Breach (The Blood Bargain)

by Reeves, Macaela

  A small crowd had gathered around the house. An older man I had seen around town was holding a bloodied shovel near the door. We didn’t cross paths much, he tended to work, church and little else if memory served.

  “Are you alright?” A woman asked me, helping me to my feet. Dark hair, oval face. Beth. It was Beth, mother of Jake from my class.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I looked around at all the worried faces that were collecting around the perimeter. Everyone clutching loved ones, baseball bats or some version of both. Who could blame them? We hadn’t had an outbreak inside the wall in...well since the wall went up.

  “How many people lived in this house?” I asked no one specifically. I figured the more authoritative I acted, the calmer the crowd would remain.

  “Five.” The guy with the shovel answered.

  “We’ve got three here.” I muttered a curse staring at the open doorway. Odds were there were two more shambling around inside ready to wreak havoc. That was if they hadn’t ambled out the back and were causing problems elsewhere.

  “Come with me?” I asked the one who had answered me. He had sweat on his brow despite the slight spring chill. He responded with a quick nod.

  “Rest of you keep your guard up, get those kids inside!” I barked at the doe eyed crowd.

  “Clyde went after the wall guards.” Beth’s even voice chimed in.

  “Good.” Not waiting though. I thought to myself.

  “Let’s go in.” I pegged my shovel savoir with a hard glare, trying to put the seriousness of the situation in one look. “Watch my back okay?”

  “Yeah.” He replied, tightening his grip on the shovel’s hilt.

  Cautiously I approached the entrance of the rust colored brick bungalow. The doorway appeared to open up into a living room, pale green walls and carpet lurked just inside of the white painted door. Nothing appeared to be moving from within, no sound carried in the halls.

  Stepping forward I kept my knife up in a strike ready position, up over the lip of the doorway I paused in the entryway checking the layout.

  Directly forward appeared to be a dining room, I could make out the edges of the kitchen cabinetry in the doorway as well. The room I was in was a living room. A tussle appeared to have happened in this room, a lamp was knocked over by the couch, there was blood smeared on the walls at the far end that opened into a dark hallway. Droplets from that location to about the middle of the living room where the carpet was stained brown in a large circle. I had a feeling at least one person had died there, little bits of flesh seemed to be ground into the carpet. Going off instinct I figured whatever had gone down probably occurred in the bedroom area and worked its way out here, as I didn’t immediately see any movement in either direction I figured a quick dining/kitchen sweep then down the dark hallway to the scene of the crime so to speak.

  A wooden rattling behind me interrupted my focus.

  My shovel wielding backup was shaking in his boots behind me, his eyes wide as he looked past me into the carnage that had impacted his neighbors. I knew from the look on his face he was not going to be much use to me.

  The guy was in shock.

  “Stay by the door okay? Don’t let anything out.” I asked him gently. When he nodded I turned away from him.

  Walking forward steadily I kept my ears open as I crossed through the opening into the dining area. Empty. The attached L shaped kitchen was the same. Utterly undisturbed. Friendly bleached cabinets over clutter free granite counters lined with carefully labeled mason jars of food surrounded by a colorful yellow and blue tiled backsplash gave no indication that anything in this house had ever been out of order, ever.

  Backing up into the living room, I eyed the dark hall wishing I had my bow. I could make an outline of three shut doors, one directly in front of me and then one to the left and to the right. Knowing they opened in rather than out I was more confident in this sweep. There was less of a chance of an oh shit moment.

  I paused at the end of the hall, the air was thick with the stench of mold and a hint of rot. I rattled the door knob to my left.

  I waited, listening.

  No shuffling, no dull moan, nothing.

  A quick turn of the wrist and a hard push had the door wide open. Inside was a queen bed with the sheets in a tangled mess, a particle board looking dresser and a window decorated by off white curtains that stood out like teeth against the lavender walls. Unoccupied.

  Pulling the same shake and wait routine on the door to the right of the purple passion room, I discovered a floral tile nightmare of a bathroom. Also unoccupied.

  Which brought me around to the final door, had this been a game show I would have lost my prize. After all, who gets to open all three on their turn?

  The last knob I went to rattle was locked, a sign something was doing in this room. Leaning against the door to listen gave little encouragement. Not a peep, not a squeal.

  With a hiss I stepped back, adjusted my weight and kicked the particle board as hard as I could. The wood cracked, splintered, and assaulted my senses with air that reeked of a tomb. The door didn’t fly open there was something blocking it on the other end. Peeking through the hole in the door frame I was able to make out a chest of some kind that had been wedged up to the opening.

  When I was absolutely certain there was nothing moving about inside, I went to work removing the obstacle. After what I’ll admit was a fair amount of effort, I was able to knock out enough of the door to dislodge the blockage and get inside. What awaited me was a heartbreaking scene.

  On the bed were the bodies of an elderly couple. Emaciated and mostly frozen, the pair was hardly more than a skin wrapped skeletal outline, heads turned towards each other as they lay on their sides holding hands. Their outline almost forming a macabre heart shape in death upon the off white floral comforter. I did not know if one had passed before the other, or if they had passed in tandem. I could only assume that whatever had transpired within this home they had barricaded themselves in this room, too frail to fight off the dead that stood between them and the door, and slowly starved to death.

  Or froze.

  I swayed slightly, reaching out to the doorframe for balance. Why hadn’t they tried for the window? Granted it was a smaller mid-century one that probably would have involved some climbing, but it was worth the effort. They could have made it to their neighbors, they could have...lived.

  The gleam of metal by the far side of the bed caught my eye, there was a walker tucked under the bed, cut tennis balls on the ends and all. Perhaps climbing wasn’t an option, at least for one of them.

  There was a rustle behind me, a heavy foot that was coming from the kitchen area.

  Shit, had I missed something?

  Doubling back, I raised my knife. The sounds persisted footsteps from the kitchen area. Walking back into the living room I noticed that my skittish porch guard had apparently flown the coup. The front door was wide open, with my position not close enough to see the carnage we had left on the lawn. Double shit. Had something come in from outside?

  Just past the bloodstained couch was the doorway to the dining room. The sounds loud and uneven just out of my range of view. With a deep breath I whirled around the corner, prepared to shove my knife deep into the skull of-

  Rylie?

  I immediately put my hands down.

  “I about killed you.” I muttered with a smile.

  “If you think so.” He retorted, the corner of his thick lips kicked up in a smirk. His dark eyes appearing to shimmer in a warm yet soulless way. “Any deadheads?”

  “No, just a couple of bodies that need BnB.”

  “How the hell could this happen?” Rylie hissed, running his hand over his dark hair, the movement flashing part of his scar.

  “I have a theory. Come on. Let’s go check Jeff Arnold.” By the time I had finished my sentence the heavy beating in my chest had dissipated and only a slight shake remained in my hands. It wouldn’t be long before the after effects of the
day would be pulling me to rest. Not that I planned on giving in, there was far too much to do.

  We went back outside to Jeff’s corpse. Rylie did a quick puncture through the eye socket of the woman I had found the first one feeding on, who now was surrounded by a few crying people from the crowd. Had to have been her family and friends. I thought it was callus of Rylie to have to desecrate her like that in front of them, but time was a variable with the dead. She could change now, she could get up in an hour or a day. He didn’t want to risk it I’m sure.

  “She went next door to say hello, Sarah was always social. Always friendly. She didn’t deserve this.” One of the girls managed to choke out through her tears. I had to look away, back to the body on the ground in front of me. Sarah...

  Yeah, she didn’t. Nobody did. That’s the way of the world though.

  With a shake of my head I turned back to good old Jeff. He had been fully clothed when he died, which gave me the pleasure of ripping his stained clothing off his decaying frame. I started with the chest, tearing through the center of his shirt I looked for bite marks, tears. Any signs of original trauma. Something that was damned difficult after the elements had gotten ahold of his rotting flesh. Tears and mottled grey flecked skin made it hard to discern much.

  Behind me it sounded like the wall guards that had managed to dissipate the initial crowd were doing their best to get the mourning relatives out of the area, with much resistance.

  “Think he was infected during the wall breach?” A deep bass voice questioned from beside me.

  “Yeah. It was just days before we did lock down, maybe he had a small wound that took a while to kill him. Then he had all winter to infect his homestead.”

  “Why would he hide that though? Jeff was well trained. He knew the outcome of that scenario.”

  “Maybe he was afraid of death, maybe he didn’t think it was that bad. Who knows?” It hadn’t been the strangest behavior we’d seen since this whole thing started.

  When I found nothing on his chest I ripped open his sleeves. Nada, just more gray mottled flesh. With a cringe I checked both pant legs, being careful not to touch his seeping wound around his partially detached ankle.

  “Nothing.” I frowned, chewing on my lower lip.

  “Let’s flip him over.” Rylie helped me roll the body onto its stomach. The remains were heavy, rolling with a sickening sticky flop sound.

  Pulling back the flannel from his mottled flesh revealed a curious surprise. Sure as shit there was a half-moon indentation in his Trapezius muscle just over his shoulder blade. It wasn’t a large bite by any means, no chunk removed. Just a partial attempt that had been thwarted by the victim by my guess.

  Rylie cursed with a shake of his head, the dark hair pouring in front of his eyes giving him a slightly sinister-not to be crossed-appearance. A visible reminder of why he ran the show on the front line.

  “Cowardly, not to report this to his commanding officer.” Rylie grumbled, he pulled his radio from his hip. “Jose I want you to gather the afternoon guard and do a house by house check of everyone who was involved in the breach fight. Over.”

  “Not sure I remember who all was there sir. Over.” Came the crackled reply.

  “Then check every house. Call it a wellness check if anyone asks. Over.” Rylie hissed.

  “Yes sir. Over.” Rylie nodded at the two men who had lingered outside the doorway by him. I watched in silent amazement as the command was repeated to the guards, their faces stoic against Rylie’s verbal dominance. There was a click of boots, then the men were off to fulfil his missive.

  His hooded stare fell to my face, his eyes carrying a mix of emotions I could not attempt to comprehend. The jovial admiration faded from his stare as quickly as my adrenaline had dissipated after the attack, in its wake his jaw tightened his gaze seemingly glazing over. He had retreated into himself, away from me.

  “You should probably go home.” Rylie spoke slowly, like I was a dog that had followed him to school. My chest tightened, an invisible reminder of my councilwoman non-defender status hanging in the air in front of my face.

  “I...” I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and check the rest of the town. I wanted-

  “Evelyn.” A commanding voice interrupted my thoughts, turning around I caught sight of my father and Mark jogging up to our position, both of their faces full of worry as they took in the scene. Mark had an aluminum bass bat in his hands, something I hadn’t seen him carry since I was sixteen.

  “I’m fine.” I reassured him as he gave me a quick hug, looking me over from head to toe. Mark excused himself quickly, eager to get back to his family I’m sure. Something like this definitely left you rattled for loved ones. At that point Rylie stepped into his dutiful soldier role and began giving my father and Shive-who had walked down from the north end of the street-a detailed account of the incident. I didn’t listen to the specifics. I couldn’t focus. Seeing them all standing there over the dead nodding and pointing, it was like a scene from an old police drama. My feet moved backward from the display, torn between what I should be doing at that moment and what I was supposed to do.

  Absentmindedly my fingers played with the angel pendant around my neck while I shifted my weight from leg to leg, acutely aware of the pain in each limb. More precisely, the major lack thereof. It wasn’t a sharp sting as it had been before the snowfall, rather a very dull ache. The sensation fading almost as quickly as it had arrived. I was truly was fine. Something I had been so confident about in my own bedroom, but a theory that had yet to be tested in the field. Until now that was. Now it was fact. I was able bodied as any other man or woman in this colony. I should have been smiling and jumping for joy, breathing a sigh of relief. Instead it only made me feel like there was a noose tighter around my neck.

  I took another step back from my fellow council members, listening to them prattle about how to best spin this to the community. Dad wanted an honest direct approach, Shive wanted to wait until the house checks came back and announce it along with the all clear.

  Words words words. All it was.

  “Hey Dad...I’m going to go find Cole.” I politely started to excuse myself when he took a breath.

  “Alright, you will be at work today though?” His eyes only flicking briefly to me before refocusing on the dead in the front yard.

  “Yeah...I’ll be there.” I bit my tongue before I belted out that I had already told him that twice, and I was not a child that needed to check in.

  “Good.” And that was all I got from Councilman Steven Younger. He was in full work mode, one of the only modes he had anymore it seemed. Spinning on my feet I started to walk north along the sidewalk. Next intersection I’d hang a left and hopefully stomp out my rage before I got to Coles.

  “Evelyn.” I didn’t recognize the voice so I kept on trucking forward. I was frankly in no mood for nonsense. Then a large warm hand grabbed onto my shoulder.

  “Hey, wait a moment?” I whirled around and came eye level with the pecs of Rylie Everen. Tilting my head up I stared into his slate eyes, he was the last person I would have ever thought to come after me. I immediately felt overwhelmed by him up close, his somewhat aggressive posture throwing off an aura that made me want to step to the side of his path rather than be caught in it. Instead I was prey at the moment, caught in the dark focus of a trained killer. On some note, I found it comical I was more intimidated by Rylie at times than Caius. I technically had no reason to be, Rylie had never been anything but nice to me.

  “Sure.” Came my casual reply while I forced a smile.

  “I wanted to tell you. That was some damn good work girl. You prevented a seriously shitty tragedy with your quick hand.” That hard tone softened slightly, appreciation lacing his words. His verbiage took me back to a broken bloody bedroom and a shorter also raven haired once-man.

  Stop it.

  “Thanks Rylie...that means a lot coming from you.”

  “Have you given any thought to what I sai
d before the snow?”

  “Kinda.” Yes, all the time. I thought to myself.

  “And?”

  “I don’t know how that would work. I’m stuck doing...this.” I nodded back towards my Dad and Shive, who had begun to grow heated in their bickering. My father was starting to talk with his hands, a sign I knew to be the beginning of the end of his rope.

  “You are never stuck. I’d say it’s a free country but...” The best way to describe it was Rylie...shrugged. Complete with an eye roll. A gesture that looked so out of place on a six foot soldier, I expected something like that on a thirteen year old but on him. It was just off.

  I giggled, to think the great Rylie Everen had a sense of humor.

  “Just think about it. You want to come back? I will find a way to make it real.”

  “Thanks. I mean it.”

  “I know you do. Now if you excuse me,” Rylie trailed off, looking over his shoulder at my fellow council members, “I’m going to try to get these hot heads to the council chambers before they start duking it out.”

  “Oh I doubt they’ll take it that far.”

  “Even so.” He gave me a two fingered salute as he turned away from me. I probably wouldn’t see him again till.-

  Oh crap.

  “Hey wait.” I grabbed his arm, to spin him back my way. My eyes widened slightly as I felt his bicep. The guy had zero fat and a bulky amount of muscle. It made my hand look like a child’s pulling on his thick arm. Cheeks flushing from my grab maneuver, I dropped my arms.

  “Are you going to the Spring Festival this year?”

  “I am obligated to make a brief appearance.”

  “Will you come find me when you show up?” His eyes flashed with curiosity. I briefly wondered if the flush in my cheeks made him misinterpret my meaning. No, not Rylie. He was too honorable for that. He knew of my relationship with Cole. Hell, he approved of it.

  Rather than respond with words, Rylie shifted his feet and gave me a curt nod.