by TW Brown
She paused and willed her hearing to sharpen. Whether or not that desire helped, she was soon able to make out muffled voices.
Men!
Rushing to the front door in a crouch, she peered into the gloom and shadows. Whoever was inside was not visible in the entry hall. Holding her breath to try and eliminate any source of ambient noise, she continued to listen. Laughter drifted out to her from someplace inside, but it was impossible to pinpoint it.
She tested the doorknob and smiled when it turned. Of course she and Caron had not thought to lock the place when they left. Besides the fact that they had not located a set of keys (although Shadiyah was fairly certain that they could be located in the ignition of the silver Mercedes at the front gate), they had both agreed that locking doors was a pointless exercise in the face of a zombie apocalypse.
The sounds of more glass being broken caused her to jump just as she slipped through the front door. The voices grew louder, and now that she was inside the house, she could make them out a bit more clearly.
“C’mon, ladies, is there any need for that?” a peculiar sounding voice scolded.
“Makes me feel better,” another voice snapped in response.
“Are we here to find supplies or act like fools?” the first voice continued, obviously not happy with the behavior of his companion or companions if that proved to be the case.
“You want to have us put you right back where we found you?” a new voice slurred, sounding as if the owner had spent a majority of the apocalypse in a pub.
“Is that a real question or are you making a threat?”
Shadiyah did not know what it was about the owner of that strange sounding voice, but she liked him. She might actually let him live if the opportunity made itself available.
“I think I have had just about enough of you,” the slurred voice growled.
There was another crash and a shout. A few seconds later, the sounds of somebody running her direction could be heard. That was accompanied by another tremendous crash, and this time, shards of glass erupted from just up ahead as whatever had been thrown exploded against the wall near where the stairs going up were located.
Shadiyah had her scimitar drawn and was prepared for whatever came around that corner…almost. It could have been a number of things and she would have given it no thought at all as she swung her weapon and did her best to cleave whatever it was that appeared. The one thing that caught her by surprise was the dwarf who rounded that corner and briefly skidded to a halt, obviously surprised by her presence as well.
Her brain had just a second to register the fact that any swing she might have taken would have missed had she done so. She was set to basically decapitate her victim, and a blind swing with that in mind at this exact moment would have obviously sailed high.
The man shot a look over his shoulder, but the lack of footfalls in pursuit told everything. Whoever he had been speaking with was obviously not in the mood to actually give chase. He quickly brought his stubby finger to his lips and made the universal sign for her to keep quiet.
The diminutive man pointed to the door behind her and gave a nod of his head. For just a moment, Shadiyah considered simply skewering the man and then moving on, but she had heard things in the exchange upstairs that had given her the notion to spare this man if she was given the chance. Well…the chance was right here.
They slipped outside and moved over in front of the large attached garage where they would be out of sight from any of the upstairs windows. The man kept eyeing her scimitar, but she was not about to put it away. She did notice that he appeared unarmed. Still, looks might be deceiving. After all, wasn’t that exactly what she was counting on?
“Was this your home, miss?’ the man whispered. She guessed him to be Irish judging by the accent.
“Yes,” she lied. Actually, she told herself, that was only a partial lie. She had claimed it a few days ago, but he didn’t need to know the details.
“Then I profoundly apologize. And I would like to say that everything will be okay, but I am afraid my companions are in the cups. The good news is that they won’t likely stay.”
“Oh,” she patted the scimitar, “of that you can be certain.”
The little man seemed to consider her for a moment with something like sadness. At last, after an incredible cracking sound that caused windows to vibrate in their frames, the man squeezed his eyes shut and then continued.
“Those are some nasty fellows. The lot of us were in the clink when all this zombie nonsense started. Got picked up after a wee bit of a tussle in one of the local drinking establishments. What we did…” He paused and shook his head as if clearing it of a nasty memory. “What they did that allowed us to get out? It’s just not fit to tell in mixed company. Do yourself a favor and find someplace to hide for a bit. They’ll be on their way soon enough. I’ll even stick around and help with the cleanin’ if that will help.”
“I’m sorry…what did you say your name was?” Shadiyah asked with a cock of her head.
“Paddy O’ Rourke, at your service.” The man gave a low bow and came up with a smile that quickly faded as her intentions were obviously etched on her face.
“Thank you for the kindness, Paddy,” Shadiyah said, touching the man’s shoulder as she started past. “But I think I can take care of this.”
She was at the door when a thought struck her. She turned, seeing that the man was still regarding her. His face brightened for an instant until she spoke.
“How many?”
With a deep sigh that seemed much bigger than his small figure should allow, he replied, “Two…just two now that I have gone.”
Turning on her heel, Shadiyah went to the front door, opened it, and stepped inside.
***
Simon stood outside the front door and watched the setting sun carve a purple bruise into the clouds that were giving way. He had his very own shaft of light to stand in and enjoyed how warm it felt on his face. Inside the townhouse, Mrs. Raye, that new woman Caron, and Annie were eating beans and some stale bread that she had toasted over a fire that still crackled and snapped, sending little embers skyward with the smoke.
Several of the Micklefield citizens were walking past the house. A few even made a weak attempt at waving as they returned home from the service that Geoff had given for Miles. Simon had stood in the back of the church feeling very out of place.
It wasn’t that he did not feel bad for the friends and family of Miles Carson, or even Cedric or Sydney, or whatever the hell the man’s name was; it was simply that he did not know the man. With all the death that had occurred in the past several weeks, he was starting to feel just a little numb.
Looking west towards the setting sun, he noticed that the haze in the direction of Leeds was thinning. Maybe the fires were finally burning out. Not that he would be heading into that place anytime soon. There were plenty of places with fewer zombies that they could pick through as they began to stockpile their resources.
“You ready?” Caron asked him as she stepped outside.
“Yeah.”
Simon gave himself a mental pat down. He had his mace, a nifty machete that Nelson had given him at the little memorial service, and two knives on his belt. He had opted to leave the rifle with Mrs. Raye. He was simply not comfortable with using the thing. He had as much chance of shooting himself as he did a zombie.
“You do realize that she is not an idiot. I just don’t see her going back there.” Caron pulled the door shut and followed Simon down the walkway.
“I still need to look. I can’t believe that she came all the way here just to tell me that she had put my sister to rest.”
“I think she was just doing it to square things between you. She felt that she owed you something for leaving her a note?” Caron ended that last sentence as a question. She had never actually seen a note and had to know if it was real or just an excuse by Shadiyah.
“I just told her where we were going in case she wanted
to join us. I can’t fathom anybody that would want to spend the rest of their lives alone. And these days, that is asking for death…or worse.”
“I don’t like the idea of making this trip when night is falling,” Caron complained, although she already knew the reason. If there was any chance that Shadiyah was still at the house, it was probably a narrow window of opportunity.
“I told you that you could draw me a map,” Simon reminded.
Caron sighed and followed Simon over a fence. They were now officially outside of the protective barricades of Micklefield. She had only been there a short time, but already it had made an impression. There was a sense of safety and well-being in that little village setting. She knew that it was an illusion, but still, it beat the feeling of being exposed that overflowed every pore with a sense that was very close to dread.
It was not long before they had to pull out their weapons. She briefly wondered if it might be the fact that they were wearing lights strapped to their heads. The dark shapes coming at them were moaning, but in their midst the sound of a baby cry could be heard. Caron froze in her tracks. How could that be possible?
“What’s wrong?” Simon asked as the woman just suddenly stopped walking.
“You don’t hear that?” Caron asked in return.
“What?” Simon paused and then let out an uneasy laugh. “You mean the town crier? Some of the zombies make that noise for whatever reason.”
“That is terrible.”
“I imagine it has cost more than a few people their lives,” Simon agreed.
Together, the pair moved in and took down the zombies. It was surprisingly simple, and Simon said as much when they had dispatched the last one.
“Would you rather we be dealing with Danny Boyle’s sprinting lunatics?” Caron scoffed as she wiped off her blade before putting it back in its sheath.
“Of course not, but it is just so strange to see this happen for real. I saw a few of those shows back when I was younger. Always thought that I would be some sort of hero that rallied people together and took a stand,” Simon said wistfully.
“Isn’t that exactly what is happening?”
“Not really.” Simon was quiet for a moment as the pair walked along in the darkness under a full moon whose beauty was benefitting from the clearing sky.
“Last I checked, weren’t you basically voted in by the people of Micklefield to run things?”
“Mrs. Raye is the real rudder to that ship,” Simon admitted with a sigh. “I listen to pretty much everything that she has to say and use that to make my decisions when I am asked to do so.”
“A good leader knows to surround himself with the right people. Nobody is going to have all the answers. You are smart to rely on people who will give you their help.”
“Yeah,” Simon agreed. “But with Mrs. Raye, you are never certain if you are taking advice or being led by the nose to a specific point.”
Caron chuckled. “Yeah, I sort of picked up on that with her. What is her deal?”
Simon proceeded to fill their travel time with the whole story (as he saw it) about his little group; he also gave more of the story regarding Shadiyah and Cedric. He tried to do his best not to editorialize, especially when it came to Cedric. He left out the part about his having been bitten.
“Wow, you guys had a nasty go of it,” Caron said after hearing everything. “I still don’t really understand why Shadiyah wanted to come see you and tell you that she took care of your sister, and when are you going to let people know that you were bit?”
There was an absolute silence between them for several heartbeats. Simon finally stopped walking and folded his arms across his chest.
“Who told you?” He was going to have to give Mrs. Raye a stern talking to if she had revealed this to a stranger. Granted, this stranger was going to be travelling alone with him, so perhaps she had the right to know. Still, shouldn’t that be his choice?
“Shadiyah.”
Once again an odd silence fell. At last, Simon found his voice. “How could she know?”
“She said that your sister had dried blood around her mouth. I don’t think it was a stretch to guess who she bit.” Caron paused, and then continued. “Actually, seeing you was some very good news for me.”
She explained how she had been bitten and that she believed herself to be a goner all the way up until she saw Simon. To actually be able to confirm (based on his reaction) that he had indeed been bitten all those days ago and had not died and turned was a blessing. Simon listened and suddenly found himself liking this woman.
They were actually having a casual conversation when they heard the screams. They both froze and shut their mouths in order to be able to try and pinpoint wherever the source of that terrible scream had originated.
“That is a man,” Simon whispered.
“Poor bastard,” Caron breathed. “And it is in the direction we are going.”
Another scream came, this one ending with a suddenness that sent chills down Simon’s spine. It sounded like somebody had just suffered an amazingly terrible ending. What it did not sound like was somebody that had just been eaten by a zombie. There was a hitch-and-go to those screams; as opposed to whenever somebody was being torn apart and could not actually get a full enough breath for a long shriek. This particular person had given a good, long cry of pain.
“Come on,” Simon finally said, breaking into a jog.
“What?” Caron grabbed his arm and spun him around. “Are you mad?”
“I have been just letting things go since this started. Maybe if I would have actually acted like the police officer that I was going to become…or at least thought I was…maybe then, Shadiyah would still be with us. Maybe Miranda—”
“You did nothing wrong with Miranda. From what you said, you tried to take care of her in every way possible. I think that we are just lucky. I don’t know if we will meet anybody else like us, but we are truly blessed.”
“I can’t just ignore—” Simon began, but Caron cut him off, jerking him hard so that he almost fell.
“That is coming from the Bitt house…the one we were headed for,” she hissed.
“That makes no sense,” Simon said with a frown.
“I think it makes perfect sense,” Caron breathed as she let go of Simon and started for the house.
“What? Wait…now you are going to the house?” Simon was very confused. “You just tried to stop me and now you are just going to march right up?”
“Shadiyah is still here,” Caron whispered over her shoulder. “I would be willing to wager on it.”
Simon stood there for a few seconds until what the woman had just said finally sunk in. He hurried to catch up, his hands fumbling as he weighed the desire to protect himself against showing up and confronting Shadiyah with a weapon drawn that might send her over the edge.
They reached the rock wall and the Mercedes that had crashed into the gate with its owner still inside and trying in futility to get at the living beings that climbed up onto the hood and vaulted over. There was a glow from within the house, but it was diffused enough that Simon guessed it to be well inside.
Caron tried the front door and stepped inside the entry hall. Simon joined her, wincing when he stepped on some broken glass. The sounds of sobbing could be heard, and hopefully they were loud enough so that his little noise did not get caught.
It was obvious that the person doing the crying and begging was male. There was a smell that Simon was trying to identify when he heard the distinctive sound of sizzling flesh. He gagged a little when he realized that his mouth had started to water at the smell of cooking meat when that sizzle was quickly drowned out by the accompanying scream.
“Yes, keep it up,” a familiar voice cooed. “That should bring a few of those nasty zombies. Right? So scream some more. There will not be anybody coming to help you.”
“I think you’ve made your point, lass,” another voice said. “The boy has probably learned his lesson. In any case
…I don’t believe either of them will be hurting anybody ever again.”
“You can go if you like. I’m not done,” Shadiyah’s voice hissed. “Consider that your final warning.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be on my way then.”
Simon and Caron looked around frantically for someplace to hide. They settled on ducking behind the island counter in the kitchen. They made it just as footsteps came at a steady pace into the living room and paused. Both of them held their breath in the hopes that they would not be discovered.
As the crunch of glass came, announcing that whoever it was that had been with Shadiyah (supposedly of his own free will) was about to walk out the door, Simon risked a peek. He was more than a little surprised to see a man who could barely be much past three feet tall; and there was no doubt with the red stubble on his face that this was a man and not a child.
“I wish you well, lass. But I fear those demons living behind your eyes will soon consume your soul.” With that, the Irishman left.
Simon and Caron stared at each other with a mix of confusion and concern. At last, Simon whispered, “Let’s go get her.”
***
Shadiyah stared at the door for a moment. A small part of her wanted to take the advice Paddy had tried to give her. She could walk away from this now and start over.
“That is the beautiful thing about a zombie apocalypse, lass,” he had said with his big smile that almost looked like it would split his round face in two. “Every single day for the rest of your life is like a reset button has been pressed. Did you do something naughty? Well, unless you are in a group of people, there is nobody to hold it against you. Hell, if you do something really horrible and cause somebody to be eaten by those stench ridden sacks of pus, well, they’re gone and nobody will be the wiser. Reset.”
Shadiyah was also just a bit confused. According to Paddy, these two men had treated him poorly. Supposedly, they had hung him from a lamp post at one point and used him as bait for the zombies so that they could slip in and out of a small market. How could he be okay with that? How could he allow these horrible individuals to exist in this world another day?