Most of the infected turned toward the noise of the gunfire, but those closest to their prey continued their attack, pressing ever nearer until the two sides came to a grapple. It was a matter of a few minutes until the last infected was either shot down or clubbed to death and the rescuers and rescued faced each other on the blood-soaked battleground.
The relieved survivors, two men and three women, stared at their saviors, with awe, realizing that they’d live to see another day after all. One of the men finally managed to find his voice.
“I don’t know where you came from; I don’t know how we can thank you!”
“I guess we could start with some introductions; I’m Jerry Moran and this is Garth Moyler.”
“My name’s Martin Reed, this is Alan Cruz, Jessie Young, Larissa Walker and Chloe Carter.” Reed was in his late thirties, about five-ten, solidly built with thinning brown hair. Cruz was a bit younger, four inches shorter, and very thin, with thick black hair and a swarthy complexion. Jessie was approaching fifty with graying brown hair and a slim build. Larissa was twenty years younger with a similar build, about the same height at five-four with tightly curled black hair done up in a ponytail and a dark chocolate complexion. Chloe, on the other hand, appeared barely into her teens; had short, pink hair, now growing out a light brown, a very pale complexion and stood just over five foot tall, looking as though a stiff wind would carry her away.
“How’d you happen to be out here, on foot and without any weapons?
“Car broke down, ran out of ammo,” Reed shrugged.
“You make an unlikely group,” Garth commented. “Did you all start out together?”
“No, we didn’t. I was a lawyer, Alan a math teacher and Jessie was a nurse. We met in what was supposed to be a safe military compound. Well, it was overwhelmed and the three of us all happened to run in the same direction so we stayed together. Larissa,” Reed, obviously the group leader and spokesman continued, “we picked up a few days afterward. She had a bad run-in with some outlaws; we don’t talk about that. We found Chloe locked in a van. Both her parents turned; they were trying to get at her when we found her. She’s never spoken a word since then; we only know her name because she had a school ID card on her. Up until a few days ago, there were six others. We’ve had to fight both infected and gang-members, probably about the same as you, and lost some people on the way.”
“Where have you been staying, or have you been on the run the whole time?”
“We’ve been mostly on the run. We tried to set up in a couple of different places, but either the infected got too thick or other people wanted them more than we did.”
“So, you need a place to stay, somewhere stable and safe,” Garth continued.
“Is there any place like that anymore?”
“Could be,” Jerry said, glancing at Garth, who nodded. “We have a place, but there are only the two of us, not enough to defend it if necessary. If we had a few more people it would increase our odds quite a bit.”
Reed turned to look at his companions. Cruz agreed enthusiastically, Jessie beamed, Larissa smiled broadly and Chloe looked as though she were somewhere in a far off place.
“If you’re willing to take us in, I don’t see how we could possibly refuse,” Reed said, turning back to Jerry and Garth.
So it was settled and seven people rode back to the home together. In the weeks that followed, Garth did his best to instruct all but Chloe in the use of various weapons. Alan Cruz, the former math teacher, turned out to be his star pupil, excelling in all areas while Reed showed modest ability. Jessie exhibited some real talent with a rifle and Larissa was an absolute terror with a club or a bladed weapon. Chloe remained withdrawn, showing no interest in learning to defend herself and was quickly relegated to other duties, mostly concerned with maintaining the household. Jerry and Garth continued making supply and reconnaissance runs, sometimes together, sometimes one of them going out with one of the newcomers. Miles to the east or west the numbers of infected increased significantly, but rough terrain and a paucity of roads to the north split any travelers from that direction and made the area surrounding their home almost an island of security in a sea of chaos.
To be sure, they still had occasional problems with individuals or small groups of infected and were aware of a band of armed men some distance to the south, but no serious threats had yet emerged.
Garth found himself spending a lot of time with Larissa, at first simply because she was so eager to learn and develop her fighting skills, but increasingly because they simply enjoyed each other’s company. Jerry tried his best to bring Chloe out of her shell, making it a point to try to include her in conversations and activities. He would regale her with stories about his show-business career and the small number of famous, much more successful people he’d met and worked with, even singing some of his most popular songs around her. She smiled when she was around him and seemed to genuinely enjoy his company, but still never spoke a word. The other members of her party had already given up on her and, though they treated her kindly, she was ignored when any issues had to be discussed or decisions made.
Reed was not pleased that he’d lost his position as tacitly accepted leader of the group, but he was practical enough to realize that Garth was much more capable and experienced in the type of situation they now faced. Garth, for his part, was astute enough to recognize a potential problem and, without making it too obvious to everyone else, issued instructions and suggestions through Reed making him, in effect, his lieutenant. Jessie was content just having something akin to a normal life again; Larissa was happy with her increasingly intimate relationship with Garth; Jerry didn’t care who led the group as long as he kept them alive and Chloe was seemingly oblivious to it all.
It was far from an ideal life, but it was the best thing any of them had known since the outbreak.
Weeks passed and neither Garth nor Jerry again saw any signs of the armed band they’d encountered earlier. The first snow fell, the temperature dipped below freezing most nights and the infected seemed to disappear. The ground for as far as the eye could see was covered in pure white snow three inches deep. It was as beautiful a sight as any of them had seen in a long time, but it did make travel more difficult. Garth decided it was for the best that they all stayed close to the house, leaving no trail in the unblemished white blanket leading back to them. He did worry about the smoke from the wood fires though and kept a guard on duty at all times.
There was little opportunity for him to be alone with Larissa but, on those occasions when they managed, he found himself unable to consummate their relationship. He attributed it to stress and diet, the endless vigilance needed to keep their home secure, the guilt he felt for trying to find happiness when his every living relative had perished in only a matter of weeks and depression from the change of seasons and the long, cold nights. No other members of their household had that sort of relationship and he thought the problem was his alone.
Jerry still tried to bring Chloe out of the shell she’d built around herself and, little by little, she began to open up and take part in more activities. She still wouldn’t speak to anyone but Jerry hoped he’d be able to get her past that barrier eventually. Alan and Jessie sorted and inventoried their food stocks and figured they had enough to last the better part of a year; time enough to put in a garden large enough to supply them through the next winter. Garth bagged two bucks and a doe in two weeks and, with Larissa’s help, jerked what they didn’t cook up as venison steaks or stew.
As the weather continued to turn colder, the group felt more relaxed, content, the complete absence of the infected contributing to their sense of tranquility. The only indication that there might be others alive in the world was a thin wisp of smoke that could barely be made out far to the north on calm, clear days. Garth knew they’d have to investigate that once the road conditions permitted, but was content just to keep a wary eye on it for the time being.
Chapter 18: The Log Cabin
/>
Karen spotted the big pickup while she and Bailey were out doing some recon west of their home. There was a driver and passenger and two men with rifles in the bed, one with a pair of binoculars dangling from a strap around his neck. The passenger tossed a can out his window and one of the riflemen tilted a bottle to his lips. She watched for several minutes as the truck wobbled unsteadily along the road until two infected, one male and one female, rose up off the ground and started toward it. The truck braked to a hard stop and the two men jumped out of the bed, followed a moment later by the two in the cab.
The driver put a bullet through the male’s skull and the four of them studied the female for a while, using their rifles to block her from getting within biting distance. They talked for a moment longer, then two of them grabbed her arms, holding them out from her sides while a third, wearing heavy leather gloves, shoved a tennis ball into her mouth, tying it there with a dirty bandanna. They tied her hands behind her, bent her over a rail fence and one came up behind her, yanked down her pants and used the boy’s shirt to wipe some of the filth from her backside. He then dropped his pants and took her from behind while two others held her down from the front.
Disgusted, Karen handed the binoculars to Bailey and he watched as the men, laughing, hooting, drinking, took turns with her. When they’d all spent themselves, one of them shot her in the head and, still laughing drunkenly, they piled back into the truck and went on their way.
“I know they’re not really human anymore,” Bailey said, “and she probably had no idea what was happening to her, but still, that’s just- it’s just wrong!”
“They’re not heading toward us, but they’re still too close to our home. We need to get back to Ethan and the others and let them know what we saw.”
“Not Lauren,” Bailey cautioned. “I don’t know how she’d handle something like this. I know we can’t protect her from the world forever, but I think we should keep her in the dark about some of the details.”
“You’re right. We have to let Ethan and Eric know what kind of people are in the vicinity though. Something has to be done about this kind of people.”
Forty-five minutes later, Bailey reported that they’d run across some ‘bad people’ and, while Karen distracted Lauren by asking for her help with a chore in the kitchen, he described what they’d witnessed to Ethan and Eric.
“We obviously have to do something about this,” Ethan stated flatly. “They’re too close. Hell, any place in the world is too close for that kind of scum. You know what direction they were heading?”
“They took the road off to the south. There’s not that much out that way; it’s mostly farmland with only a few houses.”
“If they were as drunk as you say they looked, they’d probably been out for a while, maybe headed back to whatever hole they came out of. I think Karen and I will try to pick up their trail and see what can be done about them.”
“Why you and Karen?” Bailey wondered.
“Yeah, I want to make sure my sister’s safe from degenerates like this,” added Eric.
“I’ve got the experience,” Ethan responded, “and Karen… Let’s just say I know I can count on her not to hesitate if push comes to shove.”
“I guess I understand,” Eric reluctantly admitted.
“I want both of you here and on your guard, just in case there are more of them out there. If anyone comes around, I don’t care what kind of story they have, what kind of fairytale they give you, don’t let them near the house until we get back. Is that understood?”
“You’re the boss,” Eric agreed.
“Good! Remember, your sister’s life depends on whatever decisions you have to make.”
In less than half an hour, armed with his M4, a 12-gauge pump and two 9mm autos apiece, Ethan and Karen headed out to where she’d seen the men in question. Both of the dead infected were in their late teens, possibly a couple who’d snuck off for a romantic rendezvous before being stricken. The girl was once very pretty, though now the whole front of her body was smeared with blood and gore and her backside and legs with excrement. Ethan had to wonder at the depravity of the men who found sexual stimulation there. He untied her hands, took the gag from her mouth and laid her on the ground next to her presumed boyfriend before they took off down the road Karen had seen the truck follow.
Some miles later, they came upon a car partially off the road. They stopped short of it and exited the truck, Karen staying behind the vehicle with the rifle while Ethan cautiously moved forward with the shotgun. The front of the car and the left fender were peppered with bullet holes and the ground was still wet with spilled antifreeze. There were signs of a struggle near the passenger door and the grass leading off into the trees was trampled. Ethan signaled for Karen to remain where she was while he moved on to investigate. Only a dozen yards from the shoulder, he came upon a small clearing and saw two dead women, one in her forties and another her late teens. Both had had their clothing ripped away and it was apparent they’d been raped before having their throats cut. Nearby, a man, presumably the husband and father, was tied to a tree facing the scene. His throat had also been cut.
Ethan hurriedly left the clearing and rejoined Karen, briefly describing what he’d found. They drove on in silence until they crested a hill and pulled off into a grove of trees. Half a mile away sat the truck, now empty, that Karen and Bailey had seen earlier, parked in front of a log cabin. Three other vehicles were parked near it and they watched as a man staggered out of the building, steadying himself against a wall and vomited profusely. When he was done, he stepped a few paces away, dropped his pants and moved his bowels on the pavement before heading back into the building.
“Lovely people,” Karen commented.
“Was he one of the ones you saw on the road?”
“I don’t think so, not unless he changed clothes. That means we have no idea how many of them there are.”
“Or how well armed they might be. You couldn’t tell what kind of rifles they had?”
“Honestly, I didn’t pay that much attention. I guess I should have.”
“Can’t be helped now. We’ll watch them for a while; see if we can get an idea of numbers.”
“What then?”
“If there aren’t too many of them, we’ll go down and kill them,” Ethan’s voice held no emotion, no passion; it was a simple statement of fact.
“Just like that,” she asked. “All of a sudden you’re ready to kill people who aren’t infected again?”
Ethan looked at her for long moments before responding.
“I’m not sure how to explain it to you. I don’t know if I understand it myself. These are people I’ve run into before; not the same ones, but ones like them. They’re the enemy. That’s the way I think of them, anyway. They’ve crossed a line. The things they’ve done set them apart and made them enemies of civilization, of human decency. They’re a threat to you, to Lauren and Eric, to Bailey and to me. It needs to be done.”
“So, how many is too many?”
“It depends on how drunk they are and how alert they are. From what you told me and from what I’ve seen here, I’m thinking we could handle eight or ten of them if we take them by surprise.”
“Ten armed men?” Karen was appalled. “Even if they are drunk, you realize there’s only the two of us, don’t you?”
“Don’t worry,” Ethan smiled at her. “This isn’t my first dance.”
Over the course of the better part of an hour, six men came out of the building to relieve themselves or to bring in more beer from one of the trucks. Karen recognized two of them from earlier and the man who vomited came out and did so again twice more, so there were at least nine men in all.
“We’re going to work our way a little closer now,” Ethan whispered. “There’s a spot about fifty feet from the building where you can keep watch without being seen.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to take a peek in the window and s
ee what’s going on inside. If anyone comes out that door, you know what to do.”
It took nearly fifteen minutes for Karen to maneuver into position as men came out to relieve themselves three more times and one stopped to look in their direction when Karen stepped on a twig. He zipped up and took a step in her direction but slipped on the urine soaked earth and fell into his own filth. Cursing loudly, he wiped himself off as best he could with a handful of leaves and went back into the building. A loud chorus of laughter and shouted abuse followed, but the man remained inside.
Karen positioned herself behind a woodpile with a clear view of the front door and held Ethan’s M4 at the ready while he moved silently to the log wall. The window was small and dirty and distorted his view but he could make out at least a dozen figures inside, though he could see none of them clearly. Two seemed to have passed out on cots and four of them appeared to be on their knees; the rest were sitting or staggering about the room in various stages of drunken revelry.
Ethan nodded to Karen, then rapped sharply three times on the front door and slipped quickly around the near side of the building, back by the window. Silence immediately descended on the building and, a few moments later, one man threw open the door and, closely followed by a second, charged out, gun in hand. Karen tapped out two three-round bursts and both men collapsed in bloody heaps. Ethan shoved the shotgun barrel through the glass and fired once, then hurried to the back door, just in time to cut down another man who tried to make his escape that way. He quickly thumbed two more shells into the shotgun and stood just to the side of the doorframe as the men inside fired wildly. Karen shot another man at the front door and those inside were momentarily distracted, just long enough for Ethan to empty the shotgun through the doorway. He ducked back, dropped the shotgun and drew a pistol with each hand. Karen let off a few short bursts at the front door and the surviving men inside screamed out to surrender.
The Complete Lethal Infection Trilogy Page 60