Valentine

When the Immolator demon opened its gaping chest and bathed the hallway in fire, I was lucky enough to be by an open door, and dove into a small bathroom just in time to take cover. Those behind me, however, were not as fortunate.

As the fire and bits of molten rock poured down the hall, Joey didn’t move to the side, but turned around and ran. This might have been less of a terrible idea, had he not been wearing the gas tank for his flamethrower on his back.

But he was.

A chunk of lava hit the tank as he retreated, and it was a matter of four seconds before it burned through, and into the fuel.

The Immolator crossed in front of the door I watched out of just before the explosion, but I felt it vibrate through the house. Joey… didn’t even get to scream, but I heard a few others cry out as heat and shrapnel burst through the house.

I tried to push from my mind the chaos, the death, and stood shakily from where I’d taken cover on the floor. The Immolator had walked right past me in its pursuit, and I was in a perfect position behind it now. My axe felt lighter with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and I lifted it over my head. On the other side of the demon, I heard Uncle Sean shouting for someone to get down, and I heard the Immolator click once.

I brought my axe down.

The Immolator screamed the sound of a forest burning, and started jerking under my axe. I started to tug on the handle, but the blade wouldn’t budge. Slowly, starting from where it was lodged in the demon’s back, my axe began to glow red. I yanked harder, kicking out at the demon, but before I could free my weapon, the metal of the handle was burning my hands, and I let go with a yelp.

The Immolator spun on me faster than I could have imagined, and I fell back in surprise. It was the closest I’d ever been to one before, and if it hadn’t been emitting the heat of a forge, a shiver would have run up my spine. It’s head looked like a carnival mask, except all black, with the features a burning, ember red. The head sat atop a casket shaped body, and its three legs extended from just below the glowing chest.

The glowing chest that was opening with three, slow clicks.

I rolled into the bathroom again, but didn’t quite miss the heat. A chunk of glowing rock stuck to the back of my shoes, and it burned my heel as I kicked it out. I heard the demon take a step down the hall, and in a panic, threw the flimsy door shut behind me. It wouldn’t hold for long, and there wasn’t even a shower I could hide in, or a window to break out of. I was cornered.

I heard the Immolator stop outside the door, and a gunshot from someone in the group as they tried to lead it away. And then I heard a bang as the demon threw itself against the bathroom door. I looked around the bathroom, seeing nothing but a rusted toilet and sink, and a raggy towel.

My mind formed a half-assed plan, ignoring the next blow to the door, and I pulled the towel off the rack. A brief, silent prayer flew through my mind, asking whatever deities were still listening to let the damn faucet work, and then I turned the handle.

A low rumbling sounded from somewhere beneath the bathroom floor, drowned out by the screams of the Immolator as it readied its next attack, but not before I heard the gush of water shooting up through the pipes. This time, when the demon mauled the door, it smashed through the top half so that its head and chest were in the bathroom. It made its first of three clicks a half second before water shot from the faucet. I had the towel under the water and soaked by the time it clicked again, and when it clicked the third time and began opening its glowing red chest, I threw the towel straight into the fire.

The Immolator roared when the wet rag hit its core, and to add to the fire, I pushed my thumb against the faucet and sprayed more water in its direction. It flailed away, so that it was facing down the hallway again, and when it did, whoever had been shooting at it before opened fire into its chest, effectively breaking whatever quantified as a heart to the creature, and killing it at last.

I watched the monster topple forward, relieved that it hadn’t fallen back onto my axe, and then glanced down the hallway toward the front door. The walls were scorched, but not ablaze, and the floor was mostly intact; the worst damage was in places molten rock had burnt through the rug where the wood floor was still lightly smoldering.

Uncle Sean leaned against the wall with his emergency AK, standing primarily on one leg as the other bled onto the floorboards. Big Greg clutched his arm, a pistol in his good hand. The two others that had been with Joey were nowhere to be seen and Joey… Well, the funeral pyre wouldn’t take long.

I swallowed hard and looked to Uncle Sean again, whose hazel eyes were red from the explosion. Scratch that, his whole face was red with heat burn, but he was alive, and for that, I almost believed the heavens hadn’t completely abandoned us.

“You okay?” I rasped, feeling for the first time through my adrenaline rush the slight burn of smoke in my lungs.

“Mostly,” he said, “but I don’t know how I’ll travel on this leg.”

“And Joey?”

He didn’t need me to elaborate to know what I was asking.

“Gone in an instant.”

I nodded, sorting myself after the whole encounter, before stepping out of the bathroom. I flicked a little water from the sink onto the handle of my axe, and when it didn’t sizzle, and grabbed it, and with some effort, ripped it free.

“Everywhere else clear?” I wondered.

“No one’s been upstairs yet,” Big Greg coughed. “Most of the search squad…” He trailed off and glanced outside. I walked to the front door, stepping over the fading corpse of the Immolator as I went, to see the other two members of the main squad lying in the grass. One, Miranda, looked pretty toasted on her midsection and thighs, but stable. Brent, the other, wasn’t conscious.

“I’ll clear upstairs,” I said after taking in the state of the rest of the crew. “There shouldn’t be more than one. Immolators tend to run alone.”

“You can’t go alone,” Uncle Sean protested, but almost fell when he tried to step away from the wall. “At least take someone.”

“I’ll go,” Camilla volunteered, but was immediately shut down by several of the group.

“I will go,” Mama Homes said, “and I’ll hear nothing of it. Can someone help Sean and Greg? We’ll need to take care of Joey, as well.”

I tried not to look at his remains as I made my way to the stairs with Mama. I’d seen enough people I cared about dead that you’d think I’d be used to it, but it never really got easier. Each burned a permanent place in my mind, some more literally than others.

The upstairs was clear, as I’d guessed, and by the time we made it back down, someone had moved Joey’s remains out to a wood pile behind the house. In our version of the apocalypse, corpses were usually burned to avoid Reanimator demons from sliding their stick bug-like bodies into their remains and turning dead peers into dangerous flesh puppets. We didn’t really need to do that with what was left of Joey, but it would have felt wrong to leave what was left of him to rot.

The pyre burned hot from the dry logs left baking for days in the sun. Joey wouldn’t have wanted us to stand around moping all night anyway. When we moved inside, we stayed out of the main entrance, as there was no reason to spend time cleaning blood off the walls of a one night stop, but also no desire to be surrounded by the seared remains of someone we cared about. There was plenty enough food from the last stop that we were all able to eat, but nothing more in the current house to add to our supplies.

After dinner, we sat in a cramped circle in the kitchen. The backup generator lit a single bulb, casting a dull light onto everyone’s grim faces.

“We can’t travel like this on foot,” Uncle Sean said, speaking aloud the words no one wanted to hear. “Not all of us. My right leg is shot. Miranda can barely stand. Brent will live, but no way he can travel. And Greg can walk, but he’s down an arm.”

“We’re not leaving you, if that’s where you’re going with this,” I said, and sat up in my seat. “We stay together. The whole group.”

“You’re not leaving us for good,” Big Greg said hoarsely. “We need help you all can’t provide us.”

“No,” I began, but Mama House cut in.

“It’ll only be for a few days,” she reassured, and I turned to glare at her.

“You would leave four of our own behind?” I demanded. Behind me, Camilla touched my arm, but I shrugged it off.

“I would stay, as would those in our group with medical training,” she said. “You and those who can travel would go on.”

“The Standing City is only four days out, and that’s traveling with the whole group,” Uncle Sean added. “You and a few others could make it faster.”

“Who would stay?” Shelly, a single mother of two asked. Her kids sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her. “It’s not safe to go without our fighters.”

“We would need to split into two groups,” Mama Homes began. “Medical crew, injured, and the vulnerable would stay here. We’d keep some of the guns to protect the house, and most of the food. Those who can fight, or at least travel fast and run if needed, would go ahead to the city.”

“And who will navigate?” I snapped. “Frankly, it sounds like you already decided this before we started talking.”

“We don’t have time for inaction,” Greg said. “You have to get to the city and get help. You’re the only one left of the main squad in fighting shape.”

I stared at him, searching for any hesitance or doubt, but his gaze was steady as it met mine, and finally, I nodded.

“We can set out at dawn,” I agreed, feeling a lump forming in my throat. “Whoever is coming needs to be ready to travel fast. I want to make this trip in three days max.”

“I’m coming,” Camilla piped, and as much as I would usually argue with her, I would need her near me, where I could at least try and protect her, and not with a group of injured waiting for a rescue party.

“Good. Whoever else is coming better be ready at the ass crack of dawn, or I will leave you behind.” I turned to Big Greg and sighed. “You’ll need to lend me your map.”

“I’ll tell you everything I can on how to get there tonight,” he agreed. “And then we rest. You have a long few days ahead.”