“You can let go now,” he said.
I took a couple of cleansing breaths but kept my grip. I couldn’t take my eyes from the knife still lodged in the corpse’s eye socket.
“Poppy, she’s gone. Let go,” he repeated.
Al wailed beside his daughter. Agnes stood, her hands over her mouth, not making a sound. Ellis gently pulled on my wrists and I finally released Sarah’s hair. Al wrapped one of his large hands around the knife and pulled the blade from his daughter’s head. I cringed when it audibly scraped against her skull. Al held the blade up as if inspecting it, then looked at Matt with rage. The tension in the room was thick. Matt stepped back, his arms slightly raised to the sides. As Al stood, I felt Ellis tense beside me.
Al dropped the knife, his arms going slack at his sides. He looked beaten and ready to give up. Ellis relaxed his stance.
“You all need to leave,” he said, his tone extremely firm.
“Mr. Jennings…Al…” started Agnes.
“Now,” he growled.
“The dead have us blocked in,” said Ellis, trying to reason with the distraught father.
“Go!” the man screamed, near hysterically. “Go and leave us alone!”
“We can’t leave,” said Agnes. The sadness in her voice was overwhelming.
“Go! Just go!”
Agnes crossed her arms over her chest and stood tall. “No. This is my house and I will not leave!” she said firmly.
I watched from the sidelines as Al clenched his fists and glared at the much younger, and much smaller, woman. Rage flashed in his eyes. I clutched onto Ellis’ forearm without taking my eyes from the angry man.
“Ellis,” I whispered. “We need to go. Now.”
Finally, he looked at me, his eyes questioning.
“His hand,” I said, whispering
I looked back to Al, who was trembling all over, his face red and twisted. His left hand bore the tell-tale marks of human teeth.
“Agnes,” Ellis said, his voice loud and strong.
Al turned his attention our way.
“Agnes, we’re leaving. You need to come with us,” Ellis continued.
Matt stepped toward us. “We can’t leave. We don’t know what’s out there.”
“He’s been bit,” said Ellis, not bothering to keep his voice hushed.
“Al, what are they talking about?” asked Agnes.
The man answered with a moan that wasn’t completely of this earth. His left arm began jerking hard, his bitten hand flopping back and forth.
“You can’t stay here,” the man hissed, spittle flying from his mouth.
“We hear you,” said Matt.
“You can’t stay here,” he repeated, nearly choking on his own words.
“Mr. Jennings…” started Agnes.
“You can’t stay! You can’t stay here!” screamed Al.
The man suddenly grabbed his left wrist with his other hand and pulled it to his chest. Agnes startled when the hatch behind us thumped loudly.
“Agnes! Open up!” called out an unknown male voice.
“Linus?” Agnes skirted around Al and rushed to the hatch that led to the crawlspace through which we had first entered.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
I kept hold of Ellis’ arm and we stepped backward together. Al’s left arm continued to jerk despite his holding on to it. He grunted to himself and chanted the same words over and over again. “You can’t stay here…you can’t stay here…you can’t.”
“What the hell is going on in here? Who are all these people? Oh fuck! What happened to Sarah?”
I didn’t look back to identify the unfamiliar voice. Agnes’ brother was in the room with us, and I didn’t dare turn my attention away from the bitten man.
“She fucking turned, and now Al’s been bit and he’s…” Agnes paused, not sure how she should phrase it.
“He’s turning,” I concluded.
I watched in horror as Al released his wrist, allowing his arm to drop to his side, where it continued to twitch. Dropping to his knees next to his dead daughter, he reached forward with his right hand and grabbed his shotgun, which lay on the ground partway under the couch.
“Mr. Jennings put the gun down,” ordered Linus. “Agnes, get to the other basement. I’ll meet you there.”
“We can’t just leave,” she snapped. “This is our home.”
“It’s not safe here, sis. We’ll be fine.”
Agnes looked at her brother intently before giving him a nearly imperceptible nod and proceeded to climb through the hatch in the wall.
“We’re leaving, Al,” said Linus.
Al didn’t respond. The man looked at the gun in his hand as if he wasn’t sure what it was or what to do with it.
“Let’s go,” said Matt.
“We need to grab supplies,” I said.
“No. He’s about to snap. We can pick up the pieces out there…later on,” said Ellis as he took my hand and tugged me toward the exit.
As we crawled through the most cramped part of the pathway, I came to an abrupt stop when I heard the shotgun fire.
“Keep going,” urged Linus, who was directly behind me. “When you get to the next room we need to leave through the window on the south side.”
“Linus are the dead that thick?” asked Agnes. “That window is up so high.”
“I know. The street was thick with them. The backside of the house is clear, but the drop down isn’t gonna be easy.”
Relief came when the crawlspace opened to the room through which we had first entered.
“There,” said Agnes in a hushed voice, pointing to a small window on the back wall.
The wood panel that covered our prior entryway remained fastened, but the groans of the dead filtered in.
“Once you’re out the window, drop and roll. It’s a hill, mostly moss and grass. As soon as you get your footing, follow me. I have my truck waiting not far from here,” Linus instructed us. “I can get us out of town.”
“Thanks, man,” said Matt.
I shivered when a long and shrill shriek sounded from somewhere outside. While it sounded far away, it was neither human nor animal.
Chapter Eighteen
The fall from the south-facing window was farther than I had imagined. Rolling once hitting the hill hadn’t been optional – it happened naturally. The bank behind the structure was steep, and we were luckily none of us had been injured while exiting.
Linus’ truck was a newer model crew-cab that fit all five of us fairly comfortably. He and Agnes sat up front while I sat in the back between Matt and Ellis. Linus and Matt did most of the speaking. Fatigue kept me from joining in the conversation much, but I paid attention to what was being said.
“There’s a place up north where I’ve been staying. There’s other survivors and they have their crap together. I know they’ll welcome you all,” said Linus.
Agnes was visibly distraught over the loss of her best friend and didn’t answer him. She leaned against the window to her right and tried to hide the fact that she was crying. I leaned against Ellis, hoping his body heat would help warm me up.
“What kind of place?” asked Matt.
“It’s a trailer park. Not glamorous, but they walled it in using an existing fence and random vehicles. It’s the safest place I’ve come across.”
“How far?” asked Ellis.
“About thirty miles. We’ll have to approach it from the northeast, though. The roads through Casey are blocked solid with crashed vehicles and roadblock and Stanton is crawling with infected. Looks like they set up a Red Cross camp there and things went bad. That leaves the backroads west of Casey then through Milton to the north. There’s a washed-out road west of Milton that I barely made it through, but we can cut through a forest service road off highway 230 that I know of.”
“I need to stop,” I mumbled against Ellis’ chest. He wrapped an arm around me.
“Me too. Mind if we make a pit stop?” asked Matt.
/> “No problem. There’s a good place to pull over not far from here. Let’s make it quick, though.” said Linus.
“Sure thing,” said Ellis.
Agnes sat up and looked over at her brother as he drove on.
“You hungry?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“There’s some Pop Tarts in the glove box. Go ahead and pass them out.”
She didn’t say anything but retrieved a couple foil packages of the pastries and handed a pack back to us.
“Thanks,” I said as I took them.
“Sure,” she said, her voice so quiet I could barely hear her.
I opened the pack and took one of the twin tarts out. I handed the other, still in the foil, to Matt and broke mine unevenly. I gave Ellis the larger piece and nibbled on the smaller. My stomach felt sour and I wasn’t hungry. Still, I knew I needed to eat and hoped it would help settle my stomach.
While we were still chewing, Linus pulled off to a wide area of shoulder. The other side of the highway ended in a rock face, while below us a bank joined a river.
“I’m going to head to the back of the truck to pee,” I said as we piled out.
“Mind if I come with?” asked Agnes.
“Of course not. C’mon,” I said as I grabbed onto her hand.
“Be careful back there,” said Ellis.
“We’ll be fine,” I said.
Agnes and I both quickly did our business. We didn’t speak, and she looked pale. I wondered if she was in shock. I figured she had to be. We likely all were to an extent.
“Pack it back in!” came Ellis’ booming voice. “We have company headed our way!”
“Fuck, there’s a lot of them,” said Linus. “Agnes, get in the cab!”
“They’re fast…” I mumbled.
I was going to say something else, but the thought left my mind before I could form the words. My legs felt heavy and I didn’t want to move. I was barely aware of the others in my group rushing toward the pickup. The dead were closing in. It wouldn’t be long until they reached us. My heart thumped within my chest. They were almost to us. The odor of decay stung my nose and burned my eyes.
“Poppy! Get in the fucking truck!” screamed Ellis.
“I’ve got her!” shouted Matt.
“Oh my God, Linus, you have to go!”
Agnes. Agnes was yelling, telling her brother to leave us. I had to move, but I couldn’t. The group of the dead rushed in, their clothes tattered and rotting skin flapping. Their growls were deafening. The closest, a tall man, came within four feet of me. His teeth were bared beneath a bloody hole where his nose had once been. My breath hitched in my lungs as I prepared for what I knew would be a fatal impact. Instead, gunfire rang out and he dropped away from me and onto his back. Three more shots fell two more of the creatures as they got almost as close to me as the first. Matt grabbed me just before a small woman-monster got to where I stood. He managed to lift me in his arms and kick at her, throwing us both off balance. By then, I was aware of my surroundings and in control of my own functions again. I struggled to get out from underneath Matt, who had landed on me, and he struggled to get the infected woman off him. Another shot took out one of the creatures not far away, and as Matt held the dead woman’s head up by her neck and jaw, I finally broke free. As I stood, intending to help Matt, Ellis stepped in and kicked the woman’s head. She fell backward, allowing Matt to scoot back and escape her next advance.
As Linus drove the truck forward he ran into several of the dead, allowing us just enough time to reach the bed of the truck. I was the first to scramble in, followed by Ellis and finally Matt.
“Go!” I screamed. “Go!”
The dead clawed at the outer walls of the truck bed, their hands gripping randomly hoping to get a hold and follow us in. We all shrank back toward the cab, kicking at hands and fingers, and in a few instances faces, as Linus proceeded forward.
“Fucking A! What the fuck was that?” Ellis asked me, his expression full of confusion, anger, and concern.
“I...I’m not sure. I couldn’t move.”
“Couldn’t?” asked Matt, raising his voice and struggling to catch his breath. “You almost got us killed!” His anger was palpable.
The truck jolted violently as Linus ran over infected as we fled. We sat on the floor of the truck bed with our backs to the cab. The hot sting of tears welled in my eyes. I watched as the dead behind us grew distant.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I finally managed to say. Keeping my tears in was no use. They flowed freely, and I wiped at my eyes with my forearms. “I couldn’t make my legs move. I couldn’t do anything.”
Ellis pulled me to him and held me tight. I allowed myself to cry, burying my face against his side. No more words were said.
***
Once it was safe, Linus pulled over and we joined him and Agnes in the cab of the truck. I slept in Ellis’ arms. Eventually the terrain changed and bumps in the road woke me. I raised my head from Ellis’ chest and wiped away a string of drool I left behind. I looked around, finding everyone else asleep aside from Matt, who was now driving.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Almost to the other side of Milton. We just hit Forest Service Road 230, so it’ll be a bumpy ride for about six miles, then another two or three to the trailer park,” replied Linus, who woke to our voices
Matt’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. I could see part of his face in the rearview mirror and grew concerned by his lack of expression and tightly drawn lips.
“Matt? What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. I can read it all over your face. What’s wrong?” I pressed.
“Gas is low, that’s all.”
“All? That’s all?” I questioned, trying to not panic.
“It’ll be okay,” said Linus. “There’s bound to be a car we can siphon soon.”
“No. Just no. You said six miles on this Godforsaken dirt road!”
My raised voice woke Ellis.
“What is it?” he asked through a stifled yawn.
“Everything’s fine,” groused Matt. He sounded cranky as hell.
“No, it’s not; we’re low on gas and have six miles of dirt road ahead of us,” I said.
“The light just came on a mile ago. We’ll be fine,” reiterated Matt.
“We’ll stop as soon as we come across a car and siphon some gas, but we could probably make it all the way to the trailer park on the tank’s reserve,” said Linus.
I grumbled under my breath.
Ellis leaned over and put his mouth close to my uninjured ear. “Calm down. It’ll be okay.”
I glared at him. I found being told to “calm down” demeaning.
“Sorry,” he mouthed.
The next large pothole jolted Agnes awake. She stared in front of her, not speaking. I reached forward and took hold of her hand and gently squeezed. We rode like that for what seemed an eternity. I did my best to ignore the orange gas light that began flashing on the dash.
“How much farther?” Ellis asked.
Matt looked over to the trip odometer. “Just over a mile.”
“Good. I feel like puking,” I said. The rough road was making my stomach churn.
“Hold up,” said Matt. “What do we have over there?”
Just ahead and to the left, alongside a creek that meandered alongside the dirt road, sat a red-and-tan dome tent and an old two-door vehicle. Several feet from the tent a small campfire smoldered, just barely. Matt slowed the truck, coming to a stop behind the car.
“See anyone?” Ellis asked.
“Not a soul. Maybe they’re at the river,” said Linus.
“I need to get out,” I moaned. “I’m gonna vomit.”
Ellis threw his door open and jumped out, and I hurriedly exited after him. The fresh air should have helped, but we were surrounded by the stench of decaying flesh. I turned away from the truck and bent over at my waist,
emptying the meager contents of my stomach onto the dirt roadway.
“There’s still coffee percolating on the camp stove,” whispered Matt.
“I’ll check the tent,” said Ellis.
“Hold up. Let me cover you,” insisted Matt.
I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. The pressure in my head from vomiting caused my ear to ache painfully.
“I don’t think there’s anyone in the tent,” said Agnes, her voice shaky.
We all stopped and looked at her, but she kept her focus on something in the distance. The intensity of her gaze led the rest of us to look in the same direction. At the far side of the camp site, mostly obscured by the car, lay a bloody carcass only recognizable as human due to a single intact arm protruding from the heap of bloody flesh.
“Jesus Christ,” mumbled Linus.
“It’s fresh,” I groaned, causing the others to look at me as if I were crazy. As I bent over to vomit again, I managed to mumble “it’s steaming” before dry heaving.
“Fuck. Whatever did this must still be close by. We need to get back in the truck,” said Ellis.
“We should either take the car or siphon the gas,” said Matt.
“Do you really want to search…that…for keys?” asked Linus, nodding his head toward the mound of dead flesh. “We’ll make it to the trailer park fine. We’re close.”
I ignored the conversation and walked to the car. The closer I got, I could smell the telltale scent of fresh blood. When the odor of blood and gore mingled with that of freshly brewed coffee I retched again. Reaching the door of the car, I tried the handle, relieved to find it was unlocked. I was also relieved at the resulting ding-ding-ding sound; I knew it meant they keys were still in the ignition.
“The keys are in the car,” I called back.
Ellis was already only a stride away. Walking around me, he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key only far enough to power the dash.
“Tank’s a quarter full, if that,” he said. “But it stinks in here.”
“Like what?’ asked Agnes.
“Death,” I said, leaving it at a single-word answer.
“Oh.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I added. “We’ll take both vehicles. If the truck runs out of gas we can all get into the car.”
The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection Page 21