Nearafter (D.E.A.T.H. bk. 1)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Gustav

They tried to run, but Jenny was just too fast.

She caught him before he could reach the door, wrapping her hand around his ankle and yanking him back. He fell forward, with his head smacking hard against a desk corner on the way down. He screamed as blood erupted from a fresh gash in his forehead. He fought, kicking and flopping about, digging his fingers into the floor as Jenny dragged him back. She wrapped him up and tore his throat out. His body hit the ground, still and silent.

Gustav stood in the doorway looking in on Jenny. She stood alone now in the middle of the classroom, hunched over, gore dripping from her mouth and hands, with her hair draped over her face like a bloodstained curtain. Torn bodies decorated every surface of the room like ravaged pinatas. He loved watching her work. She'd done all of this, the work of a dozen undead, by herself. She was truly amazing. Gustav couldn't help but smile, just a little. If he could make more of them like her, dedicated, driven, brutal, how much further could he go? Beyond Medessi, surely. He'd hit the road, maybe even visit Alliston City. There would be plenty to do there, much recruiting could be done. And then he'd storm across the US, taking every city by force. But first things first.

The gym.

He'd decided the gym would be the perfect place for the second sigil. He'd do it bigger this time, more massive, more powerful. He'd triple his numbers with these new additions. He had the stupid school crisis policy to thank for that. It was so antiquated and useless, it was perfect. It made his job that much easier, as they'd all just been waiting quietly in the classrooms for him, behind the illusion of safety. Locked doors, any doors for that matter, stood little chance against Jeremiah. He walked down the length of the hall and with a every lazy flick of his finger a locked door collapsed on itself. Chaos ensued and countless kids awaited their death or ran about like roaches begging to be stepped on.

But Gustav would bring them back. He always did. No one stayed dead for long in Medessi.

Jeremiah led the way through the halls. Gustav wondered how he knew exactly where to go, but he didn't bother demanding an explanation. He was too focused. He had a job to do.

As the undead cleared each room one by one, Gustav and Jeremiah entered the gym, where there were a few kids holding out with a pair of fire extinguishers as weapons. Jenny and a handful of others made quick work of them.

Wasting no time, Gustav went to work. He pulled a knife from his pocket and cut open his own arm. Jeremiah watched him carefully, making sure he didn't cut too deep.

"That's enough," Jeremiah said. But Gustav kept going, drawing the tip of the blade across his skin, watching his flesh split apart and the blood run free. Jeremiah had taught him this method after his father died, and he'd used this method to bring both his father and Jenny back, as well as dozens of others, all at once. Of course, it was only Jenny whom he'd let drink directly from his arm and he wanted to make more like her, but he just didn't have enough blood to go around. He'd have to wait a few days and recover, especially after this.

Jeremiah grabbed Gustav's hand suddenly, preventing him from cutting into his own arm any further. They stared at each other for a moment.

"I said that's enough," Jeremiah again told him.

"What do you care?" Gustav hissed.

"I don't," said Jeremiah. "My livelihood is dependent on your success here. I'll not be denied what is rightfully mine because you can't control yourself."

Gustav stared down at the gaping rift in his arm. Blood coated his entire arm up to his elbow like a giant red glove. His hand trembled as blood trickled from the tips of his fingers and already began forming puddles on the floor. It was so odd. He didn't feel anything. Not yet. Adrenaline and fear, rage and frustration, confusion, immense sadness, and that unkillable urge, all these things amalgamated to a knot in his chest, a knot that made him numb. No one was human to him. In his eyes, they were all dead already. Gustav was simply the conduit through which they would all soon come to realize this truth.