Pack Animals [An Undead Post-Apocalypse Thriller]

by Cain, Kenneth W.

  The two brothers cackled manically as Clyde prepared the weapon. Allen had grown somewhat numb to their insanity, but he was also interested to see how this played out.

  CHAPTER 12

  A thunder of fists hammered against the front windows and door of the drugstore. The two estranged groups stood as one in the back by the pharmacy counter. Sydney considered taking the time to get what they needed. Maybe she could find a back door, a way out of this foolishness, and get her group back home. She cursed herself for even thinking to try to help Chris.

  Her hand found Gavin’s chest and pushed him toward the back of the group. At first, he fought her, puffing out his chest against the palm of her hand. A steady glance was all it took to reinforce her will. With reluctance, Gavin moved to the back where he leaned against the pharmacy counter.

  “Great,” the woman with the gun said. “What do we do now?”

  Sydney let her eyes explore the woman, the gun. The gun wasn’t even real. From a distance, the BB gun looked authentic enough. A frown found her face. She had almost killed a woman armed with a toy.

  The big guy moved beside Sydney and brushed his bicep against her shoulder. “Name’s Isaac.”

  She couldn’t help but grin. “Sydney.”

  “So, whatcha thinking, Sydney?”

  “Honest?”

  “Don’t I look like a straight-shooter to you?”

  The woman with the BB gun found Isaac. “Why are you even talking to her?”

  “Chill, Allison.” He sighed out loud. “And put that shit away.”

  The woman reluctantly lowered the toy gun and laid it on a nearby shelf.

  “I think we’re golden here,” Isaac said.

  Sydney doubted this. She suspected most of them would survive, but not all.

  Isaac motioned to her guns. “I don’t suppose—”

  Sydney wasn’t so sure. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  Isaac shrugged. “Can any of us ever truly trust one another again?”

  Sydney drew one of the sawed-off shotguns, looked down its barrel as if saying goodbye, and handed it to Isaac.

  Isaac eyed up Gavin. “Any chance—”

  He didn’t have to finish. “Gavin?” Sydney turned to the pimply-faced young man. “Give what’s his name over there your gun.”

  Gavin’s jaw dropped. “What? Are you freaking—”

  “Gavin, do as she says.” Craig nudged the boy in the ribcage with his elbow. One would have thought them related judging by how quick Gavin responded to Craig’s influence. “Now, boy.”

  “Todd. My name’s Todd.”

  Craig nodded toward the pack pawing and clawing at the storefront. “There’ll be time for making acquaintances once we’ve dealt with this mess, folks.”

  “What now?” Todd asked. “Standoff with what little we have?”

  Sydney took her other gun and handed it to the older woman, nodding to the BB gun. “This will be an upgrade to that. You know how to use it?”

  Blushing, the woman nodded.

  Sydney drew her sword and stepped in front of the others. She always thought of herself as a born leader, more so than any of them could know. “We do whatever needs to be done.”

  The younger woman’s eyes were wide with doubt. “That’s it? That’s your plan?”

  Isaac nodded. “Nothing else to do. Besides, did you hear Sydney or not? We’re gonna be all right.”

  Sydney put on a phony smile for their benefit. Isaac had a charm that spoke volumes of the type of man he had been before the war. She instantly liked him, although it reminded her of her husband in some ways. Before Sydney could picture her husband, or the older woman could get what she was saying out. Before Isaac could relay what he was seeing, his finger pointing at the window, something else happened. A bright flash filled the front of the store and a roar like thunder accompanied it.

  Wham!

  Only Sydney knew it wasn’t thunder.

  Her ears rang, traumatized by the explosion. Chunks of brick and glass, and pieces of flesh flew through the air. She had no way of deciphering what was what as it struck her. With her eyes still half-blinded by the light, she made out the silhouettes of at least three figures advancing through the debris.

  One fell to gunshot. A thin trail of smoke rose from the barrel of the gun she’d given Isaac. Without further hesitation, Sydney leaped forward, her sword at her hip, ready to strike. The sword lashed out high and took one down. She backhanded the other. Both headless bodies dropped in an instant.

  As her vision improved, she saw a large hole in the front of the store, surrounded by the dust of fallen brick and mortar. Vast devastation surrounded them, leaving everyone in shock except Isaac and herself. Sydney lurched forward; careful in case any more creatures attacked. She kept her sword back, ready to strike should an opponent make itself visible.

  Stepping through the large hole, she scanned the horizon. A bulky carriage sat in the distance. But what she saw first was the man sitting on a horse beside it.

  It’s him.

  Behind her, the others made their way out. A quick glance found Chris stumbling down the street toward them on rubbery legs, his face covered with blood, a hand pressed to his nose.

  Her eyes pierced the man on the horse. It had been too long since she had seen his face. So very long. Her heart twisted, beating like the drumline of a high school band, imploring her to go to him.

  She ignored the emotion.

  Craig put a hand on her shoulder. “Shall we thank them then?”

  Sydney restrained him, lowering her arm out in front of him. She only shook her head.

  “What is it?” Craig said.

  Isaac tugged on Craig’s jacket sleeve. “Lines man. It’s all about them lines.”

  Sydney gazed up at Isaac’s distraught face. The man had no idea how true those words were. More than she let on. It was all about lines. Lines drawn while procuring supplies. Lines drawn between the dead and the living. Lines drawn at the start of a war. Most of all, that was it; lines that had been drawn long before any of this started. Could those lines ever be erased?

  CHAPTER 13

  “They sure ain’t in any sort of hurry, are they?” Clyde said. “Thanks to us, that is.”

  “Sure don’t seem to be.” Dale scratched his head. “Don’t tell me we done gone and wasted that on saving a bunch of sorry asses.”

  Allen studied the group. They had the numbers, but he didn’t think anything would come of this. He couldn’t stop looking at her crimson red hair. The smell of it lingered in his memories.

  We were happy once.

  Weren’t they? It seemed so long ago. Far enough back he couldn’t remember the fine details. Part of him always longed to have her here beside him. That part also left her before she could say anything more to hurt him. A larger part of him wanted to see their boy, but he knew she wouldn’t let him. The idea she might come between him seeing his child fueled his anger, even if it was only speculation. But he also didn’t blame her.

  “So, what now?” Clyde said. “Do we all just sit here starin’ at each other like we wanna play hopscotch or something?”

  Dale was still scratching his head. “I say we go make them understand, it ain’t cool not to thank us.”

  “I think that’s a bad idea.” Allen said. He didn’t look, but he suspected Dale’s face had wrinkled with question to his response.

  “Why’s that, Allen? You think they might want some of our whiskey?” Clyde asked. He lifted the bottle and upon seeing it, decided to take a healthy tug.

  Dale nudged Clyde in the side after he took so long. He wanted a sip of his own. Now both brothers appeared to have forgotten about what Allen said. As if to echo this thought, a trail of Jim Beam ran down Clyde’s chin. The man’s tongue wagged out, trying to slurp up every last bit he could reach.

  Allen considered Clyde’s question. He supposed he wouldn’t be lying if he told them they might want just that, to drink their liquor. More importa
ntly, he didn’t think it would be a good idea to have this out with Sydney. Not here, not in front of these people. Catching a glimpse of each other would do for now. Perhaps later, there could be more. Though somehow, he doubted it.

  “Yes,” Allen finally said. “Yes, I think they would.”

  A shocked Clyde seemed unable to remember what he had asked, his expression empty and lost.

  After a minute, Dale remembered his question. He emphasized his agreement in keeping their distance. “Well fuck that!”

  Clyde slapped Dale on the back. “Hell yeah!”

  Dale spun, found the radio, turned it up as far as it would go, and pressed play. The early evening sky filled with the magical notes of Jimi Hendrix’s wild guitar licks. “Fuck yeah!”

  Allen scoffed at the brothers. Really, he should be thankful for their company. Besides, they had a large supply of weapons and weren’t afraid to use them. They followed directions well enough, with little hassle. They would have been great soldiers.

  He observed her again, seeing her thin tight-lipped mouth even from this far. She didn’t look so happy to see him.

  Did you expect her to after so long? After all we fought about? After the things I did?

  Still, his heart fluttered with the passion of old, remembering her, loving her.

  Finally, Sydney turned, and pushed her way through the group surrounding her. The others lingered, eyeing up Allen and the brothers from afar. Then they too went back into the drugstore, through the new hole in its side.

  Allen didn’t think they would stay there long. By the time he and the brothers reached the store, they would be long gone. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t follow. Now that he’d seen her, he had to.

  She’ll know and expect it.

  A gun echoed. The crash of glass sprinkled down upon them.

  “Shit Allen, did ya see that?” Dale asked.

  Allen shook his head.

  Smoke trailed from the barrel of Dale’s shotgun. God save them. “I done shot that bottle right out of the sky.”

  Nodding, Allen turned his attention back to this new development. Back to thoughts of her. Back to his wife. He missed her, and he worried she didn’t feel at least something for him.

  CHAPTER 14

  A spot by the river made a suitable campsite for the night for Allen and the brothers. The river was wide enough that it cut off half of all possible attacks, making it easier to defend. Allen hadn’t thought of everything, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated what the brothers would do once they settled in.

  Clyde and Dale spent a half hour finishing off a jug of cheap wine. Allen guessed half of their supplies were some form of alcohol. Most of the rest was anything that could be used to blow shit up. They liked these two vices above all else, getting drunk and firepower. Allen found it difficult being at ease when they were up to their usual antics, since most of what they did would likely draw unwanted attention. There was nothing so unsettling as inviting death to come visit your doorstep, welcoming him with a drunken smile, and daring him to take you right then and there. Yet the brothers did it in epic fashion, nearly all the time.

  Still, there was something charming about the way they got along, in a weird sort of way. These grown men were as close as a couple of pre-teen brothers might be. They played well together and seemed about the same level of intelligence, despite being adults. They were entertaining, if nothing else.

  If they hadn’t handled every undead soul they encountered thus far, Allen might have more room to complain. Why would this be any different?

  Because you can’t defend against what you take for granted.

  He shook his head trying to forget his former leadership role.

  Dale unzipped his fly as he approached the river. Clyde followed, and Dale steadied himself on his brother as he pissed into the river.

  “Wait. Get off me,” Clyde protested.

  Dale stumbled, the urine drifting in the wind and catching his brother’s pant leg.

  Clyde slid away, shaking his leg. “What the. Fuck!”

  Allen couldn’t stop laughing. It made him feel like he was back in grade school, but it felt good.

  Clyde smacked Dale upside the head. “What in the hell are ya thinking, dumb ass?”

  “Come on, Cylde. I’m just peein’ is all. You’d think I’d done shit on yer parade, or some crazy stuff like that.”

  Then something truly amazing happened. Both men stripped off their remaining clothes and stood at the bank of the river.

  Allen rushed forward, wanting to warn them. Panic seized him as they neared the edge, wondering if they didn’t know the water was tainted.

  Of course. How would they have heard? They must live in the middle of nowhe—

  They bent their knees, readying to dive and Allen felt his chest hitch. Something inside of him hesitated. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he had an idea the soldier in him needed to find out. Side by side and bare ass naked, the brothers dove into the river.

  There were plenty of moments when Allen found himself flustered. This reaction almost always brought with it a sense of grief. The easiest thing Allen discovered over time, since the war ended, was that he had to move on from the past. When the brothers dove into the water, he didn’t feel any sort of need to overreact. He remained calm and rational as they splashed about without care of what might be in the water or what horrors might approach them while they frolicked.

  They’re okay. Not too drunk. No need to worry about drowning.

  Dale’s head went under followed by Clyde’s. They came up together, shaking the water out of their hair, and spitting it from their mouths.

  “What the hell you looking at, Allen?”

  Clyde regarded Dale, dizzily trailing his eyes up to Allen.

  Allen couldn’t move, gawking at them with pure disbelief. He was sure of how it must have looked. But he had longed for a moment like this, when the memories of better days flooded in.

  “Yer eyein’ us up like we the last pork chops on the plate,” Dale said “You goin’ funny on us, allen?”

  The men snorted and although Allen didn’t want to, another side of him, the part that longed for the old days, wanted to be as carefree as these men. Hoping they would get out before it was too late, Allen revealed the truth. “You know that water is contaminated, don’t you?”

  They viewed him as if he were off his rocker. “You dumb or something? The water ain’t been bad for months.”

  Allen’s heart raced at their words. A strange feeling crept into his stomach. How could the water have cleared up? Allen wasn’t a technical guy, but what he did know was that infection couldn’t have gone away on its own. He was more intrigued by how they could know this.

  Still unable to fully reel in his emotions, Allen asked the obvious question. “How did you discover this?”

  “Ain’t you ever watched no TV?” Clyde said. “Mother Nature always cleans shit up about this time in the movies.”

  It was the sort of logic these men thrived on. It had gotten them this far, and truth told, Allen was a little jealous of their simplistic life. They had it better than they knew. He wanted to hesitate, watch and make sure they ended up fine. Another part of him, the part that wanted to have fun and stop being so serious, lost control.

  This latter part of him stripped down to his whitie-tighties, throwing his clothes back toward Gollum’s cage. He barely noticed his shirt draping off the edge of the cage before he dove in. The cool water welcomed him, a refreshing sensation he had often dreamed about these last several months. It was liberating.

  When they finished swimming, Allen even joined them for a drink. It was the first time alcohol had touched his lips in many years and that was also good. More and more he felt that rebellious part of him screaming for release. If only Allen could bottle up this joy and share it with Sydney, maybe then she would forgive him.

  Maybe then I can see Orson.

  When the fun was over, a growing sense of guilt flooded Allen.
These guys weren’t so bad. Neither was he at his core. There were many things he wanted to say to anyone that would listen in that moment. Surely the brothers would listen. But he didn’t mutter a single word about his past. Fear of what sides might remain and alliances haunted him.

  “Here’s your shirt, Allen.”

  He turned to find the shirt fluttering in his direction. A warm smile overcame Allen and he didn’t mind letting it show. Only Clyde wasn’t smiling now. A pained expression filled Clyde’s face, his lips pressed in a tight seal. Allen thought to ask if he was okay, but Clyde didn’t look like he was in the mood to discuss anything.

  Clyde glanced to Allen, a desperate look of guilt revealed in those wide eyes. Clyde hurried to put on his own shirt, as if trying to hide something. He seemed worried Allen might have glimpsed an old secret.

  Allen wondered if Dale knew the root of this. He was still off down by the river, appreciating the night with a healthy howl. Evidently, this was a secret between Allen and Clyde. Sooner or later Allen would need to satisfy his curiosity, though. He worried what Clyde might have seen, or what he was hiding, what bothered a guy like him.

  CHAPTER 15

  The young woman introduced as Melanie sat across from Sydney. Envy showed on her face, but Sydney wondered if the girl might be doing more than admiring her ability to handle a sword.

  The girl’s cheeks flushed.

  “So, what now?” Gavin asked.

  Sydney kept cleaning her sword, avoiding his question. She hadn’t really considered that yet. Working the cloth up and down the blade, she maintained her focus in order to ensure she wouldn’t cut herself. Melanie’s eyes followed her every movement.

  Why’s she staring?

  Sydney knew from her own experience that a young woman’s mind could be a complicated thing. But she also knew herself, this wasn’t the time or place for such affections.

  “I think we best get on the move soon,” Isaac said. “That was a loud explosion. It’s likely to attract at least one pack, get them checking things out.”