by Brown, TW
Obviously they’d gone the rest of the way on foot to avoid being followed. Seeing that there were no signs or sounds of nearby walking dead, Mike bolted. He knew it was a little careless to run so fast…but that had been Cary driving that car!
He went a couple of blocks, passing a post office and long since burned down gas station. Cutting left, he could see the two-lane road that ran along the front of the hill that their farmhouse sat upon and effectively separated it from the actual town like a surgical incision. His head kept swiveling, left, right, left, right. Twice he actually spun, running backwards a few steps.
“Fuck!” a voice exclaimed off to his right.
Mike stopped suddenly, turning to face the possible threat. What he saw made his heart thud painfully. Kevin was on his face with one of those things on his back. Cary was turning to help, but it would be too late. Mike sprinted, knowing that he too would arrive after the damage had already been done. He saw Cary drive a wicked ninja-style blade through the thing’s face and force it off Kevin. But not before the thing had plunged its teeth into Kevin’s shoulder and tore out what looked to be a substantial chunk. Where’s the scream? he thought as he ran. Cary moved in and rolled Kevin over. Suddenly he looked up, moving over Kevin protectively and baring both blades.
“Jeez,” Cary sighed. “I was afraid those bastards had gained sprinting ability like in Snyder’s flick.”
The levity lasted less than a second as both men’s gaze dropped to the face of their friend. Kevin’s mouth still gaped and he was as stiff as a board from head to toe. He was shaking his head. Just a little.
“Don’t talk.” Cary laid a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Mike stood silently, torn with his joy of seeing Cary and the pain of knowing that his other friend was about to leave him.
“Grrgk,” Kevin squeaked.
“Shhh.” Mike knelt opposite Cary, his eyes going to the hand he’d seen bitten by a zombie with his own two eyes.
“Not. Bit,” Kevin wheezed.
Both Mike’s and Cary’s eyes went first to their downed friend, then each other. Unceremoniously, and a little rougher than he’d intended, Cary flipped Kevin over. A big piece of shirt was gone. But the skin was clear, a bit dirty, but clear of any teeth marks. Twin sighs of relief sounded.
Sudden movement made Mike turn, accidentally dropping Kevin who they were both helping to his feet. Cary reacted to Mike and let go as well. Kevin landed with a thud.
“What the—?” Cary saw a very attractive—obviously teenaged—girl in a blue dress sprinting down the hill across the road with a scoped rifle in her hands.
“That’s Heather.” Mike shrugged and glanced down at Kevin who lay at their feet in obvious pain. “Oh shit!”
Once more they went to help their friend. By the time he was up, Heather had reached them, skidding to a halt, but still managing to slam into Kevin who groaned slightly.
“He’s—” she backpedaled. Immune or not, getting bit was not something she wanted to ever experience again.
“He’s fine,” Mike whispered, “which is more than I’ll be able to say for us if we don’t get inside.”
“I’m Cary.” He stuck out the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Kevin’s waist.
“Heather.” She shook it, then glanced nervously at Kevin.
The foursome made it to the house as quickly as possible. By the time they were halfway, Kevin had shrugged off the help and, while just a little hunched over, made it under his own steam.
Cary stopped suddenly as they reached the porch, “What is that?”
The other three looked at him in confusion.
“That wonderful smell!”
“Oh,” Heather blushed, “I made lunch.”
Once inside, she insisted that all three go upstairs and clean up. They did. Quickly. The smile on her face never faded as she served up all three, drinking in the compliments. She blushed at the moans of ecstasy as all three had finished the meal and were presented with dessert. Peach cobbler.
6
New Attitudes
“Thank you so much.” The lucky woman’s voice was dry and raspy like a chain-smoker’s.
Looking at her up close, I’d guess her to have about a two-percent body-fat. Under the layers of grime was the heavily freckled but ivory-white skin so common in honest-to-goodness redheads. Her face resides on the homely side of plain, not helped by an over-generous sprinkling of more freckles. Her gray eyes only added to her hawkish appearance. Nobody could be less aptly named Sunshine.
“The child is my responsibility,” Sunshine continued. “I know the injury is a concern, so let me just assure you that we will deal with it.”
I looked around at my group. The faces that stared back showed the range of every emotion I felt swirling inside. Dave, hope; Dr. Zahn, skepticism; Teresa, concern; Jamie, total confusion. Once more I asked myself when I’d been crowned King of Every Awful Choice.
“Somebody needs to keep a twenty-four hour watch on the child.” I did my best to sound authoritative like Paul Wimmer or Randall Smith.
“Steve?” Dr. Zahn stepped up beside me.
“In a minute.” I did not want to have the conversation I knew was coming in front of the new additions.
“Is the child the only one injured?” Teresa butted in.
“Yes,” Sunshine nodded, “it happened on the way to the roof.”
“Steve.” Dr. Francis Zahn was no longer sounding pleasant. All the more reason to have the dreaded conversation later.
“Wait till we get loaded up,” I tried to say it with a smile.
“Thalia!” Teresa screamed.
At some point, she’d climbed out of the Hummer. She was with the group of new arrivals. Talking to the injured child! Injured? I can’t even get myself to say “bitten” or “infected”, but my little girl is standing there babbling to this stranger like children do. She doesn’t see the danger. She only sees another child like herself. This one isn’t like Emily. This one is more her size, and thus, a more suitable playmate. All I see is a coral snake. It looks pretty, but it is death. Death to my little girl.
Teresa is running, and before I really realize it, I’m right on her heels. The newcomers look terrified. The little boy vanishes behind a sea of legs. Thalia looks totally confused. I hear Sunshine say something that sounds angry, and I hear Dr. Zahn say something back equally harsh. I don’t hear the words as much as sense a battle of outrage versus justification.
“Papi?” Thalia steps away from Teresa and to me. That’s a first, I thought as I scooped her into my arms.
“Can we sort this out later?” Barry breaks into the picture with Randi at his back. “Those things down there,” he points down the long, steep hill, “they’re coming this way.”
I walk to the edge. Sure enough. I can’t hold back my gasp. “My God,” I barely manage. There are thousands. Not hundreds. Thousands! And they are coming.
“Load up!” I holler. Being quiet is pointless. I opened the door, waving my arms. In no time, the dead city of La Grande faded from sight. I know there are other groups here fighting to survive. I wish we had a fleet of busses to save everybody.
We don’t.
***
“Papi?” Thalia tugged on my arm. “Why can’t I play with Matt? I ate all my dinner and even washed my plate.”
Dammit. I looked down into those large, brown eyes that were staring up at me with genuine puzzlement. She thinks I’m punishing her, I thought.
“Sweetie,” I picked the tiny girl up and set her in my lap and put my dinner plate on the ground. I really wasn’t that hungry anyways. “Matt is sick and needs to rest.”
Liar.
“Maybe tomorrow, if he’s feeling better.”
Liar.
“There’ll be plenty of time to play once we find a place to stay.”
Oh my God! Just add ‘and maybe your mom will meet us there.’
Thalia looked at me with that absolute trust and belief.
Her eyes blinked once, showing off those long dark lashes that added to her innocent, angelic look.
“If Matt is sick,” Thalia got that look that told me she was searching for words, “he should have my blanket.”
“That’s very sweet, princess,” I hugged her, “but you need to use your blanket so you don’t get sick, too.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. Right?
“Now go see if Teresa can come see me for a minute.” I sat her on the ground and watched her run off.
We’d found a nicely secluded area up on a ridge. There were plenty of trees to keep us hidden from view. I didn’t plan on staying here more than a day or two until this whole situation with the child played itself out. I’d been keeping one eye on the boy without trying to look like I was staring. I wasn’t the only one. Dr. Zahn hadn’t let the child out of her sight since we’d set up camp. Barry and Randi were sitting on a fallen tree, pretending to be talking, but one of them was always watching. And it was obvious that the child was succumbing to the infection. He looked waxy, pale, and was growing listless.
“The eyes,” Teresa whispered in my ear, causing me to practically jump out of my skin. “Sorry.”
“What?” I made room for her to hop up beside me on the flat stump that had served as my chair.
“The eyes,” Teresa repeated. “They’re bloodshot black.”
“I feel terrible for them.” I tilted my head to the cluster of newbies that I still hadn’t learned the names of, other than Sunshine and the child. “One of them is gonna have a bad night, but all of them will be miserable by morning. I think we’ll stay put one more day. They might want to have a service or something for Matt.”
“You do know that with the exception of Dave, nobody agrees with this.”
“It’s good to be da king,” I muttered.
“Huh?” She tilted her head, looking at me with a sideways glance.
“Nothing,” I sighed. “Just channeling a little Mel Brooks.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Spread the word for everybody to be patient. These folks have been through hell.”
“So has everybody,” Teresa sighed and hopped off the stump, brushing herself off. She walked away without another word.
“Yep,” I picked up my plate of half-eaten deviled ham and creamed corn, “it’s good to be da king.”
“Steve?” Melissa trotted up. She glanced at Teresa who was literally stomping off. “Can we talk?”
Great.
“Go ahead,” I said and sat the plate on the stump. I crossed my arms and turned to face contestant number two in the “Let’s Second Guess Steve” game.
“Umm,” she took a step back and her eyes immediately went to the ground, “maybe later.”
“No,” I nodded my head sharply one time, “I am open to whatever other gripes, bitches, and criticisms are out there in regard to my not simply putting a bullet in the head of a six-year-old boy. So please…let ‘er rip.”
“I was gonna ask you if maybe tonight we could share a sleeping bag.” Melissa’s eyes came up to meet mine—brimming with tears. “Not to do anything, I just wanted to be close to you because I thought you could use a friend.”
“Oh…” I stammered.
She spun and stormed off, leaving me standing there like an idiot with my mouth open. This was shaping up to be a fine evening. I cleaned my plate and looked for Aaron. He was already strapping on his equipment.
“Hey!” I handed him his gloves that were on the hood of the Hummer Thalia was currently pretending to drive.
“S’up.” Aaron took the gloves and then began checking all his belts and buckles. I could really see the impact being around all those real soldiers had on him in that moment.
“I need to ask you a favor,” I began.
“Check in on the newcomers and watch for the boy to turn. If they don’t take him out, finish the job.” Aaron finished his self-check. “Teresa already pulled me up on it.”
Part of me got angry. Either I was making the decisions or I wasn’t. I damn sure didn’t need a sixteen-year-old girl showing me up or going over my head. I took a deep breath, “Okay, who’s up after—”
“Dave,” he said, and walked away into the trees.
I was a shot of whisky away from knocking the crap out of a teenaged boy, yelling at a teenaged girl, and shooting a six-year-old boy in the head. Was this really the world I was trying to survive in? Fuck it, I just want to go to sleep and try to catch a few hours shut-eye before Dave wakes me for my watch.
***
The scream tore me from sleep. The worst part of waking that way is how hard it is to orient yourself on just exactly what the hell is happening. A second scream. This one sounded eerily familiar. My mind converted to a scream-Rolodex. I knew that sound, I heard it—
“Thalia!” I was fighting my way out of the sleeping bag, opening the driver’s side door, and pulling a nine-inch Buck knife from a sheath all at once.
I heard movement happening all around me. Everybody had been asleep. It was very dark under the canopy of trees, and there sure as hell wasn’t a fire burning in this campsite. Somebody was thinking clearly, because one of the Hummers at my back had all of its lights—headlights, fog-lights, and searchlight—on in a flood of brilliance that momentarily blinded me. I heard a thud and grunt.
The scream sounded again to my left. I stumbled twice, not daring to stop, but still unable to see.
“Thalia!” I screamed again. Dread and helplessness poured into my gut and started churning. My eyes adjusted, and what I saw made me cold to the core. Matt had Thalia pinned to the ground. His mouth was open wide and covered in blood. Thalia had both tiny hands on his throat, trying desperately to keep his teeth from clamping down on her face.
I sprinted, adjusting my approach at the last second, bringing my booted foot—yes, I sleep with my boots on these days, doesn’t everybody?—up and into the ribs of the small Matt-zombie, sending it flying. It landed on its back, oblivious to the assault, and began struggling to its feet. I stalked over, stomped down on its chest, wanting to but unable to enjoy the sound of the sternum cracking, and with a downward thrust, drove the blade into one malignant eye. The blade went all the way through, pinning the now motionless corpse to the ground.
I swallowed hard. The tears were already filling my eyes. No, she wasn’t my real daughter, but she may as well be. I’d come to love that child just like she was my own.
“Papi?” a sobbing voice called.
I didn’t even turn around. I knew that what I would see was going to damage my very soul. Especially since, in a lot of ways, it was my fault. I’d made a command decision and it was wrong. Taking as deep of a breath as possible and wiping my eyes, I turned around.
Thalia was still flat on her back. She had blood all over her pink sweatshirt…her arms…her hands. A sick feeling grew, and I wanted to throw up. Not from the sight of blood, but from the sight of my little girl only minutes, perhaps hours, from undeath. I realized with a sudden jolt that this was my first actual experience with loss related to this whole nightmare. The little girl I’d sworn to protect with my life had been betrayed by the adult in her life that she’d come to trust completely.
“Papi?” She raised her arms, reaching out to me.
I shook myself free of my self-pity and ran to her side. Scooping her up in my arms, I was momentarily embarrassed by the fact that I had examined her forehead before kissing it.
“Thalia,” I sobbed, then choked it back. She needed me to show strength, the trait I’d obviously been lacking up to this point.
“Te amo, Papi,” she whispered. “Siento. Siento.”
“What?” I pulled back. “Sweetie, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“My blanket,” Thalia said.
“You want your blanket?” I stood.
“No,” Thalia shook her head. I looked at her, she’d stopped crying. “I gave it to Matt.”
“And that’s when he bit yo
u,” I whispered. Now it was even more assuredly my fault. Had I just let her—
“No,” Thalia squirmed in my grip, “he didn’t bite me.”
What? Now I was confused. She wasn’t aware enough to comprehend how the infection was spread, was she? She wasn’t lying to save her skin. Then what the hell?
A low moan off to my right and in the shadow of some bushes yanked my attention from Thalia. I could make out a pair of legs, and something dark hunched over them. Setting Thalia down, I moved. For the first time, I was aware that my whole group was standing a few yards away, clustered together. The light was at their backs, but I heard a few sniffles.
They knew.
The newcomers were in another group, and I could see them shifting anxiously. They wanted to go to the body of the child, Matt, and see for themselves. But they didn’t want to move towards me, the man standing with the blood of his little girl all over him, blood spilled by one of their own.
The moan sounded again, and was echoed by a…whimper? My focus returned to the dark form hunched over in the shadows and the pair of legs.
“Somebody aim the searchlight!” I pointed in the direction, then retrieved my knife. I heard a few gasps from the newcomers, and somebody started crying. I didn’t care.
The searchlight swept over, chasing the shadows away and revealing a new horror. One of the women from the newcomers looked up, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Its mouth. Most of the throat of this thing had been torn out. Its shirt had been ripped away and hung in tatters around its waist. One breast had been eaten away and was no more than a crimson smear. It held an arm, Dave’s arm, in its hands. A single tear just below the elbow was a wellspring of red liquid.
Dave was also bleeding from his forehead, but not from a bite. The huge swelling told the story. Hadn’t I heard a ‘thud’ and somebody cry out or something while I was blinded? He was stirring. I moved fast, the thing paid me no mind as it leaned in for another bite. I plunged the blade into its temple and it fell over, still clutching Dave’s arm.