by Lee, Raymond
She eased into the living room and bit her fist to kill the scream before it could escape. Two filthy infected people were lying on the floor, a man and a woman. They were missing most of their skin and their clothes had been coated in blood. Blood now dripped down their faces like a shroud, the result of Hank’s work with the knife.
A moan came from behind her and Janjai turned to see three infected coming down the stairs toward her.
“Jan, Move!”
She followed her husband’s command and scrambled to get behind him, squealing in disgust as her bare foot slipped in a puddle of congealed blood.
Not daring to risk using the knife on these zombies, who unlike the other two he’d just killed, were aware of their presence, Hank aimed his gun and shot them all in the head, sending them tumbling down the stairs.
They stood still, waiting to see if the noise drew more.
Something slammed against the front door, startling both of them. They turned toward the front door and saw the knob jiggling as more loud thumps crashed against it.
“Upstairs,” Hank ordered and they stepped over the dead bodies blocking their path to reach the stairs.
Janjai feared a dead, mottled hand would reach up and snake around her leg but they made it over the bodies and up the stairs without incident. Hank shoved her into the bedroom and on the bed as he opened the closet to retrieve her shoes and a pair of jeans for her. Then he grabbed a change of clothes for himself.
“I have everything else we need in these packs,” he said as he stripped out of his bloodied pajamas to change into traveling clothes. He kept rambling about how much gas they had and how far it would get them, not expecting Janjai to understand so she didn’t acknowledge his words.
Janjai dressed quickly as well, donning a pair of socks before pulling on the hiking boots he’d chosen for her. She’d just finished dressing when the front door crashed in.
She yelped, slapping a hand over her mouth before the sound could grow loud enough to draw attention.
Hank quickly closed and locked the bedroom door, then checked the bullets in his gun, adding a few to replace what he’d used downstairs.
Tears streamed down Janjai’s face as she heard footsteps on the stairs.
Hank wasted no time pulling on his backpack and sliding hers back onto her shoulders. She didn’t even wince under the pain of its weight, fear blocking it out as the footsteps stomped closer to the bedroom.
“This way.”
He walked over to the window and raised it as the doorknob started jiggling.
Janjai watched as he lowered the rope ladder installed there in case of fire. It didn’t look safe and she swallowed hard past the knot in her throat, considering it.
“Come on!” Hank snapped at her as the infected started banging on the door, threatening to break it down as they had the other. He climbed over the windowsill first, showing her how it was done. “Come on, now!”
Their growling, moaning noises growing louder behind it, Janjai took a deep breath and went to the window. Her legs shook as she climbed over the windowsill and her hands sweat as he gripped the edges of the flimsy looking rope ladder.
“Atta girl,” Hank coaxed her. “Come on, girl.”
He started climbing down, his movements shaking the ladder and Janjai nearly peed. The thought of pissing all over Hank’s head as he climbed down below her amused and terrified her at the same time, but not as much as the cracking sound she heard coming from the room as the door started to give.
The thought of one of those things reaching her while she was clinging to the ladder, totally defenseless, scared her into moving. She held her breath and lowered herself down the ladder as quickly as she could without looking down. She nearly wept as she reached the ground, her knees wobbling so badly, they barely supported her weight, but she somehow managed to stay upright as Hank grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the truck.
They’d just managed to climb inside the cab and close their doors when the bodies started to fall out of the window they’d just escaped from. The last one raised itself off the ground and moved toward them as Hank started the truck.
The zombie walked toward them, dragging its broken foot behind it as Hank cussed at the truck. “Start you sonofabitch, start!”
Janjai whimpered as the zombie drew closer, its snarling mouth full of teeth she could already feel biting through her flesh.
The engine sputtered to life and the truck lurched forward, leaving a very angry zombie behind, and a house full of memories Janjai hoped she’d live long enough to erase from her mind.
“What’s the Z one called again?”
“Zyprexa,” Raven answered as she and Damian searched the pharmacy shelves. “You find it?”
“No, but I found a ton of birth control pills.”
“Really?” Raven walked over to the shelf Damian was looking through and grabbed the packages. “Awesome.”
“Girl, what you think you need thirty packs of birth control pills for?” He smiled. “Planning on entertaining the troops when we get to that military camp?”
“Hardy har,” she replied as she dumped the packages into her backpack. “These are for me and Jeremy.”
“That child’s too young for birth control!” Damian’s voice elevated. “I know the easy ones get started early but damn.”
Raven laughed. “No, you dingbat. If you take all the active pills and skip the placebos you can keep yourself from coming on your period. Life’s hard enough during the zombie apocalypse without having to be on the rag too.”
“Oh gross. Why’d you think you had to share that with me?”
“You asked.”
“I made comments. I didn’t ask any question that led to that kind of answer.”
“Seriously? You’re a grown man. Quit acting like this normal part of life is gross.”
“I’m a grown man that dates other grown men because you women are nasty creatures, no offense.”
Raven laughed. “Fine, just keep looking for Cruz’s pills so we can get out of here. It’s too quiet. I don’t trust it.”
“I know what you mean.”
They continued searching the pharmacy shelves, reading the labels on everything.
“Do you know what he takes them for?” Raven asked as she rooted through various bottles and boxes.
“You know he’s not exactly the sharing type,” Damian answered from two rows behind her. “All I know is his temper is out of control.”
Raven nodded her head in agreement even though Damian couldn’t see it from where he stood. They’d left Cruz and Jeremy to watch the Escalade as they searched the pharmacy and now she wondered if that had been smart. Cruz had been out of his pills only a few days and he was nastier than ever.
“Dammit!”
“What?” Raven crossed over to where Damian stood.
He held up a box that said ZYPREXA and shook it. “Empty.”
“Seriously?”
Damian nodded. “At least we found some migraine pills for his headaches.”
“You’re positive that’s what those are for?”
“Honey, I worked in Hollywood with drama queens long enough to know the name of every type of migraine pill under the sun, and every diet pill and every pill for bloating, anxiety, wake ya up pills, and knock ya out pills.” He sighed as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Those migraine pills we found will knock out his withdrawal headaches for sure and as an added bonus for us, they’ll put him to sleep.”
“There’s a plus. Let’s hurry back and give him one.”
Damian chuckled as they walked toward the front of the pharmacy. “Look!”
Raven turned to see him escape down another aisle. She followed him to find what had caught his eye. He stood in the aisle, smiling from ear to ear as he held a 12-pack case of Cherry Coke.
“Wow. Haven’t had one of those in forever.” Raven’s mouth watered at the sight of the carbonated cherry flavored goodness.
“I kn
ow right? Screw the pills and first aid supplies we found. This is the treasure.”
Raven laughed. “It’s hot though. I like mine chilled.”
“Girl, please. Apocalypse survivors can’t be that picky. We gonna drink up and celebrate. Grab a case.”
Shaking her head as she laughed, Raven bent down to grab the other case but a shrill scream stopped her. “That was Jeremy!”
“Come on.” Damian took off running for the front door, still carrying the case of Cherry Coke.
Raven followed behind, one hand reaching back to grab the hilt of her katana as they raced to help their friends.
They rushed outside to find the Escalade surrounded. A small group of zombies crowded around it, beating and clawing at the windows to get to the people inside. Damian met Raven’s eyes and they nodded at each other, agreeing. It was go time.
“Hey!” Damian yelled, getting the zombies’ attention to get them away from the SUV before they could break a window and get inside.
The zombies turned toward his voice and he backed away, slowly. “Here ugly, ugly,” he coaxed them as they stepped toward him, their rotting mouths gaping open as they reached toward him with gnarled fingers. They made that garbled, growling sound Raven hated as they approached. It reminded her of being stuck in the closet at the hotel, her baby sister’s life in her hands. She separated from Damian, walked around the outside of the group as it followed the sound of Damian’s voice, and pulled the katana free from the sheath on her back.
She’d barely pulled the weapon free before it arced through the air and cleanly sliced off a zombie’s head. “That’s for Sky,” she growled before slicing into the next zombie.
Damian swung the case of Cherry Coke, connecting with the closest zombie’s face. Its teeth flew out of its mouth.
“My mama said Coke was bad for your teeth,” he joked as he hit the zombie with the case again, crushing its head in.
He finally dropped the case and replaced it with his rock hammer, a more effective weapon. As he and Raven worked on the zombies from their location, Jeremy and Cruz exited the Escalade, attacking the zombies from the back of the crowd. Now the infected were the ones surrounded.
Raven and Damian thinned out the crowd with their weapons and Jeremy and Cruz picked off as many as they could from behind, using their knives. Jeremy was careful to stay behind Cruz and only attack when necessary. Raven made a mental note to get the girl a better weapon. The knife she used required the zombies to get far too close for Raven’s liking.
They soon had the crowd eviscerated, rotten limbs strewn about the street.
“See what happens when you all take all damn day?” Cruz started in before they’d had a moment to catch their breath. “While you two were in there playing around we were out here in the open, exposed.”
“You chose to stay in the SUV because your head hurt,” Damian snapped, “and we weren’t playing around. The only reason why we went into the pharmacy to begin with was to get what you need.”
“So what are you saying?” Cruz puffed his chest out as he confronted Damian. “I’m the handicap of the group? I’m the one holding us back?”
“Dude, what the hell you talking about? Ain’t no handicap. Only person complaining is you!”
“I know what you say about me,” Cruz spat back.
“Enough, both of you.” Raven caught Jeremy’s gaze and jerked her head toward the Escalade, indicating she should get inside before she sorted out the argument between the guys. “We just killed a bunch of zombies. I don’t think this is the place to be hollering at each other. If there was a small group here, you’d better believe there’s another group nearby, maybe bigger. Let’s just go.”
“He needs to apologize,” Damian demanded. “I’m tired of this crap.”
“Let’s just go, Damian.” Raven looked at him sternly until he muttered an angry curse and stomped past her.
“Where are you going?”
“I earned these,” he answered as he bent down and tore open the Cherry Coke carton partially imbedded in a zombie’s head.
He grabbed four cans, handing one to her as he passed. “Maybe the caffeine will help with your headache, jackass,” he said as he tossed another to Cruz and climbed into the SUV next to Jeremy, sliding the door closed behind him.
Cruz looked at the can in his hand as if it were poison.
“It’s just a soft drink,” Raven muttered, passing him to get to the driver’s side of the vehicle. “I know you’re not feeling well but none of us are exactly feeling great right now. That group of zombies could have easily been in the pharmacy instead of out here but we went in there anyway, for you. Show a little appreciation.”
She climbed into the Escalade and started the engine. Cruz stood outside for a moment, chewing his lip as he looked down the street, searching … for a way out? To leave them?
“Just leave him,” Damian grumbled from the back.
Raven shot him a glare as Cruz climbed in, slamming the passenger door behind him.
“I didn’t know if you were going to come with us.”
“I’m sorry,” Cruz grumbled. “It’s my head. It’s too loud.”
Frowning at his strange explanation, Raven reached back for Damian’s pack and pulled out the migraine pills he’d found. “Your medication wasn’t available but we found something for the headache. Why don’t you take some and go to sleep. You should feel better after some rest.”
“How do I know you’re not just trying to knock me out?”
“If I wanted to knock you out, I’d use my fists. It’d be a lot more fun.”
“I’d help her,” Damian added.
Cruz looked back at him, held his gaze for a moment before giving in to laughter. They all joined in, even Jeremy, who’d been keeping to herself. There was a twinkle in Cruz’s eye as he popped open the tab on the soft drink and downed two of the migraine pills. Raven instinctively knew that sparkle marked the real Cruz and he really wasn’t a bad guy but something was wrong inside him. Broken. They needed to find his medication while he was still fixable.
“Do you think there are a lot of survivors?” Angela asked as they continued up the expressway.
Hal thought about the vacant cars they’d seen on their journey, some with parts of people still inside, and sighed. “Hard to say. I know there are more than us.”
“It seems like there’d be more traffic if there were.”
“Not really. It’s been about a month. Most people who wanted to go to the military camps would have left right after the announcement was made. A lot of people probably did what we did, may still be doing it.”
“Staying in their homes until flaming zombies drive them out?”
Hal grinned at the girl sitting in the passenger seat next to him. “Holding down their own forts. Some people have panic rooms, bomb shelters. Some of those bomb shelters are made to last decades.”
“I wish we’d had one.”
“It’s not our job to hide from the bad things in the world,” he reminded her in a low voice as he checked the rearview mirror to make sure their guest was still asleep in the back seat. “We may want to but we can’t. As long as there are good people left to protect and bad people left to threaten them, we stay active.”
Angela nodded. “Right. Like we were able to help Maura.”
“I’m not sure she’s one of the good ones.”
“Why?”
“My gut.” Hal frowned, debating how much to say. It would do Angela no good to know about the prejudiced venom the woman had spewed about Russian women and the men who married them. He had faith that Maura would hang herself with her own noose in time. There was no sense upsetting Angela any more than necessary. “You don’t feel anything off about her?”
“She’s hurting,” the young girl replied. “She cried herself to sleep. She didn’t make any noise, but I saw the tears.”
Hal glanced at the rearview mirror again, studied the woman as she slept on her side, clutching that
pack to her chest as if afraid it’d be stolen from her while she was unconscious. She looked peaceful and innocent, as all people did in sleep. Even serial killers looked cherubic in sleep. He knew. He’d caught more than a few in that vulnerable position before slicing their throats. He’d learned a long time ago that looks could be deceiving. “Don’t let your guard down.”
Angela stiffened as she looked over at him. “You think she could hurt us?”
“I think she could try. I also think she could hurt others. That’s why we need to be alert. Understand?”
Angela chewed her bottom lip for a moment then nodded. “My dad said this job required the ability to detach from the human race. He said you couldn’t befriend them because just like rabid dogs, they sometimes go mad and you have to put them down.”
“He was right, to an extent. He himself married twice, and he was my best friend. There are good people, people you can trust, but they are rare and you have to look at people with all your senses. The eyes are easily deceived. The heart is even more foolish. Your gut will always tell you the truth.”
“But sometimes you can be wrong? You can think someone is good then they do something really bad?”
“Yes.”
“What about the other way? Can you think someone is bad but they turn out to be good?”
Hal sighed, knowing where she was going with this. “It’s possible. My gut is very wise, Angela. I trust it.”
“But you could be wrong. How do you know before you … smite someone? How can you be sure you’re doing the right thing?”
“The difference between smiting and killing is that killing is a personal decision. Smiting is an action you are called to do.”
“But what—” Angela’s eyes grew wide as she pointed toward the wooded area along the side of the expressway. “Look!”
Hal followed the direction of her pointed finger until his gaze locked on a group of infected, or as he was trying to get used to calling them, zombies. They’d seen a few clusters of them since leaving Nashville but this group wasn’t aimlessly walking around. They’d surrounded something.