The Hell Season (21 page)

Got to calm down
, he told himself.
Conserve your strength. Because, ridiculous as it all seems, the fact remains that it’s all really happening. So you’ve got to keep your head on straight, stay in the game, play it out to the end, try to survive and find your way back to your family, wherever they might be
.

That did it, the thought of Julia and the children, like a slap in the face which curbed his mounting hysteria. He took in a few deep breaths, as deep as he could manage in his rather awkward position, went about the task of assessing his situation and trying to figure out just what, exactly, he was going to do about it.

The demons were over by the hole. He could see them by turning his head to the left. They were a good thirty yards away, their backs to him, completely ignoring him for the moment. He tested his bonds only to discover that whoever had tied him to the cross had done a good job of it. Try as he might to pull his wrists and ankles free they wouldn’t budge. Doubtful he’d escape his current predicament unless someone came along to set him free. Dana maybe? How did he know that the bastards responsible for tying him up hadn’t done something similar to her? He imagined that a full scale coup had taken place, that the Reborn were now in control of things within the Wal-Mart, that after they had knocked him out they’d incapacitated anyone else they saw as an immediate threat.

How could Gerald, a man he’d considered a friend, betray him like this? Did he honestly believe that this would be good for Thomas? So it would seem. At least the decision to not kill Thomas outright, to allow his death to occur by other means, boded well for the true friends he did have within the sprawling building behind him. Since the Reborn hadn’t killed
him
he doubted they had killed Dana or Tanya either. He had to count his blessings when he could.

The heat was a terrible thing. Sweat ran in rivulets down his body. The red sun loomed large and oppressive above him. As the day wore on the temperature would only continue to rise. If the demons didn’t get him then dehydration would. He tried to work up some spit to soothe his dry throat. Not much luck there. By day’s end his skin was going to be cooked like a Christmas ham.

Time passed. How much, he wasn’t sure. He drifted off. For a moment there he could have sworn that Julia had come to him, a knife in one hand with which to sever his bonds, a cold glass of water in the other with which to slake his thirst. But when he awoke he was still bound, still thirsty. Only a dream. The ache in his shoulders had morphed into a deeper pain. The sun seemed larger still. He spent the rest of that day drifting in and out of consciousness. No one came for him. The demons left him alone too. Eventually, there came a time when he opened his eyes, the lids puffy from the heat and the sun, and saw that the world was darkening. The air was cooling. Night approached. For that he was deeply grateful.

Again he slept. On and off. He would drift away only to have the cool night air wake him. And then the stress of his ordeal would once more usher him into unconsciousness. Water images filled his dreams, cool and restorative, drenching his entire body, soothing the whole of his sun-wracked flesh.

A great rumbling sound forced him to open his eyes. The sky was brighter now and filled with clouds. Dawn had come and with it another storm had rolled in. Rain fell and he opened his mouth to drink greedily of the fat, warm droplets falling from the sky like a benediction, unconcerned for the moment what effect this water—and, yes, it
was
water—might have upon his body, mind, or soul.

“Yes, drink,” said a voice from nearby over the tumult of the tempest. “Bask in the healing waters. A gift, from those I serve… to you.”

Thomas lowered his gaze from the clouds and the rain pouring down to the man standing on the grass before him. “Ron?” he said, or tried to. Nothing much beyond a barely audible croak emerged from his chapped lips.

His friend was smiling, standing there, naked in the storm except for some long piece of cloth tied around his waist like a kilt. Behind him stood the demons, towering over him, their spine weapons held loosely at their sides, doing that weird flickering thing they did. The very same creatures that had recently dismembered the man who now stood so casually before them, his back to them as if he had nothing at all to fear in their presence. As if he now trusted the creatures. Or controlled them. Thomas found the latter possibility more unsettling for some reason. Filled with a deep sense of trepidation, he watched as his friend haughtily gestured to the demons behind him.

“What are you waiting for?” asked Ron of the creatures. “Get him down from there.”

*

Thomas spent most of that day asleep on a cot inside the auto repair shop across from the Wal-Mart, the place that Ron and Tanya had used as a home and makeshift base of operations. When he finally decided to get up and move around a bit, he found Ron in the office sitting behind a desk that took up about a third of the room. He motioned for Thomas to sit in the simple but comfortable chair across from him.

“Hungry?” Ron asked him.

“Starving,” said Thomas.

After they finished eating—canned goods, of course—Thomas leaned back in his chair and stared at his friend, wondered what it was that seemed so different about him. He also marveled at how well he felt, like his earlier ordeal had never even occurred.

“The storm was sent to heal you,” Ron said as if he could read his thoughts. “A little favor I requested. My gift to you. For being a friend when I needed one.”

“Well… I…” Thomas fell silent as a blast of thunder shook the walls of the room. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.” While Thomas had rested, Ron had changed into an outfit consisting of dark pants and boots and a camouflage green tank top. He and Tanya had done their share of hording non-perishable goods and clothing while they had been staying here. There was even a small generator outside the shop which powered the electric hot plate used to cook the food and lit the small lamp standing atop the desk.

“These…
people
… that you serve…” Thomas threw it out there just to see what sort of a response he would get.

Ron smiled. “All in due time, my friend. All in due time. Relax. Enjoy the fact that you’re no longer up on that cross, that you’ve been healed. Life can be good, you know. Even here. Even now. If you’re on the right side, of course.”

He sipped at the plastic cup full of grape juice Ron had poured for him after politely refusing the wine he’d been offered. As he did so he tried to find some reassurance in the other man’s words:
The right side...
All in due time...
And found that he could not.

“I should bring Dana over here,” said Thomas. “Tanya too.” He was worried about them, worried about what might be done to them. They were known associates of his, after all, and neither one was Reborn.

Thomas didn’t like it but what choice did he have in the matter? Ron was being polite enough—maybe too polite—had even said “please.” But there was something in his tone that Thomas didn’t like, something that let him know there was really no point in arguing with him. Ron had the power here. Ron was the one in charge. He’d been through death and back. He’d been changed. He could command the demons. Who knew what else he was capable of doing? It was smart to stay on his good side, wasn’t it? Again, what choice did he have in the matter?

“Thank you,” said Thomas. He drank some more of his grape juice.

Outside the thunder roared, the rain lashed at the room’s lone window, and the day faded toward night as darkness claimed the world.

CHAPTER 9

Tuesday, July 20 to Monday, August 23

Thomas was up early the next morning. A glance outside through the front window of the shop showed him that the world was just shedding its blanket of darkness. Dawn was breaking. What would the new day bring? Nothing good, surely. Nothing good. Although he
felt
good. Physically, that is. Better than he could remember feeling in a long time. Minutes earlier he’d sprung up from the cot upon which he’d been sleeping in the main area of the shop, wide awake and exceptionally refreshed, no doubt an aftereffect of the “healing storm” of the previous day. Whatever the cause, Thomas rather liked the feeling, found that it was difficult to maintain a bleak outlook when he felt as though he could run a marathon without breaking a sweat. Or possibly even take on the entire group of Reborn singlehandedly in a fistfight. Or maybe even the demons themselves.

Now you’re thinking crazy
, he told himself. Followed by:
Crazy thoughts for a crazy world
.

Twenty minutes later and they were seated at the office desk once again. Thomas went about satisfying his hunger with great enthusiasm. Ron ate a bit more reservedly. After finishing off a piece of the bacon Ron and Tanya had refrigerated, Thomas expressed his concern for the well being of both Dana and Tanya. Just then there came a rapping sound from out in the shop’s main area. Someone was beating on the door.

Thomas sprang to his feet. Ron stood too, held up a calming hand to Thomas. “Please, allow me,” he said.

Thomas followed the other man out of the room, stood a few feet back as Ron opened the shop’s front door. And there stood Dana and Tanya in the morning sunlight, a trio of demons lurking behind them.

“Ladies,” said Ron in a magnanimous tone then stood aside as the women hurried into the shop. Without a word to the demons he closed the door.

Dana came to Thomas who took her in an embrace and held her tightly. She was shaking. Thomas could understand why. “It’s alright,” he told her. “You’re safe now.” But was she? Was anybody ever truly safe in this world? Negative thoughts, instantly dissolving. He just couldn’t hold onto them. Not right now. Not with Dana here. Not when he still felt this good.

“Ron,” he heard Tanya say. “It really is you.”

“Yes, it’s really me.”

Thomas looked over to where the two of them stood, facing each other, Tanya’s arms crossed over her chest, a defensive gesture. He thought of how good it was to see and hear her sounding like her old self again. Hopefully Dana would come around too.

She will when she's ready
…

“So, you’re one of them now,” said Tanya.

“One of who?”

“The Reborn. The bastards who put Thomas up on the cross, who stopped us from trying to help him. They’ve taken over, got the run of the place now.”

“No. I’m not really one of them at all. They’re quite pathetic, actually.” He patted himself on his chest. “Me, I’m so much more.”

Tanya opened her mouth to say something else but Ron turned away and disappeared through the doorway into the office.

Thomas looked over at Tanya who raised a questioning eyebrow. He just shook his head from side to side but whether the gesture was to communicate “not right now” or “I don’t know” or maybe even “don’t ask” he wasn’t sure.

“Here, take a look,” said Ron as he handed the binoculars to Thomas.

They were standing near the edge of the roof over the repair shop, the same place from where Thomas had watched the zombie horde do its thing some weeks before. He raised the binoculars to his eyes.

“The hole,” Ron told him.

He aimed the glasses in that direction. The demons were there, flickering randomly in and out of sight, standing near the edge of the abyss, looking as though they were waiting for something there.

“What’s happening?” asked Thomas. “What am I looking for?”

“Just wait. High noon. Shouldn’t be long now.”

As they stood there the oppressive heat weighed down on him. Had to be well over a hundred out, Thomas figured. One-ten? He didn’t doubt it. The air was still, felt thick with humidity and tension. He swung the glasses over to the left, saw a group of people gathered in the parking lot of the Wal-Mart. Before he could take the time to make out individual faces, Ron hissed, “Don’t look away!”