What Comes After (Book 1): A Shepherd Cometh (11 page)

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Authors: Peter Carrier

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: What Comes After (Book 1): A Shepherd Cometh
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Tom grabbed Ben with both hands and flung him to the ground. They boy bounced on the soft, green earth and gasped, his wind clearly knocked from him. Eric stepped towards the pair, hands raised. “Just a second-”

The Shepherd didn't need to think about it. He saw Eric approaching and in his current state of mind, deemed that action to be threat enough. Unbidden, the revolver was in his hand and leveled at the other man. Eric's eyes widened a bit and before he could speak further or take another step, the young man thumbed back the hammer. The Shepherd's voice was deadly quiet when he said, “Only a matter of time before they come to check out the screams. Maybe they need to find something to slow them down when they get here.”

The two men watched each other from either side of the gun, their whole world reduced to the figure on the other side of the revolver's sight. Somewhere between them, a sentiment drifted along paths of thought that intersected at a single point:
decoy.
When the Shepherd saw the terrible dawn of recognition on the other man's face, he spoke again in that same calm, quiet tone.

“Let's keep it simple, friend: you get us to holding. No more, no less and there's no trouble. Otherwise...” The young man squeezed the trigger, the click of the GP's hammer being released audible even over the gurgling of the creek. Maintaining eye contact with the other man, the Shepherd caught the hammer with his thumb, easing it forward until it came to rest against the plate.

Eric was tense. With careful concern, he asked, “What happens when we get there?”

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.” To himself, the Shepherd thought,
I have an idea, but needn't concern you with the particulars just yet.

Weapon still pointed at the older man, the Shepherd turned to the child. Ben had begun to cough but was still laying on the moist, mossy ground. Seeing the Shepherd looking down at him, the boy tried to ease his coughing fit.

“Are you coming with us?” The Shepherd's voice was deep, his eyes blazing with intensity. Absorbed by the gaze, Ben could only nod in awe. “Then you do what I say, when I say it.” Another series of rapid fire nods. “On your feet.” The boy stood, regaining his breath with one more short cough.

“One more thing,” the Shepherd said while looking from the child to Eric and back again. “The next time you put us in danger, you're on your own.”

Eric seemed aghast at the statement. “I know you're sore, but there's no need to take it out on the boy.”

Tom blinked at the other man. “Let's do ourselves a favor and keep quiet for a while.”

After making sure Ben was ready to move under his own power, Tom again spoke to Eric. “Lead on.”

Eric was working his jaw fiercely when he resumed his march downstream. Tom and Ben followed, much closer this time. They walked briskly and with renewed purpose, listening for the tell tale rattle of branches or rustle of leaves that would announce the arrival of the creatures believed to be following them. They moved with speed, hoping the brook would mask much of their noise. Still, they left nothing to chance and spoke not a word while they were in passage. Truth be told, the three needed time to settle and collect their thoughts. One and all felt wronged in some fashion by each of the others, so they used the journey to walk off as much of their anger as possible.

Book II: Holding

2.1

Before long, they arrived at another break in the pines. Stopping at the last row of trees, the small group surveyed the clearing before them. To their right, the creek continued on straight ahead some forty yards or more before returning to the shaded tranquility of the forest. To their left, a gentle slope blanketed in green grass climbed fifty feet to a solid wooden fence that stood nine feet high. The roof of a house could be made out above the top of that fence. Three pairs of eyes checked the fence, clearing and as much of the forest as could be seen from their vantage.

“What now?” Tom asked in a hushed tone, still scanning the fence and clearing.

Eric replied in similar fashion, his own eyes taking in every detail. “We should swing 'round the far side of the house. Fence'll hide us from view 'till we're right behind the garage. Still need to be quiet, though.” He looked skyward, shielding his eyes with a hand. “Pret' near noon. Made good time. Better get inside soon, though. Case we're still bein' tailed.”

Eric glanced at the revolver in the younger mans hand. “If you need that here, we're dead already.”

Tom made a sour face. “You'll forgive me if I wait to see that for myself.”

Eric shrugged. “Just figured you'd want both hands free.”

After another minute of watching and waiting, the coast still seemed clear. When they moved, they followed Eric's lead and remained in the tree line as long as possible. They crossed the clearing quickly, reaching the fence and stopping only long enough to ensure they were still together. Eric remained in the lead, keeping the stout wooden wall an inch from his left shoulder. They reached a break in the boards and Eric held up his right hand, signaling the others to stop. When they did, he pointed and waited for them to look.

There was a building ten feet from where the fence ended. It appeared to be a two car garage that, while having seen better days, was still completely intact. Indicating a window near the closest corner, Eric checked the fence and wall before crouching and crossing to the garage. Several quick, duck-walking steps brought him to the wall beneath the open window. Looking back at the others, Eric pointed at his eyes, then to Tom and the fence. When the Shepherd nodded understanding, Eric pointed to himself and then to the far corner of the garage. Tom nodded again and waited for the other man to reach the new post. Once at the other corner, Eric slowly peered around and after a moment, signaled them to cross with a wave of his hand.

Tom took Ben by the shoulder and looked around the end of the fence, searching along the interior of the wooden wall. Seeing nothing, he and Ben made their way to the near corner with quiet haste. They crouched beneath the open window as they had seen their guide do and waited for that man to rejoin them. Eric continued his silent signaling, pointing to Tom's long knife, then the window. The Shepherd slowly rose, just enough to see inside the garage.

Boxes, bags, boards, wood and other sundries were arrayed within. Some were in piles and the rest in stacks. Some were in the middle of the floor but most were spread along the walls. Tom gave a thumbs-up to Eric before pushing the window open. He then reached over to Ben and hoisted the child up onto the sill. When the child had climbed through and disappeared on the other side of the portal, the two men looked at each other.

Now it was Tom's turn to pantomime, pointing emphatically at Eric and then the window. Slowly taking his rifle from his back, Eric sent it through first and leaned it against the inside wall. He then entered the window less gracefully than Ben but no less quickly. The Shepherd gave him a three count to get clear before joining his companions.

Once inside, Eric motioned for Tom to move away from the window. Doing so provided the older man enough space to reach a heavy wooden shutter above the open portal. Drawing it slowly across, Eric pulled the shutter along the runners framing the window until it reached the cross bar along the right pane of the sill. While the garage lost light, it was never fully plunged into darkness. Several smaller windows allowed sunlight to flow in from where the walls met the roof. Hidden from the outside world for at least a short time, the three finally allowed their collective breaths to be released.

“This is holding?” Tom asked softly while continuing to scan the garage, noting the partial flooring on what seemed to be a second story over the rear portion of the structure.

Eric shook his head. “Nah, it's the house on the other side.” He pointed to the wall opposite the window they gained entry through and motioned Tom over to it.

The older man moved to a couple beams that were connected by a smaller pieces of wood every foot or so. When Eric placed his boot on the first of those pieces and began ascending the beams, Tom recognized the ladder for what it was. When Eric reached the top, Tom had Ben climb up next and the Shepherd brought up the rear. Staying low at the top or risk banging their heads on ceiling beams, the two men crawled on all fours to one of the narrow windows at the base of the roof. Ben moved along beside them, ducking his head under the occasional rafter.

From one side of the window, Eric indicated the house in question. It was so close, Tom marveled they had not seen it when they moved around the fence. It could not have been more than twelve feet away. Tom noticed a beam on either side of the window, which ran up to a window on the second floor of the house. The window on the other side of those beams was shuttered similarly to the one they had just come through and was currently closed.

The Shepherd frowned. “So, you climb out across one of these beams and if you don't lose your balance on the way, hope you can hold the shutter on that window open long enough to get inside? Seems a little too James Bond for me.” He looked at Eric, saw the other man crawling over to something covered by a tarp in the middle of the floor.

The older man rolled back just enough of the plastic covering to begin removing an extension ladder. Once exposed, Eric grabbed the first rung and looked back at the Shepherd. “You ready?”

“For what?” Tom's frown deepened. “I still don't see why this is necessary.”

“Look down, but don't stick your head out too far.”

He did and was filled with dread. Equal parts rage, horror and disgust rose in the Shepherd, threatening to overwhelm his reason and send him flying toward Eric as ball of seething, white-hot, righteous judgment.

Tom heard Ben ask a simple question. “Are they still there?”

The boy's anxious curiosity instantly dispelled the Shepherd's frenzy and temporarily sedated the portion of him that demanded bloody vengeance.
Not now
, he thought.
But definitely and soon. A reckoning will come. They cannot count any of worth among their number. No proven human would condone such a thing.

Seeing Tom tremble with barely contained fury seemed answer enough for Ben. Noting the Shepherd's visible wrath, Eric arched an eyebrow. “Don't approve? The bottom of the house is buttoned up. There's no way in without some pretty serious tools. So we come and go through the window.”

Through gritted teeth, the Shepherd hissed. “You have to feed them.”

Eric nodded slowly, as though listening to a developmentally challenged person tell him the sky was blue. “Anyway, we need this to get in. Soon as I start moving it to the window, they're gonna get real interested in the front of the house. If we're lucky, they won't pay us any mind 'till we lock the ladder in place and start climbing across. So... ready?” This time when he asked, Eric tilted his head to the side, still regarding Tom as he would a 'slow' child. If it occurred to Eric that Tom was talking about the guardians outside as opposed to the occupants within, it seemed to make no difference.

Seeing him unresponsive, Eric gave voice to Tom's thought. “You come this far. Might as well go a bit further. Be hesitant or pensive once we're in the house.” This was reasoning Tom could understand, so he swallowed his anger and nodded agreement.

With that, the two men began moving the ladder, Eric dragging it across the floor and Tom running it up along the beams. It was just long enough to reach the window of the house and still have its textured feet remain firmly on the floor of the garage's second story. There was a noticeable 'thump' when the ladder hit the side of the house, and the three in the garage knew their luck had run out. Groaning, howling and clinking sounds careened through the small window and made conversation impossible. Had Tom not been watching Eric lock the feet of the ladder, he would have entirely missed the other man tell him to go.

There was no glass to bypass. Tom lay on his belly at the base of the ladder, grabbed hold of the beams and pulled himself through the window. It was awkward at first. He had never climbed a ladder at such a shallow incline, which required him to use his knees as an additional point of contact. That made it difficult to avoid looking at the ground.

Seeing the ground twelve to fifteen feet beneath him was of little consequence. The Turned that ran, jumped, clawed and growled at him while he half-climbed, half-crawled across the ladder were a distraction, however. Tom even felt a rush of air as one of the creatures took a great, pouncing step and leaped, swinging its arms high overhead and grasping wildly with filthy hands. Those sickly, bony fingers came within a foot of Tom's knee before stopping. They seemed to hang in mid-air for a moment before plunging nearly straight down, the monster's body wrenched back to earth by the chain collared around its neck. Desperate, hungry eyes locked on Tom with singular purpose, staring accusingly at the Shepherd while it's mouth worked to restore air to its lungs.

All told, six of the beasts loped and stalked beneath the ladder, each one determined to reach the men and boy above them. Each one unaware or unconvinced of the continued futility of their actions. All of them were tethered to a large stone in the front of the yard between the house and garage. Some were tied with chain, others with what looked to be heavy cable of some kind. Coupled with the placement of the stone, the leashes gave each of the Turned complete coverage of the front and one side of both buildings.

If the grunts and cries coming from the other side of the house were any indicator, a similar set-up existed over there. The very idea physically sickened the Shepherd, but he continued in spite of the angry knot in his stomach. Finally reaching the window, Tom looked back over his shoulder. Seeing Ben already halfway across urged him to open the window with great haste. Noting two bolts at the top and bottom of the window, Tom worked them both loose and then flung the shutter to the side. While he was more concerned with getting clear of the ladder so the boy could make his own climb unimpeded, the Shepherd still gave a thought to what lay in the room beyond the window.

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