The Z Chronicles

by Ellen Campbell

  The infected are killed on sight, so next up is something to help me blend in. I’ve always been fair and, with my blond hair, I might be able to get away with being as pale as I am, but there’s no hiding the eyes. I dig through the clothes pile to find a hoodie big enough to hide my face, then slide one arm in and hunch down so I can pull it over my head. It was Devin’s and it still smells like him. My stomach growls.

  I get sick again.

  Benjamin laughs. It’s probably best he thinks mommy’s trying to be funny with the horrible retching noise.

  Another bed sheet becomes a sling so I can have my arms free. Then, I carefully pull the straps of the backpack onto my shoulders and move to the playpen to pick Benjamin up. It’s awkward as hell getting him situated, but eventually he’s snuggled against my chest.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. He absolutely does not smell appetizing. Not one single bit.

  We exit through the side door into the garage and the waiting ATV. This is going to be interesting. I manage to slide the garage door up with little trouble, but it takes three tries for me to swing one leg up and over the ATV and then wiggle into a semi-comfortable position that allows me to drive without squishing Benjamin against the handlebars. The thing’s been kept in good repair, so it starts up easily and we putter down the steep driveway to the road.

  I drive relatively slowly, but the miles pass by and Benjamin is eventually lulled to sleep by the steady movement and noise. By the time he starts to get fussy again, dusk is falling. I pull the ATV over and drive it into the woods a little way. Yeah, I haven’t seen any other people around, but sleeping right by the side of the road is not a risk I’m willing to take.

  Dinner is another jar of watered down baby food for Benjamin and me choking down a protein bar and then devouring the rest of the beef jerky. I’d meant to ration it, but, once I caught whiff of the smell of the dried meat, I couldn’t stop. And I hate myself for it.

  After the protein bar is ejected from my stomach, I settle my back against the tree with Benjamin curled up on my chest. He pops his thumb in his mouth and then slowly drifts off while playing with a strand of my hair. Thankfully, he’s asleep by the time his chubby fist pulls that lock of hair lose. I shudder and remove it from his hand, then join him in sleep.

  DAY THREE

  Another morning, another session of self-imposed physical therapy. Not too much worse than yesterday, but now my joints ache on top of the stiffness. That probably has more to do with the night spent on the ground than worsening symptoms. I shake my head. Yeah right, I can’t even make myself believe that.

  More baby food and a diaper change for Benjamin and another nauseating protein bar for me. Strangely, I used to enjoy the damn things. Before the Zombie virus, when the world was normal, I’d eat at least one a day, especially the chocolate ones. Now, they all taste like cardboard.

  My stomach growls and I find myself scrambling to find the empty beef jerky bag and then licking the inside of it with long strokes of my tongue. My mouth waters at that hint of salty meat and— Jesus. What is wrong with me? Has it really come down to this?

  I drop the bag and wipe my mouth with my arm. Shoving the plastic further away with my foot, I close my eyes and curl my fingers into my palms. Get a grip, Sarah. A tear leaks from the corner of my eye and trails down my cheek. How much longer do I have?

  Awkwardly swiping at my eyes with the back of my hand, my gaze goes to my son. He’s sitting there babbling happily to himself and playing with a stick. He has no clue about the turmoil twisting my stomach and slowly warping my mind. He’ll probably have no memory of me when he’s older. He won’t know what I went through to keep him safe. He won’t know how much I loved him.

  Another tear escapes and I wipe it away. There’s not enough time for me to waste it mourning all the things my son will never know. If I don’t get moving he may never grow up at all.

  Loading up takes longer today, self-hatred making me question every thought and every movement. Should I carry Benjamin that close to my face today? How much do I trust myself? What if the proximity—No. There isn’t any other choice. I finally get everything situated and get back on the ATV.

  The miles flow away under the wheels as I let my mind wander. It’s day three now. If everything goes right, if my immune system fights it off, I have until day six. At best.

  My stomach churns and growls. I tried to eat another protein bar at lunch and I couldn’t even swallow it. This new hunger worries me. What if I’m entering the final stages? What if today is my last clear day? What if I wake up tomorrow as…not me?

  The endless cycle of worries has no room for more, so, when I see the two forms walking along the side of the road ahead, I continue driving. I should stop. I should see what kind of people they are. I should be doing everything in my power to find a safe place for Benjamin sooner rather than later. But I’m not. For the same reason it took me two days to leave the cottage, I drive on by the decent-looking couple with barely a wave. I might have a few more days left to spend with my son and I’m not ready to let go of him yet.

  As the sun drops lower in the sky, I begin looking for a good spot to pull off the road for the night. The road’s wider here with open spaces on either side. Not too many places that look promising. It’s been quiet today and the only people I’ve seen were the two I drove past, but I don’t want to take any risks. I keep going until I spot a stand of trees and then drive the ATV over the open field toward it.

  It’s big enough to give us some cover so I guess it’ll have to do.

  I’ve almost got the whole changing, feeding, settling ritual down, even with my limitations. It goes much quicker tonight than it did last night and Benjamin is snuggled against my chest fast asleep before the sun has fully set.

  I’m staring at an unwrapped protein bar, trying to talk myself into eating it. My stomach’s been twisting and my hunger is becoming a deep seated ache. I can’t bring myself to lift the damn thing to my mouth. As soon as I get a whiff of it, I’ll be sick. I know it. I should try anyway.

  Since my elbow won’t bend enough to allow me to pinch my nostrils shut, I move one arm across my face to cover my nose. I close my eyes. I can do this. I need to do this. The protein bar hits my tongue and I gag. Dammit! I’m getting too weak and I need to eat something. I’ll just have to hope I can hold out. I kinda wish I’d kept the beef jerky bag.

  Bang!

  At the sound, I jerk and my heart rate picks up. Someone’s close. Too close. And they have a gun. I use the tree behind me to leverage myself into a standing position, one arm wrapped around Benjamin, praying he won’t wake up. I’m slow, but I can still get out of here. I simply have to move faster.

  I half stumble toward the ATV, my knees screaming in pain from the rapid movement. I get my leg over the seat on the first try—score me!—and adjust the sling with the still snoozing baby so he sits comfortably against my chest. I turn the key. It starts up…and I forgot the goddamn backpack.

  My leg smacks into the handlebar as I try to dismount and it turns sideways, the rubber grip nudging not-so-gently into Benjamin’s side. He sniffles. I grit my teeth to hold back a curse, both at my luck and at the new fiery pain raging on the side of my leg. His eyes crack open and his lower lip wobbles. A few seconds pass and then Benjamin’s cry breaks through the night air. I cringe.

  Something comes crashing through the brush on my left and I slide back against the tree. Maybe the shadows will cover me. Maybe they won’t see. Maybe I can be safe. Benjamin’s still crying, though. A form steps in front of me, silhouetted against the moon, and points a rifle at me.

  My budding new instincts scream at me to growl and snarl, not only to protect my son but because I am so damn hungry and the person in front of me smells absolutely delicious. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I push down the urge to gnash my teeth and squeeze the small bundle closer. “Please don’t hurt him,” I whisper.

  “Lee!” A woman’s voice. The barrel of the rifle lowers.<
br />
  More crashing noises to the left and another shape rushes between the trees and sweeps the woman into a tight hug. “Jesus Christ, Jenna. What the hell were you thinking? You can’t just go running off like that.”

  “I’m perfectly fine. I know how to tell the difference between a baby’s cry and one of the infected.” She pats his back and tilts her head in my direction. “It’s that woman with the ATV from earlier.”

  The man—Lee—turns to me. “What are you doing out here? Why are you alone? What are—”

  “Lee. Stop it. Can’t you see she’s terrified.” She steps closer and holds a hand out. “I’m Jenna and this is my husband. If you’re okay with it, we’d like to share your campsite.”

  I nod my assent.

  * * *

  That gunshot? It was Lee killing a rabbit. The same one whose skin his knife is now splitting. My mouth waters. Meat. Want… No! I look away and close my eyes. I can’t close my nose though and the scent of fresh blood creeps into my nostrils. My stomach growls.

  “Squeamish?” Lee asks.

  A chuckle escapes my mouth. If only he knew that it was taking all my self-control not to snatch that—juicy, bloody, tasty—rabbit from his hands and eat it raw. He might be the squeamish one then.

  Lee sets the rabbit on a stick over the fire and leans back with his hands intertwined behind his head.

  I dole out a few of the protein bars I have left and wave Jenna away when she tries to offer me an apple. The thought of biting into something tart and crisp nearly makes me gag. My mind, eyes, and stomach are all concentrated on the scrawny rabbit roasting over the fire.

  Benjamin’s still awake, his thumb in his mouth and his fingers in my hair. I glance down at him and he gives me a gleeful smile, the one reserved only for me, and I smile too while blinking back tears. How can I possibly give him up?

  “Huh?” I bring my head up to face Jenna.

  “I asked how old he is,” she says.

  “Oh, um, eight months.” My head tilts down as I go along with my son’s pulling fingers. It’s dark enough and my hoodie provides enough cover that they have no idea I’m infected, but I doubt I could explain away a chunk of my scalp falling off. As it is, the side of my leg that had hit the handle bar of the ATV is…squishy. I think the skin may be coming off, but I haven’t dared trying to lift my pant leg to see.

  “Where’s, uh,” she stammers.

  “His father?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Dead.” Even in the dark I can see her flinch. “We ran into a pack of infected and…yeah.”

  “How’d you escape?” Lee asks from his position across from us. The question is quiet, but it’s laced with suspicion.

  Alarm bells ring in my head. They can’t know. If they find out I’m infected—“What?”

  “You said we ran into a pack of infected. I’m asking how you got away.”

  “I…I ran.” I swallow back the lump in my throat. Devin had told me to run and I’d started to, but I wasn’t able to leave him there. If I hadn’t gone back, I probably wouldn’t be in this situation. “I wanted some real diapers for Benjamin and there hadn’t been any reports of infected in the area for quite a while, so we decided a quick trip to that big box store down on 17 would be okay. There were so many. I think they’d gone inside to escape the light. Devin didn’t have a chance.”

  Lee makes a tutting noise in the back of his throat and Jenna reaches out to touch my arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It only happened about a week ago,” I say softly. I swipe at my eyes with the back of my hand. Carefully. My nose isn’t feeling too sturdy these days and the last thing I need right now is to scare them off. Maybe they could be the ones.

  “So you’re headed to the city for protection?” asks Lee.

  “Yes,” I say. “I needed to find some place safe for Benjamin.”

  Jenna smiles. “Us too. Well, our little one’s not here yet.” She rubs a hand over her stomach. “About six more months and she will be. Lee thought it best that we head someplace where there’s some semblance of security. I know there aren’t too many infected around anymore, but…”

  “Better safe than sorry.” I run my fingers through the dirt. “All it takes is one.”

  She smiles again.

  “I think it’s ready,” says Lee as he lifts the stick holding the rabbit out of the fire.

  My mouth waters and my stomach growls. I don’t want to ask. They don’t have to share with me, but…I sigh, but it sounds more like a groan. Need it. Soooo hungry. Benjamin shifts in my lap and my face jerks toward him, nose twitching. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. More hunger pains stab into my stomach and I hunch over. Not now. Not yet.

  “You all right?” Jenna reaches out to touch my arm. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to turn my face away and not chomp down on one of her fingers.

  “Yeah,” I croak out. Another rumble from my stomach. “Can I—Would you mind sharing a little of that? It’s just I haven’t had meat in so long and I—”

  Lee shuts me up by handing a hunk of the freshly cooked meat to me. “Here.”

  “Thank you.” My shoulders relax and I take a deep breath inhaling the scent of it—fresh, hot, meatmeatmeat—something in my chest rumbles and this noise is almost a growl. I shove it into my mouth without bothering to let it cool. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever tasted and the feeling of it slipping down my throat…I…I…I…

  A bone cracks between my teeth and a jagged fragment burrows into the inside of my cheek and through the other side. The pain draws me back as horror washes over me. That was close. Too close. I clap my hand over my punctured cheek and pull the hood lower over my face.

  My body screams for more food, twisting my stomach and pulling at my willpower. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a few deep breaths through my mouth. That’s better. I can do this. I have to hold on a little while longer. I open my eyes and look down at Benjamin. I can do this for him.

  “I’ll take first watch,” says Lee.

  Jenna rubs a hand down his arm. “You remember to wake me up for my turn tonight though. Promise?”

  He turns a brilliant smile to his wife. “Promise.”

  The exchange gives me hope. They might be exactly who I need.

  Pulling my son closer, I rest back against the tree. I’ll make it to morning and I’ll make it through tomorrow. I’ll make it long enough to decide if Lee and Jenna are the substitute parents I need for him.

  DAY FOUR

  “Lee, that’s enough!” Jenna’s voice snaps to my right.

  I open my eyes. They’re both standing over me in the pale dawn light and Lee has a gun held down at his side in a white knuckled grip. Jenna inhales sharply and takes a step back, before offering me a weak smile. Lee simply scowls.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were infected?” snaps Lee.

  My gaze goes to the gun in his hand and I pull Benjamin in closer to my body. I hiss and curl over my son. Hissing? I’m hissing now? I give my head a brisk shake and force my limbs to relax. “Sorry…I…What does it matter anyway? I told you the truth. I’m just—” My stomach growls. Lee flinches and slides to the side so Jenna is behind him. “I’m just trying to find a safe place for Benjamin before…before…well, I’m sure you realize what’s going to happen to me soon. I have to find a way to protect him. He has to make it out of this.”

  Pity, or maybe empathy, softens Jenna’s face. She walks around her husband and crouches down across from me, her eyes boring into mine. “It’s what any mother would do.” She turns to look up at Lee. “Put that damn thing away. If she wanted to hurt us, she could have easily done it last night.”

  He grumbles, but complies with her command.

  “How far into the process are you?” Jenna asks softly.

  It takes a moment to pull the number from my head. The days are all running together now. “Day four,” I say.

  “Not much time then.”

  I shake my head. “Maybe two days. I
f I’m lucky.”

  She stands and absently rubs her belly. As she bites her lower lips her eyes travel to Lee and then back to me. “We’ll take him,” she says. Lee opens his mouth as if he’s about to protest, but she silences him with a hand on his arm. “It’s what I’d hope for if anything ever happened to me…someone to watch over my child.”

  Despite Lee’s obvious reservations, relief takes over my body. I release a sigh and relax my muscles. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, don’t thank us yet,” says Lee. “We still have to get to the city without running into any more infected.”

  I push a hand against the tree behind me and use it to slide up into a standing position. My time is getting shorter. I can feel it in the…wrongness…that’s crawling into my limbs and creeping into my mind. Lee and Jenna will have to do. “You can take the ATV. Just leave me a gun,” I say.

  Jenna’s brow furrows and she tilts her head to the side. But Lee gets it. He meets my eyes and gives me a slight nod. Then, he wraps one arm around his wife’s shoulder and leans down to speak directly into her ear.

  Her mouth turns downward and she shakes her head. “We can’t…that’s not…” The words trail off as she meets my eyes.

  I’m opening my mouth to reply when I hear it: a sort of snuffling, snarling noise in the direction of the road.

  Lee jumps into action, ushering Jenna over to a tree with low hanging branches. She grabs one and starts climbing. His eyes dart around frantically and then finally land on me. Still leaning against the tree. “What are you waiting for?”

  I shake my head. “I can barely walk right now. I don’t think I’ll be climbing any trees.” I hug Benjamin to my chest and place a kiss on the top of his head, careful to keep any saliva from touching his skin and ignoring the sudden urge to chomp down on his ear. “Take him and get out of here. They haven’t sniffed us out yet and they won’t be able to keep up with the ATV.”