August 10, 2012 Day 166 PGP
"Ugh..Strongbow, what HAVE you done to yourself?"
Strongbow sighs and leans a bit closer to the dusty, antique mirror, appraising herself distainfully.
Blonde hair, shaggy and windworn underneath the ballcap that desparately needed an oilchange. The skin on her face dark from days on the road, inherited freckles dotting her nose. And her eyes...tap tap tap.
"Almost done!" She calls over her shoulder to the door behind her.
"Just wanted to let you know that the hummer's unloaded," Monk replies, muffled through the door. "Doc's working on rigging his heat-scope into some goggles. Should help when we get back on the road."
"That's great." Strongbow sticks out her tongue at her reflection in disgust. "I'll be out in a bit, ok?"
"Take your time, Strongbow", he smiles at the door, "...and do the world a favor and take a BATH!"
The door opens. Monk ducks as Strongbow, laughing, throws her boot at him. "Bloody bugger!..not a bed of roses yourself, mate!" The door slams shut again.
Smiling, Monk plops down on the antique bed, studying his map. Let's see...Godswill..Godswill...nothing.
Shaking his head, Monk unbuckles his belt, getting more comfortable. He runs a hand over his face. 'How the hell did I get here?' he thinks.
After their narrow escape from Fort Hope, he and Strongbow had headed to Bridgeton for gas and more supplies.
While they were there, Strongbow pointed out what Monk already knew...Bridgeton was a ghost town.
'Dammedest thing I've ever seen,' he thinks. Most towns had at least SOME of the local populace wandering its streets or shuffling about their houses, trapped by doors, barricades and their own decaying minds. Bridgeton was different. Although it had obviously BEEN inhabited at the time of the outbreak, for some unexplained reason, everyone had just vanished, almost in midstep. Newspapers sporting headlines about the "flu" still bundled in front of businesses, tables with dusty plates set, cars that had been running until they ran out of gas sitting in the road, keys still in the ignition.. But not a soul in sight. Sarge,(Monk grimaces at the bastards memory), hadn't cared about the oddity of it all. Nor did he seem to care about the other odd thing about Bridgeton.....
...The holes.
Holes, apparently dug by the residents themselves, dotted the town. Tools of all kinds lay in and around them. Some apparently, (at least seemed), to be dug by BARE hands.
Since then, Monk had been looking for signs of them. The zombies, he had noticed, would dig holes, mostly looking for rodents and such, but Monk doubted these were the same. These seemed to be dug by people BEFORE their reanimation. They were always similar: circular, about two feet across and nearly two feet deep and apparently dug with whatever the person could find nearby.
Monk lays back, listening for a moment to the sound of water running and Strongbows off-key singing behind the bathroom door.
In all cases, he remembers, only the holes were found. Not a single body, living or not, was ever near or around the holes...
...except one. The basement, where we found...
Monks thoughts are interrupted as he hears a quiet knock at the bedroom door. "Can I come in?" asks a voice.
"C'mon in, Doc." Monk sits up, swinging his legs back onto the floor. A small Asian man walks in, cautiously looking around. Closing the door behind him, he walks over to a chair across the room, unslinging a long-barreled rifle and resting it against the wall. Pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, he smiles widely.
"So how are the goggles coming along?" asks Monk, eyeing the nervous-looking doctor humourously.
"What..oh..fine, fine," Doc fidgets with the sleeve of his tattered labcoat. "I just need a proper strap to secure it...it's a bit cumbersome." He looks toward the bathroom door where the sound of water has stopped. He gestures around the room. "So what do you make of this place?"
Pulling a rag out of his cargo pocket, Monk unsheathes the machete from his belt and begins wiping the rag along its edges.
"I'm not sure, to tell you the truth, Doc," he says, not looking up. "Godswill isn't on the maps I have, nor on Strongbows civilian map." Monk flips the blade over and continues polishing. "I have to imagine that the town is pre-outbreak, but I'm having a hard time believing that no one here seems to have ANY idea about ANYTHING."
"Yes, it is quite peculiar." Doc agrees, continuing to fidget with his coatsleeves. "But the people ARE friendly," he gestures to the room around them, "and I've scoped as many as I can...no sign of infection at all." He abandons his sleeves, his hands finding a stray thread sticking out of his worn pants instead.
Monk lifts up the machete, appraising his work. "So what are we dealing with...what the hell are these 'arasites' you were researching near Bridgeton?" He looks intently at the fidgeting man.
"Ahh..well..um," Doc clears his throat. "It seems to be some form of microscopic organism, an agressive retro-virus. Where it originated," he shrugs, "I have really no idea."
He leans forward excitedly, "But they are fascinating, absolutely amazing!" He pushes his glasses up. "It seems that they infect the host through fluidic contact..blood, saliva..." He glances at the door, lowering his voice.
"...semen." Doc blushes a bit.
Monk smiles at the mans discomfort. "We know that, Doc." He stands, sheathing his machete and begins leaning against the main door. "What I don't understand is how people infected with this bug.."
"Parasite!" Doc interjects, waving a pointed finger above his head excitedly.
"...PARASITE," Monk rolls his eyes, "can continue to live after death.."
"..And why do they not only attack, but EAT the flesh of the living?" Strongbow asks as she opens the bathroom door, dressed in saggy BDU pants and brown t-shirt, drying her hair. She flops onto the bed, facing the now very nervous doctor.
"Better," Monk jokes, narrowly avoiding her other boot that bounces off the wall.
"Bugger off, mate," she says, smiling at Monk, then turns back to Doc, awaiting is reply.
"Well..um..Strongbow..," his hand finding his coatsleeve again, "it seems the parasite actually works its way to the frontal cor..the brain and reconfigures it to survive with minimal bodily function. Respritory function continues, but without any real oxygen intake. The heart," he points at his chest, "stops completely. The subject," Doc pauses dramatically, "is completely dead."
"HOWEVER," he continues, "the brain still lives, just independantly. The parasite effectively steers the body, directing it where to go...how to act."
"Why...," Doc goes on, answering before Strongbow can inturrupt, "...it directs the host to attack uninfected people, well..I can only imagine it is to spread the virus to other hosts. The ingestion is a bit of a puzzle, I must say." He scratches his head and pushes his glasses back up.
"There is no plausable reason that I have been able to decuce for consuming the flesh of victims." Doc grimaces in thought. "The pieces simply stay lodged in the throat, or compound within the bowels until the pressure reaches levels enough for the host to ex...."
Strongbow raises her hands to inturrupt. "We get the idea, Doc." She points at his rifle. "So, what are we seeing through the heat-scope?"
"Ah," Doc reaches in his pocket, pulling out the long scope, "what you're seeing is essentially concentrated clusters of the organism." He shrugs. " I have no idea at this time why they congregate in these places," Doc looks anxiously at Strongbow then Monk, "but perhaps if I could re-access my lab, I could..."
He is inturrupted by a knock at the door. It opens a bit and a woman's face, round and smiling, peeks through the opening.
"I hope you're all settled, you three," she grins even wider. "Oh, I'm so excited, God be praised!" She claps her hands. "Everyone in town is anxious to meet you. By God's grace, I was able to calm them down, but...oh, God's grace..how I prattle on." She flusters, pressing her hands against the folds of her full dress. "Please, please..if there is anything I can do to ease your tired souls, by Gods grace I'll be more than happy to." She beams and points at herself, "Simply ask for Edna or Hank, my husband."
With a flurry of skirts, she walks quickly away, footsteps sounding softer as she goes downstairs.
Strongbow, Monk and Doc stare at each other for a moment,
then burst out laughing. They laugh for several minutes, loud enough to be heard outside.
The townspeople, gathered below, look up at the bedroom window without expression and wait in silence.
That evening, the three are asked, with much flourish by Edna, to dinner.
As they step into the dining room, Strongbow gasps. The table is immaculately spread. Glazed ham, steaming vegetables and fresh bread assault their senses. Strongbow groans as they sit at their places, mouths watering in anticipation.
Edna, watching their expressions with pleasure, says "I know you're all famished, by Gods Grace!" She sits near and empty chair, looking to the door anxiously.
After a moment, a large man in dusty coveralls, a patched hat and ancient boots walks through the door and into the room. Edna stands, as the man takes off his hat.
"You three," Edna says,"may I present my husband, Hank." He turns and appraises them wordlessly.
"Hank," she goes on, unaware, "may I present our guests: Strongbow, Monk and Doc."
Hank sits heavily in his chair at the head of the table, eyes moving from face to face, eventually settling on his own hands. After a moment he closes his eyes.
"Oh great God," Hank starts with a heavy drawl, as everyone bows their heads quickly, "We are gathered by Thy great hand in these wonderous last days, to thank Ye for Yer continued bounty and mercy."
Strongbow peeks, looking up at Monk. His eyes are open as well, looking at her, then at Hank suspiciously. She barely nods.
"Yea, as we struggle through Thy final battle with evil, know that it is by THY bountiful mercy that we are able to provide for our family."
Edna sighs and nods, eyes screwed shut.
"Yea verily, shall we be blessed by Thy grace forever..."
Pauses.."Amen."
"AMEN, BY GODS GRACE!", Edna exclaims.
Amens are mumbled by the group as the food is passed around.
"So, Hank," Monk begins, mouth full of ham, "have you traveled outside of town, lately?" Strongbow looks up, waiting.
"Nope," Hank replies, glancing at Edna. "The land I till is just near th' house, by Gods grace."
"I see," Monk continues, "so you've not seen any strange things or people pass through?"
...to be continued
