From Darkness Comes: The Horror Box Set (88 page)

Day 129.

Education.

Everyone else is asleep. We found a small clearing in the woods that led to a depression that should be hard to find. At any rate, we were all tired enough to convince ourselves that this was a good hiding place. Negi gamely stood guard with me but it was clear he would fall over if he tried staying awake any longer, so I asked him to take a nap. We have only one lamp with us, which I’ve kept on so I can at least see what’s going on around us.

The fact that it will also attract attention doesn’t really help, but I have little choice.

We heard the Moreko earlier and if a group of them stumbled onto us, we are finished. We just don’t have the numbers, the weapons, or the energy left to put up any sort of a fight. So here I am, sitting as usual with my notebook, scribbling away. By the faint light of the lamp, I can see Negi and the others huddled together. For a minute, the thought did cross my mind that I could just slip away, but then I put it aside. I may be a selfish asshole, but even I wouldn’t abandon these civvies to a certain death.

Did you know I studied history and literature in school? I loved learning about the past and I always wanted to write. Talk about useless skills. I ended up in the Army after my old man passed away. My father had been a rifleman in the Army – we never had much money, but we had the pride that comes with being in uniform and he always made sure I got the best education possible. My mother died when I was a toddler so it was always just me and my father. He would tell me he wanted his son to be an officer so he could salute him. When he passed, and I was left with little money or prospects, his commanding officer asked me to try out for the Army. If nothing else, he told me, it would help me get a degree and I could figure out what I wanted to do later. It was one of the rare moments when I let sentimentality get the better of me. I remembered my father and said yes.

Now sitting in the darkness, surrounded by Moreko and with the sounds of gunfire still echoing around us, I realize that all those choices were meant to lead up to this moment. My military career may have ended prematurely, but everything I learnt there is distilled into this single moment when all my skills and all my training will be tested as never before. As I sit and look at what the civilians been reduced to, I feel ashamed of all of us humans. Did we royally screw up our world or what? All that we built up over thousands of years – gone – poof! Just like that. We’re back to living like uncivilized brutes while warlords and Godmen like Bharti fight over the spoils and ordinary folks like Negi are treated as slaves.

It just pisses me off.

I’ve gone through much longer periods without sleep and food, so I can keep going a bit longer, but the kids will need some food tomorrow.

I have a rifle next to me and a knife tucked into my belt.

And tomorrow, I plan to go hunting.

Day 130. Hunting season.

We woke up early and the Moreko didn’t seem to be around so I asked the folks to get ready to help fetch some lunch. The kids were awesome.

The oldest is eight and the youngest four, and they had a ball of a time running through the woods, disturbing the branches as much as they could. I never had kids and never thought of myself as someone who could like kids, but I must admit to having smiled for the first time in a long, long while.

Of course it was all fun and games till they saw the blood. I gather that all my companions are city folks. One of them was a doctor, another an architect. Educated, civilized sorts. Just the wrong kind of people to have with you when you’re stranded in a forest, trying to hunt wild animals and escape hordes of undead monsters.

Anyways, I caught a small hare and some of the kids blanched when I began skinning it. Can’t help it. About time they realized that Bugs Bunny can be a part of our food chain. It was very little food to go around, but at least there was something. Negi managed to find some berries, which added to the meal, but it’s always dicey to eat wild fruit, so we do need to get a more regular and safe food source.

I can’t hear any more gunfire from the city but I did hear the chopper a little while ago. So Bharti’s out there with his men, and I have no doubt his rivals are out there as well. Which leaves me in a bit of a predicament. Even alone, I would not have fancied my chances out here – trapped between two warring armies and the Moreko. With a bunch of untrained civvies and kids to babysit, I can’t really think of any good options. One thing is for certain, though. We have to find some sort of safety before nightfall.

Day 130. Silent night, unholy night.

For the first time in weeks, I’ve taken off my prosthetic leg. As I rub the stump where it had been attached, I can feel a dull, throbbing pain. I think I’m done with running for today at least. I saw some of the civvies look at me almost in shock when they realized that their fearless leader only had one leg. Soon enough they’ll start realizing all my other deficiencies, but today I got lucky.

After lunch we headed off in search of water. I had seen multiple animal tracks leading East, and I had a hunch that there must be water there for them to keep going there. We struck gold when after an hour of hiking, we found a pond. We all drank our fill and washed up. Negi pointed to a low hill near the pond and after I checked it out, it seemed like a perfect hiding place. There were several decent-sized caves on the side of the hill, and all of us fit neatly into a couple of them. We managed to get some more berries and brought up some water from the pond.

Now we’re as comfortable as we can hope to be under the circumstances. The kids are all huddled up under the few blankets their parents were carrying. We can’t risk a fire, so we’re trying our best to stay warm by putting on as many layers of clothes as we can find. A man in the group lent me a spare sweater, which I’m grateful for, otherwise I would have been freezing my ass off. I planned to spend the night thinking of our plan for the next day, but the Moreko had other ideas.

A couple of hours after we had come up to the caves, I spotted movement in the bushes, followed by that pretty distinctive stench that I had come to know so well. There were a dozen or more Moreko, stumbling along in the darkness, and I think I saw one of the stupid buggers slip and fall in the water. I doubt any of us will want to drink from the pond tomorrow.

They’re still down there, screeching away. The kids are terrified, but I doubt the Moreko know we’re up here. As I see them in the moonlight, I wonder what happened to them to make them the way they are.

Earlier, without any provocation, one of them pushed another and then they were at it – ripping and biting each other till one of them was killed. The others just continued roaming around as if nothing happened.

The doc in the group, a talkative man called Sen, tells me that it all began with some experiments gone wrong in the US. I can believe it – we seem to be good at screwing ourselves up.

Kids are amazing. Despite the bloody Moreko keeping up their midnight concert, they are all fast asleep. I’m tired as well, but I can’t get any sleep – not with the Moreko just below us.

Day 131. Siege redux.

It’s a familiar feeling for me – to be under siege by the Moreko. I don’t think they even know we’re up here, but for whatever reason, they refuse to budge. One more of them was torn apart by his comrades in a brawl, but that still leaves ten of them, and if we wait for them to kill themselves, I suspect we’ll die of thirst before that happens. Our water is now almost finished, and the kids are looking pretty weak. Negi and Sen came up to me a few minutes ago, and Sen said that we must make a move tonight, otherwise at least a couple of the younger kids won’t be able to carry on without food or water. I knew all that already, and I was wondering why they were telling me when it struck me.

They’re looking at me to come up with a plan.

I hope they realize just how screwed they are.

Day 132. Death of a Doctor.

We buried Sen this afternoon. I’ve lost men in combat, but this really struck home. I was crying – something I had thought myself no longer capable of. As a soldier, you sign up knowing that you could lose your life, but Sen was no soldier. He was a slightly overweight, short man of forty with a wife and a kid he had left back in Delhi when he had come to Gangtok for a medical conference. He could have followed the herd, seeking safety in numbers, hoping someone else took charge. Hoping I took charge. But he didn’t, and in doing what he did, he proved himself to be a far better man than I.

Last evening, I sat up watching the Moreko, nine of them remaining after one more fell in a brawl. Our food was long gone and the last drops of water remained. Sen had come up to me once again, asking me if I had a plan. I told him I was working on it, but in truth there was nothing I could see that might work. Of the six men in our group, only Negi seemed to know how to shoot a bit, and we only had three firearms between us. We could try and pick off the Moreko from up here with the rifles, but with just two rifles we would likely get at most two or three of them before the others scattered into the forest. Then we would be back to square one – under siege.

From what I had seen at the bungalow, I didn’t think the Moreko could climb the hill up to where we were, but sitting here indefinitely was not an option. The thought did cross my mind that perhaps we could rush the Moreko. We had fourteen adults and three firearms. I didn’t count the knives since I wouldn’t recommend any sane person get within knife-fighting range of a Moreko, but if the others could distract the Moreko by going down, three of us with guns might have a chance of getting them. I dismissed the idea as soon as I got it. Who would I ask to go down to a near certain death? The people with me were tour guides, doctors and businessmen. None of them knew how to fight, and none of them looked like they were ready for a suicide mission. Hell, I wasn’t sure I was up to it.

That was when Sen brushed past me, telling me and Negi to be ready with the rifles. The poor, brave soul must have had the same idea I did, but he acted on it. He rushed down the hill, shouting, brandishing the pistol he carried. The Moreko roared and came at him as he ran towards them and then doubled back towards the hill, firing several times. I’m sure this was the first time he had ever fired a gun, but even then he managed to hit one of the Moreko in the chest. The others were in a frenzy and were converging on him when I asked Negi to open fire.

I rushed down the hill, no longer willing to sit up there in safety while Sen sacrificed himself. I fired from the hip as I ran, hitting one Moreko, and another went down to Negi’s fire. That still left six Moreko and Sen was now out of bullets. Brave as he was, he had begun screaming in terror.

I knelt and brought down another Moreko with a burst to the legs. As he went down, I finished him with a shot to the head.

The Moreko hesitated for a second. They almost had Sen, but they also realized that Negi and I presented a threat. God knows how their diseased, rotten brains work but they pounced on Sen. I kept firing and hit three more and Negi got one, but there was no way we were going to save Sen. I still remember his screams and as I ran up to him, I saw the last Moreko kneeling over him, blood dripping from his mouth. I smashed the diseased fucker’s head open with the butt of my rifle. This being a brand-new assault rifle versus the ancient Enfield with which I had tried the same stunt back at the bungalow, my rifle stayed intact; the Moreko’s head didn’t.

After burying Sen, we found a new hideout, another seemingly secure hill with a pond near it. People drank out of necessity, but nobody has eaten and nobody is talking much. Everyone seems to be thinking of Sen’s sacrifice, as am I.

As I look at them sitting together, huddled in their torn blankets, I feel something I have never felt before – a sense of responsibility for something more than my sorry ass. All my life I’ve bothered about nothing more than my own needs, my own survival, and my ego. A fat lot of good that did my career and my marriage, but Sen’s taught me something. I have no idea what will happen to me, and honestly nobody will care, but these people with me have families, have people to live for. If I do nothing else, I’ll try and see them to safety. I owe Sen that much.

Day 133. Lessons in democracy.

Out of ideas, and nearly out of ammunition, for the first time since we were thrown together, this morning we discussed what we should do next. Negi started off by asking me what I thought we should be doing. I had enough of having leadership thrust on me and asked him why he thought I’d have any brighter ideas than the rest of them. He looked a bit hurt and replied that after all, I had been an officer in the Army. I was the only one who knew anything about surviving in an environment like this and the only one who could fight if need be. That, in his book, made me the leader.

Talk about irony. People study, work hard at their jobs, gain impressive degrees and qualifications and then at the end of it, it turns out that grunts shall inherit the Earth. Anyways, I was out of bright ideas and so I suggested that we vote on it. One option was to seek out Bharti’s troopers and rejoin his community. The other was to strike out on our own.

To my shock, all but one of the adults voted for the second option. I couldn’t understand why they would want to wander about in the forest with no clear destination and no real hope of safety or rescue. Negi summed it up for me well. He told me that all of them might not have been rich, might not have been privileged before the infection spread, but at least they had all been free. The few months in Bharti’s camp had taught them there were things more important than having a meal to eat and being able to sleep safely at night. Most of the people with me had suffered abuse at the hands of the troopers or knew others who had, and none of them wanted to become slaves again.

As I watched them, I realized that they were making me their leader, but I was not the one leading them. Indeed, their courage was leading me, forcing me to become a better man.

While the kids slept, I had a little chat with the adults. I told them I didn’t know where safety lay, but I did know that we could not hope to last long with this pitiful arsenal. Our only hope of surviving was to arm ourselves. A couple of them said that they had no idea how to shoot, and I told them that was not the hard part. Against Moreko, you don’t need to be an elite commando – you just need to be able to point the damn gun and pull the trigger.

That much I could teach. The much harder part is going to be finding weapons.

Call me crazy, but tomorrow I’m going to seek out trouble.