Infected Planet

by Dennis Yates

  The girl shook her head. She swept a hand over us, checking for additional weapons. When she found our knives, she tossed them into a pile several feet away. When I took a quick glance around, I noticed Laura was missing. Where would she have gone? I wondered. Was she somewhere close by, waiting to get us out of this mess?

  “Where’s Laura?” I asked Jade.

  “I don’t know,” Jade said. She swayed for a moment before righting herself.

  “Can’t you let her sit on the ground?” I asked the girl again.

  Her eyes burned into me. I could sense her fear level, see her finger moving lightly on the trigger. “No one is doing anything until we say so.”

  "I'll go find grandpa," the other girl said. We listened as she ran down the stone path leading back to the house.

  It felt like hours before the old man and the girl appeared. He looked frail and yet his bright blue eyes told me he was someone not to be taken lightly. Clutched in his fist was the sawed-off.

  Grandpa limped around us, not saying anything. The sawed-off hovered above our heads while our knees burned in the hot sand. I noticed he’d stopped in front of Trevor. He stuck the shot gun beneath Trevor's chin and forced him to lift his head.

  "Do I know you?" he asked in a gravel voice.

  Trevor nodded. "Yes sir. I'm Trevor Partridge."

  Remington bent closer, squinting. "I don’t know you from Adam,” he said, waving the sawed-off in front of the boy's nose.

  "Don't you remember me?" Trevor asked. "You and my father knew each other from way back."

  "And who might that be?"

  "Robert… Robert Partridge."

  The old man thought about it a moment before slowly nodding. Then he appeared agitated and suddenly cracked the barrel against the side of Trevor's temple. A bright string of blood tricked down into his beard. The boy gritted his teeth while struggling to stay upright.

  "I'm not losing my mind!" Grandpa shouted.

  "I never said you were Mr. Remington."

  The old man stared down at Trevor's face. "Come to think of it, the last I heard you were working for some especially bad Pilgrims. Do you mind telling me why you broke your parents' hearts and did something stupid like that? I've been meaning to ask you if I ever got the chance."

  Trevor glanced at the man's dusty leather shoes. You could see his crusted toes sticking out of the worn ends.

  "I wanted out of Lazarus. It was all I could think about."

  "Why?"

  "Why? I hate it here."

  "How can you say that boy? This is paradise."

  "No, it’s not. You’ve got to be crazy to believe that.”

  “Are you calling me crazy?”

  Trevor shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that, Mr. Remington. It’s just that you and my dad see things differently than people my age.”

  “Are you sure of that?” A smile eventually broke on the old man's face. He lowered the gun from Trevor’s head.

  "What are you doing grandpa?" one of the girls asked. "How can you be sure he's not lying to you?"

  “Because I felt the same way when I was his age. The boy's been honest.”

  “But how do you know for sure?”

  “I can see it in him. It’s something that can’t be faked."

  Doc Remington reached down and helped Trevor stand. He padded closer to the boy and stared into his eyes.

  "Tell me what you're doing here Trevor."

  "We came for help. There’s someone with us who needs medical attention."

  "Was she bit?"

  "No."

  "And you’re not here to rob or kill us?" the elder man asked.

  "No sir," Trevor said. "I would never do that to one of my father's friends. We're practically blood."

  "Do you know anything about an aircraft that went down outside of Cranston a month ago?" I asked, changing the subject.

  The old man’s eyes narrowed. "I might."

  "Any information you have could help."

  "And if I tell you what I know, you'll be on your way in a couple days?" He asked.

  "Sooner," I said. "If that's what you want."

  Doc Remington glanced over at Jade and shook his head. Her deathly pale face was wet with tears.

  "I'm not going to ask you to leave until I'm sure your friend is out of the woods. I haven't gone completely savage yet."

  Remington turned toward his granddaughters who still had their rifles trained at our heads.

  "What do you think?" he asked them.

  They both lowered their weapons and stepped back. Doc Remington undid the cloth around Jade's hand and whistled through his teeth. He gently touched her forehead with his palm.

  "Looks like you did what you could to stop the bleeding. There’s no sign yet of infection but she's burning with fever. Show them in, girls.

  Chapter 6

  The exposed part of their home blended in almost perfectly with the red canyon wall. Inside, it strongly resembled a war bunker. Light poured through gun turrets in the rock exposing an impressive arsenal of weapons and ammunition. Toward the back there was a kitchen and a shower with a curtain wrapped around it. Meat dried on hooks hanging from the ceiling. Woven baskets made of stripped bark kept fruit and vegetables, the kind you could find in the wild if you knew where to look.

  We lay Jade on a blanket near the clay stove. A pot of simmering bone broth and desert herbs instantly brought back a flood of memories from my childhood. One of the girls lit several candles and set them in carved out shelves about the room. We were shown a water cistern back in the cooler part of the cave and allowed to drink as much as we wanted.

  The old man grabbed a worn leather suitcase and popped it open. Inside was a collection of medical equipment and rows of medicines. He picked out a vial of antibiotic and a fresh needle. The other girl swabbed Jade's arm before the doctor tapped a vein and stuck the needle in. As soon as he was done, he found another needle and injected her with something he said would help her rest.

  As soon as he was satisfied he’d taken care of Jade the best he could, Remington appeared to calm. Treating the sick seemed to be what he lived for. I was feeling grateful for Trevor bringing us here and smiled at him across the room. She’s got a chance now, I thought. A boost to keep her fighting.

  We sat quietly for a long time, watching Jade’s eyes move beneath her lids. I wanted to ask Trevor and Ramos where they thought Laura had gone. I decided to be careful and not tip off our host.

  The old man, however, must have been reading my mind. “That friend of yours helped herself to my motorbike,” he said. “Does this mean the rest of you are thieves as well?”

  “We hardly knew her,” I said. “She was only with us for a couple of days.”

  Remington nodded like he believed me. He turned toward Trevor and frowned. "I'm sorry I hit you, boy. Do you want me to take a look at that head of yours?"

  "No sir," Trevor said, running his hand over the knot above his temple. I was amazed he hadn’t been knocked out cold. “I think I'll be OK."

  "Have you met my granddaughters before?" Remington asked.

  I could see the young women were blushing when their grandfather asked them to come forward into the candlelight. For the first time, I realized they were twins. I guessed they must have been in their early twenties, and yet they appeared far wiser than their years. Life on Lazarus did that to the those too stubborn to die.

  "No sir. I’ve never met them before," Travis said, obviously smitten by their presence.

  The doctor pointed with his chin. "The one on the left is Aria and her twin sister's name is Iris."

  "How long have they lived here with you?" Trevor asked shyly.

  "Since the day their parents went into Cranston to buy supplies and never came back.”

  "It still doesn’t mean they’re dead,” Iris said evenly.

  I felt a lump lodge in my throat. I looked up and saw Remington was watching me. His hot temper had retreated and left behind a bitter s
adness. Much like my own father, he was racked by worries and restless sleep. Wondering how much longer he’d be able to protect his loved ones and teach them more skills so they could adapt and survive.

  "Granddaughters," he said. "I think it's time for another patrol."

  The girls nodded solemnly and collected their guns before leaving through a passage hollowed out behind their dwelling.

  “Can you tell me again why you’re here on Lazarus?” Remington asked.

  "We were sent to find the President’s son,” I said.

  “And no one told you about what was happening?”

  “We were told nothing.”

  It was obvious Remington wasn’t ready to completely trust us and I couldn’t blame him.

  "You’re several days too late,” said the old man. “That group of stinking cowards were headed toward the McCarthy the last time anyone saw them.” Remington grinned. “No sign of them since, unless you think four of those scarecrows up the ridge are still worth worrying about.”

  “How did you know they were with the President’s son?” I asked.

  “Because word had traveled across what’s left of the cactus telegraph. After being robbed blind and left to starve, the President’s boy joined up with the worst type of bandits you could imagine. They slaughtered families I knew. Robbed them of whatever they had and burned down their homes.”

  I have to admit I was feeling skeptical about Remington’s story. How did I know for sure he and his granddaughters weren’t clever bandits playing host before they slit our throats while we slept?

  I blinked back a flood of horrific possibilities. My paranoia was having such a good time with me I wondered if I was going mad. Remington handed me a cup of water and I took a drink before the idea of it being drugged had time to stop me. It was the best water I’d tasted in years.

  “Did the gang you’ve been talking about come down here?” I asked.

  Remington shook his head. “Not all. Most of them kept moving by. Some especially bloodthirsty ones crept down and attacked us, robbed our house and ran. After my wife was killed trying to stop them, something awoke inside the girls and I, a primal anger that outmatched our attackers. We dressed our wounds and paid a visit to a hidden weapons cache outside, prepared to bring on death.”

  I glanced at the others and could see they were also starting to feel uneasy about our host. If he was as crazy as he sounded, who knew what it would take for him to decide we were a danger and he needed to kill us all.

  The old man’s eyes were ablaze. “Later that night after burying my wife, the girls and I rode out to find the murderers. At that point we were set on killing every last one of them.”

  “Did you?” I asked.

  Doc Remington shook his head. “Their camp wasn’t hard to find. They hadn’t caught up with their group but seemed entertained by the whiskey they’d stolen from my house. The girls wanted to drop rocks on their heads after they passed out. I convinced them a quick death didn’t seem fair, so we decided to force them into the McCarthy with their meager supplies. At dawn, we sent the bastards running for their lives, right into the mouth of hell itself.”

  Gunfire suddenly pierced the night and caused us all to jump. The old man glared at us.

  “What kind of trouble have you brought with you?”

  “We’ve done no such thing,” I said.

  We took up rifles and stared outside. The moon was still climbing and it was yet too dark to make out much.

  The door burst open and Iris came running inside. “They’ve got Aria cornered. She needs our help.”

  Remington hobbled across the room as if he planned to join her but Trevor grabbed him by the arm and held him.

  “I’ll go,” the boy insisted.

  “No,” the older man said. “You’ll get yourself killed.” After a moment, however, he stepped aside. He knew Trevor was in better condition to help.

  Iris met Trevor’s eyes and nodded. They gathered up weapons and sprinted for the door. Moments later Ramos and I were heading out to join them. We hadn’t seen what direction they’d gone until the canyon was lit up with gunfire.

  “This is bad,” Ramos said.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” I replied.

  “You should talk.”

  We kept running down a path with no idea of what to expect. There was another explosion of gunfire, and for a split second we saw them. I staggered back from the shock. I couldn’t believe how many rotters were surrounding us. Why hadn’t we heard them coming?

  Our attention was suddenly drawn to the drum of hooves coming from above. Up on the moonlit ridge I saw the outlines of riders sitting atop horses. I felt the hair rise from my scalp.

  “Do you see them?” I asked.

  There was no time for Ramos to answer. He was pointing toward the direction of the gunfire. Aria had her back next to the canyon wall with rotters pressing closer. Trevor and Iris were running toward her, picking off the dead as they passed them. There were so many that the path they cleared was quickly refilled with more.

  “This way,” Ramos shouted. We took a trail leading down to where Aria was boxed in. The path was dark and steep and I half expected to find myself twisting an ankle and plummeting the rest of the way. As soon as we reached bottom we joined Trevor and Iris and began hacking a way through to Aria.

  But we were too late.

  She’d run out of ammo and the damn things had already started in on her. Her screams curdled my blood as she thrashed around to free herself from the multiple jaws pulling at her flesh. I glanced over at the others, saw them nod back at me. I raised my rifle and shot Aria through the brain before she suffered any more.

  There was no time to mourn. My mind raced with fear when I saw there were more rotters lurching from behind. I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before we too were completely engulfed and torn to pieces.

  We heard the old man shouting and saw that he was standing on a hill to the south of us. A horde of rotters were shambling up to him. He held a thick-barreled rifle he hadn’t shown me before. When I saw the tank strapped to his back I understood. The crazy old man had one final trick up his sleeve.

  Remington aimed the homemade flame thrower and set a half dozen rotters bursting into flames. They stumbled down the hill, reaching out at us with smoking fingers before collapsing into heaps of ash. The fires attracted more undead and they headed in the direction of the old man.

  “Up here! Take me you sons of bitches!”

  Every few moments Remington shot another burst of fire into the next wave of approaching rotters. He was bellowing with crazy laughter.

  “Get back to the house!” the old doctor ordered us. “While you still have time.”

  “We’re not leaving without you,” Iris screamed back at him.

  But her granddad ignored her. He kept backing up the hill with the rotters climbing toward him, groaning with hunger. This is suicide, I thought. We’ve got to stop him before it’s too late.

  “Take Iris back to the house,” I said to Trevor. “Ramos and I will follow the stubborn bastard and try to be there when he runs out of cooking fuel.”

  Trevor nodded and took Iris by the hand. Pulled her with him while she cursed to be let go.

  It wasn’t hard for Ramos and me to follow the old man. He’d gone down the other side of the hill and entered a slot canyon. The rock passage was narrow and hard going, but we’d managed to get through it without being bitten.

  As Remington’s tank ran low on fuel, the bursts from the flame thrower weakened. Ramos and I tried to move faster, but the rotters kept impeding us.

  The slot canyon finally opened up onto a dry river bed dimly lit by the moon. Up ahead we saw Remington turning more rotters into staggering balls of fire. The flame was much weaker now and the next time he aimed it at a group of the undead, it sputtered and died. Shortly after we heard Remington shriek before going silent.

  We ran towards him, hoping it wasn’t too late to do something but know
ing deep down it already was. A rotter stepped into a pool of moonlight, carrying the old man’s glistening intestines. Others behind it also held steaming morsels.

  “We’ve got to get back to the others,” Ramos said.

  ****

  Remington’s trail of smoldering rotters led us back to the house with few encounters. It seemed as if the undead had gone looking elsewhere. If you listened hard enough, you’d know it wasn’t the case. You only needed to hear the undead once to recognize their longing calls for flesh.

  At the house Jade was up and pacing the room. She still looked pale and slightly feverish but moved normally.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded.

  “We need to leave,” I said. “How do you feel?”

  “Better, I think.”

  “Where is my grandfather?” asked Iris.

  “He didn’t make it,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t believe you. I’m going to stay here and find him.”

  Ramos placed a hand on her shoulder. “We have no choice. Those things are headed back here. There’s just way too many of them to deal with.”

  “Come on Iris,” Trevor said. “You have to go with us. Help us gather what we can and get the hell out of here.”

  Iris swung at him and he caught her hand before it hit his face. “It’s your fault they’re here,” she shouted. “You told them about this place. It’s you who got my family killed.”

  Trevor took her by the shoulders and hugged her to his chest. “We made certain no one followed. I swear. You have to believe me.”

  “I know hardly anything about you,” Iris said, pulling away. I thought she might have decided to shoot us. Make us pay for what had happened. Ramos must have thought the same thing, for he was also keeping an eye on the revolver she had tucked in her belt.

  “Listen,” I said. “We’re going to need weapons and food if we want to stand a chance out there.”

  “Take what you want,” Iris said. “Grandfather was right to think you were a bunch of thieves. Everyone who comes here is.”

  I shook my head. “We’re not thieves, and we’re not here to kill you either.”