by David Smith
We ran all the way to the top floor with them coming right behind us. The third floor wasn’t much different than it is now, one way up and one way out onto the terrace. “We can control the point of entry here.” He said and turned around and started hacking and stabbing with both hands. The man fought like a cornered dog, kicking them back down the stairs when he had to, throwing one my way when they came up too fast and I’d shoot them in the head and throw them over the banister to the floor, three stories down.
They were so packed in down there, the ones I threw over never even hit the ground. It’s the closest I can imagine to what Hell might be like; just a tangled grey mass of dead and rotting flesh, writhing with hundreds of arms reaching up and grasping for salvation that it’s too late to find. It wasn’t long before the staircase was so full of bodies that no more could get past. But they kept trying, climbing over and scratching at the ceiling, underneath the third floor, many of then falling over the sides and landing back into the crowd below like popcorn overflowing a kettle.
So we went the only place we could go, out on the terrace that’s now the guard walk, to try to find a way back down. What we found instead, was the family that lived here; a Momma, a Daddy, three kids, two of them teenagers, and all four of the grandparents. They had fought them off for three days before retreating up onto the roof. They were just sitting there, crying, every last one of them, saying their final goodbyes. Needless to say, they were happy to see us and more than happy to do anything Jennings said, for a little while, anyways. That man is a coward and was just as scared as any of us but, he at least had an idea of what to do other than, 'let’s just sit here and die'. So, we listened to him.
We got to work the next morning killing and cleaning out this place. It was hard the first few days. One of the older men, I think his name was Jonathan, had a bad case of arthritis and without his medication, by the time we had everything cleaned up, was almost crippled. We lost one of the teenagers, the little boy, and one of the grandmothers by the time we had the house cleared and boarded back up.
The first year was even harder. There were high fences around the place, never seen anything like it. This guy had horses and cows like everybody else around here but he also had a few buffalo, emus and ostriches, llamas, even a damn giraffe. You believe that? A damn giraffe in Mississippi? It took some convincing from Jennings but that giraffe wasn’t bad eating. Yeah, we ate everything on the farm that first year, with the help of other survivors of course.
One of the first things we did once everything was boarded up, was go down to the local AM radio station and put on a recording of Jennings giving our location to anybody who might be listening. That place was a mess. It was a secure building, albeit small. The previous employees had locked themselves in, in hopes of waiting it out to be rescued. Eventually they starved to death though, all but one, who had eaten some of the other two. He was out of his mind when we got there; begging us to eat some of his friends with him, dried blood all over his face, so Jennings put him out of his misery, one shot right to the head. That’s what caused the first of many fights between Jennings and myself. That man wasn’t dead or even bit. He was just a little crazy and who could blame him? In time, I think he could’ve been okay.
But, like I was saying, the fences were high but they were barbed wire and the dead got in pretty easy so we spent the first three months with me and Matt, that was the Dad, rolling out the chain-link while the rest of them, what was left of his family and whoever might be passing through or coming to stay, kept the dead beat back. By the time we had the fence remodeled, I barely had enough time to plant that first year’s crop but I got it in not long after we ate that giraffe.
Toward the end of that first year, right about the time it started really getting hot again, a big herd came from the south out of Louisiana and knocked down a big section of fence. They killed four or five of the people who had come during that year with one particularly strong group. They had been staying outside in tents because Jennings said he didn’t trust them. Our fearless leader never came out of his room. He had heard the commotion and went out on the roof and saw what was going on and called to those of us who were staying in the house to come upstairs.
They came in so fast that we barely had time to get up the stairs before they were beating down the doors. When we got up there, we realized that Matt's parents weren’t with us. After some argument with Jennings, me and Matt took some of the guns he had taken from the new guys when they arrived a few days earlier and went to look for them. We had just started searching the house when Matt saw them from a second story window. The group of outsiders were circled around them, protecting them from the herd. They were fighting them off with sticks and knives and losing pretty quick. We rushed downstairs, threw open the doors and started shooting our way through the crowd to help them. We cleared out a path, that was quickly closing in behind us, and handed what few of the guns we could carry over to what was left of the group.
With their help, we blasted our way back to the house and inside. Some of the dead were already heading up the stairs and we took them down from behind, with more coming up behind us. We lost two or three more of the new guys on the way up, those who didn’t have guns.
By the time we got to the third floor, we were all out of bullets and they were still coming. Then came Jennings to the rescue again; came out shooting. We all got past him and into the room just as the last few dead were put down, but the grandmother had been scratched on the back of the neck, pretty bad, deep. She was crying, loud, and this made Jennings lose it. He raised his gun to kill her when he saw the scratch and Matt’s dad pointed a pistol in his face, his gnarled fingers wrapped around the trigger, hands shaking and weak.
"She’s gonna turn.” Jennings said.
"It’s just a scratch.” The old man said back to him.
"It doesn’t matter, she’ll still turn. I’ve seen it happen.”
"If she does, I’ll take care of her myself but you don’t touch her. You shoot her and I'll kill you where you stand."
Jennings turned the gun on the old man. "Can you even squeeze that trigger?" He asked.
"I can.” Matt said and pointed his gun at him and Jennings looked at him with a hate that I’ve seen many times since then. So mad, looked like he was gonna burst into flames.
"We’ll lock them in a room and leave a guard at the door, listening." I suggested. "Just don’t do it this way, please.” He looked at the faces around the room then agreed, I think only because he knew he’d lose the trust of the group if he did it his way.
We locked them both in a room on the second floor while the rest of us set to mending the fence. Jennings insisted on staying outside the room himself even though Matt disagreed. It wasn’t till the next night, after dark, we heard a shot echo through the house and we all went to see. Just before we got there we heard another and there was Jennings with the smoking gun standing over their bodies.
"She turned and bit him. I had to do it.” He said as cold as ice. "I'm sorry, Matt."
That’s the only time I’ve ever seen Jennings even fake being apologetic. He knew he was losing control of the group and played right along to get everybody’s sympathy. ‘I’m the only one taking charge here and it’s hard. I’ve made a few mistakes but which one of you wouldn’t have done even worse in my position?’ kind of thing. Everybody played right into his hands but me, Matt and his wife.
Those new members we had with us were good people. I knew that by the way they protected the old folks, but they hadn’t known Jennings as long as we had and didn't see how he tried to leave them for dead, so they were suckered right in. They became the first of this little army he’s got here. There were only four of them left so he put two at a time up on the roof for lookouts, around the clock.
Matt met his end the following year. I think he had gotten fed up with not being the king in his own castle but by that time, Jennings had his own small army of followers. There were nine of them at t
he time, all ex-military and all loyal. There were about twenty others living here otherwise; men, women, children.
MacAdory told me one time that one of the military's things is selfless service. I don't know if these guys were brainwashed by Jennings or if it was just because of they way they had been treated by their Commander in Chief over the previous years, but they all had a chip on their shoulder. That was the way it was with the whole world those last few years though. People forgot what it was to do for somebody else without expecting something in return. So that's how it was here. They provided protection for us and we provided them with everything else. It's hard to see at first, but that's still the way it is. He tells you, 'You don't need a gun, We've got you covered.' when what he means is, 'You are not allowed a gun. We've got you covered.'
Anyway, when Matt's daughters reached about 17 and 15, his goons started to take notice. Matt told me one night that he feared for his life, and theirs. Jennings had given him some speech about burying the hatchet between the two of them. Matt agreed it would be for the best, that was until Jennings started the next part of his little pep talk. He said, now, that everything was safe and they had food and all the basics covered, they needed to start living like normal people. I think he said something like, it would give everyone hope that things could get back to normal and life could be more than just the survival if there was the pitter patter of little feet in the house. Matt agreed at first and said he would have no problem with letting his daughters date some of the young boys in our little community. Jennings had other things in mind. He said that his men should have the honor. He's a sly devil, tried to tell Matt that if they fathered the children in the community, they would have a greater sense of responsibility and protectiveness toward them.
Matt didn't go for it for a second. He told Jennings just what he thought of him and said he was taking his family and leaving. The next morning, Jennings apologized but asked him to go out with the recon team.
"Give them a chance, get to know them. They really are some good men. If you still want to leave after that, at least it'll give you a chance to scout some other places without having to worry about their safety while you do it."
Matt went and never came back. Both of his daughters were pregnant within the next six months and his wife, within a year. She killed herself though, before she could have the baby.
A few other groups of survivors showed up over the next two or three years. Amber was with one of those. They came out of the woods in a sprint, so fast they almost ran into the fence before they realized it was there. They were all messed up, some of them bit, some of them shot and all of them hysterical, all but her. MacAdory was with them too. He was an Army Ranger and their involuntary leader but by the time they got here, he was more than happy to let somebody else take over.
They were fighting off a herd with nothing but their hands and loosing quick. Amber was the only one with the sense left to call out for help. Jennings came running out with all of his guards and opened the gate, no questions asked. They pulled in the ten or eleven that were still standing, separating the living from the dying once they got the gate closed. Amber fell at his feet, thanking him. He bent down, like to help her up then just handed her off to one of the guards before pulling his pistol and executing three that were obviously bitten. He then turned and walked right past her, back towards the house. He said, “Sorry” as he walked past her, never even looked her in the eye, the cold son of a bitch.
I was in love with her the moment I saw her and walked right up and held her. I had never in my life been so bold but there was something about her. She was so scared and vulnerable but you could just see the courage in her. Maybe it was the way she led her group in the face of death like that or the way she shook off his insincere apology. She had certainly made an impression on him though. He had never let anyone into the compound so quickly and hasn’t since. And maybe that was why he turned on them so quickly. There were five women and four men who made it through the night. Two weeks later, two of the women were dead and all the men except MacAdory.
By that time we had grown into close friends and I had fallen even deeper for her. She was so strong and so gentle. Only the strongest person could afford to be so gentle in a world like this. In a week, every person in the compound loved her. Before she came, we were just a bunch of random strangers, working together but still fighting each other to survive. She had this way about her, I can’t even explain it, but she brought everybody together, made us all a community, a family, taught us all how to care about each other.
Despite everybody’s differences and flaws, she found the good in everyone here and had a way of bringing it out so others could see it too. The only person I ever heard her have a cruel word for was Jennings. There were a lot of people here that I didn’t like or get along with, him being one of them, but she liked everybody.
One night while we were laying here in our room, she told me that he had no good in him, that the only reason he took care of anybody was so he could manipulate and exploit them, so he could use them to protect himself. It broke my heart to hear her talk that way about somebody, even though I agreed with her. When she talked about him, that thing about her that made her so beautiful, that love she had for all people, that light that made everything around just seem okay, wasn’t there.
He must’ve known she was against him somehow because a week later, he made a play for her, just like he did the rest. He came to me this time though. He told me that she was really something special and that I, being much older than her, should consider letting her go. He said she needed someone who was a fighter and could protect her when worse came to worse. Told me I was a good man but that I wasn’t strong enough, tough enough to keep her safe, that I didn’t have that killer instinct and, of course, that he did.
I guess he didn’t realize that by this time I had him figured out. I told him, "If you don't think I'm tough enough to keep her, you just try to take her...see what a killer I can be." He backed off in his usual way.
"Hey, there’s no need for that kind of talk. I know how deeply you care about her. I’m just looking out for her best interest."
I’m telling you, don’t ever believe a word he says, he’s the best bullshitter you’ll ever meet.
Two days later I found myself on recon for the first time, going outside the fence to scavenge supplies. Me and one of the regulars got separated from the rest by a herd and next thing I knew, I turned around and he had his pistol in my face. Knee jerk reaction, I ducked just as he pulled the trigger and he missed. I tripped over a stump, dropped my shotgun and he aimed at me again. I just froze but just when he went to pull the trigger one if those things grabbed him and he missed again. I reached for the shotgun but even though he was fighting with that thing, he saw me and stepped on it. There were more of them coming so I just took off running.
He managed to get away from them somehow though and I heard him calling me. "You just gonna run away? You gonna leave that girl for the Captain, not even put up a fight?"
He was right. I had to do something so I took off running from behind a tree and he shot and missed again. I ran till I came out onto a dirt road then took a left, hoping to find some place to circle back. Instead, I found a pile of junk at a dead end. There were old beer bottles, a washing machine, old oil filters. I picked up one of the oil filters and took off into the woods again, looking behind me to make sure he didn't see which way I went. I saw him come out of the woods and look at my footsteps in the dry, sandy dirt. He walked down to the pile of junk and the bastard had the gall to stop and relieve himself.
"Whether I find you or not, you're gonna die out here. Might as well let me make it easy for you."
I was about twenty yards into the woods and when he looked down I chucked that oil filter hard as I could, almost perfect spiral and touchdown. Caught him right in the temple and knocked him out cold. All that hollering he was doing, I looked up and three of them things were coming out of the woods
. I waited and made sure they were going to eat him then took off.
God saved me that day and with those dead SOBs none the less. Just goes to show you, God can use anything for his purpose.
Nobody questioned it, they just scavenged his body for whatever would be useful and we went on about our business. The rest of the day I was like one of the guys and that was when I realized none of them knew about the Captain's plan. I worked it all out in my head. He would pick one man on the special team to be his assassin. The rest were oblivious, plausible deniability, out there just to gather supplies like they were told. But that one guy, and there’s always one, is out there to kill whoever Jennings needs out of the way.
Well, I guess you've noticed I've got a son. That's where the story gets bad.
He lit another cigarette.
I told Amber about it that night, what had happened in the woods and what Jennings had asked me. She knew that he wouldn't stop till I was dead. It was just a matter of time before he found a replacement for his killer. So, we went to him together and made him a deal. I can hardly say, I just try not to think about it most of the time. She promised him that if he would let me live, she would go to him once a month and...
Chapter 12: Comfort Girl Interrupted
I had heard enough and hearing it made me feel that much stronger that with every passing moment, the possibility of saving her from the path she was going down was slipping further away. I started for the door.
"Where you going?" He asked.
"I've got to go after her."
"Have you not heard anything I've said?" He said, standing to confront me.
"I understand what you're trying to do and I appreciate it. But I can't just walk away without trying. I can't stand by and let her do this to herself."