Through The Valley by Yates, B.D. (the best motivational books TXT) 📗

were beginning to ache now, and he could feel the cold penetrating all his layers of clothing and inching into his bones. He ignored it. It was too dangerous to stand until he could be sure it was the Reverend who came out to take watch.

It didn't take long; Emmit assumed the quiet Reverend probably wanted to get away from the old married couple's bickering inside. Even without prescription lenses, Emmit could see that the Rev was completely and utterly broken down. He slunk out the door and closed it quietly behind him, rubbing at his head with one hand and carrying a spear in the other. Emmit saw his body turn one way, then the other, scanning for any intruders. Then he jabbed the spear into the frozen ground and leaned on it, his body looking weak and boneless. He stayed in that prostrated pose, quiet and motionless, until something small and white slammed into the cabin wall behind him and exploded. He snatched the spear out of the hardened snow in a lightning quick motion, twirling it to position his hands for combat and then holding it defensively in front of him. He doesn't look so weak and powerless anymore, Emmit thought, watching as the Rev began to creep forward on slightly bent knees, his head cocked and the spear steadfast. He's still got some fire in him.

Emmit grabbed another handful of snow, packed it into a tight ball, and lobbed it in the general direction of the Rev as if it were a hand grenade.  Trying to hit him with it was hopeless, but he didn't need to. All he needed to do was get his attention and draw him towards his hiding place, away from the cabin.

  The Rev made a snorting sound and sidestepped the snowball, keeping his alert eyes trained on the darkness. Methodically, he stalked close enough to see a humanoid, star-like shadow in the snow. He angled the spear towards Emmit's upturned face and inched forward as if approaching a venomous snake.

  Emmit knew that it would be wise to alert him before he was close enough to thrust the spear through one of his eye sockets. He lifted both of his stained hands and held them up like a man being arrested, craning his neck to stare up into the bewildered face of the Reverend.

"It's me, Tim," he said simply, and the Rev immediately threw himself to the ground beside him. They shimmied over to a darker patch of the cabin's "yard" and squatted beside each other.

"Emmit?!" He nearly yelled, poking a finger into Emmit's chest as if to make sure he was real. His face looked like a cartoon ghost, but genuine surprise and happiness lurked somewhere just under the surface. "We thought Roy killed you, man."

Emmit placed a finger across his lips, then twirled that same finger in a large circle between them.

"Whisper," Emmit said, and the Rev nodded nervously. "That horde Roy mentioned. The Megahorde? It's not nearby. It's here."

The Rev swallowed hard enough for Emmit to hear the gulp.

"You saw them?" He asked, his hands gripping and releasing the shaft of his spear. Emmit nodded gravely.

"There was another supernova on my way here. It’s the only reason I made it here. When it lit up the woods, I saw hundreds of them, Tim. Well... I think I saw hundreds..."

Emmit resisted the urge to push his nonexistent glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.

"Are my glasses inside, by any chance...?"

The Rev frowned, then shook his head slowly.

"It was your old pal Poke again, Emmit. He crushed them. Then he burned them. I guess he figured you wouldn't be needing them anymore."

Emmit swore under his breath, driving one hard fist into the snow between his knees. It hit like a small meteorite.

"Fucker," he hissed. "I'm gonna need a pair of eyes, then."

He reached out with one chilled hand and clasped it around the Rev's, and they held the spear together.

"What do you say we get the hell out of here, Rev?"

Chapter 11: Nightmare Vision

They moved slowly back the way Emmit had come, using his meandering path as a guide. It hadn't taken much convincing to get the Rev to leave with him; not after he had seen two members of the camp "slain" in the same night.  Tim knew his time left was limited. Poke never seemed to lose the draw for Provider, and he believed Emmit's story about seeing Roy choosing a safe stick for Poke, setting it aside with his pinky finger.  What had really got him moving, however, was the knowledge that Pup was also still alive.

  Now the Rev followed closely behind Emmit, his spear held upright in one hand and Emmit's shoulder secured in the other. He was steering him a little more than he needed to, but Emmit didn't complain. He was grateful to not be alone and to have someone defending him when he was at his most vulnerable.

  "Hold up," the Rev grumbled, squeezing Emmit's shoulder and moving to stand in front of him. "Link."

  Emmit looked in the direction the Rev was moving, and after some hard concentration he finally saw it. It stopped in its tracks, waving its arms like they were antennae in search of a radio signal. Then it turned and began stumbling towards them. This one was young and fresh.

  The Link looked like it had just dropped out of thin air hours before, much the same as Emmit had, except it hadn't had such nice luck upon waking up. Its eyes were already dried out, faded to the color of dusty pearls and wrinkled in the corners from the vastness of its grin. Its clothes were still clean and new, save for the socks it wore, which were soaked with water and beginning to crystallize around its ankles. The corpse was dressed for a summer pool party, clad in neon red swim