Zomb-Pocalypse 4

by Megan Berry

  Water splashes me in the face and I swallow more of it as I’m struck by a body that’s floating along beside me. I let out a scream, but it’s absorbed by the water and comes out as more of a gurgle. It’s so dark that I can’t see a thing, and I’m torn between hoping for a quick, painless death and trying to find the willpower to keep trying to survive.

  I have no idea how much time passes, but after a while we can’t see the outline of Louisville in the moonlight anymore. That’s when Silas stops letting the current carry us wherever it wants and starts to kick his legs and swim towards the bank.

  I try and kick my legs to help, but of all the crazy things, I’m exhausted. My eyes are practically begging me to close them, just for a minute. Then Silas pulls me into the shallow.

  “God damn it, Jane!” he snaps, shaking me roughly. “Don’t do this to me. You have to fight, okay, baby?” he says, and something in his voice pokes at my tired brain and draws my attention. It’s terror. He is terrified right now, and I’m confused. I glance blurrily around for zombies as he grabs both my arms and unceremoniously drags me further out of the water and up onto the bank. I don’t see any, and I hope they aren’t here because I don’t have the strength to fight them right now.

  Silas slips and falls in the soft sandy ground and sits for a minute with me in his lap before doggedly getting to his feet. “Stay awake, Jane! You can’t die on me. I won’t allow it,” he tells me, and through the fog in my head I realize with a start that he’s scared because of me.

  My eyes start to shut again, but Silas brings me back with a rough shake that makes my jaw crack together and I bite my tongue, tasting blood. It hurts and I want to yell at him, but I just don’t have the energy.

  I try to focus on Silas, but he isn’t looking at me. His attention is somewhere else. I crane my head to try and see, but everything is so dark. My eyes beg me to close them, but I try and resist since it seems to be upsetting Silas. “I think I know how to help us,” Silas tells me, brushing some sand away from my cheek. “I just need you to hold on for a little bit longer,” he begs me, and now I’m scared. Silas doesn’t beg.

  He pulls my backpack off and tosses it to the ground, reminding me of the first time I ever met him. I give him a silly little grin, but I’m not sure if my lips actually move or not. They might be frozen in place. Silas scoops me up next, grunting with the effort of carrying my weight. I’m a little offended—I don’t weigh that much anymore. I rest my cheek against his shoulder. Even though it’s cold and wet, I don’t mind.

  “Almost there,” Silas tells me as he wobbles up the river bank, nearly dropping me a couple times before we finally crest the hill.

  I close my eyes and don’t stir again until Silas drops me unceremoniously onto some hard surface. I force my eyes open and moan at the bruise he’s probably just put on my rear end. I try to curl up in a ball as I lean my back against the side of a house, and for a minute I think we’re back at the cabin.

  Silas pulls his knife from his pocket and bangs on the door. I want to stay awake and see what happens next, but it’s beyond my control.

  I hear a scrape and a grunt as Silas drags two heavy bodies past me. I don’t need to open my eyes to know from the smell that they are zombies. He doesn’t try and pick me up again as he grabs my arms and drags me, just like the zombies, into the house.

  I let out a weak sound of protest, but I honestly don’t even care at this point. I hear Silas rattling around and he comes back with a metal garbage can. I stare at him blankly as he starts ripping the trim off the windows and the baseboards from around the room. In the blackness I can just make out the fact that we are in someone’s living room.

  Silas lights a match. I wonder where he found a dry match as whatever he’s thrown into his makeshift fire pit flares to life. He stands staring down at the flames before shaking his head and taking off again, this time dragging the flaming trash can with him. I lay my head against the cold laminate floor and shut my eyes.

  “Not so fast, Blondie,” Silas says, giving me another rough shake as he starts dragging me again. The laminate turns to linoleum as he drags me into the kitchen and then into a walk-in pantry where he’s got his trash can set up. “We need a smaller space to keep warm,” he explains, even though I didn’t ask. He stops just short of a mound of blankets that he’s piled on the floor and starts pulling his waterlogged hoodie up over my head.

  I want to help him, but I just don’t have the strength, so I just lay there helpless and shaking on the floor while Silas manipulates my arms like I’m a corpse—and not the reanimated kind either. Silas grunts as the hoodie finally clears my head and then he’s working on my boots, pulling them off my feet and then my socks. My feet smack back down on the floor and he peels off my coat with the cut off arm and then the sweater that I’m wearing underneath.

  He starts to work on my jeans and has one hell of a time peeling them off. Finally, as I lay shaking on the floor in only my t-shirt and underwear, Silas reaches over and pulls my shirt over my head. I feebly shake my head, but it’s barely even a protest. All I can honestly do is shake so hard I feel like I’m having some sort of seizure. Silas drags me onto the blankets and buries me underneath at least ten quilts, but it does nothing to stop my shaking.

  “Ssss…” I try and say, but my speech is so slurred it’s not even worth the effort.

  I watch him from the corner of my eye as he hangs a blanket over the doorway, leaving the top uncovered a couple feet so the smoke can vent, and then he disappears, coming back wearing nothing but a pair of dry boxer shorts that he must have found somewhere in the house. He crawls underneath the blanket with me and kisses me gently on the forehead.

  “Stay with me, Jane,” he whispers as he forces a too-large t-shirt over my head, pushing my arms through. Then he reaches under the shirt and takes off my wet bra and underwear. I make a small hiss of protest, but she shushes me, shooting me a no-nonsense look.

  “This is serious, Jane,” he tells me as he draws me into his arms and covers us more securely with blankets. “You have hypothermia, you’re going into shock,” he tells me, and in my mind I know that’s something bad, but I don’t actually care one way or the other.

  The fire crackles loudly in the bin, and I finally allow myself to shut my eyes. That’s when I notice that I’m not the only one shaking. Silas is shaking so hard his teeth are chattering noisily in my ear. I try to give him an extra squeeze, even though I honestly feel like Silas is just as cold as I am. I’m not sure who is supposed to be warming who here, but my arms refuse to do what my brain is telling them so I just give up.

  I wake up cold, and I have a pounding headache that’s making my head feel all fuzzy. I feel around the makeshift bed searching for Silas, for some warmth. My eyes pop open and in the fire glow I can see that Silas isn’t here; I’m all alone. My pulse skyrockets as I wonder where he could have gone, or if my blurry memory of him was even real.

  I want to call out, but I’m scared I might attract unwanted attention. I peek under the blanket and I’m only wearing a navy t-shirt that falls down to my thighs. I don’t even know where my weapons went. I struggle to sit up and am relieved when my body actually obeys my command.

  I slowly pull myself to my feet, using the shelves that line the walls to support most of my weight. I can’t see anything but darkness beyond the blanket hanging in the doorway and I hesitate, not sure that I want to see what's on the other side.

  I finally gather my courage—worrying that Silas might have collapsed out there is the only thing that gets me moving. I grip a soup can from the shelf for protection as I pull back the blanket and let out a blood-curdling scream.

  Silas gives a shout of surprise and nearly drops the armload of broken up chair legs he’s carrying.

  "You scared me," he accuses as he drops the whole armload into the trash can, and I watch him with my hand over my own thundering heart. Silas stops and blinks at me like he just realized that I'm actually out of bed. "You n
eed to get back in bed," he tells me predictably, and I frown at him.

  "I'm okay," I tell him. After all, he was in the river for just as long as I was, but that doesn't stop him from wandering around.

  My eyes flick down to his bare chest and body that's only clad in a pair of boxer shorts and I blush, realizing that I'm only wearing a t-shirt myself.

  "The time for embarrassment is over, Blondie. We did what we had to do to survive. It's basic survival 101. You were hypothermic, any longer in those wet clothes and you could’ve stopped breathing and never woke up."

  It’s a shock to realize how serious the situation really was. I remember feeling numb and Silas pleading with me to stay awake, but now I feel silly for worrying that my dad might be upset that Silas and I slept together half-naked. Silas has saved my life—I don’t even know what the running tally is anymore. Dad would want me to live no matter what… I stop and stare at Silas in horror as more and more of the night comes back to me. I’m such a selfish idiot for not realizing it sooner.

  "What happened to my dad?" I ask, panic nearly swelling my throat shut.

  I watch a look of unease flicker across Silas's face and I want to scream.

  "No," I whimper, nearly falling over when my legs try to buckle, and Silas steps towards me, pulling me into his arms. Taking advantage of the fact that I can barely breathe right now, never mind tell him to stop, he pushes me back underneath the blankets to stay warm.

  “They’re going to be okay, Jane,” Silas tells me, and I look up at him with tears in my eyes.

  “How do you know?” I ask, and he doesn’t even hesitate.

  “Because I trust that they know what they’re doing,” he tells me as he gently strokes the hair from my cheek. “If we made it—then so did they. We just have to have faith and wait for the sun to come up so we can start looking for them.”

  “I hate the waiting,” I tell Silas, and he nods.

  “Me too, Blondie, but in the meantime your body is still weak and killing yourself to try and find your dad isn’t what he would want.” He gives me a mock stern look. “Let’s get some sleep, warm up a bit, and I’ll wake you up at sunrise and we can get going,” he tells me. Even though I’m worried, my eyes are already feeling heavy because my traitorous body has other ideas.

  “Do you promise?” I ask, and Silas nods, pressing a tired kiss to my lips.

  “Of course, now go to sleep.”

  The second time I wake up my headache isn’t as bad, and I actually feel warm. Silas’s body pressed against mine is like a furnace, and I have to fight the urge to snuggle deeper into him. We have to find my dad, Jack, and Ryan.

  Silas shakes me gently one more time, and my eyes pop open as I struggle to sit up. “It should be close to dawn,” Silas tells me, checking his watch even as he climbs out from beneath the blankets. I watch little goose bumps pop up on his exposed skin and shiver on his behalf. He reaches behind my head and pulls several hangers down from the top of the pantry shelf.

  “I dried our clothes,” he tells me, and my jaw drops a little.

  “When did you have time to do that?” I ask, and Silas snorts.

  “The five hours you were practically unconscious,” he retorts, and that sobers me up. I don’t even bother shedding my t-shirt; I just start piling layers on overtop. Everything feels a little stiff from air drying, but I ignore it.

  The guns are another thing I didn’t notice last night, but Silas has them all pulled apart and sitting on a shelf to dry. He catches me looking at them and nods. “I didn’t want to risk having them rust out,” he tells me, and I nod tiredly as I finish getting dressed and pop my gun back together. Silas nods his approval, but I don’t even crack a smile. We need to get going and find the others.

  Thankfully, Silas is not Abby and we are heading out of the house within minutes. My backpack is the only thing that didn’t completely dry out, but I’m grateful Silas had the forethought to go back to the beach and grab it, even though I don’t like the fact that he left me unconscious in the house and went outside in the dark alone.

  I’m leading the way with Silas a few steps behind me, and I throw open the front door without thinking and step out. I know I’ve messed up right away as the smell of death assaults my nostrils. The zombie on the porch turns at the squeak of the door and lunges for me. Silas throws me out of the way and meets the rotting bastard halfway, burying his knife all the way to the hilt in its eye socket.

  The zombie goes completely still on contact and crumples to the ground, pulling itself off of Silas’s knife with a wet slurp. I stare down at the rotting corpse and swallow—I’d completely forgotten they weren’t frozen here. I got too used to the cabin, and now I feel like such a stupid idiot. Silas turns around and glares at me as I’m picking myself up off the ground.

  “How could you be so careless?” he demands just as I was about to open my mouth and apologize. I snap my mouth shut and shake my head. “Screw your head on right, Jane,” Silas tells me before turning away and taking the lead this time.

  My pulse is still thundering away inside my body as I step off the porch, making sure I look a full three hundred and sixty degrees around me. Silas leads us back to the river, following the trail we took the night before. I barely remember it, but the tracks are still fresh in the soft sand.

  We scan the shoreline carefully on either side, but we don’t see any sign of anyone else so we start walking. “Why are we going this way?” I ask after several minutes without either of us saying a word.

  Silas shrugs. “I didn’t see them after we all jumped, I was too busy trying to save you, but I can’t see them getting out of the water any earlier than we did, and it’s more dangerous to head back towards Louisville so…” he motions to the river running parallel to us and shrugs, “we go this way for now.”

  I can’t find fault with his logic, so I continue to follow him. We stay right beside the water, scanning both sides and the trees that line the bank. I pay special attention to the sand since it’s so wet we’re leaving all kinds of footprints; they must’ve too.

  We round the bend and Silas holds his hand up, and my feet come to a grinding halt. Someone is up ahead, kneeling on the bank and looking out across the river. “Ryan?” I call out, and slowly the zombie staggers to its feet and heads towards us with a growl. I let out a sob as my heart breaks, even as Silas lifts his gun and plants a bullet right between the zombie’s eyes.

  “Stay here, Jane,” Silas pleads with me as he pats me gently on the back and heads towards the body. Tears blur my eyes so much I can barely see, but I refuse to be left on the sidelines. I need to know what happened, why Ryan turned.

  He’s face down and Silas gently rolls him over and lets out a sound of surprise. “It’s not him,” he tells me, a grin splitting his face, and I blink in confusion.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, wanting so badly to believe him, but I’m terrified it’s just a cruel mistake. I rush forward to see for myself, rubbing the tears out of my eyes with my sleeve so I can actually see. It looks an awful lot like Ryan, the build and hair color, even the jeans…but the face is completely different. “Oh my God,” I can’t help saying as I sink to my knees and bawl some more.

  Silas frowns at me in confusion, but I can’t explain the immense relief rushing through me right now.

  Silas looks further up the bank at something laying on the ground and frowns as he slips away to go examine it. “Who is that?” I ask sharply, my relief evaporating at the sight of a second body.

  Silas bends down and stares at the mess of blood and gore in the sand. “It’s not them,” he calls out, and I feel slightly guilty being glad it’s someone else, but I am. Silas pulls out his gun and shoots the poor soul in the head when they start to wiggle, and I have to look away. I tell myself it was moving because it was a zombie, but I’m not convinced that’s what just happened.

  Silas comes back towards me and offers me his hand. I allow him to pull me to my feet and into a hug. “We’ll fi
nd them, Jane,” he promises, and I nod. I believe him. I know that Silas won’t stop until we do. I just pray that when we do, they’ll still be my dad, Jack, and Ryan.

  The End… for now.

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