Chapter 27
The Multitude
Sally was woken by a warm, soft hand gently caressing her back. She smiled and turned over.
“That’s nice,” she purred.
Then she realised it wasn’t a dream, and quickly sat up in her bed with a start.
“Who’s that?”
“Shhh … it’s me, Dylan.”
Sally looked around the dark church and saw that almost everybody was still asleep. She rubbed her eyes and squinted at Dylan who was sitting on the edge of her bed dressed in his usual black. “God, what time is it?” she whispered.
“It’s 5:30. Get up, I want to show you something.”
“What’s wrong? It’s the middle of the night.”
“No it’s not,” he replied with a smile. “Come on, get dressed. I’ll meet you out the front.” And with that, he left.
She had pulled on some clothes and went to the front of the church where Dylan was waiting on the steps.
“I was having a lovely sleep, until you ruined it.”
“I could tell. Who was he?”
“How long were you watching me?” she asked, as her cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
“Long enough to tell that you’ve got a thing for a boy somewhere.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” she said, trying to change the subject. “What have you got me out here for anyway?”
“I want you to see this so you’ll know what we’re up against when you come out with me today.”
He took Sally by the hand and led her through the big arched door and into the front garden of the church. The only sound was the hum of the generators as they powered the arc lights that had been set up inside the fence. Beside each light a man or woman with a weapon was standing guard. The front of the church had been built facing straight down Celebration Boulevard so that the church would be the first thing you saw as soon as you entered the grand street. The lights were effective, and threw a small ocean of brilliance out into the darkness, making the whole scene look ghostly and surreal. Objects that were close stood out in high definition, like a permanent flash photograph, but further down the street it was as if a huge black curtain had been lowered. Dylan leaned closer to Sally and pointed into the darkness. “Check it out.”
Sally peered into the distance, but shook her head. “I can’t see anything. What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“Look into the dark. Once you see it, you’ll know what it is.”
Sally squinted her eyes. “No. All I can see is … oh my god! Are they …?”
“Yeah. Pretty insane huh?”
In the darkness, just beyond the light, stood a wall of the creatures. They were stared at the church, and if it weren’t for the occasional movement as one jostled another Sally didn’t think she would be able see them at all.
“How many are there?”
“We can’t be sure. Maybe thousands.”
Sally was horrified. She knew that the human population was well and truly dwarfed by these zombie-like creatures, but she never really understood what that meant in sheer weight of numbers. The church, which had felt so secure when she first arrived, now seemed like a tiny island surrounded by a tide that was rising every day.
“Do they try to get in?” she asked, worried now.
“Not since we set the lights up. The first night was terrible. There were only a few of us and we locked ourselves in here before dark, but as soon as the sun went down they came from everywhere. A lot of them turned on each other, but most of them swarmed around the fence. Quite a few tried to climb over, but it’s not a very easy task, so only two of them were able to make it to the top. Luckily a couple of us had guns, so we shot them. We had to stand guard all night. The next day we went out and got the lights. I think we’d be in trouble without them.”
Sally shuddered, as she imagined the lights going out. “How long will they stay out there?”
“You’re about to find out. Look.” He pointed to the east where Sally could see the slightest pink tinge to the sky. “As soon as the sky starts to lighten up a bit they get moving. They don’t all go at once though. Some seem to be braver than the others and leave it until the last minute."
Sally looked at the creatures, now slightly more visible in the improving light, and sure enough; some were already creeping off into the dark, deserted streets.
“In fifteen minutes they’ll all be gone.” Dylan stated as he walked her back inside to help begin preparing breakfast.
At the breakfast table peopled talked about the jobs that needed to be done for the day ahead. Dylan wasn’t the only one systematically exterminating the creatures; there were two other groups going about the same grisly task in designated areas. When a team cleaned out a building, they would mark the front of it with a big pink, spray-painted symbol - “NZSJ”, which meant “No Zombies. St Jude’s”. It was to save other groups of exterminators from wasting time searching in places that had already been cleared. It was also a signal for the second part of the clean-up team, who would eventually arrive and remove the bodies. Sally was amazed that this tiny band of survivors was prepared to take on such an overwhelming task, but she realised that these people loved their city just as much as she did and weren’t prepared to surrender to these violent monsters. They argued that if all of the groups like theirs around the city joined in and did their part, then one day they might be able to rebuild their little part of the world into a safe and productive community.
There were other crews too. People in the church were rostered to clean, cook, wash clothes, look after smaller children or scavenge in deserted shops for supplies. As they talked through their chores for the day, Sally noticed two distinct types within the group. One group was talkative, active and wanted to get things done, despite the horrors they had lived through, while the other was struggling with their grief. They barely spoke, didn’t want to eat, and spent most of the day lying on their beds. Looking at them, Sally wondered how many survivors around the city had committed suicide in the days after the event.
Not all of the survivors in this big city, however, were interested in the common good. Sally learned from her breakfast companions that since the event, some of the groups were more like criminal gangs in the way they behaved. It seemed that, just like in the old world, bad people gravitated towards each other. The people at St Jude’s had dubbed these 'marauders' and warned Sally to be on the lookout while she was out with Dylan during the day. While their numbers were smaller, they compensated by the rage they displayed. Mr Ash described them as psychotic dogs who had been let off their leash. Another man at the table told of how a pair of marauders had ambushed him and two female travelling companions. After beating him almost unconscious and leaving him for dead, they shot the older of the two women and carried the other one away with them. He never saw her again. The evidence of this man’s ordeal was documented clearly in the bruises and swelling on his face. Those marks would eventually fade, but Sally doubted the haunted look in his eyes would.
After breakfast, when the sun had risen, Sally and Dylan headed out into the streets. As they passed through the front gates of the church an armed man, who was sitting in a fold-up picnic chair, recorded their names and their planned time of return in a large book. Every human life at St Jude’s was precious now and he wished them luck as they returned to the realm of the night feeders.
Dylan had equipped Sally with a strong flashlight, a small automatic pistol (which was only to be used in an emergency), and a can of pink spray paint. He gave her a quick lesson with the firearm once they were in an isolated spot away from the church, but was very clear that for today she was an observer only, which was fine with her. She was more than satisfied to leave the killing to him. In fact, she was pretty terrified about the whole experience. Yesterday when she had said yes to this adventure, it seemed abstract and manageable. In the cold light of day, however, she was beginning to regret the whole idea. After all, these creatures that Dylan would b
e executing were once people. How would she feel, for example, if they needed to exterminate a pregnant woman? She tried to put these thoughts out of her mind as they walked side by sided through the empty city streets.
Dylan tried to prepare her for the tough day ahead by giving her as much information as she could handle. “Did you notice anything about that group of zombies outside the fence this morning?” he asked.
“Just that they freaked me out. Why?”
“How would you describe them, as a demographic group?”
“What do you mean, like age and gender?”
“Exactly. Anything jump out at you?”
She tried to visualise the group of creatures that had been hovering on the edge of the light just a couple of hours ago. “No, I can’t think of anything in particular. What about them?”
“Well, we’ve been studying them and it seems like they’re almost all young and healthy. Mostly male too.”
“What’s the relevance of that? Isn’t it just because all of the older, slower ones were killed in the first couple of days?”
Matt looked at her. “Yeah, we said that too, but we think there’s something else. We think they might be developing some kind of social structure. The stronger ones are putting themselves into more danger. They’re taking charge. Becoming leaders maybe? They just seem to be drifting into it like it’s natural. Anyway, it’s just a theory. It’s too early to tell I suppose.”
Sally told Dylan about the pack behaviour she’d noticed in the group below her balcony a couple of nights earlier.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Let’s hope we’re wrong. If these things get organised, we'll have some real problems.”
Then, without fanfare, Dylan stopped and pointed to a plain looking, office block.
“Here we are,” he said. “Let’s kill some zombies.”