by D. J. Molles
The other pressing issue was where the hell Angela and Abby had gotten to. If Angela viewed Lee and Jack as having less than her best interest in mind, she might have seen that as an opportunity to escape. He supposed Jack slapping her hadn’t helped if that was the case, however, she had seemed comfortable with Lee prior to that. And best interest or not, they were without any food or water and had no place to go.
“Hey,” Jack whispered.
Lee stopped and looked at him. The Marine was standing stock still, slightly hunched, rifle up, and scanning. Lee waited for a moment.
“What?” he whispered back.
Jack turned and looked at him. “I didn’t say anything.”
They both reacted the same, turning outwards and going to their knees, scanning the dark woods for a threat.
Then a familiar voice said, “Guys, it’s me.”
Lee felt relieved. “Angela?”
“Yeah.” The blonde woman stepped out from behind a large tree and waved. She was still holding the shotgun from Jack’s house. Abby peered cautiously around the tree, as though she thought her mother might be mistaken.
“Jesus Christ, woman.” Jack grumbled. Angela gave Jack a what’s-your-problem look. Lee let his rifle rest on his sling and walked over to her.
“You and Abby alright?” The woman looked down at her daughter. “Yeah. We’re fine.”
Abby stepped out and presented her arm with a somber look on her face. “I got scratched, but I’m okay.”
“We ran through a briar patch,” Angela clarified.
Lee couldn’t help but smile at the girl. He knelt down and took her arm gently. “Let me see how bad it is.” He couldn’t really see the scratches in the dark, but he pretended to give them a solid looking-over. “Those are some pretty good scratches Abby. You’re a pretty tough girl. But I think you’re gonna be okay. I think we’ll clean them up and they’ll be just fine.”
Abby nodded, still very serious about her wounds.
Jack bent down so that he was closer to Lee and spoke in a low voice. “We should go ahead and make camp.”
Lee looked at him like he was crazy. “Right here?”
Jack was already unslinging his rifle. “Yeah. Those boys won’t be tracking us in the dark. They know what’s up. And us moving around at night is a very, very bad idea.”
Lee just stared. He didn’t want to contradict the man, as he felt he was speaking from experience, but Lee did not want to stop. He wanted to get home to his bunker where he could batten down the hatches and sleep in relative safety. And he was worried about Sam and Tango. Sam would probably be scared shitless right now, thinking that Lee was dead. He’d told the kid he would be back in a few hours. Lee was way overdue.
Jack realized Lee wasn’t thrilled with the idea of stopping and knelt down. He motioned for Angela and Abby to join him. “I don’t know how much movin’ around you folks done, but I got here cross country from Lejeune, tryin’ to link up with my dad. These people—the infected ones—they go nuts at night. They just run around in packs and I don’t know what it is, but they can hear as well as any animal. You move around at night, you’ll have those fuckers all over you in a heartbeat.” He looked at Lee. “Now I can see you seem like a shit-hot hard charger, but I only got a few rounds left for my rifle and didn’t have time to grab none of my other gear. And I’ve seen these infected in groups as large as fifty. You ain’t takin’ ‘em down all by yourself.”
Fifty... Lee thought. That was much larger than Sam had seen. The eyewitness accounts of these groups seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Was it the tale getting bigger, or were the infected herding together out of instinct, the separate groups absorbing into one another as they met, creating larger and larger hordes?
“I have this gun...” Angela offered.
“Ma’am, no offense, but you don’t know the first thing about that gun.”
Angela looked indignant. “I can pull the trigger.”
“What type of gun is it?” Jack smiled.
Angela looked at it. “A...rifle?”
“No. It’s a shotgun. How many rounds does it hold?”
“Ten.”
“Five. You know how fast you go through five rounds? You have extra ammunition I don’t know about? Do you even know how to reload it? Listen, sweet-heart, I’m not tryin’ to be mean here, but this isn’t the time for politically correct, women’s rights bullshit. I’ll be happy to show you how to use that weapon when I have time, but right now you need to admit that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”
Angela glared at him. “I’m not trying to be a feminine Nazi. I’m just trying to help. And don’t call me sweet-heart...asshole.”
Jack just grinned. Lee decided to settle the matter before it got more heated. “Fine. We camp here.”
“Can we make a fire?” Abby asked.
“No, sweetie.” Jack got down on his knees. “And we have to be real, real quiet, okay? We don’t want anyone to hear us.”
“Okay...” Abby’s voice was an exaggerated whisper.
Lee took his backpack off and opened it. He had enough water left to give everyone a bottle and inform them they needed to make it last until tomorrow when they reached his bunker. He gave the girls the MRE’s he’d already opened for them earlier in the day. He’d only packed two MRE’s, so he gave Jack a Powerbar and took one for himself. Jack thanked him and offered to take first watch. They would switch at 0200 hours.
They all made quick work of their food, eating hungrily in silence. When they were finished, the girls huddled together against a tree, and Jack crept away with his rifle to find a good perch from which to watch the camp. Lee felt strange about having the man he barely knew watching over them while they slept, but options were limited.
From his pack he pulled out his poncho liner and offered it to Angela. She looked at the folded square, unsure of what it was. “It’s a poncho liner,” he explained. “But it makes a pretty good blanket if you get cold during the night.”
She accepted it with a smile and spread it over her and her daughter.
Lee settled back, using his go-to-hell pack as a pillow. He crossed his legs and hugged his M4 to his chest. This was his favored position for falling asleep in the field. He’d learned it after many nights in the shallow holes they called “Ranger graves.” It was the same position he might lay in if he was laying in a hammock, enjoying a warm summer evening, and perhaps that was what made it so comforting to him.
He was surprisingly tired and found himself drifting off after only a few moments. Just as he was about to fall asleep, a single thought made his stomach sink, and kept him awake for a few more minutes. He thought that he might never again be able to sit in a hammock and enjoy a cold beer.
***
Lee woke up to realize something had just hit him in the face. He opened his eyes and saw that it was still dark. Whatever had hit him was small, possibly an acorn dropping from the tree they were under. He looked up at the forest canopy above him. The moon was very bright and cast the leaves of the trees with a silver lining. The night, though much cooler than the day, was still quite humid, and Lee felt his entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and his clothes were sticking to him.
He thought again about Sam and Tango. He was sure the kid was worried. He had witnessed his father murdered, and then the guy that saved him runs off and doesn’t come back. Lee had no way of contacting him and letting him know they were okay—relatively —and on the way back. He could see the kid’s imagination getting the best of him. He just hoped Sam didn’t do anything stupid.
Off to his left he heard a soft breeze working its way through the forest as he closed his eyes again and waited for the breeze to flow over him and hopefully dry up some of his sweat.
Something hit him again.
This time, Lee could have sworn it was more forceful than just something dropping from a tree. He leaned up onto his elbows and looked around, just as another object bounced off hi
s chest. Lee was about to stand up and ask what the fuck was going on, but then focused and saw Jack staring at him in the moonlight. The guy’s skeletal features looked creepy in the moonlight, his eyes were just sunken, glittering shadows and his cheekbones stood out like he was grinning at Lee.
What the hell was he doing?
Then Lee realized that Jack had a finger in front of his lips, signifying the need for silence. Lee also simultaneously realized that nothing in the forest was stirring from the breeze, and that the “breeze” was not a breeze at all, but the sound of several people moving stealthily through the woods.
Lee clicked the safety off his M4 and pulled it snug into his shoulder. Then he slowly turned and looked at Angela and Abby. They were both still asleep, but he didn’t want them to wake up and make noise. Angela had scooted down and was lying more on her back than leaning against the tree now, and her foot was only inches from Lee’s. He sidled very carefully and quietly until his boot touched her shoe and gave it a good nudge.
She woke instantly and stared straight at him with wide eyes. She was about to open her mouth to speak when he brought his finger to his lips, then motioned with his eyes out to where the sound of movement was coming from.
Both of them looked out into the darkness.
In the sterling moonlight, the shapes were hard to make out among all the trees, but Lee could see the movement, distinctly human, and distinctly predatory. They were moving in a pack of seven or eight, maybe 50 yards from the camp and parallel to where Lee imagined the road was. None were armed, and Lee knew without thinking about it that these were not the people they’d gotten into a firefight with.
These were all infected.
His reaction to them was twofold. Physically he felt the adrenaline pumping hard through his veins. There was nothing he hated more than hiding and waiting. His mouth was dry, his tense muscles were beginning to quiver, and he felt like he was about to piss his pants. Mentally, he was detachedly surprised at how quietly they moved through the woods, and how they obviously moved as one unit. It confirmed what Sam had told him about them banding together like dogs. In addition to that, their stealth could only mean one thing: they were hunting for prey. Lee wondered if this was something that would eventually go away as the FURY bacterium ate through its victim’s brain, or whether the plague only did so much damage, turning people into ghouls and then leaving them that way.
Lee glanced over at Angela. Abby was still asleep in her arms, but the woman had her hand clamped over her own mouth and her eyes were squeezed shut as though she was trying not to scream or to cry. She opened her eyes momentarily and Lee watched tears spill out, leaving glistening streaks on her face. He didn’t know what he could do to comfort her. Speaking was out of the question. He put his hand out and motioned very slowly with a “be calm” gesture.
He mouthed the words, “It’s okay.”
She closed her eyes again. I can’t see them, they can’t see me. Childhood fears come to life, making you want to hide under the blanket and wish to wake up.
Lee looked back at Jack. The man was sitting against a fallen stump, just his head peeking over. He was looking out at the moving figures, his rifle tucked neatly into his shoulder, but somewhat relaxed across his chest. Actually, Jack himself looked fairly relaxed. His face appeared unimpressed by what he was seeing.
Lee wondered about the man and his mental stability. He appreciated having another military man, especially one as cool-headed as Jack appeared to be. But the devil-may-care attitude made Lee concerned that he might be a little off his rocker. Or he might just have brass balls. Only time would tell.
It was several minutes before the pack of infected had passed by into the darkness and could no longer be heard. It was several minutes after that before anyone moved an inch. Finally, Jack looked back towards the group and arched his eyebrows, though he was still unwilling to speak. He got up very slowly and quietly and made his way over to Lee.
“Guess what?” he whispered.
Lee looked at him. “It’s 0200?”
Jack just grinned.
Lee rolled out of his warm spot on the ground and took a moment to work out a few kinks. Angela watched the two men with tears in her eyes, but still said nothing. Jack took off his plaid shirt, under which he wore a gray t-shirt. He balled the plaid shirt up and stuck it under his head. He rolled onto his side, hugging his rifle like Lee had hugged his.
Before standing, Lee gave Angela a reassuring pat on the leg and his best confident smile. “Relax and try to get some sleep. Twelve hours from now, we’ll be back at my bunker and you can clean up and sleep in a real bed.”
She smiled bravely and Lee stood and walked to his post.
He hoped those words were true and that nothing unfortunate would befall them before they managed to get back home.
By the time he settled into position at the stump, he could already hear Jack breathing steadily, asleep.
CHAPTER 11: COMPANY
The day was going to be a scorcher.
By 0530 hours it was already humid, and by the time everyone was awake and moving, it was getting uncomfortably warm. Lee had no more food left in his go-to-hell pack, but Abby was the only one that complained of being hungry. Lee was sure that Angela and Jack were hungry as well, but they knew he didn’t have any food left and that, hopefully, they would be at his bunker in several hours. Lee himself was hungry, but he’d experienced worse hunger in the past.
The group drank what water they had left and broke camp. Angela and Abby simply stood up and brushed the leaves off of themselves. Angela folded the poncho liner neatly and handed it back to Lee with a smile and a “thank you.” Lee stuffed it away, then shouldered his pack and slung into his rifle.
They stood around in silence, looking out into the woods. The morning birds were all singing loudly, but the hum of insects hadn’t quite begun. The woods weren’t what you would call foggy, but there was a definite haze as the heat began to boil the water out of the moist forest floor.
“Everyone ready?” Lee asked. He received three silent nods. “Jack, take point?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll catch up in a second.”
Jack ported his rifle and led the two girls out of the small camp site.
More out of habit than any need to do so, Lee grabbed a branch and gave the campsite a good sweeping to fluff the matted leaves and dirt and disguise that they had slept there. He was more concerned with the threat of infected than he was with anyone attempting to track them. But the party from yesterday was still something he had to think about.
When the site was sufficiently “cleaned,” Lee tossed the branch into the woods and headed out after the group. When he caught up with them he walked next to Angela for a moment.
“How are you guys feeling?”
She gave him a grim smile. “Hungry, thirsty, tired...everything hurts...but I’m glad to be off the roof.” The look of her smile changed to one of sincere appreciation. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been very kind.”
Lee waved it off. He looked at Abby and wanted to ask Angela how her daughter was handling the death of her father, but he wasn’t sure either of them was ready to talk about it. Though she obviously was no commando, she’d been through the ringer and held up quite well. Lee could appreciate the amount of self-control and understanding it must take for her to be able to trust the man that shot her husband, even if her husband had been out of his mind when it happened. He wondered briefly if there were other circumstances unbeknownst to him that made the death of their husband and father less emotionally devastating. Perhaps the marriage had been in trouble.
Or maybe Angela was simply as tough as she appeared to be.
He supposed that if she decided to stick around, she would be ready to talk about these things on her own time. And Lee had weightier matters to focus his attention on than Angela’s former home life.
He took a few long strides and walked next to Jack.
�
�Captain Harden,” Jack said with a shit-eating grin. “And how’s life treating you this fine morning?”
Lee regarded the older man with a blank look. It struck him that Jack might take a while to figure out, but Lee’s immediate take on him was that he was the type of guy that loved being a Marine, loved being in danger, and loved most of all, a reason to carry a high-powered rifle. None of which were bad things at all, especially given the circumstances they found themselves in. People like that might be border-line sociopaths, but they did very well for themselves in crisis situations because they thought independently and functioned well in situations where others would assume the fetal position.
“I’m doing okay,” Lee eventually answered. “I’m not positive how far out we are, but if we keep parallel to the road and head east, I think we should make it by early afternoon.”
“Which side of the road is your place on?”
“The other side.”
“We’ll need to cross.”
“Yeah...” Lee trailed off. “So, Jack, what was your MOS in the Marines?”
“Scout sniper. Just like my pops.” Jack’s eyes scanned the woods as he walked. “Planned on bein’ a lifer, but God and the hadjis had different plans.”
Lee decided he’d bite. “How’s that?”
Jack removed his dirty old baseball cap for the first time and turned so Lee could see the left side of his head. There was a thick scar that ran from his temple all the way back to his crown, then curved down towards his ear.
“Ouch,” was all Lee could think of.
Jack replaced his ball cap. “Just got done with one of the most dangerous missions I ever been on. Drivin’ in a Humvee from the rally point back to base, and an IED goes off right underneath us. Well,” Jack grimaced. “Right underneath the driver, anyway. They didn’t find much of him. I was in a coma for two weeks. Had brain damage. They did surgery and now I can’t see too well out my left eye. They said they don’t know whether it was the brain surgery or the trauma that caused me to lose my vision, but in either case, I got my papers about a week after they found out I couldn’t see no more. ‘Thanks for everything, and all, but we can’t use you anymore.’” Jack turned and smiled. “Guess I’m just lucky.”