The Rabid Mind Two

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  Tyler looked out the window, and scanned the area, trying to think of a way out, and his eyed locked with that of another. An infected. It stood a few metres away from the struggle going on in front of the house, and even more baffling, seemed to be coordinating the attack. As their eyes, locked, it looked at him with a detached sort of menace, one that held much more sinister implications. There was retained intelligence in the look, one that defied reasoning, based on what they already knew about the infected. Are they somehow evolving? Or what the hell is happening? He thought, and bent back down, unable to keep up with the staring contest. This shook Tyler to the core.

  “We’re running out of options Sheila and we’ve got serious problems. There seems to be one of them out there, who’s…I don’t know how to put this.” He started.

  “Intelligent?” She replied, getting up and firing two consecutive shots. “Yeah, I know. I see him.”

  “What do we do, we need to weed them out somehow, at least enough to get to the truck, and hightail it outta here.”

  Weed. That’s it. ”Your strange use of words just gave me an idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.” Sheila said excitedly.

  “I might have a way to clear out an opening for y’all. But you’re gonna have to move fast. Okay” she said getting up.

  “Wait. What’s the plan?” Tyler asked,

  “A while back, our farm was attacked by a very nasty fungus. Very nasty. And my husband went out and got a flamethrower, and torched the fungus. We still have that thing. Its somewhere in the basement.”

  “Flame thrower? Why not just get a small propane torch?”

  “We have a big farm,” and she ran towards the basement door, and was soon back with the device.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Tyler commented, looking at the device. It consisted of a backpack and a gun. The backpack had two cylinders, one held nitrogen, while the other contained propane. The igniter worked using a small pilot flame fuelled with the pressurized gas from the system.

  “Only one problem it only last for about two minutes before it’s out of fuel. Space your shots out, like ten second blasts and it should clear you a path to the truck.”

  “Let me use it to clear a path.” Tyler said, reaching for the device, but she shook her head, and said.

  “You were entrusted with the safety of those kids. I need you to do your job. Old Joe here will handle it, and clear a path, while you and the kids, make a beeline for the truck. It’s gonna be a close encounter, but I assume you’ll make do. Joe” she called, and the man left his post and came to her, collecting the flamethrower from her. She gave his shoulder an affectionate rub and they both nodded.

  The kids all ran and hugged her, each one aware of the fact that this could very well be the last time they see her. After the hug ended, Tyler hugged her too.

  “Take care of them Ty.” She said, tapping his back, and then she ushered them out. The kids each had their backpacks filled with supplies on their backs, and they headed for the back door, as old Joe led the way.

  They got there, and eyed the group of infected waiting for them. With a deep breath and a short prayer, old Joe kicked open the door, and immediately, they ran towards him, he let out a jet spray of fire on them, spraying sideways, and walking towards them as more ran for him.

  Tyler eyed the truck, and herded the kids towards it, as Joe took care of the infected. They were almost at the truck when three infected broke the line of fire and charged towards them. Tyler tossed the key to Jeffery with instructions to start the truck, and turned to face them. He shot the first one, and dodged an attack from the second, while the third knocked him down. It was on top of his, and the second one ran towards them, he shot its leg, stopping its movement, and as it landed on the ground, it immediately began crawling towards them. Tyler parried an attack by the third infected and raised his gun to it, but it knocked it out of his hand, and reared back to attack, when a sudden force split open its chest, forcing it back and away from him.

  He turned back and saw Jeffery with the gun still raised, a petrified look on his face.

  “I told you to get to the car, Jeff.” As he collected the gun and they both raced for the truck. They got there and immediately jumped in, he kicked the car into gear as he reversed out. Headed for the road that would lead them out of the property, running over infected as he did. Slamming on the brakes and swinging the wheel to one side they spun around to face forward. Engaging the first gear, he floored the pedal, and raced off, as some infected chased after him.

  As he drove, breaking through a small fence, he eyed the infected he’d seen earlier. The intelligent one. Catching sight of his escape, it growled instructions at its comrades, and they ran after the truck. One of them grabbed on to the back and climbed up unto the roof banging away. Inside, the kids screamed in fear, as Tyler tried to shake it off. They suddenly hit a bump, and the infected lost its hold and slid down to the front of the windshield, and immediately started banging away at it. Seeing his chance, Tyler braked hard, and the infected fell backwards onto the road. Taking his foot of the brake he floored it. Crushing it. The rest of the infected had fallen back, and returned to the house, and they drove on, towards New Mexico, where Tyler’s friends waited.

  Back at the ranch house, Old Joe lay dead on the ground. The flame thrower had run out of fuel. They swarmed him and quickly killed him. Two infected currently fed on him. Outside, the other infected fell back to feed on the other dead ranch hands previously killed. The doors had been breached, and Sheila sat on a couch waiting, as one of them entered and walked towards her. Looking up, she saw it was him. The intelligent one. It was eyeing the gun she held, as if contemplating the best way to get it from her, before killing her. None of the others ever seemed aware of the dangers firearms and other weapons spelled for them, they were only driven by one thought. Self-preservation was not their main M.O. She smiled as the face-off continued. She had seen the truck drive off. The kids were safe, her job was done. Only one thing now remained.

  The room was filling up but they all stood behind this one waiting for his command. She thought like a pack of savage animals but somehow this one control them.

  The intelligent one was staring at the gun. “Oh this?” she said, lifting it up, “he-he, it ain’t for you buster.” She put the barrel to her head. “It’s for me”.

  The final gunshot reverberated throughout the valley, and all fell silent. The only sound that could be heard was that of the infected feeding, and the truck, vanishing far off into the distance.

  ***

  He saw the truck driving off. He hated that they’d gotten away, those idiots he’d sent after them had failed him. He would take care of them later. There was nothing else he could do now. His head pounded as another flashback hit him.

  He was in a lab. He was agitated. He had fucked up. He had fucked up big time. There was no other explanation. He reached up and collected the vial. The compound would have to work. He had no other hope. This was it. Good thing he’d thought to start creating a countermeasure. If only he had been able to finish it.

  He hated that he was now powerless in the face of everything.

  His mind went to his wife. He had to get to her, and on time.

  He looked at the syringe with blue liquid in it in his hand. He hated that he couldn’t verify its potency.

  His phone rang. He looked. The name was not quite clear. But he had been receiving calls very often now. Always the same person. He took a deep breath and injected himself with it.

  He grabbed the other syringe, put it in the case he had with it. He had to get home to his wife.

  The flashback ended then. He was always getting an incomplete picture. He hated it. He hated the headache that it brought with it. His head pounded now. He was aware that they would encounter no more resistance from anyone. A couple of feet in front of him, sat another old
er woman, about the age he’d been before, before it happened, he couldn’t remember what exactly, he never could remember specifics. Not when he wanted to, at least. Never at the time when he wanted to. His head pounded as he walked towards her, eyeing the gun she held with suspicion. She told him it wasn’t for him, and shot herself.

  He wasn’t even shocked, what did it matter really? Alive, freshly dead, they all tasted the same. He turned and growled to his remaining horde, they needed to feed fast and move on. There were cows and other livestock out back that they could tear through once the humans were done with. They had to keep moving towards Mexico. The plan had not changed. The people here had put up quite a fight, but what was left of their numbers was still dizzying. His mind wandered back to the escaping truck. He didn’t like losing. Oh well, they’ll probably run into them or another hive out there. The world was after all, theirs. Nothing, and no one, could change that now. He settled down beside the woman and took a bite at her neck.

  ***

  DOUBLE K RANCH: Present day.

  Debbie stared at the destruction that lay before her, and a single thought coursed through her mind, Oh God, not again.

  The journey there took them back, outside town, and down a series of dirt roads, then they saw the ranch up ahead. The sun was high up in the sky, as they drove into the vast property. They parked at the entrance and got out, the flies hovered and swarmed around them, up above the bright blue sky cloudless and infinite, in contrast with the peppery brown of dust, burn black of the property. Far off in the distance, the majestic grey of the mountains cast a gloomy look over the property. The house could be spotted from the distance, a dark grey affair with a white trim, a big barn was off to the right of it, its door wide open, but the smell of death hung heavy in the air.

  And then they saw them, and Debbie’s heart sunk.

  The grass was littered with infected, flies hovered in swarms around them. For a brief moment, Jim wondered if the flies could be infected, but the thought passed as he focused on the sight that lay in front of him. It inspired a feeling of Deja vu in both him and Debbie. Ernest whistled, the bodies of half eaten people lay where they’d been feasted upon, cows, chickens and goats alike. The horde had either been a ravenous lot, or they had been a dizzying number. They stepped into the house, careful to make as little noise as possible in case some were still left picking scraps, but it seemed they’d moved on.

  Debbie collapsed on a couch as Jim eyed the half-eaten body of a woman, she held a gun in her hand. Round the property similarly disturbing sights could be seen, Jim wished terribly that he had a cigarette, he needed something to calm his nerves. He looked over at Debbie, his heart went out to her, she’d been through too much already, and he couldn’t believe this was happening to her again. He went over to her and she put her head on his shoulder, and sobbed quietly.

  “House is clear,” Ernest said, coming in, he’d done a quick search of the perimeter. “They must have moved on. Damn! I can barely recognize the place. Those things sure do know how to desiccate a place. From the extent of decay of the bodies, I would say we are day or two late,” he said, then he spotted the hastily written letter half hanging from the wall, for some reason, his interest was piqued.

  “What’s this?” he asked rhetorically, walking towards it, he picked it up and saw what was the written on it.

  “Hey guys, I think I found something”

  Debbie was instantly beside him and snatched the letter from him, it read;

  Ty thinks this is a good idea, and right now, I’m too out of ideas to argue the logic. Children are safe. Ty’s taking them to his home town. He says he still has friends up there. If they’re anything like him, the children should be more than safe there. Ham radio set rigged in at the house he was going the call sign is ZJ1SS frequency 147.255

  Jim tried to calm her down though. Reminding her of the kids at home.

  “Remember the situation we left the house in Deb. Even assuming they’ve been able to get supplies from around town, what about ammo? Let’s go back home and drop these supplies first. We need to find out where this home town is that the letter speaks of. Then we can go back to the Brannon brothers and see if we can communicate with this Ty fellow with their ham radio setup, remember they had one up there. I just hope they’re still okay. Their setup was pretty well defended though. What do you say?”

  When Debbie failed to say anything, he continued, “It’s been a crazy few days, let’s go home and rest a bit. It will be a shame to lose all these supplies in a raid, or while running for our lives, don’t you think?”

  Debbie did see the logic in going back to the house to regroup, but these constant returns were getting cliché, and what were the odds that they’d meet the Brannon brothers in good health. Well, she thought, at least the kids are still alive. This Ty fellow is a real God send.

  “Alright.” She said, a bit reluctantly still. “Let’s get these supplies home, and get to that ham radio set quickly. I want to be on the road to wherever this guy’s home town is, as quickly as possible.” She said and started off towards the car, letter clasped tightly in her hand.

  “Thanks Ernest.” Jim said and Ernest nodded his acknowledgement. Jim turned to leave, then as an afterthought asked.

  “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have some smokes on your person would ya?”

  Ernest laughed, and shook his head indicating the negative, and Jim shrugged as if to say ‘had to try’ and went to join Debbie in the CRV.

  They watched as Ernest made a U-turn and followed suit, after retaking the series of dirt roads, they finally got on the highway and parted ways, Ernest making a beeline for Meeker, and they heading back home to Matt and Sandra. They were aware that it would easily be a day drive, keeping in mind the need to rest for the night, and the need to take alternative routes to avoid car pileups and other blocked off roads they’d encountered on the journey there. But with the supplies they now had, their confidence was higher than ever.

  ***

  Matt and Jet worked hard for three more days setting the fence posts, and they were finally done putting all the posts in. They were yet to setup the gate though. As they rested, Matt spoke out on his frustration concerning his inability to find rebar and barbed wire to complete the fortification of the fence.

  “Well we could check outlying towns now that we’re done fixing the fence posts.” Jet suggested, and Matt concurred, saying he had been considering the same thing,

  “There should lumber yard or cement place. The lumberyard in town has been ransacked and is basically empty. Looked like someone went on a power tool run. We need at least 1000 rebar pikes this time. At the former house, we could make do with seven hundred, but the perimeter we’ve set up is a bit bigger, so we’ll need more to adequately fortify the fence.” Matt said.

  “Yeah, probably. We’ll need to set out early tomorrow. We should pack all the essentials just in case it takes a night or two on the road.” Jet said.

  “We always do.” Matt replied smugly. “We try to make sure all the packs have the essentials for three days.”

  “Can’t argue with that logic.” Jet said.

  Over the past few days, they’d all gotten to know each other better, Claire was an excellent cook, just like Sandra. Together, they’d prepared dishes and experimented with the supplies they had on site, each dish managing to taste better than the rest much to the delight of Matt and Jet. They needed lots of calories with the strenuous, back breaking work they had to go through putting up the fence posts.

  Jet had been very impressed by Matt and Jim’s improvised homemade grenade, and had expressed his fascination on the subject. Together, they’d played with a few ideas bordering around further arming themselves against any attack, one that had stuck out though, was Jet’s idea for a homemade cannon.

  “That sounds like it could actually work.” Matt said, thinking about the specs
Jet had just laid out.

  “Yeah, actually been thinking about it for a while.”

  “Once we get the components and fix the bugs we’re sure to encounter. It will be a cold day in hell for any infected who runs into us.” Matt had bragged. “Wait till Jim hears this”

  Now as they sat down, admiring the fence posts they’d put up, he suddenly heard the distantly familiar sound of an engine approaching.

  “Come on Jet, let’s take cover until we find out who it is.”

  They headed inside, grabbed their rifles and watched from the window. Matt said. “Yep, the slave driver is back.”

  Slave driver what are you talking about?”

  “Her father. You’ll see what I mean.” He replied as an explanation. They walked outside. Sandra and Claire followed. Sandra couldn’t quite ascertain if the kids were with them or not though.

  Her question was answered when Jim and Debbie came out and started lifting bags out of the back and no one else followed. Debbie looked forlorn, so she ran to her and hugged her, the older lady started crying then.

  “I’m so sorry.” She said. “What happened?”

  “We’d just missed ‘em, it would seem.” Jim replied, dropping the bag and wiping sweat off his brow. “There was a note, said they are on their way to the man’s home town in New Mexico. We have no idea where that is, but we are hoping that the ranch hand who helped us before, Kevin, just might. And there was a ham radio frequency and call sign.”

  “That would mean the children are still alive, right?” Matt said.

  “Yes. That’s what we have to hope for.” Debbie said.

  “I’m just really tired, I need to lie down,” and with that she walked into the house to the room she shared with Jim and lay on the bed, sobbing silently. Jim made to go after her, but Sandra held him back.

  “Let her be for now dad, you can go up later.” She said, and he nodded. His gaze suddenly narrowed as he now caught sight of Jet and Claire standing in the driveway.