Resurrection (9 page)

“No I’ve got it old boy you just enjoy the ride.”

The duo pulled into Black Springs and turned onto the main street. The Jeep’s large tires rumbled loudly over the brick street. The city was dark as pitch and the vehicles headlights pierced the darkness like twin sabers.

Nigel slowed and then came to a stop about a block from the courthouse.

“I thought I saw movement at the theater.” He said putting on a set of night vision goggles.

He waited for a moment and then two Wasters came into view and then four more. They all turned into the entrance and disappeared inside.

We’ve got Wasters in the theater, might be a whole nest of them,’ he said handing the goggles to Mark.

“What do you want to do?” Mark said.

“Exterminate them of course. I’m going in the front way and you make you way to the back exit and wait for me to radio you then we’ll try to corral the buggers and get them in crossfire.”

Mark made his way down the alleyway between the courthouse and the theater. He noticed a Waster crossing the courthouse lawn and hid behind a dumpster. Once it had gone he located the back exit.

He entered the theater and stood gazing at the movie screen. He imagined the room full of movie goers, the smell of freshly cooked and buttered popcorn filling the air. A sea of faces lit by the screen their eyes glued to the action taking place in front of them.

He walked to the front of the cavernous room and peered out the round window in the door leading into the hall. Upon seeing nothing he quietly stepped out. As he was moving forward he noticed one lone Waster pacing around in the bathroom and decided to kill it so it could not sneak up on him later.

He hid outside the bathroom and waited and when it had its back to him he attacked, knife in hand. But the thing heard him and swung around just as he was about to strike. It grabbed him by the arm and he dropped his knife. It pulled him close and its jaws snapped at the soft flesh of his face.

He panicked, he shoved the creature and it fell back but did not lose its grip on him. He could smell its putrid breath its gnashing teeth coming ever closer. He managed to pull his pistol and he put it to the corpse’s head.

Blood and brains spewed from the back of its skull and it went immediately limp save for the hand which did not release its grip on him. He tried to pull away but it had a vice like hold on his wrist.

He retrieved his knife from the floor and started hacking at the Waster’s arm. Just then he heard the screeching of numerous Wasters coming from the hall way. He began frantically chopping his way through the flesh and hard bone of the lifeless monster which held him prisoner.

And then the horde came flooding in. Mark pulled the Waster inside of a stall and pulled the door closed and began hewing through the things elbow. They were climbing under and over the stall when he finally relieved the dead thing of its arm; but it was too late.

He climbed over into the adjacent stall and waited for the murderous fiends to encircle him and finish him off like a rare steak. Shots rang out on the other side of the cubicles deafening him and he managed get his rifle up and squeeze off several rounds himself.

Nigel let loose his weapon and copper projectiles smashed into the tile wall next to Mark’s head, and then the room was quiet. The smell of gunpowder burned his nostrils and Nigel kicked in the door of the cubicle waving his weapon around.

“What the hell were you doing Mark? You could have gotten yourself killed, could have gotten us both killed. I told you to wait for my signal, what the hell is this all about?

“I saw a Waster, I, I tried to kill it but it grabbed hold of me; I panicked!”

“Let’s get the hell out of here before something else goes wrong.

Chapter 21

He had made a rookie mistake and a bad one, one that not only put his own life in jeopardy but quite possibly his partner’s as well. He was put on farm duty at that point until further notice and was moved from the duty unit bunkhouse to the farm worker’s.

He could only watch as the unit he had become a part of left each day for maneuvers and training exercises. He vowed then and there to get his mind right and return to his unit.

He put all of his effort into whatever job he was handed in order to show that he was serious about getting back to duty. But after two months had passed with no word he decided to ask Isabel his possible return.

“I believe I have spent enough time at the farm and I am ready to take my place with the unit,” Mark said.

“Do you, do you truly believe that two months is enough time to repay your debt to your partner; to your unit?” Isabel said.

“I do, I do believe that I have my head right and that I have served enough time.”

“You almost got two men killed out there Mark, you and Nigel could both be dead right now because you could not follow orders. If you cannot be trusted to follow commands from someone of higher rank then how can you be trusted to give solid orders that won’t result in deaths.”

“I understand now, I realized at the moment it happened that I had made a grave mistake. I have vowed to myself to think as a part of a whole and not as the whole. I believe I can return to the unit and be an integral part, a team player.”

“You are dismissed Mark. You pled your case now go back to your duties” she said.

Isabel returned to her home that night exhausted and read to her children a chapter from Moby Dick. She had decided that instead of just reading meaningless children’s stories to them she would instead introduce them to classical literature and Moby Dick was just the latest.

She had only recently finished reading the Mark Twain classics featuring Tom Sawyer and his best friend Huckleberry Finn. She finished the chapter and tucked them both into bed and kissed them on their foreheads.

“Mama,” Luz said as Isabel was closing the door.

“What is it Mija?”

“Is daddy in heaven?”

Isabel sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed her daughter’s bangs back.

“I like to think so, yes I believe he is.”

“I think so too mama but…”

“But what?”

“Will we see him up there someday?”

“Of course you will, we’ll all be together again someday.”

“I hope so, good night Mama.”

Isabel went into her room and sat down on the bed, a single tear rolled down her cheek. She had tried so hard to forget, to forget everything about her late husband; it was too painful. She tried to blot him from her memory but the harder she tried the more indelible his memory became.

Eventually even though he faded from her everyday recollections he remained in a corner of her mind that she chose not to frequent. But now Luz had resurrected those old feelings again and once again her emotions overflowed. She thought that she had forgotten how to cry, that her eyes had shed so many tears that the river had become dry.

But now the river ran anew. She lay down and buried her face in her pillow and was overcome again with emotions which had not surfaced in years. She did not have the strength to suppress them and now they overcame her.

“Why did you have to leave us Eduardo, why?” she wept. “I could not save you, I was weak. I loved you Eduardo, loved you so much; why?”

Chapter 22

The rosary fell from her fingers and spilled like so many beans onto the floor. She covered her face with trembling hands as grief tore itself from her body like splinters of broken glass. People passed by her and kissed her on her head and as she looked up through tear dimmed eyes at the procession of mourners they seemed as poured plaster, alabaster and immune to her suffering.

They passed by her husband’s coffin in silent procession crossing themselves as they moved. They stood in groups in the corners of the room and spoke useless words about poor Isabel and how sad and unfortunate it all was. Her children sat at her feet not wholly certain as to what was happening.

She saw them there on the floor beneath her, her daughter Luz in her white dress, a scarlet carnation clutched tightly in her hand and Rafael silently watching as the parade of stone figures passed by his dead father.

Padre Ramone knelt down in front of her and her children and kissed the crucifix he wore around his neck. The words that he spoke were cold comfort, they would not bring Eduardo back and the words would not put her and her children’s lives back together.

His utterances fell to the floor in an alphabet soup puddle, scrambled and meaningless. He stood and nodded and two men slowly shut the lid on Eduardo’s casket. Isabel took one last look upon his face as the top closed with a silent thud that made her heart stop.

Padre Ramone passed the aspergillum over the sarcophagus, tiny droplets of blessed water glistened on the wood surface and then he took the thurible and wafted the smoke of burning incense over the box containing her husband’s remains.

Then, from inside the box came a slight movement and the bier shook ever so slightly. The crowd hushed their murmurings and turned their attention to the priest who stood still. He reached out a hand ever so slowly and placed it on top of the casket and waited.

There came a second shuffling this one much stronger and the Padre withdrew his hand quickly. He looked at the pallbearers and there came a rapping sound from inside the coffin. This time the crowd gasped and moved away from the box.

Suddenly it shook so violently that it fell from the bier and smashed onto the floor. The lid began to slowly open and Eduardo’s hand appeared in the opening. The crowd was silent as the lid abruptly folded back; Eduardo bolted upright and looked around as a deathly howl emitted from his gaping maw.

The crowd screamed as one and made a run for the exits trampling over one another as they did. Eduardo grabbed the still stunned priest by the arm and bit down on it. Blood gushed from his mouth and a hunk of flesh tore from the bone.

The priest fell to the floor screaming and Eduardo pounced upon him. Isabel jumped from her seat and screamed at Eduardo to stop, he turned and looked at her with garnet eyes and smiled stiffly.

He knelt in front of her and she reached out and caressed his cold, marble cheek. He moaned and his teeth gnashed and she ran her hands through his hair. She reached down subtly for her purse and her hands found the .40 caliber hidden inside.

Eduardo looked up at her and she smiled down at him. She pulled the gun free as Eduardo bowed his head and his hands clenched her dress. She placed the gun at his temple as a lone tear rolled down her cheek and pulled the trigger. Eduardo’s body slumped to the floor and embalming fluid flowed out from his cranium.

Isabel walked over to the still stunned priest and placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked at it and then followed her arm with his eyes until they met hers. She smiled at him and he slowly nodded his head and she placed the weapon at his forehead and squeezed the trigger.

His body tensed and he uttered a sigh as the projectile ripped through his brain. Isabel stood up and looked around the now empty room; empty except for her two children huddled in fear on the floor. She released the hammer on her weapon and set the safety and placed it back in her handbag. She eyed her children and motioned for them to come to her.

“
Se alimenta de la carne y la sangre de los hijos de Dios, vayamos ahora
,” she said.

Her eyes popped open and a cold sweat covered her body and she lay in her bed illuminated by a full moon and a verse from her bible came to her mind

“It is appointed to men once to die, but after this the judgement.”

But what of those who die twice?

Chapter 23

After four months on farm duty Mark was called to Colonel Martin’s office. Isabel escorted him to the complex on the far side of the farm where the Colonel’s quarters were.

She motioned for the guard and he walked over to the car.

“Who’s he?” the guard said.

“This is Mark Theriot, he was called by the colonel,” Isabel said.

“Wait right here,” the guard said walking away.

He entered the shack by the gate and dialed a phone; he nodded his head and then opened the gate and motioned them through. This was clearly a military complex, a small one but military none the less. Everyone inside was dressed in fatigues and barracks lined the gravel road.

“The colonel is ex–military, special forces before the plague. This base was set up after the misery and the colonel managed to keep it staffed and running even after the government had failed,” Isabel explained.

She pulled in front of a metal building which was somewhat larger than the others on the base and parked the car. Once inside Mark could see that this was an office and not having an overabundance of electricity the clacking of typewriters filled the air.

They made their way to the back where a uniformed man greeted them.

“Hello Isabel, wait right here and I’ll let Colonel Martin know you’re here,” he said.

The man left and when he returned he ushered them into a sparsely furnished office. A tall, slender man dressed in desert camouflage fatigues rose from his chair behind a metal desk.

“Isabel so nice to see you again how have you been?” He said.

“Very well Colonel Martin,” She said.

“How are the kids, Luz and Rafael?”

“Bueno, muy Bueno; growing like little weeds sir.”

“And this is Mark I presume; nice to meet you Mark.”

Mark shook the colonel’s hand and he indicated that Mark should sit. He motioned to Isabel and she quietly left the room. The colonel sat down behind his desk and offered Mark a cigar. “They’re quit old but they still smoke,” the colonel said.

He lit his cigar and Mark stuck his in his shirt pocket.

“Well Mark I heard about the incident at the theater and I won’t downplay the seriousness of not working as a team and following the orders of your team leader. The training you have been given has been for the purpose of being a team player.”

He exhaled a thick fog of smoke into the air and placed his hands on the desk. Mark felt a distinct tension creep into the room and his stomach dropped.

“I realize that you came here under the pretense of selling firearms but then decided to join up with us; are you happy here Mark?”

Mark paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes sir I am quite happy here.”

Then being here with a guaranteed three squares per day and a place to lay your head is much better than living out of an old pickup truck and going hungry. It’s a hell of a lot better being here than fighting for your life everyday against flesh crazed Wasters or raiders who are trying to kill you and take what you have wouldn’t you say?”

Yes sir I would,”

“Then If I was to say that what occurred at the theater won’t happen again would I be correct?”

“Yes sir you would be correct.”

“Good, then we agree.”

The colonel rose from his chair and sat on the corner of his desk opposite Mark. He twirled a gold wedding band around his finger.

“I was married once Mark had two kids, a home. I wasn’t home much of the time I was busy trying to do my part to defend freedom around the world. That’s what we did then we Americans; we defended freedom.

“Seems a silly notion now but that’s what we did. Now I am attempting to do the same in my little part of Texas, I’m trying to defend freedom here. Only now its freedom from zombies; a while back I would have felt ridiculous uttering that word in serious conversation. Freedom from raiders and murderers and thieves and I need good men and women who can help me in my quest; you understand Mark?”

Mark looked up at Colonel Martin and for the first time he realized that all of this was for real; all of it. This was not some dream and he was not sleeping, he was uncertain why he was just at this moment coming to that realization.

The gold band on Colonel Martin’s finger was a stark reminder to him of what had been lost by everyone and what needed to be maintained to prevent further erosion. He knew at that moment that this was to be his destiny; his calling was to save his piece of the world and possibly mankind.

“Yes sir I completely understand what you are saying Colonel Martin and what happened at the theater will not happen again on that you can count.”

“Excellent. Well it was good meeting with you Mark and good luck; you’re dismissed now.”

Isabel was outside waiting on him. Neither of the two spoke on the way back to camp, it was up to him now and he had to do whatever it took to keep peace in the area and follow orders.

But he had come to realize something in the months he had been with the unit; his belief was that the safety and protection the unit prided itself on was but an illusion. No one was safe here; all the guns in the world would not save this place from what was out there waiting to pounce on them.

He had learned that back in Louisiana, The Wasters would probe for any weakness and then pry and poke until that weakness became their advantage. The virus would not stop at the gates, it would return and when it did it would be devastating. What he didn’t know, what he couldn’t know was that out there were things far worse than the dead.