Threnody (Book 1) (23 page)

“You,” exclaimed John and Reams simultaneously as the image of the mysterious ‘rev’ they saw moments ago flashed through each of their minds. 

Reams, standing only a few feet from the man, took in the details of his mangled, yet surprisingly well-healed face.  It was soiled with the dirt and old blood that was requisite in the new world.  The skin and bone that should have constituted his right cheek were gone, as was a portion of the right side of his nose.  Through the defect, the inside of his sinus and nasal cavity, with its pink, glistening mucosa, could be seen.  Even though Reams was not a doctor he could tell that the injury was not a recent acquisition.  Despite the extensive damage, however, the most striking feature remained the man’s intense eyes.  Standing a couple inches taller than John, he possessed a similar frame and a commanding persona.  He looked strong, with the chiseled arms of someone who earned his muscle through hard labor rather than intense sessions at the gym.  Unarmed and dressed in dirty camouflage ACUs, the man seemed formidable and dangerous, as well as kind and compassionate. 

“My name is Ethan Long.  I’ve been following you since you left Hermitage.  As I said, I mean no harm.  I would love to talk further, but I feel it would be better if we continued this conversation elsewhere,” said the man as he cautiously nodded his head toward something just behind John.

Sensing that the man before him did not pose a threat, John stole a quick glance over his shoulder to see what the man was gesturing toward.  About ten feet away, a crippled rev sluggishly crawled as its useless lower extremities trailed behind, flopping and twisting at odd angles like fish out of water.  Turning back, John was surprised to see Ethan Long almost at the tree line.  Reams was still inspecting the front of his shirt as he rubbed his hands over his chest as though he was trying to clean a stubborn spaghetti stain.  John could see renewed tears streaming down his friend’s face, only this time they were accompanied by an elated grin. 

“I’ll be damned,” murmured the big man as he slowly shook his head with disbelief plastered on his face.  A look of relieved understanding spread across John’s face, and he urgently called for Reams to follow him.  Still smiling, Reams fell in behind John, who was already catching up with Ethan as he bounded into the woods.

John was impressed as he watched Ethan thrust the seven-inch blade of his Ka-Bar into the orbit of a rev before launching into what would have been a perfect spinning backfist, except that it ended with the knife buried to the hilt in the orbit of a second rev standing in his path.  In truth, John only saw the two revs slump lifelessly to the ground as the man’s body spun furiously between them, barely slowing his pace.  The ferocious speed and skill, unleashed without reservation, made John think Ethan must have had extensive training previously.  His unnatural ability to pick the best path while maintaining his speed through the dense woods left John feeling as though he was chasing a parkour runner.  With the raging fire of exertion threatening to incinerate their lungs, both John and Reams were relieved when they saw Ethan slowing somewhat as they neared the far side of the woods.  Reams amassed every last iota of breath he could and, amidst gasps reminiscent of a man on his deathbed, he said, “Eth…an, I gotta…stop…for a sec…just need a…minute.”

Chapter 25

October 17, 2015

Urgently looking for safety away from the horde at Al’s house, the three men moved through the forested area surrounding his property with the furtive legerity of white-tailed deer. In defiance of his appearance that more closely resembled a small herd of large animals than anything remotely stealthy, even Reams managed to move through the underbrush with a minimum of noise.  When they were a little more than a mile away, the density of revs diminished sufficiently, and they came upon a clearing that was mercifully devoid of the infected.  Ethan brought the group to a stop with a quick hand gesture before taking up a defensive position on the perimeter of the clearing.  After catching his breath, John broke the silence.

“Ethan, thanks for helping us out back there.  I have to admit, when I saw you in the house amidst all the chaos, I thought you were one of them,” said John noticing Reams breathlessly nodding his head in agreement.  “It’s been so long since we’ve seen anyone uninfected other than Trenton that…” John trailed off at a loss for both breath and words.

“No problem, I suppose I should have made myself known earlier, but you can’t be too cautious with people these days.  I’ve come across several other uninfected folks but most of them are just as sick in all sorts of other ways,” replied Ethan.  “I’m sure this didn’t help either,” he added gesturing to the chasmal defect in his face.  Reams had been staring at Ethan’s facial defect off and on since they stopped in the clearing.

“Yeah, out here in the light I can see it’s an old injury, but given all the shit we’ve seen since the plague started, I just thought…you know,” said John with embarrassment evident in his voice on account of his assumption.

“So, what’s your story? How have you two made it so far?” asked Ethan, unfazed by their reactions.

“I was out of state and flew in a couple weeks ago, just after this all started.  I was working on a reservation and did not have much contact with the outside world for a few days, so I guess you could say I flew into this blindly.  Reams is a mechanic at the airport and was the only other uninfected person there.  After escaping, we holed up back there at my friend Al’s place and have been searching the city since.  We set up a safe-house out at Hermitage as I suppose you know.  What about you?  You seem to handle yourself pretty well out here, are you military or something?”

Pausing as if carefully deliberating his next words, Ethan answered, “I
was
in the military, stationed in North Carolina.  I was on leave when this all started, and I decided I needed to check on my family—they live just east of Meridian, MS.  On the way, my truck broke down here, so after going to Mississippi I decided to come back.  I’ve been here since,” replied Ethan with sadness further darkening his already grim features.

Sensing there was much more to his story, but not wanting to pry, John let the conversation die off.  He had a feeling he already knew the missing details.

Tentatively, John asked, “Do you mind if I ask how you sustained the facial injury?  Was it cancer?”

“No, I got this in the Sandbox courtesy of the haji.  I was with a unit out on mounted patrol when the Humvee I was in struck an IED.  After I healed up, they made me a prosthesis, but I left it back at the garage.  I used to wear it all the time to keep people from having to face the realities of war, you know, but it doesn’t seem all that important to wear it now.” 

Reams chimed in, “Listen, I know it’s early, but I don’t have much more in me today.  Either of you got any ideas about a place where we can lay low for a while?  Or at least somewhere that doesn’t involve us running anymore?”

Smiling, Ethan said, “Your place in Hermitage won’t likely be clear for at least another day or so, if then.  Those things usually hang around until something draws their attention elsewhere.  I suppose I still have some balloons set up we could use,” he added thoughtfully before continuing. “I know a closer place a couple of miles away.  It’s nothing fancy but it’s safe.  Follow me.”

John thought back to the balloons he had seen positioned throughout Hermitage, and it was as if a key just aligned all the tumblers of a lock. 
The balloons were IDDs
.  He was initially amazed that Ethan had implemented one of the same tactics he and Reams used, but quickly realized that adopting such tactics was likely why he was still alive.  Luck was certainly important, but it could only get you so far.

A little over two miles later, the three languid companions stood in front of Elwood’s Auto Repair—an old, two-story brick building that looked as though it had not seen a customer in quite a few years.  The white paint peeled off the cinder block walls in several places, while myriad old vehicles that appeared to be well beyond the point of salvage were scattered about the property on the side of the garage.  “Here we are.  Like I said it, isn’t much, but I haven’t seen any trouble here since the first day.”

John noticed a bloodstained area of gravel next to a tow truck that was still hooked to an older model blue Toyota pickup.  Two other bloodstained patches of gravel lay between the tow truck and the door leading into the garage.  John assumed these were the result of the ‘trouble’ Ethan referred to as they made their way into the murky building, lit only by the scant sunlight filtering in through the begrimed windows.  Silhouetted in the beam of light, the dust hovered seemingly motionless in the miasma of the sepulchral room.  It swirled and eddied in the wake of the men as they weaved cautiously through the labyrinth of equipment and random auto parts.  Lengths of twine were stretched across every conceivable route of ingress into the structure, presumably serving as tripwires.  Gesturing to a staircase at the rear of the garage, Ethan gingerly stepped over the lines spanning their path.  They started up the stairs, careful to step on the treads just over the stringers to minimize any unwanted creaking.

Reams, who was last in line, inadvertently snagged the tripwire at the base of the stairs with his rear foot as he attempted to step over.  Not knowing the consequence of setting off the booby trap, he feared the worst as he heard a soft ‘click’ before falling hard onto the stairs.  Eyes wide and heart racing, he instantly rolled onto his back as he peered into the darkness, waiting for the spikes or blades he was sure were coming.  Thoughts of ‘The Goonies’ flooded his mind, as the most incongruous and disconcerting sound filled his ears.

“Don’t tell my heart, my achy-breaky heart, I just don’t think it’d understand,” crooned the tinny voice of Billy Ray Cyrus from the greeting card Reams saw taped to the wall on the side of the staircase.  Befuddled, his mind quickly shifted to thoughts of ‘Deliverance,’ as he envisioned the twisted redneck hell he feared they just stumbled into.

Almost as quickly as it started, the dreadful sound stopped as Ethan appeared next to the fallen Reams, and replaced the clothespin that separated the contact points of the switch on the card.  The ensuing silence was short-lived, however, as neither John nor Ethan were unable to stifle the laughter they felt as they gazed down at Reams’ flummoxed expression.

The big man’s bewilderment quickly turned to chagrin as he climbed to his feet and stomped rather noisily up the stairs to the second floor break room.  “Laugh it up! Country-ass, redneck bullshit,” muttered Reams as he entered the room.

Finally regaining control, the three men sat quietly eating the MREs they had in their packs, and discussing their plans for the days to come.  When Ethan asked John what he meant earlier when he said they had been ‘searching the city,’ John filled him in on the details of his family, as well as Dr. Lin San, and what they knew about the plague.

Turning to Ethan, Reams asked, “You came all the way from North Carolina, was it this bad the whole way?”

John again watched an immense sadness sweep across Ethan’s face like a storm cloud blotting out the sun as he began to answer.

“Things just started getting bad when I was leaving North Carolina.  Nothing like this, mostly a bunch of rumors and people generally starting to freak out, you know.  I didn’t see much out of the ordinary driving through South Carolina or Georgia, but I didn’t stop in either state.  I pulled off at a little mom and pop gas station just outside of Birmingham to fill up. The only reason the guy even sold me any gas was because he was an old Vietnam vet. He said things in Birmingham were getting out of hand in a hurry.  He told me a carload of kids from the city came through earlier in the day.  One of them was pretty sick and was apparently sleeping in the back of the car.  While the kids were in the station trying to contact the police or an ambulance, the ‘sick’ kid got up and attacked one of the kids standing by the car.  The other two tried to pull him off, but all three ended up getting taken down by the ‘sick’ kid.  The old vet shot all four of them and immediately closed up shop,” said Ethan in a somber tone.

“Anyway, after that I kept going until my truck broke down just outside of town, and I got towed here.  The tow truck driver wasn’t even on duty but, seeing me stranded, he decided to help.  From his accounts things were spiraling out of control in many parts of the state.  He towed me here and it turned out things were no better as the couple that ran this garage was already infected.  They pounced on the tow truck driver the minute his feet hit the gravel.  I put all three of them down before taking that truck over to Mississippi,” said Ethan pointing to an old Dodge pickup parked at the front of the property.

“When I got there everyone I saw was either sick, dead, or dying.  What I saw at my folk’s house, what I had to do…” finished Ethan, his voice barely above a whisper as he choked on the words trapped within the confines of his aching throat.

Understanding that everyone needed to grieve in their own way, neither John nor Reams pushed him about what happened in Mississippi.  His forlorn expression made it clear they didn’t really want to know.

As the sun went down, the warm, humid air was usurped by the crisp chill of the cloudless night.  While Reams was exploring the first floor, he discovered a bottle of George Dickel stashed behind the counter, and returned with his trophy like a proud hunter after a successful shoot.  John was absentmindedly cleaning a Pulaski axe he found squirrelled away in the garage, while Ethan lay on his back staring at nothing in particular on the ceiling.  Though none of them really drank, they decided that might be exactly what they needed after the stress of the day.

Sitting in the cool room, illuminated by the light of a small, battery-powered lantern, they contemplated and discussed the scourge that irrevocably altered each of their lives. Were it not for the macabre topic of their conversation, things would have seemed almost normal for a change as the men sat talking and enjoying a drink.

“What do you make of all this, Ethan?” asked John, curious to hear the new man’s perspective on the plague.

This time Ethan answered without hesitation, his faint southern drawl accentuated by the whiskey.  “I’ve been thinking about all this shit a lot over the last week.  The way I see it, this is a war like any other.  Well, maybe not like any other, but we
are
at war.  Now I don’t know why in the hell those things are whatever the hell they are, but I’ve seen an ass-load of them over the last week, and I’ve watched a lot of people get taken down by them too. Every time I see it happen I feel that much further away from the possibility of it happening to me,” said Ethan as the three men sat drinking in the quiet respite and the warm liquor.

“How does that make any sense?” asked John rather incredulously. 

“Now listen, I don’t like this shit any more than either of you, but the way I see it, looking the other way or trying to pretend it isn’t happening is about the dumbest thing you can do.  All the horrors, tragic endings, and untimely deaths may seem senseless – and maybe they are – but I tend to think there is value in everything, even in this horrific bullshit,” continued Ethan as he motioned toward the world outside and the carnage strewn across the landscape as far as the eye could see. 

“Take that guy back at your buddy’s house.  What was his name, Trenton?  Did you ever consider that maybe part of the reason he got taken down by the ‘revs,’ as you call them, was so that you could live?  A fellow can’t afford more than one mistake when it comes to those things and his was clearly made.  There ain’t a damn thing anyone could have done to save him.  Any promise his future held went straight down the gullet of the rotten, shit-smelling rev that took the first bite.”

John and Reams could sense that Ethan was just getting started as he continued his rodomontade in an increasingly animated tone.  “I watched an acquaintance of mine get taken out on the second day, and I thought ‘I can look away while that rotting ass goes all Shoney’s buffet on him – pretend it never happened, or I can honor his death by learning from his mistake and living to soldier on another day.’  That, and put a bullet straight into his brainpan so he doesn’t have relive the whole thing from the other side of the table—no pun intended.”

With all the fervor of a high school football coach trying to rally the team to win the big game, Ethan continued, “You see, in any engagement you
must
know your enemy; this is no different.  One cannot engage these things in the same way that one would engage a traditional enemy.  In reality, they are both easier and harder to fight.  Easier because they are slow, dumb, and predictable; at best they are as strong as the person they were before.  Harder because there is no room for error; one little bite and you are as good as dead.  In an engagement with normal humans, one can take an impressive amount of injury and still live—penetrating injuries, amputations, and insane amounts of blunt force trauma. But with this plague, or whatever it is, one tiny bite and it’s game over,” said Ethan as he looked at Reams with a self-satisfied, shit-eating grin.