Chapter Twenty Five
“Under no circumstance should HBRS ever be used on a living subject.”
“Why is that?”
“Because a person cannot truly have been resurrected unless they have first died, and that is what this system is designed to bring.”
–Dr Ava Sherman. Manchester, New Hampshire. 3 Years Before.
* * *
So hungry. So tired.
Leah couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this drained. She couldn’t remember a lot of things, lately. No matter how much she ate, she couldn’t patch the holes in her Rez fast enough.
Not that they were getting much better than squirrels and rabbits out here. Liam had been using the other hunting rifle they’d stashed, but he still was only awake for sixteen hours a day at most, and had neither the time nor the energy to hunt on top of traveling. That left the others to do the grunt work, and rifles weren’t the most reliable when a half-hollowed mind was handling them.
Worse yet, Leah’s weakness was starting to affect the others. Kurt rationed out anything they’d found, and given her the largest slice when it should’ve gone to him. Mastermind had barely been eating altogether. Now the color in their eyes was starting to fade as well, and the stutters wouldn’t be far behind. If they started needing assistance too, there’d be no one left to give it. Liam could only accomplish so much with his vulnerable, living frame.
There was no way out of it. Leah needed food. Real food.
That was what made this find so great. Nestled in a vale between two hills, a farmhouse sat at the edge of sight. The grass had been flattened into a verdant sheet, and the barn looked like it’d been coated in a fresh paint of scarlet. Even the fencing seemed to still be intact, with a herd of cattle walloping within. This place was an oasis in a desert, just waiting to be exploited.
If they fought for it.
“No way that could be empty, yeah?” Liam asked.
Leah shook her head.
“This one of yours?”
Again, she shook her head. Leah had avoided speaking unless necessary. The words would form correctly in her mind, but the neural connection to her vocal chords had degraded, and so some would inevitably come out stuttered. It was the cruelest form of torture. There was no way of knowing or preparing for which word would malfunction, making all speech awkward and inconsistent. Some of the poorer workers became acclimated, but Leah would never get used to feeling so broken.
Liam stroked his chin. “A place like this wouldn’t be bad to set up shop. If it’s not tied to Pandemonium, then it could be another survivor.”
Not this shit again. Would Liam ever get this delusion out of his head? How many more bodies would he have to see to know the truth?
“Unlikely,” Mastermind explained. “A single stray dreg would make short work of any humans here. The isolated location and favorable terrain would not compensate for the lack of defenses.”
“Then what do you think, mate?”
Before Mastermind could answer, someone wandered out of the barn. They were in the shape of a male, with a pair of overalls above a plaid shirt, covered in dung. The rifle strung behind his back was to be expected, but the gas mask was an interesting touch. As the group lay hidden in brush nearby, he began to walk back to the farmhouse, carrying a set of buckets.
“Looks human enough to me,” Liam said.
“We should form a plan,” Mastermind said.
“Already got one.”
He shifted out of cover before Leah could hold him back. What the fuck are you doing!?
“Just follow my lead,” he said before stepping into the open. “Oy!”
The farmer immediately dropped the buckets and drew his rifle. “Who’s there!?” The voice was distorted below the mask.
“It’s okay,” Liam said, hands raised. “We mean you no harm.” He glanced back to the rest of them. “Come out. Let’s not make a bad first impression.”
Leah rolled her eyes and stepped into view. In the span of a minute, they’d gone from having the element of surprise to staring down the barrel of a gun as it was pointed against the most valuable man to ever walk the earth. She really regretted letting Liam call the shots.
The farmer began to wave his rifle about. “Don’t step closer. We don’t want trouble!”
Liam smiled. “Neither do we. We’re just looking for a place to rest, if you don’t mind.” The farmer stayed fixed, and Liam tilted his head. “Come on. If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it from the safety of that bush, yeah?”
The farmer lowered his gun an inch. “You alive?”
“I am.”
Leah shifted one of her hands closer to her jacket. If this guy was about to try anything, she’d have her gun drawn before him.
But the farmer just withdrew his rifle altogether. “Holy Mackerel! Been a long time since I’ve seen this.” He bobbed his head about, as if they were expected company that he’d forgotten. “Crap. We should get my mom. She’ll know what to do. Quick, follow me!”
The farmer thrust his rifle over his shoulder again and started to scurry for the house. The others followed.
As they crossed the open pasture, Leah closed in on Liam. “Let me g-get this straight. Your brilliant plan w-was to just walk up and ask n-n-not to get shot?”
He shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”
She massaged the migraine from her scalp. “I think I hate you.”
“Don’t worry. I think it’s fair to say that anyone who doesn’t shoot us on sight is worlds nicer than what we’ll find out there.”
“Might we see your face and catch your name, my good friend?” Mastermind called out.
The farmer paused. “Right, almost forgot about this thing. Sorry, I just hate the smell of manure.”
He started to fidget with his mask before giving up and going for his gloves. Liam beamed at the sight of his exposed hands. They were smooth and colorful without the slightest ounce of rot. As the last buckles of the gas mask slipped free, Liam leaned forth, expecting to meet another of his kin.
…Only to watch his dream die again. The ‘farmer’ had hollowed in his teenage years, and though his skin was well-maintained and hair a vibrant orange, there was no denying the blackened gums and violet, beating eyes of a rezzer.
“Name’s Eric,” he said, holding out a hand. “Eric Clark.”
He looked to Liam first, but he was paralyzed in disappointment, so Leah stepped forth and shook his hand instead. “I’m Leah, and this is Mastermind, Kurt, and Liam.”
Eric Clark studied their party anew. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen live ones wandering out with us blackbloods.”
‘Blackbloods’. Wonder how many back home would’ve sprung for that. “We’re just p-p-passing through.”
“Got the stutters, huh? Don’t worry. Mom’ll whip up somethin’ for that.”
“Get many visitors?” Mastermind asked, still maintaining the faux innocence as he fished for information.
He shook his head. “Nope. Not unless you count rotters.”
“Of course not. Only us blackbloods matter anymore. That is why it is important that we stick together.”
“Heh, can’t say I disagree. Good company’s the only thing keeping you from rotting out. I’m just glad I’ve got my family.”
“Oh? You have a family? How marvelous!”
“Yessir. Just been the three of us, actually. Me, Mom, and Dad. Speaking of…” He thrust open the door. “Mom! We got company!”
They stepped indoors and outside time. The oaken walls were freshly varnished, and the carpeted floors were free from stains. The curtains were drawn and windows open, letting the cool mountain air flow free. The walls were littered with all sorts of trinkets, from stuffed deer to framed pics to old clocks. It reminded Leah of the way houses used to look, early in the outbreak and before time had eroded them all away.
“Mom” met them in the living room. There was no denying the physical similarities between her and Eric, but she was a rezzer like them, with the same violet eyes and pale, undead skin. She grinned through black lips when they approached.
“Told you there were still more of us,” Eric said.
“Well I’ll be damned.” She took a step closer to Liam and stared in his eyes. “And this one’s still got a heartbeat too.”
Leah interposed herself between the two. “Careful.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name is Barbara, and I promise to not let him get too close.”
“Don’t worry so much, Leah,” Liam said. “Barbara here doesn’t look like the biting type. Isn’t that right?”
She chuckled. “Not for you, dear. Life’s a precious thing these days.” She waved them further in. “Come on in and make yourselves comfortable. We don’t let the end of the world get in the way of good manners around here.”
The crew found a place to put their baggage while Barbara got them food. Liam made a show of putting his weapons away, and the others complied to some degree, but Leah kept her suppressed M1911 hidden in her jacket, along with her black steel combat knife. Mastermind did the same for his Bowie. They weren’t about to be blindsided.
Barbara managed the kitchen while the rest waited. She even went the lengths of cooking up a steak for Liam, in spite of Leah’s initial protests. To her credit, it was impressive how effectively Barbara prepared a meal for Liam safely. She wore gloves and a mask throughout the process, and sterilized all her utensils between use. Barbara moved meticulously from start to finish, and by the end, Leah suspected that she’d done this thousands of times before.
“Hope you don’t mind the smell,” she said to Liam as everyone gathered for a meal together. “Though I’m guessing this isn’t the first blackblood dinner you’ve attended.”
Leah gave her own plate a whiff. Not bad. Bloodied beef with raw egg, heavily spiced, with a slice of cow’s brain on the side, coated in sauce. The Hunger burned anew, and for the first time in weeks, she wouldn’t be forced to ignore it completely.
“Hold on,” Barbara said. “We have to say grace.” She put her hands on the table and knelt her head.
The others played along, save for Kurt, who nervously glanced to Leah for answers until she gave him the nod of approval. It wasn’t surprising. With Buttercup gone, Kurt was the youngest, and never cared much for old world traditions. This must have been quite a sight for him.
“Blessed be our Lord, and this, thy meal…” Barbara began.
Gotta love Enclaves. Nothing prevented a dreg from becoming a rezzer on their own, and Pandemonium’s Hunters could only explore so much of the world. When more than one rezzer came about, they’d form their own little Enclaves, beholden to none but themselves. The rules and the lingo were always different, but the pressure of hollowing was always the same. Normal protocol for finding an Enclave was to incorporate them into Pandemonium’s greater network. Most complied without issue, though sometimes a contract had to be put out, and the Hunters rolled in. Leah had sat at more than her fair share of these gatherings, with all the bullshit strings that came with them.
“…And this, thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen.”
For a moment, Leah considered asking that she sit alone. She didn’t like having so many strangers in a room with her Mark exposed. But “formalities” were a thing here apparently, and she suspected that she’d only add to her problems by calling attention to them. So instead, she undid her scarf until it hung loose, and slipped the meat beneath. Whether their hosts noticed or cared, they didn’t say.
Most of the attention seemed to focus on Liam anyway. Much to Leah’s chagrin, he was quick to tell them about his plane crash, and how he’d avoided the Hollowing, and his journey back to the States, only to discover what had happened. He told them about their plan to develop a cure, though he fortunately had enough sense to avoid mentioning all the trigger-happy mercs chasing them down.
Leah did her best to avoid making eye contact with anyone, lest they catch sight of her rising discontent, but then she had the misfortune of staring at Liam’s canteen instead. In the dim light of the house, it almost seemed to wink arrogantly. “Life is good.” What a fucking joke. Did he really need to carry that damn thing everywhere?
“Trapped on an island,” Barbara said when Liam finished. “Just like that movie… What was it?”
“Cast Away, Mom,” Eric answered.
Liam frowned. “How the hell has everyone seen that damned film?”
Barbara smiled meekly. “To be honest, I haven’t. Not in this life, anyway. Just read the DVD a bunch.”
This life, Leah thought. “How m-m-much of your old life do you remember?”
“Not much. I mean, I can remember how I feel about things. Like smells and colors, and being around the house. And when I look at pictures with my husband, it all makes sense, like we were meant to be.” She paused.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Eric said. “We’ll get it all back, one day. Just think of how long it took to get us talking again.”
“Got anymore brains?” Kurt asked after swallowing his sliver. “We’ve been hurting lately.”
Barbara frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t do much better, hun. We need to save what we can for Steven.”
Mastermind beamed. “Where is your husband anyway, Mrs Clark? I’d love to meet him.”
“Right, I almost forgot. Could someone do me a favor, and help to bring his meal?”
“I’ll do it,” Leah said. Mastermind had done enough scouting on his own.
The two left together, with Barbara carrying keys, and Leah holding a plate with the lion’s share of brains from the cow they’d recently slaughtered. Oh, how desperately she wanted to gorge herself on the morsels. Even after a full meal, the Hunger never truly lessened.
They left the comfort of the house and trekked across the pasture. Dusk had started to fall, with the sun casting fleeting rays across the vale and onto a distant shed.
“If only you’d come here before,” Barbara said. “Steven would’ve greeted you himself. He was always better at this. Don’t get me wrong, we try our best, but if it wasn’t for him, we would’ve never learned about who we are.”
Moans spilled out from the shed as they came near.
Hollow moans.
Barbara grimaced. “I apologize, but he’s been regressing again.”
She unlocked the door, and a claw swung out. Leah withdrew a step and studied the creature inside. “Steven” was definitely a hollow, with its eyes white and empty, and teeth that clattered without thought.
“It was my fault,” Barbara said. “Steven had put in so much work to bring the two of us back, and one day, I slipped up.” She blinked through a tear. “One mistake. That’s all it took.”
She placed the plate on the ground. The hollow scooped it up and started munching.
“How l-long has he been this w-way?” Leah asked.
“I don’t know. Four years? Six? It’s hard to say. Some days he does better than others and responds to his name, but we’ve never gotten him talking again.”
“And you’ve been feeding h-him this whole time, even when your own m-mind suffers.”
She sighed. “When we have enough of a haul, he gets strong enough to work the field again. He’s a stubborn one though. His mind rots faster than ours, and we only have so much food to go around.”
Leah watched the miserable creature in front. Of course there was no magic here, nor any silver bullet to use against the Hollowing. Only a couple rezzers in denial.
“Let’s get b-b-back to the others,” Leah said.
Her companions were enjoying themselves, at least. Mastermind was running the gambit on some board game about capitalism. Liam explained the rules. The goal was to go around in a circle and collect properties, then build houses to jack up rent. More properties meant more spending power, which slowly starved the opponents out until one player had monopolized the board. It reminded Leah of how she’d taken over the best rooms at the Lodge. Only Kurt seemed to be at a loss. He’d finally found a problem that he couldn’t just solve by smashing to pieces, and it was killing him.
All things considered, the Clarks didn’t have such a bad deal going on. Food was plentiful, the location was remote, and the terrain would keep most herds at bay. Had they not been following Liam’s lead, they never would’ve found this place at all, and Leah suspected that the same would apply to most other Hunters and bandits. They’d really struck gold.
If only they weren’t so foolish. Barbara and Eric had clung to the idea that they were “family” so hard that, as the night progressed, they started to regurgitate stories of their former lives as though they were theirs, even though they were only told to them by Steven. Worse yet, Liam was falling into the same trap, and was no doubt wondering if he could do the same for his dead wife and daughter. Another argument I’ll have to weather.
By the end of the evening, Barbara had sterilized a bed for Liam, and gotten the rest of them fresh clothes. A new pair of jeans and underwear was nice, but Leah kept her sheepskin jacket and shirt anyway. There was too much utility to toss either to the wayside.
When all was said and done, Leah found herself back alone with Barbara in the kitchen, cleaning dishes.
“I apologize that w-we have to spend the night,” Leah said. “You know the l-living and their sleep.”
Barbara grinned. “It’s no problem. None at all! The extra hands are always nice.” She paused. “Which, I’ve been meaning to ask…”
Here it comes. “What i-is it, Barbara?”
“Maybe one of you could stay a little more while the rest go east? I know we look like we’re doing well, but it’s getting harder and harder. Heck, lately I’ve been fighting the stutters myself.”
Leah wasn’t surprised. There was a reason that most Enclaves seldom survived for long. Projects became trivial when an infinite number of bodies could be thrown at them, and Pandemonium offered labor without end. But the same couldn’t be said for operations this small, especially when so much effort was wasted.
“Could f-feed your husband l-less,” Leah suggested.
“But then he’ll never get better,” she said.
If that’s what you tell yourself. “I understand, and I’ll s-s-see what I can do.”
Barbara smiled.
It was a lie, just like everything else here. Steven was dead, regardless of what they believed. Less than one-in-ten hollows were capable of forming a Rez strong enough to become a rezzer. Most lacked the compatible genetics that HBRS-15.21 required to form a true resurrection, especially after being hollowed so long. From the look of things, Steven was not part of the blessed minority. And even if they somehow managed to bridge that gap, the human they’d known before was gone, just like the humans they’d once been. Whether they wanted to accept it or not, their old lives had ended the moment they’d been inflicted with this curse.
Leah would never understand why these two went to such lengths to delude themselves. In their effort to cling to their pre-hollowed lives, the Clarks had accomplished nothing other than solidify their own weakness. Their stories, their names, their souls. All self-inflicted deceptions. There had once been a family named “the Clarks” living here, but they were no more. Only imitations remained. Naive pantomimes afraid of embracing their true selves. It would’ve been sad if it wasn’t so pathetic.
What was Leah to do? They had found this treasure trove by trusting in Liam’s judgment, but if he was left to his own devices now, they’d gain nothing more here. Then Leah would be back in the wilds, slowly feeling her own light fade. The Hollowing wouldn’t care how polite or acquiescent or positive she’d been. It would still do what it always had, and drain her reservoir out, one memory after the next until there were none left.
Leah closed her eyes and embraced a moment of dark serenity. She’d pushed her own Rez to the brink on this one, and played this game as far as it could go, but there was no way out of where this would end. A few years, a few months. It didn’t matter. Barbara and Eric were destined to die, whether by hollowing or an ill twist of fate. Their story was tethered to the Enclave they’d built, and nothing could be done to save it from its inevitable collapse. What was the point of joining in their sacrifice? Why let antiquated morality get in the way when the stakes were so high? Leah had her own story to consider, and she did not want to die.
“You want us to get more pillows for Liam?” Barbara suddenly asked. She still had that dumb, innocent smile.
Leah drew her knife in silence.
* * *
The group continued their trek down the dirt path as the morning sun fell. Liam began to stir from within the cart. It had been the best spot to place him on their way out the night before.
On Leah’s orders, of course.
Liam yawned. “We leave already?”
“No reason to stay,” Leah said, her words now unwavering. “We have a lot of ground to make up for.”
“What about the Clarks?”
Mastermind and Kurt looked away, but Leah met his gaze. “They’re fine. Let us borrow their cart and everything. You were right. They couldn’t have been nicer folks.”
“Oh,” Liam said, deflated. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
“I did it for you.”
Liam limbered out of the cart and grabbed his pack. The group continued, and Leah shifted her attention back to the road.
“You sound better,” Liam pointed out. “Did you manage to get more food from them, after all?”
“Yes,” Leah answered. “They gave me everything I needed.”
