The Left Series (Book 1): Leftovers

by Christian Fletcher

  The zombies moaned and started in my direction. I heard Rosenberg yelling something inaudible from inside the RV. The way to the passenger door was now blocked with a stream of zombie campers.

  I made for the RV side door. I had to put down one of the baskets to open the door. I tried the handle and found it locked. I banged the door. My panic levels began to rise.

  Rosenberg must have seen me trying to get into the RV in the side mirrors in the cab. He flung the side door open with a look of panic and relief on his face.

  “Brett, we got to…” he stammered.

  “I know, let’s go,” I cut him off, loading in the shopping baskets. I handed Rosenberg the dog and made for the cab.

  “You found him,” Rosenberg shouted. “I thought we’d never see you again,” he cooed, cuddling Spot.

  The zombies surrounded the RV and began slapping and clawing at the windows. I jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed the transmission into drive. I gave a quick look to check the cab side doors were locked. Rosenberg, being ultra cautious, had already locked them.

  “Hang on, Rosenberg,” I yelled, flooring the gas pedal.

  The RV lurched forward, knocking several zombies out of its path. One zombie previously banging the wind shield disappeared from view completely. I realized he must have gone under the wheels when I heard a crunching of bones. The rattling sound of breaking crockery crashed from the RV living space as we sped up.

  I kept going, accelerating faster as the RV departed the Pavilion Square. I didn’t slow the RV when we came to the speed bumps. The vehicle jolted as we drove over them and the exhaust scraped over the tarmac. I looked in the side view mirrors and saw a few zombies who were hanging onto the RV, fly off onto the roadside and roll over and over like they’d tumbled out of a huge washing machine.

  Rosenberg staggered through the door into the cab and sat in the passenger’s seat. He still cuddled Spot, who looked a little more at home now. I didn’t know what the little guy had gone through since we left him.

  “Where did you find him?” Rosenberg asked.

  “In the store, by the cash till,” I winced as the RV lurched over another speed hump.

  I looked in the side view mirrors. The zombies still gave chase but dropped a little further back. I was just glad these bastards couldn’t run. The main attacking element a zombie had was surprise. Someone could easily be paralyzed with a combination of surprise and shock at the sight of a zombie, especially if they had known them in their past life. Getting away from the undead was fairly easy if you had a weapon to hand and a decent getaway vehicle.

  “I think we are going to get away with it this time, Denny,” I laughed as we passed under the campsite welcome sign for the last time.

  “Thank Christ for that,” Rosenberg sighed. “I don’t know why you went back in that store to get a load of booze but I’m glad you did.” He cuddled Spot and stroked his head.

  “With all we’ve been through over the last day or so, I sure could use a drink,” I said.

  We caught up with the others by the woods, five minutes later. Smith and Eazy had already started digging Donna’s grave. They were stripped to the waist digging the soil. A large mound of earth was piled by the hole between two trees on the edge of the woods. Donna’s bloody remains lay covered in blankets next to the hole. Batfish and Julia were cleaning the mess inside the VW. I stopped the RV behind the camper and cut the engine, blowing out a relieved sigh. I felt exhausted and in need of sleep.

  “You made it back in one piece then, Wilde man,” Smith called out.

  “Look who we found,” said Rosenberg, holding up the pup for the others to see.

  “That’s great,” Smith said with a hint of sarcasm. “Did you get the booze?”

  I walked around to the side door of the RV and retrieved the two shopping baskets of beer, liquor and cigarettes. I held them up slightly and saw Smith’s face break into a big grin.

  “Atta boy,” he said.

  I noticed an empty bourbon bottle on the ground by the hole. Maybe they’d decided to hold Donna’s wake early, even before she was buried. I handed Smith and Eazy a can of beer each and took one for myself. I looked around to offer Rosenberg one but he was busy talking to the girls.

  “How deep are you going to go?” I asked pointing to the hole.

  Smith and Eazy must have dug quickly as they were already up to their waists inside the hole.

  “A couple more feet ought to do it,” Eazy said.

  I noticed that both Smith and Eazy’s upper bodies were covered in tattoos. Smith had a large American eagle etched across his back. Eazy had a series of small tribal markings around his arms and on his chest.

  “Good cartoons,” I said pointing to their tattoos.

  “Huh, we already had this conversation,” Eazy smiled at Smith. Not only did they compare hand guns but tattoos as well.

  “Smith here, had his done when he was in the Marine Corps,” Eazy gestured to Smith with his beer can.

  I was surprised. I couldn’t imagine a reprobate like Smith taking orders in the Marine Corps.

  “A long time ago,” Smith sighed.

  We spent another hour under the shade of the trees, digging the hole, drinking beer and talking about our lives. Rosenberg briefly came over to see how we were getting along. Batfish nipped over to grab a beer each for her and Julia. She seemed like she didn’t want to spend much time near Donna’s corpse.

  Eazy went over to the VW to tell Batfish when we decided the hole was dug deep enough. A dead body in a shallow grave would be like the smell of steak on a barbecue to a zombie. My guess was we’d gone about four feet deep into the ground. Not an easy amount of earth to be dug up by animals or zombies.

  I saw Batfish shake her head. She didn’t want to participate in her friend’s burial. Eazy strolled back over, shaking his head.

  “She don’t want to see Donna buried. She just wants us to do it quick and get it over and done with,” he said.

  We took hold of Donna’s body and maneuvered it into the hole.

  “Does someone want to say any words?” Smith asked.

  “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust or some shit like that,” Eazy said, shoveling the earth over Donna’s blanket covered body. “See ya princess.” He blew a kiss.

  Smith and I had nothing more to add so we started shoveling the earth back in the hole. The sun dipped and we finished filling the hole as the light faded to twilight. It had been another hell of a day where I’d seen death in several ways.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Will Batfish be okay about spending the night here?” I asked Eazy. I thought we would all benefit from a decent night’s sleep or at least a few hours each. “We could sleep in the RV. It’s pretty solid and all the locks on the doors work.”

  “Yeah, sounds good,” Eazy said, lighting a smoke.

  We carried the shovels and baskets of booze back towards the vehicles. Batfish looked shattered and agreed to spend the night where we were parked. Rosenberg worked out how to use the shower in the RV and we all took a turn. The shower wasn’t very powerful or warm but I felt a hell of a lot better after a good wash. We moved our gear inside the RV for the night.

  Rosenberg locked the doors and checked them every ten minutes. We kept the lights down to one lamp in the living area and drew the interior blinds and curtains. The inside of the RV seemed cozy and I felt reasonably comfortable sank into an arm chair. Smith opened a bottle of bourbon and we all took a drink.

  Eazy rolled a joint and passed it around. The zombies and world troubles seemed a million miles away for a while. I enjoyed the light headedness from the booze and marijuana provided. No need to go outside again tonight.

  Batfish cooked a rice dish on the RV stove, using the contents of the cupboards. I doubted whether the owners would ever need or eat rice again. We ate and Rosenberg volunteered to wash the dishes. He may have felt guilty about not helping us dig Donna’s grave.

  My phone bleeped and I sa
w it was low on battery power. I plugged the charger into the electric socket in the RV. We might as well use the facilities at hand. Rosenberg explained that RVs usually run on different batteries. One runs the vehicle and the others power the living quarters.

  Almost immediately my cell phone bleeped a text message. I saw the message was from my dad in New York. He wanted to know if I was still alive and where we were. I texted back telling him we were okay. I really didn’t want to go into great detail about my shitty day. I’d told him earlier there were six of us before we met Kell and Julia. There were still six of us, although we’d lost two of our party.

  I looked at Julia and she still remained quiet. The incident with the gang had hit her hard. Seeing Kell blown to bits like that wasn’t easy to erase from your mind. Her bubbly personality had disappeared. I hoped it was only a temporary lapse.

  Smith, Eazy and Rosenberg talked freely. Rosenberg suggested we take turns on keeping watch although I doubted whether Eazy or Smith would be capable of taking a shift. They had started early on the booze and already started to slur their words.

  The two girls retired for the night and slept in the bunk beds. I was happy to sleep in the comfortable chair. My eyes wouldn’t stay open and I couldn’t concentrate on what the others said. I found a blanket in one of the cupboards and sat back down in the arm chair. I covered myself with the blanket and let sleep take hold of me. Rosenberg could wake me if he wanted me on guard watch.

  I dreamed of Donna. She was alive and talking about me to the others, sitting inside the RV. They all talked like I was dead.

  “I’m going to miss him,” said Julia.

  “He was a cool dude,” Kell said. Kell? He was supposed to be dead as well.

  “So long, Wilde man,” Smith said, raising a glass of bourbon.

  Then I was in the ground. Cold and alone. Like I was the one buried in the hole. I felt the damp earth all around me. The light was pale like moonlight. I saw myself like I was floating over the top of my own body. The ground was so cold, I felt myself shiver.

  I awoke, still inside the RV and thankfully not dead. The lights were off and the interior was in darkness. Smith, Eazy and Rosenberg snored asleep in the arm chairs. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep. I picked up my phone and looked at the time, 3.22 am. Something seemed wrong. The inside of the RV felt cold, like we were outside.

  I moved over to the lamp and turned it on. The RV side door stood open. Pale moonlight shone in through the open door. It made sense of my dream but it didn’t make sense why the door was open. Spot sat on Rosenberg’s lap looking around, with his ears flat to his head. He also sensed something was wrong. I checked on Batfish. She slept quietly in her bunk but Julia’s bed was empty.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I shook Rosenberg awake. With the amount of booze Smith and Eazy had sunk, I doubted whether we would be able to wake them with any ease.

  “Julia’s gone,” I whispered.

  Rosenberg looked confused. It took him several seconds to realize where he was and what was going on. I pointed to the open door and Julia’s empty bunk. Rosenberg moved Spot out of the way, stood up and rubbed his eyes. Spot stayed in the chair and I couldn’t blame him.

  “Where did she go?” Rosenberg asked, still slightly confused.

  “I don’t know,” I said searching for the flashlight in my rucksack. “I woke up and saw the door open and she was gone. All her stuff has gone as well.”

  “Why do you think she went, like that?”

  “I don’t know, Denny,” Rosenberg’s questions started to grate on me. “We better go and look for her. Get the keys from the ignition. We’ll lock the door from the outside.”

  “I don’t think going out there is such a good idea, Brett,” Rosenberg stammered. “The whole place could be crawling with zombies.”

  “We can’t just leave her out there,” I hissed.

  I found the flashlight and reloaded the Beretta ammo clip. Rosenberg went through to the cab and took the keys from the ignition. We stepped out into the night, shivering. Rosenberg secured the door.

  “Hang on, Denny,” I said. “Put the keys on top of the front wheel, just in case.”

  Rosenberg gulped and did as he was told.

  “You never know. If we lose each other at least we can get back in the RV.”

  We looked up and down the road. I swung the flashlight left and right and saw nobody. No Julia and no zombies. We crept over to the VW and shone the light through the window. She wasn’t in there either.

  “Where the hell is she?” Rosenberg hissed.

  “I have no idea,” I sighed. “Let’s have a look in those woods.”

  “Ah, Christ, Brett, do we have to?”

  “We have to make some sort of effort to find her,” I said. “We went back for Spot didn’t we? I think she’s gone a bit gaga after what happened yesterday at the garage.”

  Rosenberg kept pace as we headed towards the woods. I figured Julia may be by Donna’s grave. I shone the light over the mound of earth covering Donna’s body. The earth remained untouched in a small heap.

  I sighed and shone the light through the trees. I couldn’t work out why she had run out on us like that. Surely it was safer with us than trying to get by on your own.

  “Julia?” I called out in the darkness.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to draw attention to ourselves, Brett,” Rosenberg whispered.

  I ignored Rosenberg and carried on trudging deeper into the woods, calling Julia’s name. Rosenberg stayed about two paces from my side. I was worried for Julia. She may have had her own reasons for leaving but she was without any weapons or a vehicle. How far did she expect to get? What if she stumbled back into the campsite and came across several of those camper zombies?

  Maybe she’d just given up. The situation did look hopeless, I had to agree. Not for the first time, I wondered if we were doing the right thing. Why not just head into the mountains and hole up there until this nightmare was over? I wondered how many non infected people were left in the world, diminishing in number by the second. I thought of the suicide guy in his truck, outside the gun shop in Brynston and wondered if he’d had the right idea. Get out of this mess while you still can. Dying was a better option than turning into one of those lousy, shuffling corpses of the living dead.

  “Julia?” I barked again, under the canopy of the trees. My voice echoed slightly around the tree trunks.

  “This is really creeping me out, Brett,” Rosenberg stammered.

  I was more frustrated than scared. Was one night’s sleep too much to ask after all we’d been through already?

  “What was that?” Rosenberg whispered.

  We both stopped dead in our tracks and listened. I heard the trees rustling in the breeze overhead but nothing else. Rosenberg was hearing things. Then a heard it, a sob then a slight sniff.

  “Julia?” I called out again, swinging the flashlight to the source of the noise.

  The flashlight beam caught a huddled figure sat at the base of one of the tree trunks slightly to our right. I took a few steps forward and breathed a sigh of relief when I recognized the figure as Julia.

  “Julia, are you okay?” I said softly.

  Julia didn’t respond. Tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth in a hunch with her knees under her chin and her back against the tree trunk. Her baggage was on the ground near her feet. I bent down and put an arm around her trying my best to be of some comfort. Rosenberg crept over like he was treading through hot coals.

  “Okay, Julia,” I whispered.

  “No its not,” she sobbed, shaking her head. “Everything’s fucked up. Everything is so bad in this world that the dead have come to life.”

  “It’s a virus, that’s all.” I tried to sound like I knew what I was talking about. This disease was no ordinary flu and maybe nobody would ever find a cure. My aim was to just try and get her back to the relative safety of the RV.

  “Where do t
hink you were going to go, Julia?”

  “I don’t know,” she sniffed. “Anywhere but here.”

  I sighed and looked at the trees above. The night wind blew through the leaves, I heard a faint moan as the moon shone between the branches.

  “Come on, Julia. We have to go,” I whispered.

  “They’re coming through the trees,” Rosenberg hissed. “I can see them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Quick, we have to move,” I hissed.

  Rosenberg did an impression of a wobbling jelly. “Brett, they’re coming, I can see them through the trees.”

  Rosenberg was right. I looked up and saw a balding zombie, in a white shirt ambling through the forest in our direction, followed by more murky figures.

  “Julia, we have to go,” I hissed. “They’re coming through the woods.”

  “Let them come. I don’t care anymore,” Julia sniffed.

  I glanced through the trees. The zombies were ambling closer, around thirty yards from us. An owl hooted his disapproval amongst the treetops as the moonlight gave our position away. I thought for a brief moment how lucky flying animals were. They could just fly away from all this trouble. Maybe fly to a deserted island and get away from all this mess.

  “Come on, Julia. We have to go now.”

  The zombies moaned and wailed, making their way steadily closer. They had our scent and wanted feeding. My worry was they’d follow us back to the RV. I was seriously considering knocking Julia out and carrying her back to the vehicle. Rosenberg stood ready with his club but the numbers of zombies grew all around us. We were going to be surrounded if we didn’t move quickly.

  I pulled out the Beretta from my waistband and cocked it. The click-clack sound seemed too loud in the night. I looked back through the trees and tried to estimate how long it would take us to get back to the RV. Not for the first time I wished Smith was with me. What would he do in this situation? Probably just leave Julia to be ripped apart by the zombies.