Revenence (Book 1): Dead Silence Read online

  "Brain hemorrhage," Fauna said numbly, lowering her head. Shari sighed. She could see where this was going just as well as Fauna could.

  Mitchell continued. "I just didn't know. I felt so relieved for him... I thought the car seat had done its job, kept him safe. I heard before that if the baby is properly strapped in, those seats can do miracles to save the child's life. I was gonna bring him back here, figured we'd care for him, least 'till we figured out somethin' else to do with him. He was still cryin' real loud. I figured that even if the car seat had kept him alive, he must still be in an awful lotta pain, maybe even suffered a concussion. Plus, I figured he'd be real confused and scared, possibly hungry to boot. I held him and cradled him to my chest, told him everything would be alright. Well, after a couple minutes, he gradually started to quiet down. And after a few minutes of that, he went silent. Stupid me, I thought he had fallen asleep, exhausted from the ordeal he had been through. But Fauna, he didn't go to sleep, he died." He started to weep. "But I just wanted to help that baby boy. I couldn't stand the thought of him just sittin' in that carseat, not knowin' what was goin' on, his whole family dead. I just wasn't thinkin'. I managed to drive here over a hundred miles unscathed, and a tiny baby is what did me in. Baby just old enough to have all his teeth, and man, did he dig in. You wouldn't think a baby so tiny could do this to my neck!" he wailed, pointing to his injury. "And then I had to take out my pistol, and I...I mean, I had to, didn't have a choice...."

  Fauna nodded, her eyes closed. "It's alright, baby. You don't have to explain that part."

  "But I learned a valuable lesson from all this. Honey, it ain't just the bite. Anyone who dies comes back. After that baby bit me, I looked him over again, even more thorough this time. I thought for sure there must've been some bite or scratch I overlooked. But there wasn't, not a goddam scratch on him. Just some welts from where the straps on his carseat had hurt him from the impact. Nowhere on him was there any sign of broken skin. He died and he came back, and I'm tellin' you, he was neither bit nor scratched. I guess the brain injury he suffered was bad enough to kill him, but not so bad he couldn't come back. So anytime you see anyone die, anyone, don't matter what the cause of death is...you put a bullet or an arrow or a blade in their head, make sure they don't come back, you hear me?" Fauna nodded, tears flowing down her weathered cheeks.

  "I'm so sorry, baby. I just wanted to be here with you. I wanted us to be here for each other, and now I'm gonna be one of them!" He grabbed her by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. "You gotta put me down, woman."

  Fauna shook her head, her blonde waves tousling about her face. "No, I won't do it. I can't."

  "You got no choice. I'm bleeding out real bad, and you know it. Already lost a shitload, as you can see," he said, pointing to the trail of blood leading from the open door of his truck to the front door of the house. "If you must, go ahead and wait 'till I'm dead. But you keep an eye on me, don't y'all turn your backs on me, even for a second. And no sooner'n that last breath leaves my body, you gotta be ready to do me in." He handed her his pistol. "Don't wait for me to get up. Lord knows it won't take long."

  Fauna and Mitchell stood holding one another for another twenty seconds or so, before he went limp. She slowly let his corpse fall to the ground and backed up. It's time, the voice in Shari's head told her. The voice that floated up eerily, gurgling up through the bottom of a well.

  "Damn it, I don't want to do this!" Fauna moaned.

  "You don't have to," Shari replied. "Don't look." And with that, she stepped into the shadow of the covered porch, lifted the fifteen-pound sledgehammer she had found on her way out of the garage, and brought it down onto Mitchell Astley's head.

  Shari had dug all afternoon, with Fauna's help. Just before sunset, they had finally finished digging a grave for Mitchell. It was near his favorite tree, a sturdy dwarf cherry that yielded pints upon pints of sweet cherries every summer. Fauna thought he would have appreciated that, nourishing the tree as his body decomposed. The tree was in full bloom as they dug, a twenty-foot mound of snowy white blossoms almost reaching down to the ground. Immediately after the re-killing, Shari had wrapped Mitchell's body in a large piece of canvas Fauna had retrieved from the garage. She had been unable to keep herself from looking at his ruined face as she had wrapped him. She had felt almost a duty to look. After all, she had thought, I was the one that did this to him. It was a macabre way of honoring life. She honored it enough to know that no human being with a conscience would want to come back like that. And that was the tragic beauty of his caved-in skull and distorted face. He would not walk again to kill any other human beings. Gazing, unflinching, at Mitchell had been Shari's way of reinforcing those concepts to herself. The two women said a few words before rolling his body into the hole and heaping the Earth onto him in conclusion.

  Shari was out on the balcony, continuing her study of ham radio. She figured radio was likely to be the standard way of communicating, at least once things were settled enough for people to care about reaching out to the world again. The internet and TV both required massive amounts of maintenance, which translated to massive amounts of people to do said maintenance. That made it highly likely that those forms of media weren't coming back anytime soon. She doubted she'd see it happen in her lifetime. Radio, on the other hand--radio waves were not going anywhere. They couldn't be taken away, and now that the FCC was, presumably, no more, the airwaves belonged to the people...at least whatever people were left that cared to use them.

  Fauna joined Shari on the balcony, two glasses of lemonade in her hands. She handed one to Shari. "Fixin' to be a ham?" Fauna enquired with a smile as she sat down in the lounger across from Shari.

  "I figure it's most likely going to be the standard form of communication now that most of the 'net's down," she replied. "Hell, people could be using it now, for all we know."

  "Most likely," Fauna said, lighting up a smoke. "I take it you saw the radio I got down in the garage, and the tower out back. To be honest, I'm thinkin' about usin' it. It's time we try to contact the outside world."

  "Yeah," Shari agreed. "I doubt anyone's really considering it a priority right now to fix the internet servers that are down...if anyone's even left that knows how to do it. Same with TV, cell phones. The satellites are all still there, and I'm sure everything'll eventually be up and running again. But most likely, it'll be a long time before that happens." She looked toward the southern horizon, past the road, her eyes scanning the rolling hills. "You and me, we survived...but from what I saw that first day, we might be in the minority."

  "Yep," Fauna agreed quietly. "Radio's the way to go for now. Now, our radio signal can be tracked, so we're gonna have to be on our guard. And it's best if we don't tell people the kinda safety we got here. We don't want anyone gettin' any brilliant ideas to come tryin' to take our shit from us." She looked Shari square in the eye. "We need to make it to where, as far as anyone knows, we're just as far up Shit Creek as everybody else. But, just in case, I still got a decent security setup, and enough power to keep it goin'. If I get all that in order, we should be fairly safe. It's still a gamble, but what isn't these days?" She chuckled. "Besides, you and me'll get tired of each other real fast if we ain't got no one else to take to. No sense in the radios goin' to waste. There's one in the garage, one up in the loft. Mitchell and me ain't used it in years, but it won't take much to get it goin'. Should make for a strong, far-reachin' signal. Mitchell was a true ham radio enthusiast back in the day, 'fore everyone had cell phones and such, so everything's top-notch. I'll get all that in order, start teachin' you how to use it. Maybe we'll get some idea of what's goin' on out in the world without havin' to leave the safety of my property."

  "That's the plan," Shari said.

  "And in the mean time, you read up. Keep it up, and maybe you won't need me to teach you after all."

  The next morning, Fauna insisted she was ready to go ahead with the bow lesson she had promised Shari.

  "Ar
e you sure you're up to it?" Shari asked tentatively.

  "Don't you enable me, alright?" Fauna said flatly, her face hardened. "This is a survival situation. If one intends to survive, that sometimes means grievin' while you go about your business. I still gotta do what needs to be done." She paused for a moment, gazing out the balcony doors. "And while we're on the subject, don't give me none of that, 'Oh Fauna, I'm so sorry I smashed your husband's head in,' bullshit, 'cause you gotta know you were doin' me a favor. Needed to be done." She paused. "I say it's common courtesy. If someone's gotta do some re-killin', it shouldn't be kin or close friends if at all possible. We ever see anyone you know all zombified, needin' to be put down, I'll return the favor." She locked gazes with Shari. "Truth be told, I was impressed. Least in retrospect, once the shock wore off and I thought long and hard about it. I mean, you didn't hesitate. You focused on the task at hand, stayin' alive. You just keep doin' that."

  Shari became lost again in the memory of the incident, as she had a handful of times since it had happened. She thought back to that voice she had heard in her head just before she took the sledge to his head, the one that told her all the things she didn't want to hear, prepared her for things she didn't want to face. She reflected on how disembodied she had felt as she lifted that sledge and brought it down onto Mitchell's skull, a man who only moments before had been quite alive. Alive and sobbing, a look of anguish in his eyes. Alive and telling a tragic story of how he had let his guard down trying to save a baby boy. A hardened survival man who saw something good and innocent in the world and wanted to protect it....a man who died trying to protect it. She remembered how the fifteen pounds of metal had torn into his skull the way a wrecking ball tears into a condemned house--with the greatest of ease. Mitchell Astley's partially-functioning brain was a condemned house. It was a danger to everyone around it, and it was best taken care of. At least she had the comfort of knowing he wouldn't have had it any other way. He was dead when she brought the sledgehammer down onto his head, dead but not yet reanimated. She hoped that when she had to do it again...and she knew all too well it was a matter of when and not if... that she could always have it that way. Dead, but yet not reanimated. Every last breath is sacred, every final moment. The light of life shining in a person's eyes was something never to be taken lightly. She knew she never wanted to take life, if at all possible, only to stop the dead from getting back up as less than human.

  The thoughts nearly overwhelmed her. On the other hand, she knew she had to be strong for Fauna's sake. Fauna was strong for her, even after what had happened to her husband just the day before in front of her very eyes. Shari felt the least she could do was summon the same fortitude.

  "Yeah, I'll keep doing that," she replied softly.

  "Good. Now let's get you some target practice, honey."

  "Now this here's your basic recurve bow," Fauna said. They were on the large backyard lawn behind the house, where Fauna had some targets set up about twenty yards away for the classes she taught on occasion. "'Bout the best bow to start out with, I figure. Minimal amount of shock on the hand. This one here is 65 pounds at twenty-eight inches. Now, what that means is that when you pull this here string back 28 inches and let the arrow fly, that arrow hits with sixty-five pounds of pressure. And let me tell you," she said, gently touching the tip of an arrow, "this arrow hits you, or a deer, or zombie with 65 pounds of pressure, you're a goner. Pretty impressive, huh?" Shari nodded. "At first, you may have a little trouble getting it all the way back to 28 inches, but you'll get there. Now if you get real good with this thing and build some strength, you can pull the string back farther than 28 inches and get even more pounds out of it." She handed the bow to Shari. "Here, just hold it and get used to the feel of it."

  Shari took the weapon and regarded it the way a virgin would regard a condom. It was a look that said, I think i get the gist of it, but...

  "You right-handed?" Fauna asked.

  "Yeah."

  "Okay, so take your right hand and put it right here on the bow." She pointed. "That's called the riser. Now take your left hand, the one with that funny little glove I gave you, and put the little notch on the tail of the arrow in between those two little points on your string. Those are your nockin' points, that's 'nock' with an N, not a K. Those will help hold your arrow steady. Me, I choose to have two nockin' points, at least when I'm teachin' a beginner to shoot. Holds it steadier than the standard single point. Now take your left hand and pull that string back. This is the part where you'll be glad you got that glove. Protects your hand from the string, especially after you been pullin' the damn thing back all day long. Now to draw that arrow, what you wanna do is push forward with your right arm at the same time you're drawin' your left arm back. Draw that sucker back 'till you touch your face with your left hand," Fauna said, demonstrating on her own bow. "I touch the corner of my mouth, like this. Now you wanna simply look where you want the arrow to go. Don't look at the bow, don't look at the arrow. In archery, we're goin' for intuitive shootin'. Just look where you want the arrow to go..." She pointed at one of the targets. "And release." The arrow flew and hit the target dead-center. "Now you try it."

  Shari drew back until she was touching her mouth with her left hand, trembling from the difficulty of the task. She looked at the center of the target about fifty feet away, spent a handful of seconds meticulously aiming, and let the arrow fly. She hit the lower edge of the target.

  "That's real good for your first try. You just sit tight for a little bit and get used to the feel of holdin' the bow and shootin'. Just get comfortable with it. I'll just be on the deck over there, sharpenin' and tendin' to some arrows. Lord knows we're gonna need a whole lot more of 'em."

  "Okay, will do," Shari said, taking another arrow out of the quiver on her hip. She nocked it the way Fauna had shown her, then drew the string...Look where you want the arrow to go, she thought, and released the arrow. A inch or so closer to center this time.

  "I think you're gonna do real well," Fauna said, patting Shari on the back. "You just practice for awhile."

  It was about three o'clock when Shari finally retired to the deck to relax on a lounger beside Fauna. She had been practicing for about three hours, stopping only to sip some water occasionally from her travel mug on the ground beside her. As she sat down, she saw Fauna had a sizeable pile of arrows finished. She was putting the ends of the sticks into what looked like a pencil sharpener, then attaching the arrowheads to the sharpened shafts.

  "Damn, how many arrows is that?" Shari asked.

  Fauna looked into the box she was taking the shafts from. "Well, there was three-hundred in here when I started, and now there's about a couple dozen left. Cost a fortune when I bought all these arrows a couple years back. They been sittin' in the shed ever since. Now I'm glad I have 'em." She attached one more arrowhead, set the arrow in the pile, then leaned back into the lounger. "Saw you practicin'. You're doin' real good. I'd say you got a knack for archery, girl."

  Shari nodded. While she had been practicing, she had felt that same disembodied feeling she'd been experiencing lately. Like she was running on autopilot. "At this point, I think it feels pretty natural. But I still don't know how I'd do on a moving target."

  "Lotsa white-tailed deer on this property. We'll go into the woods, see if we see any for you to practice on."

  A week ago, Shari didn't think she'd be able to kill a living deer. After all that had happened, though, she didn't really see the moral dilemma. Practice was practice, after all...at least until some more undead wandered onto the property for her to shoot at.

  "By the way," Fauna said uncomfortably, "I think it's time we burn them bodies we heaped up. Ain't nobody comin' to collect any of the dead. The world as we knew it is gone. I guess it's best we stop bein' in denial of the fact and get on with it."

  Shari nodded. What happened with Mitchell changed her mind, she thought. "Yeah, I guess if we're gonna do it, it'd be better now than when they start to smell
even worse than they already do."

  "Let's walk up there together after we get ourselves somethin' to eat. I don't think we should be on separate sides of the property. Don't seem safe. Strength in numbers, you know?"

  "You're right," Shari said. "Mind if I take this bow with?"

  "Mind? I insist. Might as well get used to havin' it on you," she said. "Let it be a part of you."

  They both started walking north from the garage after lunch. "I want you to keep that bow," Fauna said as they walked. "I guess you should know, uh...it used to be...used to be my daughter's bow when she was still alive."

  Shari snapped her head in Fauna's direction. "Oh, I'm sorry, I...I didn't know..."

  "Of course you didn't, 'cause I didn't say nothin' about her," Fauna said matter-of-factly. "She was fifteen when she died, four years ago. Name was Eveleen. It was a car crash. She was spendin' the night at a friend's house, was on her way back. Her friend, and her friend's mom drivin' the car, they were hurt real bad. But the truck that hit the car, he hit on the passenger side where Eveleen was sittin'. She never saw it comin', from what they told me. Damn truck ran a red light. They said he had to have been doin' over sixty miles an hour." Fauna gazed straight ahead while she talked. "She was a wonderful child, and I ain't sayin' that just 'cause she was mine. Capable and intelligent, and a sweet girl." Fauna turned to look at Shari. "You remind me a lot of her. I guess that's why I've taken such a liking to you. That, and like I told you, it's our responsiblity in times like these to help other human beings in any way we can. Anyway, I want you to have her bow. Use it to keep yourself alive, as I'm sure she would if she were here today."