The Infected Dead (Book 1): Alive for Now

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The Infected Dead (Book 1): Alive for Now Page 19

by Bob Howard


  Tidal plains expanded outward on both sides of the road, and in each direction the big mud flats would prove fatal to a hoard of any size. The snipers could shoot down the center of the road, and with any luck the log jam of bodies would cause the infected to be forced to go around and out into the mud flats. If the area didn’t have a drought, the infected would be getting stuck in the mud like they had walked onto a big sheet of fly paper.

  If there was a heavy rain followed by flooding, the infected would probably be washed downriver and out to sea. Those that weren’t washed away would be alligator and crab bait.

  Hampton and Ward piled out of the Suburban, and we all wished them luck. For a group that didn’t have a shelter, it looked like they had at least a small chance of survival, but what the hoards of infected couldn’t do to them was probably something easily accomplished by the few infected who were already behind their lines.

  Chief Barnes leaned out of his window and said in a low voice to Hampton, “Take my advice and start a house to house search now while you can. You have enough firepower, and you know the biggest threat is that relatives don’t want to let go. You also need to know what resources you have within the area you control.”

  Hampton understood why the Chief didn’t want the others to hear him. If they did, they could easily take matters into their own hands. They couldn’t stop anything if Hampton lost control.

  “I’ll think about it, Chief. It’s probably already too late, but you know that airport you saw back there? There are a couple of dozen small planes ready to leave on a moment’s notice. At least some people will make it out. We need to figure out where it will be safe to go, but we’ve been sending out some flights to see if there are any other clear areas. We’ll just have to wait this out the best we can.”

  Hampton gave the Chief a last handshake and backed away from the Suburban. The Chief put the car in drive, and we headed for the tree line. Once again we had plenty of room to spread out inside the big vehicle, but Jean and I were sharing the space behind the driver seat. Kathy kept giving us approving looks, and there was a strong feeling of camaraderie and family amongst the four of us.

  It didn’t take us long to figure out that we were a lot closer to our turn off than we had realized. Only about three miles further up Highway 17, I saw a sign that said we were one mile from Simmonsville. The road was clear, thanks to Hampton’s people, so we were moving fast and almost missed our turn. I saw the little roadside stand where the old lady had been selling her sweetgrass baskets, and Chief Barnes made the turn.

  The Suburban had no trouble handling the dirt and gravel road at a pretty high speed, and it really felt like I was going home. The sunlight was blocked out by the trees, and within a few minutes I could see the jeep I had left parked at the end of the road.

  The Chef brought the Suburban to a sliding stop, and no one needed to be told to get out. All four doors flew open at the same time, and we piled out dragging our gear behind us. We were almost there, and we could almost smell the salt air from the ocean……but there was another smell.

  We gathered on the driver side of the Suburban and got down into a tight circle. Kathy asked in a whisper, “Anyone else recognize that smell?”

  “I guess we all know what it is,” I said, “but where it’s coming from is the real question.”

  “Being at sea a long time has its advantages,” said the Chief. “You learn to tell the direction of the wind from the slightest breeze. My best guess would be that the infected from Pawley’s Island have been washing ashore and crossing through these marshes, and at the same time they’ve been being forced around the log jam on Highway 17 into this area.”

  “They had to go somewhere,” said Kathy, “but are you thinking what I’m thinking? The reason it stinks so bad is because so many of them are getting stuck out here. Besides the alligators, there’s a damn lot of mud and other things to get hung up on.”

  Jean was the one with the observation that scared us all. “How do we know they haven’t already made it over this road? I mean, we could have them all around us by now.”

  “There’s not much we can do about that now,” I said. “We can go on through to the beach, or we can go back. If we go back, we have a hoard of infected dead stuck behind a big roadblock, and we have a town that will probably die from within. And even if we keep going past Georgetown, where to from there?”

  As a group we decided we should make our way through to the island as quietly as possible. We did some quick planning and agreed that we would have the whole infected population on us in a hurry if we started shooting, so we all kept our rifles on our backs and pistols holstered. Machetes had to be the weapon of choice unless we lost control of the situation.

  We stashed any extra gear we could do without in the car, and we took only a small amount of food and water. I had told the others a long time ago about the night I had spent in a tree, and I told them we should consider it an option if we run into too many infected. The problem was that we would most likely have more than one or two hanging around this time.

  Since I had been through the area several times before, I took the lead. I knew that I wouldn’t have to chop away any brush or undergrowth to get to the beach. Jean fell in behind me followed by Kathy and then the Chief. We moved quietly and fast, but the smell was almost overpowering in some places.

  I held up one hand to stop when I saw movement in the thick bushes just a few feet ahead of me. Behind me, everybody went into a crouch to await the all clear signal.

  When I got lower to the ground, I saw the feet of an infected dead only about three yards away. I couldn’t tell immediately if it was a male or female, but I could tell it was an infected dead because it was only wearing one shoe, and the bare foot was missing two of the middle toes.

  It tried to walk forward, but it appeared to be stuck on something. I motioned for the others to stay where they were, and then I circled left to get a better look from behind. I saw that it had managed to get one arm stuck between two small trees, and it didn’t have the sense to realize it was only the elbow that was keeping it in place. If it would straighten the arm and the lift it upward, it would come free, but it just kept trying to pull it out.

  I held one finger to my lips and then motioned the others to follow me in a slow arc around the infected. It didn’t seem to hear us, but we had a long way to go if we were going to be forced off course again.

  When I got us back to where we needed to be, I saw the tracks on the damp ground that told me something had pushed through the trees and undergrowth not long before us. I signaled for the others to come closer and whispered to them that we had company, and it could be several of the infected. Whatever had passed through ahead of us was big enough to leave a path.

  I whispered, “We can follow the path right to the beach if they kept moving in that direction, but the downside is they are likely to still be there. If they are, we probably have to take them out.”

  Kathy asked, “Want me to move out in front, Ed? If it comes down to fast hand to hand contact, I might be a little better prepared for it.”

  I couldn’t argue with Kathy about that. I had seen her moving on TV, and she knew what she was doing. I may be able to outrun the infected on a flat paved road, but on a sandy beach we probably would be forced to deal with them on uneven ground. They may also be spread out, and blocking our way. Since going back the way we had come was not an option, we would have to face them head on.

  The Chief moved up into second place in line with Jean behind him. I was in back to be sure nothing caught us by surprise. The idea was for us to sneak up on them, not the other way around.

  I couldn’t hear Kathy moving because she was just so good at what she does, and for a big man, the Chief was impressively quiet. Jean was so small that she could probably walk on potato chips quietly. I was looking over my shoulder so much that I was worried about running into Jean or going in the wrong direction.

  Just like the first time I
had come to Mud Island, I was surprised by how quickly we got to the beach. The trees had given the impression that it was much later in the day because the sun was in the West, but the last thing we wanted to do was to be on the mainland after dark. Whatever was between us and the island had to be removed.

  As we cleared the trees and became fully exposed on the beach, we found ourselves behind six of the infected dead. All six were in an advanced state of decay, and the smell was overwhelming. They were all facing away from us toward the water. One had walked into the water and was still moving forward.

  Kathy held out her hand and whispered for us to wait. It was obvious that she wanted us to give the infected a chance to wade out too far, and the first one didn’t disappoint us. The drop off was so steep that one moment he was only knee deep, and the next moment he was gone. That didn’t deter the remaining infected who were all walking toward the water.

  A second one made it to the water and disappeared, but that was when our luck ran out. We had followed at a safe distance, hoping beyond hope that all of them would walk out into the water, but another six came wandering out of the trees to our right. They saw us, and when they became agitated and started to groan, the others turned around to face us.

  Ten was still better than twelve, but I thought to myself it would have been nice to see more go into the water and be grabbed by either the current or sharks.

  I no sooner had the thought when Kathy and the Chief both did the unthinkable and charged straight at the first group of four. It hadn’t occurred to me, but they were all close enough to the water for Kathy and the Chief to see an easy way to dispose of them. They simply pushed them in. The first two were literally launched out into the water. Since Kathy and Chief Barnes didn’t have momentum on their side for the remaining two, it took a bit more finesse to send them swimming. That didn’t prove to be a problem because the infected dead don’t seem to have great balance.

  Kathy did some sort of trip and flip move that sent hers somersaulting into the water. The Chief grabbed his, turned it around to face the water, and then gave it a really hard shove. It went face first into the water with hardly a space.

  Jean and I had turned to face the six that had come out of the trees. I remembered what we had been taught about not trying to bury the machete in the infected or it might get stuck, but it was really hard to hold back. I got control of myself and swung low at the knee, and the infected hit the ground. I moved to the next one immediately because the first one wasn’t going anywhere.

  This one had turned toward Jean who was in the process of going for the knees the same way I had with mine.This time I had an inspiration and swung even lower and slightly from the back. The machete neatly sliced through the Achilles tendon of the infected’s right foot, and his next step caused him to fall flat on his face.

  I thought Kathy had come up on my left, and I turned to ask her if she had seen that, but instead of seeing the pretty blond hair, I had a tall infected dead opening his mouth and aiming for my face. All I could see or smell was that fetid mouth, but that was probably what saved me. I recoiled from the smell and literally fell out its way.

  The infected that had zeroed in on me fell over my legs, and Jean came out of nowhere to bring her blade down across the back of its neck. The head didn’t come completely off, but it was close. She stayed by me until I was back on my feet, but when I looked around for another target, I saw that Kathy and the Chief had mopped up the last of them.

  We all broke for the dock together, and the Chief was yanking the big yellow bag open as he ran. As soon as he was on the dock, he pulled the cord that set off the inflation device. It was amazing how quickly the raft was in the water and capable of taking on passengers. No one was shy about getting aboard and grabbing paddles.

  It wasn’t long before the current began moving us along, and we were steering more than paddling. The dock seemed to be pulling away from us, and we saw at least another dozen of the infected struggling free of the underbrush. One managed to walk out onto the dock without falling over the side, but there was no surprise when it just walked right off the end.

  Jean started looking me over with a worried look and asked, “Did anyone get bitten?”

  We all answered quickly that we hadn’t, but no one hesitated when she said, “Everyone get naked, and I mean now.” Everyone immediately stripped to their underwear, and I was a bit ashamed that seeing Jean undress was a bit nicer than it should have been under the circumstances.

  We took turns checking each other for bites, and we were all relieved to pronounce each other as being clear of injuries. Jean winked at me when she checked me over and whispered, “Save it for later, stud.”

  Even in the fading light, I was pretty sure that everyone saw how red I had turned. The tension rolled away from us as we rounded the corner at the southern tip of Mud Island, and when we all looked at each other, the Chief started to laugh. As usual, it was as infectious as the diseased dead walking around on the beach, and we all started laughing along with him. I saw him and Kathy exchange that knowing look again, and they both started to paddle us toward the shore of our island. Jean took advantage of them having their backs to us and snuggled up close.

  Behind us at the dock, there was a crowd of the infected. I glanced back only once because I couldn’t stand to see that sight again. There were too many to count. That meant we had come incredibly close to dying, but it also meant we would be having more of them wash up on the island than usual.

  I said to no one in particular, “If there are that many in really thick woods, how many are there getting around the log jam by Simmonsville?”

  The Chief turned and looked back toward the dock. He seemed to be trying to figure out how many there were, but he was thinking about something else. He said, “Too bad we can’t contact Hampton. If as many of those things are getting around the blockade to the North as there are to the South, they should drop that bridge now.”

  I said, “Think about it. Highway 17 is going to act like a funnel when they start meeting back up again further down the coast.”

  “Maybe,” said Kathy, “but with any luck a good portion of them will walk into the ocean, and the hoard on the other end will lose a few to the Waccamaw River.”

  Jean put the punctuation on the conversation when she said, “In the meantime, we’re going to get inside the shelter and stay there until they all walk into the ocean or a river.”

  ******

  The sun went down before we could get far enough around the southern tip of Mud Island, but there was enough light from the moon for us to see the beach. We didn’t need to go to the end of the jetty because the beach was wide where the jetty reached Mud Island. We were able to beach the raft, carry it a few yards, and then get back in the water. I reminded the others that we should watch out for infected dead that might be hidden by shadows like the one that we had watched trip another infected.

  No one had to say anything about being quiet. Other than the soft brush of the water lapping at the shoreline, it seemed like there was no sound at all. Any noise would probably carry a long way, and we didn’t want anything to hear us, living or dead.

  I think all four of us had this movie playing inside our minds where we pulled the raft up onto the beach and slipped inside the shelter. The problem was that there wasn’t a clear path from the beach to the shelter door. We knew we would make too much noise if we just punched a hole through the heavy trees and underbrush, but we also didn’t want to make a new path for someone else to find. Our best option was to quietly follow the shoreline until we reached the northern dock.

  We whispered softly to each other so we were all in agreement with the plan, and we basically felt like fifteen or twenty more minutes was worth the effort. It had been a long day with some close calls, and we didn’t want to mess things up now that we were on our own doorstep.

  I know we were all hoping the dock would be clear of the infected, but none of us expected to see the houseboat l
it up like a Christmas tree. Against the dark background of the shoreline on the mainland, the houseboat stood out in stark contrast. Literally every light had been turned on, and it sounded like a party was in progress.

  As soon as the houseboat had come into view, we started paddling toward deeper water. Whoever the morons were who had moved in while we were gone, we didn’t want to get to know them. Either they were too stupid to realize how dangerous it was to advertise their location, or they were very confident that it didn’t matter. Whatever they were thinking, we didn’t need to talk it over to know the neighborhood had gone downhill.

  Once we were far enough from shore to be reasonably sure we wouldn’t be spotted, the Chief dropped a small anchor over the side, and we all got as low as we could in the raft. Kathy laid out over the end facing the houseboat with a pair of binoculars.

  “I don’t see anyone on watch,” she said. “As a matter of fact whoever these people are, they aren’t worried about anyone or anything noticing them. That tells me they probably have some serious firepower.”

  The Chief laid forward next to her and took the binoculars. “Looks the same to me, Kathy. They must figure with the door shut, the infected can’t get in, and they won’t show up in large enough numbers to worry about anyway. That leaves people as the only threat, and they either have security we can’t see, or they aren’t worried about other people. I don’t know which is scarier.”

  From the raft the houseboat was so bright that it was almost blinding. If someone on board looked out over the water, they wouldn’t even be able to see the raft because their eyes wouldn’t be accustomed to the darkness.

  “How many people can you see?” I asked,

  “Hard to tell,” answered the Chief. “They’re moving around so much that they must be drinking and having a real party.”

 

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