Rotten

by Hardy, Victoria S.

  We waited a minute before speaking again, all eyes on Sarah. “Is that it?” Rebekah finally said.

  “For now.” Sarah pulled away from the wall. “We should go with them, Bekah. The monsters are just going to keep coming here.”

  Rebekah sighed and looked us over again. I could tell she was torn between her fear of the zombies and her distrust of us.

  “We’re not going to hurt you,” Rotten said. “And having Sarah’s talent of knowing they are coming could be very helpful to us all.”

  “She may not be able to tell at your place, this is her home, she’s lived here all her life, maybe it just works here.” Rebekah shut the back door.

  “Either way, you’ll both be better off with us, I imagine you don’t get much sleep with just the two of you alone and trying to keep watch.” Princess leaned against the counter.

  “We’ll have to take the animals, we won’t go without the animals.” Rebekah picked up the fat orange tabby that had been trapped behind the opened door. “And we need the chickens for food, we’re getting between six and eight eggs a day.”

  “I’m sick of eggs,” Sarah said. “We’ve been eating nothing but eggs, tomatoes, pickles, and oatmeal for a week.”

  “If you’re running out of food you definitely need to come with us, we have plenty,” I said.

  “Okay.” Rebekah nodded her head, stepped out of the room, and returned with the cat in a crate. “Sarah, go pack your clothes. Y’all are going to have to help me with the chickens, we can put them in that cage you have on the truck.”

  We followed her into the yard and Moonshine backed the truck up to the gate. It took us a while to get the chickens in the cage, but we finally managed it and Moonshine shut the bed of the truck.

  While we had been gathering chickens, Sarah had been piling things around the cat crate by the front door. “I packed your stuff, Bekah, the rest of the food, and all that medicine we took from the Jacob’s house.”

  “What kind of medicine?” Highland picked up a couple gallon sized plastic bags from the pile, inside were pill bottles and papers.

  “Just about everything,” Rebekah said. “I looked them up in the PDR mom found at a thrift store and wrote down what they were used for, Mr. Jacob had cancer, and Mrs. Jacob was a hypochondriac.”

  “Antibiotics?” Highland dropped the bags back in the box where he found them.

  “Yeah, a few different kinds, and lots of pain medicine. I took everything they had because you never know when you might need it. Our parents didn’t take medicine if they could help it so all we had here was an old bottle of aspirin that smelled like vinegar.”

  “I also packed all our art supplies since you’re an artist, Princess.” Sarah smiled.

  “Thank you, Sarah, that was very sweet of you.” Princess grinned and Sarah blushed.

  After we packed up their belongings, including boxes of home school supplies and books, Rebekah and Sarah climbed in the back seat of the Jeep with me. On the drive back they introduced themselves formally. Rebekah and Sarah Connelly were thirteen and six, and they’d lived in the area forever. They were both home schooled and had never attended a public school, and we were warned not to assume that made them weird, dumb, and backwoods snake handling Jesus freaks, they weren’t. “I get so sick of the stereotypes,” Rebekah said and rolled her eyes.

  Their father worked at the dairy and their mom stayed home and took care of everything else. The dairy was on the other side of the pasture that backed up to their yard and that was where all those zombies in the field were coming from, they were their father’s friends and co-workers. “I knew every one of them, most worked with the cows, moving them field to field to graze, and checking the field for bitter weed and other plants that will make the milk taste bad. And every one of them have been over to the house before, today was Mr. Pollard and Suzanne Hampton. Suzanne used to walk over at lunch to have coffee with my mom and we rent the house from Mr. Pollard and he owns the dairy. I don’t know why it took them so long to come, the others came Monday – Jose, George, Miguel, and Skeeter.” Rebekah shook her head. “I don’t know his real name.”

  “Even the tag above his pocket on his work shirt says Skeeter,” Sarah explained.

  “The morning after the earthquake my parents went to town to get groceries, we all felt the earthquake, and Daddy had walked over to the dairy to check on things and said everything was fine. So Saturday morning, like every other Saturday morning they went to town to do some shopping, Mom started calling it her date night because it was the only thing they did alone together.” She smiled. “Anyway they didn’t come back. I called the cell phone a bunch of times, but no one ever answered. Then I couldn’t get a signal out anymore. I wondered if Arlington washed away when the dam broke, but that didn’t make any sense because the dam is down river. Then I saw on the news that they weren’t letting people in or out of town, so I figured that they got caught up in that and would be home soon.

  “There were no cars passing, but around noon on Sunday I saw some people walk by and knew something was wrong. They weren’t people anymore and it was obvious, but right before they passed Sarah got real scared, said there were monsters coming. I got pretty mad at her because I was already scared and worried about our parents. We’d never spent a night alone before, so the last thing I wanted to think about was monsters, but then they passed by and she was right. I got out Daddy’s rifle and the binoculars, and really looked at them and knew they were zombies, I’d seen the movies. Then I got on the Internet and saw the videos of all the attacks everywhere and knew we were in real trouble.

  “We secured the house as well as we could, but then realized we didn’t have a lot of food. We lived paycheck to paycheck, mom grew a garden every year and canned, but mostly just tomatoes and pickles, and we had some chickens. But Saturday was grocery day and that didn’t happen. Anyway, Sarah got that bad feeling again, and a few minutes later a zombie walked by, this time the rooster crowed and caught its attention and it came in the yard.” She paused.

  “She shot it,” Sarah supplied. “And then the feeling got real bad and the Jacob’s came down the road. Mrs. Jacobs came by often to talk to mom about all her diseases and Rebekah had to shoot them, too.”

  “So we spent Sunday night alone again, Sarah had the bad feeling a couple times, but the deadheads just walked by each time. And Monday morning our parents came home. Sarah got the feeling and then I saw them coming, I recognized Daddy’s jacket through the binoculars because we gave it to him last Christmas, other than that they sure didn’t look like themselves.” Rebekah’s eyes filled with tears. “Anyway,” she wiped her cheeks, “the guys from the dairy came that day, too.”

  Mrs. Williams hugged the girls when she met them, and simply said, “Welcome,” and when she smiled I could see the doubt leaving Rebekah’s face. We stood around the truck and looked at the chickens, the best I knew not one of us had ever been around a chicken except for maybe Moonshine. “They need a place to lay and water,” Mrs. Williams said. “We’ll have to use the shed.”

  “Yes, Ma’am, I think if you just leave the door open they’ll go in after dark, at least that’s where they roost at home, but they’ll crap all over the place so I wouldn’t leave anything too valuable in there.” Rebekah stared at the shed and looked far older than thirteen to me, and I knew the change had come in the last days.

  “They eat bugs all day, it’s a little gross, but we can eat bugs, too. It’s not bad for us, I read about it. I can read,” Sarah said, looking from the chickens to the house and back to us.

  “Good to know, Sarah,” Princess said.

  Sarah moved closer to Princess and I smiled when I saw Princess wrap her arm across the girl’s shoulders. It was rare to see Princess with her guard down and strangely enough I’d seen it more in the last days than in all the years I had known her.

  Highland cleared his throat and looked at the girls. “We’re going to have to talk about the roosters. Today they cro
wed before the zombies, the deadheads, came and Rebekah, you said that at least once a deadhead came into the yard because a rooster crowed.” He smiled nervously at the redhead, clearly uncomfortable.

  “Yes, I know. I’ve been thinking about killing them, but I was hoping one of the hens would get broody,” she explained.

  “What is broody? I know nothing about chickens.” Princess looked down at Sarah.

  “It means she wants to sit on her eggs and make babies,” Sarah explained.

  “We’ll need more chickens and if we kill the roosters that’s not going to happen,” Rebekah said. “We used to have a chicken dinner at least once a month, usually when money was short. I’ve never done it myself, but Daddy made us both watch him do it because he said it was important that we know how to take care of ourselves. We helped mom pluck the feathers, too.”

  Sarah nodded and turned up her nose. “It’s stinky work.”

  “Let’s get the shed cleaned out, the chickens watered, and get the girls settled and fed before we make any decisions to cook the roosters,” Mrs. Williams decided. “They are going to need a bed so I was thinking we could take one from one of the cabins around here.”

  “No, problem.” Highland opened the back of the Jeep and we got to work.

  When Moonshine and Rotten returned with the bed, they also brought along some additional chairs to go around the table, and by the time we sat down at dinner, a bed had been set up into the loft, the chickens were locked up in the shed, and the girls were fitting in as though they had always been a part of our family. And then Rebekah told the group her story, concluding with the fact that she believed the deadheads still remembered part of their lives.

  “We noticed that in the city,” Rotten said. “How many have you noticed passing your house?”

  “A few everyday, going one way or another. Yesterday there was just one and we went to the Jacob’s house.”

  “We went like five times,” Sarah said. “We didn’t have a truck because Daddy took it to town.”

  “It was three times,” Rebekah corrected.

  “Felt like five,” Sarah sighed.

  We then filled in the rest of the group on our experience at the roadblock, and abbreviated the part with the partial torso for the child’s sake.

  “If it was a silver BMW then that was probably Bryson Capps, his dad owns the tire plant on the other side of town, Daddy said he thought it blew up after the earthquake. Daddy said Bryson was an a-hole.” Rebekah glanced at her little sister.

  “Daddy said asshole,” Sarah corrected and yawned.

  “But we’re not supposed to say that, it’s an adult word.”

  “We saw the explosion when we were on the river and wondered what it was,” Rotten said.

  Sarah yawned again and Mrs. Williams suggested we all get some sleep. Sarah asked Princess to stay with them until they were asleep and she followed the girls into the loft. While Will stood watch in the main room, the rest of us went downstairs, and gathered around the radio. It had become our nightly ritual to sift through the bands each night to see if anyone was broadcasting. Jason Adams always came in loud and clear, but a couple times we had heard others. Once from Minnesota and once from New York and each of them were hunkered down like we were, raiding houses for supplies, and trying to stay alive and both had doubts with trusting Jason Adams and his new town of Bliss.

  After scanning the bands Rotten turned it back to the man from Texas as he was happily announcing the arrival of four more families in the community and the completion of the third house. “These houses are not your typical three-bedroom, two-bath ranch, of course, but each house gives some privacy and a sense of family that is sorely missing these days. Has been missing for a long time. Now, I know I have my detractors, I hear them on the radio just as you do and when you are following the Lord’s word you will be hated, I know this, and I accept this. My only fear is that my enemies will lure some good wholesome people away from safety.” We listened for a bit longer as the man described what they had for dinner, the garden plots being prepared for spring, and how the community would increase in the summer as one of the new members was expecting.

  “That guy,” Sully shook his head, “I just don’t trust him. He’s too polished, too greasy, and I don’t mean his appearance.”

  “I’ve always gotten that feeling myself, but you know people are sheep, they seemed compelled to follow whoever steps up as a leader. But we should start looking for a place to put a garden.” Rotten looked at Moonshine. “You know about gardening and stuff, don’t you?”

  “I’ve hoed more rows than I want to talk about, but we need seed and we’ll have to fence it off so the rabbits and deer don’t eat everything. And we’ll probably have to cut down some trees, this place is too shady and gardens need sun. Or maybe we could use that field by the driveway.”

  “Well, we’ll add seed to the list of things to pick up in Arlington.” Highland yawned. “Who’s taking watch after Will?”

  “I got it.” Moonshine pulled a flashlight from his pocket and headed to the stairs. “Night, y’all.”

  Day Eight

  Thursday

  December 18, 2014

  I awoke, suddenly alert, and looked around the big master bedroom trying to figure out what disturbed my sleep. I was a little irritated because I was dreaming that I was at home in my apartment eating ice cream and my biggest concern was a term paper. I glanced over at Rotten sleeping on the other side of the king sized bed and snoring softly, and pinned the blame on him. I flipped on my stomach and heard Rebekah calling down from the loft.

  “Whoever’s on watch, Sarah said there’s a deadhead coming!”

  I shoved Rotten and jumped out of bed. “Get up.” I met Rebekah as she came down the stairs.

  “She said over there.” She pointed to the river.

  Moonshine was on his feet, gun in hand, and then Will sprang up from the reclining chair he’d taken to sleeping in every night. “The floodlights!”

  Will leapt down the stairs and flipped the switch to the power in seconds. The front of the cabin lit up and the trees left sharply defined shadows in the yard. Moonshine stepped onto the deck, and I followed. Princess stood in the doorway, her arm around Sarah, and Rotten slid past them with a high-powered flashlight in his hands. Rotten scanned the dark spots behind the trees as well as he could and then moved the light out further into the band of growth separating the yard from the river. Highland, Will, and Sully stepped onto the deck carrying rifles and Mrs. Williams stood with her arms around both Princess and Sarah.

  We waited, a minute passed, and we were beginning to think that Sarah was wrong, and then we heard the tinkle of one of the fishing bells. Rotten shined the light on the trail leading to the water and we heard a crash of pots and pans slapping together. “It’s tangled in the line,” Rotten whispered.

  Sully stepped up to the railing beside Moonshine and raised his rifle, focusing on the opening of the trail. A figure appeared, bloated and bright white in the spotlight, with muck and water running down its bare rotting legs. It had lost its pants somewhere along the journey, but still wore a suit jacket over a collared shirt. It moved toward the cabin in the obvious gait of the undead and Sully fired, knocking it to the ground in an explosion of moist gray tissue.

  “I’m pretty sure that was Grady.” Will pulled the binoculars away from his eyes. “That jacket looks like the one they wore at the car lot.”

  We turned to look at Sarah and she yawned. “That’s it.”

  “We’ll have to find a way to deal with the body in the morning,” Sully said, and we returned to the house and went back to bed, almost like we were getting used to our new lives as zombie killers.

  The next morning we stood around the body of Grady Goodall, well everyone except Sarah and Rebekah who were gathering the eggs from the shed, and decided he had been in the water a very long time. “Could he have swam up the river from Arlington?” I said, turning away from the swollen white skin p
ocked with deep black holes of putrefaction.

  “He used to boat down to the dam and fish, so he knows this river,” Will said. “We should bury him.”

  “Let’s talk about that.” Sully sipped coffee from a travel mug. “We should protect ourselves, gloves, masks, long sleeves, the whole deal. We don’t know how this spreads anymore, although we can assume Grady was part of the original group, and we don’t want to take any chances.”

  “We should roll him up in a tarp or something, that should keep most of the mess off of us. There’s a stack of them in the shed.” Highland decided.

  We dug a grave in a small field set along the driveway where the roots of the trees weren’t as thick. “So much for planting a garden here,” Moonshine said, and then he, Rotten, Highland, and Will donned burial suits made out of a cut up t-shirt for masks, sun glasses for goggles, and gloves duct taped to long sleeves. We made sure they had no skin exposed and stood back as they rolled Grady into a large well-used tarp. They tied the ends of it tightly and then set his body onto a modified boat trailer attached to the back of the truck and towed him to the field.