Walking back through the hotel entrance, he didn’t give the gawking stares any attention. He was suddenly struck with a desire for a hot shower and that was his entire focus. The shower was where he could lose himself so long as the water stayed hot. For him, a shower usually meant much more than simply cleaning himself. Showering was a retreat from expectations and disappointments. He could be alone with his thoughts and sort out the plans he was always hatching.
Knowing a shower was not in the offing, he asked everyone, “Where’s Kit? Send her to my room with another bottle of...hell, I don’t care, whatever is left down there. And I don’t want to wait.”
With that, Carter walked back up the stairs, went into his room, and shut the door behind him. Moments later, Kit scurried up the stairs with a bottle in her hands. Her demeanor was anything but excited as she made her way to the door. She paused outside and knocked. When the door opened, she stalled in the doorway before entering, not sure what might greet her on the other side. She entered hesitantly and when the door closed everyone in the lobby felt both sorry for her and thankful that it wasn’t one of them who had been summoned. They all believed she was about to face her own battle with Carter and none of them envied her misfortune.
Chapter 50
Jerry and Danny had been sitting on the balcony for quite some time before either of them said anything. For Danny, it felt like an eternity. At his age, silence was exceptionally difficult. He defined himself and developed his ego in relation to the world around him through speech. Danny needed to know that his place in the world and his understanding of that world were within his control. His words were some of the few things of which he did have complete control.
For this reason and to demonstrate his understanding of such mature matters, Danny finally asked, “You thinkin’ about Claire?” He didn’t look directly at Jerry when he asked his question, but angled his head so that he could see Jerry’s responsive demeanor.
Jerry was quiet for a few seconds more but nodding his head. He finally answered, “Yeah. That’s all I’m able to think about when it’s quiet like this.”
Hoping to say something worthwhile, Danny said, “She was brave for us and kept us safe, right up until they took her away.” Danny tried to quell the rising pain in his chest, but was unsuccessful.
Jerry looked ahead. He didn’t fix his eyes on anything specifically, choosing to not see the forest for the trees. He laid his hand on the back of Danny’s neck in a paternal gesture of warmth, support, and love. He knew the boy was trying so hard to show that he cared. Jerry appreciated his efforts.
He was… well, happy wasn’t the correct word, but he felt something positive in knowing Claire had been brave for the children. Perhaps her bravery had helped to save the kids’ lives. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it was enough for him to remember her as she was rather than when he had last seen her on the table of that converted shop classroom.
She had been tortured and murdered viciously by a monster of a human being. The militia had taken her from him and for that he would never be able to forgive them. His raw hatred for the militia would likely become just another festering wound with no cure and no hope to address it, as the militia was left in disarray and under assault by an army of the undead. Jerry could only wish that the undead had done their terrible work and wiped the monsters from the planet.
Sitting next to Danny in the cold, open air, Jerry felt, for that brief instant, some peace begin to settle back over him. He finally looked over at Danny and smiled at the boy. He was about to thank Danny for his astute comment, but saw that Danny was distracted by something in front of the lodge.
Jerry followed Danny’s eyes and saw a woman, or what had once been one before she had turned. She was undoubtedly a zeke.
Moving with a determined pace down the long driveway from the main road, the zeke was partially hunched over like a wild animal. Her head twitched back and forth, scanning for prey to either side, perhaps hiding in the trees. The infection driving her actions could sense food near to her, making her incensed with wrath. Like a hunting shark, she propelled herself forward.
Jerry nodded to Danny to ready his rifle while he did the same. “It’ll be easier to get her from a distance before she gets up to the door. We won’t have an angle then. Might make it so that we’d have to go outside to deal with her.”
Danny looked down his rifle’s narrow barrel, trying to line the iron sights on his moving target. He fired but the bullet hit the pavement behind her, skipping off into the forest. His second shot fared no better. Correcting his posture a bit and holding his breath this time, Danny’s third shot hit the woman in the abdomen.
“Nice shootin’, Tex,” Jerry said. He pulled his own trigger and brought the target down. Jerry had the benefit of a hunting scope and knowing his rifle, but there was more to it than that.
Jerry was finding that he felt more and more in his element over the recent days. After the initial shock and fear of the apocalypse faded, he started to get comfortable in his new role. If it hadn’t been for Neil, none of them would still be alive, but Jerry also acknowledged his own contributions. If asked, he would likely admit that his new confidence was a result of his recent but tragically brief romantic relationship with Claire. Somehow, he felt more like a man and more comfortable in his skin.
Jerry said, “That was a great shot. She was movin’ pretty fast!”
“Thanks,” Danny replied. “I think playing video games may have helped. Don’t tell my mom though. It was just like on a game, only louder.”
Looking back out in the direction from which the zeke had come, Jerry said, “And thanks for what you said about Claire. You’re right. I can’t stop thinking about her. I wish there was a way for me to be able to—”
Danielle burst through the patio door at that moment. She looked at both Danny and Jerry and then out toward the trees. “What the hell are you two shooting at?” she demanded.
Pointing toward the body on the driveway, Danny said, “We got one. I shot her. Jerry got her in the head, but I shot her too.”
“It’s okay,” Jerry said. “There was only one of them. Sorry. We should have come and said something, but it just happened. There was only the one, so I think we’re okay for now. I sure as hell hope Neil gets everyone back here before it gets dark.”
Danielle looked down intently at the corpse, trying to determine if she knew the person. There was no use. It could have been anyone.
“What are Betsy’s and Mia’s plans for tonight if the others don’t make it back before it gets dark?” Jerry asked.
“It hasn’t come up yet,” Danielle said. “I think we’re all just planning on—”
“It’s always good to have a backup plan. You never know what could be thrown your way these days.” With that said, Jerry twisted himself around in his chair face Danielle. He smiled at her and pointed out, “I guess I don’t have to tell you that we’ve got plenty of room. Do I?”
Danielle, momentarily distracted, asked, “How did you know?
“How did we know what?”
“How did you know she was one of those things? How could you be certain? How do you know that she wasn’t comin’ here for some help? Maybe she was in trouble.” Danielle was nearly in tears by the time she had finished. Her experience in this new world had been very limited. She hadn’t seen the wholesale slaughter and unimaginable atrocities that had become commonplace for Jerry and Danny for several months now. She didn’t know...yet.
Jerry stood and then led her over to his seat close to the iron brazier containing the warming flame. She sat, her eyes still glancing on occasion out at the mystery body.
Warming his hands over the fire, Jerry tried to think how best to begin. He knew that all of this was new for Danielle but it was important that she be informed. If she had any hope of surviving in this brutal new world she would have to know everything about it.
“The first thing you need to understand and accept is that thos
e things... they may look like people and maybe even people that you know, but they aren’t people. Not anymore. You have to believe me when I say that. It starts with the bites. Anyone who gets bitten turns. Anyone. They become one of them. Once that happens, there’s no coming back.”
Danielle nodded her understanding. “Yeah. I saw that happen with a…friend.”
“Once they’ve turned, there’s only one way to stop them. You have to destroy the brain. You can shoot ‘em in the chest, cut off an arm, or even chop ‘em in half and they’ll keep comin’ at you. There’s no stopping them other than a shot to the head. If you don’t, they will kill you and eat you without even a thought. If you get bitten, then you’ll do the same. It’s a shitty reality, but it’s what we’ve got.”
“How do we tell, though?” Danielle asked. “For sure, I mean. How do we know for sure if someone has become one of them?”
“It’s in their eyes,” Danny said. “They don’t look human anymore.”
Remembering Kameron, Danielle knew to what Danny was referring. She’d seen wild animals at sea and on land whose eyes didn’t harbor such hunger.
“You can tell. Trust me,” summed up Jerry.
Chilled by Jerry’s and Danny’s words, Danielle couldn’t control her goose bumps. She wrapped herself tighter in the blanket draped over her shoulders, seeking more security as well as warmth. Jerry could see Danielle shiver and rubbed her shoulders in an innocent gesture to help her warm up.
Whether he knew it or not, Jerry’s touch warmed her deeper than she had been in a very long time. Like most guys, he was oblivious to her behavior. He didn’t think anything of it when she laid her cold cheek against the top of his hand, nuzzling it softly.
Of course, Danielle did not know anything about Jerry’s very recent heartbreaking loss, which would help her to better understand his obliviousness. She hadn’t necessarily thrown herself at him, but she had already changed direction on her pledge to herself to keep her distance from him. She couldn’t stay away, which she knew was the better option for her to pursue. She rationalized it to herself by suggesting that she found him interesting. She found him strong and quiet, smart but reserved, and young but mature. He had also survived several months on the road battling those things day in and day out. She could only imagine what he had seen and survived in making it to Whittier. She wanted to hear what he had to say.
Chapter 51
“One more house and then we have to head back. Okay, Neil?” William knew how quickly the light disappeared this time of day and how dark the enveloping trees could make it. “We can always come back out tomorrow.”
Neil couldn’t remember for sure how many houses they had searched. Most had been empty, thankfully. The most recent house, a mini-mansion, had been the scene of a recent and still winding down battle.
There were bodies in the yard, some with trauma to their heads and others with ghastly wounds on other parts of their bodies. One of those hurt began to twist and move as William approached it. Neil wanted to tell him the only merciful thing he could do, whether this person was already the undead or would shortly become so, was to put it out of its misery with a forceful blow to the back of its head.
Neil stepped up next to the man and did it for him. He brought his bat down with a furious swing onto the back of its skull, crunching bone and brain. Neil was no Babe Ruth. The process was not a clean, single swing that dispatched it. The thing’s arms shot out in opposite directions from its sides several times and it eventually stopped moving after several stomach turning impacts.
Neil whispered to Emma, “We’ll probably see some action here.” And to Jess, “Stay calm and remember to breathe. Don’t waste ammunition and don’t shoot unless you have to.”
Jess loosened her tight grip on her firearm. She was beginning to think that perhaps she had made a mistake in coming along. She didn’t think it would be like this at all. She thought it would be just a nice walk to meet the neighbors. Who could have known it was going to be this hard? Did Neil? Did Emma? Personally, Jess had no idea and regretted her ignorance.
She looked at the two of them again leading the rest of them into certain trouble. She was awed at their fearlessness. Emma still had her assault rifle, but Neil was only carrying his bat at the moment. He’d holstered his pistol and his jammed assault rifle was left with a pile of bags they’d filled with supplies and then hidden off the road. Neil wasn’t necessarily armed well and yet there he was in the front as usual. Jess hovered between appreciative awe and bewildered doubt watching Neil.
They hadn’t even reached the front door when they heard a gunshot from inside. The five of them dropped to their knees and listened, wide eyed and breathless. Neil was the first to get back to his feet.
“Someone’s coming,” he said.
Jess’ vision faded out to black and then slowly back into focus. She had certainly made a mistake leaving the lodge. She should have known better. But how did he know someone was coming? She couldn’t hear anything. She heard the footsteps from inside the house, growing louder.
“It sounds like only one of ‘em,” Neil said. “Hold your fire. Maybe I can bring it down without making a lot of noise.”
Emma heard him, but reserved her opinion. If one of those sons of bitches came running out of that house, she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t pump a few rounds into it just for fun. With each progressively closer footstep, she felt her heart rate increase. Raising her rifle, she peered down her barrel, bringing the doorway into her sights. It would be so easy and quick. She concentrated on her stance and her breathing, again hearing Dr. Caldwell’s ghostly voice in her ear. It was similar to the voice of a television on in the background as sleep gradually overtook her.
Jess may have been crying, but she was slowly backpedaling toward William and Gordon trailing behind. She couldn’t find enough spit in her mouth to swallow, which solicited a bit of a gag reflex in her. Jess looked at the two men now flanking her, their eyes no less frantic than hers. This was new for all of them.
The footsteps were in the front room and about to burst through the front door. Everyone in the front yard jumped when they heard another gunshot just as the front door was thrown open, threatening to come off its hinges.
Neil saw what was happening and shouted, “Noooooooooo!” just as Emma pulled her trigger. It was a man; a living man and not a zeke. The man’s eyes were stretched wide with fear and surprise. He didn’t expect to see Neil and the four people with him in the front yard.
The man running out of the house flung himself down off the porch as Emma’s bullet hurtled past his shoulder and into the forehead of the ghoul chasing him out the door. Realizing she had just saved the man’s life, Neil tried to settle himself down again. He had been deathly afraid that Emma had unknowingly shot the man by mistake, an error he had dreaded would eventually result from their hyper vigilant actions.
He looked over at her and asked, “How did you know?”
Emma said, “He had a gun. Zekes don’t carry guns.”
“Glad you noticed that.”
From the ground and still trying to find his breath, the man who’d run from the house said, “Thanks. I’m Abdul Manneh.”
Chapter 52
With a voice that still harbored a hint of French but was heavily influenced with his adopted Jamaican, Abdul explained to them that he was the last person still alive in the house. Everyone else was either dead or had run off. When he spoke, his words resembled summer, even if the words belied a nightmare.
“When you say dead,” Neil asked, “what do you mean exactly?”
Emma and Jess stepped apart, revealing the body of the woman who had been chasing him. Emma cleared her throat and directed his eyes to the body. With an edgy humor in her voice, she asked, “Dead like she was or dead and not-getting-back- up dead?”
Abdul knew exactly what she meant. He’d seen it happen before, but he still didn’t understand it. Dead was supposed to mean dead, but it didn’t any longe
r. Dead could mean something tragically and horrifically different these days. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically. He didn’t know with any certainty which of the several bodies he had seen were dead permanently or not.
The sounds coming from inside the house answered that question for all of them. An inhuman noise echoed from somewhere within the big empty house. William hesitantly asked, “So, now what do we do?”
“What do you mean?” asked Emma.
“Do we need to go in there after them or what?”
Abdul looked at each of them hoping for someone to shake their heads. He knew they had to deal with them or possibly face them again some other time out of their control. He didn’t want to admit it, but they were right.
“How many do you think are in there?” Neil asked. “What should we expect?”
Abdul stood up, looking each of them in the eye. His skin was very dark, much darker than William’s, which made the whites of his eyes look iridescent. He held his head forward slightly, so that his words were directed toward his audience’s feet. “Ya know, I always hated guns. Seems like sometimes I can’t t’ink of a time when ‘dey wasn’t around. Doesn’t mean I got to like ‘dem though.” He held out the pistol in his hand, as if measuring it with his palm. His smile was uncomfortable and forced. Abdul’s eyes filled with tears as he focused them on the silver automatic pistol in his hand.
Emma guided Abdul’s hand to his chest, closing it around the pistol. “We do what we have to, Abdul. It’s as simple as that. You can’t punish yourself. If I was one of those things, I’d want you to put me out of my misery too. Think of it as being merciful. Wouldn’t you want the same?”
Abdul knew the woman was right, but he found it difficult to dismiss the guilt he was feeling. Shooting people was not something he had ever thought he would be forced to do, regardless of the circumstances. He knew, deep down, he had no choice but to shoot.
Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 4): Resolution Page 29