Apocalypse Atlanta (64 page)

She was still screaming when she reached out with the bat gripped in both hands as she jabbed sharply into her mother’s side.  The end of the bat made contact with the woman’s ribs, and Jessica barely felt the impact as she pushed with body and arms.

Her mother rolled off the far side of the bed in a flail of arms and swirl of sheets and nightgown, landing with a heavy thump on the floor next to the wall.  Jessica saw her father staring up at the ceiling, sightless eyes motionless amid a face that was splattered with blood.  His neck had been laid open, across the front and up both sides, one bite at a time.  As his wife was thrown off him, the hand that had been across his chest was pulled to one side, flopping down on the bed next to him lifelessly.

Jessica froze, the bat still in both hands and extended over the bed, over the body, as she stared at the carnage on the bed.  There was just so much blood, so much it hadn’t even soaked into the mattress yet.  Pools of it were rippling next to her father’s body as the mattress settled when her mother rolled off.  Jessica suddenly drew a ragged breath that shuddered through her mouth and produced a strangling, sobbing sound as her body reminded her it needed her to breathe.

A head, a pair of shoulders, part of a chest, sat up on the far side of the bed.  The head turned to her, and Jessica screamed as she saw Sharon, saw the thing that used to be her mother, staring at her with empty eyes and a slack expression.  Fresh blood coated her face, dripped down the front of her nightgown.  Her teeth were red and had bits of . . . stuff stuck between them, visible as she made a chewing motion.

Sharon Patterson gazed blankly at her daughter without recognition as she struggled to her feet, her flailing arms beating at, clutching at, the wall and the bed.  Jessica stood frozen as the . . . creature staggered back upright and turned as if about to collapse back on the bed.

The shock of the bat’s impact surprised her.  Jessica blinked as Sharon stumbled back and sideways.  She didn’t realize she’d swung until the vibration of the metal hitting her mother’s shoulder ran up the bat and through her arms.  Jessica watched her mother catch herself on the edge of the window and slowly start to straighten.  Jessica was swinging again before she registered the decision, and Sharon crashed backwards.  Glass shattered, wood splintered, and suddenly her mother was gone.

Jessica blinked, her sluggish thoughts not up to the task of processing what was happening.  She looked at the bat in her hands, then back at the window.  Finally, feeling stupid, she took a stumbling step forward, catching herself on the wall next to the broken window, and looked out.  Nothing, just open air and the trees beyond the fence.  Then it occurred to her to look down.  She craned her head outside a little and looked at the ground next to the house.

Her mother had landed half in and half out of the flowerbed that ran along the house.  One of her legs was bent in a completely unnatural manner, and Jessica saw something sharp poking out of her skin in a place where nothing should be.  But the thing, the thing that had been her mother, was still moving.  As she peered down, she saw the hands scrabbling and scraping across the grass, moving beneath the body and pushing up.  The head was turning, looking up at her.  The blood on Sharon’s face glistened in the moonlight horrifically.

“Mom?” Jessica heard from behind her, and she abruptly spun.  Dropping the bat, she rushed to the hallway door, darting outside and yanking it closed behind her as Candice emerged from the master bedroom.  “Mom, what’s wrong?”

Jessica stared at her daughter, completely at a loss for words.  Candice looked up at her sleepily, her hair tousled and falling over one side of her face.  “I heard shouting.” Candice said after a moment.

Something deep within her applied charged paddles to her insides, jump-starting her thoughts and helping her generate an awareness that could lead her beyond the paralysis.  Jessica shook herself violently.  She drew a breath, exhaled, and knelt down.  Reaching out, she grasped Candice by the shoulders and pulled her close, hugging her tightly.

“Sweetie, you know I love you, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice wobbling a little as she tried to focus herself on something other than the horror, the terror, and the agonizing pain that had a stranglehold on her.

Candice seemed confused, but her arms went around her mother.  “I love you too mom.”

“Candy Bear, I love you so, so, so much.” Jessica whispered, forcing herself to relax her hold on the girl after a moment when she felt how tightly she was squeezing.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Candice asked, and her voice was afraid.

Jessica pushed her daughter back and held her by the shoulders, looking right into her eyes.  They were wide, the whites seeming enormous in the dim hallway.  “Candice, I need you to listen to me, and do everything I say.  No questions.  Can you do that for me?”

“Mom–”

“No questions.” Jessica said sharply, more sharply than she’d intended.  Candice flinched, and Jessica softened her tone.  “No questions.” she repeated more gently.  “Get dressed, as fast as you can.  Jeans and a shirt.  As fast as you can.  Then I want you to put clothes into your Dora backpack, as many clothes as you can fit.  Jeans and shirts, as many as will fit.  As fast as you can.”

“Okay.” Candice said, her voice weak and threadbare.  “But–”

Jessica shook her head quickly.  “No questions.  Get dressed and pack clothes in your backpack.  And, please sweetie, please, please, please.  No matter what, not for any reason, do not open grandma and grandpa’s door.”

“What’s wrong?” Candice whispered.

Jessica stood and turned her daughter, pushing her into the bedroom.  “Get dressed, get the backpack.  Stay in your room, or come into mine.  As fast as you can.”

Jessica watched as Candice glanced back at her as she walked over to her dresser, opening one of the drawers.  Jessica flashed a smile she didn’t feel at all, and turned to her bedroom.  Leaving the door open so she could see if Candice came out, Jessica wrenched open drawers on her own dresser.  She flung a stack of jeans out on the bed, followed by the first stack of shirts and blouses she found.  She whipped her nightgown off over her head so fast she heard a part of it ripping, completely ignored as she flung the thin garment aside and grabbed for jeans.

She slid into them, buttoned and zipped up, then tugged a shirt on.  Lunging for the closet, she grabbed the duffle bag Brett used to take with him to the gym.  Dragging it down, she knocked what seemed like half the shelf’s contents off in her haste, but she ignored all the thumps and clatters behind her as she spun back to the bed with the duffel in hand.  It was empty and clean, having been washed and sitting on the top shelf waiting for its owner.

Jessica flung it on the bed now and thrust clothes inside.  She grabbed a pair of sneakers from the closet and put them in the bag, jammed her bare feet into a pair of loafers, then ran back around the bed to her dresser.  There was room in the bag for a little more, and she decided to grab socks and underwear.  Two belts, at the last moment, just because she saw them coiled neatly in the drawer when she went for socks.  She jammed everything into the duffel without the slightest concern other than that the items were inside.

Zipping the bag closed so quickly her fingers smarted from the tight grip she used on the metal tab, she grabbed the twin handles of the bag and went back into the hall.  Candice was sitting on the floor in front of her dresser, the Dora backpack she’d stopped using last year lying next to her.  She was just starting to put her shoes on, but looked up when Jessica appeared in the doorway.

“You have clothes in your bag?” Jessica asked.

“Yes.” Candice said, looking confused and scared.

Jessica stepped into the room and opened her daughter’s underwear drawer, then picked up the backpack.  She opened the secondary compartment and thrust underwear and socks in, then zipped it closed and motioned for Candice to get up.  “Come on sweetie, you can put your shoes on in the car.  Here, put this on now.”

Candice got up uncertainly, still holding one sock in her hand.  Jessica turned her daughter quickly and helped her slide her hands through the backpack’s straps.  They were a little tight, but Jessica ignored that and picked up the sneakers Candice hadn’t put on yet.  Grabbing the girl’s hand, she pulled her out into the hallway and down the stairs.  She purposefully went through the front room, through the dining room, and into the kitchen so they didn’t have to go through the living room.

Jessica clamped her arm down on the sneakers as she jammed them under her arm to free one of her hands, the other still gripping Candice’s tightly.  She grabbed her purse from the hook next to the door, slung it over her shoulder one handed, then used the same hand to unlock the door and throw it open.  Almost dragging Candice through the door, she dug her keys out of the purse and got the car unlocked.

“Get in sweetie.” Jessica said, pulling Candice into the car by the arm.  Her daughter stumbled up on the driver’s seat, then climbed across to the passenger side.

“Here.” Jessica said, reaching in and dropping the sneakers in her lap, then throwing the duffle and her purse into the back seat.  She slid in behind the wheel, closed her door quickly, then hit the button that locked all the doors.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Candice asked as she struggled to get her arms out of the too tight straps of the old backpack.

“We have to leave sweetie.” Jessica said, fumbling as she tried to jam the key into the ignition.

“Why?”

The key slid in.  Jessica twisted it immediately to start the engine, then started to reach over to the passenger visor to the garage door remote.  She paused, her finger not quite touching the button, as a thought occurred to her.  She closed her eyes and listened to the engine idling contentedly for a moment, trying to decide.  She felt torn, like there was no right answer.  No, that wasn’t quite true.  Not quite.

She might not know exactly what she should be doing, or what was coming next, but she did know any path that led to safety, that had more on the side of protection and surety, was the path she should follow.  It didn’t matter where such a path went, just as long as it stayed safe.  If that path twisted toward danger, then that was when to choose another.  But until that fork in the road . . .  she felt Candice’s presence next to her like a magnet, and made her decision.

“Candy Bear, mommy forgot something in the house.” Jessica said, turning the car off and jamming the keys into her pocket.  “I’ll be right back.  While I’m gone, you stay in the car.”  She twisted to look at her daughter, making sure she caught Candice’s eyes with hers.  “Stay in the car.  Don’t get out of the car, you hear me?”

“Yes.” Candice said softly, nodding with a wide eyed gaze that made her look younger than she was.

Jessica nodded back, forced a smile that she hoped was more reassuring than it felt as her cheeks stretched it forth, then opened her door.  She closed it and hit the button on the remote to lock the car again, then went back inside the house.

The familiar surroundings already seemed alien and threatening.  She lingered at the door to scan around, looking and listening, then crossed the kitchen to the open doorway dividing kitchen from living room and paused again.  It seemed clear, though she’d never noticed just how many shadows cloaked the room’s nooks and crevices; each one grinning malevolently at her with a promise of some hidden horror.

“Get a grip.”
Jessica whispered to herself. 
“You’re the mom.”
she said softly, her voice choking off in a strangled sob that sounded like a wounded animal.  She crossed the living room, made the stairs, and went up them as lightly and quickly as she could.  At the door, she paused to gather her courage, then delayed another couple of seconds by glancing up and down the hallway as if checking for threats.

Then, out of excuses, she opened the door and stepped inside the spare bedroom.  Her father’s body was on the bed where he’d died, drawing her attention automatically.  She felt her eyes moistening despite her resolve, and shook herself violently as if trying to dislodge some insect that was crawling across her skin.  Tearing her eyes away from the blood and gore, she cast her gaze around quickly.

The bedside table held William’s watch, but nothing else except the lamp and alarm clock and vase of fake flowers that always lived there.  She tugged open the drawer on the table, but it was empty aside from the little potpourri sachet she changed every few months so the room didn’t get overwhelmed with that empty smell that always seemed to thicken up in a vacant area.

“Come on.” Jessica muttered, looking around again.  Floor next to the table and bed, nothing but blood stained carpet and the bat.  The bat!  Jessica leaned down and took it in hand, then lingered long enough to peer under the bed.  Just a clean expanse of carpet over to the other side, where the bloodstains picked back up.  She stood and looked around a third time, then jammed the bat under one arm and quickly went through the dresser drawers.  Clothes, which she rummaged through quickly without success.

“Damnit Dad!” Jessica cursed as the last drawer opened to reveal nothing, her mother having obviously chosen to not use the bottom most one to spare the effort of needing to bend that far over.  “You promised.” she muttered, turning and scanning around the room again.  It was the spare bedroom, and only had the barest amount of furniture.  The clutter and crowding that almost inevitably defined a room with a regular occupant was absent, just the bed, two tables, the one dresser, and the closet.