World Memorial (19 page)

Dalton panted with effort. "You know we're running toward the people who took Zach, right?"

"At least they're alive," said Maylee, looking to each side as she ran. Corpses were closing in everywhere she looked. They stumbled and lurched through the snow, their groans echoing among the trees. Looking ahead, Maylee saw movement through the light in the church windows. Human movement, not the lurching of corpses. She hoped they would be friendly. Hoped Zach was wrong to fear them.

Part of her worried Zach was right.

She pushed the thought down and she and Dalton kept running.

Suddenly Dalton dropped from sight, crying out as he fell. Maylee skidded to a stop in the snow, spinning around. Dalton clutched the ground, his legs hidden down a hole in the ground. Maylee ran back, suddenly noticing the old gravestones placed around the area.

"The hell?" said Dalton, struggling to pull himself out of the hole. He pawed at the snow with his gloved hands. The corpses around them came closer.

"It's a graveyard," said Maylee, dropping her bat and kneeling to help. She grabbed his arms and pulled. "All the graves would have opened up years ago. They were probably left that way."

"Graveyard?" said Dalton, struggling against the snow. "Well how nice for us." The groans of the corpses around them grew closer.

"Relax. All the corpses climbed out years ago." Maylee pulled Dalton the rest of the way out.

Dalton stood, brushing snow off his coat. He pointed, eyes wide. "Behind you!"

Still kneeling, Maylee looked behind her. One corpse had reached them, a woman with red hair and one arm ripped and hanging half off, only tendons and fibers holding it in place. She wore some sort of uniform, but it  was too ragged to tell what her duties had once been.
C,
read the nametag dangling from her ample dead breasts. The rest of the tag was gone.

C
reached down with her good hand, clutching at Maylee, who snatched her bat up from the ground and slammed it across the woman's knees. She fell forward, over Maylee and into the grave. She thrashed around in the snow, clawing at the walls. Maylee braced for it to climb back out, then realized it couldn't. It was stuck, pawing at the icy walls of the hole.

The surrounding corpses were closer than ever now, closing in on every side but one. The church.

She jumped up. "Keep going! Run!"

She and Dalton ran, dodging headstones and watching for holes. It slowed them more than Maylee liked, but falling again would slow them more. The corpses groaned, following. The church bobbed in Maylee's vision, her own breath panting in her ears.

Another corpse, an old man with teeth so rotten they had formed points, came up from one side. Maylee swung at him as she ran and the man's rotten head exploded when the bat hit, spreading black gunk across a nearby headstone.

The wind picked up, shaking the trees. A huge gust ripped around the tombstones. Maylee stumbled, sliding across the snow for a few seconds before she corrected herself. "Hurry Dalton!" she said, running harder. "We have to get to the church before the storm starts!"

The wind picked up further, sending clouds of snow in all directions. Maylee ducked around a headstone and jumped over a fallen one. The snow where she landed shifted and gave way. She dropped downward, into what she now realized was a grave.

"Dammit!" she yelled, clawing at the icy sides. They were too slick to gain any traction. She pawed anyway. The wind whipped by overhead and corpse groans came from everywhere.

She struggled for a few seconds longer, then felt movement underneath her. Her chest grew tight as she remembered the other grave, how the corpse had fallen in and not been able to get out.

She looked down to see a corpse's head come up through the snow. It had once been a middle aged woman. Her eyes were gone, the empty sockets packed with black stained snow. The woman growled at Maylee, stretching her withered hand from the snow and reaching for her.

"Shit fuck!" yelled Maylee, slamming downward with her bat. The end of the bat thudded into the woman's forehead, sending a sharp crack throughout the grave. The woman fell back under the snow but kept moving.

Maylee turned back to claw at the snow, her hands sliding uselessly over the slick ice.

From above she heard Dalton yelling through the groans and growing wind. "Maylee! Where are you?"

"Here!" yelled Maylee as a new idea occurred to her. She brought her bat up and slammed into the ice. The nails dug in and held the bat in place. Maylee began to pull herself up.

Hissing came from below her. Still holding the bat, Maylee looked down and behind her. The woman had pulled herself from the snow. She had both hands free now, and was clawing at Maylee. Dead fingers closed on Maylee's pants. The woman groaned and pulled.

Maylee's grip came loose and she fell back into the grave. The woman groaned and leaned in to bite. Maylee shoved herself away and grabbed the bat. She wrenched it free from the wall and slammed down on the woman. The woman jerked and fell back into the snow. Black ooze seeped from cracks in the woman’s forehead but she kept moving.

"Fuck me, you're hard headed," said Maylee, panting down at her. She stomped down with her boot, pushing the woman further down. The woman hissed and bit at Maylee, but was too buried to move.

Maylee turned back to the grave walls. She swung upward at the ice, just as Dalton appeared at the edge.

"Whoa!" he said, jumping back as the nails thudded into the ice inches from him. "Watch it!"

"Dalton!" yelled Maylee, letting go of the bat and reaching up for him. "Give me a hand and hurry! There's one down here!"

Dalton dropped to his knees. "Crap! Here!"

He reached down to grab Maylee's upraised arms and pulled. Maylee, surprised at how strong her little brother had become, dug her feet into the ice and started climbing.

"I thought you said they all climbed out," said Dalton, grunting with the effort.

"This one must have fallen in and—”

"And got snowed on so much she couldn't get out?"

"No one said they were fucking geniuses. Pull!"

Dalton did. Maylee kicked at the walls as Dalton pulled backward. A few more inches and she was out, on her knees in the snow. The wind was howling now. Dalton stood while she turned around on her knees to retrieve her bat. She pulled it from the ice, stood, and looked around. The corpses were close. So was the church.

"We gotta move."

A huge gust of wind tore through the graveyard, nearly knocking them over. The corpses groaned and stumbled in the wind.

"Maylee..."

"Scratch that," said Maylee. The trees at the edge of the field began to shake. “Down!"

Both she and Dalton fell flat on the snow as the windstorm started. The wind howled and roared overhead, shaking headstones and drowning out the groans.

The wind whipped around the graves, changing direction every few seconds. Maylee pressed herself downward as hard as she could, digging her fingers into the snow. Even with her gloves on, her digits were freezing. She could hear Dalton shouting next to her but couldn't make out his words. Corpses were falling and sliding through the snow, moving in every direction.

Daltons screamed louder. Maylee lifted her head higher, straining against the wind. Ice pelted and stung her face. She finally found Dalton. He was further away than when the storm had started, telling Maylee he'd already lost his hold once. The wind tore at him, whipping him this way and that. One headstone, ancient and heavy, started to topple towards him. Dalton screamed and let go of the ground. The wind shoved him toward Maylee.

Maylee let go with one hand and grabbed his arm. The force almost tore her arm off. She tried to hold on with her free hand but couldn't. Her hand came free and they both went sliding across the snow, buffeted in so many directions that Maylee lost track. The wind howled and whistled among the graves. Corpses slid around them, groaning and hissing as they passed.

Maylee screamed into the chaos, waiting for the moment they collided with a corpse or fell into another grave.

* * *

Sister Elizabeth played the last chords of another hymn. The flock finished the last note of their singing. Several had hands in the air, praising God and weeping openly. The joy was back and Brother Joel rejoiced to see it.

He let the moment linger. People whispered and prayed, holding out their hands to God. Fervent mutterings of "Praise Jesus" and "Thank you God" filled the room. It gave Brother Joel chills, even after all these years.

A few moments passed. The prayers and praise died down. The corpses groaned from their chains on the walls. Brother Joel stepped forward, wiping honest tears from his eyes.

"Brothers and Sisters," said Brother Joel, "God has given us this moment."

"Amen," said a Sister in the crowd.

"But more than this, God has given us dreams and visions. Sister Elizabeth was the first to get the message."

"Praise Jesus," said a Brother.

"She saw the special ones. The children. The lost lambs who God has given us that we may have His blessing. That we may have power and dominion over the rotting flesh that threatens to swarm this world."

"Amen!"

“And He gave us the understanding. The understanding of the deep things of His word. The deep wonders of its meaning. What was hidden to others, has been revealed unto us. Us, Brothers and Sisters!"

"Praise God!"

"Yes," said Joel, "Praise God." He looked to the two men who had helped him set up the room earlier. "Brothers, bring the child."

The two men moved quickly but quietly to a second side room in the back of the sanctuary. Sister Elizabeth played a wandering, contemplative version of the last hymn. While the flock raised their hands and praised God, the two men quietly entered the side room.

A few seconds of music and praise passed. The men returned, leading a young boy with them. The young boy was dressed in a worn but clean white robe, his hands clasped in front of him, covered by long sleeves. Zach was his name. Brother Joel made sure to learn their names. They were all so special. So important.

He smiled at Zach as they led him up the sanctuary. Zach was scared. The corpses chained to the walls groaned and pulled against their bonds. The people saw Zach and rejoiced. Brother Joel's smile grew. His heart swelled. Zach was one of the children from Sister Elizabeth's visions. Truly God had blessed them.

"Up here, little one," said Brother Joel. The two men brought Zach to the steps that led to the pulpit. Zach glared up at Brother Joel.

"Oh, don't be afraid, child," said Brother Joel. "You are the most precious person in this room."

"I don't want to be," said Zach, not dropping his glare. His voice was low, low enough that the others couldn't hear. Brother Joel was glad for that.

"Many are called but few are chosen, child," said Brother Joel.

"I don't care," said Zach.

Brother Joel's smile almost faltered. He directed it to the two men at Zach's sides. "Help the child up, won't you Brothers?"

The two men led Zach up the stairs. Brother Joel was glad the flock couldn't see Zach struggle. The flock did not need to see. They needed to be ready to receive the blessing.

The two men positioned Zach next to Brother Joel. Brother Joel put a hand on the boy's head. Zach tried to pull away, but the two men held him by the shoulders.

"Brothers and Sisters," said Brother Joel, raising his voice so the flock could hear. "Let us rejoice."

"Amen!"

"Praise the Lord!"

"Before our Lord was to be made an offering for our sins, he gathered his people together. And he fed them. But as he fed them, he told them things that must have seemed like lunacy at the time."

"Praise Jesus!"

"
This bread is my body, this wine is my blood!
What could it mean, Brothers and Sisters? What could it mean?"

"Amen!"

"The answer, of course, became clear later. The Lord was to be no longer with us in body, but would be with us in spirit. And we can share in His power, His glory, by eating and drinking of the Holy Supper. Of Communion" And here Brother Joel nodded to two Sisters in the flock, sitting in the front most left pew. They hurried to the pulpit.

"Praise the Lord!" said a Sister in the flock.

"And there were those who said it was just wine and just bread," Brother Joel continued. "And they said it stopped with our Lord. They said it was just a metaphor. But the deep things of the Lord are hidden from fools!"

The two Sisters made their way to the large wooden cross at the back of the pulpit. They undid the latches that held it in place and lowered it down, laying it across the floor.

Brother Joel raised his voice higher. "The devil has made the dead walk. The devil has tried to destroy God's people. But he has failed."

"Amen!"

"For God Almighty has placed power in these children, just like precious Zach here." Brother Joel took his hand from Zach's head and used it to indicate the child.

"Praise the Lord!"

"God has given this boy power over the dead. As a sign and a testament to His unimaginable power."

"Praise Jesus!"

Brother Joel held up both hands. The flock fell silent. "And, He has given us the template for how to unlock it for ourselves."

The two men led Zach to the cross. They forced him to his knees and laid him back across the wood. They pulled the sleeves back from Zach's wrists and undid the rope that had bound his hands together. The stretched out both his arms and tied them to either side of the crossbeam. They tied his feet to the bottom. They moved quickly and expertly, barely hindered by Zach's struggles.

"Stop it!" yelled Zach.

"Praise God!" yelled a Brother in the flock.

The two Brothers and two Sisters lifted the cross up, Zach and all. Zach struggled and cried out. Sister Elizabeth began playing a beautiful melody of praise. The flock praised God, weeping with joy.

The men and women latched the cross back in place, Zach struggling against the straps the whole time. Sister Elizabeth played and the people wept. The corpses groaned from the walls.