Hope And Undead Elvis Part 15

Rae screamed, and so did Hope. She'd never been so frightened before, not even when she was trapped in a bar sinking into the sands so many weeks ago. Hand in hand, they staggered past the convent, limping through the forest in their soft slippers as they tried to outrun the flames and the screams. The smoke made Hope dizzy, and the change in her body had never been more apparent than when running. Her entire center of gravity had s.h.i.+fted, and it made her feel clumsy and awkward, like she was going to trip and fall headlong at any moment.

And then her ankle turned, and she lost her grip on Rae's hand to sprawl onto the forest floor. Her first thought was of the baby in her belly, and hoped she hadn't hurt it. Then she noticed the taste of blood in her mouth; she'd bitten her tongue when she hit the ground. She rolled over to look back at Rae and a man rose up behind the nun and grabbed her. He wrapped one arm around her neck and pulled her arm back with the other. Rae's eyes bulged in terror but the man's wiry arm prevented her from drawing breath to scream.

Hope didn't have time to reach for her fallen pistol. She flung herself forward and grabbed hold of Rae's ankle and pulled. She wasn't going to let the young woman be carried away and raped, burned, or eaten. Rae slumped forward as the man tightened the pressure around her throat. The young nun became the rope in a desperate contest of tug-of-war.

The man's silence unnerved Hope as she grunted and pulled, trying to keep her new friend. He began nosing along the curve of the nun's neck, licking his lips like a dog antic.i.p.ating a treat. He released Rae's limp arm and reached around to grope one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His filthy hand left a sooty print on her habit. Behind him, a tree erupted in flames. The wash of heat made Hope's skin p.r.i.c.kle. The man's hips convulsed in a peculiar way and his eyes rolled as he snarled and laughed. She realized in revulsion that he was coming. The very act of wanton destruction and violent l.u.s.t had aroused him to an o.r.g.a.s.mic plateau.

He staggered as his muscles celebrated the e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n and Hope yanked on Rae with all her strength. The nun slipped from the man's grasp and fell to the ground with a dull thud like a child's doll dropped on the floor. The man's smoke-reddened eyes fastened upon Hope as if he'd just noticed her. His face transformed into a leer and he licked his black lips with a gray tongue. Hope tried to scrabble away, but he sprang forward with inhuman speed and locked his hands around her ankle.

She kicked at his hands, at his face, but he clung to her with the burning l.u.s.t of the fanatic. She glanced back and realized in horror his hair had caught on fire. It burned in bright counterpoint to the blazing tree behind him. As ashes fell around his face, he showed no sign of feeling the least bit of pain. He raised her ankle to his mouth.

Hope's fingers closed on the fallen Shepherds' pistol. She twisted at her waist and snapped off a shot. She could have blown a hole in her foot or missed altogether, wasting one of her two remaining precious bullets, but instead her aim was true. The bullet made an unspectacular third eye in the man's forehead, where a Hindu woman would have worn a red dot. The mark Hope made was a s.h.i.+ny, liquid black amid the soot and ash of his face. For a moment, she thought she'd have to shoot him again, but then he released her foot and fell the the forest floor.

Hope gasped for breath. She'd fought off the immediate threat, but the fire still approached and she didn't know how many more men were wandering the woods, looking to void their l.u.s.t and satiate their appet.i.tes upon her. She crawled over to Rae, keeping the gun clutched tight in case anyone else dared to show his face.

Rae was deathly pale. Hope held the back of her hand against the young woman's lips and felt a slight tickle of breath. "Rae, get up. Come on, get up. I can't carry you. Please, get up."

Another tree burst into flame. Hope looked up and saw the sparks leaping between branches. Soon the entire canopy around her would be afire. She had no more time. She tucked the gun into a pocket of her robe and wrestled Rae's limp body up and across her shoulders into a pa.s.sable fireman's carry. The nun would be her cross to bear on this next leg of her journey.

With that, Hope took one step, then another, then a third. Legs shaking and back aching with the strain of carrying Rae, she staggered deeper into the forest and away from the tortured screams of the dying in the convent behind her.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Hope and Rae Hope discovered quickly that a fireman's carry looked a lot easier in the movies than it was in real life. She staggered even under Rae's slight weight. With the unconscious nun curled across her back, Hope could feel every bone in Rae's body digging into her back. Hope tried not to think of the women they'd left behind, brutalized, eaten, and burned. But she believed whatever lay beyond for those poor women was a h.e.l.l of a lot better than what they would leave behind on Earth.

G.o.d was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Maybe she couldn't say it aloud, but she could sure as h.e.l.l think it. She'd heard so many people over the years talk about G.o.d's love. A loving G.o.d wouldn't let loose a plague on the Earth like the Righteous Flame, or taken away Hope's only friend in Undead Elvis, or given her a baby she had neither asked for nor wanted.

"a.s.shole," said Hope through clenched teeth as she carried Rae along. Hope slipped on a loose piece of deadfall and struggled to keep her feet under her and Rae on her shoulders. The slender girl moaned a little, just enough for Hope to hear over the distant crackle of flames. At least the screams had stopped. And Rae was, for the moment, still alive. Hope was determined she should stay that way, even if she had to carry her all the way out of the forest on foot.

That felt like a daunting proposition, especially since Hope hadn't eaten any better than Rae while in her coma. She'd lost some of her strength and muscle tone, but years of dancing had given her much more to fall back upon, and still she managed to put one foot in front of the other. The distance between her and the Righteous Flame eventually grew until she couldn't smell smoke or hear anything but the wind whispering through the canopy.

And still, she staggered onward. Like her journey through the endless, timeless desert, her world shrank to a few repet.i.tive motions. Move one foot forward. Rest. Move other foot forward. Rest again. Try not to think about the weight resting on her shoulders.

Step. Rest. Step. Rest.

Rae groaned and moved on Hope's shoulders. The noise startled Hope from her mesmerized state. She looked around and spotted a large tree with a sloping bole covered in lush moss. She knelt down, ignoring the screams of protest from her knees and thigh muscles, and rolled Rae onto the ground to lean against the tree.

The young nun's eyes opened but rolled around unfocused. Hope knelt in front of her and took gentle hold of Rae's head. "Rae? It's Hope. Are you all right?"

Rae's hands shot up to grab Hope's hands-not as if she were afraid, but instead overjoyed. "Your son..."

Hope's eyes widened. "What?"

Rae's eyes still rolled around like she had a concussion. Her voice, though soft, was insistent. "Your son... will be a great man." Her eyes closed and she slumped against Hope.

"My... son?" Hope clutched at the swell of her belly. As if in response, the baby within fluttered back and forth. Tears ran unchecked down Hope's cheeks. She'd felt guilty about falling, about not eating right, about losing herself in a coma for months. And still, the baby moved, safe in his warm coc.o.o.n.

His.

She'd been thinking of the baby as it for a long time. Now, whether Rae was right or wrong, Hope felt comfortable calling the baby he.

She'd have to start thinking of names.

Rae started, like she awakened from a nightmare. She jerked back from Hope, screaming.

"Rae, don't!" Hope hated that she had to shout, but knew her voice wouldn't penetrate into fog of deafness and terror.

Rae quieted her voice. Her breaths came short and sharp. "Who's there?"

"Rae, it's me. It's Hope." Hope dared to speak louder.

Rae swung her head around, frantic tears flying. "Hope? Where are you? I can't see. Why can't I see?"

Hope took Rae's hands in a gentle grasp. Although Rae jumped in fear, she let Hope guide her hands up to feel Hope's face, and down to feel the gradual swell of her belly. "I'm here."

"Hope? Oh G.o.d. I can't hardly hear, and now I can't see at all." Rae fell into Hope's arms and sobbed. "I'm so frightened."

Hope sighed. It had been hard enough carrying the young nun as far as she had. She was exhausted already, and a sightless Rae would only make things harder. Hope pulled Rae's wimple back to stroke the young woman's short, ragged hair. Rae buried her face against Hope's shoulder.

As she soothed the nun, Hope took stock of where they'd stopped: a gentle downhill slope peppered with ancient deciduous trees whose mossy sides gave off a heady aroma of life. She couldn't hear the crackle of flames anymore. Instead, birdsong, the persistent hiss of insects, and a burble of nearby running water filled her ears. She realized how thirsty she was from her flight. She pulled Rae off her shoulder and turned the nun's head so she could speak right into her ear. "Rae, can you hear me?" she called.

Rae nodded. "A little."

"We need water. There's some nearby. Can you walk?"

Rae clambered to her feet and took tight hold of Hope's hand. "Guide me."

Together, the two women made slow progress down the slope. Hope kept her ears open for the sounds of anyone approaching, but the only sounds not of the forest were from her and Rae's descent. As they walked, Hope spotted colorful mushrooms nestling at the bases of some trees and others seeming to grow right out of the sides of the trunks. Her stomach roiled. She didn't even like mushrooms but would have sat down to a feast of them, had she only known which ones weren't poisonous. She wished she'd been a girl scout or more outdoorsy or anything but a stripper. "Useless," she muttered, quiet enough that Rae wouldn't hear.

The sound of moving water expanded until it seemed to fill the air around them with its subsonic throb. They broke from the trees and Hope saw a s.h.i.+ning expanse of water flowing slow and steady toward the south. It sparkled in the afternoon suns.h.i.+ne with such unexpected beauty that it made Hope's eyes go all teary.

Cattails and reeds lined the banks, and gave off a rotten-sweet scent in the air. Rae's nose wrinkled. "River?" she asked.

Hope squeezed her hand and led the sightless woman down the bank. Mud along the edges threatened to take their slippers, so Hope slipped them off and tucked the mud-stained shoes into the pocket of her robe. She helped Rae off with hers. The young woman squealed with delight as mud oozed between her toes. "Come on," said Hope. "I bet the water's clearer away from the edge. We can drink there." She didn't know that to be a fact, but after a life spent making hasty decisions and living with the consequences, she wasn't going to change that now.

The river was one of the widest Hope had ever seen, so unlike the glorified trickles the denizens of the southwest had called rivers. It moved with slow, infinite patience, like it was the idling engine that drove the world. Hope wondered if it could be the Mississippi. She couldn't believe she'd come that far east, though. Maybe it was just a river without a name.

Hope and Rae waded out into the shallows, clutching at each other for balance. Hope could see fish circling about in the clear water, examining their toes as they kicked up clouds of silt with each step. Her stomach rumbled and she decided that after they had a drink, she'd try to catch them some sus.h.i.+. A little protein, a little fat... it would be almost like Heaven. If only she had some wasabi and rice to go with it, it would be perfect.

Cool water flowed past her knees as Hope bent down to cup water in her hands. She sniffed it. It had no scent but she felt as if she held weighty time itself within her hands. She lowered her lips to it and sucked in pure, sweet bliss. "Drink," she called to Rae. "It's okay."

They drank their fill, letting the river current carry away the pain of the journey and memories of fire and death. At last, Hope's raging thirst subsided and she felt enlivened, as if the water itself had provided her missing nutrients. She turned to Rae, who had sopped water down the front of her robe from bending down to dip her lips into the river. The nun's tiny b.r.e.a.s.t.s stood out against the thin fabric of her robe like she was still a preteen. Hope felt sorry; the girl was half-starved. Before she could turn her attention to the fish zipping around her feet, Rae clutched at her.

"Will you baptize me?" asked the nun.

Hope opened her mouth but no sound came forth. The request was the most unexpected thing she'd ever heard. Well, second-most unexpected, she amended as she felt her unborn son flutter.

"I know you're not Catholic," said Rae. "But maybe that doesn't matter anymore. The world is changing. For better or worse, I don't know. But I do know there's a very special child coming, and if it doesn't mean anything to be a Catholic at the end of the world, I believe your baby does mean something important. All I ask is to recognize that belief in a way which means something to me. So will you baptize me, Hope?" Rae found Hope's face with her hands and placed her fingers on Hope's lips to fully understand her reply.

Hope didn't want to do it. She wasn't some religious icon, nor did she aspire to be. All she wanted was to get to Graceland where she hoped to deliver her baby and live the rest of her days in peace, far away from the crazies with their torches and hunger for human flesh. But the fire of fundamentalist zeal didn't burn in Rae's face. Instead, Hope saw only honest, earnest belief.

She couldn't leave that seed untended when she could water it. Maybe the world would be a better place for it.

Hope said, "All right, I'll baptize you. What do I do? And what do I say?"

"You probably don't know what to do. Submerge me, then raise me back up. Say whatever you need for it to feel right." Rae's voice was soft and serene.

Hope led Rae out to where the water lapped at their waists instead of knees. Rae leaned back and Hope pushed her head below the river's surface. In that moment, she felt unworthy, like she was cheating Rae's beliefs. Who was she to do this?

But she pulled Rae from the water. Words swirled through her mind and coalesced into something meaningful. "Be at peace with yourself and others. Live and love and teach others to do the same."

Rae gasped as rivulets cascaded down her face, mixing with tears of joy from her sightless eyes. She clutched Hope's hands. "I will. Dear G.o.d, if you could only see what I see, Hope... It's the future!"

Hope found she was crying a little too. She clasped Rae to her and they clung to each other in the cool river current. "I hope it's a good one."

Rae didn't answer.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

Hope and the River Desperate hunger lent patience and quick hands to Hope, who snagged four fish with her bare hands as they swarmed around her feet. None of them were larger than her hand, and she had no idea if they were even edible, but was in no position to be picky. Rae squeaked in mild disgust as she held the dying, wriggling fish by their tails. Hope led her back to the sh.o.r.e. They hunkered down and used rocks to sc.r.a.pe off the scales. The fishes' flesh was mild-flavored and flaked away from the bones with little effort. It took only a tentative taste before each of the women dug into the raw fish with gusto, tearing into them with their fingers.

"I hope we don't get sick from these," said Hope around a mouthful of the sweet pink meat.

Rae didn't answer, but Hope knew the nun wouldn't hear her unless she practically screamed in her ear. With her blindness, her ability to read lips had vanished, and that had been her primary way of understanding what was said to her. The young nun didn't seem as bothered about it as Hope would have been. She smiled as she ate, lost in her thoughts. Her bare toes rested against Hope's leg, a rea.s.surance that she hadn't been abandoned.

Hope finished her second fish and tossed the bones back into the river where scavengers could fight over the inedible fins and tail. As the sun dropped behind the edge of the trees, Hope found a natural shelter beside an ancient fallen tree. She and Rae huddled together to sleep and await a fresh day to decide upon their next move.

Rae nodded off right away, but Hope sat and stared at the river as the sky turned dark and the Moon rose. Something about the river struck her as important. Her brain felt fuzzy from exhaustion and lack of food, but even so, it worked at the problem like a cat worrying after a spider just out of reach.

Then she had it. The water flowed south. Maybe it came from that lake where she'd bathed all those months ago. Or else it flowed into that lake. She couldn't remember crossing any bridges besides the one over the canyon. If she could find the lake again, she could find the road, and follow it to find the wreck of The Way.

And then she might find Undead Elvis.

Hope missed the walking corpse. Despite his propensity to never answer any questions, she'd grown used to his presence beside her with his immaculate white jumpsuit and perpetual, impenetrable sungla.s.ses. She'd given up wondering the how and why of his existence and accepted that he just was.

She missed being called Li'l lady.

Come morning, decided Hope, they'd catch more fish for breakfast and then head upstream. Maybe they'd find the lake, The Way, and her missing friend. Maybe they'd find something else instead. Either way, at least they'd be doing something instead of waiting for something to happen. With that last thought, Hope slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Hope awoke when the first rays of morning sun struck her face. Rae had snuggled against her, head nestled in the crook of her arm. The intimacy felt comforting, and Hope realized how much she'd missed the warmth of human contact. She could have s.h.i.+fted her arm and gotten up, but instead felt satisfied to cuddle.

Then she saw the boat, and her sense of security evaporated.

Hope sat bolt upright, her heart hammering in fear, and scanned the surrounding terrain to see if someone was nearby. She saw n.o.body. Birds sang their morning songs and dragonflies hovered over the river surface, dipping down to cherry-pick mosquito larvae. Maybe they were alone after all.

Hope touched Rae's lips with her fingers. The nun opened her eyes but Hope saw they had gone milky-white, as if she had cataracts. Rae felt for Hope's face. Hope held a finger up to Rae's lips. The young nun nodded, understanding. Hope squeezed her hand, then left the shelter where they'd slept.

n.o.body materialized from the forest to challenge her, so Hope approached the boat with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. It had run aground on the near bank, turned sideways, and hung up on a partially-submerged log. It was a small aluminum rowboat with dented sides and chipped white paint. Corrosion decorated the top edge of the gunwales.

The interior of the hull bore mute testimony to what had happened. A spray of dried blood decorated the boat's stern. A discarded pistol lay against the bottom with thick patches of rust all over it. Before she even checked it, Hope knew it would be empty. Whoever had been in the boat must have used his last bullet to end his life. Hope understood; she would have done the same thing if she'd had no hope for the future.

The missing boat's owner had left behind a backpack, tucked underneath the seat. Hope pulled it free and gasped at the treasures she found within it: four packages of those little cheese sandwich crackers, still wrapped tight in cellophane and decorated with pictures of smiling cartoon elves; two balled-up, mildewy t-s.h.i.+rts that smelled of a man's sweat and Old Spice deodorant; a pair of rag socks and some running shoes that were far too large for Hope's feet.

Hope started to return to Rae with the spoils from the boat, but then stopped. The boat itself was a worthwhile find, perhaps as much as the backpack within it. She hurried back to it and dragged it far enough up onto the bank that the current wouldn't pull it back in again. Satisfied with her efforts, Hope crouched down beside Rae to share the booty. They each ate one package of the cheese crackers, savoring each crumbly bite with the tang of processed spread. The crackers soothed Hope's acidic stomach and quieted the pangs of hunger. She could have torn open the other two packages and wolfed them down in a heartbeat, but wouldn't steal food from her friend and charge.

They washed out the t-s.h.i.+rts in the river water and spread them across the bottom of the boat to dry. Hope decided to claim the faded yellow one with the picture of the muscle car on it, for it reminded her of The Way. Rae would have to make do with the one with the Superman logo on it. Rae's feet were even smaller than Hope's, so Hope pulled on the rag socks over her slippers and found that the running shoes fit well enough that they weren't likely to fall off with every step.

Hope considered whether it might be better to clean it up the rusted pistol somehow in case she found some ammunition to fill it, but then she'd sighed. She wasn't a warrior of the lost wasteland, blazing a trail of bullets and bombs across the world. If she never had to fire a gun again, it would be too soon. She threw it into the river instead.

Rae would wear the backpack. It was one of those cheap nylon bags that Wal-Mart stocked every fall for back-to-school sales, with the awkward straps that never adjusted quite right. She shrugged it over her narrow shoulders and gave an undirected, beatific smile that made Hope feel that maybe things were going to be all right after all.

Hope thought about trying to catch another couple of fish for later, but the crackers seemed to have fortified her enough to move on upstream. She wondered if she'd find any civilization northward, and if so, would it be one in which she'd feel comfortable and safe. She allowed herself a wry smile as she wondered if there might even be a Starbucks. Maybe the chain had grown so powerful that it could even stave off the end of the world.

If so, she hoped they'd let her buy a latte on credit.

Two paddles lay in the bottom of the boat. Hope helped Rae get situated in the boat at the back end. What was that called again? Hope couldn't remember; she'd never spent any time in boats. She pressed one paddle into Rae's hands, and then turned the young woman's head so she could shout into her ear. "Rae, can you hear me?"

"Yes." Rae's voice sounded thick and m.u.f.fled, like she'd forgotten how to use it.

"We're going upstream, looking for a road by a lake. That's the road I was on when you found me. We need to go back to where my car crashed. We need to find... We just need to go there. You paddle on one side. When you get tired, switch to the other. If you need a break, just say so and we'll pull over."

"All right," said Rae. "I'm glad you're with me, Hope."

"Yeah, I'm glad not to be alone too. Let's go." Hope pushed the boat off the bank, splashed through the shallows, and then climbed in.

Paddling against the current wasn't as hard as she'd feared it might be, but the actual work of paddling was very tiring, and her shoulders weren't as strong from dancing as her legs. She'd never been much of a pole dancer, and her muscles complained each time she raised the paddle to dip it back into the water.

In spite of their awkward efforts, the boat was making slow progress upstream, and once they settled into a rhythm with the paddles, the progress was steady as well. Trees pa.s.sed by on either side, all looking the same as their brethren. The only sign they were moving forward at all were the bends of the river as they traversed it. Hope's world shrank to the persistent drumbeat of their motion. Splash of paddle into the water. Creak of shoulders pus.h.i.+ng it back. Rest for a moment. Whoosh of wet air as paddle goes up and forward again. Splash creak rest whoosh splash creak rest whoosh. She wished Undead Elvis were with them to lend his voice in accompaniment to the rhythm track they were laying down.

To break up the monotony, Hope said, knowing that Rae couldn't hear her, "I almost didn't want to wash this s.h.i.+rt. It smelled like Old Spice, and that reminded me of my dad. He was one of those dads who smoked and drank, and you could smell it in his sweat on a hot summer day. Sometimes, when he'd hug me, before he left, I'd wrap my arms around myself to try and hold that scent in tighter to me, like I could keep it from going away. Marlboro Lights, bourbon, and Old Spice cologne. That was the smell of my dad. n.o.body wears it anymore these days. All these young boys with their body sprays and s.h.i.+t smell so fake and artificial. When I smelled it on these s.h.i.+rts, it made me think of him and how much I never got to say to him. He left when I was only three. I wonder what happened to him, Rae. I wonder if he found whatever he was looking for."

Hope jumped as Rae put a hand on her shoulder and asked in her thick voice. "Are you all right, Hope? You stopped paddling."