The Lost Gods - Chapter One (Just a taste)

The Lost Gods 

by Horace Brickley

Author's Note: The following words will be used to refer to the zombie-like creatures in this story.

Reanimate (noun - riːˈænɪmɪt): a formerly dead, cannibalistic hominid. (singular)

Reanimates (noun, plural - riːˈænɪmɪts): see above.

“If you do not open the gate to let me enter,
I will break the door, I will wrench the lock,
I will smash the door-posts, I will force the doors.
I will bring up the dead to eat the living.
And the dead will outnumber the living.”

- Inanna, Sumerian goddess of war and extramarital love.

Jessie

Jessie looked over the barricade at the formerly dead. Each of them was unique in their appearance, but identical in their want. Some had been dead for millenia, and were little more than shreds of mummified skin stretched over dry bones. Those creatures smelled like a wet, rotted tree. It was the newly dead that stunk the worst. Jessie hated the putrescent stench that the recently dead produced; the foul odor hovered and refused to leave. That particular aroma filled his nostrils as he tightened his grip around his Remington shotgun.

“I'll never get used to it,” said Jessie, not to anyone in particular.

“I know, man,” said Adam, “it's like it's never going to go back to normal. These fucking things never go away. They just keep coming and coming, and that sound man... that sound they make, like, 'haaaaaaaaa,' like when old people die in bed in movies... I mean they make more than one sound, but you know what I mean.”

“I meant the smell,” said Jessie as he locked eyes with a bloated reanimate wearing a soiled suit.

“Oh... yeah,” said Adam, “fucking penguins smell the worst.”

“Absolutely,” said Jessie, “I actually like how the old ones smell. It's earthy.”

“You serious?” asked Adam.

“Yeah,” said Jessie.

“They freak me out,” said Adam, “it's like... I can look the other ones in the eye, and I can hope that they understand me. Like they still have feelings, but the old ones, man, I just see death... no compassion.”

“A zombie in a suit will still eat you,” said Jessie.

“Yeah, but he'll do it a lot quicker,” said Adam.

“Getting eaten is getting eaten,” said Jessie.

“I don't think so, man,” said Adam, “I mean... I think drawing it out would make it worse. Gives you time to think about it, and the pain probably doesn't go away. You ever had something sprained or dislocated before?”

“Yeah,” said Jessie, “a couple of times.”

“Then you know some pains don't ease or go away,” said Adam, “I'd be willing to bet getting eaten is one of those types of pain.”

“Here's hoping neither of us find out,” said Jessie.

“I'll drink to that,” said Adam.

“So help me God,” said Jessie, “if you mention alcohol again in my presence I will throw you to those dead fucks.”

“Hey! Fuck you,” said Adam, “I miss it, too. We'll find some soon, and we'll get good and liquored up.”

“Bullshit,” said Jessie, “assuming we do find any alcohol it'll either be spoiled, or it'll be the hard stuff.”

“What's wrong with the hard stuff?” said Adam.

“Never got the taste for it,” said Jessie.

“There's no time like the present,” said Adam.

“I'm pretty sure any time is better than the present,” said Jessie.

“What about the future?” said Adam.

“I'm still hopeful,” said Jessie.

“That makes one of us,” said Adam.

“Nah, you've still got hope,” said Jessie, “you'd have colored a wall with your brains by now if you didn't.”

“Or maybe I'm too big of a pussy to kill myself,” said Adam.

“At least you're an honest pussy,” said Jessie.

“Fuck you,” said Adam.

“Find me some craft beer that hasn't gone sour and I'll give you have a couple quick pumps,” said Jessie with a smirk and few quick clicks of his tongue.

“I knew this would happen,” said Adam.

“What?” asked Jessie.

“One of us would get prison gay,” said Adam.

“Isn't that just regular gay with a change of scenery?” said Jessie.

“No, it's different,” said Adam, “It's like, there's no women around, so dudes fuck other dudes. It's not full gay, because there isn't an alternative.”

“I'm pretty sure their hands are alternatives to man-on-man sex,” said Jessie.

“Sometimes that isn't...,” said Adam, “man, how do we always get to talking about this weird shit all the time?”

“Maybe because we are the only living residents of Earth,” said Jessie, “and everyone that looks human that we run into is actually a walking corpse that wants to eat us.”

“Point taken,” said Adam, “but you'd think we'd find better shit to talk about.”

“Like what?” said Jessie, “art?”

“I'm sure there's something between gay sex and art that we could talk about,” said Adam.

“Some might say that gay sex is an art form,” said Jessie.

“Gays,” said Adam, “I'd imagine.”

“It's not nice to call them 'gays,'” said Jessie.

“My apologies,” said Adam, “we might offend our guests.”

“Speaking of which,” said Jessie. He lifted his shotgun up over the barricade and used the long, black barrel to push back the nearest reanimates. Once the creature staggered back a yard, Jessie squeezed the trigger with the care an artist would move a paintbrush. Such trigger discipline only comes with the amount of practice that a competition shooter, a soldier, or a nomad warrior like Jessie has under their belt. A maddening blast rang out from the shotgun and the chest of suited reanimate caved inward. Scraps of black fabric, coagulated blood, and viscera exploded from the creature. Its torso fell to the side, but its legs remained upright for a moment. It looked like it was lazily stretching, never taking its soupy eyes off of Jessie and Adam. The creature tried to take a step forward and fell onto the asphalt with a hollow thud. It squirmed for a moment, but then it stopped.

“That's one down,” said Adam, “eighty-billion, or so, to go.”

“You say that like you have something better to do,” said Jessie.

“My schedule is actually quite full,” said Adam.

“I hear you,” said Jessie in agreement, “I always pictured the apocalypse having a lighter workload.”

“You were wrong,” said Adam.

“Dead wrong,” deadpanned Jessie, “you see what I did there?”

“Zing!” said Adam.

“Are we going to kill all these guys, or was that just for show?” asked Adam.

“Nah,” said Jessie, “that was my last shell.”

“Seriously?” asked Adam.

“I don't joke about shit like that,” said Jessie.

“Fuck,” said Adam, “I hope your arm is limbered up.”

“It always is,” said Jessie, “I keep my shit on point.”

“What now?” asked Adam.

“Well,” said Jessie, “the noise will bring the nearby ones over to us, and then we'll use the last of the oil and gas to light them on fire.”

“What for?” asked Adam, “that doesn't kill them.”

“I know,” said Jessie, “but I just really like watching them burn. It reminds me of camp.”

“I have no words for how genuinely fucked up that is,” said Adam.

“Then shut your mouth and let me enjoy this,” said Jessie.

“Fine,” said Adam.

“I'm waiting,” said Jessie.

“Dick,” said Adam.

They waited in silence in their small fort made of rebar, corrugated tin roofs, and various jury-rigged fortifications. Over the course of an hour, hundreds of reanimates made their way through the empty city towards the fort. When the leaderless army of supernatural cannibals began to shake and pound the gate with enough force to worry Adam and Jessie, the last two living residents of Silverdale doused the first few rows of reanimates in gas and lamp oil. Jessie struck a match and walked up to an opening in the fortifications. A bloated arm shot through the gap, but the sharp edge of a piece of tin tore off some of the thing's abscessed skin. The arm flailed around, grasping at air. Jessie grabbed it by the wrist with his left hand, and then he pressed the lit match onto its oil-soaked palm. Nothing happened for a brief moment, and then dim flame ran up the dead arm. The unique sound of flammable liquid igniting was followed by a dull flash. Light poured through the gaps in the tin roofing.

“It's a beautiful thing,” said Jessie.

“Your shirt's on fire!” said Adam pointing at Jessie's shoulder.

“Ah, fuck!” said Jessie as he slapped at his shirt. Jessie instinctively fell onto his back and was about to roll around on the asphalt.

“Stop!” said Adam, “You got it, you're good.”

“Heh,” chuckled Jessie, “guess I got a little caught up in the moment.”

They both looked out into the flaming mass. Jessie looked out at the burning creatures. Their skin melted off, and their clothes charred and eventually disappeared into smoke and ash. He was mesmerized by the way the creatures didn't falter or react to the fire. They continued to hammer their burning skin and bones into the fort's walls.

“It's weird how they don't make any noises when they're on fire,” said Adam.

“I don't think they feel pain,” said Jessie, “or recognize that they're kindling.”

“I don't imagine they do,” said Adam.

“Who takes first watch?” asked Jessie.

“I'm not volunteering,” responded Adam, “I'm tired as fuck.”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” asked Jessie.

“On three,” said Adam as he turned towards Jessie and held out his left palm facing towards the twilit sky.

Rock. Rock.

“Again,” said Jessie, “one, two, three!”

Scissors. Rock.

“Ah yeah!” said Jessie, “you lose. I'm going to get some beauty sleep.”

“Best of three,” said Adam.

“Best of this,” said Jessie as he grabbed his crotch.

“Classy, bro,” said Adam.

Jessie backed up from the wall and sauntered with confidence towards the ladder leading up to the tower. Jessie and Adam had built a small tree house in the middle of the fort where they took turns sleeping for four hour blocks of time. Each of two slept like the dead whenever they were in the tree house, because there was comfort in knowing that the creatures could not climb. As Jessie neared the ladder, his right combat boot hit a piece of fishing line at ankle height. Bells clanked loudly and the jarring noise caused Adam to spin around.

“Be careful!” yelled Adam.

“Relax,” said Jessie, “dragged my feet is all. I'll rearm it.”

With that, Jessie knelt down and picked up the line and pulled it over to the small stake where the line had been anchored. He tied it loose around the stake with the care of a watchmaker. The noise traps were set up all around the fort. Trip wires lined the walls, balconies, and the asphalt. The slightest touch would set the traps off. After he was satisfied with the tripwire, Jessie got up and walked to the ladder. He climbed up to the tree house, and ducked into his sleeping bag. He closed his eyes and reached out with his left hand towards the south wall. His fingers met with the cold steel of a bundle of rebar that he had welded together. As his hand slid down, over the ridges of the rebar his nerves calmed. When they reached the leather weave that made up the handle of the rebar cudgel he had created two months ago, he exhaled. His hand returned to the warmth of the sleeping bag and he fell asleep.

…

A tall, sturdy woman stood in the slow, lapping waters of a beach. Her back was facing Jessie, and he could feel the wind stinging his face. Out in the ocean water there was the dazzling glimmer of bio-luminescence. He could see a small space between her muscular thighs; that was one sight that always set his loins aflame. Her long hair appeared as black as midnight under the dim moonlight. The thick strands of hair clung to the damp skin on her back. Jessie stood on the beach behind her wanting to say something to this captivating beauty in front of him. When he opened his mouth to speak, no words came out. He walked towards her, but as he did the beach grew longer and darker. He walked towards her, but with each clumsy step in the sand she grew more and more distant. Still with her back to him, the woman began to speak to him in a language he did not recognize. It was unlike any of the countless mother tongues he had heard on the campus of his school. His stilted walk turned into a jog, as his desire to touch her increased, but the ocean slipped away from the beach. Every step towards her forced her further away than before. Frantic, Jessie tilted forwards and ran at a wild sprint, his legs like pistons and his arms working in synchronicity with them. The woman became obscured and seemed only to float on the horizon of his vision, and beach turned into an endless desert. Jessie's heart pounded and his thigh muscles began to burn. The pale moon turned into a blazing desert sun, and Jessie could feel the scorching heat on his body. His lungs refused to draw in air fast enough, and he could not manage to run any longer. Exasperated, he came to a halt. He looked into the distance and all he saw was a misty silhouette. She had become nothing more than a distant blur. She turned around at a snail's pace, speaking to him all the while. As she rotated towards him, the desert became dark. When her outline had degraded to a distant blur, the desert became pitch black. Jessie tried to call out, but his lungs were empty. The world was darkness. Jessie could feel hot breath on his neck. He tried to turn towards the source, but he was held in place.

“Apotheosis,” the woman whispered into his ear.

Bells rang out.

…

“They've broken through the back wall!” yelled Adam.

Jessie shot up out of bed and grabbed his cudgel. He looked out the north window and spotted the breach in the wall.

“What the fuck?” yelled Jessie.

“I fell asleep!” yelled Adam.

“No shit,” said Jessie.

“I'm sorry man,” said Adam moving towards the north wall with his ax. Four reanimates had broken through the wall and were trying squeeze past each other in competition for warm meat. Adam picked his target, a fat male with mortuary rouge on his mustachioed face and a tacky blue and yellow plaid suit, and he cocked his ax diagonally above his left shoulder. He twisted his body and threw his left shoulder down and to the right, and he swung the ax diagonally towards the creature's hip.

“Ruh!” Adam grunted, trying to give extra power to his swing.

The dull blade of the ax met with the fat reanimate's hip bone and shattered it. The creature folded up like a book and let out a breathy sigh. Adam lost his footing and went down on one knee. The three other creatures hastened their gait and bore down on Adam. He swung his ax upward as he threw himself back to his feet, and he managed to catch the leader of the pack under the jaw. Its jawbone split in half and its face was divided into two worthless parts in an instant. The blow sent the reanimate and Adam backwards, away from one another. Jessie made his way down the tree house's ladder with haste. When he reached the asphalt, he ran over to Adam and jumped over him. Jessie blasted the two standing creatures with quick swings of his rebar cudgel. Each powerful blow brought enough force to send them to the pavement. His cudgel raised above his head, Jessie set his sights on one of the fallen reanimates, but something grabbed his ankle. Jessie fell forward, and the fat creature, twisted in a sickening fashion, pulled Jessie's ankle towards its mouth. Before it could sink its teeth into his unprotected ankle, Jessie yanked his ankle out of the creature's grasp and kicked wildly at its face. Jessie grabbed his cudgel and turned his body at an angle where he could make a decent swing at the disabled reanimate, but as he cocked his arm back he felt cold hands grab his tensed arm. He looked up and saw the open mouth of what could have been a gunfighter or lawman in the pioneer days of 19th century America. A fifth creature had made it through the breach in the north wall during the melee.

“Aaah!” Jessie screamed. The creature had a firm hold on his arm. Jessie used his free hand to lock onto the creatures throat. It pushed and twisted against Jessie's grip, trying to get as close to Jessie as it could. Its jaw dropped in anticipation of warm flesh, unleashing the stench of rotted teeth and innards into the air. Jessie responded with a grunt and clenched his hand as hard as he could, and he pushed his feet into the asphalt to gain leverage. As he pushed against the ground with his toes, trying to get up, the fat reanimate grabbed his ankle again. Jessie looked back in terror, as the portly creature pulled his foot towards its mouth.

“Oh fuck,” said Jessie wide-eyed with fear. Then, the top half of the pale, round face of the hungry creature was severed, just above the upper lip, by Adam's ax. Jessie flipped his head back around and saw that the creature in front of him was trying to angle its neck, so that it could bite Jessie's wrist. Before it could clamp down, Jessie let go of its neck and then grabbed the top of the creature's head with mercurial speed. He brought its head down into the asphalt with all his might. The creatures skull popped open like an egg, and its putrescent brain matter and odious mucus shot out of the cracks of the now-destroyed skull. Jessie immediately retched, and he lifted himself off of the asphalt. He got up and staggered towards the east wall and began dry heaving. Adam, satisfied that the situation was momentarily contained, ran over to the breached wall and began pushing against the bent tin roofing.

“Can I get some help over here?” asked Adam. Jessie spit and walked over towards Adam, continuing to retch as he walked.

“Push!” yelled Adam. They pushed in unison, and after a few strong pushes the roofing bent back enough to cover the breach. After a few moments, Jessie stopped retching and regained himself. They leaned against the makeshift wall for a few minutes, breathing deeply and looking around for signs of trouble.

“This isn't going to hold,” said Jessie.

“It didn't hold the first time,” said Adam.

“And who is to blame for that?” asked Jessie, although he had made up his mind already.

“Both of us,” said Adam.

“You fell asleep,” said Jessie, his eyes wild with anger, “when you were supposed to be on watch.”

“Yeah, but,” said Adam, “you were the one that said that this fort was going to be good enough to hold them off.”

“It is!” said Jessie, “It has held them off for three goddamn months, so long as the watchman doesn't fall asleep on the job!”

“We should have just kept moving, like I suggested,” said Adam.

“To where?” asked Jessie, “Seabeck? Dewato? Bremerton? You tell me how that would help?”

“Seabeck and Dewato are more isolated,” said Adam, “and Bremerton would have more supplies.”

“And more fucking zombies,” said Jessie, “except those zombies would be popping up out of nowhere. We'd be in the damned forest in Seabeck or Dewato with enough fog to keep us chilled to the bone, and in Bremerton they'd be popping up out of the water every couple minutes. That's what the reporters were saying before the cities were completely overrun and the broadcasts quit coming.”

“We could live in the ferry terminal,” said Adam, “and we could go by boat to Seattle or wherever to get food and whatnot.”

“Are you shitting me?” said Jessie, “Assuming we don't die on the way to Bremerton, or that it isn't still overrun by tens of thousands of zombies, then the zombies from Seattle would eventually make it to us and eat us.”

“We survived this long,” said Adam, “What makes you think we'd die so easily?”

“We almost died right now,” said Jessie, “in a town we have basically cleared of zombies. There's no way that we'd survive Bremerton or Seattle, and if we went into the forest we'd probably die during the winter even if another zombie never crossed our path. Face it, were stuck here until we die, or until the situation becomes completely untenable.”

“I don't want to die in Silverdale,” said Adam, “I mean, I grew up here, and I sure as fuck don't want to die here.”

“What difference does it make where you die?” asked Jessie.

“It matters to me,” said Adam, “alright?”

“I spent a month making this fort,” said Jessie, “and you spent a month watching my ass while I made this fort. I'm not going to abandon it so quickly. We can make it stronger, and then something like this won't happen again.”

“We're sleep deprived,” said Adam, “this is going to keep happening. I'm so tired that I could fall asleep in the middle of this argument.”

“You think we wouldn't be sleep deprived if were on the move?” asked Jessie.

“Not if we were someplace safe,” said Adam.

“Where?!” yelled Jessie, “Where is it fucking safe? There are zombies everywhere. Billions of them! Not hundreds, or thousands, or millions, but goddamn billions of them! Everyone that has ever died is after us and everything else that has warm blood and meat. We're going to fucking die, but I'd rather not die ASAP. Believe it or not, I'd rather be alive than dead, especially since the chief cause of death these days is getting eaten!”

“Alright!” yelled Adam, “Fuck! OK! I get it. We're not going to Bremerton, or anywhere else. We are going to die in Silverdale, because the mighty Jessie thinks here's as good a place as anywhere else.”

“Where else would you like to die, Adam?” asked Jessie through his teeth.

“I'm not telling you,” said Adam, as he turned away.

“Seriously,” said Jessie, “where?”

“No,” said Adam, “I'm not going to tell you. You're just going to be a dick about it.”

“Just tell me,” said Jessie.

“San Diego,” said Adam under his breath.

“Where?” asked Jessie as he walked towards Adam.

“San Diego,” Adam repeated.

“California,” said Jessie, “and not even northern California, but southern California. 1,200 miles away... an entire day's car ride... and we are on foot. How do you propose we get to San Diego?”

“We could go by boat,” said Adam.

“By boat,” said Jessie, “OK, Captain Adam where are we going to find a boat?”

“Bremerton,” said Adam.

“You're lucky you saved my life today,” said Jessie, “otherwise I'd leave your dumb ass to fend for yourself.”

“Yeah, I did save your life,” said Adam, “the least you could do is say thank you.”

“Normally, I would,” said Jessie, “but you also put us in danger by taking a nap on the job. The job where you keep us alive.”

“Whatever man,” said Adam, “it's your watch now.”

“No,” said Jessie.

“What?” said Adam.

“You didn't finish your watch,” said Jessie, “so you are going to finish it now. Then, you are going to help me fix that wall. I suggest you take your watch on the north balcony.”

“Man, that's...” said Adam.

“Not another word,” interrupted Jessie, “you fucked up today, so you get the punishment. You may have prevented me from getting eaten by Wyatt fucking Earp, but he wouldn't have gotten into our little fort here, if it wasn't for your narcoleptic ass taking a nap.”

“Fine,” said Adam, “maybe next time I'll be a little slower with the ax.”

“Then you'll never get to sleep peacefully again,” said Jessie, “take your lashes and think about what happened today.”

“Yeah,” said Adam, “thanks, dad.”

“If I was your dad,” said Jessie, as he grabbed onto the wooden ladder, “I'd have drown you at birth.”

He climbed up to the top of the tree house. Adam cursed to himself and picked up his ax, which now had a sizable chip in the already dull blade from hitting the asphalt.

“Tomorrow,” said Jessie out of the tree house's window, “we throw out those bodies. So, you might want to make sure they are completely dead.”

Adam tensed his lips in anger, but he obeyed the command and walked over to the fallen creatures. None of them stirred, so he prodded at each with the ax blade. All of them had reached final death. Adam climbed up to the balcony of the north wall, and he looked out into the parking lot of the once-popular Silverdale mall.

I used to get hand-jobs in this parking lot, thought Adam as he stared at the aimless, charred creatures that they had lit on fire yesterday. They still tried to bash at the walls, but there was little force behind their swinging arms. Adam wondered what powered their arms, since the muscle had been burnt down to useless strands of black fiber.