Will To Live

by C. M. Wright

  One of the damn undead is half inside the truck when I see a flash of light and a bang come from the vehicle. I'm confused, until I recall the weapons that are stored inside. Bo must have remembered them and is now using one of the guns. The zombie that was almost completely inside the truck with him stopped moving, so I can only hope he got that one for sure. Will is just making his way to this side of the truck, where the undead are a hell of a lot thinner, when a runner comes racing straight toward him. The undead's mouth stretches wide, anticipating the opportunity to sink into Will's flesh, when I scream out a warning to Will. I watch as he turns with just enough time to raise the gun level with the head of the undead...but when he pulls the trigger, the gun clicks instead of releasing a bullet.

  Immediately, Will slams the solid metal of the gun into the thing's mouth, its teeth becoming a mess of slivers and chunks. It doesn't stop the zombie, though. Its arms and legs go into a frenzy of lust for my husbands flesh and blood. I watch as gashes appear on Will's face and arms, blood rising to the surfaces.

  I'm too terrified to scream, too terrified to move.

  Then Will starts slamming his fists into the things head, over and over. Its body finally slams to the ground, but Will just follows it down. He doesn't stop until the undead's head is smashed in, its movements stopped permanently.

  But now, Will has attracted the attention of even more zombies, the ones who had been on the other side of the house, and even more that had been at the barn, doing their best to get to the living inside the other big building. I regain the ability to speak, and scream out for him to hurry. He looks up at me, then around at the new threats, before taking off at a run to the passenger door of the truck. Bo unlocks the door for his dad and Will scrambles inside, slamming the door shut with just seconds to spare.

  Soon the truck starts up and begins to move through the flood of undead, and actual dead, bodies. I can only assume Will is planning to get closer to one of the buildings so that they might be able to get inside where it would certainly be safer, but it doesn't take long before the crowd swells to a massive amount, and the truck can go no further. I hear the engine die, and not long after, Will appears through the hatch and settles on the roof of the truck. I see Bo start handing up weapon after weapon, then he joins Will, and sits beside him.

  Those two, along with everyone else who's safely inside wherever they happened to find shelter at, slowly reduce the zombie population until no more zombies are free to moan and eat.

  Cautiously, we all emerge from the buildings we had taken cover in to track down any missed zombies and make this a safe place again. When I step from the house, the stench of rotting flesh is so overwhelming, that I gag a few times. I quickly cover my mouth and nose with my shirt, noticing others do the same.

  With my gun reloaded and ready to fire, I start toward the Hummer in the front, needing to first make sure my two guys are really and truly safe. I run into them as they round the side of the house, and the relief of seeing that they are indeed alright, cause my knees to shake and threaten to drop me on my ass.

  Will notices and wraps his arms around me, giving me a tight squeeze to reassure me. When he steps away, Bo throws his arms around my neck and gives me a quick hug, and an “I love you, Mom.”

  Then, we all three turn as one, and look around at the bodies littering the ground of our safe haven. The clean-up is going to take some time, but the repairs to the wall takes top priority.

  Bo and I follow Will as he walks toward the barn, gathering the stronger people as we go. We meet up with my brothers, my dads, and some other people I don't yet know, outside the big building.

  As I hold Bo close to my left side and Ash to my right, we listen as Will talks to Dad Rex and Dad Ben. They organize some of the men to drive the semis loaded with the extra wall pieces and supplies, and set them up so that work can be started immediately where the wall had fallen in. My sister-in-law, Coco, and I are ordered to drive a couple of the Hummers that are fully stocked with weapons and follow the semis.

  Will then orders the rest of the able-bodied to follow on foot, killing any and all zombies they can find. My husband informs us all that he will catch up to us soon, before turning and walking toward the people who are searching the front of the property for any stray undead.

  Everyone leaves to follow his orders. The boys ride with me as we make our way toward the breached wall. Gun blasts every so often inform us that we have no reason to let down our guard. Once we reach the wooded area, the blasts sound even more often.

  I'm scared for the ones on foot, but I have to learn to trust that the others can take care of themselves. I can't protect everyone, even though I damn sure wish I could, but they've done very well staying alive and turning this place into a much safer haven while I was gone, so why wouldn't they do well now?I guess maybe I have just way too much of the protective instinct in me.

  When we get to the wall, the gunfire seems to increase. Once I can see what's going on, my mouth drops.

  The undead are incredible in their numbers and are trampling each other to get through the gap in the downed wall, but not a single living person runs away screaming. Instead, everyone works together, shooting, stabbing, and beating the heads sitting on top of the molded stinking flesh of the undead.

  Finally, we outnumber the zombies and are able to let most of the people work on the wall, while the rest of us keep them safe. In no time, the wall is back up and even more secure than before. Then we take our time checking out the other walls, making absolutely sure that they won't be knocked down so easily.

  Once we finish with that, we work on cleaning up the undead. The bodies are loaded into the back of a couple empty semis and taken outside the property a few miles down the road, where they are then tossed into a pit and set on fire.

  I understand the need to burn the corpses, but it's still something I don't want to think about too much.

  Everyone else seems to feel the same way, some avoiding gazes with others, shame and heartbreak evident. Others make jokes to cover the pain of doing a job that we can no longer rely on others to do. Then there are those that just can't hide the emotions, and tears stream down their faces. Yet no one complains or attempts to protest, because we all know that it has to be done.

  Finally, it's finished, and we can all go home and clean ourselves up.

  As I leave the bathroom, I dry my hair with a towel and sigh at the feel of my nice comfortable pajama pants and an old t-shirt against my skin.

  This is freaking heaven!

  I pass several family members on my search for Will and my boys, finally finding them sitting together on the porch steps along with my two youngest brothers, Ryder and Andy. They all turn and greet me when I step out of the house. I squeeze in between Will and Ash on the top step and Will wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him. Ash leans against me, and Bo leans his back against my legs.

  Now this is perfection.

  “So, what are you guys talking about?” I ask.

  Ryder looks at the others, and when he doesn't get any subtle head shakes, he finally tells me, “We're deciding what to do with Jake.”

  “I see. What have you come up with so far?” I ask, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.

  “Nothing that will work. He's too good at escaping and fighting.”

  I snort and toss my head. “So? That just means we need to be smarter. He's not a frikken god, he's just an asshole that happens to have some military training. We need to build a small one-room building – a cell, I guess – and keep his ass in there. We install a real cell door and maybe a small barred window. Oh! And maybe chain a zombie or two in there with him, giving them just enough slack to scare him into pissing himself every so often. Then we torture the fucker until we get what we need. Then we let him die, but just before he dies, we bring him back again. Then we–”

  I end my verbal fantasy of Jake with a jolt when I remember there are other people here – people who are now lo
oking at me as if I have truly lost my mind. Will, Ash, and Bo have all pulled slightly away from me so as to look at me more fully, their mouths wide and their eyes even wider.

  Um, maybe now would be a good time for a recovery mission...my own.

  I give a quick, nervous laugh and say, “After the part about building a cell, I was just kidding.”

  I watch as they all exchange looks, clearly questioning whether my mind has been forever damaged, and to let each other know that they know I'm full of shit.

  “Guys! Really, I was just joking. Kinda. No, really. Sorta.” I look around at their knowing faces, and let out a big sigh of defeat.

  They all get to their feet and surround me. Will takes my right arm, while Andy takes my left, then they lead me off the porch and around to the back of the house. Ryder follows close behind us.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask them, maybe a little nervously.

  “There's a lot of people who haven't yet had the chance to see you since you've been home, one in particular who really wants to talk to you,” Will explains, vaguely.

  “Who?” I ask him.

  “You'll see. Just come on, already,” Will says as he and Andy have to pick me up enough that my feet are no longer creating trenches in the ground.

  I finally give up and cooperate, knowing I'm very much out-numbered and out-muscled. I see a familiar face up ahead and immediately forget that I'm basically a prisoner, until my body is jerked back in place when I attempt to run toward them.

  “Son of a bitch!” I yell out as I try to rub the pain out of my arms. “Holy hell! I just want to go see my dad.”

  My dad, Rex, spies us and heads our way, his eyes full of concern when he notices I'm being led around like a convict on my way to death-row. As he approaches us, I see the warning glare he sends my brother and husband, and soon the pressure on my arms disappear when they let go of me. They take one step back from me, but no more than that.

  “What in the hell is going on?” Dad Rex asks, his icy-blue eyes staring daggers into the two bullies who had been roughly man-handling his poor, little, oldest daughter.

  “Dad, we're just taking her to see an old friend,” Ryder explains.

  Dad turns suspicious eyes on his youngest son then.

  “Oh, for god's sake, Dad! She's my sister! I'm not gonna let anything happen to her. And neither is her other brother and her husband. Who the hell do you think we are!”

  Dad opens his mouth, but I can't wait any longer, and throw my arms around him.

  He looks good. No, he looks great, but I think I told you that already.

  “Dad! You look so different. Stronger, healthier. How are you feeling?”

  Silence answers me, and no one moves a single muscle.

  Okay. Did I say something wrong? I'm even more confused than ever right about now.

  “What's going on?” I ask them, as a strange vibration starts to move through my body.

  Something is definitely going on. Something I'm probably not going to like. These men suck at pretending, suck at being fake.

  Thank God!

  Dad avoids answering me, and is now perfectly alright with his daughter being manhandled as he gently pushes me back into the death grips of Will and Andy.

  “Wai– Dad!” I cry out to him, but he turns away from me and practically runs to get out of my sight.

  I struggle long enough to cause myself a little more pain, before giving up and letting the men lead me further into the property.

  As we walk, I check out all the new people, the new buildings that have been built, and all the activity that is going on. I point and ask questions about everything.

  “Who are all those people?” I ask, pointing toward a group standing together near a new building currently being framed.

  “We found them trying to escape a horde of zombie when we went back to Skidmore to get some of Dad's things. You'll like them. I'll introduce you later.” Will tells me.

  “What's that?” I point to a long rectangular white building.

  “That's the community cafeteria. And that,” Will stops me before I can ask what the next building is, which is a two story brick building, “is the medical building. We use the second floor for patients who need to stay, that way they are protected from issues such as the one we had today with the zombies. So the top floor is considered the hospital. The lower floor is the clinic. And that, my dear wife, is where you happen to be going.”

  The door of the building opens and a very large man steps out. When I see him, I run full-force into his open arms. I was able to break free from Will and my brother easily, as they had relaxed their hold when I failed to fight them over their revelation of my destination.

  “Dustin! Oh my god, I've missed you!”

  He grabs me up into a tight bear-hug, my feet way off the ground, and laughs when I let out a shriek of delight.

  “I heard you were back and was wondering when I would get to see you...or should I say, if I would get to see you before you run off again.”

  The disapproval and hurt is hard to miss in his voice, and as he sets my feet back on the ground, shame sweeps through me.

  “I know. I was an idiot. I should have known I could have trusted you, but I was more scared that I would end up hurting someone I cared about. I couldn't have lived knowing I did that to someone I loved. I certainly believed it was possible because, in case you haven't heard, I am a little crazy.”

  I attempt to lighten the seriousness with a bit of humor because the pain from seeing the hurt I put all my friends and family through is overwhelming – and I have no intention of publicly bawling my head off, which is what I'm damn near close to doing.

  Dustin raises his eyebrows when I finish and says, “A little? Honey, you give new meaning to the word crazy.” He pulls me to him and gives me a tight hug.

  After a few moments, he gently pushes me away from him so that he can look into my eyes, and continues, “I damn sure wouldn't have let anything happen to you, nor would I have let you harm anyone else. Mostly, I'm hurt and insulted that you thought I would ever hurt you.” He lifts his hand and cuts me off when I try to defend myself. “However, shit was a little crazy at that time, so I understand. You didn't know how dangerous it was to trust Jake, but don't let it happen again, Canada.”

  His tone, and the look he gives me, makes it clear that there had better never be a next time.

  “I promise,” I tell him as we hug again.

  Smiles and teasing replace the seriousness of the moment, and we move inside the building. Dustin is eager to show off the medical building – and I have to admit, I'm eager to see it – so I leave the overbearing jerks behind and slip my arm through Dustin's as he leads me to his pride and joy, his excitement rubbing off on me.

  Just inside the door is a small waiting room with a reception desk. Sitting behind the desk, is a woman I don't know. With shoulder length brown hair, a body built similar to my own, and glasses covering her big brown eyes, the beautiful woman oozed friendliness from every pore.

  I immediately like her, which is odd for me. I usually reserve judgment, preferring to err on the side of caution from the beginning. And except for Jake, I'm usually right about people.

  “This is my receptionist, and close friend–”

  A commotion at a door to our right interrupts Dustin before I can find out who this lovely lady is. But I quickly forget about her when I see exactly what comes through that door. A man in his early thirties – that's just a guess, really – about six feet tall, and weighing about two hundred pounds fills the doorway. His brown hair is cut into a buzz, and his bright blue eyes sparkle with...something.

  He's wearing the oddest clothing for a full-grown man – a black cape, red tights, and a tight red t-shirt with huge double Z's written on the front in black marker.

  I don't know what to do...laugh or hide behind Dustin. The odd man is struggling with the door, his cape having gotten caught on the doorknob. He finally frees himself, af
ter threatening said door's “life,” and going into explicit detail with how that door's life might end in many creative, but gory scenarios. When he spots Dustin, a huge smile lights up his face, and his murderous anger at the door is instantly forgotten.

  I admit to being nervous enough to move away from Dustin when the man charges him...after all, I don't know what the hell is going on!

  I stare in astonishment as the big man runs full-speed toward Dustin. Just after I picture my friend being thrown across the room by the impact, the man stops. Then he sticks his hand out palm down, and strikes a regal pose that would put true royalty to shame. My mouth drops as I watch Dustin's grin become even wider as he drops to one knee and lightly kisses the man's hand before dropping his head in a bow.

  What...the...fu–!

  I move closer to the wall, away from this bizarre scene. Dustin finally stands and looks over at me, his grin becoming impossibly wider when he sees me looking all freaked out.

  “Let me introduce you to the man we all owe our lives to, John Stagman – or as most others call him, because he insists on it, The Zombie Zapper. John, meet Canada, the woman you've been asking so many questions about.”

  I give Dustin a quick questioning look as I start forward to shake John's hand, but turn and screech in fear and slam my back into the wall when John charges toward me this time, his own loud screech scaring me almost as much as his body coming straight at me does.

  I have time for just one brief thought before John reaches me...there is no way in hell I'm kissing this man's hand!

  Turns out, I don't have to.

  John doesn't stop like he did with Dustin. Instead, he picks me up in a bear-hug and bounces me across the room, while spinning in circles, his excitement making it hard for me to understand what he's screaming. I feel pure terror wash over me, until I see the look of sheer joy on his face, which gives me a little hope that maybe I don't have to worry about my life being in danger.