“Did you bring enough layers?” she asked, gesturing to him. “I think some of your old clothes are still here somewhere.” She looked at the closet with dismay.
Henry laughed. “I’m fine, sis. You don’t have to go digging in the closet again.” He spread the flaps of his jacket. “I’m wearing Under Armour.”
“All right. The bags are piled by the door.”
“How much did you pack?” Henry asked, concern in his voice.
“Probably too much,” Raven grinned. “But,” she gesticulated into the air, “the bags are numbered one through four in the order of importance. Bag one being the most crucial with food, water and basic medical supplies.” They were all black duffel bags and necessitated numbering. She’d done it in white paint with broad strokes.
Henry’s lips compressed and he was obviously holding back laughter. “What’s in bag four?”
“Entertainment,” Raven replied. “You know, books and magazines and things like that.” She answered. “I also packed a deck of cards.” She grinned. When they were growing up, she and Henry had epic battles of Go Fish, Gin Rummy and Hearts. The games got very serious and there were a few times when one or both of them ended up in tears. Mom and Dad had tried taking the cards away after some of the bad fights, but Raven had always pleaded to get them back, promising they’d behave better.
Henry laughed. “That’s cool. If I remember correctly you were a pretty good Rummy player, sis.”
She bowed sarcastically, smiling.
Rocky barked, shattering the calm. She and Henry shared a look.
“Is someone outside?” Raven asked, shushing her dog. Rocky continued to growl menacingly.
“I don’t know, maybe,” Henry responded. “Let’s go check it out.”
Henry crept to the window and Raven signaled Rocky to follow.
The dog acquiesced, walking behind her stealthily, head lowered and tail held out straight. The fur along his spine stood at attention.
Raven and Henry stood on either side of the large bay window.
Henry had made sure to close the rest of the curtains, not wanting anyone alive or dead and walking around to peer in.
Raven nodded and pulled the curtain open a sliver. What she saw froze her breath in her throat. Mr. McNairy was walking just inches from her, totally nude and covered in drying blood. His bulbous belly had large chunks bitten out of it and his freckled skin had a distinctly blue pallor.
“Gross,” Henry murmured. “His whang is just dangling there.”
“Shut up,” Raven said, gripping the curtains.
Mr. McNairy plodded through her yard, crushing her azaleas underfoot. He reached the driveway, veered around Henry’s truck and continued down the road.
“Whew,” Raven sighed, leaning back against the wall. “Are you sure we have to go out there?” She knew the answer. Henry was right. It wasn’t safe here. All of the open windows that she loved as they brought in so much light were dangerous now and they had no sure way of covering them up.
Henry nodded. “I don’t see any way to stay,” he answered, still looking out of the window. “We should go now, while the coast is clear.”
She could see her brother’s tense expression in the crease of his brow. Raven made a decision. Whatever happened they would stay together, she, Henry and Rocky. “Okay,” she said, voice firm. “You grab two bags and I’ll get the others.”
Walking softly across the carpet and keeping Rocky at a close heel, Raven picked up bags one and three. Henry grabbed the remaining two and they strode to the front door.
“Are you ready?” he asked, swallowing audibly.
“Yes,” Raven answered.
Henry nodded and opened the door a crack. He peered out. There was no one around. They rushed to the truck, tossing the bags in the back — excluding bag one — and got in. Rocky jumped in the back and burrowed beneath a blanket. Henry roared the truck to life and pulled away, cruising down Dolorous Way and out onto the main road.
Three Hours Later
Thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling through the heavens. The sun was well into the sky and had warmed the day a bit, especially the air within the truck. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, rolling in quickly.
Henry had taken off his jacket and laid it on the seat between them.
“How much farther?” Raven asked, glancing at her brother. His face was in profile, prominent jaw and deep eyes. His attention was on the road.
His eyes moved to her, expression tense. “Another couple of hours at least. The cabin is secluded, which is good for us, but it takes a while to get there.” He grew quiet. The only sounds were the rush of the road beneath their tires.
She noticed that Henry had stopped mentioning Sarah’s name and she couldn’t say she blamed him. He referred to her cabin as the cabin and she had been careful to do the same.
“Secluded is good,” she said quietly. “What kind of heating does it have?”
“There’s a fire place and a stove and last time I was there was a ton of wood and hella bags of pellets.” He turned his eyes back to the road, having to navigate a sharp turn.
There was an abandoned car on the road. An old Volkswagen van, covered in rust and flaking paint. It’s back left tire hung over a precipitous drop. They cruised by it with just enough space, hugging the inner side of the road.
“That’s good,” Raven responded, glancing back at the van.
Rocky barked from the back of the truck and Raven opened the sliding window. “What’s up, boy?” she asked and was greeted by a volley of happy yips and a warm, wet tongue across her face. “Blech,” she spat, wiping her cheek on her sleeve.
Henry snorted. “Shut that window, sis.” He laughed. “Your dog’s drooling all over the seat.”
Raven smiled, pushed Rocky’s head back through the window and shut it. He stared at them through the glass for a bit then turned in a circle and burrowed back beneath the large quilted blanket that was serving as his bed.
A heavy silence fell in the truck, and Raven stared out of the window again. Now the sun was totally obscured by clouds and it looked like it might rain soon. She hoped it would hold off until they got there. The cab would get pretty crowded with Rocky in the middle.
Tall pine trees lined the road, green and fresh smelling. Their needles littered the ground, covering a soft layer of decaying vegetation. It felt peaceful out here if she could only block out the awful things they’d seen. Raven closed her eyes and imagined that she and her brother were just going on a trip and Moon Pie was safe at home. She could almost believe it.
“Fuck!” Henry yelled and slammed on the breaks.
Raven’s eyes snapped open. There was an older couple standing in the middle of the road. They looked like they had seen their share of trouble. The man was tall with and skinny, wearing blue jeans and a button up shirt. His companion was short and round, wearing a floral print dress with white long johns beneath it. She had one boot on and the other foot was wrapped in cloth and tied with a belt.
“What do you think they want?” Raven asked, nervousness curling inside her belly.
“What we have,” Henry answered. His voice was quiet and full of menace.
Raven picked up her axe from the dashboard; it had a custom sheath made of dark leather. “We’re not giving them shit,” Raven spoke, picking up on her brother’s tone. She felt a bit bad for the couple but they couldn’t jeopardize their own safety. The world had changed.
“Fuck no,” Henry responded.
The man took a step toward the truck and Rocky growled threateningly.
The woman jerked in surprise, eyes widening as she took in Rocky’s bulk. He had crawled from beneath the blanket that rendered him invisible and stood in the back of the truck, hackles up and barking.
“We just need help,” the man said, yelling to be heard over the cacophonous din.
“What do you think?” Henry whispered to Raven. He sounded like he felt sorry for the strangers. Raven wondered w
hat had changed his mind.
“I don’t know,” she responded.
“My husband,” the woman said, gesturing to the man. “He was wounded and we just need bandages. Show them honey,” she spoke, turning to him.
The man raised his shirt and displayed a perfect human bite mark, ringed in crusty blood.
“Oh, hell no,” Henry said. Then more quietly to Raven. “He’s been bitten. That’s how it transmits.”
“How what transmits?” she asked, not taking her eyes away from the couple.
“This zombie thing,” Henry answered. “It’s like a virus.” His voice was low and tense. “If you get bitten then you’re infected.”
“That’s bad,” Raven intoned.
“Please,” the woman begged. “You must help us. There is no one else around for miles.” She glanced at her husband then with a look of pleading, back to Raven. “He has a high fever. It spiked a couple of hours after he was bitten by the neighbor’s daughter.”
“I thought you said there was no one else around,” Henry spoke. His expression was mistrustful.
“We can’t go back there,” the woman answered incredulously. She shifted her feet. The fabric that covered her left foot had begun to loosen and her big toe stuck out. It was blue from the cold.
There was something vulnerable about that toe and Raven sighed. She reached into her pack — bag number one — and pulled out a roll of bandage, gauze pads and some topical antibiotic. Debating, she decided to grab a pair of warm socks.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, sis,” Henry spoke, touching her shoulder lightly.
“I know it’s not,” Raven responded. “But if we don’t help them, who will?” She felt so bad for the woman, not knowing that her husband was already doomed, already dead, she just had to do something.
The woman licked her lips and took a step closer to the truck, holding her husband’s hand loosely in her own. His fingers trembled. It was like he was getting sicker right in front of them. His face had an unhealthy pallor.
“I’m going to roll down the window,” Raven said, wrapping the bandages, pads and antibiotic cream in the socks. “Stay back and I’ll toss this to you.” Every fiber of her being screamed that this was a mistake but it was too late to stop now, she had made up her mind and once Raven decided on something she did not waver.
The woman nodded and took a few steps back, pulling her husband along with her.
Raven rolled down the window and just as she was about to toss the bundle the woman surged forward, grabbing Raven’s wrist in both of her hands. Her palms were fever hot and rough with callouses.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Raven exclaimed, yanking ineffectively at her arm.
Rocky growled and barked.
“Stay in the back, Rocky,” Henry commanded. The dog, good boy that he was, obeyed. He continued to growl and stare at the woman menacingly.
She dropped the bundle but the woman didn’t even look at it. Her eyes were wide in her wrinkled face, manic and desperate. “Get out of the truck!” she screamed. “Rob!” she hollered at her husband without looking back. “Get the other one.”
Raven glanced at Rob and saw with relief that his getting days were done. He swayed on his feet, eyes darting around, looking at everything and nothing. There were red lines creeping from beneath his collar like a virulent blood infection.
“What the hell lady?” Henry asked, laughing to himself. Her brother clearly didn’t think they were in any real danger.
Raven had to agree. While the old woman had surprised her all she was doing was yanking on Raven’s arm and none too hard either.
“Rob?” the woman questioned, turning.
Her grip loosened and Raven pulled her arm free, pushing the woman away with her palm. She fell back onto her butt with a thump inches away from a steep drop, feet splayed out in front of her. The makeshift shoe had fallen away, leaving her foot bare to the elements. Her toes were definitely blue, but the sight did not evoke further sympathy.
“Roll the window up, Raven,” Henry spoke quietly. His voice was charged.
She did, glancing at her brother and back to the woman. She looked defeated now and Raven didn’t think she’d cause them any more trouble. She said as much to her brother.
“Maybe not,” Henry replied. “But look at Rob.”
Movement caught her eye. Rob’s eyes glazed over, turning a hazy red. He swayed on his feet, taking one shuffling step toward his wife then another.
“We should leave,” Raven said, thinking of Moon Pie and her violent death. She did not want the same thing to happen to Rocky.
Henry glanced in the back of the truck. “He’s buried beneath the blanket again,” he said, clearly intuiting her concern. “If we move now we may attract the attention of Undead Rob.”
Raven snorted quietly. Her dog had pretty good survival instincts.
“Rob?” the woman asked, sounding unsure.
She picked herself up and dusted off her bum. Slipping, she nearly fell over the precipitous drop but hardly noticed; her attention focused on her husband. A large rock, displaced by her heel, tumbled down the steep face of the cliff, bouncing and ricocheting. The sounds it made echoed through the mountains.
Raven wondered what the woman’s screams would sound like with such reverberation. She was sure she would find out soon.
Rob moved disjointedly toward his wife, making a low growling noise. His head jerked back twice and he snarled, expression feral.
“Honey?” the woman asked, clearly slow to get the message. “Are you okay?” She reached for him halfheartedly, lifting her arms then letting them fall.
“Here it comes,” Henry spoke quietly.
Raven glanced at her brother then back at the Undead Rob. He scented something on the air, tipping his head back, nose wrinkling. It would’ve been a comical expression under different circumstances.
The woman’s face was stricken and she looked directly at Raven. “Help me,” she mouthed, eyes wide and frightened.
“Don’t open the door,” Henry cautioned. “Once these undead fuckers get going they’re wicked strong and fast.”
The woman opened her mouth to speak but Rob was on her, quick as a flash. He pushed her down to the ground, face in the gravel. She screamed and thrashed beneath him. He leaned in and bit the side of her neck, sending blood spurting in a wide arch. She shrieked and thrashed harder, but it was no use. Rob had a death grip on her neck, his hands dug into her hair, keeping her down. After a while she stilled, dress soaked in her own ichor. The zombie that used to be Rob was taking large mouthfuls of flesh from her throat, leaving bare glistening trachea and torn muscle. He moved down to feed on the fat flab of her arm.
Her screams echoed just like Raven had imagined.
Raven gulped audibly. Part of her was ashamed for not helping the woman but mostly she was grateful it wasn’t her out there.
“Let’s go,” she said, keeping her voice low.
Henry nodded and put the truck into gear, lightly pressing the gas. They rolled away from the bloody scene and Raven let out a sigh of relief. Before they turned down the next bend in the road, she glanced back. Undead Rob stood over the desecrated body of his wife the lower half of his face covered in blood; it dripped from his chin. He watched them go but made no move to follow.
“Maybe we should get Rocky in the cab with us,” Henry said, glancing over his shoulder. He sounded a trifle more nervous than before. No matter how many zombie flicks he’d seen the real thing put them to shame.
You can’t smell the blood in movies, Raven thought, shivering. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Pull over and I’ll get him real quick.”
“Okay,” Henry agreed. “Let’s put a little distance between us and that first.” He gestured behind him without looking.
Raven stared out of the window, watching the rolling hills turn into steep mountains as they ascended quickly into the Rockies. It had begun to mist heavily and everything was green and damp. The afternoon
sky was dark and filled with ominous clouds. Thunder rumbled off in the distance, rolling through the sky.
“This is really happening,” Raven spoke, mostly to herself.
“It sure fucking is,” Henry responded, pulling into a long-abandoned rest area. There was a large outcropping of rock, covered with asphalt and those stationary telescopes that tourists look through for fifty cents. Two dilapidated port-a-johns sat next to the rocks, green paint flaking off. The door on one swung open with a breeze, banging against the rocks. Raven jumped and laughed nervously.
Henry slowed to a stop in the middle of the parking lot, far away from any trees or picnic benches that anything could hide behind.
Raven reached for the door handle.
“Be careful,” Henry spoke, looking around. “Take your axe.”
Raven grabbed her weapon, tightening her fingers around it. “I will,” she said, voice breathy.
It was a strange feeling, being afraid to get out of the truck and perform something as simple as getting her dog into the cab. Henry was stronger and could probably do it faster but she couldn’t drive so he stayed behind the wheel.
“Come on, Rocky,” she said, feigning cheerfulness. “Let’s go.”
Rocky poked his head up from beneath the blankets and sneezed.
“Come over here,” Raven said, putting the tailgate down and beckoning.
A twig snapped behind her and Raven whirled, axe held slightly away from her body, heart in her throat. Nothing moved in the trees; a cool breeze skittered a cluster of leaves across the parking lot in a blur of red and orange. She could hear Rocky walking across the truck bed, toenails clicking in the metal. She thought absently that it was about time to trim his claws again. Then he was behind her, breath hot on the back of her neck. She stared at the trees, trunks of pines, maples and elders, and waited. The only sounds were the pattering of rain and Rocky’s panting. She turned back to her dog. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.
“Get down,” she commanded. “Don’t run off.”
Rocky jumped from the truck bed and stood by her side. He stared into the trees. A noise came floating on the breeze, quiet at first then louder. The shuffle of feet on the ground caused a shiver to run the length of Raven’s spine.
Undead Series (Book 1): Blight of the Dead Page 3