by Mark Clodi
“Look we will find you some clothes and get the paint off of you, we need to do that, in case that is standard procedure for injured people.”
Stewart kept driving, after a mile or so she asked, “Where are your kids Max?”
“They took them to Lincoln to put them on a train east towards Des Moines Red said they might be in Iowa already.”
“You can't sense them?”
“It is too far. I can't go more than a mile or so if I want to be able to pick out individuals. I can sense things farther than that. Red has more distance.”
“He has killed more living than you have undead. If that is the way these things work. Why can't I do that?”
“Why can't I move as fast as you?”
“I don't know. Are the others going to be alright?”
“They will survive.”
“Do you think we will see them again?”
Stewart thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Are you going to Chicago to find the guy responsible for calling all the zombies towards us?”
“I think I have to.”
“Then I don't think we will see them again. No.”
“We?”
“Yes. We, our stupidity is like a multiplier, alone we are equal to one plus one stupidity. But put us together and we are like eight stupidity. We can't let our talent for misadventure go to waste.”
Max smiled and sat back in the passenger seat. His smile faded when Stewart asked, “What about your kids Max?”
“I got a friend in Iowa, a good guy, I will have to leave them there. I don't want to, but can you see any other way?”
“Not unless we run into someone else who can do what you do. That is alright I will cover your ass, I have been since I found you pissing your pants at the MAC Co. building in Denver.”
“I wasn't pissing my pants!” Max protested.
“Near enough. You know I almost shot you?” Max shook his head, “You were covered in blood and looked like one of them, in a way you owe me your life for not shooting you. I could have gone either way.”
“Like I've never saved your life before or something.”
“Yeah, when?”
“In my house when you got hit with the table leg by…uh, Veronica? I thought you were dead and drove the zombies out the back door.”
“Max! That does not count! We were only there because of you! That'd be like me making you grab onto a rope and dangling you over the edge of a building, then pulling you up and saying 'I just saved your life!' Lame.”
“You know I sort of miss Steve.” said Max, mentioning the man who had made the trek with them to his house in the suburbs only to be killed in Max's back yard by a shotgun blast.
“He was an asshole. But he did grow on me. He died well. I mean if you have to go, it seems to me you could find a worse way than fighting for your friends or the ones you love.”
“Yeah…I guess you're right.” Max leaned over and gave Stewart a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for?”
“I am glad you are here.”
Up ahead the road split, they could head south on highway two seventy five or continue east on highway twenty. To Stewart's unasked question Max said, “Head east.” And they did.
Chapter 24
Red lugged the body of the deputy off the road towards the river and hid on the far bank as another police cruiser went by on the highway with its lights flashing. It stopped at the cars that were lined across the road and the two men inside got out and started looking for ways to get by. There was no chance the police officers could see him, the vegetation was so thick that Red had barely seen the police car. He lowered the body down into the grass and looked it over. It was still full of life giving energy, sometimes it took awhile for a body to fade and become unappetizing to a zombie. Looking west he could see the horde traveling south again, he wondered what Nita and Hugh would say when he got back to them, they had to have a reason for doing what they did. Still he had time to get a meal in, if he hurried. Stripping off his clothing he hung it out of the way in a low crook on a tree then started in on the body. He was not incredibly hungry, that had seemed to fade as he regained his memories, but the taste was still fantastic and he felt the energy coursing through his body as he fed. He pulled the choicest parts out of the corpse to save time; he knew that if he gorged himself he would end up vomiting. Turning the body slowly he went after only the organs that held the most life energy. Grasping the head in both hands he forced his fingers into the eye sockets and then pulled forcefully, removing most of the eye sockets and nasal cavity, some splatters of blood still managed to hit his clothing where he had placed it. Red sighed and dug into the hole in the man's face with his long, lean fingers, fishing the brains out. As he went he wiped the exposed mucus that drained into the hole from the sinus cavity onto the deputy's shirt. Red was young enough that he could remember times when he was not so discriminating. When the hole constricted his hand he broke another section of it off so he could scoop out what was left. These days when he fed he made certain that the dead would not rise again, plus the brain was the best part.
When Red finished with the he reached down and pulled up the deputies shirt, and then pressed his hand inwards at the bottom of the rib cage. He pushed until his hand broke through the skin and tissue, it was like pushing through a child's balloon, the skin gave away slowly with some resilience at first, then suddenly split and tore in a long cut, allowing Red access to the internal organs. He moved his hand up through the diaphragm to grasp and pull out the heart, the large muscle was tough to chew but the taste was second only to the brains. Moving down his list of good parts to eat and subsequently further down into the body Red wrapped his hands around the liver and pulled it from the body, even more than the heart the liver was held in place by suction, releasing only with a loud, wet popping sound that was both amusing and disgusting to his ears. By the time he finished with the liver the colorful glow from the body was almost gone. Each person was different, each person seemed to die at a different pace, some people, after death could be eaten a day later, others faded within minutes. Red had no idea why this was so, but he had learned to eat fast. The thought of feeding didn't sicken him anymore, not like the first few times he had fed when he was smart enough to know what he was doing. Now he just took it as a fact of his new life that this is how he ate and how he always would until he died again. Standing he almost slipped as his foot came down on a loop of intestines that had been pulled out when he took the liver, the slippery flesh flattened in an unpleasant manner and Red quickly pulled his foot back. Looking himself over he noticed his feeding hadn't gotten any cleaner despite constant practice, his chest and stomach were streaked with blood that was dripping down his belly onto his legs. He was glad he had taken the time to disrobe before eating, if he encountered any humans they might not shoot him immediately, but a bloody zombie, or human for that matter, was sure to be fired upon. Getting down into the river Red washed up, making certain to rinse out his hair, forgetting to do that was a mistake he had made before and one he would not make again. He skirted around the body when he made his way back to his clothing and got dressed despite still being wet. The clothing clung to him and Red hoped it gave him the appearance of sweating, which would add to his 'human-ness' and make sense given the heat and humidity. As a zombie he didn't sweat anymore, all of his bodily functions were turned upside down, nothing was the same. He knew in a few hours he would have to squat and expel the meaty parts of the body he had just eaten, they would come out looking like chewed up pieces of meat, but not digested as far as Red could tell. Whatever he expelled never smelled that bad either, maybe faintly rotted, but no worse than that. Shrugging into his shirt Red set off to where he had left Nita and Hugh.
He was crossing highway two eighty one a few miles south of town when a stray dog caught his scent and jogged up to him. It growled a bit and Red growled back. When he set off again the dog followed, growling at odd intervals. Red ke
pt an eye out, he didn't dislike dogs, but he didn't want this one jumping him when he was unaware, so he had to either kill it or make friends with it. Looking around he concentrated, trying to find something to feed it. Finally he located a rabbit burrow that was close enough to the surface that he could see the cowering creature that was a foot underground. Standing over the rabbit he thrust his hand into the soil and broke it's neck in one smooth motion. He tore the things fur open along the back, then turned towards the dog, which had tags on it. Kneeling he coaxed the dog towards him. It came forward, growling and hungry looking, wanting the rabbit, but obviously not trusting Red. Inch by inch it crept closer, until Red snapped his hand forward and grabbed it by the scruff of the neck. The dog started struggling and Red held it away from his face with almost no effort, then lifted it off the ground. He dropped the rabbit and reach for the mutt's collar, using his faster reflexes to avoid the thing's snapping bites.
“Riley huh?” Red said after looking at the name on the collar, “If I was named that I'd be mad too. Who gives a dog a people name? Poor mutt you gotta be confused out of your fool head.”
Talking seemed to calm the beast and after a few minutes and a couple of sharp shakes the thing stopped trying to bite Red every time he tried to pet it.
“See? All you need Riley is a firm hand to keep you in check. I know dogs, my dad had a few and you are confused about who is the big bad boss of our pack. I am here to tell you that I am the alpha male and if you want to come with me you better accept that. Got it?”
He set the dog down, but kept his one hand firmly on the scruff of its neck, with the other he picked up the rabbit and offered it to the dog, it snapped at him again and he shook it, the second time he offered the rabbit it licked the dead animal's bloody fur. Red let it do that for a few minutes, then dropped the carcass and started petting the dog again. Finally he let go of the scruff and the dog just stood there, looking at him, then nosing the rabbit, then looking at him again.
“Take it girl, you can have it.” The dog picked up the rabbit and started chomping into it. Red stepped back, wondering if it would follow him or just stay and finish the meal he had provided. “You can come with me if you want. I wouldn't mind the company and I think Nita will like you.” He turned and started to walk away, Riley picked up the rabbit and followed him.
The journey back to where he had left his two companions took a couple hours, the countryside was rugged, not flat as he had always imagined the mid west. In addition to the rises and falls of the land there seemed to be a minor river or lake every quarter mile, most of the rivers and streams he could jump, but the lakes he had to go around. The farm was empty. This concerned him. He approached the van that Nita had stuffed the zombies into and opened the back door, it was empty. Or rather almost empty, there was a chest in the back, it looked like it was made out of cedar and was about two feet wide, three long and maybe twenty inches tall. The sides of the chest were coated with black blood that Red recognized as the kind zombies bled out. Flies were thick in the van as well, a whole cloud of them rose up as he pulled the chest out onto the gravel road.
Before he opened it he knew he could guess what was inside; either Nita or Hugh. Riley whined nervously near his feet. Unlike with the humans Red couldn't differentiate between zombies very well. If they were close, within a mile or two, he could tell his friends apart from the run of the mill zombies around them, but that was mostly due to how they moved and acted. He unlatched the chest and flipped the lid back. Nita's open eyes stared out at him, unseeing. Her arms were missing and her legs had been hacked off near the upper part of her thighs. Her stomach was ripped open and her entrails had been removed, cut up and dumped back into the cavity where they had been before. Red had become somewhat of a student of anatomy and he could tell the parts in Nita had been stirred up, he couldn't tell if she had still been alive when it had happened, but assumed so. No one would have a reason to do this after she had been put down. The top of her skull was hacked up and the bone was broken into shards that shown whitely through the black, sticky blood. Gently Red lifted the top of her skull, revealing an empty cavity underneath it. Whomever it was had hacked the top of her skull off and scooped her brains out to kill her.
Fuming Red threw his head back and screamed, he took a step towards the van and smashed the back of it with his fist, tearing a hole through the metal, plastic and glass, causing it to roll over onto its side. He went after the vehicle as if it was the thing that had caused him so much pain, stooping he picked it up and lifted it over his head, half spinning he stopped and threw it into the farm house a hundred yards away, it crunched through the porch roof and ended up at an angle with the engine resting in the living room.
Looking back at Nita he said, “I don't care what it takes. I will find the sonofabitch who did this and make him pay. I will make him pay. I am so sorry Nita, so sorry. You were a little fucked in the head but I could have loved you, I really could have.” Somehow leaving her there to be eaten by maggots didn't seem right to Red, so he brought the chest over to the house and kicked in the front door, he set the chest down in the living room ten feet in front of where the van had come to rest. Then he went to the barn and looked around, it didn't take him long to spot the gas cans on the shelf by the tractors. Riley backed away from Red's anger, going over the ditch and into the field with the bit of her rabbit that remained.
Ten minutes later, with a smoking pillar behind him Red was stalking down the road after the tail end of the horde. Along the way he tried to convince himself to calm down, to think and plan. Nita had been almost as strong as Red was, the zombie or zombies that had killed her were likely to be able to order him around as well. Except for anger, anger always made things difficult. Scanning ahead Red found he could spot the source of his anger quite easily, even though he was well out of visual range of the thing. It almost looked human. The swirling colors of the zombie told Red right where it was and upon seeing this he did stop.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The thing had to be as strong as him, probably it was the secondary zombie who had traveled to Chicago to make sure that city fell. It might have consumed more living than Red, it might have been brought back from the dead sooner too, which were disadvantages if he were to fight it fairly. Watching it he could tell it had spotted him too, because it stopped moving. It was waiting for him.
'Fairly' that is the key. I can't fight it fair. I have to cheat. Or run away. Those were his options when he thought about them. With some reluctance Red turned west and headed away from the horde toward Wyoming. Riley followed at his heels.
Chapter 25
Stewart turned the car sharply, avoiding the wreckage ahead of her as she tried to get them closer to the burning city ahead of them. There seemed to be numerous huge fires in Sioux City South on the Nebraska side of the state line. The road had been clear almost the entire way, the worst thing the two of them had to contend with was occasionally having to drive on the shoulder as they made their way east. Now it looked like their luck had changed. The smoke was not so thick that it was interfering with their ability to navigate yet, but they could smell it and they could see a haze near the ground ahead of them.
“It looks like the road will go a little south of where stuff is burning.” Max said.
“I think so, yeah, what does our map look like?”
“Oh let me see…nothing, our map looks like nothing!” Max said grating his teeth together. They had stopped at a farm house well off the beaten path to let Stewart wash up and get different clothing on. Max had taken the opportunity to get cleaned up as well and had brought their map in to look at while Stewart was showering. When they left Max had forgotten the map on the kitchen table. “We could have stopped and picked up a new one at that last gas station.”
“It doesn't matter, we know we were going to follow twenty until it turned into highway one twenty nine, then take that over the river to Iowa. Whoa! Would you look at that!” Stewart said pointing up at the sky a
head of them. A helicopter gun ship was hovering almost directly in front of them, perhaps a mile ahead, smoke was pouring out of some sort of machine gun mounted on one side of the thing. From here, even with the car sealed shut, they could hear the distant drone of automatic gunfire.
“Ah, Stewart, that doesn't look good.”
“No shit? Maybe we better stop for a map. I don't think we can go much further on highway twenty.” Ahead of them a ragged soldier ran up the side of the road to the shoulder, waving his arms to get their attention. “Zombie!” screamed Stewart, aiming the car towards it and stepping on the gas.
“It might not be….Stewart! It might just be a guy who needs help!” at the last possible second the man jumped back and Stewart swerved right to avoid him. Max got a good look at the guy and turned to her and yelled, “Stop!” at the top of his lungs. Stewart, surprised, slammed on her brakes, the car started to slide sideways and she let off enough to straighten out, muttering something about “too cheap to have cars with anti-lock brakes” under her breath.
Stewart turned to Max to find out just what was so important to stop for, she didn't see any obstacles in the road ahead or any hordes scrambling out of the ditch to attack them either. Max, however slipped off his seat belt and jumped out of the car without a word to her. The next time she saw him was in the rear view mirror, running towards the zombie with his pistol out, but pointed down towards the ground. She unbuckled herself, pulled out the shotgun and followed him to the soldier. When she was ten steps away she watched Max point his gun at a stalwart looking man a few years older than he was. The two were talking and the older man hadn't raised his rifle towards Max, but he hadn't put it down either.
Max turned back towards her and yelled, “He is alive! He isn't one of them! Stewart he is alive!” then he rushed to the man and embraced him like a long lost brother. The two men hugged for few seconds, then a few seconds more, tears rolled down their cheeks.