Wormwood Dawn (Episode IX) (4 page)

Eric pursed his lips, putting his hands on his hips and staring off into the woods. The guys were probably spot on. If they went looking for him, it might be a waste of time. If he was dead, looking for him would be pointless. If he was injured, they’d never find him. They couldn’t just go wandering around the forest yelling his name.

“Okay,” Eric said. “So we go on as usual, then?”

Drew stopped, nodding slowly, a look of resignation on his face. “We looked for Toby because he’s a kid, and we all wanted to. If Dan left willingly, as we all know he did, then he doesn’t want to be found. He’ll be back.”

“Well then,” Jake said. “I say we go on and head to Columbus as planned. The power grid needs fixed, and Grace wants a new laptop.”

“What the hell for?” Drew asked.

“She can still do her work,” Jake said. “Plus, having a few good ones is a good idea, just in case we run across some kind of network like the one we were using at Dan’s house. Who knows how many nerds are out there still?”

“Probably not many,” Eric said. “Unless they found some tougher sumbitches to latch onto.”

Jake laughed. Drew shook his head and smirked.

“Let’s get ready, then,” Drew said. “We’ll take Eric’s new Jeep.”

“I’m going this time,” Jake said. “I’m tired of babysitting.”

Travis sat next to Grace at her laptop as she scrolled through the digital photos of her lab subjects. Travis was dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open in a horrified expression. The photos detailed various types of infections that Grace’s team had studied in her time since the comet. She had photos of partially mutated humans and animals, various types of fungal cases, and even a collection of common plants that had succumbed to the mutative effects.

The humanoid mutants varied greatly. There were more than just stalkers here, Travis realized, there were different types based on the host’s nature. There were bipedal mutants, stalker types that ran on all fours, skinners, and strange fluke-like creatures that lived in aquatic environments; all once human. But no matter what the type, they all had one thing in common.

They all started off as ghouls—as Dan had called them.

“In this stage,” Grace began, “they’re pretty harmless. All they do is wander around looking for a place to nest. Once the infection takes hold, the victim begins eating incessantly. They’ll attack humans, animals, eat raw meat, rotting meat. Everything. Then they become these ghoul things and seek out a place to transform. They build nests, cocoon themselves, and then the mutations begin.”

“That’s just crazy,” Travis said. “And what they become all depends on their personality?”

“Not necessarily,” Grace corrected him. “Their physiology.”

“Dan said that the Robert creature was a serial killer,” Travis said. “But there are also sociopaths that don’t become murderers. Ruthless business men, actors, you know.”

“Right. So those bizarre sentient mutants may be even more common than we think.”

“Did you capture one?”

“No,” Grace said. “Until now, I never knew they existed. But it’s interesting how the one the others fought was able to reawaken the dead.”

“I couldn’t figure that one out,” Travis admitted. “I can’t think of any reason why a dead body would be able to get up and start walking around.”

“It’s obviously something to do with the pathogen,” Grace said. “They were those who died immediately from the infection. I guess it lay dormant inside them while they rotted away, but then came to life once the creature activated it. It must be some catalyst or something.”

“What about the people who were killed here?” Travis asked. “Mason, Melanie, and the others. They weren’t infected, but they mutated anyway.”

“I don’t know,” Grace said. “Maybe they were infected initially, but fought it off long enough to die of something else, then it took over.”

“But they were dead, man,” Travis said. “And Melanie was pregnant.”

“Watch this,” Grace said, clicking around in some folders until she found a short video. “This is a flatworm. Watch how it reproduces.”

As Travis watched, the slimy little thing on the screen grew a small appendage that gradually enlarged until it resembled another flatworm. Then, it broke off, becoming a separate lifeform. Travis grinned.

“Wow, man,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I didn’t know flatworms did that.”

“This one’s special,” Grace said. “It was a new species. But you get what I’m trying to show you. Maybe the offspring was a genetic clone of some type, not an actual… baby.”

“Well,” Travis said, leaning back. “Whatever it was, it was freaky.”

Dan and Bill sat on the front porch, sipping whiskey and smoking while they chatted. Linda was out in the front yard, pruning her plants. Dan watched her casually as he listened to Bill tell him their story. From what the man said, the two of them had watched in horror as the world crumbled, but remained safe in Bill’s house. Linda had moved in, as her own home had been destroyed. Her husband and children had been killed.

“She loved those kids,” Bill said. “She was a good mother, just like her own mother. The father, well, he was alright I guess. He cared more about his job than anything. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he eventually left if the plague hadn’t have come.”

“Who knows what anyone would have done?” Dan said. “I probably would have drank myself to death.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you would have opened your eyes and realized that drinking yourself to death is no way to go.”

Dan held up his glass, shaking his head. “And here I am drinking again.”

Bill chuckled. “This is called relaxing,” he said. “Just relaxing and enjoying this beautiful day.”

Dan had to agree. It
was
a beautiful day. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the breeze was warm and inviting. Even the smell of the grass was pleasant, and the sounds of the bees, who had surprisingly survived, filled him with a sense of peace.

“What really gets me,” Bill said. “Is how many went apeshit. That’s what happens when you rely on the government to take care of you. Once the government is gone, you’re on your own. Too many people don’t realize that. They built their lives around being dependent on others, and never learned to do anything for themselves. Even you, despite what you think, were more prepared than they were.”

“Maybe,” Dan said. “I think I survived mostly because I quit giving a shit.”

Bill laughed out loud, getting Linda’s attention. She shook her head and went back to her work. But then, Bill stopped laughing, and his haze was focused down the road. Dan looked in that direction, seeing the slightest sign of a dark pickup slowly rolling down the road. Bill stood, grabbing his rifle. Dan’s hand went to his side, making sure his revolver was still there.

“Linda,” Bill said. “Go on inside. Somebody’s coming.”

Linda stood, looking off in the distance as she came up to the porch. “I’ll be fine, daddy,” she said. “I’m not afraid of anyone.”

“Do what he says,” Dan said. “I’m guessing whoever this is hasn’t seen a pretty girl in quite a long time.”

She looked at him for a moment, then lowered her head and went inside. Dan and Bill stood still on the porch, waiting patiently as the pickup approached, picking up speed.

“That truck looks familiar,” Bill said. “I think so anyway.”

“Who is it?”

Bill shook his head. “It belonged to a guy I know in Bean Blossom. Ted was his name. He’s dead, though.”

“How do you know it’s his truck?”

“The lights on the top,” Bill said. “Other than that, I don’t know.”

Dan’s mind darkened as he watched the truck creep up to the property. It had been a long time since he had met strangers on the street. Though he had no reason to be suspicious, it was better to be safe than sorry. Whoever was in the truck was obviously not interested in a simple meeting. A person or persons interested in making new friends would likely not creep up on them, but would make themselves known.

He and Bill would have to be cautious.

Though he had the revolver, Dan’s only other weapon was the buck knife in his belt, hidden at the small of his back. Bill had his rifle, which would likely be of little use if there was a firefight. Even so, he stepped down, and Bill followed, rifle in hand.

The pickup stopped in front of the house, and Dan could see two men in the cab, and two in the bed. The men in the bed hopped out, bearing shotguns, and the passenger stepped out, unarmed it seemed. As soon as Dan saw his face, his mind went back to his time in Robert’s basement. The man was familiar, and his strange smile told Dan that the recognition was mutual.

Mike.

Dan looked at Bill, who gave him a questioning look. “You know this guy?” Bill asked.

“Yeah,” Dan said, slowly stepping forward.

“Dan,” Mike said as he and his friends approached. “I see you survived. That’s cool.”

Dan looked at Mike’s friends, who didn’t look very friendly. They glared back at him, telling Dan they weren’t here for a social visit. Mike’s smug grin confirmed it.

“What’s going on, Mike?” Dan asked.

Mike looked at his two friends, still wearing that smug smile. The other two began to grin as well. “Oh,” he said. “Just scoping out the area, looking for new territory. Nothin’ much.”

“This is
my
territory,” Bill said. “And you’re on my property.”

Mike’s eyes turned to Bill, giving him an indifferent look. Dan could tell that Mike was looking him over, weighing his threat level, he supposed. “Well,” Mike continued. “That’s all well and good, old man, but we’re all trying to build something here. This area looks good for planting, much better than the hilly areas. That’s why we’re here. Crops need to be planted, and it looks like you’ve got the land and the skill to be of use.”

“Of use to whom?” Bill said, cocking his head.

Mike laughed. “The community,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You want to be part of a community, don’t you?”

“We’re fine just where we are,” Bill said.

“You should leave, Mike,” Dan added. “We’re good. Move along.”

Mike’s grin faded, replaced by a strange hillbilly glare much like his companions’. “It don’t look like you belong here, Dan,” he said. “You’re a loner, and this old man don’t seem like your type of friend.”

He took a step forward, putting his hands in his pockets. “I know you were looking for your friends when we split ways that last time,” he said. “I take it you found them?”

Dan stayed silent, but lowered his head, keeping his eyes on Mike.

“You did,” Mike said, smiling. “So, are they here?”

“No,” Dan said.

Mike looked to his companions. “Hmm. So where are they, then? You got some kind of group? We could use some more men.”

“They’re not interested,” Dan said. “Neither am I.”

“You need to move along, son,” Bill said, gripping his rifle.

Mike’s expression soured, and he reached behind him to retrieve a handgun, which he let hang at his side. “I don’t think you understand, old man,” he said. “There’s four of us, and two of you, and we insist that you cooperate.”

“Cooperate with whom?” Dan said. “You?”

Dan pulled out his revolver, cocking back the hammer. Mike looked at it, grinning crookedly, then looked back up into Dan’s eyes.

“I thought we were friends, Dan,” he said. “And now you’re pulling a gun? Are you gonna shoot all of us?”

“Maybe,” Dan said. “Maybe not. But I’m definitely starting with you.”

Mike’s companions raised their rifles, pointing them right at Dan. His heart pounded wildly, but he maintained his composure, waiting for Mike to make the first move.

“Why don’t you put that down, Dan,” Mike said. “Like I said, there’s four of us and two of you. What are the odds you’ll get all of us before we get you?”

“Why don’t you come find out?”

Mike motioned for one of his companions to step forward. “Give your gun to Russ,” he said. “No harm done.”

Russ approached, letting his rifle point to the ground. Dan held out his revolver, flipping it to face the grip toward the man. Russ smiled as he came, and Dan locked eyes with him. He reached behind him quickly, snatching his knife from its sheath, jabbing it in Russ’s gut. As Russ groaned and bent down in agony, Dan flipped his revolver around and stuck it under Russ’s chin, pulling the trigger. Another gunshot sounded as Bill took out the other man.

“Fuckers!” Mike shouted as he fled.

Mike’s driver began firing a fully automatic rifle in their direction. Dan dropped Russ, fleeing as the bullets whizzed by him. Bill took cover behind a pile of rocks. The pickup’s tires squealed as it tore away and sped down the road.

“Jesus Christ,” Dan mumbled, wiping the blood and brains from his cheek.

Bill stood, a look of horror on his face. “This ain’t good,” he said.

Linda burst through the screen door, a rifle in her hands. “What the hell was that?”

Dan shoved his revolver in its holster, grabbing his knife from Russ’s gut. “We gotta get out of here,” he said, desperately. “They’ll be back.”

Bill’s face was dark and terrified. “And go where?” he asked. “This is my home.”

Dan shook his head, putting his hand on Bill’s shoulder. “Look,” he said. “It sounded to me like Mike has a group. A big one. If so, they will definitely be back, and they will kill you.”

“We’re not afraid,” Linda said. “We’ll fight them off. We’ve fought all the freaks off so far.”

“No,” Dan insisted. “Come with me. People are a lot more dangerous than the freaks.”

“But this is my home,” Bill said. “I ain’t leavin’.”

Dan looked at Linda, whose face was forlorn and shocked. “Linda,” he said, trailing off.

Linda shook her head, putting her hands over her face. “Daddy, he’s right,” she said, sadly. “We gotta go. We knew we wouldn’t be safe forever.”

Bill got a sour look, but lowered his head, cursing under his breath.

“Bill,” Dan said. “We’ll be safer with my group. There’s quite a few of us, and we’re armed to the teeth.”

“Goddamnit,” Bill said. “Why did you have to start shit?”

“There was no choice,” Dan said. “He would have killed the two of you if I wasn’t here.”

“How do you know that?” Bill asked. “Do you know that guy?”