by A. Rosaria
She shot him in the back of the head. The bullet left a tiny entry wound and came out the front, taking his face with it, and sending brains, skin, and bone across the gold grass. She kicked him, sending him facedown to the ground.
The sun disappeared behind the horizon, casting the world around her in darkness and her heart with it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was dark when he arrived back at the camp. The bike ran out of fuel near the town‘s border; he had to walk the remaining distance. With the wide berth he took around the town, it took him almost an hour to reach the place.
“Brenda?”
He walked into the clearing where he had left them. They were not there.
“Brenda!”
She wouldn‘t just leave, not after asking him to join her. He hated to think something bad had happened, but if she was not here that was exactly what had happened. Someone or something must have made Brenda and Skip leave this place. It would be impossible to track them down with night setting in. The little time he had before it went all dark, he should use to find a place to spend the night. It was too open to stay here for long without someone to watch his back. It was too close to the town and it already been attacked once.
Ralph walked back to the camp and went through the mess. He had an almost clean and intact sleeping bag in his hand when he heard leaves rustling behind him. He whirled about. Out of a bush came a large figure lurching ahead.
“Skip?”
The man stopped in his tracks and raised his head. They stood motionless, looking at each other. Then the world burst into noise. Skip crashed forward, growling, and Brenda came running from the other side waving for Ralph to get away. She had a tick branch in her hand, which she swung down, breaking it on Skip‘s head and making the large man stagger. Ralph stood paralyzed, not understanding what the hell was going on.
“Do something,” Brenda yelled as she backed away from Skip, throwing the remainder of the branch on the ground.
Skip faced Ralph and only now Ralph saw the feverish eyes staring back at him. Skip had been right all this time. He was dying, and now he was in a delirious rage before he actually died.
“Move!” Brenda yelled.
She didn‘t wait for him. She bolted away and disappeared into the foliage. Ralph needed another second before he moved out of the way. Skip chased him, close on his heels. Ralph went the way he saw Brenda disappear. Skip came crashing after him. Brenda ran for a clearing, and he sped after her, barely keeping the gap between him and Skip. He followed Brenda down a slope leading back to the road. As he dashed forward, he jumped over holes, branches, and roots sticking out. Skip tripped over a branch and fell, and kept rolling after him like a human snowball, leaves and dirt sticking to him. Ralph went up the road as Skip crawled back up without slowing down as if he had never fell. Brenda scooped up a large stone and threw it. Ralph had to duck for it not to hit him square in the face. It passed over his head and smashed into Skip‘s throat, sending him crashing down, unable to breathe. The big guy turned purple, while thrashing on the ground.
Brenda grabbed Ralph‘s hand. “We need to keep moving.”
“What happened to him?”
She pulled him away. While running on the road, she looked down, searching for anything. It was now that the initial adrenaline rush was leaving his system that he noticed he still held the sleeping bag. It must have been a silly sight, him running down the slope with a sleeping bag clutched in his fist followed by a giant crazy simpleton. It would have been funny if it wasn‘t so sad. A friend was dying, suffocating, and there was nothing he could do to help him.
“Brenda, stop!”
“We should get as far as possible before he turns.”
“He‘ll be unable to catch up to us.”
She shook her head while she pulled him to keep moving. “Not all who turn end up slow. Those who die after a bite are quicker, much quicker. Ralph, they can go as fast as a slow run when turned. I‘ve seen them slowly turn after one bite, wake up, and dash forward, snapping teeth at anything that moved. It‘s later that they get slower. Most people who are attacked and turn are too mauled to be much faster than a crawl, but if you‘ve noticed, they still are faster and quicker than the ones that have been dead longer.”
It couldn‘t be true or there was more to it. The one jumping around at the hospital looked as if it had been dead a long time. Certainly a few days, and they were all much faster than the ones he faced on the first day of the onslaught. This was nasty. To survive, they needed to know what was going on, and hopefully Sarah would find the research compound.
“Come on, move faster,” Brenda yelled at him. She was not stopping anymore to pull him to move. She was nervous, very nervous about what was about to happen. He had no idea where to go. They had no weapons on them and it was nighttime. They could use some sleep, but with things the way they were, that wouldn‘t be anytime soon. He ran to cover the distance between him and Brenda.
“Where is your gun?”
“It jammed.”
“What happened?”
“Some time after you left, Skip woke up with a fever, talking crazy. He was yelling at me to run, that it was coming. I should have listened and just run.”
“You didn‘t?”
“No, I didn‘t.” She stared straight ahead. “I gave him one of those pills. It didn‘t help. He started thrashing and screaming for me to shoot him. It was then that the gun jammed. I was about to bash his head in with the gun, but he hit my hand and I let go of the gun. He still tried to contain himself, else I would be dead.” Tears rolled over her cheeks. “He yelled for me to run and I did. I hid in the bushes, knowing I wouldn‘t be able to keep up with him for long once he started chasing me. He looked for me for hours—that is until you returned.”
“Why didn‘t you warn me earlier?”
She didn‘t answer him immediately. She slowed down to a stop, still not looking at him. She sagged her shoulders and sighed. She faced him, her eyes lowered. “I was scared, scared he would get me. I just couldn‘t scream out. It was only when he went for you that I could move. I froze, okay, I froze!”
Somewhere far behind them a wail rose up in the night.
“It‘s him. He has turned,” Brenda cried out and started running.
Ralph realized his mistake. He should not have run after Brenda. Instead, he should have stomped Skip‘s head in, and now he would pay the price for his reluctance. One little slip could get you killed in this world and he had just slipped.
He chased after Brenda, hoping that they were far enough for them to escape. He ran on, hoping Skip wouldn‘t move faster in death than in life. Ralph caught up with Brenda, who was slowing down and showing fatigue. He could leave her and outrun Skip, but that would be a death sentence for Brenda. No way could she fend off Skip without having a weapon. It was lucky she found the stone when she did and that Skip was still alive, a dead guy would have been harder to get down with a stone and with only the use of one arm.
“Leave me, save yourself,” Brenda said.
No way could he live with himself if he left her to die. He had left someone once already and regretted doing so. No way would he leave another one behind. They would have to figure something else out and fast. If Skip caught up to them, he would have to stand his ground and allow Brenda to flee. If someone had to stay behind, it would be him. His wail was closer now and worse were the moans and growls they heard coming from their left. They sounded close, too close, He couldn‘t see them yet; the star-filled sky gave him too little light to see by. He had no idea how many zombies were nearby and could only hope that at least they were slow ones. He grabbed Brenda‘s hand, pulling her along to run faster than she really could. She was panting heavily. The moans grew fainter, but Skip‘s wail grew. He was gaining on them fast.
“See if you can find anything to defend yourself with.”
He didn‘t have much hope she would. He saw nothing, and she sounded like a train loosing steam. She
couldn‘t keep running at this speed for much longer. It was as he had feared; he had to face Skip. He ran for another minute. He pushed the sleeping bag into her hands.
“Brenda, don‘t stop running. No matter what you hear, don‘t come back.”
Ralph stood in the middle of the road. He didn‘t have to wait for long before he heard Skip‘s howling and heavy footsteps. Ralph braced himself for what was coming. Darkness broke away as Skip charged straight at Ralph, running fast but in an uncontrolled way, like a barrel that was loose on a rocking ship in the middle of a perfect storm.
Ralph front kicked Skip in the balls, felt the soft meat squish under the pressure of his feet. Anyone else living would have been sent to the ground, writhing in pain, though not a dead man. It was a reflex that made Ralph make the same mistake twice that day. Skip bashed his body against Ralph, sending him toppling over the asphalt road. Ralph rolled away from Skip‘s grabbing hands. Kicking the ground, he pushed away from the big man. Skip gave him no respite as he lurched up. Ralph aimed a kick at the big man‘s knee, crushing it. Skip staggered forward, arms swinging wildly. Ralph kicked again. Skip made a knee fall. Ralph kicked Skip‘s chest, but the zombie didn‘t budge and instead latched onto Ralph‘s leg, pulling him closer.
Ralph couldn‘t fight against Skip‘s sheer strength. His chest was pressed against his upper leg as Skip pulled him in and held onto his leg. Hopping on his other feet, he did his best not to fall. He really only needed one little push to send him sprawling to the ground. With both hands, he held Skip‘s head away from him. He couldn‘t hold out much longer like this. He had to do something. He pushed with all his weight, sending them both to the ground, him on top of the zombie. Kicking and hitting, he tried to get away. The zombie relentlessly grabbed onto him again, dragging him back down. Ralph grabbed the zombie‘s neck, chocking him and at the same time pushing himself away from the teeth. There was no sense in choking that which was already dead, and he could only keep himself away from the snapping teeth for so long.
Moans, yelling, and growls carried into the night from somewhere down the road. His time had run out. He might be able to keep Skip from sinking his zombie teeth into him for a while longer, but those zombies approaching were free to devour him unopposed. It was now or never to get away and get rid of Skip.
Instead of pushing, he pulled instead, lifting its head up and quickly bashed it down on the hard asphalt. He did it again and again, his muscles straining with the effort. The zombie‘s movement became erratic. He caught a glimpse of a couple zombies breaking the fog of night. This was it, his last chance. He pulled Skip‘s head back as far as he could, his muscles screaming with the effort, and bashed it, putting all his weight behind it. A loud crack and the zombie fell limp. He had done it. He had delivered Skip from his zombie fate.
Ralph scrambled up and ran from the approaching zombies. He saw Brenda close by, watching pale-faced and wide-eyed, the sleeping bag loosely held in her hand.
“I told you to run and not come back.”
She shook her head in replying and pointed at his biceps. The sleeve had rolled up in his struggle, showing the bite. A trickle of blood slipped down. He rolled his sleeve down. In their fight, Skip must have nipped him. It was all right, just a small bite. He got away with his life; that was what counted.
He grabbed her hand and together they ran, not stopping until silence fell and only their heavy breathing and footsteps remained. They sat down in the middle of the road, sweaty back against sweaty back, blowing their lungs out, unable to talk for a long while, too busy catching their breath. When he finally had some to spare, he asked her again why she did not flee as he told her to.
“I couldn‘t go on alone. I came back to help, but when I saw you go down and him burying his teeth in you, I just couldn‘t move.”
It was scary what happened; he barely made it out alive. And how much could she really have helped with only the use of one arm. All this running already had paid its toll on her. He didn‘t say anything in return. It was best he let it go and move on. Though before doing that, they needed to find a secure place to spend the night.
She started crying. Ralph didn‘t know what to do or say to her. He didn‘t get why she cried. Hadn‘t they survive to live another day? He sighed. Despite feeling awkward about it, he turned around and hugged her. Brenda stiffened when he did, but slowly relaxed and gave in to his hug and buried her face in his chest. When the tears stopped running, she pushed herself free from his embrace.
“It‘s been all for nothing,” she said, looking up at him with her bloodshot eyes. “You‘ve been bitten.”
It took a moment for this to register and then he smiled.
“I already told you, I‘m immune. I showed you my scars. This will just be another one.”
“You also told me Skip would live,” she said accusingly.
Yes he did, and he had believed Skip would, though hindsight showed he had been stupid. He couldn‘t possibly have known Skip was resistant and if he indeed was, he didn‘t know for sure he couldn‘t get infected. It was also true that he was just assuming he was immune to this virus. What if the virus mutated? How much would his immunity last, then? That was if he really was immune. He knew little about how this infection worked. Most things he knew was what he experienced and he had filled in the holes of what he didn‘t understand with assumptions. Guess work—that was what it was really.
“I was wrong about him.”
“What if you turn and come after me, what then?”
“I‘ll bash my own head in before that happens.”
“Would you really do that for me?”
She wiped a tear trickling down her cheek. He cupped her hand. “Sure I would. It‘s the least I can do. I wouldn‘t be able to live with myself knowing I caused your death.”
Not that he would do much living or regretting if he became a zombie, but just the idea what he might do if he did sickened him. What had happened with Skip wouldn‘t happen with him, not if he was in control to do something about it.
As he stood up, he helped her to her feet. “We need to find a place to hide.”
“Too bad I couldn‘t possibly find the camp in the dark. It‘s really not far from here.”
“I figured that much. Let‘s get off this road.”
The trees stood close to each other, making it pitch black in between. It was not a welcome sight. From experience, he knew it wasn‘t as bad as it seemed. Once he stood inside the cover of the trees, he would be able to see more, especially with the clear sky full of stars. Still, it wasn‘t the wise thing to do, to venture far inside the forest. It would be a guarantee they would get lost if they lost sight of the road.
They went among the trees, seeking any shelter that would do. However, it was too dark to find anything by sight. About to give up, they walked past a thick tree. He made a wide berth around it, while Brenda brushed close to it. She cried out as she fell. Ralph turned around and saw her go down a shallow hole and disappear from sight. She hit her wounded shoulder and screamed in pain. He jumped after her and muffled her before she would attract any zombies to their location. She bit hard in the ball of his hand, grunting out the pain. She clenched her teeth so tightly that she drew his blood. He had to keep from yelling; it hurt like a mother fucker. She let go of him after a long while and her pain lessened. She whispered an apology.
“This is a great spot,” Ralph said, focusing on something other than the pain he felt.
It was dug in the base of a huge tree, surrounded by bushes—the perfect spot to hide out of sight. And difficult to walk in unless you happen to step in the right spot, trip, and fall inside, like what happened to Brenda.
“Umm, hurt finding it though. Again sorry I bit you.”
“Never mind that. It‘s okay, really. We just have to keep our ears open in case any zombies heard you screaming like a little girl.”
Brenda laughed quietly. “I am a little girl.”
“Tiny maybe, but not littl
e.”
Time passed and they heard nothing besides the critters coming out to make their nightly sounds—the insects chirping, the wind rustling through the leaves, and the occasional owl‘s howl. The sky clouded over, covering them in darkness. Sitting opposite to Brenda, he couldn‘t see her anymore, but he knew she was still there by her uneven breathing.
“I think we are as safe as we‘ll ever be outside. Take the sleeping bag. I‘ll manage on my own.”
It would be cold, a price he was willing to pay to be proper. He‘d cover himself with twigs and leaves. It won‘t be comfortable, but in their current situation, it was better than nothing. Brenda rolled the sleeping bag out and got in.
“Join me,” she said. “It will be too cold, but together our bodies will keep us warm.”
He didn‘t know about that. Her being that close to him, a pretty girl, much younger than him. He felt awkward about it, and guilty. Guilty because of a dead girl and because of Sarah. That farewell kiss meant something, and it felt like a betrayal if he shared a sleeping bag with another girl. Though Brenda was right, together they would keep each other warmer, and her being injured, she might need it.
“Come on, don‘t be silly. I won‘t bite.”
Ralph chuckled. “You don‘t? My hand says otherwise.”
“Yeah, I‘m sorry about that. Please, just join me. I don‘t want to be alone.” She choked whatever else she wanted to say.
Putting his apprehension aside, he wiggled next to her in the sleeping bag. They lay face-to-face, her hot breath on him. Goodnight she whispered and quickly kissed his cheek. “Thank you for helping Skip, for being there for me, for trying.”
He had no words to offer. There had not been any special thought behind what he had done. It just seemed like the right thing to do. He had done bad things, things to survive. What would become of him if he stopped trying to help those in need?