by Brown, TW
Jon and I pulled the doctor up. Next, Jon inched out along the branch and then swung over and dropped to the ground with a crunch as he plunged through the virgin snow. I went next and had barely hit the ground when the mixture of smells hit me in the gut.
“Look out!” Jon hissed as he shoved me out of the way. Doctor Zahn landed rather unceremoniously beside me. She was in the seated position and so only her head and the tops of her shoulders were visible above the snow.
“My goodness.” The doctor squeezed her eyes shut tight and I heard her swallow.
“It’s gotten worse.” That was all Jon said as he headed towards the cluster of buildings that the barrier had encompassed.
I helped Dr. Zahn to her feet and followed. Every single step seemed to be a test of my resolve. I had no idea what could be waiting, but after what I’d already seen, plus the swirling array of various smells that seemed to lurk in the wind, I had absolutely no doubt that this was going to be unpleasant.
A sound that could have been a moan or a cry came from up ahead. Jon began to wade through the snow as quickly as he could. For some strange reason that I could not begin to explain, seeing him move in what was little more than slow-motion made me think of the opening credits of Baywatch. The wave of snow that was rolling off of him as he plunged forward and the fact that he was moving so slow had triggered this odd memory comparison, and now I was helpless to clear it from my head. It was as if my brain was already doing everything possible to minimize what I was about to experience.
I rounded the corner and collided with the back of Jon. Further proof of just how strong he was in comparison to basically everybody, he didn’t even register the impact. I, on the other hand, landed on my ass.
“Hey there,” Jon said in as soft a voice as I’d ever heard from him. He was already crouching down. That was the only way I was able to see the little girl standing in the much-too-dark doorway.
I had to actually think for a moment to realize that she was the spitting image of the girl frozen to the fence outside this place. The resemblance was made even more frightening when my brain allowed me to process just how terrible this child looked. Her face was so drawn that it would be easy to think that this child was dead. The only thing that gave hint that she was among the living were the eyes. Besides the fact that they lacked the white film and black tracers…zombies don’t cry.
“Get out of the way, Steven,” Dr. Zahn hissed as she pushed past not only me, but Jon as well.
“Can you speak, child?” The doctor had already halved the distance between us and the child in the doorway before I could get to my feet. Her voice had changed into something that was completely foreign sounding to me having been around Dr. Francis Zahn for as long as I had. Sweet. Warm. Grandmotherly.
The child cast a look over her shoulder before taking two steps forward. As of yet, I hadn’t heard a sound from inside that building. In fact, other than that one cry, I hadn’t heard any sounds at all from inside this compound.
“Mommy…m-m-mommy can’t walk,” the little girl rasped. Had I not been staring directly at her, I would have thought that voice came from some chain-smoking truck driver of a woman. It certainly did not fit this wisp of a child standing before me.
“Is there anybody in there besides your mommy?” Jon asked.
Dr. Zahn’s head whipped around like an angry snake. “You keep your eyes open for trouble and your mouth shut, Marine. From here on, this is my mission and I will ask the questions that need asking.”
It was probably instinctive, but Jon snapped to attention and gave a slight nod of his head in acknowledgement. Just that quick, I watched the relationship between these two people transform. Suddenly, she was a military officer and he was an enlisted man.
“How many people are still inside, child?” Dr. Zahn asked. Just that quick, she was everybody’s sweet old grandmother.
The child seemed to consider the question for a few seconds before holding up seven fingers. She looked over her shoulder again, and then extended one more finger, then another.
“Nine?” Dr. Zahn asked.
The little girl nodded.
“And do any of them have something wrong with their eyes?” By now, Dr. Zahn was only a few steps away from the child. I could tell by the way her head was moving that she was trying to crane her neck enough to get a better look inside.
The little girl nodded. Once more she looked over her shoulder. When she looked back, her expression had changed. I could see what looked to me like pain.
“Mommy promised me that she would not be like daddy…she lied.”
Jon and I stepped up behind the doctor. The closeness to that doorway did almost nothing to improve our ability to see. It was still so dark that we could not even make out shapes.
And then the upper torso of a woman pulled herself into view. There was no mistaking that this woman was the child’s mother. The blonde hair was the easiest thing to lock onto, but even their faces were so similar that it left no doubt.
“Mommy…Mister Patton says that you are supposed to stay tied up,” the little girl said. Her voice had a scolding tone to it that reminded me of how Thalia spoke to Buster when she had a potty accident indoors.
The creeper raised its head and regarded the child standing a few feet away. After what I’d seen with that child-zombie outside the gate, I almost expected it to ignore the little girl and come after us. It didn’t.
One hand reached out and snagged an ankle. With a tug, the child fell on to her back. Both Jon and I leapt forward with blades drawn. I actually got the inside track and had my heavy machete raised when the child screamed.
“Don’t hurt my mommy!”
That threw me off and I hesitated. Jon didn’t. His blade crashed down, splitting the skull open. The legless creeper flopped to the ground, its open mouth dangerously close to the leg of the girl. I came in with the finishing stroke. Dr. Zahn shoved me aside and scooped the girl into her arms. Unfortunately for the doc, the little girl wasn’t having any of it.
“Let go of me!” she slapped Dr. Zahn and began to thrash about, her tiny balled fists raining blows on her captor.
“Hey—” Jon barked, but I cut him off.
“We got trouble!” I backed away from where I had taken position in the doorway.
In the shadows, I could make out five figures coming towards me. I looked over my shoulder at Dr. Zahn who had her hands full trying to get the child under control. For somebody so visibly malnourished, she had a lot of fight in her.
Jon and I took up a position on either side of the doorway and waited. The first figure to step through was so heavily bundled that it was impossible to tell if it was a male or a female. I was closest and stepped into my swing.
The howl of pain that followed was answered by a shriek from the little girl. I almost broke my wrists trying to pull up on my second swing aimed at the shrouded head of the next figure that staggered through the door.
“Please,” a voice whispered from the darkness, “we aren’t infected. The infected ones are tied up inside.”
“They killed my mommy, Mister Patton!” the girl bawled. “The bad man chopped her.”
“But she…” I glanced down at the remains of the child’s mother.
“She was infected,” the man managed to say through a lung-rending cough.
I looked down at the blood pooling around the head of the person I had just cleaved. The child’s mother might have been a zombie, but zombies didn’t really bleed. Not like this.
I heard something change in the struggle behind me between the doctor and the little girl. Dr. Zahn had her arm around the girl’s neck from behind. It reminded me of a sleeper hold that you might see on pro wrestling. However, unlike the dramatized version for entertainment purposes, this didn’t take more than a few seconds. The child slumped and Dr. Zahn laid her down in a clear patch of snow.
“Each of you needs to step into the light,” Dr. Zahn ordered. “And you two, as soon as these
people are all out, go in and finish off whatever is inside.”
As each individual stepped out, the only thing that came to mind was stories that my grandfather used to tell. He had been in the US Army during World War Two and served in the 6th Armored Division. He was one of the men present at the liberation of the Nazi Buchenwald prison camp. The descriptions of some of the things he saw just did not seem possible. I’d always felt that perhaps he had exaggerated. When those five people stepped out into the light…I suddenly believed that perhaps he had cleaned it up for me.
I didn’t need to see what was or was not under the layers of clothing. What I could see of their faces told me more than I wanted to know. It was like seeing flesh-toned human skulls staring back at me. The mouths were a mass of scabs and sores at each end and it looked visibly painful when the man, obviously Mr. Patton, spoke. It was almost as if you could see the skin of his lips rip and tear with each word.
“There are three inside,” Mr. Patton managed. “One…Kelli Scott…she was immune…but passed in the night. She’s one of them now.”
I followed Jon inside. At that point, I thought I’d seen all the horror there was to see. Hanging from the rafters was a body. Or, more accurately, what was left. With a burlap sack or something over the head, you could not see the face, but this woman had been almost entirely stripped of every ounce of flesh. One arm remained untouched from the elbow on down. I guess they didn’t have to worry much about spoilage due to the cold, so they simply left it hanging and cut away pieces as needed. A large metal barrel was off to the side. I imagine that would be what they would boil the rest off at the end when nothing more could be carved away.
Next to that barrel was another. It sat on embers and steam rose from it, swirling around the covered head that bobbed on the surface. That must have been the last person to serve the masses. The smell coming from the bubbling barrel was very upsetting. It was strangely reminiscent of beef stew. The fact that my mouth began to water brought on a merciful sensation of nausea.
I didn’t wait for Jon to say anything. I planted my foot against the barrel and pushed it over. The contents spilled out in a chunky rush that was made all the more disturbing due to the poor light given by the barely glowing embers of the fire that I’d kicked it off of.
He went over to a far corner and I soon heard the telltale sounds of heads being cleaved. It was over in seconds, but it would haunt me for however long I had left on this world. Once we were finished, I could not get out of that place quick enough.
Dr. Zahn had the five survivors sitting in a row as she went down the line giving them whatever sort of checkup that she deemed necessary. I kept finding my eyes draw to the little figure curled up in the fetal position at the feet of Mr. Patton. I tried to imagine what had led these people to this fate. I tried to understand what god could allow this child to endure what she had while Thalia lived in relative luxury by comparison. My brain sped through all the horrible events that my little Thalia had survived and kept returning to the fact that no matter how bad it had gotten for us…it had been infinitely worse for these people…for that child.
Suddenly, all I wanted to do was get home.
10
A Geek Reunion
Kevin knelt in the snow and looked up at the woman. Her close-cropped coif did nothing to lessen her beauty. The glints of silver sparkled like tiny filaments of precious metal against the fine black hairs. Her eyes were a dark brown, so dark they almost appeared black. Right now, those eyes were staring down at him with a curious mix of contempt and curiosity.
“All the stories…and this is the infamous Kevin Dreon?” she mumbled. “I half-expected Arnold, Bruce, or Sly to appear…and instead, I get a reject from Revenge of the Nerds.”
“And you must be the infamous Major Wanda Beers.” Kevin saw a flash of surprise in her eyes. “Oh yes…I know all about you. How you have gone against your sworn oath to protect and defend. How you are now nothing more than an armed mob, looting and enslaving. I also—”
The boot to the gut caused Kevin to exhale in a great ‘woof’ of air. He doubled over, his face resting on the cold, hard snow.
“Kevin!” a familiar voice cried.
He turned his head to the right to see Shari looking at him with tears in her eyes. A trickle of blood was a bright red and smeared across her chin.
“Hey there,” Kevin managed. “Sorry I took so long.”
“We can save all these happy reunion moments for another time,” Wanda barked. “Get this one to my tent, and as for the girl, I’ve had about enough of her and the retard. If she wants to care for that useless burden, cuff ‘em together. We roll out of here in two days. We’ll see how much she sticks to her guns when we get out on the road.”
Hands grabbed him under the arms and yanked Kevin to his feet. The first shove in the middle of his back sent him face down into the snow once again. He was escorted across the camp to the largest tent and shoved inside.
“Leave us,” the major said with a wave. “Spread the word to the camp that we will be rolling out at sunrise the day after tomorrow.”
The two escorts nodded and ducked out of the tent, leaving him standing just inside the entrance. Kevin looked around and noticed, to his surprise, that there was little in the way of luxury here. He half expected to find a collection of trinkets and such. At the least, he figured that the major would have more than a government-issue cot to sleep on.
“So, you have heard about me.” The major leaned back in her chair and swung her feet up onto the desk. “That is interesting. That must mean Willa is still out there.”
“I don’t—” Kevin started, but the major was out of her chair like a cat and standing over him with clenched fists. He didn’t quite understand how he had ended up on his back, but the dull ache on the side of his face told him all he needed to know.
“Do not play me for a fool,” Major Beers spat. “I know very well that she has been out there hounding me with her useless band of castoff bitches.”
“So what do you hope to gain by all this?” Kevin asked as he scooted back far enough to allow himself to sit up.
“Gain?” the major laughed and returned to her desk. “This is not about gain…it is about survival.”
“At the cost of all those you come across?”
“You aren’t stupid, we already know that much. But are you so naïve to think that survival can come without a price?”
“I don’t know…we were doing pretty good until you showed up and raided us,” Kevin said with a shrug.
“Is that right?” the major laughed. Pulling a bottle from her desk she twisted the cap and took a drink before offering it to Kevin who shook his head in refusal. “Just take a drink, Kevin. We have some things to discuss, and maybe it will be helpful if you relax.”
Kevin stood up and accepted the bottle of vodka. He took a sip and tried unsuccessfully not to choke. He handed the bottle back and took a seat after the major gave a nod.
“So…you say you were doing okay until we came along?”
Kevin nodded.
“But when we arrived, you had four women, a retard, and a gimpy teenaged boy holding down your stronghold.”
“Actually, there was another man and his daughter—” Kevin began, only to be cut off again.
“Paul James and his useless daughter Mary? Mine. I sent them in search of you. Although I did not know who you were at the time. I had been made aware of your presence and determined that you might be a possible asset.”
“So I didn’t just leave five women,” Kevin stressed the word ‘five’ to include Valarie. He struggled to push his concern for her down for the time being. As things stood, he was currently not bound, cuffed, or imprisoned. In his current state, he still had the opportunity to help his group.
“Let’s not play with semantics.” Major Beers waved a dismissive hand. “The fact is, you had one of the most precious commodities in your care if what I’ve been told is correct. Since you are alone, I
will assume that you have either foolishly squandered that resource, or this doctor is still at large.”
“Peter is dead,” Kevin said flatly.
“Please tell me he did not perish in your foolish mission to acquire medication for the retard.”
“She suffers from Down’s syndrome,” Kevin bristled. “And I would expect you to be more sensitive to the words you use.”
“And why is that?” Major Beers raised an eyebrow, the look on her face was that of an obvious challenge.
“I don’t know…but I’m guessing that if I started referring to you as a nigger, you might get just a touch upset.”
“It’s a word,” Major Beers said with a shrug. “And you might use chink, slope, or slant if you want to include my mother’s side of the family.”
“And none of that bothers you?” Kevin asked, genuinely curious.
“It did before the dead started getting up and wiping everybody out. Now…well, I guess I have bigger concerns.”
“Such as?”
“You know,” the major rose from her seat and walked around to sit on the corner of the desk almost on top of Kevin, “for somebody who is supposed to be so smart, you are kind of an idiot.”
Kevin sat silently. He’d said enough to get her going. He didn’t want to give away anything. He was aching to ask about Aleah and Heather. Hell, he was even curious about Erin and Matt, but if he showed any sort of emotion, he was almost certain that this Major Wanda Beers would zero in on it and use it against him.
“All I care about now is staying alive. To do that, I’ve had to make choices. You can’t possibly understand—” This time it was Kevin’s turn to cut her off.
“You are pillaging folks who have struggled to carve out their own way and pressed people into service. You don’t care about anybody or anything except wielding power over others. As for what I understand…I have fought from day one to survive. Along the way, I have met a few people that joined up and came along. At some point, I was made their leader, but not because I threatened or hurt others.”