“Hey. Are you doing okay?” asked Ellis, pulling me from my bad memories.
I blinked and stared at him blankly for a few seconds.
“Yeah. Just thinking about my uncle.”
“Does he live near here?”
“No. He died a long time ago,” I said without offering an explanation and he didn’t inquire.
“I think that’ll do it. It really could use stitches but for now a couple butterfly bandages will have to do. I also want you to stay awake for the next few hours. Just in case you have a concussion.”
***
“Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable in the living room. We can eat while we watch the news and figure out what to do next,” said Hazel. “Ellis, help me serve the stew?”
“Sure thing, boss,” he said.
Clarice stood near the threshold to the living room, looking shy. Her long brown hair was damp, and she smelled of soap and shampoo. Her eyes were red and glassy from crying. As I quietly walked past her, I reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. She followed me to the living room and we sat next to each other on an overstuffed blue-and-red plaid sofa. I was surprised when the girl leaned against me. I’d never been a touchy-feely person but wrapped my arm around her. I leaned into the back of the couch and closed my eyes. I was so tired, and my head ached.
“Hey.”
The voice sounded distant and I wanted it to go away.
“Poppy. Wake up.”
As someone gently shook my shoulder, I forced my eyes open.”
“C’mon, you can’t sleep just yet.” It was Ellis. It took my mind a moment to realize where I was.
“I’m so tired,” I mumbled.
“I know, but you need to stay awake for a bit. I brought you a bowl of my sister’s stew and a cup of coffee. Take it easy on how much you eat, though. After hitting your head, you might throw up again.”
I groaned. “I forgot I puked. And I stink.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Hazel with her mouth still full of stew.
She was standing, closing curtains while she ate. The room was quickly darkening. Clarice was sitting in an easy chair on the other side of the room, sipping on a can of soda. I couldn’t blame her for moving away from me, as I was sure I was rank.
“How long was I asleep?” I asked.
“Just a couple minutes,” said Clarice.
“What’s up with the dark room?”
“We’re closing the curtains just to keep prying eyes out. It’s not likely anyone is out here cause we’re pretty hidden, but with whatever’s going on I don’t want to take a chance,” explained Ellis.
I nodded. The small bowl of stew in front of me smelled rich and comforting. I leaned forward and picked it up, quickly settling back against the sofa. The movement made my head spin, forcing me to close my eyes again.
“Just take it slow,” said Hazel. “Just try a couple bites for now.”
I opened my eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning before putting a small spoonful of carrot and beef into my mouth. It tasted good but made my stomach roll in protest.
“Easy,” soothed Ellis as he took the bowl of food from my hands and set it back on the coffee table. “Hazel, can you turn on the news?”
“Yeah. The TV in the kitchen wasn’t broadcasting anything new, but we can try one of the cable stations in here.” She walked to a modern flat screen perched on top of a short table against the far wall and grabbed a remote control. Within moments a news broadcast flashed on the screen, but there was no sound.
“Who’s older?” I asked out of curiosity. “Of the two of you?”
“That’d be me,” said Ellis. “By what is it…eleven months, Hazel?”
“Eleven and a half,” she answered.
Hazel clicked another button on the remote and the room was suddenly filled with the sound of the television, which was set at an obnoxiously loud volume. I took a deep breath in hope of clearing my head and focused on the screen. Familiar newscasters sat at a desk, but they were talking over each other and seemed rattled. The volume steadily lowered to a tolerable level.
“This is the same footage as two damn hours ago. They’re just looping it,” said Hazel in frustration.
“Try a local station.”
The channel soon changed and instead of a newsroom, it showed a crowd outside of a school. Children were crying, and several adults looked like they were brawling.
“Oh my God,” said Clarice. “What is this?”
Ellis stood. “That’s Jennings Middle School over on 187th and Broadway. I did some remodel work there last summer.”
“That’s blood,” I said quietly.
“They’re sick,” said Ellis. “Look at that man in the background. He’s gray and looks like he’s about to fall over.”
The image on the screen flickered and an unfamiliar national broadcast station took over.
“This is new,” interrupted Hazel.
“Shhh,” Ellis hushed his sister.
The woman on the screen coughed into the crook of her arm. She held a hand up, supposedly to the camera operator, as if signaling them to wait. The scrolling banner at the bottom of the screen stopped in the middle of a sentence. …early morning hours an ICBM has hit the shores of… The screen went blank for a moment. When the image returned the anchor was slumped forward on the desk, unmoving. The scrolling words at the bottom of the screen were stuck on …North Korea and China fell… Before any of us could piece things together, the broadcast ended.
“Change the channel,” instructed Ellis. His voice was strained.
I watched as Hazel tried to use the remote control.
“The power’s out,” I observed. The dim light from a single lamp beside the sofa shut off at the same time as the television.
“Fuck,” mumbled Hazel.
“Watch your mouth, Sis. If Gram hears you she’ll flip out again.”
“She’s asleep,” she answered.
I looked at Ellis, confused.
“Our great-grandmother lives with us. She’s really old though, and not doing well. Spends most of her time asleep.”
“I need to take a lantern into her room. If she wakes up and it’s dark she’ll fall,” said Hazel.
“Can I come with you?” asked Clarice.
“Sure. She might say weird things, though. She has late stage dementia and doesn’t know who we are most of the time.”
“My grandma was like that before she died,” said Clarice.
Hazel held a hand out and Clarice took it. They walked down a dark hallway together, a small flashlight guiding their way. It left us sitting in the dark with only a scented candle burning in the room.
***
“I’m tired. I need to sleep,” I said as I yawned.
“I’ll grab you another cup of coffee. It’ll be cold soon anyway,” said Ellis.
“Not sure I can hold it down,” I admitted.
“Feeling sick?”
“A bit.”
I leaned forward and put my face in my hands, my elbows resting on my knees. The smell of the stew on the table in front of me started to make my stomach roll in protest.
“I think you have a concussion. No sleep for now, sorry.”
I couldn’t hold it in anymore and began to softly cry into my hands. I was tired, nauseous, my head ached, and I couldn’t get the images of Karly’s collapsed and broken-open head out of my mind.
Ellis made a noise of distress next to me. I ignored him and continued to cry into my hands. His body weight shifting made the couch move just enough to almost send my nausea over the edge. He wrapped an arm around me and awkwardly pulled me to him. He didn’t say anything at first, and his body felt tense as if the action of comforting someone else was a discomfort to him.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into my hands as I sat upright, freeing him.
“No worries. You’ve been through a lot. When Hazel’s done downstairs I’ll have her get you set up for a shower, before the hot wa
ter in the tank gets cold. Maybe that’ll help wake you up and make you feel better.”
“Maybe. What do we do next? We need to find help. Something…”
“I know you’re right, but we need to keep our heads cool about it. Clarice wants to go find her mom.” He paused and looked concerned.
“What is it?” I asked quietly.
“I’m just not sure we can get there safely. St. Therese is quite a way from here, and deep into the city. It’s risky without knowing what the hell is going on out there. And now I feel responsible for her. And you.”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” I said, slightly offended.
“I’m sure you can manage, but humor me? After all, you’re injured.”
I looked sideways at him. Before I could respond, a loud knocking at the front door caused me to jump. I took note that Ellis startled, as well.
“What do we do?” I whispered.
“It’s okay. It’s my buddy Mike; I know his knock.”
He stood and left me by myself in the living room. Being alone brought to me a mild sense of panic and I found myself hoping that he or his sister would come back into the room soon. I felt dizzy and laid down on my side, taking up most of the length of the sofa. There were no toss pillows, but I found someone’s hoodie draped over the armrest. I bundled it up and tucked it under my head as a makeshift pillow. A room over, I heard Ellis greeting his friend. Before Ellis could say much, the other man’s voice boomed. His tone was rushed and loud. It was alarming enough that I sat up to listen. My head swam briefly. I wasn’t sure if I should stay put or join them in the other room.
“Ellis, we need to go,” said his friend. “Now.”
“Tell me what you know?” asked Ellis.
“It’s a mother fucking war out there, man. I don’t know who’s behind this but there’s smoke in the streets in Seattle and before the radio went out the news reported bombings at Grand Coulee, Chief Joseph, and Colombia power plants.”
“Christ Almighty,” said Ellis.
“It’s worse, man. Close the fucking front door.”
The front door closed hard, echoing through the house.
“Where’s Hazel?”
“Downstairs with Gram.”
I stood and followed the sound of their voices.
“Grab her meds and your bug out bag. I have the RV packed and waiting,” said Mike.
As I rounded the corner, I did my best to blend in with the walls. Ellis’ friend was on the short side with ebony skin and a shaved head. His eyes were wide, and he seemed confused when he saw me.
“Who the hell is she?” he asked.
“That’s Poppy. I’ll tell you about her later.”
His demeanor concerned me. He seemed half crazy and…off somehow.
“Okay man, whatever. I didn’t plan on anyone extra, but if she’s with you we’ll make it work.”
“I can’t just leave her, Mike. There’s one more downstairs with Hazel. A teenager named Clarice.”
“Damnit, what the hell, Ellis? You know there’s only enough at the shelter to last three to four people for six months.”
“We can figure that out later. Tell me more about what’s going on out there.”
“It’s bad, man. Sick people are dropping like flies and then reanimating and attacking people. It’s like a damned zombie fest.”
Ellis half-coughed-half-laughed.
“What do you mean,” I asked, interrupting them.
“I mean the sick people are fucking eating people. Like they’re feral or rabid or something.”
“Where’d you hear this?” asked Ellis.
“The news. And I’ve seen it. Roads are blocked, power’s out, and it’s like a blood bath out th…”
Mike’s sentence was cut off by a shrill scream from the basement. The sound chilled me to the core. The men both jumped into action, springing forward and running toward the stairway. The screaming continued and was filled with pain. I stayed where I was, frozen in fear.
Footfalls landed hard on stair treads, immediately followed by one of the two men yelling.
“Hazel! Hazel!”
“Oh my God!” it sounded like Ellis, who was softer spoken than his friend Mike. “Gram! Hazel, what the fuck happened?”
More screaming interrupted the voices, begging for help. Deep down, I knew it was Clarice. The sound of something crashing to the floor left Mike shouting in anger. The sound of a gun firing was immediately followed by silence; the screaming ended. Not sure what else to do, I crouched down and shrank into the corner.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” yelled one of the men. His voice was too twisted to determine who it was. A second shot rang out, followed by a female sobbing.
“Upstairs, now!” shouted Mike.
“You shot them!” sobbed Hazel.
“Just get upstairs. You’ll understand later. We need to leave, Hazel. Now.”
“Fuck, Mike. What’s going on? She was ripping her apart,” moaned Hazel. “Oh, Gram…”
Someone punched or kicked a wall or door, and after a long silent pause, footfalls ascended the stairway. I stayed where I was, hoping the shadows were enough to hide me.
“Both of you, get your bug-out bags. It’s not safe here.”
“Gram…” whispered Hazel, who was clearly shaken.
“That wasn’t Gram. That was some kind of monster, and they’re all over the streets. Someone’s fucking bombed us, Hazel. Something’s gone wrong and we need to get to the family stronghold. You know Dad wanted us to keep it prepared in case the country was attacked, and that’s what we did. So, let’s go,” said Mike.
Hazel looked from Mike to Ellis. I was confused about how they were all related.
“We need to make sure Clarice is gone,” said Ellis, who seemed to be fighting to remain calm.
“I did. No pulse. She couldn’t survive what the old woman did to her. You know I had to do it; it was the only humane thing. Don’t look at me like I’m evil. Some of those…things…were down the road only half a mile. We need to get the fuck out of here,” Mike said with dead calm.
“Okay,” said Ellis. “Hazel, grab the bug-out bags? I’ll get the duffel bag of guns.” He stopped and looked around. “Where’s Poppy?”
“We don’t have time to look for her,” insisted Mike.
I cleared my throat, figuring being left behind might be worse than going with, despite Mike seeming to be a loose cannon.
“Poppy, we need to go,” said Hazel through her tears. Her face was swollen, her eyes red, and her nose runny from crying.
I quietly stood and moved out of the corner, and unsuccessfully tried to control my shaking.
“Mike, stay with her while we grab our stuff,” instructed Ellis.
This guy scared me and being in his charge was not a pleasant thought. As Ellis and Hazel left the room, I kept my eyes on the man. He raised his eyebrows at me and kept his gaze on my face. I did the same, not trusting him.
“What’s your story?” the man asked me, breaking the awkward silence.
“I was in a car accident. Ellis pulled me out.”
“He’s always been one to bring home stray or injured animals,” he said under his breath.
“Gee, that’s not at all offensive,” I said, irritated. I was tired, scared as hell, and not in the mood to joke around.
He half laughed in his throat. “Pull up your pant leg,” he directed.
I looked at him questioningly, and when he didn’t explain I went ahead and lifted the cuff of my jeans up past my ankle. The man knelt and strapped a sheath to my ankle before sliding a hunting knife inside. He rearranged my pant leg to cover it.
“You need to be able to fight if it comes to it. I’ll show you some basic combat moves later.”
He smiled up at me, which gave me chills. His dark eyes were menacing.
Chapter Four
Mike’s RV was an old motorhome that had seen better days. The blue and white paint of the body was faded, and a large dent
marred the front passenger fender. We climbed inside, and Mike took the driver’s seat, with Hazel beside him. Ellis escorted me to the rear of the rig, where a padded bench and backrest sat across from a small dining table.
“It’s a bit of a drive. About four hours in normal traffic. I can stay back here and keep an eye on you, but it’s been a few hours since your wreck and I think you’ll be okay to sleep a bit. I’ll wake you up every thirty minutes to be safe, though. Sorry.”
I was relieved to hear I’d be able to sleep. I sat at the table across from the couch while Ellis pulled a blanket and lumpy pillow from the cabinet above me.
“Your friend’s scary,” I blurted out.
“He’s a bit abrasive. I’ve known him pretty much my whole life. I trust him. Just try to ignore his lack of charm.”
I nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Okay. It’s all yours. Try to sleep, and I’ll wake you in thirty to check on your head.”
I got up and stumbled to the makeshift bed, where I untied the knife from my ankle and gladly laid down and covered myself with the blanket, which smelled old and musty. Still, I was grateful for the warmth. I felt sleep trying to embrace me as soon as I was horizontal.
“What’s the family stronghold?” I asked as I drifted off.
“Sleep. We’ll talk about it later.”
If he said anything beyond that, I was unaware.
***
Jolted awake by the sudden swaying of the motorhome, I sat upright too fast and my head swam.
“Fuck, Mike! Watch the road!” shouted Ellis grumpily. “You okay?” he asked me.
“Yeah. I just sat up too fast.”
“Ellis, get your ass up here. Bring your gun,” came Mike’s booming voice from the front of the RV.
“What is it?” Ellis called up front as he quickly stood and grabbed a pistol from his seat at the table.
I quickly stood, and immediately felt woozy. While he reached the front of the RV before me, I was quick on his heels and tried to take in the scene around me. The RV came to a sudden stop, causing Ellis, Hazel, and me to stumble.
“There’s people standing in the road,” said Hazel. “They’re not moving.”
The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection Page 3