E52

  “Please give me the strength to get through this,” I whisper.

  I can not tell if the babies head is out yet, nor if the baby is coming out as it should. The only thing I can do at this moment is to continue to push and hope for the best.

  “You can handle this,” I convince myself.

  I grasp my legs tighter, draw them toward me and push as hard as I can. I can feel the baby’s head as it tries to come through.

  “God help me!” I scream in my head.

  I feel like I am being ripped in half. He is to big!

  “You can not give up now,” I tell myself.

  I bite my lip, hold my breath and bare down once again.

  His shoulders safely make it through.

  “One more time,” I whisper and then push.

  With one last push the baby is born!

  Ignoring the pain and weakness that I am experiencing I lean forward and scoop the baby up from the ground. He is a large baby, larger than my other son when he was born.

  “Hi there,” I whisper.

  I try to clean him off the best I can, then by pressing my mouth over his nose and then his mouth I attempt to clear his mouth and nose of any fluid that may remain in his system. He starts to cry.

  “It’s okay,“ I whisper to the baby, holding him close to my body.

  Using the only thing I can find, I grab a rock and cut the umbilical cord, cutting it a bit longer so that I can tie it in a knot.

  I am not sure if this is the right thing to do, or if it could cause an infection, but there is nothing else here and I am desperate to keep my baby from the horrible people on this compound.

  “There you go,” I state, taking off the jacket I am wearing and wrapping him up.

  I hold him tight against my body. Not only must I keep him warm, I need to keep him from being heard. His cries are muffled, but I fear if I hold him to close I could suffocate him

  “Please baby, be quiet,” I beg, rocking back-and-forth.

  After rocking him for over twenty minutes the baby becomes silent. He is so silent in fact that I fear that I have killed him. I lift him from my chest and stare at him. It is dark in the area that I am in so at first it is hard to see him clearly. I lift him to a lighted area above my head and look up. His skin is Grey like the other babies I had seen, feeding into my uncertainty.

  “I am so sorry,” I cry. “Please wake up.”

  The baby moves and then begins to cry again. Feared that if I continue to hold him close to my chest that he will suffer brain damage from the lack of oxygen I try feeding him. He does not want my breast milk.

  “Maybe he is cold,” I think to myself.

  Uncovering the baby for only a few seconds I swaddle him best I can with the jacket, ensuring his warmth and comfort.

  “Is that what you need?” I question.

  After rocking him back and forth for a few minutes he stops crying. I look down he is suckling on the jacket, ingesting a spot of blood. He is as I feared. He is a monster like the others.

  “Not my baby,” I scream in my mind.

  I lean my head against the wall and cry.

  My heart is broken, but if I am to heal him I must deal with how he is now.

  “Mommy will take the hunger away,” I state.

  Although I do not want him to be like the others, keeping him silenced is utmost important, and the only way to do that is to feed him what he wants. I rub my finger against a large rock until it becomes raw and starts to bleed and then place my bleeding finger in his mouth and allow him to suckle it like a bottle. My finger becomes cold as he quickly drains it of its blood content. He falls asleep.

  “We can not stay here,” I think in my mind.

  My baby may be a monster like the others but it is my baby and the army can not have him. He will get the medicine that David has and he will get better, I just know it. Until that time I need to get him to a safe area and clean him up.

  Leaning against the wall I use it as a support to help me stand.

  Slowly I make my way to the far end of the building, in hopes that it will have a back window.

  “Thank god,” I whisper, as the light from above shines on the glass, assuring my way in.

  Hurriedly, I open the window and look inside. The building is dark so I have confidence that it is unoccupied. I lower the baby in and set him gently onto the floor and then make my way in also.

  The area is silent, leading me to believe that the building will be safe for a little while.

  “I will look for David first thing in the morning,” I think in my head.

  Holding the baby tightly in my arms I take a few steps. My knees begin to buckle beneath me. The journey I have been on has taken its toll. I need time to rest before I can continue much further.

  “Mommy needs to heal,” I whisper to the baby.

  As I search for the perfect area I begin hearing scuffling sounds. I gasp.

  There is someone in here!

  “We need to get the hell out of here!” I scream in my mind.

  The room is pitch dark so I find it hard to maneuver, but I can tell by the intensifying growling that whoever or whatever is in here is quickly surrounding me! I run as fast as I can, through the crowd.

  Uncertain as to where I am and how large the room is I continue to run. Changing my direction many times I quickly become disoriented and fear that I merely running in a large circle. I can not find another room, hallway or doorway to where I may escape. I am prisoner to this open room occupied of which I fear is the infected. All of which wanting only one thing… Dinner!

  Desperate and scared, my attempt to escape fails me when I slam into a glass wall. The sudden barricade stuns me, but only for a second.

  “The baby!” I scream in my mind.

  With great care I feel around his head for any indication that he has suffered an injury. A far as I can tell the newborn remains in a slumbered state, indicating to me that he has been unharmed.

  The area that I am in now is silent and I no longer hear the others. I lean against the wall and rest for a moment.

  “Maybe if I continue to scoot across the glass I will eventually find a door or a window,” I think to myself.

  Careful not to make a noise I slowly make my way across the glass wall. I do not find a way to escape however I do find a table to my right. The table may not offer very much protection, but it is the only thing I can find. Careful not to wake the baby I crawl beneath the table. The undead remain in the distance, but by their continued snarling indicates that they are still in hunt.

  Remaining silent I keep my breathing to a minimum and keep my legs pushed tightly together. I must keep them from smelling the blood.

  “Hey what is going on in here?” I hear a voice echo through the room. “Are you in here Myrna?”

  The growling intensifies around me.

  Although I know the person speaking I am too afraid to answer him.

  “If you are in here, knock on the glass,” He continues. “Do not speak.”

  The glass wall is about two feet behind me, however there is a chance that one of the Creetions could be standing between me and the glass.

  Afraid that any sound will give away my position I sit and debate then cautiously lean back and feel around. I am able to reach the wall.

  “If I continue to sit here they will eventually find me and the baby,” I think in my head. “But then again if I make a sound I take the chance that they will find me quicker”

  I am doomed either way.

  Feeling that I have no choice I knock three times.

  “Oh shit,” He says.

  A light brightens the area as someone shines a flashlight in the room. For a brief second a mutilated face flashes in front of me. One of the monsters that had been hunting me is only feet away!

  “Stay where you are.” The voice conveys.

  The light brightens as the man turns on the overhead lighting. It is worst than I feared.

  There are over a hundred
children kept hostage within the walls of glass. The children appear to be around ten years of age.

  I swallow.

  Where a youthful complexion should be, their faces are taken over by decaying flesh. Some look as if the others have ripped into their faces leaving skin dangling from their bones and muscles. They are in a frenzied state.

  Afraid to blink, I continue to stare at them in disgust.

  Their mouths, wide open, I can see their rotten teeth and remnants of their last meal. They all stare blankly around the room as they search for the man that has spoken.

  A door coming from the ceiling opens up and four bodies are thrown in. They are the people I had mutilated in the kitchen! Only I know that the poison that I carry inside me I had scratched into their flesh! They could be like the others! I leap back.

  “No!” I yell in my mind.

  My head slams the top of the table causing the table to move. The metal legs screech across the concrete.

  I had left them there in hopes that they would turn into one of the flesh eating monsters and cause chaos within that building. My plan was foiled and now they are in here with me. Revenge could be theirs!

  Crazed from hunger. all of the children but one runs to the middle of the room and rip at the lifeless bodies to shreds. The people never move, nor make a sound. By the lack of the will to survive it is difficult to tell if they were one of the undead or dead. I look away. The children are covered in the blood of the people they are devouring; their hunger remains unsatisfied.

  “Slowly and quietly make your way to the door,” The man states. “Do not attract any attention to yourself.”

  I want to yell out to Bill and explain to him that one of the children have seen me and that I am afraid to move, but knowing that by doing so I will attract the others, I move as slow as I can out from under the table.

  A pool of blood gushes down my legs as I stand. The smell is so potent that I can smell it so I know it will be only seconds before the others do to.

  The boy in front of me tilts his head, grunts and lunges toward the table.

  “Run!“ Bill yells.

  I am out of time. They have all spotted me now! I knock the table out of my way and run toward the door.

  The door opens.

  “Hurry!” He screams.

  As I escape through the door there is a path of children following behind me. They are fast and manage to block the door before Bill can close it.

  “Go! The front door is unlocked,” Bill screams. “I will hold them back as long as I can. Just get in the jeep!”

  Gunshots pierce the silence as Bill proceeds to shoot as many of the children as he can.

  My emotions weigh heavy on my mind, so many lives of children have been stolen.

  For a brief second I stop.

  “Go!” he screams.

  Now that the lights are on I can clearly see that there are two doors to this building, one of which is to the far east of the building, the other only yards away. The muscles in my legs burn and my stomach ache as I run to the closest door. To my relief it is the door that is unlocked and sitting outside is a jeep just as Bill had stated. I leap into the Jeep, close the door and roll up the windows.

  “Hurry”! I scream out.

  Without knowing it I had left a bloody path for the hungered children to follow. The car is quickly surrounded by the children. I panic when I realize that Bill is not coming.

  “Bill!” I yell out.

  Frantic, I lie the baby on the drivers side seat and move about in the jeep and look through every window in hopes to get a glimpse of him. Suddenly I spot him coming from around the building. He has taken a different path than me and is sprinting towards the jeep. There are at least fifty of the children behind him. They are much faster than him so I fear that he will become their desert if he does not get in the Jeep soon. Shooting at the children already surrounding the jeep he tries to clear a path to the driver’s side door. There are two many of them. There is no way for him to get in. He leaps onto the hood of the jeep.

  I pick the baby up and hold him close. If they break the window I want to be able to protect the baby the best I can.

  “Start the Jeep!” He screams.

  The children that already surround the jeep are quickly joined by the others that were following Bill. The lunge toward the hood and reach for him. They are to short to reach him.

  Never losing grip of the baby I make my way over to the drivers side and reach toward the ignition. The keys are not here!

  “Where are the keys?” I yell out.

  Bill looks at me and rolls his eyes. He takes the keys from his pocket.

  “Is there another set?” I ask, panicked.

  John shakes his head indicating that he has the only set.

  “Slightly roll down your window,” he demands. “And I will slip them in.”

  The children are angered and claw at the sides of the jeep. Their sharp nails dig in the paint, leaving deep scratches.

  “They will kill you!” I scream out.

  “Just do it!”

  I crack the window just enough that he can sneak the keys in. The children become frenzied as the smell of blood filters out of the open window. All attention is now on the open window. Some reach through the crack, their little fingers the only thing large enough to fit through the opening. Their growling intensifies.

  “Here,” Bill states.

  Startled, I leap back.

  “Oh my god!” I yell ‘You scared the hell out of me.”

  My attention had been focused on the children outside my window in such a manner that I had not noticed that they had forgotten about Bill, allowing him to enter the car safely.

  There are at least 100 children now and the adults they had mangled earlier have now turned as they. Although most of the flesh of the adults had been ingested by the children the remnants of what remains are fueled by the disease.

  With them all working together their strength is fierce. The jeep is being rocked band-and-forth as they slam into it with the intentions of getting in. I fear that any moment they will break through the glass or turn the jeep over. I begin to hyperventilate.

  “Start the car!“ Bill screams out.

  I fumble for the right key. One after another I stick a key in the ignition in hopes that one will work.

  “What are you doing?“ He yells as the window beside him cracks beneath the power of one of the adult creatures.

  “You have to many keys!“ I yell, aggravated. “I can’t find the right one!“

  Bill rips the keys from my hands and within seconds has the correct key in the ignition.

  I start the Jeep.

  “Gun it!” Bill yells.

  “I can’t there are to many of them!“ I answer. “I don’t want to hit the children!”

  “Do it!” he demands.

  With my eyes closed I slam my foot down on to the gas pedal and cringe as the jeep crushes the bones of the children in front of us.

  Never looking back I head east in hopes of finding the building that my husband is to meet us at.

  Chapter Eight

  We are able to reach the building without any confrontation. Bill said that with so many of the undead set free the army will be to busy fighting them to look for us.

  The building is older than the others and it is evident by the many broken windows that the building has not been used for several years.

  We pull to the east side of the building and park the jeep outside an open door.

  “I will stay here and cover the jeep with some of these loose branches,” Bill states. “You go in and find David.”

  Holding the baby close to my chest I run in the building all the while yelling out David’s name.

  Each room I enter is the same, empty.

  “David!?” I yell. “Are you here?”

  No answer.

  Tiring quickly I sit down on a old crate and rest my weary body.

  “Do you think he gave up on us?” I
look down and whisper to the baby.

  The baby begins to squirm so I pat his little back.

  “Don’t worry daddy will help us,” I say, smiling at the baby. “I am sure he will be here soon.”

  The baby opens his eyes and peers up at me. The lack of pigment in his eyes is disturbing so I find it hard to look at him for any length of time. For a moment I glance away and wonder if once he is given the antidote that his eyes will change colors.

  “I am sure you will have beautiful eyes like your daddy once you are well,” I state.

  Baring the pain of seeing my child in such a sickened state I touch his face, circling his cheeks with my fingertips.

  He starts to cry.

  “Are you hungry,” I ask.

  Although I know that more than likely he will want blood I have to try again to see if he will drink my breast milk. I pull my gown down, exposing my breast.

  “Here you go,” I state.

  The baby is in no way interested in breast milk. I try over and over again, massaging his cheeks in hopes that it will make him to suck. He moves his head away and continues to cry.

  “I know what you want,” I say, disheartened.

  , I pick at the sore on my finger until it starts to bleed and then put my finger in his mouth. He instantly begins to suckling. He is hungrier than before so it does not take long before my finger is drained of blood. He bites down.

  “Ouch!” I scream out.

  I pull my finger out of his mouth and study it. There is tiny bite marks all over the tip of it.

  Cautiously I open his mouth. He has the teeth of a Parana.

  My heart sinks. With every minute that he does not receive the antidote he is becoming more like the others.

  “Where is David?’ Bill asks, walking up to me.

  “I don’t know,” I answer looking up at Bill.

  Bill scans the area around us.

  “I am sure he will be here soon,” He states.

  My body is weak from giving birth causing me to feel as if I can not walk any further. I curl up on the small crate and lay the baby beside me.

  “I think I will look around some more while you rest,” Bill states. “I will holler if I find him.