SEQUEL TO LONESOME

 

One Month After The Darkness – Salvation

 

How many times have I been down this road and never noticed this place? It’s not exactly hidden, but I also haven’t been through here in years. I pull the pickup on to the shoulder, kicking up long undisturbed dust as I squeeze the truck to a stop. I step out, grabbing my 9mm and the keys before closing and locking the door. You can never be too safe; things just aren’t the way they used to be.

Walking the fifty feet to the gate I see no tire tracks or footprints and the gate is closed with a lock. “Good sign.” I say to myself, stopping in the middle of the drive to survey my surroundings. A tingling feeling shoots up my spine as I realize this just might be the place, salvation. My attention is taken by the chatter from the hand held CB stuck on my belt.

 

“…safety and security. Attention…Attention, you are not alo…” The chatter fades away just as quickly as it came, the small handheld antenna trying as it might to grab the skip shooting through the air. It’s been the same transmission for days now, on a steady loop from a town another two or three hundred miles away. It would be a useless attempt to try and get there as the highway is clogged with abandoned vehicles and you won’t catch my ass trying to hoof it. I sigh, not a defeated sigh but one of hope as I turn back towards the pickup. “I’m gonna need a pry bar.”

 

The lock sadly didn’t take long to break, and I was inching the little S10 slowly down the drive a few minutes later, going back about a football length from the road, tall pine lining both sides with a stone boarder completing the look. Out of nowhere, a dated white wash house comes into view, a gorgeous home like something out of magazine; wooden shutters, wrap around porch and a slate roof. The whole nine yards is just sitting in front of me with not a single soul in sight.

 

The truck stops with a slight squeak in the middle of the massive courtyard, “Brake dust.”  I think to myself and let out a curse. Things like this, no matter how small can get me killed; I have to be more vigilant. I get out, leaving the keys in the ignition this time and grabbing the 9mm and my purloined M4. Clearing a building is some scary shit, the first time I had tried; I nearly had my head chewed off by some crazed bitch still in a bridesmaids dress, the short lived bride laying at her feet. Now that I think of it though, she was probably pretty hot at one time.

 

I climb up onto the cab of the truck, my feet in the middle of the dent I’ve added in the last month to the S10’s features. I pull out my cell phone, the screen is cracked and I can barely make out the song track as I touch the play button. The tiny speaker comes to life with scripture, voiced by a long past hero of mine, Johnny Cash.

 

“And I heard as it were, the noise of thunder. One of the four beasts sang, come and see and I saw. And it road, a white horse.”

 

The Man in Black’s voice moves soothingly as the front door to the house bursts open. Two men and woman come running out, I turn and squat; the sheet metal under my feet groaning to the change in weight, M4 rested against my shoulder.

 

There’s a man, going round, taking names.

 

Two rounds burst from the M4, taking a hunk of shoulder and the lower half of a jaw as they imbed themselves in the porch beyond.

 

And he decides who to free, and who to blame.

 

Three more rounds take half a breast and the side of the woman’s face; the third round being too wide.

 

Every body won’t be treated all the same.

 

I drop the M4 with a clatter as the third stumbles towards me the 9mm emerging clumsily from behind my belt.

 

There will be a golden ladder reaching down.

 

He falls against the door of the pickup; two rounds taking most of his skull to Hades.

 

When the man comes around.

 

I reach down and pause the music, the phone dangling from a leash on my belt and silence once again governs the courtyard. I stick the handgun back behind me and pick up the rifle, as I do this a scream erupts from behind me. I swing around to see a garage off to the right of the courtyard, a younger man running full on in my direction. I take note of the wrench in his hand as pin strikes primer and two consecutive bursts emerge from the rifle. The young man falls, face first onto the compacted gravel drive, making a slight crater. “Damn, I’m getting better.” I say aloud.

 

I knelt on that roof for about an hour, music on shuffle until my feet and legs started to tingle. I didn’t dare go through the rest of the house until morning though, it was getting late and staying alive is always harder at night. I jump off the roof as dusk begins to fall; putting the M4 on the dash and 9mm back in the open glove box as I climb into the sheet metal cocoon. It was nice there in the courtyard, secluded, open sky and my new home looking at me through the windows. I give another sigh of relief as I stretched out on the bench seat, sleep always comes difficult but by this time tomorrow, I will hopefully be sleeping in a bed. That is, if they haven’t been occupied for the last four weeks. I plug the phone in the charger and slowly nod off to sleep, dreaming of making this place my home, my Salvation.

 

Five Weeks Later – Grens Hardware

 

“Come on Helga, get off her, she doesn’t need some mangy cat shedding all over. Go!” Brian says to the cat as he makes his way to Katie’s bed.

 

Brian sits down putting his freshly brewed coffee on the end table and picks Moby Dick up off the floor. He’s read the book several times in his life, these days he pictures himself as Captain Ahab and his home Pequod in a sea of dead. Just as he opens the tome Katie wakes. He knows not to say anything yet since the last time she nearly broke his nose out of fright. It’s been three days since the Pharmacy and neither of them has gotten over the experience; Mr. Gren himself has even started having nightmares, for the first time in his life.

 

“Hello?” Katie asks, her eyes blinking repeatedly from the sudden light.

 

“I’m here Dear.” Brian says. Katie starts at his voice.

 

“Who, Where am I?” She moves to get out of the cot but is stopped by soft lashings to her arms and ankles. “What the hell?!”

 

“Calm down Dear, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I had to strap you down since the last time you woke; I promise I mean you no harm.”

 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Katie turns to the old man, trying vaguely to get out of the restraints. A sudden remembrance flashes through her mind. “You were there, weren’t you?! At the Pharmacy?!”

 

“Yes Dear, my names Brian, Brian Gren. You’re safe, I assure you.”

 

“How long have I been here? Is the boy out there still?!” She says, working at the restraints to no avail.

 

“Please, calm down Katie, you need your strength.”

 

“How? How do you know my name?”

 

“Well, you’ve been in and out quite a few times, you told me your name and that you lived in an apartment across the creek.”

 

“I…I can’t remember any of it.” She stops talking, looking down at her lap lost in thought.

 

“You just sit here for a few dear; I’ll go get you some water.” Brian gets up but Katie stops him just before he leaves the room.

 

“Pancakes.”

 

“Pancakes?”

 

“Yes, pancakes.” Katie says still looking down at her lap.

 

Brian smiles and turns away, grateful he still had a box of mix in the pantry. As he gets to the kitchen in the small two bedroom apt above his hardware store he remembers Christmas and how he and his wife would make breakfast for his daughter. A tear drops down his face as he begins to whistle jingle bells.

 

That Same Day – Salvation

 

“Get out of here! Now!” The dying policeman said, his name I still don’t remember.

 

I ran, not looking back; fire consuming the hotel, my room being the last to catch with the man still inside. I found the officers squad car out on the street, engine still running; I got in and drove as fast as I could out of town. I wouldn’t for anyone, not even the woman trying to flag me down, two crazed men taking her as I pass.

 

I woke suddenly; sweat covering my clothes and sheets. I crawl out of the bed; stumbling over to the bathroom for a drink of water, the red numbers on the alarm clock blaring 2:33 am. Shaking my head I get to the door, hitting the light as I enter bathing the room in a dull glow. The mirror faces me as I stand in the doorway, my fine features peering back at me; clean shaven, hair cut short face a bit on the chubby side echoing my five foot, eleven inch, one hundred and eighty pound frame.

 

I get to the sink and turn the knob, but nothing came out. I had expected cool crisp water to be streaming out, ready to quench my thirst but then, I remember. I put my hands on the sink and hang my head as reality comes screaming back causing my legs buckle and mind to swoon. As I fall to the floor my chin catches the edge of the sink knocking my head backwards, my body fallowing. Everything goes dark for a moment and all I feel is pain as I land on the bathroom rug.

 

“No, don’t stop now dammit! Go Go! You peace of sh….” The squad car stalls, coming to a slow roll in the middle of the highway. I bang my head on the wheel, sobbing uncontrollably, causing the horn to honk repeatedly.

 

My brain thumps to the sound of the fading horn as I wake again laying there on the bathroom floor. I move my head around and feel the rug tugging and pulling as I do, the blood on my chin having dried to its fibers. The last three days have been like this, horrid dreams, waking in the middle of the night not being able to eat or feel the want to move. Never have I woke not knowing where I am though, not remembering what has happened. Looking up I see the bathroom light is off, never having turned on in the first place.

 

Slowly I climb to my feet, the cold having soaked to my muscles causing them to cramp as I move. I get to standing and walk back into the bedroom, glancing at the mirror as I go. No longer is the image staring back the clean shaven, perfectly featured face it was before. Now I have a low beard, mustache and long hair; my face gaunt and loose.

I look at the clock again as I enter through the doorway; its display as blank as the expression on my face. I imagined the whole thing, the lights, the clock and the water. It is at that moment that I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and get my ass in gear, headache and horror be damned.

 

I get dressed nice and slow to help dull the pain. Worn jeans, a good tight shirt and boots, I grab my glasses and Dodgers hat to complete the ensemble. I never cared for baseball or sports for that matter but it fits perfectly and stays on my head if or when I have to run. I open the door from my bedroom and step foot out into the hallway for the first time in three days. Dust lingered in the air just as it had before, not a sight or sound could be discerned in the silence.

 

I reach around the door jam, grabbing the M4 before walking down the hall to the window overlooking the courtyard. The little Smart Car is still sitting there, bloodied and battle scarred from the nightmare I endured three days ago. I sigh remembering what took place down town with the children, the damned sneaky assed children. I turn away from the window as a new ache surfaces and my stomach begins to clench. I haven’t eaten since I got back; I haven’t even had anything to drink. As I make my way downstairs I hear birds chirping, a calm conversation going on outside telling me that nothing is out of the ordinary, nothing walking around.

 

I walk into the kitchen having been in disgusting disarray when I came to Salvation, it took me two days to clean it. It had seemed that the previous residents in their dead walk had tried to cook beef straight on the stove top; it was well past being rotten when I threw it away. The refrigerator as well was filled with two dead cats and maggots had eaten most of the carcasses inside the warm, humid coffin. The whole thing went outside too.

 

I get to the spout hanging from the kitchen window, a rain barrel on the second floor balcony applying a gravity feed to the sink. Grabbing the closest cup at hand I gorge myself on the wetness as it soars down my gullet, face and chest. My shirt sticks to my skin as the water runs its course down my body. I drink until I can’t drink anymore, my stomach lurching until I heave and vomit into the sink, surprisingly it feels better.

 

After another fifteen minutes or so of water, a can of Cream of Mushroom soup and a package of crackers I retire to the den, its leather furniture and country charm working my wares away. I can hear the coffee pot brewing, the sound calming me even further into submission as I sit on a large backed chair; a cool breeze working its way through the house.

 

Breathing harder than ever I run, I can still hear them behind me, the children. Some seem to be laughing, some growling, and some gurgling. I look back at the derelict pickup as the swarms run out of the auditorium passed it; the poor thing having finally given up. I run, my breath coming on in gasps as it burns my lungs with each step. Rounding a corner I see the dealership, it was the best chance I had and probably by a large margin.

 

Panting and gasping I run, my boots slam on the pavement, echoing off of the building as I get to the rear door. “Parts Dept” it says, the smell of oil and fuel burst out as I slam the thing against the wall. My eyes adjust to the change in light; I don’t need to see to know it’s there. The Smart Car I had looked at last week, door open and keys sitting on the dash. I waste no time jumping in and slamming the door.

 

I realize to my great error that I had no way out. The bay doors were closed, the only way to the outside world being through the door I just came, the children reaching it just seconds after myself. I begin to sob, the children are on me now, on the car; some falling into the pit underneath me.

 

I’m about to give up, I can feel it deep inside. I move my hand to the holster where my pistol should have been and bang my head back on the seat as I feel the emptiness of the leather as my glove slides across it. As I do, my eyes open; I see through the sun roof a switch hanging just inches above me. Two buttons glared at me from the switch, they read Open and Close. I let out a burst of laughter, startling myself. I put the key into the ignition; it starts smoothly, my worries of it not running gone. I ease the sun roof open just enough to reach my hand out, nails scraping the hood as I grab the control and make good my escape.

 

I’m staring at the ceiling; head rested back on the cow hide chair. I sit there, my head no longer pounding but a low ache still permeates through. It’s darker now, probably around four pm or so, the smell of the coffee I had brewed hours ago barely hanging in the dusty air. Oddly, I feel better rested than I had earlier but my left hand is asleep, the tingling not even there yet. Looking down, I see that it is wedged between my leg and the arm of the chair, water glass still clenched in my fingers. After another five minutes of just sitting there I finally begin to move, gulping the water in one straight swig. It tasted dirty and rubbery from the rain catch and tubes but quenching none the less.

 

I stand up and stretch, the muscles having tightened again and threatening to cramp once more before I move. I decide to make a fresh pot of coffee and straighten up a bit, get my body moving again before nightfall sets in. I still can’t get my mind off of the persistent nightmare I endured earlier this week and decide to retrace the steps in my head as I do my chores.

 

I had started the day similarly to how I am now, except it wasn’t late afternoon. I needed to find some cable and a small motor, a wheeled jack stand from a trailer and a spool of wire rope. My intensions were to set up the front gate to be automatic, opening with just the push of a button. I had eaten, fueled the pickup and loaded my tool bag thinking it would be a quick trot into town and be back before noon but I hadn’t expected the truck to go lame. I was just driving nice and easy down town headed towards an old appliance repair shop to find a decent motor when the pickup sputtered, backfired and died; the noise echoed off of every building within a quarter mile. I was flabbergasted when I popped the hood, I had kept the maintenance up and knew the plugs were worn but didn’t think it would cause something like this; a visible hole was blown out, the number two plug split into two parts, half sitting on top of the air cleaner, the other half missing. I just stood there, hands on top of the hood holding it up and wondering what the hell I was going to do.

 

That’s when I heard them, first as just a few screams or slamming of doors and then a rush of noise from the windows of the building I was next to. Maybelle High School Auditorium was emblazoned on the tan wall, the semi fierce looking Badger showing defiance underneath the print. There was a span of about one hundred feet from the road to the wall, all of it being grass, benches and small monuments scattered throughout. Beyond the grass was a sidewalk lining the auditorium and emergency exit doors cut into the brick and mortar. I saw them then and realized it was for the first time; children. They varied in age, about ten to seventeen, all bloodied and dead looking.

I let the hood slam as I ran around the cab, jumping in and grabbing the M4 and my go bag. I looked through the window at the direction I wanted to go and as I did, I saw the other piece of sparkplug sticking through the top.

 

Just thinking about that day made me shiver as I wiped off the counters, sipping my coffee. All I could do was run and that’s when I remembered the Smart Car. At this I stepped back into the den and looked out the arched windows to the courtyard, the car still sitting there; rot covering the thing like I drove out of hell itself. I decide not to pay it another thought until tomorrow. “Tonight, I’ll just clean and play some Xbox.” I say aloud.

 

The kitchen was straightened and the den done as I moved to the living room, the only room in the house I’ve really left alone besides the dining room. There were glass shelves around the walls, each filled with glass figurines that I dusted on occasion. I didn’t care for the elk, bear and others but felt it helped keep me busy and I believed the previous owners had done the same. I do a once over and head to the basement door.

 

The basement was my playground at night, having no windows and only two exits, the one upstairs and a set of stairs heading out back. I flip the make shift circuit breaker, pulling juice from the solar panels on the lawn to the basement, cutting off everything upstairs. The lights come on and I put my trusty phone in the cradle and hit shuffle, a country song comes on. I head back upstairs, filling a thermos with the remainder of the coffee and grabbing my M4 before heading back down and locking the door for the night.

 

 

That Same Time – Grens Hardware

 

 

“So why did you name your cat Helga, Brian?” Katie asked. She sat on the bed, towel wrapped around her as she tended to her feet.

“Well, when my wife left and took Sam I had no one to talk to and I was so used to her being here that I decided to get a cat and name it after her. Helps keep me from talking to myself I ‘spose.” Brian said as he cleaned up from their dinner of boxed pasta and spam.

 

“Well, I think it’s a nice name. Who’s Sam?” She asked.

 

“Samantha, my daughter.” Brian says, looking down and becoming a little more interested in the dishes. “She was seven when my wife left.”

 

“Can I ask why?”

 

Brian looks up from the dishes, a mild smirk on his face.

 

“Well… Katie, as a person grows and gets older, they become a different age, it usually adds up to how many years they’ve been alive…” He chuckles as Katie throws a pillow at him through the door to the kitchen. “How old are you Katie?”

 

“I’m twenty three and you know what I mean! Why did they leave?” She chuckles but knew she had hit a nerve and cursed herself for prying.

 

Brian stops for a second, his back to her as he stares out of the boarded window, his eyes blank as if looking at a massive ocean.

 

“I was in the military… for a long time. When I was discharged.” He stops and looks back at Katie. “Honorably discharged.” He turns back around and continues his stare. “I decided that I needed something different than the hustle and bustle of the city so… I packed up Helga and Sam and came back here. I spent every last penny we had chasing this dream and opened the hardware store.” He dumps his hands in the sink and begins scrubbing again. “After about a year of the store being open I developed a habit of drinking at night. First just a few then a little more and a little more., Helga finally got tired of it and left, swearing she’d never come back to this shit hole.” He had stopped scrubbing once more; his eyes blank, just watching the water move back and forth.

 

“I’m sorry Brian.” Katie says, stopping as she was slipping on a pair of socks.

 

“Don’t be.” He says and starts scrubbing again, a bit more vigorously than before.

 

“When did you stop drinking?”

 

Brian stops again, hands still in the water and turns to look at her.

 

“About six days ago. We were in the pharmacy and there was whiskey on the shelf. I knew that if I took it, I may lose you too. That’s when I stopped drinking Katie, right then.” The two of them watched each others eyes for a minute before going back to their tasks. Brian never mentioned alcohol or his family again and Katie never asked. She felt safer than she had in a very long time and knew that no matter what extent the old man would have to go through, he would keep her safe. She smiled as she lifted her other foot and Brian began to whistle.

 

Night came on quick in the town of Maybelle as Brian sat on the roof with Helga on his lap. He enjoyed the night air and the silence from Them not being down below after nightfall. A cool breeze blew which caused Mr. Gren to have a sweater on and a hot cup in his hand.

 

“Hey Brian, what do you think” Katie asked as she came to the top of the ladder to the roof. Brian stopped and just looked at her. He hadn’t seen her get into his closet but apparently she was able to fit into his wife’s old jeans and blouse.

 

“Um… looks good, glad they fit.” He says, still in a bit of shock. The clothing hasn’t moved from their hangers in many years.

 

“They’re a bit dated but for what it’s worth, they fit great.” She smiled as she fixed a crease on the top. She looked up at Brian and stopped. “I… I hope you don’t mind, I just…”

 

“No, No dear, it’s fine. They’ve just been rotting away anyhow.” He explains not sure if he means it.

 

The two of them smiled as Katie took a seat next to him. To their amazement Helga jumped off of Brian’s lap and straight onto Katie’s and she smiled as the cat began to purr. They sat there for quite awhile, sharing stories or chatting about The Darkness and how neither of them knew how it happened.

 

“It’s them damned scientists Katie, I’m telling ya.”

 

“No Brian, I don’t think so. They wouldn’t put us in harms way, it’s gotta be from the terrorists!” Katie exclaims.

 

“Terrorist shmerrorist. Why would they set off a WMD in Maybelle Katie?”

 

“Um… I don’t know, maybe someone didn’t take them on a hike or something and they got mad.” She said sarcastically. They both chuckled but fell silent quickly as they heard a noise from the street below.

 

“Too late to be one of Them.” Brian says as he gets up from his chair.

 

“Brian, no…”

 

He creeps to the edge and looks over, the moonlight shedding enough of a glow that he can see movement on the sidewalk in front of the building. Peering closer he makes out two figures, huddled close together as if whispering.

 

“Go downstairs, take the cat with you.” Brian whispers to Katie. She doesn’t take more than a second to do as she’s told as she grabs the cat and heads down.

 

The Old Man peers over the edge again just as one of the figures looks up. It’s a woman, he sees as they make eye contact; blood and gristle covering her pajamas. Brian dodges behind the roof line but it’s too little too late. A horrid scream comes from the thing and he can hear feet pounding away down the pavement. He peers over the edge enough to make out the second figure running over the bridge away from the store.

 

“Shit!” he says aloud, no longer worried about being heard as he jolts up and all but falls down the ladder.

 

“What is it, what’s going on?!” Katie screams, the cat held tightly to her chest.

 

“It’s Them and they’re children.” He responds.

 

“No!” Katie yells as she drops the cat and raises her hands to her face; a look of horror on her face.

 

“You remember what I told you this morning right?” Brian asks.

 

“Uh huh.” Katie nods.

 

“Good, now go.”

 

Katie grabs the cat and dodges into the hall closet, the cat now having to share her hiding place. Brian dons his gloves, crowbar and a dirty old cowboy hat before opening the door to the store. This time, he isn’t caught off guard by the darkness as he’s made a ritual of being down here more than a few times a day.

 

The room is still dark as he creeps down the stairs but hits a switch when he reaches the bottom and the long dormant bulbs flicker on. The room illuminates in a soft glow as the amperage from the battery bank is less than substantial. As he moves from isle to isle, he notices his foot prints on the dusty floor are the only ones there. Breathing a sigh of relief he makes his way to the front door and the same window he had peered out of before.

 

Nothing moves out front, the glow from the sky giving him a clear view to the street beyond. Another scream suddenly emerges out of nowhere and the young woman outside throws her body at the boarded window, the glass breaking and causes Mr. Gren to fall backwards into a shelf of plastic gas cans. As he clambers to get back up an arm reaches through the loose board and begins to pull. Brian wasted no time in beating the fingers to a bloody mess with the battle scarred crowbar.

 

The beast lets out another scream as fingernails and skin tear off its hand and land on the floor inside, casing the wood in blood and splatter. Another thud comes but this time it’s from the back door, the chain rattling from the new weight against it. Another and another as it seems more than one of Them is trying to tear it down from the outside. Brian knows what must be done as he runs behind the service counter on the north side of the wall, the rattling doors still not budging on his right. He gets into his old office and flicks another switch, this time the lights inside the building dull to an extremely faint glow as the outside lights blare on.

 

The stairs creak and moan at Brian’s weight as he lunges up them and through the apartment door, pulling open the closet door and grabbing Katie by the waist. His bulk doesn’t even buckle once as he hoists the woman onto his shoulder and goes to the ladder on the roof, slowly taking one step at a time.

 

“What is it? I heard the noises, what’s going on?!” Katie screams, sobs coming out as she does.

 

“They’re here, the children!” he yells back, finally getting to the top and putting Katie down. He’s not sure why he grabbed her and hauled her up the way he did and begins coughing.

 

“Did they get you, there’s blood on you? Are you alright?!” Katie asks, taking an awkward step back.

 

“No No, I just lost my breath…” He says between gasps. “We need… we need to go.” He says, pointing a finger at a long piece of lumber on the south end of the roof. Katie looks at the wood and back at Brian.

 

“Ok, let’s do it.” She says as she starts moving towards it.

 

 

“I’ll… I’ll get the bag.” Brian heads back down the ladder, he can hear the clanging from down below and knows they haven’t broken through yet. He heads straight to his room and tosses the mattress off his bed in one hulking movement, buried underneath is a duffle bag; a shotgun butt sticking out from the zipper.

 

As they slide the beam over the roof and onto the next, Katie finally sees what’s happening. The alley was full of Them, all children; some in their teens, some younger, and they were all ferocious and crazed, trying to break through the door. Brian went first, slowly creeping onto the beam, trying not to draw notice and hoping his distraction from the lights outside would keep their attention. Katie stopped and looked back towards the door.

 

“Helga!” She says in a loud whisper before turning back and vaulting down the ladder.

 

“No! Get back…! Dammit!” Brian yells as he drops the duffle, the shotgun appearing in his hand as he does. It’s an old single shot 18 gauge he had since before the Corps; the wooden butt notched and stained with years of dove hunting. He hurries back across the beam on his hand and knees, one arm supporting him, the other holding the scatter gun in an upward position. As he gets half way, the rear door, the one facing the alley he’s dangling over finally gives way; a horde of lifeless cannibals streaming in, trampling each other in the process. Brian yells for Katie but gets no response; sweat rolling down from his forehead even as the air chills his bones. Just as he reaches the end of the plank, Katie comes up through the trap door, Helga cradled haphazardly in her left arm, Moby Dick in her hand.

 

“Dammit Girl, let’s go!” He yells as he climbs to his feet. He ushers her across the beam, never taking his eyes from the ladder, gun pointed with one bulky arm towards it. A cacophony of noise erupts from the apartment down below as glass and wood break. They’re in such great numbers that both he and Katie can feel the rumble from hundreds of feet marching through the building.

 

“Go!” He yells again, just as he does, the first of Them pops a bedraggled head through the hole. The scattergun goes off with a boom, the double-aught forcing its way through the child’s skull and beyond.

 

The Old Man not seeming so old now jumps onto the plank as Katie gets across the lumber having torn a hole in the knee of her jeans. As Brian walks backwards across the wood, not watching his step or noticing its height he quickly reloads the chamber of the gun. As he does, the body from the first of Them has been moved and others start coming up the ladder. Brian swings the barrel up; causing it to click closed and pulls the trigger, a volley of steel flying from his fist. It takes the first two down, though not for long when he gets to the end of the plank, as he does Katie begins pushing the wood over the edge. A boy, probably seven or so clambers onto the beam as they both push it over, the boy falling two flights with it.

 

The two stand in silence for a moment watching body’s file from the ladder and to the edge, some falling as they’re pushed from behind by their counterparts. Brian makes an about face, grabbing the duffle as his boots slide on the newer sleek roof of the Maybelle Law Offices. Katie follows suite grabbing Helga again, hot on Brian’s heels. As they reach the door heading down Brian looks one more time at his hardware store, his beloved home. He picks up a cord that Katie hadn’t known was there before, stretching between the two buildings.

 

“Goodbye my love.” He says as he hits a toggle switch. Like the strike of a match the bottom of the building ignites in a massive flame, screams come from the lifeless walking bodies still lingering on the first floor. Without saying anything else, the man, the born again father turns around and heads down the stairs, not saying a word or looking back.

 

“Where are we going Brian?” Katie asks exasperatingly.

 

“I know of a place, not too far from here.” Brian says coldly, out of touch.

 

“Ok. How… how are we going to get there?” She asks.

“I’ve got it handled.” Was all that he said as they moved deeper into the building.

 

An Hour Later – Salvation

 

The moon was high, the warm cold autumn breezes just beginning to make their way around the world. I’ve been walking for ages it seems down the dull desolate highway that ran around Maybelle. Now and then I would be forced to dodge into the wood beyond, hiding from passing cars that barreled past me, the habitants inside either screaming, crying or yelling incoherently. My luck ran out it seemed as I rounded a bend, a small pickup sitting on the side of the road, its owner it would seem was inside, blood and bone fragments stuck to the windows, door wide open.

 

I remember approaching slowly but as I crept to the driver door, I could tell the man was a man no more, it was a corpse. A single gun shot to the head, through and through. A small beam of moonlight plunged in through the hole that was made in the roof. It was my only chance and so I took it. I grabbed the man and pulled him out taking his gun as I did. A 9mm automatic, my friend had had one like this, it was mine now, as was the truck. I cleaned off what I could and slid onto the seat, turning the keys that hung in the ignition, firing the engine up for the first time. I closed the door and if I had been looking in from the road, I would have seen a new man, a new man with new intent. Survive, that’s exactly what I planned to do. If I had been looking in, I would have seen the name on the little S10, Grens Hardware. If I would have been looking in, I would have recognized that the driver may just have been the man I had been here for.

 

I woke again, head back on the chocolate colored microfiber couch, remote still in my hand, my neck stiff from being rolled back for so long. I look at the wall clock; the time reads 12:33. I sit there and think, what if I hadn’t have come here? What if I had just stayed home and gone on with it? Shaking my head I get up and head to the hose, again running from the same rain barrel on the balcony. Just as I raise my glass, my hand on the lever a noise from upstairs stops me. I stop, straining my ears to listen. The noise comes again and again as a series of knocks somewhere to the back of the house. Setting the glass down I head to the door, grabbing my rifle and hitting the breaker as I’m plunged into darkness and begin my assent to the first floor.

 

At That Very Moment – Brian and Katie

 

“Brian, don’t be so loud.” Katie urgently whispers.

 

“It’s fine dear, the owners were on vacation when the darkness hit, it’s empty.” Brian explained reassuringly.

 

“Ok, I trust you.” She said as Brian worked the door with the crowbar leaving marks on it like some wild animal had tried to get inside.

 

Katie watched, thinking about the run from the hardware store. When Brian explained to Katie that he had transportation she didn’t think it would be a motorcycle. The air rushing past her as Brian had made his way to the suburbs felt nice but to see the devastation that was left in the wake of the darkness wasn’t and it caused her heart to sink. She wondered and not for the first time, if they could ever be the same again; with parades, picnics and Monday night matinees at the theatre. Katie turns around to see Helga frolicking in the tall grass behind the porch attempting to catch gnats buzzing above her head. She smiles as she begins biting her nails, right arm crossed and under the other, obviously discontent with her surroundings but more or less happy to see Helga having fun. She turns back to Brian and notices he’s stopped prying and now has his ear to the door. Katie bends down so she’s closer to Brian.

 

“What’s wrong?” She asks in a worried whisper.

 

“Eh, thought I heard a noise.” He responds as he moves the crowbar back and grabs the shotgun.

 

Inside The House – Salvation

 

I can hear the noise clearly as I open the door; a long low creak explodes from the old hinge as I nudge it open. Again, a small mistake that could cost me my life but I’m too worried to notice. I look straight; the French style front doors with glass windows are just in front of me. The noise has stopped but I know it isn’t coming from there.  Rifle in front of me I start a right hand turn into the hallway bringing the rear doors into the M4’s view. I creep closer and hear something that I hadn’t heard in ages; a voice, a woman’s voice at that.

 

“What’s wrong?” It asks.

 

There’s an indistinct shuffle and another voice, a mans. I lie and wait, it could be some other survivor, maybe they found me, and maybe they’re going to try and take what I have, to kill me. Sweat begins to form on my brow, my hands becoming wet as I grip the rifle tighter, afraid it may slip.

 

“Come on, let’s go.” I hear the mans voice, clear and distinct if a bit older.

 

“No, wait!” I say aloud. I immediately curse myself for talking before thinking, it could cost me dearly.

 

“We’re just leaving, we don’t want any trouble.” I hear the man say. The woman speaks again, and more shuffling can be heard.

 

“Please, we just need a place to stay, we’re so tired.” The woman says, this voice sounds young and slightly seductive.

 

“Dammit girl, get back.” I hear more shuffling as the man speaks. “Like I said we didn’t mean you any…” I stop him in mid sentence.

 

“Look, you sound alright. I’m alright too. How many of you are there?” I ask, the name Brian ringing a bell in my head.

 

“Two.” The girl answers. “Well, actually three, we have a cat.” I can hear a sigh and picture the man shaking his head.

 

“Look, I’m here by myself, I’ve been here for over a month and mean you no harm as well. I… I have food.” I say, again wanting to kick my own ass for jumping the gun, again.

 

“What’s your name son?” The man asks.

 

“Doug.” I say. “Douglas Hill to be exact. And you?” The sweat starts dripping onto the floor as I wait for his response.

 

“Names Brian and this is Katie.” He says.

 

“Brian what?” Wanting to know for sure, my heart racing still.

 

“Gren, Brian Gren.”

 

“Hold on.” I say. “Let me open this door.”