopped, frowning.

Park's smirk grew. "Gonna have to try a lot harder than that to shock me, sprout."

Lilly smirked back at him. She left, seemingly satisfied, pushing past Angie on her way out.

"I gotta take a shit," she said as she disappeared from the room.

Angie watched her leave, then turned back to Park.

Park frowned as she walked back to her chair across from him. "You got working toilets?"

Angie shook her head as she sat. "Working chamber pots. Well, things we made into chamber pots."

Park took another sip of water. "Cute kid."

Angie chuckled. She looked at Park for a few seconds in silence. "So, how did you find this place?"

"You wouldn't believe me if you saw it happen."

Angie took a sip. "Try me."

"I dreamed about it. I dreamed it every night and I recognized the landscape."

Angie stared at him.

"See?" said Park. "That's some crazy shit right there."

Angie leaned in. "Park, for the past year all those children have been finding their way here. And they all say they dreamed about this place. The first one, I thought he'd just gotten lucky. A kid stumbling around in the snow dreams of a warm safe place. When he found this town, he assumed it was the place he'd dreamt of. But there's nearly a hundred of them now. And every single one says they dreamt it."

Park snorted. "Well fuck. Add me to the list of crazy, I guess."

"Some guards are saying you weren't alone when they first saw you."

"Frankly, I was hoping I was hallucinating her. Said her name was Beulah."

Angie frowned. "Beulah? The guards said she was young. ‘Beulah's’ a grandma name. Shit, a great-grandma name."

"She implied she was older than she looked."

"So where'd she go?"

Park shrugged. "She vanished. Like we were in a fucking movie or something. Just poof, gone."

"What was she doing with you?"

"Couldn't get rid of her. She followed me the whole way, taking all manner of crazy shit."

"Like what?"

"Most of it was too crazy to follow. But here's the thing you should know. She claims she's going to kill a bunch of kids. I assume she
also
means the ones you got here."

"And Dalton."

Park nodded. "And Dalton."

"How would she do it? And why?"

"Who the fuck knows? She seems to have people set up to do it. She wanted you out of the way because she knew you wouldn’t do it. She talked about it like she could arrange it all as easy as she could take a shit. And she seems to think doing it will get rid of the walking corpses. The crazy animals, too. Save the world."

“You think she has something to do with the church weirdoes?”

“Nope. Said they were different. Mind you, they want to kill these children too, just for a different reason.”

Angie leaned back in her seat, staring at Park. "You think she's just a crazy woman wandering around in the snow?"

Park smirked. "Oh, I have no doubt she's crazy. But I saw her do some shit, Angie. Some crazy, impossible shit. But fuck, maybe I've gone crazy too. Maybe two crazy people just wandered here and she scurried off before you showed up. I just don't know."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Park took a sip of water. "So you got the whole town-mamma-bear thing going on?"

Angie chuckled. "I guess. And you've got the whole scary mountain man thing going."

Park scratched his tangled beard. "Shaving and haircuts didn't come up on my itinerary."

Angie set her glass down and looked at Park. Several seconds passed. "I'm sorry, Parker."

"For what?"

"What happened at the zoo. I told you we'd save your daughters."

"Not your fault. You didn't eat Ella and you didn't shoot Lori."

"I know," said Angie. "I'm still sorry."

Park took another drink and set his glass down on the table. "You need to stop thinking you can control everything."

"People depended on me, Park.
You
depended on me."

"Don't flatter yourself. I tagged along for my own reasons."

Angie gave a wry smile, then let it fall. "When you left you said you were going to kill yourself."

"And I tried. Every fuckdamn day."

"What happened?"

"Beats me,” Park said. “It just never worked. The gun jammed, the rope broke, whatever. Something always went wrong."