by mike Evans
Shaun shouldered his rifle, holding up his hands. Talon looked relieved, smiling as the blood dripped out of his mouth. Shaun looked over his shoulder. Brandy and Timmy were still not looking, they could not bear it. Shaun pulled his pistol in one fluid movement, pulling back the hammer. “I'm sorry, Talon, it’s for the best.”
He fired one single shot, creating a small hole in the front of Talon’s forehead. His head snapped back, and the path was covered with bits of his red hair and brains intermixed. Pieces of skull were scattered all down the path. Shaun took a deep breath, trying to collect himself, but all he could hear were Talon’s final words. “Don’t, Shaun, please… I’ll be okay, please, don’t do it.”
Don’t do it, don’t do it played on repeat in his mind. He slid his pistol back into its holster and walked over to Talon. He ran his hand over his eyes, closing them, and lifted him on the only spots that he could and let him slide into the water below. Ben and Talon floated alongside, slowly down the tunnel until they sunk down out of sight.
Shaun’s ears finally popped, which was the least of his concern. He walked back slowly, taking Timmy, and motioned for Jay and Brady to lift him up. He didn’t know what to say to make anyone feel any better. He whispered, “The rats carry the virus. Try not to get bit.”
Brandy walked up to Shaun, shoving him, uncaring that he was carrying Timmy. She started punching him in the shoulder, looking like a round of claw fists hammering on him. “Don’t get bit? Don’t get fucking bit? What about Talon? What about Ben? You don’t have anything to say? Don’t you have feelings? What’s wrong with you?!”
“You guys are what’s wrong with me. This is why I tried to stay on my own. I wasn’t trying to get a new crew. There’s a reason why I left the one where I came from. You want to know what is wrong with me? What’s wrong with me is that at some point, I'm going to die, because I put my own life at risk to make sure that others survive. You won’t understand until you’ve done it as many times as I have. Do you think I would have brought us down here if I thought for one fucking minute that I was going to lose someone? It wasn’t my idea to flip the RV, it just happened. You were there, you saw what was happening to it. If we would have stayed up there, we’d have all been killed. If I would have had more time, would I come up with a better plan? No, probably not, we could have gone down, or been eaten. If you don’t like either of those choices, then join the fucking club, Brandy. If you guys think you can do better than me, then pick a path and take it. I'm winging it at this point! A dirty sewer tunnel was the last place I wanted to end up today.”
Brandy just stood there with her mouth agape. “Pick a path and take it, that’s all you can say?”
“He’s doing his best, Brandy. Christ, he’s our age, what do you expect? He isn’t a superhero,” Brady interjected.
She ripped Timmy from his arms and squeezed him until he whimpered. “You’re going to get everyone killed, Shaun. We’ll go our own way. I don’t want you to worry about anyone but yourself if that’s what you want!”
Shaun didn’t say anything. He picked up the gear he’d dropped when running for Talon and watched as they went down the tunnel. She stopped by where he’d fallen into the water, doing the sign of the cross.
“You want us to try to bring them back?” Jay asked.
“No, I don’t know what I want besides getting out of this damn sewer.”
They walked, defeated, tired, and hungry. Each of them hoped that they would see another sunset but were not banking on it. Shaun thought about it and realized they'd been walking for another hour. The last thing he wanted to do was run into another horde of rats or the dead. He whispered to Jay, thinking it would be better if Brandy heard from him instead of himself.
"Hey, Brandy, you two wanna come up with us? We are going to get one of the manholes off here and head up. I know you don't want nothing to do with us right now, but it's about your only chance, unless you want us to leave the crowbar for you and the two of ya can pick out where you want to try to leave from. It's up to you, but we are exiting here. Seems as good as anywhere," Jay called to her.
She watched his face from a distance, thinking that she needed to find somewhere soon, because her back felt like someone had ran hot pokers up and down within her skin from the throbbing in her muscles after carrying Timmy so far.
Timmy whispered, "We need to stay with them, at least until we get somewhere safe. We are going to get ourselves killed if we don't. Talon wouldn't have wanted us to get killed, would he?"
She squeezed him setting him on the ground and rubbing her biceps and back muscles. "No, there's a good chance that he wouldn't have wanted anything to happen to either of us. Just like we didn't want anything to happen to him."
"It isn't his fault, you know. He was trying to save us. I miss Talon too, but there's no reason to blame him for it."
"When did you become such a wise young man?"
"Been smart, must've skipped you," Timmy said as he spun around and started strutting to the boys, who were waiting for them to make up their minds.
Brandy walked to catch up, slapping him lightly upside the back of the head. "No one likes a wise ass, genius."
Shaun went up first, motioning for Brady to follow him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Brandy shook her head no. "Not yet. You and I can talk once we know we are safe. I know it isn't your fault, and you were doing the best that you could, but it is going to take a while to get the visions of Talon floating in that water out of my head."
"They don't leave all that fast, trust me. Those bad dreams turn into demons, I promise. If they don't, you are luckier than myself."
Shaun took the crowbar and handed it to Jay. "You hold onto this, when we get to the top of the ladder, we are going to pry it up. If there's anything up there, I want to be able to shoot."
"You realize I have a gun right, Shaun?" Jay said.
"Yes, one that doesn't shoot on full auto and doesn't have a collapsible stock. If we need it, then it is better to have it and be ready. Now, let's quit screwing around and get out of here. Or did you want to stay down here for the night?"
Jay took the crowbar and grabbed the ladder awkwardly with one hand. Shaun followed him up and the two thin youths were able to both fit onto the slim ladder. Jay pried it up just a few inches. Shaun hit the light on his rifle running it around and saw nothing. "I think it looks good. I don't see anything, do you?"
"Nope, I'll lift it the rest the way off and we are out of here."
Jay put pressure on it but the manhole cover suddenly disappeared. He lost his balance, as he'd been relying on it, and fell to the ground, screaming when he hit; the sound of his bone breaking was a horrible one.
Shaun looked down at him, yet to put the two things together. He felt a hand on his backpack and was lifted off the ladder, making him lose his machine gun when he cleared the cover's hole.
He didn't yell, because if there were not many of the dead, he would not want to give cause for the ones that could be near to rush him. Shaun fumbled for his pistol but The Turned brought down its free hand, smashing into Shaun's gun hand and making him lose it. The gun fell between his feet and into the hole. The Turned brought him up so that they were eye to eye and the muscles in its biceps looked like they were going to explode from his skin.
It growled into his face and the smell of its rank, putrid breath was everything he thought that rotting death would smell like if he ever was forced to smell it. It bent in to bite him and he pulled his knife out as quickly as possible. Shaun threw an elbow into its neck to keep it from bending down and taking a bite. It carried him away from the hole. It spun him around and he watched as two of the dead came from nowhere, leaping down into the sewer hole. The echoes of screams made their way up from the tunnel.
Shaun bucked and kicked, keeping his forearm where he had it. The dead had its mouth stretched further than he knew was possible. He wondered for only a second if these things were changing, or possibly evolving. He bro
ught his knife up, cutting through its mouth and into its cheeks. The blackened blood covered his hand as he sawed back and forth with his razor-sharp knife, splitting its cheeks apart. It was doing its best to chomp, but its jaw was now limp. The monster didn’t know what he’d done and was growing more angry and frustrated by the second.
Shaun removed his elbow, feeling like he’d been suspended in the air for an hour, but in all reality, it had probably been less than ten seconds. The only words he could hear were Clary’s words, screaming in his face while training, “Don’t give up, never give up!”
The echoes from the tunnel subsided. Shaun thought about it for only a moment, unsure if it meant that they’d escaped, or that the dead were too busy ripping their necks out for them to have the ability to scream for his help. Shaun stuck the knife tip up under the roof of its mouth. It tried flexing the muscles in its mouth to bite him, but there were none still intact to be used. Shaun brought up his palm as hard as he could, driving the knife up through his brain stem. The darkness in its eyes faded, and it dropped to its knees.
Shaun shrugged out of his backpack taking his knife with him and dropping feet first into the darkness below. He hit hard and was thankful that he didn’t break anything when he landed. He took the force, bending at his knees as he tried to stay on his feet. He felt around on the ground until he found his pistol. He hit the flashlight on the bottom of it, scanning with it from side to side.
He looked down, seeing Jay on the ground. His head had been torn off, but to his credit, his rifle was on empty. He looked behind him and all around, trying to find the other three.
A scream came from down the tunnel and Shaun did not wait. He took off in a dead sprint. He would not stop until he found them. He looked down the different tunnel paths as he ran, but the echo was not followed by another. When he got around the corner he could hear the dry firing of a rifle. Shaun screamed, “No!” as he ran around.
One of the dead reached in towards Brady, who was standing in front of Brandy and Timmy, trying to protect them. He had his rifle by the barrel, holding it like a baseball bat. They looked more like they were toying with them than actually trying to get them.
Shaun’s yell got one of their attention, and he ran as fast as he could. He jumped onto the wall, gripping the dead by the hair and pulling it down into the water with him. It came up screaming in Shaun’s face. The other dead was focused on watching what his brother was doing.
Shaun placed the pistol up against its skull, making sure the bullet would ricochet down the tunnel and not into the head of the others who were watching. He pulled the trigger once, and its head flew back and it let go.
Brady screamed at the other one, but it would not take the bait. It did not go after Brady. Instead, it seemed almost as if it was backing off and trying to get around him, but he stood in the way.
Shaun watched in awe, unsure what was happening. It was too dark to make anything out in the shadows of the tunnel. Shaun aimed for its kneecap, dropping it to the ground. It screamed in annoyance and frustration that it couldn’t stand when trying.
Brady brought his rifle up as high as he had the reach and brought it down repeatedly into the face of the dead. He did not stop until there were no bones left to break and no brain left to pummel. He dropped to a knee, trying to catch his breath. “Come on, we—we need to get out of here, let’s go.”
Shaun waded out of the water. “You guys okay? Is everyone all right? They didn’t get you, did they? I heard screaming from above. I’m so sorry, I tried to get here faster, but I had my own dead to deal with.”
Brandy had to think about it and realized it was a miracle that she owed them greatly for. She lifted Timmy, who was crying uncontrollably, to his feet. She lifted his shirt and checked his thin legs making sure that, yes, he truly was okay.
Shaun climbed up out of the tunnel. He didn’t want to have to go back by Jay, but wasn’t about to leave any of the limited gear that they had on them. They’d lost so much, so quickly, he was wondering if turning around and leaving would be the best thing for them. His confidence in himself and as a leader was beginning to seriously falter.
He released the magazine in his gun, emptying the water out of his pistol and replacing it with a fresh one. Brady whispered, “Hey, do you have an extra pistol, Shaun?”
“Yeah. You know what you are doing with them, Brady?”
“I can handle it. Just show me where the safety is, will you?” Brady asked.
He showed him where the safety and the magazine ejection were, then helped Brandy and Timmy to their feet. He picked up Timmy in his arms. “Why don’t you hang with me? I think Brandy needs a break. You guys have had a hell of a day.”
Timmy laid his head on Shaun’s shoulder. “You said, the H word, Shaun… You aren’t supposed to say that. It’s bad,” Timmy whispered. Shaun walked down, pistol still at his side with the light out in front of him.
Brandy followed him, giving Brady a hug like he’d never gotten from a girl. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he patted her back. “You’re welcome… I was just trying to keep you two safe. I don’t have anyone worrying about me, at least, no one that needs me for anything. You need to stay strong, and you need to stick with Shaun. It wasn’t his fault what happened to Talon, or Ben for that matter. Things that are horrible just happen; he’s said that before. He didn’t want anything to do with us at first, but I think over time, everyone is going to grow on him... those that are left anyways.”
“You aren't going anywhere, are you?” she asked jokingly.
“You better get on, they are going to get ahead of you,” Brady said.
She walked up, seeing that he was just barely starting to twitch, she turned to scream to Shaun but the deafening echo of the blast erupted from behind her, dropping her to her knees. She spun around, seeing Brady slowly falling to the side. Fresh tears were on his face.
Shaun came running back, gun up, looking every which way that he could. “What happened?! What the fuck happ-”
He shut up when he ran the light down Brady’s shirt. A piece of his shirt and flesh was missing from his shoulder. He leaned against the wall, not realizing he was squeezing Timmy. The poor kid was getting to the point where he didn’t want to whimper when people squeezed him too hard.
Shaun set Timmy on the ground and took the pistol he’d given Brady. He secretly thanked him for having one less person that he had to put out of their misery, and preventing himself from causing pain to anyone else.
Brandy was on her knees next to him. “I don’t understand… We were just talking, then he started acting weird.”
“He was starting to feel the effects of the disease. He would have turned and tried to kill all of us. We need to get out of here. We’ll find somewhere safe and we can regroup in the morning. I just hope we have enough to get us to somewhere that we can refuel at. We can’t keep going at this pace for very much longer. At least, not among the living.”
They collected the gear and looked around before exiting the manhole. Shaun wasn’t sure how many people a person could handle losing in his life. He feared that if these things weren’t killed, that he would not have any reassurances that there would not be more taken from him.
Shaun exited first, looking around in every shadow, hoping the gunfire had not drawn them, or if it had, had been so far away and underground that the dead did not know which way to roam to try to find them.
Shaun looked at the surroundings, not liking the way things looked. He thought of the base, of the dead—much better, the farmhouse. At least it didn’t have a bunch of the dead. And now they were in Davenport with next to no ammo, and were run down and tired with no roof over their head.
Shaun watched the buildings, trying to see if there was any that looked inviting. He ran to an apartment, knocking on the window and—not to his surprise—no one answered his knock. He motioned for Timmy and Brandy and the two ran across the street. They went in the front door of the complex. He tried the knob
, and it was unlocked. He flicked the lights and was not surprised that nothing came on.
They walked through cautiously, checking the rooms and looking everywhere to make sure that they were alone. Shaun let out the slightest sigh of relief when they deemed it safe. He went back to the front door, shutting, locking, and then putting a coffee table at an angle so that they’d need a chainsaw to fight their way in. They made sure that the windows were tight and shut. Then they laid out their gear on the floor and found two containers of fruit preserves from the farmhouse and five different MREs.
“We aren’t going to be well off for long if we don’t get some more food,” Shaun said.
“Can we eat and worry about it later?” Brandy said tiredly.
Shaun shrugged, pulling his machine gun up close to him. He put his pack under his head, happy to sleep on carpet, and didn’t care about the beds that were probably in the other room. “I don’t want to eat, I just want to sleep. I don’t have anything else left to do with today. You two stay absolutely quiet, and if they don’t hear or smell us, we should have very little to worry about. Can we play the quiet game, Timmy?”