One of Us

The group pressed on beyond the second set of tracks towards the end of Hollow road. Most of the fields here saw no development, much of the land too far below the river's water table to be suitable for immediate construction. In some areas of Middletown it took years to get most building projects off the ground due to the zoning challenges or the environment. It was a catch all as to what exactly their reason for not building was. Much of the town had originally been part of a river basin, making the region susceptible to flooding and the land soft.

The group had already been walking for nearly an hour along the featureless stretch of road. They had to rest so at a halfway point they took a break. It was recognized as the old bus stop that cut through Furlough, though it was long since out of service making getting there an out of the way trip. The mortuary was situated at a dead end. It was famously bordered by the mountains to the north and the river to the west. Fog was a regular hazard for the throughway, so a few scattered signs warned passing cars of the dangers. It was a long walk, especially wading through the ankle deep waters that turned the dirt and grasses on the side of the road into a sticky mud, but they would finally start to see the headstones come into view. The old metal gates drawing the boundaries between the untouched lots and hallowed grounds. It was quiet. The picturesque scenery was broken up by the looming edifices of stone, but something else seemed out of place. To think they had to head to such a creepy location.

“What’s that?” Nathan had slowed to a stop and looked up. "Do you hear that?" It had been silent up until then.

There had been nothing but silence, surrounding their footfalls as they waded through the ankle deep muds. The fog was starting to roll more aggressively turning the fine mist into a hazard. It was cutting down on visibility, but as far as they can figure from the silhouettes there were some people heading their way. Jon tensed, feeling uneasy after running into those junkies earlier. They were on the other side of the tracks and this part of town was more dangerous.

“Maybe it’s the others...“ Kaitlynn hoped, but she dare not call out. They really had no means of protecting themselves and it was becoming clear that something was wrong. “Guys...“ The others looked up, following Kaitlyn's gaze.

In the distance, through the dense fog, three figures would come into view. The movement of the hazy silhouettes was slow, purposeful. Through the fog the dark shape of a weapon could be seen in one of their hands: a pipe of some sort. They drew closer only for their jerking movements to become clearer. More junkies. There were three, but that was too many for a group like theirs who had no weapons in hand and were as sober as one could get. Desperate people were dangerous people, but these guys weren’t people. With their jaundice skin and unsettling, twitching bodies they called out, mindless slaves to their disease.

“One of us!” one would scream, before the other two charged.

The one with the metal pipe went straight for Kaitlyn. “Kait!” Jon would shout before tackling Kait to the ground, the man’s pipe missing her head by inches.

Nathan jumped out, throwing out his fist to punch the junkie across the face, sending him to the ground. Nathan stood and looked to his fist. It looked as if some of the man’s drying skin had flaked off. His face pulled back in disgust as he ducked down to splash his fingers in the water.

“Look out!” Leslie jumped in front of Nathan and raised her leg to kick into the second junkie, only for him to lean in and bite at her hand as she tried to push his face away. “Augh!” She began to punch the side of his skull, eventually cracking the man’s teeth, forcing him to release, though not without cutting into her knuckles. She continued to curb stomp the prone individual.

The one having spurred the other two into action began to laugh. “One of us!” He started to cough, hand coming to his chest as he seized and dropped to his knees. He would violently vomit onto the ground, blood and bile wretched from his mouth as his chest heaved. “One--” He hacked out before a black mass was expelled from his mouth during the coughing fit before he would finally collapse, face first, into the water, and became still.

Jon helped Kaitlynn to her feet. “What the hell was that?!” The young man panicked as he looked to Nathan who seemed equally confused and disgusted.

He had washed off his hand, but looking over to the man he had clotheslined looked as if his skin was peeling off from sunburn: bits of the discolored flesh peeling back as his thin body was trembling, half conscious, on the ground.

“Who cares, let's just go!” Nikki pushed before moving to pull Nathan to his feet, forcibly pulling at his arm.

Leslie gave the man one last kick to his side before looking up. “No!” She called out, her hand bleeding a bit from the punch. “Over there!” She pointed to the cemetery before starting out. “We can get directly into the mortuary if we walk straight through.These goons are probably walking along the road picking off people whose cars are shut down...“ Like vultures...

Which made sense. They had passed a few abandoned vehicles, the passengers likely picked up by the tow services or other emergency services blazing through the streets.

They could agree that it wasn’t safe near the roads and moved to follow Leslie towards the cemeteries. It was the safest route and with the gates surrounding the perimeter of the property they wouldn’t have to worry about unnecessary meetings. But as they made their way into the fields one of the men pushed back to their feet. He would grab the pipe, gurgling incoherently.

“One of us.” He turned to face the others, who took notice of his movement and took to running.

They rushed toward the old gates. They were tall, black painted iron rods that were interlocked and welded together in intricate styles to mimic growing vines as was apparent from the way the metal would flatten out into spades like leaves. And while sufficient strength could bring them down, for the time being, it would be enough to keep the one junkie out. They rushed to the gates and would work the mechanisms open, the fence angrily creaking as they forced it. The locks would stall, at first, but they would finally wrench them open before rushing through. Leslie led the charge, holding the gates open while the others rushed in. She would slam the gate closed and turned to look around.

“Guys! Over there!” There were some gardening tools. “Block it off!” She shouted as the junkie swung the pipe violently against the gates.