THEM (Book 0): Invasion (19 page)

Read THEM (Book 0): Invasion Online

Authors: M.D. Massey

Tags: #Post-Apocalyptic | Zombies | Vampires

BOOK: THEM (Book 0): Invasion
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“Oh,
mijo
‌—‌I knew you’d find us.” She stood up and met me at the center of the small room, and I gave her a big hug.

I tried not to cry. “I found the note you left me, Mama. But I had to kill Mr. Keller from across the street.” I made the admission like a child who was admitting to breaking a window. All the emotion I’d been holding in over the past week came flooding back in a rush, and tears began to fall from my eyes.

She leaned back and wiped my cheeks with her thumbs. “I’m sure you did him a favor,
mijo
. Now he can be at peace.” She glanced over at the bed. “I only wish I could say the same for your father, though.”

I sucked it up and wiped my eyes dry. “What’s wrong with him? The guys who brought me in here said he got bit by one of those creatures.”

She nodded sagely. “They may look rough, but they’re good boys. They’ve been looking after us. Sometimes he recognizes me, other times he doesn’t. He’s very ill, Aidan.”

At that I heard what could only be described as a growl coming from the bed. There was the clink of metal on metal, and as my father stirred the covers fell away to reveal that he’d been handcuffed to the bed. These were not the strong and gentle hands that’d held me when I had nightmares, that had bandaged my cuts and bruises, that had greeted me with a handshake and a hug when I’d returned from Afghanistan. Aghast, I walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back, and what I saw then will haunt me for the rest of my days.

It was my dad, that much was for certain, but his body was in the process of transforming into something… other. His fingers were elongating slightly, and the nails were lengthening. His skin was pale and yellowed, and his hair was beginning to fall out in strands and clumps. As I leaned over him to get a better look, his eyes popped open, and I noticed immediately that they were no longer human. He growled at me briefly, and then he blinked. I was too stunned to react, so I just stood there, looking at him in awe and grief.

His eyelids fluttered, and I saw some recognition creep into his eyes. “Aidan‌—‌Aidan, is that you?”

I grabbed his hand, forcing myself not to recoil at the rough, cold, clammy feel of his skin. “Yeah, Dad, it’s me. I finally found you and Mom.”

He smiled, and I could see that his gums were bleeding. He was missing a few teeth, and there were small, sharp, white points poking out from his bloody gums where those teeth had once been. “That’s good, son, I’m proud of you.” His voice was raspy and soft, but I could hear his familiar baritone as he squeezed my hand and pulled me closer.

“Son, you know what you have to do. Your mother‌—‌she doesn’t have the courage to do it. She was never a soldier, never had to make the choices we’ve had to make.” Although his eyes were clear, his expression was frantic. “I saw that thing that did this to me, and I know what I’m going to become. You have to kill me, before I end up like that. Promise me, son‌—‌promise me you’ll do it before I hurt someone.”

I wept, and tears streamed off my face to land on his as I replied. “I promise, Dad. I won’t let you down.”

He relaxed visibly at those words, and he patted my hand before he released it. “That’s good, son. You’ve made me proud, every single day of your life. You should know that. Your grandfather always said that you were the best of us. Now, let me spend some time alone with your mother, while I’m able.”

“I love you, Pops.” I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“I know, son.”

As I turned away, my mom took my place at his side. She cried too. I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be right outside, Mom. Just come get me when you’re ready.” She nodded and sat astride the bed next to my father, and I stopped to take one last look at them as a couple before I walked out the door.

I wiped my eyes, noting that Crank and Possum looked away in order to give me the dignity that the moment deserved. After I’d composed myself, Crank walked up and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. He looked me in the eye and smiled.

“Your dad, he’s a great man. I wish I would have had a dad like that. I owe him a debt I’ll never be able to repay. Never.”

I nodded. “The greatest man I’ll ever know.”

Possum spoke up as Crank stepped back to give me some breathing room. “Hey Aidan, are you hungry? We can get you some grub‌—‌”

BANG!
The shot rang out from inside the room, and we all reacted at once, rushing into the room in single file, almost as if we were stacked up to do a room entry. As we burst in, I saw the revolver dangling from my mother’s hand, and the sharp tang of burning gunpowder hit my nose. My father had a perfect small hole in the middle of his forehead, and a peaceful look on his face. His eyes were closed, and if I didn’t know better I might have thought he slept.

I sprang forward and gently took the gun from my mother, then I held her tight. “Mama, why didn’t you let me take care of him? I promised him I would.”

“I know, son. But there’s no way I was going to let you live the rest of your life with that on your conscience. He was my constant companion for thirty-five years, and I was his. It was my responsibility to see to his last wishes, not yours. Now it’s my burden to bear.”

I rocked slowly back and forth as I held her close. Soon, she pushed me away, gently, and looked up at me with resignation in her eyes. “I’d like to take your father home now, Aidan.”

I nodded. Crank spoke from somewhere near the door. “Aidan, Mrs. Sullivan‌—‌me and the boys will help you take care of his body. You won’t need to do a thing.”

My mother turned and patted him on the arm. “Thank you, Darnell.” Apparently, my mom had already been playing mother to these guys. Such a charmer, she was. I bet no one else called Crank by his real name, except maybe his own mother.

We stood by as Crank, Possum, and a few of his guys carefully wrapped the body up and prepared it for transporting back to the ranch. Then, I went back to the house where I had holed up, retrieved the truck, and we loaded Dad up and headed back to the ranch.

We got back to the ranch without incident. I knew what to look for and what to avoid now, and I was able to steer us clear of much of the trouble I’d run into on my way to Austin days before. I felt guilty about not stopping to check in on Rayden, Elena, and Bibi, but I wanted to get back to the ranch and get my mom settled in as soon as possible. I told myself I’d check on them just as soon as I got Dad buried and Mom was okay.

It was nice and sunny when we got back, and I wasted no time in getting Dad buried on the land he loved so much. We buried him out behind the cabin; Mom said he had always liked the trees back there. I said a prayer over his grave, and Mom read some Scripture. Afterward, we stood there in silence for a good long time, and then Mom grabbed my hand and led me back inside the house.

I offered to make her something to eat, but she declined. “No, I’m tired, son. I think I’m going to go lay down for a while.”

“Alright, Mom. I’ll come in and check on you before I go to bed.” I kissed her on the forehead, and she returned the favor with a peck on my cheek.

“Your father was very proud of you Aidan‌—‌you were his pride and joy. Never forget that.”

“I won’t, Mama. Now, go get some rest.” She smiled and retired to the bedroom, and as I watched her go my heart sank at what she had had to do for my dad. I took some small satisfaction in the fact that he would be at peace now, but not much.

Later that evening I went in to check on her, but she had fallen fast asleep so I let her rest. I drifted off that night to the sound of cicadas and static from the weather radio. My last thoughts before falling asleep were not of revenge necessarily, but concern about all the people out there who were left, the people who couldn’t defend themselves against these new threats.

I slept fitfully that night, my dreams filled with nightmares of my dad coming to drain the blood from my mother. In my dreams, I could only look on, frozen in terror and grief as I watched my mother perish at my father’s hands. Her eyes stared at me imploringly as he drank, but no sound arose from her lips, save small infrequent gurgles as I watched her drowning in her own blood, time and time again.

EPILOGUE

MY MOTHER DIED that night in her sleep; I suppose that the strain of having to take my father’s life had just been too much for her. I buried her out back next to my dad, and wasted little time afterward preparing for what I knew I had to do. I drove all day to get back to Crank and his people in Jonestown. There’d been another attack the night before in my absence, and Possum had been killed defending a mother and her kids.

Crank and I tracked down the thing that had killed Dad and Possum, which ironically led us only a few houses down from the house where I’d holed up. We set the house on fire, and when the thing came screaming out of an upstairs window I put two rounds in its head, and Crank blew off its leg with a sawed off 12 gauge. I walked up on it as it rolled around on the ground‌—‌a charred, smoldering, bloody heap‌—‌and placed several more rounds in its skull until it stopped moving.

I carved a Roman numeral two on its chest and tied it up with barbed wire near their road block, spit Vlad the Impaler style on a pole that once held a speed limit sign. When he saw what I’d done, Crank whistled in shock and horror at my work.

I responded without taking my eyes from the vamp. “Don’t worry, I’m not going crazy‌—‌least not any more so than I already am. This is just a warning, in case any more of those things come around your place. Hopefully it’ll make ‘em think twice about settling in these parts.”

He nodded once and walked off. I guess psy ops just wasn’t his thing.

The next day I headed back to Fredericksburg and found Bibi, Elena, and Rayden still at the same little cottage I’d left them at days before. Bibi filled me in on what had happened at the high school, and as it turned out folks hadn’t taken too kindly to Captain Hillis selling them out. A few of his men stayed loyal, but the rest turned on him and summarily executed him and all the soldiers and cops who were in on it.

Only a few of the cops had known what was going on. Currently they were in the process of setting up a provisional government and making sure that nothing like that could happen again. Bibi said she was fine right where she was, but I wasn’t so sure. I helped her and the kids get settled into a more defensible home, one with more space as well, and spent several days running back and forth from the local hardware store with supplies to make it zombie-proof.

It still wouldn’t keep out one of those nosferatu-looking things, but at least they’d be safe if some shamblers got through the fence. Rayden, true to form, had scavenged a supply of weapons and ammo from local homes and stores, and I spent a considerable amount of time showing him how to maintain and operate every single one. We also spent time on marksmanship, and by the time I left them I was certain he was prepared to defend Bibi and Elena. He would turn out to be a good man, someday. Heck, he was already most of the way there.

I eventually tracked down Dan, Sarah, and their kids at her parents’ place near Rock Springs. They were doing fine, and Buttercup eventually had a litter of half-Catahoula, half-Bulldog pups. They offered me pick of the litter, but I declined. I was too busy with work to raise a pup, but I told them I might come back for one when they got a little older.

These days I spend most of my time helping folks, doing what I do best. Not everybody is cut out to handle these creatures, so I spend my time searching for settlements and communities that have sprouted up out here, and taking care of the creatures they can’t take care of themselves. It doesn’t pay much, and mostly people pay me in barter if at all, but I don’t do it for that.

Nope. I do it for the chance to scratch one more number on the chest of one of those things, and to string up one more corpse to warn these hell-swine that we Texans don’t take shit lying down. So far, I’m up to a dozen since the one I killed in Jonestown. Thirteen total; maybe there’s some symbolism there, if you believe in that crap.

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