The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection

by Lewis, M. Lauryl

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  “Al and I have this one,” said Ellis. “Matt’s dragging another one in by himself if you want to check on his progress? Just don’t overdo it with your ear thing going on. Agnes should be heading down the stairs right after Matt; she has some supplies.”

  I stepped back to give them room and met Matt at the doorway, where he struggled to pull a second mattress into the room. As soon as enough of the bed was through, I grabbed onto one of the cloth handles along the upward edge and helped him maneuver it around the sofa and onto the floor by the wall.

  “Thanks,” said Matt. “There’s one more up top, but it’s just a hide-a-bed mattress so I can grab it by myself. Want to head up with me to help carry a few blankets back down?”

  “Is it safe?” I asked.

  “For now. I think. We can hear some of them at the front and back door, but they’re not attempting to get in. Just stay quiet when you go up.”

  “Let me go help Agnes. I’m sure we can manage the mattress without you. I think Sarah’s leg has gotten a lot worse but I’m not sure. Maybe you can stay behind and look at it since you saw it earlier? Let me know what you think?” I asked.

  “Yeah. No problem. Just…” he paused. “Be careful up there. Any signs of trouble, hightail it back down. It’s safest in here.”

  “No problem. Want me to look for anything to tend to her wound?” I asked.

  “Maybe some more peroxide and some towels. I’m not really sure there’s much we can do.” He looked concerned.

  “You’re pretty worried, huh?”

  “Yeah. I know a human bite can be nasty as hell, but who knows how bad it might get from one of these dead fuckers. I think we need to watch her real close,” he said, bringing his voice to a whisper. “And you saw what happened to Connor’s grandma. We have to assume that was from her being bitten by one of them.”

  I looked over at the girl on the couch. Her father was sitting on a small metal stool beside her, adjusting the cloth on her forehead.

  “She’s burning up,” Al said sadly, to no one in particular.

  “I’ll be right there,” said Matt.

  Ellis joined me. “She looks bad,” he said under his breath.

  I turned to look at him. “I’m going to head up to help Agnes.”

  “I’ll come with. I want to get that door bolted shut as soon as possible.”

  “Matt said the dead aren’t really trying to get in,” I said.

  “Yeah, but even that has me nervous. It’s like they’re quietly plotting or something.”

  Agnes walked through the doorway with her arms full of paper grocery sacks.

  “Agnes, Poppy and I will head up to grab the rest. Something’s feeling off with the dead outside. I want to hunker down here as soon as possible.”

  “You noticed too?” she asked.

  Ellis nodded.

  “It’s like they’re up to something out there. If that’s possible,” she added. “I left a couple bags of food at the top of the stairs. The last mattress is in the office just past the kitchen and you’ll find a couple more blankets in the same room in a closet behind the desk.”

  “Any chance there’s towels up there? And maybe more peroxide?” I asked.

  “Check the hallway closet. It’s on the left just after the office. We keep towels and some first aid stuff in there.”

  I grabbed Ellis’ hand and pulled him toward the door.

  ***

  The stairway leading up to the main house was narrow and dark. I kept hold of Ellis’ hand and he led the way. The house proper wasn’t anything like I had expected.

  “Shouldn’t there be funeral rooms?” I asked Ellis, keeping my voice hushed.

  “There are. Next door. Agnes explained that the funeral home itself is above where we first came in through the window. Her granddad had it rebuilt about ten years ago when they lost the house and garage to a fire. The new funeral home is where the garage used to be, and they built this house over the room we’re staying in, where her granddad prepared bodies.”

  “That’s kind of morbid.”

  “Yeah. Someone’s got to do it though, eh?”

  “Yeah. I suppose so.”

  “The office is just back this way,” Ellis whispered.

  “It’s getting dark.”

  “Yeah. I don’t dare turn on a flashlight, though.”

  I stopped abruptly, pulling Ellis to a stop with me.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked.

  He looked at me questioningly. We both stood quietly and listened.

  A rhythmic clicking sounded near a large picture window in the living room. The curtains were drawn, but I could see light patterns moving outside beyond the drapes. The hair on the nape of my neck stood on end.

  Ellis pulled on my hand, and I followed him silently. He didn’t need to say anything; I felt the need to hurry back to the safe room, too. We stopped in the home office just long enough to grab the mattress and a handful of blankets. While he man-handled the thin cushion I carried the bedding, stopping in the hallway only long enough to grab a couple of bath towels. I didn’t stop long enough to look for peroxide or any other supplies. The clicking by the window grew louder, joined by a high-pitched keening and several grunts. By the time we made it back to the stairway, something thumped against the back door.

  As Ellis descended the staircase, I remained at the top.

  “As soon as you’re through, I’m throwing this stuff down,” I said, making my voice just a bit louder than I was comfortable with.

  “Got it,” said Ellis. I heard him instructing someone else to bring the linens in.

  I grabbed the sacks of food Agnes had left at the top of the steps. As my left foot found the top stair tread, I heard glass break in the kitchen.

  “Shit,” I mumbled. I took the steps two-at-a-time, not looking back as I heard an inhuman squeal and footfalls fast approaching.

  I stumbled through the threshold, almost falling into the safe room. Agnes was already at the door, slamming it shut as soon as I was through.

  “Someone slide the board in!” she yelled.

  I backed up, bags still in hand, as Al grabbed the piece of wood and slid it into the metal grooves on either side of the door frame. The door thumped several times before the creature on the other side began clawing at it.

  “It should hold,” said the older man. “They don’t make them solid like this anymore.

  “There’s going to be more behind it,” I said. “I heard it break in through the kitchen.”

  “Guess that exit’s toast,” said Matt.

  “I don’t like just having one escape route left. As far as we know they’re waiting out there too,” mentioned Ellis.

  “There’s still the smoke stack,” said Agnes. “From the crematorium.”

  “Yeah. That’ll lead to the roof, right?” asked Al. “Good thinking, Aggie.”

  “We’d have to knock the rain cap off, but it’s big enough to squeeze through. There’s also the dumb waiter. Granddad hadn’t used it in years, but I bet it still works.”

  “Dumb waiter?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s a platform they use to lower the bodies down. Back in the day it was the easiest way to bring them down, but when we rebuilt after the fire we put in a stair elevator.”

  “Is that what the metal track on the stairwell is?” asked Matt.

  “Yes,” said Agnes. “It attaches right to a gurney.”

  The creature on the other side of the door slowed its effort to gain entry, the frantic clawing becoming longer and slower fingernail strokes.

  “We need to leave here,” I said.

  “Sarah’s not up to moving,” said Al. “I can’t leave her.”

  “Of course not,” Matt said, validating the other man’s concern.

  “And I can’t leave until Linus makes it back,” added Agnes.

  “Aggie, honey, you have to realize he might not make it back. It’s hell out there,” said A
l.

  “No. I’d know if he were dead. He’s my twin; I’d feel it…here,” she said as she placed a fist over her heart.

  “Aggie, where was Linus when you last heard from him?” asked Al.

  I could see the pain on her face and felt bad for the woman. “Seattle.”

  “Let’s hunker down for the night. We can regroup after a few hours of sleep,” suggested Ellis.

  “I’ll tend to Sarah’s leg,” said Al. “It’s not looking so good.”

  “Let us know if you need any help,” offered Matt.

  “Will do.”

  ***

  Ellis and I took one of the mattresses. Al insisted on sitting on the floor next to Sarah, and Agnes set him up with some pillows to sit on and a blanket to keep warm. She and Matt each claimed one of the other two beds.

  The night promised to be chilly. The walls of the room were concrete and cinder block, and the cold seeped in. I laid on my side so that my injured ear faced up and let Ellis curl up behind me. His body heat was welcome and his touch endearing. We shared one bed pillow. He kept his face near my neck and shoulder, careful not to touch my ear. We lay there quietly. As tired as I was, I found it impossible to fall asleep with the scraping sounds from the creature in the stairwell and the occasional whimpering from Sarah. Ellis wrapped his upper arm around me, and our hands mutually found each other. I turned my head a bit, hoping to connect with him visually. The only light came from a candle near Sarah.

  “Do you think she’ll make it?” I asked, careful to keep my voice quiet. I didn’t want Al to hear me.

  Ellis pushed himself onto an elbow and looked down at me. “I wish I knew. She looks bad, though, like her leg’s infected and spreading. And it’s happening fast.”

  “Maybe the antibiotics will help.”

  “Maybe,” he said as he leaned down and pressed his lips against my forehead. “Are you having much pain?” he asked.

  “Not too much. I mean it’s bothersome, but I’ll be okay.”

  “I can grab you more Tylenol.”

  “No. Save it for Sarah. I’ll be fine.”

  “You better be,” he said, kissing my cheek before lying back down behind me. “Try to sleep.”

  As I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind, I listened to every noise in the night. Sleep breathing, the creature clawing, Sarah moaning, Matt crying quietly, Al yawning, the water spigot over the sink dripping. Unsure of how much time had passed, I whispered into the darkness.

  “Ellis?”

  “Hmm?”

  “It smells bad in here.”

  “I know. Sorry, I haven’t had a shower in a while.”

  “No. Not just B.O…it smells like something rotten.”

  “Might be the dead thing clawing at the door.” He sounded on the verge of sleep.

  “Maybe.”

  I closed my eyes and listened to the various sounds. Sleep was finally starting to consume me when Al yelled out, startling me.

  “Sarah, honey, you have to take it! Damnit, ow!”

  “Al, need help?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah, maybe turn the lantern on? Sarah needs to take her pills but she’s delirious.”

  “Do you need some water?” asked Agnes.

  “Thanks, Aggie. I have a bottle here. But maybe if you have any apple sauce or pudding or something we could crush it up and get her to just take little bites? We used to do that with her grandma in her last stages, when she refused to eat.”

  I gingerly climbed out of bed and stood. Muscles I didn’t even know I had ached.

  “I used to give my dog her pills in peanut butter,” I said. “They can’t spit it out.”

  “That I know I have,” said Agnes.

  Sarah thrashed about, and random noises came from deep in her chest. The sounds were far too like those of the dead outside. It didn’t take long for Agnes to produce a jar of peanut butter. Matt and Ellis helped gently hold Sarah’s arms down while Al opened the antibiotic capsule and mixed it into a small bit of peanut butter. The scene was pathetic. Agnes ended up holding her friend’s thighs. I joined them, doing my best to help with Sarah’s legs. The woman’s injured leg was swollen even more severely than when we had all first settled in to sleep. The red patches were turning dark brown and some bordered on black. Green discharge fully soaked the pillow used to elevate her leg. The rotten smell, without a doubt in my mind, was just that - Sarah’s leg rotting. I looked up and met Ellis’ gaze. He, too, looked gravely concerned.

  Al slid a small spoonful of laced peanut butter into his daughter’s mouth. She responded by snarling and gagging on the substance.

  “Sarah, please,” he begged. “You won’t get better if you don’t swallow it.”

  The sorrow in his voice was heartbreaking. The young woman clearly didn’t hear her father. She struggled under our grip to get away from us. Agnes let go of her friend’s thigh with one hand to wipe tears from her eyes. That release of pressure was all it took for Sarah to strike a blow with her foot. She landed a kick to my ribs, knocking the wind out of me and sending me doubling over in pain.

  “Hold her down!” shouted Ellis.

  “She’s too strong,” cried out Agnes.

  Sarah’s back arched upward as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her face turned beet red and the muscles of her neck and jaw strained. Blood gushed from her mouth.

  “Her jaw’s locked on her tongue!” shouted Al, his voice full of distress.

  As soon as I was able to draw a deep enough breath and stand upright, I rushed forward to help.

  “Get her on her side,” I forced out the words. “It’s probably a seizure.”

  We all attempted to roll her onto her side, but her body met us with too much resistance.

  “She’s too stiff,” grunted Matt.

  Sarah’s infected leg fell toward us as we managed to finally twist her partly onto her side. The skin around her bite wound was so tight that it broke open, spilling a chunky green and brown substance onto the floor. The smell was something of a cross between rot and feces. As quickly as her body stiffened, it went slack. She almost fell onto the floor.

  “Get her back over,” Matt barked.

  “Oh God,” said Agnes very quietly at first. “Oh, God, no…she’s not breathing!”

  “No,” said Al. “No. No, Sarah, c’mon, kid.”

  “Get her on the floor so we can start CPR,” urged Ellis.

  “No. No, you can’t touch her!” I cut in. “She might be contagious.”

  Al looked at me like I was crazy. “We can’t just let her die.”

  He continued to tug at his daughter’s lifeless body, struggling to move her onto the hard floor. Her face, only a moment before bright red from straining, was already turning a deathly blue-gray.

  “She’s gone. The infection was just too much for her,” said Ellis as he placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Al.”

  The man wept and stopped trying to drag his daughter’s body to the floor. “She’s all I have left…”

  Agnes got down on her knees and embraced her best friend’s father. “I’m sorry,” she whispered through her own tears.

  The two comforted each other while I placed a blanket over Sarah’s lower half. My main goal was to hide her wounded leg and the gunk that now covered her, the couch, and the floor. Agnes pulled the blanket up to cover her friend’s lifeless face. Not knowing what to say or do, I left Al and Agnes’ side and returned to our mattress on the floor. I wanted to reach out, to be of some sort of comfort, but knew there was nothing I could do to ease their pain. Ellis sat beside me and wrapped an arm around me.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “I’m just not sure.”

  “We need to leave,” said Matt as he knelt in front of us. “It feels like a death trap in here. The stairs are blocked by the dead, and the window we came in through likely is too. And we know chances are good Sarah’s going to turn.”

  “One of us will have to wait for it to happen,”
I said, keeping my voice low to spare those mourning. “It’s not fair to ask either of them to do it,” I said, nodding in the direction of Al and Agnes.

  “It’s not just that. We need to move her body. It’s already ripe in here and whatever infected her is some fucking bad shit,” said Matt.

  “We have to give them some time to grieve,” said Ellis. “But yeah, we need to leave. Soon.”

  “I’ll sit with the others and keep watch,” said Matt. “You two try to get at least an hour sleep.”

  I looked over at the sad scene sofa-side when I heard Agnes begin sobbing.

  “Get back,” I said before I was fully on my feet. It wasn’t the distress in Agnes’ tone that alerted me. It was the single noise between her sobs; a single brief grunt that didn’t belong in the world of the living.

  “What?” asked Agnes, as she wiped her face with her sleeve.

  “Get away from her,” I urged as I lunged forward.

  The dead girl’s father and best friend looked at me without understanding. Ellis caught my arm before I could get too close to the trio.

  “She’s coming back,” Matt said, his voice unusually calm.

  The dead girl’s covered body began to sit up.

  “Lay down, Sarah” pleaded Al, who instead of retreating leaned in toward his daughter.

  The blanket fell away from her face, revealing eyes that were already clouding over and skin paled by death and marked with streaks of green. Sarah snarled.

  “See, she’s not dead!” yelled her father.

  “Al, get back!” shouted Agnes as she pushed the man aside.

  Matt and I reached the reanimated girl first. I grabbed her hair in both of my hands and pulled her head backward, forcing her torso down. She was strong, making holding her head still difficult. As Al scuttled forward from where he’d fallen off his stool, Matt drove a knife into the dead woman’s left eye. She fell still, and Al moaned in agony, as if he himself had taken a blade to the head.

  My hands still clung to the dead girl’s hair. Ellis placed his hands upon mine, wrapping his arms around me.