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Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen

Page 3

by Gregory Solis


  Jack had parked his truck on a hillcrest road so that they could observe the town and decide on a course of action. The taller of the two women, Veronica had suffered an injury earlier at the hands of a coward during a fierce stand off with the undead. Her wound had begun to seep through her bandages. Even though her injury was from a less-than-lethal shotgun round and not from contact with the dead, she had expressed her desire to change the dressings. The undead were spreading from some sort of infection and precautions had to be taken.

  Tony walked to the back of the big Chevy to rejoin his friends. Veronica sat on the open tailgate with her shirt pulled half-way up while Jack attended her. Nikki, stood with her posture tense; arms drawn tightly across her chest, as if trying to hold in all the tragedy of the past couple days. She made a few nervous nibbles at her thumbnail; quick bites that might go unnoticed. Even in the dwindling light of the retreating sun, the shape of her silhouette and the subtle outline of her blonde hair caught Tony’s attention. He couldn’t help but form a warm yet invisible smile for her that was hidden by the lessening light. Jack rustled his way through a small canvas bag.

  “Do you have any more gauze?” Jack asked.

  Tony reached in his pocket and pulled out a small rubber coated flashlight. He put his hand over the lens and clicked the ON button twice. A small thin halo of light formed on the skin of his palm. It switched from bright white to a dim red with the second click. He pulled his hand away and directed the red lamp over the side of the truck into the bed. Next to a tie-down strap that secured Jack’s motorcycle, was a small first aid kit. Tony retrieved the kit and tossed it to the rear.

  “One left” Tony said.

  “Shine that over here” Jack said as he opened the plastic field dressing pouch. Tony moved around the tailgate, closer to Nikki. He directed the light onto Veronica’s left side. As Jack carefully pulled the dressing free it became apparent that it had absorbed a considerable amount of fluid. Veronica’s jaw tightened as she let out a small strained moan. Her skin stretched away from her body and snapped back as the bandages came free. The wound was four inches in diameter from just above her hip. Tony’s red flashlight distorted the several shades of bruising and reflective sheen of puss but there could be no doubt that this was a very painful injury.

  Veronica took a deep breath and then three more small huffs as the waves of abdominal pain subsided. She looked up at Jack.

  “Wait,” She pleaded.

  Jack nodded. Veronica looked like she was going to be alright but he certainly understood her agony. He liked Veronica and found it uncomfortable to see her this way. Jack wondered if she could have any internal injuries.

  “What does your medical training tell you about this? Is it worse than it looks?” He asked.

  “I think it’s gonna be okay” She whispered, “But if I pee blood, I’m in trouble.”

  “Yeah, nobody likes that.” He said. She managed a weak smile. Jack searched for something that might provide her some relief. He found several packages of painkillers in the first aid kit.

  “Aspirin or Ibuprofen?” offered Jack.

  Veronica hesitated a moment and answered.

  “Ibuprofen; four. Aspirin will thin my blood too much.” she said with a pained exhale. Veronica felt like she had been shot in the stomach, which in fact, she had. Luck was on her side as the shotgun blast that she had endured just hours ago, was not steel or lead shot, but rock salt; a less-than-lethal shell used to frighten and annoy. Her injury felt like hell and was becoming stiffer by the minute. Standing was difficult and moving around sent wincing pain throughout her body. Jack handed her four large pills which she quickly swallowed with some water from his canteen.

  “All we have is rubbing alcohol.” Jack apologized as he held up a small plastic bottle from the kit. Veronica exchanged the canteen for the less than ideal antiseptic.

  “Let me.” Veronica said holding the alcohol. She looked towards Jack and took a few deep breaths to steel herself. When she was ready, Veronica made one smooth motion with her arm and poured half of the bottle over her wound. She made a loud hissing sound as she inhaled in reaction to the searing pain. Her side blazed as the alcohol washed over her exposed nerve endings. She gripped Jack’s arm and waited. Once the shock had settled all that was left was the persistent deep itch of a soft mountain breeze rippling over her hypersensitive wound. Jack approached to wrap her with the field dressing.

  “No,” Veronica exhaled with her arm raised, “just wait.”

  Wanting to change the subject, Jack made an observation.

  “Its kinda funny. That punk who shot you, he couldn’t tell the difference between a salt-rock shell and a real one.”

  Veronica waited and lifted her eyebrows while shaking her head, impatiently not seeing the connection. Jack answered her confusion.

  “He ran the ammunition plant. You’d think he’d know better.”

  Breathing heavy, Veronica tried to smile.

  “Here’s to ignorance” she mocked.

  For a moment, Veronica saw Lance in her mind. She remembered yelling at Nikki to shoot. She recalled his angry smile as he laughed and then the small bloody hole where Nikki’s bullet found him; his legs buckling as if suddenly rendered useless. She watched him fall, once again, into the arms of ravenous ghouls. The image was foggy, surreal, somewhere between memory and dream. Veronica pictured his skin catch on the sharp edges of broken wood as he was dragged roughly out of the shack. Her mind conjured an image of his body extruding through the wall like sausage from a horn. Why didn’t he put up more of a fight? She thought. Veronica now wondered if Lance wasn’t partially paralyzed from the gunshot. Spinal damage could do such a thing. She clenched her fist at the thought of being so helpless before those hungry things. Veronica knew first hand how resilient the human body can be; the determination and strength within that can be brought to bear towards that one mortal cause, to stay alive. What sort of hell did he endure in those last moments? She wondered just how long it took for Lance to die; to give up the ghost under the tearing and ripping of undead jaws.

  She put her head down and tried to force the image from her mind.

  Tony put his flashlight on the tailgate and picked up the first-aid kit. Freeing a packet from the kit, he put two aspirins in his mouth and swallowed with a swig from Jack’s canteen. He didn’t know if the aspirins would help his headache but anything was worth a shot. He looked at Nikki who appeared to have run out of fingernails to bite. She dropped her arms and approached Tony with some haste.

  “Can I see your binoculars?” She asked with an impatient tone.

  “Sure” Tony handed her the field glasses. She accepted them without thanks and moved quickly to the front of the truck. Nikki’s emotions were not unnoticed by the party. Veronica lifted her head towards Tony.

  “Stay with her.” She suggested.

  Tony nodded. He aimed the beam of his flashlight towards Veronica and left it sitting on the truck bed for their benefit. He turned to join Nikki, another urge for a cigarette nagged at his mind.

  “She’s worried about her parents” Veronica said to Jack.

  Jack nodded as he stretched the gauze dressing. She raised her arms so that he could wrap her midsection with the long bandage. His proximity made her feel strange. He was only bandaging her wound, but somehow it felt intimate to receive his care. The slight pressure of the wrap caused her to clench her teeth. She tried to distract herself from the pain by watching him work. She had only known this man for two days but she felt in her heart that she could trust Jack Mason. As he moved his arms around her for another pass, Veronica spoke.

  “It’s lucky that you guys brought so much gauze to a paint-ball match.” She said needing small-talk.

  “That’s not luck, that’s Sanchez.” Jack laughed, “He always packs first aid in his gear.”

  “Why’s that funny?” Veronica asked.

  “Its not, I guess. It’s just what he does.” Jack said shaking his head. �
��In matches or camping, whenever someone got hurt, he’d spring into action and patch ‘em up. The man goes overboard on first-aid.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. I am glad for it.” She said quietly.

  “Yeah, he carries a lot of gear actually. I have to remind him to travel light in our matches but he never listens.”

  Jack sensed her distraction and paused his wrapping to look at her.

  “I’m just really scared,” she whispered.

  “Me too,” he whispered back.

  “What are we gonna do?” Veronica asked, her head shaking just a little.

  “We’re in bad shape; you’re injured and we’re all exhausted.” Jack said while making another pass around her midsection.

  “We need a safe place to sleep, ammunition, more guns” he continued. Veronica’s stomach tightened with apprehension. Jack noticed as he passed the gauze from one hand to the other, almost hugging her. The near intimacy felt as if he were letting his guard down. They were safe for the moment but things could change in an instant; he needed to keep that fact in mind. He suddenly had a feeling of dread; as if a rotting ghoul could leap from the brush and attack at any moment. Jack’s defensive instincts told him he was being careless by leaving his sword in the cab of the truck. Mason knew that nothing was behind him but still felt an unreasoning sensation of fear, the same fear that made him leave a light on at night as a child. He hurried to secure the ends of the bandages and free his hands.

  “You’re not thinking about the plant?” She asked.

  “Maybe; I don’t know. Whatever we decide we’re gonna need bullets.”

  “What about Nikki’s parents?”

  “Don’t know. We got three rounds left in one shotgun and there could be a whole town of those things down there,” He countered. She sat in silence, looking at Jack for a moment.

  “Are you worried about your mom?” She asked.

  The small flashlight was gentle, only enough to illuminate half of Veronica’s face. Her features appeared darker in the crimson monochrome. He could see the honesty in her gaze; the understanding and compassion in the pleasant contours of her face.

  “Yeah. My stepdad’s pretty cool though. He takes good care of her. I’m figuring they’re okay.” He said.

  She could hear the hesitation in his voice as he spoke.

  “Would you want to come to Berkeley with us?” He asked.

  “Berkeley?” she almost stuttered. The thought of a large city shook her agoraphobia. “You heard what the radio said about San Francisco; Berkeley is awfully close.”

  “Give it some thought, our place is pretty secure. Tony and I have guns and maybe a couple thousand rounds each.”

  Veronica frowned and shook her head. Even outside, just the thought of returning to a large city began to provoke her anxiety.

  “And hundreds of thousands of dead cannibals.” She said.

  Nikki Howe stood at the rocky edge of the curved mountain road. She leaned her knees against the scraped galvanized metal of a guardrail, grown rusty with years. Tony, finally catching up with the young lady, took a seat on the metal rail with his back to the town.

  “You okay?” he asked, and instantly regretted speaking.

  Nikki gave no acknowledgement.

  “Sorry. Dumb question” he added as he watched her lift the binoculars to her eyes. They looked too large for her small face as she scanned the town from right to left. She settled on an area in the south-west and spoke.

  “I can’t see my house from here.” Nikki almost pleaded.

  Tony stood, turned, and looked over the town. It would be a nice view if the top floor of the tallest building in the vista wasn’t smoldering. Tall was an overstatement at only five stories but aside from the rooftop crucifix of a nearby church, it dominated the skyline.

  “Where’s your place?” He asked.

  Nikki pointed without looking away from the binoculars.

  “Over there; Poet’s Corner.”

  Tony followed her direction and saw a concentration of homes clustered among many trees. The neighborhood was close to the far end of the ammunition plant’s storage yard. The homes were too distant to differentiate one from another especially since the neighborhood seemed to have suffered a power outage. A car with only one headlight emerged from the neighborhood at high speed. It swerved around a corner, recovered and headed north.

  “There goes Jakob Dylan,” Tony said.

  “Who?” Nikki asked impatiently.

  “Bad joke,” he apologized without elaboration, “Looks like people are getting out of there.” She mumbled an acknowledgement.

  “What would I do if I was surrounded by those things?” She asked.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, without a gun.”

  Tony took a deep breath before responding. He considered for a moment what Mason might advise, then reconsidered because Jack’s first instinct was always to fight. Jack would prioritize his foes, hit the weakest or smallest first and send it into the largest, clearing a way, or depending on how mad he was, just bring maximum violence as fast as he could. One never could tell what Mason was going to do. Tony wanted a different strategy for Nikki; something safer.

  “Well, don’t get surrounded to begin with; evade and escape. Always get the hell away. Keep your back to a wall where you can limit your opponent’s attack, but also don’t get boxed in without a way out. Climb over stuff like fences or throw crap behind you to trip them up. Keep your wits about you and stay light on your feet. They’re not faster than us, but I’m a little worried that they don’t seem to get tired.”

  “No, if anything they seemed to get more energy when they were coming at the shack.” Nikki said.

  “Yeah, seeing us does seem to pep them up some” Tony agreed. A silence fell between them as they both considered the new realities of their lives. Nikki felt the empty pistol in her pocket. Her entire body felt weak. She took a breath and resumed looking through the binoculars and spoke again.

  “How hard do you have to hit them, to… you know?”

  “Actually they seem to take a blow to the head harder than a living person does. Maybe because they’re dead; their brains might be mushy or something. I don’t know. I stomped one pretty good yesterday. I don’t think a living person would have gone down that easy. Their bodies can take a lot more punishment then the living, but you’ve seen that already.” Tony said. She made no acknowledgement and continued looking out towards her home. Tony bumped her slightly with his shoulder.

  “What’s with the questions?”

  “I have to get home.” Nikki said lowering the binoculars and turning her head to look directly at Tony, “I’ll go alone if I have to.”

  “No, we’ll come with you,” Tony said lifting his hand across her back and resting it on her shoulder. “At least I will. There’s no way I’m gonna let you go alone.” he finished.

  “Sanchez,” Mason’s voice gruffed from a distance

  Tony gently squeezed her shoulder then tuned to join Jack leaving Nikki alone on the ledge, peering into the distance. Her parents were somewhere out there, somewhere too far for her to see. They must be insane with worry. As far as they knew, Nikki was supposed to be back from the lake last night. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d stayed out without prior notice. Even at twenty-one, her parents wanted to know her business as if she were still a minor. Things weren’t always great at home. Her father, who was kind and loving when she was a child, seemed oppressive in her teen years. He was quick to anger when she would get in trouble. He would hold a grudge, sometimes not talking to her for days. He never said as much but Nikki knew that he was disappointed in her lack of direction. Nikki showed no interest to continue the family tradition and become a teacher like both of her parents. She supposed that he was even more disappointed in her interest in leaving the area for college. Nikki didn’t know what she wanted to do, she just knew that she didn’t want to teach and she sure as hell didn’t want to stay in Whisper.
She had spent so many years wanting to get out from under her parent’s roof and their rules. But now as she saw the blacked-out area that was her neighborhood, Nikki felt a terrible longing for home.

  Mason stood about twenty yards away from the guardrail shining a path on the dirt with the red flashlight for his friend to follow. Tony recognized a look of tired resolve in his friend’s posture. As he neared, the stark image of Jack’s grimace shadowed in dull red was disconcerting.

  “She okay?” Jack asked nodding towards Nikki.

  “She wants to get her parents.”

  “Then what?” Mason asked.

  “Don’t know.” Tony said, “Maybe hole up with them until morning. Find out more of what’s going on.”

  “I’d feel a lot better if we could get some ammo first. What’s that plant look like…?”

  Gunfire crackled in the distance like popcorn dropped in hot oil. Rapid pops and blasts echoed from the ammunition plant. Jack’s ears told him that the weapons fire was coming from a number of different weapons. Tires squealed and more shots fired. He dashed parallel to Nikki and reached for her binoculars. She fumbled with the strap and hurried to give him the glasses.

 

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