Divided We Rot (One Nation Under Zombies Book 3)

by Raymond Lee

  She stuffed a wad of paper towels over the bite, using the elastic of her underwear to keep it in place, and pulled up her jeans. She pulled her knife out of the woman’s head and wiped it down on another towel before putting it back in her pocket and leaving the bathroom. She moved quickly to the sales floor and looked out the window to see Torres working at getting gas out of one of the underground reservoir tanks, his back to her. Knowing she didn’t have much time, she moved quickly through the store in search of supplies. She found rubbing alcohol to disinfect but couldn’t find any bandages. She searched for something she could use instead and grabbed a box of maxi pads and a roll of masking tape.

  She carried her supplies back to the bathroom and dumped everything in one of the sinks before locking the door. She needed to be out of the bathroom soon or Torres would know something was up. She had to leave him for his own safety, but she couldn’t leave him just yet. It wouldn’t take him long at all to find her if she made a run for it. She had to stay with him until he went to sleep. Until then she had to appear normal, and as she twisted the cap off the rubbing alcohol she silently hoped she’d somehow avoid getting sick, still clinging to the hope that her wound was so minor she’d be safe from catching the virus and she was worrying for nothing. She didn’t want to leave Torres. It was bad enough not knowing where Raven was or what condition she was in. Losing two people would be unbearable.

  She unfastened her jeans and pulled them down to mid-thigh before removing the wad of paper towels. She wet a new paper towel with the alcohol and pressed it against the bite mark, gasping at the burning sensation it caused as it touched her marred flesh. She gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain, ignoring the burn of liquid fire as best she could. She had to give herself every chance of surviving the bite, even if she knew the chance was beyond slim. Once she finished with the alcohol, she discarded the bottle and unwrapped a maxi pad. She pressed the pad against the wound and used the masking tape to affix it to her body. She shook her head, looking at the makeshift bandage. There were first aid supplies in their backpacks in the truck, but for the moment the pad and tape would have to do.

  She discarded the items she’d brought into the bathroom, readjusted her clothes, careful not to dislodge her wound dressing, fastened herself back into the coat she’d left on the stall hook and left the bathroom to scavenge before Torres finished with the gas and came in to find out what she was doing.

  The gas station had been picked over as would be expected considering the man who’d shot himself had most likely been staying there awhile. As she walked through items strewn about the floor she kicked aside a couple of shell casings and noticed bullet holes in one of the refrigerator doors. Whether those came from a zombie attack or a standoff between the man who’d eventually killed himself and others passing through, trying to stock up on supplies, she didn’t know, but she feared what the world was becoming, knowing it would only continue to grow more dangerous as supplies became more scarce. She looked down at the gun she kept sheathed at her side and a cold shiver skated the length of her spine. She’d have to use it on herself if she grew sick.

  The door opened and Torres stepped inside, spitting. “I got gas in my mouth while getting the suction going on the hose. Damn that shit’s nasty.” He walked across to the refrigerators, pulled out a hot soft drink and took a big swig. He swished and spit it back out, then repeated the process. “There any mouthwash in here?”

  “I’m not sure,” Sky said as she walked over to the checkout counter and grabbed plastic bags. By the time she turned around Torres had grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator and was searching the shelves.

  “Yasssss,” he said, setting his bat down so he could open a travel-sized box of toothpaste and a toothbrush.

  “You’re brushing your teeth now?”

  “Damn right I’m brushing my teeth now. My mouth is gross.” He used the bottled water to wet the brush and started brushing right there in the middle of the gas station, giving extra attention to his tongue.

  Sky shook her head and started searching the shelves. She found nuts and jerky and stuffed them in a bag, scavenging for Torres, not herself. If she grew sick she wouldn’t take his food when she left. She wouldn’t need it.

  “Grah da feena buhwer.”

  “What?”

  Torres twisted the cap off of a travel-sized bottle of Listerine as he spit out a glob of foamy toothpaste. “Grab that peanut butter,” he said before swishing the Listerine in his mouth and spitting it out onto the floor.

  “That’s kind of gross.”

  “This place was gross before we got here, honey. There’s dead people rotting in here. If anyone does enter this building after us they’ll be so desperate for supplies they won’t give a crap about my spit.” He grabbed one of her bags and started helping her scavenge. “We gotta go. You sure you’re all right? You’re moving pretty slow. Did you even have anything before I came in?”

  “This place is messier than the last place I scavenged, and I’m alone. I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

  “Anything to get us through the winter,” Torres said, grabbing protein bars. “Just grab as much as you can haul so we can leave before it gets so bad out there we can’t drive.”

  “Wake up, baby girl.”

  Sky opened her eyes and raised her head, realizing she’d fallen asleep with her head against the door. They were parked along the curb outside of a pale yellow house. Its door was wide open.

  “That house has a fireplace, which we need, and the door is open so chances of a family already being in there are slim.”

  “What about chances of zombies?” she asked, her throat scratchy. She hoped it was due to the cold, but deep down she feared her end was beginning.

  “I’m about to find out. You stay here while I go clear it.”

  “No, I’ll come with you.”

  “Sky.”

  “I came with you in the gas station,” she reminded him, stopping just short of telling him everything had been fine then. She couldn’t tell him what had happened, but didn’t want to lie to him if she didn’t have to.

  “Fine, but if I say run you run right back to this truck no matter what.”

  “I will.”

  Torres sighed and looked at the house, scanning it and the yard. Everything around them was covered in a blanket of snow. “For the first time in months, the world actually looks beautiful.”

  “It does,” she agreed. “I hope we don’t have to mess it up.”

  “Me too. Let’s go.”

  Sky exited the truck and dropped down into snow that rose to her kneecaps. Torres had ran the heat at full blast after they’d left the gas station to dry their jeans and now they were going to be soaked again.

  “Stay behind me and watch my back,” Torres said, passing her with his bat in hand. She followed him through the yard and up the porch steps, careful not to slip. She waited, shivering, as he leaned inside and looked around. The moonlight reflected off the snow, giving them enough light to see if there were any monsters lurking inside.

  They didn’t see any lurking monsters, but the furniture told a story. Something had happened in the house. The couch had been flipped over, the recliner was on its side, and the coffee table was a broken mess. Torres crossed the room slowly, his entire body tense, poised for attack. Sky followed behind, her hand curled around the hem of Torres’s coat. They stepped into the kitchen to find a mess. All of the cabinets and the refrigerator door were open and it looked like the room had been ransacked.

  “I’m betting on raccoons or cats,” Torres said, looking around at the mess. “Watch where you step. Who knows where they might have shit.”

  “Are they still here?”

  “I hope not.” He took a look outside the kitchen window as he closed it, checked the back door to make sure it was secure, and carefully stepped over shredded food boxes to get to the bathroom which was small enough all he really had to do was look insid
e, but Sky stood back as he stepped in to draw back the shower curtain.

  A small herd of raccoons hissed and leapt from the tub, running past Sky and Torres as they jumped back, both of them squealing. They looked at each other and laughed as the raccoons scampered through the kitchen to the living room and out the front door, which had been left open a crack in case they’d found something bad inside and needed a hasty getaway.

  “If you ever tell anyone my voice got that high I’ll be very upset,” Torres said, gathering himself. He peeked into the tub before wrinkling his nose and closing the curtain. “That’s gonna need to be cleaned up. Hopefully there’s some bleach. We can melt snow to use for water, even take baths every once in a while.”

  “If we stay here.”

  “It’s going to take a lot more than raccoon piss in the bath tub and a messy couple of rooms to get me back out in that snow. All that shit’s going to freeze over tonight and the roads are going to be super slick. And forget walking. We’ll lose our freaking toes.”

  He dipped down a narrow hall with two doors, both closed. He looked back at Sky and motioned for her to stay a couple feet behind him, then turned the doorknob and pushed the first door open, immediately going into his batter stance. He waited, ready to pounce, but nothing moved inside the room. “Ya know, if I was a smart man I’d have brought a flashlight.”

  He slowly moved inside the room, skirted the queen-sized bed, and moved to the window to crack the blinds, allowing more of the snow’s illumination to enter the room and help make it easier to navigate. There was the bed and a dresser with a mirror, two nightstands and a small desk with a computer. It appeared untouched. He moved to the closet and looked in it. “Winter clothes are left. It looks like they packed summer clothes. I’m guessing the family who lived here left at the beginning and somehow the raccoons got in and messed shit up in the rooms open to them.

  Sky looked down at the scratch marks on the doors and baseboards, and agreed. “Will they get back in?”

  “Doubtful since I closed the kitchen window and we’ll keep the doors closed once we take over this place. If they do somehow get back in, they’re going on a stick and getting roasted over the fire,” Torres said as he stepped into the hall and went to the other door.

  “Torres, you wouldn’t!”

  “Let me get hungry enough and I’ll have no problem giving raccoon nuggets a try,” he said, “especially if the little shits try to get our food.” He opened the door to the second bedroom and strolled through, this one better lit by blinds that had been left open. It contained a twin bed with a pink comforter and several pillows that seemed to be competing with stuffed animals for space. The walls were pink and lined with lavender shelves which were also covered in stuffed animals, mainly unicorns and teddy bears. A pink and lavender dresser rested against the wall beneath a mirror decorated with unicorn stickers, and posters of Justin Bieber decorated the walls.

  “Ew, it’s a Belieber’s room,” Sky said, curling her lip.

  Torres laughed at her before peeking in the closet. “Well, the Belieber appears to be about your size so you can wear her clothes.

  “I’m not wearing them if they have Justin Bieber on them, but we can use them for the fireplace.”

  “Fine by me.” Torres walked over to her, ruffling her hair as he walked past. “It’s all clear. I’m going to grab our stuff and bring it in. Why don’t you find some jeans that aren’t wet from the knees down?”

  “You don’t need help bringing things in?”

  “No, sweetheart. You get changed and I’ll bring everything in, then work on getting the furniture moved and a fire going in that fireplace.”

  He headed out before Sky could protest, leaving her alone to find a change of clothes. She started to grab a pair of sweatpants from the closet but the subtle ache in her throat reminded her she wasn’t going to be staying in the house with Torres long. She’d be back outside before morning and even if she expected to die soon after leaving, she didn’t want to spend her last moments of life walking around in the snow in soggy sweatpants. She looked through the closet and the dresser, opting on a pair of thick black leggings to wear under jeans, a long-sleeved navy blue T-shirt and a Minnie Mouse sweatshirt. She grabbed two pairs of socks, deciding to double up if she was going back out in the wintery mess, and lucked into finding hiking boots only half a size bigger than her foot. She grabbed them anyway, deciding the extra pair of socks would help them fit better, and they’d definitely keep her feet drier than her tennis shoes.

  The clothes were cold as she pulled them on, but they were dry. Once Torres finished bringing in their supplies and got the fireplace going, she was sure she’d warm up. In the meantime she decided to make herself useful and clean up the kitchen. She went back to the mess and stood hands on hips, shaking her head. She’d always thought raccoons were cute, but could see why people didn’t want them around. They hadn’t left a single part of the room untouched.

  Sky tiptoed around the kitchen and the small attached mudroom until she found a broom, a dustpan, and garbage bags, then set to work. She removed the garbage bag from the wastebasket, seeing that it had been destroyed by the raccoons too and fitted another trash bag inside the basket. She deposited the ruined trash bag inside it and started picking up ripped apart food boxes and other larger debris from the floor. She’d just finished throwing the larger items in and moved along to wiping the counters down with paper towels, knocking debris onto the floor, when Torres stepped inside the room and took a look around.

  “You find any cleaning products?” he asked.

  “There’s some stuff I found under the sink. I’m going to look in the bathroom after I get the counters wiped down. There’s some Lysol wipes that were on the counter next to the sink. I’ll wipe everything down with those after I get the stuff off.”

  Torres stepped out and returned a moment later with a bucket of cleansing products and a stack of rags. “This is what was available in the bathroom. There’s a garage and a shed outside. I’m going to go out and see if there’s any firewood or at least an ax to chop shit up if we have to. Once I do that I’ll push furniture out the way in the living room and get that fireplace going. After we get it swept up good I’ll bring the big mattress in so we can sleep in front of the fire. The couch and recliner are probably covered in raccoon droppings and piss anyway. Scream if you need me.” He exited through the backdoor and Sky shivered as the cold air washed over her. The inside of the house wasn’t that warm, but at least it blocked the wind.

  She finished her preliminary wipe down of the counter and tossed every loose item she found on every surface in the kitchen and in the refrigerator into the trashcan before following up with the Lysol wipes. By the time she finished wiping down all the surfaces she needed to replace the bag in the trashcan. Once that was done she went through the cabinets and drawers, bracing herself each time she opened anything that had been closed, afraid a snarly mammal would jump out and eat her face, but she lucked out and didn’t find any straggling critters, not even a roach, which was shocking considering the level of filth.

  She was just starting on the floor when Torres stepped back inside with an armful of firewood. “Lucked out,” he said, crossing the room to drop the wood off inside the living room before making another trip out.

  Sky coughed as she continued to sweep the floor and rubbed her throat, the scratchiness starting to really irritate her. Her eyes burned and she wished for a chilled can of Ginger Ale and some chicken noodle soup. She’d found a few canned goods left behind in one of the cabinets and wiped the lids off with Lysol wipes to get any raccoon germs off of them, but none had been soup. She was still working on the floor when Torres stepped back through with more firewood, deposited it in the living room and went back out. The third time he came in he had an ax swinging from his hand and locked the door behind him. “That should last us for a while before I have to make another trip out. I guess when it gets down to it, I’ll be cutting down trees
in the neighborhood, hell, maybe privacy fences, whatever will burn.”

  Her throat hurting, Sky only nodded as she continued filling the dustpan and throwing its contents into the trash.

  “You all right baby girl?”

  She nodded.

  Torres studied her a moment then left the room, walking back in shortly after with several bags of supplies they’d grabbed at the gas station. He deposited them on the freshly cleaned countertop. “You’ve done real good in here. I’m going to move the living room furniture over to the edges of the room to give us some space. Can you sweep that room up while I work on getting the fire going?”

  “Sure,” Sky said as she deposited the last of the mess from the floor into the garbage and moved into the living room.

  She watched as Torres shoved the furniture out of their way, using the sofa which had had its cushions gnawed to block the front door, then wedged the recliner in next to it. The entertainment center was already pressed against a wall so he picked up what was left of the smashed flat screen television and shoved it next to it before picking up the large shattered fragments of glass and components that had been inside it and depositing them in the trash can Sky had pulled in from the kitchen.

  “This wood is unvarnished so we can use it for the fire,” Torres said, eying the remains of the coffee table. “Go ahead and get started sweeping.”

  Sky started sweeping up the mess as Torres used the ax to chop the coffee table into smaller pieces and set to work on starting the fire. She curled her nose in disgust as she swept up raccoon poop and was thankful Torres had found Pine-Sol in the bathroom. “I think we should mop too.”

  “Definitely,” Torres agreed as he built up the fire. He sat back on his haunches and watched the flames grow. “Now that is a beautiful sight. I grabbed some cans of soup at the gas station and I think we can cook something up real good in this fireplace. How do you feel about that for dinner?”

  “Chicken noodle?”

  “Sure. There was chicken noodle in the cans I grabbed.”