Odium (The Dead Saga.)

by Riley, Claire C

  “Okay, so where are those?” Crunch asks. I can see she feels the same as me, and is trying to contain her anger with Duncan. At least for the moment anyway. It must be harder on them; they have all known him for a long time. They’re his friends, but I don’t think things will ever be the same between them all again. Or maybe they will. The past is the past, right? And we’ve all done things we are ashamed of.

  “We need to get back to the canteen and turn right. The women’s are at the bottom of the corridor to the right. The men’s are just past the gym.” Duncan lets everyone pass him before following behind. I turn around and look at him, and consider going to walk by his side. Don’t get me wrong, I think the guy’s a douche and all, but there’s enough guilt and pain in this world already, and I have a feeling that there’s going to be a lot more to come before our time is up.

  His eyes are on his feet, and his hands are deep in his pockets and not on his weapons. He looks pale and haunted as he takes a deep shaky breath and closes his eyes. I flinch as one of the doors to his left swings open and a zombie crashes out into the hallway.

  It dives for Duncan, and before he can pull his hands from his pockets and reach for his guns to shoot it, it starts to bite into the side of his face. I stare in horror as its dirty hands clasp his skull tightly. It bites down and pulls back, its teeth clinging onto the flesh from Duncan’s cheek in its mouth. Duncan screams and hits out at it, and I stand frozen to the spot, unable to do anything but watch as the situation unfolds.

  Mikey pushes past me, sending me crashing into a wall as he raises up his machete and brings it down in one swift movement to decapitate the zombie.

  Duncan drops to his knees with one hand clutching his face, and trying to stem the flow of blood that’s pumping from the wound. He’s sobbing and moaning, tears, snot, and blood streaming down his face.

  My only thought? If I would have walked just a little bit slower, that would have been me.

  Twenty-Two.

  Mikey helps Duncan up and simultaneously shouts for Crunch to bring the first aid kit. She obliges, dragging out various bandages and creams from the little bag on her back as we all run. We head down the corridor until we reach the canteen and JD drags a couple of chairs away from a table and helps Mikey get Duncan up on it.

  They pull Duncan’s hand away from his wound and Crunch squirts some liquid into and over the wound without hesitation, bringing about another long, painful scream from Duncan. He thrashes and fights to put his hands to his face, but Mikey and JD stop him.

  Crunch leans over further and inspects the hole in his cheek. Reaching for some tweezers, she digs into it and retrieves a tooth, and then squirts the liquid into the hole again, being careful not to get any of it into his eyes.

  “Nina, get over here, I need your help.” Crunch doesn’t bother to look at me, but continues to dig through her bag.

  I make my way from the doorway to the group in small steps. I have no idea how we change into zombies. What if it’s through a bite and he’s going to change at any moment? I don’t want to be near him.

  “I mean it; get your ass over here, now!” She finally looks up at me, her nostrils flaring at my slowness. There must be something in my look that makes her calm down though. “It’s okay, we just need to stop the bleeding and clean the cut. He’ll be fine.” She stands and looks at me, and I nod and make my way to her, still wary.

  “I need you to squirt some more saline into the cut while I prepare some sterile gauze for it. I can’t suture it until it stops bleeding, or at least slows.”

  I pause with a shaky hand on the bottle. “Will this save him?”

  “Maybe,” she shrugs. “It’ll clear the wound of any surface pathogens and debris, and hopefully…” she pauses and takes a deep breath, “and hopefully save him, but I’m not promising shit. This is basically just a cleaner for the wound; I’d need a lot more equipment to go making promises.”

  I do as she asks, and when Duncan starts to scream again, JD Looks at Crunch and she nods. Before I can ask what the look was all about, JD punches Duncan hard and knocks him out cold.

  Crunch leans over, pressing hard onto his face with some gauze. My jaw hangs low as I look from her to JD.

  “The more he panics, the harder it is to stop the bleeding,” she replies casually.

  I nod and look away, a shiver running down my spine. Mikey runs over to one of the doors and starts barricading it so that nothing can follow us in, and JD moves to the door at the back of the room and does the same thing.

  “Nina, I need you to hold this in place.”

  I reach over with shaky hands, trading places with her and holding the gauze against his sticky skin. “Okay.”

  “Press harder,” she snaps.

  I nod. Crunch tips her bag out and rummages through all the bits and pieces for something—a needle and a strange-looking thread, by the looks of it. I look down at Duncan. His eyes are rolled back into his head, and his breathing is shallow. The blood has stopped pumping from between my fingers now, and Mikey uses his sleeve to wipe some of it away from Duncan’s eyes and nose.

  Crunch stands by my side with the needle and thread in hand. “Okay, lift it up and let me see.”

  I lift up the gauze, which sticks to him a little as I pull it up. It breaks free, releasing a small spurt of fresh blood, but it stops after a second or two and then just oozes. The bite is deep, but thankfully not as bad as I first thought. It seems to be just surface skin and not the deeper flesh; however, it does look swollen and unhealthy. The sight makes me feel queasy again and I’m glad I don’t have to look at it anymore, however mean that may seem. I hold the gauze in place while Crunch tapes it. Crunch puts her fingers to Duncan’s wrist and does some weird counting thing with her eyes closed before placing his arm back down next to him.

  “Well?” JD asks.

  She looks worried, but shrugs in her nonchalant way and lowers the needle and thread. “He should be fine as long as an infection doesn’t set in. I’ve cleaned it the best I could, and I’m going to stick a couple of sutures in it since the deader took a lot of flesh.” Crunch readies her needle while she talks, and I turn away. “We need to find a lot more antiseptic cream, gauze, painkillers. We’re going to need to go back to the medic’s room again.”

  “Okay, I’ll go get the medical supplies. Crunch, see what you can do for Duncan. Mikey, you and Nina stay here. Try and see what’s left here—and be on your guard, we haven’t cleared this room yet.” JD storms off to the door without another word. Crunch quickly zips up her bag and follows after him with her weapons in hand.

  I look at Duncan on the table. His breathing is shallow, his skin sweaty. I still don’t want to get too near him, so I walk away, heading for the kitchens, carrying my small machete.

  Mikey catches up to me. Neither of us talk as we clear the room, and then the kitchen area, checking under tables and behind doors for any lurkers. Zombies aren’t known for their sneaking, though, so I think we’re good for now. Other than a few bloody bones and old blood patches, there are no live deaders—huh, that sounds weird.

  I check the pantry, and even when I see it half full of food, I can’t smile. I had come so close to death, or at the very least serious injury, that I feel a bit shocked. And poor Duncan. Shit, what if he dies? I pause in my search, lean against one of the boxes of cans, and take a breath or two to calm myself down. Mikey comes into the pantry and looks at me.

  “You okay?”

  I nod my head yes, and rub a hand across my sweaty forehead. Why this incident scared me so much, I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t been nearly killed by these things before; I’ve been fighting them all day. But I guess the truth of the matter is that I felt safe around this group, and it all came as such a fucking shock to the system. One minute we seemed badass and unstoppable, and the next a deader was taking an afternoon snack from Duncan’s face.

  “I’m fine.” I take a steadying breath.

  “Crazy shit, huh?�
�� Mikey turns back around and examines the food and water on the shelves.

  “Crazy is one way to put it.” I start checking the boxes by my feet, wanting the distraction. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

  “I guess so. I mean, I hope so. He’s kept us all alive the past year or so, and he’s a nice guy, you know?” Mikey opens up a box of cereal bars, tearing one open and shoving it in his mouth greedily.

  “Yeah, I guess.” I catch the bar he throws me. “It was kind of a dick move locking everyone in here, though, don’t you think?”

  Mikey shrugs. “Yeah, but then—we all make mistakes. I mean, no one’s perfect.”

  “But his mistake cost a lot of people their lives.” I rip open my wrapper and take a big bite. It tastes like shit, but it’s food.

  Mikey stares at me for a long minute before replying. “So, even if someone tried to make up for their mistakes, you saying they don’t deserve a second chance?” He scrunches up his wrapper and throws it to the floor, looking pissed off.

  “That’s not what I was saying at all, it’s just that...” I huff. “He condemned everyone in here to die. He fucking locked the door on them.”

  “Who says they weren’t condemned anyway? Who says we’re all not condemned?”

  “Whatever, Mikey, I’m not in the mood to argue with you today.” I have no idea what crawled up his ass, but I’m too tired and worried to fight him. There are other things way more important going on.

  “I’m just saying that he made a mistake, a mistake that he feels guilty enough for. The last thing that he needs is everyone hating on him. He’s spent the last couple of years trying to make up for what he did.”

  I jump when I feel Mikey close behind me, and when I turn and am met with his angry glare, I’m even more confused.

  I scowl at him. “How has he tried to make it up? He spent the last however long trying to keep you all away from this place, away from putting these poor people out of their misery!”

  “You don’t fucking know him enough to comment on this shit, Nina.”

  “No, and clearly I don’t fucking know you either.”

  “Clearly!” His jaw grinds.

  We stand there staring at each other, both of us waiting for the other to say something else. Anger burns within me. I know—I fucking know—he gets where I’m coming from, so why he’s acting so self-righteous all of a sudden, I don’t know.

  “Mikey? Nina?” Crunch’s voice sounds out from in the kitchen.

  I push away from the shelf behind me and walk past Mikey. His hand brushes my waist, making me turn and stare. I shrug away from him with another angry glare.

  “We’re here,” I say coming out of the pantry and passing Crunch.

  She eyes me icily, her eyes straying behind me as Mikey emerges from the pantry too.

  “Find anything interesting?” she spits out.

  “Crunch,” Mikey warns, but I don’t stick around to see what else they say.

  JD is sorting through some supplies on a table next to where Duncan is. Duncan has finally woken and is now sitting up. He offers me a small grimace as I come over.

  “How you doing?” I ask.

  “It hurts like a bitch, but I’ll live,” he smiles. “I will live, won’t I, JD?” He turns to look at JD, who’s shaking out two painkillers into his hand.

  “Yes. Crunch seems to think so. We just need to keep it dressed and clean, and hope that it doesn’t get infected.” He hands Duncan the tablets and a small flask to drink from. “If it gets infected, then…”

  Duncan throws the tablets in his mouth and takes a swig from the flask, gasping as he swallows. He looks at the flask and then at JD with a crooked, bloody half-grin.

  “Found your stash on the way back, my friend. Thought you could use it right about now.”

  “Didn’t even notice what you gave me.” Duncan places his hand on JD’s shoulder and attempts to smile again, taking another long swig with the other. “Thank you, that softens the blow, I guess.”

  JD looks away with a shake of his his head. We have all noticed that his bandages have started to soak through with blood again.

  “I’m a goner if this gets infected, right?” Duncan screws the lid back on his flask. “Yeah, that’s it.” He lies back down and closes his eyes.

  JD looks behind me as Crunch storms out of the kitchen area, Mikey close behind.

  I turn to look. “We found the walk-in pantry. It’s pretty much full. There’s more than enough food to keep us going for…well, quite a long time.” I shrug.

  “What’s the plan then?” Mikey asks. He doesn’t look at me, and that just opens up a whole new bag of weird emotions.

  “How are you feeling, Duncan? Do you feel well enough to continue? Or do you want us to head back to camp? We can come back another day and finish this off.” JD seems to have a lot of respect for Duncan. I hadn’t noticed that until now.

  “We’ve come this far, we should finish it,” Duncan replies coldly. “Just give me half an hour for the painkillers to kick in first.”

  I look outside and see that the sun is beginning to dip. “We won’t make it back before nightfall, even if we set off now. That means spending the night here.” Everyone follows my gaze, and I guess we all come to the same conclusion. “We could continue tomorrow,” I suggest.

  JD nods once in agreement. “Mikey, you and I need to find something better than just a couple of tables to jam the doors. We can all eat and sleep without worrying about any of them coming in and catching us unaware. Tomorrow we finish this.” He looks at us all, one by one. “We finish them all.”

  We all nod and set about our tasks. “I’ll go scrounge up something we can have to eat,” I say as I make my way to the kitchen.

  “I’ll help,” Crunch replies coldly, and follows close behind.

  “I guess I’ll just sit here on my own then,” Duncan retorts through gritted teeth.

  “You do that,” both Crunch and I reply at the same time.

  Twenty-Three.

  I’m on edge as we raid the pantry for any sort of meal, waiting for Crunch to say something shitty to me like normal. Or maybe I’m on edge because we’re stuck in a building with a bunch of deaders.

  I know the pantries are well stocked with cereal bars and energy drinks, but upon further inspection, there are also dried grains, pastas, and rice, which all seems to have lasted fairly well. There are also cans of beans and cold meats, all of which we can use. Somehow, we have to get this all back to our little tree house; it’s going to be a pain in the ass, but it will be worth it. I’m getting used to living in the safety of the trees. With the right tools, more harnesses, and some extra weapons, we could make it even better; and this food will help secure our future for the next couple of months.

  Months? Jesus, life is short these days.

  We find a couple of boxes of ration packs in the walk-in pantry and take them to the group. Sure, a hot meal would go down nicely, but until the place is completely cleared of deaders, it’s best to keep things as simple and as quiet as possible. We eat them cold and straight from the package, squeezing the liquidy mush directly into our mouths—which is disgusting, but it’s food, and my stomach is grateful even if my taste buds aren’t.

  The meat and potato stew I have settles well in my stomach, and combined with the freeze-dried coffee (that JD insists we actually can take the risk to heat up without making too much noise), my body is in sensation overload, being so full of food and caffeine. Bliss. I guess it’s the little things these days that really make life worth living.

  Duncan’s bandages have soaked through quite badly, and he seems unsettled with the pain no matter how tough he’s pretending to be. What did we expect, though? A zombie took a chunk out of his face; that’s bound to stress anybody out. Crunch works on suturing his face together the best she can, but if I’m honest, the job is ugly and will leave a terrible scar. Still, I guess if he lives, that’s better than nothing. I have avoided being in close proximity t
o him for the last hour or so, so when he takes some more painkillers and goes to lie down in the corner of the room for a nap, I take the opportunity to voice my concerns.

  “So is anyone going to talk about the elephant in the room, or are we just going to let him pick us off unexpectedly tonight, chowing down on our brains while we sleep?” I throw my empty ration pack onto the table in front of me and reach for another of the silver-foiled delights from the box by my feet.

  “He’ll be fine,” Crunch replies without fully acknowledging my comment or me.

  “How do we know that the virus or mutation or whatever causes people to turn into zombies isn’t passed by saliva or bites and things? I mean, that’s how it’s done in all the movies.”

  “We don’t know for certain, but we think that it is just death itself that causes people to…you know…want to eat brains and shit.” Mikey is biting his nails again and I shudder. He has somehow washed his hands free of blood and grime from their earlier battles, but the thought of any of the zombie stuff getting into my mouth makes me nauseous.

  “Will you get your hands out of your mouth, Mikey? For God’s sake, they have all sorts of…well, you know, zombie germs all over them.” I put my second pack of food down, suddenly not feeling hungry.

  “I told you, it doesn’t seem to be passed that way.”

  “I don’t care. It could mutate, it could be slow-developing. And besides that, it’s disgusting, so stop it,” I huff.

  He finally removes his hands from his mouth and leans back in his chair with a raised eyebrow. “Better?”

  “Not really,” I reply. “So? What are we going to do?”

  “We told you: it will be fine. He will be fine. You just have to trust us on this, Nina.”

  “But…”

  “Oh will you stop your whining?” Crunch snaps. “Seriously, Nina. Go back to camp if you’re so worried about him. Because we are not leaving him behind.”