The Wretched

Humanity, ever the engineers of their own destruction, have ultimately destroyed civilization with war, reckless science, and environmental change. In this bleak future, the remnants of civilization m

The Wretched

 

By: JM VanZuiden

 

 

 

Copyright © 2019 JM VanZuiden

All rights reserved,

Including the right of reproduction

In whole or in part in any form.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places

and events are products of the author’s imagination.

Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons,

living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

VanZuiden, J.M.

The Wretched

ISBN-13: 978-0463143681

ISBN-10: 0463143681

 

“It is their time!” the Mayor demands. “We have all done our part… we have all made the sacrifice!”

The town hall, once decorated in patriotic paintings upon clean, pine walls, was now but a shadow of its former self. Long gone was the brilliant chandelier that beckoned the attention of all who entered, as was any sign of all but the most basic structure that held the building together. Even the wood panels had been cannibalized over time, leaving nothing but a skeleton of timbers with only the exterior red brick holding back the chill of the fall wind. This stark and simple structure stands as the epitome of the little town of Galena, its features once dressed in nothing but the finest antiques in keeping with the mid-nineteenth century feel of this former tourist trap.

Once, this resort town in the far northwest corner of Illinois beckoned Chicago’s wealthy from across the state, now, it was but a haunting reminder of times long past. Its population, whittled-down to less than three-hundred residents, were reduced to living a life as primitive as their setting, making do without such luxuries as running water or electricity. Reflecting this setting, their clothes, worn by time and patched from necessity, hung limply over their skeletal frames, a very tangible reminder of the sparse living suffered by the survivors.

“But they are not well… they will do no one any good!” Samantha pleads to the dead eyes of her friends and neighbors.

“We all agreed, Samantha,” the Mayor responds with a firm and stronger voice than his stature would suggest. “It has been many years since the sacrifice began, you’ve had longer than the rest to prepare.”

Tears beginning to well, the dark-haired woman her mid-thirties stands suddenly, drawing the weary eyes of the townsfolk.

“No!” She demands, her voice broken and weak. “Not yet…” her voice trails-off as she lowers her gaze.

The room remains silent, the eyes of the others not daring to meet the distressed woman’s face nor to contest her agony. The Mayor, a quickly balding man in his late fifties, was not only the oldest person left in the town but easily the last with any will to lead the forlorn populace. This was evidenced by the lack of but a single voice standing against him in the previous election.

Samantha, her emaciated body hiding all but a hint of her former beauty, stumbles backward, still facing the gathered room of the several dozen peers healthy enough to attend.

Choking past the lump in her throat, she finally breaks the awkward silence, “They are not ready. I need more time. I must have more time.”

“Samantha, listen to yourself. Were you not there at the beginning? Have you not seen the suffering of all that have sacrificed?

As if caught by his words, Samantha’s retreat ceases, though fear, not acceptance, rules her action.

“I,” she stutters, “I need more time.”

“No, Samantha, we all agreed to this,” the Mayor announces, standing with authority as he does so. “It is for the best of all that remain, and you know it is the merciful thing to do for their sake. No one should suffer through the Wretching. If not by our hand, it will be by God’s, you know this.”

“No! You don’t know… no one knows! They haven’t even shown the signs; they will be different, I know it!” Samantha pleads, the floodgates breaking loose.

Again, there is silence, only the Mayor daring to face the pleading young Mother. The flickering candles dance against the walls in silence for a time, and many, not just Samantha, feel the chill of the northern fall creeping into their veins. The stillness of the crowd says what none short of the Mayor dare express; that of the desperation of dying people ashamed of what they have all done to survive.

Samantha’s thin, dark strands fall across her pale face, and she gathers what little voice she has left in a desperate rebuttal, “I never agreed… this is not my burden! You cannot have them!”

With a calming hand in the air, the Mayor’s eyes darken, his patience, or more likely his appetite, overpowering his normally calm and amicable demeanor, “Enough!”

His angered shout seems to shatter the room, and one could imagine the stripped building tumbling like the Walls of Jericho from his sudden and thunderous report.

Samantha, her hands shaking, lowers her gaze to the floor, all but defeated. A handful of the spectators finally look to her, almost expecting to see her broken from the Mayor’s demand. Instead, resolution retakes her face as she wipes the tears and returns her eyes to the man at the podium.

His face softening, almost as if sympathetic to her pleas, the Mayor finally continues, “I will give you until the morning. Make your peace, Samantha. We will come for them when the sun breaks the darkness.”

In this moment of seeming finality, the frailty and shattered mind of Samantha finds its bearing. She comes to the stark reality that this is a battle she cannot win. With resolve and feigned submission, she answers, “I understand.”

Most of the remaining eyes finally look upon her, surprised by the sudden turn. The Mayor, a veritable dictator for the past seven years, replies with a warm, but satisfied smile, “That is better, Samantha. We must all do our part and pray for better times.”

Standing straight, Samantha responds with little sign of her recent distress, “Yes… “she hesitates for just a breath, “I am sorry everyone, I was being selfish, I… I will go prepare them.”

“Very good, Samantha. Go now, we will finish our meeting and come for them in the morn’.”

Bowing to the Mayor, Samantha, struggling to maintain her composure, turns abruptly from the center of the townhall and walks with intensity toward the exit.

 

<> 

 

Seemingly, it had come without warning. First, the Northern Hemisphere hand been drowned in a year of unrelenting rainfall while the Southern Hemisphere baked. It hadn’t taken long for the world economy to come to a shuttering halt. Three years after the first globally acknowledged climate disaster, the first domino fell when China invaded Taiwan, sparking the kindling of an eventual global war.

China, desperate to distract its starving population and hold the beleaguered Communist regime together, had finally grown bold enough to follow through upon its decades-old threat of reclaiming Taiwan.  The United States, itself becoming desperate in the face of economic ruin, honored its treaty to the island state, and engaged in a brutal war with Asian Dragon, drawing most of the world’s powers into the inferno of man’s folly.

Ten years after it had begun, the world’s population was but a third of its former size. However, in the tentative peace resulting from the massive conflict, a seaming break-through occurred, Mana. In the remnant European Union, scientists finally perfected lab-assembled food using water as the base ingredient and engineering at a molecular level. The effect was instant. The World Food Bank immediately set about disseminating the formula and gathering the resources needed to manufacture and distribute the simple equipment required to begin worldwide distribution.

For a time, it seemed humanity would recover and blossom. Society began to rebuild itself into a new image, one that respected the world it was part of and sought unity for the human species. This new world government seemed to finally have gotten it right, striking a brilliant balance between control and liberty. However, this was but a splinter in time.

Twelve years after this ostensible rebirth had begun, the Wretching fell upon humanity. It was sudden and seemingly isolated at first, but the world’s authorities slowly realized that the ones and twos that were falling victim in the surviving towns and cities were in-fact, spreading… and in a way no one could have fathomed.

 

<> 

 

Her pace was determined and quick as she left the old townhall, but as Samantha climbed the old brick streets that wound their way up the bluffs of Galena, her stride had suddenly slackened until stopping altogether. A sharp cramp gripped her gut, not the usual pangs of hunger, instead, it was as if she had swallowed an iron ball which had struck her stomach all at once.

Dropping to her knees, she began to sob. What strength had shortly filled her fled in an instant of utter loss. She could not… would not do this. It would be different this time. It had to be different this time. Aiden and Lexi were hers to care for, hers to protect, hers to live for, and hers to die for. They could not have them. The Wretching could not have them.

Time lost its meaning for a while as Samantha released the pain that had gathered inside. Each tear seemingly shedding from the dead weight in her gut. Looking upon the stars, she pleaded, “Why did you not come back?’

The tears continued, but as her focus locked upon the brilliance of the moon, her sobbing slowed and then finally ceased.

“I must leave. I must take them away from here.”

Though without anywhere to go and no means to take them, her decision carried the finality of law.

“South. That’s where he went…” her voice trailed off, though the thought gave her direction.

Resolute, Samantha stood quickly and made for home.

 

<> 

 

It had been a brilliant spring day. The sky was painted in a golden hue without so much as a smudge of white to blemish it. At her feet, the emerald carpet was speckled with a myriad of colors where bees were busy preparing their little kingdoms for a new season. Beyond, the barren hulks of northern trees were filled with new life, and that day, Samantha was too. Just at the limit of her sight, the silhouette of the man she loved was departing on a journey of hope. Thomas would find their refuge and return in no more than a month.

A week earlier, a rare traveler, the first in years, had come to town and spoke of a place to the south where people still had food, where life was normal, where people were safe. Enthralled by this seeming paradise, Samantha had urged Thomas to locate this haven upon the river and he had reluctantly agreed.

Rationing what little food and supplies could be scrapped together in a weeks-time, her beloved had departed, a weary expression upon his face. She had smiled, the first time in a long time, and had been filled with butterflies at the thought of finding a somewhere where Aiden and Lexi would be safe.

The timing couldn’t have been better. For months, the anxiety had been growing as the sacrifice neared. She knew that the townsfolk would come for the twins in the fall, and the hopelessness had nearly driven her mad over the winter as the knowledge of the coming sacrifice had eaten away at the last shreds of sanity.

At one point, shortly before the breaking of the new year, she had almost done it herself… Silently, she had stalked through the house, intermittently illuminated by the fractured moonlight. Though the nearly paralyzing chill of winter had bit savagely at her skin, she had moved as if in a trance, her senses numb to both her physical and emotional self. When she had arrived at the twin’s room, she had stood frozen, lurking as if an angel of death in their’ doorway. There she had stood, looming like a thief at the foot of their bed.  With a blade griped in her numb fingers, she had faltered, their beautiful little faces shaking her resolve. She had eventually fled the house that night, weeping bitterly on her knees in the frigid December snow. At some point, she had sobbed herself to sleep, and when a frantic Thomas found her in the woods behind their house, she was near death from the cold, a fate she had secretly wished for in the depths of her forsaken soul.

After that day, Samantha had become nearly comatose, simply going through the motions of survival from day to day. In her mind, she had followed through with her merciful killings and perished under the frigid winter that terrible night, becoming but a spectre in this world.

Then, the traveler had come as if a prophet bearing a message from God and hope was renewed.

 

<> 

 

Like all the other homes that remained occupied in the remnants of Galena, Samantha’s house had become a patchwork of materials over the many years since the collapse. At one time, it had been a lovely mid-eighteenth-century home of river stone and white clapboard siding. The placement upon the bluffs was stunning and held an amazing view of the valley and river below.

Samantha paused for a moment before the door, taking a hard look at what she knew would be her last memory of approaching the house her and Thomas had made into a home. Though it was now a mere shadow of its former self, her little family had made so many memories over the years and the thought of abandoning it was painful.

Just then, there was a single creak from the abandoned neighboring house. Samantha’s heart immediately lurched into life as she spun around. A thunderous throbbing ignited in her ears as she frantically searched the darkness for a shape that would reveal the source of the sound.

“No… they wouldn’t be here already,” she whispered under her breath.

But the sound was distinctive; one of those noises that only a large animal could make, and it had been nearly ten years since the last deer had been sighted…

“Momma, is that you?” comes the muffled voice of Aiden from beyond the nearby window.

Samantha winces at the sudden sound, gasping as ice shoots through her veins. Though her brain recognizes the voice of her little boy, it takes several seconds for this rational understanding to allow her terror to subside.

With a quick turn toward the window, she holds a finger to her lips, locking eyes with Aiden. He smiles and waves, his pale face lit with the excitement only a child has for his returning mother.

Turning sharply back toward the old house, she holds her breath, her senses peaked in anticipation. Again, she thinks she hears the creaking of boards and her ears fix upon what her eyes can’t see.

The seconds tick by in agony until Samantha’s strained senses become over-ridden by the increasing thumping in her ears. This pulsing turns into drumming as the tension nears a breaking point. The world seems to briefly tumble away as her mind races through scenarios of the gaunt townsfolk assaulting in the shadows to take her babies… then, over the thunder in her ears, she thinks she can see the glinting of the moonlight…

“Momma?” Aiden’s sweet little voice suddenly rips her from the nightmare.

Samantha blinks as a bitter wind sweeps across her face, vaulting her into a sudden retreat through the front door. Once inside, she quickly locks and bars the old oak entry, leaning her back against it once finished. There, she remains in silence, her eyes tightly closed, gulping in deep breaths as she attempts to center her mind.

“Momma, what’s wrong?” Aiden’s angelic voice breaks through the pounding in her temples.

As Aiden wraps around her waist, his warmth yanks her back into the present. Opening her eyes, she pulls him into her bosom. Samantha nearly bursts into tears as the tension releases, but instead, tightens her hold on the small form, inhaling deeply and slowly.

“Momma, what’s wrong?” he asks again, his voice muffled in her patchwork coat.

Gathering her strength, she finally replies, “It’s okay baby… everything’s okay.”

Tears well in Samantha’s eyes as she continues to struggle with self-control.  After several more moments holding Aiden close, she finally releases him and straightens her posture. The fear of what will come if she allows herself to break, sends a renewed energy coursing through her veins.

“Aiden, where is your sister?”

 

<> 

 

No one is sure exactly when or where the Wretching began but some of the earliest reported cases were in the most advanced and prosperous cities of the world; back-water communities, it had initially seemed, were far less affected. At first, this had created a panic in the world’s population centers, greatly impacting the efficiency of containment. It was not long, however, before the Wretching’s grasp came to encompass the small towns where its impact proved to be devastating; the smaller populations collapsing within weeks of first contact.

In response to the social chaos infecting humanity, the world government pooled its resources into finding a cause. With this combined effore, scientists were quick to determine that this epidemic was neither bacterial nor viral, instead, it was genetic. Despite this discovery, answers came too late as society cracked at the seams and one by one, the authorities lost control.

When the last vestiges of government collapsed, the power-grid wasn’t long behind, in-fact, proceeding it in many places. In these final chaotic years, humanity poured all that remained into curing the Wretching, and it seemed with every announcement, that the breakthrough was just around the corner. Many held on for just that reason, but it was not to be and when the internet, televisions, and radios went silent, hope died with them.

 

<> 

 

A restored sense of purpose dispelled Samantha’s fear as she frantically gathered the few items she and the children would need and had the ability to carry. She knew full-well that winter was on the quick approach and despite her best effort, they would all likely perish in the harsh wilderness.

Better to die by the hand of nature than upon the butcher blocks of madmen, she thought grimly to herself.

“Momma, why are we leaving?” Lexi inquires weekly at her side; a battered doll clutched against her chest.

“Not now, Lexi,” Samantha replies with a harsher voice than she intended.

“Momma…I’m scared,” comes Lexi’s feeble reply.

The tone of her voice instantly alerts Samantha’s motherly instincts to the fear in her Lexi’s voice. She closes her eyes briefly, fighting back the urge to stop and offer the warmth and protection of her embrace, but this time, her strength holds.

Opening her eyes, Samantha turns quickly to Lexi, “Don’t be afraid, baby, we just need to go… you have to trust me. You trust me, don’t you Lexi?”

Samantha remains motionless for a moment, watching her for a reaction. Lexi was clearly fighting her tears, sniffling them back as she wipes her sleeve across her nose.

“Baby, look at me,” Samantha interrupts.

After a final sob and wiping of her nose, Lexi looks up, her blue eyes twinkling in the light of the lamp.

“Yes, Momma?” she faintly responds.

“Do you trust me, Lexi?”

Looking back toward her feet for just a moment, Lexi returns to her Mother’s face, and in a small, but stronger voice, replies, “Yes, Momma.”

With the first smile in days, Samantha rejoins, “That’s my girl. Now go make sure your brother is bundled up and come right back. Hurry now.”

“Okay, Momma,” Lexi hesitantly but compliantly agrees.

Samantha remains kneeled as her eyes follow Lexi down the hallway to the twin’s room. After she disappears through the doorway, Samantha draws a deep breath and finishes packing her ruck.

Shortly, the little family of refugees is at the front door, ready to go. Samantha looks over Lexi and Aiden, pulling clothes in place and tightening strings before standing up and taking a final gasp.

“Remember, we have to be very quiet, okay?” Samantha reminds in a warm but firm voice.

The little blonde heads nod in unison, their eyes large with excitement and concern.

“Just pretend we are playing hide and seek. How does that sound? Do you think you two can win against the whole town?” Samantha encourages with a false smile and big sweeping arm gestures.

“Okay Momma,” Lexi replies first.

“Is there a prize?” Aiden adds.

With a surprised and sincere chuckle, Samantha returns, “Yes, baby, there is a prize but it’s a secret, okay?”

The little faces light up in response, the fear, and uncertainty seemingly washed-away by the anticipation.

“Okay, now remember, no talking and hold hands tight.”

Again, the pair nod excitedly in reply.

Turning to the door, Samantha grasps the handle and pulls it open. Instantly, her senses are smashed by the frigid breeze and dancing lights…

“No…”

“Samantha,” comes the strong voice of the Mayor.

Standing perhaps 20 feet before her, a posse of townsfolk flank the Mayor with an assortment of lamps and torches in hand. The Mayor seems surprised by her sudden appearance, but his resolve appears fully intact.

“So this is your choice? To run?” his voice is edged with a combination of bitterness and betrayal.

After a disquieting pause, the Mayor continues with disdain dripping from his tongue, “So be it.”

For a moment, Samantha stands paralyzed and dumbfounded. She had not expected them so quickly and her mind races as she struggles with the reality she has just stepped into. Then, the world around her begins to tumble, rocking back and forth, and for a moment, Samantha fights the urge to vomit. Her head continues to swim in this sea of madness until a movement rips her screaming back into the here and now.

Under her breath, Samantha gives the command; “RUN!”

 

<> 

 

While humanity continued to crumble, Earth’s unified scientists frantically worked toward a solution for the Wretching. Early on, several teams around the globe had begun pointing the finger toward Mana but given the critical and absolute role this food-source played in the survival of mankind, many political leaders were reluctant to accept the accusation, having no other means to feed the masses. Instead, the powers that be secretly urged either a re-formulation of Mana or a sort of “vaccine” to guard against the effects of the Wretching.

Initially, most of the victims were the old or infirm, and as such, further fueled the willful ignorance of those small number in a position to know what was happening as it seemed to serve the useful purpose of trimming the excess fat off of society.

Then came the children.

At first, only small numbers of the young and healthy were becoming infected, but a pattern very quickly emerged; around a child’s ninth or tenth birthday, the Wretching would strike. Only these victims, the ones who had consumed Mana from infancy, transformed very rapidly and the result was… very extreme.

 

<> 

 

“You cannot run!” screams the Mayor as Samantha slams the door shut and quickly bars it.

“Momma!” yells Aiden as he grapples her leg.

Despite the terror exploding in her chest, Samantha frantically calculates her move. If she is lucky, the Mayor’s men were just arriving and may have not had the time to send anyone around to the back door…

“Quickly, to the back door!” Samantha orders in as calm of a manner as she can muster.

However, the eight-year-old brains of Aiden and Lexi are frozen in fear. She immediately understands this but knows death is mere moments behind her. Doing the only thing she can think to do, she breaks Aiden free from her side and grasps his hand as she lunges forward, snatching Lexi’s hand as she clears the living room seconds later. From there, the hallway passes two bedrooms and the bathroom before arriving in the crumbling remnants of the diner-style kitchen.

Continuing her charge across the black and white checkered floor, Samantha releases the hands of the twins as she reaches the back door. In that brief instant, she discovers the shocked expression of a red-bearded man beyond the door’s window in the motion of opening it himself. His eyes lock with hers in that ephemeral moment, but Samantha, her adrenaline coursing through her veins, does not change course and instead, barrels through the door, knocking the man to the ground with her momentum as she clears the threshold.

“What the fu-“ a second stunned man, the brother of the one she just threw down, stands directly in her path.

“Thwack.”

The machete Samantha had brought with as her only line of defense, splits into the man’s skull in a spray of blood. Though she does not pause to even consider her action, the warm mist that impacts her face is none-the-less, keenly noticed.

Behind her, Lexi and Aiden scream in near unison, only serving to further aggravate Samantha’s pounding heart, and with it, the searing hormones that course through her veins.

Heaving the blade as the man crumples, Samantha spins around, blindly slashing the machete downward in anticipation of the first man’s attack. She isn’t far from the mark. Despite being knocked to the ground, the curly-haired man had gotten to his knees and was in the motion of lunging at Samantha’s legs as she turned.

“Thuck.”

Again, the old blade finds a target, only this time, it penetrates deeply into the top of his head and given the collision of forces, embeds into his skull. Instinctively, Samantha yanks the machete back as her assailant goes limp, but the blade does not give, and she reflexively releases it to prevent from falling with the man’s weight.

From the front of the house, Samantha can now hear the shouting of the others and in her frantic mind, she deduces there is no time for a second attempt at retrieving the weapon. Instead, her priorities and motherly instinct redirect her back into the kitchen where she grabs the twins’ hands and turns to run.

 

<> 

 

It seemed at first that despite the horrors descending upon the world of man, that the government was regaining control. Martial law was quickly declared, and the military began restoring order as it relocated the population from smaller communities to the major cities where better control could be maintained. Nevertheless, despite every effort to contain the problem, a year after it had begun, the cities were beginning to crumble.

In the beginning, the military began isolating and containing children eight or older as the reality of the danger set in, but in the chaos of the mass relocations, too many were not accounted for and fearful parents began hiding their children.

No one could really fault them; a mother’s love for her child could simply not be broken as was the case with the instinct of the father to defend his offspring. Love is blinding and instinct is powerful. In the end, the last of the social scientists predicted that it was this love… this blinding folly that would destroy humanity.

As the last city fell, six years after the Wretching of the children began, society, and in essence, humanity, fell with it.

 

<> 

 

Aiden was sobbing, his head in Samantha’s lap. Lexi, strong like her Mother, yet still a child, was completely still, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. They had made it into the woods and somehow, someway, they had evaded the mob in the crumbling buildings of Galena, putting some distance between themselves and their pursuers.

At some point, snow had begun to fall, the lite flakes going unnoticed as they fled into the refuge of the pines and firs of the bluffs. After a time, the snow had thickened enough that despite all that was happening, Samantha had become aware of it and the quickly accumulating blanket on the ground.

In the distance, Samantha could still hear the echoes of the angry and starving mob. Occasionally, she would sight the flicker of light between the trees, but she didn’t care; her babies needed a breath.

“God damn them; It won’t be the Wretched that finish off humanity, no… no, we will do that all ourselves,” Samantha curses under her breath.

She notices just then, as she locks unto Lexi’s face, that her eyes almost seem alit in the glow of the moon.

No… I couldn’t be.

Samantha freezes, her breath ceasing as her eyes bore into the small face that looks so much like her own, only now,  the familiar features are disrupted by a glistening yellow hue overtaking the whites of Lexi’s eyes…

 

<> 

 

Eric was barely a month passed his eighth birthday when it began. Most children didn’t turn until late in their ninth year, some even the tenth. He had been early, catching her best friend Emily by complete surprise. The Council wouldn’t even begin checking on him for another six months and usually didn’t take the children away until nine.

Eric’s transformation had been unbelievably fast. The mutations and re-writing of cells were said to be triggered by the increase in hormone levels, and once it began, the Wretching twisted and turned the children of humanity into monsters in a matter of hours.

Truly, the transformation was so fast that when Samantha had arrived that first day, Eric was already unrecognizable. Emily had somehow sedated him before the sickness had fully taken-hold and restrained him to his bed. His once-normal features had elongated and stretched as his body re-wrote it’s DNA until he was something from a nightmare. His pale, almost grey skin had stretched thin over his now lanky musculature. In just hours his body had lengthened considerably, pulling on his muscles and ligaments until he was almost half a foot longer than before. His now sprawling toes had forced apart his battered shoes and his fingernails had grown and sharpened, appearing black like they had been battered by a hammer. Worst still, was his face; the elongation and graying of his features combined with rapid hair loss made him virtually unidentifiable. As terrifying as all this was, what had truly gripped her heart in fear was when he had briefly and groggily opened his eyes; the cat-like yellow removing any trace of humanity from his features.

Eventually, people began asking questions about Eric’s sudden absence until one day, they came for him. Emily had stood her ground, barricading herself inside her little house and before the end, set fire to the tinderbox she called a home. That had been the day when it had all come crashing down upon Samantha, and the harsh reality of her babies’ fate was cemented in her mind.

 

<> 

 

The approaching echoes of voices suddenly yank Samantha’s mind back into the present.

“D****t,” Samantha curses under her breath.

Lexi, sitting close by while Aiden lay his head on Samantha’s lap, looks up suddenly and meets Samantha’s gaze, “Mama?”

“Yes, baby, it’s time to go.”

Kissing the top of Aiden’s head, she gently raises his chin until her eyes met his… and she froze. His too, seemed to have that glint of yellow and the pupils… No, it couldn’t be; the moonlight was simply playing tricks on her mind and who could blame her with all that was happening? No, it wouldn’t take her babies; she wouldn’t let it.

“Aiden, I need you to be a big strong man now… can you do that for Momma?” she asks with gentle encouragement.

Still sniffling, he nods his head and stands up.

“Yes, Momma,” he quietly whimpers.

“That’s my Aiden,” Samantha responds, giving him a quick hug. “Quickly now, we must run.”

“But Momma, where are we going?” quizzes Lexi.

Pausing for just a moment to formulate a response for something she does not possess an answer, “We are going where your Father went… where the Prophet said there was hope.”

At the mention of their’ Father, the twin's expression instantly transforms from one of fear and terror to one of hope and even joy.

“Really, Momma?” Aiden excitedly replies.

“Yes, baby. Now we must run.”

 

<> 

 

The arrival of the Prophet had taken Galena by storm. The mysterious traveler was well-dressed and outfitted, healthy and fit. The people of Galena were so accustomed to the endemic poverty of humanity and gaunt frames of its remnant that the Prophet’s well-fed frame truly made him an attraction.

Regardless of the Prophet’s level of fitness and quality gear, it was his message that resonated most deeply with the townsfolk; a message of salvation. His brand of faith, however, spoke nothing of the supernatural or afterlife, instead, it was a gospel of rebirth in the here and now. He spoke of a town where humans lived in peace, raised families and had plenty. In this tangible heaven, the power was on, order was restored, and medicine had triumphed over the Wretching. It seemed too good to be true, but it was difficult to dispute a man who seemed to have come from a different world then the one they lived in.

All too soon, however, the Prophet would meet his biblical end at the hands of the Council. Fear, it seems, is always lurking beneath the surface, and when the Prophet announced he would lead everyone to this utopia from whence he had come, the Mayor and his cronies had struck him down without warning.

For Samantha, the Mayor’s claims of a malevolent infiltrator leading the people to slaughter did not matter. For her, hope had sprung and despite the odds against it, she reasoned it was better to try on the off chance it was all real than to wait for the inevitable fate awaiting her precious twins.

 

<> 

 

After hours of frantically scrambling through the increasingly dense pine, the wind had intensified, ushering in the bitter cold of the northern night. Despite the discomfort and fatigue setting in, Samantha pushed ever onward, her fear driving her deeper into the unknown.

Eventually, the sounds of her pursuers had been lost in the howling wind and she dared to hope that they had evaded the Mayor and his butchers. At the urging of Lexi and Aiden, she had allowed the pace to slacken for a time.

“This way! Footprints; they can’t be far!” came a harsh voice reverberating off the trees.

With the growing layer of white blanketing the ground between the pines, she suddenly realized it was all but impossible to hide their passing. With this reality settling upon her, the cold seemed to suddenly become unbearable and the pain in her feet too much to push through.  

“Momma… I don’t feel good,” a panting Aiden whimpered beside Samantha.

With a labored breath, Samantha replied in a meager voice, “Oh know baby…”

“They are not far! I think I can see them!” a voice near behind broke Samantha’s words.

The branches seemed to close in upon her, the snow stifling her breath. Accompanying this dizzying sensation, the very forest itself was collapsing upon her, and her vision began to swim as she pushed blindly forward.

“Stop, Samantha!” the Mayor’s voice pierced the howling wind.

“Momma!” came Lexi’s breathless reply.

Samantha, her mind and body faltering stumbled, and then she was crashing into the ground.

“Momma! Momma!” came the chorus of shrieks.

Cra-crack!

A thundering gunshot tears through the very fabric of the air forcing a rapid retreat of the oppressive forces crushing Samantha. In this splinter in time, her senses re-ignite, bringing the dark hulks of the forest and swirling white of the snow clearly into focus,

Quickly rolling over and propping herself on her knees, three figures appear perhaps twenty feet before her, blurred in the swirl of dancing snowflakes. The trio are frozen by the sudden noise, but the man in the center staggers, pitching to his knees. At first, Samantha stares at him dumbfounded and for a moment, the Mayor’s eyes lock with hers. But the moment is ever so brief as his eyes roll back in his head, breaking the gaze. Within the dancing white flakes, brilliant as diamonds in the moonlight, a dark stain emerges, rapidly growing across her tormentor’s chest.

“Run!” a deep male voice causes Samantha to lurch.

“Run! He screams again as his form passes by her.

For a moment, Samantha does not even so much as a breath, the rapid succession of events combined with complete physical and emotional fatigue having nearly paralyzed her.

The newcomer, well-dressed in un-mottled winter clothes, lunges at the man to the Mayor’s left, the butt of his shotgun cracking into his forehead with a sickening thud. In a swift motion, he spins toward the other attacker, and in Samantha’s daze, the flame erupting from the barrel of the gun seems to wash across her entire vision before the crack of the shot impacts her remaining senses milliseconds behind it.

“Run!” he screams again, but this time, Samantha’s mind bursts to life.

“Thomas!” she screams, her heart leaping in her chest.

As the third man collapses to the ground, he turns to face her. There, in the fog of her nightmare, was Thomas. His face, hard and intense, softens as their eyes meet, and for that brief instant in time, her heart reignites, awash in emotions.

“Samantha… I found it…” Thomas begins.

“Cra-crack!

Thomas’s eyes blink instantly wide, his voice catching in his throat.

Around her, Aiden and Lexi shriek in unison.

“Thomas…” she screams with a stuttered blink.

“Run,” he exhales, a dark streak trickling from the corner of his mouth.

As he crashes to the ground in a seeming earth-shattering thunder, Samantha’s mind fights to comprehend all that has happened. Next to her, the small forms of Lexi and Aiden cling to either arm, their surprisingly throaty voices sobbing…

Then, through chaos and confusion, pain and loss, the sound finally registers in her crumbling mind and she turns her head to peer into the face of Aiden.

“My babies…” she manages under her breath.

A tear breaks free from her eyes as she recognizes the gaunt, grayish skin… the yellowed eyes… the wispy strands of hair upon rapidly balding heads… the Wretching.

Samantha trembles as equal parts of terror and remorse grip her soul.

“Momma…” Aiden’s voice cracks in an almost low growl.

In the trees before them, more figures emerge.

This is it, Samantha thinks to herself in resignation.  It is all over… it is all gone…

Then, with ghastly screeches, the twins bolt forward, moving like bounding apes. Their shrill screams follow them into the woods where it is at first joined by the cries of fear, then the sounds of agony, and then, the finality of silence.

While the twins slaughter their pursuers, Samantha begins to openly sob, clasping her hands together and lowering her head in utter defeat. After a short time, the ringing in her ears combined with the outburst of emotion, wash away the horrific sounds emanating from the forest.

In Samantha’s shattered mind, time loses all meaning, but at some point, she realizes that silence has overtaken her with naught but the gentle patter of falling snowflakes.

However, this surreal moment does not last when, the crunching of snow re-ignites the pounding of Samantha’s heart. From both sides come the unique sound of humans bounding on all four. Samantha remains frozen with her head lowered and eyes tightly closed, too afraid to face her worst fear. After circling her slowly for several moments, the sounds stop just before Samantha and her heart freezes in anticipation…

“Momma…”

 

About the Author

JM VanZuiden was born and raised in the upper Midwest in a small farm town. After two years attending a local community college, JM joined the US Army at age 21 being stationed at Fort Hood, Texas. He deployed with the US Army’s 1st Cavalry Division to Iraq in 2004 for Operation Iraqi Freedom, where he experienced combat first-hand. JM resides in Illinois with his wife of eighteen years and four children where he works as a Veterans Service Officer during the day and writes dark fantasy and horror stories by night.

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[JM VanZuiden]

Author's Note: This was a fun, fast, and furious write. The inspiration was simple with Samantha being modeled after my wife, Ayla. Galena, the setting for the story, is a real place in northwestern Illinois that I have fond memories of from my youth. I hope you all enjoy this work and consider leaving a review!