Life Among The Dead

by Daniel Cotton

  Jack is secured into his car seat and Dan assumes his seat in the front. He takes a few minutes to ensure he has all his gear at the ready. The pistol is next to him on the seat and T-Rex’s hunting rifle is leaning along the passenger door. The large revolver is in the glove compartment to prevent it from sliding around too much.

  Dan is telling Jack about the activities they can do at the ranch; the ATV trails, snowmobiling, and horseback riding. He backs down the drive after clicking a device on the visor that opens the gate like magic.

  “That would have been useful earlier.” Dan tells the smiling boy in the back. The soldier is a little worried about the snow. It is really coming down in the early gloom of dusk. The roads might get hairy.

  “And, of course the lazy plow guys haven’t been out yet.” Dan says in a sarcastic voice. “All right Jackrabbit, Let’s hit the trail.”

  Dan is pulling onto the road, but has to break suddenly. The high walls had obscured his view and he wasn’t expecting any traffic. He stopped to avoid colliding with a military jeep that is speeding past. The full time soldiers screech to a halt, sliding on the snow-covered asphalt as their tires try to find traction.

  Dan remains still as if their vision is based on movement and they won’t see him. He reviews his options as the jeep full of soldiers backs up. They have him blocked from behind now. He can’t run. He can fight, but figures they’d win. Play it cool, Dan tells himself and turns the engine off.

  The driver of the jeep exits, his side arm is drawn as he approaches Dan’s door. The soldier is being covered by two of his buddies with twin M-16s. Dan has a second to cover the wound on his hand with the cuff of his sleeve. He pins the fabric in place between the wheel and his palm.

  “Sir, you need to proceed directly to…” The sentry lowers his weapon and waves for the others to follow suit. “You’re a company man.”

  “Just a reservist actually.” Dan says with a smile. “I’m on my way to Eagle Rock to see if I can help out.” He mixes the truth with lies.

  “We sure could use the help. Between casualties and panty waist deserters, we’re spread quite thin.” The soldier looks in the back at the pint-sized passenger.

  “Do they have any sort of daycare at Eagle Rock?” Dan asks.

  “I’m sure someone will watch him when you need it. We have plenty of refugees and dependents with nothing to do.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Looks like you suffered a loss of your own.” The soldier is looking at the house. Dan figured he’d spot the large grave. The snow has not yet obscured the mound of dirt. The outside light doesn’t help conceal the evidence since it is still shinning down like a beacon.

  “My folks… This was their place. Jack and I are from Waterloo.” Dan lays it thick.

  “You look like you’ve had a tussle. You aren’t bit are you?” The young doughboy moves his hand back to his holstered weapon.

  “No,” Dan replies easily. “I got knocked around by my Dad before I took him out. Then, I had to dig the holes out there.” He hopes it’s enough to explain his filthy uniform and the rest of his untidy appearance.

  “Good thing.” His hand relaxes away from his gun. He hitches his thumbs into his gear and his elbows rest on his dual canteens. “They’ll check you out as you enter the base anyway.”

  “I figured as much. You have to be careful these days.”

  “Sure do. This shit is a nightmare.” The soldier shakes his head.

  “So… Where are you boys off to in such a rush?” Dan wants him to go away, but thought it might be suspicious not to ask.

  “There’s a prison one of our recons found a ways south. It’s been completely abandoned by any sort of authority. The inmates are still locked up in their cells. We have to go baby sit. Feed them and shit.”

  Dan recalls passing a state penitentiary. He wonders if this is the prison in question.

  “Sounds like fun… I should get going before this weather gets worse.” Dan starts the engine. The gas gauge indicates they have a quarter of a tank. Dan isn’t worried about this. He had found a gas can Ryan must have used for his mower, and he had siphoned fuel out of the sedan they weren’t using.

  “Yeah, us to. They say we’re in for quite a blow. I’ll see you on post. The kid looks just like you.” He is walking backwards towards his ride.

  “Everyone says that.” Dan shrugs with a smile. He has to wait for the other vehicle to take off before he can pull onto the road.

  “So, as I was saying. The ranch has absolutely everything we will ever need.”

  17

  Jack and Dan are on the road driving as fast as the weather allows. They have just passed the turn for Eagle Rock and the kid is starting to get fussy. Dan has run out of things to talk about so he is pulling CDs out of the visor.

  He inserts a bright yellow disk into the player and a chorus of children serenades them. Dan remembers most of the songs from his youth. Jack isn’t impressed.

  Dan is hitting the scan button, trying to find a song that might sooth the miniscule beast in the back seat. As it turns out only one song will do. The Wheels on the bus, Jack loves it. He seems to sing along with the anonymous young voices.

  “You know the words, do you?” Dan asks his passenger. He hits the repeat button. “Isn’t that always the way? You buy an entire CD, and wind up only liking one song on it.”

  18

  The snow is letting up. Dan has just passed a sign that tells him New Castle is only twenty miles away.

  “The last sign said ten miles.” Dan is worried he will wind up getting lost. He adds it to his long list of things to worry about. Ever since he awoke in the Charles River, he has had a sharp pain in his stomach that is getting sharper and harder to ignore. He wonders what an ulcer feels like, and if this could be the start of one.

  His knuckles are white from squeezing the wheel. Jack has started crying and the never-ending song is getting irritating. The fucking bus has to stop sometime, Dan complains to himself.

  “Are you hungry?” Dan asks a little too loudly out of frustration. He pulls over to make the boy a bottle. The snow has all but stopped so he figures he might as well fill the tank now.

  From one of the bags Cecelia had packed, the soldier grabs a baby bottle full of water. It has measurement lines along its side that indicate it contains six ounces. The mother had taped a note to a can of powdered formula: One scoop per 2oz of water. Shake well. Example: six ounces of water = three scoops.

  He can’t feel too insulted. The woman was just concerned about her child’s wellbeing. Dan scoops the white powder into the opening of the bottle. He is successful in getting most of it in with his trembling hands. A fine dusting covers his lap. He screws on the nipple and shakes the liquid until all the powder is combined.

  Curiosity forces the soldier to open Jack’s beverage and smell it. He wants to know what Jack’s fuss is all about. The concoction makes Dan recoil. For a second he thinks the stuff has gone bad. It smells like garbage to the soldier. He isn’t exaggerating his reaction at all; the formula smells exactly like old, rancid trash. He puts the nipple on and hands it to the boy who lustfully guzzles it.

  “To each their own, I guess.” Dan says, making a disgusted face. He opens the door after a cautionary glance around. He really wishes he wore a watch. It’s dark and he would like to know what time it is.

  Dan has the gas cap off and is ready to fill the tank. He notices a small problem: there is no nozzle on the can. He had seen this predicament before on the bridge, that didn’t end very well. He thinks about the situation and brainstorms an idea.

  From the front seat he removes a beer from the remnants of the six-pack he had taken from Jack’s place. He hates the idea of drinking and driving with a child on board, but he downs one of the glass bottles. Dan turns the empty container into a funnel by smashing the bottom of it off on the rear bumper.

  The neck of the bottle goes into the receiving end of the car and Dan is able to fuel his ride
. He would love to have another beer, but can’t bring himself to do it. Not with Jack in the car. I have to be a good example.

  As the SUV’s lifeblood enters the tank Dan sees a light come on 200 yards down the road.

  “That’s odd.” He says to himself, finishing his task by tapping the can on the broken shard. He enters the SUV and douses the dome light as soon as it comes on. Jack is asleep, the bottle hangs from his lips like a passed out reveler’s party favor on New Year’s Eve. The soldier grabs his rifle and turns off the headlights to remain covert. He kneels behind his open door and peers down the scope.

  It is a porch light to a small run down looking trailer home set on the side of the road. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, Dan has seen a few along the way. What stands out to the soldier is the vehicle parked in front, a red truck with a smashed up front end.

  It can’t be, Dan thinks of the road warriors he had battled earlier that day. What are the odds? Dan is certain it can’t be the same guys. The front door of the mobile home bursts open, the thin screen door falls from its hinges entirely. A man with black hair exits.

  Dan can hear what sounds like a woman screaming. Two large men carry a girl from the cheap dwelling. She is in a slip of a nightgown, fighting against the massive men.

  The goons who take the girl against her will are wearing matching orange hunting vests. Over their shoulders Dan can see they have weapons slung. One carries a pump shotgun and the other an AK-47.

  “You aren’t real hunters.” Dan thinks of Bill’s one shot one kill theorem. He wonders if they are people who have struck out to rid the world of zombies and those who have been bitten. For now, he decides to remain in the darkness. The black SUV blends into the night and is completely invisible to the folks at the little house.

  The three males are leading the girl to the truck. She clearly isn’t fond of the idea. The closer they get her to it, the more she struggles against them. She has blond hair and might be attractive if her face wasn’t set in such a grimace of terror and anger. She grits her teeth as she strains to get free. Her foot shoots out and catches the smaller man of the group in his testicles.

  The man doubles over for a few seconds. He rights himself and slaps her hard across her face. Dan can tell he is the leader of the pack. He points to the ground and his cronies lay the girl out, holding her down.

  “What can I do, Jack?” Dan asks the slumbering infant in a whisper. “I’m not a cop.”

  “True.” He responds as if he hears the child speaking. “But, one false move risks our lives. I really don’t have time for this.”

  When Dan whispers that last statement he imagines hearing Jack speak in his head. “They are laying her bare ass in the snow so they can rape her. Do you think she gives a fuck what time it is?”

  “Good point. It’s the right thing to do. Cover me.”

  The leader of the small gang is unzipping his pants. The lady on the ground is moving her pelvis trying to squirm free. The heavy weights have her pinned to the driveway by her wrists and ankles.

  Dan takes aim at the guy with the assault rifle. The cross hairs are centered on his head, and then his head becomes surrounded by a fine pink mist. He falls to the snow.

  The leader is searching the darkness for whoever fired the shot, but can’t see past the pool of light the house casts onto the white ground. He fires a pistol blindly into the night. His breath is a visible cloud that tells Dan just how scared he is. Good, Dan thinks. You should be scared.

  The leader looks to his remaining buddy for help, another shot rings out and he falls just like the other. The collapsing body lands on top of the girl. She scrambles out from under the behemoth and runs back into her home. The last one standing holds his gun out trying desperately to see a target.

  “And, the cheese stands alone.” He can hear the night air tell him. It also gives him a direction to point his large weapon. It is too late. A flash and he is on the ground, screaming in pain. His shoulder burns, he has no idea where his gun has gone. The pistol is lost in the snow. He brushes his good arm around in the cold, white fluff trying to find it. Headlights blind him and his arm is needed to shield his eyes.

  A figure appears, eclipsing the white glow of the vehicle. He walks towards the fallen man. The friendless thug’s ankle is taken into the shadow man’s dark hands. He is dragged away from any hope of finding his precious hand gun, closer to the unseen car.

  Dan wants the man to see him when he does whatever he is going to do. He isn’t even sure what it is just yet. The headlights illuminate something that really makes Dan mad.

  From behind the truck, amid the shadow it casts, he sees them. Dan recognizes two faces that will never recognize him again. Chains are wrapped around the necks of the middle-aged couple from the Winnebago. Their clothes are in tatters, the flesh below looks like it had a run in with a belt sander. These fuckers dragged my friends, Dan realizes. What he doesn’t know is if it had occurred before, or after they had died.

  “I’m sorry,” Dan tells the couple who reach for him. The tether that binds them to the rear bumper keeps them just passed an arm’s length. “You didn’t deserve this.”

  Dan fires a round into their heads from his .38 then walks around the back of the truck to release the chains. He wishes he had waited to put them down. He pictures himself holding their chains and using them like attack dogs. He would love to have let them tear that bastard apart.

  From the truck Dan finds something even better for him. His uncle had told him once that hunters of large game like to butcher their kill in the field. They use vegetable oil to lubricate brand new chain saws, instead of the usual non-edible variety. He pulls the string as he walks back to the would-be rapist.

  The wounded man cradles his injured arm, still searching the area for his weapon. The sound of the chainsaw roaring to life gives him a terrified pause. Without a word from his assailant the whirling blade is approaching him now. His hands go to his face as if they can protect him.

  Dan lets the saw idle as he places his foot to the man’s chest and forces him to the ground.

  “Every thanksgiving my wife and I roast a turkey together.” Dan tells him over the loud power tool. “We always love doing that thing with the wishbone. You know, when you and someone else make a wish and snap it… She always wins. I’ve often wondered if humans have wishbones. Perhaps, all animals possess these magical bones… Do you have one?”

  The man can’t speak. He is so afraid the white snow around him turns yellow. The yellow tinge spreads to meet the splatters of red that dot the once pure and undisturbed plane.

  The rapist curls into a fetal position as the blade comes closer and closer. He braces for the pain. He has seen what that thing can do to flesh; it vaporizes muscle and bone in a line about a half an inch wide. He used it to dismember elk, deer, and bear. The saw cuts like a laser.

  His eyes are squeezed shut, but he can feel the air being disturbed close to his face. The whirling blade makes the air hot and the motor is deafening. The roaring saw stops suddenly. The silence that falls upon them is palpable. He opens one eye and watches as the man standing before him casts the saw aside.

  “The answer is no.” The camouflaged figure tells him. “Humans don’t have wishbones… That I know of. I think it might just be a bird thing. I do have one more question for you.”

  Dan waits for some sign that he is being heard, none is forthcoming.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” The soldier asks through tightly clenched teeth, while kicking the man in his face. “It’s not just you, but all people like you. Don’t we have enough to worry about, such as…I don’t know…Zombies? We shouldn’t have to worry about each other.”

  Dan allows himself to calm down. He allows what he has just said to sink into the thick skull this man possesses.

  “I just wanted you to feel the fear that young lady must have felt. I’m not going to cut you,”

  Relief washes through the raider. His body relaxes in
to the snow. He opens his eyes to look at the man who taught him the lesson.

  “But, I can’t let you live.” The words sound ominous as he looks into the barrel of a large caliber gun. Before he can protest, or even flinch, he is gone.

  Dan can’t look at the mess he just made of the guy’s head. His world just feels better not having a man like that in it. He tucks Ryan’s large revolver back into his pants. Dan recovers the gun the thug had lost in the snow. It’s a nice nickel plated Beretta. Mr. Winnebago’s I believe. He gathers the saw and the pump shotgun and takes the items to his car. Jack is fussing inside, awoken by the gunfire.

  “I’ll just be a minute, Jack-in-the-box.” He tells the boy. Dan wants to do this quick before the girl comes out of her house to talk to him. It isn’t that he doesn’t want acknowledgement for his good deed. He just doesn’t want to exchange names. Everyone Dan has met these past couple, agonizing days has either died or gone away except for Jack.

  He is in the cab of the truck. Inside he locates a tackle box full of ammo. He pockets what he needs and leaves all of the AK-47 rounds

  “My lucky day.” He says when he finds a pack of cigarettes. He hasn’t had a smoke in a while. He can’t bring himself to light up with Jack around, judging him. He smokes happily as he opens the glove compartment. There is a map of the area. Perfect, he thinks to himself.

  Behind the wheel Dan scribbles on the folded packet of paper with a pen he found in the ashtray. He removes the keys from the ignition and heads to the front door with the AK-47 over his shoulder. He makes fresh tracks through the bloody snow and notices more is starting to fall around him.

  The flakes are enormous, the kind you can hear hitting the ground if you stay very quiet. They are too heavy to float down weightlessly, these flakes drop like bricks.

  As he approaches the door he sees a curtain fall into place. She’s been watching. Dan figures he has scared the hell out of her. He drops the map, keys and rifle off at the front stoop and simply walks away. He flicks his cigarette into the darkness before entering the SUV. Dan pulls back onto the main road.