I’ve had about enough of Hell for a lifetime. Maybe this new pile of crap will land on someone else’s door.
For a week we waited and prepared for ransacking lunatics and tourists. Both Undead volunteered to scout the ruins of the condo encampment; Forrest was gung-ho to lead them to the location until Chase pointed out how weak everyone would be if we separated.
Daemon and Bubba both continued to press the matter until Sunny stepped in and admonished them about unnecessary risks and tossed a few grimaces their way. Cal thought it was hilarious; he stood behind her pantomiming her scolding for almost a minute before she realized. The elder vampire may heal quickly, but that slap must have been painful; the mark was visible from five yards away.
All three signed up for extra sentry details immediately once their quest was canceled. I noticed that not only had they begun to battle train daily, but the whole community had also taken to practicing more thoroughly for combat. Forrest even cleaned and checked the working condition of all the firearms accumulated in the locked chest. The growing hamlet of Nova Nocte was ready and equipped to defend; we simply lacked an assailant.
The daily grind made the meager relaxation periods more satisfying. Most evenings without work, I just joined in the talks around the fire, played board games, or listened to Cal’s story hour with the tykes.
Six days after our hillbilly wanderer’s arrival, I passed the time playing cards with Daemon until we were supposed to sit guard. Even with preternatural speed, he was horrible at sleight of hand.
“Stop cheating! I can see you bottom-dealing, Daemon.”
He grinned as he shrugged like a toddler covered in paint.
“What, I’m not cheating, I’m just lucky tonight.” He denied as I reached for the deck. The young vamp pulled the deck up over his head and teased.
“Oh you want the cards? You want to see what’s coming up next for your hand, huh. Who’s cheating now, Squirrel?”
I grasped after the blue bicycle deck causing the already played cards to swirl around the blanket of the small cot. He smiled sweetly as he continued to hold the stack beyond my reach. I matched his laugh and tried to climb over him to grab the cards.
“Come on Daemon, you just don’t want to admit I caught you again.”
I lost my balance and nearly fell off the bed; firm hands gripped me as a shower of spades and hearts cascaded around us. Daemon looked into my eyes as he caught me, his smile changed as his cool lips grazed mine gently.
Without a thought, my hands wrapped around his shoulders and my mouth found his. His kiss was gentle but passionate. His left hand wrapped in my hair and his fingers massaged the back of my neck; his skin warmed against mine. The right hand slid from my back to my waist, rubbing softly as our lips parted.
Slowly, Daemon brought me over the cot, our embrace continuous. The tips of his hair tickled my cheek as he trailed butterfly kisses along my neck and ear. The vampire’s fangs scraped teasingly along my taut flesh with each touch of his lips.
We shouldn’t be doing this. I need to stop us.
My brain tried to force my thoughts outward, but all I could comprehend was how much I wanted Daemon.
Almost as though he heard my concerns ricocheting through my mind, the vampire abruptly stopped. I felt him inhale deeply and his body tense. I turned my head to face him. Our eyes met even as our faces pulled away.
The longing to be together like this was visible, but I could see him struggling with his control already.
Cal was right. We couldn’t be together, at least not now. I didn’t want to die — even in his arms — and he didn’t want to kill me.
“We…we can’t. I’m sorry, I want to. Desperately, in fact. But, I can’t risk…” His words tapered off as his eyes went to every corner of the room. He eased his hands away from me. Daemon stood and went to the doorway. “I think I’ll go help Cal until my shift; I need more training anyways. From now on, I don’t think we should spend time alone together. It’s just too tempting.” In a blink, I was alone.
CHAPTER 13 AUGUST 11th-31st YEAR 1
The shouting woke me.
“Strangers and Dead, everyone inside!”
Pulling on sneakers and buckling my sword to my side, my legs carried me into the bright day before the sleep dust fell from my eyes. Running towards the gateway, camp members clamored inside the glimmering wall. They huddled near the tower and checked who was still missing.
A frantic bellow pierced the air as I reached the entrance. The two guards and myself quickly scanned our fellows for infection as they approached. Looking towards the sound, I found its source. There were eight or nine people running from several dozen zombies.
Half of the zombies appeared to be infected very recently and kept a close pace; rigor mortis hadn’t even set in to make their movements slow and jerky yet. One had a rucksack on its back and a rifle dragged the ground behind another, the shoulder strap knotted around the creature’s wrist.
I noted a familiar pattern of blue, green, and yellow on the shredded shirt of a young female corpse. My mind whirred as I tried to process the clusterfuck of bad news stampeding towards us.
I heard orders being given before I realized they were pouring out of my mouth.
“Slide the gate shut until only one person can fit through. Get three or four people on the tower with bows and slingshots. No guns, it will just make things worse. Big stones only. If your aim sucks, start grabbing the stockpile of arrows and stones, you are going to cover ammo for the shooters on the platform; use the pulley system, it’s faster. Anyone who comes in had better be clear of infection.”
“The four of us,” I pointed at the guards, Sunny, and myself, “are going to funnel the living inside and cut down the ones who are infected if they make it past the gate. Someone let the vamps know what’s happening and get the kids in their cabin with the parents.”
Every muscle in my body tensed as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. My vision focused on the humans closest to the fort.
“Strip! Show no bite marks!” The first sentry began to shout at the fearful runners.
Clothes peeled off without question as the first three reached us and were admitted. Randolph stood a few feet behind our entrance gauntlet tossing spare clothes at the survivors. Small rocks began to fly and arrows were loosed. Cadavers dropped like anchors at port, giving the next few people a chance to draw near. A frazzled man carrying a small boy ignored the instructions and I pushed him back.
“Please, you have to let us in! Don’t do this!” He yelled over the repeated directions to show us they were not infected with the Z-bug. I realized the child wasn’t moving.
“Is he dead? Is he going to reanimate?” I shouted at the crazed guy as I pushed him away for the third time. “Either show us you’re both clear of infection or keep running from the fleshies.”
“No, you have to let us inside. My son is sleeping, he isn’t dead, he’s my son. Please help us, help my boy.” He ranted as he continued attempting to shove his way past me; I pushed him back with a kick. The boy stirred, opening his eyes and tilted his face up towards his father.
I stepped back, unsure of what to do next. The child dug its crooked teeth into his distressed father’s neck and tore a chunk out while his small hands clawed at the man’s eyes and cheeks like a rabid animal.
My blade cut right through the small cranium and into the dying guy’s collarbone. Kicking the remains off the sword, I swung it around to ensure they wouldn’t rise again, before punting the corpses clear of the pathway. The archers and shooters were blotting the sun intermittently as they rained down a more permanent death on the progressing cadavers.
Only one of the recently deceased still pursued the newcomers. Its more decrepit counterparts flowed towards the encampment like a tidal wave of stench and low groans. The noise was so guttural, I wondered if it was merely the continuation of the infected’s death rattle escaping the cracked lips.
In the minutes that felt li
ke years, two others made it to the gate, the man with a German Shepard at his heels. Another stranger with visible bites tried to force her way in, only to be met by Sunny’s spear.
In a single thrust, she shoved the spearhead through the woman’s temple and out the other side. A gush of blood flew through the air and a squelching sound marked its abrupt removal. Sunny’s face was set in kill mode as she hastily harpooned the body in the chest and dragged it out of the gateway.
The last of the recently turned gained on a woman and boy. The kid was around ten or eleven years old and practically carrying the woman against her will. I assumed it was his mother; she kept trying to push him to leave her and run. I felt a shove from behind as Chase dashed out towards the pair.
Sunny and I shouted after him, while I held her back from pursuing her husband. He was yelling to the strangers as he approached and they hurriedly tore off their shirts while fleeing. Chase reached the pair and hacked at the zombie with his ax. After a few strokes on the mangled remains, he looked over the family.
They grabbed their belongings and dressed in mid-run. A mass of other fleshies was stumbling after the trio from the edge of the forest. Chase realized the danger; they could be cut off from the camp and engulfed completely in a mass of ripped limbs and gnashing teeth.
Sunny was frenzied as she dropped her spear and reached for her husband, screaming at us to let her go. The sunburned warrior lifted the woman, nudged the boy to run, and sprinted for the gate. The boy galloped just ahead of them, looking over his shoulder to see that his mom was still close.
He turned to his side as Chase came up next to him and was suddenly gone. Chase had passed the child and was yards from the gate when he noticed. The boy had tripped on one of our snare traps, taking out his ankle.
Chase thrust the mother to me and bustled away before Sunny could grab him. The groans of the Dead grew as the towed their rotting bodies closer, the reek of decay and filth invading our nostrils. Having untied the rope from his foot, the kid was crying and limping as best he could, only to fall and drag himself forward on his elbows.
In one swift movement, Chase slid in the dirt, scooped up the injured boy, and flitted back towards the gate. His ax fell from his hip while he leapt to his feet. The archers were trying to aim for the zombies in his path. An arrow grazed Chase’s right shoulder as the shot came to close.
The thin red streak dripped as Chase set the boy on his good leg and helped him reach the wall. Two fleshies clamored after them. Chase handed the boy to me to be shuffled in to safety. Hearing the corpses at his back, he drew his Bowie knife and turned.
A broken jaw missing several teeth wobbled and bit down on his left hand as the skeletal zombie stumbled from the side of the wall and latched onto the limb.
Chase brought the blade down, leaving his hand to the moaning fleshie and retreating within the gate.
I heard Sunny screaming behind me as her spouse bolted past. She picked up her spear and rushed after him to the fire pit; hastily, a burning log was lifted and the bleeding stump was cauterized to the soundtrack of Chase’s agonized yells. I slammed the gate closed and the guards barricaded the steel frame, while I ran to assess the situation with my friends. The dog circled around them, sniffing Chase every few moments; his owner watched intently with furrowed brows.
Five yards from the couple, Sunny reared on me with her spear aimed at my throat. I dug my heels in the dirt and threw my arms in front of my chest to halt my stride. The canine growled low, his handler flinching. Randolph and Bubba raised their weapons slowly. Sunny looked around with her head and hands unwavering; her nose flared as she addressed us.
“You are not going to hurt my husband. He cut off the arm immediately; there wasn’t time for the blood to pump the infection through. Chase is okay and I’m not letting any of you kill him.”
The amputee whimpered as he cradled the charred stub of his forearm to his chest. He rocked gently as he sat by the inflamed trench. The smell of his burnt flesh reminded me of overcooked pork chops; the sight of the jagged ash-covered sear at the end of his arm transformed my stomach into a trapeze artist.
I could see the others taking small steps forward in my peripheral vision as I choked down the rising bile. I had to intervene or this would get vicious.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.” Everyone paused and her eyes studied me for signs of trickery. “If he isn’t infected, of course Chase will be fine. All we have to do is get the vamps to check him first.”
I was suddenly surrounded by blank stares. The twang of arrows and pfft of stones flying over the chorus of moans receded into the backdrop. I could hear every tiny sniffle from the distraught amputee and the sharply held breath from Randolph; my heartbeat grew steady and calm, no longer attempting to erupt from my chest.
“What are you saying, Squirrel?” Sunny lowered the tip of her weapon a fraction of an inch, just enough for her muscles to relax.
“Simple test for all our sakes. If he’s clear, we patch up that arm and do our best to prevent regular infections from killing him. If not…Chase will die either way; our way is less painful, quicker, and allows the man some dignity. We get Cal or Daemon to take a few little sips and see if they taste Z-bug. Those two can taste death in the blood, remember?”
I held out one hand with the palm up and used the other to wave Bubba and Randolph away.
“Will you lower the spear and the two of us can get him over to the coffin cabin?”
It seemed eternity that my arm hung there, trapped in apprehension, waiting for a reply. Chase drew himself up gingerly, ambled to us, and set his remaining hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“We have to try it. Squirrel’s right, Cal and Daemon will be able to tell if I’m…they’ll know if my blood is tainted. I don’t want to die that way. I can’t risk hurting you or the others and I don’t want to end up like Kyle. If I’m going to die, I want it swift and painless.”
With that, Chase walked past her and headed towards the second cabin. Randolph let out his breath before sprinting to help elsewhere – I don’t think he wanted to witness the results if Chase wasn’t cleared. The stranger and his dog followed the three of us to the vampires’ quarters. I stopped the new guy at the door to the building.
“Why are you following us? Go help with the arrows or get water or something; this isn’t your business.”
“I’m a nurse, if that man isn’t infected, I can take care of his wounds before checking on Jordy’s ankle. Besides, Sindbad here can smell infection overtaking the body. This is where we’re most useful.” He answered confidently as he made a gesture and the canine sat at attention.
“Fine, it’ll be nice to have a medic on hand and a trained pup could be handy. However, if Chase isn’t given the A-Okay, you leave. Take care of that kid and leave this to us if it goes that way; Chase is a close friend and we’ll handle it ourselves.”
I entered the sparse room without waiting for a reply. Both vampires’ eyes shone bright red at the amount of blood covering our patient. I assume the scent of it set them off. Daemon stood with his back against the far wall; I could see the risen hunger was pushing him to the edge of his restraint.
Cal leaned over Chase and nipped his neck. The Roman held the sanguine fluid in his mouth a moment as though critiquing a fine wine, while his protégé shifted uncomfortably with his back against the wall. Daemon’s sharp fangs were pressing into his bottom lip. Sunny’s chest heaved as she awaited her spouse’s fate. I could hear her panicked wheezing from across the room. The nurse behind me strode over with his dog, watched the animal’s motions, and smiled.
“Not infected.” Cal declared with a smile as he calmly eyed they state of the young vampire across the room. Daemon had tears rolling down his cheeks as he kept his back pressed to the wall, wringing his hands, and his gaze fixed on the floor. The couple hugged tightly and wept. The nurse agreed while drawing himself erect and giving out directions.
“I think it’s time I took care of M
ister Chase. I’ll need some medical supplies or at a minimum: clean rags, painkillers, and sewing items. I may need to redo that cauterization and the pain of stitching and cleaning of that wound will be excruciating.”
He gazed at Daemon before continuing. “First, we should move the patient to another building; it would be unwise to add more blood to this environment given that those two are already struggling to keep their fangs to themselves.”
Our new medic took hold of the injured limb and began a precursory examination of the extent of damage while aiding Chase to his feet. All gazes converged on me as the stranger repeated his directions.
“The guy’s a nurse, do what he says. Get Chase and that boy into the main cabin and help him patch them up.” I turned to the hungry Undead before continuing. “As soon as night falls, we need you two outside. Daemon, I’m your donor tonight, so just find me; Cal, yours was scheduled to be Chase so tell Sunny to do it instead. Any problems?”
Even the dog’s head shook. I gave a firm nod and hurried out to defend the perimeter; it pained me to see Daemon so distressed. The only sounds were the intermittent muffled screams from Chase, the noise of projectiles cutting the air, and that horrible moaning from the zombies assembling around our steel walls.
The children stayed in the secondary cabin with Ellen’s Mom; soon the boy with the sprained ankle and his mother joined them, a torn shirt wrapped the limb. Randolph kept everyone fed, filled the canteens, and loaded stones and arrows into the pulley-buckets for the rest of the day. Every hour or two, he would jog over to the cabin to check on Michael and Bobbi.
The Dead kept coming. They didn’t climb, but they could easily walk over the mottled remains and reach up the side of the wall. It was like being in the middle of an ant mound. Most of the fleshies were long since infected and easily destroyed, but the few who weren’t threw themselves at the gate with the force of a meth addict looking for a fix.
After The End Page 10