The Reawakening (The Living Dead Trilogy, Book 1) (18 page)

“I’m going back upstairs now. Are you sure that thing won’t escape?”

“Its musculature is very rigid and not well defined, though that may change as the genetic material syncs up with the brain.” Rick turned his back to me. “For the time being, its fast twitch muscles are quite atrophied and limited, so I don’t believe it will be a problem. In any case, the door will always remain locked.”

“Jesus, I hope you’re right.”

“Do me a favor, and don’t tell any of the others upstairs about what’s going on down here. Best to keep that between you and me.”

“I’d never tell anyone about what I witnessed down here. In fact, I wish I could forget it myself.”

“If you could throw a few logs in the fireplace, I’d really appreciate it. Winter’s starting early, and it’s getting cold up there. There’s some logs and paper in the bin. We’ll need to retrieve some more firewood later.”

I closed the door behind me and hobbled up the stairs, where I found Gunner sitting on the couch feeding Amber. Emily was playing on the floor with one of her dolls. Thankfully, her fever had broken, and her life had been spared. I went over to the bin, removed a few logs, and threw them into the fireplace. Then I proceeded to build a rip-roaring fire.

Chapter 12

I
FELT HORRIFIED AT THE REALIZATION
that my wife and son were on their own, and that I had no way of contacting them or insuring their safety. The sad fact is that I
had
wanted to buy a handgun and learn how to shoot it in the event of a robbery or break-in, but Margaret had been against us having any guns in the house. She was vehemently against all gun ownership. The only way I could have pulled it off was if I had hid the weapon from her, and hoped she never found it. But what good would that have done now?

Rick’s words rang in my ears and filled me with guilt. I had no choice but to admit that he’d been right by moving up here and building a life for himself and Susan. For many years now, he’d been warning me to prepare for the coming collapse; the feds couldn’t keep printing money forever. Although he had no idea about the scope and enormity of things to come, the fact that he’d quit academia had stunned me at the time. He and Susan had then moved to Maine, where he’d built up this farmstead, kept a large supply of food, ammo, and water, and made his household as self-sufficient as possible. That Dar and I were now dependent on him for our survival filled me with regret and guilt.

The warmth of the fire began to permeate the house. Outside, the snow continued to pile up all along the driveway. Dar and Thorn sat at the kitchen table playing cards and drinking beer. The cards, which Thorn had brought with him, had explicit photographs of naked girls on the back. Thorn went into the kitchen and pulled a few more beers out of the fridge. Upon seeing me, he asked if I wanted one. I raised my hand up, and he underhanded me one through the air. It landed smack dab in the middle of my palm. I popped it open, glanced outside, and saw no sign of any of the creatures stumbling about.

The rest of the day passed rather monotonously. We saw no signs of activity out in the driveway. The dead must have moved on, figuring there was nothing here for them to consume. The accumulation of snow appeared to be a foot or more and was still growing. It came up past the wheel of Thorn’s Harley, and some of the drifts seemed even higher. The snow, I realized for the first time, was our friend, and these creatures would have a difficult time getting around in it.

Darkness fell. Gunner joined our card game once his kids had fallen asleep in the other room. Thorn got up every fifteen minutes or so and grabbed another handful of beers. I had quite a good buzz as the card game wore on. Dar hardly touched her brew, while Thorn talked incessantly during the game. I could tell that he was used to being the life of the party. Handsome and with a noticeable swagger, I pegged him as a hard-drinking ladies’ man with a quick line for every occasion. His stories and jokes were hilarious, though, and mostly bullshit, but he seemed to be a natural born storyteller. He boasted about having served time in prison for dealing drugs. He claimed to have completed a degree in English Literature from the University of Maine in three years, and said he’d written most of a novel, at one point asking if I’d take a look at it once we got out of this jam. He even bragged that he’d once won ten thousand dollars in a game of Texas Hold’em. At some point during the night, we switched games, and he taught us how to play it.

By ten that evening, we were all pretty drunk, except for Dar, who’d been nursing her beer all night. The fire roared and crackled in the other room, and we laughed, swapping stories and drinking lots of beer. For the moment, we seemed to have forgotten all about our sorrows and despair, and reveled in our solidarity in the face of crisis. When Thorn announced that the case of beer had been polished off, a collective groan went up. At that moment, Rick emerged from the basement, tired and gaunt. The light from the crackling fire illuminated his leathery face, which in the flame’s glow now appeared macabre.

“What the hell’s going on up here?”

“We’re having a little pity party. To the end of the world,” Thorn said. “Why don’t you sit down and join us, boss?”

“You’re all drunk, even you, Thom. I’m extremely disappointed.”

“Relax, Ricky Ricardo,” I said, holding up my can. “Grab a beer and chill out.”

Thorn picked up the empty cardboard case and held it aloft. “Any chance you got more brewskis, boss? Because we’re all out.”

A furious look came over Rick’s face. “There’s an army of flesh-eating monsters walking around out there, and you’re all sitting here playing cards and getting drunk? Do you think they’ll give two shits that you’re drunk? I promise you, I won’t bail any of your sorry asses out if you keep this up!”

“He’s right. We need to be prepared at all times instead of screwing around and getting drunk,” Dar said, throwing down her cards.

“Thank you, Dar. And if any of you other assholes don’t like it, then feel free to walk out that door right now.”

The lights flickered. We stared at each other in confusion. A strong gust caused the windows to rattle and the house to sway. Rick went over to the door and turned on the floodlight. The driveway lit up like a theater. To my horror, an army of dead were climbing through the snow and inching towards us. Some carried tools such as hammers, axes, and shovels, which indicated that they were adapting to their environment. They looked hungry and tormented, and seemed determined to fill their bellies. Rick raced over, grabbed one of the rifles and threw it to Dar. She caught it and moved over to the door.

“What about me?” Thorn asked.

“No weapons when you’ve been drinking. Now sit your ass down and shut up.”

Thorn fell back in his chair and sulked.

Rick turned and looked at me as if I were a child. “I’ll talk to you about this later.”

Rick and Dar stood by the door. As he reached for the door handle, the lights suddenly flickered and went dead. We sat there in complete darkness, listening to the groans out in the driveway.

“No one move!” Rick shouted. “Dar, come with me.”

Rick removed a flashlight from one of the kitchen drawers and tossed it to me. He grabbed another one and led Dar out through the kitchen and to the opposite side of the house. A few years ago, he’d built a cement patio and covered it with a metal roof. The roof had been built at a forty-five degree angle so that the snow would slide off it. He’d wisely stored his snowblower and other tools on the patio so that he could access them come winter.

Darkness blanketed the kitchen. I turned on the flashlight and directed the beam outside, illuminating the faces of the dead. Some were naked or dressed in underwear, or wore flimsy clothing. Decomposing faces appeared with bites and bruises. The thermometer outside registered eighteen degrees, and the wind chill certainly made it feel colder, but the arctic conditions seemed to have no effects on these beasts as they continued to high-step through the piles of snow.

I went over to the drawer and pulled out another flashlight and handed it to Gunner. Then I ran to the pantry to see what Dar and Rick were up to. Through the window I could see Rick cleaning the excess snow off his generator. Dar stood behind him, flashing the beam of light onto it so that Rick could start the engine. She momentarily lifted the beam of light up towards the backyard, revealing at least twenty of the creatures high-stepping through the snow. One gnarly looking beast stood only a few feet away. Part of its shoulder and jaw was missing. Rick yanked back the cord, but the generator failed to turn over. I opened the door, stumbled out into the freezing cold, and took the flashlight out of Dar’s hand. She removed the rifle from her shoulder, took aim, and put a bullet through the creature’s head. Rick stood up and stared at the dead man in the pile of snow. Gray brain matter sprinkled over the fresh layer of powder.

“I know that guy. That’s Eben Tedford from the auto body shop. He worked on my truck last year. Did a helluva job on it, too.”

He grabbed the flashlight out of my hands and directed the beam towards the others. “There’s Mary Dorr, the librarian. Jim Small, the postman, Larry who works over at the diner and made the best corned beef hash on the planet.”

“Shit, Rick, these clowns are all your neighbors,” Dar said.

“
Were
my neighbors.”

“Now they’re all dead to you, literally speaking.”

“Very funny,” Rick said, returning to the generator. “And yet I suppose you could say that.”

“Your neighbors all heard you were throwing a block party,” Dar said. “Bring your own ribs and slaw.”

“Good, hardworking people at one time. Salt of the earth. You might as well put them out of their misery, kiddo.”

“With pleasure. Because I don’t know these county bumpkins from my asshole.”

Dar raised the rifle and proceeded to shoot each one of them in the head. The snow was piling up so deep that the dead didn’t topple over but instead remained lodged upright. Jellied brain fragments dotted the snow. I pointed the beam of light further out in the yard and noticed that there must have been a dozen more of them right behind the ones that Dar had shot. She reloaded, took aim again, and began to fire away. When Rick pulled the cord for the third time, the generator roared to life. Suddenly the lights everywhere lit up, revealing the ghastly cemetery and the corpses casting long shadows onto the snow.

“That’ll teach those dead fuckers to mess with me.”

“Nice shooting, kiddo. Might have found your calling as an army sniper.”

“I’m not good at taking orders, as you already know. And I’m not about to wear some shitty green uniform and march around like one of them fuckers.”

“What you possess is a highly desired skill in the army,” he said, blowing on his hands. “Only problem is, in the army the enemy shoots back at you.”

“Yeah, but does the enemy eat you afterwards?”

“Point well taken.”

“My only goal in life now is to waste these dead fuckers and live to fight another day.”

“And when they’re all gone?” I asked. “What will you do with your life then?”

“They’ll never be gone. Don’t you realize that by now? Everything has changed, and these nasty things are here to stay.”

I could barely feel my hands, they were so cold. The wind whipped hard up in these remote parts. I needed to get back into the warmth of the house. The three of us shuffled inside, where all the lights had come back on. The snap and crackle of the fire sounded beautiful to my ears, and I held my hands out in front of the orange flames to warm them. The floodlight illuminating the driveway revealed an army of the dead, their faces covered in snow and ice.

Dar opened the front and screen doors. The snow stood up to her waist like a wall of white. The moans of the dead suddenly filled the house and scorched my soul. She lined up her first shot and put a bullet squarely between the eyes of an old woman standing three feet away. Rick stood behind her with fresh ammo, giving her advice. The sound of gunfire went on for quite some time. She shot kids, old women, boys, animal hybrids, and an assortment of other living dead that I couldn’t identify.

Once the entire lot had been exterminated, I went over and surveyed the vertical graveyard. They stared ahead, eyes wide open and frozen in agony. Many had bites taken out of their faces and necks; eyes gouged out; limbs torn asunder with sharp bone fragments protruding; stomachs with gaping holes exposing twines of rotten intestines. The strong gusts of wind caused their rigid, vertical bodies to sway slightly against the snow holding them in place. The snow kept falling in thick, star-shaped clumps, blanketing their heads and bodies.

Rick secured the doors. The expression on Dar’s face was hard to describe. She had the look of a hardened soldier after an intense battle. Her hands and face were red from the bitter cold, and her body shivered spasmodically. But she looked happy.

“I want everyone to listen up,” Rick said as we made our way into the dining room. “They’ll be no more screwing around from here on out. If you want to survive this ordeal, then you’re going to have to be on your toes at all times, ready to fight. Hell, I’ve been known to knock back a few cold ones every now and then, but this time it’s different. We’re going to need to rotate shifts, keeping watch at night while the rest of us sleep. Since I’m awake now and sober, I’ll take the first shift. The rest of you go get some sleep.”