by Lora Powell
"Bri."
I ignored the warning tone in his voice as I ducked around Shawn and crouched down. Keeping my posture loose, I held a hand out and froze, offering to let the dog come to me at his own pace. "Hi, Boy. It's ok. You can come out now." I kept my voice even as I coaxed the dog to me. He cocked his head slightly to the side at my voice, but remained where he had stopped. After a few seconds, I looked back to the group that was hovering just behind me. "It's ok, you guys can finish checking the house. The dog and I are going to make friends."
"Are you sure," Maya sounded skeptical.
"Yes. This many people all staring at him will just make it worse."
"Alright." They didn't look all that sure that they should be leaving, but the group slowly started to disappear from my view.
All except for Shawn. "I'm not leaving you alone with that dog. What if it decides to attack you?"
"He's not going to attack me." I was confident in my words. I had grown up with dogs, volunteered at a vet clinic as a teen. The only reason I hadn't owned a dog when all of this started, was we weren't allowed pets in the rental. This dog was scared and weak, and he was defensive. But he gave no indication that he was going to get aggressive. He just needed time to adjust to having strangers in his house.
"Well, I'm still not leaving."
"That's ok. But you need to stop being so tense."
He laughed shortly. "How exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"Sit down. Lean back against the wall and try to relax. And stop staring at him. It's best if you don't look at him at all for now. This might take a while."
Looking skeptical, Shawn followed my instructions, sliding down the wall a few feet away from where I crouched. Satisfied, I turned my attention back to the dog.
I talked softly to the dog, not much of it really making a lot of sense, but the content wasn't what really mattered anyway. Before long, the dog had taken the few steps needed to be able to stretch out his neck and sniff my offered hand. His tail banged against the dryer weakly a few times before he moved closer and sank down into an exhausted heap next to me. We stayed like that for a while, me rambling on to the dog, before he finally relaxed and let his head rest on my knee. "Good boy," I crooned to the dog as I let my fingers lightly stroke the fur just behind one ear. "That's a good boy."
"Ok, he's ok now. Just don't make any sudden moves." Climbing to my feet, I waited for the dog to get up too, and started back toward the dark doorway.
"What are you doing?" Shawn cautiously got up from the floor too.
"I still need to check inside there." There was basically no chance that there was a zombie lurking in the darkness, but I was still going to check.
The dog followed behind me as I went back to the doorway. This time, my eyes were fully adjusted to the lack of light, and I could see inside. It was a bathroom. A sink was to the left, a tub to the right. I wrinkled my nose as I stepped inside. The dog had been doing his business in the tub, that accounted for the smell. I noticed that the toilet past the sink was bone dry. That little bit of water had obviously been the dog's saving grace. Without it, he would have never survived so long shut in this room. A rumpled bath mat and a stuffed monkey dog toy were on the floor by the tub. A large metal bowl was overturned in one corner. Picking up the bowl, I left the bathroom. The air in there was horrible and my eyes were already burning.
"Let's get you something to drink." We didn't have much water left, but I was hoping that the others would have found something to remedy that situation by now. The dog sticking close to my side, and Shawn following, I went back through the living room and turned in the direction that I guessed I would find the kitchen. Low voices sounded, letting me know that I was on the right track. Everyone else would probably be searching the kitchen for something to eat.
The conversation died out as I walked into the room with the dog at my heels. "Ignore him, everyone. Act like he isn't here at all." As wary as the dog was, it would be best if everyone left him alone for a while.
They started talking again, and I listened as I looked around the room for something to take care of the dog with. One cabinet door that was hanging open had rows of canned dog food lined up inside, and I pulled one can out and set it on the counter. What he needed most, at this point, was water. After I sorted out the water situation, I'd look for a can opener.
I didn't find what I was looking for in the kitchen, but a glance out the backdoor solved my problem. I could see another dog bowl out there, this one full to overflowing with rainwater. Nothing seemed to be moving in the tiny back yard, so I opened the door. Shooting outside, the dog greedily lapped at the bowl until it was more than half empty. With a final slurp, he raised his head and looked around himself. For a second, I was afraid that he would take off, but he sniffed the air once before turning around and coming back to where I had been waiting in the doorway.
"Good boy," I patted his head and reached for the tags that dangled from his chain. "Rex. Good boy, Rex." His tail wagged when he heard his name and he looked up at me with a bit of life returning to his eyes. "Let's go find a can opener."
* * *
Running my fingers through his hair, I snuggled closer to Rex and tried to turn my mind off. We had decided to stay in the house for the night, and I was currently tucked under the covers in one of the bedrooms, the dog happily curled up by my side.
The day had passed more pleasantly than was usual in our new reality. We had eaten until we were all stuffed, pilfered clothes from the closets to replace our own filthy ones, except for Bill. There hadn't been anything in any of the closets that even came close to fitting his frame. And entertained ourselves with books that we found around the house. Rex had eaten his can of food, collapsed and taken a long nap, and woken up ready to be the life of the party. He had warmed up to the entire group quickly, and them to him, and everyone had been more than happy to comply with his pestering attempts to get them to pet him.
It was my turn to get a full night of sleep, and I was more than tired, but I still couldn't seem to relax enough to fall asleep. Too many questions were racing around in my brain. Who had killed all of the zombies outside? And where were they now? We had made sure to keep someone on watch all day, but had yet to see a single live zombie here. What had happened to Rex's owners? I couldn't help but think about them. We were eating their food, wearing their clothes, and sleeping in their beds. I wondered if they were out there, somewhere, trying to get back to their home. And I wondered what was going to happen to us.
The last couple of days had been harsh. A day inside, with dry clothes and plenty to eat, had done a lot to revive everyone. But we all knew that it was only temporary. Eventually, we would be forced to move on. It was a harsh lesson that we were learning the hard way.
THIRTY-THREE-DAY 18
"You should probably stay off of this leg for another day." I finished taping the clean piece of gauze over the wound on Devon's leg and gave the teen a serious look. "It hasn't healed at all from the first time I saw it. If you aren't careful, it's going to get infected."
"Ok. Thanks Bri." He pulled the leg of his jeans back down but to my satisfaction, didn't move to get off of the couch. Fallon had been hovering nearby, and she dropped onto the other end of the couch to keep him company. Tossing the rest of our makeshift first aid kit back into Maya's bag, I stood up to return it to the spot by the front door where we had piled all of the things we would want to take with us if we needed to make a run for it again.
Days spent wading through the damp and filth in the woods hadn't been good for the teen's leg. I hadn't been completely honest when I told him that his leg wasn't healing. It was worse than that. The skin around the wound had taken on a slightly puffy, red color. I was more than a little worried.
"His leg is worse," I dropped into a kitchen chair between Shawn and Carrie.
"I was afraid of that," Carrie looked through the doorway with concern. "Poor kid's really starting to limp."
"What can w
e do for him?" Shawn turned to me. I don't know how, but I had somehow become the group's unofficial doctor. They all seemed to rely on my advice way more than I was comfortable with.
I sighed. "He needs to rest. If we can keep the wound clean, maybe his body will fight off the infection. Some antibiotics wouldn't hurt."
"I didn't see anything like that when I was raiding the nurse's closet back at the camp." Maya walked into the room and joined our quiet conversation.
"There wasn't any. I doubt a summer camp nurse would have been allowed to give anything stronger than Aspirin and Tums." I hesitated. "There has to be something we could use in some of these houses." I turned toward Carrie. As far as I knew, she was the one who had searched the upstairs bathroom.
She shook her head. "Nothing like that here. Just band aids and Neosporin."
"Should we try another house?"
I looked back to Shawn, "Maybe."
"I don't know. There's something about this place that makes me uneasy." Maya glanced over to where we could see Bill watching out a window. "I'd really rather just get out of here. There's a car in the garage that we could all fit in. I say we take it and go."
"We need to stay. Devon needs the rest." I looked around. "We all do."
Even in clean clothes, our group looked like we weren't doing so well. Everyone was losing weight at an alarming rate, cheeks were beginning to sink in to an unhealthy degree. None of us had bathed or combed our hair. Dark circles had taken up permanent residence under all of our eyes. What we really needed was to stay, eat as much as we could, and sleep a lot. Maybe then we would start to look human again.
"I'll go look for some meds for him."
Somehow, it didn't surprise me at all that Shawn was the one to offer help. He was good like that. "I'm going with you." I wouldn't let him out there alone.
"I'll come too."
I glanced over at Carrie with surprise. She looked back at me with some expression that was hard to decipher in her eyes.
"I'm not going to just sit back and let the kid suffer if there's something that I could do." She pushed her chair back from the table and left the room.
An uneasy quiet fell over the table as everyone looked at each other. It seemed like Maya had something that she wanted to say. When I focused on her, she sighed. "Carrie's grandson was about the same age as Devon. They lived in New York City. She lost contact with them at the beginning, but the last she heard they were taking her grandson to the ER with a high fever." She looked over to her husband again. "I'll go tell Bill what's going on. We'll stay here and keep an eye on Devon and Fallon."
A few minutes later, Shawn, Carrie, and I shut the back door behind us with a quiet click. Rex jumped up and pressed his nose to the glass on the other side of the door, watching us leave. I had no idea what we were going to run into out here. It was safer to leave the dog behind.
The rain had finally stopped and a pretty blue sky stretched out overhead. With the return of the sun, the humidity was already climbing, and the smell from the decaying zombies that were scattered around the small town hung heavy in the stagnant air. Our game plan was simple. We would start searching houses and hopefully find what we were looking for without running into too much trouble. There just had to be someone who had lived in this place who had a bottle of antibiotics stashed in their home.
The yard between our hideaway and the next house over had already started to grow out of control. The tall grass was still wet, and my sneakers and lower pants legs were soaked again by the time we crossed the short distance. I grimaced down at them as I stepped onto the front porch. The three of us paused to look around before knocking on the door. In either direction, the street was silent and empty. Each of them going to look in nearby windows, Shawn and Carrie indicated to me when they were ready. I tapped my knuckles lightly against the peeling paint of the door.
Almost immediately, a crash sounded from within.
"No good," Carrie backed away from her window. "There's one in there." A face streaked with crusty blood pressed up against the window where she had just been standing. The zombie inside hissed and banged it's forehead against the glass.
"Let's try the next one."
We followed Shawn to the next house over and repeated the process. This time, there was no activity stirred inside by my knock. The owners of this home hadn't left a convenient spare key hidden by their door, so Carrie used a rock from their landscaping to break the window in the door. I flinched at the sound of glass hitting the floor inside, but there were still no alarming noises telling us to run. After carefully reaching inside to unlock the door, we finally were able to step inside.
This house was much smaller than the one that we were using for our hideout. It took almost no time for us to decide that the house was empty.
The single small bathroom didn't yield the results we were hoping for, though I did scoop up a half of a bottle of prescription pain killers I found hidden behind a jar of Vaseline. I had no doubt that they would come in handy at some point. Hopefully not anytime in the near future.
Wandering back to the kitchen, I found Shawn just finishing dumping the contents of a cupboard into the duffel bag he'd brought along. We had agreed that, while searching for the medicine, we would also take any food we came across. It didn't make sense not to.
Carrie walked into the kitchen from where she had been looking through the bedrooms. "I found a pack of batteries that are the right size for our flashlights. There's nothing else back there."
"I took all of the nonperishable's. There wasn't much." He zipped up the duffel. They both looked my way.
I held up the bottle I'd taken. "They aren't antibiotics, but these could come in handy."
"Good. Let's keep moving."
The next house had it's front door standing wide open, and we approached with caution. After looking in windows and banging on the doorframe, Carrie decided it was safe to go in. In the upstairs bathroom, we finally found what we had been looking for. I held the bottle up triumphantly and two answering grins bloomed in the dirty faces looking back at me.
Slinging the backpack onto my back, I felt lighter than I'd been in a very long time as we descended the stairs and headed back toward the front door. Behind me, the other two were talking animatedly about the things that we had picked up while searching the houses. At the front door, I glanced through the window to check for zombies. It was all clear, so I swung the door open and stepped outside.
The tall hedges that ran between this house and the next rustled. I had just enough time to turn to the left, before a zombie launched itself from their green depths and crashed into me with all of it's weight.
I shrieked as I went down hard with the zombie snarling on top of me. It's strength was alarming as it gripped onto my shoulders and pulled it's gaping mouth closer to me.
Time slowed down. I registered Shawn and Carrie yelling from somewhere out of my field of view. Using both hands to try to hold the creature back, I knew already that that was a battle I was going to lose. The zombies rancid breath blew across my face as it's teeth gnashed and drool splattered across my chin.
With a final pull, the zombie managed to yank my upper body close enough to bite. Pain exploded in my shoulder.
THIRTY-FOUR-DAY 18
Wide eyed with horror, I looked down to where the zombie had sunk it's teeth into my shoulder. Shaking it's head like a dog trying to kill something within it's jaws, the zombie reared back.
The strap of the backpack pulled forward, pinched tightly in it's teeth.
Chomping down hard on the padded nylon, the creature focused red eyes on my face, and growled. Hyperventilating, I shoved it back with all of the strength I could muster.
A hand clutching my dropped knife appeared from behind me and stabbed the zombie through an eye.
It instantly went limp. Kicking out from under it's dead weight frantically, I lurched to my feet. A set of hands spun me around and I was met with worried grey eyes. Muttering his most co
lorful expletives yet, Shawn pulled at the neck of my shirt to reveal the bite.
Dazed, I looked down.
An angry looking bruise was already growing where the zombie's teeth had given me a nasty pinch, but there was no blood. Incredulous, Shawn grabbed the backpack strap and looked at the rips bitten into the tough fabric.
"I can't believe it."
"Is she bit?" Carrie appeared next to Shawn and looked at what we were both staring at. She started to laugh. "You have got to be the only person alive to be saved from a zombie by a backpack."
I must have been going into shock, because I failed to see the humor in the situation. At least I still had enough sense to realize that my mouth was hanging open, and close it.
I wasn't the only one to fail to think it was funny. "We should get back to the others." He glared at Carrie over his shoulder as he turned me to go back.
The walk back took less than a minute, and I felt like I was trying to move under water. Everything seemed sluggish and a bit fuzzy around the edges. Maya had been watching for us and she knew that something wasn't right as soon as she opened the door. Her voice sounded like it was far away.
"What happened?"
"Bri had a really close call," Shawn pulled out a kitchen chair and sat me down in it.
"Is she ok?"
That was genuine worry I heard in her voice. The note brought a bit of reality back to me.
I had nearly been bitten by a zombie. The strap of my backpack was the only reason I was not now just waiting to become one of them. That was way to close.
"She's fine, just bruised." Carrie huffed as she shouldered her way through the door carrying two overloaded bags. Hers, and the duffel that I just now realized Shawn must have abandoned three houses over.