by Frost, Scott
We slowly made our way pass the bathroom door and into the bathroom. Emma didn’t scream, which meant that she did have her eyes closed. I nearly screamed, but stopped. I screamed in my mind. The far corner of the bathroom was covered with dead bodies. I couldn’t tell if they were infected, or not. They looked like infected, but I wasn’t sure. The walls were splattered with blood. I walked into the middle of the bathroom.
I counted seven bodies. The closer I got the more I believed that they were infected. They were all face down, and had gun shots wounds in the back of their heads.
They were dead, which means someone had to have killed them. And that someone might still have been close by. I froze, and shinned my flashlight in circles, looking for movement. I checked each stall, but the bathroom was empty, minus the dead bodies. Emma stood at my side, quiet, and scared, her hand squeezing my hand. I’m grateful she had kept her eyes closed.
As we walked back toward the door, I heard movement out in the open area. It sounded like walking. I froze, as did Emma. As we reached the door, I stood against the wall and looked out into the blackness. I didn’t want to shine the flashlight out there, but I couldn’t see anything otherwise. I turned the flashlight and readied my rifle. Emma’s hands grabbed at my side, grabbing hold of my belt. She attached herself to me. The flashlight beam alerted someone to our location, and then the footsteps started. I heard grunting sounds. I heard slow footsteps, sounds of the infected. I slung the rifle on my shoulder and grabbed Emma’s hand. We ran out of the bathroom and through the open area toward the kitchen. We made it about five feet out of the bathroom, when Emma tripped. She started screaming. I stopped, as her hand slipped out of mine.
I turned around and the flashlight showed what I was afraid of, a group of infected. I looked toward the north end of the building, and spotted how they gained entrance. A door was open, and sunlight filled a small area of darkness. I didn’t know how many there were, but if it was the group that was chasing us, the count was most likely around a dozen. As I reached for Emma, her screams intensified, and she starting kicking. I turned the flashlight on her, and saw why. An infected, with no legs, had crawled toward Emma, and was now reaching and pulling at her legs. Emma kicked with all her might, and landed a foot on his head. It stunned him, but not for long. I grabbed her and ran. I heard more grunting, and footsteps. The flashlight died. I banged it against my side, but nothing happened. It was too dark to see how close they were, but the smell was close. We ran through the open area, nearly tripping on chairs, and made it into the kitchen. The kitchen was softly lit by rays of light from windows that were boarded up. The kitchen door had no lock. It was just a swinging door. I knew we couldn’t stay there. At the far end of the kitchen was a door. We ran for the door. It was unlocked. I looked behind us, no sight of the infected yet. To our left were shelves with some canned food, water and juice containers. Several empty boxes were on the floor. It looks like whoever was here last left in a hurry and didn't have time to take all of the supplies. I opened the door, and looked inside.
It was a small office, but it had a lock, and a heavy oak desk that could be pushed against the door. I pushed Emma inside and told her to stay. She didn’t reply. Nor did she follow me. I quickly ran back into the kitchen, still no sign of infected. But the smell was getting closer and footsteps were louder.
Maybe the dark slowed them down. I didn’t know nor did I want to spend time thinking about it. I grabbed an empty box and started throwing canned food, water bottles and juice bottles into it. As soon as it was full, I ran back into the office and dropped it on the floor. Emma was standing behind the desk watching me. She didn’t make a sound. She was too scared to speak.
I ran back into the kitchen and grabbed another box and started to load more supplies, napkins, plastic forks and spoons. I picked up a bag of chips but then tossed them. They would’ve been stale. I looked around for a first aid kit, but didn’t find one. As I started to open cabinet doors, the infected walked into the kitchen. The doors swung open and in they came. The smell was terrible. I ran back into the office, closed, and locked the door. I dropped the box on the floor and ran over to the desk.
“Emma, watch out. Stand over there.” I said pointing toward the wall away from the door. Her eyes stayed on the boxes of food and water. I pushed the desk against the door, and then turned around and decided to add a bookshelf. I grabbed the back of the bookshelf and leaned it forward, dropping all of its contents onto the floor. Once it was empty, I dragged it, and then lifted it, and placed it on top of the desk. Next, I put two oak file cabinets against the desk. That was all I could do. There was nothing else in the office that I could use to barricade the door. I leaned against one of the file cabinets. The only light was from the bottom of the door, it was very faint light. I lit a candle, and waved Emma over to me. She slowly walked on her tiptoes. She knew what was on the other side of the door. She walked pass the boxes and stopped. She looked at me, and back at the boxes.
“Help yourself.” I said. She reached into the first box and grabbed a plastic container of apple juice. She opened it and quickly finished it. She sat down and carefully looked through the cans of food. She settled on a can of carrots, which were her favorite. She sat there, while the pounding on the door grew louder, and slowly ate every last carrot. I think she chose not to hear the pounding. She no longer looked afraid. She looked toward me and smiled. She grabbed a bottle of water and gave it to me. I pulled her down, and kissed her forehead. She gave me a big hug, and quietly asked if she could have another can of carrots.
Chapter Six
The pounding continued for hours. We sat in the corner, empty cans and bottles in front of us. Emma fell asleep. Poor girl was exhausted. Her head was on my lap. I had given her a t-shirt that was in my bag to use as a pillow, and a sweater to use as a blanket. She fell asleep quickly, but her sleep was troubled. She kept moving and talking in her sleep. I couldn’t understand what she was saying. My eyes wanted to close, but I kept them opened. The candle had burned down to nothing. The room was dark. The room didn’t have any windows, which was a good thing, but the darkness was unsettling. I sat there, listening to the pounding. The infected were persistent. I waited for the door to break open, but it didn’t and as I sat there in the dark with Emma asleep on my lap, my eyes slowly closed, and the sounds of knocking plagued my dreams.
I don’t remember all of my nightmares. But the main nightmare was that the infected had found a way into the room. The funny thing was that they didn’t attack me. They grabbed Emma and left. In my nightmare they could run. I tried to catch them but they outran me. I searched for Emma, but couldn’t find her. I woke up from this nightmare in a cold sweat. Emma was still asleep, but she had moved from my lap to the floor, wrapped in the sweater.
It was cold in the office, even though it was July. I assumed it was night, but I wasn’t sure. All I knew for sure was that they were still out there. There seemed to be less pounding. It didn’t matter. We couldn’t leave until the pounding stopped and even then it might not be safe. I had failed Emma. I had led her to her death. Yes, we did find supplies, but we were stuck.
My mind went into overload trying to develop a plan. I couldn’t make out anything on the walls, but wondered if there was a vent or something like that that we could sneak out of and escape to a safe place. I had seen people do that in horror movies many times. Why not us? I had three candles left, and considered lighting one, but decided against it. The light might attract their attention. I was hoping that they would eventually leave. Maybe they’d stay out there pounding on the door until they collapsed from starvation. The truth was I had no idea. Could they die without being shot in the head? That was the sure way of killing them, or in that matter any blunt force to the head. Without a brain they were dead.
It was hard to keep my eyes open so I let them shut. The dark can play tricks on your mind. I learned that the hard way. As I sat there, half asleep, I saw things moving about the room. At one p
oint during the night I thought I heard Natasha calling out for me and Emma. My nightmares eventually turned into a very welcomed dream. I dreamed of Natasha. I dreamed that we were back in the old days, before the infected. We were together again as a family, and we were running down a beach. The sand was perfectly white and the water a crystal blue. It was a warm summer day. Emma was wearing her Dora the Explorer bathing suit and Natasha had on her sexy white bikini. She was beautiful. Her skin was tan, and her hair lightly pulled into a ponytail. Her soft green eyes and her smile were effortless. We ran until we collapsed onto the sand, laughing.
“Daddy, are you awake?” Emma asked.
I wanted to stay in the dream.
“Daddy, I’m scared.” I opened my eyes and reached into the darkness and grabbed Emma. I pulled her onto my lap and held her. She was sweating and felt hot. Her fever had gotten worse.
“It’s okay sweetie. How do you feel?”
She hesitated before she answered. I held her tight, and wrapped the sweater around her as best as I could. She had her arms around me and rested her head on my chest. The pounding was softer now, but still there. It was constant. I wondered how long it would take before the door’s hinges gave way. I hoped the barricade would protect us.
“I don’t feel that good. I feel hot. I’m sorry daddy.”
She started crying.
“Em, it’s okay. Does your stomach hurt?”
“No, just my head and I feel hot.”
“Sweetie, I love you so much. I am going to find some aspirin as soon as they go away. Do you want some water?”
I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know if I could find any medicine for her. I definitely couldn’t find anything with the infected out there. I started to cry, and this time Emma noticed.
“Daddy, it's okay, don’t cry. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t feel sick.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I’m crying. Everything will be okay. I love you.”
“Okay. I love you too daddy.”
We sat in silence the rest of the night. Emma stayed in my lap. She fell asleep, but it took me a long time to close my eyes. I listened to the pounding. The noise was enough to drive me insane. I tried to think about Natasha, but couldn’t. It felt like hours before I fell asleep. I don’t remember dreaming. The last thing I remember is closing my eyes.
When I woke Emma was already awake. The room was no longer pitch black. Light from under the door made its way in and dimly lit the room. Emma was lying on the floor, on her stomach, reading her book. I couldn’t tell if she could see the words, but every other minute she turned the page. My back was in pain from leaning against the wall. And my legs ached. I looked around the room. No escape from the ceiling. No escape from the wall opposite of me. I looked to my left, and I saw a vent. It wasn’t big enough. And then before I got up and turned to look at the wall I had been leaning against, I realized that the pounding had stopped. I listened and it was silent.
“Emma how long have you been awake?” I asked, hoping it had been for a while.
“I don’t now maybe about ten minutes. I didn’t want to wake you up. Can I get something to eat?”
“Yes of course. When you woke up did you hear any pounding?”
“No.”
Okay, so no pounding in the last ten minutes. Maybe the coast is clear
“Daddy, do you want something to eat?”
“No thanks. I will eat later.”
She continued to look at me. And I could tell that she wanted to say something, but she looked away and grabbed a can of peaches from the box. All of the canned food had flip top lids. Thank God for that. A majority of the food was still good, but a few had expired. I put them to the side. We would save them for last. I figured if we rationed our supplies they could last about a week. I decided that I would eat as little as possible.
I checked the rifle and counted the bullets again, five left. I needed to find more ammunition. We needed to find a new place to keep safe. If we could somehow gather as many supplies as we could and make it back to our house, everything would be okay, at least for a couple of months. There was still a lot of canned food and water in the kitchen. I wondered why it hadn’t been used. My thoughts went back to the woman’s bathroom, and the pile of dead infected bodies. Someone had to have shot them. Where did that person or group of people go? Why did they leave? After all why leave a place that had supplies. The building could have been secured.
I should have secured the building when I had the chance. As soon as we walked in I should have found all the doors and made sure they were locked. If I had we wouldn’t have been stuck in the small office.
Movement.
Emma stopped reading. She looked at me with wide eyes. I put a finger over my mouth. She nodded. I heard footsteps. At first they were distant, but then they got closer. The footsteps grew louder. I didn’t smell anything. The smell of death that had stayed with us throughout the night was gone. The footsteps got closer, and then they stopped. The light from under the door was blocked. I reached for my rifle. Emma quietly stood up and walked back toward me. I listened and waited. It felt like a lifetime of waiting. The door handle was being turned, but luckily the door was locked. And then I heard a key being slid into the door handle.
Click.
And the door was unlocked, but the barricade stopped the door. I knew it wasn’t an infected, but also knew that infected weren’t the only danger we had to worry about.
“Is someone in there?” A ladies voice quietly asked. She had stopped trying to push the door open. I heard the door click as the door shut. I debated on answering, thinking that it could be a trap. There could be a group of people out there waiting for the door to open. If there was a group, I also knew that they could open the door if they really wanted too. The lady’s voice was soft and sweet.
“Yes. Who are you?” I raised my voice and tried to sound firm, and strong, though inside I was scarred.
“Oh my god, you’re alive. My name is Mary Ellen, and my husband, who is securing all the doors, is Clyde Ellen. We didn’t think we would find anyone in this town, well besides infected. Its okay we don’t mean you any harm. We came here hoping to find something to eat and drink.
“I’m Alex and my daughter is Emma. I’m sorry but she is a little scared of people. I’m sure you can imagine why. Where did you guys come from?”
“We’re from Clifton. We made it here but then we ran out of gas. We were hoping to find some in this town, but haven’t had any luck. We haven’t seen another living person in months.”
Months, I thought to myself. It had been much longer than that for us. Clifton is south of Bradley.
“Did you guys drive through Bradley?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t safe. The infected are still all over down there. It wasn’t safe, so we left and came here. Most of Bradley is in flames. I’m not sure what started the fire. It’s not a pretty sight. My husband just walked in. Clyde, come meet Alex and his daughter Emma.”
“Howdy, I’m Clyde. It’s nice to meet the both of you. I can’t tell you how nice it is. We’ve been trying to find survivors, but haven’t had any luck. You can come out, I’ve secured the building. The doors are locked and barricaded. And we don’t mean you any harm. We are a bit hungry, do you mind if we have some of your food out here, and maybe a couple bottles of water?”
“Help yourself. It’s not mine. I’m sorry, but I have to be careful, I have to protect my daughter. Do you guys have any weapons?”
“Yes sir we do. I have a shotgun and two handguns, and my beautiful wife has a rifle. But don’t worry we don’t want to cause you any trouble. We just need a place to rest, and some food and water. I understand about protecting your loved ones, how old is your daughter?”
“Emma is eight. In fact her birthday is coming up. I think. I’m sorry it’s hard to keep track of the time.”
“Well sweetie, happy birthday.” Mary said in a sweet grandmother like voice. I
could tell that they were an older couple. They both had southern accents. I trusted them.
“Thanks,” Emma’s voice came out soft and hesitant.
“Okay, I’m going to move everything away from the door. Would you mind stepping back a little?”
“Not a problem,” Clyde said, understanding my request.
I motioned for Emma to stand on the other side of the room. She stood in the corner out of sight. I moved the file cabinets to the side of the room, and then the bookcase. The desk was not easy to move. Slowly, I pushed it out of the way, but kept it close to the door.
“Emma, I want you to stay in here until I say it’s okay.”
She nodded her head. And then it hit me, if they weren’t from here how did they have a key for this room. I locked the door.
“If you’re not from around here, how do you have a key for this room?”
Mary answered.
“When I tried to unlock the door and it was locked I looked around for the key. Clyde found a ring with a bunch of keys, which is how he locked the doors. There was only one small key on the ring, so I figured it was for this door.”
“How big is the ring of keys? Will it fit under the door?”
I looked at the bottom of the door. It was about one inch from the floor.
“Yes, it should fit. Would you like me to slide it under?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay here it comes.”
The keys slid easily under the door. I figured they wouldn’t surrender the keys if they wanted to get in this room. Or maybe it was still a trap. I didn’t know.
“Okay, we’re coming out.” I looked at Emma, and motioned for her to stay. I had the rifle in my hands, and I slowly opened the door, rifle pointing straight in front of me.
The door only opened half way, so I had to turn side ways to get out. They were both standing about ten feet away. As I walked out, Clyde nodded, and set his shotgun on the counter. Mary had her rifle slung over her shoulder. She kept it there.