by Brown, TW
“Where are your mommy and Jacob?” Rose asked.
The little girl took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Mama is sick. The neighbor gave her an owie on her arm. She made me and Jacob tie her hands up. She said it was a game, but then she said we could not untie her no matter what. Then she fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up. She smelled really stinky. When her eyes opened, they looked icky…”
Rose remembered Frank’s eyes; she remembered the ugly way they looked like they’d been hit with terrible cataracts. And then there were the black squiggly traces. She gave Crystal a closer inspection when she heard something that made her blood freeze in her veins.
“…then she bit Jacob, He screamed and she wouldn’t let go. She bit off his pointer and his naughty finger—” Crystal was explaining.
“Wait, where is Jacob now?” Rose demanded.
“In his bed. He cried and cried and none of the Band-Aids would stay on. Then he fell asleep.” Crystal had an indignant tone to her voice that made Rose think perhaps she had already said that part.
“Take me to him,” Rose said as she climbed to her feet and took Crystal by the hand.
Together, they walked into the house. Almost immediately, Rose noticed the stench. It was a bit stronger than it had been in her house, but it was that same sickly sweet, rotten stink. The television in the living room was on, as was the one in the kitchen and in the family room. Judging by the echo coming from down the hallway, so was the one in Violet’s bedroom.
She had to take a deep breath through her mouth and pause before continuing. When she did, Crystal led her down the hallway. As they walked, they passed the bedroom belonging to her sister. If possible, the smell was worse. A low moan came from the room that gave Rose a fresh dose of the creeps. On instinct, Rose reached for the door. Jacob could wait; she had to see her sister.
“Mama is in there. I don’t want to go in there,” Crystal whispered. “She smells bad and is being mean.”
Rose took a deep breath and then faced her niece. “You stay right here. I am going to go in and see your mom. No matter what you hear, you stay put. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Auntie Rose,” Crystal said obediently.
Steeling herself for what she was about to see, Rose turned the knob and walked into the bedroom.
***
Ken waited for the couple to get out of the way and then entered the parking lot. As expected, most of the spaces were taken. Pushing aside any sense of guilt, he opened his glove box and removed his police identification placard and placed it on the dashboard as he steered into an area clearly marked as a “No Parking” zone.
Jumping out of the truck, he ran around to the passenger’s side and opened the door, catching the girl as she slumped over and into his arms. With minimal reaching around, he located the seatbelt clasp, pushed the release, and pulled her the rest of the way out of the truck. Closing the door with his foot, he turned and walked as fast as he could with the girl in his arms.
As he stepped on the pad that opened the door to the emergency room, he was hit with an overwhelming wave of sights, sounds, and smells. Just a few feet away, a man sat slumped over in a chair, his hastily bandaged arm dripping blood onto the linoleum floor in a growing puddle. Across from him sat a woman holding a little boy no older than three or four. He had a nasty bite on his right cheek and it had caused enough swelling to shut his eye.
Ken instinctively clutched the girl tighter to his chest. While he had no actual tie to the young lady, it was he that had brought her here. Until the doctors took her in, it was up to him to ensure that she did not suffer further injury.
He approached the window where he should be able to check the girl in. Once that was done, he could be on his way. He had a good idea as to where he was headed, but he needed to do this first; his conscience was already nagging at him about the shootings and then the subsequent leaving as the two young men were set on by the zombies.
He did not imagine there could be a worse way to die when it came down to it. Being eaten alive must be absolutely horrifying…not to mention painful. A scream brought his attention back to the waiting room. He realized that he’d been standing at the check-in window but there was nobody manning it.
Turning around, he saw the man with the bandaged arm now lying face down on the floor. Apparently he had slipped from his chair. Ken did not need to check him to know that the man was most likely dead. Another shriek came from somewhere back in the emergency area. This one sounded like a man, but it ended with an abruptness that was almost more unsettling than the actual scream itself.
“Yeah, we aren’t staying here,” Ken muttered as he headed for the door.
As he was turning to leave, the electronic doors opened and two people stumbled in. Ken had worked the streets enough to recognize gang tattoos. The thing that sort of did not fit with this picture was the fact that the thug was assisting an twenty-something Hispanic woman. With the racist tattoos showing prominently on his arms, this was the last guy on earth that Ken would imagine to be helping anybody; much less a woman of an ethnicity other than Caucasian.
The guy had his arm around the woman who had dried blood on the side of her face and a section of her hair matted down from an obvious blow to the head.
“Anybody!” the gang banger called as he stopped a few feet inside. Ken watched the man’s eyes scan the room. He was not surprised when they locked on him and narrowed considerably.
***
“Anybody!” Jason called.
Juanita had slumped to his side and was starting to struggle with staying conscious. He was beginning to think that the head injury might be worse than either of them believed.
He was only a few steps inside when a number of things pinged on his consciousness. The first was a smell. He’d gotten a really good whiff of it in the grocery store. It was here, perhaps not quite as strong, but he could smell it, and he was beginning to connect it to the possible presence of zombies. The second thing he spotted was a little boy with a nasty bite on his face. The eye on the side of the face that was bitten had swollen to the point where you could not really see it anymore. However, the other one was easy to see; even more so as Jason spotted dark squiggles already visible in the kid’s eye.
Then there was the cop.
Just about anybody who has done time can spot a cop in a crowd. Jason knew the moment that he saw the man with the body in his arms that the guy was absolutely a cop. He felt his old barriers slam into place and his instant distrust seep into every fiber of his being.
A moan to his right tore his stare away from the man across the room. Some guy on the floor was trying to get up. He had one arm bandaged, but the blood had seeped through and there was a nasty, dark puddle on the floor. The man had apparently fallen into it and smeared it all over the place. When his head came up and turned in Jason’s direction, he knew right away what this guy had become.
He eyed the check-in station and saw that it was empty. Also, now that he was on alert, he noticed a few other little details. The area on the other side of that check-in window had shadows moving around. There was a blood stain on a wall that was well back and just barely visible past the little wall that made the rear of the little cubicle where the receptionist or check-in nurse would normally be sitting.
“This is the wrong place to be,” Jason whispered. “All the books say things about how the hospitals are like zombie beehives. All the early victims are here and turning. Doctors won’t believe it and end up bit. We gotta go.”
Juanita moaned softly and mumbled something about being sleepy. Jason shifted his arm under her and hoisted her back up.
The man on the floor was slowly rising to his feet. Jason began to retreat towards the doors. He didn’t have a weapon and he was not interested in trying to take one of those things on with his bare hands.
The cop at the reception window was starting towards him. The zombie noticed right away and turned his direction. That gave Jason the opportuni
ty he needed and he slipped out the door. Just as he did, another car was pulling in. This one came right to the curb, but it was weaving and did not so much stop as it crashed into one of the pillars that supported the slab covering the entry.
Jason altered his course just enough to avoid the crashed car. As he passed the front of the vehicle, he saw a body slumped over the steering wheel. But in the passenger’s seat was a woman. Thankfully, she was belted in. He didn’t need much light to know what her situation was as she reached and clawed at the air. An ugly black rip in the flesh of her throat made even darker by the shadows gave away her fate. Her head lurched forward in futility as the shoulder harness kept her in place, but in that action, her face came into the light shining down from above. Jason could see the unnatural pallor of her skin…and the eyes.
He kept moving, his grip on Juanita tightening just slightly as he spied at least a dozen figures heading their direction. By their awkward gait, he knew what they were and realized that a weapon needed to be his new priority.
“When there is no more room in Hell…” Jason recited.
The door behind him opened with an electronic swish. “Hey, you! Wait up!” a voice called.
The sounds of moans from the undead carried on the wind as if in reply. And then another sound that made Jason freeze: the sound of a baby’s cry.
***
Rose gagged on the wave of stench that assailed her. In the closed up bedroom, the reek was so thick that she felt it in the back of her throat. She could smell the stink of sweat and shit…and something rotten.
It was Violet.
She was tied up on the bed just as Crystal had said she would be. However, she had thrashed and wriggled around enough so that she was cockeyed and lying diagonally with the blankets all kicked away.
“Oh, Violet,” Rose cried, the tears coming to her eyes and blurring her vision.
The only response from her sister was an increased thrashing and writhing. Violet opened her mouth that was still stained with the blood of her son from when she’d bitten the poor boy, letting out another of those horrible moans.
Looking around the room, Rose’s eyes settled on a piece of paper that was on the dresser. The handwriting was instantly recognizable as that belonging to Violet. Walking over to it, she could not tear her eyes away from the horrible thing that had once been her sister.
Picking up the piece of paper, Rose read:
Dear Sister,
If you are reading this, then my fears have been realized. For days, the news has been talking about this infection or plague. It does not matter what they call it. I know what it is. Or at least, I know what it does.
Please bear with me, but if you are reading this, then I am tied up in my bed (unless I have fallen on the floor or somehow managed to break free). I was bitten by a neighbor out at the gate.
I fear that I know how this will end. That is why I will have the children tie me up after I have written this letter. Rose, you are the last hope for my children. Trevor is in Seattle and called just about twenty minutes after the attack. He is in a hospital after being jumped in the parking garage of the hotel he was staying in during this most recent trip. He was bitten. He will not be coming home.
I know that you might have a hard time believing this, but trust me, Rose, these are zombies. Straight from the movies and all that stuff you never liked. I did one thing that might help you. I chased down the neighbor that bit me and crushed the skull with the three-pound sledge. (It is on the back porch, I did not want the kids to see it.) You have to do it just like in the movies. Aim for the head.
I have been trying to call you, but, as you may know, the phone lines are a disaster. I want you to know that if you do get here, there is nobody I would trust more with my children other than you.
And if I am still tied up in this bed, please end it. That is not me. That is a monster that will not recognize you as anything more than something to tear apart and eat.
I wish that I had more time to try and tell you more, but I am already fighting whatever this is that is burning up inside of me. Stay away from the cities. You can probably live here just fine if you reinforce the fencing. The cellar is stocked with enough food for a family of four to last at least a year. The spring planting was already done. All you need to do is take care of it and you will have more than enough.
The farm next door where the person that attacked me came from has chickens. I would grab some now. (I doubt they will be needing them anymore, LOL.) Between them and the goats, you should be well supplied.
One last thing, Trevor’s guns are in the safe in his study. The combination on the safe is 1-30-2-40-24. I don’t know how much ammo he has in there, but it should be plenty if you need to go that way. There is a baseball bat in Jacob’s room and a variety of weapons in the barn besides that small sledge hammer. I would save the gun to defend against the living. I have a scary feeling that they may be more dangerous than the zombies.
I love you.
Violet
Rose turned to the figure in the bed. It struggled and strained to get at her, its teeth gnashing on air with an audible click. Despite her sister’s request, she was not ready to deal with killing Violet just yet—or the zombie version if that was truly the case. She would go check on her nephew first.
Just as she was about to open the door, she heard Crystal scream, “Jacob! No!”
5
Beginning of the End
“What the hell?” Jason swore, untangling himself from Juanita and moving towards the sound. Ken took a step in that direction, but Jason held a hand up. “Don’t you have your hands full enough already?”
Without another word, he moved over to the row of cars from where the sound had come. It was too dark to see very well, and he did not have a flashlight. When the sound came again, Jason re-oriented his search and moved in as fast as he dared, taking care that he watched his footing. The last thing he wanted to do was step on an infant.
The cry came from right on the other side of the car Jason was moving around. The stench he was now associating with the undead was growing stronger. He looked around, worried that one of those things might be closing in. He saw nothing and hurried. He could worry about what to do with a baby later. He stepped around the bumper and froze. Once his eyes and brain were in sync again, he staggered back.
“Jesus!” he gasped.
“What is it?” Ken took a step forward, hating that he had this unconscious body in his arms.
Jason looked down and could not hold back the shudder. The body crawling towards him had been ripped almost in half. All that remained was the upper torso, one arm, and, of course, the head of the woman; which was, at the moment, craned up towards him. Jason was grateful for the darkness; he did not want to see clearly enough so that the details of what was crawling towards him could etch themselves in his brain along with all the other images.
He raised his foot and stomped down on the head of the thing. That almost cost him as the skull impacted on the pavement and his foot slid down the side. He’d read that move so many times in books that he’d actually convinced himself you could give a zombie a good stomp on the head and crush its skull.
Stepping back, Jason was stopped in his tracks when the sound of the baby cry came from the pathetic creature on the ground. He had already deduced that the noise came from this creature, but having it confirmed with his own eyes somehow eased his mind a great deal. This would complicate things just a bit. How would a person know if they were hearing a baby or one of the undead?
“Well?” Ken called.
“Umm…” Jason was at a loss how to explain, but he did not have to as the man pushed in beside him.
Jason shot the guy a sideways glance. Yep, this was a cop. If not, then he sure as hell should be with the attitude he was putting off. Before the man could ask any questions, the zombie lifted its head up at them and made a mewl that stretched into the baby cry sound.
“Holy crap,” Ken gasped.
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“Yeah,” Jason agreed.
A series of moans reminded the two men that there were other threats. Jason looked around to see that the parking lot was becoming busier. Two cars were prowling in that search for a spot. This, in turn, was bringing in more of the undead.
“Sound,” Jason said to nobody in particular.
“What?” Ken asked from beside him.
“The zombies are obviously attracted to sound.”
“And what makes you say that?” Ken challenged.
Jason walked over to a car and slapped it on the hood. He had his eyes fixed on a pair of zombies a few rows over. He was rewarded by their heads turning his direction and then altering their course. He watched as one bumped against a parked car and then seemed to struggle as to which direction to go.
“And they aren’t too incredibly bright,” Ken mumbled as he watched Jason’s hypothesis being given credence.
“That could be used to a person’s advantage,” Jason added. When he saw Ken shoot him a look, he took that as an invitation to explain. “Let’s say you are trapped someplace. If you can create a noise in another location, then the zombies might wander off and allow you to escape.”
Ken nodded and made a low noise in his throat. Jason reached down and picked up a few pieces of loose gravel and then tossed it at a car to his right, away from where he had parked the truck. Sure enough, the zombies in the area all turned and then slowly began to wander in that direction. All except for one that was now getting too close for comfort. It seemed to be locked on him and now had its arms out, hands opening and closing as it drew near.
He began to back away. With no weapon handy to actually do anything significant, he could only retreat. He had taken a few steps back when a dark figure moved past him fast. Something whizzed through the air and then there was a heavy thunking sound.