The King of Clayfield - 01

by Shane Gregory

  "I had decided to leave today," he said. "The only reason I stayed was because I hoped you would be back. I figured since the chickens were still alive, then someone must have been feeding them, but when you didn't come...."

  "We've been busy," I said. "Jen was shot in the leg."

  "What?"

  "Yeah," I said, "She can tell you all about it later. But I'm curious about that bite you got on your ankle. How is it healing up?"

  "It's not," he said. "I'm having a hard time getting around."

  His leg looked bad. It was swollen, red, and where the teeth had gotten through, it was oozing puss.

  "I know where there is a doctor," I said, "but they probably won't let me in to see him; you'd have to go there alone."

  "I think it'll get better, I just have to get some rest."

  "Jen got bit, too, and the doctor had to put her on antibiotics."

  "Where is this doctor?”

  "He's out at the Grace County High School with some others."

  "Are there a lot of others?" he said.

  "Some," I said, "but they tried to kidnap Jen, so I--"

  "Well forget that shit," he said. "You'll just have to go out and find me some antibiotics."

  "I have some amoxicillin, but I don't know if that is the right kind, and I don't know the dosage."

  "What kind is Jen using?"

  "I don't know," I said.

  "Help me up," he said. "I can't walk very well."

  The infected were very active that day. I attributed it to the weather. It had warmed up some outside that day and the sun was shining. It was breezy, but it must have been in the upper 50s to lower 60s--one of those late February heat waves.

  We passed several individuals on our way out to the Lassiter house. Some were in the road, but most were in the fields. They were all headed in the same direction that we were headed, and I presumed there must have been a noise drawing them.

  When I came in with Brian, Sara was sitting in the living room, but Jen wasn't there.

  "She's in the bathroom," she said.

  She looked at Brian.

  "This is Brian Davies," I said. "We drove out to his house this morning. You know--the Porsche.

  "I know you," she said. "You're that Michael Jackson guy."

  "See," Brian said to me, "I'm famous."

  "My church helped with that benefit you did last year. My name is Sara."

  "Very nice to meet you again," Brian said. "If you will excuse me, I need to sit. My ankle is in bad shape."

  "They keep talking about you, but I never realized you were the same person," Sara said.

  Jen hobbled in, and her face lit up.

  "Holy shit!" she said. "We thought something bad happened to you!"

  Brian smiled, "I happened to something bad."

  "Okay," I said. "You two cripples catch up. Sara and I are going to unload the truck. Jen, show Brian your antibiotics. His ankle isn't healing, and I might need to get some more."

  "Let me see it," Jen said.

  He pulled up his pant leg and peeled away the bandage.

  "Ewww. You need to see Travis."

  "The doctor? But I thought he tried to kidnap you."

  "No," she said, "not Travis. He could have kidnapped me, and I wouldn't have minded if you know what I mean."

  Brian looked up at me and grinned.

  "What about it?" he said. "Do you know what she means?"

  "I haven't a clue," I said.

  "Don't you think he needs a doctor?" Jen said.

  "Sure, but he'll have to drive himself. They'd never let me get close to that place again. What kind of medicine did he give you?"

  Jen read the bottle.

  "Amoxicillin," she said. "That's what you got from Wal-Mart wasn't it?"

  "Then it's settled," Brian said. "I'll take that stuff from Wal-Mart. If Dr. Travis is going to kidnap me; I want to be in the best of health."

  Sara and I unloaded the trucks while Jen and Brian told each other about their week. We put the chickens in the stall next to the goat. I threw some food out for them while Sara got them water.

  "I still don't know if I'm going to like this farm-living," she said.

  "Eventually everyone will have to live like this," I said. "It's good that we're able to get a head start. Some of the people are going to realize next winter or maybe the winter after that, that the food supply is dwindling. We're fortunate to be where we are and have these resources."

  "When do we need to plant the garden?" she said.

  "Well....now, actually," I said. "Really, you want to wait until after the last frost, but we can go ahead and start things indoors right now. I got my seeds that were leftover from last year when we were at my house. We'll need to find more, but they will get us started. Blaine has some potting soil in one of his sheds. We can go get that, too."

  "I feel kind of useless," she said. "I don't know anything about any of this. I was just a student that worked in a church. I don't have any skills."

  "I'm just a museum curator," I said. "Brian was just a blogger. Jen was....hmmm....I don't know what Jen was. Did she ever mention it?"

  "Wow," Sara said. "You don’t know what she did for a living?"

  "No," I said. "Do you know?"

  "No, but I'm not the one in love with her."

  "Well, I don't know if I'd go that far. I like her, but--"

  "What are you in the ninth grade?"

  "My point is," I said, "that none of us were really ready for this. We're all learning, and we'll all find our place."

  "Do you just keep me around so you'll have someone to help you unload trucks? Is that my place?"

  "No," I said.

  "It's okay," she said. "I know what my place would be if I was somewhere else. I like you--"

  "We don't have to talk about this--"

  "--but I don't want that to be my place. If I'm going to stay here, I need to be more than a third wheel. I need to learn a skill."

  "We all need to learn some skills."

  We walked out of the barn. Behind the house, on the other side of the fence were three women. Their clothes were torn and muddy, and they were looking for a way to cross over to us. A man came stumbling up behind them. It was that first man Jen had shot--the one in the blue coveralls that had been eating the dog. He snarled at us and rushed toward the fence.

  CHAPTER 43

  The man hit the fence and fell backward. Some of them could be fast when they wanted to be, but they weren't that bright. The wind shifted and I got a whiff of the group or of someone in the group. It was the smell of decay, of a dead body.

  Could it be possible that some of these people were more (less?) than just people with brain damage that were able to survive things that would kill a healthy person? Could it be that they were the actual undead as depicted in movies? Jen and the others had accepted that as a given, but I hadn't been willing to believe in animated corpses.

  I hadn't even been willing to call them zombies the way Jen had. Technically, they weren't really zombies in the original sense. They weren't being controlled by someone else, unless you count the virus itself as a controlling agent, which it must have been.

  Sara backed up against me.

  "Have we been making too much noise?" she said.

  "No more than before," I said.

  "What do we do?" she said.

  "We might not need to do anything," I said. "They might not be able to get to this side of the fence."

  "Do you think they'll hurt the horses?"

  "I don't know. Let's get the food into the house. We'll keep an eye on them."

  We pulled the pickup away from the barn and parked it next to the front porch. When we got out, we saw two more figures walking down the road.

  "We've never seen this many out here before," she said. "What is attracting them?"

  "I think it might be that the weather is warmer," I said.

  "Look," Sara said, pointing to the road on the other side of the driveway. "There's
another one."

  "We need to block the driveway," I said. "We should have picked up a gate while we were at Founder's. I'm going to pull the school bus down there, but I don't think it will be long enough to completely block the entrance. You'll need to follow me down in the hay truck."

  By the time I got down there with the little school bus, the three from the road had made it into the driveway, but they weren't very far in. I hit one of them as I cut the vehicle around. Sara was right behind and parked the hay truck on the other side. We were both facing each other at an angle like the head of an arrow.

  Sara climbed out with a rifle in her hand. I got out, too, and we met in the middle.

  "This isn't going to keep them out," I said. "We'll need to do something else."

  "Too bad we got rid of the horse trailer," she said. "That would have made a great gate."

  I looked down the road in both directions. More were coming. They were in the field across the road, too.

  "What the hell is going on?"

  "Should we start shooting them?"

  "No," I said. "That'll just make it worse. Let's get back to the house. Pack some things to go. We might have to leave soon."

  We both ran back up the driveway. Jen and Brian were on the front porch.

  "Get inside and get your things!" I yelled. "We need to be ready to go!"

  They both limped into the house.

  It didn't make any sense. We'd been careful not to make any loud noises. I didn't understand what was drawing them to us. All this time it had been sound, but now it was evident that sound wasn't the only thing that got their attention. There had been a steady breeze all day; maybe it was the smoke from the fireplace.

  The bus would be our best option at escape. The pickup would need to come, too; it was already loaded from today's scavenging. We could all fit in the pickup. It wouldn't be comfortable, but we could fit.

  Sara ran up on the porch, and I ran to the barns. I wanted to shut the doors both to keep them from using the barns as an avenue through the barrier and to protect the goat and chickens.

  There was a larger group at the fence by that time, and they were pressing against the railing. There were eight, but I could see three more coming in from the back field. They managed to cross the fence back there, and they would be able to cross here, too, when they got enough weight on the rails.

  I shut the barn doors, and headed back to the house just as the mob crushed through the fence. The first few fell into the yard and the ones behind them crawled over them to get to me. I was afraid some of the faster ones would intercept me before I could get to the house.

  I pulled the .45 from its holster, but before I could shoot it, I heard a shot from ahead of me. Brian was standing in the back door with a shotgun. When I got in the doorway with him, I turned to look behind me. Only two of them even stood a chance at catching me, and even they weren’t' fast enough. We could always outrun them. The rest of the creatures were just walking or stumbling or dragging their feet.

  "Why are they here?" he said. "Why so many?"

  "I don't know," I said. "Maybe it's the smoke. We need to leave."

  I holstered my handgun and went to find Jen. Sara was in the kitchen putting food and water into cardboard boxes. Jen was standing in the front window, looking out.

  "They're coming up the driveway," she said. "Five of them. There are more on the road."

  "We're leaving, Jen. Let me help you outside."

  She kept standing there.

  "Come on, Jen. The truck is out by the front porch. Sara, are you ready to go? Everybody in the truck!"

  I swept Jen up, and she looked at me with a blank expression.

  "I don't want to leave anymore," she said.

  Sara, Brian, and I all had our hands full as we ran out on the porch. Sara and Brian put their boxes in the back of the truck and climbed inside. I put Jen in the passenger side and shut the door. I started around, but I was met by a grotesque creature. Its left eye hung out of its socket and its bottom lip was completely missing down to its chin. I pulled the .45 and blew its head open. Another came up behind me. They were everywhere. I backed away, firing. They started closing in. My only recourse was to run back into the house. They surrounded the truck. Sara, Brian, and Jen were all trapped inside it, and I had the keys.

  The windows on the truck began to fog up. I could see the fear on their faces as they realized the keys were not in there with them. Jen looked out at me. She mouthed the word "keys." I pulled them from my pocket and showed them to her. I would need to do something quickly. These things were only trickling in, but the trickle was steady and it would reach a point very soon where there would be no way to do anything.

  Most of the guns were in the truck--the back of the truck. That included the AR-15. I had the .45 on me with two or three rounds left. The guns we'd left with Jen were still by the couch, and I knew that .410 shotgun was still upstairs.

  Come on! Quickly!

  I grabbed the 12 gauge from beside the couch and the box of shells for it and ran back outside. I had no plan except to blow the hell out of everything until I got to the pickup. The creatures were now three deep all around the truck. The trio inside looked worried but calm.

  I lifted the shotgun to my shoulder.

  Make 'em count. Don't think about it.

  I did my best to stay calm. I put the bead on heads only.

  Head shot. Pump out the empty shell. Head shot. Pump. Head shot. Pump. Reload.

  I wasn't able to advance at all, and I couldn't get the weapon fully loaded. I managed to get two rounds into the gun before I was forced to use it again. The first one was off; it caught the woman in the chest just before she got to me. The second shot was point blank in a man's face. No time to reload. I pulled the .45, fired wild, and went back in the house.

  "Shit!"

  I reloaded the shotgun and went out again.

  Head shot. Pump.

  I jumped off the porch and ran out into the yard. Five of them came at me but most of the crowd stayed with the truck.

  Head shot. Pump.

  I ran to the fence that surrounded the front pasture. Once on the other side, I reloaded. They weren't smart enough to climb over the way I had. I didn't have enough rounds to get them all, and if I stayed there and shot them, more would come in to take their place.

  I ran through the pasture toward the road. I reached the partition fence, climbed it, and kept running. I stopped near the road behind the hay truck, took out two of the monsters in the driveway then climbed the fence to the driveway side. I headed straight for the bus.

  A man came around the back of the bus. He was one of the fast ones, and he took me by surprise. I stopped when I saw him, and my feet slid in the gravel. I fell on my butt and elbow. Before I could recover, he was over me and coming down. I tried to roll, but I didn't make it in time. His mouth was right at my ear; his gurgling, clicking breath was hot. He stank, but not like death. I got my right forearm against his throat and held him away. His whole body was hot.

  One of the three in the pickup got on the horn when they saw I was in trouble. It didn't distract him at all. I could see more feet coming in around me. The revolver was on my right hip; I couldn't reach it. I did my best to angle the shotgun around to get him, but it was too long. The best I could do was shoot his leg with it. So I did.

  I had the shotgun up under my left armpit. I pulled it back until the barrel lifted off the ground. I prayed it was lifted enough not to get me instead. I squeezed the trigger and his whole body jerked and rolled off me. I was on my feet as quickly as I could. The blast had nearly taken his leg off just above the knee. He was trying to stand, too.

  Two women were there. One was wearing a flannel shirt and a denim skirt; the other was wearing nothing at all. They came in fast, too. I pulled the .45 and hit the flannel woman in the face. I took aim on the other, but the hammer clicked. I was out. I'd have to reload the shotgun, too. I holstered the .45 and turned the shotgun around li
ke a club. One hit was enough to give me time to get into the bus.

  Once inside, I pulled the lever to shut the door. It squeaked and folded shut, and then the naked woman slammed herself against it. I reloaded the shotgun and climbed in the driver's seat.

  The pickup was completely covered. I got some speed on the bus, and swung in as close as I could, raking them away from the driver's door. I continued toward the barns and turned the bus around in the wide patch of gravel in front of the buildings. I came in close again, so close, in fact, that I took the pickup's side mirror off. I stopped and opened the bus door.

  It had been my intention for the three to come into the bus' door through the truck window, but Sara rolled her window down just enough to get her hand out. She wanted the keys.

  I shot a girl that had clawed up to the roof of the truck and handed Sara the keys. Her window went up, and I shut the door. Up the driveway, a new group was approaching.

  "Where the hell are they coming from?"

  The pickup started up and began to move.

  In my rearview mirror, I watched another group spill into the yard from the back pasture. Several in front of the pickup went down then under as Sara attempted to bulldoze her way through.

  She was crying, and Brian kept trying to take the wheel. The truck had made it no more than its own length when it could go no farther. She tried reverse, but just like the front, the bodies fell and were caught up underneath.

  The creatures were far more interested in the pickup than the bus. I was able to pull away without much trouble, and decided to try plowing them aside like I had before. Sara, Jen, and Brian needed to get in the bus if we were ever going to get away.

  I reversed toward the barns, and then came back, scraping away the ones on the driver's side of the pickup with the front of the bus. There were so many, and they piled up so quickly, that the bus actually tilted as it went over them. That scared me. I didn't want to do that again.

  I decided to try to push the truck out. I backed up again and returned. This time, I squared up the bus with the back of the truck. I didn't hit it hard, because I didn't want to hurt Jen, Sara, and Brian, but I did hit it hard enough to mash the creatures between us. I couldn't actually connect with the rear of the truck, but instead made a zombie sandwich with arms and legs and heads sticking out.