DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

by Brown, TW

  “Kinda strange,” DeAngelo said as we started back towards the cabin. “These two little ones hung back through the entire ordeal. I didn’t think anything of it. It was just weird that every single time that I looked their way, they hadn’t moved. I swear to God that it felt like they were studying me.”

  He paused for a second. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to make sense of things in his own mind or what, but eventually he continued.

  “When I started towards them, they both just turned and walked away. It wasn’t really like they were trying to escape, just that they had seen all they cared to see and were ready to leave.”

  “So it seemed like they were studying you?” I asked.

  “I guess,” DeAngelo shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I was a little busy dealing with the ones I had on the ground coming after me.”

  “You two mind letting me in on what y’all are goin’ on about?” Nickie demanded.

  “That zombie that you nailed with the throwing knife?” I shot a quick glance at DeAngelo. “Did you know that she threw blades like William Tell?”

  “William Tell shot an apple,” Nickie huffed.

  “Okay…she throws a knife like William Tell would if he wasn’t shooting a bow and arrow. I mean the girl is freakishly good,” I corrected.

  “No idea,” DeAngelo shrugged.

  “Anyways, that child-zombie was standing there for several minutes,” I explained. “She just stood there watching me and didn’t react at all until I went for a weapon.”

  “Wait? What?” DeAngelo and Nickie said in unison.

  “How long had it been there?” Nickie asked.

  “Not sure,” I admitted. “I closed my eyes and when I opened them a few moments later, she was there. I heard her coming, but I couldn’t do anything about it.”

  “Why not?” Nickie asked.

  Crap on toast, I absolutely did not want to melt her confidence this close after her last mini-meltdown. She’d been the saddest looking person I had ever seen; if I told her that she had inadvertently knocked the wind out of me and I’d been in danger of being eaten, she might shut down.

  “I was just having trouble is all,” I explained, and quickly went on with my recounting of what had happened minus the whole part about having the wind knocked out of me.

  “That’s weird,” DeAngelo said as we reached the stairs to the cabin.

  “I can’t even begin to guess what the heck that is all about,” I said.

  Just before we opened the door, Nickie grabbed our arms. “If what you are both saying is accurate, then maybe we keep our eyes open and snag one for Dr. Zahn. I bet she could run some tests and maybe tell us what the dickens is going on. That might pull her out of her funk.”

  She had a good point.

  ***

  The next few days were blessedly dull. The snow let up and it actually seemed to warm up a bit. Not enough to melt the snow in any visible amount, but enough so that everybody made a trip outside; even Dr. Zahn went out onto the porch for a while and sat on a stump that doubled as a stool and a even a card table on occasion.

  That entire time, not a single zombie was sighted. The lookouts reported a few distant pinpoints of light that were likely camp fires, though I could not imagine being outside in this sort of weather for more than an hour or two, and that was with the knowledge that I could duck inside and get warmed by the raging fire in the massive hearth. Face it…as far as zombie apocalypse survival went…I was spoiled.

  “Steve?” a voice whispered from right behind me as I was standing out on the porch watching Thalia, Emily, Rabia and Levent make a snow family.

  “How’s things, Doc?” I said without taking my eyes off the children. They had decided to create a snowman to represent each of us and were building DeAngelo’s at the moment. They’d enlisted Fiona and Billy to help with the base. This snowman would easily be three or four times the size of all the others. That said a lot about how they saw this gentle giant of a man.

  “Tell me everything you remember about that encounter.”

  I didn’t need to ask which one. I’d already given her a narration at least a dozen times by now. What could she possibly gain from another re-telling of the story? Still, if it got her going and in any way contributed to getting her out of her funk, then I was obviously going to do what needed to be done.

  I related all the details by rote as I had every time before. Periodically, she would ask a question or two. Sometimes she would ask the same questions with a few different words—once a doctor always a doctor, I guess.

  When the interrogation was over, she went inside with her pencil tapping furiously on her notebook. I went back to watching the kids, the dog, and a pair of assistants building our snowclones. That is why I was outside when the distant growl of an engine broke the relative quiet. Actually, Buster heard it first and cocked her head to the side in the same way I’d seen that child-zombie do just a few days earlier.

  When the Snowcat came through the natural canopy that framed the entrance road, I could tell that something was up. Jesus and Jake were both sitting on top of the cab waving their arms. It was a wave of greeting as opposed to the “grab the guns and be ready” wave. To their credit, I noticed that all the kids were frozen in their spots and watching the arrival of the cat.

  I waited as patiently as possible for them to come up to the parking lot area. I actually had to chuckle when Thalia plowed through the snow to the driveway’s entrance and acted as a traffic cop, indicating where they could park. Meanwhile, I noticed that they had a huge load of supplies in the trailer…as well as five new faces.

  “How’s the leg, Steve?” That was the first thing out of Jon’s mouth as he climbed out of the cabin and went around to the trailer and began untying the straps. Not, anything about the supplies or the people, I took that as a message.

  “It is as good as can be expected.” I raised my eyebrows in the universal symbol for ‘What’s up?’ as I made my way to the cat, but he seemed satisfied with the answer and moved on.

  “Where is the doctor?” Jake asked as he slid down from his perch and landed in the snow.

  “Inside,” I replied. By now, the rest of the gang was making their way out onto the porch. I knew I would only have a few seconds before they made their way down and could hear normal voice tones. “So what’s the deal with these folks?” I kept my voice as low as I could.

  “We found a small group.” Jake looked past me like he wanted to be sure that nobody else heard. “These were the ones we felt comfortable traveling with, but we left a dozen back at their camp.”

  “Comfortable?” I asked. I didn’t like where this was headed. A look came across Jake’s face that I couldn’t read. Then Jesus came down beside Jake. I wasn’t close with the man, but I’d never seen him like this. He was pale, and if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he was infected.

  “Jon made us promise to keep our mouths shut, he said he wanted to talk to you,” Jesus said.

  Jesus went to the cab of the cat and opened the door. The stench that poured out of that rectangular opening was almost enough to make me sick. The first person to be helped out had a face that looked like one of those people from the old concentration camp pictures. I seriously could not initially tell if the individual was male or female.

  I don’t know how long I stared, but the person did not seem to notice. Even with the layers of clothing—all of which looked recently acquired—I could tell that this person was nothing but skin and bones. One by one, the others were helped out. They just huddled close and waited until each of them was out, then they followed Jake like ducklings would a mother.

  By now, everybody had come at least part way, but at some point the children had run up to the house. I could see them, Thalia and Emily clinging to Melissa while Rabia and Levent each had a grip on DeAngelo. Even Buster had retreated and was in a crouch at the base of the stairs.

  As Jake approached, everybody either backed up or moved to give the
m a wide berth. In a way, it was kind of embarrassing. Obviously these people were in dire straits, and here we were acting like they were the walking dead.

  “We need to head back out right away.”

  At some point, Jon had come up beside me. Jesus was still standing beside the Snowcat with a haunted and blank expression. I had to know what was going on. And going back out? I better have some answers first, because I was prepared to use my so-called position to veto any further activity until I had the whole story.

  “What is going on?” I asked as I turned to face the man. Then I took a step back. Even Jon looked awful. Whatever it was, it had a man that showed no fear shaken to the core.

  “Go up to the house and see,” Jon said. “I will give you the details, but you have to see first hand and hear their story. Then, if you can tell me not to go back out there…well…I guess we’ll see.”

  Each of us grabbed a box of supplies and headed up to the cabin. As I approached, I noticed everybody had stopped short of entering. My entire group was out on the porch, crowded around the doorway or the windows.

  “Make a hole!” I barked, causing them all to jump.

  “Steve?” Melissa had a look that went way past concerned etched on her face.

  “I have no idea,” I said with a shrug as I shouldered my way past everybody and entered the cabin.

  The group of five had stopped right where Jake did and simply stood motionless while he peeled off their outer garments carefully like he was afraid he might injure one of them.

  I had to do a double-take. The first one that I’d seen turned out to be a male. I could not put an age on him, but he was young enough to not have gone through puberty because his face was devoid of even a trace of fuzz. However, it was the left arm that I could not tear my eyes from. Rather, it was what remained of that left arm. It had been severed at just below the elbow and looked like it had been cauterized by shoving it in a campfire with the skin all black almost to the shoulder.

  That was just the beginning. One by one each of them were stripped of their jacket and moved close to the fire. Each had the exact same injury. Everybody, that is, with the exception of what turned out to be a woman. Again, the malnutrition had made determining the age next to impossible.

  Of all the members of the group, she was the only one without the missing lower left arm. However, there was something in her face that seemed far worse. It was just the expression, but she actually looked more damaged emotionally than the others.

  “What is it?” Dr. Zahn grumbled as she came out of her office with Sunshine dragging her by the wrist. “I’ve got—”

  Whatever else she was about to say died in her throat as she saw—and most likely smelled—the new arrivals. I was about to say something when I saw a flicker of the old doctor in the eyes of a woman who I had thought to be lost for good.

  “Get these people into the back room. I want everything we can use put to the task of getting me as much hot water as possible. I want rags and I want the cleanest clothing we have as well as a minimum of three blankets for each.” Doctor Zahn was back.

  The room was silent for a few seconds until she stepped into the middle of it and clapped her hands together once. “Now, people!” With that, it was like roaches in a room when the light came on; everybody took off in different directions. Some bumping into each other.

  I caught Jon’s gaze and we both headed back out to the cat to get it unloaded. As we walked down the stairs, Jesus caught up.

  “I can’t stay in there with those people right now,” he said.

  “You can help us unload,” Jon offered. “But then we are going back.”

  If it were at all possible, Jesus turned even paler. “I just don’t think—”

  “Your job isn’t to think, soldier,” Jon barked, sounding very much like a Marine sergeant. “You will do as you’re told. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So are you gonna give me the details?” I asked.

  “I will, but believe me when I tell you that words can’t actually relate what we found.” Jon’s voice seemed to grow quieter with each word.

  “When we got just outside of La Grande, we started to find signs of people. Every so often we would come across a few zombies that had been taken down. The fact that we were seeing them meant that they were recent kills; otherwise they would have been buried.

  “Then we saw what looked like a small trailer park with a corrugated metal fence built around it with lots of extra reinforcement and no visible gate.” We reached the Snowcat and Jon paused as he climbed up into the attached cart.

  Once he started tossing things down, he continued. “We tried to hail anybody inside and thought it might be abandoned or that maybe everybody inside had turned. Then we heard a cough.”

  “Otherwise we would have moved on and never found them and they would have stayed there to…” Jesus started to talk, but his voice trailed off at the end.

  “We climbed over, and my first thought was that they had turned and that sound hadn’t been a cough, but rather just some random noise from a walker. However, there was a small fire burning in a metal barrel and that had to mean that they were alive.” Jon stopped again and I looked up at him and saw what I thought might actually be tears in his eyes. I kept my mouth shut and waited.

  “They were eating themselves, man,” Jesus finally spit out, unable to keep it in any longer.

  I looked from Jon to Jesus, unsure of what I heard. They couldn’t be meaning what I thought they were, could they? Jon gave a slow nod. I looked back to the cabin as if that would help me understand. I had that image in my head of each of those people missing their left arm to the elbow. All but the one. It must’ve shown on my face because Jon sat down on a large burlap bag of rice or beans or something of the sort and folded his hands on one knee like he was settling in to tell a story. Only, I had the distinct feeling that I would not like the ending, and that nobody lived happily ever after.

  “The woman was pregnant,” Jon began, but already he was having trouble speaking. He kept swallowing like there was a huge lump in his throat that wouldn’t clear. “According to one of their group, she miscarried at the seventh month…probably due to lack of nutrition.”

  Suddenly I wanted to hug Melissa. I was becoming increasingly aware of just how good we had things…even during our worst times.

  “They ate it,” Jesus whispered. “They were so hungry that instead of burning the child…they ate it.”

  When had I sat down? I wondered as I found myself seated in the cold snow.

  “We brought the ones we felt comfortable moving without the doc taking a look. And we left the strongest behind to try and protect them, but I don’t know if they can fend off a stiff breeze at this point,” Jon explained.

  “So that is what you meant when you said you had to head back out?” I was at a loss.

  I had several thoughts flood my brain, and I’m not proud of many of them. What would this mean for all of our supplies? The entire reason that we sent Jon and the men out in the first place was because we would not last the winter. The first five were already here, but how many more were there. And as messed up as they were, what possible diseases might they be carrying? How would this affect the kids?

  I was the leader of this group. It had been voted on and been unanimous for the most part. Supposedly my word was the final say. They had chosen me because I thought through things with what they considered more clarity, but I called it a bunch of guessing and making it up on the fly. If I made the call to leave things as they were—there was no way I could toss out the people they had already brought—would everybody agree? I had a feeling that Jon might oppose me on that decision. However, that was the least of my concerns. I doubted with all seriousness my own ability to simply ignore the problem. It would mean that we would need to endanger ourselves further and go out for more increasingly-hard-to-find supplies. But it would also mean that I would be able to look myself in the mirr
or.

  An image flashed in my mind that made me shiver. I pictured Thalia, Emily, and Melissa looking like those new arrivals. If I was wrong and we were unable to meet our supply needs, that might very well be the fate that I consigned them to.

  “I will get a few helping hands to unload the supplies you brought,” I finally said. “Then you and I and the doc will roll out.”

  “Are you sure that you are in any condition—”

  “I’m going,” I said with as much authority as I could muster. “But we do this on one condition, if the doc says that one or any of those people will not survive…we leave them. You do what needs to be done to lessen their suffering, but I will only do this under that condition.”

  “Understood,” Jon agreed.

  I glanced at Jesus and am fairly certain that I saw relief on his face when he realized that he would not be going.

  Each of us grabbed what we could carry and headed back to the cabin. When we arrived, everybody was still standing around in stunned silence. I could only speak for myself, but I had a feeling that everybody was seeing a glimpse at a possible future. As for the survivors, they had all been hustled to the back.

  “Everybody listen up,” I called out. A few people jumped. “We have supplies outside that need to be unloaded yesterday. Jon, Dr. Zahn, and I will be heading out to the camp where the rest of these people are staying. While we’re gone, I want Billy, Melissa and Fiona to inventory the supplies and make a reasonable rationing list that will give us an idea how long the food will last. Calculate it for an additional…” I glanced at Jon who flashed both hands once and another hand, “…fifteen people being added to our ranks.”

  “Excuse me?” Cheryl Coates spoke up.

  “Yes?” I was not sure where this would go, but I was seriously hoping that this would not turn into a debate on the idea of bringing these survivors into our camp…especially by our newest additions.

  “I don’t know about anybody else, but I feel rather useless just standing around. Is there anything that needs to be done to set up for these incoming people?”