by catt dahman
In a few days, Polly was no better and no worse.
“I think we should try the hospital, maybe find a way in. Maybe there’s someone who can help.”
Deanna dreaded the thought of being around new people. She looked at Polly and shivered. Josh always said ‘we’, and he talked as if they were a team; it was enough to make her panic. She was used to him now.
But Deanna decided they would try, for Polly.
25
Visions
Kim gathered a few people together that Maryanne had requested, Beth, Hagan, Len, Mark, and Bryan. He said Maryanne wanted to see only those in her room for something important. Julia and Misty were already waiting for them.
“Hi, Maryanne, how’re you feeling?”
“Good, now. I wanted to speak to all of you, but this is really difficult.”
“Take your time, then,” Len said.
“When all this had happened, Maryanne had a real bad feeling about things. The bomb had been a shock, but not a huge surprise,” Misty explained.
“And Sally said that with Maryanne being blind, there was just no way she could have made it through all that rubble and gotten here safely; it had been near impossible, but she did it,” Julia pointed out.
“Okay,” Len admitted, “Maryanne, you are pretty amazing.”
“You’ll think I’m crazy when I start talking, but things are bothering me. I have some strong feelings about things, and I feel I should tell you.”
“Well, give it a try.”
“The last few weeks, I’ve seen...in my head I mean…this huge light. It made me feel really scared, and I didn’t know what it could be. I think it was the bomb going off. There was nothing I could do, and I didn’t know when it would happen, but I think that I saw the bomb before it happened.”
“Okay,” Len let her talk.
“Toni described all of you to me; some of you heard that.” They laughed. “But when you are around, I focus on your voice, where you are standing, the heat of your bodies, and scents.”
She went around the room, pointing out where each sat or stood. “See? But in my head, you are all lights and colors to me. I see you not as people and bodies, but as lights and colors; it sounds weird, but it’s how I can keep up with many people and how I perceive them.”
“That kind of makes sense,” Beth said.
Maryanne smiled, “You are a deep green, Beth.”
“Oh, is that good or bad?”
“Good. Green is earthy and strong, no fakeness, like an emerald.” She turned to Kim, “And you are a deep sapphire blue. You walk alone mostly, but you have a true heart and are a searcher. Bryan is yellow-green.”
“A coward?” he groaned.
“No.” Maryanne laughed again. “Hagan is blue but with purple; that is his spiritual side, and Misty is blue with some green in there; she’s changing and becoming bluer, like Mark, matching his color. Len, you are yellow-gold. A leader, but with pain deep inside and you have an important role to play one day.”
“What about Roy?” Kim asked what they all were curious about. Beth wondered about Donna, too, but didn’t ask in front of everyone.
“Dirty brown and not much light, all his people have that.”
“Sounds right to me,” Mark said.
“Maryanne, your other senses are stronger, right? To make up for your lack of sight?” Len asked.
“Yes. Sometimes I get other pictures in my head such as snapshots of people, things I wouldn’t normally know.”
“Is that like ESP?” Misty asked.
“No. I don’t know. It’s little pictures…snips of ideas…things I know about all of you.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
Maryanne turned to Hagan, “Like your mom wanting you to be a doctor? She was a nanny.” He flopped back in his chair, jaw open.
“Thunderhead? Thunder something…he took something away from you,” she said to Beth.
Beth went pale. “Thunderheart. The horse that threw my fiancée.”
“Misty, your sister had a terrible surgery right before Red. Len, a friend, no…fellow worker…military friend…someone died of a brain problem.”
Misty nodded, thinking about her sister’s abortion. Len sat back, and he nodded as well. “Brain aneurism in boot camp.”
“Okay, I believe,” Kim said, and the rest agreed. It wasn’t something that they could understand, but Maryanne knew things she could never have known, and they had no choice but to take her seriously.
“I don’t peek around in people’s heads. There are just flashes I get,” Maryanne told them, “and I can’t tell fortunes or predict the future or do party tricks.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather believe in magic; it gives me hope,” Beth said.
Julia agreed, “Me, too, magic sounds nice.”
“I have the feeling Roy won’t let things go,” Maryanne said.
Len chuckled, “I’m not psychic, and I feel the same.”
“Just be aware, and if I tell you something, please don’t doubt me, but trust I know something?” Maryanne asked. They said they would believe her. Katie and Toni came running into the room for her attention now.
26
More Struggles
“Len,” Conner came barreling in, “we have a problem.”
“We always do,” Len mused.
Close to the sealed lobby doors, the black man whom they had seen drinking beer from his bottle in the paper bag days before, was holding Bridget close to his body, poking at her side with a pocket knife as he giggled madly.
She looked scared to death.
“He won’t tell us his name or what he’s doing,” Conner said.
“Let me go.” Bridget squirmed.
“Stay still. We have this,” Len said. Roy and his people stood watching. The strange man had grabbed her as they had walked by in a group. Len approached him and said, “Why don’t you let Bridget go? You’re scaring her.”
He cackled, eyes far away and mind gone. The man motioned them back as he fumbled to open the doors to the pharmacy, despite everyone’s yelling for him not to go outside.
Bridget cried, screaming for help and begging him to let her go.
As he slipped through the opening, pulling Bridget with him, Juan tackled Bridget, yanking her to safety. They went down in a lump.
Burned, torn and chewed, bleeding and infected hands reached inside as the zeds began to moan and hiss. Although the black man batted back at them, he fell into the arms of the zeds. They tore at his skinny arms with their teeth, scraping his bones as they crunched; one ripped off his ear, sucking at the gristle. He was lost as two zeds fell on him, dragging him to the ground, chewing and ripping wildly.
Juan kept rolling, pulling Bridget further away as Roy reached to grab her.
Len, Mark, and Kim shot at the creatures that kept pushing at the doors, widening the gap. Bryan, Conner, Beth, Julia, and the rest, moved into place to hold them back.
Len gagged as the heads popped open with wet slops of partially cooked brains and chunks of jellied black blood. The zeds always smelled horrible, but these had been burned when the bomb hit, and the under-scent of burned flesh and burned decomposition was ten times as bad.
So that they would have better shots, they kicked at the zeds with their boots, causing them to tumble down, one over another. They shot the man in his head as he got up, eyes milky, torn to the bone in places, drooling, as he joined their ranks. It was the fastest turn they had ever witnessed.
Roy was yelling, “Close the doors.”
“Not with them out there,” Julia screamed at him, “get out of the way, useless hijo de perro.”
She moved in as Alpha team began to move out into the pharmacy, instinctually working as a team. Julia and Bravo team held at the doorway, then moved to the left to help. Charlie and Delta stood in the doorway. No one would get past them.
Len’s team suddenly lunged forward into the midst, kicking back zeds and blowing them apart. Bravo
rushed into place, and body parts and fluids flew. Len and Mark walked backwards, with something behind them, towards the door, yelling for Sally. “Intake, Intake, intake,” he yelled back, continuing to fire.
A lucky zed, coming too close, grabbed for Diane, snagging her shirt. Her son, Mike, and Jeff fired simultaneously into its head, seeing teeth and flesh flying backwards.
Johnny pulled Julia to the side to take out a zed whose skin was eaten away to the bone on its skull; she fired point blank. Earl came by, making a head shot each time, pulverizing them as he went, cursing them in anger.
“About clear here,” Bryan finally yelled. His nerves were jumping from the terrible smell of the burned walking dead and the sheer number that kept coming, their infernal moans and slobbering noises sickening. His team seemed especially angry, shooting the zeds and then with fury, destroying their head, even stomping on some and kicking at them.
To one side, Big Bill roared and then swung his machete that he grabbed from his back, aiming it right at the hand he held against a wall. Crack. His finger flew off in a bloody stream, and he grimaced. Beth yanked her bandana out and wrapped his hand, pointing to the door.
“He’s bit; he’s not coming in?” Paul sputtered.
“Scratched. But I have their blood on me,” Big Bill stated.
“That’s a no go,” Roy said madly.
Juan pulled Big Bill by him, “He lopped his own finger off; give it a rest, and see if it works.”
“I agree,” Sally said as she and three other figures in dark clothing, plus Big Bill, went down to medical.
“Different rules for different people,” Paul said bitterly.
Thurman glared, “That’s about enough. Save it.”
“Clear,” Len yelled.
Kim and Bryan called the same back.
The area was littered with bodies, intestines snaking in grey-blues, open and stinking while blood pooled in black puddles and brains and flesh oozed. The stink of pus and burned flesh surrounded them. Soon several had vomited.
They came back and closed the doors.
Beth told Len about Big Bill. Len was glad they had saved Bridget, even if he had told Roy they wouldn’t help him or his crew. Doc came out and said Sally was still checking people over. “Anyone hurt out here?”
No one was injured.
“How about our newcomers and Big Bill?”
Sally is getting him cleaned up and stitched right now. The three are uninjured: a sixteen-year-old, a fourteen-year-old, and her sister, a seven-year- old. Male, female, and female.”
“Those things may have been following them, but we already have a horde at the door, it seems,” Kim said, “glad we got the kids…and Bridget.”
“Does anyone really know that man?”
“Don’t think so; he kept to himself and never spoke.”
“Maybe he was crazy; that’s horrible,” Beth said.
George looked sad, “More and more are going to go crazy; the world doesn’t make sense anymore.”
“Like the raiders?”
“Them, too. Some are just evil people and are dancing on the graveyard of the world, enjoying the spoils. Some are neutral or were good people, but they lost their minds with all this…a constant nightmare they can’t awaken from.”
“I feel crazy half the time,” Hagan said.
“Yes, I know what you mean,” George agreed.
Beth, Johnny, Julia, and Alex were ready to sleep. In their room, Julia snapped off the light and asked, “Do you think we’re all going crazy?”
“Yep. I know I am,” Johnny told them.
“Maryanne told me earlier, the strangest thing; she said my brother was still alive. He’s a doctor. How would she know he’s a doctor when I never even talked about him? That is crazy.”
“Do you believe it, Beth?”
“Yes, I do, Alex. That is crazy, isn’t it?”
“No crazier than anything I’ve seen or done lately,” Julie said.
“Hangin’ on by a thread.” Alex turned over to sleep.
27
Evil
For the last few days, everything had been almost peaceful. Len’s teams and Base had done admirably, clearing out the rest of the hotel floors to add supplies and searching more places.
Before it was over run, they cleared out the pharmacy area a few times as well, and without incident. From what she heard, the militia teams were doing well, especially with the new additions that had been trained.
Maryanne awoke.
She had been sleeping deeply but now was wide awake; listening to Toni’s slight snoring. Had she had a nightmare? She tried to remember but was blank. The dark was heavy. Cloying. Trying to relax, she felt her legs quiver, her heart pound, and her breath go ragged. She was like a child scaring herself with a boogieman in the closet.
Her hands were in tight fists as she shivered; was she getting sick? Sleepiness gnawed at her, and she knew, if she fell asleep, something terrible would happen.
It’s coming.
She sat up. Oh, God, it was terrible, and it was almost there. Limbs like ice, she got to her feet, knowing she shouldn’t wake Toni, but unsure of where the door was. Think, she ordered herself. She had to get to Roy’s hallway. It was coming, and it was death.
In the side lobby, many couldn’t sleep that night and didn’t know why.
Kim relaxed, listening to Hagan and Benny debate politics. Diane, her son, Mike, along with Bryan, and all of Bravo were on guard duty. Jeff traded off with Chauncey. They walked the halls.
Beth had gotten up, unable to sleep but a few hours and was braiding Misty’s hair while Mark watched. After a peaceful week, they were somehow nervous and jumpy again. Maybe they had drunk too much coffee; she felt wired.
Some of them went toward where Roy’s group was to check things.
“Time to walk Roy’s hall,” Bryan said, “should be fast and easy, and before anyone warns me, I’ll keep my mouth shut and temper checked.”
“I’ll come along and make sure.” Beth joined them. “Mike’s been doing better lately, and I wanna see him in action doing his guard duty.”
“Mark is with us; I’ll behave.”
“You think I feel better knowing that?”
Bryan laughed, “I heard Big Bill skunked you on target practice today.” He stopped walking and looked at Beth.
“He did,” Beth admitted. She was still amazed and thankful the man had shown no symptoms of being ill. She said she would be along soon and stopped to check on Sally.
“I’ll wait,” he said, lighting a cigarette.
Then they heard the yelling. “See, it wasn’t my fault,” Bryan said.
“I see that.”
“Go get Hagan and Len and whomever else you can find,” Bryan yelled as Beth took off the way they had come. Her boots thumped as she ran.
Maryanne?
She finally found the door, slipped out, and managed the hall towards where she knew Roy’s group was.
The area was laid out in a box formation. Maryanne walked in a door, falling on her rear, but getting up, and trying again as panic rose. Trying to save time, she cut across an open area, slamming her knee into a low table; she stumbled backwards, falling, ripping two of her nails to the quick, and rolling to her back in pain.
It was easier to give up. But ‘it’ was almost there. Minutes. And she didn’t know what ‘it’ was, just that whatever ‘it’ was, ‘it’ was evil, and if she didn’t get there in time, death would win. She was seeing horrible images, and she was already too late to help some.
She sobbed.
‘It’ was here.
In the hall, Bryan ran toward the fight where he saw someone on the floor and Paul swinging a board over him like a bat. Had the zeds gotten in? Johnny was to one side, holding her arm, trying to help Diane who was down with Steve kicking her; Mike lunged for Paul. It wasn’t a zed on the ground by Johnny, but was Mark being pounded.
What the hell was happening?
Paul
brought the board up to swing at Johnny, and she kicked at him, getting his shin. He side stepped, groaning, and hit Mike, making Diane and the boy yell. “Leave my son alone,” Diane screamed. She hit back.
Kim flew out of nowhere, rushing in to protect Mike, but Paul got lucky again with a swipe, cracking it into Kim’s rib and arm. A man slammed a pipe into the same spot, driving Kim to the ground.
Bryan tackled Paul.
Roy and a man named Danny, kicked at Mark, who rolled to one side. Roy grabbed another board and hit Mark to keep him down.
“Put it down,” Kim yelled. Someone hit Bryan in the back of the head, and he slumped. They were losing this fist fight, and it was about to go to the guns.
“Check fire,” Bryan shouted as dizziness and blackness threatened to suck him down.
Johnny reached for her gun but was kicked again; she curled up and turned turtle to protect herself. Cheap bastards had made a surprise attack, and without guns, the militia wasn’t shit. She moaned.
Beth saw Maryanne as she ran back with Hagan and Len. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
“It’s here. He’s here,” Maryanne said.
“What?”
“Bryan.” Maryanne was shouting now, confusing Beth who was trying to get to the rest and help. She winced as if she had been struck, clutching her head and ribs with a bloody hand.
“You want Bryan?
“No. We have to help, or he’ll die.”
“Bryan?”
“No.” Maryanne stomped her foot. “Kim. He’ll die. Hurry.”
There was a wild fist fight, people on the floor being kicked, injured people crawling, people darting in to kick or use boards to do damage, and people rolling around, throwing punches. Beth tried to make sense of the chaos and saw only random people hitting each other in the dim light. Roy’s crew had used pipes and boards to fight with, and it wasn’t a fair fight.
A gunshot almost deafened her.
Three men stood, grinning and showing tattoos, dressed in jeans and flannel shirts, holding assault rifles and sporting narrowed, cold eyes. No one moved.