The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 1): Awakening

by J. D. Demers

The rain came down and I could hear thunder off in the distance. Hopefully that covered the gun shots from before, and maybe it would cover the next one.

  I walked up to Sarah, stopped five feet away, and shot her in her head. It was a little more comfortable, I noticed, firing outside. There were not any walls to reflect the blast and play havoc on the eardrums, which still hurt from the shots I fired twenty minutes earlier.

  She instantly went limp. One side of her face was still soft and pretty, the other mangled and torn. I had to suppress some bile that was coming up in my throat. An hour ago, she was alive, running for her life. She thought she found safety, and then she was dead. I kept repeating the question “Why did Dave get back up?” and “Will Sarah get back up?” over and over. After a moment, I pushed the questions aside. I was procrastinating.

  You know what you have to do, the annoying voice said again.

  I did know what I had to do. As much as it made me sick to my stomach, I knew I had to make sure they were dead. The rain hadn’t let up. It was pouring with random cracks of thunder in the distance. The downpour actually made things easier, I think.

  I bent down to a knee and looked at Sarah’s face. I turned her head so that the mangled side was the only part I could see. I think I did that so I wouldn’t see the human in her. I’m not sure how much better that made me feel in the end, though.

  I reached back with the machete and hacked at Sarah’s neck. There wasn’t a clean cut. It was messy and disgusting. Again, I thanked the rain. No matter how hard I hit it, though, the spinal column would not break.

  I was getting angry. It wasn’t coming off. Tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the rain. I grabbed her hair, cursed at her, and struck again and again. Pain shot up and down my left arm as the wound on my shoulder ripped open, but I didn’t care anymore. I had to take her head off. I pulled and swung and pulled and swung until finally, it gave way and caused me to fall back on my ass. My hand was still holding her head by the hair.

  I just sat there, staring straight ahead. I didn’t look at her body, her head, or Dave. I cried and sat silently in the rain, letting my tears stream down my face. This is where I think I finally went over the edge. Not crazy really, but I had crossed that marker from civilized man to a barbarian.

  I was more methodical when I decapitated Dave. It seemed easier. I guessed killing him a second time made it seem like I wasn’t hurting my friend.

  I grabbed a shovel from the garage and started to dig two holes. The challenge was that Florida was basically a sand bar sitting on water. The rain didn’t help, and I was only about a foot down when the hole began to fill up with water. I didn’t care and kept digging. There was no point in trying to dig holes for their bodies. I didn’t have the strength or the will to be outside that long. I just dug two small pits and placed their heads down in them.

  After I covered up the holes, I stuck a two-by-four in the ground near where I had buried Dave’s head and then fastened his dog tags to the top. I carved ‘Sarah’ into another board, used ‘Doe’ as her last name and put it next to where her head was buried. It seemed strange to bury someone, or rather, partially bury someone I hardly knew, but I felt I had to at the time. I tried to hold on to my humanity, even though I had just chipped off a large part of it.

  I dragged the two bodies close together and threw the blanket over them. That was about as far as I was going to go. I didn’t want to spend another second outside, even though I had yet to see one zombie during the process.

  By the time I was done it was late afternoon. I went inside and cleaned up the mess by the back door. I used spare sheets to sop up the blood on the kitchen floor, and used as little water and cleaner as possible to finish the job.

  After that, I decided it was time to change my bandages again. Blood had seeped through. Between the rain and me overworking my shoulder, the bandages loosened their grip. I must have disturbed the area pretty bad, because it was bleeding steadily again. I would need to take it easy the next couple of days if I was going to heal right.

  I was done doing inventory for the day. I was tired, emotionally drained, and in pain. The rain had slowed down to a drizzle, and I could see the clouds were starting to break up. I could tell the sun was close to setting, too. I went around the house and shut most of the curtains. I left a partial opening in each room to retain what little ambient light there was from outside.

  This made the inside pretty dark, though, and I suddenly remembered Dave had gotten a pair of solar powered flashlights in the mail last year. He said they would be great if the power ever went out. I looked in his closet but didn’t see any. Then I remembered he put one in the laundry room. I grabbed it then checked his bug out bag and found the other one. I put them both on the windowsill, hoping there would be enough sunlight left to charge them both for the night. I still had two other flashlights I could use with batteries just in case I needed them, but I would make the solar rechargeable ones my main source of light at night.

  I felt tired and hungry, so I opened up a can of stew and green beans. Since they didn’t need to be cooked, I didn’t have to waste the gas from Dave’s portable stove. I would save the ground beef in the freezer until the next day. The canned food tasted good, but there wasn’t enough. I forced myself not to open the second can.

  The loss of Sarah was such a roller coaster. I hadn’t really thought about how lonely I actually was. As the sun started to disappear, I heard new gun fire off in the distance. That gave me some hope. That meant there were still others out there fighting to survive.

  I made a note. If I ever ran into anyone else, I would leave the fact that I had been bitten by a zombie out of our initial conversation. Whoever it was on the radio that told Sarah and her friends that a bite meant infection had it wrong, but I didn’t want another incident like the one that happened that day.

  I started to get anxious as the sun went down. It was dark and there were still enough clouds in the sky to block out the moonlight. Even after my eyes adjusted, it was hard to see around the house. I didn’t want to risk an unwanted guest by lighting a candle or turning on my flashlight, so I just sat there in the dark.

  Moans from the undead could be heard now. Slowly and carefully I made my way to the window. I could see shadows moving around the neighborhood. That pretty much confirmed my conclusion that they didn’t like the sunlight very much. I was sure they were not vampires, though. I had seen plenty moving around during the day on my way to the FEMA camp, but they had been slow and sluggish. Even with the sun only partially out, like it was that day, they would mostly disappear. When the sun goes down, though, they all seem to come out to play. Zombies, I figured, were nocturnal for some reason. That was a good piece of information to have.

  One of the zombies moved into my front yard, and lumbered in the direction of my house. I quickly closed the drape, and hid next to the window. I could hear him groaning and shuffling through the grass. Something touched my window. I could hear something slimy and wet rubbing against the glass.

  I wondered if it was testing the house. Like the zombie was checking to see if it could scare some prey out of its hiding spot. I was sure it didn’t see me because it didn’t charge at the window. I had no idea what senses they had. The idea that they would have predatory instincts, like a fox trying to scare a rabbit out of its hole, was disturbing. If that’s what this creature was doing, I didn’t fall for it, and it soon moved on. I had the thought of finding every director that had ever made a zombie movie and putting a bullet in their head. There was probably no need for that, though. Most were undoubtedly dead already.

  At that moment I heard a distant shriek. It was familiar to me, but I couldn’t place it at the time. I chanced a peek out of the window. The zombie that was moving away suddenly stopped. It cocked its head to the left, waited, and the shriek rang out again. This time, its head cocked to the other side and it changed direction and walked out of the south end of my yard. I thought it might have been a wild boar
or something getting eaten by one of the undead.

  One thing was clear, though. This house wasn’t safe. I had a feeling it didn’t matter where I went. There would always be the danger of the dead, but I could at least start looking for something more formidable than where I was staying.

  Chapter 6

  A New Friend

  March 26th Sunrise

  The next few days were pretty uneventful. I stuck to my word and did little so that I could start to heal properly. By day two, the wound wasn’t bleeding anymore and the scabs were thick. That was a good sign I thought. I made sure to change the bandages a couple of times a day, and let the wound air out for an hour or so. I realized I would need more medical supplies sooner or later. I was already running low and estimated that I only had a few more applications left before I would have to start improvising.

  Four days of lying around left me a lot of time to think. This house wasn’t safe. The bay window was just a speed bump if those things wanted to get at me. I had to start thinking of moving. But thinking was all I could do. I wasn’t going to risk my shoulder getting messed up again.

  The nights were busy with zombies, though I did see a couple moping about during the day. One was following a raccoon that it was probably never going to catch. I guessed that they were just more active at night and rested or retreated while the sun was out. After all, they were around when it was cloudy, but seemed to disappear during a heavy rain. I wasn’t sure why, but it was good information.

  I thought my food would last me longer, too, and I was wrong. The body requires fuel to heal and with nothing else to do, I ended up going through almost all of my canned food along with the pound of ground beef in the first four days. I really didn’t want to dip into my supply of MRE’s quite yet, so I started thinking of where I could go to get more canned goods. I had to be smart about any scavenging runs, so I made a few rules for myself with the intelligence I had gathered thus far.

  One rule was that I could only travel outside while the sun was out. I knew there would be less of them milling about, and that upped my chances of success and survival. Heavy rain also seemed to scatter the dead, but it also would slow me down, and I didn’t want that.

  Another rule was, and I hated this, I could not drive my car. As much as it seemed like a great way to get around, I had a feeling that the noise of the engine would arouse any of the zombies within earshot. I might make it into another house or a store, but I may be coming out to a party that I didn’t want to be a part of.

  At least while I was on foot, I could outrun them. Zombies were sluggish during the day. The night, however, was a different story.

  I also had to be sensitive to how much noise I made. Sarah had said that she thought the radio attracted a bunch of the dead. I was positive that her yelling had attracted Dave’s corpse as well. I had to be careful with what I wore and what dangled from my clothes while I was out scavenging.

  Above all, and probably the most important, was self-defense. This was a hard one. The sounds of a gun would surely draw their attention, and personally, my eardrums still hurt from shooting Dave inside the house. I had rummaged through Dave’s things and found some fancy ear protection that hooked onto the ear. They had an outside plug with a cap that could be flipped open to hear better when you weren’t blasting away. Too bad Dave didn’t invest in a silencer.

  I also told myself to avoid getting in a wrestling match at all costs. Dave was stronger than he should have been, and I had a feeling most of the zombies would be pretty tough. They were also persistent as hell, never quitting or stopping until they got what they wanted or were put down. At any point, one could decide to take a bite during a scuffle, and although I thought I was immune, I didn’t know for sure. Either way, they were strong enough to rip flesh off in one bite, and immune or not, I didn’t want that to happen.

  I had come up with a strategy for gathering supplies from nearby homes. I was only going to go to homes that either didn’t have cars, or had the front windows smashed outward. I had seen a few houses like that when I went to the FEMA camp, and it seemed logical that whatever zombie was lurking in the house had already found its way out. If there weren’t any vehicles, it probably meant the people had left before things went to shit.

  And lastly, no mistakes. Sarah made the error of not looking where she was going. I could not afford to do that. One mistake could be my last. I had to pay attention. Being brave also meant being stupid. Being stupid was a mistake. I was probably still alive because I didn’t help that man at the intersection. I also could have been killed if I had tried to drag Sarah away from Dave. Maybe I was being cowardly, but as long as I was still alive, that was okay.

  I probably shouldn’t have to say that the last rule didn’t last too long. I made plenty of mistakes over the past year.

  Over those few days that I took to heal, I gathered the gear I thought I would need for scavenging. It consisted of a multi-tool, (which contained of a set of pliers, a screwdriver, file, a couple of blades and more), a small crow bar, Dave’s handy K-bar, which was basically a large sturdy knife, a web belt for my Glock’s holster and other attachable equipment, and spare ammunition and magazines. I would also use my backpack to hold any supplies that I found. I still had my old army boots, and put on a pair of Dave’s cargo pants. I decided to stay light, just in case I had to make a quick getaway.

  On day five, I was feeling much better. My wound seemed to be healing great and my muscles were no longer sore from the fight with Dave. My shoulder still hurt, so I couldn’t put my backpack all the way on and had to leave it dangling around one side.

  The sunrise made it over John’s house and beamed through my window. That was the sign I had been waiting for. It would give me enough time to scavenge a few houses in my neighborhood, and get back home before noon. I made sure all my gear was secure and prepared to venture out for the first time in days.

  I checked the street through the front window. It was all clear. I opened up the door, just a crack, and peered out. All clear again. I had decided the day before that I wouldn’t lock the front door, or the back for that matter. If I had to make it quickly back in my house, I didn’t want to fumble with keys. If I was being chased, I could run around to the backyard and jump the fence. It seemed like a sound plan.

  I walked out front and quietly shut the door behind me. The street was empty. I had decided to go to John’s house first. His kids had moved out long ago, and I had seen him and his wife leave. His house should be clear.

  I sprinted across the street as quickly and quietly as I could. I stopped by his garage door. His home was newer and had a large two car garage. The rain had washed away the blood that had spilled in his front yard, but I could still see some flesh on the shattered glass of his bay window.

  I tried the door first and it was locked. I thought that might be the case, and almost started to pry it open with the small crowbar but stopped myself. That violated one of my rules of being quiet. I didn’t know if zombies could hear, let alone how well they could hear. The streets were dead silent and any noise above a whisper might as well be an invitation to some zombies that might be hiding nearby.

  I snuck over to the window. As I climbed in, I cringed as I did my best to avoid the chunks of flesh still on the shards of glass. I told myself to get over it.

  The smell in the house was pretty bad and there was blood splattered in random locations. I could make out where his wife had been killed. It was on the tile where the living room met the kitchen. A few flies buzzed around, and I swatted one that came too close. I was still a little squeamish, and sucked in a breath as I avoided the dried pools of blood on my way to the pantry. You would think after what I had to do a few days before with Dave and Sarah, I would be beyond such a trifle thing.

  The smell was awful as I neared the kitchen, and I soon saw why. John had two little dogs, and both had been ripped to pieces. Their partially eaten bodies were festering with larva from the flies. I looked away and
tried to ignore the canine massacre.

  The pantry was only part way full. I found about ten cans of food, a couple of boxes of pasta, some spaghetti sauce, and a box of dog treats. There were other little things too, like granola bars, chips, and a box of separately packaged brownies. I was excited. There was enough food to fill up my backpack right there.

  I made my way home without incident and it wasn’t even close to noon yet. I ventured out one more time that day, hitting a house just down the road, and scored a few more cans of food. After all was said and done, I had enough food, besides the MREs, for at least another week.

  The next day, I decided to do another scavenging run. After all, a week’s worth of food was only good for a week. I decided to check on the next street. There weren’t any houses left on mine that didn’t have the windows knocked out, and pretty much everyone had a car in the front.

  The sun was blazing, and I only saw one zombie. It was standing in the shade of a house a few hundred feet away from me. I stayed quiet and moved along the side of the houses and privacy fences. It was far away, but I didn’t want to take a chance at how well these creatures could see. Either way, it didn’t notice me.

  I saw a new house, probably only two years old, and it looked perfect. It had a large wooden privacy fence and had to be over two thousand square feet. The front window wasn’t knocked out, but there wasn’t a car in the driveway either. The landscaping was beautiful, which usually meant money. Money could mean a good stock of food and maybe some other things I could use.

  I tried the front door, but it was locked. Breaking a window was out of the question, so I moved to the door of the privacy fence. It had a padlock on it, but they had forgotten to lock it. I took off the lock and proceeded into the backyard. With any luck, they didn’t lock the back door either. Privacy fences were a deterrent from would-be thieves. Dave and I left our back door unlocked plenty of times, and we only had a chain link fence.