The Lingering Outbreak At Hope Cove Page 10

  “Pretty much the same as you,” the boy answered as he looked at his feet.

  “And what if that meant killing your pa and your friends.”

  Callum looked at the old man, and then returned his gaze to his feet. “If my pa or the others wake as one of those things, then they are already as good as dead. My pa would want me to end it for him, and that is what I’d do.”

  Jo’s dark and extremely wrinkled hand squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “I think you have more of a measure of this thing than the doc does. I think he sees those things as an opportunity.”

  “Really, how so?”

  “Well, I think he wants his name in the history books. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a right nice fella, and he’s doing right by the folks of this here town, but he has that gleam in his eye.”

  “What gleam?”

  Jo laughed. “The gleam of being on the verge of something bigger. The gleam of a man with ambition.”

  Callum nodded and then looked to the distance. After a moment or two, he stood and held a hand to his brow.

  “Do you see something?” Jo asked as he forced his old body back to its feet.

  “There’s a dust cloud, the kind you get from a big herd of cattle, only I don’t think it’s cattle heading this way.”

  “Lingerers?”

  “Maybe, but they’re still too far away to see. If it’s the Lingering, then it’s more than we’ve ever seen before.”

  Jo looked in the direction of Callum’s gaze. “Boston be in that direction.”

  “I know,” Callum replied worriedly. “I know. I think it’s time for you, me and the doc to head out of town for a while. Do you think the folks downstairs will be all right? I mean, we’ll have to leave them here. ”

  “I think they will be just fine. After all, those things will not see them as fresh food; they will just see them as their own. Come on, Boy; give me a hand to get below.”

  Dr. Channing looked at Jo with disbelief. “We can’t just abandon these people!”

  “We can, and we will,” Jo said as he grabbed the doctor’s arm and all but dragged him to the door. “Do you see that?” He asked as he pointed towards the dust cloud, which now seemed only a mile or so away. “Whatever is causing that unholy sight is moving mighty fast. Too fast for anything other than the undead. We have to leave; otherwise we’re going to be the first things on their menu.”

  Channing nodded reluctantly. “Where’s Callum?”

  “He’s bringing the horses ‘round. He’ll be here at any moment.”

  ***

  Callum hurriedly saddled two horses. He could ride bareback, but he doubted either Jo or the doctor could. Hector fussed around at the boy’s feet, and twice he nearly tripped him. Suddenly, Hector stopped his fussing. Instead, he turned towards the barn’s open door, and started to growl.

  Callum froze, and then turned slowly towards the door. Two Lingerers stood like statues at the opening. They stared at him with a kind of witless curiosity, and he instantly knew who they were.

  It was the Broderick twins, and they represented two thirds of the missing Lingerers from town. They stared at him for a few moments, and then their dull gaze turned to the dog.

  Callum’s hand went to his injured cheek. The doctor had done a good job of stitching his wound, and he felt sure the two creatures could not smell even the slightest trace of blood on him. But what were they doing back in town? Was it possible that they feared the things approaching? Callum decided whatever had caused their return meant nothing to him. What mattered was getting away.

  Callum started saddling the horses again, but this time he did it facing the door. One of the twins started to move farther into the stable, but he backed off again when Hector let out a deep, resonating bark.

  Soon, all three horses were ready, and the boy led them towards the docile creatures stood by the door. As he drew closer to them, the twins simply shuffled to one side and allowed him to lead the horses unhindered from the barn. Callum suddenly felt sorry for the twins. These were not like the flesh eating monsters he had faced at the mill. These creatures seemed more like frightened children than they did bloodthirsty killers.

  As he exited the barn, he looked back in their direction and took one last look at the twins. Hector barked again, but the boy’s gaze remained fixed on the undead by the barn. Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe they should try to…

  Callum slammed to the ground, and all the air instantly fled his lungs. He blinked madly as stars filled his vision, and he fought to regain his breath. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear sounds of a struggle.

  Hector growled, snarled and yelped crazily. The boy then realized that his loyal dog seemed entangled in a fight of some kind. Callum could feel hands pulling at his leg, but the clawing hands were slipping away. With an effort, he took several deep breaths, which helped to clear his semi dazed mind.

  He looked down the length of his prostrate body, and saw Hector dragging a thrashing creature off him. It was then that everything came back into focus. A Lingerer—possibly an advanced guard from the approaching swarm—had attacked him, and now he lay in the dirt with the thing grabbing for his leg. His mind kicked into gear, and his hand went to the tomahawk that had once been his father’s.

  Hector had managed to pull the creature almost entirely off his master, and now the monster turned its vicious intent to the faithful canine. The Lingerer kicked out savagely and connected with the dog’s head. Hector’s grip on the ghoul lessened, and the creature sprung onto the dog’s back. With a howl of pain, Hector crumpled under the creature’s terrible onslaught.

  The abomination tore at the dog with both its hands and teeth. Its jaws latched around the dog’s throat, and with a wild shake of its head, it ripped the poor animal’s trachea free of its neck. Hector went into a seizure as enormous gouts of dark arterial blood pumped from the vulnerate of his neck.

  “NO!” Callum screamed as he leaped to his dog’s aid.

  Callum tore into the creature with a ferocity that would have quailed the heart of the bravest of men. Again, and again, he brought his weapon down on the creature’s skull. The whole attack from start to finish had only lasted a few seconds, but to the boy it felt like an eternity.

  Hector was dead, and Callum’s heart felt like it would break. Somewhere in the boy’s mind, something cracked. He had lost too much, and as a result, he could take no more. His mind was like a fragile pane of glass, on which a spider’s web of cracks had appeared.

  From behind him, a low growling began to resonate. He turned in time to see the twins eyes change from yellow, to black. At first, he thought the smell of Hector’s blood must have triggered the change, but then he felt something warm trickling down his leg. He glimpsed down and saw long scratches beneath his torn trousers. Clearly, his fresh wounds were the result of the creature’s sharp nails.

  The boy knew what would happen next. The twins would attack and attempt to eat him alive! The spider’s web of cracks surrounding his fragile sanity gave, and what was left of Callum’s mind splintered into a thousand shards of memories and thoughts.

  Without any sense of danger or self-preservation, for Callum’s mind no longer worked in terms of logic or sense, he launched himself at the twins. In a frenzy of tears and anger, he hacked and chopped at the two monsters. He screamed and bellowed as he pulverized their skulls. The creatures withered under his terrible onslaught, and dropped to the dirt. They were dead, but he did not stop. With great guttural bellows of grief, he stamped and kicked at their heads. Soon, their skulls had turned into nothing more than mashed piles of meat and bone.

  “Callum!”

  The boy dropped the tomahawk, and turned slowly. Jo gasped with horror, not because of the dead creatures, but because of what he saw in the boy’s face. Callum’s eyes seemed deader than those of the creatures. Jo was eighty years old, and he had seen some terrible things in his time, but nothing came close to what he now saw in the boy’s vacant gaze.


  The old man looked down at the tattered remains of the boy’s dog, and understood everything. He began to weep. So much death. So much pain. It just did not make any goddamn sense.

  Jo cuffed at his eyes and then straightened. “Come on, Boy, time to get you out of here,” he said as he took Callum gently by the shoulders.

  Dr. Channing came running around the corner, but on beholding the carnage, he skidded to a stop. “Dear God,” he whispered as he first looked at the mutilated creatures, and then at the boy. “Did he do this?”

  “I’m guessing he snapped after his dog met its end. Come on, just grab the horse,” Jo said as he positioned the boy beside the closest mount. “I’ll take the boy with me.”

  Channing held the horse as Jo lifted the boy into the saddle. His ancient muscles strained under the boys weight, but he never faltered.

  Channing mounted his own horse, and they moved back towards Main Street. As they rounded the corner, a thunderous sound filled their ears. Dr. Channing turned towards the noise, and let out a disbelieving gasp.

  “Dear God, how did they get here so quick,” the doctor said as he tried to comprehend what he saw.

  Jo looked past the doctor and saw hundreds, no thousands, of ravenous Lingerers heading their way. On seeing the three, the swarm halted and all sound ceased in a second. For close to ten seconds the swarm stood quietly staring at the three. In turn, Channing and Jo stared back. As for Callum, he simply stared past the creatures, completely unconcerned by their presence.

  Mesmerized, the Lingering seemed to be considering their next move, but Jo did not wait to see what that move would be.

  “For your father’s sake, ride!” he bellowed as he kicked at his horses side.

  His outburst seemed to break the spell that had fallen over the creatures, and as one, they threw themselves into pursuit. Both the doctor and Jo drove their horses as hard as they could, but they seemed to be making no ground on the Lingerers.

  The doctor drove his spurs into his horse, which seemed to coax an ounce more strength from his mare. He started to pull away from Jo, thus opening the gap between him and his pursuers. The added weight Jo’s steed carried meant Jo could not match the doctor’s speed. Soon the creatures would have him.

  Dr. Channing led by a good twenty yards, but now he veered to the right. Jo’s brow furrowed. What the hell was he doing? Suddenly, the doctor drove his horse back towards Jo, and the old man realized what he was going to do.

  The doctor flew past him and shouted over his shoulder. “Take care of the boy.”

  Jo pushed his horse on, but he watched the doctor over his shoulder as he went.

  The swarm suddenly changed direction, and started pursuing the closer target … the doctor!

  Channing drove his horse along a swerving course, but he could not stay clear of the creatures. His heroic sacrifice lasted no more than thirty seconds, but it bought Jo the precious head start he needed.

  ***

  For more than two hours, Jo pushed his horse onward. Finally, the exhausted animal collapsed beneath them, and threw its riders to the dirt. Jo quickly got to his feet and rushed back to the horse, but it was already dead. He looked around, but saw no signs of either people, or Lingerers. His eyes moved to the boy, who now simply lie in the dirt staring at the clouds above.

  The old man followed the boys gaze, and then offered a prayer to the sky. He looked back towards town, and knew he would never see Warrington again. Finally, with a loud creak of old and weary bones, he stretched his body to its full extent. Then, he moved to the boy, picked him up, and started walking.

  There were many miles between him and his kin, but he swore to himself that he would make it. He decided he would not try to fight with the creatures; instead, he would hide at their approach. As a black man living in a country filled with slave hunters, he could make himself all but invisible. He only hoped he could apply his skills to the flesh-eating horde behind him.

  He looked down into Callum’s vacant eyes and he realized that more than anything, the boy needed him. It had been a long time since anyone had needed him, and the feeling filled him with strength. They would make it; any less was out of the question.

  Jo repositioned the boy in his arms, and then slowly, but methodically, placed one foot in front of the other.

  Chapter 19

  Jo knocked on the door, and then looked back at Callum. The boy sat slumped in the cart with a rivulet of drawl trickling from the corner of his mouth. In the six months the two had spent on the road, the old man had grown to love the boy as his own. At times, things had been hard, but the kindness of others had also surprised him.

  Before the calamity of the Lingering, a black man traveling with a catatonic white boy would have caused more than just a few looks. It would have resulted in more than just a few questions; it would have resulted in beatings. However, since the outbreak people seemed more accepting. Maybe this was because there were not many people left, and this meant the few had to stick together.

  He looked down the street, and although it was all but empty, at least it was free of the undead. The government was finally taking back the cities, and for the most part, the Lingering were under control.

  It had not taken long for people to realize that a vast number of the undead were harmless. It was true that they would change if they caught the scent of fresh blood, but once that valuable piece of information came to light, then their handling became much easier.

  Jo looked back at the boy, and Callum returned his gaze with a small smile. Jo smiled back and thought about how much the boy had improved. With luck, he would one day be his old self again.

  The old man heard the door behind him open, and he turned in its direction. An overwhelming sense of relief and happiness washed over him as he looked into the face of his son, Seth.

  For several long moments, neither man moved or said a word, but then in a flood of tears they embraced. Jo clenched his son tight and kissed his cheek.

  “I never thought I’d see you again,” he sobbed.

  His son suddenly held him out at arm’s length, and then pulled him close again. “Pa, I can’t believe you made it out of the dead zone.” Seth turned and shouted back into the house. “Eliza, dearest, it’s my father … he’s alive!”

  A lovely ebony skin woman ran up the hall behind Seth, but Jo’s eyes fixed on the man behind her.

  “Josiah … is that you?”

  “He was visiting at the time the outbreak reached the city,” Seth said as he followed his father’s gaze. “This part of the city house’s the staff from Capitol Hill, so as soon as things got bad, the army was called in to protect this area. The President didn’t want the government to stop functioning, so by the grace of God, this area of the city went almost untouched by those monsters. We’ve been held up here ever since.”

  Now old Jo had three pairs of loving arms around him, and each of those involved in the embrace wept openly and unashamedly. Another pair of hands, much smaller and whiter than the others, joined the embrace. The boy’s touch reminded Jo of Callum’s presence, and he pulled free of his families hug.

  “Everybody, this is a friend of mine, Callum,” the old man said as he guided the boy forward and to the midst of the reunion.

  “Pleased to meet you, Callum,” Seth said as he offered out his hand. “This is my wife Eliza, and my brother, Josiah.”

  The boy stared blankly at the group, and Seth’s bewildered gaze turned to his father.

  “He’s a might muddled,” Jo said as he pulled the boy closer. “Why don’t we go inside and I’ll tell you what I can. I won’t tell you everything … I simply don’t have the strength for that. I don’t think I could take reliving all we’ve been through in the past months, but I’ll tell you what doesn’t hurt too much to tell.”

  ***

  “And there you have it,” Jo said as he placed his expressive hands in his lap.

  “So the boy is an orphan?” Josiah asked.

 
Jo looked towards Callum. The boy sat cross-legged on the floor, and he held Eliza’s small dog in his lap.

  “I’m not sure. His ma and sister were in Boston, and we all know what happened there. The swarms that came out of that city killed more folks than the swarms from any of the other cities combined. I think it’ll be years before anyone sets foot in Boston again.

  “We had to leave his pa back in Warrington. Last we saw of him, he was still under the grip of the Lingering. Maybe he slumbered ‘till those things moved through, or maybe he just woke as one of them. Perhaps, in time, we will find out what happened to him. But …” The old man shook his head woefully. “I think we’ve seen the last of them all.”

  “Wh-what’s its na-name?”

  Jo leaped to his feet and rushed to Callum’s side. He knelt, and his arthritic knees let out an ominous creak.

  Jo looked back at his sons, and said, “He hasn’t said a word since we left Warrington, that was six months ago.”

  Eliza moved to the boy and knelt. She stroked his matted hair, and whispered, “Her name is Dumpling.”

  The boy’s face turned to her, and tears filled his eyes. “I ha-had a dog once. His na-name wa-was Hector.”

  Jo embraced the boy and kissed his grimy head. Through tears, and with a voice thick with joyous emotion, he said, “Yes you did, and he was a good dog.”

  “J-Jo.”

  “Yes, Son.”

  “Are we ho-home?”

  “Yes, we’re home.”

  Epilogue

  Location: Pontevedra Spain

  Date: July 25, 1841

  Time: 7: 45 am

  The boy strolled down the beach absently kicking at the sand. He looked up and saw what looked like a lifeboat bobbing in the waves. He looked back towards his father, and saw him talking with one of the local fisherman. He ran back to him and pointed towards the boat floundering in the surf. Little did he know that this was one of the boats taken by the mutinous crew of the ill-fated ship, The Capable.