Fallen Grace (13 page)

“C’mon Gus, you gotta shoot,” urged Nate.

Gus held the pistol up and aimed at the old woman’s head. “Firing!” he shouted in warning to the others in the next room. A moment later the loud crack of the pistol was followed by Mrs. Jones collapsing in the hallway. Agnes continued to walk toward us, unscathed by the final death of the other creature.

Somewhere deeper within the basement I heard Abbey screaming for Boggs. The lantern in the bedroom flickered and went out, bathing us in complete darkness. The moans from the now-dead-Agnes intensified as the rest of us fell eerily silent.

“Gus?” I whispered.

“Shhhh,” he answered harshly. “Everyone get back into the bedroom.”

Someone bumped into a wall and I heard Gus struggling.

“Fucking dead goddamn bitch,” he cursed under his breath. “Not fucking today, Agnes.”

The sound of bones snapping chilled me. I could still feel Gus in my core, and knew he was ok. Whatever made the dead what they were faded from my head as Agnes died for the second time.

Once things quieted, the door to the family room opened. Boggs stood there, silhouetted by the dim light coming from the wood stove.

“What the hell happened?” he asked.

“Where were you?” I asked, without a trace of kindness in my voice.

“I took Abbey into the tunnels. I couldn’t leave her alone, Zo.”

“Who was it?” came the girl’s voice from behind Boggs. “Who died?”

Abbey peeked around Boggs, trying to see for herself.

“Easy there, Abs. You don’t need to see this. Go wait on the couch, ok?” instructed Boggs.

“I’ll take her,” said Susan quietly as she moved toward us. “Danny, honey, you come with us.”

Danny followed her. His grief was overwhelming to all of us, and it became apparent just how young he really was. Another example of the unfairness of being forced to grow up all too fast in this new world. I watched as the two of them stepped over the mangled remains of the dead, and into the family room to sit with Abbey.

“Gus, Mack, I’m sorry I didn’t come to help. Abbey…”

Mack interrupted him. “You did the right thing.”

“We need to clean the bodies up,” said Marnie.

“Ayup,” said Gus. “Boggs, can you help me wrap them up in some sheets?”

“We have some tarps in the storage room. I’ll grab them,” said Mack.

“Zoe, Marnie, I’m sure the three of us can handle the bodies. Do you two mind getting some other supplies to clean up the rest?”

“Sure,” said Marnie. Her voice was filled with sadness. “Poor Mimaw. She never deserved this.”

Marnie took my hand in hers as she moved toward the family room. We both stepped carefully, trying to stay out of the scattered bits of innards that had poured from Agnes’ body. I tried not to look at them, not wanting to get sick in front of the others. My sides hurt from whatever the painful episode was that I had just encountered. My hip and head were still throbbing.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered.

I looked at her and nodded. “I felt it. Mrs. Jones dying. And rising.”

“She said you’d been touched.”

“It hurt so much; the pain she felt as she died.” I could feel my eyes welling with tears. I wiped at my eyes as I looked over toward the sofa, where Susan sat with Abbey and Danny. I didn’t want him to see me upset. He had his own pain to cope with. He didn’t need to know that his Mimaw had met a painful end.

“Why don’t you go sit down with the others? I’ll handle the clean-up,” suggested Marnie.

“You sure?” I asked.

She simply nodded and squeezed my hand. I walked to the couch, where Abbey was leaning against Susan. Danny sat at the far end of the sofa, looking forlorn. He had managed to compose himself somewhat, now looking ahead of himself at nothing in particular.

I sat beside the boy, wedging myself between him and Susan.

“Danny, I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice broken.

“She died in her sleep,” I lied.

“She raised me, from the time I was two,” he said.

“I’m so sorry. I can tell you loved her, and I could see how much she loved you.”

I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. From the hallway came a few thumps and knocks as the others moved bodies. The plastic tarps were crinkling loudly and a sickly sweet smell was already creeping into the room with us.

“W-w-what happened to Agnes?” asked Abbey.

I peeked around Susan and shook my head side to side, hoping Abbey would understand to not ask.

“Mimaw did it, didn’t she?” asked Danny in a hushed tone just below a whisper.

“No, Danny, no,” soothed Susan. “She wasn't your Mimaw anymore, honey.”

I turned to face the young man.

“Look at me,” I said firmly. “She fought it. I could feel her, in my head. Even after she had passed, she fought what she was becoming. She tried so hard…” I trailed off as tears began falling down his cheeks.

The boy next to me wasn't that much younger than myself, but at that moment he could have been a toddler. He needed someone to comfort him. I knew who he needed, but she was dead.

***

Once the hallway was cleaned, we all left the safety of the basement to go up top. The fumes from cleaners still mingled with that of human entrails and death.

Dark clouds had rolled in and rain began to sprinkle the overgrown grass around us. Mack and Marnie had suggested we make our way to S2 to join the others, since it would take a long time to clear the fumes from the basement. They said it was about two miles away and we should make it before dark.

My insides still hurt from my experience while Mrs. Jones had died. We had all layered in clothes and Abbey was wearing one of Danny’s heavier coats. He had insisted. I looked up at the darkening sky and breathed deeply, enjoying the cool, clean air. The backpack I wore dug into my shoulders, heavy with canned food and water. We walked quietly down the hill to a gravel road. We set out to the east, keeping our pace brisk. It felt like the temperature might be dropping and it smelled like it may snow. It seemed too late in the year, especially here at sea level.

Gus slid his hand into mine, his other occupied with carrying a sawed-off shotgun. I kept my head clear and my ears open for signs of unwanted visitors. Little tendrils of white puffed around my face each time I breathed out.

I heard Abbey behind me whispering about being cold. Danny told her, in a kind tone, to keep walking to stay warm. I began to think they might be smitten with each other. She was thirteen now, still so young, but naturally she’d be interested in love like any teenager.

“Look,” said Boggs.

As a group, we stopped. I looked in the direction Boggs was staring.

“It’s one of those big worm things,” said Danny.

“We’ve seen them too,” I said.

“What do you think they are?” asked Susan. “Some kind of mutant?”

“Ayup. That’s my guess. They look like grubs or maggots.”

“That one looked like it was feeding on the zombie back at the motel. The one that hurt Susan,” I said.

“Kill it, please?” asked Abbey in a whimper.

Susan raised the pistol she had been given, aiming at the large worm.

“No,” I said. “No gunfire unless we have to.”

Instead, I walked toward the gyrating blob of a worm and set my backpack down. It lifted its fat wrinkled head toward me, seemingly watching me. I sensed nothing from it. It made no noise. The only thing I noticed was a familiar sickly sweet smell. I opened my pack, never taking my eyes from the creature. I felt for the hatchet that I knew was on top of the bottles of water, and unsnapped its sheath all while watching the worm. I had an uneasy feeling that if I took my eyes off of it, it may strike out at me. The center of its face puckered, a small brown hole opening up into a circle that bore tiny serrated barbs. As I held my hatchet up, it emitted a hissing sound. I brought the hatchet down onto its back, splitting it in two. Thick yellow fluid oozed from it. Each end wriggled as if in pain and as I walked away it stilled.

“I don’t like those,” said Abbey.

“Me either,” I said, wrapping an arm around her. “Let’s get moving.”

After we had walked for about a mile, the rain began falling much more heavily. As the ground grew soggy, more of the worm-creatures came out from wherever they were hiding. They were thankfully slow moving and we managed to stay clear of most of them. There had been no signs of the dead, which made me wonder if the presence of the worms may be responsible.

It began to feel like we had been walking for half the day when Mack and Marnie announced we had arrived to the entry of S2. The only things in sight were some trees and shrubs, and farther in the distance a junk yard of sorts that boasted a small dilapidated trailer that had likely been an office. Something felt wrong, and I paused as Mack knelt on the ground to uncover the hatch to whatever lay beneath ground.

Obviously sensing my discomfort, Gus stood in front of me to look me in the eyes. He nodded once, acknowledging my mood as a warning.

“Mack, hold up,” he said simply.

Mack looked up and paused in his efforts.

“What’s going on?” asked Marnie.

“I’m not sure,” I said truthfully. “Something just feels…off.”

The sound of the wind and rain filled my ears, but something much more sinister was inside my head. I walked about twenty yards to my right, where only grass grew.

“I can feel them in my head,” I groaned. “Down there,” I looked at the ground.

“Zo? The dead?” asked Boggs.

I nodded. “They’re under us.”

“She’s standing where we have cargo containers buried. The tunnel leads to three of them that we connected together and buried,” said Danny in an ominous tone.

“Fuck,” said Mack as he bent down to open the entry.

“Mack, brother, no,” warned Gus.

“They need our help,” he said, his breathing labored. He continued to unbury the lid, now lifting it halfway off. “It’s not secured from their side. They’re in there,” he said with dread in his voice.

Boggs had rushed to Mack’s side. “You can’t go in,” he said as he grabbed onto Mack’s shoulder.

“Our daughter’s down there!” he yelled angrily.

I looked at Marnie, who had tears running down her cheeks and her hands covering her mouth. She was obviously in shock.

There’s no one alive,
I thought to myself, knowing Gus would sense it as well. The creatures beneath my feet were so incredibly hungry. They had eaten anything alive that they could. They were trapped now, unable to leave the room in which they were now trapped. They knew there was fresh meat nearby, and they were frantic to get at us. They were freshly changed. I could sense six distinct signatures; the exact number of people in the other half of the group we had just joined.

Gus was already on Mack, helping Boggs hold him down. The man was strong and determined.

“Brother, I’m sorry, but no one’s alive in there. She’s not alive anymore.”

“Gwen,” moaned Marnie. “No…not Gwen.”

Danny had an arm around Abbey, who was crying softly. He was obviously trying to be brave but his eyes were rimmed in red at watching his brother’s agony; at realizing his niece had been lost.

Mack continued to struggle against the other men. “I have to see for myself,” he said through clenched teeth. “I have to go down and see for myself.”

“They’re locked in,” I muttered. “But they’re working at undoing the grate on their end of the tunnel. It’s not safe. I know how hard losing a child is,” I continued, choking up, “but Gwen wouldn’t want you to die too.”

“Bullshit,” said Mack. “Let me go, or so help me I’ll kill you trying.”

I saw Gus gesture to Boggs, and the two men let him go. Marnie rushed to his side as he threw the hatch lid to one side.

“Please, Mack, don’t go down there. I need you.”

“You know I have to. If there’s any chance at all…” his voice broke off. He and Marnie looked at each other in a moment of silent understanding. Mack slid down below the ground first, directly followed my Marnie. I knew we’d not see them alive again.

“Danny, take Abbey away,” I said sternly. “Now.”

The dead could sense the living coming closer and it drove them mad with hunger and desire. I could sense their enthusiasm peaking as the pair crept closer looking for their dead daughter. I felt the moment they had broken through the grate.

Danny was running with Abbey toward a small grouping of nearby trees. Susan, Boggs, Gus, and I all looked at each other as the screams began. The horrible screams of agony as the creatures ripped into the flesh of the living with their teeth and fingers. We heard two gunshots fire amidst that screaming. We all knew, without saying so, that Mack and Marnie were unable to be saved. As the screams finally abated the groans of the dead took their place as they continued to feast. Once I became aware that some of the dead had already smelled the rest of us above ground, I ran as fast as I could to the opening in the ground.

“Help me with the hatch!” I shouted. “Oh God they’re coming up!”

Boggs was the first one to reach me, helping me pull the heavy metal plate over the hole. A small hand reached up, bloodied and cut nearly to shreds. Snarls of desperation came along with it as we put weight on the lid. The hand was stuck and Nathan used the hatchet from my pack to hack it off. The resulting anger from the creature it had belonged to ripped through my mind. I did the only thing I could. I sat on the hatch.

“How do we close it?” I yelled. I could feel the pressure of the dead forcing the lid upward.

“You can’t,” said Boggs, who was already sitting beside me in an attempt to keep the lid closed. “Not from out here!”

“Susan! Get your gun ready!” yelled Nate.

“I can’t hold it!” I yelled.

“You guys have to get off!” yelled Gus loudly.

Instinct told me to stay put, but I could feel the urgency within Gus. I could feel his fear. He was afraid for me, and for Boggs.