Brutal Planet: A Zombie Novel

by Sean P. Murphy

  “Allison! Try to lean forward and keep your airway open! Try not to swallow…” and then she vomited in my crotch. Hammer whacked me on the back and handed over a bunch of compresses. These helped slow the external bleeding, but not the holes inside her mouth. I held her head on my lap trying to keep the blood flowing out and not in. Hammer gave me more medical supplies and helped with the compresses.

  “Listen, you can survive this!” I yelled. Richard Burton, the famous African explorer suffered a similar wound from a spear in the middle of nowhere Africa, with no medical assistance, and he made a complete recovery. “We have the supplies and people to deal with this.”

  “John!” It was Roy. “Side pocket of the grey bag, purple cap, grab one!”

  I unzipped the compartment and inside was a collection of cylinders about the size of a cigar tube. The first one was black, an EpiPen, but the second was purple, Morphine Sulfate Injection 10 milligrams.

  “Allison, morphine.” I yelled. She slightly shook her head yes a couple of times and squeezed my knee. I pulled off the safety release, popped the cap, and in one swift motion, jabbed the needle into her outer thigh, right through her jeans. She never flinched or made a sound.

  “It’s intramuscular, so you should feel it in about five minutes or so. I know it sounds stupid, but just try to relax and not move.” I slowly adjusted her head and shifted to get a better angle on the rear, not the best, but it would have to do. She was scrunched up on her left side with her head on my lap. Her blood had soaked my jeans and filled one of my hiking boots. I tried to make her as comfortable as possible. Hammer leaned in to get a closer look.

  “Will she sleep?”

  “I hope so.”

  In almost a whisper he asked, “Do we have the resources and people to handle this?”

  “No. We’ll get her on O2 back at the barn, but right now, we have to keep her warm. We need blankets,” I whispered back.

  “Let’s hope she sleeps.” He reached, took her rifle, and looked it over. “Use this first. It’s on semi and is gonna buck, so don’t try to go auto. Burn the ammo and back to the shotgun. Don’t let them catch up. We can’t lead them back to the barn, so it’s an additional ten miles and we have to go through a village, might have a hundred or two at most.” He handed me the AK47.

  Only about a hundred or two, hell, what were we worried about? Did Hammer really call it a village?

  We drove on, but at a reduced speed. We had enough distance, so we could now afford the luxury of caution. The bleeding was slowing down and her breathing became more regular. We passed half a dozen vehicles every mile or so. Most were empty and more than a few showed signs that the egress was forced. We did pass a couple that had zombies trapped inside. They just banged on the windows as we went by. Then we passed one that had dead bodies, real dead bodies, dead bodies that had not reanimated. These were people trapped in their cars, possibly dying of dehydration, lack of some medication, a heart attack, a stroke, or anything but a zombie bite. If we’re not all infected, how the hell did Lucy get it? We stopped at an apparently abandoned RV. Hammer jumped out and casually went inside as if it was his. A few minutes later, he came out holding a couple of pillows, some thick homemade quilts and a six-pack of bottled water. We both carefully wrapped Allison as best we could. The pillows kept her head at the right height and freed me to move to a better defensive position.

  After ten minutes, we crested a small hill that overlooked the town and it gave us a clear three hundred and sixty degree view. Nothing was sneaking up on us unnoticed. The town could be called a village. It was essentially just a Main Street with a church on either end. In between there were a dozen shops lining both sides of the road. Cars and trucks scattered about but nothing that looked impassable. Roy and Hammer spent some time just staring through the binoculars. I was on the ‘everything but the town watch’, and things were looking nice and quiet. Allison was visibly relaxed as the morphine took hold. It wouldn’t peak for another forty-five minutes. This gave me time to reflect. Things started out okay, but now we are going to lose two members in two days. I am going to be intimately involved in the deaths of two people I don’t really know, and that just seems wrong. I’ve never heard of someone contracting the virus other than through a scratch or a bite, except of course, the occasional pulmonary infection. I know it’s cruel, but a small part of me wanted to see Allison live long enough to find out if she is infected.

  “The town is not as infested as I thought and it looks like we should cruise through with ease. John, your assignment is simple. Keep our back clear. Just make sure you let Hammer know if things start to get out of hand. We got some traffic to avoid, so this won’t be any kind of speed racer run.” Roy motioned for me to lean closer.

  “How does she look?”

  “Roy, I haven’t taken any vitals and I need to put in an IV. If you can give me just ten minutes, I will do that and let you know what I think, okay?”

  He begrudgingly gave me the time. She was looking pale and used up, but not in pain. I couldn’t tell how much blood she had lost but it was significant. My hands were sticky, I had problems getting the BP cuff on, and trying to auscultate was hopeless. Low blood pressure, high heart rate, a capillary refill time of almost six seconds; she was way into decompensatory shock. Anymore significant blood loss and she will fall into irreversible shock and death. I washed my hands with bottled water, getting the gloves on was far harder than doing the IV. The morphine was now in full force and Allison drifted.

  “Guys, she is sleeping. She has very low blood pressure, a rapid heart and respiratory rate. All this is from the shock and blood loss. We’ll keep her warm and hydrated. Her bleeding has slowed down considerably. Hammer, whoever put these kits together knew their shit.”

  “Thanks, John. They were made by my wife. She was a registered ER nurse.” We did not make eye contact and I knew I had stumbled into a place I should not be. The look from Roy said it all, no more questions about Hammer and his family. I gave him a quick nod.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines.” Roy fired her up.

  The road dropped down into the town, meaning we would have at least a mile with no coverage and be the only thing moving. Everyone who cared would know we were coming. Fortunately, the last half-mile or so was straight, and we could anticipate some of the obstacles. The first was a tractor-trailer on its side, blocking all the asphalt. No problem, we’re in a Hummer! As we rounded the overturned cab, I saw the driver, now a zombie. He was covered in blood, probably in his fifties; mostly bald, beer belly, and a badly broken right leg. The trucker was stuck at the bottom of his cab with a useless leg, not realizing he would never get out the broken passenger window directly above him. There were more and more cars, as we got closer to the town. Some were scattered on the road and it was easy to either go around, or push them aside. As we got closer, the zombies got thicker.

  “I got two, rear and coming fast!” I lined the AK up and they dropped like flies. I sighted the second group and pulled the trigger. I got off exactly one round. The AK-47 made a funny sound and stopped firing. I felt us slowing down but did not look back. Three more, then five behind them.

  “I broke Allison’s gun. We have eight on our ass! Let’s move.” I grabbed the shotgun, pumped, fired, and missed. How could I be firing at something so close with a shotgun, and miss? The second shot took down the lead. Okay, let’s get real. I positioned myself on top of the booty we had just acquired from Joshua’s and aimed for the chest. I got four in fewer than ten seconds, none got up. Hammer started to help and it was over before it started. Roy had slowed to get around a massive pile-up. The passageway was tight and if there were a few more like this, we could be toast. We weaved our way through and Main Street went by in a flash. Once we had cleared the town, things got easier, but for whatever reason, there were more cars and more isolated zombies.

  Eventually, we reached a point where the coast looked clear. Allison was still on a morphine high whi
ch was a good thing, since there was not much more we could do for her. Her temperature had dropped to a hundred and one. Both blood pressure and heart rate were also looking better, but only slightly. Roy tried to contact the Winnies, but got no reply. Hammer used the time to top off the gas tank and do a quick inspection of the vehicle.

  “John, sorry, but I feel awfully vulnerable just sitting here.”

  “No problem, Roy. This type of trauma is out of my league. Hey, Hammer, do we have oxygen back with the Winnies?”

  “Yeah. Two, both full.”

  “Thanks, we’ll need them. Well, Roy, let’s get the hell out of Dodge.” It was a good thing too, since, as we pulled away, a group of five came tearing ass from around a school bus about a hundred yards behind us. I didn’t waste ammo and just watched them slowly fade away. I wish it could be that simple.

  “Fuck me!” It was Hammer. For a couple of hundred yards, the road was straight and clear. Unfortunately, this ended in a massive pile-up of cars, trucks, ambulances, and just about every vehicle you could imagine. The road itself was completely blocked and the shoulders did not look all that promising, since on either side was a stonewall, not the old quaint New England type, but a modern one that was probably reinforced with steel and concrete. Done in a series of tiers, the wall was very beautiful. Unfortunately, it was really in our way. We moved on maybe fifty yards or so and came to a stop. Hammer was once again standing, scanning the scene, and swearing under his breath.

  “Shit. We have to leave, Roy!”

  “Roger that. John, is Allison secure?” I dropped the shotgun and went for the seatbelt. Everything was covered in blood, spent casings, and bandages, so this was going to take me a second.

  “Just go, Roy.” It took more than a second, but I did find the buckle. She didn’t have to move much and when secured, I looked up to see what Roy might have in mind. Holy crap! We have to go back. Hammer turned around, kneeled up on the passenger seat, and started shooting over my shoulder. I grabbed the shotgun and sat on Allison’s legs, everything you touched was tacky from the drying blood. Roy then did something really remarkable. There was a set of stone stairs normally used to get over the wall. The base was beveled to give it some sort of artistic flair. Roy used this as a way to get the driver’s side wheels on the top corner of the second tier, and we rode up over the fist car and inched our way forward at this crazy angle for about forty yards, very Indiana Jones type stuff. I let Hammer take care of trouble and held Allison to keep her from being knocked about.

  “Everyone hold on tight!” With a loud bang, we came off the wall. On crashing with the road, all of us were basically body slammed, but hey, we cleared the pileup. I immediately looked to see how Allison was doing and it was not good. She was awake, in pain, and bleeding profusely. This time there was some pulsing of blood. Her breathing was fast and sharp. She looked at me, scared.

  “I need more compresses!” As Hammer worked the medical kit and I tried to stop the bleeding, we got hit. At least three from the driver’s side and they came close to tipping us over, at least it felt that way to someone who has never done any real off-roading. The zombies seemed to get to the vehicle at the exact same time and this freaked me out. Roy hit the gas even though he would have to slalom a couple of wrecks ahead of us.

  I went back to Allison. She was losing color and her eyes were closed. She was rapidly going into the later stages of hypovolemic shock. It would not be long now; she had lost just too much blood. Even in the real world, the only hope for this type of wound would be to have a magic teleport machine and get her to a Trauma One facility with a surgical team standing by. Her lips were moving and I bent down and got as close as possible without getting any drool on me.

  She gurgled “… the people, shall not perish from the earth.” With that, she opened her eyes. She was not afraid or sad, just serene…and a little bit confused. She reached out and we held hands.

  “John?” Her voice sounded like she was talking through a wet sponge.

  “I am right next to you, Allison.” Her eyes were now open but not focusing on anything.

  “Good luck.” Her grip relaxed, her eyes glazed over, and she died.

  “Okay, got the compresses.” Hammer turned and it took only a brief glance. “Ah, goddamn it!”

  Yes, you are right on that one, Hammer. I just stared at Allison, pulled the Ruger, piled all the bandages and gauze in one place on the side of her head, and fired. I turned and sure enough, there were two zombies running crazy fast right behind. I took careful aim and even with the bouncing of the Hummer and my slippery sticky hand, I dropped both with five shots. My first handgun zombie kill, and it was very satisfying. More were off in the distance, but too far away, for now.

  I didn’t know Allison. I knew nothing of substance about her, but I was sad she was dead. Weird, I didn’t feel this way with Lucy. My mind started this crazy, almost jingle-like loop, turning the old spelling pneumonic into something else, ‘I before we, except after z.’ The world had been all about me. Yes, I had friends, students, and Liz was in the process of filling in a hole I didn’t know I had, but it was always about me. The plague had forced a change in my priorities and opened my eyes. Did I really need all of this to open my eyes? I think I am going insane.

  The rest of the trip was zigzagging around abandoned vehicles and avoiding the occasional group, never more than half a dozen or so. Twice, we slowed down for some small gangs who had cut us off, but all in all, it was clear sailing. Fortunately, there was no one around where we needed to open the gate and turn off for the barn. We got beside Winnie Two and killed the engine. Everyone came out to greet us. Paul asked about the oil, glanced at me, and stopped dead in his tracks. In fact, everyone stopped as soon as they saw me. Matilda and Madeline quickly spun and went back into the barn. Leslie even put her camera down. I looked around thinking something must be going on behind me. I then realized I was absolutely drenched in Allison’s blood.

  Hammer got out and in a restrained bark said, “We lost Allison. We have the oil. Let’s get to work. Lizzy, would you take care of John.” With that, he maneuvered most of them back into the barn. I got out and went to Liz. “When is this going to stop?” She asked.

  In my shocked, fatigued, and slightly unbalanced state, my first thought was, ‘I can tell you exactly when this will stop.’ Fortunately, I went for the lesser of two evils.

  “It’s not going to.” I then noticed I was holding a plastic jug with a smiling pickle on a big green faded sticker full of individually wrapped beef jerky sticks and Slim Jims. There were lots of bloody handprints on the plastic. In fact, the whole outside of the jug was a mess.

  “Hey, Zack, here you go, brother, give this to Paul.”

  “Thanks.” He didn’t look me, just quickly grabbed the jug and walked away.

  Roy pulled a few men over and was saying something about perimeter, or was it packing? I just kind of spaced out and looked at the ground. Okay, we traded a life for the group’s best chance of living. We had to fix the Winnie and get the hell to the coast. After today’s raid, one thing was clear; we did not have the firepower or provisions to hold this place.

  I felt, rather than saw, Liz approach. “I’m very sorry, sweetie. Let’s get you cleaned up. There is a water pump in the front yard, stay right here.” She left to find a bucket. She sounded like I would sound when talking to someone you are not quite sure is all there. Samuel and Nancy were watching from the front porch. They came down the stairs and Nancy put her hand to her mouth when she got closer.

  “There was a freak accident and it killed a team member named Allison, I’m fine, at least physically, I think. We did get the oil and some extra ammo, but no sign of Joshua.” At least to me, it sounded like I was underwater, not on the same plane of reality as everyone else.

  Elizabeth came over and handed me a face cloth and a bar of soap. “Strip.” She then pumped a bucket of water. What are the odds that for a second day in a row, I would be standing nak
ed, potentially infected, looking like shit, in front of strangers?

  “John, this is going to be cold and we got zombies nearby. Let’s remember to keep the theatrics in the mime range. We’re talking Marcel Marceau here, now bend over.”

  What the hell was Liz talking about? Holy crap, that water is cold! I had leaned over so she could rinse my head first, and was looking down when Liz poured. The grass instantly turned red.

  “Sorry.”

  When I did look up, Nancy was whispering into Samuel’s ear. After a minute, he simply nodded and walked back to the house. Several more bucket loads and I was starting to get cold, like hypothermic cold, and looked about for a towel.

  “Just one more. Samuel went to get you something and you need to use more soap.”

  By the time he made it back, Liz got me with four more dousings. Bitch! He handed me a neatly folded pile of clothes with a towel on top. It was a pair of Farmer John jeans and a faded John Deere t-shirt.

  “You keep them.” I looked at the Farmer Johns, the shirt, and then looked at Samuel, and we both started to laugh as I put them on.

  “Thank you very much, Samuel.”

  As we headed back to the barn, several people were heading to the pump. I assumed it was to get water to clean the Hummer.

  Liz stopped me, “Sorry about being naked and so cold, but getting you cleaned up was priority number one. John, look at the bright side. At the very least, we are sure you haven’t been bitten.” My silence must have said it all. “Was it bad?”

  “Yes, very,” he said.

  We went inside and Hammer, of course, was the first to comment.

  “Now all you need is the cap and some chewing tobacco, and son, you might be in.” This made me smile.

  He came over and lowered his voice, “John, we’re going to bury her next to Lucy. You go rest.”