by Jean Booth
“Run!” Jennifer screamed. She hoped they’d follow her lead, as she wasn’t sure they could hear her. She tugged at their arms, pulling her knife out as she did in case the super-zombie attacked. She could feel her heart pounding through her whole body. This couldn’t be happening. The three turned as one and sprinted toward the exit. The super-zombie stood in front of the door, frowning.
“It’s very rude for the guests of honor to run out on their own party, especially when it’s just started. You should at least wait until after dinner.” He sounded so normal.
Jennifer grabbed her crossbow, pointing it directly at the zombie’s head. Kaitlyn and Mark held their guns at the ready, knives prepared in case he came any closer.
“Now, that’s not very nice. Here I am, throwing you a party and you threaten me with weapons. If I wanted you like my friends here, you’d already be dead. I prefer my meals warm, still squirming with knowledge. I like to take my time with the brains, savor each morsel before giving you to the mindless drones behind you. Who wants to go first?” He held up a fork and knife, and once again bared his bloodstained teeth.
Jennifer cleared her throat, hoping Kaitlyn could hear it and would understand the prompt she was giving. They’d practiced shooting together, trying out different combinations of killing, until they could shoot at any still target simultaneously, without a lead-up. They wouldn’t have another shot. The arrow was quieter than the gun and if they executed the moves correctly, he wouldn’t know what hit him until he died.
Jennifer stood slightly behind Mark, pretending to cower.
“What happens if we refuse to feed you? Will you turn us into one of your creatures? Fresh brains are hard to come by these days,” Kaitlyn said, her voice steady through her fear. She stole the creature’s focus from Jennifer, distracting him long enough for the other girl to load a bolt and aim over Mark’s shoulder. The creature smiled.
“If you refuse, I’ll be happy to wait until they have you incapacitated and eat you the old fashioned way. Either way, your brains are mine.” He licked his lips.
“Over my dead body.” Kaitlyn yelled as she chucked her knife as hard as she could at his chest. The arrow left Jennifer’s chamber at the same time, releasing a nice, soft twang in its wake.
The zombie caught the knife before it could penetrate his skin. “That can be arranged, my dear,” he replied, smiling.
“Really?” Jennifer asked, and pointed to his forehead where her bolt had penetrated. He looked up; the expression on his face as he fell to the ground could almost have been comical, had there not been a crowd of zombies still surrounding them. Jennifer went cautiously over to the intelligent zombie, and emptied the magazine of her Colt 45 into his skull, leaving only a mashed pile of goo behind. The other zombies weren’t moving. They seemed at a loss now that their leader was gone.
“Happy now?” Mark asked.
Jennifer shrugged. “Let’s get back to the compound,” she said, her voice shaking.
“What about the feed?” Kaitlyn asked, reminding them all that their mission had yet to be completed.
“Damn it!” Jennifer said. “Kaitlyn, you take the truck with the freezers, Mark you drive the other one. I’ll sit in back and shoot anything that moves. I don’t want a repeat of this performance.”
Quickly, they gathered into the two trucks, all three silently agreeing to leave the third and forgo the last two appliances. If Sarah wanted them badly enough, she could go get them.
They made it to the feed store in record time. Mark parked his truck end first at the gate leading to where the large animal feed was stored. Jennifer jumped down and unlatched the gate. Together, with Kaitlyn as a lookout, they loaded as many hay bales as they could into the truck.
When the truck was full, Jennifer took point, watching for zombies as Kaitlyn and Mark gathered bags of food for the poultry, Dog, and the rabbits. They completely filled the two freezers as well as the passenger side of Mark’s truck with food. As an afterthought, Jennifer grabbed a handful of dog toys for Dog.
Jennifer took Mark’s truck, and he went to drive with Kaitlyn. She was still nervous from their encounter with the strange zombie and in a hurry to get back home. Something still wasn’t sitting well with her. She wanted out of town and back on the farm where this strange life at least made a bit of sense. She sped, as fast as she dared to go with their load, back to the farm. After this experience, she craved the peace and security the compound offered. It was home.
KAITLYN
Once they made it to the farm, they carefully maneuvered the trucks one by one across the bridge and into the driveway of the main house. It always saddened Kaitlyn to see the children playing in the yard with guns strapped to their small hips. No one should grow up like this, fearing, and always watching for an attack. The other adults stopped what they were doing to help quickly unload the trucks. They needed to dispose of at least one of the trucks to maintain the space they had.
With the help of the others, they had both trucks emptied in minutes.
“Are we the first back?” Mark asked Bryant, one of the men on lookout.
“Yes, but that’s not too surprising. You know how Sarah and Matt are, and Emery’s team had to load that semi. I’ll be surprised if we see any of them before dinner. You’re missing a few items,” he said.
“We ran into some problems. The infected aren’t as dumb as we thought they’d be. We managed to load these two before we were ambushed. I never expected they’d cooperate and bide their time like they did. It was crazy, man,” Mark replied.
“Fuck. That sucks,” Bryant replied with feeling.
Mark and Kaitlyn hopped into the two trucks, driving them out of the compound and down the freeway to add to the pile-ups on the sides. After disposing of the truck with the least amount of gas and siphoning it into the other, they headed back to the farm.
Kaitlyn sat next to Mark as they waited for the gate to open, thinking about their new home. For the first time since coming to this safe haven, she saw its vulnerability, as she was certain Sarah saw it. They abutted a steep mountain and had water closing them in on two sides. The eastern side of the farm was open to the main city. Sure, it was fenced and they were approximately ten miles from the city, but if they were ever attacked, they’d be sitting ducks. There really was only one way into or out of the compound. She shivered.
EMERY
“Shit, that was close,” Emery exclaimed, fear causing him to drive faster than he’d intended. “Michael, you okay man? Were you bitten?”
Michael couldn’t respond to Emery’s questions. He shook his head, his entire body trembling. Emery knew Michael should never have come on this raid. He wasn’t a killer. He wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing.
Emery slowed the truck down. His pulse started slowing the further they drove away from the home improvement store and the crowd of zombies that remained there. He swung his fist behind him, pounding on the window that separated the cab from the bed of the truck where Kevin was still sitting.
“Hey, man. You okay? Any bites?” Emery asked through the small window.
“Nope, I’m good. We need more ammo and another semi. We’ve got to get this shit before we go home.” Kevin sounded more in control than he felt.
“Dude, what the fuck happened back there? I’ve never seen so many working together before,” Emery said. He didn’t want to relive that anytime soon.
“Fuck, I don’t know. I think the fuckers set us up, but I’m not sure how. There must still be a few left with working brains. The forklift was too sweet. We should’ve left it alone. Did you notice how they waited until we’d exhausted ourselves after loading all the lumber?” Emery nodded to Kevin’s question, although he was certain Kevin wasn’t looking for a response. “They were waiting for us to tire ourselves out. They must’ve been lining up outside by the semi, waiting for the right moment to attack,” Kevin mused aloud. “I knew things shouldn’t have been that easy.”
Emery nodded in
agreement. He’d thought the same thing, only he still couldn’t figure out why they attacked early.
“If they’d waited so long and so patiently for us to be vulnerable, why not wait for until we were in the bed of the semi, where we would’ve been cornered and a meal would’ve been guaranteed?” He voiced his questions aloud, hoping Kevin could figure it out and explain it to him.
“They were starving.” Michael’s hoarse reply startled them both. Neither man expected him to be following the conversation. “The one that came after me looked so hungry. I think he wanted me to himself. He wasn’t counting on Kevin.”
“Once my gun went off, the others must have figured out what happened and realized they couldn’t wait any longer. They reacted. They’re losing their intelligence like we thought they would, but not as fast as we’d hoped.” Kevin finished for Michael.
Emery was surprised that Michael could’ve put all that together in the current state he was in. He was also surprised that Michael realized the zombie that had attacked him was starving. He hadn’t thought Michael capable of functioning past his fear.
“We need to get more ammo. Now,” Emery said, voicing the thought on everyone’s mind. He maneuvered the pickup into the front entrance of one of the many hunting supply stores in town. Together the three men went in search of any ammo that hadn’t been pilfered yet.
They were a silent trio, each looking around for any movement, each terrified of what might happen next. Emery hadn’t expected the zombies to have any sign of intelligence left. That they were able to plan enough in advance to set up a trap for the survivors scared the hell out of him. He jumped at every noise; the wind pounding against the doors had his jaws aching from clenching his teeth.
“We should go back to the compound. We’re no good like this. We need reinforcements,” Emery whispered. He’d had enough for one day.
“We should drive around a bit, maybe try to find a place to hide and eat and then try to retrieve the semi. I hate to see all that hard work go to waste. Besides, the infected won’t expect us to go back for it. If we wait long enough, they should be gone,” Kevin said.
Emery knew he only suggested it because he didn’t want to return to the compound as a loser. The thought of running home with his tail between his legs and begging for help wasn’t in Kevin’s personality. Truth be told, Emery wasn’t certain he’d be able to leave his son again if they returned to the compound.
If they could find a grocery store that hadn’t been hit too hard and get something to eat, by the time they finished, most of the infected should be gone. If they drove the pickup by the store and saw any stragglers they would deal with them. If there were too many of the creatures, they could always come back at a later time to pick up the supplies. They didn’t need them, yet.
“That sounds like a plan.” Emery nodded at Kevin.
They loaded back into the truck, driving to the outskirts of town to one of the big multi-department stores. There they gathered snacks, stale bread, desserts, warm sodas, and water. The three men sat in the small restaurant area in the front of the store, eating their lunches in complete silence, each watching the aisles diligently for any signs of the infected. If any showed up, the three would run.
Michael picked at his food, but didn’t really eat anything. Emery understood; he didn’t have much of an appetite either, but knew they needed to keep their strength up. He knew Michael was warring with himself about his actions. It was written all over his face. He just didn’t know how to help his friend. Michael needed to learn to be comfortable with a gun. That was obvious after today’s encounter.
“I’m sorry I choked back there. I don’t know how you guys do it,” Michael said, staring intently at his bag of potato chips.
“Choked? That’s what you call that bullshit that happened back there? How the fuck did you survive so long out there, acting that way?” Kevin said, spitting out his soda in the process. He continued, not caring that the other two men were wincing at his tone and volume. “Dude, You fucking pussied out on us! Choking would’ve been awesome compared to you collapsing in a fucking heap! I’d expect that kinda shit from my grandmother. No, wait. Even my grams had bigger balls than you do.”
“Kevin, that’s enough.” Emery’s voice set Kevin off even further.
“Hell no it’s not fucking enough. This fucker almost got us killed. We could’ve been zombie food because this shithead’s too fucking afraid of a little fucking gun. He needs to grow a pair. Now.” Spittle was flying from Kevin’s lips. “Next time, your sorry ass can stay huddled on the floor for the goddamned creatures to feast!”
He was breathing hard. Emery knew he should defend Michael, but the truth was, he couldn’t. Michael had almost gotten them killed today. Perhaps the outburst from Kevin would be just what Michael needed, waking him up to reality. Every time Michael did something stupid, Emery was the first person to justify it, the first one to make sure Michael’s feelings weren’t hurt, and the first one to help Michael. Emery felt sorry for the man, but today, he just couldn’t defend him.
“You’re right. I’m less than worthless in a fight. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to change that. Believe me, I want to. I don’t like being a burden on the community. I want to help. I just don’t know how.” Michael’s quick agreement and assessment of himself put a damper on Kevin’s anger.
“First of all, you’ve got to quit thinking about those things as people. They’re not. They’re half-dead, mindless drones, bent on devouring your measly little brain. Not that they’d get much sustenance from yours. This is war. It’s us or them out there, and you’ve got to decide if you want to live.” Kevin had calmed down and sounded as if he wanted to help Michael, if only so he’d be less of a liability. “It’s not just your ass that’s on the line out there. You fuck up, you get all three of us killed. What would Emery’s kid do if he knew you helped get his dad killed? You need to think about that shit while we’re out here.”
“I do want to live. I don’t want anything to happen to any of you. I’ll try to remember that for the next time. Thanks for saving my back,” Michael replied.
“How the hell did you survive this long anyway?” Kevin was dying to know. Michael was one of the newest refugees and had lived among the zombies the longest. How he survived without being dinner was a big mystery on the farm.
“I’m really good at hiding,” Michael replied with a grin.
The three men laughed, the tension of the day finally dissipating into a comfortable silence.
They loitered around the front of the store until mid-afternoon, deciding they’d given the zombies enough time to evacuate the area where their semi still waited. Hopefully, when they returned to the home improvement store, the zombies would be cleared out and the men would be able to drive straight back to the compound.
They drove slowly back to the store, Kevin chain smoking, and watched for any signs of life—or unlife—as they drove. They circled the parking lot of the store twice, everyone on alert for any type of activity. They didn’t see anything.
“It looks clear,” Michael said.
“Don’t get too comfortable, they could still be hiding inside. You and Emery check out the semi while I go in to finish loading. I’ll make sure the trailer’s empty,” Kevin replied, taking the leadership role for once.
They left the pickup in the parking lot near the doors it was parked to the last time they were here, with the keys dangling from the ignition for a quick getaway. They scurried to their prospective tasks. Kevin headed back into the building to make sure everything was clear. Emery and Michael waited for him to tap on the trailer to come so they knew there were no more zombies left.
“You’ve got my back on this, right?” Emery asked, fear and doubt coating his words. He liked Michael, even thought he was a good, stand-up guy, but he wished Kevin or any other person was here at this moment to cover him. He wasn’t sure he could trust Michael to do what was necessary.
Michael nodded, holding
his gun closer to his body; Emery was certain this was to hide his trembling limbs.
When the all clear came, Emery opened the driver’s door and all hell broke loose. A zombie leapt from the interior of the cab, snarling and drooling as he reached for the two men. He was stopped in midair by a well-placed bullet to his brain. Another crawled from underneath the cab, intent on feasting on Emery’s feet. Michael shot him as well.
Emery looked over at Michael for a moment, shocked at the accuracy and speed of his shots. Both men continued to shoot at the zombies that poured out from every part of the semi.
It appeared as if none of the zombies had left; they’d just crawled into the cab, or under the semi to hide from the men. They had waited for them to return to their cache of supplies. Rather than let their fears consume them, Emery and Michael used the adrenaline that the fear produced to keep their energy up and take the zombies down, one by one.
A bullet zipped past Emery’s cheek, slicing the skin open before impaling a zombie right between the eyes. He’d been concentrating on the ones crawling out from underneath the truck’s trailer and not paying close enough attention to the ones struggling to escape the cab. While he was shaken up from being nicked, he was grateful for Michael’s precision. He didn’t know what had come over the normally petrified man and he wasn’t about to question it. All he cared about was living through this raid and getting back to the compound.
They both changed the magazines in their guns, waiting for more zombies to exit the truck. When their hearing cleared and the truck remained empty of any moving bodies, they proceeded to enter and eliminate any stragglers. Emery went in first, finally trusting Michael to have his back. He led with his pistol, praying the slaughter was over. The cab was blessedly empty.
Emery turned to Michael to give him the all clear. But before Emery could utter a sound, a zombie latched its mouth onto Michael’s neck.