-Psalm 91:15
"Uh-uh. There's no way Isaic. No. How the hell-" A screech and she turns around and fires. A grey green crimson peppers the air, filtered by the rain.
"How the hell are we supposed to get all the way up to the interstate now Isaic!?"
It does seem to be an issue. We're broken, tired, and a sea of those things are between us and our one way out of it. I think we need to find shelter.
"What was that?" The rain and the cries of them fill the air, almost covering her voice as well.
I said, we need shelter.
"Well no shit, Sherlock. But where." Another round pumped, another pooled shell of a soul.
I don't know! If we hold tight maybe someone will come and find us.
"And who's supposed to find-"
As if on cue, our answer comes. A vehicle, smoking from the effort, reels from out of a side street. Machine gun fire erupts from the top. Zoe jumps and slips, dropping the pair of us to the muddy, bloody pavement. Bodies soon join us all around. My face scraps the ground as I try to not swallow the water.
"Get in now!" A call from between the gunfire. Zoe attempts to stand. Pain wracks my leg. I just need to stand, just limp a little ways, that's all it'll take for our salvation.
"Come on! Hurry up!" The clink of hot metal pours over the ground by the vehicle. It seems to be some sort of modified SUV. No exterior, just a chassis, wheels and a big gun on top. Zoe drags me behind her to the guy reaching out his hand from what would be the side door. She falls into a seat. I land next to her.
The Lord works in mysterious ways.
We peel out of that dead end to the squeal of wet rubber. The night rends itself apart with the hellish calls of the creatures surrounding us. They pour out of the buildings surrounding us into the street, drawn to the noise of the coverterd SUV. The rain pelts us, fills the world, coloring the scene like some sort of putrid fantasy.
The man drives with reckless abandon, a mad gambit to get to the highway turn on. We make it, and the he edges car through the permanent traffic jam of a graveyard that is now all the interstates are.
The interstate. God help us all.
We wind slowly through the cares, turned brown, grey and green from the rain and rust of decay. There are surprisingly few of those monsters here. Do you know what happened to them?
The driver chuckles. "Those things are slow as hell. They followed us down yesterday when we crossed over and they're still trying to get back up. Bridge should be clear by now."
The driver turns around, looks between the legs of the gunner. "You guys sure ar-"
He locks eyes with Zoe through the curtains of rain.
The world seems, for a moment, to pause.
"Zoe?"
A moment, a grasp at recognition passes between the two of them. Her eyes widen as his mouth breaks into a smile. And then...
"Jesus Christ Brenden watch out!!"
And now time moves to fast. There's not even enough room for anything to be done. With a sickening crunch, a terrible grinding, and lurch forward. There's only noise, metal, terrible pain.
And suddenly my eyes open. The raindrops fill my eyes. The burning barely hurts compared to my leg. There's noise, terrible noise. Not that grinding sound. It sounds like I'm back in that house again...
"Brenden, come on! Get up! Get up! Come on, not you too!! COME ON!! BRENDEN!! GOD DAMNIT BRENDEN DON'T Y-YOU, don't y-y-you..."
That same terrible lament, only broken now. Shattered. I turn to see her next to the driver, Brenden, crossbeam protruding from the back of his head.
I hear screams in the distance.
Zoe. Zoe help me. There's a huge weight on my legs. Try to shift. Only pain. Zoe get over here, we have to leave.
Her body shakes, cradling the corpse to her. The distant screams draw ever so slightly louder.
The pounding rain, the desperate tears, the pain, the noise, the noise!
And then He's there. He stands up, out of where I do not know. There's a fierce glow about Him and I see what I must do.
He holds out His hand, a smile upon his lips.
Faugh a ballagh.
Pain rushes, and I push. Push away the metal, and stand. I pull out my sword, use it as a crutch. Zoe come on we have to go.
She's lost. I pull her and throw her away, she lands splashing on the ground, the screams grow stronger.
Faugh a ballagh.
I lift Brenden over my shoulder, and suddenly I'm in the driver's seat, Brenden beside me, Zoe in back. They're on the bridge now.
The tires squeel, trying to pull the car free of the semi it crashed into. The wheels don't catch, the rain is too thick, there's not enough friction, the screams overwhelm.
Faugh a ballagh.
And then we're moving backwards. The sick crunch of bone and flesh behind us, and I shift, and the car lurches forward down the interstate.
Jesus, Lord of Men, defend and watch over me.
Faugh a ballagh.
The car ricochets off the side of others, bounding across the bridge. Movement comes from up ahead, towards where the bridge meets land again.
Protect me so the I may live on to serve you.
Faugh a ballagh.
Yes, they're all coming up from the front. The interstate passes under another bridge on land, an overpass. Both off-ramps are blocked, and so is the way ahead. A dead end, filled with that yowling filth of man.
Guide me so that I may carry on to whatever end You deem.
Faugh a ballagh.
And the bridge ends, and there the horde lies, before the great impasse that is the blocked interstate. Behind, they lumber along the bridge after us. In front, they shuffle towards our new arrival. There's no way out.
And fill me with Your grace, so that I may be a visage of your compassion.
Faugh a ballagh.
I try to turn the car around, aim back where we came from, get it back across the bridge to the city center. Maybe we can find a way out there. But the wretches have caught up, and there's no where to go.
The car tilts, the turn was too hard, and suddenly we're rolling. Screams, inhuman and not, intertwine amongst the pounding wind. That noise! That great noise of sorrow, from all around, from the earth itself.
I lay upon the ground, my vision crimson. Blood pools away from my face, intermingling with the sickened water. Slow feet tumble towards me, but my vision is clouded. I can just make out the overpass, that great jumble of cars which blocks our way. And the feet draw ever closer.
So, this is my end. I can't even think. I thought I was loved. But perhaps that even in such times as these I can only expect the reality: that death must come to all.
I try to stand, I slip. I try again. Shaking, I look to the overpass, to my downfall, to my awakening death.
I've only ever done right, only ever tried to glorify You, my love. If this is to be it, then I will meet it with open arms.
I accept your righteous end for me.
But God always has a plan.
A bright light shines from the overpass. I see Him. He stands there as perfect as an angel, greater. I see Him reach out His hands, and His anger pours out over and amongst the heathen swarms.
He's more beautiful than I could ever see.
Fire, water, flesh, wind. That noise, and I fall.
Faugh a ballagh.
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