A Broken World (Book 2): Shattered Paradise

by Lauck, Andrew

  I examined the trees nearby, angling myself so that I could see the branches against the moonlight that peeked through the clouds periodically. The leaves were all gone, so camouflage was out of the question, but I needed to be up off the ground if I wanted to sleep, and far enough out of view from the road that I wouldn’t be immediately spotted. I also had to locate a branch or a branch formation that could support my weight, since I wasn’t exactly a lightweight.

  After several minutes of waiting for the moon to shine through before moving on to the next potential tree, I found a good prospect and stepped back up the rise into the woods. Keeping my bearings to the road, I made my way to the base of the tree and looked around. I was deep enough into the woods that you’d have to know what to look for, and I would be high enough that no one would naturally see me. Good enough.

  Of course, while I was busy judging the tree, I wasn’t aware of the zombies sneaking up on me as I heard a twig snap way too close for comfort and spun to find three of them almost on top of me. The closest one reached out and caught its fingers under the strap of my backpack, pulling me closer even as I turned to get some distance.

  I grabbed its wrist with my right hand and twisted, effectively snapping the bones in its forearm and leaving that arm dangling at its side, but I knew that wouldn’t do a damn thing in the long-run as they felt no pain. I couldn’t risk using the Sig except as a last resort, both to conserve ammunition and avoid bringing more of them down on me, so I unsheathed my Ka-bar and prepared myself.

  The zombie with the broken forearm was still closest, so I delivered a straight kick into its chest and knocked it to the ground. That would buy me some time to deal with the other two, even as the moon disappeared behind the clouds and shrouded us in total darkness. Talk about shitty timing.

  I dug in my pocket for the lighter and slowly backed up, not wanting to have that tripping fantasy become real. Praying that it had fuel, I flicked it open and scrolled the flint. No dice, and I didn’t have time to try again since I heard a short moan to my left before a hand landed on my shoulder.

  Jerking to the right, I accidentally threw my shoulder against a tree, which sent a spike of pain through my back. Gritting my teeth, I lashed out with a right hook and caught the zombie across the jaw. After so much weather exposure and decay, the bones were so weak that the bones crumpled and its lower jaw ripped away in a sickening display of flesh that I was thankful not to see.

  I ducked out of the way, though, and stepped back once again, trying to time it right so that I could strike with the moonlight. Sure enough, the light illuminated enough of the woods for me to gauge the threats and I moved in to finish the one with the broken jaw. Ignoring its hands grabbing at my arms, I jammed my Ka-bar straight into its nasal cavity, its face almost deflating as it caved in under the force. The one I had kicked was still struggling to get up, as it couldn’t use its right arm to prop itself up on, so I shifted to the last one standing.

  The moon faded behind the curtain of clouds once more, and my eyes hadn’t adjusted, but I knew how close the zombie was and its relative position, so I ducked close to the ground and listened intently. My ears had grown accustomed to the natural sounds of the area, so I was able to drown out the patter of rain, the slight whistle of a breeze, until I focused on the sloshing of mud three feet to my one o’ clock.

  I stood and kicked out low, feeling my heel connect with a sickening crack and knowing a knee was shattered as a result. Not hesitating to follow up, I sent out another kick and hit something, unsure which body part it was. I couldn’t risk putting my hand anywhere near its mouth, and since I couldn’t see it, I continued to stomp and kick the downed zombie, moving my strikes up until I was sure I felt my heel sink into mush.

  Once more, the moonlight revealed the scene and I was able to see the horrendous grotesquery of my actions, the zombie’s broken ribs pushing through the skin around the sides, the left leg distorted at an awkward angle, and the skull smashed in around my shoe. I think I could’ve done without seeing that one, but it gave me an opportunity to locate the last zombie and put it out of its misery, leaning in and stabbing it in the temple. Quick and clean, unlike the first two.

  Before the moon faded again, I did a three-sixty and made sure I was alone this time. Aside from the three bodies, it was just me again, so I moved back to my tree and started climbing. It was slow progress, as the bark was slick, and my legs quickly grew tired, but I made it to a branch almost fifteen feet up and accepted that would do. I reached over and slid my backpack’s straps onto a few smaller branches before removing my belt and securing myself to the branch under me.

  The night wouldn’t be comfortable and I would definitely feel this in the morning, but a few hours of sleep was better than nothing. All I know is that I had almost been killed because I had grown complacent to the zombie threat, a mistake that I couldn’t afford to make again. I’m not sure if it was the rain or if I had zoned out down there, but I would have to be more alert in the future. Assuming there was a future.

  Chapter 57

  Unknown Date +8

  I had another nightmare last night, which wasn’t anything new, except for the subject matter. After Chicago, my nightmares varied constantly from zombies to cannibals. There was one where I was back in that car after escaping, contemplating the lack of hope, the silence stretching on before I actually pulled the trigger, which is when I would wake up. But this one…this one has been different. I wrote it in here earlier, where I was able to get to Samantha and Phillip before they died, but the result is always the same. I always get to them, always get them out, but no matter how hard I try, no matter how many zombies I kill or how far we get, I always lose them and have to relive their deaths every night. I don’t know if you care, or if it’s worth mentioning, but it just makes me feel better to write it down since I have no one else to talk to at the moment. I guess I got used to having Kat around and, as emotionally solid as I am, it was nice to share things.

  Anyway, sunlight brushed against my eyelids and woke me from my slumber. I drew my eyes open and glanced around, recalling that I couldn’t move around too much or risk falling fifteen feet. The good news is that there was no sign of a threat nearby, as the only zombies around were lying brutalized at the base of this tree. The bad news is that I had to be very careful about getting down from said tree.

  With that in mind, I reached over and pulled the pack from the branch it rested on and shrugged it on. Reaching down with one hand, I undid the belt and eased it over my shoulder before sitting up and sliding myself back toward the trunk until I felt bark. The next several moments were spent climbing down, but to breeze past that discomfort, I ended up with my feet on the ground and my belt back on.

  Taking a moment to check the three dead zombies for anything useful, and finding nothing, I got my bearings and made my way back down the small rise to the road. I made sure I was clear in all directions before turning left and continuing in the same direction I had been going yesterday.

  A few weeks ago, the sun was a pain in the ass to sweat off, causing me to limit my outfit options. Now, the sun on my back was a blessing, helping to warm me up until I found something better to wear, especially after the rain soaking me thoroughly over the past several hours. If I had to be honest, I guess I didn’t expect to make it to the winter.

  Of course, it was also interesting to me that at this time those same weeks ago, I was surrounded by dirt and sand, which looked as awful as the current situation, but now I could only see fields of white for as long as the eye could see. The snow looked so innocent, which was so weird since the world was anything but that now. Nature’s irony, I suppose.

  While I had been admiring the literary amusement of my predicament, I hadn’t neglected to keep my ears attuned to my environment and I heard a very faint sound coming from behind me. I stopped in my tracks and looked over my shoulder, seeing nothing, but I continued to listen for another ten seconds before the familiar sound registered.<
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  Keeping my attention on the humming in the distance, I headed off the road and deeper into the snow to my right. The trees would have provided better cover, but the tree line had ended a few minutes ago and it would take too long to backtrack. On that note, to quickly cover up my tracks, I ran in a few circles to create multiple foot trails as the sound of the engine became more apparent. Unfortunately, the further from the road I got, that wasn’t the only familiar sound that I heard.

  Coming toward my direction from maybe a hundred yards out, I saw several undead against the white backdrop. I had a very shitty choice to make, with crazy, gun-toting truckers behind me, and an unknown number of zombies in front of me. With the sound of the trucks sounding like they were right on top of me and knowing I hadn’t been spotted yet by either party, I stopped moving and fell backward into the snow.

  After last night, the snow was more than deep enough to cover me so I just had to hold my breath and wait. The trucks came to a stop and I heard two doors open and shut.

  “See that, Ray? More of those fuckin’ things just walking around, asking for a bullet.”

  “Come on, Jared, we’re only looking for the one guy, and he’s not a zombie.”

  “Never a bad time for a little target practice. Besides, maybe he’s close and the gunfire will scare him out.” Ray laughed to himself and a few seconds later, I heard the crack of a rifle split the air. There was a clang of brass bouncing into the bed of the truck. I couldn’t tell if Ray was a good shot or not, but I heard someone whistle and another laugh, so it must have been pretty impressive.

  “Are you done, man? We can’t waste ammo until we find this guy and put him down.” A pair of gunshots sounded.

  “Just a few more. Y’all are welcome to join.” Another car door opened and, after a minute of tense silence, gunfire erupted. I could hear bodies drop a lot closer to me than I was comfortable with, making my stomach tight with anxiety. I didn’t count the shots, but it was another minute before the gunfire ceased.

  “Damn, that felt good. I know Ty wants us to play by the rules, but you can’t tell me that sometimes it doesn’t feel good to just kill some of ‘em.” Someone grunted an approval and I heard rounds rattle together as they were pulled from a box, the truckers reloading.

  The engines started up and I heard both doors shut again, but the trucks didn’t immediately roll out. I waited patiently, staying against the wet ground, my clothes soaked through, knowing that if I drew any attention I would be shot. Been there, done that, getting shot sucks.

  Footsteps crunched in the snow nearby and I could see the right sleeve of a zombie walking past me. I thought Ray and Jared had killed the entire group, but apparently I was wrong, as I made out three distinctly different pairs of feet walk past. One such zombie was heading directly for me and, as it closed in on my position, it grew excited.

  In its excitement, it tried to walk too fast and stumbled forward, the snow muffling its moan. I lifted my feet slightly and shoved my heels down against the back of its head, keeping its face buried. The rest of its body writhed in the snow and I knew it would draw too much attention within moments if I didn’t act.

  Pressing my heels harder against its head, I slid my body down in the snow and stretched out my knees to the sides to keep myself covered by the two feet of snow. I pulled out the Ka-bar and angled my torso sideways, allowing my arm to reach underneath the back of my legs and stab the zombie through the temple. Its body slumped into the snow and stopped moving, but I stayed in that incredibly uncomfortable position to avoid drawing any more attention.

  It wasn’t until the engines shifted gears and the trucks started rolling that I exhaled and withdrew my weapon, sheathing it and counting to thirty in my head before sitting up. Staying low, I leaned up until my sightline was just over the snow, observing the four zombies left by the truckers. I didn’t need to take them out, as the snow was proving treacherous for their footing, so I focused on the area ahead of me that they had come from.

  It was a risk, but I felt like the zombies had come from somewhere nearby so I stood up from the snow, brushed my ass off, and set off in that direction.

  Chapter 58

  Unknown Date +8

  The sun’s position overhead told me it was around noon when I saw my first signs of where the hell I was. I could see several buildings in the distance, and a billboard a hundred yards to my left read, “Welcome to Brookville!” Now I just needed to get inside to check the map and figure out exactly what direction I was in, which meant more walking through the damn snow. Not exactly a winter wonderland…

  After trudging through the slush, and feeling some of it get into my shoes, I made it to what seemed to be the main road through Brookville. Many of the buildings that had looked solid from the back were bombed out, burned, or collapsed from the weathering. What had once probably been a beautiful community was reduced to desolation, just like every city in the aftermath.

  Not dwelling on that thought, I made my way into the town and finally found a small building that was still intact. The brick walls and lack of windows must have helped it stay up, though with the door shut I had no idea what that meant remained inside. Preparing for the worst, I stepped up to the side of the door and tapped on it with the barrel of my Sig.

  As I waited outside for any sounds that meant I needed to go in hot, I noticed something odd about the door. It opened outward, like most houses, but it had been nailed shut from the outside with three two by fours up the length.

  “What the hell…?” I muttered to myself. Hearing no moaning within, I assumed the boards were there to dissuade thieves. Holstering my Sig, I used the Ka-bar to pry off the boards and pulled open the door with little effort.

  The smell that drifted out immediately put me on alert and I stepped back into the snow. Between the military and the apocalypse, I was all too familiar with the scent of death and it was heavy in that house. Watching the darkness, I saw movement coming toward me and, I’ll be honest, I was not ready to see what came next.

  It was crawling on the ground because its legs were so deteriorated, as was the rest of its body. This zombie must have been sealed in that house for weeks, maybe even months, to experience that level of decay. Its weak arms dragged it forward past the door and I noticed the mouth had been sewn shut. Now, either someone had a lot of balls to get that close to a zombie’s mouth, or it had been done before the person had turned.

  Either way, as much as I hated the idea, I needed to investigate and find out just what the hell I was dealing with in this area. I walked forward and, with a look of sadness in its eyes as it tried to look up at me, stabbed my Ka-bar down into the back of its skull. The zombie went lifeless in the snow, and I wiped my knife off before putting it back and walking into the house.

  Again, the smell hit me in a wave of nausea that had my stomach rolling, so I used my shirt to cover my face as much as possible. I pulled out the lighter from my pocket and flicked it on, the small flame illuminating enough for me to regret ever opening the door.

  Three bodies were in the far corner of the room, two with mouths sewn shut. On closer inspection, unfortunately, the last one had ripped open its threads, as the lips were torn up like someone had taken a knife and stripped them into tatters. Their legs, as well as the one out front, had claw marks in the legs and arms, with chunks of flesh missing from their extremities.

  One thing puzzled me, so I went back outside and carefully cut the stitching on the zombie’s mouth. Dried blood caked the entire inside, but I got the answer to my question. Even if the mouth was shut, a zombie would still try to moan, but this one made no sound because it had eaten its tongue. Still, there was too much to suggest otherwise, and the conclusion I reached was sickening.

  Someone had sewn four people’s mouths shut and sealed them inside that house with nothing, at least one of them infected. One had tried to eat, ripping open his lips, but eventually all four had cannibalized themselves to death. I guess the one in the snow ha
d been the last to turn, as the other three had their heads fractured or beaten.

  I know it was a risk, but as I was still just a human being, I carried the snow zombie back inside and, after a few tries, set the bodies on fire, giving them some semblance of peace. The question remained of who was responsible, though, as I left the burning house and continued further into Brookville.

  After another five minutes, I came to what might have been a mom and pop general store, as there were a few rows of empty shelves visible from the street. Still, it was intact and would get me out of the snow, so I entered and carefully made sure the building was empty before setting down my pack, pulling out some ramen and the map. I crushed up the ramen in its bag and poured in the seasoning before looking over the map, enjoying a dry lunch while I figured out one answer to the many questions I had in my brain.

  Brookville was far to the east of Cedar Lake and Crown Point, almost into Ohio, so I took a moment to plot out a short-term route as best I could. I had almost finished my noodles when another potential answer rolled up down the street. At the same time that I had wanted to put the bodies to rest, I figured the smoke from the fire would lure the people responsible back if they were nearby.

  The trucks from before were parked outside the brick house and they were arguing over how the hell a fire had started in there if they didn’t have any matches. Circle gets the square, although I’m not sure knowing the truckers were deranged was helpful. Before, they were just guys with a camp that liked to shoot at people. Now, they were guys with a camp that liked to sew people’s mouths shut and lock them inside houses until they cannibalized themselves from starvation. Not exactly a plus.

  But if they were the reason for the warning on the road I had seen miles back, how far exactly did their radius stretch? How long did I need to stay off the road? And were they the only group like this, or were they part of some larger group that spanned the highway? So many questions, and not one part of me wanted to find out the answers. Still, one thing was certain: I needed to get the hell out of this building.