E52

by Lowther, Shawna Stewart

  “Okay,” I say, yawning. “I just need to rest for a second.”

  As I close my eyes, the earth feels as if it shakes below me. The sudden movement causes me to fall from the crate.

  “What the hell was that?” I yell.

  Bill comes running from the other room. His expression is that of panic. He runs outside.

  “It looks like one of the building blew up,” He states. “You have to see this.”

  I scurry over to where he is standing and look outside. The sky above is now painted with colors of red and orange,. The fire feeding the brilliant colors into the sky the night sky turns to day.

  “We should leave,” Bill suggests.

  “I can’t,” I state, tears gathering in my eyes. “I have to wait for David, he has the cure for the baby.”

  Bill looks down at the baby and frowns, then rests his hand on my shoulder.

  “I think it might be to late for him,” He says in a saddened tone. “He looks like the others.”

  He pats my back lightly.

  “I hate to say it, but maybe you should leave him here and go find your other son and start your life over,” Bill suggests. “Take the Jeep and go home. I will stay here, find your husband and let him know you got away. He will meet you there.”

  Moving my shoulders forward I steer away from Bill’s hand.

  “No,” I say in a stern tone. “I will not leave my baby. David will be here, I know he will. The baby needs the cure now!.”

  Determined, I turn and walk back over toward the crate.

  “Then I insist that we go upstairs and wait,” Bill states. “There is a ladder in one of the rooms that leads to the roof. With everyone trying to contain the ones that got out and the fire, I am sure they will not come this way. But just in case they do, the ladder will be our best way to escape.”

  Although I would rather be closer to the Jeep, I agree with Bill, there is no place to hide downstairs.

  “They made all these buildings pretty much the same so there is only one staircase.” Bill states. “We will have an advantage.”

  Leading the way, Bill walks to the west of the building, leading us away from the car.

  I look back and sigh.

  “Would you like me to hold the baby?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at me. “I am sure you are getting tired of carrying him and could use the rest.”

  Ignorant to the fact that if the baby scratches or bites Bill that he could become infected, I hand him the infant. I had allowed the baby to suckle on my finger and nothing happened to me. He is obviously not a carrier of the disease.

  “Sure,” I answer. “My arms could use the rest.”

  Carefully I hand the baby over to Bill, ensuring that the baby head stays supported.

  “If it wasn’t for his Grey complexion he would be real cute,” Bill snickers.

  His joke does not amuse me. I squint my eyes and pucker my lips, indicating to him that I do not find his joke funny.

  “I think he is cute,” I snap.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” He apologises.

  Aware that I am exhausted and in pain from having the baby, Bill walks slowly up the stairs.

  Half way up I stop and take in a deep breath.

  There are only about twenty stairs but it feels like hundreds. My exhaustion quickly overwhelms me.

  “I know you're tired but we really need to hurry,” Bill states, pointing to the far side of the hallway. “You can do this. The room is just down this hall.”

  Bill is already at the top of the stairs waiting.

  Using the last bit of strength I have I make it up the last half of the stairs.

  “Woo,” I state. “That was much harder than you would think.”

  Bill glances back at me and smiles.

  “Just give me a second to catch my breath,” I state.

  Pausing for only a second I lean against the wall then walk down the hall and in the room. The room is bright and unwelcoming, possessing only one large window that overtakes one of the walls entirely. You can see the entire compound from here.

  “I hope David gets here soon,” I whisper.

  “I am sure he will,” Bill says, consoling me.

  We both stand and look outside for a bit longer, ensuring that we can not be seen by anyone looking our way. The street in front of the building remains clear of anyone.

  “I am going to take a look around and see if I can find any old clothes that you can put on or maybe something you can use to wash up you and the baby.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” I ask.

  “No, you will be fine. Just sit down and relax, He answers. I won’t be long.

  To my delight there is a couch at the other end of the room. It is dirty and worn but will be more comfortable then the floor. I walk over and sit down. Instantly a cloud of dust fills the air, encasing me and the baby with fine grains of dirt. I lean forward and shield his face with my hair, and wave my hand to clear the air.

  The dust clears enabling us to breath more easily.

  For the first time in hours I feel safe knowing that I am not alone and that the baby and I have Bill here to protect us. David will arrive shortly and my baby will be on his way to recovery.

  “Daddy will be here soon,” I whisper to the baby.

  In my heart I know it will not be long until we be far away from this dreadful place, heal our son and tell others of this place and the horrible things that we have seen.

  I lie down on the couch and lay the baby next to me. He is colder than before, so I snuggle him closer. The warmth from my body does not help. He remains cold. I fear that with every minute that passes he is getting sicker. I shake my head in disgust.

  “How could anyone do this to a child?” I think in my mind.

  I lift my gown and wrap it around him. My legs are cold, but I pray that the extra covering will warm him a bit.

  “Mommy just needs to rest for a moment,” I whisper to the baby.

  My eyelids feel heavy, so I look toward the window in hopes that the brightness will keep me alert, but the exhaustion wins. Within minutes I fall asleep.

  My slumber brings me to a past time, when my family was together and everything was perfect. I dream of the times that David and I would take our first son Johnathon to the park. The dream turning to a nightmare as a vision of the new baby steals my memories. He is one of the undead and attacks Mathew, ripping at his flesh. He does not kill him, but instead turns him into the same monster as he. David tries to save both children but he too is bitten and becomes as they. It happens in a flash; I can not save them. In an attempt to get away I try to run but my legs will not move. I try to scream but my voice is unheard. Overcome by all three they tare deep in my skin with their sharp teeth and nails. I can feel the horrific pain as they rip my skin from my bones. Within seconds I am devoured by the family I cherish so much. I am to blame that they we are all monsters that will now live only to feed on others.

  “No!” I scream out, my own voice wakening me from my slumber.

  My heart is racing and my body is trembling. I feel as if I can not breathe. Panicked. I leap up to a sitting position. The baby falls from my arms, his tiny body landing on the couch next to me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask leaning down to pick him up.

  The babies mouth is covered in blood, the red serum smeared on his little cheeks.

  “Did I hurt him?” I wonder to myself.

  As I wrap my hands around him a pain seers down my left arm. Determined to check him for injuries I try to pick him up again but the pain in my arm intensifies. I look over at my shoulder. Fresh blood seeps through a hole in my gown.

  “What is this?” I question myself.

  With my right hand I place my fingers within the hole and feel around.

  “Son of a bitch!“ I scream out as soon as my fingers come in contact with what feels to be a wound.

  Unsure what has happened I tare the gown so that I may see beyond the material. I gla
nce at the new-found sore and then the baby.

  While I was sleeping, I was food to my newborn baby.

  “What is going on in here?” Bill asks.

  Bill is carrying clothing, a clean blanket and some canned food and a few bottles of water.

  “Nothing,” I state.

  “I thought I heard you scream,” He states.

  I am frightened that if Bill sees that the baby has bitten me, he will possibly kill him. Using my dirty gown I cover the baby’s face so that the fresh blood on his face will not be evident.

  “Oh sorry,” I state. “I fell asleep and awoke from a bad dream.”

  Bill continues to glare at me.

  “I didn’t realize I screamed,” I lie.

  “As long as you are okay,” He states.

  Bill holds out his hands.

  “I found these uniforms and a shower that is in working condition. Only the cold water is working but it will be good enough for now,” He states. “I will show you where it is so that you can get cleaned up.”

  The thought of being free from this horrific smell sounds wonderful to me, but I worry about the others finding us.

  “Do you think that is safe,” I say suddenly. “I would love to clean up, but what if someone comes in while I am in the shower?”

  “I think it will be fine,” He states. “I am sure the military is busy taking care of the Creetions we let out and the fire.”

  Bill turns and walks down the hall. I follow.

  “It is right through this room,” he states. “I will wait outside and keep an eye out for anyone coming.”

  Bill smiles. “Just keep it quick.”

  He hands me the clothing and blanket.

  “Hopefully something I found will fit you,” He continues.

  With great appreciation I take the clothes and walk into the room. It is an old locker room consisting of a couple of showers a toilet and a few sinks all of which are rusty from the continuous leaking faucets. The room is not clean enough to bring in a newborn baby but it will have to do for now.

  “Maybe I should have Bill hold the baby while I clean up and then I will clean up the baby,” I wonder in my mind.

  I stand staring at the baby pondering what I should do.

  “ I better not,” I think to myself, now uncertain if the baby will try to feast on him.

  After laying the clothing that Bill gave me across the sink, I arrange the blankets on the ground in order to make a comfy bed for the baby. I place the baby on the bedding then strip my clothing off. There is not a speck of my skin that is not covered in some kind of disgusting muck.

  “Mommy will be right back,” I whisper to the baby.

  The shower is only but a few feet away so I feel confident that I will be able to take a quick shower without anything happening to my son.

  The water is cold like Bill had stated but feels wonderful streaming down my filthy body. I look down as a river of blood, vile and dirt gathers around me, making its way to the drain. The sight is sickening so I close my eyes and allow the water to flow down my face.

  It does not take long before my skin becomes ice cold. A chill shoots up my spine. The enjoyment that I had been feeling comes to an abrupt end.

  “Well I guess it is time for me to get out,” I say in my mind.

  Once I turn off the water I look down at me legs. I am no longer bleeding as heavy as I was. This I am happy for. The blue shirt that Bill had picked out fit’s a bit snug around my midsection but I decide to wear it anyway. The pants however fit perfectly.

  I take in a deep breath and exhale slowly.

  “Better,” I state

  I am ecstatic to be clean and wearing clean clothes.

  “Are you ready for a bath?” I ask the baby as I walk up to him.

  He looks comfortable in his makeshift bed and has fallen asleep. I hate to wake him but I know I must. The dirt and blood needs to be removed.

  “I’m sorry,” I state, lifting him from the bed.

  Trying to make him as comfortable as I can I take a shirt and a pair of pants from the pile and lay them in the sink. The sink is small and not comfortable for him causing him to squirm. I rub his little belly until he falls back to sleep.

  “Well I better get you cleaned up,” I whisper.

  Although Bill had stated that there was only cold water I still turn on both faucets in hopes that maybe, by some miracle, there is warm water. The water is as frigid as the shower water. There is no way I can put the baby in this cold of water, I will have to take a rag and clean him up as best as I can. I take a shirt from the pile of clothing and tear a piece off.

  “This will work perfect as a rag,” I think to myself, soaking the small piece of cloth in the sink water.

  As the cold rag comes in contact with the baby’s skin he jerks awake, but does not cry. It is as if he too is enjoying the feeling of being clean.

  “Did you find the little rags I put in the pile of clothes?” Bill yells from the hallway. “I thought you might be able to use them as diapers.”

  “No I didn’t,” I answer. “I guess the baby is laying on them .”

  Bill peeks in.

  “Do you need help?” He asks.

  “Sure,” I answer, picking up the baby.

  “If I hold the baby, will you look for the rags you are talking about?” I ask.

  “Of course,” he answers, walking over to us.

  The baby feels colder than before so I try to comfort him.

  “Here you go,” Bill states, holding up a few small soft cloth rags.

  The rags remind of the rags that David used when he worked on the cars. They will be perfect to use.

  With my first son I always used disposable diapers so I am uncertain how to fold a cloth diaper, but with a few tries I come up with an idea. I lie the rag out, fold it in half and tie the ends together, making a knot on each side.

  “This will have to do,” I state.

  “I am going to clean up a bit,” Bill states. “You can go lay back down and get some rest if you want.”

  I pick the baby up.

  “I can wait outside the door to keep an eye out for any intruders if you like,” I suggest.

  Bill glances beyond where I am standing and smiles.

  “It will only take a minute,” he answers.

  Bill taps his gun.

  “I will be fine,” he continues.

  “I didn’t know you had a gun,” I state.

  I cock my head to the side, indicating my bewilderment.

  “Why didn’t you use it on the Creetions?” I ask.

  “There were to many of them,” He states. “Besides, the gunshots would have given us away.”

  “True,” I state.

  Cradling the baby in one arm, I use the other to gather the rest of the rags and clothing that Bill had given me and then walk back to the other room.

  “I wish I could get you to warm up,” I state to the baby. “I know it is from the disease they fed you, but I have to try.”

  Taking one of the shirts I swaddle the baby, lay down and lay the baby down next to me, his body facing away from me. I feel bad doing so, but I am afraid of waking up and finding that another part of my body has been gnawed on.

  “Good night sweetie,” I whisper, kissing the baby on the back of his head. “Mommy loves you, no matter what you are.”

  Chapter Nine

  The sun glaring through the windows puts off a red glow throughout the room. I try to sit up but quickly realize that Bill has fallen asleep on the other end of the couch and my legs are stuck beneath him. I glance down, the baby is still sound asleep.

  “Bill,” I whisper, trying to wake Bill without waking the baby.

  He does not move.

  “Bill,” I whisper at a heightened tone.

  I move my feet around, lifting him slightly with my toes. Bill moves.

  “Bill!” I state again, this time moving my feet around with such power that I lift him from his seat.

  Bi
ll looks over at me and stretches.

  “What's up?” He asks.

  I wiggle my feet.

  “You are asleep on my feet,” I state. “I want to get up and see why it is so red outside.”

  Bill glances down at my feet.

  “Oh sorry about that,” He smiles, stretching his muscles.

  As soon as Bill stands up, I lay the baby on the couch and scurry over to the window. Before I get there Bill is already standing there, his expression warning me about what I am about to see.

  Just yards in front of us the streets are lined with hundreds of what appears to be mutilated people. These people however are not of the living They are indeed the Creetions. Some you can tell are the ones that the army made, the others the army themselves. The red glow coming from the buildings that once lined the roads are now fiery piles of rubble. The building we are in now appears to be the only one left.

  “What have they done?” I ask, my body quivering.

  Bill shakes his head.

  “They have started the apocalypse,” he answers.

  The site unfolding in front of us is the utmost disturbing but I can not look away.

  “Is that someone running?” I ask, pointing to the front of the pack.

  The glass is a bit dirty so Bill opens the window so that the vision is clearer.

  “I think it is a man,” he states.

  “A Creetion?” I ask.

  Bill leans a little further out the window.

  “I don’t think so,” he answers. “I think it is someone trying to get away.”

  I look at Bill. We need to help this man; it could be David.

  I scream as loud as I can.

  “We are here!” I scream.

  Bills pushes me aside and slams the window shut.

  “Are you crazy?” He asks. “Not only will the dead heads hear you but now this person is sure to bring them straight here.

  “But it could be David,” I state in a stern tone.

  Bill stares at me; aggravation his only emotion.

  “If it is David then he already knows you are here!” he says. “Now we need to get out of here!”

  My heart plummets into my stomach.

  “No we have to wait until we see if it is him!” I demand.