Kody Boye - Sunrise

“Elise,” Gerald warned, standing. “That’s enough.”

“Your forbidden desires and your lust of the flesh was what brought these creatures unto us!” the woman cried. “ You did it! YOU did it!”

“We didn’t do anything!” Dakota cried.

“Oh, boy, you did. You know exactly what you’ve done.”

“Lady, I haven’t done anything! I’m still a virgin!”

“So says the boy who comes into our home with a man.”

“That is more than enough,” Gerald said, taking Elise by the arm. “I won’t have this, especially not after everything we’ve gone through.”

Elise stopped moving. Her muscles, tense from her husband’s initial touch, relaxed, while her lips curled in horror as though Gerald had delivered her last penance. It took a moment for the shock in her eyes and the horror from her face to clear, but when it did, what replaced it was so much worse than anything the dead could have summoned.

“So,” she said, after a moment’s hesitation. “You’ve sided with the heathens.”

“I never said that.”

“I always knew that was wrong with you, Gerald. I saw you.”

“Saw me what?”

“I saw you looking at other men.”

The hair on Dakota’s arms stood on end and the weight in his heart increased tenfold. A pendulum dropping upon his head, it sliced any calm rationale within his mind and let it fall into two pieces. At his side, Steve stood silent, though his hand strayed to the holster at his side. Please don’t, he thought, ready to lash out and tackle his friend to the ground at any moment.

“This is ridiculous,” Gerald said, breaking the brief moment of silence that shattered the violent cloud of hate in the room. “Elise, I have never—”

“That time at the amusement park, when we were with little Sophie and her parents. I saw you looking at him, Gerald.”

“ Who?”

“That boy. I always knew you were wrong, Gerald. I should’ve listened to Mother when she said you were a bad man, but by God, I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that the man I loved, my husband, wanted men. I didn’t. I didn’t. I DIDN’T!”

“ ENOUGH!” Gerald roared.

“They’re being too loud,” Dakota whispered, eyes darting to the window as he saw shapes moving on the road. “Steve, they’re going to hear us in here!”

“God will deliver me to his kingdom!” Elise cried, throwing herself to the front door. “He will deliver me my salvation and send his angels with trumpeting horns to free me from my mortal sin!”

“ELISE!” Gerald screamed.

“NO!” the woman cried.

She hurled the door open.

A figure lunged from the shadows just as the glass in the front windows exploded into the living room.

“GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!” Gerald cried. “ELISE! NO!”

“It’s not worth it,” Steve cried, grabbing the man’s arm. “Don’t do it, Gerald! Don’t do it!”

In the final moments of her life, Elise spread her arms and smiled. Crucified by her mortal sins, she closed her eyes and whispered a prayer just moments before the zombie burst into the living room and dragged her to the ground.

“NO!” Gerald screamed, tearing away from Steve’s grasp and grabbing a nearby lamp. “BASTARDS! LEAVE MY WIFE ALONE!”

“DON’T DO IT!” Dakota screamed.

Steve tried to grab the man, but it was no use. By the time Gerald slammed the lamp over the zombie’s head, three more appeared from the shadows and launched themselves into the house, pulling Gerald away just as he reached his motionless wife.

Dakota raised his gun. He flipped the safety off.

“No, Dakota!” Steve cried. “They’re already dead! We have to get out of here!”

“But I…they…” Tears streaming down his face, he lowered his gun and followed Steve into the kitchen, toward the door that led out into the backyard. From the other room, he could hear Gerald’s cries of anguish as the creatures ripped him to pieces. A shambling zombie attempted to follow, but Dakota raised his gun and fired a shot, which could barely be heard over the howls of agony projected from Gerald’s lungs.

Steve kicked the door open.

The corpse fell to the ground with a bullet through its head.

Dakota took one last look into the living room. He saw a painting of a beautiful sunrise just before Steve pulled him out the back door.

“Corporal Marks, has the perimeter been secured?”

“Yes sir,” Corporal Jamie Marks said, taking a brief glance back at the chain-link fence. “The perimeter is clear, sir.”

“How many casualties?”

“Six confirmed, sir, possibly more.”

“Dammit,” Sergeant Armstrong breathed, swiping a hand across the stubble on his head. “Civilians, military?”

“Mostly civilians, sir. Two military.”

“Who?”

“Marsh and Rangers.”

“Privates,” the sergeant sighed. He surveyed the area, his usually-mean eyes softening to the point of what looked to be sorrow. “Have the corpses been dealt with?”

“All within the perimeter have been dealt with, sir,” Private Erik Roberts said, stepping into place beside Corporal Marks with his hands clasped behind his back.

“What do you mean ‘within the perimeter’?”

“Some of the civilians were trapped outside when we closed the door—most bitten. Casualties, sir.”

“The remaining civilians?”

“Dustin Bowers and Michael Young are waiting inside the front lobby with deputies Kirn and Wills. Last I saw, the boy followed them in.”

“He have a name?”

“Desmond, sir. Desmond Child.”

“Good. Corporal, Private, I’d like you both to enter the building and scout the first floor. We don’t want any of them pus bags sneaking up on us.”

“Yes sir!” they said in unison.

Turning, Jamie strode across the sectioned-off parking lot and sighed when he caught sight of the body bags stacked against the far wall. They’d have to be burned eventually, before the birds and bugs came in, but that didn’t seem necessary at the moment. Though the perimeter around the building had been secured, the building itself had not.

“You all right?” Erik Roberts asked, brushing up alongside him.

Jamie grunted, head swimming with the lovechild of a headache.

Erik opened the glass door. All eyes turned toward them as they entered. “Listen up,” Jamie said, raising his voice to gather the attention of both the civilians and his fellow soldiers. “Private Roberts and I have been instructed to secure the first floor. Kirn, Wills, I want the two of you to stay here and guard the lobby, stairway and civilians. We’ll need an escape route if something goes wrong.”

“Nothing in here, Corporal,” Wills said.

“Nope,” Kirn added, lifting his cigarette to take a drag. “Anything in here would’ve already heard us.”

“Regardless,” Jamie said, “it’s better we stay smart and safe until we know for sure.”

“Whatever you say, Corporal.”

Though Jamie caught the telltale snicker from Wills and the sarcastic undertone from Kirn, he ignored them, instead making his way toward the hallway that led to the first-floor apartments. He drew his pistol and aimed it toward the ground, waiting until Erik did the same before stepping forward. “Some apartment building,” he mused, admiring the porcelain-white tile and the coal-black plaques embossed upon the doors.

“Didn’t use to be one,” Erik said.

“Huh?”

“This apartment. It’s converted.”

“From what?”

“An asylum.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Kirn and Wills.”

Talk about creepy, Jamie thought, suppressing the shiver that crested the curve of his spine. He gestured to the first door with a nod of his head and reached for the doorknob, nodding as Erik raised his gun.