The Missing

by Gary Chesla

  “Hey Tom,” Ed called out.

  “I see them,” I replied and motioned for Ed to be quiet and to stay down behind the wall.

  “Can I come over next to you?” Ed whispered.

  I nodded and motioned for Ed to come over.

  Ed looked hesitant, then he asked, “Your dog isn’t going to bite me, is he?”

  “You’ll be fine, just stay on this side of me so you don’t step on his tail again,” I whispered back. Along with all his other faults, Ed was almost as clumsy as the dead. I’m amazed that over the last year that Ed had never stumbled and fallen into the open jaws of one of the dead.

  Ed stayed down and crawled slowly over next to me, keeping his eyes on Bear the entire time.

  Bear growled quietly, but not because of Ed, Bear was focused on the three staggering zombies coming out into the field in front of us.

  “Are you going to shoot them now?” Ed whispered. “I’ve never seen anyone that can shoot like you.”

  “Not yet,” I replied. “Let them get a little closer.”

  “Why? I’ve seen you shoot them further away than this,” Ed asked then added, “I think you should shoot them now.”

  “Be patient,” I replied, “If they are going to come closer and make my job easier, I am going to let them.”

  “You want me to yell at them, that will make them come up this way a lot faster so you can shoot them?” Ed asked. “I like watching when you shoot them, it sure is a lot better than trying to drop something heavy on their heads. It’s also a lot better than hiding inside the buildings until they go away, sometimes they will hang around for days.”

  “That would get them moving,” I replied, “but what if they have a hundred friends out there in the woods behind them?”

  “I guess my yelling would attract them to the fort too,” Ed said. “I see your point. It gets scary when too many of them are out there.”

  “We don’t want to ask for more trouble than we are prepared to handle,” I replied. “I don’t think we are ready for something like that. It’s better to be quiet and don’t let them know we’re here, then take them out at our pace.”

  “Just don’t let them get too close,” Ed said looking worried

  I waited a few minutes longer, then slowly raised my bow, pulled back the string and let the first arrow fly, dropping the closest staggering body when the arrow lodged in the side of its skull.

  I then quietly shot the two remaining figures that had continued to drag their bodies across the field, none of them took any notice of their fallen comrades. Why they didn’t seem to notice when one of the other zombies in their group fell to the ground was something else that I had long ago stopped trying to understand. I knew there was a lot that I didn’t understand, but I didn’t worry about that either. I didn’t see any use in worrying about something that I had no control over, I had plenty of other things to occupy my mind, things that I could understand and control.

  “I wish I could do that,” Ed said, a large smile on his face as he stared out into the field.

  “Keep practicing and some day you might be better than I am,” I replied. “It took me a couple months before I was any good with a bow, it just takes practice.”

  Ed just smiled.

  Before Ed could say anything else, we heard the sound of running feet coming towards our side of the fort and we both turned to look to see who was in such a hurry.

  “Ed! Ed!” a guy named Bill shouted. “You have to come right away, something terrible has happened.”

  Ed looked at me.

  “It sounds important, you better go see what it is,” I said.

  Ed quickly climbed down off the wall and looked at Bill.

  “Right outside the back wall, hurry,” Bill said.

  Ed took off running.

  As Ed ran across the courtyard, I looked down at Bill, “What happened?”

  “Ed’s wife and daughter were out behind the fort looking for berries,” Bill replied. “His daughter got attacked and her arm got chewed up pretty bad. His wife wanted me to get Ed so he could see his daughter before she dies.”

  “What were they doing outside the fort on their own?” I asked, “Wasn’t anyone standing guard?” But I didn’t expect an answer that would make any sense. Not a lot of what happened around here made much sense. Yesterday two of the men in the fort decided to take a hike down to the river to go swimming. They went unarmed and without a lookout, they went because they were hot. They both returned an hour later because they were lucky.

  Like I said, the only reason I can think of why these people are still here is because they are lucky.

  Bill looked up at me and just shrugged his shoulders.

  I climbed down off the wall. Bill took three steps back when Bear jumped down to the ground next to me. I smiled to myself, that was one of the few signs of any intelligent thinking that I’ve seen displayed by any of these people.

  “I’m going to go see if I can help Ed,” I said looking at Bill.

  “What if the dead show up while you’re gone?” Bill asked. “Who is going to kill them?”

  “The dead are slow, I’ll be back before any of them can reach the fort,” I replied. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. You can go up and keep watch for me until I get back if you want.”

  “I can’t,” Bill said. “I’m on burial duty.”

  “Burial duty?” I asked.

  “Someone has to bury the dead before they turn into one of those monsters,” Bill replied then smiled, “No one else likes to do it, but I don’t mind, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to bury anyone. I volunteer because mostly I just get to sit around and relax most of the time.”

  I’m sure it hasn’t occurred to anyone here that they could go fishing or trapping to add to the food supply, and still be able to bury anyone unfortunate enough to be attacked by the dead. With only about twenty-five people still alive at the fort, commonsense would dictate that everyone would pitch in and do more than one thing at a time to help the group survive. However, with this group, commonsense was not very common around here.

  I followed Bill across the yard and out through the back gate. I saw a small group of about ten people standing around two people kneeling on the ground around a small frail body.

  I could hear Ed’s wife Cheryl sobbing as I got closer, Ed was talking softly trying to comfort his little girl during her final minutes.

  As I joined the crowd and looked down at Ed and his family, I found it difficult to judge how old his daughter was. All these people were thin and frail due to their meager diet. The girl could be anywhere from eight years old to fourteen years old, it was difficult to tell. The girl’s small stature made her look young, but the sunken eyes and tightly stretched weathered skin that covered her face made her looks years older than she probably was.

  In today’s world how old you looked was no longer important, all that was important was that you were alive. But I could tell by the sickly pale complexion and the look in her eyes, a look that I had seen all too often, that she would not be alive for much longer.

  Ed had wrapped his daughter’s arm in a white rag, but the white rag was quickly turning red. I could also see that she had suffered a few more wounds besides the ones on her arm. The sight in front of me made me feel sick.

  I could feel tears running down my face, the scene in front of me brought back memories of what I had endured myself in the early days when the dead first appeared.

  I knew the helpless feeling that must be going through Ed’s mind, the feeling of dread, the empty feelings that were overwhelming him. The knowledge that your life would no longer be the same. The empty hole in the pit of his stomach that this would leave.

  In my case, I lost both my wife and daughter at the same time. I rushed home from work one afternoon after receiving a frantic call from my wife. I didn’t understand what was happening or why she was so terrified, but as I drove home confused and frustrated, I began to understand. The streets were
full of bloody people running for their lives. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but this sight told me that I had to get home as fast as I could.

  When I got near my house, my neighborhood looked like it had been invaded, bloody dead bodies were everywhere, most of them still moving. I fought my way into my house. What I found inside will remain burned into my mind for as long as I live.

  Bear was ferociously defending the bloody bodies of my wife and daughter form two ugly moving corpses, the kind you would only see in one of your worst nightmares. After crushing the skulls of the two animals that were attacking my family, I only had about three minutes to hear their story and to say my final goodbyes.

  When it was over, only Bear and I remained, I’m not sure how Bear had managed to survive his injuries, I heard some time later that only humans were at risk from the mysterious infection that was ravaging the world, but whatever the reason all I can say is that I am thankful that he did.

  I found a soldier outside my house battling the dead that told me what he knew about what was happening. He also was the one that told me what would happen next and what I would need to do to put my family to rest and spare them from what no husband and father could bear to see happening to his family.

  I was reluctant to believe what he told me, until I saw it happen with my own eyes. But after I saw it happen, I did what I knew I had to do. I did what I have done far too many times over the last year. I’m glad that I am not in Ed’s shoes at a time like this, he had to know what came next, what had to be done. I had no idea how any of these people here would deal with a situation like this. I was afraid to even guess at their solution.

  I heard Ed break into heavy sobs, then I noticed that his daughter was no longer moving. At least Ed would still have his wife to help ease the pain, a pain that would never go away.

  I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. Ed looked up at me and I could feel the anguish inside him that was tearing him apart.

  “I’ve got it from here,” Bill said coldly, with what I thought was a tinge of excitement in his voice.

  He said it in such a cold manner that I wanted to turn and deck Bill with a right hook. I could see the horror flash across Ed’s face at the sound of Bill’s voice. At this point, after all this time, even Ed had to know what came next, what had to be done. Knowing this had to be as bad or worse than watching his daughter die in his arms. It was a nightmare that no father should ever have to face.

  “I’ll go with Bill and make sure your little girl is treated properly,” I said, hoping to help Ed by taking this burden and nightmare off his shoulders. “You don’t need to see this. I’ll come and get you and your wife after your daughter has had a proper burial. Take your wife and go home.”

  Ed looked up at me and nodded, “Thanks Tom,” Ed sniffed, “she was only ten years old.”

  “I know,” I replied. “It’s a horrible thing. Go home, I’ll come find you when we’re done.”

  Ed and his wife stood slowly, took one last long look at their daughter, then sobbed as they slowly walked away.

  When they were back inside the fort, I bent down and picked up Ed’s daughter. She felt as light as a pile of rags, she was little more than skin and bones. I had to fight back the anger that I felt, thinking about how these people lived, how they could let something like this happen when it could have all been avoided with some commonsense. It could have been avoided by something as simple as having a lookout. In this group, I’m sure this little girl’s life had been a living hell, at least it had been worse than it had needed to be. Life itself was hell now days, but there were things that could be done to make it at least tolerable. Living with these people, I could only imagine how this little creature cried herself to sleep every night from hunger, neglect and fear.

  “We better hurry,” Bill said, “she will turn into one of those monsters in about ten minutes.”

  “I know how long it takes,” I replied coldly, “just lead the way.”

  Bill ran into the fort and returned a minute later carrying a shovel and an axe, then signaled for me to follow him.

  It only took us a couple of minutes to reach the small graveyard down the hill from the back of the fort. When we reached the graveyard, Bill said, “Put her down here, we’ll bury her next to that wooden cross, that’s where the next body goes.”

  I looked at the head stones that marked the graves of the early pioneers, then at the four rows marked by small crudely made small wooden crosses. Aside from the small crosses, there wasn’t anything to indicate who was buried in any of the newer graves. There were no flowers planted or small personal items placed on the graves by the surviving family members, it was as if once the dead had been buried, they were just forgotten.

  I had visited Sandy and Nicole’s grave in my back yard every day, talking and leaving them something that I felt had been important to all of us, right up until the time I had to run for my life. The lack of emotion or feelings around here was something I couldn’t understand. At least Ed and his wife were sincerely heartbroken at the loss of their daughter. Despite all of Ed’s other short comings, he has been the only one here at the fort to show any human emotions. The rest of these people seemed cold and distant.

  My thoughts and emotions were interrupted when Bill asked, “You want the shovel or the axe?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You want to use the shovel or the axe?” Bill asked again.

  “I was meaning to ask you what the axe is for?” I asked.

  “The shovel is to dig the grave,” Bill replied. “I really hope you pick the shovel. I hate digging in this rocky ground around here. Using the axe is a lot easier, but some people are a little squeamish and so they pick the shovel.”

  “Some people are squeamish about what?” I asked.

  “About cutting the head off the corpse,” Bill replied. “I thought you knew about things like this.”

  “You are going to do what!” I exclaimed, shocked by Bill’s response.

  “You have to cut off the head before you bury the body,” Bill added. “If you don’t cut off their head, they end up digging themselves out of the ground. At first that was a big problem, we’d bury the bodies but found them banging against the outside of the fort the next morning. After we started cutting off their heads, we haven’t had that problem.”

  I stared at Bill for a few seconds.

  “You mean you are going to cut off this poor little girl’s head with an axe?” I asked. “Haven’t Ed and Cheryl suffered enough without having their little girl’s body mutilated like that? Bill, that’s sick.”

  “But we have to, we were told that the head can still control the body after someone gets infected and dies, if you don’t cut off their head, they come back as one of those sick bastards that eats people,” Bill replied. “I guess we could just burn the entire body like we do with the ones you shoot out in front of the fort, but we were told we have to bury our own out here in the cemetery.”

  “You don’t have to do that to this poor little girl,” I said.

  “We just can’t bury her like this,” Bill said. “It’s not safe and we have to hurry up and do it before she starts to change…..”

  Before Bill finished speaking, we were both startled when Bear began to growl.

  I quickly looked around to see if the dead were sneaking up on us while we were occupied discussing the group’s burial customs.

  When I didn’t see anything, I looked at Bear and saw him staring at the body of the little girl. His teeth were bared as he growled, and I saw that the girl’s body was beginning to move.

  “It’s happening,” Bill said sounding alarmed. “I’ve got to do this now! Get out of my way so you don’t get blood all over you when I hit her with the axe. This part can get messy.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said, “but we’re not cutting her head off, that’s not necessary and it’s sick as hell, especially after what just happened to this poor little thing.”

  I q
uickly dropped to my knees next to the girl’s body, put one hand on her head, turned it to the side and held it firmly to the ground. I then reached into my pocket, took out my knife, held the point of the knife against the neck under the back of the skull and slowly pushed the blade up and into the brain.

  The little body stopped moving and fell limp.

  I looked up at Bill, “It’s the brain, not the head that controls the body. Why do you think when I shoot those walkers out front that they stop moving? You don’t need to cut their heads off, you just need to kill the brain. If someone would have tried to cut off my wife and daughter’s heads after they died, I think I would have killed them with my bare hands.”

  “I see your point,” Bill finally said. “That does seem to be a lot less messy.”

  “These people are going to drive me crazy if I stay around here much longer,” I thought to myself.

  “I have another question about something that’s been bothering me,” I said. “Why aren’t there any flowers or anything on the graves of the people buried here from your group?”