After the Fall (17 page)

“Now we wait,” I replied. “You might not want to be here for the rest of this.”

“I will stay. She’s my wife.”

He can’t say I didn’t warn him. It happened sooner than I thought. She started to break into convulsions and thrust her chest toward the ceiling like a woman possessed. When the seizure ended, she went limp on the bed, and I knew she was dead.

Alaric gasped and rushed over to his wife. He started to check her vitals. I calmly stood in the background, shaking my head.

“Alaric,” I called out. He ignored me and continued to feel for a pulse. His head lay on her chest as he listened for the faintest sign of a heartbeat.

“You killed her!” he accused.

“It will take some time. She has to die before she comes back.”

“You’re a liar! You killed her, just like you killed my son!”

“Father,” called out the voice at the door. I couldn’t have a better sense of timing myself. He must have snuck in the house and waited for the right time to appear. With him came a pungent smell of ammonia, like he’d coated himself in animal urine to disguise his own scent.

“Matthias!” The big hulking man rushed over and enveloped his son in his arms. He bore it with the expression of a dutiful son. “Thank God, I thought you were dead. I couldn’t bear to lose you, too.”

“What happened, father?” he asked, like he didn’t know what had just gone on.

“Rhiannon…my wife…she’s dead.” The big man broke into sobs and hugged his son. He must have thought I couldn’t notice that self-satisfied look on his face. It was probably wise of him to stay away until now, because I would have torn him to shreds if we had been alone.

I had enough with the theatrics and decided to leave. The way was clear to the door, but when I came close to Matthias, he flinched away from me with an expression of horror.

“Don’t kill me!” he screamed. Alaric did the fatherly thing and clutched his son.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” I replied.

“But you tried to kill me in the woods. That’s why I had to shoot you!”

He sounded so convincing. If I wasn’t able to see right through his act, I would believe him myself.

“You tried to kill my son?” Alaric asked. “I took you in, we fed you, gave you protection, and that is how you chose to repay me, by trying to kill my family?”

He should have known better by now, but rage got the better of him. He rushed out at me and I pushed him back on to the wall. I looked to the bed, but Rhiannon continued to lie still. It was taking too long and now I wondered if she’d been too far gone. Maybe if Alaric had decided sooner, maybe…

The raging bull rushed out at me again. I shoved him into the far wall this time. His body left an imprint of cracks on the wall. That’s when I saw the gun in Matthias’ hand. With my quick eyes, I saw that he had planned to use it on his father. His hand was already squeezing the trigger when I shoved Alaric out of the way. I had just enough time to predict where the bullet would go and get out of its way. The blast rocked the chamber, but it was nothing compared to the blast that came next.

Matthias fell to the floor and I nearly went with him as the very foundation of the house shook. The blast was so large it felt like an earthquake. The bell outside began to peal out in panic. It might as well have been our death knell. I was the first to hear the people’s screams as the horde rushed in to invade the town.

Even now, Matthias was still trying to kill me. He raised his gun and tried to shoot me again. I ripped it out of his hand before he had a chance to pull the trigger. The gun felt nice and balanced in my hand. I squeezed the handgrip and gave Matthias a look that sent him scurrying out to the hallway. That was when I heard the thunder of the other blasts.

They went out in unison, and I knew the gates were being blown away, inviting the undead to share in a feast unlike they’d ever had, at least since the Fall.

The people in the streets ran and screamed. The impenetrable walls had been breached; their safe haven was no longer. I hoped they would be able to reach their underground shelters, but I knew many would die in the streets. Matthias was the first up. Alaric remained stunned from the initial blast.

“Let’s go!” I said. “We need to get underground!” I tried to lift him, but he was dead weight, and I simply could not drag him and Rhiannon at the same time.

“It’s no use. She’s dead. I might as well die with her. Just leave me here.”

“She’s not dead. Stop saying that.”

“I’m staying here with her. Let that be my last request.”

“Very well.” I got up and went to the bed. “You want to be with her? Fine.” I picked up  Rhiannon’s still body in my arms. Long strands of copper hair cascaded down my arms. She no longer smelled of death. It was a clean smell, a preserved version of her living scent. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy basking in her fragrance. You can call me depraved or twisted, but I knew that she was alive. Never mind that she lacked the usual requisites of heartbeat, breathing, or lividity. It was sleep, the deepest sleep she might have had since the womb. From now on, she would sleep like this every night, sleeping the sleep of the dead from dawn until dusk.

Alaric got up and followed me. He might have been resigned to die, but part of him wanted to believe me. I took the both of them to the basement entrance downstairs, where Magda and Evelyn had already taken up residence. Some devoted servants they were. We pounded on the locked door.

“Who is there?” asked Evelyn.

“It’s Alaric…and the missus,” he shouted. He then whispered through clenched teeth, “and one ungrateful guest.”

“I heard that,” I muttered in return.

“I don’t care what you heard,” he replied.

“It’s the truth. I deserved that.”

“Yet you show no remorse. You vile, repugnant—”

“All right, that’s enough. I guess I’m not welcome here. I’ll just go on back up there and wait out this storm.”

“No!” he shouted. Little did they know that these creatures wanted nothing to do with us. They would not attack unless provoked, and sometimes not even then.

“Are you inviting me?” I asked. Never mind the old superstition. This was more of a courtesy. I tried to remember who started that silly tradition. It might have been the Arab Vampires, with their hospitality customs. Once admitted to the house, they were guests and the hosts were obliged to serve them. Few of them actually knew that they were on the menu until it was too late.

“Yes, come in, please. Don’t leave my wife out there to be eaten by those aberrations.”

I stood there to consider this and took some sadistic pleasure in their impatience. The two women were trembling. Had Alaric not felt my strength firsthand, he might have tried to take her from my arms.

“All right. You’ve softened my heart. I will go in with you.” I strolled blithely, which added more grief to their already frantic countenance.

The two women locked and barred the two sets of doors at the entrance while we headed further underground. Alaric took the lead now, taking us past the majestic dining hall where the first dinner had taken place. It was still a beautiful place, but it had diminished, lost some of its luster. I wondered if it had been the fever working that night. This was the place where we had first met. All that felt so far away from here, millions of miles away in my memories.

“Mordecai…this way.” I snapped out of it. Alaric motioned me to the door on the far end. I followed him and held Rhiannon a little closer to me. She’d been asleep so long, longer than anyone else I’d turned before. I wish she’d just wake up.

We walked through the heavy reinforced door and into a second house underground. The two women barred this door shut as well. Alaric showed me to the main bedroom. It was a more austere replica of their bedroom upstairs. The smell told me that no one had slept here in a long time. I thought about lying here beside her, taking in her youthful scent. It felt wrong to do it, especially when Alaric was present, but he didn’t have to know.

I laid her down on the bed, slowly and reluctantly. It must have annoyed him when I lingered for a bit longer than I should have, but I didn’t care. I took another look at her face, noticed the small pin-sized freckles on her cheeks, the way her nose would curve into a point, and her full, pink lips. Her marble skin had not blanched at all. She looked just as she did a few days ago. Something about it made me uneasy. 

Summoning up all my willpower, I left them alone in the room. I felt jealous of Alaric,
angry
for some strange reason, like he’d taken something that belonged to me. In the old days, that would have been the rule. Those you changed were bound to you by blood. They were like family. Now it felt like I was leaving her.

Snap out of it, Mordecai.

I shook it off and walked out to the living room. Evelyn and Magda were busy tidying up, as if they were preparing for visitors. They were right about that. It was about a half hour later that I heard the steps through the walls. They were quiet, like scurrying rats, and I wondered if our undead invaders had not made their way underground.

I was the first to hear the knock at the door on the opposite site of the basement. It was soft at first, timid. I think they were testing to see if the place had been overrun. Evelyn ran over to the door and knocked in a pattern. Tap, tap-tap, tap. They tapped a complement piece in response. It reminded me of “Shave and a haircut.”
Two bits
, my mind replied, bringing out a short-lived smile and a chuckle. Evelyn opened the door and our guests began to file in. 

I began to realize that the basements of Jericho must have been joined by some interconnecting tunnel network. Survivors had the ability to retreat to another shelter if their own was compromised. The downside was that the zombies could use the same tunnels against us if given the chance. I could only hope it would not come to that.

I expected beleaguered survivors of the war taking place outside. Instead, we got the minister’s wife and her children looking no worse for the wear. She had a lofty, refined air that reminded me of the old aristocracy. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on her dress or a lock of hair out of place. Her children looked a little ruffled, but it looked like the signs of child’s play rather than struggle. I noticed the worry on her face.

“Settle down, children! I said, settle down. You’ll be the death of me yet,” said the mother, herding the children through the door.

I watched the small band of rowdy children trample through the place. They were so blithe that I wondered if they even knew what was happening outside. The older ones followed them. Six of them I counted, four boys and two girls. The oldest one, Jessamine, was the last one inside. Alaric locked and barred the door behind them.

“Rachel, it’s good to know you’re safe,” Alaric told her. “Come in.” 

She came in and made herself as comfortable as her band of children allowed her. They ran around and spilled a few things on their way, prompting Evelyn and Magda to clean up behind them.

“Settle down or I will whip you!” said Evelyn. That seemed to pacify the children for a minute before they returned to their impish ways.

Alaric hesitated a beat before asking her, “I understand your husband was leading the crowd when all this happened. Have you heard anything from him?”

That last question caused her to collapse like a sack of potatoes. She began to swoon. I caught her and set her down on a chair. She collapsed into it and began to break down in tears. Her whole world came crashing down. Even the children paused and looked at their mother in puzzlement.

“Evelyn, Magda! Please take the little ones to one of the rooms. Keep them distracted.” Evelyn looked at Alaric with sorrowful eyes, as if she had just been handed a death sentence. My heart went out to her, but better them than me. I’ve already explained my fondness for children.

Betrayal

Never play with your food
, my mother once lectured. I was never very good at listening to her advice. Jessamine walked by me and gave me that timid, subdued look of hers. I would have imagined her to be too distressed at the uncertainty of her father’s fate, but a minister’s daughter will be the same in any era, I suppose. She came over and clung to my arm. Her mother was so distraught that she missed the impropriety altogether. Alaric did as well, in his attempt at calming the grief-stricken woman.

I wondered at the fate of the minister myself. Like the rest of the people that were outside during the blast, there was a good chance that he did not make it. If he did, he was probably in a shelter that did not connect to ours. I wanted to comfort the woman, but I feared that I might be raising her spirits for nothing.

My thoughts drifted back to Rhiannon. Her body was still not reanimated. Alaric had already expressed his doubts, and I was beginning to have my own. This only proved that I had not reached Elder status. Those with such high status were said to be able to revive even a freshly dead corpse, to recall a soul back from oblivion. I had yet to see this happen, or find anyone who had been made this way, yet the legend persisted.

Our second set of guests arrived a short time after the first. I was the first to hear the hurried footsteps going down the tunnel, their harried voices, and the haunting screams. There was a trip and fall. A young girl began to shriek. I heard the ghoulish moans of their pursuers as they seized upon her and began to feed.