It struggled to raise its head from the ground and thrashed about like a child throwing a tantrum. I had it pinned however and my fingers were wrapped around either side of its head, pushing back, keeping its teeth from tasting the flesh it so desperately craved.
The screams had stopped now, but I was peripherally aware of Carl still shouting my name again and again, his calls punctuated by gunfire.
At some point during the struggle, my thumbs had slid up the leathery cheeks and slipped into the soft pulp of the eyes. It felt like they were sinking into Jell-O that had frozen just enough that an icy film covered the top. But then there was a slight pop and my thumbs went deeper into the skull, hooking around the eye sockets as something cold and wet seeped into the cloth of my mittens.
But still the creature fought, gnashing its teeth as it flailed its head in an attempt to break free from my clutches. The muscles in my arms had begun to quiver and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold it at bay. Sooner or later, exertion would take its toll. My throbbing muscles would give out, perhaps for no more than a second. But that’s all it would take.
But then, as suddenly as if it had materialized from the snow itself, a brown boot blurred by in front of me. It struck the rotter’s face with enough force that my thumbs flared with pain as they slipped away from the eye sockets. The boot lifted and for a fraction of a second I could see the things crushed face, its features mangled to the point that it looked like a macabre version of a Picasso painting; but then the boot came down again and again and I could hear the skull shattering as I crab-walked backward as quickly as I could.
Doc’s face was filled with rage as he stomped over and over, his eyes large and round, teeth clenched together, and his entire body quaked as if he were having a seizure.
“Stupid rotting son of bitch!”
Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled and he was now jumping up and down on the thing’s face with both feet.
“I hate you! I hate all of you! Why can’t you just leave us the fuck alone?”
Tears had begun dribbling from the corners of his eyes and the thing had long since stopped moving, its head no more than a pulpy mess forced deep into snow coated with gore. But he continued jumping, stomping, shouting, with hands balled into fists.
“Just fucking die already, damn it! Just die…. ”
Eventually his rage spent itself and Doc crumbled to his knees, pressing his face into his hands as his back hitched with sobs. The whiteout had passed us by and I could now see that we were only twenty yards or so from the edge of town. Several corpses were sprawled across the snow and Carl was hunkered down near one of them. At first, I thought he was going through its pockets like he always did, but then I noticed that he’d pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it like a man trying to coax away a headache.
His body seemed slumped and weary as he shook his head slowly. He looked over his shoulder for a moment, back toward the stretcher where Sadie was just now staggering to her feet. Something about this seemed to ignite a powder keg of anger within him; he began punching the snow, pummeling the dunes with his fists as he growled like a pissed off jungle cat.
I then noticed that the other corpses seemed to form something of a ring around this one. Almost as if it were the epicenter of the attack. And the snow surrounding it was bright red with tendrils of steam still curling from the splatter.
Sophie tottered over to where Carl was and I heard a wail tremble from within her that words could never begin to describe. But I can say how it made me feeclass="underline" hearing that old woman’s voice made me feel as if there were no more hope for mankind. That we’d had our day in the sun and thrived for much longer than any creature has the right to; but now we were at the end and there was nothing left for us out there in the world we once ruled. Nothing but despair and sadness and a chasm waiting to be filled with blood and tears.
She was on her knees now as well, her body splayed across the corpse as if she could somehow infuse it with some of her own life force. As if the heat from her fever could thaw the muscles that were beginning to stiffen. As if she would only lay with him long enough, he would reach up and stroke her hair one final time.
I realized then that I, too, was crying and I wanted to go to Sadie and take her in my arms. I wanted to press her frail body against mine and let her cry until it seemed as if she would never cry again. But, somehow, I couldn’t force myself to get up out of the snow; it almost seemed that if I did this, then it would prove what my mind so desperately didn’t want to believe: Watchmaker was dead. And he wasn’t coming back. At least not in any form we wanted him too.
I’m not sure how long I stayed there, but eventually I wandered over to where Watchmaker’s body lay. Doc had already joined them and Sadie was draped across Carl’s arms, her face buried into his shoulder, sobbing softly.
“I’m sorry, Doc. I just can’t do it. Not this time.”
Carl’s voice sounded strained and his eyes seemed to plead with his friend.
“I just… I just can’t.”
Doc placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head slowly.
“It’s okay, buddy. You get these ladies to town. I’ll be along shortly.”
Without being told, I took Carl’s pistol from the waistband of his pants and we began trudging through the snow and toward the little town ahead. We walked in silence, each of us lost within our own thoughts as Carl’s jacket soaked up Sadie’s tears.
Snow covered fields gave way to streets that had layers of ice hidden beneath the white blanket and we picked our steps carefully; our eyes scanned the signs outside of businesses watching for one that either read MD or RX.
As we turned a corner, a single shot rang out and Sadie screamed as she burrowed her face further into Carl’s shoulder. He opened his mouth as if to say something; but if there were any words that could help alleviate some of the suffering within the old woman he carried, they wouldn’t come. All he could do was hold her even more tightly as he glanced at me through eyes that shimmered behind a veil of tears.
Watchmaker was gone and Doc had ensured his body would not rise up again. He wouldn’t pursue the woman he’d spent decades building a life with, wouldn’t taint her memories of him as he fought to claw his way through his flesh. And this, perhaps, was the greatest comfort we could have possibly given her. The comfort of remembering him as he truly was….
We ended up finding a supply of amoxicillin and prescription strength ibuprofen in a drugstore that looked as if a bomb had been detonated within it. Shelves had been overturned and products were scattered across the floor: curling irons, printer paper, disposable cameras, and bottles of talc that had burst open and spilled piles of white powder out of their mouths. In the corner someone had apparently made a fire at one point for the walls and ceiling were covered with dark stains of soot and the carpet had melted in a radius around a pile of ashes. Scrawled across the wall in black magic marker were the words Helenboro overrun. Scott’s Bluff infested. DO NOT GO!
Doc had rejoined the group by this point and the three of us sorted through the mounds of pills and tablets that littered the pharmacy section while Sadie curled into a tight ball nearby. Her tears had dried up by then and she simply lay there, staring at the wall with an expression on her face as blank as the fields of snow outside.