He sank to his knees with the realization of his true nature. The ravaged dead came, drawn by some flickering instinct to gather together, and stood around him until their corrupted faces swam in his vision. They did not frighten him anymore.
He was undead. He was one of them. As their hands reached for him he knew they weren’t attacking him-they no longer possessed the brainpower necessary for aggression. They were reaching for him as a gesture of solidarity. They knew what he was.
Garywas a monster, too.
The dead man with no eyelids stared at him with an openness, an innocence thatGary was astounded he'd never seen before. There was no evil there, no horror. Just simple need. Their faces were no more than inches away from each other.Gary leaned his head forward and touched his forehead to the slack, papery skin of the other’s cheek.
When he had recovered himself he commanded the faceless woman to help him to his feet, and she did. Come, he told them, summoning them just as his mysterious benefactor had summoned him. Together the small band of them, Gary and the mindless dead, headed north toward Midtown. It felt so very good,Gary decided, not to be alone anymore.
Garyhad life once more, and now he also had a purpose. He would find this strange tattooed man and learn what he knew.Gary had so many questions and for some reason he was convinced the benefactor would have some answers. He kept his little band heading resolutely northward, up into Midtown. They would enter the park soon enough. Was that their destination? In a way it didn't matter. In some zen fashion the journey was enough.
When he saw the vision again the benefactor's face was furrowed with concern. “You're getting closer but be careful. I think you are about to be attacked.”
“Huh?”Gary asked but the blue tattooed man was gone.Gary turned to look at the noseless man on his right, wondering if the other dead had seen the apparition or if it was just some glitch inGary 's personal nervous system.
The man with no eyelids stared hard at something in the middle distance. BeforeGary could speak he slumped lifelessly to the ground.Gary looked down and saw the bullet wound in the back of the dead man's head long before he heard the gunshot.
The next round hit the sidewalk and sent chips of concrete rolling acrossGary 's feet. He was being shot at. “Not fucking again,” he whined.
David Wellington - Monster Island
Monster Island
Chapter Four
I shaved with an electric razor plugged into a junction box in the wheelhouse. Every time I turned the razor on or off I got a little shock but it was safer than trying to use a straight razor on a rocking boat and when I was done I felt infinitely better about myself and the mission’s chances.
Which is not to say, I thought as I rinsed out the razor with water from theHudson, that I thought anything would be easy. Just that we might not all die.
When I’d finished I called for my maps ofNew York. I studied them for a long time, thinking there had to be a better way. There were hospitals all over the city. Most of them were on the East Side, which meant they were impossible to get to due to the raft of human corpses clogging theEast River. All of them, I knew, would have been looted during the evacuation.
I still knew one place where we could find the drugs we needed. The UN building-my first choice. It was also impossible to access from the east.
“Osman,” I shouted, standing up, “come look at this.” I showed him my map and indicated our next stop-Forty-Second Streetin Midtown. He studied theWest Side, reading the names of the buildings.
“‘The Theater District,’” he read aloud. “Dekalb, you want to take in a show?”