The Lost Gods (10 page)

She stroked his chin with her hand. The skin on her hands was not soft. It had texture to it. These were hands that had done work at some point. What kind of work, Jesse did not know. He tried to turn his head toward her, but she grabbed his jaw hard and held him in place.

“Why should any of you live?” she asked.

“People have done a lot of things. Good and bad. I can’t defend humanity as a whole, but there are good people.”

“Do you wish to save them?”

“Save who? Is there anyone left to save?”

“Some.”

“Then, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I am a person.”

“So, if you were a dog, then you would try to save all the dogs if they were in danger?”

“I don't know — I've never been a dog.”

She released his jaw and slid her hands down his spine. A warm tingle went up his back and sent goose bumps all over his skin.

“Do you want me?”

He did not know this woman, or whatever she was, but he desired her on a primal level. He wanted her with a passion that he never felt back when things were no
rmal. No sorority girl had ever made him feel the way this self-styled queen did.

“Yes.”

“Then —,” she whispered into his ear, her hot breath warming the side of his face, “fight.”

Five

Fight

Jesse woke amid what felt like an earthquake. The walls were shaking and loud thumps rattled the attic. The attic was still dark. Jesse had no idea how much time had passed.

“They're going to tear this fucker down!” shouted Adam over the cacophony of thudding fists and splinte
ring wood.

“I know. I'm just thinking about how we can get out of here.”

No light came into the attic and there were no windows or vents. They were trapped.

“They're gonna be right under us soon, if they aren't already,” said Adam.

A car window smashed below them.

“Too late,” said Adam.

“Relax, they can’t get up here,” Jesse said. He stood up as high as he could and felt along the ceiling. He knocked his fist against the boards between the rafters.

“I think we can find a weak spot,” Jesse said. He pounded against the boards, but they were sturdy. He cursed the good craftsmanship of the house.
Jesse thrashed boxes and plastic tubs aside as he made his way to the other end of the attic. He ran his hand over a few slanted sheets of plywood and struck them with the side of his fist.

“I need your help. Come over here,” he yelled to A
dam.

Adam took a few steps in Jesse's direction, but his foot slipped off one of the joists and broke through the drywall. He screamed and flailed as he lost balance. Je
sse’s strong hands grasped under his armpits and pulled him up like a child. Neither man said anything, but Adam’s face flushed red. Adam dusted himself off and rubbed his hurt ankle. Jesse lowered himself across two joists. He turned and faced toward the diagonal slant of the low roof and curled his knees into his chest. He gripped the joists for support and kicked the nearest roofing sheet with both feet. The roof shook, but the plywood sheet held. Again, Jesse kicked. The wood rattled but held. Adam ignored the pain in his ankle, got down with Jesse on the joists, and started kicking the roofing. Adam found Jesse's rhythm and they kicked once together, again, and once more before the nails came loose and a shaft of daylight shot through the small space.

“Again!”

Adam let out a primal scream and drove his feet into the plywood in time with Jesse. The sheet popped free on Jesse’s side. Jesse worked his way backwards and to his feet, having to crouch low, and gripped the loose sheet. Adam squeezed into the tight space next to Jesse. They pushed and pulled until the sheet detached and slid down the roof onto the lawn below. Jesse heard the separate thumps of shingles hitting the grass. Sunlight brightened the attic.

“It's enough,” said Adam. Jesse moved back and let Adam climb up onto the slanted roof. Adam hoisted himself up without issue and stayed on all fours.

“What's the situation out there?” Jesse asked.

“Hope you brought your running shoes.”

“That good, eh?”

“Yep.”

Jesse tried to lift himself out, but his jacket sleeve caught on a crooked nail. Adam reached down to help him. His foot slipped, sending him sliding down the roof.

…

He grasped at the mossy shingles. When he neared the lip of the roof, Adam kicked his right foot into the tin gutter. His heel caught the gutter, but the flimsy aluminum bent with the impact. Adam slipped off the roof.

Adam fell hard onto the overgrown lawn. His wind escaped in a violent exhale.
A tight line of reanimates pressed up against the sides of the garage a few feet away. They had smashed in a small section of the exterior. They squirmed to get into the opening. A large reanimate clogged the hole. The thing’s cheap, polyester suit had an open back: a funeral parlor standard. Faded tattoos covered the discolored skin of its back. Adam rolled onto his stomach and tried to stand. Vertigo gripped him and he collapsed. Two creatures came down on top of him. Lacking the space and energy to strike them, Adam grappled with the creatures. One of the things pulled at Adam’s arms and dragged itself across his body. It brought itself face to face with Adam. Wrinkles and untrimmed hair textured the purplish skin of its face. Its dried lips parted revealing dark teeth and a swollen, black tongue. Adam freed an arm, grabbed the creature behind its neck, and yanked it away from his face. The other reanimate pulled at Adam's arm. He jerked his arm free. He took in a shallow breath and rolled over. He drove his elbow into the creature's forehead. Unfazed by the hit, it leaned toward Adam's face. Adam pushed its jaw and drove his forearm into the creature's neck. He felt the creature's spinal cord snap. Its mouth closed and its cloudy, gray eyes stared into the clear sky. He looked up and saw the rest of them closing in.

…

Jesse worked his way up onto the roof. He slipped as he tried to stand. He bent his knees, set a hand down on a shingle, and regained his balance. Adam was out of sight. Jesse moved across the roof, searching, until he saw Adam wrestling with the creatures below.

Without a thought for his own safety, Jesse dove off of the roof with his arms crossed in front of his face. He collided with a reanimate that was little more than a skeleton. It crumpled under the force. Jesse tucked into a roll. His roll was graceless and he tumbled into a naked reanimate a few feet ahead. His legs struck the nude creature, and it toppled over like lawn furniture in a stiff breeze. Jesse popped up to his feet. He spotted Adam nearby atop a reanimate. Jesse bounded over to him and stomped on the nearest creature’s head. Its skull co
llapsed, and Jesse's foot crushed through it releasing dark, coagulated matter into the grass. Jesse reached for his cudgel, but his fingers found only the fabric of his pants.

“What the fuck?” he said to himself. He patted his belt line and pants in a fury. He groped at his jacket pockets, as if his weapon could have possibly fit in those small spaces. Jesse felt for his pack, but it too was mis
sing. Frustration, terror, and rage coursed through his mind. The vortex of emotion froze him in place. Two skinny hands came down on his shoulders. Without a thought, Jesse grabbed the hands, bent forward, and flipped the creature over his right shoulder. The creature landed on its back and Jesse smashed his boot into its face.

Adam got to his feet and did the same wild, fruitless search as Jesse.

“We can’t go back for it!” Jesse yelled. “Let’s get back to the fort.”

The majority of the creatures
continued pressing against the house, but others were scattered throughout the backyard and forest beyond. Jesse passed the family’s pool in the backyard. Pine needles floated in the filthy water. Below the surface, outlines of a dozen reanimates shifted. They paced back and forth in the slimy water, like nervous tigers in a zoo, unable to escape. Without a weapon, Jesse resorted to shoving the creatures in the yard out of his way as he rushed through the grass into the forest. Adam limped along behind him in an awkward trot. The horde of creatures detached themselves from the house and pursued at a plodding and deliberate pace. Adam and Jesse had laid waste to dozens of them in the skirmish the day before, but the group of walking corpses had grown overnight.

...

A gust of cold wind broke through Adam’s clothes and made his bones and joints ache. Dry, hard pain emanated out of his shoulder, wrists, fingers, and knees. Each pain brought back a memory. The time he sprained his wrist fighting with a dealer that cheated him in high school, or the time he separated his shoulder right after falling off of his friend’s quad. A supernatural scream derailed his reminiscing.

“Shit, shit, shit, there’s another one of those things!” yelled Adam.

“Let's get back to the fort,” said Jesse, “Can you run?”

“No, my ankle is fucked up.”

Without a word, Jesse hoisted Adam over his shoulder and carried him like a child.

…

The tree line thinned and ahead there was a short, steep hill leading down to Newberry Hill Road. Jesse let go of Adam's legs and Adam slid off Jesse's shoulder.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” said Adam.

The ground was loose, but both of them made it down the hill without injury. They turned onto the road and walked toward town. A deafening scream exploded out of the forest. Jesse spun around and looked up the hill.

Standing on top of the hill was a single reanimate. The creature stood for a moment and stared at Jesse and Adam. It ran down the hill with a dexterity Jesse had never seen in a reanimate. It wore an ancient garb. The fabric was intact and unblemished. Its skin and features were light blue, instead of the darker tint of the typical corpse. It had a visible musculature on its exposed limbs. Inside its all-black eyes were fiery white pupils. It drew in a breath and let out another high-decibel scream.

The strange creature came forward with an air of confidence and lethality. Adam stepped in the creature’s path and cocked back his fist like he was getting ready to throw a baseball. With uncanny speed, the creature raked its long, yellow nails across Adam's cheek splitting the skin. It followed up with a backhand that knocked Adam to the asphalt. Adam clutched his bloodied face and turtled into a fetal position.

Jesse closed the distance between him and the thing. He thrust his boot into its lower abdomen. The kick connected and the creature backpedaled for a few steps. It corrected itself and stood upright again. It locked eyes with Jesse. He could sense its anger. He had stared down thousands of reanimates and had never seen any sign of emotion. This creature wanted to destroy him.

Adam recovered and lunged for the creature's legs. It responded with a swift kick to his chin before he could close his arms around its legs. Adam cried out in agony and rolled onto his back. Blood spewed forth from his newly broken nose.

Jesse's rage ignited at the sight of Adam's blood. He moved in and feinted like a boxer. The creature tried to block a punch that did not come as Jesse lunged. He drove his left shoulder into the thing’s abdomen and locked his hands behind its lead leg. He crouched and drove his weight upwards, picking the thing up off the ground. He pushed his head into the creature's chest and slammed it onto the asphalt. Without hesitation, Jesse mounted the fallen creature and hammered away at it. It twisted and tried to buck him off, but Jesse never let an opponent off their back. He felt the creature’s vitality and its strength as it attempted to free itself. Its skull did not split easily, nor did its neck snap like a dry twig, as a typical reanimate's would have. This was like he was fighting a human, and a particularly strong human at that. His fists were not up to the task of destroying the creature, so Jesse grabbed the creature's chin and its long, braided white hair and wrenched them in opposite directions. Its neck gave way and the once-fierce cre
ature went limp.

Jesse rose, winded and stunned.

Adam was on all fours: blood dripping from the gashes on his cheek, his now-crooked nose, and split lip.

“What the fuck was that?” Adam asked, his voice muddled by a mouthful of blood.

“I have no idea,” Jesse said, helping Adam to his feet, “but I think we're in deep shit if there are more of those.”

Adam spit out a mouthful of blood.

“I'm already in deep trouble, man,” he said. “Look at me. My ankle is destroyed, I'm exhausted, and that thing just turned my face into a blood faucet.”

“It looks bad, but you'll be fine.”

“I'll be fine? Did you see those nails, man? I'll get infected for sure.”

“Then we'll find antibiotics.”

“I had antibiotics in my fuckin’ bag, along with a nice, new knife and a bunch of other shit I needed. Shit we both needed.”

Adam pointed back toward the house and continued, “But there're a whole bunch of dead fucks between us and our stuff. I can't fight them like this.”

“We don’t need that stuff as much as we need to survive.”

“We aren't surviving!” Adam yelled and threw his hands into the air
. “We're just dying slower than everyone else, and you a lot slower than me.”

“We need to move, now.”

“What's the fucking point?” Adam asked as he put his hands on his knees and bent over. He spit another mouthful of blood onto the asphalt.

“I can’t argue that there is a point to living,” Jesse
said, and he put his hand on Adam’s back, “but unless you want to get eaten by that horde back there we need to start moving again. I can carry you, if you'll let me.”