by Eric Baker
The man released the barrel of the shotgun and stepped backward, whether from the blast or in shock, Daisy didn’t care. All she knew was that this man, a man who looked dead, had just killed one of her best friends in the world. A sob stuck in her throat as she thought of Frank.
The man before her made another attempt at a moan. Daisy used the step of space between them now to bring the shotgun up to the man’s head.
“This is for Frank!” Her voice came out in a throaty, broken whisper. One more time, she pulled the trigger on the shotgun.
This time she felt the blast as she saw the man’s head all but disappear. Daisy waited the moment she needed to confirm the man was indeed dead, watching as he fell over onto his back and was still. Then she dropped the shotgun, turned to the bar, put her head down and wept.
Doc had moved to help Maggie when the man from the kitchen had come out. Once again, he wished for his medical bag. And not only for medicine he needed for the wounded. He also carried a revolver in his bag. He knew a lot of medical men refused to carry a weapon and claimed they could never take a life. But most of them lived in the cities. Life - and death - was a different thing out here.
The altercation between Daisy and the man didn’t take long, but Doc had felt helpless enough to last a lifetime. He made sure that his previous patient and his new patient were both calm, then he headed to the bar to check on Daisy. They would all need to be on alert if they were to survive this. And he really needed his bag.
“Daisy? Are you injured? Did he… did he bite…” Doc couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Daisy raised her tear-stained face up from the bar.
“No, Doc, he didn’t bite me. But Frank…”
At the thought of her friend, she turned and ran to his body on the floor. Doc grabbed at her arm but missed.
“Daisy, wait! Be careful!”
Daisy knelt by Frank and looked at his face. The blood on his neck had stopped flowing, and his eyes were open and glazed. He was gone. She sighed, wishing there was something she could say or do to bring him back. Daisy tenderly reached up and closed his eyes, careful not to get any blood on her hand.
Doc patted her shoulder in comfort. He also felt the loss of Frank, a man he had talked to at the bar for years, and considered a good man. And a friend.
“Daisy, I need to go to my office and get my medicine bag.” He motioned to his patients. “Maggie has a compound fracture that will get infected unless something is done, killing her just as surely as…” Doc paused, realizing what he was about to say.
“And the gentleman there, well..” He lowered his voice. “I think he may be infected, but we may be able to save him if I can get the right medicines into him in time. Maybe.”
“OK, Doc.” Daisy straightened up and pushed her hair out of her face. “Make a list of what you need and I’ll get it.” She turned away, walking past the decapitated man on the ground behind the bar. She picked up the shotgun and reloaded it.
“No! Daisy, that’s not what I meant. I’ll go get it, I just wanted you to know. To be ready, in case…”
“Not gonna happen, Doc.” Daisy paused and looked once again at the body of Frank on the floor. Her face tightened as she looked upon her friend. She felt the anger coursing through her body. “You know as well as I do that I’ll have a better chance getting to your office and back. Especially if I want to beat the group of these… zombies… that Deputy Rickborn says is headed our way.”
Walking around the bar, she stopped and stared Doc straight in the eyes. He flinched. The look in her eyes told him not to argue. Besides that, she was right. She could get to the office and back in the time he got halfway there.
“Fine, have it your way. But you be careful. I don’t need the sheriff gunning for me if you get hurt… or worse.” Doc wondered in that moment where Eli was and prayed for his safety.
“Good choice. But first, I think I need to change into something more comfortable.” She couldn’t help but give Doc her best attempt at a saucy smile at the comment. Doc rewarded her by rolling his eyes.
“Fine, but hurry. I’ll tend Maggie as best I can.”
Doc left her and headed over to his patients. The man seemed to be doing fine for now, his mind on Maggie and not his own pain. But as he stroked Maggie’s hair from her face, Doc noticed that the man’s hand was getting progressively worse. Hopefully, they would have time.
____
Daisy Flowers never considered herself to be the standard prissy female that did what was expected of her. Even though she had tried being a professional singer and actor, with all the glitz and glamour that entailed, she still held on to her true self. Strong. Motivated. And willing to do whatever it took to survive.
All this was going through her mind as she stripped off her dress and donned her work pants and shirt. She never got to wear them anymore since she had decided to make a living as a waitress. But if she were honest, she felt more at home in pants and boots than in a frilly dress.
Something else was going through her mind she couldn’t let go of, a word she never thought she’d apply to anything in her own life: zombie. She mulled over the word and tried to remember where she had read about it. All she could come up with was that it had something to do with magic, voodoo, and death. And the dead coming back to life. She heard a noise from downstairs and paused, listening, but no other sounds were forthcoming.
Pulling a belt and holster from her trunk, she gave it a once over before putting it around her waist. Frowning, she realized the belt cinched up a hole short of where she normally buckled it. She must have put on a little weight since coming to town. She’d worry about that later.
Picking up a heavy cloth from the trunk, she took out a .38 caliber six-shooter, a Colt 1877 with a two-and-a-half-inch barrel. The pistol had been a comfort to her on many occasions when she had felt less than safe. Although an older model, she loved it mostly because it was a gift from her parents.
Checking the action, she pulled a pouch of ammo out and loaded the weapon. Pulling the leather strap on the ammo pouch through her belt, she picked up her hat and headed back out the door of her room.
Moving down the hall toward the stairs, Daisy felt, or maybe she heard, something wrong. Slowing, she approached the rail and peered down. The sight below was bizarre enough to cause her mind to try and reject what she was seeing.
A pile of dead bodies lay against the wall near the stairs and a decapitated man was behind the bar. Near the front doors, she saw Doc, an injured Maggie, and Doc’s other patient all crouching down behind a table. And stumbling around as if stone-cold drunk and out of his mind was Frank.
She couldn’t help herself, and a small gasp of astonishment escaped. She looked at Doc as she clamped her hand over her mouth. Hiding behind the table, Doc waved at her to be quiet. But the damage had been done. The body that used to be Frank turned toward her.
Daisy froze at the sight of her friend and coworker. Frank looked almost normal at this distance, except for the large glistening red wound on his neck. His face also appeared darker than normal with black tendrils highlighting the veins. His hands were grasping in front of him as he looked back and forth between her and the surrounding room.
Daisy continued to stay motionless as she watched. Why didn’t he see her? Maybe the shadows in the upstairs hall were just enough to protect her. And why had he turned into… this... zombie so fast?
It was hard for her to call her friend that word, but he had died. Now he was moving. It seemed appropriate. Then something else occurred to her. He seemed to be quicker in his movements than the others, even with all the stumbling around. Maybe because he was bitten on the neck? That he had just died? No. He wasn’t dried out like the others. That had to be the reason.
She looked back to Doc and noticed that both of his patients were lying on the floor in obvious pain. It was a given that one of them would make a noise before long and Frank would get to them. Then she noticed Doc pointing at the table in front of hi
m. No, past it, toward the bar. Then she saw it. On the bar was the shotgun.
Daisy knew she had no choice. Doc and the others were defenseless. She waited until Frank looked around the main room again, and moved her hand to her pistol. Then she heard the sound she had hoped wouldn’t come. A small gasp of pain.
Frank heard it, too. His head whipped around and looked at the table hiding Doc, Maggie and the other man. His earlier stumbling disappeared. Now he had focus. A low, predatory growl came from his throat as he crouched ever so slightly with hands reaching out. He moved one foot and then the other, moving toward the table.
Doc looked at Daisy with fear on his face. He knew he only had seconds. He looked around for a weapon of any sort, but the only thing nearby was a chair. Looking back at Daisy, he pointed to the chair, then at Frank.
Doc then held up three fingers. Daisy looked at him in confusion. Doc lowered one finger, showing two fingers. Daisy raised her eyebrows in understanding. Doc lowered another finger, his index finger pointing to the ceiling. Daisy tensed her body and leaned toward the stairs.
Doc grabbed the chair from behind him and pulled it toward Frank as he stood up. The chair scraped the floor. Frank lunged, bouncing off the edge of the table before he reoriented himself. Doc had just enough time to get the chair legs facing Frank when they met.
Daisy ran down the stairs two at a time, pistol in her hand. Reaching the bottom, her eyes never leaving Frank and Doc, she aimed at Frank but couldn’t get a clear shot.
Doc was pushing the chair into Frank when he felt movement beside him. The man he had been treating stood up unsteadily and lent his waning strength to the defense. Doc noticed that his hand was looking even worse than before and a quick glance at the man showed his face covered in sweat.
Looking back at Frank, Doc moved his head to keep from being grabbed. As he moved, the chair shifted, and the man at his side slipped forward. His injured hand slid over the chair bottom and into Frank’s face. Frank bared his teeth and leaned forward, looking as though he would bite the hand. But Frank leaned past the hand, ignoring it. Instead, Frank reached in over the chair, getting closer to Doc, grabbing his sleeve.
Daisy kept maneuvering around the back of Frank. She knew she would only get one shot. She had to make it count. But she didn’t want that shot to hit Doc. So, she waited and prayed for an opening.
The man next to Doc had not missed what had happened. He had braced for the pain of the bite, and when it had not come, he had almost collapsed. Resetting himself, he helped Doc push Frank back once again. Then he looked at his hand. He had also not missed the discoloration, radiating out from where he had punched Blue. He hadn’t known the implications of that punch, he just knew he was protecting a lady in need. But now, with all he had seen, including the dead body of Frank attacking them, he knew he would be dead soon.
Pushing hard against the chair, the man then let go. He slid around the table leg and the chair. Doc grunted at the extra weight of Frank crashing back into the chair. The man reached around the chair legs and grabbed Frank by the arm, pulling him away from Doc. Frank turned against this new threat and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt.
The man put his injured hand into Frank’s face and pushed him away. Frank’s face went blank for just a second. He looked left and right, then focused on Doc once again, letting go of the man. But the man didn’t let go of Frank. He grabbed the sides of Frank’s head with both hands, forcing Frank to look at him. He turned, putting his face between Frank and Doc. Over Frank’s shoulder, he could see Daisy aiming toward the back of Frank’s head.
“Shoot.”
It was said in such a normal tone that Daisy almost missed the word. She wanted to shoot, but the man would get hit, too. She tried to move to the side, but the man moved himself and Frank in sync with her motion.
“Shoot!”
He said it even louder this time, urging her to shoot. Daisy still couldn’t get a clear shot. Then she noticed something about the hand on Frank’s head. It was blackened with poisoned tendrils of infection running from a nasty wound on his knuckles. Her eyes widened as she understood.
“SHOOT!” The scream was a desperate plea as Frank continued to struggle. The man’s strength was giving out. He didn’t have long.
Daisy lined up the shot and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered the back of Frank’s head and exited through his open mouth. The bullet continued into the forehead of the man holding Frank’s head. A small puff of red blew out the back of his head. The bullet had slowed considerably but was still able to do enough damage.
Doc had dropped to the floor at the final shouted word from the man. He could only pray that Daisy’s aim would be true. Hearing the shot, he looked up and surveyed the damage to the two men. They continued to stand, all movement ceased.
Daisy felt tears fall to her cheeks as she continued to watch the two men over the sights of her pistol. She wasn’t sure about the other man, but she knew her aim on Frank, her friend, had been true. The two men stood for a few moments of silence, facing each other. Then Frank crumpled, and they both fell to the ground.
Daisy saw the damage on the face of the man that had saved them. She could only assume that he had suspected that he would have a similar fate to Frank and chose to leave this world as a savior, not a zombie. She looked over to Doc and Maggie on the floor.
“Nice outfit.” Doc smiled at her, then turned to check on Maggie.
Daisy reloaded her pistol before walking over to the two bodies. Once again, Frank was dead. Hopefully, this time it would stick.
“Doc, I need to get to your office and back before this gets worse.”
Doc stood up, cracking his back and dusting himself off. He glanced at the two bodies.
But before he could respond to her, what sounded like a firefight erupted from down the street, toward the hotel. Doc and Daisy looked at each other in surprise. The shooting only went on for a few seconds, but it felt like forever. Daisy ran to the door and looked up and down the street. It was clear - for now.
“It’s clear. I need to go. Now.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? Risk running into more of… them? And the sun going down?” The nearby mountains cut into their daylight, and night-time was dangerous enough, even without a horde of zombies headed their way. Doc motioned to Frank and the other man. “And all that shooting will bring in even more of them.”
“Can Maggie make it without medicine? Can you help anybody else that gets injured?”
Doc gave her a hard look. He knew she was right, but he didn’t like it. Looking back at Maggie, he knew she had to go. He had resisted setting the bone until she had medicine in her system. But he couldn’t risk waiting any longer. He’d have to make do with whiskey. Then he’d administer the needed medicines when Daisy got back.
“Fine. Just be careful.” His voice cracked a little. He was fond of this young woman and had always hoped that she and Eli would find their way together.
“I will, Doc. Once I’m out, make sure this door is secure. I’ll be back.”
Doc walked with her to the door. Daisy opened it and glanced outside. She didn’t see any movement on the street.
“See you soon, Doc.” She moved out into the dwindling sunlight, making her way across the porch and into the street.
Doc watched her for a second then secured the door. Looking back at Maggie, he sighed and headed for the bar.
CHAPTER FIVE
The dust kicked up with each step, another reminder of the dry heat as Eli trudged toward the town of Dire. The sinking sun still had about an hour before it was below the horizon.
Eli was thankful for the ride that the Indian, Takoda, had given him from the canyon. He wished they had gotten a little closer before parting ways. But if he’d had to walk the whole way, it would be closer to tomorrow morning before getting back. As it was, he’d been gone far longer than he expected when he left. And he still had more questions than answers.
Pulling
his pistol as he entered the outskirts of town, Eli came up beside the church, heading for the main street. Slowing, he realized that he’d had an itch bothering him as he approached the town.
He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it until he got closer to the street. Then he realized it wasn’t what he was hearing, but what he wasn’t hearing. People. Horses. The town was dead quiet. Approaching the church, he could see that a light was on inside. If anyone knew what was happening in town, it would be Pastor Steve.
Peering around the corner of the church, Eli looked toward the street. There was nothing. Nobody walking around, no one riding, and only a few lights on here and there. From what he could tell, the saloon and the hotel seemed to have the most lights on.
What he was having the biggest problem with right now was just how quiet the town was. The only answer he was coming up with was that they had been overrun by the same infected, half-dead crazies he had been fighting all day.
The rear door of the church was always locked, but he knew Steve would likely be at the table in the kitchen, drinking some of his horrible coffee. Walking up to the door, he knocked with a light, deliberate rhythm. He wanted to make sure Steve knew it wasn’t a random knock, but he was unwilling to break the silence in town with any loud sounds. After a few moments, a loud whisper came through the door.
“Who’s there?”
“Steve? It’s me, Eli. Let me in, please.”
Eli heard the bolt slide to the side. Then the door opened just enough for a sliver of light to shine on Eli’s face. Once Steve verified Eli’s identity, he opened the door and ushered Eli inside.
“Quick! Come in!”
Eli moved in, and Steve eased the door closed and locked it. Turning, he had a look of relief on his face and arms open like he wanted to give Eli a big hug. Eli stepped back.