“For the best.”
Sherry admitted to Tom that, because of the incident at the pond, she did give in and decided to allow Kenny to give Eva the serum injection. “She’s getting around so well on her own now that it’s for her own safety. He said he’d give it to her when he did the rest of us; coming up in a couple of week, actually.”
“I’ll bet ol’ Kenny’s glad about that.”
“Oh, no reservations. It’s not like with...,” Sherry cut herself off.
“Not like what?”
“Well, you know Kenny. He was always grumbling about having to give it to you and Jemma. He’d say that it shouldn’t be wasted on people who were... dying. No offense, Tom. His words. Not mine.”
“None taken. Convenient that Jemma’s not around anymore, then.”
“Now, he said it was an accident, and I believe him. He wouldn’t kill that poor girl just to ration the serum. Come now. You know him better than that, Tom.”
“Oh, wouldn’t he?”
“Despite his feelings about it, Kenny always gave her the shot, same as the rest of us. He’d always made sure you got your, right? I mean, he’s never tried to kill you, has he?”
“Well, he can rest easy. I don’t think I’ll be needing mine anymore. I’ve got so much necrotic flesh now that I think I’m producing my own necromones.”
“Is that right? Well, the last time he gave Jemma her dose he didn’t fuss at all. Almost seemed happy to do it.”
Maybe killing an innocent girl wasn’t Kenny’s style, but something Holly said sprang forward. She said that Mark saw the zombie at the mall was moving in like it smelled fresh meat. Tom suspected that Jemma’s death may have been an accident, but Kenny may still have been indirectly responsible.
“Well, it smells like I may have to spray that Medi-aire again, so I’d better go. Glad Eva is doing well.”
“Please take care of yourself out there, Tom. We worry about you.”
“No worries, Sherry. Thanks for all you do. Hey, I saw some rabbits as I was heading over here. Kenny might want to check his rabbit traps when he gets back.”
“I’ll let him know.”
#
Snow had been falling steadily, yet Tom didn’t budge from his spot in the woods. His breathing had become so low that no condensation could be seen emanating from his mouth. He waited patiently. Silently.
“No rabbit in that one,” He spoke once his expected visitor arrived.
Kenny whirled around in surprise, raising his rifle. “Tom! What the hell? You trying to scare the shit outta me?”
“That depends. Do you deserve to have the shit scared out of you, or kicked out of you?”
“Wha?”
“I know what you’ve been doing,” Tom said, stepping forward from the darkness of the trees.
“I know you were diluting Jemma’s dose of the serum. Probably mine too. Maybe it was a straight up placebo, for all I know. That’s why that zombie detected her at the mall, isn’t it?!”
Kenny held onto his rifle, careful not to appear defensive. “What the hell are you talking about?” His question was met with a hard fist to the face that knocked him into a snow bank. Though the rifle fell from his hand, Kenny picked it up to use it as a prop to get him back to his feet.
“Paula always defended you. Despite anything I ever said about you,” Tom told him. “If she could only see you now. What’s next? You gonna dilute Mark and Holly’s too? Skim off enough serum for you, Sherry and the baby and leave the rest unprotected? That’s my daughter you’ve got in your doomsday bunker!” Tom roared.
“Look. It’s not like that,” Kenny explained from his vulnerable position. “I’m taking care of your daughter as if she were my own,” Kenny asserts sternly, through clenched teeth. “I couldn’t piss away good serum on someone else who has no future,” he continued, hanging his head.
“Had. Past tense. She’s dead now. You made sure of that, didn’t you?” Tom took a step closer to Kenny, as his anger rose. “What? She wasn’t dying fast enough for you, so you just killed her?”
“No! No. It’s not like that.”
“You selfish bastard!” Tom came at Kenny, but Kenny reacted quickly, landing a fist across the soft bloody tissue of Tom’s jaw, cutting his knuckles on the exposed teeth. Tom retaliated with a punch to the side of Kenny’s head, between the ear and cheekbone.
Kenny could easily have used his rifle to shoot Tom and call it self-defense, but he didn’t. Instead, he dodged a follow-up punch and ran into the woods.
He also could have easily confessed to Tom that Mark had been the one to blame for Jemma’s death, but he chose to honor the lie he’d created to protect Mark. It didn’t matter anyway. To everyone else, it made sense that Kenny be the bad guy, so he left it that way. Mark didn’t deserve the rap.
After a good distance, Kenny turned to look for Tom in pursuit. He knelt against the base of a tree and tried to quiet his own breathing and shake off the ringing in his ears from Tom’s punch so he could better detect any movement in the woods. The snap of a branch had him train his rifle site in the direction of the sound until Tom came into view, stumbling like Frankenstein’s monster through the woods. You look weak, Tom, Kenny thought. You can’t see me, can you? I could plug you right now. People already think I killed the zombie girl. Why not make it two for two?
A shot cracked the frigid night air, and Tom fell backward, swallowed by the woods. Kenny checked that he may have accidentally fired, but he hadn’t.
“Bullseye,” came a voice from behind Kenny. It was a man, unfamiliar to Kenny, yet standing in the snow as confidently as if he owned every bit of the land under his feet, plus a hundred miles in all directions.
“Looked like you could use a hand. That one was gaining on you. I thought you’d never take the shot,” the stranger said.
Kenny rose to his feet, readied his rifle, and surveyed the man who was still aiming his handgun. “Who the hell are you? And, what are you doing on my property?”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize. I’m just passing through and saw that zombie chasing you, and...”
“Right, w... well, thanks,” Kenny stammered. “I didn’t need help. I was just about to squeeze one off.”
“My bad,” the man said in lieu of an apology, as he stowed his weapon back into its holster. His boots were covered in snow, but Kenny could tell, even in the dim light of night, that they were military grade.
“You say you’re passing through, huh?” Kenny questioned, noting to himself that only an idiot travels at night in the middle of winter.
“Headed west. So, you’re staying put? I mean, you said this was your property and all.”
“Yep. But, sorry. No room at the inn, if you’re lookin’ for a place to hole up.” Something about this interloper told Kenny that he was trouble, more than simply Kenny’s natural distrust of strangers.
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t think of intruding on you and the others. Like I said, I’m just passing through.”
Kenny raised his rifle. “Well, I guess you best get on your way, then.”
In silent compliance, the man turned and trudged off through the snow. Kenny watched until he was out of sight, his suspicions about the stranger continuing as he noted that he retreated back through his footprints in the snow rather than continuing forward in the direction he was headed.
Checking on Tom was out of the question. He’s dead. Kenny assured himself. I should follow that guy to see what he’s really up to, Kenny thought, but then he was gripped by something the stranger had said. Wait. The others? He knew I wasn’t alone!
Kenny ran back to the bunker as fast as he could.
#
The sanguine darkness saturating the snowy ground beneath Tom Dexter like a bloody shadow, ceased its expansion. The bullet had passed through his shoulder. Although the shot was not fatal, the jolt was enough to make him loose his footing on the icy ground and hit his head against a tree, knocking him out cold.
It wasn’t long before Tom
came to. How long he had laid unconscious, he didn’t know. Through the searing pain and dizziness, he slowly made his way upright, trying to recall what had happened.
Kenny. I was chasing Kenny, Tom remembered. He shot me? No. No, he didn’t shoot me. He stretched his memory. Wait. There was someone else. I saw him aim at me.
If Tom hadn’t seen the man aiming a gun he might not have pivoted in time and caught the bullet in the throat instead of the shoulder.
Tom needed to tend to his wound and find out what happened, so he scrambled to the bunker as best he could.
The scene at the Matthews’s barn looked like a war zone. The barn was scorched, ammunition casings littered the ground, boot prints and heavy vehicle tracks crisscrossed in the snow.
Damn my mind! Tom cursed his condition. He shook his head, hoping the alternate reality would shift to the real one. He fought through the pain in his shoulder as well as his thoughts. But the real pain grounded him, and he soon realized that there was no shaking off his hallucination. This was real. Something had happened. Something bad.
Clutching his shoulder, Tom continued until he made his way to the bunker hatch and hurried down the ladder. He searched every compartment of the bunker. Everyone was gone.
# # #
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Discover the Tale of Tom Zombie Series
#1 Zombie City
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#3 Zombie Resurrection
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#4 Zombie Survival
The Tale of Tom Zombie (Book 5): Zombie Survival Page 8