Into the Badlands

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Into the Badlands Page 9

by Brian J. Jarrett


  When they arrived at the pharmacy counter they hopped over it, their feet landing in plastic pill bottles, scattered paper, leaves, sticks, and rat droppings. To their left they saw the broken drive-through window; a chilly breeze blew unimpeded through the window. Rain and snow had entered the building through it just as well, damaging the woodwork and staining the floor.

  They removed their backpacks so they could move more easily, placing them on the counter. The baseball bat stuck out of Ed's pack like the mast of a ship. Ed had Zach search through all cabinets and drawers for any kind of kind of drug reference guide. He wasn't even sure if one existed, but if it did then it could prove helpful.

  While Zach was searching the drawers and cabinets, Ed and Jeremy were searching the shelves and the floor for the drugs they needed. Since the incident back at the sporting good store Ed was feeling more nervous than usual. It was still fresh in his mind how close he had come to losing Zach. And here they were again, inside another store. It was too similar; warning bells were going off in his mind. He told himself it was probably nerves, but it was still disconcerting.

  After searching all the drawers and the shelves Zach could find no drug reference guide of any kind. They couldn't afford to waste any more time on it, so Ed had Zach help Jeremy search for the drugs they needed. Without a reference guide they were on their own. He was familiar with the penicillin, amoxicillin, Cipro, and Zithromax, as he had been prescribed those in the past. His knowledge went no further than this. It wasn't much, but it was all they had. Under Ed's direction Zach and Jeremy searched for medications beginning with “A”, “C”, or “Z”, then piled the boxes or bottle in front of Ed. He then sifted through what they found.

  They searched this way for around twenty minutes with no results. Ed almost began to give up hope until he noticed a small, white box given to him by one of the boys. He flipped it over, almost ready to throw it to the side, then saw what he’d been looking for: Zithromax. Another box accompanied it in the pile; he grabbed them both. He called the boys over and hugged them, telling them what a great job they’d done. They beamed with pride.

  Ed's nerves were still buzzing. They had been in the store for a while, and they'd been making a lot of noise as they sifted through the debris. They needed to get moving; the longer they stayed put the more exposed they were. They also needed to get back to the girl, provided she was still alive.

  Ed put the Zithromax box in his backpack, then helped Jeremy and Zach get theirs backpacks back on again. As he picked up his own Jeremy reached out a hand and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him abruptly.

  His youngest son's eyes were wide as he spoke. “Dad, I just saw something move at the front of the store,” he whispered.

  Ed’s blood ran cold and all the color dropped out of this face. The warning bells that had been sounding were now a full-blown alarm. His hands were sweating and his body was adjusting to the onslaught of adrenaline as he looked around the store for movement. They had the pills they needed, but now they needed to get out somehow.

  He suddenly noticed movement reflected in one of the cracked surveillance mirrors. Something was in there; what it was he didn't know. Exiting through the front of the store was likely impossible; whatever was in the store blocked the way.

  He turned to inspect the broken drive-through window. Jagged shards of glass surrounded the edges of the window frame, but Ed thought he could lift the boys through without cutting them. Once they and their gear were clear he’d break the shards and climb out as quickly as possible. That was the noisy part. It was also the dangerous part.

  They heard a loud crash as the intruder knocked something off a shelf at the front of the store. The boys jumped but didn’t make a sound. They knew the rules; it's why they were still alive. It was definitely a carrier; a thief wouldn't announce his presence so flippantly.

  Ed whispered to the boys. “Take off your backpacks.” They did as instructed. Once the backpacks were off he glanced back toward the front of the store again. He saw no movement, but could hear some scraping sounds.

  “Follow me to the window. Backpacks go first, then I'll lift both of you out. Once you're out put your packs back on; I'll be coming through next.”

  “Then what?” Zach whispered.

  “Then we run,” he answered.

  The three of them walked carefully toward the broken window. They were quiet, but inevitably some noise was made. Ed wasn't sure if the carrier couldn't hear them, or if it possibly mistook the sounds for rats. Either way all the better; it bought them time.

  Once they made it to the window Ed gently lowered their backpacks to the asphalt outside the window. He then motioned for the boys to approach him slowly. Another loud crash sounded from the front of the store. There was no telling how long they had left before they were spotted.

  Ed lifted Zach first through the window, being careful of the jagged shards of glass that surrounded the edge like a deadly picture frame. The boy was heavier than he'd expected, or maybe Ed was weaker than he thought, but Zach's feet touched the ground gently and safely on the other side.

  Ed then lifted Jeremy through. Another loud sound erupted from the front of the store. It took all of his effort to not jump through the window right then, along with Jeremy, broken glass or not.

  Once Jeremy’s feet touched the ground he joined his brother on the other side. They began to put their backpacks on immediately, as they had been instructed to.

  Ed realized couldn’t make it through the window without breaking the shards around the bottom edge. He asked Zach to hand him the baseball bat from his backpack on the ground outside the building. He quietly did.

  “I’m going to break this glass here at the bottom,” he whispered to the boys. “When I do that thing is going to come running. Once I'm through the window we run together.”

  The boys nodded.

  “Look at me,” he said to the boys, his face becoming alarmingly serious. “If I don't make it out then you run and you don't look back.”

  “Don't say that Daddy,” Jeremy pleaded. His eyes were beginning to tear.

  “You run, and you don't look back. Understood?”

  Both boys nodded again.

  “Stand back.”

  Ed took a deep breath. It was now or never. He swung the baseball bat. It hit the glass with a dull thud, not the sharp sound of a window breaking. He struck again, working to clear a small area he could step over. He heard the carrier scream, and felt goosebumps break out all over his body. The sound was horrific.

  A commotion erupted near the front of the store as the carrier clamored toward where Ed and the boys were making their escape. Ed broke off two more large chunks of glass before attempting to step over the window sill. He swung one leg over the edge, then handed the baseball bat to Zach.

  The thing screamed again from the front of the store and then came into view from behind one of the shelving units. It was female; still wearing the tattered remnants of a dress. The front and the back of the dress were stained various shades of brown or black from untended urination and defecation. He could smell it as it approached. It’s eyes were wild; mad with rage and delirium. It was so emaciated that it looked like a walking skeleton.

  Ed swung his other leg over then tried to jump. He couldn’t. He looked down to see that his coat was caught on a shard of glass. He began to panic, pulling hard to dislodge himself. The thing charged, gaining distance, its right arm hanging uselessly beside its body. The left arm swung wildly in the air, looking for something to kill.

  The carrier hit the pharmacy counter just as Ed came loose from the window. It crawled up onto the counter, then fell off the other side and onto the floor below. It rose to its feet and made one final dash toward them.

  Ed fell to the pavement outside as the carrier rammed its body through the window, catching itself around the waist on the broken glass. Blood appeared where a few of the remaining shards cut into the thing’s stomach, dripping through the darkened fabric of
the dress.

  It reached out with its good arm toward Ed, its long, yellow fingernails inches away from his face. Suddenly Zach brought the bat down on the thing’s head as hard as he could. It wasn’t enough to kill it, but he knocked it senseless. He brought the bat down, hard. The second blow made the thing nearly docile. It lay in the window, its upper body hanging out, moaning in pain and rage.

  Ed took the bat from Zach. He lined the bat against the base of the thing’s neck, then brought it down with severe force. The carrier’s body went limp immediately and the moaning stopped.

  “Good work,” Ed said. Zach nodded.

  “Dad?” Jeremy said, tugging on his father's sleeve.

  “Yeah,” Ed replied.

  “There are more.”

  Ed spun around to see three more carriers approaching from the street. Two of these picked up speed once they noticed Ed and the boys weren’t among the infected. So much like animals that they recognized their own kind. Ed drew the gunk, leveling it on the one in the lead. He tracked it as it ran, breathing in, letting half the breath out then gently squeezing the trigger. The shot struck the thing in the chest, knocking it down.

  The second one continued running, and Ed brought it down with a single shot in the same fashion. The third carrier was too sick to be a threat. Ed left it; better to save the bullets and reduce the amount of gunfire.

  “Follow me,” Ed said to the boys. They ran up the street they had originally come from, staying together, keeping each other within sight. The pharmacy building shrank behind them as they fled. They had a mile and a half to go before they reached the highway.

  Suddenly two carriers attracted by the gunfire appeared on the street roughly fifty yards in front of them. They caught sight of Ed and the boys then dashed after them. One was slow and sick, but the other was fast. It began the chase with a guttural growl, increasing in volume and intensity as it built speed. It chilled Ed to hear that sound. Ed stopped running then leveled the pistol at their attacker.

  Ed fired a shot, but it missed. He struggled to control his breathing, then carefully squeezed off a second shot. That shot hit the thing in the shoulder, bringing it down hard. He fired another shot at the second attacker, bringing it down with a direct hit to the chest.

  The first carrier he'd shot attempted to rise. Ed placed a single bullet in the thing's head, putting it down for good. He counted five shots; his clip held sixteen shots plus one in the chamber. They were doing well so far; maybe they had a chance of getting out alive after all.

  “Dad,” he heard Zach say from behind him.

  He looked backward and his newly-bolstered spirits dropped. More than a dozen carriers approached from behind.

  “Zach, shoot anything that gets close.”

  “Okay, dad,” Zach replied.

  Two more carriers charged from the street ahead of them. Ed shot them both. He counted seven shots in his head. Ed could hear Zach take two shots from behind him and then watched a single carrier drop to the ground.

  There were too many surrounding them; they had to find a place to hide. Carriers were determined when prey was in sight, but they soon lost interest once they lost a trail. He needed a house that wasn’t compromised; they could hide in that and wait for the carriers to disperse. At least they could buy some time to think.

  “Zach, take out as many as you can. Shoot the fast ones first.”

  “Got it,” Zach replied.

  Ed and his son shot as many able-bodied carriers as they could. They managed to kill several of them, but here were still many more left. There was no way to get them all. Ed knew they needed to make a run for it. “Now! Follow me!” he said to his sons.

  They dashed off onto a small, perpendicular side street. Ed searched desperately for a house that was empty. It was so hard to tell from the street, especially while running from carriers. He would have to make a guess and hope for the best. Finally he spotted one that looked viable. It was a small gray house, with no broken windows and a closed door.

  “Over here!” he yelled, pointing the house out to the boys. They ran up the sidewalk then onto the front porch. The top of the door was made up mostly of glass panels so he used the butt of the gun to break one out. He holstered the gun, then reached through the empty panel and unlocked the door from the inside.

  Three carriers appeared at the end of the street, all still in pursuit. Ed shot them all; he wanted none left alive who could have seen where they were planning to hide.

  They rushed inside the house, hoping it was empty. They had little choice either way. He closed the door behind them then locked the deadbolt. He had the boys sit with their backs against the door, facing inside. He wanted them watching the house for movement, just in case they weren’t alone. He also didn't want them to have to see what was outside.

  “Don’t look out this window,” he told them. “Zach, if anything in this house moves, shoot it.” Zach nodded in quick acknowledgment. Ed hoped it wouldn't come to that; they had drawn enough attention to themselves as it was.

  Ed got down on his knees and peeked through the window in the door. It was covered by a decorative, nearly translucent window treatment. He watched closely, being careful not to make any sudden movements. He hoped they had killed any of the deadwalkers who might have seen them go inside. Sometimes things just came down to luck.

  He continued watching out the tiny window. As he expected, they all came running. A dozen showed, then it quickly became two dozen, then three. It wasn’t long until he stopped counting. The deadwalkers rambled about in the street, pacing back and forth. Some limped, a couple even dragged themselves along the road, their legs completely paralyzed by the virus. Ed wondered how they could possibly still be alive.

  Some dashed back and forth from one side of the street to another, slamming themselves off the hoods of cars, screaming at the top of their lungs in anger and frustration. Then one of the deadwalkers broke off from the group, wandering around by itself, eventually choosing the sidewalk leading to the gray house where Ed watched anxiously through the window. Ed's heart raced and he placed his hand on his pistol. The thing approached the door, staring inquisitively. Ed tensed, his pulse rising. Suddenly a fight broke out on the street, and the miserable creature left the sidewalk in a rush to join in. Ed breathed a sigh of relief. That had been way too close.

  The three of them remained this way for a half hour or so before the decrepit crowd began to disperse. After an hour only a couple carriers remained. Those two wandered off after a few more minutes and then the street was empty again, as if they'd never been there.

  The thought that Ed had brought his boys into the middle of this infestation made him ill. He felt irresponsible, almost reprehensible. It had been a close call on that street, and they were lucky to make it out of that whole situation alive. Another part of him, however, felt it had been the right thing to do. And the boys had wanted it. They’d chosen to risk their lives for someone else. The decisions were becoming more difficult to make.

  Although they had successfully evaded the deadwalkers, they weren’t out of harm’s way just yet. Those things were gone for the time being, but they’d be back. Ed and the boys still had some daylight left, and it was highly probable they could make it back to the farmhouse before night fell. They’d have to leave soon, though. They couldn’t waste any more time, otherwise they would have to spend the night in the house and try their hand the following day. That put the girl at even greater risk.

  He decided to give it another twenty minutes and then they would make a break for it. They’d have just as good a chance then as they would the following morning. Carriers lost interest fast, and the idea of spending the night in that house didn’t sit well with him.

  Ed realized he’d been watching the street for an hour. He turned around, sat down, and leaned against the door. His knees ached from kneeling for so long. He looked at the boys; they were both staring into an adjacent bedroom. It didn’t take long to figure out what they’d b
een staring at.

  A body.

  It was small and badly decomposed. It appeared to the be the body of a child, quite possibly around the same age as Zach and Jeremy. He knew why they were staring too. Despite all the bodies they saw this one had been one of their own; another child, one who didn’t make it. It resonated with them. Children could very easily understand mortality, especially when surrounded by death.

  He needed to shut the door to that bedroom; they would continue to stare if he didn’t. Besides, they'd already seen enough. He told the boys to stay put then he rose to his feet. His knees screamed in protest. He slowly approached the small room then entered, gun drawn.

  What he saw invaded his soul, then destroyed him from within.

  Despite the decomposition of the body, Ed could tell it was definitely the body of a child. He assumed a young boy, given the footballs and baseballs on the room's wallpaper. A pistol lay on the bed near the boy's knees.

  The boy had shot himself in the mouth while he sat in bed.

  Ed stood in the room, transfixed and mortified by what he saw. This boy, alone with no hope, had run out of options. He’d gone to his bedroom to finish things, quite possibly to be surrounded by the things that had brought him peace and security. He was still in his pajamas even.

  Ed looked away, trying to process the pitifully horrible thing he had just seen. He couldn't. Beneath the goggles he blinked away the tears from his eyes. He had to regain his composure before going back out to the boys. He had to do it quickly too, or they’d get worried if he was gone for too long.

  He noticed a box of shells on the nightstand beside the bed. He holstered his pistol, then picked up the gun from the bed. The shells matched. There were maybe thirty rounds left, give or take a few. He now had a gun for Jeremy.

  The gun that had taken this boy’s short life would now be used to protect another young boy’s life. This irony wasn’t in any way lost on Ed. He looked around the room and found a blanket. He placed the gun along with the shells on the nightstand, then covered the boy’s body with the blanket. He picked up both the pistol and the shells, then stopped and looked at the shape under the sheet.

 

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