DeadBorn (13 page)

“
Why not?” Valerie asks, perfectly comfortable with going where nobody else will.

“
We just can't.”

“
Not good enough.” Holly scowls and turns away. She tries to follow after Dawson, but Valerie stops her with a hand on the arm. “Whatever it is that you know, you better tell me now or I'm going to cuff you and drag you screaming back to the city.” Holly jerks her arm away from the ranger and she lets her.

“
It's only going to be worse there.”

“
And why's that?” Valerie crosses her arms over chest, perfectly comfortable with waiting Holly's stubbornness out. My girlfriend, the love of my life, the one person that I can actually imagine being trapped on a desert island with, turns to her and drops the biggest bomb of the day right on our heads.

“
Because the magic is in the earth and it's spreading fast. All of the dead,
all
of them, will rise as DeadBorn. Whether they died today or yesterday or a hundred years ago, the magic will find them and animate them. No matter what state the corpse is in, it can be brought back. In a few days,
days,
the whole world will fall to the undead. It's inevitable.”

“
And how the hell did this whole thing get started?” Valerie asks, completely undaunted. She's so business like it's almost scary. She doesn't question Holly's words though. We've all seen enough to convince us that magic exists. And now Holly's just told us all that it's hopeless. I close my eyes and try to breathe through my nose. If there really was no way out, Holly would've killed us both and saved us from the fear and the misery and the pain. I know she would've. I open my eyes and look up at her, but she won't meet my gaze. She knows more than she's letting on, a whole lot more. I'm going to have to get her alone and drag it out of her.

“
I don't know everything,” Holly says snippily. “That's all I've got. Sorry if it's not enough.” And then she storms out of the bathroom. I scramble to my feet, stumble past Valerie and chase after her.

“
Holly?” She ignores me and walks past Dawson who's sitting in one of the chairs in the lobby. His eyes are closed, but he isn't sleeping. His hand is slowly drifting across the back of the tabby cat. His body looks limp and worn out, like the blood's been drained away and he's nothing but an empty sack. “Holly, please wait.” She doesn't pay any attention to me, just moves through the doorway into the gift shop. On top of one of the display shelves is a stuffed owl with bright yellow eyes and an angry glare. I can't imagine why anyone would want it there. It's actually pretty scary. “I think we should talk.” Holly unlocks a wooden door in the back of the shop and opens it in my face. I barely have time to catch it before it slams shut and locks behind me.

“
Just leave me alone, Galen,” she says, but I know that in reality, that's the last thing she wants me to do. She starts up a set of stairs and doesn't stop until she hits the landing, pausing for just a moment before she finds what she's looking for.

One half of the room is covered with beige linoleum and stuffed full of a random assortment of items including the bows and arrows that Holly mentioned. The other half is carpeted in the same blue that lines the downstairs hallways. Holly turns left and goes that way, making a straight beeline for the only window that's low enough for me to see out of. She steps up to it, raises the blinds and opens it.

“
We don't have time to board up all the windows tonight. Tell the others … ” Here she pauses. “And Valerie that we're sleeping up here tonight. We'll just fortify this area to start with.” Holly pushes the screen out and then drags it back through the window and tosses it to the floor. “And if that woman has other suggestions, fine. Dawson and Martin can do whatever they want, but we're staying here.” Then she climbs out on the roof and starts to walk away. I follow after her, determined to find out what's bothering her. Beyond the obvious that is. There's a lot to worry about, sure, but there's something deeper in Holly, something that's keeping her from making the decisions she wants to make.

“
What are you doing?” I ask as Holly sits down near the edge of the roof and gazes off into the distance. The sun is setting quickly, painting the sky in orange and yellow and red. It won't be long until it gets dark and I think, regardless of how we're handling things, it's freaking us all out.

“
Scouting,” she says as I sit down beside her. When I try to put my arm around her, she stiffens. I drop my hands to the roof and pick at the edge of one of the tiles. I don't want to say anything, but her attitude is stressing me out to the point where I can't even think of getting out of this alive. All I can do is tell myself that if I die, I won't have touched Holly enough. It hurts. I know I'm being pathetic, but I can't seem to help myself. She's the only thing I've ever had that I care this much about. “Don't hate me, Galen,” she says and I glance up sharply to find that she's looking right at me, topaz eyes wet with tears and face stricken with guilt.

I reach out and try to cup her face, but she looks away.

“
Did you know that I was adopted?” she asks and I shake my head. Holly sniffles and tries to smile as she looks back at me. The smile doesn't look right, though. It's too sad and kind of droopy. I try to give her one that's more genuine in the hopes that I can lift her spirit, even for just a second. “Neither did I,” she says and then turns away so that she's looking in the opposite direction, towards a giant oak tree that towers over us. “Don't be afraid, Galen,” Holly tells me as I scoot closer to her and try to line my leg up against hers. She doesn't move away this time, but she still won't look at me. “If you stay right by me, you'll be alright. I promise.”

“
Tell me your secrets,” I say. “And you'll feel better, you know you will.” Holly shakes her head violently and her blonde hair comes out of the ponytail. I reach forward and run my fingers through it. They get stuck on clumps of dried blood that I gently try to comb out.

“
I want to save the world,” she tells me as her fingers curl into fists. Hot tears drop and splash against the roof tiles. “But I don't know how. Of all the things I know, that isn't one of them.”

“
It's not up to you,” I say and she whirls on me and slaps me in the face. Her eyes are wild now, as ardent as the fire face's.

“
But it is,” she tells me and I can see that nothing I say will convince her otherwise. “This is my fault,
mine.
” I shake my head, but it doesn't matter, Holly is already standing up and running from me across the roof. I can't stand to see her do that so far up, and my heart stills in my chest as she stumbles. Fortunately, she's able to right herself and get back through the upstairs window. I make as if to follow her and then pause. In the distance, there's a clacking noise, like one of those wind chimes made of drift wood that my father used to collect. It's hollow and kind of faint but very distinct.

I wait for awhile, scanning the horizon as I try to place it. When I don't find anything, I stand up and move to the other side of the roof.

Holly comes back moments later.

“
I never left,” she tells me and I know that's true. She said she wouldn't let me out of her sight and I believe it. Whatever she knows, whatever is going on inside of her, she honestly thinks that if I stay close to her that I'll be okay. “What's that sound?” I shrug and we walk the perimeter of the roof together. Just as we're about to give up and go inside, I spot something in the distance. It's just a bit of movement, but it's odd enough that I take notice.

“
Do you see that?” I ask. Holly takes a look and then immediately grabs me by the wrist.

“
Hurry,” she hisses as she pulls me back towards the window and we dive inside like we're running from something. I still don't know what's going on, but I follow her down the stairs where we bump head to chest into Valerie.

“
Do you – ”

Holly interrupts the woman.

“
Get Martin and Dawson and whatever guns you have and get in here. Make sure all the outside doors are still locked.” Valerie's brow wrinkles, but she doesn't hesitate, not even a bit. Holly's convictions are so powerful that not even an adult, not even a cop, will question them.

“
What's doing on?” Dawson demands as he comes into the store and glares at the three of us.

“
They're coming,” Holly says and Dawson turns whiter than the corpse of the taxidermy owl above his head. “Not all of them but some. We have to kill them quick. Hurry and get on the roof.”

Holly then turns and we go back up the stairs together at a breakneck pace. I stumble once and nearly break my ankle, but she doesn't stop. She's in full combat mode now.

“
How many?” I ask. “And what kind?”

“
I don't know,” she says. “I only saw one.” I don't question why she's so afraid. Even one of those things is deadly, so I help her gather up the bows and arrows and carry them to the roof. By the time we get them all out there, Dawson and Martin have arrived. Dawson is carrying the bag of guns and looks like he
wants
to kill something. At least from up here. Somehow, being on the second floor makes it seem safer. It's an illusion though. If those rotten angels show up, I can't think of a worse place to be.

“
I think I'm going to have to sit this one out,” Martin says as he walks over to the only chair in the room and plops down. His shirt is wet and sticky, clinging to his body like spandex and his face is clammy and pallid. I am absolutely, one hundred percent sure now that there's something physically wrong with him. I don't know what it is, but it's worrying me. Everybody else ignores him, more intent on the unknown threat than they are about Martin's well being. Holly holds up one of the bows.

“
Does anyone know how to shoot these things?” she asks as Valerie comes up the stairs with a shotgun and several boxes of ammunition. Dawson and I shake our heads and Martin doesn't respond. Valerie nods briskly and tries to hand me the shotgun.

“
I'm no good with guns,” I say and she smiles tightly. “Good. Then this should work fine.” She puts it in my hand and then dumps the boxes of ammo on the desk where Martin's sitting. “I'll help with the bows,” she says and then climbs out on the roof to see for herself what we're up against. I follow after her and can finally make out what's coming.

Lopers. Lots and lots of lopers. Bone bags, too. That's where the clacking sound is coming from. When they walk, their bones jar against one another and echo across the relatively flat expanses of field that separates them from us. I try to count them, but they're still so far away that it makes me dizzy.

“
Where the fuck did they come from?” Dawson asks as he sets the bag of guns down in front of him and starts pulling them out. He lays them next to one another and lines them up neatly. Valerie sighs and shakes her head like she wants to believe she's crazy but knows she's not.

“
There's a historic farmhouse down the road,” she says as she grabs one of the bows. When she sees that it's pink, she sets it down and trades it out for a different one. “The family that owned it buried their dead right on the property.” She pauses as Holly joins us and does another walk around of the perimeter. When she comes back around, she stops and picks up one of the handguns. “They donated the house to the refuge in … ” Valerie rubs her chin for a moment and shrugs. “Ah, who the fuck cares. Anyway, their one concession was that they got to continue using the graveyard.”

“
That's fucking fantastic,” Dawson says as he loads a magazine into his gun and flicks off the safety. “What was their name? The family, I mean.” Valerie thinks about this for awhile.

“
The Fiechters.” Dawson scowls and spits over the edge of the roof. He then lifts his gun, aims and shoots one of the water hags in the back of the head. She rocks on her feet for a moment as the bullet slices through her skull and comes out the other side. Otherwise, she doesn't move, doesn't even acknowledge the blood steaming down the side of her neck.

“
Well,” he says as he wipes dark hair from his forehead and then flips off the approaching zombies. “Fuck the Fiechters then.”

CHAPTER 12

Disaccord

Fifteen Hours and Thirty-Eight Minutes After …

The zombies are moving towards us, but they're not running. They're taking their time, moving as if they're out bird watching, enjoying the scenery and breathing the sweet scent of the summer air. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration. The air
was
sweet. It smelt like hay and sun and living things. Now it just smells like death. There's a heavy, rotten odor in the air that's disguised only partially by the scent of damp earth.

“
Guess we don't need an alarm system,” Dawson says as he yawns and glances back towards the window. Somebody must've let the tabby cat in when they came up because she's now standing on the windowsill sniffing the air and making strange huffing noises. “Because these fuckin' things smell like shit. This rancid crap could wake me from a dead sleep.” Valerie chuckles and finally sits down with the rest of us. There's no need to stand. It's going to be awhile before the lopers are close enough to shoot.

“
Do you think they're coming for us or just moving randomly in this direction?” I ask. It's hard to tell. They seem as if they're heading this way purposely yet they're not running like I know they can. When they first started to pour down the hill this morning, they were faster than any of the kids on the track team.

“
They're just looking,” Holly says and we all turn to stare at her. “Trying to find me.”