Nzambi of the Dead Part 2b
Nzambi of the Dead
Part Two
Day 125
Lancelot slowed down, the tires thumping against the hot street, and looked up at the tall metal wall. It extended beyond what they could see, hidden partly by trees and stacked up cars. Its’ massive structure was compiled of different sheets of steel welded together. Their construction looked rushed, parts of its wall was already starting to rust. Two huge doors made of the same metal made up the entrance gate.
He pushed on the brakes bringing their ride to a stop, setting his foot down to balance them. Merlin got off. Lancelot followed him with his eyes as he moved to the wall, pressed his palm against the thick barrier that stood between them and the Haven. It had taken them a few days, but they had made it. They were lucky that when they had first discovered the journal containing the map, they had not been too far off the path.
Merlin had been the one to suggest that they turn back. Apparently the person who had been with Merlin when he had found him had been heading to the same location, or at least that is what they had managed to gather by the notes he had left in the journal. The first part of the writing was Merlin’s own along with the writing on the map, so there must have been a reason for him writing it. Lancelot had found himself unable to deny Merlin the chance to try and find some answers to his lost past, not to mention Arthur.
Merlin still couldn't remember who the guy had been, or anything concrete from the last four months. Bits and pieces started to come to him in his sleep, while he was awake along with the pain from before. A lab and dead bodies haunted Merlin, making him start to believe that they were only nightmares. He had started to mumble a few words while his body jerked against whatever was causing his nightmares and two words always repeated themselves, Haven and Arthur.
Lancelot shook the memories off and shifted in his seat. He was about to suggest that they first check the rest of the wall, maybe someone was standing guard in another entrance somewhere, when Merlin’s fingers wrapped around one of the handles and tugged.
Nothing.
He tugged with both hands. The door creaked this time and gave in, slowly moving a few inches. Merlin slipped his fingers in the crank and pushed harder. The door didn't want to move any further. He looked back at Lancelot.
“Come help me, it’s as heavy as it looks.”
“I don’t know, Merlin, something feels off. Where is everyone?” Lancelot replied, refusing to budge from his seat.
“Maybe they are gathered in the center of the city and only come to patrol at night. Look there’s no zombies anywhere.” Merlin stated turning his attention back to the door. “That is good, right?”
Lancelot still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he had, but gave in to Merlin’s argument and decided to help him before he hurt himself. He pulled at the faded handle with both his hands, his muscles contracting against the strain from the door. It moved a few more inches, then a few more. The gap was big enough for them to squeeze in one at a time. Once on the other side they pushed against the door, finally prying it open wide enough for Lancelot’s motorcycle to fit through.
He rushed back out without glancing at the city, and drove the motorcycle past the open gate. “So how do you suggest we close it back up?” Lancelot asked looking at Merlin’s back and then past him to the city ahead.
His question no longer of importance, it didn't matter if one or several zombies wandered in. There wasn't much of a city to overrun. The city looked barren, smashed cars and overturned tanks blocked most of the main street. Smoke rose from several buildings and countless bodies laid scattered everywhere, trails of blood and flesh hinting at where more bodies had laid. Litter filled up whatever was left untouched.
“Merlin, we should move on, try another city farther west.” Lancelot called out, driving a short distance ahead and then turning back to stop next to his friend. “There is nothing here.”
“No, someone has to be left. Arthur has to be here. This couldn't have happened without a warning, you saw the writing about the broadcasts.” Merlin refused to believe his eyes; his heart said Arthur was alive. “They kept broadcasting every day up till a month ago, that’s got to mean something.”
“Merlin we should go back.”
“Back, back to what, Lancelot? This was my last chance in finding Arthur and any hope of regaining the last four months. I wrote on the journal that I left him a message telling him I was heading here.” Merlin looked back to the city and its streets full of death. “I led him here, I have to find him.”
“Fine, get on. We’ll go check it out, but only for a few hours. If we don’t find any proof of someone still alive I’m dragging you back out that gate.” Lancelot stated, with every intention of doing as he claimed.
They rode towards the most crowded parts, past what used to be shops, newsstands, and bus stops, the motor roaring through the quite city. Lancelot slammed on the break and rushed towards a bus stop, he looked for the bus route map and yanked it off the bulletin. He spread it in front of Merlin.
“If the city was being overrun with zombies, where would you head to?” He asked out loud glancing over the map for familiar markings.
“The police station,” They both said.
“The police station it is.” Lancelot replied folding up the map and sticking it in his back pocket.
Two figures walked into view ahead of them. Lancelot grabbed Merlin and pulled him towards a metro bus that was junked on the side of the street. The two figures moved closer, they strolled slowly towards the motorcycle, tilting their heads to the side trying to hear the sound that had attracted them to the area. Merlin tugged at Lancelot’s arm trying to move him further back, to the other side of the bus. Lancelot eyed his motorcycle and his crossbow sticking out of one of the bags still tied to it.
“We don’t know how many more there could be.” Merlin whispered catching on to what Lancelot was planning and tugged harder on his arm. “Come on, we can try to sneak away.”
Lancelot grabbed the gun tucked in his boot and turned to face Merlin. He was met with an empty sidewalk. He moved back to the front to glance in the direction of the zombies. No Merlin. Then a sound from inside the bus caught his attention, it was very faint like a muffling sound, but enough for Lancelot to act. He looked through the shattered window, catching movement inside, and moved back to the side of the bus. He kicked the slide doors open taking the steps two at a time.
He pointed his gun at the blonde holding a hand over Merlin’s mouth. “Let go of him and step away slowly. Or the zombies out there will be the least of your worries.” He threatened.
The man slowly let go of Merlin and stood, but refused to move back. “Let’s go Merlin.” Lancelot ordered, keeping the gun cocked.
Merlin sprawled to his feet and moved towards Lancelot, too shaken to even look at his attacker. He let him rest an arm around him and leaned on Lancelot as they moved back to the steps and the still open sliding doors. His hand reached for the railing.
“Wait, Merlin, you can’t go out there.” The blonde called out, his voice full of pent-up emotions. His eyes burned at the back of Merlin’s neck, beckoning for him to turn around.
Merlin stopped cold, “Arthur,” the realization of who the voice belonged to hitting him hard.
His hand shook and he gripped the railing tighter. He slowly turned around, tears running down his cheeks. “Arthur.” He rushed to his lover.
“Merlin, it’s really me.” Arthur whispered as he took Merlin’s shaking form into his arms and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “You have no idea how long I have been looking for you.” He confessed, his voice failing to maintain a calm demeanor. He wiped Merlin's tears away and held him tighter, resting his chin on the nape of Merlin's neck.
“ You've gotten skinnier.”
“And you too.”
“Hate to break up the reunion, but there are two zombies still out there.” Lancelot said, suddenly wishing he had listened to Merlin and sneaked away.
“There are more of them out there. Get down and don’t make a sound. You can thank me later.” Arthur told Lancelot, reaching for his own gun lying in a seat next to him and catching the look shot in his direction.
Just as they crouched down, one of the zombies paused at the slide doors. He wore a tie and a suit, hinting that he might have been a salesman when he had been alive. His skin was peeling from his face and strands of his shoulder length hair missing, bloody chunks of exposed scalp in their place. Another zombie joined him and their ears perked to the side at the sound of something further ahead. They moved away from the bus in the direction of the noise. Lancelot moved to get up.
Arthur set a hand on his arm forcing him back down. “I told you there are more of them.”
A small horde of zombies ran past them, some banging against the bus and smearing its side with more blood. There were females and males, even children in the pack. Some took their time, wandering from the group to several stores down the street; others followed the first two as if they could somehow communicate with each other, nothing else attracting their attention. Twenty minutes passed before the last one turned into a street ahead, disappearing with the rest.
Arthur clung to Merlin, pressing his body close to him and continued to aim his gun towards the entrance of the bus. He made them wait a few more minutes and then gave Lancelot the "ok" to move out. They rushed out of the bus one at a time, their legs cramming up from the crouching and their lungs clinging greedily to the fresh air. There had been bodies inside, burned and in heavy stages of rotting. Slowly Arthur moved down the street, unwilling to let go of Merlin’s hand and peeked around the building, making sure it was clear.
“Come on, Merlin, this way.”
“Arthur, wait we can leave. Lancelot has a motorcycle; we could drive out of the city before they can catch us and close the gate behind us.”
“Morgana is here Merlin and there are two more survivors.” Arthur shot back before moving closer to Merlin and kissing him slowly at first then passionately as his emotions for his lover tugged at his self-control. “We can leave once we get to them, I promise.”
Arthur’s words tugged at Merlin’s heart and memories, of the time he had said similar words to Arthur and failed to keep his promise. He clung to Arthur’s shirt and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath he let go and nodded.
“This way, our hideout is about a block away. If we stick to the back alleys we can get there before they turn back around.” Arthur assured Merlin, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Are you sure about this Merlin?” Lancelot asked, hesitating, clearly aware of the chance for them to escape was quickly closing.
“Yes.” Merlin replied, turning to face his friend and giving him a weak smile. That was all Lancelot needed and he followed them.
Arthur led them through a maze of empty alleyways and stopped in front of a metal door. He banged three times and looked around to make sure no zombie was around. A shift of feet, a pause, and then a click, greeted them. The door was unlocked. Arthur yanks the door open and nodded for Merlin and Lancelot to get inside. He shut the door and locked it, securing it once more and then only then letting his heart relax.
Merlin and Lancelot stumbled inside, their eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. The room was quite big; the few pieces of furniture making it appear larger. They moved further to the middle of the room and could make out three figures sitting in the couch facing them, one male and two female. The smaller of the females moved closer, holding a flashlight, a smile spread wide on her face.
“Lancelot,” She called out, moving the flashlight to the rouged man’s face.