(Book 2)What Remains Page 3

  My body burned in homage to this carnage. Air tainted with smoldering death painfully inflated my lungs. These tired legs that carried me spasmed with desire for surrender. I almost missed hearing the rhythmic crunching sound from the gravel-laden grounded because somehow I was completely deaf. Warmth from the blood dripping down my ears immediately reminded me why I could no longer hear.

  The searing wreckage of a vehicular blockade waited ahead. I contorted my stiff body to navigate through it. Inside, the desire to pass this wall was equivalent to my longing to be home.

  “If I make it past the crossing then I can save them,” I muttered under painful breaths.

  The road was split into sections because of the never-ending line of metal I had been following. My eyes found distraction in the rail for a moment, diverting my attention long enough to miss the massacre of obstacles.

  A steaming pulp of torso was impaled on the car I leaned against. An arm was still attached to the hunk of humanity. It twitched spasmodically against the steering wheel inside. Muted honks from the car’s horn punctuated the roar of my deafness. I could hardly believe that God had allowed what I was seeing to be reality.

  Just beyond the crossing, a ghoulish figure awaited me. It looked like a man but I knew it could not be. Bubbling flesh covered its feral visage. Flames trailed from the beast’s hair down to its melting clothing. I anticipated attack. My Kukri was gripped tightly in my tired digits.

  Then it stopped. It raised a steaming hand and pointed directly at me. Charring flesh flaked off its finger exposing bone. I was frozen with fear.

  Its mouth opened, and smoke plumed from its jaws. The smoldering demon rushed at me suddenly. My brain screamed for me to use the Kukri in defense, but I stood still as the hellion descended upon my soul.

  Now awake from the nightmare, my eyes shot open in the darkness. Sweat dampened the soft surroundings of my bed. I was convinced that dreams like the one I had just escaped would never leave me. It wasn’t enough that I had to actually fight through such madness in order to reach home. Now that I had reached my destination, I knew the memories of what I witnessed along the way would forever be the subject of my mind’s twisted self-loathing.

  1300 hours:

  Our home had been converted into a desperate homage to paranoia. We started our family in a quaint, three bedroom ranch house, and had grown and flourished there. The need to move onto something bigger had existed for a few years when the pandemic hit. Even though the primary excuse not to leave was always finances, the real reason was that it was our home.

  While in hiding we didn’t move much past the ladder to the attic. The window to Calise’s room was blocked in the same way Maddox’s was. Our family room had two windows that faced a cul-de-sac. If that didn’t make the primary gathering room risky enough, the narrow front porch buffering the outside of the two family room windows certainly did.

  Sarah and Maddox somehow pulled up the boards comprising the two-step front porch incline. With the boards removed it created a thigh-high step. If a reaper were to stumble up to it, there was little to prevent them from climbing up to window level. It hadn’t happened yet, but I feared it was inevitable.

  The kitchen had even more windows. When we were house shopping it was the bay window that had sold us. Before the end, while I boarded things up, I discovered how difficult it was to firmly cover a table-size pane of glass, so the barricade I erected was feeble at best. Desperate times can either bring about delusion or dreadful acceptance of things. With the safety of my family at stake, I refused to concede to delusions. The delusion in this case was that my efforts had made the kitchen safe. In response, we had the standing rule to avoid the room whenever possible.

  I peered inside the doorway to our kitchen. The area was eerily bathed in light from one of the few uncovered windows. Above the sink was a window that looked out towards the neighbor’s driveway. Sarah had covered up the bottom portion of the window for security but left the top free. There was no possible way anyone could reach up that high. Even standing on a chair against the counter I would have needed to stretch just to get up there. The rare opening to the outdoors gave the room some natural light during the day. At night we either had to keep the lights away from it or cover the window with a curtain to maintain our inconspicuousness.

  Tucked into a bend in the counter sat a green vase with a dozen withered roses. I’d bought them for Sarah about a week before I became trapped at work, for our wedding anniversary. The bouquet was comprised of twelve vibrant crimson and white flowers. Now they were petrified in a moment from before the world ended. The counter beneath the vase was littered in dried petals that fell from their drooping stems. My heart felt heavy from the sight. It served as a tragically beautiful reminder of long departed joyous times.

  During her own efforts to secure the house, Sarah had improved things slightly. Light was blocked and physical barriers on the inside of entryways were piled with furniture to prevent them from being forced open. Still, I saw the state of things and knew we could not stay here forever. A mass of undead would easily break through the windows if they so desired, and I was sure my heroic wife had come to the same realization.

  Concealment was our primary defense. Sarah knew this and used it as a motivator in blocking the windows. The back yard privacy fence was all that kept the infected from accessing and subsequently breaching more vulnerable areas. Limited, subtle activity in the kitchen was only possible because of the hidden vantage point granted by the fence.

  Our next door neighbor’s house and the house behind us had some view inside the fence. Sarah told me she watched both properties closely. Thus far there had been no signs of life, or otherwise. If either residence had a zombie inside, there was always the chance it could see us and draw attention from those roaming around the street.

  Of course, I had drawn ample attention with my kamikaze mission into the neighborhood. Groups of undead flocked to the area hearing the blazing gunfire from my pilfered Taurus 1911 pistol as well as from Sarah’s shotgun powered rescue. Some stayed around the fence, from where I was pulled to safety, for days after the incident. Many others wandered around the front yard almost like buzzards following the lingering trail of my blood.

  The attention span of the undead could act as the poster child for un-medicated Attention Deficit Disorder. This became obvious with how quickly the pursuing horde lost interest and moved on. Naturally, it would have been too convenient if all of them left. A small group still blocked the entrance to the cul-de-sac like rotting sentries. Our incognito status was all that prevented them from banging on the walls.

  Moving around the safe areas of the house definitely helped my recovery. I felt less stiff and the pain became more manageable by the minute, even without narcotics. A lot of the pain management was mental. Being able to see and interact with my loved ones provided a pleasant distraction.

  Soon I was able to make it up into the attic without the intense struggle. My reward for freely reaching the second level was a detailed explanation of what the kids imagined up to pass the time. The complicated rules of my babies’ games were beyond me. I implemented the ‘smile and nod’ tactic while just enjoying the conversation.

  They’d managed to convert the drab storage area to something quite livable. Nearly every box was opened then flattened to provide some extra insulation against the rafters. Three nest-like piles of softness served as beds. The makeshift mattresses were lined close together, which told me that the nights were spent huddling together for warmth and/or safety.

  Just like any typical attic, ours had two venting outlets on each end of the expanse. Both had been thoroughly obstructed. This wasn’t a living area by design, so the vents let out a lot of precious heat. Of equal concern was the threat of sounds leaking down to the hungry ears of outside predators.

  Upon closer inspection, I noticed that one of the bordering boxes in the pile that blocked the vent was placed differently. Sloppy gaps in the tight packing m
ade it seem like the differently placed section had been pulled away many times. Through one of the gaps I saw the fray of fabric. Maddox saw that I noticed the fabric addition and chimed in, “That was my idea, Daddy!”

  “Oh?” I tried to conceal the startle his proud outburst gave me. “What exactly is it I’m looking at?”

  He eagerly looked to Sarah, who gave a nod of approval. Calise reacted like this was a routine. Her dainty little hands covered her mouth just as they do whenever she feels the urge to talk during a movie.

  Maddox grabbed me by the hand, pulled me closer and whispered, “You have to stay quiet while it’s open.” He moved his hand, a miniature replica of my own, up to the box and gently eased it away from the rest of the wall. Behind it was a thick swatch of fabric secured to the wood with thumbtacks.

  I cocked my head with curious wonder then painfully swiveled around to meet eyes with my wife. She placed one finger over her mouth to remind me to be quiet. Smiling behind the finger, Sarah nodded towards Maddox in order to redirect my attention. Then I felt a sudden rush of chilly air.

  Maddox removed enough of the tacks to allow the fabric to flop down. He carefully folded the swatch over and tacked it in place. His motions eagerly ushered to the exposed hole that now beamed some natural light into the area. I squinted as my eyes adjusted and peered out.

  Outside the confines of the attic, one of the slanted strips of wood that covered the vent had been chipped away. Looking past it I was shocked by the surprisingly good view of the fence, our neighbor’s house and part of the front yard. Nothing in the area outside moved.

  I was sure the opposite vent had a similar set up. The other vent would be the one that looked down on the gate I was pulled through. Maddox pulled me back and re-closed the peephole. I stepped back feeling truly proud of the preparations my family had made while I was away.

  “What do you think, Daddy? Don’t you think I had a good idea?” said my little man, who eagerly sought my unnecessary approval.

  “It was a wonderful idea, Monkey.” My eyes grew moist with tears. Sarah was teary also, both of our tears brought on by both pride and worry. “I doubt I would have even thought of that.”

  1510 hours:

  Getting down from the attic was an arduous, aching chore. The time that lapsed while we were in the attic reminded me that medicine was still quite needed. I needed to get down and retrieve some pills since my warmly comfortable attire didn’t factor in pockets.

  I descended the steps at a sloth’s pace. Searing waves of pain echoed from my joints. By the time I reached the carpeted floor I was completely winded. The physical exertion wasn’t what exhausted me; it was the battle to squash my reaction to the pain. Maddox was waiting at the bottom to ensure I was all right. I wanted him to see me being strong, like I had to redeem myself as his immovable object of a father.

  Memories of my desperate climb up the brick train bridge surfaced during the short descent. That experience seemed like so long ago. Hanging on that rope above a churning torrent of infection nearly broke me. I was so ready back then to accept the seemingly unavoidable clutches of death. If Phil hadn’t saved me when he had, I probably would have let go.

  I shuddered at the memory and Maddox noticed my sudden distance. I prayed to God I would never have to tell him about Phil. A son should not have to know that his father took another man’s life, let alone a man whose lifesaving efforts enabled him to even have a father. Knowledge like that in this modern era could forever change how he looked at me.

  “Daddy?” said Maddox in a timid, yet caring way. “Are you okay? Do I need to get Mommy?” He began to start back up the ladder to get help.

  I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. He stopped then looked back with concerned eyes. “No…” my voice was weak but serious. “I’m fine. Can you help me into the bedroom so I can take a nap? It’s been a busy day of not being in bed for me. I think I’m ready to take it easy for a bit.”

  Maddox’s smile betrayed him. He’s not a little kid anymore. Soon I’d have to accept that my son was far more aware of the permeating evil in this world than I would like him to be. “Okay. Mommy said we’re all having dinner together tonight, so it’s a good idea to nap now.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He helped me up into bed then went into the bathroom. Seconds later he returned with a bottle of water and two mostly emptied bottles of prescription painkillers. One bottle would make me drowsy and one would not. Both pills have worked well despite being past their expiration.

  I took a swig of the water. Maddox held out both bottles and said very seriously, “I don’t think you should take these.” He shook the bottle that contained the drowsy pills. “Calise is really excited about dinner and would be sad if you aren’t there with us. While you were gone she talked about you every night during dinner.”

  “Every night?”

  His head bobbed up and down in an exaggerated acknowledgement. “Not just during dinner… but all the time. She asked Mommy a lot of questions about where you were and if you were okay. I just told her you were fighting the monsters and you’d be home soon.”

  A familiar tug of tears filled my eyes. “That’s what I was doing. I’m sorry she made you talk about it so much…”

  “How many did you have to fight?” he asked shyly.

  Visions of the endless dead came through my mind. I could still feel the impact run through my arm as my Kukri cut through each harbinger of evil. Then I thought… where the hell is my beloved weapon? I hadn’t seen it since I woke up from my coma. Frankly, outside of nightmares, I hadn’t even thought of it since then.

  My son’s eager questioning forced me to dismiss the thought. How long was I going to be able to shield him from this? The reapers were going to be something we had to deal with every day for as long as we had left alive. I simply couldn’t hide the irrefutable horror of this from him forever.

  “I…” debate raged inside my bandaged head. “I fought more than I’d like to think about. For now that’s all you need to know, Monkey.”

  He looked disappointed but accepted it. “Okay, Daddy. I’m just really glad you’re home.” This was followed by a hug that had the loving roughness usually employed by Calise. Quickly breaking from the hug, Maddox extended only the non-drowsy medicine. With a childishly devious grin he said, “So which medicine do you want?”

  I wiped away a tear and laughed. “Well, doctor,” he immediately giggled at that, “I think the non-sleepy pills will do, thank you!”

  I washed two capsules down my gullet. Exhaustion was ready to overtake me. I kissed the boy’s shaggy head and said, “Go help your mom with dinner. I’m going to nap until it’s ready.”

  Chapter 4 – Seeking Normalcy

  1900 hours:

  I awoke to Calise’s loud whispers. “Daddy! Daddy! It’s time for dinner. Come back upstairs!”

  My eyes opened to a bouncing flashlight beam. Sleep had hit me so hard that I thankfully had no room for dreams. This was the first time since waking up at home that I had been able to enjoy a nightmare-free period of rest. That could have been attributed to my improving health, but I think it was thanks to the time spent with family. If it wasn’t for this improvement in mental health I wouldn’t even have a reason for my body to heal. After all, I had battled through the hell outside only to reach them once again.

  Calise hopped on the bed’s blanketed end. It was like a twisted version of those commercials for our mattress brand with the girl jumping and the wine glass. Regardless of the kinetic energy absorption ability my resting place possessed, the jostled wakeup call hurt.

  “Alright, alright! I’ll be right there, Princess. Just give me a few minutes.” I was never very good at waking up from a nap. Irritation had always been the first thing I felt after being disturbed. All her life Calise has known me as a midnight shift… zombie. She’d woken me from naps, many times, and wasn’t at all bothered by my being short with her.

  Jumping down
with a thud, she cleared the cushioned platform and the flashlight beam scurried off accompanied by an array of giggles. Now I had to complete the unpleasant task of getting out of bed. Even though I was getting better, this chore remained a difficult one.

  I let out a heavy sigh then followed my dismounting routine. Soon I found myself both standing and hungry. A family meal was something that sounded so good I’d probably kill for it. This brought on a genuine laugh. It was disturbingly funny because I did kill for it.

  Focusing on the dinner event made for a much better way to occupy my attention. I was struck by the overall eeriness of the house once I entered the hallway. The other rooms were black as pitch. This kind of darkness was disheartening. The only time I’d been exposed to something like this was years ago when I went spelunking. That was what our sweet home had essentially become – a cave. We’d shut it off so tightly that we’d put subterranean caverns to shame.

  All activity in the house was concentrated in the attic. Light that beamed down from the void in the ceiling broke the imaginatively taunting absence of light. Before I knew it I was up the ladder and delighted by the scene before me.

  A circle of votive candles burned brightly as a halo. My dear family sat atop a blanket, each with a cardboard box. The boxes were covered in place mats so that they could be used as impromptu tables. A single vacant setting had an inviting pillow placed behind it. Sarah saw my delighted expression and smiled. “Come join us, sleepy head,” she said in a soothing tone.

  Calise immediately jumped up with excitement. “I set your table, Daddy! Isn’t it pretty?” Sarah quickly motioned for her to quell her volume. Embarrassed, Calise sank her head down into her shoulders. All the while she never severed eye contact with me.

  Breaking from the heart-melting gaze of the brown-eyed beauty, I looked down at the fabric-covered box. It was set with a plastic plate I had bought years ago for the kids. The plate was blue with a picture of the matching M&M candy character. I realized then that all the plates were from the M&M set. Maddox sat behind the yellow M&M. Sarah sat behind the green M&M; because as the kids knew, Mommy always got the green M&M. Calise bobbed up and down behind the red M&M plate.