Against the Fading of the Light (Action of Purpose, 3) Page 12

  It had taken an extra hour or two, but Courtland had safely led the group around the southern perimeter of the two cities through the broken, smoldering suburbs, a chilling reminder of how many people, how many unprepared and unsuspecting families, had perished in the days since the end began. The simple, now-ransacked neighborhood subdivisions passed without further thought, ghosts of a previous era, remnants of a better time.

  Dagen sighed and rubbed his eyes. What was he doing? After all that had happened in his life, how had he come to this place? How had he become a part of this group? No longer erroneously tagging along, he was now legitimately a member of these people, these Christian survivors. It was, of course, Jenna’s influence that had saved his life on more than one occasion. He owed her too much. They were debts that would never be fully paid, no matter what choices he made in this life. She was a saint, his angel. He had tried to tell her, but the words never seemed to come out right without being creepy. He knew he probably wouldn’t really ever be able to fully voice what it was that he felt inside.

  But as much as he knew that it had all begun with Jenna and that she was the catalyst of everything that had begun with him, he also knew now that there was something else at play here. It was a presence that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the sum of all the parts. They all called it “God,” and Jenna had told him that it was Jesus that he saw in her. Dagen wasn’t sure yet, but he couldn’t deny that there was a greater power at work around them. What they had all done and overcome—it was beyond reason that any of them were still alive. Not to mention the strange visions and dreams they all had received. It was like some greater being had designed it that way, like they were all meant to see it. He just couldn’t make any sense of it, and the more he did, the less he felt he understood of it.

  “You know,” Courtland said, interrupting Dagen’s pondering the mysteries of life, “I don’t think I ever said anything to you, but I was very impressed at how you stepped up to defend our people during all that mess with the mutants and Jenna being kidnapped and all that.”

  Dagen said nothing, unsure how to respond. He hated awkward conversations, but the giant obviously didn’t have a problem expressing himself.

  Courtland cleared his throat. “I just wanted you to know that it was my honor to stand with you through that.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too excited,” Dagen said, blowing him off. “I’m not the guy to make the sacrifice play. It’s not me.”

  “Well, whatever it was, I was grateful to have your help. God called us to be there in that moment, to stand together.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I don’t know what I think, Courtland. Forget about it.”

  But the giant wouldn’t leave it alone. “Then what is it?” Courtland looked over at him, his massive frame comically wedged into the cab of the truck. He couldn’t be comfortable.

  Dagen turned to look back out the window, the dark landscape outside passing without a sound.

  Courtland glanced at Dagen again. “Come on, friend. I can see your wheels turning from here.”

  Dagen turned to look at the giant. Something about the demeanor of the man called to him, urged him to trust the gentle giant in confidence. “OK, if you’re not going to let this go, can I ask you a question then?”

  “Shoot,” Courtland said, looking back forward as he veered left to avoid some wreckage in the road.

  “When you believe in God, how do you know your belief isn’t misplaced? How do you know that it’s real?”

  Courtland considered this for a moment. “I think you already know the answer to that,” the giant said assuredly. “You ever had someone love you? Not in a way that was artificial or selfish or purely sexual. I mean really love you, even though there was nothing you had done to deserve that love?”

  Dagen immediately thought of Jenna. “Let’s say I have. What of it?”

  “Well, knowing that we deserve to spend eternity in hell for our sin, and knowing that the God of the universe paid that price for us so that we could be saved from that fate, it feels the same way. You trust in it because you feel it in your heart. You know that God loves you even though there’s nothing good in you apart from him.”

  “But what if it’s not that simple? What if a person has never been to church or been baptized or any of that other Holy Roller stuff?”

  “Don’t worry about that, Dagen. The condition of your heart is what is most important. If you are truly sorry for your sin and you truly desire forgiveness, then all you have to do is ask for it.”

  “That’s stupid. There has to be more to it.”

  “Not really. That’s the most important part.”

  Dagen seemed exasperated as held his palms up. “OK, just for the sake of argument, wouldn’t you feel cheated if you had been a good person your whole life, but you just didn’t believe in God, so you couldn’t go to heaven? Or what about if you were a devout believer your whole life, and then some loser who had lived a rotten life believes at the last moment—you think that it’s fair that they both get to heaven just the same as the other?”

  Courtland smiled, patiently considering Dagen’s earnest questions and obvious irritation. “It’s not about fairness, my friend, and it’s not a race or a contest. Everyone, regardless of how good they think they are, is in need of the saving blood of Jesus. He is the only way. There is no other. And if you come to him as a child or on your deathbed, in the end, you have still come, and that’s what matters.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Dagen said, turning back to the window.

  “Yes, sir,” Courtland said, chuckling easily, “it truly is.”

  Courtland’s radio crackled to life as Kane’s voice washed through the static. “Hold up right here, Court.”

  He slowed the truck as they came to an exit ramp off the interstate with a dust-coated sign that read, “Hwy 14, Cedar Crest, next right.”

  After a long pause, Kane’s voice came through the radio once more. “Albuquerque is not far ahead. We are going to need to detour north around the city and head toward Farmingdale. According to my ancient, half-mutilated road atlas, Highway 14 north to 536 to 550 should work, as long as they all are passable.”

  “So we’re taking the next exit, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “Copy. We’re going to need to scavenge for gas soon too; we’re running low.”

  “OK.” Kane paused for a moment, thinking. “It’s been a long haul, and we’ve made it relatively unmolested. It’s probably time to make camp and get some rest for now. Let’s exit here and see what’s what.”

  “Copy that.”

  Courtland set the radio down and steered the heavy truck toward the ramp and down to the dark wreckage of postcivilization below.

  The inhuman shriek echoed across the dark of the landscape and froze every member of the group where he or she stood scavenging. Whether it was PTSD or just the sheer terror they all associated with that sound was irrelevant; the reaction was the same. The children burst into tears, Kane and Courtland exchanged worried glances, and several people swore under their breath as they picked up their weapons and waited.

  “Infected?” Ari asked.

  Kane nodded. “Yeah, we call them Sicks. We had a bad experience with them.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” Jenna huffed nervously.

  One scream was followed by another—its long, low warbling ending in a painful, animalistic groan.

  “Everyone, rally up on me,” Kane said in a forced whisper. “Get close enough to hear me.”

  Everyone shuffled close, careful not to make too much noise as they listened for what Kane had to say.

  “Listen, don’t wig out. This is not going to be a repeat of what happened at the station; that group was organized by the Father. Without him and his control over them, they’re just hungry freaks. If we stay calm and stay quiet, we will get out of this.”

  “Let’s just get in
the trucks and go!” Sam urged, almost too loudly as the others motioned for him to shut up.

  “Courtland is almost out of fuel, and we haven’t found any diesel yet. Several other vehicles are nearly dry as well. We won’t make it much farther if we don’t siphon some.”

  “So what do we do then?”

  “We take up positions here, 360-degree coverage, and we wait. Put your firearms down but keep them close. Firing them will bring any others within earshot.”

  Moving quickly and quietly, the group circled the wagons with the children in the center. Staying low and quiet, they watched and waited in the thick, silent dark.

  It felt like they waited hours, each contemplating the unknown outcome that lay before them. Then they heard it. The shuffling, scampering, and snuffing of what sounded like a pack of wild animals. They could just make out their haggard silhouettes, as a moderate-size group of Sicks crossed the road in front of them, some walking upright like the humans they had once been and others scrambling about on all fours like hybrids of human and beast. Kane swallowed hard as Courtland whispered very closely to him.

  “I forgot just how much I hate those things.”

  Kane said nothing, waiting for the monsters to see them. One by one they crossed the road, meandering into the dark hills before them. After a few tense moments, they were gone, not alerted to the humans in their midst.

  “Are they gone?” someone asked.

  Kane took a breath. “I think so.” He glanced around and pointed to a nearby convenience store, an A+ Mart. “There. Take what you need and quickly and quietly move to that store. We will clear it first and make sure it’s safe—but it looks like we are going to have to stay the night here. Rummaging around in the dark for supplies is only going to draw more attention to us. We will secure the store as best we can and keep a night watch while everyone rests. When we get some light, we will find some fuel and be on our way. Now, everybody, go and be over at the store in no more than five minutes. Stay quiet.”

  There it was again, that repetitive grinding sound that was not unlike something being dragged. Kane shifted his position, uncomfortably leaning against an interior wall of the dirty, trash-filled store. He hadn’t thought he’d sleep, and yet it had come upon him before he’d known it. It was alright. Kane had taken first watch, and Sam had followed. He’d let them know if there was danger.

  Grating and pulling on the unraveling seam of his unconsciousness, the sound continued, now growing more distant.

  What is that?

  Kane flicked his heavy eyes open, at first seeing nothing but dark.

  “What is that damn noise?” he said with a groan, looking toward the rear door of the shop, which was now being pushed open. He couldn’t make it out: feet sliding across the floor, the door edging wider, and bloodred eyes like flickering flames.

  In an instant, Kane was on his feet at a dead run across the lobby of the store. Slamming into the closing door, he collided at full speed with the slick, leathery flesh of a mutant Sick, as it dragged Dagen from the store, its clawed hand clamped firmly over his mouth as he moaned and squirmed.

  Scrambling on top of the now-thrashing, maddened creature, Kane drove his knife between its ribs, twisting the blade to the chorus of cracking bones. The monster howled just before Kane silenced it with a stab of his knife through its temple.

  Dagen rolled over on the ground. “Motherfucker tried to abduct me!”

  Kane, still thoroughly confused, shouted, “Courtland, check our people! See who’s missing. They’re trying to take us!”

  The inside of the store came to life as people scrambled for their weapons, shouting.

  “Who’s coming?”

  “Where’s Sam?”

  “Somebody get a head count!”

  Something inhuman shrieked in the darkness beyond his vision. Kane scanned the horizon and dropped his gaze to Dagen.

  “Are you injured?”

  “I…don’t think so.”

  “I’m going to drag you back inside.”

  “OK.”

  Moving as fast as he could, Kane dragged Dagen back into the store and bolted the door behind them.

  “Jenna?” Dagen called out.

  “I’m OK,” she replied.

  “Keep ready; there may be more out there,” Kane said to no one in particular.

  “Sicks?” Courtland looked at Kane.

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen them do this before. That one, just now, was dragging Dagen right out from under our noses. Had a hand over his mouth and everything.” Kane was still out of breath.

  “Sam’s gone too,” someone said.

  “And Brian. I can’t find Brian,” cried another.

  “Alright, everybody stay calm.” Kane swallowed, wiped his mouth, and tried to forget that his side was aching like he’d been kicked by a mule. “Sam was on watch, Brian was sleeping under the open window, and Dagen was closest to that rear door. They went for the easiest prey first.”

  The Sick howled as it came running at the window, frothing and foaming, its ugly gray lips peeled back over sharpened teeth.

  “Behind you!” Ari called quickly, acquiring the amber dot of her AR-15 optic and firing a round through the monster’s head. The freak took another clumsy step and fell, sliding across the ground to the front of the store.

  “I’m going after them.” Kane did a round check of his GLOCK and looked up.

  “Me too,” Ari said.

  “I’ll go,” Courtland said, nodding.

  “No, you stay here, big man. Protect everyone else. Ari and I will handle it.”

  “OK. Then Godspeed, brother,” Courtland said.

  Without wasting another moment, Kane and Ari climbed through a broken window and set out to find their stolen people. Tracking the distant cries for help, it didn’t take long. With a muffled groan here, a cry for help there, they tracked their quarry. They just reached the top of a nearby rise when they saw it, a group of approximately fifteen of the creatures gathered together in a huddled mass. Kane could just make out Sam’s haggard voice naming the saints near the center of the swaying group.

  “They don’t have much time,” Kane started when Ari interrupted.

  “You have enough ammo?”

  “No. Two topped-out mags. That’s it.”

  “I have about the same. It’s enough. We’ll flank them. Interlocking sectors of fire. Head shots only. Get ready to move.”

  “Yeah,” Kane said. There was no question—the woman knew how to take charge. “Let’s do it.”

  Moving down the short slope quickly, but not so fast that they lost their point of aim, Kane and Ari descended upon the fragmented swath of savage mutants. Each moving to the outside, Ari fired first, and Kane opened up from the other side. With both of them striking multiple head shots, the plan was working, but suddenly, the freaks, in a maddened, bawling hysteria, began fleeing in all directions. Some ran for the tree line; others simply ran, desperate to get free of the ambush. In moments, each and every Sick had gone. How far was another question entirely.

  Kane and Ari moved to the downed men, stepping and jumping over the massacred Sicks that lay all around. At their feet, Brian lay in a pool of blood, his pearly white intestines strewn about in the dirt.

  Ari and Kane swore simultaneously.

  “Sweet Moses! Are you guys a sight for sore eyes,” Sam stammered.

  “We’ve got to get you out of here.” Kane stooped and started to help Sam to his feet when Ari stopped him.

  “Kane.”

  “What?”

  “Look.”

  Standing, Kane noticed the eyes before he saw the shadows. There were a lot of them, way too many: soulless, fiery embers staring back at him from the dark. He raised his weapon but did not fire. All around them, the eyes looked on; probably forty or more of the mutants now surrounded them. Most had simply come to investigate the noise, hoping for an easy meal.

  “We’re screwed,” Sam moaned.

  “Hang on. Let m
e think.” Kane glanced at Ari and checked his round count. Seven.

  “Ari, how many rounds you got?”

  “Four.”

  “Alright. Before you tell me I’m crazy, just hear me out. These things are more animal than man. I think we should posture.”

  “What?”

  “Posturing. Like you would if you ran into a grizzly while hiking. We scream, wave our arms, and fire our weapons in the air.”

  “You’re crazy! Shoot all our ammo?”

  “They don’t know how much ammo we have.”

  “What if they come anyway?”

  “Then we didn’t have enough to begin with, and we’ll never make it back to the others before…”

  “Just give me a logical reason why we should do this.”

  “They’re not organized—not like before. They’re just hungry freaks. I think we can scare them off.”

  “Organized like before?”

  “Look, it’s way too long a story. Just trust me.”

  Ari bit her lip. “I’m going to be pissed at you if you get me killed.”

  Kane forced a laugh. “Yeah, I figured. Sam, you get in on this too; stand with us.”

  Sam stood with them, and Kane counted down from three. In unison, Kane, Ari, and old Sam raised their arms in the air, growling, screaming, and yelling mightily. Even cloaked in shadow, the Sicks visibly flinched, some shuffling away from the outpouring of noise. A few bolder creatures nudged forward baring their teeth.

  “Louder!” Kane shouted, firing his handgun into the air. Ari followed suit, firing her rifle into the air. The many flickering eyes shifted, departing, and after a long, tense moment of collective shouting, the last pair turned and disappeared into the dark.

  Silence held.

  “You lucky idiot,” Ari said, huffing. “I can’t believe that worked.”

  Kane was already pulling her and Sam in the direction of their people. “Yeah, well, let’s not stick around to find out if they change their minds.”

  Beyond them, daybreak was but minutes away, the darkened landscape stark against the thin line of growing light along the horizon. They would get their people together, find more fuel, and keep moving. Anything was safer than the alternative.