The Lost Gods (19 page)

“You've got a pretty positive outlook.”

“I think most of the truly depressed people are all dead by now, so us optimistic folk are all that’s left.”

“I suppose so.”

Jesse’s energy flagged. Adam was one of those morose individuals that did not survive.

“Let's just get these bikes,” said Jesse. “They're wai
ting for us.”

“Yeah, of course. Sorry, I don't get to talking that much.”

It took hours, but Tim had gotten five working bikes assembled and Jesse inflated their tires with a bike pump. They were not a matching set by any stretch, but Tim seemed to like that each could feasibly serve a different function. He grabbed all the spare tubes he could find and two pumps.

“Now, for the hard part,” said Jesse. "How do we get all these bikes back to the castle?”

“No, that's the fun part,” said Tim. He walked over to a large tarp and pulled it off. Under it was a large goblin's head, made of plaster and paper mache. Under the large head was a metal chassis with three seats. The thing had several wheels and had
Gobble This
written across the sides in bold golden letters.

“You've got to be shitting me,” said Jesse.

“We can haul the bikes on this. It's sturdy enough to get through town and to the keep.”

“You sure?”

Jesse inspected the strange vehicle. It appeared to be put together well enough.

“Yeah.”

“All right. It's not like we have a lot to lose.”

“Just our lives, which, according to you, we are a
lready going to lose, right?”

“Right.”

“Then, let's go.”

They loaded up the machine and wheeled it out onto the street. Once they had gotten it onto the pavement, Tim climbed into the improvised cabin of the monstros
ity.

“How does this thing work?” asked Jesse. He looked at the jury-rigged vehicle, unsure that he wanted to get inside.

“Let me worry about that. Just hop in.”

“Where — exactly?”

“You can climb in the back. There's a seat facing the other way.”

Tim's voice was confident, but Jesse did not like the idea of someone else being in control. His life was u
nstable enough that he did not relish putting his fate in Tim's hands, even for a ten-minute ride back to the castle.

“They're waiting for us, Jesse, we should go now.”

Jesse nodded and climbed into the back of the strange vehicle. Tim pedaled and the thing moved with an ease that surprised Jesse. Tim sped through the neighborhood and swerved around the stalled and abandoned cars that riddled the narrow streets. Once they were out on the highway, Jesse turned in his seat.

“Your cousin must have been an interesting guy.”

“Yeah,” Tim shouted over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the road. “When he wasn't twacked out of his gourd on crystal, he was a fun guy. Real good with an acetylene torch.”

“I knew a guy like that back in Silverdale.”

A Primus song popped into Jesse’s head, at Tim’s mention of his cousin’s drug habit.

So sit back and have a cup of
Joe
And watch the wheels go round
'Cause those damned blue collar tweekers
Have always run this town!

Jesse turned and watched the town grow smaller in the distance. As he stared at the retreating city, he was reminded of a picture his parents used to have of a ghost town. In the
picture, there was a collapsing barn and a cat sitting on the hood of a rusty, red truck. Nothing in the picture seemed abnormal except the cat. The cat just sat and stared for eternity, like it had always been on that truck and always would be. All cities were ghost cities now. Scattered all around the world were giant metropolises cleansed of human life, but still riddled with the artifacts of modern civilization. Places where once-important smart phones, computers, blenders, and the like lay useless and abandoned by their former owners. The thought passed, as Eureka disappeared into the Oregon haze.

“Hang on!” Tim yelled. “I don't know how this thing is going to deal with off-roading!”

Jesse grabbed onto the vertical support beams that his seat was welded onto. Tim directed the vehicle off the highway and into the field. The mad contraption jerked so hard that it sent Jesse into the air. Jesse gripped the beams and held himself in the air like a gymnast doing a ring exercise until the hard shaking stopped.

“Almost there,” Tim shouted. “This thing's pretty rickety, but it'll stay together — I think.”

They were within a few hundred yards of the castle when Tim yelled, “Oh shit!”

“What?”

“They're surrounded.”

Jesse lowered himself into the seat. He worked his axe free and held onto the support beam with his free hand.

“Get me as close to the gate as you can,” said Jesse.

“I won't have to. It looks like the wall's been pushed in.”

Tim pedaled faster and the vehicle rattled like an old house in a windstorm. He brought it to an abrupt stop, and the two ejected themselves from their seats and exploded in a sprint. Dozens of the creatures were pushing their way through the wall, and a few hundred were spread out near the perimeter of the wall. As they ran, Tim cast a sideways glance at Jesse.

“What should we do?” Tim asked, not breaking pace.

“Charge!” Jesse barked. Tim's gripped his dirk. Tim was not a coward, but he was slight of frame and he looked ridiculous charging headfirst into battle. Jesse pulled out in front of Tim. He felt his legs move faster the closer he got to the creatures. Tim strained to keep up the breakneck pace. Instead of stopping and swinging his axe, Jesse lunged into the mass of creatures. He collided with them and they swayed with the force. He lifted a reanimate into the air and slammed it into the ground, shattering the bones in its body. At once it turned into little more than a chomping sack of skin containing the remnants of a skeletal system. Jesse postured up and smashed its skull with a single stroke of his axe. He came to his feet and swung his axe left and right, delivering deep gashes to the creatures around him.

“Behind you!” Blake yelled. A creature grabbed Jesse's neck and tried to bite him, but Jesse ducked under its arm, grabbed its jaw with his free hand, jerked the cre
ature's head down, and brought the axe's handle down on the back of its neck. Its neck gave out and Jesse let the dead thing flop forward into the grass. He hopped backward and kicked another creature, causing it to topple over. Jesse picked apart the creatures several at a time. He would time his first shot with deadly accuracy, and follow up by grabbing the neutralized creature and launching it into the other reanimates. In a few short moments, he had created a pile of hacked, rotten bodies. A few remained standing, but they were unable to get past the obstacle Jesse had created. Jesse went through the collapsed part of the wall. Blake was standing by himself, exhausted, with his mace and shield hanging at his sides.

“Where are the others?” Jesse asked. Blake did not say anything, at first, and just drew in some quick breaths while staring at Jesse.

“Are they dead?” asked Jesse.

“By the gate,” Blake said so quickly that his answer sounded like a single word. Jesse crossed the courtyard and stopped near the
fallen gate. Outside the wall, Jesse spotted Nathan and Danielle facing in opposite directions. A ring of dead reanimates created a temporary shield between them and the encroaching army. The dead had reformed their ranks. Nathan had heard him approach, and he looked over his shoulder.

“Did you guys get the bikes?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah, what happened here?”

“I'll tell you all about it later. Let's get the fuck out of here.”

He and Danielle lowered their weapons and ran through the gate. All three of them went over to Blake. He was hunched over with his hands on his knees, still out of breath. Nathan put his hand on Blake's shoulder, “Can you walk?”

“Yeah.”

“He's exhausted,” said Danielle. “There's no way he's pedaling out of here on a bike.”

“I can do it,” said Blake, but his breathy tone was far from convincing to the others.

“We've got something that we can all ride out on,” said Jesse. “At least for a while.”

“All right,” said Nathan, “I'll get the supplies.”

Nathan grabbed a few large sacks and hoisted them up on his left shoulder. Danielle shouldered a bag full of produce. Jesse grabbed his pack.

“Guys!” Tim yelled, “Help!”

Jesse ran on top of the bodies to get through the breach. He pushed aside a few shambling reanimates like they were nothing more than commuters in a subway. Tim was backpedaling and stabbing at a group of reanimates as he went. He was armed with only a dirk and the creatures were not fazed by his wild thrusts. Jesse jogged over. Before Jesse could reach him, a creature tackled Tim and brought him to the ground. The other two reanimates in the group fell on top of Tim in kind. Jesse brought his axe down on both of their spines and threw them away from Tim. Tim was unconscious, but his dirk protruded from the cheek of the reanimate that had knocked him down. Jesse pulled it out, and wiped it on his pant leg. He tapped Tim on the shoulder. When he got no response, Jesse picked up Tim's legs, hoping to send enough blood back to his brain to wake him up.

“Wake up!” he yelled. After a moment, Tim sucked in a lungful of air and opened his eyes. He grabbed Jesse's ankle.

“What happened? Did I do that?” Tim asked and pointed to the pile of dispatched attackers.

“You got knocked out,” said Jesse. Tim sat up for a moment, his eyes rolled back, and he fell back onto the grass.

“Shit. Help me up.”

“No, stay down for a minute. I'll hold them off.”

Tim lay on the grass, blinking at the sky. Jesse patted him on the chest, and stood up. Nathan and Danielle were nearby. A reanimate lunged for Danielle, but she sidestepped and drove her saber into its face. It toppled over, and she yanked her sword free and continued. She paused for a second when she caught sight of the curious goblin-headed vehicle.

Nathan had sheathed his large sword, and he was holding two large bags of food and supplies. He evaded the creatures as they threw themselves at him. One caught his leg when it lunged for him. Nathan dragged it along for a moment, unhindered by its light weight. A
fter a few feet, he pulled his leg free and stomped on its head.

Blake plodded along at a slow pace, but he looked less exhausted than he had when Jesse last saw him. Jesse refocused on Tim, who was now sitting up, and he o
ffered him a hand. Tim took it and Jesse helped him to his feet. Tim's knees buckled as soon as he rose, and Jesse wrapped his arms around him to stop his fall. Jesse picked him up like a sack of quick-dry cement.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” said Tim.

“It happens,” said Jesse.

“I'm telling Danielle,” Blake managed to get out through some troubled breaths as he passed the two. Jesse smiled. Danielle and Nathan put the supplies i
nside the Goblin machine. They pulled three bikes out of the back. Blake got into the passenger seat of the Goblin and Jesse put Tim into the driver's seat.

“What in the fuck is this thing?” asked Blake.

“Just your run of the mill kinetic sculpture,” said Tim.

“Your cousin was a DnD guy wasn’t he?” asked Blake.

“Yep, he was,” said Tim.

“Can you handle driving this thing?” Jesse asked. He looked into Tim's eyes to
check for dilated pupils. Tim nodded and pushed Jesse away.

“Thanks for the concern, but I've got this.”

Jesse looked at Blake. Blake's normally pale face was flushed and covered in a thick sheen of sweat. Tim started pedaling. Jesse backed away as the vehicle made a wide turn toward the highway. Nathan wheeled two bicycles in front of Jesse.

“Take your pick,” he said. Jesse did not give much thought to the decision and grabbed the bike closest to him. The group pedaled across the field. The ground was bumpy, and they struggled getting the bikes through the tough terrain. The bikes were road bikes. The tires were thin and none of them had real suspensions. Jesse pe
daled to the left side of the Goblin and spoke to Tim.

“I don't think we'll be able to make it far tonight, but if we can make it five miles down the road, then I think we can rest for a while.”

Tim nodded.

Jesse passed the Goblin and motioned to Nathan and Danielle.

“Five miles. Can you make it?”

“No problem,” said Nathan.

“Yeah,” said Danielle. She took another long look at the Goblin. “Will that thing make it?”

“It has to,” said Jesse.

Eleven

The Long Trek

They pedaled for hours, tolerating the pain and discomfort, and when they could no longer handle the pain they would walk. As daylight faded, they would find a place to stop for the night on the side of the road. They sat huddled in the freezing cold eating away their meager supplies. Nathan and Blake would hunt with Tim’s bow, but that yielded only birds and squirrels. At night, the warmth of their interwoven bodies competed against the persistent chill of winter. In those dire moments, they did what all survivors throughout history had done: they clung to life.

Winter passed and rain replaced the dry cold with a wet one. The first night they slept uncovered in the rain
, they complained and cursed the weather. Soon enough, they grew accustomed to the discomfort. Everyone but Jesse became thinner and harder, as the miles of asphalt between them and Eureka lengthened. His body remained unchanged like a wax sculpture. He let the others take the larger portions at mealtime, and he subsisted on berries and non-perishable food scavenged from the wrecked cars they came across.

Jesse took in the beauty of America as the countr
yside unfolded before him. Without the windshield and the comfy interior of a car to provide a buffer between him and the landscape, he was able to see California for what it was — gorgeous. The land was empty of people and that made it all the more striking. He felt like he was riding through Albert Bierstadt’s “Call of the Wild.” It was his father’s favorite painting and a reprint of it hung above their fireplace. In those calm moments, it all felt worth it: this world was worth saving even after all the destruction and death had taken their toll.

Tim came down with pneumonia, his immune system weakened by the infected cuts on his face. They stopped in the redwood forest to give Tim a chance to recover. Tim would sleep half the day and spend his waking hours shaking, refusing to eat. Jesse kept his distance. He would spend the days looking for food in the forest. He wanted to be around the trees; they comforted him. On the fourth day of their respite in the forest, Danielle found him with his neck bent back staring up at the canopy of the forest.

“How is he?” Jesse asked. He looked over his shoulder at her.

“I guess I walk pretty loud,” she said.

“Not really,” said Jesse. He looked forward again, “Listening is an important survival skill these days.”

“Yeah, I guess we got spoiled in our little castle.”

“We had a sort of castle too. I stayed in a few castles, but only yours was made of stone. It all seems like a big waste of time now.”

“Those castles kept you alive.”

“No, they didn't. My ability to leave things behind kept me alive.”

She made a sound and diverted her eyes.

“Is he going to live?” he asked. He turned and walked toward the trunk of a redwood. He touched the bark. It was so solid and strong. California had fallen to the armies of the dead, but the tree stood tall.

“If it's viral, he's got a decent chance. If it's bacterial, yeah, not good.”

“You know a bit about this stuff. I thought Blake was the first aid guy.”

“I don't know much, but I was in the Peace Corps for two years in Central Asia. Pneumonia was a major cause of death out there, so I'm familiar with it.”

Jesse nodded and walked deeper into the forest. She followed him. There was no rain that day. Sunbeams lit the space between the massive trunks.

“You've been distant, not exactly a quality most pe
ople want in a leader.”

“I like coming out here.”

“Why is that?”

“It reminds me that even when things around me die that some things survive us all. Long after we are all dead, these trees will still be here. All the humans in the world could die, and these trees would keep growing. They're safer now than they were before.”

“Well, we aren't any safer than we were before, Jesse, and Tim might die.”

Her words ground into him. He stopped and stood in place, still facing away from her.

“We are following you because we believe you are our best bet for survival, and right now you aren't doing a whole fuck of a lot to encourage that notion.”

“Get one thing straight,” Jesse said. He turned his neck enough that he could see her in his peripheral v
ision and continued, “This journey isn't about saving any of us. I want to find out what happened. I want to find out what this lady from my dreams knows. I want to find out who, or what, is responsible for the dead coming back to life. When I find out that information, I'm going to do my damnedest to pay back all that has been lost tenfold. This isn't about survival. It's about revenge, and it’s about justice for those that died.”

“Revenge? This is all about revenge for you?”

“Yes, there isn't much else to live for these days.”

He knelt down and sifted through the leaves on the ground looking for fallen nuts.

“You know what Confucius said?” Danielle asked.

“Dig two graves.”

“Yeah, that’s right. So, what's the point of revenge?”

“What's the point of sitting around waiting to die?” he shot back. Jesse stood up and faced her.

“Things aren't going to go back to the way they were before. The age of humans is over, as far as I can tell, but I refuse to let us go out like whipped dogs. Being a person means something to me, and it never did before. But now that we are going extinct, I'll be damned if we are going to go out like a bunch of punks. I've watched everyone I've ever loved die, and horribly at that. I'm going to pay that back, or I'm going to get ripped apart trying to. When all is said and done, it's not going to be two graves that get dug — it's going to be a fucking landfill. If you want to live a long and happy life, follow someone else.”

There was silence for a moment. Jesse saw tears well up in Danielle’s eyes. She bit her lip and swallowed hard.

“I can’t live a long and happy life, Jesse.”

“None of us can. Not anymore.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’ve got a ticking time bomb inside of me.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“No, the opposite actually. I have an IUD.”

“And?”

“And if you knew anything about them, you’d know they need to come out after a while. Mine’s overdue. I’m on borrowed time.”

“We’re all on borrowed time.”

“The others don’t have to be. You don’t have to be, you fucking asshole! We left everything we knew because you brought down — whatever those screaming things are — on our heads. We were safe before you came along. But that doesn’t make any difference now because we are here and we are following you. No one else has any idea what to do, not Nathan, not me, not anyone. It’s all up to you Jesse, so stop acting like a fucking dick and make it matter. Make what we threw away for you, or because of you, matter. Whatever is going on in that head of yours, sort it out. You have people depending on you now.”

Hot tears were streaming down her face and her hands were trembling.

“I’d punch you right now if I thought it would make me feel better,” she said.

He shook his head and left her standing there. He worked his way deeper into the forest. After a few se
conds, Danielle screamed in frustration and went back to the others. When the sun began to set, Jesse came back to the camp carrying some fruits and nuts that he had foraged.

Danielle took what he offered. Her face was clear and she was calm again.

“Sit down,” she said. Jesse sat without a word.

“I’ve got to do something about that mop of hair,” she said.

“You don’t like my style?” he joked.

“You
look like you’d be in your element pushing a shopping cart full of odds and ends on Burnside Avenue in Portland,” said Blake.

Tim laughed. His laugh turned into a wet, hard cough. At the sound, everyone’s faces went dour.

“I don’t like lice,” said Danielle.

“The beard stays,” said Jesse.

“Fine.”

She sat on a large stone beside him and used her knife to saw off the nasty, long strands of Jesse’s hair. When she finished, his head felt five pounds lighter and much colder.

…

Jesse was alone in blackness: a lost champion in the void. He felt eyes on him. They stared hard and tried to bore holes through him, but he saw nothing. Ahead, b
ehind, around — nothing. He looked down. He was ankle deep in blood. The crimson surface rippled. A distant gong blast reverberated off the surface of the pool of blood. Ahead was a shifting white vision. He heard what sounded like wooden chimes. Splashes, hundreds of them. White dots in pairs stretched out for eternity. Milky eyes. She walked forward. Bones hung on sodden strings from her neck and shoulders. Her hair was clumped together and white. The crone. The others walked forward. The screaming creatures. The
galla
. Their mouths opened in unison and a powerful scream shook him.

“Die,” she said.

…

He shot up and scanned their camp. Nothing stirred. It was daylight. His shirt was soaked and his brow was moist. He wanted to wake them all and leave, but they needed their rest.

They stayed there for another two days until Tim was strong enough to stand and talk. Tim insisted that they start moving again, if only a few miles a day. He grew stronger after a week. They resumed their grueling pace, since it was obvious that Tim could handle it. Another week went by and they were several miles north of San Francisco.

“We've got to stop here,” Nathan yelled at Jesse. Jesse brought his bike to a stop and hopped onto the asphalt. His legs were stiff from the long ride. The others stopped in kind.

“You tired?” asked Jesse.

“Of course, but that's not why — the bridges are all out. That was one of the last moves the military tried to contain the problem. All the bridges going into San Francisco or to the East Bay are gone. Blown up.”

“Fuck!” Jesse yelled.

“If you really want to go that way, I guess we can swim,” said Blake, and he smirked.

“This isn't the time for jokes,” said Danielle.

“Sorry, gallows humor.”

“There's another way right?” asked Jesse.

“Sure,” said Nathan. He pointed to the east, “We can take the country roads through Sonoma, and then we can cut south once we get to Interstate 5.”

“Maybe we can find some wine that might lift our spirits a bit,” said Blake.

“I like how he thinks,” said Tim.

“I wish I could have seen San Francisco one more time,” said Jesse, “I loved that city.”

“All the more reason not to see it,” said Nathan. “It won't be the same.”

He patted Jesse on the shoulder.

“It's gone to shit, just like the rest of them.”

“Stockton might have improved though,” said Blake.

“It's certainly safer than it used to be,” joked Nathan.

“I can't say I've ever been there,” said Jesse.

They ate some food, took a nap, and started pedaling east. Their breaks were always short. When the breaks ran long, the journey became harder: legs would cramp and feet would stiffen and swell.

Jesse had never seen Napa before. It looked empty and wild now that no one was tending the vineyards and open fields. As they entered Napa, their hopes of finding a treasure trove of wine and food were dashed. The estates nearest the road were ransacked and left unguarded to the elements. They saw an estate up on a large hill with obvious fortifications. Jesse turned onto the gravel road. A rifle shot rang out and echoed throughout the valley.

“You just keep fucking moving,” a distant voice yelled. “If you come one more step — I'll send you all to the grave. I've got plenty of bullets and there're only five of you.”

When Jesse tried to convince the man, as he had done back in Eureka, a second shot rang out and Jesse felt the bullet whiz by his head. The message was clear, so they continued on down the road. The rest of that day no one spoke, except for essential communication. They pedaled for hours after the sun went down, and they woke up early the following day and rode hard. By noon, they were within a half-day’s ride of Lodi. The next day when they entered Lodi, Blake and Nathan scavenged for supplies while the others rested. They hobbled back at sunset with packs overfull and heavy.