Forty-two
Caitlin and the hunter picked up a small
pack of wild dogs that hounded them in the early hours of the next day.
The caterpillar, Caitlin noticed, reacted not at all to their presence.
The young hunter grew fatigued and her hunger began to annoy her, a
certain indication that the caterpillar was ready to feed as well. When
the hunter veered suddenly into a valley that turned south, she kept an
eye in that direction for signs of civilization. Either he would reach
Maston by nightfall, or the caterpillar would go in pursuit of the boy.
Less than an hour passed before the
stirring of the caterpillar warned that they had company. Caitlin looked
around and saw men with guns converging from all sides. The hunter threw
down his harness and staggered back through the snow to within shouting
distance.
"You stupid bitch! How in hell do you
suppose we nail your overgrown asses? You're all screwed up in the head,
that’s how!"
Caitlin had nowhere to run. She had
little incentive to try. She had given up on so much of life, living for
no other reason than to avoid the terrible pangs of hunger and to satisfy
a curiosity that had grown both intense and bold because of the unbearable
monotony of her existence.
Having fallen into the hands of
murderers and cannibals didn't particularly bother her. She'd at least
meet the mysterious Matron. Why else would so many men be rushing in to
take her captive? It would have taken only one of them and a single rifle
to kill her. Besides, these were not the sophisticated city people of the
caravans who would torture her to death for the sake of a sick video
tape. These were just hill people with families to feed.
They gestured with the rifles for her to
walk toward the offensive odors wafting over a nearby hill. She paused at
its crest to look over the small town situated at the junction of two
state highways.
Maston looked to have been a town of two
thousand or so. From what she could see, they were weathering the winter
well enough. Horses towed import cars stripped of engines and excess
weight. Wood smoke rose from most of the buildings in the center of town
as well as much of the outlying residential area.
These had to be people who knew their
enemy well, people with the stomach and the audacity to prey upon the
enemy, in fact. The dismembered carcass on the sled had been a zombie.
She had decided that to be the case by its sheer size. If the other small
communities in the hills learned to handle themselves as well, a lot of
caterpillars and their hosts would be going hungry during the course of
the winter, or getting themselves picked off approaching population
centers like Maston.
Curiosity drove her on. She winded her
escort trying to keep pace with her. When she moved ahead of him, he
fired a warning shot into the air, and she paused to let him take the
lead.
They took her to a dance hall near the
center of town and herded her into a smoke-filled lobby crowded with armed
guards and spectators, all of whom seemed to know the proper distance
needed to avoid being attacked by Caitlin's trilling caterpillar. When
they led her onto the darkened dance floor itself, nobody bothered to
follow her in.
The vast room had never been so dimly or
shabbily lit. Wood fires burned in barbecue pits placed about the
perimeter of the hardwood floor. The low ceiling had been stained black
by soot and did nothing to help dispel the gloom. At the far end of the
floor squatted a makeshift throne consisting of a plywood dais, Christmas
decoration, and a richly upholstered captain's chair taken from a van or a
motor home.
A woman sat in the chair. Her height,
sleek physique, and radiant health warned Caitlin that she was in the
presence of another like herself, although she seemed much older. An
orange and brown caterpillar rivaling Caitlin's in size rested upon her
shoulders. Its head drew circles in the air as it tasted the telltale
chemical breeze brought in by the newcomer.
"You followed blindly into our trap,"
the Matron said in a rich contralto voice. "I am so disappointed by your
apparent lack of intelligence. A stupid girl will make poor company, and
I am truly starved for intelligent conversation."
Caitlin feared she had
been wandering the
woods alone for too long to interact with another human being socially, but she felt herself come alive in the presence
of the woman's belligerence wit. Her caterpillar gripped the collar of
her flannel shirt tightly, alert for trouble in these close quarters.
"You have no excuses to make for your
stupidity?" the Matron said.
Caitlin approached as closely as she
dared.
"Have you no voice, child? What's your
name?"
"I'm Connie Kingsley," Caitlin said,
surprised by the strength of her own voice echoing back to her from the
surrounding walls. She wanted to test the woman’s reaction to the
Kingsley name, but not reveal her own if it proved too severely negative.
"I'm from Brighton Hollow."
The Matron stared at her. "Kingsley.
Child, you are advised not to speak that name in the presence of anyone
but myself in this town.’
“Oh, okay,” she said meekly, mildly
confused, but with no way to ask questions of this mad woman so soon.
"My name is Iris Isbek," the Matron said
in a flat tone of voice. "And you’re from Brighton Hollow?”
“Yes."
"There was another
Kingsley in Brighton Hollow. Did you happen to know Sheriff Biggs
and his family?"
Caitlin gave a
tentative nod, hoping she hadn't revealed too much.
“You knew of a Katrina Kingsley and her
child,” Iris said stiffly, her face pale and suddenly shiny with sweat.
Caitlin sensed it best to
keep a safe distance from Iris' upset. "I heard about her. She died when I was a baby.
I think Sheriff Biggs lived with her sister, Vivian. He's dead now.
They all are."
“And the child?”
Caitlin shrugged. “I
wouldn't know."
Isbek sighed heavily, profoundly
relieved about something Caitlin knew she'd have to let slide for now. "Young lady,
the Kingsleys are an abomination in these parts. If I were you, I would
keep a very low profile during your stay with us. So, tell me, Connie
Kingsley, did you kill my other hunter, or did the coward run away?"
"My caterpillar got him," she said.
"Why did you spare Sidney?"
"I was curious about you. I followed
him."
Iris Isbek showed even white teeth.
"What a darling thing to say. Strangers call me the Matron. Seeing as I
have no friends, everybody else calls me the bitch. If you hear anyone in
Maston call either one of us a foul name, your caterpillar may feed upon
them. But don't take without asking. It will be my one and only rule for
as long as I have you about. Ask before taking."
"You'll let me visit?" Caitlin said,
unable to disguise her eagerness.
The Matron seemed surprised. "Why, of
course you can visit. You are a welcomed visitor, in fact."
"I've never seen anyone with a bug get
along with ordinary people," Caitlin said. "Most just wander the hills.”
"Like yourself?" she said with mild
sarcasm.
"I’m not a zombie. I knew what I was
doing coming here, didn’t I?”
"You walked into my trap."
"I didn’t care about that.”
"Maybe you were just following my hunter
to feed your caterpillar.”
Caitlin felt like she was playing a game
of chess and she had just cornered the Matron's king. "But I was
warned about you. Some people in Osco stopped me and asked me to take
some census papers to Culverton."
The woman leaned back in her throne and
put a finger to her mouth. "Did you see what was on the sled, my dear?"
"A dead zombie." She wrinkled her
nose. "It's kind of disgusting, if you ask me. Are people here really
cannibals?"
"Some," she said. "Most are not. A few
consider zombies fair game, considering. Tit for tat. That sort of
thing."
"They can't be very nice people,"
Caitlin said.
"They'll starve to death otherwise."
"That wouldn't be so bad. I'd let
myself starve to death rather than help my caterpillar kill people.
Except that it's a very special and terrible hunger."
The Matron chuckled. "Yes, it is at
that."
"Wouldn't you?"
The woman blinked in confusion.
"Wouldn't I what?"
"Let yourself starve to death in the
ordinary way rather than help your caterpillar kill innocent people?"
The woman considered the question, and
changed the subject. "We've certainly had it rough. Circumstances have
improved for me. How are things with you, child?"
"I get bored," Caitlin said. "I'd like
to know how you get along so well with ordinary people."
"It's not usually done. I don't think
anyone in this area has applied any ingenuity to the problem. Would you
like to see how it works?"
Caitlin nodded eagerly, almost feeling
like her old self again.
The Matron put two fingers to her mouth
and let out a shrill whistle. Two armed men came rushing onto the dance
floor from the lobby. Either one of the men could have drawn their
sidearms and killed both hosts and their caterpillars within mere
seconds. It seemed strange that they didn't.
"Ma'am?"
"John, my boy! We need a second throne
for our princess here."
John grinned. His partner looked
horrified. "I think we can throw something together."
The Matron snapped her fingers. "Be
quick about it, then."
Caitlin looked to her for an
explanation.
"My son," she said. "My one and only
begotten."
"Oh, I see."
"And my son's lover."
Caitlin turned red with embarrassment.
"I had two sons up until those awful
things fell from the sky. My other son is a very moral and
conservative-minded man. And quite inflexible. I've disowned him."
The Matron watched her carefully for her
reaction.
"I don't know much about those sorts of
things," Caitlin said, hoping to sound young and naive. "I'm only
eighteen, and my father wouldn't let me go to school."
"I like that answer, Caitlin. I like
your forthright honesty. You're an uneducated girl, but probably not as
stupid as people make you out to be."
Caitlin blushed and lowered her gaze.
"Do you think we deserved to be murdered
by our own families, Connie?"
Caitlin shrugged, reluctant to answer
truthfully. Then she nodded, knowing she had already given herself away.
"I never blamed anyone for hating me."
"They only hate you because so many
acquired a bug who didn't deserve one. Rapists and pedophiles and worse.
Sickness crawls from the deepest corners of the human mind when freed of
social constraint."
Caitlin must have looked confused. The
Matron laughed. "Like Sheriff Biggs. I've heard stories
about that man. He thought just because he was the law that he stood above it. He
abused this authority and felt justified in doing so. Isn't that true?"
"Yes," Caitlin said boldly. "That's
exactly true."
"How worse would it have been if he had
gotten a caterpillar instead of you?"
The chill of horror that ran through
Caitlin was fathomless. "It would have been awful."
The Matron cocked her head
suspiciously. "You probably think that I'm something of a megalomaniac
myself."
Caitlin shrugged, fearing an outright
denial would be too transparent. "Maybe just a little."
"Well, a little ego never did anyone any
harm. If you had stayed in school, you would have heard of me. I used to
be writer. I no longer have much of an audience." She chuckled. "My
caterpillar ate them."
And then she laughed uproariously.
"What did you write about?" Caitlin
asked politely.
"I wrote about the Appalachians. I
tried to bring dignity and sophistication to Maston and its surrounding
communities."
Caitlin thought it sounded arrogant and boring.
"Can you imagine my surprise when the
world had the veneer of civilization stripped from its soul in a single
night? And my delight, when you consider that I was dying of liver cancer
when that little piece of shit inside the shell bit me?"
"You don't look sick now," Caitlin said.
"I've never felt better. The cancer
went away. I showed Maston how to survive without electricity and
gasoline. I helped to identify and destroy the other zombies and their
bugs before they so thoughtlessly began to feed on friends and family. I
became the Matron, and my upstanding son defied me and tried to kill me."
The Matron reached up and petted her
caterpillar. "I turned the tables on this little bastard. I have used it
to defend my friends and destroy our enemies."
Caitlin stared at the woman, thinking
she was probably crazy after all. The two hunters had talked about a town
on the edge of starvation. They had killed off the game around town and
had been driven to feeding on zombies, which was still human flesh. The
Matron was painting a deceptively pretty picture of life in Maston.
"You think life has become hopeless,"
the woman said.
"I think we're all going to die."
"Only the weak will perish."
"Yes, but the strong will still have
hungry caterpillars to feed," Caitlin said.
The Matron dismissed the comment with a
gesture of disdain. "The weak are legion. Many will die, but so will the
caterpillars be whittled down in number. The situation will stabilize,
mark my word.”
Caitlin wasn't so sure. She hadn't seen
enough to judge one way or another.
"Turn the table on the bugs," the Matron
said. "Use it to defend your friends. They will be grateful. In the
end, your friends will be a power to be reckoned with among the ordinary.
Your caterpillar will become a god among men, and you will be its
priestess."
Caitlin thought the scheme made sense in
a crazy sort of way. She didn't think it would work.
"By the way," the woman said, her eyes
narrowing in sudden anger. "Did Sidney or Walter call me any bad names?"
Caitlin couldn't resist the temptation
to tattle, just to see how Iris would react. "The older man, the one my
caterpillar killed, he called you a bitch."
"I see. Well, he can't be punished if
he's dead, now can he? But I'm very strict when it comes to showing
proper respect to me. If the town doesn't fear me, it may not always be
willing to sacrifice for its own greater welfare."
"I see," Caitlin said, hoping she
sounded sincere.
"Perhaps I can afford to be lenient with
the boy, considering circumstances. The man you killed was his father."
That amazed Caitlin. "I think he cared
more for the sled."
"Well, we have to consider that the sled
was worth its weight in gold."
Caitlin thought it best to keep her
mouth shut rather than agree to something so bizarre.
"Do you know your Bible, Caitlin? Have
you read Revelations?"
"My father didn't believe any of that
stuff," Caitlin said. "I've never been to church much."
"I remember hearing about Armageddon
when I was a child. I remember something about seals being broken and
books being opened, the stars falling from the sky and the sea turning to
blood. It's ironic about the scorpions, don't you think? Caterpillars
sound so innocent. The devil was supposed to be loosened upon the earth
for one thousand years. Tell me, Caitlin, do you believe we are agents of
God, or of the devil?"
"I wouldn't know one way or the other."
"We'll discuss it at greater length some
other time. I think I hear your throne being assembled outside. Tell me,
Connie, are you hungry?"
Caitlin was very hungry, and her
caterpillar was so restless on her shoulders that its claws had drawn
blood on the back of her neck. She nodded reluctantly.
"Then it is time to show you how we
operate around here," Iris said, "how Maston remains the peaceful little
abode it has become amidst so much corruption and evil. I will show you
why I believe our little furry friends are avenging angels in disguise,
feeding upon the filth and wickedness of human sin. Does the notion that
evil can nourish righteousness sound a bit strange to your ears, child?"
Caitlin thought it did. Quite strange.
Given the opportunity, she would have excused herself and left the room.
Her curiosity had been appeased. She didn't really want to see or hear
any more of the Matron's mad world. She had accepted a terrible risk to
satisfy her curiosity. If she didn't find a way out soon, the risk to
what was left of her sanity was just as great.
