by T. W. Brown
I was a shot of whisky away from knocking the crap out of a teenaged boy, yelling at a teenaged girl, and shooting a six-year-old boy in the head. Was this really the world I was trying to survive in? Fuck it, I just want to go to sleep and try to catch a few hours shut-eye before Dave wakes me for my watch.
The scream tore me from sleep. The worst part of waking that way is how hard it is to orient yourself on just exactly what the hell is happening. A second scream. This one sounded eerily familiar. My mind converted to a scream-Rolodex. I knew that sound, I heard it—
“Thalia!” I was fighting my way out of the sleeping bag, opening the driver’s side door, and pulling a nine-inch Buck knife from a sheath all at once.
I knew that movement was happening all around me. Everybody had been asleep. It was very dark under the canopy of trees, and there sure as hell wasn’t a fire burning in this campsite. Somebody was thinking clearly, because one of the Hummers at my back had all of its lights—headlights, fog-lights, and searchlight—on in a flood of brilliance that momentarily blinded me. I heard a thud and grunt.
The scream sounded again, to my left. I stumbled twice, not daring to stop, but still unable to see.
“Thalia!” I screamed again. Dread and helplessness poured into my gut and started churning. My eyes adjusted, and what I saw made me cold to the core. Matt had Thalia pinned to the ground. His mouth was open wide and covered in blood. Thalia had both tiny hands on his throat, trying desperately to keep his teeth from clamping down on her face.
I sprinted, adjusting my approach at the last second, bringing my booted foot—yes, I sleep with my boots on these days, doesn’t everybody?—up and into the ribs of the small Matt-zombie, sending it flying. It landed on its back, oblivious to the assault, and began struggling to its feet. I stalked over, stomped down on its chest, wanting to but unable to enjoy the sound of the sternum cracking, and with a downward thrust, drove the blade into one malignant eye. The blade went all the way through, pinning the now motionless corpse to the ground.
I swallowed hard. The tears were already filling my eyes. No, she wasn’t my real daughter, but she may as well be. I’d come to love that child just like she was my own.
“Papi?” a sobbing voice called.
I didn’t even turn around. I knew that what I would see was going to damage my very soul. Especially since, in a lot of ways, it was my fault. I’d made a command decision and it was wrong. Taking as deep of a breath as possible and wiping my eyes, I turned around.
Thalia still lay on her back. She had blood all over her pink sweatshirt, her arms, her hands. A sick feeling grew and I wanted to throw up. Not from the sight of blood, but from the sight of my little girl only minutes, perhaps hours, from undeath. I realized with a sudden jolt that this was my first actual experience with loss related to this whole nightmare. The little girl I’d sworn to protect with my life had been betrayed by the adult in her life that she’d come to trust completely.
“Papi?” She raised her arms, reaching out to me.
I shook myself free of my self-pity and ran to her side. Scooping her up in my arms, I was momentarily embarrassed by the fact that I had examined her forehead before kissing it.
“Thalia,” I sobbed, then choked it back. She needed me to show strength, the trait I’d obviously been lacking up to this point.
“Te amo, Papi,” she whispered. “Siento. Siento.”
“What?” I pulled back. “Sweetie, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“My blanket,” Thalia said.
“You want your blanket?” I stood.
“No,” Thalia shook her head. I looked at her, she’d stopped crying. “I gave it to Matt.”
“And that’s when he bit you,” I whispered. Now it was even more assuredly my fault. Had I just let her—
“No,” Thalia squirmed in my grip, “he didn’t bite me.”
What? Now I was confused. She wasn’t aware enough to comprehend how the infection was spread, was she? She wasn’t lying to save her skin. Then what the hell?
A low moan off to my right and in the shadow of some bushes yanked my attention from Thalia. I could make out a pair of legs, and something dark hunched over them. Setting Thalia down, I moved. For the first time, I was aware that my whole group was standing a few yards away, clustered together. The light was at their backs, but I heard a few sniffles.
They knew.
The newcomers were in another group, and I could see them shifting anxiously. They wanted to go to the body of the child, Matt, and see for themselves. But they didn’t want to move towards me, the man standing with the blood of his little girl all over him, blood spilled by one of their own.
The moan sounded again, and was echoed by a…whimper? My focus returned to the dark form hunched over in the shadows and the pair of legs.
“Somebody aim the searchlight!” I pointed in the direction, then retrieved my knife. I heard a few gasps from the newcomers, and somebody started crying. I didn’t care.
The searchlight swept over, chasing the shadows away and revealing a new horror. One of the women from the newcomers looked up, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Its mouth. Most of the throat of this thing had been torn out. Its shirt had been ripped away and hung in tatters around its waist. One breast had been eaten away and was no more than a crimson smear. It held an arm, Dave’s arm, in its hands. A single tear just below the elbow was a wellspring of red liquid.
Dave was also bleeding from his forehead, but not from a bite. The huge swelling told the story. Hadn’t I heard a ‘thud’ and somebody cry out or something while I was blinded? He was stirring. I moved fast, the thing paid me no mind as it leaned in for another bite. I plunged the blade into its temple and it fell over, still clutching Dave’s arm.
Dave began to stir, making soft pain noises. He wasn’t dead. Yet. He was in my shadow, but I could see his face. I glanced over my shoulder. Thalia stood, alone, shunned by the others it seemed. The group of people who’d allowed me to lead them for the most part hadn’t moved. I couldn’t see a single face, only dark outlines, but I could see the angle of their heads. They were fixed on Thalia. Looking at the other group, some of them had inched closer to Matt’s prone, lifeless corpse. Still, they were hesitant, and now another of their number lay dead on the ground at my hands.
A soft moan brought me back to Dave. His eyes were flickering. I glanced at the bump, the rip on his arm. Kneeling beside him, I saw his eyes struggle to open, his face contorted in pain.
“Dave?” I whispered, and placed my hand over his mouth. I knew he wasn’t dead—or undead—yet. “Thalia’s been bitten.”
His eyes opened and I saw the pain, but I knew it wasn’t for Thalia, it was for himself. For the bite on his arm. That made me even angrier.
“I want you to know,” I whispered low enough so that only he could hear, “that while I must accept the blame for making the decision, this is your fault.”
I brought the blade up, his eyes widened in fear and realization, and stayed wide even after the knife plunged into one of them, through his orbital socket, brain, and out the back of his skull. Unlike the female I’d killed, or the child, little Matt, Dave kicked and flailed. Just for a second or two.
I stood, leaving the blade jutting from Dave’s face, and returned to Thalia. She was standing quietly, tiny sobs escaping her. She was watching the newcomers now clustered around Matt. I scooped her into my arms, noticing for the first time that her blanket was wadded up on the ground next to the stump I’d been sitting on while eating my dinner.
“Everybody load up,” I barked making both groups jump.
“But—” a voice came from my group, but I was too pissed to recognize whose.
“Get the fuck in the vehicles or your ass gets left behind,” I snarled, shoving past them.
I heard a scattering of people. There were whispers and mumbles, but I just didn’t care. They wanted me to make decisions? Then they wanted to
bitch if they didn’t like it. Well, somebody better take charge or we were fucked ten ways to Sunday. From now on, I’d make decisions, and whoever didn’t like it was free to leave. Paul Wimmer and Randall Smith had known that. And who the hell had I been to doubt or question? Infected folks were put down. Period. My inability to see that had cost me…dearly.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, Thalia in my lap. I’d have at least a few hours. As soon as we found a new spot—all the lights and activity here would bring something sooner or later—I’d see if I could get her to go to sleep. I’d try it then. Only, I really didn’t know if I was gonna be able to do it until after she turned.
Bodies piled in, but I paid no attention to who had joined me in this vehicle. I turned off the lights, plunging us all into darkness. It took a few moments for my night vision to adjust. I was very aware of the tiny figure on my lap as it moved slightly, seeming to snuggle in close. I had one arm around her, partially just to hold her, but also, it let me feel her body expand and contract with each breath.
We drove out from under the canopy of trees and into a sky filled with stars. The half-moon sat low, adding just a tad more ambient light to drive by. I was aware Dr. Zahn was in the passenger’s seat. I could feel her eyes on me. Whether they were due to the child in my lap, or the man laying back at our abandoned camp with the handle of my Buck knife sticking out of his face, I didn’t know. Nor did I care.
A thud echoed through the Hummer as I smashed a figure that stumbled into our path. I saw others slowly climbing the ridge. They were coming to where we’d camped just as I knew they would. I made no attempt to dodge or avoid any that crossed into our path.
I drove, my eyes scanning for a new place. Eventually I spied a gravel turn-off and took it. I noticed the shift in breathing coming from Thalia. She’d drifted off. Slowing to a crawl, I made out something in the gradually lightening sky: a tower. It was one of the forest fire lookout towers common out in these sparsely populated, brush and forest dense areas of the state. I’d done enough hiking and camping over the years to have an idea what to expect.
A half an hour later, we pulled into a clearing at the base of the tower. This one was big. It rose at least fifty feet and sat atop a base of four tree-trunk thick wooden stilts. A ladder ascended, ending at a trapdoor that would open to a narrow walkway that went all the way around the outside. I had already made out intact windows. This was actually an ideal spot for now. I guessed the enclosed space above to be thirty feet by thirty feet. That was more than enough room for our group.
Nobody said a word as I shut off the engine and opened the door. I climbed out and Thalia woke enough to shift position and wrap her arms around my neck. Without being prompted, everybody began the climb. Emily stopped beside me and looked at Thalia.
“Is Thalia gonna turn into one of the monsters like Matt?” she asked with blunt, childlike innocence.
“C’mon, Emily,” Teresa whispered as she stepped up and guided the girl away by the shoulders.
I blinked back the tears, biting the inside of my cheek to keep them at bay. One by one, everybody disappeared through the trapdoor until only Thalia, Dr. Zahn, and I remained.
“I have some morphine in my bag,” Dr. Zahn whispered. “If you give her enough, she simply won’t wake back up.”
I handed Thalia to her. I couldn’t speak around the lump growing in my throat. I could barely see around all the tears.
“Papi,” Thalia mumbled, stirring, but not waking.
The back door to the Hummer was still open and Dr. Zahn ducked inside and lay the limp form of my little girl on one of the backseats. She went around to the front passenger’s side and grabbed her bag. Without realizing it, I’d taken a few steps back. There was no way I could watch.
Dr. Zahn gave me one last sorrowful glance and disappeared inside the vehicle. I stumbled back another step and fell on my ass. How could I have failed so completely? I put my head in my hands and wept. I’d kept it inside as long as I could. Tears poured and my body shook. Every part of me ached.
“Steve?” Dr. Zahn had finished at some point and stood beside me.
I looked up. The sun had risen and its soft glow was lighting her face. She was smiling! How the hell could she—
“Come.” She extended a hand down.
“I’m not ready to see her yet,” I managed around the sobbing that felt like it may never stop.
“Get up,” she insisted.
Act like a goddamned leader, the voice in my head barked. I stood, refusing the offered hand, and brushed myself off. It’s not over, I reminded myself. There was still the matter of ensuring that my little girl wouldn’t get back up. I couldn’t expect the doctor to do everything.
Looking in the back, I saw a wad of bloody rags. At least Dr. Zahn had been decent enough to clean her up and put her in different clothes. I saw the tiny chest rise and fall!
“How long?” I asked, turning to the woman standing just back a step.
“No idea,” Dr. Zahn shrugged, “she’s clean, Steve.” The words hung in the air, but made no sense to me. “Not a bite, nick, or scratch.”
“How…” I had no words, just new tears.
“None of that blood was hers.”
“But—”
“I’ll monitor her to see if she perhaps ingested any or whatever other really remote possibility exists that she was contaminated,” Dr. Zahn was back to speaking in her normal, clinical manner, “but Thalia is fine as far as I can tell.”
Whoa, it’s getting dark.
“Steve?” a voice from far away called.
Something horrid and unpleasant filled my sinuses. I coughed and a fresh pain bloomed in my skull. My eyes flickered, then squeezed shut, offended by the brilliance of the sun.
“Steve?” that voice called again. This time from right beside me.
I squinted, and a shadow fell over my eyes. Dr. Zahn was shielding them from the sun with her hands. I looked up into her stoic face, which held for all of a few seconds before laughter came. At first a giggle, then, outright laughing. I tried to sit up, but the pain in my skull reminded me that perhaps I should stay still for another minute.
“Papi?” a small voice said cautiously.
“Thalia?” I rolled my eyes towards the sound of the voice. A dark shadow floated across my vision…then, two bony knees found the center of my solar plexus, driving the wind from me in a rush.
Little hands grabbed my face and I felt a kiss on both my cheeks, then my top lip. Delicate arms wrapped around my neck and a damp cheek pressed to mine. Raven black hair fell across my eyes, blinding me once more.
“Let him get his breath, child,” Dr. Zahn said, and I felt the nearly weightless body start to lift off of me. The arms around my neck gripped tighter.
“S’okay,” I wheezed and returned the hug I was being given.
“Our fearless leader fainted,” Dr. Zahn said in a very uncharacteristic sing-song voice.
“Rub it in,” I said, squeezing Thalia tighter. “I don’t care.”
“Yes, well,” there was that serious, clinical voice again, “I need to check you out. You’re bleeding and I need to clean it so it doesn’t get infected. Also, I’m gonna bet you have a least a slight concussion.”
I didn’t care. Thalia was okay. Also, I’d learned some very valuable lessons. About life. Death. Leadership. And most of all, there is no room for error if somebody is infected.
After a few more minutes, Dr. Zahn insisted that Thalia get up so that she could check my injury. I caught the doctor smirking a few times. I also saw something else in her eyes and knew we’d have to deal with it sooner or later: Dave.
While she cleaned and bandaged my head, I replayed that moment. Had I been fair blaming him for my decision? He was saying a lot of things that I felt but hadn’t expressed. I hadn’t been in favor of the execution—there really is no nice way to put it—of people who were infected. But last night, I’d seen why it was important. Instead
of one dead child, we’d lost a woman I didn’t know, a man who had been a valuable member of our group, and almost another child.
There were going to be some changes. I doubted that everybody would like them. That would be the first change. Nobody was making anybody stay. I would need to be very clear as to how things were going to operate and inform everybody that those who didn’t like it were free to go.
“I don’t understand why we can’t simply stay right here.” Sunshine gestured to the large, open room that was the observation tower.
“You can,” I said, trying to keep my voice level and non-confrontational. “However, my objective is to find someplace that can be converted into an actual place to live.”
“What’s wrong with right here?” an older man easily in his fifties, Lawrence Tynes, asked.
“No readily accessible water source.” I began ticking off the points on my fingers. “No room for expansion if we find others. No emergency exit if the zombies find it—”
“What others?” Lawrence snapped. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s unlikely we’ll encounter that many other people out here.”
“Same thoughts I had until we risked our asses rescuing you people,” Barry snorted.
Suddenly everybody was talking, arguing, shouting over one another. There was finger-pointing, finger-waving, and just the plain old finger. I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut at the sudden outburst of volume. This was the third outburst in the ten short minutes we’d been discussing things. I glanced at Dr. Zahn who merely raised an eyebrow at me as if to say, how long are you going to let this continue?