In the Aftermath: Burning of the Dawn Page 29

  The church was gloomy enough from the outside, and the inside was even glummer. It was dim, dusty, and stale with various degrees of rubbish scattered amongst the pews. All of the windows were haphazardly boarded up, to which Serena was failing to see the reasoning behind. What exactly were these boards suppose to keep out? Light perhaps? Rays of light peered into the church through the sizable gaps between the boards, but the place was still pervaded with ample amounts of murk and gloom. The large gaps between the lumber also let in the wind. If the purpose of the boards was to keep out the elements, then they had thoroughly failed in that regard.

  Mary clouted Amy into a dais near the entrance and then sauntered over to one of the pews at the forefront of the church. She placed her foot upon the backside of the bench and tipped it over to reveal two blue sleeping bags hiding underneath. Anthony approached to see what Mary had revealed.

  “Just drop Isabeau anywhere,” Mary spoke as she looked back towards Anthony. “Any place will do; she’s not too picky.” Mary knelt down and unzipped one of the sleeping bags. Anthony found a semi-empty pew and gently placed the crossbow upon it. He adored the weapon very much, but it would be no great joy to carry it for too long. As her son tended to the crossbow, Serena cautiously approached Mary. She, too, was interested in what the girl had in her possession; though the mystery of it was not at all appealing to her. There was no telling what kind of oddities Mary might deem interesting that other people might find somewhat alarming.

  “Think fast, Mama Bear.” As soon as Mary spoke she tossed a can of something over her shoulder. Serena did not think fast enough; the can went through her hands, bounced off of her arm, and crashed to the cluttered floor below. Mary made a sound resembling something between a grunt and a laugh as she went back to rummaging through her bag. Serena reached down and retrieved the canned good. Bright, red, beautiful cherries were pictured on the side of the canister. Anthony approached to examine the item. The contents in the can never seemed to be as good as they looked on the label, yet both mother and son were certain that this one would not be a disappointment. The cherries looked almost too good to eat… almost.

  “Wow,” Serena spoke softly. Small portions of crackers, meat, and rice cakes were the majority of the meals that she and her son had been consuming for months now. The cherries were too good to be true, yet Mary was not quite done.

  “There’s more where that came from, comrades! My plunder is your plunder.” As Mary stood from her sleeping bags, the total scope of the bounty within one of them was fully revealed. The bag on the right was filled to the brim with canned goods: fruit, soup, and vegetable canisters were amalgamated with plastic jars of honey and a few bottles of butter

  “That’s incredible…” Serena confessed. “We couldn’t ask it of you.”

  “Then don’t ask it; just eat it.” Mary implored as she stepped over to the other sleeping bag.

  Serena lifted the tab on the top of the cherry can and removed the lid. She savored the scent for a moment and then handed the cherries over to her son. “Thank you, Mary.” She said as she watched Anthony muse over how he was going to get at the contents within the can.

  “Yeah, thank you!” Anthony added. A moment later he tipped the can up and drank the cherries from it. They were even better than what the label suggested.

  “What is that, a .38?” Mary made a motion towards Serena’s gun.

  Serena looked down to the weapon in her hand; she turned it over and examined it curiously. “I think so, maybe, I don’t know for sure.” She answered. Even though the weapon had been in her possession for months now, Serena knew little about it. She knew that it was not loaded and she had never come across any bullets in her scavenging, so the opportunity never presented itself to try any types of ammunition.

  “May I?” Mary asked with overstated courtesy as she presented her hand to Serena. Serena handed her gun over to Mary and instantly she felt her anxieties going to work. If Mary had bullets for that weapon then what was there to stop her from using it against her and her son?

  Mary did, in fact, have bullets for Serena’s revolver. In quick succession, Mary released the cylinder from the .38, loaded it to capacity, and then flipped the cylinder back into place. She turned the weapon over in her hand and handed it back to Serena without delay. Serena took back her weapon and silently chastised herself for distrusting Mary. Strange and callow the woman surely was, but Serena could think of nothing more that Mary could do to earn her trust.

  As she stared down at the weapon in her hand, another worry had come to perturb Serena. Her gun was actually dangerous now and she had no experience in using it. Mary was stuffing contents back into the sleeping bag whence she procured the bullets to Serena’s gun. As she pulled the zipper to close in the contents, Serena spoke to her.

  “Mary,” Serena looked from her gun and down to the strange girl. As Mary stood from her place by the sleeping bags, Serena offered her back the weapon. “I don’t know how to use this. Better you keep it for now.”

  “What’re you suppose to use?” Mary posed a good question. “Wits alone won’t keep you alive, honey.”

  “I know, but I’d be more dangerous to us than I would be to our enemies. I don’t know anything about guns.”

  “Hah, and you’re from Texas?!” Mary accepted the revolver from Serena. “Normally I’m all for goin’ against a stereotype, but for shame, darlin’, for shame! You’re right though; not much use in shootin’ at something ya can’t hit. Bullets don’t grow on trees, unlike arrows.” Mary left the congregation of pews and made her way up to the dark, oak pulpit at the head of the church. She reached behind the dais and retrieved a .41 Marlin lever-action rifle. “A gift from our dear friend Hodge.” Mary spoke as she brought the weapon to Serena. “Better for beginners than a handgun.”

  “I still don’t know how to use it.” Serena confessed.

  “Just cock the lever and aim the noisy end at the bad guys.” Mary gave a brief display before handing the weapon over to Serena. “It might have a little kick, but nothin’ you can’t handle.” Mary showed both Serena and Anthony how to unload and reload the weapon and offered a few tips on firing technique. Serena still dreaded ever having to use the rifle, but Mary’s logic was astute: a firearm would undoubtedly mean life or death at some point, and Serena did not want to be caught unarmed again.

  “That soup would probably taste better warm. Of course, building a fire might get the attention of our rowdy friends.” Mary spoke as she offered a can of soup to Serena and Anthony.

  “You won’t hear any complaints from us,” Anthony said as he accepted Mary’s soup. He, his mother, and Mary sat in an open area in the center aisle as they feasted on Mary’s plunder. Anthony looked around the ominous, broken-down church. It was cluttered and dirty, but he was content. “You brought us an early Christmas, Miss Mary.”

  “It always was my favorite time of year.” She proclaimed.

  “Mine, too,” Anthony spoke as he pried open the soup can. “Sorry we don’t have more to offer you.”

  “Nonsense,” scoffed Mary. “Friendship is the greatest gift of all gifts, is it not? Though I might take you up on that clothes thing. Mine are startin’ to smell a ripe bit of peculiar.”

  “You’re welcome to whatever we have.” Serena spoke as she shared some soup with her son. “All of our things are still in the car.”

  “You should probably hide that better,” Mary spoke with a mouth full of canned pineapple chunks. “Your car. We’ll go back out in a minute. I should probably move those dead dudes, too. They’re gonna look and smell a ripe bit of peculiar themselves in the morning if I don’t.”

  “Actually, we’ll probably be leaving soon.” Serena stated solemnly. She decided to offer Mary the chance to go with them, but her son beat her to the invitation.

  “You can come with us.” Anthony wistfully declared.

  “Maybe,” Mary replied indifferently. “Depends on what direction you’re goin’.”
<
br />   “North, and then eventually to the coast,” Serena answered. “But I don’t know how far we’ll make it; we’re getting low on fuel. There wouldn’t be any left in this town anywhere, would there?”

  “Nope, any fuel left in this part of the state would be in the possession of the friends of our dead friends we left rotting in the parking lot. But, a detour westward might give you what you’re lookin’ for.”

  “We were heading west, that’s how we ended up here. I was hoping a turn through Nevada would be safe enough and save us some miles… ill-judged that was, on my part.”

  “Good plan, just bad luck.” Mary appeased.

  “I’m thinking of turning north towards Battle Mountain. You know anything about it?”

  “I’ve killed eleven men; I’ll give ya a guess where I snuffed out the other eight.” Mary’s mocking smile could be very menacing.

  “Battle Mountain…” Serena answered forlornly. She wanted to be out of Nevada as quickly as possible, yet it appeared that her best northern route was now cut off.

  “No, Tonopah actually, but Battle Mountain is just as fucked up. It’s the northern-most outpost for our asshole friends. You goin’ there would be a most unfortunate end to our new friendship, I’m afraid. Anyway, the fuel you want is further west.”

  “How much west?” Serena asked the question, but she was certain she already knew the ill-fated answer. Mary soon confirmed it.

  “Carson City.”

  “Really?” Anthony pondered. “I’d’ve thought that place would be full of wicked people.”

  “No people, actually,” Mary nearly shuddered as she spoke. “But I still wouldn’t call it safe.”

  “No,” Serena stated bluntly. “I’d rather take our chances to the north.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Mary tossed her empty pineapple can across the church towards a metal trash bin. The bin was nearing the point of overflow, yet the pineapple can still landed inside and managed to stay within the bin’s confines. “But you’ll have to give up your car. You won’t get by on the roads. You’ll have to go on foot and take to the desert.”

  Serena did not like the sound of that at all. Even though her vehicle was nothing special, it was still hers and she did not want to give it up. Anthony didn’t like that plan either. The car did not hold as much significance to him as it did to his mother, but he feared the quiet vastness of the hills, mountains, and deserts all around him. The nights would be especially bad.

  “I can drive,” Serena asserted. “I can outrun them.”

  “Without fuel?” Mary’s tone was somber, but her eyes were full of fire. Serena could see that the girl had a plan – one that was likely as crazy as she was.

  “I might have enough to get us away.” Serena’s argument lacked any zest or zeal. It was not a plan she would be willing to risk her own life over, let alone her son’s life, too.

  “That a plan you’d chance your son’s life on?” Mary taunted. “I understand your fear, my dear, but you can’t let it make this decision for you. North by foot, or west by wheels?”

  “What would you pick?” Anthony asked. His choice was definitely to head west. He had heard tales of the brutality and destructiveness of the Sayona, but neither he nor his mother had ever knowingly been near their stalking grounds. Anthony feared the beasts, but he feared the violence of man even more. The boy had come to know the brutality and destructiveness of humans all too well.

  “To the west,” Mary proclaimed. “To the cities!”

  “There might be Sayona there.” Serena hesitated to say the word. Unlike her son, the alien creatures frightened her just as much as humans did. She had not seen their viciousness first hand, but they terrified her all the same. It was the purported speed of the monsters that perturbed her more than anything. If the Sayona could outrun her vehicle then no amount of fuel would save them from a gruesome death.

  “No, there’re definitely Sayona there,” Mary possessed very few hints of concern as she spoke. “But they won’t be lookin’ for us. We’ll be quiet, we’ll be clever, and those ugly bitches will never even know we were there.”

  “You think we can do it?” Anthony asked. “Get in, get the gas, and get back out without being noticed?” His fear and excitement were both struggling for dominance. The fight was equally matched so far, but Mary’s confidence was rapidly tipping the scales in excitement’s favor.

  “I’ve done it before; I can do it again.” Mary looked to Serena; the uncertainty in the poor woman’s eyes was easy to see. “I might come off as rash and unruly at times, but I promise you, Mama Bear, there is always a method behind my madness.”

  Serena was not convinced of that, but Mary’s choice was the more sensible one. Eventually, she acquiesced and agreed to keep heading west, much to her son’s delight. Mary claimed to have visited Reno and Carson City on multiple occasions. According to her, the cities were safe and soundless so long as the sun was up.

  “Kinda creepy and really boring,” Mary attested concerning the cities. “But no dangers in the daylight.”

  “Did you see any Sayona?” Anthony asked.

  “No,” Mary knew the sounds of the Sayona well, but she had never actually seen one in person. “But they are there, I’m sure of it.”

  “How do you know? Or do I wanna know?”

  “It’s the silence. It’s too damn quiet; that’s how ya can tell when they’re nearby. Well, that, and all the fucked up shit they scratch and scribe all over the buildings.”

  “What?” Serena asked. She had heard many things about the monsters, but this was something new. “Like symbols or actual words?”

  “Both, maybe,” Mary answered. “There were symbols and shapes, but mostly they just draw pictures. When I first saw ‘em I thought maybe people had done it, but upon further examination, yeah, it was obviously not the work of any humans.”

  “What did they draw?” Anthony dared to ask.

  “Let’s just say they have an odd sense of humor and a strange obsession with violence.” Mary stood from her place on the floor and cracked her knuckles above her head. “But I do have to give those devils their due: they’ve got talent.”

  “I guess I’ll see it for myself soon enough.” Anthony proclaimed; the nervousness in his tone was difficult to mask.

  “Yeah, you will. Just remember, they won’t know we were ever there.”

  “Should we leave now?” Serena asked. The sooner they were out of Nevada the better. The day had waned, however, and by the time they neared the cities there might not be time enough left to properly search for supplies.

  “We could, I guess.” Mary answered. “Right now or early tomorrow morning, you guys make the call.”

  Anthony was in no hurry to enter Sayona territory, but he did not voice any concerns for fear of sounding craven. His mother, though fearful herself, desired more than anything to be rid of this place. She did not hesitate to voice her opinion.

  “The sooner the better.” Serena stated as she stood from her place on the church floor.

  “Well okay,” spoke Mary. “Let’s get this freak show on the road!”

  “We’ll get my car and bring it back here,” Serena spoke to Mary. “We can load up whatever you want to take with us.”

  “Okay,” replied Mary. “I don’t have much: Isabeau, Amy, Rebecca, and my sleepy-bags of stolen treasures.”

  Rebecca? Anthony pondered. Who the hell is Rebecca? Or what the hell is Rebecca? Before he could ask, his mother spoke to him

  “I want you to stay here ‘til we get back.” Serena spoke as Anthony rose to join her and Mary.

  “Why?” Anthony asked, though he already knew why. His mother was being overly concerned with his safety, which vexed him. Even though he was young, he was still not a child. His mother might see him that way, but Anthony didn’t want Mary to see him that way as well.

  “It’s still danger…” Serena began to speak.

  “Girls’ moment.” Mary interrupted. “Mama needs to
talk to me before we leave – make sure I’m not crazy or anything before we ride off into the sunset together.” Mary gave Anthony a mischievous grin. “Tell you what, there’s something you can do for me while we’re away. There’s a room in the back of this place. In this room there’s a grungy cot, a black leather trunk, and a green backpack. Could you be an absolute dear and bring that trunk and the backpack out here for me? That nasty, shit-bag cot can stay.”

  “Yeah,” Anthony replied, still vexed, but happy to assist Mary in any small way. “I can do that.”

  “I gotta warn ya, the trunk’s a little heavy,” Mary confessed. “But I’m confidant you can handle it.”

  “I’ll do it.” Anthony asserted.

  “Thank you, my darlin’! Your mother and I will be right back.”

  Serena gave her son a half smile before she and Mary departed from the church. Her son was brave, braver than she was, but that did not make him invincible. If anything it could cause him greater harm in the future. Serena simply did not want her son to see the dead men again. She hated the fact that she couldn’t shield him from the violence and terror that he had already witnessed. It likely wouldn’t have made any difference, but her instincts still compelled her to protect her son from the ugly aspects of life whenever it was possible. Also, Mary was not just making excuses to salvage some of Anthony’s pride; Serena did want to speak to her alone to better gauge the volatile woman’s sanity, or lack thereof.

  As Mary and Serena were leaving the church, Mary abruptly paused for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” She stated and then darted back into the church. Serena waited outside. Anthony was on the floor placing canned goods back into Mary’s bag when he saw her return. He stood as she approached.

  “Is everything all right?” He asked.

  “Yeah, about that trunk I mentioned…” Mary spoke with a skewed, reluctant look on her face. “Like I said, it’s kinda heavy and if you don’t think you can move it without droppin’ it, don’t even attempt it, okay?”