Portlandtown: A Tale of the Oregon Wyldes (37 page)

Joseph pressed his face to Kate’s. A tear rolled from her cheek to his, momentarily warming Joseph’s skin before disappearing among the raindrops.

“We’ll be all right.”

Kate let go of the breath she’d been holding. “Will we?”

Joseph reached out with his senses. The chaos of the hotel had spilled out into the plaza, and though masked by the rain, it was all too clear to Joseph. Locals ran in all directions, and there were at least twenty of the creatures in the immediate vicinity. It was difficult to track the exact number because they made the same noises, offering little to distinguish one from another. They moved in the same lurching manner, made the same disturbing guttural growls, and attacked with the same relentless horror. Twenty at least, most likely more.

“We’ve got the stage to ourselves,” Joseph said. “But I don’t know for how long.”

“Did you see Mr. Edmonds?” Maddie asked. “He helped us.”

Joseph shook his head. There had been a group of zombies on the platform when he and Kate had arrived, but all had tumbled over the edge. If the weatherman had been among them, Joseph hoped he’d escaped … or drowned quickly.

“Maybe he got away,” Maddie said hopefully.

“If so, he had the right idea,” Kate said. “We can’t stay here.”

Joseph didn’t argue. “Most of them are still around the hotel. We need to get out of the plaza and head toward higher ground.”

“They’re slower in the water,” Kick said with some effort.

“So are we,” Kate said. “And I don’t think you’re in any shape to swim.”

“Water’s rising too fast,” Joseph added. “Most of the sidewalks will be swamped soon, so if we don’t go now we’ll all be swimming.”

Right on cue, the platform shifted and abruptly sank six inches, dropping it below the flood line. Water rushed over the stage, forcing the family to their feet. Kick tried to stand but immediately wished he hadn’t. He swayed forward and then back, teetering on the edge of the platform before losing his balance altogether.

“Kick!”

Maddie reached out to her brother, just missing his outstretched fingers as he fell into the water.

Kick had just enough time to register that he was once again under the cold darkness before his father brought him back to the surface. He spit out the water halfway down his throat and fought to stay conscious.

“I got you, son.”

Kick focused on his father’s face. In the low light of the plaza it was all he could see clearly, but it was enough to keep him in the moment.

“I’m okay,” he said between coughs and tightened his grip around his father’s arm.

Joseph turned to Kate and Maddie.

“Let’s go. Everyone in the water.”

Kate bundled up the lower portion of her dress and stepped off the platform. She turned back to help Maddie, who hopped in without prompting.

“Stay close,” Joseph said and turned toward the opposite side of the street.

It was only thirty feet to the boardwalk, but with the water at chest height even Joseph found the crossing difficult.

The family pushed through the floodwaters and would have reached the boardwalk without incident had a section of the nearest wooden crossing not broken free.

“Kate, take Kick!”

Joseph passed off his son and then spun in time to meet the flotsam with outstretched hands. It was heavy, but he held his ground, slowly turning the large chunk of scaffolding away from his family. With his attention stretched thin, Joseph missed the zombie clinging to the opposite side of the wreckage.

“Dad, look out!”

Joseph sensed the creature a moment before its fingers closed around his wrist. It was strong. Joseph jerked back his hand, pulling the determined zombie partially over the broken bridge, which was now slowly dragging him away from his family. A second hand thrust forward, striking Joseph in the face and then latching on to his collar. Joseph gave up trying to slow the wreckage and instead braced his feet against the structure and pushed. His body arched upward, but the creature wouldn’t let go.

The scaffold jolted to a stop as it struck a large chunk of sidewalk jutting out into the flooded street. The zombie’s grip slacked momentarily, giving Joseph an opening. He grabbed the creature’s right hand and broke three of the fingers at the knuckles. The zombie reacted by pulling Joseph even closer with the opposite hand, its mouth ratcheting open and closed as it did.

For a moment, the light from a lantern hanging on a nearby telegraph pole illuminated the creature’s face. This was not one of the pale, sickly beings that had attacked the hall but rather someone Joseph recognized. It was a man from the party, one who’d been attacked in front of Joseph. There were numerous gashes in his neck and face and what were surely teeth marks in his cheek. The front of the man’s shirt was soaked in blood and rainwater. He had been murdered by the creatures and now he was one of them. It was madness.

Joseph struggled to break free but found no leverage. Sensing victory, the zombie gathered itself and was abruptly shot in the forehead. The creature’s face contorted, its body slackened, and then it fell forward onto the broken bridge. The zombie flinched once and then was silent.

Joseph pushed away from the wreckage and found the marshal standing above him, holding the Hanged Man’s red-handled pistol.

“Damn lucky there’s still one light workin’ in this town,” the marshal said, gesturing to the lantern. “Not sure I make that shot in the dark, not without clippin’ your ear.”

Joseph pulled himself onto the boardwalk just as Kate and the twins caught up. He took his son from Kate and turned to the marshal.

“You take that shot every time, Marshal. Light or no light.”

The marshal nodded.

Kick coughed and dropped his head onto his father’s shoulder. “Can we go home now?”

His son was heavier out of the water, but Joseph barely noticed. Nor did he feel the exhaustion that would likely overwhelm him should he stand still for too long. He sensed only the fear of his family and an absolute need to protect them, regardless of the cost. He tightened his grip on Kick and reached out to Kate and Maddie.

“Stay close.”

*   *   *

It was a beautiful sound.

It called to him. It sang to him. It begged him to come closer. The Hanged Man had heard it many times before but never so clearly.

Find me,
it whispered,
use me.

He would, soon.

Henry had heard the distant gunshot as well but sensed nothing special about it. Sporadic gunfire had echoed across the city continually since they’d reached the flooded downtown streets. Most of the action had elicited little response from the Hanged Man, but this most recent report had stopped him in his tracks. More disturbing, it brought a sickening grin to the dead man’s face.

The Hanged Man stepped off the sidewalk into a flooded alley. What little light there was on the street dissipated quickly in the alley and soon the dead man was swallowed up by the darkness.

Henry stood his ground, once more putting his will to the test. He felt his heart beat against the small shape in his breast pocket and wondered—not for the first time—if he didn’t feel it beating back.

The beat grew louder.

Henry stepped off the boardwalk and waded into the darkness.

25

Six blocks from the plaza, Kate and Maddie turned down an alley that cut between Stark and Washington Streets. A few moments later, Joseph made the turn, nearly slipping as he stepped off the boardwalk and into the flooded alleyway.

“Kate, wait.”

Joseph caught up to his wife and daughter halfway down the narrow backstreet. The water was only ankle deep, but rising. Two hours earlier, the alley had been bone dry.

Kate raised the firestone lamp they’d liberated from a telegraph pole, bathing the alley behind them in amber light. “Where’s Dad?”

Joseph glanced over his shoulder. “He’s coming,” he said, shifting his son’s weight onto his hip. “How’s your head, Kick?”

Kick thought for a moment. “Better. I can walk now.”

“No, I got you.”

Kate touched her husband’s arm. “Joseph, let him down for a moment.”

Joseph lifted his head to protest, but all at once he felt the strain of the evening catch up to him. He let Kick slide out of his arms and into the shallow water without a word. The boy landed on his feet but never let go, clinging to his father’s side. Joseph was glad for it.

A single gunshot echoed from around the corner. Soon after, the marshal joined the family in the alley.

“I think we’re clear of ’em. Last one was across the street and headed in the other direction. Haven’t seen any others for two blocks.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re safe,” Kate added.

Joseph listened. The events of the evening had taken their toll, dulling his perception, but he could still pull details from a block away, mostly splashing feet in the floodwaters. There was nothing to suggest any of them belonged to the shambling creatures that had attacked them.

“Marshal’s right. I think we’ve time enough to catch our breath.”

“I’ll keep watch,” the marshal said and strode back to the alley opening. The adrenaline rush that had propelled him since he’d first drawn his weapon remained. He felt good, energized. Every time he pulled the trigger, he felt more alive. Halfway down Stark Street, the marshal spotted a pair of young men running in the opposite direction of the plaza. They were no threat. He tracked them, just the same.

Kate watched her father for a moment longer, then turned to Joseph.

“In the dark, in this weather, we’re an hour from home, at least. Maybe we should make for the store.”

Joseph nodded.

“We can barricade the doors,” Kate added. “Shutter the front windows. I don’t think anyone could get in. If they don’t know we’re there…”

“They won’t try.”

“Yes. Then we can make a plan.”

Joseph looked up. “A plan?”

Kate didn’t explain—she didn’t have to. Joseph understood his wife’s intentions because he was thinking the same thing.

“You want to go back.”

Kate smiled. “Of course not, but if the kids are safe, don’t you think we should?”

He did.

“You’re going to leave us?”

Kate touched her daughter’s cheek. “Honey, you’ll be safe. One of us will stay. And your grandpa—”

“But we could come,” Kick said, only slightly groggy.

“People need our help,” Maddie added. “We can help.”

Kate looked at Joseph. He was just as surprised.

“No,” Joseph said. “No, it’s too dangerous. And you’re hurt.”

“I’m lots better,” Kick protested. “Besides, Maddie can hold me up.”

“Sure I can!”

Kick let go of his father’s waist and slipped an arm around his sister’s shoulders. Together they stood, side by side in the rising floodwaters, ready to walk back into the most horrifying night of their lives to help their neighbors. Joseph had never been prouder … or more terrified.

“No, we stay together—all of us,” he said. “Marshal? Come on, we’re going.”

The marshal trotted back to the family.

“All clear behind us.”

“Good,” Kate said, “because we need to backtrack to get to the store.”

The marshal nodded. Move toward danger? He liked that idea just fine.

Joseph opened his arms to his son. “Kick, let’s go.”

“I can walk.”

“No protesting, Kick. Come here before I…” Joseph’s words trailed off. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his perception an alarm was sounding, one he hadn’t heard for a very long time.

*   *   *

The Hanged Man stopped. It was close, now, very close. He could feel the vibrations and hear the soft hum of metal and wood. And more—the old man was with it still.

And he wasn’t alone.

The Hanged Man drew the useless revolver from his belt, a gun that would do no lasting harm as long as he was forced to pull the trigger, and stepped into the alley opening.

*   *   *

Kate couldn’t hear the alarm in her husband’s head, but she could read his face. Something was wrong.

“Joseph, what is it?”

Joseph recognized the figure that had materialized before him but refused to accept it. It didn’t matter. In his mind’s eye he saw only the truth. Joseph knew the man too well and would not be fooled by an impostor. It took only the dead man’s voice to make him believe.

“Marshal! You’ve got something of mine.”

The family turned as one to see the Hanged Man standing at the far end of the alley. He was more than a hundred feet away, but the dread that swirled around him like a cloud closed the distance in an instant. Kate drew back, sliding Maddie behind her as Joseph did the same with their son. The marshal slipped forward between the two, never taking his eyes off the demon before him.

“He wants it,” he whispered.

*   *   *

The Hanged Man could hardly believe his good fortune. Not only had he tracked down his weapon and the man who’d used it to murder him, but here, too, was his old partner, alive and well, and with the family that had cost them both so dearly. He would pay for his crimes.

They all would.

*   *   *

The Hanged Man swings again, landing a roundhouse right to the left side of Joseph’s already bloodied face. The bandages around the young man’s head have come undone, revealing a mask of seared skin and two sunken yellow slits where bright eyes should be. Both cheeks are swollen, nose likely broken. The Hanged Man’s fists are hard. He hits Joseph again, sending his old partner to his knees.

“Stop it!”

For a moment, the baby boy pressed to his mother’s bosom ceases crying, startled by her scream. The baby girl never stops. Her wailing has been constant since the Hanged Man took her in his arms. Held firm against his shoulder, she is the only reason Joseph has not felt the full force of the Hanged Man’s unnatural strength.

She is also the reason Joseph has not fought back.

“Surprised you made it,” the Hanged Man says. “Long way to suffer the dark.”

The Hanged Man looks at the child in his hand. He feels nothing.