Dead Country

by Bonnie Dee

  I stopped picturing the story and focused on searching for Jeff. The house around me was quiet except for the game music that swelled to a heroic crescendo over and over. I was shaking with nerves and didn’t have eyes enough to see in every direction at once. I felt certain the undead boy was sneaking up behind me, silently as a ghost and kept looking over my shoulder.

  I walked through every room on the first floor and found nothing but occasional streaks of blood on the wall. They were about the height a boy’s hand might be if the back of it brushed against the wall as he walked by. Just picturing Jeff as a zombie with bloodied hands and mouth and empty eyes made my stomach roll again. This time when I retched, I emptied the contents of my stomach onto the floor.

  As I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, a noise from upstairs—a creak of the floorboard above my head—jerked me back to high alert. My first instinct was to run from the house, but I hefted the knife in my hand and headed toward the stairs. You can do this. It’s just one little kid. You can handle him. You’ve got to contain this situation.

  I drew a deep breath and put my foot on the bottom step.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nine

  When Daylon wasn’t being a prick, he was actually a pretty cool guy. After we watched Jim kill the zombie outside the fence with a single shot, we continued to walk the perimeter and talk about fortifications. Daylon relaxed and shared ideas without being condescending. He was a smart guy, a history teacher before the disaster, and his hobby had been studying historic battles. He was a History Channel buff who could explain why William the Conqueror was so great and how Genghis Khan had managed to control most of Asia.

  It was refreshing to talk with an educated man. Not that good old Fes was stupid, but his interests didn’t match mine in the least. Chance had partnered us and no matter how many zombies we killed together, we’d never have anything but that in common.

  We ended our tour at the front gates. I showed Daylon the control room in the house we used as command central. Sarah Polley was watching the monitors that corresponded to the security cams. If she spotted any activity, she’d radio whichever patrol was nearest the hot spot. It was a pretty high tech set-up considering we’d cobbled it together from whatever equipment was available in town.

  “See, we’re not complete bumbling hicks.”

  “Never claimed you were,” Daylon replied. “But I still think you’re naïve if you believe you can hold out an entire winter here without fresh supplies.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  We left Sarah sitting in the room lit by the ghostly light of the monitors and headed back across town toward my house. I was freezing. The jacket I’d worn wasn’t heavy enough to cut the wind. Daylon’s warning about winter hit harder on such a cold day.

  “Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?” he asked suddenly. “I could use a smart guy like you on the road, somebody I could trust to get things done. You’re welcome to join us when we leave if you want.”

  My mind buzzed with the possibility. I’d wanted to leave for some time but hadn’t the courage to strike out alone. Being offered the chance to travel with a group, particularly a group which included Ashleigh, was an entirely different thing. My spirits rose at the offer, but sank as I recalled my earlier conversation with Fes. I had responsibilities in Durbinville. People were dependent on me and it wasn’t as easy to leave as I’d imagined. Invisible ropes bound me to this place.

  “I’ll think about it,” I answered.

  We walked faster as we neared my street. I’d never gotten around to eating breakfast and was looking forward to soup or whatever else was left in my cupboards. We turned onto Sycamore in time to see a man run across the road halfway down the block.

  “Oh Lord, what do we have here?” Daylon broke into a trot and I kept pace with him.

  As we approached my house, I felt a sense of impending danger, especially after seeing another figure moving quickly farther down the block. Somehow I didn’t think they were simply out jogging. Something was happening in the neighborhood.

  Daylon ran toward the man, calling his name. I paused long enough to pull my hatchet from my belt then hurried to catch up.

  “What the hell’s going on, Aaron?” Daylon demanded when we reached the large, sweating man with the panicked eyes.

  “Lainie’s dead. Jeff’s missing. We think he’s turned and we’re looking for him,” he panted.

  “Jesus Christ! Fuck!” Daylon growled.

  Terror flooded through me as I pictured another rampage of killing, and infection spreading through town. “We’ve got to warn people. We sound the tornado siren if there’s a breach.”

  Daylon gripped my arm. “Wait a minute. No need to panic everyone yet. Let’s try to contain this first.” He looked at Aaron. “How long ago did it happen?”

  “About an hour but maybe more. Ashleigh found Lainie around noon. She thought the attack had been pretty recent. She couldn’t find Jeff in the house and we’ve been searching the neighborhood since then.”

  “How many people are still living here?” Daylon asked.

  “About a dozen. But we can’t just look for him. We’ve got to give a warning.” I pulled free of his hand on my arm. “Too much time’s been wasted already.”

  Daylon shouted my name but didn’t try to stop me as I started back up the street. I didn’t run but kept up a brisk pace while scanning the yards for a glimpse of Jeff. He could have gone anywhere, but my money was on him heading for more living flesh even though he’d just gorged. From what I’d seen, if zombies had down time between feeds they kept on walking around killing.

  A movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned and my heart skittered like dog claws on a polished floor. Walking between two houses was a boy. Not a boy—a zombie. Jeff sauntered aimlessly, not in any particular hurry. I swallowed and loosened my arm by swinging my axe before heading toward him.

  No matter how many times I faced one of these creatures, my fear never lessened. No, that wasn’t quite true. That night when I’d encountered what remained of my mother killed it, I’d been much more terrified than I was now. These days I had more confidence when I fought a zombie, but with all my experience, my heart still pounded as I moved toward Jeff.

  He lifted his head, scenting the air, and started toward me. He looked normal, other than the jerky gait, until he drew close enough that I could see blood staining his face and obliterating the logo on his T-shirt like a red bib. I tried not to remember our talk that very morning, his quick grin when I teased him about fighting zombies on my Xbox. I tried not to remember he’d probably still had a belly full of Cap’n Crunch when he’d eaten Lainie. When I swung my axe in a big arc, it was a zombie’s head that went flying and rolled into a bed of chrysanthemums, not some freckle-faced kid’s.

  I stared at the body until it stopped twitching then yelled down the street at the others. Daylon and Aaron ran toward me, stopping when they saw the corpse.

  “I’ll bury the body.” Daylon’s primary goal seemed to be covering up his mistake. Our mistake. I’d known about the sick boy and hadn’t done what I should have to prevent contagion. Sure, we’d all believed he was healed and not a threat, but it didn’t change the fact we’d collectively endangered the community.

  “We’ve got to make sure no one else has been attacked,” I replied.

  “We’ve already been to every occupied house on this street.” Aaron gestured at the neighborhood. “We told them to lock up and stay indoors until we gave the all clear.”

  “Maybe we could convince them this has been some kind of drill,” Daylon suggested.

  “Why are you so worried about reporting this? Are you afraid people will run you out of town with pitchforks? You planned to leave tomorrow anyway.”

  “Yeah, but tomorrow’s soon enough. I don’t want to get thrown out with night coming on.”

  Ashleigh and Carl came jogging up the sidewalk to join us. Strands of Ashleigh’s hair had escap
ed her ponytail and whipped around her face in the breeze. She pushed it back with red-stained fingers. Staring at Jeff’s head, she moaned softly, “Oh, God. Enough.”

  “All right then. You bury the body,” I said to Daylon. “The rest of us will make sure the area’s secure and no one else had contact with him. We’ll meet back at the Henderson house. That’s the one to the south of mine.”

  Before Ashleigh walked away, I caught her arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Not really. But I’m not injured if that’s what you mean. Just fucked up. Let’s get this done. We’ll talk later.”

  Over the next hour I canvassed the houses on the streets close to Sycamore. I didn’t mention the zombie attack and suggested my visit was some kind of safety survey. I made each stop short no matter how much some people wanted to chat. After I was reassured that no one else had seen Jeff, I returned to the Hendersons’. The sun was close to setting. It had been another long, bloody day. I was exhausted and starving since I still hadn’t eaten.

  The others had already gathered and were slumped on couches and chairs in the living room. Daylon, Ashleigh, Carl, Aaron and Steve—and those not present, Jake, Maureen and Richard—were all that was left of the group of sixteen that had ridden into town only a couple of days before.

  Steve offered me whiskey. I drank from Mr. Henderson’s cut glass tumbler and wondered if the old man used to do the same. As a kid, I’d been afraid of ‘that mean old man next door’. Had he been a sad, lonely, secret drinker making it through his days in a haze of alcohol while obsessively pruning his bushes?

  “The bodies are buried and I cleaned up your kitchen for the most part,” Daylon told me.

  “Thank you.” I didn’t really want to go back to my house at all, but I had to get some clothes and see how bad the aftermath of the carnage was. I was sure Ashleigh wouldn’t want to set foot inside my house again after what had happened there. “Can I get your things for you?” I asked her.

  “Yes, please. I’d appreciate that.” She sat on an ottoman, arms resting on her legs and hands hanging slack between them. She looked as tired as I felt. “I keep going over it in my mind, trying to make sense of it. Jeff seemed fine this morning.”

  I set down my half-finished drink on a side table. “I guess once the blood’s infected all it takes to trigger the mutation is death, whatever the cause.”

  “We’ve got to get vaccinated. It’d be a goddamn shame to make it through everything we have and end up like that.” Carl slung back a shot.

  “We have to tell the council tomorrow. People need to be aware a person might seem well and still turn after they die.” It was hard to state the obvious without coming across like an officious prig.

  “I’ll tell Myers everything and then we’ll leave.” Daylon looked at me. “Like I said, you’re welcome to come with us if you want.”

  Ashleigh’s head lifted and I felt her gaze on me.

  “We could use the numbers, man. It’s safer traveling in a larger group,” Steve added. “A few more could join us if they wanted to. What about your pal, Fes?”

  “You can ask him, but I don’t think he’ll go. He’s pretty committed to the town.”

  But was I? The lure of the road seemed exciting, dangerous but full of promise while Durbinville was stagnant but safe. The pendulum swung back and forth, weighted by the fact Ashleigh would be on the road, counterbalanced by the fact I was needed here in Durbinville.

  “I’m staying at the Baileys’s house tonight,” I said, ready for some time alone to think.

  Ashleigh jumped up. “I’ll come with you.”

  Time alone was overrated. I felt a thrill of happiness that she wanted to be with me. The other men glanced at each other but didn’t comment.

  As we walked toward my house, Ashleigh moved slower and slower. I nodded toward the house next door. “Go on ahead. I’ll meet you there.”

  She looked at the Baileys’ dark, empty house. “I’ll wait on the sidewalk for you.”

  The moment I entered the house the stench of blood and bowels hit me. The odor of death tended to linger no matter how much you scrubbed. I’d learned that after working to bring my parents’ bedroom back to a habitable state. I don’t know why I didn’t pick up and move then. There were enough empty places in town. But somehow I couldn’t abandon my family home. Now I felt I could walk away from this house without a backward glance.

  I went through the downstairs making sure the appliances were off. I only glanced at the stains on the kitchen floor as I gathered the rest of the food from the mini fridge before unplugging it. Upstairs, I crammed all of Ashleigh’s possessions into her pack and a few of my things in a gym bag. Everything else we needed for the night should be available at next door.

  Outside, Ashleigh stood facing the door, waiting for me, arms folded and shoulders hunched against the wind. Together we walked to the neighboring house. The Baileys had been good friends of my mom and dad’s. They’d had mutual friends, went out together, played cards, barbecued in one or the other backyard on summer afternoons. The couple had been like an aunt and uncle to me. Their kids were all older, when I was still in elementary school. Mr. Bailey had shared his love of astronomy with me and used to let me view the sky through his telescope. They’d been among the dead following the first attack. I’d helped the burial crew dig the pit where all the remains townspeople were placed.

  Now, as I opened the door and turned on the foyer light, I remembered Mrs. Bailey rummaging through her purse for money to pay me for some school fundraiser item I’d delivered. A felt a pang of sorrow at the loss of her and of a world where there’d been school fundraisers.

  “Emily and Bob Bailey used to live here,” I told Ashleigh, feeling the need to give them some sort of requiem. “They were really nice folks.”

  She nodded and offered an obituary of her own. “Lainie was the sweetest lady I ever met, caring and thoughtful. A motherly type. She really took care of Jeff in the short time he was with us. I’ll miss her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She wasn’t quite dead when I found her, you know. I had to finish it.” Ashleigh looked at me, pale eyes glistening. “It’s different when it’s somebody you know. Harder.”

  “Yeah.”

  She paused then added, “You had to kill someone you loved, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “My mom.”

  “I thought so. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s not my business.”

  “No. It’s all right.” That night wasn’t something I wanted to talk about but maybe sharing my pain would lessen Ashleigh’s. “Like I said, my dad was already dying when I went into the bedroom. She’d finished him off. I ran outside but attacks were happening everywhere and I knew running away wasn’t going to help. I had to go back inside and stop her before she killed more people. I went to the shed, got my dad’s axe and went back inside.” I left it there. She didn’t need more details. “It was bad. Like you said, it’s a lot harder to kill someone you know. But there’s no point on dwelling on any of it now. Come on. Let’s get settled and make something to eat.”

  This was the house where the rest of Ashleigh’s friends had been staying. All their stuff had been left behind. We dropped our bags in the family room until I had a chance to clear a bedroom. Or two. I wasn’t sure if we were sharing tonight or not.

  We ate microwaved lasagna for our meal, sitting at the kitchen table and devouring the skimpy portions offered in the TV dinners.

  “Still hungry?” I asked afterward.

  “Starving. I have a craving for cheese curls and ho-hos. Junk food is comfort food my mom always said.”

  We scoured the cupboards and came up with fat-free microwave popcorn and an unopened box of vanilla wafers. Either Mrs. Bailey hadn’t kept fattening foods around or the others had eaten the good stuff yesterday.

  Leaning against the counter side by side, Ashleigh and I waited for the sound of popping in the microwave to stop. I bit into one of the dry
cookies and choked it down. “I could go back to my house. There might be snack crackers and better cookies than these.”

  “I don’t care that much. Don’t go.” The soft way she said don’t go made the words an invitation which hung in the air as tantalizing as the smell of popcorn filling the kitchen.

  My body tensed and desire gathered inside me in thick, heavy layers. This might be our last night together, our last chance to get close. I could feel Ashleigh fading out of my life even as I reached for her. I stopped worrying about whether getting physical was the right thing to do and pulled her into my arms. She curled her hands over my shoulders and leaned into me, her body snug against mine. I focused on her wide, clear eyes then her luscious mouth and bent to kiss her, a polite press of the lips at first that quickly grew deeper. I closed my eyes and sank into the kiss. She tasted of vanilla cookies and lasagna. Her tongue swirled sinuously around mine and I thought about pole dancing.