by mike Evans
Al pointed at Ellie. “You realize they’re tracking her, right?”
Ellie flipped her daypack around, pulling magazines for the pistol and rifle out. Dean saw her, seemingly for the first time. “What the hell is this?”
“The reason they are coming. They’re following her blood the entire way here. She was just moving faster than they could keep up, or some shit, I don’t know,” Al whispered, his voice full of hate and resentment. He wiped at his brow where a line of cold, nervous sweat was beginning to accrue.
Ellie pulled back the charging handle on her rifle. “You realize you’re wasting time, right? We need to get ready. You want to get ahead of them; you don’t want them coming into the camp. They might not be going full speed just tracking speed, but once they smell all the people and have a visual to go on, they’ll look like they’ve lost their minds. They’ll start ripping off limbs at that point, and be happy as hell to do it. You know they can eat your entire camp here.”
Allen pointed to the semis. “We can hide in the trucks dad. If there’s more of them than we can handle, we can hide.”
Ellie didn’t have an investment in these people, but wasn’t stupid. She was aware the only reason for the dead coming here in the first place was completely her own fault. She was better armed than most of these people added up. “They’ll rip into those trucks. I apologize in advance, but gunfire is what’s going to get rid of them.”
“Sound only brings them,” Frank said.
“Right, well, if there’s anything over ten or twelve of them, then you aren’t going to be able to pull back bows or crossbows fast enough. You’ll miss for every time that you hit, too, I bet. They are too fast. One alone, I totally agree to keep it quiet. I wish that we could do that better. Other than a few silenced, high-powered long guns, we don’t have that opportunity.”
The men on guard were running out of the woods back to the camp. “They’re coming! They’ll be here any minute!”
Dean looked to the two of them and the semi. “What the fuck are we going to do, Al? We’ve never had this many here before. Like she said, one or two, great. This isn’t the case though. Not by a long shot!”
Al reached out, grabbing the man by the shoulder. “How many are there, Dean?”
“I don’t know—when you can’t see the end of them, you don’t stick around. Jose was in a tree stand near the river. Those sons of bitches smelled him up there and in two leaps, climbed up the tree and into his stand, knocking him off of it. He was dangling ten feet off the ground by his safety harness, and they started jumping up, grabbing and ripping pieces off him one by one until there was nothing left. We got out of there just in time. So, what do we do?” Dean said.
Ellie yelled, “You don’t have any choices and you’re wasting time you don’t have here, guys. You can run, but they’ll catch up, you can’t out run them. Those semis are a joke. They’re from freaking Wal-Mart; they’ll rip those things apart. Everything there sucks.”
“Why are we standing here talking, Frank? Come on, we can at least try to get away from these things. No one’s in a wheelchair here; if they can’t keep up, it's going to be Darwin screaming from the hills,” Al said.
Frank looked at his son, and all the teens and adults scattered around the camp, waiting for directions. They all knew what these things could do, and none of them wanted to be there for it. The guards ran past Ellie as she holstered her pistol and took her rifle in both hands, ignoring the pain from her wrist.
She unclicked the scope, sliding it off without doubt, knowing her iron sights would be better and save time they couldn’t afford to waste. The shots had to count and had to be quick. She thought of everyone at the base and would trade the least trained teenager they had for anyone here. She couldn’t fathom that at the moment, the group thought their best idea was to hide in a giant tin can or outrun the fastest things ever to be on two feet.
Frank watched Ellie as she walked, rifle up, into the woods by herself, not looking over her shoulder. “Ellie, you don’t have to go in there.”
“Yes, I do. This is my fault; it's all my fault. If I hadn’t come down the river, they would've never come here. Come with and help, hide, or you can try to run. But I’m going to give you the chance you need to attempt to get your kid out of here!”
Al and Frank didn’t need to say anything. Al pulled a second pistol holster from his back and handed it to Frank. “You think you’ll be able to hit anything with that?”
Frank shrugged. “Always done better with rifles, but I’ll do what I can. Allen, I want you to go with Tony; you two get as far away as possible. You run that way and stay with the others.”
“You want me to grab any supplies first, dad?”
“I want you to mind and get going, now! Go, just run, and don’t be alone! I’ll come find you. You run until your hands shake and then run some more, maybe that will be enough.”
Allen nodded, looking to Tony, and the two sprinted off. Allen needed no directions; his dad had ingrained it in his brain that if there were dead and you were unarmed, you run first, hide second, and fight last. They’d watched the dead come through before, sniffing out someone who looked like they’d been safe, only to have that be blatantly disproven.
The dads watched their only sons run into the distance. Dean and Phil were staring at their bows, feeling like they should run. “We have our bows and maybe ten arrows, Frank… You want us to stick around and be last line of defense for those things? I’m sure we’re fucked, but it’d buy them some time, I hope. My kids are running right alongside yours,” Dean said.
Al pointed to the top of the semis and said, “You get up there, and stay down. Maybe we won’t get to that point when they get here. How far away were they?”
“Probably a quarter mile. They’ll be here soon; they were on the move.”
“Get up there. Go… now. Just do your best. Hopefully it won’t come to that though,” Al said.
Frank and Al did not wait for them to get up top of the semis. They started jogging to catch up to Ellie, who by now could barely be seen through the trees. Ellie was running as she looked for a spot that would be a good vantage point, but there was nothing. It was flat forest ground mixed with a shit ton of fallen trees that were going to be nothing but bullet proof armor for the dead.
She found a downed log and set her rifle down. She stripped off her day bag, pulling a few different magazines from it, and rested it on the tree so they’d be ready to go.
She prayed that she would get through this somehow. Kya’s words kept ringing through her head; the idea of a safe spot that they could live unbothered would be great. She realized, though, that was what these people were doing, and there would be little they could do to ever truly guarantee that they would be safe besides taking care of every last one of the dead.
Ellie sighted one of the dead making its way towards her, nose up in the air and sniffing, knowing without seeing that there was something good amidst the trees. None of the others ran past it; they watched and began doing the same actions as it. Ellie ran her thumb over the safety, making sure it was switched off, and rested the rifle on the trunk, getting the surest shot she could line up, knowing she’d need to have as many ready to be fired off without moving as she could.
She could hear Frank and Al running through the woods. They would have stepped on her, had she not yelled at them at the last second to get down. She looked at their pistols, shaking her head. Her confidence was at an all-time low. “You might as well have brought the bows.”
Al went to say something but Ellie cut him off. “I meant that by the time they are close enough to hit anything with those, there’s going to be a dozen of them jumping for you at once. Just stay down please, or go back with the others.”
“We aren’t leaving a girl out here by herself. What do you think we are, cowards?” Frank whispered, pissed off.
“I wouldn’t judge you at all for being intelligent. You don’t let anything get within twenty
feet of us, then, and I’ll take care of everything that is far out there.”
The two nodded, resting their pistols atop of the downed tree and trying their best to find some sort of way to get comfortable. Al was mumbling under his breath that she wasn’t crazy, but that all of them must be, and that this was the worst idea they’d ever had.
Ellie ignored them, spreading her legs out in a shooter’s position until she felt like she was one with the ground. She lay her cheek on the butt of the gun and went to squeeze the trigger, but The Turned who had had its head up in the air disappeared in a millisecond. She lifted up, looking to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind. The dead hung limp. The only thing that explained what it was, was the arrow protruding from its skull. A blackened sludge was dripping from its neck and down onto its bare shoulder. The other Turned ran up to it, pushing at it with their fingers. When it didn’t respond, they began screaming aloud, an echoing, horrific symphony of pain and death reverberating through the woods.
Ellie figured it would be some time before she would forget that noise. She knew if she lived through the day that those sounds would haunt her in her dreams. They ripped the arrow out of its head holding up the dead and looking around. Another arrow appeared from what seemed out of thin air, followed by a third. The dead looked like they were as nervous about self-preservation as they were pissed.
Frank and Al looked around, seeing that Yassa was in a tree stand, already nocking and pulling back another arrow. He had a sheath full of them, bright colors so thick, they looked like they were one.
“Who the hell is that?” Ellie said.
“That’s Yassa,” Frank said. “Looks like we are going to have some help. He does his own thing, but gets shit done. He’s kind of a pain in the ass, but everyone has something about them.”
Ellie watched as another arrow came down, and when one of The Turned heard the direction it’d come from, it took off in a mad dash towards Yassa’s tree not more than fifty yards away.
“Shit, they see him, he’s screwed!” Al yelled.
Ellie didn’t respond with words. The massive recoil from her shot echoed across the woods, stopping half of the dead in their tracks. They spun around before even seeing or knowing what it was they were running towards. She started picking them off one after another. Their heads looked like someone was sticking an invisible knife in their skull and ripping it back with every possible ounce of force.
Al and Frank began to feel hope, something they’d thought that they’d both long since forgotten the feeling of. Ellie picked off the last of a set of ten, taking a second to breathe, and in that second, dropped the magazine out, putting in a fresh one. She’d been taught well by Clary, and those lessons had not been forgotten.
She looked around the tree, trying to get a glimpse of Yassa. He was outnumbered and had a very small chance. She thought of seeing another day, but no one had told Yassa that. He was pulling back the bow as quickly as he could, and before the string had a chance to quit vibrating, he was already nocking another arrow. The last of three leapt into the air, making for an impossible shot with his bow.
The Turned leapt, gripping the trunk with its arms and then legs, repeating the action, looking like it was practically levitating up the tree. Yassa hooked his bow on a peg on the tree. The Turned snarled as it rushed up towards him. Yassa had seconds to think and reached towards his hip, finding a hatchet and bringing it down with such force that he missed its head completely.
Yassa screamed when he saw that he’d missed the skull shot. When The Turned tried to leap up the last remaining distance to the top of the stand, it looked down, seeing it had the blade of the hatchet stuck through its hand. When it tried to pull it free, it ripped its hand in half. It clenched to the top of the tree stand just before it fell, but Yassa was already holding his hunting knife. The monster effortlessly did a one-arm pull up, but Yassa was already bringing the knife down, forcing the blade through its skull. The darkness in its eyes went black and it fell backwards, looking like a demon descending to hell. The two dead trying to climb up beneath it got knocked off mid leap, and the three fell to the ground. The two hit hard, though of course, they did not feel the impact. Pain was beyond them.
In unison, the two left lifted off their fallen brethren and tossed it to the side. Yassa shook off the black residue that was dripping from his blade before wiping it on his pants, and put the knife away. The two dead both bent to leap back to the tree. Before they could get their feet off the ground, Ellie fired off two rounds, snapping their heads back and watching them fall in a pile on the forest floor.
Yassa, who had been in a world of his own, realized for the first time that there was someone else in the woods. He saw Al and Frank standing with Ellie and sat down hard on the bow stand’s bench. He patted his chest, finding a crumpled pack of smokes, and pulled out one of his emergency cigarettes. He lit it and gave the trio on the ground a thumbs up.
Yassa sat there for a minute, taking deep inhales before letting the bow down by a line, then went down the ladder that was attached. Ellie looked around the woods, keeping an eye out for any stragglers that were behind.
She walked slowly towards Yassa, and when she got there, she asked, “Hey, are you all right? They didn’t scratch you or anything, did they?”
“Nah, I’m all right. We haven’t had a group like that come through in... ever, I guess. Al, Frank, what the hell is going on here today? Who's the kid, and when did you start using machine guns?” Yassa asked.
“I don’t need people explaining me to others when I’m standing right here and can do it myself. I’m Ellie. They didn’t want me using the gun, but it was that or die running. They followed my scent down the river. I got far enough ahead of them that I bought some time, but they came through the woods. I’m really sorry about your friends, uh... sir.”
“Shit, even my daddy wasn’t a sir, I sure as hell ain’t one. You can call me Yassa, or nothing, I don’t really care. I’d love to get my hands on one of those. You mind if I take a look at it?”
Ellie looked to Frank, who shrugged, indicating that he wouldn’t be too big of a risk. She hit the release and the charging handle. “Here you go.”
Yassa took it, laughing. “I ain’t gonna shoot myself with it, sweetheart. You didn’t have to take the bullets outta it. Christ, this isn't the first time that I’ve handled a rifle. Never one this nice, but nonetheless. Damn. You know where I might be able to get any more of these at?”
Ellie shrugged, not wanting to tell too much until she knew a little more about these people. She motioned for him to give the rifle back.
Yassa said, “I just want to take a look at this. You got a clip on you I could use? I’d love to see what this thing can do.”
“I don’t have any clips. I do have a bunch of magazines, but after how many shots I took, there’s a good chance these things are going to have friends on the way,” Ellie said.
“I’m not scared of the dead,” Yassa said as he puffed up his chest.
“So, you’re not very smart is what you are saying?” Ellie said in typical Ellie fashion.
“She grows on you, huh, Yassa? Just a cuddly little puppy, ain’t she?” Al said with more than a little sarcasm in his voice.
Branches snapped in the distance and Ellie yelled with no question in her voice. “Give me that back, Yassa. I’m sure you are perfectly good with a gun, but I'm not relying solely on my pistol. Give back my rifle, now!”
He motioned for a magazine and Ellie crossed her arms, refusing any such thing. He stepped forward, not about to back down to a stranger. If it had been a teenage boy, he would have already knocked him on his ass. Yassa slung the rifle, reaching out for her, having absolutely no idea what was coming his way. When the snaps of twigs and branches quit, he stopped reaching.
The four of them looked around cautiously. Ellie pulled her pistol, stepping to the side where she could see. Relief like she had felt only a few times raced throughout her body.
/> Yassa saw two large men approaching, both heavily armed and with no knowledge of what was going on before them. He shouldered the rifle, ready to gamble with the fact that they didn’t know if this badass gun was loaded or not.
“I wouldn’t do that, Yassa. Those guys aren’t really the screwing around with type. What I mean is, they’ll kill you dead where you stand before allowing you to make your first threat,” Ellie warned.
Yassa marched towards the two of them, not getting much ahead of Ellie and the others.
Clary saw Ellie holding her handgun and examined her once up and down. Other than the ace bandage, he was relieved that she didn’t look too bruised up. He noticed the stranger holding her rifle and her looking nervous. Clary yelled, “Ellie, are you all right? Goddamn it, I’m happy to see you.”
Yassa yelled, “Hey, your daughter is fine, we didn’t do nothing to her.”
“Shut up, Yassa, Christ, you make us sound like bunch of fucking weirdos,” Al said.