“We agree,” Eric said. “Won’t two more people who know how to shoot be a good thing? If we were a danger with the virus, I would have died months ago.”
“We’ll need to discuss this.” Colton stood. “We’re running out of room.”
“We can sleep in the barn with the animals. It’s better than where we’ve been sleeping.” Eric stood and helped Rachel to her feet. “We’ll keep watch by the gate while you make your decision.”
Chalice watched them until they were out of ear shot. “It might be good to keep them around. As much as I dislike looking at a person responsible for all this, she might be an advantage we can’t ignore. What if she can come up with a cure?”
“With what?” George waved his one good hand. “It isn’t like there’s an abundance of scientific chemicals around here.”
Chalice shrugged. “I’m just saying it might not be a bad idea to have two more able bodied adults.”
“I agree with Chalice.” Colton nodded. “Rachel didn’t have to tell us who she is.”
“True.” Mom moved for the front door. “I don’t think we should turn anyone seeking help away. Not if they’re good people. We don’t want to turn as mindless as those things stalking us.”
Gunfire came from the fence. Chalice and Colton grabbed their rifles and dashed to help. By the time they reached Rachel and Eric, the five undead lay in a reeking mass with holes in their heads.
“We’ve seen more of them today then we’ve seen in months,” Chalice said. Had they somehow followed Rachel or were they drawn because of the gunshots earlier? “We try not to shoot them. Use the spears instead.” She pointed to several sharpened iron rods. “Ammo is hard to replace. They’ll get close enough for you to kill, believe me.”
Once the freaks got a scent of the survivors, they always stuck their faces close to the holes in the fence. Chalice hated to think of what the ground outside looked like. The smell alone told her the corpses were stacked a couple high.
Bill said they’d get used to the smell. She didn’t think so. Maybe it was time to have a zombie bonfire. She grinned. They could send out invitations inviting all the undead.
*
“What’s so funny?” Colton leaned against the fence.
“Nothing. Just having silly thoughts.”
“Well, hold on to them. I’ve had a bad feeling all day. Things are going to get bad again, I know it. When we go out tomorrow, we should wear the paper doctor masks.”
“You’re going out there?” Rachel lowered her rifle. “You’re nothing but a couple of kids.”
“Adults.” Colton clenched his jaw. “We’re the ones who found all these survivors and got them here safely. I think we’ll manage. We need to make a run.”
Rachel and Eric glanced at each other. “We’ll go with you,” she said.
Colton shrugged. “We go quietly. No firing shots unless absolutely necessary.”
“Agreed. You’re the boss. So, you’re letting us stay?”
He nodded, still unsure about how he felt about them. Tomorrow should be a good indication of how worthy they would be as fighters.
“We need to burn those bodies,” Rachel said. “Especially the new improved version.”
“A zombie bonfire after all,” Chalice said.
“What?” Colton frowned.
“Nothing.”
“You and Rachel cover us.” Colton slid the bar and creaked the gate open.
Stacking the decaying bodies was gruesome work. His hand sank through flesh to the bone more times than he cared to admit. The stench curled his stomach. Soon, the undead pile was as tall as his six foot height. When he caught Mychal watching, he sent him after a can of gasoline.
Soon, Eddy joined them, iron rod in hand. “I could see a few of them at the edge of the woods. I couldn’t tell if they were the old version or the new, but Mychal and I figured you might need us.”
“Once we get this fire set,” Colton said, squirting the bodies. “We’ll be able to get back behind the fence.
“No time.” Eric spread his legs shoulder-width apart and took one of the rods from Eddy. “They’re coming in fast. Keep your backs together. This new breed is stronger and quicker.”
Within minutes, Bill, Sarah, Amos, Adam Wilson, and Marianne, Chalice’s mother had joined them. The dogs tried to come out, too, but Colton sent them back. He didn’t mind trying their teeth on one undead at a time, but not a handful of the new threat.
Cotton filled Colton’s mouth as six zombies sprinted toward them. These weren’t missing limbs or had entrails waving behind them like flags. These looked like normal people except for the blood-stained teeth and dark eyes. He planted his feet and hooked the bayonet he kept on his belt to the end of his rifle. Chalice did the same.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I feel like I’ve forgotten how to fight.”
“Remember quick.” He lunged forward, his bayonet taking the first zombie in the eye. It grabbed the barrel of the rifle with both hands in a macabre tug of war. Colton twisted and yanked, felling the man like a tree.
Mychal yelled out as a fallen non-breather latched its teeth onto his leather clad leg. Chalice rushed forward, ramming her bayonet through the man’s skull. Thank God for thick Harley Davidson leather, and for Mychal’s reluctance to stop wearing the pants even with the weather warming up.
Rods jabbed, in and out, until all of the non-breathers lay in a heap and gore splattered the ground. Colton struggled to catch his breath. This had been no simple task of jabbing a creature in the eye and having them fall. This had been a battle. His arms trembled from the exertion.
Eddy slammed the end of the rod he held over and over into the head of one of the zombies until there was nothing left but a mass of hair and gore. Speckles of dark brain matter covered his hands and arms. His chest heaved.
“Dude,” Mychal said. “It’s dead already.”
“It looked like the one that killed my mom, okay? It will never be dead enough.” With one more bash, he turned and marched back through the gate.
“Issues.” Mychal grimaced. “I’m not hungry for supper anymore.” He grabbed the legs of the one that had tried to take a bite out of him and rolled it into the now blazing inferno.
Colton scanned the tree line. It wasn’t safe to leave the fire untended that close to the fence, but who could he ask to risk their lives to guard the funeral pyre? He eyed the newcomers. “Y’all watch the fire. We’ll cover you from inside.” He followed the rest of the group behind the fence and closed the gate.
“Do you think in some weird way that the zombies are being drawn to Rachel’s location?” Chalice propped her gun against the fence. “Kind of like babies follow their mother?”
“That’s impossible.” Colton shoved his bayonet into the ground to clean off the blade. “I’m sure that as our numbers grow, they smell us.”
She pulled the neckline of her shirt over her nose. “Most likely they smell their own.”
Smoke rose, carrying the sickly sweet smell of death. Chalice was probably right. They’d slacked on removing the bodies. The smell probably carried for miles. So would the smoke. He only hoped it didn’t attract unwanted visitors.
Where they stayed, high in the mountains, they rarely saw the living, and he didn’t want to draw in the type of people who would want what they have. It was all he could stomach to kill the non-breathers. The faces of the living he’d had to kill haunted his dreams.
Two hours later, the sun disappeared over the mountain, casting the land in darkness except for the area illuminated by the fire. The flames simmered over the bones of what had once been husbands and wives, mothers and Fathers.
Colton whistled for the dogs. They’d be an early warning system for human eyes.
“How long do we have to stay out here?” Eric asked. “We were kind of looking forward to a good night’s sleep.”
“If you can douse the fire, you can come i
n.”
Rachel and Eric started kicking dirt over the coals and bones. When they were done, night fully embraced them and Colton opened the gate.
“You’re so mean,” Chalice said, her teeth shining in the moonlight.
“No, he’s not,” Rachel said moving past them. “He’s only making sure we’re as honest as we say we are. I’d say we passed the test.”
Buster growled, his snout pressed to a hole in the fence. The hair on Lucy’s neck bristled.
3
“What are you doing?” Chalice tossed a backpack into the front seat of Bill’s truck.
“Trying to decide which dog to take. We need a warning system for when we’re inside somewhere.” Colton rubbed his chin.
“Take Buster. Lady’s having pups.” She grinned.
“Why didn’t I know this?”
“You weren’t paying attention. She isn’t getting fat from extra food.” None of them were. While Chalice wasn’t as thin as she’d been before arriving at the farm, she didn’t have a lot of spare weight hanging around.
She hefted a plastic crate into the back of the truck. “I think Mychal and Eddy should stay here if Rachel and Eric are going. They’re needed to guard against those sprinters.”
“Have you told them?” Colton hooked a chain to Buster’s collar and snapped for him to get into the truck bed.
“Not yet.” They wouldn’t be happy. Especially her brother. If she were going stir-crazy, he was even more, but he got out once in a while to hunt. He’d get over it.
She glanced to where Hanna and Alyssah watched over the others. Faith led the group in a game of tag, the others laughing without sound. It wasn’t fair. Kids like Caleb and Trinity, not to mention the younger ones should be able to shriek with laughter without the fear of drawing the attention of the undead. Now, a new threat loomed over all their heads. An airborne virus probably brought into their midst by the two newcomers.
After informing two very unhappy teenagers that they’d be staying behind, she sighed and slammed the truck gate closed as Rachel and Eric took their seats in the back. Chalice climbed into the passenger side, leaving her window open. She could usually smell the threat before they got close enough to bite her. She wasn’t sure what was worse…the smell or the heat of being cooped up in the cab. She already sweated from the leather she wore. It wasn’t safe out there without the protection. She’d have to suffer through the heat.
Mychal opened the gate, his dark face wearing a scowl, and Colton drove the old Chevy out of the safe confines of the farm. Three zombies lay against the fence, holes in their heads. Last night’s late visitors. Mychal dragged the bodies to the fire pit and tossed Chalice a wave.
Adopted as an infant or not, she loved him the same as if he were blood. Him and Hanna both. Mom hadn’t been able to have children so her and dad had adopted the three of them before Dad died of a heart attack at the young age of thirty-two. They had Mom back, but thankfully Dad had died before the meteor strike that turned the world upside down.
“Where are we headed this time?” She asked as Colton drove down the mountain road.
“Lana said there was a small clinic tucked away farther up the mountain. Said a retired doctor ran it for emergency cases. I’m hoping it hasn’t been discovered yet.”
“Why didn’t she go herself?”
He shrugged. “She sent one of her workers, but he returned as one of the non-breathers, and she killed him with a pitchfork. Since his pockets were empty, she figured he hadn’t made it that far. She was afraid to go alone.”
It would be a gold mine if someone hadn’t cleared the place out yet. It wouldn’t hurt to have a doctor, either. She dared to hope the good doctor might be alive and well holed up in his little clinic.
As they drove, they passed a few shufflers milling about in the trees, but no sprinters. Hopefully, that meant the new version of undead were rare. Chalice chanced rolling her window down another couple of inches. The non-breathers sniffed the air like dogs as the truck cruised past.
Chalice gripped the handle of her katana. If a sprinter came out of the trees, she could lop of its head before it got inside the cab.
“Relax.” Colton laid a hand on her leg. “We’re okay for now. Rest in case we meet up with trouble.”
She nodded. Her gut told her they’d see plenty of trouble before the day was over. She felt rusty, out of practice fighting. She’d gotten soft living at the farm doing nothing more than gardening and keeping watch. For a few months, they’d lived an almost idyllic life. A safe life, losing no one to the plague of undead.
She glanced over her shoulder at Rachel and Eric, praying they wouldn’t lose anyone else. For those two to have made it as far as they did, they must have what it takes to survive. She hoped they could hold their own when outnumbered by creatures that wanted to bite off their faces.
The truck bumped over a poorly graded road that nature was doing her best to reclaim. Chalice released her hold on her sword and grabbed the handgrip to the right of her head. A few minutes later they pulled into a yard overrun with the very beings they wanted to avoid. She rolled up her window.
At least twenty undead roamed the yard. A man around the age of sixty stood on a high porch and bashed with a baseball bat any zombie that got too close. The doctor, most likely. Chalice admired his grit.
“Ready?” Colton already had one hand on the doorknob, the other on a steel sharpened spear.
Chalice nodded.
He opened the sliding window behind them. “We’re going in. Same formation as last night.”
They left the truck and entered hell. Immediately the non-breathers turned and shuffled their way. The doctor sagged against a porch post, clearly exhausted.
Taking a deep breath, Chalice held her sword like a warrior and started hacking and stabbing. The others did the same.
Rachel yelled and fell, holding a zombie by the throat and trying to avoid its gnashing teeth. Chalice stabbed through the back of the beast’s head. Rachel gagged and rolled free, covered in black blood. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Rachel retrieved her spear and went to help Eric who fought two dead men. Fifteen minutes later, chests heaving, the four approached the older man on the porch.
“You four saved my bacon for sure.” He unlatched the porch gate. “I sure do hope you aren’t here to steal from me.”
“No, sir.” Chalice sheathed her sword. “We’re here to ask for help. We have a fairly large group of survivors living at Lana Coleman’s and we’re here for medicine and anything else you can spare.”
“Y’all need a doctor over there? Me and the missus have been living here alone for a long time. I’ve a well-stocked pharmacy, food stuffs, weapons. You name it.”
“We’re glad to have you.” Colton thrust out his hand. “I’m Colton Morgan and this is Chalice Hart, Rachel Moore and Eric King. We’ve a prospering little community with children. Your skills are very needed.”
“I’m Robert Hooper. Wife’s name is Lucy. Y’all come in.” He ushered them into a modest but comfortable home. From the folds of skin she had, his wife had once been a large woman, forced on a diet by lack of food. She had already started throwing canned goods into boxes.
“I am very happy to leave this place,” she said. “I can’t wait to see little ones again. Children are our hope. Robert, load up the chickens and pigs in our truck and let’s get the hell out of here.”
It took an hour to load everything the Hoopers still had stocked in their basement. Chalice knew the signs of preppers and rejoiced every time she ran into those willing to share. Before everything hit the fan, and not like most people expected, she’d read somewhere that twenty percent of America’s population believed in preparing for the unexpected. Somehow, she doubted a zombie apocalypse planned into their plans.
She leaned against the truck bed and scanned the trees. One more trip to the basement, the doctor said, and they’d have everything of value he possessed.
/> *
When Colton returned to the truck with his first load of supplies, the bed was empty. Buster’s broken chain lay in the bed. He turned and scanned the tree line. He gave a low whistle. He shrugged. The dog would be back.
Colton’s spirits rose with every box of food and medicine put into the truck. The Hooper’s truck overflowed with livestock and feed. Mrs Hooper kept up a lively rambling dialogue of how happy she was to see people after so many months. This had to be their best run in a long time.
A shadow moved in the trees. Colton gripped his spear.
Mrs. Hooper jogged down the stairs, her arms full of bedding.
A sprinter burst into the yard.
Colton dashed toward the doctor’s wife.
The zombie knocked her to the ground and latched its teeth onto her neck, ripping out her jugular.
Her scream split the air and brought the others running.
The doctor raised his baseball bat, crushing in the sprinter’s head. He dropped to his knees and pulled his wife into his arms. Blood spurted from the hole in her neck, covering them both. “My love. My love. You’ll be okay.”
“No, honey, I won’t. You have to kill me. You know you do. Hug those precious babies for me, will you?”
“Anything.” Tears ran down his cheeks.
Chalice gathered the fallen blankets. Sobs shook her body. Rachel and Eric kept watch on the trees.
Colton kicked a can of green beans across the yard. This was his fault! He should have been paying closer attention, but the sprinter seemed to come out of nowhere. If Mrs. Hooper hadn’t been so close to the trees…No, her death couldn’t be helped. The doctor’s cries tore at his heart.
“I can’t do it,” the old man said as his wife lost consciousness.
“Come with me.” Chalice dumped the blankets in the truck and put an arm around his shoulders. “The others will care for your wife.” She met Colton’s gaze.
He nodded and stood over the body of one of the friendliest people he’d ever met. While Chalice kept the doctor occupied, Colton wiped away his tears on the sleeve of his shirt before driving his spear through the eye of Mrs. Hooper.
The Zombie Awakening (Complete 6 Volume Series, plus prologue) Page 23