We Are The Infected: Dext of the Dead

by Steve Kuhn

  He was right. We were getting mobbed and had to stay mobile. Getting cornered is as bad as getting surrounded, but if we’re moving, the stinks are constantly changing direction, which takes them some time. If they can pursue in a straight line, they’ll just wear you down.

  Cutty pulled his back off the wall and charged headlong into a pack of five. He gave the first one a kick, which sent it sprawling, and then the second one got a machete uppercut that sent the blade straight out of the top of its head. He was a machine! Three and four were offed with straight, downward chops through the forehead, and then he finished the one on the ground. Wyatt took out the last with a well-placed shot that rained brain and skull all over Cutty.

  I shouted, “Done!” as I pulled back the slide on my pistol, and we displaced. As we reached the opposite corner, I could see Trey on the ground with a group closing in fast. He was holding his arm and bleeding a bit. No one else was anywhere to be seen. I figured they ran off for cover or were staying mobile. We couldn’t leave him lying there… We just couldn’t.

  Boom, boom, boom!

  Wyatt fired his last three rounds and reloaded as we fought our way to Trey. He shouted, “I’m shot, man! Crossfire!”

  Cutty scooped him up off the ground to look at his wound and said, “Nigga, you fine! Ain’t nothin’ but a scratch. Where Rebecca at?”

  As I took a few more shots at the incoming horde, Trey told us, “She’s fine as far as I can tell. Kylee’s got her back. They’re on the other side of that firing range over there to draw them away from Matthew’s group. They think I’m dead!”

  Wyatt told him, “Well, then she’ll have a nice surprise waiting for her when we’re done with this shit. Now man the fuck up and shoot with your other hand.”

  Trey nodded, and we were on the move again.

  There was still plenty of gunfire going on, so we knew we weren’t totally screwed yet, but there were easily a hundred or more of them left. We wanted to at least put eyes on Rebecca and Kylee, so we shot and hacked our way to the firing range and peeked around the corner.

  They were in deep shit, though, thirty or more yards away and nearly fist fighting with the dead. Kylee was screaming hysterically, and Rebecca was crying when they spotted us. Kylee cried out, “I’m out of ammo… We got nothing left!” and Rebecca shouted, “Uncle Curtis! Help! Not like this, not like this!”

  We were completely cut off from them when Wyatt said, “Cutty, gimme the bomb!”

  Cutty protested for a second, but Wyatt snapped, “Cutty! I got this, man. Gimme the bomb!”

  Cutty passed it over to him along with a lighter from Murphy’s place, and Wyatt tucked it into his waistband. “Now cover me. I’m going to save our family.” With that, he was off towards the dead that were blocking our way.

  Cutty spun around to cover Trey and me as we dropped a few to clear a path for Wyatt.

  Wyatt fired as he went, and as he reached Kylee and Rebecca, he threw himself into the attacking geeks, bowling them over. Kylee and Rebecca broke off and around the fallen group and made a dash back towards us as Wyatt fought to get back to his feet. They were closing on him so fast. Trey tossed Kylee his pistol, and she spun to cover Wyatt.

  Kaboom!

  Kylee shrieked, “No, oh God, no!” as the explosion decimated every one of the dead in a twenty-foot radius. Body parts and blood went flying through the air and… there was nothing left… nothing left of anything…. nothing left of Wyatt.

  Fuck this…

  I’m done writing…

  I can’t do this anymore today…

  Entry 64

  It’s been nearly three days since I’ve been able to write anything—not that I haven’t had the time, but more because I just didn’t want to. We’ve been on the run so much that when we suffer a loss, there is little time to mourn. I used to wish that we had that time for Junior and Bizzy, but now I realize that it was almost a blessing that we didn’t.

  The stink of burning flesh hangs heavily around us as the cross-huggers burn the bodies of the dead. JC, Murphy, Trey… They’re all just busily shaping up the place, but I don’t care. Cutty, Kylee… We’ve just been preparing a service for Wyatt. All that other shit can wait.

  I’ve watched Cutty now for two days straight as he carries water to the crater where Wyatt made his final stand. He walks all the way down to the small creek about four hundred yards away and fills his single bucket. Then he walks all the way back up and scrubs the blood with his old tee-shirt until he needs more water… Then he does it all over again—over and over and over again… Two days he’s been scrubbing to get the site ready.

  Kylee spent this morning sorting through Wyatt’s belongings, cleaning and folding his clothes, and such. If I didn’t know her, I’d say it was out of character, but it’s exactly what she needed to do for her own peace of mind.

  There is no body… no actual corpse to bury so, in a way, that part is easier. No one wanted to see Wyatt like that anyway. None of us could handle seeing that boy mangled and torn up.

  Matthew tried to help us out with the emotion by saying something like we should be thankful to God for that, at least. Whatever.

  And then Mark added that Wyatt was a sacrificial lamb, and perhaps that was Wyatt’s rapture. He actually seemed excited for Wyatt. Well, Mark can just fuck off.

  Kylee, Cutty, and I assembled at the crater, and the others slowly approached to pay their respects. No one said a word. No one could say a word.

  The group left small things in the crater in Wyatt’s memory and then meandered off to go back to work.

  Murphy put his set of dominoes in, and Trey, now wearing a sling and healing slightly from his bullet wound, laid a small bunch of flowers he managed to gather near the creek. JC pulled the magazine from Wyatt’s M-4 and cleared the round from the chamber. He placed it gently in the crater unloaded, with the safety on, before wandering away.

  As Matthew raised his arms to speak, Cutty and Rebecca made the sign of the cross… but Kylee glared at the three cross-huggers with her good eye and said coldly, “No. You’re not welcome here.”

  The Christians frowned slightly and went on their way without another word.

  Rebecca stared at the gaping hole in the ground as she took a knee. With tears in her eyes, she kissed her hand and pressed it gently to the ground. She whispered, “Thank you, Wyatt. I’m so sorry…,” then rose to her feet, clinging to Cutty and sobbing.

  Cutty sniffled audibly as he held Rebecca, saying, “Young blood… I always called him ‘young blood’…,” but he couldn’t continue. He just sniffled again and rubbed his eyes, holding Rebecca even tighter.

  Kylee stepped forward and handed me a folded piece of paper. She said simply, “This was with his things.” I opened it up and skimmed it over briefly before reading it aloud. It said:

  Dear Hope,

  This is your uncle Wyatt! Sounds pretty official, huh? I know you’re not here anymore, but I still have a hard time every day when I think about you and your mom. When you were in your mom’s belly, the whole world wasn’t like it is right now. We had a family and a house, and everyone was happy all the time. There were lots of toys and games and anything you could think of. Everyone was so excited for you to come along, especially me. I was going to be an UNCLE! And I was going to show you how to play video games and tell you all about the world and the people in it. It really sucks that we won’t get to do that together.

  Ever since things got messed up, there’s no time to play. I never get to do what I want to do, and I miss home so badly. I miss your mom a lot, too. Luckily, I have Kylee, and she’s kind of like my mom these days. She’s beautiful like your mommy was, and she’s really nice. If she’s mean to me, it’s only because I messed up pretty bad. Kylee always makes me feel better when I’m sad or really angry at something, so I’m really glad I have her.

  I miss Dad sometimes. My dad, that’s your grandfather, was always tough, and he always tried to do the right thing. He always made su
re I did the right thing, too. He wasn’t as tough as Cutty, though. Cutty’s so awesome! I always wished Dad could talk to me like Cutty talks to me. It’s weird. Cutty lets me say what I think before he tells me what I SHOULD think, and he’s almost always right. But at least he hears what I have to say. Most grownups just tell me to be quiet and listen. I think that sucks. He’s a lot of fun too. Sometimes we make fun of Junior when he’s not looking. You LOVED Cutty when you were here with us. I can remember you never wanting to leave his side, even when Junior was trying to play with you. He called himself your Uncle Cutty before you died. I know he misses you even if he didn’t know you for very long.

  Dext is still here, too! Dext is really cool. I think Dext is a lot like YOUR daddy, but he still sucks at a lot of stuff. Chuck was your dad’s name. He wasn’t a really tough guy or anything, but he always tried the best he could. And he was smart. Dext is smart like that. He’s the one that gave me the idea to write this note to you. He told me that he likes to write stuff down because it’s easier than talking all the time. Dext says you make better decisions after you write them down, because it gives you time to really think about the stuff on the page. I think he’s right about that. Dext is also the one that told me about how important family is.

  He told me that family looks out for each other all the time, and they’re always there for you. You don’t need to be related to be a family. It’s all about how you treat each other. I guess that makes them my family now. So that’s why I’m writing this letter. I have to let go of my old family and make the best of my new family, but I’ll never forget you. I’ll just try and smile at the good times we had when you were alive.

  Goodbye, Hope.

  Love, Wyatt

  I think we all could learn a lot from Wyatt.

  Connection Attempt

  …………….

  …………….

  Connection failed. Could not open connection to the host on port 5651.

  Retry? Yes

  Spark2 Secure Shell> open

  ( to ) Spark1

  Connecting to Spark1…

  …………….

  …………….

  Connection established!

  Spark2> Colonel? Do we have you?

  Spark1> I’ll be damned! They fixed it, Chalmers!

  Spark2> Don’t get too excited, sir. No idea how long we can keep this up. This is an extremely primitive connection. Regardless, it sure is nice to have two-way comm back, even if it is short-lived.

  Spark1> Then I’ll cut the shit and get down to brass tacks before we drop off again. This Baxter character says Kilo Company has been decimated. Exactly what the hell is he talking about? I’m still seeing positive reports from Kilo along with the others. In fact, I’m starting to doubt the validity of this kid more and more.

  Spark2> We’re trying to figure that out, too, sir. As of the last Sector C drop, Kilo was still very much up and running, just beat up a little. As a matter of fact, the F-16 sorties stopped at least a month ago once they were through with bombing, and Kilo was a major factor in cleaning out the cities once the bombing was through. We’re thinking that maybe this group of Christians had their wires crossed or just lied about it altogether. Sir, nothing in the documents thus far has us thinking Mr. Baxter was knowingly misleading us in any way. Point of fact, we’ve already learned quite a bit from him, and field tests are showing that his accounts are accurate on that front.

  Spark1> Example?

  Spark2> Lots of things, really. It’s very exciting! Bravo Company has found that if they identify the alpha in a herd, they can buy themselves a full ten minutes before the herd identifies a new alpha. That is, provided the Zs aren’t already locked into a food source. They’ve also shown great success using fire to control perimeters before the fencing can go up. These two things alone have saved us time and men.

  Spark1> Good work. And what of SSG Peel? Any progress there?

  Spark2> Well, we’ve reviewed Sector C documents from the past three months, and there were no traces of a female with her attributes that we couldn’t identify. I’ve spoken to the team that found the journal after the ambush, and they all say that no female bodies were found at the scene. In fact, save for our casualties, only two unidentified bodies were found at all. One was holding the journal, and the other was an as yet unidentified black man.

  Spark1> So, there’s a chance she’s still alive.

  Spark2> The way I see it, as long as she continues to appear in the journal, there is no reason to think otherwise.

  Spark1> Good enough. But I want you to *-@#$(@#^$@((!)))$!) _ _ _ _ _

  Connection lost.

  Retry? Yes

  Spark2 Secure Shell> open

  ( to ) Spark1

  Connecting to Spark1…

  …………….

  …………….

  Connection failed. Could not open connection to the host on port 5651.

  > Quit

  Entry 65

  There are a few problems that need to be dealt with… Well, more than a few.

  In the days following the service for Wyatt, we learned some stuff that was both promising and horrifying. It sort of began when JC told Matthew, “The compound is clean. Except for a few buildings left to clear, I’d say it’s safe to start moving in your people.”

  Matthew responded with a seriously puzzled look. “What people?”

  Now, I don’t know about you, but all this talk of the “Army” and shit had me pretty much in the mindset that there was indeed a congregation—moreover, that this congregation would arrive once this place was secure and we could begin making a more permanent residence here.

  Sadly, that was not the case at all, as evidenced by Matthew’s response of, “Brother, we are building the Army. We are missionaries, and it is our job to spread the word of God and offer shelter. We must go out and recruit. Was this not clear?”

  I just walked away. I’m sure JC flipped his wig, but as fucked up as that situation sounds, it got worse on an entirely different level.

  Wyatt’s passing and the manner in which he decided to go has been taking an obvious toll on everyone involved, but if there was one gleaming ray of sunshine in the whole thing, it was that it changed Rebecca in a positive way. She finally levelled with Cutty about Trey. Whether or not Cutty would have protested at all will probably never be known, but he embraced the idea. In fact, when she took it a step further and told us all that she wanted to marry him, Cutty simply smiled and hugged her. He said, “Dat’s good, Rebecca. It’d be nice ta see a li’l bit of the old traditions stay wit’ us.”

  She beamed happily and ran off to tell Trey.

  I needed some good news, so I ran along with her. We found Trey over at Wyatt’s gravesite sitting uncomfortably. Rebecca asked him, “How’s the arm, baby?”

  He hefted it a little bit and told us, “Hurts like a bitch. It’s been going numb every once in a while, though. Not sure if I should be worried about that or just happy that it doesn’t give me hell when it’s numb.”

  I suggested we have Murphy take a look at it when we get a chance.

  She told him about Cutty’s blessing and asked if it would be all right if the Christians performed the service in the old church. I personally didn’t care where and how they did it… just that it would make them happy. There’s no law and therefore no benefit to marriage these days, save for the spiritual side of it. I mean, shit… I could just say, “Do you wanna marry him? Do you wanna marry her? Sweet! You’re married!” I mean, who’s gonna say it isn’t legit, right? Regardless, a few short hours later, we were all assembled at the church.

  Murphy had tended to Trey’s dressing and examined the arm, so everything seemed to be in order. Things are rarely what they seem.

  It wasn’t a big ceremony, really. Cutty walked her down the aisle, where Luke was waiting for them with Trey standing by in his sling. The rest of our meager group sat in the pews watching Luke perform the rites. Towards the end, Luke aske
d, “Do you have rings?”

  Rebecca and Trey frowned uncomfortably, and Trey said, “Nah… thing’s been kinda tight lately.”

  Everyone chuckled a little bit until Rebecca piped up with, “We have these…. Will these do?” She grabbed Trey’s uninjured arm and held out their wrists.

  Luke saw the ‘T’ etched and scarred into Rebecca’s wrist and the very recent ‘R’ that was now burnt into Trey’s and shrugged, saying, “Yes, those will suffice.” He concluded the ceremony, and everyone clapped for them as they kissed for the first time as a married couple. It was nice… It really was.

  A few minutes later Murphy grabbed me by the arm and pulled me off to the side, and I knew he was about to fuck up my day just by the look on his face. I asked him what was up, and he whispered, “That boy’s bullet wound ain’t in good shape, Dext. He’s got a nasty infection, and we only got a small amount of antibiotics left. We may have to clear those other buildings sooner rather than later and see if there’s an infirmary around here.”

  They had to be cleared anyway at some point in the very near future, so I just shrugged him off and told him I would get to that as soon as we wrapped up here. We were heading back to the compound anyway. He shook his head and said, “Even if we get the meds, we might still have a problem… a big fucking problem.”

  His beating around the bush was getting on my nerves, so I told him to just quit fuckin’ around and spill it.

  He sighed heavily and told me, “JC and I saw what happened when he dropped. I saw the bullet hit him, and he fell over when it spun him around… So, me and Fart started heading in his direction for first aid and all that, but JC stopped us. JC told me Trey was a dead man. I could see him squirming and shit, and I knew he wasn’t bit, so I told JC that I could see he was fine… I knew I could get him fixed up if we could keep the dead off of him, but JC told me to leave him.”

  That pissed me right off. I spun on my heels and stalked over to JC and told him we needed to talk.