Surviving When the Dead Have Risen Read online

  Then I felt something lightly brush over my nose and heard another burst of high-pitched giggles. I let my eyes flutter open slowly.

  Lawrence was standing over me with a feather duster and slowly moving it toward my nose. The giggling got louder, and I turned to see Christina jumping around nearby.

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Lawrence exclaimed.

  “Sleeping beauty is my favorite princess!” Christina squealed. “Her real name is Aurora!”

  I sat up and looked around the room. A couple of bowls sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.

  “Mommy always said no eating in the living room, but Lawrence said it’d be okay!” The little girl sang out as she continued to dance.

  “Now we just need some room to sit,” Lawrence said, nodding toward me.

  I rolled of the couch. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way of your breakfast.”

  The gun stuck out from between the cushions of the couch where I had wedged it. I pushed it back into my waistband and tried to act as if having a gun there seemed completely natural.

  Taylor sat in front of the television, flipping through channels.

  “Anything good on TV?” I asked as I moved next to him.

  He jumped as if startled and answered, “Nah, just a bunch of snow and a couple of those preacher guys.”

  “Did you get some sleep?” I asked.

  “Yeah, a little. I got up with Christina for a while when she kept crying for her mom,” he looked as if he wanted to say more but stopped.

  “Are you holding up okay? I realize it’s kind of a stupid question but--”

  “So do you think those guys are right?” Taylor broke in. “I mean, do you believe this is the end of the world?”

  I looked at his expression and realized that my response was very important to him. “Are you serious? You’re not really listening to those nutcases, are you?” I punched him lightly on the shoulder.

  Taylor grinned even as he looked embarrassed. “No…uh…I guess not, but the dude looked so sure about what the stuff he’s saying. I mean… he read this stuff out of the Bible, and it sure sounded like it proved what he everything he said.”

  “Fuck that guy!” I surprised myself with the exclamation but not as much as Taylor whose mouth dropped open. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say that, but those religious nuts hurt a lot of people. They can make the Bible say anything they want.” I looked at him for a moment before continuing, “I’m not sure whether you’re a church-goer or not, and I don’t want to offend you.” He shook his head. “Anyway, just use your brain. You’re a smart guy. When did they write the Bible? At least five or six hundred years ago, right? Has anything changed in that time?” We both snickered a little at the question. “It seems pretty ridiculous that we should follow some ideas written at a time when people thought they live in a flat world, giant serpents guarded the seas, evil spirits caused illnesses, and the sun disappeared at night. We have come a long way since those dark days. Science shows us there is a reason and logic to things that happen. We don’t have to rely on myths and fantasy. No more evil spirits and witchcraft. These days, we have science and critical thought. There is an explanation to the workings of nature and the human body. We no longer need to rely on faith that some invisible being oversees everything and keeps it in order. But there are those who want to keep the old ways of things. These people want to deny the logic of science and those who look beyond the explanations of yesterday. Fear is the primary tool of those who wish to stay stuck in the past. They invoke the writings of the old age to try to explain things that they don’t understand and thus show the relevance of the old ways.” I suddenly realized that I had gone off on a wild rant. Taylor was staring confusingly at me. “Sorry, but I don’t think you should listen to those guys.”

  I walked away quickly. I sensed the eyes of the others looking as I hurried into the bathroom. Once at the basin, I splashed cold water on my face. The eyes looking at me in the mirror were bloodshot and wild. I wondered how I had gone so quickly from being well rested to this disorientation and exhaustion. Without thinking much more, I stripped out of my dirty clothes, set the gun on the counter, and stepped into the shower. The hot water instantly relaxed me, and I forgot everything outside of the stream hitting my face. This might have lasted for five minutes or five hours. I have no idea.

  The knocking on the door broke me out of my meditation.

  Lawrence yelled, “Hey, are you okay in there?”

  I shut off the water. “Yes, I’m fine,” I answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Why?”

  “Well, you’ve been in there for almost an hour!” He shouted through the door.

  The statement made me dizzy. Apparently, the vertigo and lapses in consciousness I had experienced over the last few days had not ended as I had thought. I steadied myself on the cool tile wall of the shower and hoped with all my might that my flimsy grasp on reality could be maintained. After a moment, I stepped slowly from the tub. I grabbed a big green towel off the bar on the wall. As weird as it might seem given everything going on, the softness of the towel made me smile, and I felt pretty good. The dirty clothes were stiff and uncomfortable, especially with the gun again stuck in the waistband.

  I pulled open the door to find the anxious expressions on the faces of Taylor and Lawrence.

  “Damn! We thought you passed out in there or something,” Taylor said.

  “You okay?” The detective asked.

  I raised my hand to show wrinkled fingers. “Just a little water-logged. That was the first shower I’ve had in…” I paused trying to remember my last shower but could not. “The first shower since I can’t remember. You two ought to be happy since I smell a lot better now.”

  “I sure am!” The boy laughed.

  After a moment, Lawrence laughed as well and said, “You can count me in on that too!”

  A sudden wave of anxiety broke in and made me ask, “Where’s Christina?”

  Lawrence grinned and said, “Oh, the little princess is right this way.” He made a majestic sweep of his hand to show me the way.

  The little girl had dressed in some sort of long light blue satin robe, sitting on the floor in front of the television with its snow-filled screen. She was supplying a variety of voices for the assortment of dolls, stuffed animals, and action figures scattered around her.

  “Mister Teddy, you must guard the door to the palace!” A large naked baby with short red hair shouted in a high pitch as it bounced up and down near the stuffed bear.

  After a moment in which Christina shifted her position and took hold of the teddy bear, Mister Teddy replied in a very deep voice, “Ginger, you can count on me!”

  The sight of her playing just as any child would gave me hope that she would be okay despite everything she had seen.

  As if reading my thoughts, Lawrence said, “Yeah, she seems to be doing okay. Guess she’s a lot tougher than she looks.”

  “Or else she’s just holding it all inside until it bursts out,” I had not intended to say the words aloud.

  Lawrence considered what I said a moment before answering, “Well, I’m not much for helping anyone get in touch with their feelings, so all we can do is keep her safe until...uh…until whatever.”

  I shared his doubts about any notion of a future but could not find anything to gain by getting into a discussion. Instead, I changed the subject by asking, “So how should we go about this? Do you want Taylor to stay here with Christina while you and I check out the rest of the building? Or would you rather stay here?”

  He surprised me with a chuckle. “Well, to be honest, I would rather stay here, but I need to go with you.” He stopped and looked at me as if trying to decide whether to say more. Then he asked gruffly, “Why the question? Are you thinking I’m too old, slow, and fat to back you up?”

  “No, it’s not that. I just wanted to make sure your health…make sure you are okay,” I said, suddenly sounding apologetic.

  A long la
ugh exploded from the big cop. “I’m just bustin’ your chops, Turner. Sure, I can’t move as quick as Taylor but don’t worry about me. I can get the job done.” He stepped closer to me and lowered his voice. “Besides, I bet the kid could use some more time for himself. Christ, he’s seen so much bad stuff already...even before today. He’s not as tough as he tries to act.”

  I nodded. “Okay, it’s you and me.”

  Taylor walked in from the kitchen and asked, “It’s you and me for what?”

  “Time to go check this place out,” I answered.

  He smiled weakly and said, “Okay, I made some sandwiches for us. I can’t make any promises about how good--”

  Lawrence interrupted him by saying, “No, we need you to stay here. Turner… Kevin…Mr. Turner and I can handle whatever we find out there. What we really need is for someone to stay here and protect Christina.” He looked at Taylor whose expression lay somewhere between frustration at being stopped from helping and joy at being spared from having to go outside the apartment. “I’m sure that you’re man enough to go with us, but I trust you to keep her safe.”

  “Okay, I’ll get the sandwiches,” Taylor said as he turned and went into the kitchen.

  Lawrence and I exchanged expressions of amusement. “I guess you made the--”

  Christina’s shout interrupted me. “That’s my mommy!”

  Taylor, Lawrence, and I moved immediately to the living room. It was the first time I even noticed the glass doors leading outside. The previously closed curtains had now been pulled open, and the glass door opened wide, letting in cool air and the odor of something burning.

  Although the front of the building was at street level, the back rested on a cliff, the result being a balcony rather than a patio.

  Christina was standing on a white plastic chair looking over the railing to the street below. “That’s my mommy! But where’s Bobby?”

  “Honey, you need to come inside,” Lawrence said as he moved next to her.

  We looked down to the street to see a lone figure dressed in what appeared to be a light blue bathrobe.

  “But, Lawrence, that’s my mommy down there. She took my new brother Bobby with her, but I can’t find him. She’s sick and needs you to help her…just like you helped me.” She turned to throw herself into the cop’s big stomach.

  Under different circumstances, the completely uncomfortable look on the detective’s face as the little girl pressed into him might have been amusing. Under these circumstances, I found nothing amusing. His eyes looked to me as if pleading for rescue.

  “Christina, guess what?” I asked, trying to get the girl’s attention.

  “What?” she asked through sniffles.

  “Well, Lawrence and I are just about to go outside to help your mommy.”

  She smiled and looked back at Lawrence who looked about ready to cry himself. “Thank you so much!” She shouted and hugged the big cop again.

  “The thing is we need you to stay here with Taylor, okay? He knows lots of fun games for you to play.” I looked at the boy who had begun trying to come up with any fun games.

  The sound of gun fire exploded from a few blocks away. I suddenly had the picture of Christina’s mother being riddled with bullets as Christina watched from the balcony.

  “But before you can play any of Taylor’s wonderful games, I need you to make a promise, okay?” I said, trying to keep my voice light and full of fun.

  “What sort of promise?” She asked.

  “It’s a very special, magic promise,” I paused as she moved closer to me and smiled. “This promise will protect you and give you magic powers.”

  “Will I be like the fairy princess?”

  “If you want to be, you can be the fairy princess. But I need you to promise that you will not go out on the balcony while we’re gone.”

  Christina’s face scrunched up as she put some effort into her answer. “But I can’t look at Mommy unless I got out there.”

  “Oh, so you don’t want to be a fairy princess?” Lawrence asked.

  “Okay, I promise!”

  I leaned down toward her and said, “Okay, why don’t you go get some toys to put in the bathtub with you, so that you can take a bath before we get back.”

  She was quiet for a moment before saying, “Well. I don’t usually take a bath in the morning but okay. I have a plan exackly who I am taking in the tub with me!”

  Christina ran to her bedroom, leaving me with my confused companions.

  “What the hell was all that promise bullshit about?” Lawrence asked as soon as she moved out of earshot.

  “And what makes you think I know a bunch of cool games?” Taylor asked.

  “The last thing we need is for Christina to be out on that balcony to watch her mom get ripped apart by bullets, and Taylor, I’m sure you can come up with some games to keep her mind off of all that shit that’s going on.” I looked over to see both of them nodding in agreement. “See, could be I’m not crazy after all.”

  “Well, I’d hafta say the jury’s still out on that one,” Lawrence muttered, and we all laughed.

  I took the bag of sandwiches from Taylor and turned toward the door.

  Behind me, Lawrence said, “I’m sure you’ll take good care of her.”

  “Anyway, you’ll be back soon, right?” The boy sounded as if forcing optimism into his voice.

  Lawrence did not answer but stood quietly next to me to listen for any sound from the hallway. Hearing nothing, I slowly unlocked and opened the door. The squeak of the hinges echoed down the empty hall.

  We both stepped through the doorway. The big cop turned back to shut the door and found Taylor already pulling it closed.

  “You listen for any sound, okay? You catch sight or sound of anything, get Christina into her room with the door barricaded.” Lawrence commanded with-out waiting for an answer.

  Once again, the two of us stood in the hallway swallowed by a silence that did not calm. We looked toward the motionless bodies at the foot of the stairs.

  After a moment, I asked, “Okay, we got a lot of area to cover. Where do you think we should start?”

  Lawrence simply walked over to the door from where the scratching sound had been coming the previous day. He stood in front of the door as if deciding what to do next. Finally, he turned his head and pressed his ear to the door. This lasted for about ten seconds. Suddenly, he pushed back from the door and reached for the knob. He glanced over his shoulder to find me standing a couple of yards behind him with my gun aimed at the door. We made eye contact, and he nodded slowly.

  His hand twisted the doorknob, and he pulled. The door rattled but did not open. Lawrence pulled again, but the door would not budge.

  “The deadbolt must be locked,” I offered quietly.

  The detective gave me one of those expressions that you get after stating the obvious. “Be ready,” he said an instant before launching his shoulder into the door.

  There came the crackling of wood splitting, but the door did not open. Lawrence straightened himself and looked at the door. I charged by him and threw myself into the door. What happened next was straight out of some old slapstick comedy. Expecting resistance, I put all my weight into hitting the door. However, the door had been only slightly stuck. The result was that I basically charge right through the doorway and into the apartment. My momentum nearly carried me over the body. Unfortunately, my foot got stuck between the legs, spilling me onto the floor.

  The whole thing happened so quickly that I just lay stunned next to the body for a few moments. I looked over into the glassy dead eyes of an old woman. She lie on her stomach and wearing nothing but a bra and panties. I was still staring as Lawrence moved into the room with his gun pointed at the body. I rolled away from the body and expected to hear some movement behind me.

  As strange as it may seem, the lack of movement from an apparently dead body shocked the hell out of me.

  After a minute, Lawrence seemed satisfied that the th
ing was not going to move and lowered his gun. He then moved over to me and offered me a hand, which I took.

  We both stood over the motionless body, staring without speaking.

  Finally, I said, “I don’t see any wounds, do you?”

  Lawrence shook his head. “No, I don’t see nothing but a poor old lady. Not even any blood.” He moved the body slightly to examine the front. After a moment, he returned the body to its original position. He had clearly gone into his detective state of mind. “We oughta check out the rest of the apartment.”

  The place was immaculate. In fact, it very well could have been used as a model for selling apartments by real estate agents. I looked at the nearly-naked body on the floor and wondered how she had kept the place so clean.

  Lawrence did not appear to be in the grip of such questions as he moved from room to room with his gun raised in front of him. I followed him into a bedroom off the kitchen. The bed was unmade, and a pile of woman’s clothes lie on the floor beside it. But what I saw near the head of the bed that took my breath away.

  The wheelchair had several cushions arranged around the seat and back support. It was obvious that someone had taken care to make the chair as comfortable as possible.

  “You don’t know--” I stopped speaking when I realized that I was alone in the room.

  I found Lawrence near the entrance of the apartment, looking carefully at the bottom of the door. I moved next to him to see exactly what held his interest.

  It became immediately clear what the detective found so interesting. About two feet from the bottom of the door, there was a number of scratch marks. They were not deep and straight like marks made from a screwdriver or a knife. These looked to have been the work of someone frantically attacking the area.

  Lawrence stepped over to the body, stooped down, and lifted one of the arms. He moved until the hand rested in his own.

  Several of the fingernails appeared to have been worn down to nothing, and some of the fingers looked almost shredded.

  He gently set the hand down and stood. The detective had a look of satisfaction on his face, and his faraway look made it clear that he had gotten caught up in picturing the scene.