Love & Decay (Season 1): Episodes 1-6

by Rachel Higginson

  I mentally tabulated the remaining weapons we had and knew it wasn’t enough, not unless we made each shot count and made each pull of the trigger into a kill shot.

  Vaughan stood up first and we all followed suit. We shouldered our packs and tightened the straps as a unit. Checking our guns and clips, the sound of metal clicking into place was the only noise to break up the tension.

  “How many are there?” I asked, hoping if I got enough answers I’d be able to control my fear a little bit better.

  “I can’t tell,” Vaughan answered. Which meant more than he wanted to admit out loud.

  “Well, do you think we have enough weapons?”

  “Reagan, there’s no way for me to know that.” Which meant no.

  “If we engage are we going to bring Feeders from every county over here?” I bit out, frustrated that I wasn’t getting the answers I wanted.

  “That’s always a chance, but it’s better that way than sticking around as easy bait,” Vaughan countered. “So to answer your question, I don’t know.”

  I had a hundred more questions but I refrained from spouting them all; my curiosity was just an extension of my fear of trying to grapple back some semblance of control. My anxiety always felt easier to control when I could manage the panic that threatened to take over.

  “What do you know, Babe?” I snapped, tired of the truth. I just wanted to be lied to, pacified. I would fight no matter what, but if I felt I had a chance and a choice I was much easier to get to agree.

  His voice raised a few decimals and I felt him look at me through the blackness of the room. “I know we’re going to survive this, I know we’re going to survive a lot of things. Yes, this is scary and yes, we don’t have enough bullets. But you just heard our sob story, Reagan. What makes you think I would,” he paused suddenly, cleared his throat of whatever emotion was brewing there and continued, “What makes you think any of us are willing to let go of something we care about? Whether we’re protecting Page or you and Haley, we are committed and willing to do anything to ensure everyone’s safety. We already lost people we loved deeply; we won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I believe you,” I whispered weakly, just before a giant, muddy rock came sailing through that lone, grimy window.

  We stared down at it and back at the gaping hole in the window. A few streams of water came rushing inside and the cold night air filled the cabin in no time. As one, we swung our guns toward the now open window and Nelson was the first to point and aim and shoot.

  But the rest of our gunfire immediately followed. The popping, rushing sound of guns filled the tiny barn as we pushed the door out with a mixture of shoving and shooting the wood.

  We could see clearly now how the Feeders spread out in a single line along the entire horizon. They looked greedy, insane with hunger and brain-lust. They were crazed with the idea of a feast. We were like Golden Corral at lunch time for them- all you can eat.

  This was going to be an extremely long night.

  But we would stay and fight. And in the end we would survive.

  Really though, after Hendrix opened up about his family, I had no choice but to stay, but to live through it. And not just because I felt some kind of obligation to him.

  Oh, no. This had everything to do with his family, how desperate I’d become to help him absolve any remaining leftover guilt and protect his younger siblings.

  I would fight for them, even die for them. Although after talking with Vaughan and deciding I couldn’t live without Hendrix either, I decided instead of doing the whole sacrificing-my-own-life-for-the cause thing, I’d just survive instead.

  That was the most important thing- coming out of this together.

  Of course there were other things to worry about in the grand scheme of things, but those would fall into place later. All that mattered right now was making it through the night.

  Chapter Three

  I followed Hendrix out of the barn. Harrison and King stayed back to protect Page and the rest of us went on the offensive- or defensive…. I wasn’t really sure which. I just knew there was a lot of killing about to happen- from our end.

  Nelson, Vaughan and Haley fanned out in front of us, picking off the line of Zombies the best they could in the darkness and from a distance. The moon offered little light, as it peeked through the heavy cloud cover up above, but at least it had stopped raining, for now. The ground was thick with mud and made walking and moving difficult, but it wasn’t something I could think about or focus on. My feet sinking three inches into the ground with each step was the least of my worries.

  It was easy to ignore the obnoxious conditions we were forced to fight in when I had more important things to think about. Like hunting and killing and war and all that.

  “We’re going around the barn, Reagan,” Hendrix ordered over his shoulder. “We’re going to find the one that can’t shut up.”

  “I’ll go around, meet you at the back,” I offered, turning on my heel, prepared to divide and conquer.

  Hendrix’s voice, harsh like steel and unrelenting, stopped me in my tracks, “You will stay behind me. I will not have this conversation with you again.”

  I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. I foolishly thought we’d moved beyond this whole thing- apparently not.

  It was eerily quiet near the barn. I heard the door shut after we rounded the corner and had to assume it was Harrison or King. They were armed and waiting, but my anxiety over those three kids heightened every single one of my senses. I did not like leaving them alone, especially with an aggressive threat so close.

  Gunfire and macabre screams of death echoed in the distance. We rounded another corner, guns raised, arms straight and still nothing. My fear spiked the further from the door we got. And even though the window had a giant hole in it, anyone crashing through it would be slowed down by the sharp shards of glass and generally make a lot of noise. But I didn’t like not having a visual on every single Feeder.

  On the third corner, Hendrix went first as usual, and although I was right behind him I couldn’t have stopped the blow if I wanted to. A baseball flew out of the air, connecting with his shoulder and outstretched arms. Hendrix’s entire body collided with the side of the barn and his gun flew out of his hand, banking off the wall and falling somewhere in the obscurity of the mud-soaked ground.

  She- I could now identify her as a version of a woman- went at him again, throwing a swing into his side. A grunt of pain spilled out of his mouth and he dropped to one knee.

  Damn it.

  She was like the demon version of a female body builder- or China, the female wrestler, not the country. Would people still understand that WWF reference? Probably not. The whole wrestling niche probably died right along with fast food and pay at the pump gas stations.

  I didn’t hesitate, I couldn’t- it would have been the difference between life and death for him. Her arms were raised above her head as if she would put all her strength into a blow to his head. I shot at her wrist first, missing my exact target, but still hitting her in the elbow. Bits and pieces of flesh and bone flew back with the connection of my bullet to her skin and she dropped her useless arm to her side. Undaunted by the loss of limb, she swung her left arm out at me. I shot again, this time hitting her in the shoulder. Her body jerked back with the impact and her hungry gaze met mine. Saliva and something else I didn’t even want to identify dripped from her open mouth and the pure, undiluted scent of rotting flesh filled the air. One-half of her face was peeled back from the decay of her disease and her hair had mostly fallen out, leaving only stringy strands of knotted clumps. She was still wearing earrings- which disturbed me more than anything. The little gold balls were proof of her former, once normal life. And what was left of her tight fitting jeans and torn blouse suggested a woman not exactly destined for a life of physical violence. She let out one more of her ear-shattering screeches and her hunger became like this tangible force I felt pushing against us.

  I looke
d into those dead, greedy eyes and erased every ounce of sympathy for her past life brewing inside me. Correcting my aim at the same time she opened her mouth wider and lunged for Hendrix’s face I let loose two bullets, landing them right between her eyes. The impact from my enormous handgun flung her body back, out of the natural trajectory of her body. She landed in an awkward heap on the ground- both arms mostly destroyed by my shots and legs bent at odd angles underneath. Her eyes were still unseeing, but no longer thirsting for flesh.

  “What the hell?” I demanded down at her lifeless body. “You crazy bitch!” I screamed- out of my mind with adrenaline and fear.

  Hendrix stood up slowly, rubbing his arm. He had recovered his gun and stood staring down at the now dead-undead with me.

  “That f-ing hurt,” he grunted. “She obviously played for the major league.”

  A cynical laugh bubbled out of me, “Obviously. Poor Hendrix, beat up by a girl.”

  Instead of replying, he wrapped his arm around my head and pulled me tightly against his chest. We stood there for a minute, breathing each other in. He made it. I made it.

  “See why you stay behind me? It’s not just for your sake. I might need you as much as you need me,” He whispered, creating chills all over my body.

  I nodded against his chest and allowed myself three more seconds in his arms. Then I pulled my gun up to check the chamber.

  “I’ve got three more then the sawed off. You?” I stepped away from Hendrix and his distracting proclamations and turned my attention to the hill.

  “Two clips and my M-16.”

  “You should start with that one,” I suggested, knowing how much damage the rifle could do.

  “It’s too dark for that,” Hendrix shrugged, picking up his handguns and turning the final corner. We’d effectively gone around the house. “These kills have to be up close and personal.”

  “If I get Zombie-goo in my hair again, I will not be happy.”

  Hendrix gave me a devilish smile over his shoulder and said, “But I promise to help you wash it out again. Maybe then you’ll return the favor?”

  Even in the middle of all this carnage, butterflies assaulted my stomach at his words. “You want me to wash your hair?”

  “Or whatever part of me is dirty,” he growled in a low rumble.

  Oh, my goodness.

  I cleared my throat trying to think of how to respond. And cleared my throat again. Finally I said, “You are hopeless.”

  “I don’t believe in hopeless. I don’t believe this world is hopeless, that humanity is hopeless and I certainly don’t believe you and I are hopeless. We’re just… taking our time right now. And later, we’ll take our time too, but in an entirely different way.”

  His words melted over my skin, hot and sensual. He was brave and domineering and most of the time a pain in my ass. But there were moments between us that were pure sex and raw attraction. Now was one of those moments.

  “I’m going to go kill something now,” I declared, completely chickening out. He was the one battle I wasn’t ready to fight just yet.

  And really, there wasn’t any more time left for words. Two Feeders had broken through the line of fire between Vaughan, Haley and Nelson and the barn. One was trying to break down the door and the other pounding on the weak wood.

  They looked up as we approached and their blood-lust infused brains told them to attack us instead of the lifeless barn. They turned, moaning and groaning, their mouths opened and wide eyes dilated with craving. In the dark I couldn’t see whether their irises were red or faint pink, but by the quickness of their steps I had to assume they were well on their way to the late degeneration of Zombie-hood.

  Hendrix took the first kill, right between the eyes. I lifted my gun, warned myself that I could not miss and pulled the trigger. My bullet hit the Feeder right in the nose- bull’s-eye- shattering his face on impact. I was far enough back that I didn’t feel any splattering debris and for that I was very, very grateful.

  Sounds of glass breaking and gunfire had us leaving our kills on the ground where they lay and rounding the corner of the barn again. Three Feeders were trying to crawl through the broken window. One had high-centered himself on the thick shards of glass, and the other two were using his body as leverage to hoist themselves over.

  One of the boys was on the inside, shooting the home-invaders before they could get inside. Whichever boy was doing the shooting got the Feeder on the top of the pile and he slid down the other bodies lifeless and unmoving on the ground. I went for the next one. He had been pulled back with the momentum of the first guy so his head was now in plain view. I hit the back of his neck with my first shot and, while he was not the same after that, he was still able to flail around and bite things. I took my last bullet, aimed it at the back of his head and this time did not miss.

  Two down, one to go.

  While I pulled my sawed-off from my pack, Hendrix yelled, “Get back.” He didn’t wait for a response though, and took the barrel of his gun straight to the temple of the Zombie still stuck in the middle of the window, flailing around like a seal. The Feeder had just started to turn his head towards Hendrix’s wrist when the shot resounded through the night and the Feeder fell limp and dead against the window ledge. Page’s startled scream accented each kill with a shrill sound of terror.

  Hendrix pulled his hand back, wiping the infected blood against his pants leg. “Do you still have that alcohol and those disinfectant wipes?” he asked casually.

  “Yep,” I whispered. My heart was pounding violently in my chest. “Do you want them now?”

  “No, I plan to get a little bloodier first,” he promised. He stuck his head in the broken window over the Zombie’s unmoving body and ordered, “Stay where you are. You’re doing a great job. Do you need more ammo?”

  King called back, his voice shaking just the tiniest, “We’re good for now.”

  “Let’s go,” I ordered Hendrix.

  I could see Haley surrounded in the distance. She was faster than the Feeders and killing as quickly as she could, but Vaughan and Nelson were both definitely occupied and unable to offer her help.

  Hendrix took off running and I pushed myself to keep up. The ground was obnoxiously coated with mud, and with each step my tennis shoes sunk further into the earth, covered in thick gooeyness. But I pushed through, anxious to get to my friend.

  About ten feet out from Haley, Hendrix stopped and started picking off Feeders. I rounded Hendrix and aimed in the other direction.

  “No,” Hendrix demanded. “That thing is too unpredictable. Stand by me and don’t use it until you have no doubt you won’t miss.”

  Annoyed, I huffed, “That’s my best friend, the only family I have left. I have no doubt I won’t miss.”

  Hendrix didn’t reply, just kept firing. And I obeyed because he was right. This gun was far from accurate and the spray was insane. I didn’t want Haley or anyone else to get caught in my fire.

  And it seemed she didn’t need me with Hendrix’s precise aim picking off Feeder after Feeder. Haley finally got some breathing room and her shots became more accurate as she panicked less.

  I hated watching this happen though. I hated feeling the frustration of uselessness. At least when I was an active part of fighting my brain could focus on singular things- like each kill, each move as I made it. Standing next to Hendrix while the battle raged on around me, allowed me to wander through all the what-ifs and focus on all my friends as each one fought off incredible peril.

  The sound of flesh being ripped away from bone by teeth had me spinning in circles and desperate to figure out where it was coming from. My stomach lurched at the fear it could be any one of our group, that someone had fallen victim to this vileness.

  I stumbled away from Hendrix, determined to save whoever it was from a fate worse than death. And I would save them. Whether they had been bitten or not, I would avenge them and refuse to let the disease take hold of their body. We were in this together, nobody
was getting out of our group, whether they were infected or not.

  To my extreme relief, I found that it was just another Zombie eating one of his own dead.

  Ick.

  Heady relief washed through me and I even closed my eyes in reprieve. I picked up my shotgun, cocked it with a swift pull of my hand and slid my finger over the trigger. The release of the bullet boomed through the night. The backlash of the butt hit me right in the shoulder, wobbling me off balance, but I hit my target. The Feeder had been unaware of me as he hovered over his meal, so he hadn’t even noticed as I lined up my shot. He lay dead now, beside his already lifeless victim, with the entire exposed side of his head gone.

  I gave Hendrix credit. This gun was a wild card- only to be used in emergencies. And now my shoulder was going to be bruised.

  Page’s horrified scream piercing the night around us constituted one of those terrifying moments in my life when my heart literally stopped beating. I glanced around but everyone else was busy with Feeders of his own. And while they stayed focused on their kills, I knew the three brothers were dying to investigate. Haley too, was still fighting for her life. It was up to me and my unpredictable gun to protect the younger ones.

  I raced back to the barn. I wasn’t so far away that it took me a long time, but I was far enough that I couldn’t make out what was happening. Gunfire was sounding from inside the building and Page’s screams could be heard above it all.

  I sprinted as best as I could through the sludge. I had seven shells to illicit as much damage as I could and a hunting knife strapped to the outside of my pack. Finally I could make out a group of bodies, ripping away one of the walls of the barn. My stomach lurched at the thought of the structure collapsing on top of Page and the boys.

  As soon as I was in range I shouted, “King, Harrison, get down!” I didn’t want my spray to accidentally catch one of them. I had to trust that they heard and listened.