The Last Days (Book 4): The Dead Live On

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The Last Days (Book 4): The Dead Live On Page 7

by Julie Cooper Brown


  I went up to Evan and softly told him “It’s okay. You can put the gun down now.” I put my hand on his arm and gently pressed to make him lower it. He was still looking at the bloody wall and clearly in disbelief of what he’d done.

  “I had to, Jill. I fuckin’ had to. He was coming for me. He woke up and he was crazy looking, and came at me! He was one of those things in the video, Jill. I had to. Oh my God, Jill! I killed him!” He put his face in his hands and wept. There was nothing I could do to console him. He was the one who had remained calm through all of this, and I had never seen him break down in this way. Killing Jimmy was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. I knew he was going to need a little time.

  “It wasn’t Jimmy anymore, Evan. He would have killed you,” I said with tears blurring my vision and I rubbed his back, he shrugged me off. I didn’t take offense. I went into the bedroom, got the blanket off the floor and covered Jimmy’s body. And that was the end of Jimmy. We loved him; he would’ve done anything for us. This was truly a loss.

  I sighed and told Evan I was getting a shower. I was too shaken up to enjoy it so I made it quick. When I came out Evan had regained his composure and had put our back packs and bags in front of the door. I dressed and we got our things and took a last look around. We would never see our home again. We threw our belongings in the truck and Evan went to see if Old Joe would leave with us. He didn’t answer. Evan tried the door and it was unlocked, and he peeked his head in and pulled it back out quickly and shut the door. When Evan got in the truck he only said “Old Joe cannot come with us.”

  I didn’t want to think about why Old Joe couldn’t come with us. I told him we were going to go and get Evelyn. We rolled up in front of her house and I ran up to the door and was going to knock but it was partially open. I took a deep breath not knowing what I would find and pushed it the rest of the way open.

  Evelyn was lying on the chaise lounge, head tilted back and her mouth was open and a book in her lap. I didn’t see the cats that were usually fighting for space in her lap. I felt her wrist for a pulse and there was none. I saw the empty bottle of sleeping pills I found for her yesterday on the stand next to her. I understood immediately.

  That bottle was almost full when I found it for her. She had overdosed. She did not suffer. I contemplated shooting her so she didn’t come back. I even put the gun to her head. I found I could not pull the trigger. I went out and pulled the door shut behind me. When I got into the truck Evan looked at me and I told him, “She’s dead.” He didn’t say anything, he pulled away from the curb and we headed north up the Tamiami Trail to the shelter they had supposedly still working on up in Punta Gorda.

  It was only twenty miles. The one in Cape Coral would’ve been closer, but they had built a barricade around the city a few days ago to keep anyone from going in or coming out, and it was too dangerous to head to the one in South Fort Myers, we would have had to go through downtown and there would be too many infected, there. We would never make it.

  Well, Evan is awake now, he’s not in the condition I was hoping he would be in, and I am terrified. He’s a Halfer.

  He spoke to me and his voice is gravelly and deep, not his own. He asked me to untie him; he said that he loved me and that I smelled so good. He said for me to give him a kiss. I did not.

  I think I am losing grip on reality here, or I’m just becoming numb. I got the joint I rolled few weeks ago out of the bottomless pit I call my purse, which, somehow oddly enough, I managed not to lose. That’s unbelievable! I can lose it in ten minutes at the bar. It’s filled with things that are all useless now, ID’S, social security cards, prepaid cards, Wal-Mart and Winn Dixie receipts and our cell phone. Well, that’s not completely useless. I can still tell the time, take pictures and look at the other pictures and videos, at least until the battery dies.

  Well, I have decided not to smoke it… because if I do, I will not only be a crying sad mess, I will be a crying sad paranoid mess. I’ll be freaking out, man! (I said that with a whisper in my stoner voice.) Forgive me if my humor is out of place, it’s the only thing keeping me sane. So, I’ll continue as long as I can and pick up where I left off.

  Chapter Eleven

  Things kind of moved pretty fast after that. We were on our way up to Punta Gorda. The only problem was we were low on gas. Real low, when all the bad things started happening everybody was lined up at the stations. The lines ran a mile down the road. Eventually, all the stations ran out of gas and never received another shipment. We didn’t get the chance to get any.

  When they brought in the troops and tried to organize it all, no one was allowed to drive their vehicles, so there weren’t many cars on the road we could syphon from, besides, we didn’t have a hose. We did make it to about two miles outside of Punta Gorda, and we got out and started walking. The stretch of 41 we were on was mostly devoid of Infected and the few we did see; we were able to run past. It was tiring because our packs were full, but we made it into Punta Gorda without a problem.

  A mile into town, we saw a mob of Infected ahead that were surrounding what looked to be a disabled school bus. I didn’t want to see, for fear it may be children trapped and there’s no way we could save them, and it would haunt me for the rest of my days if it were. We’d never be able to get them away from there, and where would they go then. We decided they were safer on the bus than they would be with us. We had no choice but to go that way. If we were quiet we could make it, for all their attention was on the bus.

  As we got closer we could see that it wasn’t a school bus, but a county bus carrying inmates. I don’t know where they thought they were gonna take them to in the midst of all this. They were still alive. I could see the panic on their faces and they knew they were never going to get out unscathed. We wanted to help them. There were just too many there for us to do anything other than put ourselves in danger. So with great remorse and heavy hearts, we took advantage of them being distracted and moved on.

  Eventually, we ran into a man that escaped that bus. He said that the guards at the county jail drove them out there, parked and took the battery out, then got into a waiting police cruiser and they left them there. He said he kicked the emergency door in the back and it just came open real easy, like it wasn’t even shut and he ran. They saw him but drove on, probably assuming the Infected will get him before too long anyway. When I asked why the other prisoners didn’t run, he said there were too many zombies coming already, that they must’ve been afraid to get out. I think he was bitten during that escape, he didn’t look well. He was heading home he said, to find his wife. We wished him good luck and he went on his way.

  So, it will be a couple hours until Evan is full out zombie and I can do this. In the meantime I’ll try to keep from wigging out. It’s hard not too, though. He has opened his eyes and they are no longer the bright green they were in life. They are now the palest blue and blood shot, and he is pleading with me. He said that if I came closer, he would only take a little. He said it will make him feel better. Isn’t that what I wanted, for him to feel better? He said he is sorry that he wants to taste my flesh. That he wonders if it will taste as good as my vagina does. But he used the other word. Yes, I cuss like a sailor, but I hate that word. It’s just so vulgar. He is struggling in his restraints, but I tightened them up so he won’t be able to do anything but slither towards me, and I can just scoot around myself to avoid being within his mouth’s reach.

  Part of me wants to go to him, hold him, and let him tear into my neck in morbid embrace. And here I sit, rocking back and forth. I do it because it’s comforting to me. I’m trying to block out his words. I’ll tell you of the time we were out just cruising around town and we started discussing SpongeBob for some odd reason. He asked me if I knew where SpongeBob came from. I said (because this is what I thought, “Yea, he’s a used up sponge the kitchen staff of a ship threw overboard.” Evan laughed so hard at me and told me where sponges really come from. I laughed until tears rolled
from my eyes. How could I be so dingy? No, I’m NOT a blonde. I’m just not that educated on sea life.

  I need to end this soon, I am beginning to be nauseous and I have a slight headache and I don’t know exactly how this works. Evan didn’t tell me what he was feeling during the changing; I’m guessing it was like this. I really kind of feel like lying down but I want to finish this. So, I will leave the small stuff out, and try to sum up the rest for you, quickly.

  My birthday was just five days ago. I didn’t realize it. Evan reminded me. We were hungry and looking for new shelter when we saw a restaurant tucked in the corner of a small shopping plaza. So, we went there. After a thorough zombie check we barred the door with tables and searched for food and found some beef in a deep freezer that hadn’t completely thawed yet. It wasn’t any good to us though for two reasons. Number One; how are we going to cook it? By this time the power was down everywhere. So the microwave there wasn’t any help. Number two, we had seen too much in the past month and neither one of us had the stomach for it. Any species of flesh just didn’t seem appealing to us, at all. We looked around a little more and found several varieties of can goods, some packets of Capri Sun (for kids’ meals I guess) and a few cases of bottled water.

  We sat Indian style behind the counter and I ate peaches while Evan ate chicken noodle soup. We talked about old times and friends. Things we’ve done together. Things we would like to do. We didn’t talk about what was going on. For those few moments, we really didn’t worry about anything.

  When we finished eating and spread table cloths on the floor and used our backpacks as pillows. He told me he had something for me and pulled a little lump of newspaper from his pocket. I opened it and it was a tiny glass teddy bear holding a red heart that says ‘I Love you’. He told me “Happy Birthday”. I kissed him and thanked him for it. He told me he got it on one of our scavenger hunts a few days before. I carry it in my pocket now, and I have looked at it a hundred times.

  Evan and I weren’t ones to beat around the bush when it came to sex. We’ve always had wild, hot, raw and steamy sex. On the floor, bed, dresser, couch, chair, all over the place sex, always great. But that night, we made love. I kind of hate to say it in that way, because it sounds cheesy and all, but that is what we did, and very intimately. It was slow, and passionate and beautiful. We took our time, while whispering loving words, then fell asleep holding one another.

  Under the circumstances, it had been a great birthday. The next morning (or should I say a couple hours later), Evan said we should stick around here for a couple days not only because of the food, but also because we had found a big bag of clean service towels. We were able to use those and some of the water to clean ourselves up. It felt nice to be even a little bit clean.

  We stayed there for three days. We tried to live as close to normal as possible, given the situation. We had both gotten some much needed rest. I slept as he kept watch and vice versa. There were pretty many gathered out front by then. They couldn’t see us because we stayed behind the counter and low to the ground, but I know they could smell us.

  Twice, I peeked out at the windows and saw several gathered there, both hands and their faces pressed flat against the windows. They were certainly sniffing us out. The fear I felt in my heart that moment is nothing compared to the fear I feel now, as I watch my husband die before my eyes and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. So, the time came to leave there, too. You can’t stay in one place too long.

  Chapter Twelve

  It has been 37 hours now, since he has been bitten, and such a very small bite.

  We were sneaking through the streets to find other shelter because the restraunt wasn’t safe anymore. Evan was probably five feet in front of me. I should’ve been watching closer, but I was distracted. We heard a woman screaming and I tried so hard not to see it. We couldn’t help them, we had run past a group of Infected, and though they couldn’t run after us, they were headed in our direction. Navigating my path had left me no choice but to look that way and I saw a little girl and she was a Halfer.

  She was tearing into the belly of a severely wounded pregnant woman who was screaming relentlessly up until then, dying of either her injuries, or fright. I’m going to go with the latter. I was frozen in place by the shock of the scene unfolding before me. As sickened as I was by the sight, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the child. There are no words to describe all that I saw and what I was feeling. I wondered if the child was her daughter, or her niece. Or maybe she was just a random little girl that had been chosen to end her life. Then... she looked right at me.

  A bolt of fear shot through me as I thought she was going to come after me, but she didn’t. She sat there on her knees looking at me over the mass of flesh she was eating. I think, it may have been some part of the unborn child. I know I saw it, and somewhere, deep down inside, I know what it was. My memory will not allow me to recall. Thank You, Lord. And she was looking at me with insolence, like a spoiled brat who had just gotten her way by getting the candy bar she demanded to have, and was daring me to take it from her.

  I heard Evan half-whisper, half-shout at me to “COME ON!”, and as I turned to catch up to him, an Infected female lumbered out from behind the van that Evan was standing next to, and latched onto his right shoulder.

  I went to the left side of Evan and stood in front of him. My goal was to shoot her and make the gore spit out behind them. I had to try to keep the blood from getting on him. He was wearing a hooded raincoat but I didn’t want it on him at all. I raised my gun and fired even though I was scared to death that I would miss and hit Evan because of bad aim. Well, by that time I got pretty good with a gun so my shot was true and my bullet entered the left side of her head and exploded out the other in a fine spray. We didn’t think he’d gotten bit, he said that he didn’t feel anything. But when we finally found a place to stop for a moment, we took off his rain coat, jacket and shirt; we found that it was the smallest thing. One of her teeth had made the connection, but I shot her before she could really get a good size bite. It was a very small puncture. The bitch managed to break the skin. That’s all it took.

  Chapter Thirteen

  For the rest of the day we searched for a place to rest but since the number of Infected increased by at least three times, it was hard to find even a partly empty street. There were always at least three hanging out in the street. You don’t want them to see you go in anywhere. Some of them may not be fast, but they will follow you, and they will wait for you until something else distracts them. There weren’t many living people left to run, so the chance of them being distracted was almost none.

  We didn’t know our way around this area so it seemed like we were running in circles, all the houses were the same, until we got to this street, Spirit Lane. To a big house that had no business here, among all these other little houses. I was happy for it, it looked comfortable. Of course I weighed the options, it was a much bigger house, so the number of Infected that could be in there could be few or many. But also more places to hide. I just felt that it had to be this house. We couldn’t run anymore anyway. Evan was getting weaker.

  When we arrived here, the house was in good condition, it must be someone from up North’s winter home. We checked the first floor and there were no infected. I told Evan to sit at the table and rest until I was through checking the second floor. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. There was still running water. No zombies. I didn’t worry much about the curtains on the first floor, they were sort of heavy in the living room, and the only window in the kitchen had a thick shade. They could not see us from the street. I went to the bathroom and got a thick towel to put over the window on the back door. We were safe for a while.

  I checked the cabinets and found two cans of corn and a box of stale crackers. Evan by this time, was not only weak and freezing to the bone, he didn’t feel like eating, so I didn’t eat either.

  I found a large mixing bowl in the kitchen and went u
pstairs. I put my pack in front of the first bedroom door and Evan went into the room. I filled the bowl with water from the sink and found a wash rag, a new bar of soap and a towel. I took it in the bedroom and washed Evan’s face and under arms, I turned my back, so he could wash the rest of himself. When he was done I washed the bite for him. He said it was sore, and it was definitely an angry red. I changed the water and got different rag and bar of soap and repeated the process for myself. Evan lay down on the bed, and I covered him up and sat leaning back against the head board so I could watch him. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. I didn’t plan on sleeping but dozed off anyway.

  We woke up because we heard noise down on the first floor, and light footsteps running into the next room and shutting the door. Someone else was here, but I was not going to check it out. I remembered that I shrugged off my backpack in the hall just outside the door and it had things in it that we would need. I tried to quietly open the door to snatch the bag, but the staircase was only a few feet from the door and one of the Infected climbing the stairs, saw me. I grabbed the pack and shut the door quickly and frantically scanned the room for a place to hide. The dresser was too heavy for us to move and the only other furniture was the bed and an end table. I felt helpless for just a second. I did not want to be eaten alive.

  Evan looked up and saw the cord to the hatch, so he pulled it and a ladder came down. He refused to go first, so I scrambled up there and extended my hand to him and he grabbed the blanket off the bed. He threw it up to me and I tossed it aside and extended my hand to help him up the rest of the way. He had gotten weaker during his sleep, but he was not yet disabled. As soon as we started grasping the rungs to get the ladder back up, the zombie opened the door. We pulled it up far enough for me to get the cord and yank it up the rest of the way. I fastened it to a nail as I explained earlier. We barely made it.

 

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