The Rising: Selected Scenes from the End of the World

When Tenk had first taken possession of Worm, he’d searched through the body’s memories, cataloguing his experiences and finding any information that might be useful. There wasn’t much. Worm was a deaf-mute. Worse, he’d been sheltered and protected. His entire life consisted of playing checkers with his father, cooking with his mother, and taking long walks with his dog. No strife or hardships. He’d been home-schooled, so there were no taunts from other kids. He’d been happy, living a life of luxury until undead mice ate his parents. Then he’d struck out on the run. His dog died next, shot by a farmer who’d mistaken Worm and the mutt for zombies. Worm had taken shelter in an interstate rest stop. There, he met a man named Baker, and the two had traveled together until they were captured by a group of renegade National Guardsmen. Tenk probed deeper, seeing Worm pushed from the back of a speeding military vehicle and then killed by a group of zombies from an orphanage. And that was when Tenk had entered him, while his corpse lay bleeding in the middle of the road.

Since then, he’d been pushed down a hill (breaking one of his host’s legs), run over by a speeding Humvee (breaking the other leg, along with several ribs), shot in the arm (resulting in a shattered elbow), and then shot in the face (disintegrating the lower jaw). He was a joke. The rest of his brethren continued with the worldwide slaughter, but Tenk could only crawl along behind them, pulling himself with one good arm. He wanted this body to die—again. He wanted to be free. Wanted to find another host and join in the extinction of mankind.

Tenk thought about all of this as he lay face down in a roadside puddle of muddy water. He was playing dead, waiting for some unsuspecting human to come along and mistake him for a lifeless corpse. Then, as they neared him, he’d lurch to his feet and try to appear menacing. With any luck, they’d destroy Worm’s brain once and for all, and he would be free of this shell.

At sundown, he was still waiting.

He would have cursed, if he’d had the ability to speak.

Eventually, Worm’s one remaining ear twitched. The sound of a motor rumbled towards him. Slowly, ponderously, Tenk clawed at the asphalt with Worm’s good hand and dragged himself out into the road. Headlights appeared in the distance. He stumbled to his feet, wobbling on broken legs. The bones protruded from the flesh. Insects spilled from his wounds, landing in piles at his feet. The vehicle slowed as it drew closer. It was hard for Tenk to see with Worm’s eyes; they were infested with maggots. The vehicle drew closer—a truck. A human leaned out of the passenger-side window, and then ducked back inside. Tenk shuffled forward, thrusting his good arm out and trying to look menacing. The passenger slid something long and metallic through the open window. A rifle barrel, maybe? It was hard to tell. The truck picked up speed and swerved towards him.

Yes, Tenk thought. This is it. Destroy me. Destroy this brain so that I might be free. The truck barreled down on him. The headlights grew blinding. His vision blurred. Then the truck raced past him, continuing down the highway. Tenk caught a glimpse of the passenger pulling the object back inside. It was a sword.

Something was wrong. Everything was tilted, as if the world had been turned on its side. Tenk tried to move Worm’s arm and found that he couldn’t. Then he noticed why. Worm’s body lay five feet away. It was headless.

But if his head is missing, then why am I... The breeze ruffled his hair. He felt it. Felt the wind on Worm’s scalp. But he couldn’t feel anything else. Oh no. Those stupid humans! Those ignorant apes—

they only cut my head off. The brain is still intact... Tenk looked out from Worm’s decapitated head and watched the moon rise.

He couldn’t even scream.

THE NIGHT THE

DEAD DIED

The Rising

Day Twenty-Six

Bronx, New York

All night long, Cookie and the blind man sat in the dark restaurant’s kitchen. They tied damp handkerchiefs over their faces to block the stench of decay permeating the city. They ate sardines, washed them down with the olive oil inside the empty tins, and listened to the dead die.

It began with a message broadcast over a public address system. They heard it several times.