The Reawakening (The Living Dead Trilogy, Book 1) (24 page)

Night fell and all was quiet. The temperature dropped below freezing after the sun went down. Thorn and Dar gathered wood from the barn and added it to the dying fire. Rick remained in the dining room with us rather than retreat to the basement like he usually did. I thought it odd that no one questioned what he was doing down there night after night. Maybe they assumed, since he’d once been a scientist, that he’d been conducting experiments. But I couldn’t be sure. Nor did I care at this point.

We didn’t watch a movie that night. Instead, we sat around the dinner table, discussing what had happened earlier in the day. Maybe it was fear that necessitated human companionship. Or possibly it was much simpler: we were afraid to retire to our rooms and sleep. Near midnight, we struggled to stay awake. Dar retired to her room first, and Thorn naturally followed. By now they had begun sleeping in the same room together, which troubled me, although I never raised any objections about this arrangement. Gunner rose soon after and shuffled back into the living room to be with his kids. Kate bid goodnight to Rick and then went off to her small room upstairs. Once we were alone, Rick and I sat across from each other in the dining room. Our only light came from the two candles flickering on the table.

“You handled yourself well out there, Thom. That was a close call with the flyer.”

“Thanks, General Patton.”

“What? I just paid you a tremendous compliment.”

“I know a backhanded compliment when I hear one. You think I’m weak and spineless.”

“That’s not what I was saying, Thom. Why can’t a compliment be just that?”

“Because we grew up together, Rick, and I know you all too well. You’re the most competitive son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever met. There’s always a subtext behind what you say.”

“Look, I’m not going to argue with you tonight. I’m too tired and still have much work to do downstairs.” He stood to leave.

“You’ve spent most of the winter holed up down there. So what great discoveries have you made?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“No, not really. But I don’t want to go to bed either and keep experiencing these terrible dreams.”

“Come on downstairs, then, and we’ll talk. The truth will set you free.”

“Not like I have anything better to do.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve got a coffee pot downstairs. I’ll make us a fresh pot.”

“Fresh coffee?” I said, excited.

“I know I’ve been holding out on you guys, but I figure I deserve some privileges for saving your hides.”

“Stop talking, Rick, and get down there and start brewing.”

I was glad he asked me to go downstairs with him. I desperately wanted the company, even if I had to lay eyes on that sick creature writhing on the cot. Once down in his lab, the first thing I saw was Gunner’s wife. She was barely moving. Her face muscles twitched and jerked as if she was having muscle spasms, but otherwise she seemed calm.

We stood side by side and stared at her. She’d gotten a little paler and a bit more atrophied. Her severed neck remained hidden by the towel. Portions of her skull had been shaved, and a set of electrodes had been attached to the gray, rotting scalp at various intervals. The electrodes were attached to an electronic box, which was attached to the mainframe computer.

“Quite a setup, huh? In addition to analyzing genetic samples, I’ve begun studying her brain patterns.” He stared at me. “I’ve discovered some interesting things, Thom.”

“Like what?”

“Brain imaging is the newest advancement in cognitive research. While I was still teaching, I availed myself of a few well-respected colleagues in this field and learned everything I could from them. Combine that with my knowledge in the field of genetics and I figured that someday this research may be able to more accurately predict human behavior.”

“Is that the real reason you quit academia and came up here to live?”

He laughed. “Oh no.”

“I would imagine research like that might make you a very unpopular figure on campus. The liberals would accuse you of all sorts of crimes against humanity and label you a fascist.”

“True, but that’s not the reason I left. There certainly would have been widespread protest had it ever come to that, especially at that bastion of liberal politics.”

“Come on, Rick, all that survivalist talk was just a load of crap. What’s the real reason you came up here?”

“I had this visceral feeling that we’d eventually need to prepare for a global crisis or else face severe consequences. Of course, I never expected the dead to come back to life. Who could have ever predicted that? I suppose you’ll find this admission somewhat repugnant, Thom, but now that Susan is gone, I’m finding this situation to be the scientific opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Jesus, Rick! I do find that repugnant. What the hell do you expect to find? These creatures are primitive beings, programmed with one thing in mind and that is to consume human flesh.”

“Ah, but you’re mistaken in your assumption that these things are unintelligent. Research is discovering that there is a rich cognitive activity going on inside the heads of people in comas, and that they do understand what people are saying to them. They just can’t respond because of the body paralysis.”

I stared at the creature twitching and convulsing on the cot. “And you expect me to believe that this thing has complex cognitive functioning?”

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve been observing these patterns closely and recording everything.” He shook his head and glanced over at me with a curious grin. “This reenergized brain of theirs is an amazing organ, Thom. You saw what happened when the body got separated from the stem. It sent some sort of electronic impulse to the body that worked on a cellular level. Their brains are sending out weak impulses, electromagnetic waves. I’m not even sure what it is they’re sending, but that’s why the communications around here have broken down. Their brains are jamming the signals coming in and out of the house, which is why my radio is failing. These things seem to be telepathically communicating between each other on some very basic level.”

“Sure, and I bet they have barbecues in their backyard and toast each other with bloody marys come Saturday night.”

“Have you been experiencing these prolonged, minor headaches that don’t seem to go away? I know I have. It’s their brains causing it.”

I
had
been suffering from headaches, but I’d chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep. They were more annoying than painful, and a lot of times they simply went away.

“Have you considered that these things might possess a high level of cognitive functioning, Thom, but because they’re stuck in these diminished bodies, they’re not able to effectively communicate their needs?”

“And if they could talk, they would ask us to hand over our brains to them?” I laughed.

“Why must you be so obstinate? Look, I have been studying these brain images very closely. This is going to sound crazy, but they indicate to me that there is a high level of activity going on inside their skulls. It’s the interpretive skills that I need to bone up on in order to better understand what they are trying to tell me.”

“They’re saying ‘feed me’ over and over. Is it any more plain than the nose on your face?”

“You’re just upset, Thom. Upset and tired. Why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest, and I’ll tell you more about it in the morning.”

I felt bad about mocking my brother. I didn’t want to leave his side and be alone for the rest of the night with my thoughts. Sleep would not be forthcoming this evening, but I couldn’t stay here. I found myself wondering if indeed these creatures had thoughts, feelings. If these creatures were programmed to consume human flesh, did that make them any different from the sharks that cruised the oceans, the Bengali tigers that feasted on innocent villagers, or the grizzly bears that roamed the Alaskan wilderness? What about the indigenous South Pacific natives who practiced cannibalism?

I said goodnight and was about to exit the lab when I heard a grunting noise behind me. I turned and saw the creature begin to convulse frantically, far more than was normal. Rick stood and walked over to it.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never seen it act like this before. Something has gotten it highly agitated.”

It continued like this for roughly five minutes before it finally relaxed, and its movements slowed and became lethargic. Rick went over to the laptop and observed the imaging patterns syncing on the screen.

“Damn! Its brain activity just flew off the charts. I observed a similar pattern when that army attacked us, but nothing like this.”

“What the hell does it mean?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Jesus, Rick, that thing is giving me the creeps. No offense, but I’m getting out of here before I lose what’s left of my mind.”

He bade me goodnight as I headed toward the main floor. Despite it being very late, I lit one of the candles on the table and then walked around checking all the doors to make sure they were locked. Upon making my round, I noticed that the attic door was slightly ajar. Alarmed, I ran over and grabbed one of the rifles, and made my way up the creaky stairs. The air felt brisk the higher I climbed, and once I reached the top, I realized that the candle would not provide enough light. Every cell in my body screamed to get the hell out of there. But what if it was one of them? My heart skipped a beat in my chest as I listened for any sudden movement. I wanted nothing more than to run back downstairs and lock the door behind me.

I held the candle up over my head, as high as it would go, and peered into the darkness. What I saw shocked me. A pair of shoes dangled in front of my face. I jumped back as the feet swayed from side to side. Beneath them was an overturned footstool. I ran back downstairs in a state of panic and grabbed a flashlight. I called downstairs to Rick, and he came running up. After explaining what I’d seen, we climbed up to the attic. At the top of the stairs, I flashed the beam in the direction of the head and saw Gunner hanging from the attic’s rafters, his lifeless body swaying from side to side. Rick stood next to him, glancing at his watch as we waited for him to reawaken. After about ten minutes went by, Gunner’s legs started to move, and his eyes opened. Reawakened, he hung from the noose, perfectly still.

“I’m sorry I failed you. Please tell Emily and Amber I love them and that we will all be together soon. My mission is to seek them out.”

“Seek out who, Gunner? Who are you seeking?”

“In time that will be revealed.”

“What did you see? Is there life after death?”

“I saw beauty and grace. I saw a kingdom so beautiful, language would not describe it. I was close to entering before being brought back to find them.”

“Find who, Gunner?”

“Tell my kids I love them, and I’m sorry for letting them down, and that everything will be all right.”

“Find who, dammit! Who are you looking for?”

“Please cut me down.”

“I’m sorry, Gunner, but we can’t do that,” Rick said.

“Cut me down, and allow me to say my goodbyes.”

He appeared relaxed and calm. His hands rested by his side, and he looked peaceful and at rest. So did his expression, which just a few hours ago had looked tortured and aggrieved. Then he closed his eyes and fell back asleep. I wanted to know more about what he had seen and who he was looking for. I wanted to grab him by the collar and wake him until he told us everything. But experience had prepared me for the terrible transformation that would happen next.

It took a few moments before the secondary state began to occur. His legs and arms froze and became more rigid. His muscles began to spasm. His eyes flickered and then sprang open in a frightening manner. The skin on his body turned a grayish-yellow color and had the appearance of a bad bruise. Then came the moaning and bloodthirsty squelches. It felt almost as if he could smell the scent of our flesh.

Gunner had reawakened.

And then I realized something profoundly disturbing, something that for some reason I hadn’t before contemplated. Gunner had taken his own life. No animal had bitten him and transferred the contagion into his system. So how did he end up this way? How, without any possible way of contacting the contagion, had he turned into one of them?

Rick appeared transfixed at the sight of Gunner reawakening. He lifted the footstool and overturned it. Then he placed it directly behind Gunner’s convulsing body. It kicked and groped at the noose constricting its neck as if it were choking, but I knew that it was merely trying to free itself in order to feed on us. Rick climbed the stool and stood directly behind it. Once at the top, he slipped a hunter’s knife out of the leather sheath attached to his belt. He grabbed the creature by the collar, held the quivering body still, and then shoved the long blade into the base of the neck so that it penetrated deep into the brain stem. Gunner’s body instantly went slack.

“Aren’t you going to cut him down?” I asked.

“Nah, let’s leave old Gunner hanging. He won’t bother anyone. If he starts to stink up the joint, I’ll cut him down later and toss him out back when the others aren’t looking.”

Fortunately, none of the others had woken. We went back down into the basement, shutting the door behind us. Once inside, I noticed the fucker on the cot was writhing and grunting. Something had disturbed it in the last hour, and now we made the connection and knew what had caused it to spasm.