“I locked June in our room, then I shoved Lenny in another room and shut him in. I helped Jake and Laurie outside. We were trying to patch them up when we heard a crash. June fell from the second-story window. I heard the snap of her bones when she hit the ground. She couldn’t stand, but she began clawing her way towards us, snarling the whole time. Everyone was frozen. We couldn't believe what we were seeing.
“I started towards June when someone screamed behind me. Jake had attacked my cousin Lucy and bit down on her shoulder. It was mayhem from that point. I gathered everyone I could and made a run for the barn. We have been hiding in the loft for the last couple of days," Justin finished in a rush.
"That was a smart move," Wade said, laying a hand on Justin's shoulder. "These things only have one thing in mind and that is to feed on the living. We have a group of folks at Ben's place. We have plenty of food and supplies for now. We came here to see about trading for some building materials. I think we all need to stick together until somebody gets a handle on this infection or whatever is happening. How many do you have hiding up there?" Wade asked.
Justin turned towards the barn and shouted that it was safe. A group of disheveled survivors came out of the barn’s dark interior, shading their eyes from the sun. Wade recognized Francine, Justin's sister. They had dated back in his high school years. There were several teenage boys and Alice and Alisha, Francine's daughters. There were a couple men who Justin introduced as cousins and the boys were Jake and Laurie's sons.
"Let’s get you all back to the farm and settled. Is there anything you need from the house before we go?" Wade asked Justin.
Justin looked towards the house, an expression of dread on his face at the thought of going inside. “We need to lay our dead to rest and gather a few things. I can’t leave my June and the others like this, Wade,” Justin said.
Francine and her girls went inside to gather anything of use in the way of food and clothing. The rest began gathering the dead. Justin used his tractor to dig a large mass grave for his family members. They deserved better but the gunfire had drawn more of the infected to the area.
“We aren’t all going to fit in the flatbed and GMV. We should grab another vehicle,” Wade said, looking around.
“Well, you said you needed lumber. There are two rigs loaded around back of the mill. One is two-by-fours, the other two-by-tens,” Justin said, pointing towards the mill.
“Great. That will come in very handy. You take one and I’ll grab the other. Everyone else, pile in where you can,” Wade said, already moving.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Slow Burn
There are so many things in our everyday lives that we take for granted. The ability to run to the store and buy groceries, internet access, cell service, and medical assistance. The zombie apocalypse quickly makes you aware of a great many of life’s simple pleasures. We still had internet and cell service, but eventually those would fail. Medical facilities were the last place any of us wanted to go, but the need for medical supplies could not be denied. I could only imagine what the hospitals would be like. I did not relish the idea of entering a building full of crazed flesh-eaters. Bodies were another concern. Just the amount of dead that were going to be decaying in the streets and around the farm posed a significant health concern. Contrary to popular belief, it is a lot harder to burn a body than some would think. It’s not like the movies where you pour a little gas on a body and light a match. It takes a considerable blaze to reduce a body to ash. My God. Who would have thought I would ever need to think about how to dispose of corpses.
Wade Marshall
◆◆◆
Wade woke the next morning to the sound of gunfire. Jumping from his bed, he grabbed his AR-15, which he kept close at hand at all times. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust as the sky was just beginning to lighten with the approaching dawn. He saw the GMV and some silhouettes moving out front. Running for the trench, more shapes became visible in the field opposite. It was alive with movement like ants scurrying over a sugary treat dropped on the ground. As Wade approached the GMV, Taco, Z-Dog, and Derek were walking along the trench and firing into the pit intermittently. When Wade looked down, dozens of the infected were in the pit.
“Derek, have them stop firing. I have an idea,” Wade shouted. He ran into a few more men who were coming down to see what was happening. He gathered them up and continued to the barn. Inside, Wade hurried to the racks of hand tools and began handing the men hayforks, hoes, and pry bars, then led them back to the trench. Wade directed those he had gathered to dispatch the infected in the pit.
Wade shrugged at Derek. "May as well save the bullets until we have no alternative."
"Good call," Derek replied.
It was an arduous task dispatching the dead in this manner, but ammunition would soon be more valuable than gold. Plus, anything they could do to keep the noise down would help. Occasionally, Derek would let out a few shrill whistles to attract the attention of the infected that were wandering aimlessly around the property. They did not have any sense of caution as once drawn towards the survivors, they walked directly into the pit without slowing.
Dr. Haynes walked towards them. Once his gaze fell on the pit at all the bodies, his face took on a grim expression and he slowly shook his head. The man seemed to be pondering the mysteries of the universe.
"Hi ya, Doc," Wade said, clapping him on the back.
"Wade, we are going to have some serious health concerns with all of these bodies. We need to find some way of disposing them."
"Well, I suppose we could burn them," Wade said, glancing into the trench.
"That would be best, but it won't be an easy task. Everyone thinks just splash a little gas and light a match and you’re done, thanks to the movies. It actually takes a prolonged and extremely hot burning fire to reduce a body to ash," Billy said, gesturing again at the growing pile of infected bodies.
"We can't take chances with having this many dead infected so near our living space. There is no way of knowing how this virus spreads other than by being bitten. Can animals become infected or can they carry the virus? Same goes for insects. They could possibly be carriers. There are just far too many unknowns to let bodies lie around our home," Billy said.
"Any ideas on an efficient way to get rid of them, Doc?" Wade asked.
"Well, once they are not mobile, we could use hay and possibly cut down some dead trees to throw into the pit, then soak everything with gas. It would require a lot of gas, though. We aren’t talking about a few cans, but more like a tanker truck. Something that would soak all the combustible material thoroughly. Once we get it burning, we keep it burning. Old tires may be good because once they are ablaze, they are near impossible to put out. There was a farm near here many years ago. The owner took old tires and piled them on his property. He must have had hundreds of thousands of tires. Well, somehow, a fire got started. Firefighters were out there for nearly a year trying to keep it contained so it would not spread. It burned for a year or more before it was completely out."
"Mulch." Justin, who had made his way down from the house, spoke up.
"What’s that?" Wade said.
"Mulch would be good to cover the entire pit. It would soak up the gas and be a good way to start along with the dead trees. It may be better to use kerosene as opposed to gas as well. It will burn longer. I remember that tire fire the doc is talking about. Tires would work, but even though I don't think we have to worry about the EPA coming and harassing us for burning tires, we may not want to breath the smoke for any length of time," Justin pointed out.
"Mulch would probably work well, and it’s a lot denser than hay … won't burn up as fast," Doc replied.
"We have a bunch at the mill, too, so wouldn't have far to get it here."
"Sounds like a plan to me. Justin, maybe you could gather a few guys and take them up to get the mulch. I will get Ben to enlist some folks to get some dead woods down here. I will see if I can procure the ke
rosene," Wade said.
Derek nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. I want you to take a couple of my guys with you as well. I think any forays into or near town should have a military escort, in case you get jammed up. I would feel better knowing you have some experienced men there for support.”
“Okay, you choose who you want to come along with Jessie and me.” With a plan in place, Wade turned towards the house to wake Jessie so they could move out.
Luckily, Jessie was up and outside when Wade got to the house. After a few good-natured jabs at Jessie about not sleeping through the gunfire, they made their way to the GMV where Bull and Rico were waiting for them.
"Kick ass taxi at your service, gents. Please keep all extremities in the vehicle at all times and don't forget to tip your driver," Rico said.
"There is a fueling depot on the north end of Winchester. We should be able to find what we're looking for there," Wade replied.
Without further discussion, Bull took off down the dirt lane leading to Route 7. The drive into Winchester showed that there had been much more activity since Wade had come to find Jessie. Even more abandoned vehicles obstructed the road. There were also lots more walking corpses. Even several miles out of Winchester, which was mostly farms and far less populated, higher numbers of infected roamed aimlessly along the entire route.
Wade continued to direct Bull as they entered the city proper. Wade’s heart hammered in his chest as Bull used some very creative driving to avoid huge clusters of the dead. Often times, the dead followed the vehicle, pulling other groups of the infected into a mass of rotting bodies hungering for human flesh. They would definitely have to use another route to get back to the farm. The GMV was far more maneuverable than a tanker truck would be in the city.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Fuel
Many will face a moral dilemma when it comes to survival. Normal rules of civilized society mean you don't take things that don't belong to you. In order to survive your thinking must be adjusted. I knew we would need supplies but taking what we needed would have never crossed my mind in former everyday life. However, with the dead now walking the earth, I realized I couldn't look at it as stealing. This was survival. I would not take from the living, but anything not claimed by someone was fair game in this situation. I decided I would do what I needed to do to keep my family and those depending on me safe. I would not take advantage of other survivors, but I knew there were those who would have no qualms with screwing over their fellow man. The dregs of society were always present even before the dead rose as our enemy, but now there were far less constraints to keep them in check.
Wade Marshall
◆◆◆
They were nearing their destination as they traveled north on Kent Street. Another quarter mile and they would be at the fuel depot. Suddenly, Wade was thrown forwards, mashing his face into the back of the driver’s seat. A woman wearing nothing but her panties walked right in front of the GMV. She froze in place, staring at the front of the vehicle, which was only half a foot away. Rico stood in his seat and brought up his side arm and leveled it with the woman’s head. The woman, finally looking up, threw her hands up while falling to her knees.
“Please … please … no!” the woman shouted between sobs.
Wade jumped out and ran to the woman. One side of her swollen and bruised face was caked with dried blood. Her lips were split and misshapen. She had signs of abuse all over her body. Wade judged the young woman was once very pretty, but now she looked like a wisp of her former self.
"Miss, what happened to you?" Wade gently asked while reaching towards her to help her up.
The woman recoiled from his touch and slid away from Wade, oblivious to the pavement scraping open the skin on her legs and hands.
"Please let us help you. We are not going to hurt you," Wade said, standing and holding his hands up in front of him.
The woman looked up to Wade’s face. There was indecision and fear etched across her features. Slowly, she stood and glanced at the rest of the group. Rico called out to Wade softly and tossed him a fatigue jacket, never lowering his weapon from the woman. Wade caught the coat and held it out to the woman. She slowly came towards Wade and he draped it over her thin frame.
"Please, come with us. We have a doctor at our camp. He can take care of your wounds. Nobody will hurt you there. We just have to get something from the fuel depot and then we are going back to our camp."
"You can't stay around here! When they do a head count and realize I am missing, they will be looking for me. Plus, the lumber company and food plant by the fuel depot has lots of dead people there."
"Who will come looking for you?"
"The Lords and Masters. That’s what they call themselves. A gang of thugs and low-lifes. They have my sister and mother. They’ve taken a lot of women and use us all in one way or another. The older women are made to cook and wait on them, and the younger, prettier women and girls are used for much worse. They beat you if you don't do what they tell you, then take what they want while you’re unconscious. The sick bastards prefer you awake. They get their jollies humiliating us … making us suffer." The woman lowered her head.
Rage roiled inside Wade like a volcano building to eruption. He could not stand by and let this type of thing happen. Men like this needed to be dealt with. They could not be allowed to continue victimizing the survivors.
"What's your name? I’m Wade, the long-haired fellow is my brother Jessie, the soldiers are Bull and Rico," Wade said, pointing to each man respectively.
"I'm Lauren, Lauren Hester. Please tell me you'll help my family and the others?" she pleaded.
"We will do all we can, I promise you. Where are these men located?"
"They have taken over an apartment complex on National Avenue. There’s about twenty apartments in the building."
"How many men are there?" Wade asked.
"I don't know for sure, but there are a bunch … fifteen to twenty? There could be more. We were confined to a room most of the time," Lauren finished.
"Okay, let’s get you in the vehicle. We are going to need to go back to our camp and get more men," Wade said, leading her to the GMV.
They had started drawing attention in the few minutes they had been stopped. The dead were coming from almost every direction. As soon as they had Lauren in the vehicle, Bull hit the gas. When they neared their destination, the street ahead was completely blocked by the infected. They were all gathered in a mass between them and the fuel depot. Wade signaled to Bull to turn into the parking lot of Backseat Bar and Grill. Wade had spent many happy nights there listening to local bands. Jessie’s band played there frequently. They were going to have to find another way to get to the fuel yard.
They jumped the curb at the end of Backseat’s lot and worked their way to the field in front of the Winchester Cold Storage building. The fence around the fuel yard backed up to the building’s lot. There were far fewer of the infected in this area, but there were no gates on this side, either. Just the twelve-foot chain-link fence that encompassed the Holtzman fuel yard. They could make quick work of the fence, but unfortunately there were quite a few dead in the fuel yard and the front gates were open. That meant the mass of infected from the factory adjacent to the depot would have an unimpeded path to whoever went in to get the fuel.
"Well, this is not going to be a piece of cake, that’s for sure," Wade said, scanning the entirety of the fuel yard with his field glasses.
"Lots of trucks in there, but we aren't going to have time to fill them … that much is for certain," Bull shot back.
"You’ve got that right. There are probably about fifty deaders inside the gates and a whole bunch more just outside. I don't think that chain link can hold the horde back even if we get the gates closed without being devoured by the ones inside the fence," Wade said, handing the field glasses to Bull.
"Yeah, this is a real shit show. I don't like our chances with that many infected so near. Are there any other alter
natives?" Bull said, turning to look at Wade.
"Nothing convenient. I am not too excited about having to drive another fifteen miles to get to a fueling station in a less populated area."
"I might have an idea," Bull said, panning the binoculars farther to the west towards the lumber company. “Hang on, everyone.” Bull whipped the GMV around and headed back out of the industrial park and towards Route 11. “I think a little re-con is in order before we move forwards with trying to get our hands on any fuel,” Bull said in way of explanation of the sudden departure.
Bull ran parallel to the street where the dead were massed and slowed as he came down a residential street. There were some dead visible, shambling aimlessly around, but at the sound of the GMV they turned as one and began their discombobulated gait towards the vehicle.
"No guns. We gotta do this quietly," Bull said as he stepped from the GMV and pulled out the biggest K-bar knife Wade had ever seen.
Without hesitation, Rico was out and moving. After telling Jessie to stay with Lauren, Wade jumped out and followed the two soldiers, who were already dispatching the first of the infected to come into range. Wade pulled the machete from his hip and moved up with the soldiers as they met the dozen or so dead moving their way. Bull, who was seriously built like a Brahma Bull, was methodically dispatching the dead to their final death. He was driving the knife through their skulls with such force that the cross piece on the twelve-inch blade was flush with the tops of their heads. A chill went down Wade's spine as on several occasions the bones in the undeads’ necks gave way with a brittle snap.
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