*
DAVID AND LARRY, the two older farmhands, showed up later that night and explained what needed to be done. First, and most important, was guarding the wall, the barrier that surrounded the compound and kept the rabids away. Platforms and walkways had been constructed along the inside of the wall, giving the watch a clear view over the open field of anything coming out of the woods. Not only did the platforms need to be manned, but the bonfires that burned just outside the wall needed to be continuously fed. And someone needed to stay in the barn with the animals, for they would panic if they so much as smelled a rabid outside.
Zeke, Darren, Jake and I were drafted to help with the night watch. Ruth also volunteered, hoping to be close to Zeke, but the job required that you knew how to shoot a rifle, and delicate little Ruth was scared of guns. So she was put in charge of watching the sheep and goats, while I was shown how to use a hunting rifle. I tried not to act smug at the look on Ruth’s face when they passed me the gun without hesitation, but it was hard.
“Nice,” Zeke muttered, gazing down the barrel of the rifle, sweeping it over the fields below. We had taken the platform closest to the forest, where we had come out with Joe the previous night, and Zeke was kneeling with his elbows resting against the railing. “I used to have a rifle like this. Scoped, too. It made shooting game a lot easier, till I dropped it from a tree and cracked the stock.” He grimaced and lowered the gun. “Jeb…was not happy with me.”
I winced in sympathy. “How long do you think we’ll be here?” I asked, leaning against the railing, hoping the rickety planks would support me. “It’s not like Jeb to stop like this. Why is he even considering staying here a few nights?”
“He told me he wants to stay until the ‘Joe thing’ is resolved,” Zeke replied. “Patricia asked him to pray for Joe, but I think it’s more than that. I think he wants to be certain that we’re not leaving a demon behind.”
A demon? I thought, but movement out in the field caught my attention. “Zeke,” I muttered, pointing toward the woods. “Rabids.”
Zeke straightened, bringing up the rifle, while I watched the monsters creep closer, their awful, rotten stench drifting over the breeze. There were three of them, pale and emaciated, moving across the field, straight toward the wall. They moved unnaturally, sometimes on all fours, sometimes hunched over, their jerky, spastic gait making my skin crawl. Two of them were completely naked, but one still had the remnants of a tattered dress clinging to its body, dragging it through the mud.
“Rabids!” Zeke called, his voice echoing through the compound. Instantly, Darren and Larry scrambled down from the platform opposite ours and hurried toward us. They clambered up, the platform creaking under their weight, and I stepped back to make room. Zeke dropped to a knee and leveled his gun at the rabids, but Larry held up a hand.
“No, don’t waste ammo,” he warned, eyes narrowed as he peered past the smoke and flames from below. “They’re too far out still, and it’s nearly impossible to kill them in one shot. Let ’em come closer, get a good bead on them, before you start firing. We might not need to shoot at all.”
The rabids suddenly jerked to a halt, gazing at the wall with blank, hungry expressions. Zeke and Darren kept their guns trained on them, but it seemed the rabids knew just how close they could be without getting fired on. They skirted the edge of the field, keeping just out of reach, ducking behind trees and into bushes, never getting close enough for a clean shot.
Beside me, Zeke made a noise that was almost a growl. I stared at him in amazement. His shoulders were stiff, tense, and his eyes glittered with hate. “Come on,” he muttered, and the cold rage in his voice shocked me. “Come a little closer, just a few more steps.”
“Easy, boy,” Larry soothed. “Don’t be too eager. We don’t want to attract more with the commotion.”
Zeke didn’t answer, his entire focus on the rabids below. He seemed different now; the smiling, easygoing boy I knew was gone. In his place stood a dark stranger with cold, ruthless eyes, his expression frozen into a flinty mask. Watching him, I felt a stab of apprehension. In that moment, he looked very much like Jeb.