And the Blood Ran Black

by Nathan E. Harvey

  Though their stomachs were empty, they all rested comfortably on their own private island that night. John dug out shallow dips in the rock and dirt to conform more comfortably to their bodies, and Moto carried across huge piles of leaves in his jacket to soften their nests. Though they couldn’t dig deeply enough to completely block the cold winds of fall, the setup was much better than they’d expected to find, given the circumstances. John worried that zombies might still accumulate on the shores around them rather than wandering far enough into the water to be carried away by its current, but decided there was nothing more he could do.

  Moto lay as still as he could, shivering in the cold, and struggling to sleep. He did his best to not rearrange himself because the dried leaves crunched loudly with each tiny movement he made. After a long while, he considered waking John to see if he might switch spots so that Moto could be protected from the northern wind for a bit, but couldn’t bring himself to ruin anyone else’s sleep. Unsure if he’d slept or not, Moto jolted awake, feeling a few large raindrops strike him in the face.

  “John,” Moto shook him awake. “It’s raining.”

  “Mmh,” John groaned. “There’s nothing we can do about it. Just put your jacket over you.”

  Long after the others had fallen back into a deep sleep, Moto continued his unending fight to get comfortable. With the sounds being drowned out by the heavy rains, Moto continuously repositioned himself in the damp hole, fighting to hide from the frigid air. A solution finally presented itself when Moto felt the warmth he’d been praying for descend into the hole with him in the form of Timber when the dog came to lay with him. Moto finally slept.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  Later in the night, Moto again found that he was the only one awake. Even Timber seemed to be resting comfortably at his side. Moto shivered after being soaked by the even heavier sheets rains that had rolled in. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but there was still no sign of sunrise. Frustrated, Moto laid his head back down and realized that it wasn’t just the rain that had awoken him. The water level had risen to the point that it was now creeping up onto the island, and the hole for his head had begun to fill.

  When it became clear that the water would only continue to rise, Moto woke the others and alerted them of their predicament. They stayed for as long as they could on the ever-shrinking island, forfeiting any hopes of rest, until their stake of land had been fully reclaimed by mother nature.

  “Dammit, can we get a break?” Moto griped after stepping down into a large puddle.

  “Alright, everyone hold hands,” John instructed, reaching out in the dark. “There’s no way we can stay here until daybreak. We’d better get out while we can still do it safely.”

  Stumbling in the darkness, John regained his sense of direction by the water’s flow and led the group safely to shore. Fear overtook them all, as the relentless onslaught of deafening raindrops pounded the earth around them. Everyone held hands, with Moto and John on either end of the line swinging large sticks in front of them in order to discover any unseen dangers, whether inanimate or undead. Occasionally, they would freeze upon hearing Timber growl, and sometimes even hearing the footsteps of a nearby wandering zombie. Fortunately, the zombies were as handicapped as the survivors by the thunderous percussion of raindrops and the non-existent visibility.

  The storm worsened, and only the occasional strike of lightning assisted the men in finding their way. Just as they began to wonder for how much longer their luck would hold out, the sun began to creep up across the eastern horizon. Though blocked by clouds, the light that did penetrate was more than enough to help them negotiate the terrain safely.

  It quickly became apparent, though, that the zombies were also being aided by the additional light. The radius of distance the group had to maintain between themselves and the undead grew as the light intensified. When avoidance became impossible, Moto and John fought to stab at the nearest of the approaching threats with their sticks, incapacitating many with ease. As the rains slowed, though, more and more zombies began to appear from all sides, alerted by their brethren’s cries.

  “We can’t keep this up much longer,” Moto said through his shivering jaw. “Time for my tree idea?”

  “We just might have to,” John said, taking in the terrain around them and the looming horde.

  “Timber, no!” Hillary scolded the dog as it threw chunks of mud up at her.

  The others looked down to find him digging ferociously until his front half had almost completely disappeared down into the earth.

  “Wait a second, look,” Brooke paused. “The water is flowing somewhere. Is that a cave?”

  Moto quickly squatted down and looked into the narrow hole which now housed almost all of Timber.

  “Holy shit, it’s huge in here!” he said ecstatically and began prying at the large rocks on either side of the hole. “John, give me a hand!”

  Soon, they had widened the hole to the point that their shoulders could pass through it easily. One by one, each person laid flat on their belly and slid themselves down feet first into the cavern with some assistance from Moto below. The hole continued to widen as the flowing stream of rainwater poured down into their shelter, eroding away their defensible hole. After disposing of several zombies while all of the others made their way inside the cave, John finally ran over and slid down into the hole as if careening head first down a slip and slide. He soon realized that he’d underestimated the depth of the cavern and rotated a perfect half somersault in the air before landing hard on his back on the cave’s floor.

  The cavern felt spacious, considering the tiny hole that had led them there. Moto estimated it to measure over fifteen feet in diameter, and at its highest point, the roof was well over ten feet high. Moto was happy to see that the water inside the cave was draining slowly out the other side through a smaller hole, quieting his fear that they might’ve been in danger due to rising water levels. Less encouraging, though, was the fact that the small hole was completely comprised of rock, and there didn’t appear to be an alternate exit point through which they could escape.

  Suddenly, Timber alerted them to the presence of danger yet again. Moto looked up to see that a zombie had pursued them to the hole just as it lost traction and completed its long fall flat onto its head. Even though the fall had seemingly incapacitated the zombie, Moto didn’t hesitate to stab it through the brain.

  “Quick, help me find something to plug up the hole,” he pleaded, searching around with his hands beneath the shallow water’s surface.

  When another zombie appeared by the hole, John stabbed it through the eye socket with his long, sharpened branch, rendering the thing lifeless before it had even extended half way through the opening. When another tried to pry its way into the narrow opening next to its motionless partner, John struck that one dead as well. Before long, the water at their feet was darkened with the blood of their dead enemies, but the solution for plugging the hole had presented itself. A mound of corpses sealed the only passable opening almost completely.

  “I guess that works,” Moto sighed, sitting on a high, dry spot along the edge of the cave and watching as one zombie pushed its hand through a small space above them. “It’s like something out of a nightmare,” he continued, watching as the thing grabbed futilely at the unseen survivors.

  “My God it smells,” Brooke said after a while, holding her index finger up to block her nostrils. “How long do we have to stay in here?”

  John quietly pulled down one of the motionless corpses from the hole above them, allowing two others to take its place.

  “Well, we might have to stay for a bit,” John sighed, stabbing at the new zombies and effectively re-plugging the hole. “They don’t seem to be interested in moving on.”

  Slow, uneventful hours passed, and John and Moto’s stomachs began to cramp with hunger. Suddenly, and completely without warning, the group all looked up at the sound of jets soaring overhead, followed shortly by
the rumble of what they assumed to be an airstrike. Listening attentively now, they heard numerous other soft, more distant explosions.

  “Are we gonna die?” Hillary asked.

  “No, sweetie, they’re just cleaning up the cities,” Brooke answered without missing a beat. “We’re not close enough to a city that we should be scared.”

  “This is good right?” Moto whispered to John. “Still a government, still a military?”

  “I guess you could say that… as long as they’re not stupid enough to use nukes, and we’re able to avoid the napalm,” John answered. “I’m not gonna hold my breath for them to come pick us up and take us to some happy little village that’s unaffected, but, if they’re cutting into the number of zombies, I guess I’ll take it.”

  “You think the noise from the explosions drew the zombies away from here?” Brooke asked.

  Not hearing anything above them but for the explosions in the distance, John cautiously pulled two more bodies down into their growing pile. His guarded optimism was quickly disproven when a new chorus of moans from the undead echoed down.

  “This is bad. Like really bad,” Moto grumbled as John re-plugged the hole. “There were dozens of ‘em up there; they’re just waiting for us.”

  “I never would’ve dreamed they’d still be hanging around after that long,” Brooke said. “With all the rain, I really doubt they’re still able to pick up our scent out there. If we can’t hear them, then there’s no way they hear us.”

  “I really thought they’d be attracted to the fires,” John groaned as he pushed the corpses over to the side of the cave. “I guess we can give up hope that they’ll be leaving on their own.”

  Moto re-took his squatting position on his rock and tucked his knees up against his chest. The entire time they’d been trapped in the cave, John had quietly observed as Moto hugged himself and sat quietly. John would’ve feared that Moto’s bite was beginning to turn him, except for the fact that Brooke had endured a much more severe dog bite and appeared to be completely healthy. John leaned against the nearest wall and quietly observed Moto’s pathetic condition as he considered the possibilities. Even if the graying skin and lethargic demeanor weren’t only due to the lacking heat and food, there was little that John could do to help Moto or ensure the safety of the others. His only option was to continue to monitor Moto carefully. As John watched, a large dirt clod was jarred loose from a nearby missile strike and broke across the back of Moto’s head.

  “You’d better find another spot,” John whispered. “The next one might not be a dirt clod.”

  John looked up to see if there was a rock above himself that might have loosened from the explosions. He considered that perhaps the cavern wasn’t composed entirely of stone. He’d already circled around the cave dragging a hand across every section of wall within reach, finding only rock, but he hadn’t considered other sections of the ceiling. At the spot where the dirt clod had fallen, John noticed a small discolored area with exposed roots. Unsure what he was hoping for, John thrust his long tree branch up into the rooted area and found almost no resistance.

  “You seeing this?” John asked, kicking at Moto’s foot.

  “Yeah, so?” Moto shrugged. “You’re just gonna open another hole for the zombies to come through.”

  “I’m not so sure there are zombies on this side,” John explained. “Wouldn’t this part over here be off on the other side of the hill from the creek? There might be a good chance they wouldn’t be able to see us at all from over here.”

  John stabbed at the spot again, and a chunk of soil fell to the ground, allowing muddy water to flow in. With a slight wiggle of the branch, sunlight dripped in with the water.

  “Let me on your shoulders,” John motioned to Moto. “I wanna peek out.”

  “How about you let me on your shoulders?” Moto stood sluggishly. “I’m not feeling that great.”

  John understood and, above that, didn’t want to draw any more attention to Moto’s worsening condition in front of the girls. Considering that fact, John ducked down and lifted Moto up onto his shoulders while Moto pressed the large branch to the ground to help himself balance.

  “Is there any way to get higher?” Moto asked. “What I can see is clear, but I can only see so much from here.”

  John struggled to grasp the bottoms of Moto’s shoes and lift as best he could while Moto pressed down on the limb as if a pole-vaulter, relieving some of the weight. A loud snap echoed as the branch broke, and the brothers tumbled hard into the contaminated water below.

  “I think we could still get out that way,” Moto said, looking up at the small hole from the flat of his back. “We just need a little bit of a boost. Once one of us is up there, it’ll be easy to pull the girls up.”

  “Maybe,” John thought for a moment. “How are we gonna get that extra little boost?”

  “What if you both lift me up together?” Brooke offered. “I bet we could reach. And, for the last person, we could tie our belts and jackets into a rope to hoist them up.”

  “Absolutely not. We don’t even know if the coast is clear up there yet,” John said.

  “I thought it was a great idea,” Moto said, shrugging.

  “Yeah, at least let me poke my head out and see,” Brook argued.

  “Alright, let’s give it a shot, I guess,” John said reluctantly, “but stay as quiet as possible.”

  Moto and John set up a standing pyramid base with their knees bent, allowing Brooke to climb up by stepping on their thighs and then shoulders, grasping tightly to their hair with each hand for balance. Once stable, John and Moto attempted to straighten up and lift Brooke through the hole. Moto struggled to control his balance as his feet slipped badly on the sloping rocks where he stood.

  “I can’t reach. Bring me down,” Brooke whispered and squatted down as their pyramid began to shake noticeably.

  John reached up, secured Brooke by her hips, and helped her to the ground safely.

  “Sorry, I thought I was tall enough,” Brooke said.

  “Okay, I have one last idea,” Moto said. He spoke as if he was about to disclose the last thing anyone wanted to hear. “You know that riddle about digging yourself out of a hole?”

  “Yeah, where you dig out stairs or whatever? I already thought that, but we don’t have any dirt to work with, really,” John thought out loud.

  “Yeah, well, you’ll have to bear with me on that part,” Moto said, glancing over at the pile of corpses.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  For what it lacked in glamour, Moto’s idea made up in simplicity. One by one, John continued to pull down a motionless corpse at a time onto their growing pile of bodies, allowing another ambulatory one to take its place before repeating the process. It didn’t take long of continuing the pattern until a significant pile of bodies had been assembled beneath the second hole of the cave.

  Brooke’s idea with a cell phone alarm acting as a distraction was given a chance by poking Sprite’s ringing phone up through the plugged hole as his was the only phone with some battery charge remaining.

  “That might do ‘er right there,” Moto said, eyeballing the distance between the top of their pile and their escape.

  John was glad to sense a little bit of normalcy to Moto’s voice. Though, he was also a little frustrated that Moto was perking up now that the work was finished. John was completely covered in gore from stacking bodies to the top of the pile and took great effort to spit out a full sentence. It’s wasn’t just the exhaustion. It was the repulsive, inescapable odor that now enveloped him.

  After gathering his composure, John insisted on going first and stumbled up the awkward, shifting pile of decomposing bodies. Some of the undead had degenerated to the point that their skin easily peeled away from the bone under John’s weight as he climbed.

  “Good God, this smell,” Brooke muttered.

  John fought back several gag reflexes and was eventually forced to hold his breath entirely in order to re
ach the top of the pile without vomiting. Even his own scent couldn’t compete with the fumes that escaped from intestines and bowels as they ruptured under his weight. From atop the pile, John peered out from the hole with a full view of their surroundings.

  “Coast is clear,” he whispered down before leaping up through the narrow hole. His head reappeared upside-down alongside an extended arm. “Who’s next?”

  “Hillary, are you ready?” Brooke asked while approaching the mound. “I can hold your hand while you climb up to John.”

  Tentatively, Hillary walked up to Brooke and eyed the tall pile of gore. Without speaking, the young girl calculated her path, and began to step softly on the corpses and climb unassisted.

  “I can do it by myself,” Hillary said. “It’s easy if you just step on their jaw.”

  Brooke was equally as encouraged as she was repulsed by the little girl’s ability to adapt and continue to move forward despite everything. She tried to picture what type of person the little girl might become if she were to survive until adulthood in this new world. The person that she began to imagine was not an entirely promising one, and Brooke quickly shook the thought.

  “That’s good sweetheart, you’ve got it!” Brooke said with hands raised at the ready like a parent spotting their child as they ascended the ladder of a slide.

  Hillary’s smaller stature made for less shifting of the lifeless bodies, and she easily navigated her way up the pile until she was within reach of John. Once she’d been hoisted up safely, Brooke began to make her way up with a little help from Moto. It didn’t take long for Brooke to realize the value of Hillary’s advice in utilizing the jawbones as footholds.

  John caught himself hesitating for a split second at the sight of Moto waiting impatiently after already passing up the mortified dog. Despite the occasional glimpse of normalcy, Moto looked awful. John admitted to himself that Moto wasn’t well. He considered the validity of his logical temptation to protect the girls and teased the thought of leaving Moto behind for so long that Moto noticed his hesitation, waiting with arm raised. John shut off his “rational” thinking and forced himself to reach his hand down into the hole and take hold of his brother.