The God Of The Undead - Chapter 43

(Miguels POV)

What is depression? According to the therapist that we saved 3 years ago, it is a mood disorder with symptoms of sadness, difficulty in thinking and concentration. Feelings of dejection and hopelessness sprinkled with a topping of suicidal thoughts and tendencies. Although I have thought on several occasions of our very low survivability, which led me down several thoughts of poisoning the water supply and putting us out of our misery, that would just give the undead free rights over our bodies without a fight.

After James, who we all nicknamed Old Man J since after settling Black Site 38, old a.s.s finally got caught slipping by his age and could barely stand without the help of a walker and eventually settled for a wheelchair. Sometime after realizing he wouldn’t be able to lead and oversee Black Site 38 nor the disguised surface level known as The Farm, which we actually made into a sustainable farm, for much longer, he made me the de facto leader of our Safe Haven that rapidly grew for 3 years.

The Safe Havens, more known as safe zones, were more or less zombie-free since they couldn’t pass over some sort of magical threshold as explained by religious zealots from Ther Cult of The Damned. The Cult of The Damn is a highly religious cult that sprung up after all hell broke loose, and people became desperate to live just another day. As they explained it, certain areas around the world was magically resistant to the undead incursion, and for how they knew, no one knows, but one thing for certain is they somehow were able to walk freely outside the safe zones without being attacked.

For that very reason, many other groups within other safe havens came to believe that the cult was behind the rising of the undead and the loss of their loved one. Even my people believe that and came to label them as traitors to humanity, albeit we never engaged them like other Safe haven leaders. Even if my people and the rest of the surviving Safe Havens believed them to be the cause of this apocalyptic world we now live in, James told Ally and me the truth since were seemed to be the most reasonable people to trust with it. At First, we didn’t believe the world we live in had magic and forgotten gods that governed it, but we soon put two and two together and came to the conclusion that he was right.

I didn’t really want that heavy burden along with being the leader of the group on my shoulders, but the old man was smooth with words and tricked me into taking over his mantle of responsibility in front of everyone. Although I could have turned the situation on its head rejected, he whispered, “He knows my ideas of survival but not yours. The surface is not safe and will never be safe as the Cult of the Damn is his worshippers, and the Safe Havens are nothing but a false sense of security he pulled over our heads, and I failed to see it in the beginning. The walls that surround us is a cage waiting to be crushed, and we are the chickens living behind a fence waiting to be broken by the predators lurking outside.” Afterward, he backed away and shook my hand while congratulating me as he sat back down in the wheelchair as his legs couldn’t take the pressure of him standing anymore.

I wanted to ask so many questions, but he feigned ignorance as if he knew too much the enemy would know what my plans would be, so I stopped asking him for answers and began leading as the leader I was chosen to be. Was I the leader that was needed? No, but I was efficient enough, according to Ally, who became my wife during these times.

Currently, I was looking at a map in the headquarters of Black Site 38, c.a.r.e.s.sing the little bit of beard I managed to grow over 3 years. The headquarters was on the 7th level, right above level 8, which stored most of the backup supplies and emergency escape route that was a carved out tunnel that led to a myriad of other tunnels that other Safe Havens helped make that all led to the surface.

The tunnels were the last and only option if what James had said was true. It was hell getting other Safe Havens to divert manpower to such a massive project, but it paid off in the end when we finally finished them.

While I was looking at the map, I noticed something odd around certain areas where caravans and traders had been attacked, leaving no survivors. While it was common to be attacked by a small or huge horde of undead, uncommon when it came to the special variant of undead known as spiderlings, the Safe Havens became very capable of handling them. This left me with only the assumption that something new was out there, and it scared me as some caravans and traders traveled with rocket launchers and other explosives to deal with large hordes.

As I was still in deep thought over this, I felt a quick smack on my arm from lieutenant Rose. Lieutenant Rose and others I called Lieutenant were people I chose to help manage and lead certain aspects of Black Site 38 it. Rose’s job was to manage and oversee things in HQ while I was gone and while I was present was to help assist others in the HQ. Other than that, she was the only person I gave permission too to make and receive any calls from the other Safe Havens. It was a surprise to everyone that despite the massive jamming of signals across the country, we able to still make calls across landlines. It was challenging to establish since we had to first get power back to optimal levels with solar power, which took us through hell to find.

I looked towards Rose, who was looking worried, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“It Ally she’s sent a nurse from the level 3 who said you’re needed, it’s Old Man J. They don’t think he “doing” too well.” Rose said while emphasizing the word doing as to signify that his sickness is getting worse.

“Ok, take over for me while I go up to check on his condition,” I said while walking towards the elevator, which was the only way in or out of any of the levels.

As I rode the elevator up, I think back to when James first started getting sick. It wasn’t uncommon for elderly people his age to get sick and pass away, but his sickness was different. It was as if he was being drained of his life force and was slowly shriveling into a mummified corpse. The only possible conclusion was that his brother, John, the cause of the end of the world, was responsible, but it didn’t make sense. He’s had all this time to make his move against James and the Safe Havens, yet he’s something akin to a curse. Nah, something somewhere is missing in this equation, and I certainly don’t have all the necessary information.

I approached the side of the bed and asked the attending nurse what his current condition was, and she said, “As of currently, his heart is becoming too shriveled to continue pumping blood throughout his body. Because of the lack of blood and oxygen to his brain, we estimate he might not live past a couple of days and…”[1]

Just as she was about to continue to talk, James shriveled hand quickly grabbed hold of my wrist as his shriveled eyelids opened, revealing the void that replaced his eyes in his eye socket. For a man who was basically a shriveled corpse hid still retained a scary grip.

Just as everyone was frozen, James spoke and said, “Ahh, I finally know why I… am like this. While I slept, I saw what my brother has become, and there is no hope of ever stopping him. There is only the hope of surviving, and that seems bleak. He has been asleep for 3 years and for 3 years he has become much stronger. Prophets have told of the end of the world; even now, the minions of other gods fight and die at the hands of John’s undead. We have reached the end of the final hour without knowing and now the End is Nigh.”

Just as James had said that, he goes limp, and the monitors that watched over his vitals began to beep and sound an alarm throughout the room, signifying his passing. The nurses wanted to help, but due to his final wishes of not wanting to be revived, they stood on the sidelines and did nothing. Miguel looked at Ally, and she looked back towards him as they both wanted answers to half of what he was saying as they both knew that he was nowhere near being senile.

Under the city of HornBrew…

In a large room sits a large egg-shaped object with what seemed to be a bloody talisman on the side. Large and black as obsidian it sat quietly until something within moved. After a bit of moving 6 long black fingers broke out of the object causing black shell-like fragments to hit the floor. After a small pause 3 of the fingers yanked back breaking off more of the shell to reveal tall faceless head with horns that went down the side of the face and extended forward. The crest on the top of the head curved towards the back of the head until it curved upward.

It was silent until John said, albeit without a mouth, “Finally, it’s time to finish where I left off.”

(//A.N: [1] Not a scientist nor a doctor, I’m not sure how a heart will do if it was shriveled.)