Chapter 9: Bodies in the Church
Brimstone Bayou
Somewhere in the Wilderness
1999
After parting ways with Caleb, Damien followed behind Logan's group with the crossbow mounted on his back. He was nervous about being out here with them; there wasn't a thing he knew about them and any one of them could still want him dead, especially Logan.
This bastard may have committed his fair share of horrid deeds in the past, but he had no intention of this being his penitence and spending his final moments playing ignorant bliss to an upcoming demise.
Damien Snow was never one to go down without a fight, and he wasn't going to start now.
He kept a close watch on the others; specifically Logan Peyton. His python could do some damage with even one direct hit. One other member of the seven volunteer militiamen had as much of Damien's attention as Logan, his name was Mark; he carried a bolt-action rifle on his back.
It could prove troublesome if Damien ever had to make a run for it.
The rest carried pistols and shotguns; Damien could handle them no problem; but only if Logan or one of them tries to whack him. A part of him was hopeful things would go Caleb's way and without a hitch but that seemed less likely every second out here.
While trekking through the woods, he took a few looks back; still unsure if the Creeper was stalking them are not.
Along the way a few of the survivors gossiped about what transpired during Luke's run. The best Damien could make out was that their guy stopped here on his way to a graveyard of cars when he suddenly was cut off; afterwards all Caleb and Logan heard was static.
Logan led them for about an hour until they finally reached their destination. Damien wasn't impressed; Brimstone wasn't big; if you knew your way around, then walking from place to place could take someone half a day or a few hours and still have plenty of time to get back home before dark.
Damien noticed, as he looked around, they were close to a road leading to the asylum he escaped from a day and a half ago.
Everyone looked on the macabre sight of a tattered, and recently abandoned, collection of swamp shacks and the bodies of its former tenants could be found with bullet holes in the heads or bite marks from where other zombies made a meal out of them before they too were abandoned.
"We're here," Logan announced seriously.
Zombies close to the shacks were still feasting on corpses. One nearby notices them; it was a woman in ripped clothes and blood. Damien raises his crossbow in an instant to fire. "You ugly skank," He insulted the monster before firing a bolt through its eye.
Walking to grab the bolt, Damien put the tip to his shoe on the head; holding it down he pulled the arrow out as quickly as he put it in. Logan and Mark both look at him with cautious gaze and disturbed expression; they had killed zombies before, but Damien had no more compulsion with killing them than he would with eating his own breakfast.
The young man refused to heed their distrusting looks; Damien wasn't there to make any friends, he was there to do a job then go home, or in this scenario the camp.
"Not too shabby," Casey complimented him. He had to be the only one not giving Damien a death stare.
Casey Blake was younger than the other volunteers. He had to be Damien's age; nineteen at best. Blake was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and blue jeans, with a hockey mask over his hair with a skull painted on; and carrying a pair of pistol on him. He was genial with Damien, something the others lacked.
"I love to be proficient," Damien responded with his normal tone substituted to be friendlier.
Silas Grayson, another volunteer, rolls his eyes; he was dressed like Luke, only with colors, and carrying a Glock 17. "If you two are done patting each other on the back, we have work to do." He said raucously while looking with the others at the shacks.
Damien joined them with Casey and raises his crossbow, looking though the scope, and zoom his focus on the area of the shacks to spot a small pack of zombies. "What do you see?" Logan asked.
Mark prepares to do the same with his rifle.
"Wendigos, a lot of them; most of them are outside chewing down on some doe but a few of them are on the inside."
"That should make things easy," Silas said before Logan completed it "All we have to do is kill the ones on the inside without making any noise."
Mark looks through the small village and spots an interest. "I think I've found where Luke might have been held up." Damien joined him in looking at the spot, an old house. It looked like a mansion compared to its neighbors. "Yeah; that would do it." He said in agreement.
"Alright then; how do we get in without attracting the attention of the zombies?" Logan asked his men with little suggestions.
Damien thought about it himself. He could make short work of any zombie on the inside; hell, it would have been a walk in the park. His only problem was inserting himself into the village without a zombie seeing or hearing him.
He did not fancy himself Odysseus, with the cunning to beat Cyclopes or cannibal giants but Damien just knew he could find a way.
A piece of earth soon catches his attention; where this one small creek ran by, it was big enough for him to fit in, and the only question was it deep enough? The gambit was long shot but he would need to risk it; he was looking to earn some good faith and this was good a start as any.
"Where are you going, Snow?" Logan asked, noticing he was moving before anyone else.
Damien points to the cramped piece of water. "See that creek there," he asks. "If I can fit in there then I'll be able to sneak up on those things before they know what hit them."
Logan made a face showing that he agreed while the others admitted it was a good idea. Before leaving they hand him a small radio to call them with once he was done. Luckily one part of the creek was close by so it was easy to get in unnoticed.
Dragging himself through the creek was an aquatic crucible for Damien; he took in one breath of fresh air before diving down and needed to make the air last. He felt like a Navy sailor going through hell week only with a more claustrophobic sense. It took him thirty minutes but eventually pulled himself from the creek and inhaled a breath of air.
Emerging from the water Damien grabs a zombie and drags it into the water, stabbing its skull, and left it floating there after winning the struggle. "This time stay dead." He instructed his defeated foe and prepared his crossbow.
Thinking of what he did, so critically, Damien wondered what if Jon and Oliver had been here with him and if they would have been impressed. Would they be astonished and amazed by their little baby brother's growth and how far he's come.
Your half brother, a voice of no origin reminded him. You're not a Vincent; not a soldiers like they are.
For Damien, it was his step-father's influence still haunting him like the ghosts he carries with him through this ever-growing nightmare he find himself in.
Casey was looking on, with Logan and Silas, and silently cheered Damien on with amusement and excitement. "Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle; it worked." Logan openly admitted to his own doubt of Snow's ability.
One zombie feasting corpse was in sight. The cretin was farthest from its brewed and ripe for the shooting.
"Hey, dead-head," he said like it was meant to be a low whistle as his crossbow rises. When the zombie looked in his direction it took a bolt between the eyes; afterwards Damien grinned. "Bull's-eye,"
In haste, he grabs the bolt from the skull and reloads as another zombie catches on to its fellow's demise. Damien took it down as quickly as the first, but it was too late, the other zombies came at him soon after.
After getting one more bolt out, Damien goes for his knife; one and two go down quickly with a stab to the head. When the remainder fell to his hunting knife, he looked around to see one left as he was retrieving his bolts.
Damien tilted his head with an irritated look before grabbing the blade of his knife and throws the weapon; landing it inside the head and killing the last zombie.
Without missing a beat, Logan and the others quickly join up with Damien and get inside the medium sized house. Casey helps him shut the door closed once their all inside.
The house was a disappointment for Damien; he was hoping for an ordinary home with objects to barricade door, but instead it was a church; old and abandoned like most of the dead county. No zombie could be found inside, only more dead bodies. All of them were killed by a tomahawk and a blade tearing through their bodies to where they died of blood loss.
Damien recognized the wounds; they were like the deputies in the asylum only it looked like the Mute was aided by someone with a sword.
A crucifix stood up in the front. Looking up, he sees the figure of the messiah Jesus Christ. "Hey J.C; how's the folks doing,"
"Uh," a faint pained moan echoes out, like the whale of a ghost. Damien looked to his-temporary-leader; he readies his crossbow and Logan prepares his revolver.
Luke was found to be the source; the very same Luke who helped Caleb and Logan capture him yesterday. He had a wound still bleed fresh blood, like the stream Damien just came out of, from a wound between his chest and stomach.
"Jesus; Luke, what happened to you," Logan asked his friend; helping to apply pressure to the wound. He, Mark and Casey were appalled by what happened to their friend.
"These freaks got to us," Luke muttered in Logan's arms. Whatever hit the dying man, it was clear to Damien the fear of it was still on him. "They came out of nowhere; one with a sword, one with a throwing axe and the one with this trench coat on."
"Trench coat," Damien repeated. "Did it look like a scarecrow?"
Luke was surprised to see Damien still alive, laughing even. "The smart-ass, still kicking I see; thought Caleb gutted you like a trout."
"Is that what did this?"
"Yeah; scarecrow about sums up what this thing looked like. It had throwing knives and stars; came at us like a ninja before dragging Aidan away." Luke responded. "You know him?"
Damien was unwilling to say anything more; he shut with a sullen expression. "No, no, no; this is not happening," he mutters to himself after backing away. Finally he announces and tries to conceal his fear "It's the creeper!"
"So you do know him?" Casey asked.
Damien made a look of admission before noticing this trail of blood that went further down the hall and made a left turn. "Uh, Luke, when the creeper took Aiden where did it go?"
Luke aimed down the hall where blood trail ends. "If you could have heard the screams coming out of there, your skin would crawl."
Readying his flashlight and crossbow, Damien finds a door at the end of Aiden's blood trail, or he assumed it was Aiden's. Part of him was hoping it wasn't.
The door, when opened, revealed only a void to endless darkness. A chill ran up Damien's spine, as he imagined the creeper's ugly face inside of the dark ready to pounce at a moment's notice. While looking into the darkness a shot rang out and he looked to where the others were attending to Luke.
"What happened with Luke?" Damien asked once he saw Logan walk up with blood spatter on his body and Casey following behind. It didn't take a rocket scientist guess what happened. By all odds he's probably dead, like Aiden, but it didn't hurt to ask.
"He…he was too busted up to help," Logan tried to explain while Casey fought back his own tears. It wasn't long until Damien stopped him with a hand raised. "You didn't want your friend to suffer any more so you put him out of his misery; I get it."
His reassurance did little to calm Logan's unhinged nerves, but Casey found some solace in that fact.
Logan swung to face the darkness in the door, that likely lead to a basement. "What'd you think is down there?" he asked with a hand on his holstered revolver, imagining what awful creature could be lurking down there in its bowls.
"The Creeper's lair maybe," Damien shrugged his shoulders, speechless to a genuine answer for the leader's question. Logan hands his the python revolver over and says "Take this and investigate; we'll deal with the zombies outside then bury our friends when we're done."
Without hesitation, Damien took the 44. Revolver and mounts the crossbow on his back. "I'll be back." He told them with a hesitant grin before walking down the steps with his new weapon and flashlight crossed together.
A/N: To my readers if your wondering why I'm side tracking with this addition to the story, I would just like to say that I'm waiting to hear back from another author and wanted to have another encounter between the Creeper and Deadpool.