4: Paths Taken Yet Unknown

'Man knoweth not the price thereof.'


-Job 28:13






She has an uncanny knack for being completely silent. But people speak with more than just words. She is scared, obviously, but her fear goes much deeper than just the shock I see in others. She fears something, someone. Perhaps the loss of someone?


I feel lucky to be counted in the company of the Lord. As should she.


We’ve made our way up Eastlake Ave. with surprisingly few encounters. We killed off more than I thought, apparently. I still see the smoke from REI when I turn around. Thank God we’re back and moving.


“I’m sorry.”


I turn to her. She turns away. For what?


“I didn’t mean to insult you back there. I was just, just scared is all. I really thought we were finished.”


Speak ye unto the rock before their eyes, and it shall give forth his water.


Apology accepted. But you really need to have more faith in the Lord’s plan. He has shown himself to be quite versatile when the situation calls for it.


“Listen, I don’t mean to disagree…”


And yet you already are. She pauses, then starts again.


“…I don’t mean to disagree but that back there had nothing to do with God’s will. It was only you Isaic. You saved us with those bombs of yours. And if it wasn’t for you, I would’ve been dead back on the viaduct. God didn’t reach his hand down and smite the zombies for us, you did that.”


God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them. You understand that right? We are him. He acts through us. We are as much a part of His life as He is a part of ours, Zoe. You can’t just forget your past; you can’t forsake your roots. They’ll always find you, and if you have ignored them they tend to come back biting at your ankles.


One of those creatures careens out from an alley way ahead, skids into a turn, runs with inhuman speed at us. Zoe drops back, covers her face.


Walk forward, draw shovel, it races on three legs, cheeks gashed open, eye flopping out of its socket. Side step. Swing.


The splatter from the head is minimal. Upper half of its head soars high as it crumples down beside me.


It’s all done in five seconds.


Zoe stands, lowers her hands. Shame is written on her face.


What makes her so afraid? How has she survived this long? She said she came up from California, U.C. Berkley. How could someone with so little faith in Him have ever held His attention?


There’s something about her.


We walk, her shame keeping her silence, my awareness keeping me occupied, this rain keeping us always drenched and staying to whatever cover there is that doesn’t look dangerous. We come up to up to an intersection with East Allison Street. She starts going right. What are you doing?


“Can’t we get to the bridge this way?”


Yes, but it’s not as straight a shot as it would be if we kept on Eastlake. Why do you want to go that way?


“Well, it’s just, Eastlake crosses under I-5, and I don’t really wanna be under that with the possibility of running into zombies.”


But Allison goes under I-5 as well.


“Yea, but Eastlake’s a bigger street, more traffic used to go on it. More vehicles.”


I see her point. Okay, let’s go down Allison.


We turn down Allison. I-5 gives us some much needed shelter from the rain. There’s a burning vehicle under the overpass though. Out from it wanders…a person?


Zoe lowers her gun. Begins to rush over to try and help. Grab her.


“Hey, what the hell?”


Hold on a second. Watch its movements.


“That guys on fire, we’ve gotta help him! Lemme go!” She struggles. The person falls to the ground, rolling around. It clenches its hands to its face. He lets out a scream. I let her go.


She rushes forward. Follow her. I pull out blanket and smother the fire. She brings out her canteen and pours it over him. He’s calmer now, his burns are pretty bad though.


“W-who…ugh…” He lets out a scream. Cover his mouth. 


You need to be very quiet; if you keep screaming like that you’ll draw every beast from a mile away. Breathe, just breathe. Let go of my hand. He sobs quietly.


“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be fine now.” Zoe holds his head.


His eyes are very dilated. His breathing sounds very irregular. He has an open wound, but no blood spills out from it.


Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.


Zoe looks at me. “What are you doing?”


Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. Push, Zoe out of the way.


“What they hell, Isaic!?”


Do you accept Jesus Christ into your heart as your Lord and Savior?


The man looks at me. Eyes lose focus. They begin to redden.


Do you accept Jesus Christ into your heart as your Lord and Savior?


“Isaic, what are you doing? He needs to rest!” Hold him down, pin his arms. “Isaic!”


Do you accept Him into your hear? Will you let him absolve you of your sins? Will you take communion?


“Isaic, wha-“His eyes are bloodshot now; the color begins to drain from his face.


I don’t have much time, he must have just woken up.


Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.


Kneel on his stomach.


“Isaic will you just cut this bullshit out already?”


Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.


Reach slowly to my back. He squirms beneath me. His eyes are set upon me, the last vestiges of his soul being torn from him.


Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.


Draw my sword. Zoe starts at me, hold her back with one hand.


But deliver us from evil: for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever.


Push Zoe away as gently as I can. He writhes beneath me, tries to free his hands.


He looks at me. There is no God there.


Amen.


Bring down my longsword. Pierces through his head. His writhing ceases. Stand up. Sudden impact from the left, fall back down.


“What the fuck is your problem Isaic!? You just killed an innocent man! Wha-“


Do you see him bleeding!? She stops hitting me.


“What are you-“


Do. You. See him bleeding?!?


She turns and looks at the corpse. “N-no. Why is he not…”


He was turning. His body was being consumed by this plague. She puts a hand to her mouth. “What?”


He showed all the classic signs of a person who is about to lose his humanity to the plague. Usually a person awakens once they turn, but he must have been shocked out of his dying state before he had fully been consumed. It’s lucky that we were able to save him.


“Save him? SAVE HIM? What the hell do you mean?! You put a fucking sword through his head Isaic you-“


I DID NOT KILL HIM! I saved him from a terrible fate! Now if you will please excuse me, I need to finish.


“Finish?! What exactly do-“


Please be quiet Zoe. Push her aside. Kneel beside him, An Spiorad Naomh laid across my lap, stained brown with this man’s tainted blood.


Leaba imeasc na naomh go raibh acu agus ag an chlann mac is iníon atá leo.


I close his eyes. Kiss his forehead. Take out two of my metal coins and place them on his eyes. Stand, start cleaning An Spiorad Naomh. Zoe stares at me.


“Isaic…w-what the, what did you-“


It’s an old Gaelic blessing. For the dead.


“You’re Irish?”


Yes.


She falls silent. Were you expecting me to stagger around singing songs about the old country in a half drunken stupor all the time?


"Well, no, but I thought you'd at least have red hair or an accent or..something..." 


Sorry to disappoint. Wipe the blood off. I don’t know many good jigs either; apparently the good Lord didn’t see fit to bless me with my mother’s talent.


I smile. She just stares. But her eyes, they say so much. They tell me she doesn’t understand. They tell me she wishes she could.


They tell me, she is afraid. Of me.


The seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand. Ah well.


In time.


Shall we press on then?