The Dead and The Living (Book1): The Dead and The Living

by Wimer, Kevin

  “Mount up!” Tex called out.

  Chris walked around the front of the truck and opened the passenger side door. He stole one last look at those they were leaving behind and then got in. He felt a lump in his throat and a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t coming back. He would give his life to save Brandy. Chris felt his hands shaking as he closed the door and leaned back into the seat. Stop it. You are not the first man to think that way. The voice inside his head echoed. You have a job to do. Get Brandy. Get her to safety and then kill that son of a bitch. Chris blinked his eyes as the engines of the convoy roared to life. He took a breath and slowly let it out as the large bay door in front of him began to open. The moment had arrived. The group was going to risk everything to save Brandy. Chris looked at Tex as the truck pulled forward. He then looked over his shoulder at the men and women in the bed of the truck. The look on their faces summed up how he himself was feeling. Chris turned back around and adjusted himself in the seat. He sat there quietly as they slowly made their way from the armory and across open ground. The truck bounced back and forth as it tossed them around like ragdolls. It was like riding over big rocks but only these rocks were the bodies of the dead.

  The truck pulled through what was left of the front gate. The horde that had once filled the courtyard of Graceland were now dead. The bastards had been chewed to bits by Ron’s men and their machineguns. The road in front of them was open for as far as the eye could see. Chris’s mind raced with thoughts as they drove on. He wished the radio was working. It would have been something to help take his mind off things. He hadn’t heard a working radio station in six months. He doubted that he would ever hear one again. Chris felt a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face as they passed a sign along the side of the road welcoming them to the friendly city of Harrisonburg. Someone had crossed out the word friendly and had replaced it with the word dead. Welcome to the dead city of Harrisonburg. Population of the living. Unknown.

  CHAPTER 19

  Brandy felt her hands and fingers tingling. The sensation of them being asleep was starting to drive her crazy. She could feel the goose egg of a lump on the back of her head throbbing. It was a sickly throb. She knew she had a concussion. She had been hit from behind and knocked out cold. She remembered the kid. She thought his name was Sam. It was a bit foggy as things slowly began to replay in her mind. She could see the boy and the look on his face as she examined him. It wasn’t the look of fear. It had been of fear when they had first found him, but that look had quickly changed to something else—something far more sinister. Brandy remembered hearing footsteps behind her. She turned and found two men. She started to cry out for help when one of the two men grabbed her—wrapping his hand around her mouth. Brandy fought him—fought him for all that she was worth, but the bastard was far too big for her to overcome. She bit his hand until she had drawn blood. The man yelped in pain as he released her. She started to scream again but was quickly struck across the face. The blow to the face had spun her around. Sam stood there looking at her. The look in his eyes was that of delight. The bastard was smiling. Brandy had no time to react. She felt the blow to the back of her head and her legs buckling out from underneath her. She remembered falling to the floor and the world around her slowly fading into darkness.

  Brandy had awoken a handful of times since she had been taken. She had been blindfolded and tossed into the back of a vehicle. She could only guess what kind of vehicle but knew that it was an SUV of some sort. She was in and out of consciousness when she had arrived at wherever she was now. The blindfold had kept her from seeing her surroundings. She remembered feeling a set of hands roaming across her body—acting as if they were searching her for weapons. Brandy had been groped—violated. The feeling of two men grabbing her under the arms and dragging her from the vehicle still lingered. She could still feel her feet hitting the ground as they quickly and carelessly drug her across it. Brandy was far too weak to try and get her footing. She wanted something to drink and she wanted to puke her guts up. She had heard a voice telling the two men to take her to the basement. The man had also said that the Butcher would want to see her. The word Butcher echoed through her mind as she moved her head to try and look through the bottom of her blindfold. She could feel the presence of someone in the room with her. She took a breath and could smell the dank dampness of the basement as it mixed with the foul smell of body odor. It made her want to throw up even more.

  Brandy cleared her throat.

  “Can I have a drink?”

  She sat there for a moment waiting for an answer. The room was silent but the feeling of someone being there with her hauntingly remained. She tried to move her hands and then her fingers. Her hands had been bound behind her back and had gone numb. She thought that she had been tied or cuffed to a metal beam of some sort. She could feel the chill of metal touching her exposed flesh. The tingly sensation was sharp and painful like that of a pinched nerve. It reminded her of the time she had fallen asleep at her desk while working on a paper in college. It had taken her hours to get the feeling back into her hands. Brandy leaned her head back and once again tried to look through the bottom of her blindfold. The room she was in was dimly lit but within that dimly lit room she could see a shadowy figure a few feet away. She could feel her heart begin to tick a beat faster. The silence of the room painful echoed through her throbbing head. She could feel herself starting to panic. Brandy took a breath and then another one. She began counting to ten—hoping that she wasn’t going to have a panic attack. Brandy had had panic attacks as a teenager. It was shortly after her mother had passed away that Brandy had started having panic attacks. She had gone to a handful of therapists until one of them had helped her to gain control of them and the paralyzing fear of having one. She had been instructed to use a breathing method while counting to ten. It had worked and she was hoping that it would work now.

  Brandy had counted to ten three times. The overwhelming feeling of having a panic attack was still there. She started to count again but her mind drifted off into thought. She thought about the people of Graceland. She thought about Tex and Cubbie and Lailah. Brandy took a deeper breath as her mind filled with thoughts of Chris and then the letter that he had given her. She had read that letter each night before tearfully closing her eyes and going to sleep. She wished now that she had talked to Chris more about the letter and about her father. She wished she had told him thank you. Chris had risked his life to bring her that letter. Brandy prayed that she would get the chance to do that. It was then that the feeling of having a panic attack had subsided. The thought of Chris had stopped her from having the attack. Brandy allowed her mind to go there. She allowed it to fill with images of him. His battered and bruised body and the sound of his voice. The two hadn’t shared a lot of long talks but something about him had helped her to feel calm—a stillness within herself that would help her get through this terrifying feeling of having a panic attack.

  Brandy leaned her head back and winched with pain as she touched the back of her head to the metal beam behind her. She had been bound to a rather large square metal beam. The beam was nearly as wide as the frame of her body. She knew it was a support beam for the structure she was in. Brandy’s head throbbed and her mouth felt bone dry. She not only wanted a drink of water but craved it. She took a breath and called out again, but no one answered. The shadowy figure was still there. It hadn’t moved an inch. Brandy started to say something when the sound of a door opening caused her body to become taut with anticipation. The sound of footsteps echoed through the room. It wasn’t just one set of footsteps. She could only guess that the set of footsteps belonged to at least two men. Brandy could feel herself once again starting to panic. She forced herself to think of Chris and what she would say to him when she saw him again. Brandy couldn’t allow herself to think that she would never see him or anyone else from Graceland ever again.

  “Who’s there?” Brandy asked, feeling her heart flutter as
her voice echoed through the room.

  Brandy tilted her head back and looked through the bottom of her blindfold. She could now see a set of booted feet standing in front of her. The boots were a set of well-worn brown hiking boots. She noticed that the boots looked to have been stained with blood. She hoped it was the blood of walkers and not that of living. It was then her mind remembered all the horrid things that Chris had said about the group of survivors he had been with. Brandy’s heart fluttered as she took a quick breath. She forced herself not to feel the fear she had been feeling. She couldn’t let herself look weak. She had to stay strong. She knew these were the kind of men who fed off the weaknesses of others. She had to be tougher and stronger than she truly was.

  “What do you want? She asked, this time her voice wasn’t laced with fear it was edged with a bit of fight, “Why am I here?”

  Brandy heard someone taking a breath and letting out. It was a heavy sigh that was followed by a laugh. She felt a chill running the length of her body. The laugh was a bit of a raspy laugh—like the person might have once been a heavy smoker. The smell that filled the basement was of both piss and shit and various other body odors. She couldn’t tell if the person was a smoker or not. The other foul smells that filled the room had masked it. She sat there waiting for a reply—waiting for something to happen. The wait itself was terrifying. She couldn’t see but a few feet in front of her. The set of booted feet that had been in front of her had disappeared. Brandy could feel her heart racing. The panic attack was starting to edge its way back. She could feel it gripping her. She closed her eyes as the sound of footsteps echoed all around her. She forced her mind to think of Chris. She thought about him and how he had been strong. He had risked his life to find her. He wasn’t like these men that now surrounded her. Chris was one of the few good men left in this world.

  Brandy felt a set of hands touching her. She tried to move but the hands forced her back in place and then pinned her legs to the ground. She tried to move her hands to fight back but her restraints stopped her. The tingly sensation of them having of gone to sleep shot through her like a thousand tiny little needles. Brandy winched in pain as someone grabbed her by the throat and pushed her head back into the metal beam behind her. She felt the hand tightening around her neck. She tried to thrash around but couldn’t. The weight of the man on top of her kept her from being able to do anything. She felt the hands around her neck loosen. She gasped for air as the man laughed and once again tightened his hands around her neck—squeezing until she thought his hands would rip her head off her shoulders. Brandy could feel the world starting to fade. She was passing out from the lack of oxygen. The man let go and Brandy quickly gulped in the foul-smelling air. Her lungs burned like fire. The room filled with laughter. One of the men said that it was his turn. She could hear them arguing—their voices sounded so far away. Brandy was a toy for these sick bastards to play with. She knew what they wanted and what they were going to do to her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop them.

  Brandy felt the weight of the man lifting off her. She felt the pressure of someone that had been holding her legs down letting go. It was only a second or two of relief until the pressure in her legs had returned and the weight of the second man was on top of her. This time the man’s weight was much heavier. She could smell him. His breath. It was like that of soured milk. She listened as they laughed and then felt his hand gripping her neck while his other hand tightly gripped her breast. Brandy gritted her teeth and fought the urge to cry. Don’t show weakness. Don’t gives these bastards the satisfaction. The voice inside her head growled. Brandy gasped for air as the hand around her neck squeezed tighter. Her mind began to slip into a dark place. She began praying for death. She began to beg God to let her die before these men did what they came here to do. The hand around her neck let go. She gulped in air and coughed. She felt the man’s hand grabbing both of her breast before grabbing the neck of her shirt and ripping it open. She listened to the two men as they admired what they were seeing.

  “Deacon said to show our guest here a good time,” the man said.

  The two men laughed as they said some foul things about her and what they wanted to do to her. Brandy’s mind began to race. She felt the pressure in her legs fading. She knew the man that had been holding them down had let go. She tried to kick out at who every might be within reach. Her legs felt heavy and her ability to kick with any certainty wasn’t there. She felt two sets of hands groping her exposed breast. The one man pinched and pulled on her nipples until she thought he would twist them off. Brandy screamed in pain as the men laughed with delight. She felt the hands roaming across her body stopping only when they found an area they wanted to explore. Brandy tried to lash out with her head to headbutt the man atop of her. The man jerked back and then grabbed her by the throat and shoved her against the metal beam and began wailing on her. He slapped her across the face multiple times. He did this until her face had gone numb and the taste of blood filled her mouth.

  “We should teach this bitch some manors,” the man said.

  Brandy felt his lips touching her check and then his tongue touching the lob of her ear. His breath was soured, and she could feel his unkempt beard touching the nape of her neck. Brandy wanted her hands to be free. She wanted a chance to fight back and if these two bastards got the better of her than she would allow whatever was about to happen to happen. She didn’t want to go out without a fight. The weight of the man shifted from her lap to her legs. She felt his hands grabbing at the waist of her pants. He groaned in delight as she felt him unbutton her pants and then quickly pulled the zipper down. She lashed out but to no effect. The man was too far away and his weight kept her pinned to where she was. Brandy wasn’t going anywhere. She felt his hand slipping inside her pants while the other man continued to grope her breast.

  “We should untie this bitch and then tie her into a better position.”

  The man who had his hand in her pants chuckled. He pushed the other man out of the way and then leaned forward. Brandy could smell him before she could feel his beard touching the side of her face. She felt his lips touching her neck—it made her flesh crawl. His foul tongue touched her neck and then her chest—stopping just short of her breast.

  “I get the first go at her,” he said.

  “That’s not—”

  “If you want her untied and in a better position . . . I get the first go.”

  Brandy’s heart fluttered before racing. It beat like a drum in the center of her chest. The two men were going to rape her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could to stop them. She felt a set of hands touching her face and then roughly pulling her head forward. The blindfold was ripped off. Brandy blinked her eyes while trying to get them to focus. She felt a pressure in her hands. Her hands were far too numb to tell what they were doing. It wasn’t but a second until she knew they were free. Brandy felt the hands of the man on top of her wrapping around her neck. It was then that she could make out his features. He reminded her of what a mountain man would have looked like. He looked as if he hadn’t had a bath in years. He smelled like it too. His teeth were yellowed and dark—rotted from what looked like heavy drug use. She had seen it before. The man who had untied her hands stepped around and came into view. He didn’t look much better. The two could have passed for twins—only one of them was much heavier set then the other.

  Brandy quickly looked them over as she brought her arms around to her front. The tingly sensation was still there, and it felt as if it would be for hours. She looked the two men over and could see they had weapons on them. The two men had hunting knives sheathed to their belts. She was sure the two had rifles and maybe a handgun lying somewhere in the dimly lit room. She quickly began taking in her surroundings as the man who had been sitting atop of her got up. He looked at the other man and motioned for him to help. The two men grabbed her by the ankles and drug her into the middle of the floor and forced her onto her back. The foul breathed man
stood atop of her. He looked down at her half naked body with a smile spreading across his face, exposing his rotted teeth. She looked at the man while trying to move her hands and fingers to get the feeling back into them. She watched as he began to unbutton his pants and then his zipper. The other man licked his lips as he looked on and waited for his turn.

  “Take her pants off,” the man ordered.

  The man who had been watching looked at his friend and then down at Brandy. He started to move towards her when Brandy tried to kick him. Her legs were still heavy and useless. It didn’t matter. The man struck her with a closed hand. He hit her until she felt the bone of her nose breaking. The taste of blood filled the back of her throat as she coughed. She was choking on her own blood. The two men laughed. Brandy rolled onto her side and coughed until she was able to spit out the blood that was now choking her. She felt the hands of the men pulling her back onto her back and then her pants being pulled off. She laid there with only her underwear and a half-ripped shirt covering her. It wasn’t but a few seconds later that her underwear had been ripped off and the exposed man was between her legs. Brandy knew that in this moment she could do one of two things. She could give up and let what was about to happen, happen or she could fight back. Her hands were still numb and useless. Her brain was sending signals that her limbs were receiving but unable to do anything about. She looked up at the man whose eyes were filled with delight. He grabbed her by the throat as he inched himself forward. She could feel him. She could feel him as he started to do what she had feared would happen.

  Brandy screamed. The man atop of her laughed and slapped her across the face. He told her to keep her mouth shut or they would fill it with something. The man standing over her laughed and agreed. He had something that would fill it nicely. It was then that Brandy’s limbs started working. She reached up to the man’s face as he started to insert himself into her. She took her fingers and poked him in the eyes with her thumbs—driving them as deep into his eye sockets as she could get them. The man standing above her was frozen. He was slow to react to what she was doing to his friend. The man atop of her lurched back and way. Brandy was quick to react as she grabbed for the man and the knife on his belt. She pulled knife from its sheath as the man who had been standing above her tried to stop her. Brandy felt him grabbing at her arms, but she was far too fast for him to stop her. She drove the blade of the knife deep into his stomach and twisted it. She gripped the handle of the knife with both hands as she moved the blade across his belly feeling his blood and innards rushing out she gutted him.