Stay Dead 2: The Dead and The Dying (30 page)

54 FADING LIGHT

(back to
top)

By now everyone but Chuck and Janice
had showered. Janice didn’t want to risk the safety of the others
by doing so and no one argued with her. Even her sons didn’t see
the point. She was practically dead and could care less about how
dirty she was.

Chuck just didn’t want to have anyone
else take the helm and potentially ruin what was becoming a pretty
smooth trip.

Aside from the chill in the air, and
eerily adrift vessels strewn about the Atlantic as if haphazardly
thrown around by a child in a bathtub, it had been almost relaxing.
They weren’t running, being chased down by deaders, at the mercy of
strangers, or travelling alongside a murderer.

The cigars had long ago been smoked to
stubs and tossed overboard, but the scent still lingered. In
Florida, Chuck spent a lot of time on boats. Almost always
drinking. Sometimes fishing, sometimes partying, and sometimes
doing other things. He loved the water. Felt at home on it. Loved
the relaxing rhythms of its waves.

The soothing movements rocked everyone
in the cabin to sleep except for Frankie. He was awake. In some
yuppies clothes—clean clothes, however—and watching everyone else
sleep. He was trying to come to terms with what his life was now.
And tried to see ahead at what it could be. Aside from his best
friend and his family, everything he loved was dead. It only
recently began to sink in.

Maybe things would be different
further up the coast. Maybe they would find a place in the world
that still had a heartbeat.

Maybe there’s something still ahead to
live for…

Eventually his thoughts led to sleep
and his body fell to the side, leaning against Abdul who fell
asleep only moments before.

Topside, Eddie and Joseph sat with
their mother, trying their best to comfort one another. While Scott
and Judy sat bundled up with a fleece throw over their
shoulders.

Chung-Hee hung around Scott, watching
how he worked the ship and asking questions the whole while. It was
clear to both of them what he was doing and why and Chuck was more
than happy to answer his questions. He offered Chung-Hee the chance
to pilot it for a while, but he declined.

“
You keep doing it, I don’t
want to rock the boat.”

“
Don’t worry about that. In
a lot of ways the water is more forgiving than the
roadways.”

“
Nah, it’s okay, man. Maybe
later. I think I’m going to go shower anyway.”

“
Suit yourself.”

Once Chung-Hee stepped into the cabin
he couldn’t help but chuckle. Everyone was passed out and at least
two people were snoring obscenely loudly. He found the light switch
and dimmed it for them. He noticed everyone was wearing new clothes
and he looked about the room trying to determine where they came
from. He decided to look through what cabinets he could and found a
pair of flannel pajama pants and a long sleeved thermal
shirt.

“
Good enough,” he mumbled
to himself and headed for the bathroom.

The night was clear and quiet. The
moon shimmered on the water. Chuck stared into the distance and
felt like he was staring into a void. Aside from the moon and the
stars, there was nothing but darkness all around.

Judy fell asleep, her cheek pressed
against Scott’s chest. He pulled her close, making sure the fleece
throw was wrapped tightly to her. He kept his eye on Chuck to make
sure he wasn’t falling asleep and kept his eyes on Janice to make
sure she wasn’t turning into one of the deaders.

His gaze fell on Eddie and Joseph. Two
brothers who had been as tough as nails from the moment they met.
Yet there they sat, distraught, broken, holding on to their mother
as she slipped away into what Scott could only imagine as being a
cold unforgiving darkness. Scott knew death—at least he thought he
did—and the bodies he prepared for burial were always cold, as cold
as ice sometimes, and devoid of any light. The eyes just didn’t
shine the same way in the light; even fingernails seemed to lose
their sheen.

He could offer no words of solace. No
sentiments to help ease the pain and lessen the grief. Maybe after
all was said and done, but not now, all he could do now was witness
it and stay alert.

Yussef slept uncomfortably. He shifted
and spun, waking and falling back to sleep. He felt nauseous and
was sweaty. He scratched at his lower leg, making bleed a small
scratch he had no idea he’d gotten when Janice pulled him away from
the deader on the bridge. Everyone else slept peacefully,
undisturbed by his restlessness, but his restlessness only grew and
so did the darkness inside him.

55 WISHFUL
THINKING

(back to
top)

At the Caulfield’s, after Davis and
Danni had cleaned up and put fresh clothes on, they sat down for
dinner. It was clear that the two guests were famished as they
barely spoke a word, scarfing down as much food as possible. When
there was no more food left, Davis sat back and smiled.

“
Mrs. Caulfield, that was
superb.”

“
Thank you, Bruce. Anyone
want coffee.”

Everyone said, “Yes.”

There was some small talk, some big
talk, and many interruptions from the children. Aside from deaders,
it was the first time Danni had seen living children since the
first days. There was a dark situation when she took refuge with
Clem and his wife, involving their granddaughter, but she couldn’t
blame them for keeping her.

She found the Caulfield children’s
smiles and laughter otherworldly. It was as if they had no concept
of what was happening to the world in which they lived. She envied
their ignorance, and their happiness even more so. Despite the loss
of Clem, another tragic casualty in the day-to-day survival against
the dead, she was happy to be here. Happy to be alive and
surrounded by good people.

After awhile everyone dispersed,
leaving Walter and Davis sitting at the table drinking
coffee.

“
I know I didn’t want to
get into it till I had some rest, but you got me thinking
Walter.”

“
Thinking about
what?”

“
The wall…or walling off a
smaller section at least. When we took down those deaders at the
station I could see it right there. A small version of what I had
in mind, something more practical I guess. We wouldn’t even need
much to do it because the buildings over there are so close
together. We can probably get enough school busses to block off
both ends of the street. Say from where the post office is, till
the stop sign on the far end.”

“
And what about in between
the buildings?”

“
Well, some of them are so
narrow we could literally wall ‘em off if we can find enough
materials. Or maybe just stick a car in there and fence it off,
barricade it somehow. Some of the larger spaces I don’t really
know. Fencing, some trenches, regular patrols maybe?”

“
Sure, any of that could
work. I’m thinking though, that’s a lot of work for just the few of
us. Maybe tomorrow we’ll go around and see if we can’t round up
some more people in town.”

“
Sounds fine to me. We’ll
just take it one step at a time.”

“
Amen to that. I just want
to get the kids out for a bit tomorrow. They need to run around
outside. Maybe you and the girl can help us keep an eye out. We’ve
been trying to shelter them from the dead; it’s starting to wear on
us. We wanted to start working on fencing off the house and
reinforce it anyway we could. We’ve been going around and
scavenging supplies from the neighbors too.”

“
That’s good man, thinking
ahead. I should’ve started thinking ahead from day one. Maybe I
could’ve made some better choices, kept more people
alive…”

“
Hindsight’s always
twenty-twenty. You reacted the way you should have. It’s not like
we were getting a lot of real information at first.”

“
No we weren’t.”

“
You think this will
pass?”

“
I sure as shit hope so.
Why wouldn’t it? Maybe it’ll go away as abruptly as it came. But I
think that’s just hopeful thinking. I think we’ll be dealing with
this for a long time to come.”

“
I was talking to Jeff the
other day. About making it through the winter…it’ll be tough on us,
but maybe it’ll be even tougher on the dead. Maybe if we can get
some snow, some real bad weather, it’ll help us out. They don’t
seem to take shelter, so if we get a bad winter…”

“
More wishful thinking,
Walt. I don’t think we saw snow till January last year.”

“
Then maybe we’ll get it
early this year.”

“
You got enough food to
last that long?”

“
No, not by a long shot,
but we’re getting there. There’s a lot of homes in town and it’s
not like we have anything else to do.”

“
I guess not.”

Jeff sat on the floor playing with the
kids and Maria. Barbara stood by the door, looking outside. Laura
sat with Danni, trying to engage her in conversation but she seemed
to be drifting off into her own thoughts.

Barbara stepped outside, listening to
the sounds of night settling in over the land. There was still
enough light as the blue sky grew darker and darker to see her
surroundings. She could see a few deaders bleeding into the
darkness, getting lost into what would soon be night. It would be a
clear night, she knew, as she looked up to the sky and saw a
brilliant display of stars.

God, if you’re listening…if you’re
even fucking out there, why? Why are you doing this? What the hell
did we do?

56 VENGEANCE ON THE
WIND

(back to
top)

Sarah joined the dead horde that
followed Ben through the house and down into the garage. He put the
truck into reverse and drove it back off the ruined door. The dead
now shambled over the door following after him. He pulled the truck
over to a stop, got out and turned the latch on the back of the
truck, with ease he pushed the door all the way up and pulled out
the loading ramp.

“
Get in you dead mother
fuckers I ain’t got all day!”

The dead did not argue. Though they
did have a hell of a time trying to walk up the ramp. Some fell
off, while others bumped into each other, some just didn’t
understand what it was they were supposed to be doing.

“
Fucking idiots. Brain dead
maggot sucking idiots.”

Ben waited though; he wanted Sarah in
the truck. Jim made it in, just barely, and Sarah wasn’t far
behind. Her movements were smoother than the others, more fluid,
and less jerkily. She was a fresh one, and if Ben could figure out
a way of getting hard, he wanted to fuck her—dead or
not.

Eventually she got into the back of
the box truck and Ben pulled down the door and locked the latch. He
slammed the ramp back in and waived a middle finger to the deaders
that were unable to load themself in.

Driving away, Creedence Clearwater
Revival was still blasting from the speakers.

***

Ben drove on some sort of dark
autopilot from hell. Driving casually through the mostly empty
streets. Leaves littered the grounds and streets, clogged the storm
drains, and kicked up into the air as Ben drove through them. He
could tell which homes had people in them and which didn’t. He knew
the dead could as well, but they tended to get distracted and
wander off.

Distraction was something Ben didn’t
care for too much. He liked to stay focused--to keep his eyes on
the prize, as his father would say. So as much as he wanted to
knock on the door and surprise a couple of survivors he drove on.
Through the streets that would take him to New Haven and beyond. He
would drive close to Titan City so he could see the beautiful
destruction with his own decaying eyes.

Then he would get onto 287 and follow
it as far north as he could because he knew that was the way to
go.

How do I know?

Why do I know?

Are there others like me?

The darkness inside him answered
without ever saying a word. Feeling elated Ben drove on. The dead
moved out of his way when he approached, in the few spots where
they moved like sheep across the highway. It made him feel like
some kind of zombie royalty, a dead knight in putrefying
armor.

He was part of something now.
Something far bigger than he ever thought possible—The
Unwinding.

He loved killing, and had aspired to
be listed among the greats. He always hoped he’d get a movie made
of his dark art once it was all said and done, but now? The greats
were small fish. He was swimming in a sea of blood that would drown
the world, and in it he was a shark.

Just like those he followed he had to
abandon his vehicle. He let the dead out of the back of the truck
and walked away. Dead Sarah and the others followed behind,
shuffling noisily through a pile of cans on the side of the
road.