as head-of-the-line privileges. He also reanimated quicker than the others, almost instantaneously. His second body belonged to a network systems analyst in Gardner, Illinois, and had served him well. The host had been in remarkable physical health and died of suffocation, leaving the body in good shape. Ob still regretted the loss of that one. It ended when a human set the entire town on fire. Ob became trapped in the inferno while crawling through a ventilation duct after some prey.
His third body was a homeless man in Coober Pedy, Australia. The man was already rotting before death claimed him. Ob only inhabited that shell for a day before a human snuck up from behind and drove a pickaxe through his brain.
His fourth had been the body of Dr. Timothy Powell, one of the men directly responsible for freeing his kind in the first place. That body had been dispatched during the recent battle. Now, here he stood, in the body of Powell's superior, Professor Baker. The almost contrived irony was not lost on the demon lord, and Ob wondered if some higher force had a hand in the fact that he'd taken possession of two of the men responsible for his release.
He searched through Baker's memories as if riffling through a filing cabinet. He saw the scientist's escape and flight, his capture by Schow's forces, and the interrogation that followed. He learned of Baker's other companions: Jim, the father searching for his son, and Martin, the elderly holy man.
These two, the father and the preacher, were not with them. They weren't among the zombies ordered to scavenge weapons and round up stray humans from the surrounding countryside. He hadn't seen them in the complex either. The possibility that two of his enemy's companions might have escaped gnawed at him. He didn't like loose ends, especially if it meant that they could warn others of his army's might.
He scanned the horizon. Could they still be out there, hiding in the night amongst the hills and trees? How delicious it would be-how poetic to destroy them while wearing the form of their friend.
Still, no matter. If they had survived, they were gone by now, hunted down and dead. Or dying. Humanity's time was over, its number finite.
The Siqqusim's numbers were not. And when this world held no more bodies for them-there were other worlds, a multitude of other living beings for them to violate. They would never go back to the Void, and eventually, they would have their revenge on He who had sent them there. Ob would lead the Siqqusim's corruption of the flesh. When the last bit of flesh had been conquered, his brother Ab would then be free to rally his own forces, the Elilum. They would proceed with the destruction of the planet's plant and insect life, possessing them in the same way that the Siqqusim did with flesh. Finally, when all life had been extinguished, they would depart for other planets, while their brother Api burned the planet to ashes with his fellow Teraphim.
But defiling the Creator's beloved creations was just the first step. Storming the gates of His kingdom would be the next. Ob would personally rip Him from the throne.
Smiling at the prospect, Ob went to inspect his army and make plans.
There was much to do. He must amass an army and prepare for the arrival of his brothers, Ab and Api. Once their way had been cleared, they would destroy every living organism on the planet, destroy the planet itself- destroy everything the Creator held dear. Only then would they be victorious, satisfied. And that would be just the beginning ...
Ron coughed.
Kevin whispered back. 'You're
'Holy shit, they stink!' Ron coughed.
'Shut up, you idiot!' Kevin whispered back. 'You're going to give us away.'
'I can't help it. The smell...'
'He's right,' Mikey said, squirming. 'It's fucking hot. We've been in here for hours. My legs are cramping up.'
'Both of you shut up now!'
'Fuck off. When we get out of here, you're dead, Kev.'
Kevin ground his teeth in frustration. Never in a million years had he imagined that he'd spend the apocalypse hiding in the bed of a Chevy pickup truck with the infamous Lancaster brothers, Ron and Mikey. The three of them were concealed in the back, the bed covered by a black vinyl, snap-on tarp that hid them from the zombies, but restricted their movements and allowed the sun to bake them. The steel beneath their backs grew steadily hotter as the hours passed. Even now, with the sun vanished beneath the horizon, the space was scorching, the day's heat trapped inside. They heard the creatures clambering around outside the truck, and in the moments when the zombies were silent, the stench gave them away.
Before the Rising began, Ron, Mikey, and Kevin ran numbers for a crime family in York, Pennsylvania. When the shit hit the fan, York fell not only to the zombies but to rival gang factions as well. The bangers out of Baltimore and Philadelphia, skinheads out of Red Lion, survivalists from the southern part of the county and northern Maryland-all of them had decided to carve it up for themselves. So Ron, Mikey, and Kevin split.
They made it as far as Gettysburg, and after showing some proficiency with weapons and an extreme lack of conscience, they were allowed to join Colonel Schow's paramilitary forces, assigned to the crucifixion squads. It wasn't bad work; got them out in the fresh air and gave them an opportunity to live amongst a larger group. Safety in numbers. A strong sense of self-preservation allowed them to justify the most heinous things, including nailing fellow humans to crosses and watching from safety as the dead tore them apart.
When the decision to bug out and move to the government facility came down, the three of them piled into the pickup truck. As the convoy made its way north, they passed the time drinking warm beers and taking pot shots at zombies. Mikey had emptied his clip and both spares before they got as far as Harrisburg. Ron's was empty soon after.
By the time the convoy arrived at its destination, they were down to Kevin's 30.06 and a gas gauge firmly on E. When the combat exploded around them, they jumped out of the cab, climbed inside the bed, and shut the tailgate behind them. They'd lain there ever since.
'Christ, I could go for a burger right now,' Ron breathed.
'Yo, fuck the burger,' Mikey said, 'I want a cold beer.'
'Shut the fuck up,' Kevin hissed.
Mikey and Ron quieted down again, and Kevin tried
