Marionette Zombie Series (Book 7): The Forgotten Place

by Poe, S. B.

  “I liked it fine. That’s why I want to know. Why would we leave unless it was to be happier?”

  “And safer.” Jahda said.

  “Are we safer?”

  “Well we’ve got walls and roofs that don’t leak and lots of stuff between us and the dead.” Jahda said. “That’s a little better than a fence and some stumps.”

  “I guess.”

  “As far the happy part, we’ll just have to make sure that we are. Okay?” Jahda smiled at her.

  “Okay.” Ham turned in the chair and stood. She walked over to the door.

  “I think I’m going to find Opa now.” Ham said.

  Jahda watched as she slung the rifle over her shoulder. She remembered the little girl next door and realized how much she had really changed. There was something harder about them all now but she thought that Ham had held onto more of who she had been.

  “Okay. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight little girl. See you tomorrow.” She leaned down and hugged her.

  Ham walked back into the darkness across the street. She paused in the middle of the road and looked both ways. The light from the quarter moon cast just enough light to shimmer off the asphalt and cast shadows of the weeds growing in the cracks. She climbed the two steps to the porch and opened the door.

  “Opa.” She called softly. She walked into the kitchen. “Opa?” She called again.

  “Where are you?” She flipped on the flashlight in her pocket.

  She turned and walked into the first bedroom. “Opa?” Nothing. She walked to the other room and swung the door open. He was standing over the bed with his back to her. She could see Dottie’s outline under the blanket.

  “Opa? Is everything ok?” She asked.

  He shifted and raised his head.

  “Opa?”

  The face turned towards her. The ashen purple skin had deep blue veins that stood out like lines on a map. The white stubble around the mouth was tinged with red and fresh blood dripped from the corners of its lips. It bared its mouth and she could see bits of flesh, Dottie’s flesh, swimming in its teeth. The horror of the thing in front of her made her step back, the realization of the truth made her scream.

  The thing turned towards her as she fell back into the hallway. It threw itself forward as she tried to shut the door. It slammed against the door and fell into the hallway at her feet. She scrambled into the next room and dove behind the couch. She peeked around the corner and could see the flashlight shining from the where she dropped it. The shadow of the thing that had been her grandfather cast against the far wall and she watched as it slowly and deliberately raised itself from the floor and came down the hallway, its shadow growing larger with each step. She unslung the rifle and worked the action. Martin had made her practice over and over to make sure she could do it without thinking. She flipped the safety off and waited.

  The creature came down the hallway into the room. She raised the rifle, but the shadows cast by the flashlight made it difficult for her to be sure what she was shooting. Before she could pull the trigger, the thing leapt towards the other end of the couch. She scrambled away from it as it tried to reach for her. She screamed again and got to her knees. Ham crawled out of the room and turned towards the flashlight. She got her feet under her and grabbed the flashlight. The beam of light cast down the hall as the thing rounded the corner. She dove back into Dottie’s room. The thing slammed against the walls as it found its way after her. She jumped over Dottie and went down between the bed and wall. The thing tried to follow but fell off the end of the bed. She scrambled into the corner and shined the light. She kicked her feet at the thing as it crawled around the end of the bed. It grabbed at her. She screamed as she pulled the rifle up again.

  “Stop Opa stop. Please. Please.” She pulled the trigger.

  The flash of the shot played out in her eye in slow motion. She saw the force of the bullet punch into the thing's forehead and explode as it exited out the back. The thing collapsed at her feet. She screamed again. Then the tears came.

  “Oh, Opa. Why? Why?” She sat in the corner and cried.

  Her hand reached out and softly stroked his hair. She slowly stood, shining the light down at him. The sound of movement made her shift the beam of the flashlight to the bed and onto Dottie. The light traced the mangled flesh just below her chin. As the light crossed Dottie’s face, her eyes popped open revealing their opaque haze. It struggled as it tried to sit up and reach out for her. Ham fell back against the wall and slid to the ground, the flashlight fell from her hands and the room went dark. She fumbled for the rifle. She could hear the thing moving. She tried to work the action for the next round and her hand slipped. The thing moved again. She took a breath. She worked the action again. The thing leapt. The barrel of the gun pointed up just as the thing cleared the side of the bed. BOOM. The bullet blew the top of the thing's head straight up, plastering the ceiling with bone, brains and rot. The bloody rain dripped back down onto Ham as she sat in the darkness and screamed.

  The moon shone in through the big bay window in the living room as Jahda leaned against the wall gazing through the glass. The gunshot sounded like it was right outside. She scrambled out the door and saw the momentary flash of light in the house next door just as the second shot rang out. Then she heard the scream. She ran. She opened the door and followed the sound of screams to the back of the house. Ham was sitting in the corner. Her eyes shined white in the moonlight as the blood ran down her face and covered her neck. The remains of Dottie were draped off the bed and the part of her head that was still intact rested in Ham’s lap. The rest dripped from the ceiling. Jahda’s foot hit something as she started towards her and realized there was another body on the floor. She looked down and saw the white hair with a large black hole lying face down beside the wall. She looked at Ham.

  “Oh baby girl. I’m here, I’m here.” She stuck out her arms.

  Ham slowly stood. She lowered her chin and looked down at the back of Martin’s head. She dropped the rifle, stepped over his body and collapsed into Jahda’s arms.

  9

  Too Far to Turn Around

  The moonlight flickered between the leaves as the wind gently swayed the trees. The sound of cicadas tried to drown out the chirp of the frogs. The others could see the flashlight bouncing around inside the house. Jahda had told Kate what she found. Bridger came out of the house holding the flashlight.

  “It’s them.” He said.

  “Dear God.” Kate said as she brought her hand to her mouth.

  “It looks like he turned. She did too but I think he went first.” Bridger said.

  “Why?” Charlie asked.

  “Well, she’s torn up. He doesn’t have a mark on him. Well, he has one. But it’s from a bullet, not a bite.” He said.

  “No bites at all?” Jennifer asked.

  “Nope. I think he just died. Stroke, heart attack, who knows?” Bridger said.

  “And you think he attacked Dottie?” Evelyn asked.

  “That would be my guess.”

  In the house next door, Devin sat against the wall beside Jahda. Ham lay on the couch, her hair still wet from Jahda helping her wash off. She had sat in the bathtub without saying a word as Jahda poured water over her head to get the blood and bone out of her hair. She didn’t say a word as Jahda helped her towel off and get dressed in some clean clothes from the dresser in the back bedroom. She lay silent as the moon slowly dipped behind the trees through the big window. The light reflected off the tears that rolled down all of their cheeks. As the sky began to surrender the darkness and the stars began to recede, Ham sat up on the couch. Jahda looked over at her.

  “You want something sweetheart?”

  Ham just shook her head. She turned and lay down with her face towards the back of the couch. Jahda moved over and sat down on the floor beside her and stroked her hair.

  Devin stood and touched them both on the back of the head. He turned and walked through the living room and out the f
ront door. The others were still standing in the yard. Lori and Josh were sitting on the porch. Lori stood when Devin emerged and just wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Josh put a hand on his shoulder.

  “He was a good man. I know y’all went through a lot together.” Josh said.

  “We did. You and Lori, he was so glad we met y’all.”

  “How’s she doing?” Lori asked.

  “She’s broken. Bad. But she’s tough. Toughest kid I ever met.” He said.

  The sun crept over the trees in the distance and the first orange rays of morning came through the window. A ray of light fell across the chair and Emma Grace raised her head and yawned. She stood and closed the curtain. Cody sat against the pillow picking at the bandage that covered the end of his arm.

  “Stop that.” She said.

  “It’s weird.” He said.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No that’s the weird part. I touch it and can’t feel nothing but I swear I am flexing my hand right now.” He said.

  “But no pain.”

  “Not really, why do you keep asking?”

  “Because that doctor said they were going to get you something for pain but I haven’t seen anyone yet.” Emma Grace said.

  “Are you afraid to go ask them?” Cody smirked.

  Emma Grace stood and walked out of the room. She opened the front door and looked down the long driveway to the street. Everyone that arrived yesterday was standing in the yard across the way. She walked across the yard and saw Vernon standing at by the road. She approached him.

  “What’s going on?” She asked.

  “A couple of the new folks. Something happened. They turned.”

  “Who?”

  “Not sure.”

  Emma Grace scanned the faces and across the yard she saw Devin. He was on the porch. She walked over to him.

  “What happened?” She could see the red-rimmed eyes.

  “Martin’s gone. Dottie too.” He choked out.

  She didn’t know who Martin and Dottie were but she looked around the crowd and didn’t see the white haired man she had seen earlier. She figured that was Martin. She assumed the old lady they had carted into the Baker’s house was Dottie. As if on cue the door to the Baker’s house swung open.

  They had wrapped Dottie in the blanket from the bed and Charlie was holding her ankles as he and Bridger carried her out of the house. They went back inside and wrapped Martin in one of the sheets and brought him out next. They placed them in the bed of the truck.

  “Are you sure?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes.” Kate answered. “Take them to the church.”

  Charlie and Scott climbed into the cab. Ed, Vernon and Violet jumped into the bed. The truck pulled away from the curb. Emma Grace looked around at the rest of the faces and realized that except for the little girl and Jahda, everyone else was here or in the truck. It dawned on her that no one had gone to get anything for Cody and looking at the blood covered bedding holding two bodies drive away in the truck, she imagined no one would be going anytime soon. She pursed her lips and squeezed Devin’s shoulder. He laid his hand on top of hers.

  “I’m sorry about your friends. I have to go take care of Cody now.” She said.

  Devin just squeezed her hand and nodded his head. As she walked back towards her house, she looked over her shoulder. No one was paying any attention to her. She turned and walked into the back yard, turning past the little shack and heading towards the creek. She could follow the creek to the edge of the barricade and then it was just a short climb over and an easy walk to the MedClinic.

  Bridger walked down the street as the truck pulled away. He watched the tips of his boots move back and forth and listened to the steady sound of his footsteps. The sound of footsteps coming up behind him broke the trance.

  “Bridger.” Evelyn called. “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “Somewhere to drink this.” He held up one of the bottles Lori had swiped from the big house.

  He turned onto the porch of the first house he came too and without breaking stride drove his foot against the lock and kicked the door open. It slammed against the inside wall like a rifle shot. Evelyn paused as he disappeared inside the house. Turning his head left and right, he went from room to room until he found the kitchen at the back of the house. He opened one of the cabinets and grabbed a glass. It was an old jelly jar with cartoon characters on it. He briefly thought of his grandmother and the Saturday morning cartoons from his childhood. She would give him juice in a glass like this. Thoughts of her made him think of Dottie. He spun the top off the bottle and set the glass on the table. He poured it full.

  He sat down and put the glass to his lips as Evelyn walked through the door.

  “So what’s this?”

  “I screwed up.” Bridger said. “I screwed up big time.”

  “How?”

  “All of this, I shouldn’t have pushed to come here. It’s my fault.”

  “Dottie had cancer, not your fault. Martin could have happened no matter where we were.”

  “I stressed them. I put pressure on everyone.”

  “Stress? Pressure? You’re kidding right. The other night, while you were here, we had hundreds of deaduns show up. Hundreds. That’s pressure, that’s stress. We all came through that so pretty sure driving down the road wasn’t the most stressful thing of their week.” Evelyn said as she sat down beside him. “This isn’t a burden you need to carry. None of us do. We all know what the world is like now. No one has to carry that alone. We work together, we live together and we die together trying to make things better. That’s all we can do. That’s what you did. You tried to make things better and even with what happened, things will get better.”

  He circled the rim of the glass with his finger and looked up at her. He managed a half smile.

  “You’re pretty good at that you know.” Bridger said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Calling bullshit.”

  “I try.”

  “I’m still going to have a drink.”

  “I think I’ll join you.” She stood and grabbed another glass from the cabinet and sat it down on the table. He poured.

  Emma Grace stood beside the soda machine under the eave of the gas station. Icy condensation dripped down the curved glass of the bottle in the image and she wondered if the machine still had drinks inside. The goner shuffling down the street had finally caught her scent. It had followed her for two blocks and now there were three more with it. She wasn’t afraid of them. She just didn’t want to be leading a parade of the dead at the moment. She crossed the street and stepped up on the curb. She walked through the parking lot in front of the clinic. It was mostly empty. Two or three cars and a small van sat covered in grime at the entrance. Her heart sank when she saw the door standing open. She stepped inside. The light filtered through the tinted windows and cast shadows about the room. To her right she could see a door with a restroom symbol over it and next to it another door marked patients. Next to it was a little window, like a bank. The sign said dispensary. She leaned her head against the window and looked into the room beyond. The shelves were still lined with bottles and she could see a door on the far side. She stood and turned. The goners had found their way inside and were milling around the waiting room. She walked over to the closest one.

  “What are you here for today? Feeling a little sick?” She said. The thing paused and turned towards her. It stood still with a vacant expression on its face and rot dripping from the corner of its mouth.

  “Not much has changed in this place I guess.” She smiled. “You all look stoned out of your minds.”

  She walked over to the door marked patients and swung it open.

  “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

  As she walked through the door and it shut behind her, she could hear the goners banging against it as they tried to follow. A sign hanging over the last door in the short hallway read pharmacy. She ducked inside and looke
d over the shelves. Large bottles lined the top shelf with smaller bottles below. There were several empty slots and she hoped that what she needed was still here. She didn’t know for sure what that was, so she decided to take all she could. Surely something could help. She looked around the room for something to put things in and had an idea. She walked back out into the waiting room and searched the crowd of dead.

  She realized that another goner had followed her inside. It was different. It reminded her more of the one from the other night. Skin like jerky and slightly crouched. Its eyes shone yellow against the low light in the room. It approached her slowly and stopped just before reaching her. She looked it over and shrugged her shoulders. She peered around and spotted what she came for. One of the goners was wearing a backpack. She walked over and stood in front of it. It stopped. She slowly reached up and slid one of the straps off. She walked around behind it and pulled the backpack towards her. The things arm was still looped through one of the straps as she jerked it towards her. The thing spun and its hand raked against her arm, drawing blood. She looked down at it and punched the thing in the chest.

  “Ow.”

  The new goner rushed by her before she realized what was happening. It grabbed the goner she punched and sunk its teeth into its neck, taking it briefly to the ground before standing up and walking away. The goner on the ground squirmed for another minute then slowly rose from the floor with a large chunk of flesh missing from the side of its neck. Both goners moved around the room with the others, as though nothing had happened.

  Emma Grace stood wide-eyed with backpack pressed against her chest watching. She shook her head a couple of times and went back through the door. After loading as many different bottles into the backpack as she could, she came back through the door. The goners were all standing in the shadows of the room waiting for her. She half expected them to yell surprise. As she left the darkness of the building the sudden sunlight briefly blinded her. She raised her hand to shield her eyes and she saw a man sitting on a motorcycle by the curb. She hadn’t heard him pull up.