Banshee Screams Read online

  He raised his arm and pointed.

  She looked in that direction. "That way? You live down that way?"

  He kept pointing.

  Ross said, "The cemetery's that way."

  She glared back at him. Then to Stephen, she asked, "Are your Mom or Dad around here?"

  "Church."

  "They're at church?"

  He nodded.

  She asked, "Why aren't you at church with them?"

  He didn't respond. He looked inside the window again.

  "Stephen," Debbi said. "Why aren't you in church with your Mom and Dad? Stephen. Can you answer me, please?"

  Stephen continued to stare into the house.

  Debbi knew there were two churches in the vicinity. Aside from the ruined St. Calixtus, the First Temptation Ecumenical Church was a small, wood frame sanctuary that had been built after the storm to house a variety of worship services, many of which had little doctrinal relation to any of the old denominations of Earth, but were the products of survival mentality. The Worldstorm had been a boon for church attendance in Temptation.

  Debbi asked, "Stephen, are they in a white church down the street?"

  "Mm hmm." The boy turned back to her.

  "Come on, let's go see your Mom and Dad." Debbi stretched out her hand to the boy. She heard the rattle of Ross's shotgun as it once again rose in her defense. Stephen seemed to give in and he grabbed Debbi's hand. She felt a quick surge of panic, waiting for the sweet little boy to leap at her in a flash of teeth and hands. Instead, he playfully leaped off the porch and started pulling her down the street.

  She stumbled after, trying to slow him down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a suspicious Ross following behind, keeping just off to the side.

  A few blocks down, Stephen stopped across the street from the First Temptation Ecumenical Church. Debbi saw lights shining through the stained glass windows. Services were in session. The double front doors were ajar.

  She asked the boy, "Your parents are in there now?"

  "Yes." His expression hadn't changed since Debbi had first seen him.

  "Don't you think they'll miss you?"

  "They're busy."

  "So they just let you run around outside while they're in church?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Some people came in and it got noisy so I left."

  "Some people came in? What people?"

  "Smelly people." He held his nose and screwed up his face.

  She heard Ross exhaling from behind her. He pressed his comlink and made a general call. "This is Ross. We need back up at the Ecumenical Church. Pronto."

  Debbi knelt in front of the boy. "Stephen, what were these smelly people doing?"

  "Walking around. People were yelling at them."

  "Okay, Stephen, can you do me a favor?"

  He shrugged.

  "Good. I want you to stand here. Right here." Debbi tapped her knuckles on the ground. "A couple more Rangers will be here in a minute and your job is to tell them that I and the big, mean man here went into the church. Okay? That's a big job, but I know I can trust you. Okay?"

  Stephen just stared at her.

  "Here," Ross said gruffly. He yanked the badge off his shirt and handed it to the boy. Stephen stared at the shiny slice of metal and smiled for the first time. Ross pointed at him. "You're a deputy now. Understand? And I am tellin' you to stand here and wait for the other Rangers. You have to do it because you took the badge. You got it, kid?"

  "Okay." Stephen was concentrating on pinning the badge to his shirt.

  "Don't cut yourself," Ross muttered and started running toward the church.

  Debbi followed, fighting a smile as she watched Ross stride ahead of her. They crouched at the foot of the portico. Ross listened for sounds, but none came from inside the church. That was a bad sign.

  Debbi drew in the dirt with her finger. "Okay. Just inside is a vestibule. Straight ahead, double doors to the sanctuary. On the left, stairs to the balcony."

  Ross narrowed his eyes at her. "I've been in the damn church before."

  "Oh."

  "I go first. You follow; take the balcony. Shoot anybody wearing a black suit with the back cut out of it."

  Ross bounded up the steps and planted his back against one of the open front doors. He peered in. After a second, he signaled to Debbi. She immediately slipped through the front doors and darted to the left and up the stairs without looking. She paused at the landing and twisted her neck to see the top of the stairs. She saw no one. She inched up to the balcony and laid her shotgun over the top step.

  The five rows of wooden pews in the balcony were empty.

  She slipped forward and crouched behind the low wall at the front of the balcony. From below in the sanctuary, she heard faint sobs and the sounds of shuffling. But no voices.

  She risked a glance.

  The church was about half-full, probably forty people scattered around the sanctuary. People were gathered into small groups, clutching each other for solace and protection. Adults hugged children tight.

  Debbi saw one rotting undead walking down the center aisle. It paused to jab a frightened parishioner with an offering plate. The parishioner shook with terror. He reached out his quivering hand and touched the inside of the offering plate, mimicking placing money in the plate. The zombie seemed satisfied by the motion and went on to the next row where it demanded the same rote offering from another terrified churchgoer.

  Debbi saw five undead standing in the pews among the crowd. They held hymnals in front of them, some leaning over to look at the books held by neighbors. They were moving their mouths, emitting gurgling-strangling sounds.

  Her eyes moved up to the altar where another zombie stood. It was gray green and decaying, but it looked out of place in this group. It was wearing the black robes of a Dominican friar. Debbi immediately thought of the nearby St. Calixtus burying ground and was chilled by visions of a massive outbreak of undead inside the town walls. Draped over its shoulders, the friar wore a fresh white surplice stained in blood. On the floor next to the altar lay Reverend Galloway in a growing pool of red.

  The undead friar raised its hands and slowly brought them down. The hymn-mouthing zombies closed their hymnals and took their seats. The friar moved from behind the podium. It ceremoniously stepped down and shuffled to the first row of the sanctuary. With outstretched hands, the cankerous thing approached an elderly couple who held each other and cowered in fear.

  Debbi pulled her sidearm and prepared to fire when the friar's head exploded accompanied by the Peacemaker's familiar crack. She heard Ross yell from below and more shots rang out. The crowd panicked, leaping to their feet, screaming, and racing for the exit. The undead reached out around them, grasping for fleeing humans. Ross's gunfire ceased—he would not risk the innocents—if he could avoid it. She heard him shouting for people to get out of his way.

  Debbi had a better angle. She sighted carefully on the zombie who insistently held out the offering plate at the fleeing parishioners. She blasted the dead man, sending it toppling over and the offering plate glittering through the air to fall with an empty clang in the corner. She scanned right and fired again, knocking a dead woman to the ground with a chest shot. Debbi prepared to shoot again, but a zombie about halfway up the sanctuary grabbed a woman and sank its teeth into her shoulder. They were too close together for a safe shot.

  She holstered her Dragoon and picked up the riot gun. She climbed over the balcony wall and launched herself into the air. She caught hold of a light fixture that hung ten feet over the sanctuary, a simple, heavy chandelier designed to look like a mass of lit candles. Her inertia carried her forward and she released. She dropped to the ground and rolled up on her feet and running. The zombie released its toothy grip on the woman and looked up, as if surprised. Debbi smashed the butt of the shotgun into the zombie's face. It staggered back Debbi roughly shoved the bleeding woman to the floor between the pews. The undead thing roared forward, all hands and teeth.
Debbi flipped the shotgun with one hand, fumbling her finger into the trigger guard and squeezing just as the shotgun barrel came to bear on the zombie's chest. The gun roared and the walking cadaver was slammed up the aisle.

  The thing struggled to get to its feet. Debbi stepped quickly to its side, dropped the barrel of the shotgun against the zombie's head and pulled the trigger.

  "Down!" She heard Ross's voice and she immediately dropped. A shotgun roared and she felt wet ooze drizzle over her. A heavy body dropped onto the carpeted aisle a foot away.

  She twisted and came up with her gun ready. The last few parishioners scampered past Ross out into the street. Debbi saw a pile of four zombies near Ross and two immediately in front of her. The undead friar was a few feet to her right.

  The wounded woman popped up between the pews. Ross aimed at her.

  "Stop!" Debbi shouted. "She's human!"

  Blood ran down the woman's shoulder. Debbi stepped over the two dead zombies to help her.

  The woman glared at Debbi and shoved her. "I hit my head when you pushed me! I'll be complaining to your boss." Then she stormed out past Ross.

  "Ma'am, you should really get that shoulder looked at," Debbi called after her. Then quietly, "Bitch."

  Ross rested the riot gun on his shoulder and looked around at the carnage. He shook his head. "These Methodists put on a helluva a service, don't they?

  Chapter 11

  Debbi and Ross moved quickly from the Ecumenical Church to St. Calixtus Cathedral. Ross attempted to contact the militiamen he dispatched there, but received no response.

  St. Calixtus had been built thirty-five years ago. It was a startling architectural feat because much of the basic structure was hewn directly from an existing tannis outcropping. In its prime, the black cathedral had shone brightly in the sun and caused light to shatter in remarkably beautiful facets. Wind had slipped along the glassy sides and flowed through the arches in ways that made parishioners swear the church itself was singing.

  Then the Worldstorm decapitated one of the facade bell towers and snapped many of the flying buttresses, causing part of the roof to collapse. The Archbishop withdrew with EXFOR and established his bishopric on a space station. Now the cathedral crouched on its five acres with its abbey and burying ground surrounded by a ten-foot tannis wall, built before Temptation spread out to incorporate the cathedral. The black structure had taken on a sinister taint and locals now swore they could hear the church wailing.

  Debbi and Ross rounded the street corner at a run with the high tannis wall on their right. Two hundred feet away, they saw several figures shambling out of the churchyard through a gate.

  "Damn!" Ross cursed. "Church is out. Won't be able to get in any restaurant in town now."

  "What?"

  "Nothing." Ross clicked his comlink. "Hey, Ringo!"

  "Ringo here."

  "I need support at St. Calixtus. A Hoss and a militia company to the gate on Cathedral Road."

  "But what about the backup you wanted at the Ecumenical Church? Should I ..."

  "That was years ago, Ringo! Dammit, keep up!" Ross clicked off. He looked at Debbi and shucked his scattergun. "Let's go thin the herd."

  "We're going in there? Just the two of us?" She regarded him with disbelief.

  He grinned and pulled two metal prisoner restraints from his belt as he started forward. "We're gonna lock the gate before this town is lousy with zombies."

  Debbi trotted to keep up. Six undead were just passing through the gate and at least five more were wandering up the street. All of them turned to look at the approaching Rangers with dead eyes.

  "You can count, can't you?" Debbi asked.

  Ross laughed. "Just keep them off me till I get the gate locked." He clamped the restraints between his teeth.

  Debbi ran ahead and drew the undead to herself. When they came within range, she slowed and opened up on them. She aimed for the body; it was more important to knock them down than risk missing a head shot. The scattergun boomed and caught three in the midsection. Two flew off their feet. The third staggered, but kept coming. She fired again. That one fell and a fourth stumbled behind.

  Ross cut around Debbi's right shoulder and raced for the gate. He passed two zombies who were staring at Debbi. They began to turn for him. He fired into them. Then again. And again. The blasts drove them to the ground; one had part of its head missing so it lay still.

  Ross forgot about the surrounding undead as he approached the heavy, iron gates. He stepped around one of the thick masonry gateposts and fired several times into the churchyard. A zombie a few yards inside the grounds, who had been hurrying to the gate because of the gunshots, caught the rain of pellets and toppled. Ross dropped his shotgun and ran into the churchyard. He grabbed one side of the gate and swung it closed. Then he raced to the other side.

  Ross caught sight of two zombies loping toward him with a palsied but frighteningly rapid pace. He drew his revolver as he pulled the gate closed and fired all six shots in quick succession at the closest of the rotting things. It staggered forward under the barrage until finally the fifth and sixth shots cut away vital musculature in the legs and it flopped to the ground only a few feet from Ross.

  The veteran Ranger held the gates together with one hand and pulled a metal restraint from his mouth. The second strip tumbled out and fell to the ground. He slipped the restraint around the center bar of one side of the gate and dexterously fed it out around the other side. Suddenly, from inside the gate, broken nails and bone-tipped fingers clamped onto his hand. A zombie pulled vigorously, trying to yank the gate from Ross's grasp. He saw gnashing teeth just on the other side of the bars. The undead bit his hand. Ross glanced at the rotting teeth that sank into his flesh.

  He heard the rhythmic firing of Debbi's gun behind him as he focused on the metal restraint strip. He had to fumble with one hand trying to use his fingers to guide the tapered end of the strip into the slot in the blunt end. He couldn't let go of the gate or he'd lose it. All he saw was the tapered end of the strip hovering near the slot. It was the only thing in the world. He subconsciously felt heavy hands falling on his shoulders and braced his feet to keep from being dragged away from the gate. But he kept his attention locked on the tab and the slot.

  An inch away.

  He felt something wet on his neck.

  Half an inch.

  The zombie inside the gate reached down and ripped the metal strip from Ross's hand. It cut through his hand like a razor and blood spurted.

  "Son of a bitch!" Ross shoved the gate in suddenly, knocking the zombie backwards. The thing recovered and charged with mouth wide. In one fluid motion, Ross pulled his large knife and reached out with the other hand. He seized the zombie's jaw by jamming his fingers into its mouth and his thumb under the chin. He pulled down immediately and the undead man stumbled forward. Ross jammed the long-bladed knife into the top of its soft skull. The tempered steel punched through the zombie's head. Ross withdrew the blade and stabbed down again. The zombie's limbs buckled and Ross tossed the twice-dead thing aside.

  He pulled the gates closed again, knelt, and picked up the fallen restraint strip with his bloody hand. He quickly looped it through, slipped the tab in place, and pulled it tight. Ross removed the third and last strip from his belt and attached that to the gate too.

  He heard a gunshot. He turned while kneeling to retrieve his shotgun and nearly tripped over a dead zombie that lay on the ground behind him. Debbi was standing on a pile of undead, many of them flopping like fish on a pier. She was covered in dark goo. She held her scattergun by the barrel in her left hand. The stock was shattered from zombie pummeling. In her right hand smoked her Dragoon. She stumbled back off the pile and crouched next to Ross, catching her breath.

  "Not bad. One riot, one Ranger." Ross reloaded his pistol. Then he reached up and pulled away a handful of black gore from the back of his neck. "You injured?"

  Debbi shook her head. She was unable to speak, chest heaving.r />
  Ross glanced over his shoulder. The gate clanged loudly as three zombies shook it, but the metal bands held fast.

  "I'll handle the wounded." He thumbed back the hammer of the Colt. "Keep an eye on the gate and make sure they don't rip it off the hinges. I think we've got this under control."

  They heard buzzing in their earpieces and through the static came a barely discernible human voice. "Can anyone hear me? For God's sake, please help me."

  "Get ready."

  Debbi waited in the back of the Stallion as the vehicle dropped into the center of the quadrangle of the St. Calixtus abbey. She saw no lurking undead in the cloister. The ship touched down and the rear door lowered.

  Debbi leaped out. "I'll be back in a minute. Wait for me."

  "I'll be here." Ross's voice sounded in her ear.

  The certainty in his voice gave her bone-weary, unnerved body the strength it needed. She heard the door rumble closed as she sprinted across the dead grass in the cloister square and crossed between two arches into the lower gallery. She looked left and right.

  No zombies.

  She raced for the end of the gallery while trying to contact the missing militiaman again. They had lost contact shortly after his first plea for help.

  "Tom? Tom? You read me?"

  Her comlink crackled and the militiaman's faint voice sounded. "Yes."

  "I'm inside the cloister. Stick tight. I'm on my way." The thought of this guy stranded and alone ate at her. She had to reach him. She wouldn't stand by and leave someone else behind.

  "Thank God," Tom murmured. "Thank God."

  Debbi reached a stone staircase at the corner of the courtyard. She took the steps two at a time. A dead militiaman was on the landing. He was partially devoured. She ran past him.

  The upper galleries were dark and empty. The inner wall was arched latticework overlooking the center cloisters. On the outer wall were rooms behind heavy wooden doors.

  To her right, two figures came up the stairs at the far end of the corridor. They wore the black robes of Dominican friars with the heavy hoods pushed back. Their faces were rotting masses of hanging flesh. When they reached the top of the stairs, they turned toward Debbi. They came on in a slow, measured pace. With habitual ease, she raised the Hellrazor pulse rifle and started for them. She was switching off full-auto when she saw the first friar draw an autopistol from his billowing sleeve. It fired a burst as Debbi scrambled back around the corner.