Day One (Book 3): Alone

by Michael McDonald

Morris ignored my words and spoke. “He’s been bitten. That’s why he doesn’t want to show us.”

  Rachel once again began to move her hand toward her weapon, yet this time I brought the barrel toward her and through anger filled eyes I shook my head slowly. “I kept you alive when I could have shot you down, just like I did to those other assholes. I didn’t ask you to follow me, nor do I need your help, but I swear as the sun rises every morning that if you even so much as look at that pistol of yours again, it’ll be your last mistake.”

  “He’s going to turn into one of those running things!” Morris said unexpectedly. “That’s why he wants us around, that way when he turns he doesn’t have to search for a meal, he’ll have the both of us to choose from.”

  I shoved the barrel toward his left hand and pulled the trigger. The slap of metal against metal cried out, sending a hunk of lead right through his hand. He screamed in pain, but I was able to shove the rag back into his mouth and kill the sound from traveling any further than it already had. He rocked back and forth as the pain cascaded through his body, trying to shake his restraints lose.

  Rachel stopped her hand.

  “Have either of you seen anyone turn with your own eyes?” I asked them both.

  Rachel nodded her head slowly, fearing that if she made to quick of a movement I would shoot her like I had just done to Morris.

  “How long did it take for them to turn?” I asked her.

  “I don’t really know, I didn’t time it or anything,” she replied.

  “Days or hours?” I asked her, seeing the confusion multiply.

  “What?” She asked me lightly.

  “You said you didn’t time it, correct?” I asked deeper.

  She nodded.

  I cleared my throat and spoke as clearly as I could to her. “Did it take them a few hours to turn or days? Certainly you’d be able to at least know that much, right?”

  “A few hours I guess… I mean it all happened in the same day, if that’s what you’re asking me,” she stated.

  “And you’re absolutely sure of that?”

  She nodded her head once again. “Of course I am. I was there when it happened.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was making a good enough point to her or if I was just babbling on and on like an insane person would do.

  “They were attacked about noon time and before the sun went down they had turned,” she told me.

  “I was bitten well over nine days ago by my step-daughter in our home,” I told her. “When you are bit or killed by those things it only takes hours to turn, not days, so it would be logical to think that if I’ve made it this long and I’m still very much alive, rational and in full control, then it would be safe to say I am of no threat to anyone in this room. Right?”

  Rachel’s look was that of one who was not convinced by my explanation. I could see it in her eyes as easily as I could see the lost stare in the eyes of the undead, there was no denying that.

  “And when exactly were you going to tell us?” She asked.

  “I wasn’t… it’s none of your business. I’m not a threat to anyone, nor have I done anything that you should be concerned or alarmed about,” I said in a defensive tone. “And both of you know that.”

  “I had a right to know!” She shot back.

  “A right to know?” My anger was cresting. “An hour or so ago you were ready to shoot me and you probably would have succeeded had you been a bit quieter, but now I’m the bad guy! I just wanted my son and this asshole attacked me, and then tried to turn shit around and make me believe that I was the one coming into his house and starting shit! Really?”

  “You lead us here and then tell us this important news!” Rachel said. “What were you expecting us to do, jump up and down and praise you for not attacking us and turning us as well?”

  “I never asked you to join me, lady! In fact, I was doing just fine on my own until you decided to get away from this asshole and chose me as your new mistake!” My voice was booming even louder now. “You don’t like what you’ve heard, there’s the door, don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out!”

  Her look of anger changed to one of betrayal and she started to storm out of the room.

  “Leave your gun,” I told her.

  She stopped and looked at me. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me!” My eyes were wild and ready for a fight to break out. She yanked the Glock from her holster and dropped it onto the narrow ledge that stood beside the stairs to the second floor, and then she climbed out of my sight. I kicked the coffee table over and moved to the window, pulling the curtains open just slightly to see outside. I mumbled under my breath and was no more paying attention to what was on the other side of the window than Rachel was.

  I could hear Morris making an awful racket, yet something about his manner didn’t strike me as a normal gunshot wound sounds – not that I really knew every aspect of what a gunshot victim goes through, mind you – yet it still bothered me and I turned to see him looking toward me with nothing but horror in his eyes. That look had not been there when I shot him, so why was it there now?

  “What?” I asked him as I crossed the floor to the recliner angrily. I yanked the rag from his mouth and he was still eyeing where I had been standing, not where I was currently. I glanced over my shoulder at the window and saw nothing. “What is it?”

  “Something’s out there,” he said silently.

  “There’s no one out there,” I stated and glanced once more to see a faint shadow disappear from the window toward the door. I jerked the rifle up to a ready position. Whoever was out there headed toward the door and as soon as they burst through it, I would blow holes in them and send’em right back out into the rain. There arose a rattle of a door handle, but it wasn’t coming from the one directly in front of me, it was coming from somewhere else in the house.

  “Shit, they found us… Jesus Christ, they found us,” Morris said in a shaky voice.

  “Be quiet,” I said in a whisper to him and moved toward the kitchen, which was off of the living room where we were. At the entrance to the kitchen I could see through to the back door and the shaking door knob. It stopped before I got two steps into the kitchen. To my right was a dual sink and two large windows above where I could see the next house fifteen or twenty feet away. The front door knob began to jiggle and I turned toward it, knowing full well that no one could have started at the front door, ran to the back and rattled the handle, and then returned to the front door in just seconds.

  We were dealing with more of the runners. There had to have been more than I thought.

  “We need to get out of here,” Morris said as I backed into the living room.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I replied and produced a knife to cut his bindings. I looked hard at him and spoke just as hard, but in a whisper. “You aren’t going to try anything stupid if I free you, right?”

  “No,” he said to me, but I hesitated slicing through the duct tape and freeing him.

  “What are you doing?” He asked. “Hurry up before those things get in here.”

  “You know there’s nowhere to run to now, so you either stand and fight with us or you die alone… I don’t have to remind you what’s out there, do I?” I said calmly.

  “I get what you’re saying,” Morris replied quickly. “And no, I don’t need a refresher course on what’s out there and will soon be in here with us if you don’t get your shit together and free me!” His words rose just slightly, although didn’t carry very far.

  “Good,” I said and sliced the duct tape.

  He instantly grabbed his wounded hand and pulled it close to his chest, cradling it in an area where it would remain safe and untouched.

  “Which way?” He asked, slowly rising from the recliner.

  I pointed toward the back door. “Watch that door,” I said and moved toward the front door, rifle at the ready, finger on the trigger, safety off. I wasn’t about to allow whoever was on the opposite side of the d
oor even the slightest chance at getting inside. If just one managed to gain entry, then other could as well and we would be more than busy handling the current problem to even see the new threats arriving.

  The constant rain hitting the roof and the metal eve of the front porch drown out any other sounds, so I had to rely solely upon my sight and any tell-tale signs such as further shadows or the turning off a door knob. Standing there ready to fight in order to stay alive though, there was nothing more, like whoever was doing all of this was toying with me. Trying to wear me down hoping I’d make a mistake that could be exploited and used against me. For them, their hopes and games weren’t going to play out as they wanted… I’d see personally to that.

  “Rachel’s upstairs,” Morris said, still focused on the back door because he knew that with his hand injured, if anyone of those things got inside he wouldn’t stand much of a chance against them.

  I looked toward the ceiling and realized that she had gotten angry with me and stormed out. I had made her leave her pistol with me, which meant if whoever was outside tried to ascend to the second floor and gain entry, she’d be defenseless against them. I turned and looked at Morris; he caught my stare and returned it.

  “It’s obvious that you and I will never see eye to eye about anything,” I said to him. He cupped his wounded hand closer to his chest. “But right now, if we don’t work together, then it’s pretty safe to say we’ll all be dead in the next few minutes, wouldn’t you agree?”

  He nodded his head to my question.

  “When we get out of here, we’ll have all the time in the world to kill each other. Until then, I need to know that you are going to do whatever you have to do to keep those things out there, and if shit hit’s the fan you’ll watch my back while I watch yours,” I added.

  He stared blankly at me, as if completely unhappy with postponing anything to do with ending my life. The sheer level of his arrogant pride was visible and I could see that being a major problem if I needed him, and I did currently need him.

  “You’re either a resolve to the overall problem… or you are the problem,” I stated. “I need to know which of those two you are, and I need to know right now.” I witnessed the child-like look in his eyes, as he considered lying to me in hopes I’d drop my guard.

  He looked at the two windows above the sink and thought about what I had asked him, and then abruptly looked at me. “When this is over with, you and I have unfinished business to attend too,” he said in a firm tone. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, but both of us dying in this house today doesn’t sit very well with me, no matter how you look at it. You need help; I’ll back you up, but don’t think that changes anything. We are far from friends!”

  “My sentiments exactly,” I said and tossed him Rachel’s pistol.

  He caught it with his good hand and I could see the contemplation in his eyes as he thought about shooting me and trying his best to get out of the house untouched. He was smarter than that though, and if the house was surrounded by the undead or even a few of the runners, his actions became that of suicide. And as arrogant and self-centered as Morris was, I was certain he’d stick to his word… to stay alive.

  Morris nodded and headed toward the back door, taking up a position at the kitchen door for cover and waited to see how things were about to unfold.

  I made my way up the stairs, not calling to Rachel out of fear that at least one of those things had gotten in and she was hiding from its searching eyes. My voice would surely build a level of false confidence in her and if she ventured out to soon, she’d be the next victim. I had to use the element of surprise and remain as quiet as the dead… the real dead that is.

  At the top of the stairs, a hallway turned left and ran the length of the house. I was able to see the two doors on the left and three on the right, which made an ambush by those that possibly could be in the house that much harder. I took only a few steps forward and pounding thunder concealed any sounds I might have made along the way.

  Rachel stepped out of a room ten feet away and I stopped instantly, although I was able to tell she was alive and unharmed in those fleeting swift seconds. She turned to see me not far from her and I recognized the glare returning to her face.

  “I came up here to get away from you…” I cut her off by pressing a finger to my lips and also shaking my head. She sensed something was off and instead of arguing with me, she grew silent and I motioned for her to come to me. The glare melted away, replaced by an all too familiar look of fear. “Are we in danger again?” She whispered to me.

  I nodded.

  She and I made our way down the stairs; I was in the lead in case someone came through the front door before we reached the first floor. If that happened, I could easily get several shots off and neutralize the threat before it even got started.

  “Where’s Morris,” she asked.

  I pointed toward the kitchen. “Guarding the back door.”

  “And my gun?” She added.

  The words filtered through my head and I felt like an idiot for giving him the pistol, yet it’s not like I had a series of options at my disposal at the time and could take as long as I need to go through each one, deciphering the good from the bad. I did what I thought was right at that very moment. “I gave it to him to watch the back door.”

  “You did what?” Her voice held an undertone of disbelief.

  I looked at her sternly. “I didn’t have a lot of options or time, Rachel.”

  She ran a hand over her tired face. “Okay. What’s done is done and there’s no need to argue about it. Let’s just find a way out of here, that doesn’t get us all killed, and we’ll worry about my weapon later.” She stepped in front of me to glance in the direction of the kitchen.

  Three consecutive gunshots quickly rang out.

  “Shit!” I stated and pushed Rachel out of the way, heading toward the kitchen. “Watch that door!” I instructed her in a full yell. There was no need in being quiet anymore. They knew we were in the house now.

  In the kitchen I found Morris pushing his entire body against the back door. The Glock lay a few feet away from me jammed and the second he saw me he cried out. “Help me, god dammit!”

  I scooped up the pistol and rushed to him, throwing my full body against the door just enough to get it shut. “Lock it!” I yelled and he reached around and twisted the locking mechanism. Whoever was on the opposite side, pounded with sheer desire to gain entry.

  “The lock isn’t holding!” Morris announced. “We really need to get the fuck out of here!”

  “The moment we let go of this door, they’ll be all over us,” I countered. “Besides, they’re at the front door as well, so in case you can miraculously fly, we aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Then what are we going to do, just sit here for an eternity holding this damn door shut?” He asked in an angered tone.

  I looked at him, pulling his eyes to mine. “When I tell you too. Take off running toward the living room. Don’t stop, don’t look back, just get your ass in there with Rachel.”

  “What are we going to do in there?” He asked mortified.

  I was expecting him to ask why I had told him not to look back, or perhaps he would have had a shred of curiosity at what I was going to do, but no. Once again Morris’ true colors streamed into the rainy sky, tainting everything it touched. He was no more concerned about what happened to me or one of his own. All he cared about was saving his own ass. I had the urge that very moment to shoot him in the leg and run away. Whatever was on the other side of the door would break through and finish him off horribly while Rachel and I left.

  “Just get your ass into the living room when I tell you too!” I demanded.

  Before I could even start the count, Rachel screamed from the living room. “Dammit!” I said and pounded on the door. “Go and help her keep that door shut!”

  There was no insubordination from Morris. He tucked his tail between his legs and ran like the coward I had made
myself out to be. I really considered looking into that feeling once I was safe far away from this place, although with the way things were going, I might want to look into it now while I’m still had the opportunity.

  I heard Morris reach her and could hear them talking to each other about what to do and how to keep the door shut, yet a good portion of the conversation was blacked out by the brutal pounding on the door behind me.

  What do we do? What do we do? My mind raced, and for once I didn’t have an answer. I knew what not to do, and that was letting my weight ease off the door. It had to remain closed for as long as possible while I tried to figure things out, however, I had a feeling that nothing would come to me and I would be forced to make shit up as I went. That had worked several times in the past. Luck doesn’t last forever… eventually it runs out! My mind reminded me, as if I needed to be told of the consequences I was facing. “Think dammit… how do I get out of this situation?” I asked aloud.

  The pounding on the door stopped, yet I wasn’t that fool who was going to be lead into opening the door, thinking that whoever was pounding on it had given up and gone away. I might have been dumb, but I sure as hell wasn’t stupid. At least I hoped I wasn’t. Then again, look where I was at the moment, as that didn’t cry brilliance in any language.

  I did ease off the door a few inches just to try and see what happened. No one busted through the door, took me to the floor and killed me. The door remained perfectly intact, and with that I took the few moments to unjam Rachel’s pistol, waiting for the eventual return of the one who wanted inside. I got the stuck casing out and was able to reload the weapon, allowing the one point sling I had to take the weight of my short rifle. I had bullets for her .9mm; however, the mags for my pistol would not fit into her pistol, so I would have to reload a single mag over and over as the weapon went dry. Not the best or suitable task to perform when you’re under pressure and being hunted.

  “I really hope she has more mags for this thing?” I said aloud.

  The sound of the falling rain had returned and the banging on the door was now dead. More and more I eased my weight off of the door until I was standing a few feet away, watching the brass knob with unblinking eyes. At some point or another I would either have to reapply my weight to the door for safety measures or simply back away and carry on looking for another way out. I really wanted to know how Morris and Rachel were doing in the living room, yet to do that would require I shouted in order for them to hear me. And if whatever had been banging on the door was still close by, it would definitely hear me and come charging back once again. That wasn’t what I wanted.