by T. W. Brown
“Yeah?” Cary huffed as he rocked the big metal drum an inch closer with the hand-truck. “Well next time I’ll wrap wires and you move the fifty-gallon drum of kerosene.”
“Deal,” Kevin said, surprising both Mike and Cary.
“You got this?” Heather looked over the top of the blue drum at Cary. She’d been helping keep it stable when they’d been moving across the uneven ground, but ever since they’d reached the asphalt, she wasn’t really doing much.
“Yep,” Cary hissed through clenched teeth as he strained to get the two-wheeled hand-truck to turn slightly right so he could get his payload between the empty trailer and the cab of the big-rig sitting askew in the middle of the road.
Heather let go and stepped back, drawing the machete on her hip. A short, pudgy man with an ugly bite out of one arm and a chunk of his left cheek gone was closing in. Flexing her hands in anticipation of the sting that would come, she gripped the rubberized handle and aimed for the side of the thing’s head. She’d learned that coming down on the top of the head was a really bad idea. The blade dug in, bursting the orbital socket, sending dark jelly spewing. She let go as the body fell, letting it hit the ground before grabbing the handle and wrenching it free.
Two more were close enough to be a concern. Mike was moving in to jab his iron spike-tipped weapon through the face of a naked woman with a braid that swung at the middle of her back like a dead serpent when he tripped over the outstretched arm of a long-since-dead body that was drying and decaying in the sun. His momentum sent him tumbling into the approaching pair. The three were quickly a flurry of arms and legs flying and flopping about. The other zombie was a recent member of Death’s legions, bits and pieces of his insides still slightly moist. A particularly nasty and unidentifiable piece of its insides landed on Mike’s forehead with a wet splat.
Heather hopped over the downed body of her recent kill and lined up a shot on the head of the nude, female zombie. Mike struggled at the bottom of the pile, holding the throat of the jeans-and-tee-shirt clad male with the gaping chest cavity away from him with one hand while swatting desperately at the spongy piece of innard on his face. With an overhead swing, heedless of the stinging sensation that would follow, Heather brought her blade down hard, splitting the female’s skull.
Mike reached for one of the blades on his belt and fumbled to free it. Bringing it up, he plunged it into the mewling, dead face that stared vacantly down at him. The instant disconnect dropped the full weight of the corpse down onto him. He shoved the body away, rolling out from under the pile of dead flesh. He looked over to see Heather shaking both hands in vain to rid them of the buzzing sensation. Kevin and Cary had finished their tasks and were wading into a six-pack of walking death. A bead of sweat dripped into his eye, the sudden burn forcing him to rub it furiously.
A pair of elementary school aged children came around the rear of the semi-trailer. Their hands reaching, dead eyes staring, teeth clicking as their mouths snapped in anticipation of his flesh. Scooping up his iron-spiked zombie killer, Mike charged angrily. He plunged it into first one dead face, then the other. A hand clutched his shoulder as he pulled the weapon free, and he spun to face his newest threat.
“Whoa!” Cary threw up his hands. “Easy, dude!”
“Into the fields,” Kevin called, pointing back to the tall, untended rows of corn that would allow them to slip unseen back to the farmhouse.
Mike looked around in confusion. Several bodies lay scattered about. When had all this happened? he wondered. Everybody was staring at him like he was Satan, or worse, one of those things. He glanced down at the two bodies at his feet. Both had been stabbed repeatedly in the face to the point that no recognizable features remained. His eyes fixated on a single tooth standing out starkly against the black of the asphalt covered road. One of the tiny bodies had nothing more than a nub remaining at the top of its neck.
“C’mon,” Kevin insisted, “before more of those damn things join the party.”
“What about all the bodies?” Heather tore her eyes away from the panting, heaving, crazy-eyed person that only vaguely resembled Mike at the moment.
“Huh?” Kevin paused at the edge of the road, preparing to jump the ditch that ran alongside it and separated the fenced-in refuge of the cornfield.
“If those bad men return,” Heather held out her arms to the widespread carnage at their feet, “won’t they notice this?”
“Shit,” Kevin breathed.
“She’s right.” Cary looked around as if noticing all of the fallen bodies for the first time.
“Into the back of the trailer,” Kevin instructed, and slung his sword over his shoulder into its sheath. “Good catch, Heather.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Only Cary noticed how her face lit up at the praise and the physical contact.
Scurrying about, they lugged the bodies to the open trailer and tossed them inside. A few new members of the undead joined the ranks of the fallen before they’d finished, but finally, they were done. They jumped the ditch and, one at a time, ducked through the barbed wire fence.
Mike hung back just a little as the foursome wove through the corn and back to the house that served as an unlikely sanctuary. He was sweating hard, and all the exertion had him feeling short of breath. Coupled with all the sweating and it was no wonder he was a bit nauseous. The last thing he wanted to do was puke in front of Heather. It was bad enough that the girl had bailed his ass out back there. Then, she’d made the obvious observation about not leaving a bunch of bodies strewn about. He’d been thinking the exact same thing, he just couldn’t get his mouth to work as quick as she had.
“Yo, Mikey!” Cary was trotting back to him up the row. There was no sign of Kevin or Heather. How long had he just been standing there like an idiot?
“S’up?” Mike started walking again. He sure didn’t feel well. His feet felt as if they were encased in lead, his eyes burned, and his stomach was seriously trying to turn itself inside out.
“You okay?” Cary slowed, shielded his eyes and looked up at him with an honest look of concern.
“Just a little dehydrated,” Mike said.
“Well let’s get you some water,” Cary turned, leading the way. “you look like old people fuck.”
“Slow and sloppy!” they said in unison.
“Where’s Mike?” Heather scooted her chair close to the table where Kevin and Cary were already eating ravenously.
“Mmm…” Cary wiped his mouth. “He’s getting a nap. Said he missed out on lunch because he was working on the rabbit snares. All that exertion, he thinks he’s a little dehydrated.”
“Should I bring him something?” Heather started to stand.
“Nope,” Cary reached over and put a hand on her arm, “I think it’s more than dehydration.”
Kevin stopped eating, spoon of tomato soup halfway to his mouth and looked at Cary with raised eyebrows. “Is there a problem?”
“Oh yeah,” Cary nodded and smiled. “He got his ass bailed out of the fire by little Heather here, and it’s got him just a bit sucked up.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, first a slight chuckle out of Cary. Kevin soon followed with a little burst between his lips and a quick snort. Heather looked back and forth between the two, not hiding the disapproving expression growing like the thunder clouds they could see out the window to the north building in the warm summer sky.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Heather said crossing her arms and sinking down in her chair.
“Heather,” Kevin quickly composed himself and reached over, taking one of her hands and pulling it towards him, “we aren’t laughing at you, you did awesome. We’re laughing at Mike because he’s embarrassed that he got saved by a girl.”
Cary wanted to reach over and slap him. Did he have no clue at all. He glanced over at Heather, the look on her face couldn’t be any clearer. He’d taken her hand, complimented her, then called her a girl. And he didn’t ev
en have the slightest clue.
Heather jerked her hand away and shoved back from the table. Her footfalls on the stairs didn’t mask the sounds of weeping.
“Idiot,” Cary hissed. He dropped his spoon on the table and took off in pursuit of the heartbroken teenager.
Kevin sat in silence, at an utter loss. What in the hell just happened? he thought. He’d just done his best to make the girl feel better. He’d complimented her! Well, he wasn’t gonna let his bowl of soup go to waste. He ate. Alone. And he didn’t hate the silence.
Kevin stared outside at the darkness. Heavy rain pelted the window with ferocity as periodic flashes of lightning lit up the sky. Even though he knew it to be nothing more than an old wive’s tale, he slowly counted. One…two…three…four…
BOOM.
“Four miles,” he mumbled. He was a big fan of weather. He loved to watch it snow, or when lightning and thunder joined the meteorological symphony. It was soothing. He’d never been frightened of thunder as a child. It was thrilling.
He remembered sitting on the porch at his house in Hampton Roads when he was growing up. He could watch storms roll through and out to sea. Once, he’d seen lightning hit a tree just a half a block away. Kevin smiled at the memory and turned to leave the bathroom he’d been staring out the window of. He could see the road they’d been out on today putting things in place for his big plan.
Heather was standing in the doorway. Her head hanging, allowing her hair to cascade down over her face. It was dark, so all he could really make out was her silhouette. She shifted slightly from one foot to the other, making Kevin a touch uneasy.
“Heather?” he whispered.
Nothing.
“Heather,” a bit more forcefully. The girl’s head popped up, surprising Kevin in its suddenness and causing him to stumble back. The backs of his legs caught the toilet and he fell hard against the wall, hitting his head.
“Kevin!” Heather squealed, dashing into the bathroom. She leaned down to help him to his feet and her eyes locked onto the dark splotch on the wall. A single drip was running down from the circular splatter stain.
“Heath…Heather?” Kevin blinked his eyes trying to clear his vision.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Umm…what…where…?” Kevin’s voice slurred.
“Can you stand?”
“What the hell is going on?” Cary stormed into the tiny and already crowded bathroom, flashlight in hand. “I heard a noise!”
“I accidentally scared Kevin.” Heather stepped back and to the side to allow the other man in.
“Is that—?”
“Blood,” Heather said.
“Cary?” Kevin seemed to just register the man’s arrival.
“Hey, buddy.” Cary moved in and knelt in front of his friend. He brought up his flashlight, setting it on the toilet seat.
“Is Heather okay?” Kevin’s eyes seemed to drift slowly from side to side like he was searching for something.
“She’s fine, Kev.” Cary didn’t have to see her face to know the girl would be smiling.
“She looked—” Kevin shivered, then closed his eyes.
“He must’ve thought…” Heather’s hand’s came to her mouth.
“That you’d turned,” Cary finished. “Poor bastard.”
“Is he gonna be okay?” Heather glanced nervously at the blood stain sending a solitary drip down the wall.
“Probably have a nasty headache,” Cary shrugged. “If he has a head injury like a concussion, I think you’re not supposed to let them sleep for more than an hour or so for the first day.”
“How come?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Kevin moaned softly. Instinctively, Heather rushed in beside him, edging Cary aside. Cary scooped up his flashlight, flicked it off, and slid it in his back pocket.
“Let’s get him to his feet.” Cary straddled the toilet, bent down and slung one of Kevin’s arms over his shoulder. Heather had to stand with one leg in the bathtub, but she got in position on the other side. “C’mon, buddy,” Cary coaxed as he nodded to Heather, indicating he was ready to help their groggy companion to his feet.
“Where to?” Heather asked as they turned sideways to exit the bathroom.
“I say we go for one of the kid’s rooms,” Cary suggested and turned right. A flash of lightning followed almost instantly by thunder made Heather squeal.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Nothin’ to be ‘fraid of, Ruth,” Kevin mumbled.
“Who’s Ruth?” Heather asked, immediately wishing she hadn’t. Did she really want to know the answer to that question?
“I think it’s one of the Bergmans,” Cary said. Maybe it was time to wean this girl of her Kevin infatuation. “They were the ones that Kevin and Darrin and Mike saved that got abducted by those jerks that keep raiding Heath. The ones Kevin is trying to rescue.”
“Oh,” Heather said with a nod.
Hmm, Cary thought, she took that well. He pushed open the door that led to one of the children’s rooms.
Together, they laid Kevin out on the bed. Heather fussed around him, putting a towel under his head and covering him up to the neck. After, Heather insisted she take first watch. Cary felt something tug in his mind, trying to express why that was a bad idea, but after the day they’d had, he was just too tired. He looked back through the door one last time and watched Heather as she wandered over to the window. Lightning flashed again and he saw her face in the electric-blue light. Heather was smiling.
Cary woke to a dull thud a few feet away from his head. He rubbed his eyes, struggling to wake. It was still dark, but eerily silent.
Thud.
There it was again. Cary realized he didn’t hear the steady thrum of pouring rain, or the thunder. The storm must’ve passed. Yet, it was still dark so he hadn’t been asleep too long. His eyes scanned the darkness for the source of the noise.
Thud.
There it was again. Off to his right, even with his head, but down on the floor. Rolling onto his side, Cary peeked over the edge of the bed. Too dark. Grabbing his flashlight from the nightstand where it sat beside the gun that was the identical match to the one under his pillow, Cary flicked it on and shone it to the floor.
“Fuck!” he screamed and rolled away to the other side of the bed. Reaching under his pillow, Cary forced himself to climb off the bed and ignore the voice in his head that warned of the monsters that had taken residence there in his youth.
A pale hand reached up from the other side and came down, clutching at the wadded up sheets and blankets. Another hand joined the first. Then, a head rose slowly. For some strange reason, Cary was reminded of the scene from It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, when Snoopy’s shadow rose up and caused Linus to faint.
Trying his best to keep his hands steady, Cary saw Mike’s slack, emotionless face in the dull, red beam of his flashlight. The eyes had that tell-tale film of white, shot with the blackness of undeath.
“Oh, Mike,” Cary whispered. Suddenly, he felt Kevin’s pain, reluctance, and sadness.
The creature that had once been Mike opened its mouth and moaned. It began to rise, unsteadily gaining its feet. It reached for Cary and its legs bumped into the bed causing it to stagger. The Mike-zombie looked down at the bed, cocking its head to the side, then, it turned, in slow halting steps and began to shamble alongside the obstacle. A commotion at the door caused it to stop, its head jerked up and to the right at the dark shadow that filled the doorway.
It’d been a couple hours now. Heather walked over to the bed where Kevin lay snoring softly. She brushed one lock of hair away from his forehead. He’d been sleeping peacefully since Cary’d left. Twice she went to the bed and knelt, laying her head on the pillow inches away from his. Once, she worked up the nerve to kiss him gently on the lips. Kevin had mumbled something in his sleep, but she hadn’t been able to tell what it was.
“Kevin,” she whispered, “you need to wake up for a minute.”
He stirred slightly and she repeated herself. She felt his hand close on hers. He muttered something unintelligible again. She leaned down by his face and whispered his name once more.
“Ruth?” he breathed.
That name again, Heather fumed. Who the hell was this person? She became aware that Kevin was pulling her hand trying to bring her close. She looked closely. He wasn’t awake, but he wasn’t technically asleep. Glancing over her shoulder towards the door like she expected Cary or Mike to burst in at any moment and ruin everything, Heather felt her heart start racing.
She felt Kevin’s other arm move weakly, reaching for her. She moved in to his embrace and softly brushed his lips with hers. His mouth opened slightly and she coaxed his tongue to hers. Nestling close, she could feel him kiss her back, second by precious second becoming more assertive. She also felt him begin to stir…against the inside of her thigh. She began to shift her hips slightly.
“Fuck!” a voice yelled from down the hall towards the room they normally all shared. It sounded like Cary.
Heather had started at the sudden sound. Her eyes opened, and even in the dim light, she could see Kevin’s eyes open, not quite focused. He looked confused, then shocked. Dammit, Heather thought just before she felt Kevin’s hands tighten on her arms. For a brief second, she thought he might finally give in. She could feel him against her and knew he was excited. Then, unexpectedly, he pushed her away. Heather landed on the floor in an unceremonious heap.