Read Wormwood Dawn (Episode VI) Online

Authors: Edward Crae

Tags: #Post-Apocalyptic | Horror

Wormwood Dawn (Episode VI) (6 page)

He hated it.

“This town reminds of a little Disney World area,” he said. “I keep thinking Mickey Mouse or a dude dressed in peasant clothing is gonna step out and scare the shit out of us.”

“That’s the appeal,” Toni said. “Old pioneer colony shit. I like it.”

Jake shrugged, following her up the sidewalk to the gun shop’s front door. Not that they really had to use the front door; the left corner of the building was partially crumbled, revealing the pegboards of tactical parts that hung on the walls.

The small foyer had a small flight of stairs going up to the main area, and a stairway to the right that led down into the darkness. Toni stepped up to the main floor, and holstered her revolvers after taking a quick look around.

Jake’s eyes were immediately drawn to the shotguns that hung on the back wall, and Toni went to the right, where the handguns and ammo were located. Jake grinned at the shotguns, but was really interested in a particular rifle that hung alongside them. It was a Hi-Point 9mm Carbine; basically a pistol in the shape of a rifle. He had heard about them—good things mostly—but its appeal was more curiosity, not functionality.

In the glass case, were laser sights, scopes, fore grips, and just about anything else that could be mounted on a picatinny rail. Nothing particularly useful for a shotgun. However, there was a shell holder that buckled onto the buttstock. He took it, installed it, and filled it up with shells from his pocket.

As he turned to join Toni, he noticed a jewel of a rifle. In a nearby case that was shattered and knocked over, some dipshit had left his favorite rifle. The beautifully crafted lever-action Henry Repeater was truly a sight for sore eyes. It was the most kickass piece of machinery ever constructed by man. He shouldered his shotgun and picked up the bad boy, admiring it like a crack head admiring a rock—or something just as disturbing.

He searched the nearby shelves and racks for a sling, finding a nice black leather dealie with studs and skulls. He attached it quickly and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Now he could join Toni in the search for ammo.

She was still in the handgun room, trying on various new holsters. She currently admired herself in a cowboy-like leather belt with low-hanging holsters. She looked up at Jake as he entered. Jake nodded his approval. She looked hot as fuck; like an escaped slave chick strapping up to take revenge on her former captors. The movie
Django
came to mind.

“Damn,” Jake said. “They’re definitely you.”

“Did you find anything you like?” she asked.

He held up his new Henry. Toni stuck out an approving lip, slipping on a new coat she had found. It was black suede, with nice, big cowboy buckles, and a studded belt.

“You look fucking bad ass,” Jake said. “I need to find me another coat.”

Toni pointed over to the opposite wall. There, on a hook, was a black leather trench coat; sleek and shiny, and extra-large. Jake grinned, dropping his gear and trying it on. It fit almost perfectly. Strangely enough, the sleeves were a bit long.

“This must have belonged to someone even taller than me,” he said. “But it works.”

Toni gave him an approving nod, holding her revolvers up. “Now we look like some total badasses,” she said.

Jake picked up his gear. “Alright then,” he said. “Let’s grab some more ammo and go do some badass shit.”

Chapter Six

Travis watched from the safety of the scaffolding as Cliff crept up behind a shuffler that was spotted roaming the nearby forest. He had asked Cliff to try and disable one without damaging it too much. He had faith that the man could do it, as his military experience had made him an effective “creeper” as Cliff had put it.

Travis had an idea that could help him figure out the cause of the infection. The shufflers seemed to be mindless wanderers with a single purpose; to migrate to areas where the living were gathered in large numbers. Though in the past this was obvious, it was clear that their purpose or instinct had changed. They were now aggressive, and Travis wanted to know why.

He clenched his jaw as Cliff neared the creature. The thing was oblivious to his approach and made no indication that it even had any idea of its surroundings. It was simply a lone wanderer with no real destination. That was good. It was what he had hoped for, as it would support his theory.

Cliff dispatched the creature quickly by jabbing his knife into the base of its skull. The thing dropped like a rock, and Cliff gave Travis a thumbs up. Eric burst from the brush on the outside of the fence, rushing toward Cliff, clothed in a jump suit, rubber gloves, and a dust mask. He quickly took the creature by the shoulders and dragged it around to the gate, where Lena stood watch.

Travis ran over to it, kneeling beside its lifeless form as the others gathered around. He donned his own mask, rubber gloves, and apron, and drew his knife.

“Stand back,” he said to the others. “I don’t want anyone getting infected with this fungus.”

He stared down at the shuffler’s face, noting the extreme infestation of mold that had eaten away most of its skin. Carefully, he placed his knife against its forehead, rocking it with hard downward pressure as if he were splitting a coconut. The skull was surprisingly easy to cut, and he had no trouble penetrating it.

When he was satisfied with his cut, he set his knife aside. He then placed his fingers into the split, and gently pulled. The skull came apart with some cracking and slurping noises, followed by the rank stench of mildew and other foul things.

“Jesus Christ,” Cliff said.

Travis could hear Eric make a gagging noise. Lena was silent.

“Now,” Travis said. “Let’s take a look at this brain.”

He pulled as hard as he could, laying the entire head open into two halves. Through the smell, and the tiny wisps of spores, Travis could see the brain. It was gelatinous, partially liquefied, and black. He stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what could cause such a thing. He thought back to his medical training in the early days, when he had performed dissections of cadavers that had died of mysterious circumstances.

The only thing he could compare the brain’s condition to was the decay caused by major fungal infections; mostly due to black mold. It was very similar here.

“Look at how the tissue has been partially dissolved,” he said, poking the brain with his knife. “It still maintains its shape, for the most part, but the frontal and temporal lobes are nothing but putrefied shells.”

He jabbed his knife into the black material, swirling it around, letting it fall away like gelatin. When he had scraped away everything that he could, all that was left was a small section of organ attached the spinal cord, with a jumble of nerves that connected it to a slightly larger organ.

“Medulla Oblongata,” he said. “Brain stem, amygdala, cerebellum. These are the most primitive areas; the ones that control motor skills, involuntary processes, and the rest of it controls basic instincts.”

“Like what?” Cliff asked.

“Hunger, fight or flight, aggression.”

He lifted up the floppy section with his knife. “It’s this part that worries me,” he said. “It’s much larger than usual, and has something unknown attached to it. And that, itself, has a cord that wraps itself around the medulla oblongata and proceeds into the spinal column.”

“What is it?” Lena asked. Eric vomited nearby.

“Well,” Travis said, watching Eric spew the contents of his stomach. “I’m not sure, man. The only thing I tell is that the areas of the brain that control our speech, thinking, and reasoning are gone. All that’s left is the primitive part necessary for this thing to walk, see, hear, and do a minimum of thinking. If you look here, there is a very small portion of entorhinal cortex left. That tells me that maybe there is a small amount of memory left. But it would be just enough for it to recognize material things.”

“Like what?” Lena asked, seemingly fascinated. Eric vomited again.

“Something like ‘hey, that’s a tree. Walk around it,’ or whatever. This is fascinating, man. Heavy shit.”

“So,” Cliff said. “It’s basically a Democrat.”

Travis chuckled, shaking his head.

“Cut open its abdomen,” Cliff said. “Dan and Drew said these things are where the floaters come from.”

“Floaters?” Travis asked.

“The green things.”

Travis nodded. He remembered now. There was one in the woods nearby when they had first arrived. It was going uphill toward the church that Eric and Dan had found a few days earlier. Maybe that was what had caused the people there to turn. He got up and crouched next to the creature’s abdomen, pulling its ‘Have a Nice Day’ T-shirt up.

With a careful hand, he cut open the soft flesh. Once again, the smell of rot, mildew, and shit spewed out like a cloud of poisonous shit. Eric vomited again.

“Good lord,” Lena said, standing and backing away.

Travis pulled the abdomen apart, clenching his teeth as the gloppy slimy flesh tore open. Inside the cavity, there was a brown mass of tissue that was wrapped in some sort of transparent sack. The same strange looking cord was wrapped around the object, and it went into the spinal column just at the base of the pelvis.

“It looks like an embryonic floater,” Cliff said. “Not that I’ve seen one before, but I imagine that’s what it would look like.”

Travis nodded, disgusted. He had seen enough. His theory was correct; at least as the shufflers were concerned. He wondered still what the story was with the others; the shamblers and their aggressiveness, or the mutant things that were nothing short of monsters from some alien horror movie.

“Alright,” he said, standing. “Let’s burn this thing up and have beer. This really fucked me up, man.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Cliff asked.

Travis nodded, staring down at the creature. “Unfortunately, yes.”

 

Dan, Drew, and Max arrived at the Salt Creek area of Nashville just at the beginnings of dusk. There was a chain grocery store, a McDonald’s, the hardware store, and several clinics there. There were also some apartments, one of them half-finished, and a police station nestled in back.

The first stop was the grocery store, which they plundered for food without incident. Dan and Drew stocked up on what beer and wine was left, as well as canned foods, water, and other necessities—Lena had asked for a particular list of feminine hygiene products.

After their successful plunder, they headed for the hardware store. There, Max found the electrical equipment needed to get the solar array going, and they stocked up on some ammo and other supplies. They even grabbed a long roll of drainage tile and a random selection of plumbing supplies to make life a little easier.

“Hot showers,” Dan had said. “If we can get the well pump working.”

The nearby clinic was a goldmine of medical supplies. Evidently, this particular clinic had everything it needed to avoid sending its patients to the hospital for testing. It had a radiology department, a lab, and its own pharmacy. Max had gathered everything that Travis had requested, along with some odds and ends that Cliff asked for. Again, it went off without a hitch. There didn't seem to be any infected in this area. Or, if there were, they weren’t interested.

“What now?” Drew asked.

“There’s a pharmacy up ahead,” he said. “There should be more antibiotics and party favors there. Plus, I’d like to take a look at some of the gun stores. The hardware store didn’t have much ammo left. We’re all using the same ammo for the most part. Either we get more of it, or go shopping for other rifles.”

“There aren’t many 9mm rounds left,” Max said. “You guys use most of them in your handguns.”

“Maybe you can find something more suited for you than that MP5,” Dan said. “That’s too fucking loud anyway.”

Max held up his gun, shrugging.

They piled back into the pickup, driving off much heavier than they had arrived. It was only a short drive to the pharmacy from there, and an even shorter drive into the town itself.

“Let’s hope this place is stocked up, too,” Drew said as they pulled into the parking lot. “I bet this was the only pharmacy in town. All of the druggie fucks in town probably robbed it at the first sign of trouble.”

Dan shook his head, grinning. “Druggie fucks,” he mumbled.

The front door was smashed in, as was expected, and the shelves were nearly empty. Strangely enough, Dan thought he could smell the remnants of black powder, as if there had been a gunfight here recently. He cautioned the others with a hand as he stepped further inside, sniffing and listening for any signs of life. Though he didn’t hear anything, his heart was racing, and his skin crawled. Maybe it was the smell of gunfire, but he wasn’t sure.

Something made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, though.

“Careful,” he said, waving the others in.

They all stood near the entrance, guns raised, and noses sniffing.

“What’s that smell?” Max asked.

“Gun powder,” Dan said. “Lots of it.”

He continued forward, avoiding the piles and piles of worthless items on the floor. He could see the pharmacy counter in the back, and avoided everything else as he made his way there. Behind him, Drew and Max took various things off the shelves and pocketed them.

“Max,” Dan whispered. “Do you have the list still?”

Max nodded. “Got a lot of it at the clinic,” he said. “But there are a few more items we can only get here.”

They reached the end of the aisle, where they stopped. Dan crouched, sniffing the air again. Whatever had gone down in this place, it had obviously happened near the pharmacy counter. He peered around the corner of the shelf, seeing nothing ahead. The counter was broken and partially shattered, but there was no movement or sound coming from behind it.

Satisfied, he shouldered his rifle and stood.

“It looks clear,” he said. “Let’s go.”

As expected, the drugs were scattered on the floor. The entire pharmacy area was in disarray, obviously looted on several occasions, and even the drive up window was broken. The most curious thing, however, was the series of large holes in the tiled ceiling. To Dan, they looked like bullet holes; large caliber bullet holes.

“Um… gentlemen,” Max said with a disturbing amount of fear in his voice.

Dan turned to look in the direction that Max indicated. His heart jumped when he saw the remains of the creature that was sprawled and twisted among the remains of the counter. It was obviously a stalker; dead and mutilated with gunshots; again, large caliber gunshots.

“Somebody killed the shit out of this thing,” Drew said.

Dan searched the floor for bullet casings. There were only a few shotgun shells—12 gauge. But that was not what had killed the creature. The holes in the far wall told Dan that whoever had been using the shotgun had missed his or her target. The holes in the creature, though large, were not from a shotgun.

“There must have been two people,” Dan said. “One with a shotgun who couldn’t aim worth a shit, and one with a large caliber handgun who was spot on.”

“Did you watch a lot of CSI?” Drew joked.

Dan snickered. “Who didn’t?”

“That was one of my favorite shows,” Max said. “Very dramatized, yet incredibly accurate in its scientific methods. Judging by the hardness of this creature’s flesh, and the size of the bullet holes, I would wager a guess that the shooter in question was armed with some sort of magnum; two of them, probably.”

Dan grinned. “So we’re either looking for Lara Croft, or some kind of Mexican bandit.”

Max nodded with a smile. “Let’s hope for the former.”

“Tittieeeeeees,”
Drew said with a goofy, toothy grin.

“Max, try to find all the antibiotics,” Dan said. “I wanna check this cooler over here.”

He walked over to the knocked over refrigerated storage unit, bending down to examine its former contents.

“Drug cooler,” Max said. “Some medications require refrigeration. Insulin, some antibiotics, other things.”

Insulin,
Dan thought. He looked over to Drew, whose face echoed his own thoughts. However, neither one of them said anything. Dan looked at each vial in turn, noting that only a few of them were insulin. They were clouded and probably spoiled. Who knows? He didn’t know shit about insulin. Maybe it was supposed to look that way.

“Dan,” Max said from nearby. “There are some steroidal medications here. Though Travis didn’t specifically ask for any, I’m grabbing some just in case.”

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