“We can re-dress it back home,” she said, drawing his attention back to her face. “I’m feeling a little faint, so you might have to do it for me.”
“I’ve never fixed anything that big before. What do I need to do?”
“Start driving and I’ll talk you through it.”
Her voice was raspy and weak. He had to strain to listen to her words. He kept thinking about his father. Had he been like this before he had slipped into the coma? Every coughing fit seemed to deplete her energy, and she was getting paler by the second.
Another thought occurred to him. If she was sick too, did that mean he was next? Was it safe for them to be alone on the farm?
And what if they turned into ‘flesh eaters’ like his father? He had seen enough zombie movies to know one when he saw one. He just never imagined he would actually witness a ‘real’ one. They were meant to be a work of fiction! Not something you watch your father become.
He looked at Mary. She was fading fast.
What if she turned?
What would he do then?
CHAD
“We need to get out of here!” Zuckerman yelled at Chad over the chaos on the bus. He grabbed his shirt and yanked him down the aisle.
“We can’t just leave them!”
“We can’t do anything for them, man, we have to save ourselves!”
Chad hesitated briefly before joining Zuckerman as they ran from the bus. The screams of their team mates following them. Chad fought his instincts to turn back and try to help, but he knew that Zuckerman was right. Their only hope, was to get far away.
“Down here!” He led them through a field of corn towards a farmhouse. “They won’t see us in here.”
Stopping to catch his breath, Chad bent over, hands on knees.
“What happened in there?!” Zuckerman demanded.
“What? How the hell should I know what that was?” Chad asked incredulously.
“You were with him on the bus, did he say anything to you?”
“Yeah, he told me he was planning to chow down on all of us!” his voice full of sarcasm. “Of course he didn’t fucking say anything!” he yelled. “I have no idea what the hell that was! I’ve never seen anything like that in my life! That shit’s for the movies!”
“You’re telling me!”
Calming down a little, Chad stood, looking back towards the bus.
“Did you see who else got away?”
“I don’t know, man. I was focusing on getting us out of there.”
“I can’t believe he just… I mean… Fuck! How is this even possible?”
“I don’t know. Maybe his steroids sent him crazy.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. He was definitely hopped up, but could they really make you… eat your friends?”
Zuckerman started walking towards the farmhouse.
“Let’s think this through. What do we know? Was he sick before he got on the bus?”
“Nah, I saw him coming outta the supermarket. He was pissed, but he was fine.”
“So he just suddenly came down with some… disease?”
“Yeah, I guess. He got all sweaty and his eyes were bloodshot, they almost looked like they were changing colour.”
“His skin was kinda grey too.”
“Yeah, and then he had that coughing fit and said he couldn’t breathe. And then he passed out.”
Zuckerman began pacing. “I’m just gonna say it, man.” He pulled his cap off, raking his hand through his hair. “You know it, and I know it. There’s no other explanation. He’s a freakin’ zombie! He died and came back to life and started biting people!”
“Yeah, but how? I mean, why haven’t we heard about this?” Chad agreed.
“Maybe he’s the first?”
“Just out of the blue, turns into a zombie? I’m not buyin’ it. It had to have come from somewhere.”
They started walking again. The farmhouse was only a few hundred metres away. Zuckerman pulled Chad down behind a nearby tractor.
“We should be careful. We don’t know how far spread this is. For all we know, this place could be over-run too.”
“Or they could help us.”
“Okay, assuming that they aren’t zombies themselves, you honestly think complete strangers are going to believe that our team mate turned into one and started attacking people?”
“We don’t have much choice.”
Zuckerman pointed to the barn.
“We should find some weapons and go back. We might be able to save some of them.”
Chad frowned, contemplating it. He nodded, crouching low. They ducked back into the cornfields, keeping low to the ground. They edged their way closer, watching out for the occupants of the farm.
“Okay, it looks all clear. Ready?” Chad asked. Zuckerman nodded. “One, two, three!” They ran the one hundred metres to the barn doors, silently praying for them to be unlocked. They were in luck. Squeezing through, they pulled the door closed behind them, scoping the place out.
“Over there,” Chad whispered, pointing at a row of garden tools. Chad grabbed a garden fork and shovel. He then looked on the workbench to find some smaller weapons they could use too. He found a rusty pair of secateurs, a trowel and a hammer. Zuckerman had found his own selection of tools and was securing a tool belt around his waist.
“I can carry more this way.”
“Good idea.”
They loaded the tool belt up with as many ‘weapons’ as they could. Chad shoved the hammer in his back pocket and swung the garden fork over his shoulder, handing Zuckerman the shovel. With one final sweep of the place, they stealthily made their way back out of the barn, and towards the road.
Staying hidden in the cornfields, they silently crept along the roadside, until they were parallel with the bus. The screams had died down now. A low moaning could be heard, but it sounded as though it was heading away from them.
“The element of surprise is our best shot here,” Chad whispered. “No matter what, we stick together, okay?”
“Okay.”
Slipping out of the safety of the fields, they inched closer to the bus. One of their team mates lay on the road beside the door, one side of his face ripped clean off, chunks torn from his arms and torso. Chad fought off the bile that was rising in his throat. He attempted to find a pulse on his fallen friend, but there was nothing. They were too late.
Turning their attention to the bus, they eased up the steps. Zuckerman poked his head around the corner to see what they were dealing with. Ross was nowhere to be seen.
“I think it’s safe,” he whispered, stepping into the aisle.
“Aaaaaarrrrgggghhhhhh!” Billy came hurtling towards them, his bag held over his head, ready to swing.
“Whoa! Billy! It’s me! It’s Z!” Zuckerman leaned back, holding his arms up to deflect the impact.
Billy stopped, his bag still raised. “Zuckerman? Did you get bit?” he questioned, grabbing his arms and inspecting them.
“No, we got out before he got the chance. Did you?”
“No, I hid in the back.” His face crumpled as he recalled the details. “I panicked. I just hid and let him… eat our friends.” He punched the chair next to him. “He ate them! He actually chewed and swallowed, like… like they were a piece of fucking steak!”
“Did anyone else… turn?”
“Turn?”
“Yeah, you know, like Ross.”
“Only Joe, but you must’ve seen that. It happened straight away. Between the two of them, they got their teeth into nearly everyone.”
“Well if zombie movies are anything to go by, we probably don’t have long before these guys turn into flesh-eaters too,” Zuckerman said, motioning behind him at the other players. “Anyone else not been bitten?” he asked the rest of the bus. He was answered with a low moan.
“We should check those guys first.” Chad moved down the aisle to the source of the voice. He stopped midway down, crouching. “Coach? You okay?” Another groan. “
Guys, Coach’s still alive!”
MILLIE
Dancing through the reeds, humming to herself, Millie went about picking daisies for her strawberry blonde hair. Once she had gathered enough, she sat down, with her feet dangling in the creek and proceeded to braid them together. She looked up at the sky, watching the dark clouds roll in, wondering where Zeke had got to.
Leaning back on her arms, she let the last of the sun warm her face, as she wiggled her toes in the cool water. She would wait a little longer before seeking him out. It wasn’t like him to miss their meeting, so she knew it must be something important.
A rustle in the fields came from behind, signalling his arrival. Smiling, she began to sing, as she always did when he joined her.
“Take my hand in yours,
I’ll follow you to the moon,
Anywhere you want to go.
Honey, I’m yours
Now and forever more.
You are my dream,
My everything,
I need you more than words can say
I love you more than yesterday.”
She looked back over her shoulder, where she thought she had heard him. But no-one was there. She shrugged and continued to sing.
“Take my heart with yours,
Keep it safe and warm,
Hold it forever in your arms,
Honey, I’m yours.
You are my dream,
My everything.
I want you more than words can say,
I love you more with every day.”
She heard another rustle, this time to her left. Climbing to her feet, she called out.
“Very funny, Zeke! You missed your part. Come and sing with me!” She slipped her shoes back on, and started walking along the creek’s edge, in the direction of the noises. “Zeke?” she called again. Still no reply. “Alright, you don’t have to sing with me. Just come out!”
Silence. If this was meant to be a game, it wasn’t very funny. A shiver ran down her spine as the thought dawned on her, that perhaps it wasn’t Zeke she had heard.
“Hello? Is somebody in there?” She stepped away from the water, towards the field from which she came.
A low groan came from within, stopping her in her tracks. Something was definitely hiding there, watching her. Not willing to wait and see what it was, she spun around and leapt over the creek, running towards Zeke’s place.
She could hear feet thundering behind her. She willed her own feet to move even faster, determined not to let whoever it was, catch up to her. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing laboured. She was not used to sudden exertions like this.
Gulping back air, she forced herself to keep going. Don’t look back!
The farmhouse was in sight. Only a little further, you can do this!
Her pursuer was catching up. She could hear his short, raspy breaths with every step.
A car was pulling in by the house. Please be Zeke!
“Zeke!” she screamed, as she pushed her body past its limits. “Zeke!” She waved her arms in the air, desperate to get his attention. “Zeke!”
“Millie?” he called out before he noticed the person chasing after her. He ran to the door, fumbling with the lock. He swung the door open and grabbed the shotgun they kept there for emergencies. He ran down the steps.
“Zeke!” Millie screamed again, tripping over her own feet. She tumbled to the ground in a heap. Zeke was running, gun aimed.
“Millie, stay down!” he yelled.
The gun fired, just as the assailant was almost upon her. He had been hit in the shoulder, but he continued to run towards her. He leapt in the air, diving.
“Zeke!” Millie was on her hands and knees, trying to get away, but he had hold of her foot, and was dragging her back towards him. She was kicking her feet at his face and shoulder, making a connection with whatever she could, and still he kept coming. As Zeke got closer, he realised what he was seeing. That same dull grey flesh and those unmistakable red sunken eyes. It was another flesh-eater.
He pulled his gun up once more, aiming between the eyes. He pulled the trigger. This time, he didn’t miss.
Blood and brain matter splattered all over Millie as she screamed. The body had dropped to the ground in front of her, the stump of his head on her feet. She kicked it away, scrambling backwards, trying to get some space between them.
Zeke ran up to her, scanning her arms and legs for bite marks.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently. She looked up at him, with her big green eyes, tears spilling over. She shook her head. Her body shuddered as she began to sob. He pulled her in tightly, rubbing his hand on her back.
“Shh, it’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now.”
It was then that he remembered his mother, passed out in the car.
CHAD
“We’re gonna have to amputate,” Zuckerman said matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“His leg. If he’s coming with us, we’re gonna have to cut it where he got bit. He’ll turn otherwise.”
“He’s right. Haven’t you ever seen any zombie movie ever?”
“You are not cutting my leg off!” Coach cried out in agony. He turned to Chad, his eyes pleading. “Don’t let them do this.”
“Your call Coach, but if it doesn’t come off then you can’t come with us.”
“That’s a bit harsh, Z,” Chad said.
“No, it’s gotta be done. He’ll only slow us down,” Billy said quietly.
“Sorry, Coach.” Chad looked down, he couldn’t meet his eyes. “Majority rules.”
“You can’t just leave me here. What if they come back?”
“That’s something you’re gonna have to worry about,” Zuckerman said, gathering up his tool belt and anything else he could find that may be of use. “We should check the other bags, grab their food. You never know what we’ll be facing when we get back to town.”
“You can’t possibly think that there will be more like him,” Coach scoffed.
“Oh really? You think Ross just up and decided he was gonna go all cannibal on your arse?”
“Zuckerman,” Chad cautioned.
“Come on, Chad. You don’t believe this bullshit do you?” Coach pleaded.
“I don’t know what to believe, Coach.” He paused, looking away. “I think Zuckerman might have a point though. You saw Joe, he turned as soon as he was bit.” Coach shook his head.
“I can’t believe this,” he said under his breath. He attempted to get up, but there was no way he could put any weight on his leg. He rested his head in his hands. “Okay,” he sighed.
“Okay?”
“Okay, you can cut it off,” he said dejectedly.
“Right. We’re gonna need some alcohol to clean it. A belt or something to cut off the blood flow. And the sharpest knife we can find.”
“I’ve got vodka in my bag,” Billy called out as he ran to the back of the bus.
“Wait, we should move him to the bench seat, we can’t do it here,” Chad said.
“True that.”
“Gimme a lift.” Chad grabbed Coach under his arms. “One, two, three!”
Coach cried out in pain. “Jesus! Be more careful!”
“Okay, now set him down, nice and easy.” They slowly lowered him to the vinyl seat in the back of the bus. Billy handed over the bottle of vodka he had stashed in his bag.
“We need something he can bite on. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”
“What about the hammer?”
“That’ll have to do.” Chad pulled it out of his back pocket. “We can use my belt too.” He handed the hammer to Coach, and proceeded to wrap his belt just above Coach’s left knee. He pulled it as tight as he could before buckling it up.
“You ready?” he asked.
“What do you think? Of course I’m not bloody ready!” he spat. “Just get it over with.” Coach put the hammer in his mouth and bit down.
Zuckerman poured vodka over the fire axe they had fo
und. He drizzled some over Coach’s leg too and gave him a little bit in his mouth to help ease the pain. Chad had hold of his shoulders, while Billy braced his other leg.
Cracking his neck, Zuckerman swung the axe over his shoulder and down into the flesh above Coach’s knee. Chad had to fight to keep him steady as his back arched and his body convulsed.
“Hold him still!”
Chad threw his body over Coach’s middle. Zuckerman drew back the blade, and took another swing. The axe lodged deep into the thigh, hitting the bone. Coach’s eyes rolled back, and he passed out.
“Get it done while he’s out!” Chad yelled.
“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Zuckerman wrenched the blade back and forth until it came away from the bone. He took another swing, this time cracking the bone. “Almost there!” He wiped the sweat from his brow, before continuing. One final blow sent the lower half of his leg falling to the floor.
“Pour some of that vodka over it,” Zuckerman panted, wiping a mixture of blood and sweat across his forehead.
“Billy, find me a bandage or something to wrap around his leg. Is there a first aid kit in here?”
“Should be up the front, where the driver sits. I’ll go check.” Billy stumbled down the aisle, Chad watching him as he did.
“Is he alright?” he whispered to Zuckerman.
“Billy? Yeah, I think so. As right as you can be after watching a man’s leg get cut off with an axe.”
“Good point.” He pointed at the wound. “Why’s it still bleeding so much?” Chad asked.
“How the hell should I know?”
“Do you think we need to burn it? Like, to seal it?”
“That’s probably not a bad idea. I don’t know if I can do that though.”
“Says the guy who just used an axe on another man,” Chad said. “It’s okay, I’ll do it.” He fished a lighter out of his pocket. “This could take a while. You’ll need to help pin him down if he comes to.”
“Roger.” They switched places, as Billy joined them with the first aid kit in hand. He plonked down on one of the seats, rummaging through it to find the bandages.
Flesh-Eater (Book 1): Fear the Fever Page 4