by Brown, TW
“Why don’t you say something, you silly cow?” Vix asked with a laugh. “You two have been elbow to elbow the past several days. I don’t think he has ever had a girlfriend if I were to guess.”
Gemma was silent for a moment. A single tear welled up and trickled down her cheek. She turned her head and scrubbed it away, took a deep breath, and then faced Vix with a look of absolute sorrow carved into her normally pretty and cheerful features.
“I had my first kiss the day the zeds came,” Gemma said. Her voice started in an almost inaudible whisper, but grew louder and stronger as she continued. “His name was Dale Lipton and he and I went to the cinema that night. He was an absolute lamb…took me to see the new Tom Hanks movie. Thought I didn’t catch him staring at that movie poster with all the blood splatters and the girls in bikinis, the stupid oaf.
“So we went in and watched the movie, I even let loose with a good cry at the happy ending. He was the sweetest thing, even handed me a tissue to wipe my eyes. The credits were rolling and we were getting up when there was this terrible scream…”
Vix shuddered involuntarily. Nobody alive today could have possible managed to live without having heard that sound. A person being torn apart has a scream unlike anything else.
“We were just standing there. I don’t think either of us knew what to do. Then…the doors flew open and a bunch of people came in. They were all bloody and torn up. Some of them were trying to fight off what turned out to be zombies. It was a mess. Then that woman came in…” Gemma’s voice trailed off and Vix thought that the younger girl might be finished.
“She had her insides falling out of this ugly rip in her belly,” Gemma eventually spoke again, staring off into the distance, obviously seeing it all in her mind’s eye. “Dale stepped between me and her even though we were about fifteen rows away. He turned to me and kissed me quick…right on the lips. I don’t think he knew that was the first time I had ever been kissed by a boy that wasn’t family. He told me to run and pushed me away towards the other exit.
“I only went a few steps, I was watching him as he ran into that mess and tried to pull another boy free from one of those things as it was tearing into his arm and pulling away a good chunk. There was so much blood. And then that woman reached out and grabbed Dale from behind. Her head came back, and for some reason it reminded me of a snake about to strike. I wanted to yell, but nothing came out and all I could do was watch as she tore into the side of his neck.” Gemma went silent and Vix reached over and held the girl’s hand.
Together, they watched the zombies continue to trudge by. They sat there for almost an hour before the last of the stragglers was well gone. Without a word, they got up, brushed themselves off, climbed down from the roof where they’d perched, and headed back to see if the way was clear to get to the cottage.
***
Mackenzie was frantic. She woke to discover the bed empty. That had not been such a big deal, but when she got up and walked out into the hall that led to the living room, she felt her heart skip a beat. Juan’s machete was on the floor. She rushed to the living room proper.
The front door was open! One of the small panes of glass was broken, the glass still scattered all over the floor; although it had been disturbed. Something had been dragged through it…and it looked as if whatever it was had been cut by the jagged shards.
She rushed back into the bedroom where Tigah lifted his head and began to observe the woman. Mackenzie saw Juan’s clothes from the night before still tossed on the floor where she had thrown them as they undressed each other before making love.
Dressing hurriedly, she ran outside and looked around. The morning was just breaking, and a low fog clung to the ground in places. She also easily spotted a set of drag marks. Somebody had taken Juan—that much was now certain.
Her mind swirled at the improbability of it; especially after the amazing response at last night’s meeting. Juan did not have a single enemy on the island…that she had known of. He was always one of the first, if not the first, to help when others needed it. He had gone on every single supply run to date and pulled more than his load. Plus, he was simply one of the biggest teddy bears she had ever known. One of the best barometers in her mind was the reaction of children. They just seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to people. Children loved Juan…dogs too for that matter.
Mackenzie started to follow the tracks and stopped suddenly. Whoever did this obviously meant harm. She ran back to the house and grabbed her machete as well as Juan’s crossbow. There was no telling what she would find at the end of this trail. It would behoove her to be prepared.
Juan was dragged through the yard and to the street. Unfortunately, that is where the trail seemed to end. Searching frantically, she began to run along the road towards the closest houses. After ten minutes or so, she stopped. Tears threatened, but she fought them off. She needed to keep her mind focused.
She ran back to where the trail ended. The other direction was fewer houses, plus, she knew the residents better. These were some of the earlier arrivals. However, a thought was beginning to form in the back of her mind. She did not like it in the least, but it was becoming like a thorn with the insistence of its presence.
She barely cast a glance as she passed the first two houses. She came to the third and felt her mouth go dry. The tracks were there, leading across the lawn to the gate that opened to the back yard. Standing there for a few moments, Mackenzie warred with what to do. She knew Juan was inside. What she did not know was who else besides April Cable might be in there with him.
Turning, she ran back. There were a few people that she could almost certainly count on. She realized that every single second would be precious, but she would do nobody any good if she rushed in blindly.
She was actually proud of herself for being so level headed in the moment. She was fighting against everything in her that screamed that Juan was in danger and needed her help. Besides, if whoever it was—and right now all signs pointed to April—had simply wanted Juan dead, they obviously had the opportunity.
And she ruled out somebody killing him and dragging the body away. That just seemed highly unlikely. Whoever this was, they wanted Juan alive for some reason.
April! the voice in her head screamed. It does you no good to try and deny it. You already know who…and you are pretty sure that you know why.
A moment later, she found herself on a porch that she had been steering clear of for quite a while. Ever since Juan had discovered that she and Keith Thomas had been engaged at one point, he had been visibly uncomfortable whenever she and her ex were in proximity of one another.
Knocking on the door, she was surprised when a younger, dark-haired woman wearing nothing but a towel answered. “Yes…wait, you’re Mackenzie. Right?”
She nodded and was just about to speak when the woman (although Mackenzie doubted she was much past nineteen, and therefore would hardly qualify as such) hollered over her shoulder. “Keith, Mackenzie Sims is here!”
Hmm, she thought, she knows my last name…Keith has obviously told her at least something about me. She quickly dismissed the notion and chastised herself for being so petty; especially considering the situation.
“What’s up, Mack?” Keith came to the door wearing a pair of tattered gym shorts. Mackenzie got the feeling that she had just interrupted something.
“Juan—” she started, but Keith cut her off.
“Did he hurt you?”
“What? No…nothing like that.” She only spent a split second wondering why men always went there first, like every guy but them is a woman beater. With a shake of her head to clear it, she continued. “He was kidnapped last night.”
Keith was staring at her skeptically. Meanwhile, the young woman was gaping in open-mouthed fascination like she was watching a daytime soap.
“Juan is a pretty hefty fella,” Keith finally said. “Maybe he just went out for a stroll.”
“No!” Mackenzie snapped. She gave a very b
rief synopsis of what she woke to discover, as well as the events of the past few days regarding April’s seemingly peculiar fascination with her and Juan.
“You think it is some sort of fatal attraction crap?” Keith asked over his shoulder as he went to his bedroom to get dressed.
“I don’t know what it is,” Mackenzie called back, starting to get edgy at the amount of time this was taking. She did not think that April would kill Juan right away. She had something else in mind. The problem was that Mackenzie did not know what exactly the woman was up to…or just how much time she had before it would be too late.
“C’mon!” Keith startled Mackenzie out of her train of thought. She was suddenly embarrassed as she realized that she was wearing a pair of sweats and carrying a machete and an unloaded crossbow. Meanwhile, Keith was in his field gear with weapons hanging from practically everywhere.
The two headed out after he gave the towel-clad girl a quick kiss. At a brisk jog, they were at April’s house in moments. They were moving quietly through the back yard when they heard a female voice shriek.
“I AM NOT CRAZY!”
***
Kyle crawled on his belly through the tall scrub. Much to his discomfort—as well as the others he was sure—there was an inordinate amount of thorns, thistles, and other skin prickers mixed in with the otherwise innocuous weeds. Because everything was a parched brown in color, it had been impossible to tell just how bad it was until they had been forced to their stomachs by a roving patrol of at least five individuals; all armed with actual rifles.
He watched until the group disappeared around a corner and then turned to address the other two who were sharing in his misery. “Next time they pass, I will start a count. We should probably let them go by at least three times to see if they are regular or if they are spaced out.”
Nobody had any arguments, much less any better ideas, and so they simply made it a point to lie as still as possible. Eventually, the same group—Kyle had already made it a point to look for a few identifiers—passed by. He began counting, using the old schoolyard “one alligator, two alligator…method.
That gave them all a chance to get a better look at their surroundings. The house actually looked like it had been owned by a very wealthy person. It was a mansion that would rival many from the Palm Springs area that they were so familiar with. All of the ground floor windows looked to have been boarded up. The second and third floors were curtained with what looked like some very heavy drapes which were drawn in many, but not all, instances. A few opened out to balconies, but so far, there had been no sign of anybody coming outside onto any of them.
There had been an occasional shadow that indicated somebody or bodies were moving around in the huge residence. Mel had pulled out her binoculars to get a better look, hoping that she might get a peek at the woman she had all intentions of killing, but Glenn had stopped her.
“The sun might reflect off the glass and give us away,” he warned. She cursed herself for almost doing something so careless.
At last, the group of roving guards passed by once more. Kyle had reached just over six hundred alligators. The second and third time proved to be almost identical.
“They are walking a set path,” he announced.
“Well I noticed a few things as well,” Glenn whispered, having kept his own observations to himself in order not to cause his brother-in-law to lose his count. “For one…they are more interested in their conversation than in paying any real attention to their surroundings.”
“That probably means that they have been free to do what they want for a long time,” Mel said.
“But if this is somehow tied to Xander, then they must know we are out searching.” Glenn glanced over at the woman with an expression that invited her to continue with her explanation.
“Old habits die hard,” Mel whispered. “Besides, they may not think we would dare try anything in the middle of the day. A night attack is much more likely…except we don’t have any way of pulling one off.”
“I hate to say this,” Glenn braced himself before continuing, “but we don’t really have what it takes to pull off a day attack or a night attack. In case you missed it, they were all carrying guns.”
“Which means that we are going to have to be clever,” Mel replied as if it were a reasonable and rational suggestion.
Glenn glanced over at Kyle and hoped to see some support…or at least a glimmer of common sense. There was simply no way that they would be able to make an attack on a group of armed guards.
“It will be tricky, that’s for sure,” Kyle said; more to himself by the way he was staring off into the distance.
“Tricky?” Glenn fought to keep his voice down. “It will be suicide!”
He looked first at Mel, then at Kyle. Neither seemed to be paying him the least bit of attention. Kyle was studying the grounds or perhaps the path the group of sentries walked; it was impossible to tell. Mel was on her back staring off into space, but it was clear from her expression that her mind was going at a million miles an hour.
For the first time since this entire nightmare began, Glenn considered the unthinkable. His first priority was Cynthia…pure and simple. He loved his brother- and sister-in-law dearly. He loved Xander almost like he was his own. But when it was all stripped bare, it was Cynthia that mattered; she came first.
What these two were considering was going to get them killed. If he died, his beloved wife would be alone. It was not an option. He hated that his mind was making this series of decisions so quickly, but he had to do what he thought was right.
Kyle spoke and broke the spiral that Glenn’s mind had sent him on. He was already feeling the sourness of shame churning in his belly.
“If I wait until the next time they pass, I can get a piece of line tied off to that water spout on the side of the house. If we wait until they are right on it and I pull, we trip some if not all. From there, we rush them. Mel, you could set up in that little corner under that big window. If we hit them from both sides…I think we will have a much better chance.”
Glenn felt the words slam into a mental dam. There was just no way that he could do this. He could not…no, he would not jeopardize himself on a mission doomed to fail. He owed it to Cynthia. Every version of this scenario ended in failure as he played it out in his mind.
“Guys…” he felt the lump in his throat triple in size.
“Go,” Kyle said. He turned to face the man. Glenn expected anything from anger to confusion. What he saw was genuine understanding.
“Yes, Glenn,” Mel echoed. “You go back to Cynthia. Keep her safe…and hopefully we will see you soon.”
***
Chad stood and stretched his aching back. He’d been bent over for so long that he doubted he would ever stand straight again. Setting down his weapon, he placed his hands right at the small of his back and leaned until he was practically able to see what was behind them. Of course the answer to that question was simple…more zombies.
He peeled off his gloves and shook his fingers out to try and ease the cramps that were building levels of pain that rivaled what he felt in his back. He noticed a couple of blisters that had formed and eventually popped. That was quite a feat considering how calloused they were from all the manual labor this past year.
A breeze kicked up sending a cold chill through his body. The stench of the bodies down below rode on that breeze and made him gag just a little. No matter how long you were exposed to it, the smell of the undead was just not something that a person ever got used to. Even Ronni stirred a little in her sleep.
Chad had actually woke her at one point just to see if she might be in a coma. Her eyes had flickered, and in a voice that was barely above a whisper, he heard one word.
“Daddy?”
That had been enough to shake him out of his morose emotional state. He would not give up. He had to stuff the shame of where his mind had wandered up until that moment into a dark hole and pray that he buried it deep enou
gh so it never returned. He had gone so far as to hold his knife to his daughter’s temple. His logic had been that anything was preferable to being eaten alive. He would end her and then himself. However, thinking it was one thing; actually committing the deed was another thing entirely.
Looking out across the growing number of undead, Chad had determined that he would resume killing them. He would shift his position every so often to keep the bodies from piling up all in one spot. When the time came that the first one could gain any sort of purchase on their tiny island of stone, he would make another appraisal of the remaining crowd and adjust his plan accordingly.
He had stabbed the faces of men and women for longer than he believed his body capable. The one thing that he noticed—although to be honest, it was a fleeting thought that clung to the back of his mind and hardly made its presence known—he had not seen any children; at least none under the age of ten or twelve by his reckoning.
It was during this break as he scanned the crowd and tried to get some idea of how many remained that he thought he did see a flash of what might have been some zombie children, but they were gone almost as soon as he thought he saw them, and so it vanished from his mind.
He was well into his second session of killing as the sun began to hide behind the mountains in the distance. He had become so automatic with his actions that he did not notice how his body had begun to slide forward just a little every so often after stabbing or yanking his weapon free.
What had once been a large man had worked its way to the front of the crowd. It raised its hands in an impotent attempt to grab Chad. Just as he had done to countless prior to this one, Chad raised his arms and then thrust down with a solid stab. However, this man was abnormally tall, and the way that Chad had almost gone into a trance as he killed worked against him.
The point of the weapon came down, catching the zombie behemoth just below the nose. It went into the mouth and then the throat. The blade lodged in a spot just inside the collar bone and actually got caught in between a couple of ribs. Chances are, he could not have repeated that shot again if he took it a hundred times.