The beating continued for some time until Axel got tired. Finally, he tossed Tommy's body flat against the ground and left him there to bleed and die.
Sarah stormed across the bridge with Carly following in tow. She had an M4 slung over her shoulder and more than enough ammo to take out just about all of them.
A bandit standing near a barrel fire spotted the two of them and held out his hand. "Hold it, lady. What the hell do you want now?"
Sarah strode up to him, grabbed his hand, twisted his wrist the wrong way causing him to spin around in pain, kicked out the back of his knee so he sank to the ground, then she delivered a heavy kick square in the middle of his chest and knocked him flat on his back, continuing to stride into the middle of the camp in the next moment as if she hadn't stopped at all.
She aimed the rifle with her finger on the trigger at the bandits who started to come up to her in the commotion. "Where is he?" she demanded angrily.
The first few bandits timidly raised their hands in defense, but a few others raised their weapons at her, and the rest soon followed suit.
But she didn't care. "Tell me where he is," she said. "I'll kill all of you."
Carly stood by her side, scared and in pain, but she had a rifle too and she pointed it around to their sides and behind and watched their backs.
Axel came out of his tent at last. He had a wide grin on his face when he saw her, and his men came up behind him to back him up, all brandishing their guns at Sarah and Carly.
"Where is he?" she snarled, emphasizing each word.
"Your little shit stain you sent over here?" Axel said. "I thought you had guts, bitch. Instead you sent him over to try and take me out. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you from the beginning."
Sarah aimed right between his eyes and started to squeeze the trigger. "Last chance," she said.
Axel grimaced. "Yeah, we got him. Ain't doin' too good, though. I don't know if he's gonna make it through the night."
"Get him," Sarah demanded. "He's coming with me."
Axel shook his head. "No, no, no... that's not how this works. He's a prisoner now. Get that? He's a POW, and I don't give up POWs."
"Do you want to die?" Sarah asked.
"You kill me, these boys'll plug you so much, you'll think you've been gangbanged," he replied coolly, calling her bluff. "Do it, I don't care."
Sarah and Carly exchanged a look, and they knew they had a losing hand in this negotiation.
"Tell you what," Axel offered, "what about a trade? A little swap, if you will."
Sarah grunted, but didn't say anything. She knew where this was going, and she didn't like it.
"I'll give you the little piece of shit you want... what's left of him, anyway... and in exchange, I get the girl," he said, pointing a dirty finger at Carly.
Carly began to tremble at the suggestion as every bandit's eyes fell on her. Sarah glanced at her and Carly had a terrified look in her eyes, and she shook her head no.
"You don't get her," Sarah replied. "If you give up Tommy, you can have me. I'll let you do whatever you want."
Axel's face twisted up. "I don't want you, you gimpy bitch! Don't need no one-armed freaks. You give me the girl. I wasn't finished with her yet."
"She's not on the table," Sarah said steadfastly. "You either trade Tommy for me, or we all start shooting. Your choice."
Axel was silent for a while, running over all the possible options in his head and any other counteroffers he could think of. The problem was, he wasn't too smart, so his options were limited. "Fine!" he said in a huff. "That girl's damaged goods anyway. And I guess you only need one hand to jerk me off."
"Do we have a deal?" Sarah asked.
"We have a deal," he said. He turned around and waved over to someone.
The bandits standing guard behind Axel cleared to the sides. Another bandit dragged someone through the darkness. At first Sarah didn't believe he was actually carrying a person; it looked more like the shape of the dead animal or something. But when they came into the fringes of the firelight, she could see exactly how bad it was.
All Tommy was wearing was a pair of ratty shoes and his jeans. His naked torso was covered in blood, stab wounds and bruising. His nose was broken and twisted the wrong way, blood covering his face, too. His eyelids rolled up slightly, revealing spaced out eyes beneath. Blood and spit drooled out of his mouth and onto the pavement. The bandit carrying him under the armpits shoved him forward and he collapsed to the ground and smacked his face on the asphalt like a limp doll.
"Help him up," Sarah told Carly and Carly hurried over and strained to lift him off the ground. He was still conscious and breathing, but just barely. He was in desperate need of help, and Carly didn't know if she would be able to bring him all the way back to the farmstead on her own. She didn't even know if Sarah was actually going to let herself be taken or if she had a plan up her sleeve, but the prospect of Sarah opening herself up to certain torture and probably death left Carly terrified. But when she got Tommy up to his feet, Sarah slung her M4 over Tommy's neck then turned and walked to Axel.
Before Axel took her into his tent and she disappeared forever, she turned her head to Carly and said, "Get out of here." And then she was gone.
Carly hurried away from the camp with tears in her eyes and Tommy over her shoulder as fast as possible and disappeared into the night.
Against all odds they made it to the farm. Carly lit some candles and set about taking care of Tommy as best as she could. She laid a tarp over one of the beds and stripped him naked before laying him down on it. He'd been slightly cognizant on the trip over, and he was able to pull his own weight more than she anticipated; it seemed that Axel knew what he was doing and didn't really intend to kill him, stabbing him only in nonvital areas, away from organs and arteries. But his blood loss was significant and his skin was pale. His body became very clammy and he felt cold. He rolled his head around and muttered mostly unintelligible things, but if Carly held his head and opened his eyelids a little, she was able to talk with him. She pulled out a hospital medical kit that she and Sarah brought with them from the church when they left. There were needles and tubing and IV bags, and Carly asked Tommy if he knew what his blood type was. After some inane mutterings, she managed to get out an O-positive from him, and she asked him time and time again if he was sure and he kept repeating the same answer. Whether it was through some blessing or miracle or just dumb luck, Carly shared the same blood type and she siphoned some of hers into a bag, then she found a vein in his arm and slowly pumped the blood into him by hand. She cleaned up his wounds after that as much as she could, still fighting through the pain of her own ordeal at the hands of Axel, and she couldn't get the frightful images out of her mind of what he was doing to Sarah right now. Carly knew that she was strong, stronger than anyone she had ever met, but with Sarah being completely unarmed and surrounded by at least thirty or forty armed men, any kind of hope seemed naïve.
She tried to give Tommy a little food and water, and he took down some water but didn't even let her put the food in his mouth. She watched him for a long time, waiting to see if the blood would take. It wasn't ideal, but the only other option she had was that he was going to die.
But surprisingly he seemed okay and he fell into a deep sleep, his chest rising and falling healthily. She sat in a chair in the corner of the bedroom and let him rest as the candlelight flickered. She stared at the wall, at the window, at the various pieces of furniture in the room, and always back to Tommy. Incessantly so. She wanted to do something, anything, to preoccupy herself, but she was too stressed out. Her breathing was quick and rough, like she had just run a mile. Anxiety crippled her and the minutes or hours (she wasn't sure which) that she spent in that chair slowly ticked away on her mind's clock. A million thoughts ran through her head, and they all revolved around Sarah. Every scenario that she thought of had the same outcome: Sarah's death. She found that she couldn't even comprehend it; she would be completely lost w
ithout her, and now she began to cry at the thought. She spent the rest of the time blubbering in the chair as Tommy slept as comfortably as he could, tucked under the covers.
Sometime later, the front door of the house slammed open into the wall. Carly jumped in the chair and stared at the open bedroom doorway, listening to the sounds of footsteps coming into the house from far away. She turned and grabbed the pistol that she had sitting next to her on a table and got up to her feet. She couldn't understand what was happening, not at all expecting anyone to come in the house, and all of her actions ran off instinct now as her brain was completely taken over by a mindless buzz.
She crept over to the threshold of the bedroom and the hallway, aiming the gun at the floor. It was still dark outside and a host of potential characters filled her mind as being the one who entered the house. The most obvious answer was that it was Sarah, but it seemed too good to be true. All the other options terrified her.
She heard the footsteps walk into the living room, and Carly came out in the hallway and slowly made her way over there. When she reached the corner, she poked her head out and pointed the gun at the figure standing in the living room.
It was Sarah.
"Oh my God," Carly said, "are you all right?"
Sarah turned to her. "I'm fine. How's Tommy?"
Carly could hardly get the words out of her mouth. "But... but... you're covered in blood."
"It's not mine."
Sarah strode past her down the hallway and into the bathroom, retrieving a rag and wiping her face with it. She came back and stopped in the doorway of the bedroom where Tommy was resting and she gazed at him for a long moment. "Is he going to make it?" she asked.
"Uh... I, uh... yeah, I think so," Carly choked out. "So... what happened?"
Sarah walked back into the living room and Carly followed. "Axel's dead," she said.
"And the others?" Carly asked.
"I didn't touch anyone else," Sarah replied. "I need them. They're following me now, and I have a feeling they're going to be more loyal to me than they ever were to Axel. I need to get in touch with Macklin's group tomorrow as well and tell them how it is, then I have to talk to Bill and get everyone coordinated."
She walked around the room like she was in a grand hurry, organizing weapons and looking at supplies and figuring out what needed to be done in what priority. And Carly just stood by at the edge of the room, still stunned.
"How did you get everyone to listen to you?" Carly asked. "Why didn't they just kill you when you killed Axel?" Sarah constantly amazed her with her strength and ingenuity, but this act completely spellbound her.
"I can put the fear of God into any man when I need to," Sarah replied absentmindedly as she checked their ammo.
She turned and started to cross the room, and Carly gasped. "Your neck... what is that?" she asked.
Sarah stopped and looked down. "What, this? Just a souvenir."
Around her neck hung a severed penis strung on a piece of twine.
11
Recruiting
Sarah threw the truck in reverse and started to back up as she leaned against the window and looked at Carly in the side mirror. Carly stood next to the restaurant and waved Sarah in until the back of the trailer was only a few feet away from the overhang on the back of the building. Sarah came to a stop and put the truck in park, then she opened the door and hopped out. She walked along the length of the trailer, listening to the dull groans inside, then she stood beside Carly and inspected the back door of the restaurant.
"How many did you say you saw inside?" Sarah asked.
"Just one. I didn't look around too much, though. It started chasing me, so I buggered out of there."
Sarah looked at her with a smirk. "Buggered out of there?
"Hey, at least I'm not wearing a dick necklace," Carly shot back.
Sarah laughed. "Maybe it was a touch overdramatic, but it had the desired effect."
"I'm just glad you're not wearing it anymore," Carly said, suddenly morose. "I hope you burned it."
Sarah turned her attention back to the restaurant. "Well, let's get this done."
They rummaged around in the refuse piled next to the back door. Most of it had deteriorated over the course of the last nine years, but there were still some items to be picked through. Sarah found a plank of wood next to some moldy cardboard that looked all but fused to the asphalt.
"Perfect," Sarah commented as she picked up the long plank. She got Carly to help her position it against the rear of the trailer, carefully pointing the bottom end toward the back door of the restaurant. "Ready to do this?"
"Like a kid opening presents," Carly said.
"You're really bad at this today," Sarah teased.
"Hey, it's still early morning, all right? Piss off."
Sarah nudged her and Carly nudged Sarah back, both of them exchanging playful smiles.
"Okay, get up there," Sarah said.
"On my way."
Carly took off for the tractor and Sarah walked up the ramp, making sure it was sturdy enough to hold a person's weight, then she proceeded up to the closed door of the trailer and yanked it open. It slid up and revealed a metal barrier they'd installed in the opening of the trailer. Normal zombies filled up about two thirds of the interior, and as soon as they saw Sarah they became agitated and shoved past each other trying to get to her. The zombies in front were sandwiched against the metal bars, and if they had been more human they probably would have been crushed to death. But instead they stuck their arms through the bars where they could and swiped at her in futility. Sarah inspected the cage for a moment and was once again impressed at how well it held.
She hopped down and went to the back door of the building. She grabbed the handle and turned it, but the door was locked. She looked up at Carly who was lying on her stomach on top of the trailer, looking down at her over the edge. "I thought you said the door was open?"
"No, I went in the front, dummy," Carly said.
"Why didn't we set the truck up in the front, then?"
"There wasn't enough room. We have to do it in the rear." Carly paused then chuckled like a high school kid. "You're a big girl, I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said with a big shit-eating grin as she rested her chin on her arms.
Sarah sighed. "Here goes nothing," she said glumly. She stepped back from the door and glanced again at the zombies reaching out of the bars for her. She took a deep breath and looked back at the white door in front of her, visualizing the empty restaurant beyond it and the scratcher lurking somewhere in its shadows. When she was mentally prepared, she thrust her leg forward and kicked in the door next to the handle.
Shards of wood exploded inward as the frame broke and the door slammed into a wall, letting the sunshine of the morning fill in the narrow space of the hallway behind the kitchen.
Sarah turned and ran just as soon as she got her footing, heading for the cab of the tractor. She climbed up and then braced her foot against the open window like Carly had, lifting herself on top and then climbing over to the trailer. When she got to Carly, she patted her on the back then lay down next to her. "That good enough for you?"
"Well, you didn't get mauled, so that's a plus," she replied.
The two of them watched from over the edge of the trailer, waiting for the scratcher to run outside. Ten seconds went by, then thirty, then a minute.
"You did see one, didn't you?" Sarah asked.
"It's in there, I swear."
They waited for a number of minutes as the groans of the zombies in the trailer died down, but still the door stood open, producing nothing but shadows beyond.
"Maybe you should go down there," Sarah teased. "I already did my part."
"Not a chance, lady!" Carly said. "I was already inside with that thing! Don't you have any treats or something to lure it out?"
"Carly, it's not a cat."
"Well, whatever... just do something!"
"All right." Sarah got up and walked a
long the roof of the trailer back to the cab. She could hear the zombies' groaning pause inside, almost as if they were looking up and trying to figure out what the sound they heard was. She climbed back into the cab and jammed on the horn a few times.
The zombies in the trailer worked themselves up into a frenzy, bouncing around the interior of the trailer like a crashing wave. Sarah pulled herself back up onto the trailer and lay next to Carly as they trained their eyes on the door again and hoped for a better result.
They began to think it still wasn't coming, but then they suddenly heard quick footsteps from inside. The scratcher flew into the doorway, pausing and looking around.
Sarah had to keep herself from laughing when she saw it. "That's the scratcher you saw?"
It was a man—or used to be—with a thick and messy mustache, dressed in a ragged red suit, fake gold chains around his neck, a pair of broken glasses on a string hanging over top of them, and grimy Reebok sneakers on his feet. And to top it all off, he couldn't have been any taller than four and a half feet.
"Well, it is a scratcher," Carly muttered.
The scratcher spotted the zombies in the trailer and took off for them. It had just as much ferocity as any other scratcher, and watching that much energy all wrapped up in such a small package was hilarious.
It ran up the ramp and threw itself at the door in the metal barrier. Sarah and Carly had designed it so that it couldn't be pushed open from the zombies inside, but the latch could be broken and the door pushed inward without much force from the outside. The door burst open and made the first set of zombies stumble deeper into the trailer. The scratcher set in right away, biting their flesh anywhere it could get a mouthful, and when it was fully inside, Sarah leaned over the edge and shoved the back door of the trailer downward. It slid down and slammed against the bottom, closing the scratcher in with all the normal zombies, though it didn't even seem to notice as it contentedly continued its feast.
Sarah and Carly hurried off the trailer and made their way back to the ground, scurrying to the back and securing the lock on the door. Muffled groans and grunts poured out of the trailer in addition to furious smacking, ripping and chewing sounds.
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