The Demon Dead Read online

  “But how did they get in there?” Amy said.

  “I don’t know but if we can find whoever is in the church I have a feeling he’ll be able to tell us,” John said. “We need to keep moving. Be ready. This could get hairy.”

  At a trot they set out for the front of the church. The main entrance stuck out fifteen feet from the rest of the church and had a covered area for vehicles to pull up. The road curved around it.

  Working their way up the sidewalk they stopped at the entrance. A wrought iron fence stretched across the front of the steps in front of the huge wooden doors. The doors were at the top of five steps. The fence was about eight feet wide and had a double walk through gate that was opened during services. Piled between the fence and the doors, filling the entire area up to the top of the steps, were neatly stacked bodies. They alternated head to feet. The smell was a sickening gumbo of death mingled with the same smell they noticed on the bodies at John’s house. They knew for sure there were demons nearby.

  Meanwhile, while they stood and stared at the bodies, the zombies in the graveyard took notice of them and started crowding around the gate. Becoming more vociferous with every second. The sounds made the two nervous. It was becoming louder by the second. John reached over the fence and tapped on the doors with the butt of his rifle. They could hear the sound echoing through the church.

  “Hey, over here,” came a voice to their right.

  They turned to see the Rector standing at the corner of the fence on the right front of the church.

  “You’ll have to come in this way,” he said, “hurry, our friends across the street will calm down after we’re gone.”

  “I hope that gate holds,” Amy said as she reached him.

  “Don’t worry it will. It’s double chained and pad locked and they’re too stupid to try and climb out.”

  John and Amy followed him onto the church grounds. He chained the gate and locked it once they were inside.

  “Follow me. So far they haven’t been able to get inside the fence.”

  They followed him into the church where he closed and locked the doors then put a heavy wood brace across it. Then he turned back to John and Amy.

  “I’m George Finney. The church Rector,” he said sticking out his hand.

  John shook his hand first then Amy. Both telling him their names.

  “Rector, is that like a priest?” Amy said.

  “Something like that. We’re Episcopalian. Kind of like Catholic light I guess,” he said smiling.

  “I’m Catholic,” John said, “so I’m familiar with your church. I live… or lived I guess I should say, at Mount Pleasant before all this.”

  “And you?” the Rector asked Amy.

  “I’m from Columbia. Irmo actually.”

  “Oh ok, I know where that is. Used to play you guys in football when I was in high school.”

  “You played football?” Amy said not expecting the mild mannered little priest to have been a football player.

  “Sure did. Of course I had no idea I was going to be a member of the clergy at the time. Actually I kind of enjoyed the violence,” he said laughing. “I was a stocky five foot six running back. Little did I know I had already topped out height wise.”

  He laughed again.

  “Come into my office I have a lot of questions for you guys and I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me too.”

  They followed him into the office where they took seats in big wing back leather chairs in front of the Rector’s desk. He pulled three wine glasses from under his desk and then took a bottle of red wine from a drawer and poured them each a small glass.

  “Here you go,” he said handing them each a glass, “you deserve a little vino for your troubles.”

  John took a sip relishing the flavor. Susan was a red wine lover. The aroma reminded him of the many nights they sat close on the couch sipping wine and watching movies.

  “Amy how did you come to be in Charleston now?” George asked.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll let John give you the cliff notes version of it.”

  John began to speak and recounted his journey from Charleston to North Carolina and then to the upstate and how he came to find Amy. He then filled in the time between then and the present. He was careful not to be too detailed wanting to have a longer discussion with the clergyman about their theories on zombie disposition.

  “It’s heartening to hear you have a child with you. I’ve spoken to no survivors. I have seen a few from the bell tower but they couldn’t get here to safety in time. Some of them were taken out by the mob across the street before I locked them up and…”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. You, locked them, in there?” Amy asked.

  “Sure did. I had to experiment with several different methods but eventually stumbled onto something.”

  “What’s that?” John asked.

  “Flares. They love flares. I’m not quite sure why. I think it’s a combination of the bright light and the pungent smell of sulfur. Some of them linger in the sulfur cloud and breathe it in as if it were the smell of gardenia blossoms.”

  “How did you get them in the cemetery?” Amy asked.

  “At first I tried throwing things out there to see if they would go after it. Shoes, food, whatever. They paid it no attention,” he said, “then I found a box of flares in the basement, went out into the yard and tossed one over the fence into the street. The front of the church was crowded with those things. I had been ringing the bell to let people know I was here. So they would know they had a safe place to go. But the only thing it attracted we’re those damn zombies.”

  The Rector paused to pour himself another glass of wine.

  “Are you hungry,” he asked taking a sip.

  “No thanks,” Amy said.

  “Ok, suit yourself,” he said retrieving a sandwich from another desk drawer.

  “So what happened when you threw the flare over the fence?” John asked.

  “They mauled the thing. It was like throwing a bag of cocaine on the floor at a strip club.”

  John laughed. Amy looked down, surprised at the Rector’s analogy.

  The Rector continued. “So I went back inside and rang the church bell some more off and on all day until I think I had most of the zombies in the city crowded around the church. Then,” he said pausing for a moment, “I grabbed about ten flares and went up into the bell tower. Luckily the gate was wide open so I threw the first one as far as I could. It bounced off a couple of trees then landed right in the middle of the cemetery so I threw another one and another. You’ve should’ve seen them.”

  “A mad dash huh?” John said.

  “It was like being at Wal-Mart the day after Thanksgiving. You know, on black Friday when they first open the doors,” he said.

  “Wow, that is scary,” Amy said laughing.

  The rector laughed then continued. “I let the first three burn down close to the end then threw three more. By this time almost all of the ones that had gathered at the front of the church were inside the fence. A few stragglers were filing in slowly. Finally there were only a couple of them not in the fence so I threw two more to keep their attention then ran down, unlocked the side gate, rushed over to the cemetery gate and closed it.”

  “None of them came after you?” Amy said.

  “No. I closed the gate, wrapped the chain around it as quietly as I could then locked the padlock, which made a metal clanking sound when I did. That got their attention because the flares went out at about the same time. After that I locked myself in the church compound and haven’t been out since. So, there you go.”

  “Wow,” Amy said, “impressive.”

  “I don’t know about impressive but it’s a lot safer around here now. I’ve been watching them. They’re too stupid to figure out how to get out,” the Rector said draining his wine glass. “Did you see the tour guide and his horse drawn carriage?”

  “Yes as a matter of fact we did. Just before we got here,” John sa
id.

  “Yeah,” Amy added, “that was a surreal moment to say the least.”

  “They’ve been riding these streets for days. I watch them sometimes. You know that driver goes back to the stable and feeds and waters that horse?”

  “Really?” Amy said looking at John and wondering when he would bring up the subject of the demons.

  “Sure does. It’s like they don’t even know they’re dead poor things. I came here straight away that first morning after I saw the news on TV. Felt like this was where I needed to be. I expected to have part of my congregation show up looking for shelter but it didn’t happen.”

  “There aren’t that many survivors. That we’ve seen anyway,” John said. “We think there has to be more but we think they’re hiding. Afraid to come out.”

  “I don’t know,” the Rector said, “I’ve been ringing this bell for days. Nobody’s come yet except for a couple of people I saw two days ago but like I said, they didn’t make it. I’ve heard gunshots occasionally over the past few days but don’t know who’s behind it.”

  He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “We deserved it,” he said, “brought it on ourselves. I don’t know why I’ve been spared but, there has to be a reason.”

  “I hope there is a reason,” Amy said, “I’ve always thought that everything happens for a reason. Now, I’m not so sure. What could possibly be the reason for this?”

  “Well,” the Rector said, “first was the flood, and now this.”

  “You mean you think God is destroying the world?” John asked.

  “Yes, kind of. He’s not really destroying the world, just us,” he paused then added. “Kind of like hitting the reset button.”

  “We’re being deleted,” Amy said.

  “Something like that. It’s in your bible. Revelations. Seven angels with the seven vials of the wrath of God. Look it up. This is just the beginning.”

  John leaned up and moved his chair closer. “Can we run something by you?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “We’ve been watching these things closely now for a week. We think we have it figured out,” John said then looked at Amy. “Tell him.”

  “Ok,” she said sitting and sliding forward in the chair, “there are three kinds of zombies you know,” she began. “The first kind are like the ones you have locked up over there in the cemetery.”

  “Ok…” the rector said.

  “The other type is like the carriage driver and his passengers. It’s like you said. They don’t know they’re dead so they try to keep doing things like they did when they were alive. We think this kind of zombie must have the soul of the original person trapped inside,” she paused and cleared her throat then turned to John. “Could I have some water please?”

  John opened the backpack and handed her a bottle.

  “Thank you,” she said then continued. “Whatever it is there is some kind of connection between the zombie and the consciousness of the person.”

  “Sounds plausible,” the Rector said.

  “Then the ones in the cemetery, they are just unthinking soulless killing machines. Like a shark. All instinct, very little intelligence.”

  “Go on.”

  “Then there is a third kind,” she said.

  “Ah, the third kind,” the rector said, “You must be talking about the kind that put the bodies in front of the church.”

  “Yes exactly. We’ve seen that before in other places. We call them demons. We think when the body dies and the soul leaves, the body comes back as the first type. Then the demons, evil spirits or whatever you want to call them come in and occupy the space left vacant when the soul leaves.”

  “We’ve seen them jump from one regular zombie to another,” John said, “but never to a gomer.”

  “Interesting. That may explain something.”

  “What’s that,” Amy asked.

  “They haven’t tried to get inside the church. They bring the bodies at night when I’m sleeping but they’ve never beat on the door or tried to get in. Your theory could explain it. They can’t enter the church so they don’t try. You said you’ve seen them jump from one body to another. How so?”

  “I don’t think they can leave their host until it’s been killed. Once inside they’re trapped. Similar to how our soul is trapped in the physical body until we die. But, if you kill it, by shooting it in the head, it’s free to take over another zombie. Only the first type though because there is no soul occupying the space it needs to take over,” John took a drink from the wine glass and continued. “Earlier today I killed one. There were two of the first type nearby. All four of us witnessed it taking over the other two each time I killed it.”

  “So, you killed the demon, it moved into the next one, you killed that one and it took over the last one. So what happened to it then?” asked the Rector.

  “We think it’s either still out there looking for a new host or it’s already taken one over,” Amy said.

  “You could be right but who knows. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Look, you should go back to your boat and bring the other two to the church. It’s safe here.”

  “We were hoping you would come with us,” John said, “we have a plan to try to communicate with the authorities. If there are any.”

  “No, I’m supposed to be here. This is my church and this is where I serve. Some of the people you see across the street are from this church, so I’ll stay right here where I belong,” he said. “And just exactly what is your plan?”

  “We’re going to the light house on Sullivan’s Island.” John said. “As far as I know it’s still operated by the coast guard so I would expect there to be a generator and communication equipment there.”

  “We’ve heard a civil defense tone on the radio,” Amy said. “No voice broadcast but someone has to be sending it out.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Can you take me up to the bell tower?” John asked, “I need to signal Derek on our boat.”

  “Sure,” the Rector said, “follow me.”

  They followed him out of the office and into the sanctuary. On the far side was a wooden door that led to a staircase.

  “We don’t go up here much under normal conditions. The bell is automated although you can ring it manually from the tower. That’s what I’ve been doing the past week.”

  They followed him up the circular staircase. Amy stopped near the top to rest. John and the Rector continued. Once at the top John pulled the yellow rag from his pocket and waved it until Derek responded with one blast from the boat’s horn.

  “There they are,” Derek told Jimmy. “It’s about damn time.”

  John stopped for a moment to look around the city from this vantage point. He raised the binoculars to look at the boat. Derek was looking back. He panned around and was surprised to see that the city actually looked peaceful. Wisps of smoke rose from a smoldering fire off to the North West. The horse carriage was turning off of Market Street making another lap and the battery area looked busy due to the number of cars there but John saw only three zombies wandering around on the sidewalk.

  “Great view,” Amy said as she had walked up behind them.

  “Yes it is,” the Rector said, “and to think I had only been up here once before Tuesday. I wish I had spent a little more time up here when I could have enjoyed it.”

  “John we need to get going. Mr. Finney you should come with us.”

  “I have to look over my flock,” he said laughing and motioning toward the cemetery full of undead people, “besides, there still could be more survivors in the city waiting on the opportunity to come here.”

  “Can you spare some of those flares?” John asked.

  “Sure, the box is in my office. You can take all you can carry.”

  “Thanks. Is their anything we can do for you before we go?” John asked.

  “No, I have all I need.”

  Amy reached around to her back and took the pistol from her belt and offered it to the Re
ctor.

  “Take this. If you run into one of the demons you’ll need it.”

  “I can’t take that,” he said.

  “She’s right Mr. Finney,” John said, “you’ll have to leave the church sooner or later. You’ll need protection.”

  The Rector reached up and took hold of the cross hanging around his neck. “I have my protection right here,” he said, “if God wanted me to have a gun he would have placed one on my desk.”

  Amy looked at John and placed the gun back in her belt without protesting. John handed the Rector the yellow rag and asked him to wave it in five minutes to let Derek know they were on their way back.

  “Wave it until he blows the horn. That’s to let us know he saw it.”

  “I will,” he said handing John a key with a red ribbon tied to it, “here is the key for the back gate that leads out into the alley. After you lock it back toss the key inside the fence far enough to be out of reach. I’ll come down and get it later.”

  “Do you have a flashlight?” John asked him.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Tonight at nine o’clock be up here. We’ll signal you from the lighthouse to let you know we got there. Ok? Watch for two long flashes. You answer the same way. We’ll signal each other every night at nine. If we don’t signal you one evening hopefully that means we made contact and have left and not that we’re all dead. If we do make it out we’ll send help for you.”

  The Rector nodded in agreement then he shook their hand. As they started down the stairs Amy told him they would see him again soon.

  “I look forward to it,” he said, “God bless.”

  John and Amy disappeared down the stairs and into the sanctuary. They entered the Rector’s office and put fifteen flares in the backpack then stuck several in their pockets. John gave Amy a quick lesson in how to use them.

  She took the pistol out again and placed it in the center of the Rector’s desk along with an extra twenty rounds of ammo.

  “What are you doing?” John asked, “he said he didn’t want the gun.”

  “No,” Amy said, “he said if God wanted him to have a gun one would have been placed on his desk… So, would you look at that. There’s a gun sitting on his desk, so evidently God does want him to have it.”