The Living Dead 2 (The Living Dead, #2)(68)

“Come on, Reverend.” I waved at him, trying to keep my voice low. The movement attracted the attention of one of the lizards. It raised its bloody snout and snorted, cocking its head sideways and studying Terry and me. I’d been charged by a bull once, while crossing a pasture. The lizard had the same look in its eyes as the bull right before it charged.

“Terry,” I whispered, “don’t move. Just stay still.”

He nodded. The color drained from his face.

“Reverend,” I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. “You need to get in this creek right now. It don’t matter if you can’t swim. Terry and I will carry you. But get your ass over here.”

Nodding, he inched forward. The water rippled around his knees. His lips moved in silent prayer. His eyes were closed.

“That’s it,” I whispered. “Easy now. Nice and slow.”

I glanced at the lizards. All four of them watched us now. They stood stiff and tense, ready to spring. One of them was missing an eye. The left side of its face was a mass of scar tissue left over from some long-ago fight.

“Giants in the Earth,” the Reverend muttered. “Leviathan.”

It was hard to hear him over the churning water. “What?”

“It’s a Bible verse, Mr. Hogan. There were giants in the Earth in those days.”

“Only verse I know is ‘Jesus saves’. Reckon I’ll take your word for it.”

He stopped, gasping as the water reached his crotch. One of the lizards crept towards the stream.

“C-cold,” the Reverend stammered. “It’s so cold.”

“That’s okay. We’ve got you. Terry, give him a hand.”

“Hogan,” Deke called.

“Little busy right now,” I said.

The lizard on the bank lowered its head and sniffed the spot where the Reverend had been standing. The other three turned away from us and stared into the forest. I followed their gaze and saw why. The three dead coyotes I’d noticed earlier had followed us into the canyon. Now they stood under the tree line, watching us with blank, lifeless eyes. One of them was missing an ear. Another’s broken ribs were sticking through its fur. They didn’t pant. Didn’t growl. They just stared. Flies hovered around them in clouds.

“Oh hell,” Terry said.

The Reverend’s eyes grew wider. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He started to turn around, but I stopped him.

“Never you mind. Just give Terry your hand. Let’s get out of here before they decide to have us for dessert.”

As Terry reached for the Reverend’s trembling hand, the lizard on the bank leaped into the stream, splashing water over our heads. At the same time, the dead coyotes lumbered into the clearing. The other three lizards went for them. The one with the missing eye seized a coyote in its massive jaws and shook the corpse back and forth.

The Reverend and Terry both slipped, sinking below the surface. They came up sputtering and flailing. The Reverend clung to Terry’s shoulders, almost dragging him back down again. The lizard surged forward, squealing. I splashed water at it in an attempt to scare it off, but all I did was make it swim faster.

“Let go,” Terry choked. “Can’t breathe…”

Sobbing, the Reverend clutched him tighter. They both went down again, and then the lizard was on them, close enough that I could feel its breath on my face. It smelled like rotten meat. Its jaws closed around Terry’s head and lifted him out of the water. His legs and arms jittered, and I could hear him screaming inside its mouth. The creature gutted him from groin to neck with one of those sickle-shaped claws, while holding the Reverend beneath the surface with its hind legs.

On the far shore, Janelle, Deke, and Jorge screamed. I backpedaled, unable to take my eyes off the slaughter. The lizard was busy with Terry and the Reverend, and paid me no mind. Neither did the other three. They feasted on the horses and coyotes.

I stumbled out of the stream and shouted at the others to run. Without looking back, we plunged into the forest, panicked and terrified. Soon, the greenery swallowed us.





We made camp inside a hollowed out tree. I’d never seen anything like it before, though I’d heard tell of some big trees out in California, and reckoned this might be like them. It was large enough for the four of us to sit inside comfortably. The top had snapped off at some point, but the trunk was still standing. We were able to fashion a crude roof using leaves and branches. There were bugs inside—beetles and ants and such—bigger than any I’d ever seen, but harmless. Janelle was afraid of them, but she was more afraid of what might be outside.

All we had was what had been in our pockets—a bit of paper and a pencil, Deke’s compass, a pouch of chewing tobacco, Janelle’s frilly lace handkerchief, some money, and other odds and ends.

It got cold after the sun went down. We had no matches or flint. We huddled together for warmth. Janelle fell asleep with her cheek resting on my shoulder. When she breathed, her breasts rubbed against my arm, soft and warm. That made everything we’d been through almost worth it.

A few lizards passed by, close enough for us to see them. None of them were like the ones from the creek. One was the size of a cow, with a long neck and even longer tail. It sniffed around the base of the tree, but was more interested in eating leaves than it was in us. Another one, a baby judging by its size, had a bill like a duck. One of the creatures shook the ground as it lumbered by. Trees snapped, crashing to the earth. We saw its legs and hind end, but not the rest of it. Some of the lizards had feathers. Most didn’t. Right before sundown, the forest got real dark as something flew overhead. I poked my head out and looked up. Through the branches, I caught a glimpse of a flying creature with a fifteen-foot wingspan. It reminded me more of a bat than a bird.