Walking Bodies

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Walking Bodies Page 2

by Durman, Jason


  "Can't you come up with ideas like that more often?"

  I smiled at him. Though it sounded more like a scold, I knew it was just his way of saying way-to-go-kid. Even Aiden nodded, though he seemed unimpressed."Get more ammo, we're not out of here yet." A pack of ammo was sent fly towards my face. I turned away and put my hands up to catch it before in came into contact with my already bruised up nose.

  Catching it, brought it down to glare. Markus held up his hands, in an 'my bad' pose "Sorry" he chuckled. Grinning, I waved my gun in a playful manner, and stood up to full height. I wanted to go upstairs again. I needed to see what was underneath the bed. Could it be an infected? Maybe a scared survivor? Or maybe just a rat. Probably a rat.

  A distant sound of a motor brought me back to current focus. It sounded like a boat, or a car. My eyes widened, and I looked to my teammates. Aiden had a smug grin on his face and was slapping Markus on the back, who was peeking out a window. Steve was still smoking, blank faced as ever.

  Markus peeked out the broken shards of glass, and I followed. I could see it through the fog and it got even louder now. Coming out of the woods was a large truck, a mud splattered, dirty, but human controlled truck. I saw three soldiers in the back, holding large guns and one of them holding a scanner of some sort. I couldn't see at this distance, but I felt my heat beat faster and the excitement of getting out of here was overtaking me.

  "Steve, it's them…" My voice cracked ever so slightly, but I didn't care. Aiden was already outside, having climbed out the window when I wasn't looking. He waved towards the truck, trying to catch their attention. Markus was following him, and I even found myself trying to climb through.

  The sound of a throat clearing caught my attention and I shifted around to face Steve, who amusedly stood by the open door way. How an old man could push it down by himself, don't know, don't care. I chuckled for acting dumb, and removed myself from the window.

  Following Steve, I had to cover my nose from the stench. There wasn't even a single fully intact body in sight. Everyone had some limb or other part missing. I took a notice of the pile of bodies by the two windows we fired at. They were all stacked up on each other, just a pile of rotting flesh.

  Markus and Aiden were already on the truck. Laughing and talking with the men. Aiden caught sight of the open door gap and raised a brow. I laughed as I was pulled up onto the truck. Steve was the last one up. "What? Doors not cool enough for you, Aiden?" I joked.

  One of the soldiers shot a surprised look at me and him. "Your name is Aiden? Man, that's gold!" All three solders burst into laughter and I joined in myself. It felt good to laugh after fighting this long. These were the moments I treasured the most.

  Of course they never last forever.

  We heard the screeching at the same time, and did what reflexes have been taught to do; grab our guns and start shooting. More figures from the trees, only this time it wasn't as much as there was before. I couldn't shoot the distance that the men could with my measly pistol, so I just watched the sky and watched for any special infected.

  "Well, I think it's about time we ditch this dump, eh fellas?"

  The fellow soldiers agreed with their comrade. The one closest to the inside banged against the tinted glass. The wheels started moving and we were driving away. The infected crowds were growing more and more away as we moved away.

  I took a deep breath, and smiled. "So where now?" The soldier beside me reloaded his gun before replying. "We have a safe place, not well populated, but has plenty of weapons and food. We'll take you there, then have you-"

  I didn't get to hear the rest of the sentence. A slimy appendage wrapped itself around my mid-section and for a split second, everything was frozen. Then I was yanked out of the truck and onto the ground.

  "Sara!"

  Their voices were lost throughout the screeching. I heard gunfire and felt the tongue loosen and I ripped it off me. I could do nothing but sit on the ground as I watched them drive away. The soldiers were holding my friends back, like they were about to jump straight out of the truck.

  I wanted them to. I didn't want to be left alone. I didn't want to die here. So I turned and ran away from the woods. It would have been useless to chase after the truck; the infected would have gotten me first. Markus had given me ammo before, but I never reloaded my gun.

  None of the infected seemed to head directly towards me, mostly heading for the disappearing truck. I shot my way through two or three and stumbled into the doorway. I didn't have the strength or time to put back up the couch or shoot through the windows downstairs. So I did the next thing I could think of.

  Running upstairs, I looked around, panting. The bed caught my eye. With a heave, I pushed it over the opening of the stairs and it covered the same way the couch did the doorway. I normally wouldn't have the strength to do that in record time like I did, but I guess when your life is at stake the adrenaline rushing through your veins makes you stronger.

  There was a small hole in the ceiling where the roof had cave in. It could expose me, but it could also be a hasty escape route. I readied my gun and pulled myself high enough to look outside the opening. All the infected had stopped running for the house, and were running into the same woods that my dear friends have just driven away into.

  I wiped away my wet eyes. I need perfect vision right now; blurry vision could cost me my life. Looking around, the body of a Trapper lay on the tile nearby. He must have been on the roof and when he was killed, fell off to the side.

  If only I had paid more attention when I was in the truck, I could of killed the Trapper before it had ever snatched me. But instead, I let my guard down and now I'm stuck here alone.

  Sitting against the wall, I curled my knees to my chest. I clutched my only gun in my right hand, and fought the urge to cry. Making too much noise would give away my position. But it was hard.

  I put my head down, and sobbed quietly. They saw me get yanked out of that truck, and yet they didn't turn around to save me. I don't blame them. Steve or Aiden, even Markus would have jumped out to save me, but they were held back, and now I'm on my own.

  Tears blocked my vision, so when I felt a little prick on my head, I didn't pay any attention to it. I thought I could feel migraine coming on.

  Raising my head, I found lethal, bloody teeth and claws instead. I rather would of had the headache.

  Chapter 3

  I couldn't find my breath, and the noises from the disappearing horde outside were nothing compared to growls from the Leaper in front of me. The fabric of the hood brushed up against my forehead and the smell was so foul that I couldn't bare it. But the will to survive piped up and I did the only thing I could have done at the moment.

  Diving my palms into his shoulders, I pushed with all my might and then some. The Leaper fell to the floor, dazed. Usually, there would have been no way for me to have done that, but I guess I caught him off guard. I rushed to the stairs, then to the roof when the bed I found was covering the being exposed. It was better than being stuck in a room with blood thirsty predator.

  I ripped off a tile from the part of the roof that was hanging down and chucked it at him. He yelped and I guessed I hit bull's eye. I gripped the sides of the hole and hoisted myself up onto the top of house as quickly as I could. I looked around for a chance to find something, anything to block the hole.

  I spotted the Trapper's body, and my hands moved on their own. I placed it over the hole, and ran to the side. I knew zombies weren't smart enough to open doors on their own, so I hoped that sheer chance that the Leaper would think that he was trapped in there. I decided to believe it would work, dispite knowing how stupid and dumb the tactic was.

  There was a pipe, on the left of the house. I could slide down and make my escape. But where would I go? Into the forest? I didn't have a choice. I ran to the pipe and checked my back pocket for my gun before I descended. It would have been horrible to have left my gun in the room.

&nb
sp; The second my feet were in the ground, I started running. Now, I could feel the ache in my legs rising and starting to spread throughout my body. I ignored it, I've felt much worse before. I was getting closer to the trees when I heard an outraged cry.

  I knew it was the Leaper but I didn't look back to see if he had escaped. I just kept running, and running. I don't know how long I ran, or even in what direction I ran in, I just knew I was lost and alone. There was no common infected, or any special infected. Other than that dreaded Leaper, if he was still chasing me. It's near impossible to out run a Leaper, but it couldn't hurt to try.

  Stopping, I put my hands on my knees. I need to catch my breath. Part of me feels like I'm about to lose it forever. Don't think about that Sara, just keep moving. I looked up. Everything in my sight was trees,dirt and leaves. So where do I run?

  The sky was getting dark, and I really wished I had some sort of shelter or companion with me. But as I stared up at the branches, I knew I only had one place to take cover tonight.

  The sun was already over the horizon and I was forced to turn my flashlight on by the time I was in a tree high enough from the ground. My clothing had rips and tears and splinters imbedded in them. I'm pretty sure I've gotten a couple of scratches and bruises just trying to climb up. I haven't climbed up a tree since the 6th grade.

  I was a good height up off the ground, and in a spot where I can safely lay and get a rest before any common could get me, but special infected I wasn't sure about. I clutched my gun and watched as the moon rise high. Shutting my eyes only when my breathing calmed. God, I wished my dad was here.

  My dad would still probably be alive if I hadn't of shot him. The DNA that had kept me from getting infected had been in his blood. I got it from him. My mother wasn't so lucky with the genetics. Women need two chromosomes to become immune when men only need one.

  My mother had one, and my father had one, giving me two. My mother was the first infected I had to kill. She was attacked and bitten before our eyes. I was told to get the phone but when I came back, Mom was already latched onto my father's throat.

  Once she was dead, I had tears flowing down my cheeks and I leaned down to dad. He sat up in the corner, took my hand in his and begged for me not to let him turn. I didn't have much of a choice. I said I love you, shot him, and left, not even looking back. I know now that if I had patched him up and let him heal, he wouldn't have turned. But I couldn't change the past now.

  The night was quiet and dark. I was still debating on whether or not I should try to get some shuteye. I know that common infected couldn't hurt me way up here, but there was always a chance that one could somehow discover a way to climb up to me and rip me out from there.

  There was also the chance of a special infected. But I don't think I would be attacked at this time, it was two dark. I know Trappers and Leapers had better eyesight than humans, but its useless being this dark, it's not like they had night vision.

  My droopy eyelids won the argument over my head and I let my head rest up against the bark of the tree. This was my first night sleeping in a tree since the break out, and I've slept in some pretty weird places.

  The crickets around me became silent as I felt myself become lightweight and dropping into the black.

  The sun burned my eyes when I opened them in the morning. The first thought that came to mind was to make sure everyone else was awake. Then I remember how they were taken from me and driven away to who knows where. I swallowed and sat myself up top get a good view on the upper parts of the forest.

  Now was the time to start thinking about my options. My first one was to go back to the house and try and follow the trail to the military camp, or safe zone, or whatever they called it. My second option was to make my way through to the other side of the woods and go back into the city and then go through all of the past few weeks again just to exit on the other side.

  I briefly thought about seriously going back to the house, and a small thought of my friends going back there to look for me imbedded itself in my mind. I rubbed my forehead, and picked out the tiny pieces of bark inside my ponytail. I could try to go back, but it would just get me killed. The area was already overrun to the brim with infected and it would be suicide to try and make it out in such an open area.

  I was already heading in an known direction. So I just decided to keep heading this way. I had to keep moving, otherwise the infected could corner me up a tree or in some other dreaded place. I truly hoped that this was this last time I would have to spend my night hiding within the branches.

  I jumped down branch after branch. My shoes made a crunching sound as I hit the leaves on the ground. I almost wanted to kiss the dirt. My dreams of as last night consisted of infected falling from the sky or floating up to me and knocking me out of the tree. Or worse.

  I seriously hope that they didn't mutant enough to where they grow wings and could snatch us up if they wanted too. But then, Trappers already snatched us, and Leapers' kind of fall from the sky, so I guess I could handle a couple flying zombies. If I weren't on my own.

  I removed myself from the train of thought. If I didn't keep a good focus, I could be surprised attacked.

  The woods weren't as scary or hard to navigate through in the day time. I could plainly see through the trees and could make an easy run for it if I had to. I turned my head when I heard footsteps. A single snarling infected rushed me from my left. I didn't even have to waste my bullets on it.

  I kicked at its kneecap and it buckled to the ground. I kept a foot on its head, crushing it until I heard a little crack, and it stopped moving. I would of carried on my way had I not heard the suffering wimpers nearby.

  My first thought was that it was a Siren, and to just keep walking. My second thought was that it was a survivor in need. These whimpers didn't sound like a Siren. Sirenes were mournful and sad. These sounded like they were in a lot of pain and anguish.

  I shouldn't let my soft side get to me and I should just keep on walking. But my feet wasn't heading in the direction of the city, instead it was nearing the pathetic sounds. I was getting closer, as they became louder.

  I rounded a tree and my eyes widened as my gun went up.

  He, or I assumed it was a he, pulled at his leg, his own claws stretching open the wound even worse. The duct tape covered the leg caught in a bear trap, and the sharp points of the device were slowly digging into him as he whimpered.

  I was behind him, and planned to stay that way. The escape plan of just creeping back the way I came vanished as he stopped and turned to face my direction. He growled at my human face, but his gaze landed on my gun and he stopped short.

  How did a bear trap get here? Maybe a Leaper set it up as a trap for the infected more than trying to hunt animals, or maybe the military camp was closer than I thought and this was one of their traps. Either way, I pitied the poor killer who continued to rip his own leg.

  I briefly wondered if this was the same Leaper from the abandoned house. I hoped it wasn't, knowing that the thing had followed me all the way here just made me feel insecure.

  I put my gun in the back of my pants and slowly stepped over to him. He noticed me getting closer and made a desperate swipe at my legs. I jumped back and pulled my gun back out into view, that's when he went silent and did his best to crawl away from me, bringing the bear trap with him.

  So he knew what a gun was, and that it could kill him. Or at least hurt him. I guess infected were smarter than they were given credit for. I always thought they were just lost their minds once they were infected and went crazy on anyone that wasn't. I never took it in account that they actually had some sort of life value.

  I pitied him. My eyes sunk down to the metal death trap attached to his leg, then to the lethel claws attached to his hands. I could shoot him. I really could. But I'm not. Why? Because I just feel like a fucking softy today.

  Besides, he was in no fit shape to try and attack me. Even if he did try to race afte
r me, that leg would slow him down at least enough to where I can get far, far away from here.

  I put the gun in my pants again, and held my hands out in front of me to show that I was unarmed. Probably not the best thing to do, but I didn't want my head taken off trying to help this guy. Or for him to squirm away and make it even worse.

  He squirmed anyway. He kept scooting backwards until he was backed up against the bark of a tree. He growled and snarled feral warnings, and I didn't blame him. If someone I thought was going to kill me slowly approached my helpless figure, I would have probably cussed the bastard out too.

  I slowly put my hands on the release of the bear trap. I was glad this kind had a cleverly placed lever on the side that you had to twist in a certain way to let loose. If it wasn't, I would have to figure out another way to let him out or just leave the Leaper entirely.

  I clicked the lever, but didn't let go just yet. I wasn't watching my hands, but I was staring at the Leaper underneath the hood. The hood shadowed his face, so I couldn't see his eyes. I really couldn't tell if he was looking at me from his point of view. Not sure if it mattered. I only thought of what the deadly claws could do to me if I even glance away from him.

  My hands left the lever and the trap went loose.

  I was already 15ft away watched as he used his hands to cover the bleeding from his wound. He screeched at me from a distance, but yelped as he accidently poked the swollen skin with the tip of his claw. I watched him closely.

  I've seen and treated worse. But the way he whined about it, it seemed as if it needed to be amputated. But I wasn't that caring. I pulled my gun back out and held it up to make sure he could spot it, if he even thought of trying anything funny.

  I crept backwards as he pulled himself into standing position. He gave me a solid look before leaping away into the tree, and I lost him immediately.

  I face palmed myself mentally. What have I done? Got yourself a one way ticket to hell, that's what. Then again, with something like that festering on his leg, he wouldn't be able to pin me down. He's probably withering in pain now; he just wanted to get away from the freak with a gun.

 

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