Wormwood Dawn (Episode V) (2 page)

It was pale white, at least six feet long, and its sickly white wings were wrapped around its body as it slept. Its face was horrid, like a cross between a vampire bat and the psycho mutant. Its mouth was stretched into a fanged grin, giving it the look of some foul ice demon.

Dan backed away, turning to Drew.

“Jesus man,” he whispered. “It’s like a vampire or something.”

“Should we kill it?” Drew wondered.

“Maybe Jake’s flame thrower would do it.”

Drew nodded, and the two of them crept toward the door. Dan grabbed one of the cases of beer, and Drew grabbed the other. They quietly put the beer in the Hummer, and Dan opened up the cargo area to fetch the flame thrower.

“I hope it still works,” he said, turning the valve on the propane tank.

He struck his lighter at the nozzle, bringing the pilot light to life. He slung the diesel tanks over his shoulders, making sure they were full, and motioned for Drew to follow him.

“Keep me covered with the shotgun,” he said. “Blast that fucker if it starts charging me.”

They returned to the back of the store, each of them scared shitless and having that creepy-crawly feeling. Drew moved into position beside the door, holding his shotgun up and placing his hand on the door. Dan readied himself, checking the pilot again, and pulling up his pants. He took a few quick, nervous breaths and nodded to Drew.

Drew pushed open the door. The bat-thing still hung there, slumbering away in its gruesome, devilish fashion. Dan stepped forward, wedging his foot against the open door. He aimed the flame thrower at the bat, gritted his teeth, and squeezed the valve.

The bat-thing let out a hellish screech as it was engulfed. It thrashed and roared, its fangs gnashing like a steel trap. Dan moved the flamethrower up and down, spreading the flames along its body. The bat dropped from the ceiling in a flaming heap, rolling over to scramble onto its four limbs.

Dan kept at it, spraying the screaming thing with flames. The bat’s giant wings burned away as its clawed arms propelled the thing forward. Though frying to a crisp, it still came at him.

“Shoot it!”
Dan shouted.
“Shoot it!”

Drew ducked down, blasting the bat-thing with several rounds as Dan backed away. Between the flames and the shotgun blasts, the thing was doomed—but still pissed.

“Fuck,” Drew said. “Run.”

Dan let go of the trigger, and the two turned and bolted toward the front door. Behind them, the bat-thing burst through the swinging door, letting out a deathly screech of pain and pissed-offery. They bolted out the door, turning to watch as the creature crawled on its wings like some fiery dragon from the depths of Gary Gygax’s imagination.

Drew blasted it through the door, shattering the useless glass. Dan let out another stream of flame. But still it came.

“Time to go,” Drew said, flinging open the driver’s side door.

Dan piled in the passenger side, crawling in the back to poke up through the sunroof. Drew fired up the engine and stomped the gas, just as the bat-thing burst through the door. The Hummer lurched forward, jolting Dan. They sped away about twenty yards, until Drew slammed on the breaks.

“What are you doing?” Dan said.

Drew spun around in his seat, slammed the Hummer in reverse, and gunned the engine.

“Shit!”
Dan shouted as they barreled right toward the flaming creature. He dropped back down into the Hummer, closing the valve on the propane tank.

The Hummer slammed into the flaming creature. They felt the jolt as their vehicle impacted its body. The creature let out another bone-chilling screech as the huge tires rolled over it. Drew slammed on the brakes again, throwing it into drive, and put the gas pedal to the floor. The bounced over the bat-thing again, nearly flipping, and sped forward another twenty yards.

Dan saw the creature writhing on the ground, the flames dying out. “It’s still kickin’.” He said. “Do it again.”

Drew slammed on the brakes, threw it in reverse, and went back for another splat. This time, the Hummer slammed into the remains of the door after crunching bones and flesh. He slammed it in drive, and pulled forward again, stopping after several yards.

The bat-thing was in a heap. It barely moved, and the flames had died out completely. Dan unstrapped the flamethrower and threw it in the back. They both grabbed their shotguns and got out, pumping them to be sure they had a round in each chamber.

The bat-thing moaned and squeaked. Its spindly wings, broken and charred, were splayed out on either side of it like giant spider legs. They were at least twelve feet long each, with long claws at the end of each wing finger. What was left of its head trembled, its wide mouth opening and closing as its long snake-like tongue sought out its prey.

“Ugly fucker,” Dan said.

“Worse than my Aunt Sheila,” Drew said.

They raised their shotguns and blasted the thing into oblivion. It squealed as each round of buckshot tore its flesh apart, flinging bits of white flesh everywhere. When their shotguns were empty, they stood there for a moment, marveling at the horrifying creature.

“That’s crazy shit, man,” Dan said.

Drew nodded, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. “Yep,” he said. “But that’s Earth now, baby.”

“Stellar,” Dan joked, taking Drew’s line.

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “Let’s see what else is in this shithole.”

“What the hell is the name of this little dickwater town?” Drew asked as they rolled down the street.

“No clue, man,” Dan said. “I didn’t see a sign. Probably
Shit Creek
or something.”

As they continued on, the woods on the left side opened up to a few streets that went to the north. On the right, there were empty fields with a few farm houses. Drew slowed down, looking at Dan for any ideas.

“Should we check it out,” he asked, “or just turn around and go on to Bedford?”

“Let’s check it out,” Dan suggested. “Maybe there are some people here.”

Drew turned left on the second road, gritting his teeth and smiling. “Ewww, people.”

There were several houses on the road, close together and mostly run down. Ahead, the two could see the beginnings of a small town, with a few signs marking small businesses. There was an old gas station—probably closed for some time now—a CPA’s office, and a church. Drew slowed down as they passed the chapel, reading the sign out front.

“The Lord giveth and The Lord taketh away,” he said.

“No shit,” Dan said. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

Drew stopped, staring at the church. After a moment he shook his head. “What?”

“The windows and doors are all boarded up,” Dan said. “But from the outside.”

“Maybe it was closed?”

Dan shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “It all looks fairly recent.”

“Maybe there
are
people here, after all,” Drew said.

Dan scanned the road ahead and behind. He didn’t see anything that would indicate life; no smoke coming from the chimneys, no recently parked cars, not even any bodies lying in the street.

“It looks abandoned,” Dan said. “But that church makes me curious.”

“Well,” Drew said. “Let’s see if there’s a town hall. If there’s anybody left, I bet they’re gathered there. I’m dying to see more people.”

Dan chuckled, shaking his head. “The last time we saw more people, they were trying to kill us.”

Drew continued on down the road, going slowly so they could both monitor the roadsides. Whatever the town was, it was a quaint little place with few houses, and even fewer public buildings. At a stop sign ahead, there was a row of brick buildings on either side. They would probably find a courthouse, a post office, and maybe even some survivors.

Dan reached into the back to grab a beer, popping it open and handing one to Drew. They drank in silence as they crept down the road, pretty much idling as if they were about to do a drive-by. There was no movement anywhere except the light swaying of the mostly bare trees. It was dead quiet.

“I know the world has gone to shit,” Drew said, “but this place gives me the creeps.”

Dan felt it too. He nodded in agreement, gripping his beer tightly as they rolled on. They eventually reached what looked to be the downtown area. Drew stopped in the middle of the road, eyeing the buildings on either side. Dan scanned the windows and doors, looking for any signs of life. Other than the flapping of a barber shop sign that squeaked, there was nothing.

Dan couldn’t help the feeling that they were being watched. Something was here, he knew. But what that something was, he couldn’t tell. He glanced up at the top floors of the buildings, where the offices and loft apartments would be. All of the windows were dark and covered in dust; some of them cracked or shattered.

“I wonder if anyone is up there,” he said out loud, talking mostly to himself.

“Where would they get food?” Drew wondered.

“If anyone lives here, they probably survived like we did. Stealing shit from stores and empty houses.”

He looked at Drew, who seemed lost in thought. “What’s up, man?” he asked.

“I’m still thinking about that church,” Drew replied.

Dan was too, he realized. It seemed odd that the windows and doors were boarded up from the outside. If the building had been condemned, or closed for some reason, it would make sense. But, from what Dan saw, the church itself was in good repair, and looked like it had been used fairly recently. There was no reason for it to be boarded up…

…unless something was being kept inside.

“Something’s in there,” Dan suggested.

Drew looked at him with an expression of realization. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was turned down in a strange fashion.

“Let’s not find out what that something is,” Drew said.

Dan nodded. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. A sense of doom swept over him. It was like a cold splash of water over his very soul. His teeth began to chatter.

“Alright, man,” he said finally. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

Without a word, Drew punched the gas, doing a squealing 180 in the middle of the intersection. When they were facing the opposite direction, he punched it again, throwing both of them back against their seats. They sped down the road, fully preparing to run the stop sign again. Why not?

Then, two pickup trucks pulled out and ground to a stop right in their path. Drew slammed on the brakes in surprise. Two men with shotguns got out of each truck, their faces angry and aggressive. Drew put the Hummer in reverse, looking in the rear-view mirror. Dan turned around just as two more trucks pulled in behind them.

They were trapped.

“Fuck,” Drew said.

Dan’s heart pounded. They were surrounded by hillbillies, it seemed. Angry hillbillies with shotguns and few teeth. The eight men approached the Hummer with their guns pointed right at them. Dan and Drew put their hands up, terrified.

“Get out,” one of the men said. “Get out and get on the ground.”

“Hey man,” Drew said. “We were just passing through.”

“I said get out!”

Dan and Drew fumbled for the door handles, stepping out with their hands up. They were shoved to the ground like sacks of shit, and Dan felt the impact of a heavy boot on his back.

“Looks like we got ourselves some fresh meat,” one of the men said.

Through the bottom of the truck, Dan could see Drew look in his direction. His expression was the same as Dan’s, a look of doom.

They were fucked.

“You’re tresspassin’” a man in a blue baseball cap said. He was dressed in holey jeans, a white t-shirt, and an army field jacket.

Dan and Drew were silent, trying hard not to shit bricks as they sat, tied up, on the curb.

“What the hell do you think you were doin’?”

One of the other men kicked Dan’s hip, forcing him to topple over. He got back up using his elbow, glaring at the man through his tightened brow. “Go fuck yourself,” he said.

“What’d you say, boy?” the kicker demanded.

“He said go fuck yourself,” Drew spat. “Don’t you speak English?”

The first man knocked Drew in the shoulder with the butt of his rifle. Drew groaned, shooting the man a venomous look.

“You better start talkin’” the first man said, “or you’ll start dyin’.”

Drew chuckled, looking at Dan. Dan grinned back at him. This guy was a moron, but he had a gun, and Dan and Drew didn’t.

“We were just passing through,” Dan said finally, “looking for supplies for the road.”

“It looks you got plenty of supplies in that truck,” kicker man said. “One of them flyin’ machines, too.”

“It’s called a drone,” Drew said. “And we were going to use it to scout for infected.”

“There ain’t no infected here,” kicker said. “Just us good folk, and… the kids.”

He said
the kids
rather strangely, Dan noticed.

“Well,” Drew said. “Don’t let us keep you from your kids. Just let us go and we’ll be on our way.”

“I don’t think so,” the first man said. “You’ll be talking to Mason first. He’ll know what to do with you.”

“Who the fuck is Mason?” Dan asked.

He got kicked again. It was starting to get irritating.

“Shut up, asshole,” kicker said. “This is
our
town. We’ll ask the questions.”

Dan bit his tongue, looking down at the pavement. The two men turned and began talking to the others, apparently deciding on a plan to summon this “Mason” person—whoever he was. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was quite obvious they were suspicious of Dan and Drew’s intentions. He watched as they searched the Hummer, pissed off that they were going through all of their things. One of them pulled out the big white notebook, staring at it like a half-retarded idiot.

“A… poca… lypse com…” he paused, furrowing his brow and looking at his companions in confusion. “What the hell is this shit?”

“Just put it down, Earl,” another man said. “Mason will want to see all this shit. They got guns out the teeth.”

“And a whole goddamn pharmacy,” another said as he slammed the back door closed. “They’ve got enough drugs in this case here to last for years.”

Fuck
, Dan thought.
There goes a month’s worth of scavenging.

The lead man walked away, pulling a radio from his belt and mumbling into it unintelligibly. Dan couldn’t make out any words, but the man kept looking in his direction, scowling. Whatever the person at the other end was saying, it wasn’t to the lead man’s liking. That might be good news, or it might not. After a few minutes, the man returned, pursing his lips in frustration and pausing before addressing them again.

“Mason will be here in a few minutes,” he said. “In the meantime, keep your mouths shut.”

Dan looked over at Drew, whose mouth was in an Elvis-like sneer. He glanced back, shaking his head. Dan turned and watched the other men as they went through the Hummer, struggling to free himself from the ropes that tied his hands together. They were on pretty tight; too tight to slip through.

“Dude,” Drew whispered. “I still have my Glock in my pants.”

Dan shrugged. He wasn’t about to reach into Drew’s pants for a gun; especially considering where Drew always kept it. Besides, what the hell would he do once he got it? Was he supposed to go hopping around backwards shooting everybody?

He shook his head.

After a few minutes, the rumbling sound of an old pickup echoed from around the street corner. A light blue truck appeared, with two armed men in the bed, and a man in sunglasses in the driver’s seat. Dan swallowed. This must be Mason, he thought. He looked at Drew again, who was staring with anticipation.

The truck pulled up close. The two men in the bed hopped out and waited as the driver exited. He was a slightly older man; thin, graying, with a denim jacket and old, torn up jeans. He looked like Billy Bob Thornton, except for his high hairline. Dan could just imagine his accent.

The man calmly strolled over to where they were sitting, looked them over for a moment, and turned to his cohort. “These the guys?” he asked.

“They were snooping around town,” the lead man replied. “We cut ‘em off right here.”

Mason nodded, turning back to them. “What are you boys doing here?” he asked.

Dan cleared his throat. “As we told these guys,” he said. “We were scavenging. Just looking for supplies.”

Mason knelt in front of Dan. “They say you guys have a lot of weapons,” he said.

“And a lot of drugs,” the other added.

Mason grinned, nodding his head and looking at the street before him. “You see, fellas,” he said. “I got a real problem with that. You come rolling into my town like a couple of thieves, toting around your guns and your pills. You robbed the gas station, and were likely planning on robbing some of the houses here. Am I right?”

“Robbing?” Dan repeated. “No, sir, just scavenging. We didn’t know anybody lived here.”

“That doesn’t make any difference to me,” Mason said. “This isn’t your town. You have no business taking anything here. Nothing here belongs to you.”

“Nothing really belongs to anyone, anymore,” Dan reminded him. “The world doesn’t exist anymore.”

Mason stood, looking around and sweeping his arms out. “I see the world,” he said. “It surely exists. And as far as you’re concerned,
this
is my world. You are not welcome here.”

“Then, as I said before, let us go and we’ll be on our way.”

Mason chuckled to himself, turning away and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think so,” he said. “If we let you go, you’ll just pull this same shit elsewhere. Us good folk don’t like strangers, and we especially don’t like looters like you.”

He turned his head back. “We take care of our own,” he said. “And we never let anyone leave.”

Dan glanced at Drew again. Drew was tight-jawed and quiet. That was a first.

Mason put his hand on the lead man’s shoulder. “Take the Hummer and park it in the garage,” he said. “We’ll sift through the gear later on. In the meantime, take these boys to the church.”

“But…” the man protested.

“You heard me,” Mason said. “Throw them in the cellar and let the kids keep them company. It’s time for them to eat anyway.”