I woke Brittany during the night, so I could sleep. In the morning, we would descend on the store and I wanted to be fresh.
Sounds of a scuffle woke me. I slept next to my gun. I grabbed it and ran to the living room, zombies were attacking. No, it wasn’t zombies. I saw a scuffle between the men and Brittany. She was trying to hold Jones back.
Jones kicked Thompson. Thompson was on the floor, in a ball, holding himself. Don and Charley were there too. Don assisted Brittany in restraining Jones, while Charley was free to kick a covered Thompson.
“What the hell?” I raced over.
With the screaming and shouting, I couldn’t make heads or tails as to what was going on. We shouted, shoved, and tugged. Finally, I took charge and walloped Charley. Then with a little persuasion, I got the others to stop.
“What happened?” I yelled.
“That fucker,” Jones shouted, red-faced, “I caught him at your bedroom door, leering.”
The thought of it gave me the chills. I knew I didn’t like Thompson for a reason. I looked at him, he didn’t deny it. Thompson’s face was bloody and he lay on the floor with his usual smirk.
“Well?” I asked.
Thompson grinned and shrugged. “It’s the end of the world as we know it,” he tried singing.
“You motherfucker!” Jones tried to get to him again. It took all of us to hold him back.
“You don’t deny it?”
The man only shrugged. “Live a little, while you have the chance.” He cleared his throat. “Do not go gentle into that good night. Party like it’s 1999.” Thompson’s laughter chilled me to the bone. The man had lost it.
I acted. “The basement. Lock his ass in the basement.”
Don and Charley released Jones. Brittany opened the door, releasing the foul stench of death. I looked at Thompson, he deserved it. The men grabbed Thompson and hauled him to the basement. Personally, I hoped they would throw him down the stairs and crack his head wide open.
None of us cared about the smell or the darkness, we got him to his new home in record time. Charley bolted the door and we left him there to rot. I could hear him banging on the door as we left. He was laughing, maybe he had snapped.
“You can’t leave me here. You will be back. You need me! You will be back. You need-”
Brittany slammed the door shut, cutting him off. Thank god. “What a creep.”
I turned to Jones to question him. “Are you positive?”
Jones looked at me as if I were crazy. He gritted his teeth. “He was peeking through the door and one of his hands was in his pants. You tell me!”
“Sorry.”
I hate to admit it and never would, but I felt better. I had my answer to the elusive Thompson. It couldn’t have been us, Brittany and I; we had been with him all this time. It must be Katy. Thompson is a pedophile. That was the missing piece. I felt relief, knowing I wasn’t his target. Then I thought of Katy. I was a bigger jackass than Thompson. How could I put my welfare above a helpless child’s?
I wanted to go back and kick him myself. One thing I will say for Thompson, he was right, we did need him. I had a feeling he held back on what he told us. I couldn’t see us leaving him there in the morning, yet I had no solution. The morning would take care of itself, I thought. Jones is the boss; it’s his job to figure these things out.
“Britt? Where were you?” I asked.
Brittany’s face contorted. “I was on the front porch. Well, actually, I went around the back to check our perimeter. While I was there, I had to use the bathroom. He must have gone to the door at that time.”
My friend’s voice was low and full of remorse. I regretted asking the question.
“Let’s get some shuteye,” said Jones. “We got a lot of traveling in the morning.”
“What about Thompson?” I asked. “Are we leaving him here?”
“Damn straight,” said Charley. “We do him like they did me. We leave him a jug of water and some jerky. Somebody might come along and set him free.”
“Somebody might come along and eat him, too.” I countered.
“So what,” Charley said, his words venomous. “Do you get what he would have done to you, to that girl? He deserves no mercy, not one ounce!”
Charley was right, but it infuriated me. “Who made you god? If I remember correctly, you were the one chained to a wall in need of rescue not ten hours ago.”
“Shh,” said Brittany. “They maybe sound sleepers, but you two are going to wake the dead.”
“I’m sorry,” said Charley.
“Me, too,” I said. I wasn’t mad at him or Thompson. I knew what I was doing.
Every one sat in the living room. Brittany and I didn’t go back to our room and neither did Jones. For a while, no one spoke. To liven things up a bit, Brittany engaged everyone in a game of charades.
We were starting to unwind, when we heard this low groaning sound, coming from the bedroom. It grew louder. Zombies. “Ruthie! Katy!”
Jones was the closest to the door. He ran to it to save them. When he opened the door, we saw them. They were not being attacked by zombies, they were zombies. They howled and staggered out of the room toward us. Jones jumped out of the way of Ruthie’s grasp and fell back. Ruthie bent down to bite him and he kicked her and knocked her back.
I didn’t get a chance to see anymore, the little zombie, Katy, was on the move. She ran at me. Her red eyes fixed with hunger. I had no time to get to my gun and had removed my hammer to sleep. I punched her on the side of her head, knocking her back.
She leaped to her feet and came at me again. The surprising thing was that the flesh on one of her legs was missing completely. I had time to register that fact before the next attack. This time, I kicked her in her stomach— it was hard forgetting she wasn’t a sweet innocent child. At first I took it easy on her. Then I realized it is either her or me and I had plans to live another day. Fired up by thoughts of rejoining Simon, I looked for a weapon. My quick scan gave me nothing.
I ran into the kitchen to grab a chair, I could break it over her back. The chairs were wooden and once broken, I could use the pieces as weapons. Katy was quick. She was on me and grabbed me around my waist ready to bite me in my back. I fell forward and swung at her at the same time, knocking her loose. I sprang to my feet and ran around the table. She howled and lunged at me and I whacked her. She fell back and came again. With nothing more to think to do, I held up the chair to give myself more time to think. I needed a strategy fast. Before I could think of one, Charley came to my rescue. He had my gun and readied to whack her from behind with it. With his strength, it took two strong whacks and she was out. I closed my eyes and waited. I didn’t want to see, but I heard the final whack that flew bits of brains all over me. I wiped the goup away and opened my eyes.
“Thanks.”
He grinned. “No problem.”
That was all I could manage. If not for Charley, I might have lost my life. I was one of our best marksmen. With a gun, I am an all-powerful death machine. Without one, I resort to the stupid girl syndrome. I’m surprised I didn’t fall down and twist an ankle. Thank god I’m not blond.
Chapter 8
Morbid curiosity made me look down at Katy as I went by her. Her left eye was open, a tinge red, staring at me. The right side of her face was missing. A trail of blood scattered from the opening and was slowly seeping into the floor. Why was she so fast and so hard to kill?
I closed my eyes in prayer and memory of her before going into the living room. There, Charley and I saw the aftermath of their encounter. Brittany and Jones had blood on them, they stood over the bodies of Don and Ruthie.
We had gone through so many zombies, it was a daily thing. We hadn’t had a chance to change, so we had green blood piled on top of a darker, greenish-black, dried blood. We were alive, but looked a mess. At least we weren’t dead.
Don had a huge chunk torn out of his neck. Ruthie’s head lay smashed in pieces. Brittany’s once bent rifle, wa
s now in the shape of the letter ‘V’ and lay discarded among the bodies.
“We need something hard,” said Jones. He was looking down at the bodies.
“What?” I asked.
Brittany looked up at me. “Don got bit. We lost both guns and need something to finish him off with.”
I must have been in a fog, because I didn’t get it. Brittany had a pipe in her bag, why wasn’t she using it. I must be missing something. I looked at them for an answer. Brittany and Jones looked at me funny, as if something was wrong with me.
“He’s going to turn, Zee Zee.” Jones gave me a hard look.
All right, I will give him that one for free. If he calls me that again, it’s on. I broke the mutual gaze we shared to look at Don. He moved. They were correct. I didn’t think he was still alive. “Oh, I forgot about that part.”
We looked for something. I remembered my hammer and went back to the bedroom to get it. I stopped when I looked at the window. I went to it, double-checking the locks. It hadn’t been opened. Scanning the room, I saw no zombies. There were no holes in the walls from them breaking in; we would have heard that at least. How did they get in?
With confusion, I took the hammer and went back to the living room. I gave it to Jones, he was our leader and I didn’t want to do it myself. It’s time for him to do the parts of the job that make him the boss.
I stepped back and turned my head. Jones was quick. It only took one blow to remove Don’s brain. He was a nice guy. I should have spent more time getting to know him. Like Katy, I closed my eyes tight and remembered him.
“Poor bastard,” said Jones. “She was damn strong. She knocked me down and was about to rip into Dushell when —”
“He saved me, Zee.” Brittany finished for him. “He sacrificed himself for me. He said he was sorry. That’s the last thing he said to me, he said he was sorry.”
Brittany whimpered. I didn’t have to turn around to know it and didn’t want to see it anyway. She was tough as nails in a fight, better than half the guys in our squad. Still, she was human.
“How did they get in?” I wanted to change the subject.
“They must have come through a window.” Jones guessed.
“No,” I turned around. “I checked. The window in the bedroom is locked. And we were all in here with the front door locked.”
Brittany had the answer. “They were bitten before they came here, before we met them. I guess that’s what Don was sorry about.”
“Let’s check.”
I turned around and went to Ruthie’s body. She was covered in blood. I lifted her bloody dress because I saw nothing on her legs. On her right back leg was a bite mark with deep teeth impressions. Above that, a huge chunk was missing where the leg meets the hip. I saw bone. “Damn. She could have told us. How could she do that to her own child?”
“Love is blind,” said Brittany.
Charley scoffed. “Not for everyone.”
“Let’s cover them with sheets from the beds,” Jones said. “I doubt if any of us are going back to sleep.”
We covered the bodies and all four of us sat without talking. Brittany held my hand and now and then squeezed softly. We sat on the couch with Jones and stared at the front door. The sun would come up soon and we would be off. Charley sat across from us in a swivel chair. He would turn this way and that and the chair would creak. It provided most of our conversation.
It began to get light outside.
“What do we do about Thompson?” I asked.
“Leave him,” Charley blurted. Talking about Thompson made him angry. I can only assume he hated pedophiles. When I thought about the word, it brought up memories of Doctor Blake touching Simon’s shoulder. Anger wailed up in me.
“Fine, we leave him.”
“No, we don’t,” said Brittany. She looked appalled at my suggestion.
“We are not leaving him,” said Jones.
I was floored. “You’re the one who wanted to leave him in the first place. Weren’t you the one kicking him?”
“We are taking him,” said Jones. “End of discussion. We don’t leave our people behind.”
“Whatever,” I scoffed.
Charley, Brittany, and Jones went to the basement to get Thompson, I refused. I stayed in the living room, staring at their backs as they descended the stairs. Nothing fazed me, not even the smell that inflamed my nostrils. I stood looking at the door, waiting for them to return with Thompson.
It was just as I imagined it would be. Thompson’s smirk greeted me with an unbelievable force. I steeled myself and determined I would not crumble. I met his malicious grin with one of my own.
“Zee Zee, how are you? I hope you slept well.” Though he didn’t laugh, he was close to it.
Charley hit Thompson in the back and knocked him forward, causing the others to have to catch him. “Oops, sorry.”
Charley winked at me. I appreciated it, but showed no reaction.
“I said we don’t leave our people behind and I meant it.” Jones stared at me. “Thompson, you are free to go. If you come with us, you will be on your best behavior. And I will not tolerate mocking my people. If we find some ammo, I will shoot you myself. Are we clear?”
Thompson’s eyes were on me. “Of course.” Another smirk.
Being the closest to the door, I left out first. During the early hours, Brittany and I had packed. We marched down the road carrying packs. My stomach rumbled lightly. Very soon I will satisfy it.
Chapter 9
They say an army travels on its stomach, I now believe that. Being a woman, I have to add that a good pair of boots helps. Thank god for all the women of the military who came before me. I thank them for making sure I had comfortable boots. Though it helped, if we didn’t take a break or reach the city soon, I was sure I would wear the bottom out of my boots.
We stayed as close to the trees as we could for most of the journey. When no trees were around us, we moved as fast we could, kind of like playing hide and seek with and unseen friend. In and out, behind whatever we could find until we reached city limits.
Something unexplainable was in the air. I smelled it as sure as I could see the buildings around us. It reminded me of little Katy. I had tried not to think of her, to block all the ugliness from my mind. I had been successful for the most part, but now it hit me and it hit hard.
I was in the back as we walked and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. Damn that smell or whatever it was, it had me. I couldn’t see our destination ahead, my only hope was that I could cry in silence and nobody would turn around. With my luck, it wouldn’t happen, but I could hope.
It took two hours for us to arrive. Life had showed me a kindness. No one saw me and I had time to wipe my tears and get strong again. The sun recharged me. I could face the world again.
We made it to the store and saw the parking lot was a mess. We sat our bags under a tree; there was no need to take them inside.
“Baker, watch our six.”
“Yes, sir.”
We approached the store’s front entrance and were ready to go inside. I was last, I could watch our rear, but with what? Not only did I not have any ammo, I had no rifle if I had the ammo. I looked around to see if anyone saw us, they hadn’t. I stepped through the broken glass door behind the others to take my first look inside the store.
It was a large department store with a food area. Inside, bodies lay rotting. The smell was not bad, I can’t say why. Part of it, I know is the army’s doing. We cleared and burned as many bodies as we could find and sprayed others with a thick chemical that masked their decomposition smell.
Most citizens had evacuated, which helped lower the numbers tremendously. The scattered dead we saw were few and far between.
Brittany and I had occupied ourselves with a strategy commiserate of the age-old fifteen-minute shop and grab. We hadn’t won a contest, but we acted as if we had. She had a flashlight and would go to the back of the store w
ith a shopping cart. I would grab a cart and concentrate on the front, without the need for a flashlight. Jones got in on the talk and he made requests for him and Charley. I told them I could handle the front, leaving the rest of them to tackle the food and weapons situation.
Knowing the layout of Walmart Supercenters, I immediately looked up front for batteries. The size didn’t matter; we needed them for radios and flashlights. The store was a wreck. In some areas you couldn’t pass by because of everything that was in the aisles. I began my search and found only one pair of ‘C’ batteries for Brittany’s flashlight. That was something.
Further into the store, I found three packages of penlight flashlights. And then I made my find, beef jerky. My face lit up when I saw a row of jerky still on its hooks. I hoped for just a miracle find.
The store had probably been cleaned out dozens of times in the last two years. I would guess that people had come in as small groups, did their damage and left. They must have thought like us and came for the canned goods.
One, two, three . . . oh my god, eight large bags. Thank you, Jesus. I threw them in my cart and gave up the search for more goodies. I wanted clothes. Brittany was comfortable without a bra, I wasn’t. Somehow I felt cheap and tawdry when I didn’t wear one. Scavengers like us, would spend all their time in the grocery section, so I knew the clothes would be untouched, for the most part, I was right.
Half the clothes were on the floor, trampled with bloody shoe prints. The light faded, so I popped open one of my penlight flashlights. Normally, I wouldn’t have, but for what I was after, I needed light to read the small printed numbers on the packages. Weaving through the mess, I found them. Bras were neatly lined up on their hangers. I moved to the C-section and settled for a 36C. If I admitted the truth, I would have grabbed the plentiful 38D. I lie to myself in such matters.
Brittany wouldn’t have wanted one, instead, I found us both sports bra and then a pack of panties each. I would grab socks on the way out. I needed to find sweats and T-shirts first. Jones had given me his and Charley’s measurements and I was told to grab a pair of jeans and a pair of sweats for each. Neither cared about shirts, however, they were adamant about pants.
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