Chapter II
The First Trek
(Following the map given to me by SFC Ret. Michael Jordan, I arrive at a bar called "Peaches" off of Duval Street in Key West Florida. It is the ninth in a series of stops along Dante's first trek across the barren wasteland that was the eastern United States during the war. Most of the Blue Zones listed on his map are gone. Either they were abandoned, overrun during the war, or disbanded after Reclamation. Still, Key West looks promising. The owner of the bar an elegant-looking woman of about fifty that goes by the same name, meets me at a table. A snap of her fingers brings plates of local fare along with fruity rum drinks. I note the vacation/relaxation atmosphere has almost returned fully to Key West, but signs of the past are never far off. Beneath our table there are empty slots for undead defense weapons. Tossing back sun-blonde hair and flashing a dazzling smile that plays in sparkling blue eyes, she shakes my hand heartily before we dig into our conch fritters and fries.)
I never thought I would have the opportunity to tell this story to anyone other than the patrons at this bar. When I first started telling it, no one believed me, even with the backing of all the people that were here. What exactly do you want to know?
Everything you want to tell me.
Okay, I'll start by telling you how the Conch Republic was back then. We had a decent population of people. Not so many mainlanders, which I always thought was odd. I guess when stories of zombies walking out of the ocean hit the airwaves, people didn't like the idea of being in a place where there was nowhere to run. Being a potential beachhead for zombie invasion, the Keys were evacuated during the Panic, the same as if a hurricane was coming. When the US adopted the South African Plan we started migrating back because it was safer here than on land. In the interim, the government had taken it upon themselves to demolish the Overseas Highway so we were completely cut off from the continent but not necessarily from each other. The ocean down here is shallow and calm for the most part so getting around by boat was easy enough. We were even able to communicate across some of the smaller gaps.
Anyway, we set about organizing ourselves, establishing trade between islands, planting more fruit trees and vegetable gardens. Plus, we organized fishing so that we didn't deplete any one area. With that established, we set up security. We may be Bohemian, but stupidity is not included in that lifestyle. We knew that one day a ghoul could come walking up out of the drink and we needed plans for when that happened. We had boats with nets, and we had poles, and we had knives.
What we did was we sent out decent sized boats, anything less than fifteen feet wouldn't do. A couple of ghouls could tip even a ten-foot boat and then the crew would be Zack food. The boats would go out and patrol the island on the shallow sides of the reefs or just among the sea grass. They'd look for a ghoul and when they found one, they'd hook it, bring it up just enough so that they could kill it then tow it back to shore where we would burn it. On shore we'd have people on bicycles, and on foot going around the edge of the island. If they spotted a ghoul, they'd raise an alarm and then the community would gather en masse and take out the fucker or fuckers.
We patrolled twenty-four hours a day. Shore patrol was easy during the day for obvious reasons. Night fishing was even easier since all one had to do was take the boat out to a decent depth and light a few torches. Ghouls would eventually show up to be hooked and whacked. In the beginning we were getting them pretty steady and had to burn just about every day. After that, it died down so to speak. Then life kind of moved into a sort of rhythm.
You'd wake up and go down to the beach to bathe, head off to whatever task you were assigned, work until lunch. Mosey on over to the community kitchen to get something to eat, maybe bullshit and lollygag for a while before going back to work and then heading home for the night. Everyone had a job to do depending on what they knew how to do, but then everyone was security when the alarm got raised. I've been awoken many a time in the middle of the night having to go out and crush something's skull. Other than that, I was a gardener. I grew carrots, tomatoes, onions, and oranges. Everyone seems to think that we on this side of the Wall suffered. Here it wasn't so bad.
Now the day Dante showed up changed all of that. I was washing on the beach when this decrepit piece of shit boat comes into the bay from the east. Its engine is choke-chugging along and then dies. I can see someone in the wheelhouse looking at me through binoculars. I'm not dressed so I flip them the bird and go for my sarong. I figure whoever it is can stare at my tits all they want but a view of my ass is provided only with my permission. The guy on the boat drops anchor in the way wrong place and then jumps over the side. For a moment I don't think he's going to come back up, he had this big metal thing on his back, but then he does.
He comes splashing out of the water wearing this black poncho, a leather biker suit that had clearly seen better days, and these boots that had to weigh a ton especially with the water. The bastard was fortunate that he didn't drown. He smiles at me and scans my tits for a second before staring me in the eye and asking me if I was alone. I'm thinking that he's looking for some forced ass and I might have to kick his but then he looks past me to a friend of mine and walks by without another word.
It was eerie. First I'm afraid that this Mandingo warrior is going to rape me and then I'm almost offended that he didn't. He waves to my friend, a guy named Tom from Marathon Key and heads out of the water. They shake hands while I stand pissed that I'm not being ravaged. I can see what he's telling Tom is important because Tom's expression, one that usually has this goofy grin on it, is melting off his face and becoming as serious as I had ever seen it. The new guy is pointing in my direction but I can figure it's something beyond me. Tom starts waving frantically for me to come out of the water, then he ushers our new friend away from the beach and towards the center of town.
What did he say?
I didn't find out for another couple of hours. Everyone got pulled in except for the patrols. We all gathered outside of the town hall. Dante was standing up on the steps with his hands clasped in front of him, just waiting and saying nothing while people shot questions at him. "What's going on in the continent?" "Is it true that the government has abandoned everyone?" "Have they got the problem under control?" Then Shanice, the unofficially elected Mayor of Key West, comes out and holds her hands up. Back then, she was about my age now and had a kind of presence that demanded respect. Even Dante took notice and gave her his undivided attention.
It turned out that a tanker from one of the islands south of us had run aground against a reef and its hull had split. Dante had come across it a day before. He had boarded it looking for supplies. Apparently he had been aboard his piece of shit boat for almost two weeks following the coastline south. Anyway, he found this tanker and had boarded it after watching it for a while. He said that he checked its decks for signs of people and found a little bit of food and some medical supplies.
He said that when he went to search the cargo hold he found zombies, hundreds of zombies sealed inside a hold that was leaking. He said the other holds were completely flooded and if the one hold he could access was any indication, the others would have been just as full. Can you imagine that? Walking around a rusted out hulk of a ship in the pitch blackness not knowing that beneath your feet is a hold full of the undead. Opening that door and hearing the amplified moans of hundreds of zombies. What kind of hellish noise would they make? You slam the door shut and back away, hearing them through the steel and wondering if their howls are summoning others that you didn't notice. You could be surrounded; trapped inside a massive metal coffin that is slowly sinking. That's not the worst of it, though.
He added that he saw ghouls walking along the bottom of the ocean and that all of them were headed in our direction. He couldn't say how many, only that at some points they obscured the bottom from view. "Always looking up at me," he said. ", reaching up, even though I was too far away." (She shivers involuntarily)
A tidal wave of undead was coming straight for us. They'd likely arrive by the dozen. We only had about two hundred people living here. They'd wash over this place and kill, devour, or turn every man, woman, and child. We never would have known a thing. Maybe a boat would have spotted them, but what to do then?
What happened next?
People started to panic. They shouted for everyone to jump onto the boats and head for the mainland. I could see a few people trying to edge away from everyone else. The Bohemian lifestyle that held us together was unraveling right before my eyes. I was considering leaving the island on Dante's boat. I was formulating a plan when Shanice held up her hands again. She quieted us with one word. "Hush!" she said. "Even as this horror approaches, we have a plan."
(Peaches dabs a fry into some ketchup and smiles)
The plan was so simple; I was amazed that no one had immediately thought of it. When the government destroyed the Overseas Highway, they'd only severed the portions that connected the road to land. The elevated parts were still there. I couldn't think of anyone that didn't own a tent, or a tarp of some kind, and it was June for Christ's sake. The weather was fantabulous. Shanice's plan was to evacuate Key West of every man, woman, and child and put us all up on the highway. It would be tight, but we would be safe. The things couldn't climb ladders even if they could somehow figure out how to swim since the pillars were in deeper water.
She sent everyone back to their homes to get what they would need along with two weeks worth of supplies. No cars, no traffic so it actually happened rather fast. In less than ten hours everyone was standing on the northeast shore of the island waiting for their turn on the boats to take them out to the pillars where they would climb the maintenance ladders to the deck. We sent word to our neighbors to the north of the potential danger and our plan of what to do. It was very efficient. The last boat left the shore headed for the highway just as the sun was starting to dip into the Gulf. As it docked, one of the patrol boats sends up a flaming arrow, the sign that they spotted something. They came steaming around twenty minutes later yelling their heads off about the sheer number of zombies they saw.
For the next seven days we watched as wave after wave of undead cannibals walked from the water onto the beaches of our little island. Just the numbers we saw from our vantage point proved Dante's word and all of our fears. They would have destroyed us. Their arrival in the night would have taken us completely by surprise. It would have been absolute chaos. I spoke later with the folks from the islands north of us that got some of our wave and they too would have been ghoul-food if not for our warning. One of the islands, a satellite where there used to be one of those over-priced rich fucker resorts, had a few people living on it. In the beginning they begged us for help and supplies. We taught them how to live and then they stopped communicating. We never heard from them again.
Seven days we watched until the flow died down. We figured that they had come ashore, searched our island and then moved on. Dante made us wait another week, reminding us about the hold that was flooding. Sure enough, another wave, albeit a smaller one went by. Nineteen days later, he took a group of people, about fifty and went back to the island. They were gone for most of the day and came back at sunset. The men said that they had gone most of the way into the interior and had not seen anything, but Dante had recommended that they clear all the houses before letting people back. They had even brought back more supplies for everyone.
It took another week to clear the houses. Dante was a beast when it came to that. I didn't get to see it, but the guys that did got hard-ons just talking about how he killed those ghouls. "You shoulda seen it. There were, like, fifty of 'em and he just goes in there and starts swingin' his hammer and they drop like ten-penny nails." There was one guy that actually said it seemed like Zack was afraid of him.
Dante was around for some of the story-telling. He would just smile and shrug or crack a joke. At the end of it all, Shanice held a ceremony for him back at the town hall. She offered him a house and a permanent welcome to stay for as long as he liked. There were a few of us girls that were hoping he would stay. Hey, maybe he didn't want to rape me, but after hearing some of the stories and seeing him standing watch on the highway, I could have had a good time raping him. Sadly, he broke all of our hearts and asked to be taught how to sail. That took all of another week bringing his time with us to about a month. He left us his clunker and then sailed off into the sunset on a catamaran around the fourth of July.
II
(I arrive at my destination by boat. My boatman is a swarthy, one-eyed Cajun named Lafayette "Bon Temps" Dorsett. He works the gondola-style boat with a long oar that guarantees that he never needs to get near the water. On his belt is a cutlass that I am sure is an antique and a genuine Colt Peacemaker. He would almost look the part of a pirate were it not for the John Deere ball-cap and stereotypical stained bib overalls. His accent is almost as thick as the humid air and curtains of mosquitoes that hang above the bayous of this small Louisiana parish, but out among the swamps he is quiet. We're well north of New Orleans but a fair distance from Baton Rouge deep in the Atchafalaya Basin. I caught the boat from the ancient, one bar and two paved roads town of Maison Du Diable a leftover trapper's town relic from the days when Louisiana was owned by the French.
We approach our destination, an island that holds another relic of the French era. Lafayette pulls the oar from the water wiping the crud away from the paddle and turns it upside down to sound the bottom. He starts humming to himself quietly as he pokes into the muck. He stops in mid-note for a moment, feeling something in the oar. A hand creeps to his Peacemaker as he gives the unknown thing a second, sharper jab. The oar shakes violently in his hand and he relaxes. He flashes me a toothy grin and assures me that it was just a gator on the other side of the oar.
We come ashore on the island and he points toward a large stone wall with a solid wrought iron gate. It and the buildings behind it are the only intact structures standing. Aside from my destination are the ruins of a village that boasts an age of greater than two hundred years. The setting with its dark waters hiding unseen dangers and millions of trees with hanging Spanish moss has a claustrophobic feel. I turn back to the boat and find Lafayette has already pushed away from the shore toward deeper water. He assures me that he'll be back to get me in the morning and that I should get inside before it gets dark.
I follow his advice. I don't have to knock, the gate opens just enough to allow me to enter and then my greeter closes it behind me, securing it with a large iron bar. I cannot exactly place the exact type of architecture of my new home but it seems gothic. The layout of the complex is similar to the Cloisters in New York. My greeter, also my host is dressed in what is best described as a monk's robe. His head and face are devoid of hair and he has a welcoming smile on his lips and in his blue eyes. He takes my hand in both of his and gives it a surprisingly hearty shake for such a small man. He is called Brother Thomas, though his given name is Justin Boudreaux formerly of Maison Du Diable now a member of the Order of Saint Raphael.)
I say bienvenue, brother. Your trip was good yeah? What did ya'll think of Brother Bon Temps, huh? He can be a strange one. A good man he is, though, a good man. Always lookin' after us, he is. Please, come inside. The sun go down soon an' out the bayou ain't where ya'll wanna be come nightfall.
(I follow him inside where I remove my shoes and place a pair of supplied sandals on my feet. Brother Thomas leads me through a chapel to a dining hall where there is a large table. About twenty monks are seated there eating in total silence. Brother Thomas leads me through the room and to a much smaller room with a much smaller table.)
The brothers are glad ya'll are here and would be welcomin' ya'll an' such, but they's taken a vow of silence. They's don' wanna be 'sposed to the temptation of speakin' no. Ya'll go on an' sit now.
(The door opens and one of the other monks arrives carrying a two large bowls filled with what smells like crawdad gumbo. He sets them down and nods to Brother Thomas who nods in return)
Brother Jacob made his best jus' fo' you. Dig on in an' get some.
(After several minutes and a few bites of the piping hot gumbo, Brother Thomas leans back in his chair, an empty bowl before him.)
Whoowee, that was good yeah. Brother Jacob can sling some gumbo. Ya'll here looking to talk 'bout Dante now? I's reckon you found us on that map he had when he come here back then. Like all things there be a back story to this here. Ifn' you got the patience, I'll tell you.
Like most, I been 'round here my whole life. Furthest I been from the devil's house is down the Big Easy wit' ma frère Nicky. I's a bayou bumpkin' for true an' forever. Most the time I jus' run round this way. I'm sure you can 'magine weren't nothin' much ado out this way save for racin' boats, shootin' skeet, an' makin' trouble. I used to come out this way wit' the boys an' tag on the walls of this place, kick over the stones in the ruins, an' leave all our empties for them to clean. We knew they couldn't talk on an account o' they vows. Who better to take 'vantage of then folk can't talk on you, no?
When ole Zack come callin' down Maison Du Diable, we's caught by surprise. Know that we wasn't havin' no real televisions an' such out this way an' radio signal's choppy at best. I's don't mean to say we was all backwoods an' ignorant neither. Some us would head into Baton Rouge on weekend time an' it be from them we stay current, yeah. A lot us figure ain't nothin' can't be solved with a few shotgun shells an' some words from the Good Book. Come thinkin' 'bout it, maybe we was all backwoods ignorant, yeah?
This day, we still ain't sure where they come from. Jus' one night they come out the swamp. Droves of 'em. First reaction o' everyone was grab a either a gun or a Bible an' head either to the church or t' town proper where they could make a stand. As fer me, I's headed the other way. Somethin' in me says, "Don't be stupid. Get your gun and head away from all the shootin' and hollerin'" I's tried to get Nicky an' a few others t' follow me down, but they's had battlin' in they's blood. Called me coward an' sissy an' whatnot. Maybe I was, but that voice was strong in me. So run's what I did. I hopped in the boat and headed here.
Why here?
Like I said, we may be a bit out the way but we's not exactly in the dark, no. I heard few things from kin down New Orleans an' such. I knows I needs to go someplace strong an' out the way. This place built by the French t' keep out them Indians used live 'round here. 't stood for almost a hundred years 'fore it become US land. I came bangin' an' hollerin' for the mercy o' the brothers here. They let me in. What I musta looked like to them, whoowee. I was covered in scum an' drenched to the bone. I musta smelled somethin' awful yes sir. I's told 'em 'bout ole Zack an' how they's come to town an' how sorry I was for the trouble I'd caused. They's put me at ease, took my shotgun even though I's told 'em we would need it if'n Zack came. Then they's told me to hush. (He laughs)
Well not told me told me, but you understand? I didn't understand it at the time either, but then they took off the lock on the door there an' put on a bigger one. Took five o' the brothers to lift it. While they's was doin' that, a few o' the others went 'round an' blew out the lanterns up on the highest bits o' the walls. Then they's ushered me into the chapel there an' sealed that door too. Brother Mark led me to a basin where's I could wash up an' he gave me one o' they robes so's I didn't have to wear my filthy clothes. When I's was done I's came in an' found 'em in sanctuary, prayin'. I's thought it was kinda hokey, them's prayin' for folk an' all, but I's didn't say nothing, no. They's pulled me in outta harm's way an' after all I'd done, shoot.
What happened next?
(The change in his eyes indicates emotional struggle.)
Take your time.
We was in the chapel all night. Come dawn, the brothers left chapel an' went out in the courtyard. I's slept through most of what went on. When I's come out of chapel, Brother Michael, Brother Gabriel, and Brother Luke were coming back in from outside the wall. They had these staffs with them. I's never seen 'em before. They also wasn't wearin' they robes, either. They had on leather with the chain mail like the knights o' old. They staffs had heavy balls on one end, an' spikes on the other. The balls an' the spikes was coated in the black blood of ole Zack. I's wasn't knowin' that then no. They was lookin' at the other brothers an' they look was enough make the fires of hell turn to rivers o' ice. I looked by them an' saw my frère Nicky's shirt. I went to the gate, but the brothers stepped in my way.
"What's wrong wit' ya'll?" I asked 'em. "That's my frère, my brother, ya'll." I shoved the brothers, harder than I should all things considered. I forced my way out an' saw that he's was dead. Ole Zack had gotten to 'im. He's chewed up somethin' awful. I looked beyond him an' seen more bodies. They's had to been dozens an' all o' they was from Maison Du Diable. Some was all Zacked up, yeah? Some wasn't. Looked like they was tryin' to get in an' Zack got 'em. I knew most of 'em.
I's started to cry, an' I's started howlin' an' blubberin' like a baby. I's looked back at my frère an' thought 'bout what all had t' happen with him an' started crying loud. Ole Zack answered my howlin' with some o' his own. I didn't hear 'em but Brother Gabriel did. The other brothers came out an' tried draggin' me back inside. I's ashamed to say I fought them. Brother Luke ended the argument with the ball end of his staff. When I's woke up, it was night an' my head was poundin' somethin' awful. Brother Luke was tendin' to me an' I could see he was sorry for what he done. At first, I couldn't find it in me t' forgive 'im. Then I's spoke with Brother Daniel, the eldest of the Order.
Not spoke with spoke with?
No, Brother Daniel spoke to me. He broke his vow of silence to educate me. He figured the Good Lord would forgive him if'n he broke his word to minister. Come with me.
(Brother Thomas leads me out of the room and deep into the chapel where there is a hidden stair leading down. Basements in Louisiana are difficult to come by due to the high water table. The fact that this ancient structure has one is both a testament to the ingenuity of its architect and the resourcefulness of its builders. We travel down the steps and into a catacomb where the walls are marked with names and dates all in Latin. The setting is surreal, almost like out of an adventure movie. Adding to that is Brother Thomas' use of a torch to light our way. We walk for far longer than I think we should before coming to a door. Brother Thomas opens the door and we enter a room lined with bookshelves that are loaded with books. In the center of the room a carving of Saint Raphael holds a large, leather-bound book in its hands. The book is old but not so much when compared to some of the other tomes in the room. Brother Thomas stands next to the book.)
Look, but don't touch it, no, and no pictures, hear?
What is this?
This is the history of our order. This book be o'er two hunnerd years old.
(As he talks he opens the book and flips through the pages. He handles them carefully as if they will crumble to dust in his hands.)
The Knights of the Order of Saint Raphael come to be here by the French. The ruins was of one of the first towns here. It be like that place in Virginia, yeah?Ro… somethin' or th' other.
Roanoke?
Yeah that be it right there. Well they was livin' out this way tryin' build up a good Christian place when ole Zack come callin'. Fools they was, the folks kept tryin' to put a place out this way. They call back to the big church for help. The church send the Knights of Saint Raphael t' come an' deal with the problem. They come an' finds ole Zack. This book say them Knights fought near a month t' clear out the place. When they done they build the town an' this place here. Town got wiped out in a flood. Folks wasn't all that Christian by that time so they's left. The Order stayed.
An order of Knights sanctioned by the Catholic Church dedicated to killing zombies? Where did the Knights come from?
No, no, they ain't dedicated to takin' out ole Zack. From what I's learned they's has history with ole Zack datin' back to Crusadin' times. Don't know it all, yet. I's still being trained. Brother Daniel explained this to me. He brought me down here just like I did you. All that bein' explained, I forgave Brother Luke an' I been here ever since.
What happened when Dante came?
Dante come in mid-summer some time after things died down round here. Durin' the day we's work outside. At nights we's go into the chapel an' seal it tight. Can't no sound get in there. That's why I didn't hear nothin' that first night. It was one mornin' we come out for the day's work. We hear ole Zack moanin' an' howlin' outside so Brother Michael an' Brother Gabriel suit up an' head out to deal with them. I's head for the garden an' that's where I find 'im. Dante had climbed him on over the wall. He was in a bad way so I's gone to the brothers for help an' we carried him inside.
What do you mean? What was wrong with him?
I knows he's some sort o' legend an' all, but he didn't know nothin' 'bout makin' it through no bayou when he come here. Critters in this place'll eat you alive an' I ain't just talkin' 'bout gators. Plus, we's surrounded by water. Can't drink it though, least not straight. Get you the runs somethin' awful an' that'll do just as much damage as anythin'. Dante was sick with fever an' the flies an' skeeters had done got to him. He's was weak as a baby. Musta been work o' the Devil that he find this place and the Will of God give him strength to climb that wall with ole Zack probably snappin' at his tail.
Brother David and Brother Daniel tended to him for the rest of the day an' into the night. I helped. I's happy to see someone not wearin' brown. I's was goin' a bit stir-crazy I ain't ashamed t' say. Dante slept most the day an' all night. Musta been dead tired. Next day he woke up an' we got us some answers.
He told us he's sailed from the east coast comin' into the Gulf an' then following the panhandle o' Florida. From there, he come up the rest o' the way by land. I's don' know how he done it. What I heard Louisiana was crawlin' with ole Zack. They's supposed to be fillin' the basin back then. He tell us he got in a bad way tryin' to make it through the bayou. Didn' say where he's headed an' all. Said, he hit the bayou on the north side o' Lake Pontchartrain. He says, "It all went to shit from there." He's gotten bit by everythin' save fo' gators an' ole Zack. Spider bit 'im an' the bite got all sickly an' whatnot. Oh yeah, he's in a bad way, yes sir. That strange super suit 'o his was jus' 'bout hangin' off his bones. He could barely lift that hammer o' his. If'n he don't find us then, he'd probably not have made it.
How long was he with you?
Rest o' the summer an' a little into the fall. While he was here, he rested an' sought knowledge. Smart one that Dante there. He's could figure what this place was. Took one look at those staffs of the brother's an' knew exactly what they's was for. He liked the armor the brothers wore there an' they took kindly to his hammer. Nothin' really Christian 'bout a big ole thumper like that, but they liked it them. I's told him how t' make it through the bayou. How's t' walk an' what to eat. Basic stuff, yeah? The brothers taught 'im what they knew o' ole Zack an' how they's dealt with 'em all this time.
Did Brother Daniel or any of the others talk to him?
No, not a word. They "talked" usin' these books. Dante had a question; they'd bring him the book with the answer. After 'bout a month or so, he got to runnin' 'round the place, getting' back fit an' all. After two months he'd go out with Brother Michael an' Brother Gabriel or Brother Luke an' take care any o' ole Zack that come 'round. After seein' him do it few times, I's figured I could help some kinda way.
Did they train you how to use their weapons?
No, not at first. First, I's was just helpin' with the dead Zack. We took 'em an' burned 'em in this spot on the other side of the island there.
Did you ever see Dante fight?
Aw yeah, yes sir I seen him do what he do. Even sickly an' recoverin' he's was somethin' to watch. It was early September I believe an' we had a few show up sometime durin' the night. They's heard us come out the chapel an' was comin' towards the wall. Brother Michael, Brother Luke, and Dante go out to meet 'em. I follow but stays back like they want. Turns out there's more an' just a few o' ole Zack. They's comin' from all sides. I tell you what, I's was longin' for my shotgun. Dante mutters somethin' 'bout takin' a few comin' out the swamp. I gotta tell you, when ole Zack come outta the muck an' the mire like that, it chills me deep yeah.
I watch Dante go walkin' toward five o' them with no fear. He pulls his mask up as he gets close an' I hold my breath. He hefts that hubcap he calls a shield an' raises his hammer. He gets closer than even the brothers ever get an' I's thinkin' all the work we did nursin' him's 'bout to go for nothin'.
The first one goes fo' him, an' Dante breaks its walkin' knee with one kick. He swings his hammer into the back o' its head as it's fallin'. Ain't enough t' kill it, but it knocks it sprawlin' an' the thing can't move. Dante spin an' turns his back to 'em as he whacks another in the face with his hubcap. It goes sprawlin'. Dante turns back an' takes a swing with his hammer. I's heard ole Zack's skull crunch. It falls back into the muck. The fourth falls to the axe end o' his hammer. He swings up at it like he's knockin' a shot at a golf course. Top o' ole Zack's head maybe flew twenty feet. Dante walks 'round ole Zack as it falls t' the ground an' drops the last one with a hard swing right at the side o' its head. He turns an' takes out the two he knocked over an' then motions to me.
I just stood there a moment. Brother Michael an' Brother Luke was still puttin' theirs down an' there Dante was ready for more. He slung his hammer an' helped me movin' the bodies to the burn pit. I's asked him how he felt 'bout killin' ole Zack. I uses terms like "it" an' all but I know they's people like me an' you once. I never killed ole Zack before an' I wanted to know what all it was like yeah? Dante looks as if'n he's thinkin' 'bout it an' he says, "It has t' be a cursed life, wanderin' 'round with no mind, killin' everythin' an' everyone you know. Bein' always hungry an' never full no matter what. If'n there's anythin' left o' who they was in there. They's gotta be cryin' out t' be free. So's I's not really killin' ole Zack, I's settin' free who they was." I's paraphrasin', o' course. Dante didn' talk like me, no.
After that, that's how life was down here 'till he go end o' October. Just one day, he felt good enough to get on an' he told us. We's sorry to see 'im go an all but it was his time t' move on. He left one chilled mornin' an' we ain't seen 'im since.
You've been with the Knights of the Order of St. Raphael since the start of the war?
Yes sir.
And in all that time, you haven't ascended to a full ranking member. Why is that?
In old times, the order had heralds that were lower ranked members. They's did the talkin' for the brothers when words was needed. You could say I's filled that role during an' after the war. Not that there's much need now. Folks got theyself pretty much back to normal. As for the rest, the doctrine is clear. A brother of the order needs t' be at peace with hisself before he take his vows. T' be at peace, there need be forgiveness.
The night I come to be here, I left my family, my friends, my home. I abandoned them to the mercy o' demons that don't know mercy. Some o' them that I knew, died on the brink o' salvation. My own frère died at this doorstep. The fault is mine yeah. It be some time since that night. I still can't forgive me, no. Maybe someday, though. Maybe someday.
