Life Among The Dead by Cotton Daniel

Author:Cotton, Daniel [Cotton, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

3

Consciousness pushes away the darkness in Dan’s mind. The world is a haze as the soldier sits up with a splitting headache. His hand feels the back of his skull, inspecting a bump that is sore to the touch.

He is in a cage suspended in a dark room. The cell is made of thick wooden dowel fastened by hemp with a ply wood floor. The room beyond is a large sparse void. Torches burn on the walls revealing very little detail to him. It looks as if the world stores all of its unused shadows here because that’s all he can see.

His pockets are empty. Whoever has imprisoned him relieved him of his gear. He grips the bars and tests how sturdily the prison is built. To his chagrin it’s pretty damn solid.

“What the fuck is this?” He asks.

“My temple.” A voice responds. It echoes around the vacant hall. Dan turns towards its origin inside the cage.

“Your what?” He asks a short man with a potbelly, wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt.

“My temple. It’s an old supply depot.” The man reiterates. “My name is Greg. Greg Smith.”

The man is offering his meaty hand for Dan to shake, the soldier just ignores it.

“Why did you bring me here?” Dan doesn’t bother to leave the fuming anger from his voice.

“I didn’t”

“You just fucking said this is your temple.”

“He lost control of his flock.” Another male voice within the cage interjects. The voice remains hidden in the gloomy shadows that drape the back of the cell. Unlike Greg this man doesn’t enter the light to make his presence known.

“I met the flock.” Dan growls at the unseen person. “Who are you?”

Dan can feel the cage sway as the new voice stands to make the short journey into better lighting. He is a tall older man, dressed in a similar uniform as the zombie cop Dan had shot in town.

“Sheriff Rexton.” He says with authority. Dan wonders if that’s supposed to be impressive, considering he is locked up too.

“Are they trying to save you as well?” Dan asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” The man says, relaxing a bit. “Apparently, I am a nonbeliever.”

“Not a very tolerant town. What happens now?”

“Ask this douche bag.” The cop hitches a thumb in Greg’s direction. He returns to the shadows to rest his old bones. The cage sways as he sits, letting out a groan.

Dan stares at the man in the bright red and yellow shirt. Greg lowers his head and slinks away like a dog that is about to be scolded. The Sheriff can tell that the rotund man isn’t going to share, so he starts the story with a sigh.

“Several months ago, I noticed odd behavior from my neighbors. They were keeping strange hours. Many gathered here in this ‘temple’ at the same time every day. They began to only associate with one another. They wouldn’t so much as give anyone else the time of day.

“It started small, but it spread. A handful became dozens. It didn’t take long until all the people of Gaines were involved.

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