Marionette Zombie Series (Book 8): Harvest of the Dead

by Poe, S. B.

  “They killed him for it?” Vernon stopped.

  “No, Russell had it coming. That’s for sure. He went after Red. Tried to have his way with her. Said he had a plan for her. Crazy shit. Scary shit. Hell I was probably a day or two away from waking up with my throat cut anyways. I was glad they did it. They didn’t know about his place but I told them right away. That’s probably what kept them from just chucking me away. But none of em blinked an eye about Red killing Russell.” Ed said. They started walking again. “They good folks but they ain’t soft folks. Hell you saw Bridger clock Cody out at his farm. And trust me, he coulda done worse. I seen him tear into half a dozen deaduns with a crowbar and a bad attitude. These folks don’t take no shit. Especially Bridger and Red.”

  “So that’s why you hooked up with them, why’d they hook up with you?” Vernon asked, he would have to wait for the answer.

  Long before the world ended, even before Weaver Mill shut down the town of Collier had taken an interest in the unincorporated area off Cooley Road. It was land owned by small stakeholders a few generations removed from sharecropping. Some of the houses had been abandoned in the twenties and thirties and were almost completely swallowed up by the surrounding land. The land itself passed from generation to generation getting sold and divided into smaller and smaller parcels until all it can hold is a trailer and a small driveway. Lots like that lined Cooley Road. The good people of Collier didn’t like looking at the trailers with the dilapidated houses falling in behind them. They couldn’t legally do anything so they just tried to hide it away. They had the county plant boxwood hedges all along the roadway to block the view. The only breaks were where the gravel driveways met the road. Twenty years later those boxwoods were ten feet tall and five foot thick. Ed walked past the dented mailbox and turned between the hedges. He froze and stuck his hand out behind him to get Vernon’s attention.

  “Stop.” He said in a harsh whisper. He took a few steps backwards towards Vernon, never taking his eyes off the other side of the hedge.

  “Deaduns.” Ed said as they back away a few more feet. “At least two. Almost walked right up on em too. Damn.”

  “So now what?” Vernon asked

  “I ain’t sure. Got any ideas?” Ed asked.

  “Well, we could just go back.” Vernon said.

  “I really would like to get into my house. You know, sentimentally.” Ed said.

  “Ma Willie?”

  “Ma Willie.” Ed said.

  “Well we could do what me and Cody would do to catch em.”

  “I ain’t wantin to catch em. I’ll be perfectly fine with them just being dead dead.”

  “Well that’ll probably make it easier anyway. Won’t have to worry about throwing the bag over their head while they’re biting at you like some rabid dog.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “Well okay then, what’s the plan?” Ed asked.

  “You wanna be the womper or the bait?” Vernon asked.

  “Sorry?” Ed looked at him.

  “We lure em out one at a time and womp em in the head.” Vernon said. “They’re slow and like I said, not too bright. So womper or bait?”

  “Which were you when you and Cody did this?” Ed asked.

  “We didn’t have a womper, we had a catcher. That was me.”

  “Womping them’s easier right?” Ed asked.

  “Should be. Especially with this.” Vernon lifted the fireaxe he snatched from the front seat of the pumper truck before following Ed across the bridge.

  “Then I’ll be the bait.” Ed said. “So how do we do this?”

  Vernon and Ed snuck up to the edge of the gravel. Vernon slowly peaked around. There were two goners standing just on the other side of the hedge. He could hear their ragged groans. They crept back away from the opening and Vernon explained to Ed what they needed to do.

  “Just get one of them to make eye contact. If they both come after you, you may have to jog around a little.” Vernon said.

  “Jog around a little?”

  “Yeah, they’re slow so if you just kinda trot around they won’t be able to catch you. I can only womp one at a time so you if they both come after you, you’ll have to keep moving til I can get the second one.”

  “So try to get just one at a time if I can? Got it.” Ed said. “You ready?”

  Vernon and Ed crept up to the opening in the hedges, keeping low in case there was a thin spot in the leaves. Vernon stopped and hefted the axe to the ready.

  “Okay.” Vernon said.

  Ed crept forward a few more steps. He leaned his head around the hedge and saw the two deaduns. One was standing under a rusted swing set in the neighbor’s lot. The other stood in the middle of the gravel drive leading to his home. He glanced at the steps and noticed they had come loose and was half hanging below the door. That would make getting in a little harder. He hoped it wasn’t as bad as it looked when he got there but he still the dead to deal with. The closest one was looking away but the one under the swing set was almost looking right at him. He stepped from behind the hedge and clapped his hands together one time. The nearest one’s head turned sharply. It’s body twisted at the waist following the head. Finally the legs jerked awkwardly around to face him. It stumbled forward as it let loose a ragged groan. The one under the swing started towards him too but was several yards behind. He turned and walked briskly past Vernon.

  “Two. One’s right behind me the other one’s catching up.” Ed said as he passed by.

  Vernon raised the axe up, gripping it chest high with both hands, and waited. Ed turned around and walked backwards a few more steps and stopped.

  “Keep going.” Vernon whispered just as the deadun cleared the hedge. The thing heard Vernon’s voice just as it passed by and paused. It’s head whipped towards the sound and Vernon’s eyes grew wide as it turned towards him. He stepped forward, raising his weapon above his head, and swung. The axe landed where the forehead began to curve into the top of the head and split a gash down between the eyes and the top of the nose. The resulting rapid opening of the skull sent a spray back over the top of the axe, covering the top half of Vernon in an oily slime of decaying rot. Ed watched the thing drop to the ground quickly followed by the axe. He looked up and Vernon was furiously wiping at his face with his hands, even pulling the front of his shirt out of his pants to use as a rag. That only resulted in adding the rot sprayed across the shirt to the rot already on his face. The second deadun came through the opening in the hedges a few feet away. The commotion drew its attention. Ed sprung forward, pulling his machete from his belt.

  “LOOK OUT.” Ed yelled.

  Vernon blinked his eyes and froze. The goner was no more than three feet away and coming towards him. Vernon glanced down at the axe just as the thing stepped over it and closer to him. It paused less than a foot from his face. The thing lifted its nostrils slightly and sniffed the air. It’s eyes turned back towards Vernon and it started to turn away. Ed drove the machete into the side of the things head. It penetrated just behind the ear and cut through the soft part of the skull but no pop. It turned and Ed lost his grip on the machete. The thing took a half step towards Ed, machete still stuck in the side of its head. Vernon took a running start and slammed into the goner like he was back playing Friday night football. He knocked the thing off its feet and when its head hit the ground the machete drove deeper into its skull. Pop.

  Ed used the toe of his boot to roll the deadun over. He put his foot on the side of its head and pulled the machete out. Vernon reached up and scooped the rot away from his eyes.

  “Little help man?” Vernon said.

  “Hey, just pick up that axe and come on.” Ed said as he started towards the hedge again.

  “Come on man help me get this off.” Vernon asked.

  “Grab the axe and come on. We can get some towels or something in the house. I don’t want to wait around for more of them things to show up.”

  “Alright man, b
ut let’s hurry. This stuff stinks.” Vernon said.

  They hurried to the broken stairs. Vernon got down on all fours after they ripped the stairs away. Ed stood on his back and pried the door open. He hopped inside and helped Vernon up into the house with him. They closed the door and Ed looked around at the home he hadn’t seen in almost a year.

  “Where’s the towel?” Vernon asked.

  “Yeah, give me just a second.” Ed said. He walked over to the little kitchen and pulled open one of the drawers. He grabbed the dishtowel and tossed it to Vernon.

  “Wipe your face, I’ll find some more.” Ed said as he disappeared down the hallway.

  Ed came back into the living room and tossed two more towels at Vernon. He dropped a bundle of clothes on the corner of the couch.

  “Here. Something might fit.” Ed said as he turned around.

  “Where you going?” Vernon asked.

  “Just gonna give you a little privacy. I’ll be back here in my room, looking for stuff.”

  “Pictures?”

  “Yeah, pictures.” Ed said.

  Vernon pulled his shirt over his head and wiped as much of the rot out of his hair as he could with it before tossing it into the corner. He grabbed the first towel and wiped most of the rot off his face, neck and arms. By the time he wiped his head with the second towel most of the rot was off. He rummaged through the pile of clothes and found a long sleeve t-shirt that fit best. He pulled it on. When the neck cleared his nose he paused. He sniffed the air.

  He walked down the hallway following the scent in his nose. The door to the first room on his left was open and he stuck his head in. The smell wasn’t coming from in there. He walked the few steps to the closed door at the end of the hall. He leaned his face against it. The smell was definitely coming from behind that door. He grabbed the handle and pushed it open.

  “Wanna hit?” Ed sat up in the chair and held the burning joint towards Vernon.

  “You’re a lying sack of shit.” Vernon said.

  “Yeah, I told you not to come. Come on man, the world don’t care, why should you?” Ed said as he leaned back in his chair. “Gotta relax sometime, at least for a couple of hours.”

  Vernon stood at the door for another minute looking at him. He had a point.

  “Give me that shit.” Vernon said as he sat down on the corner of the bed.

  The sun had climbed one side of the sky and had started down the other side. Vernon leaned back on the couch. His head lolled to the side and he caught Ed sitting in the chair looking at him.

  “So this is why we came all the way out here, huh?” He said as his head flopped forward. He shook it and lifted his eyebrows to try and open his lids wider.

  “You complaining?” Ed smiled.

  “Nah, this shit’s not bad for sitting in a shoebox for almost a year.” Vernon said.

  “Just dried out a bit but all good.” Ed said as he shook the baggie in his hand.

  “Is there anything to eat?” Vernon said as he stood off the couch. He wobbled slightly.

  “Check the cabinets. Might be something.” Ed said.

  Vernon found a couple of cans of baked beans and a can opener. Ed sat and watched Vernon scoop out the beans with his fingers and guide them into his mouth.

  “Damn, that’s fucking gross.” Ed said.

  “Naw, man, that’s fucking good.” Vernon said as he reamed the can with his finger, gathering the last of the wayward beans. He looked around and tossed the can into the corner.

  “Not a trash can man.” Ed said.

  “So is that little sack really why you came all the way out here?” Vernon asked.

  Ed stood up and walked to the corner. He picked up the can and went back towards the little kitchen. He tossed the can into the sink and swung a few of the cabinets open. He looked at the menagerie of pictures and papers stuck to the refrigerator with magnets. He flipped a couple of them up and snatched a picture of an elderly couple standing in the same kitchen he stood in now. He spun around and shook the remaining cobwebs from his head.

  “Nah, I didn’t even know it was here. I kind of remembered I might have had a stash here but I really just wanted to see the place. It’s been a long time.” Ed said.

  “Well, is it everything you remember?” Vernon asked.

  “Yeah, it is.” Ed looked around again and shut the cabinet door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Devil’s a-Watchin

  Bridger leaned one arm out the open window and draped the other over the steering wheel, as they slowly drove through the streets of Collier left outside the barricade. The houses looked the same, just emptier. The grass was thicker and the trees hung low against the eves. Everything stood in shadow. He felt better when the houses fell away and they passed the Wal-Mart and the Co-Op. He looked at the open stretch of road in front of him and glanced at the speedometer. Thirty-five. He looked over at the man in the passenger seat. Cameron faced forward, so Bridger took a moment to study his features. He was older than Bridger but not by a lot. Those few years seemed to make a good deal of difference for Cameron. He was almost completely gray headed with small pepper flecks of black scattered here and there. His beard was a gray with white hairs around the corners of his mouth. Bridger could tell he had been heavier in the not too distant past. The skin on his neck, below his ear, formed soft rolls that hung loosely. So did the skin under his chin. Cameron could feel the eyes on him and he turned.

  “So Major.”

  “Bridger. Just Bridger.”

  “Okay. So Bridger, I am anxious to hear your analysis of how this all started. Do you think it was some type of biological warfare gone wrong?” Cameron asked.

  “Does it really matter? The last time I thought about how this all started I was sitting in a bar in Nashville at nine in the morning drinking tequila. I listened to a bunch of guys throw out all kinds of theories and I realized then it didn't matter. All that mattered was figuring out how to survive. Five minutes later Kate's husband, JW, called me with a plan.” Bridger said.

  "Did it work?" Cameron asked.

  "Not perfectly, but we're still here. Let me ask you something.”

  “Sure.”

  “What’s your deal? Not trying to be too personal but what’s with the affected accent, the weaponry?”

  “Ah, I understand. First, I am not nuts. Just so you know. I have always been fascinated with early weaponry and perhaps there have been occasions that I have participated in reenactments ranging from William Wallace to Genghis Khan at various Renaissance fairs throughout the United States. It is, was, a hobby. A rather important and expensive hobby to me, but still a hobby. But it was the only real hand-to-hand type combat training I ever had, so when the world fell apart I embraced it. Completely.” Cameron continued. “It seemed almost appropriate, considering within weeks we had returned to the dark ages.”

  “Not quite.” Bridger held up the walkie. “And we’re not riding ox carts just yet.”

  “True enough.” Cameron said. “I had reverted to four legged transportation at the point I encountered your troupe. Alas, I fear we may not find my steed again.”

  “You never know.”

  “Ah, but if we did, I would entrust the beast’s care to the young girl, Ham. She was enraptured with the animal and I would so love to be able to bring a small bit a joy back into the poor girl’s heart. I barely met her grandfather but he seemed kind and it was obvious how much joy he took from her joy.”

  “Martin was a good man.” Bridger said.

  “Your entire company seems to be filled with good men, and women. How is it that you have managed to maintain a degree of cooperation that allows you to function as a unit? I mean to say, how do you keep everyone going?” Cameron asked.

  “We’ve been lucky. I don’t know if our luck is running out or not, losing Dottie and Martin the way we did, but we’ve been lucky.” Bridger said.

  “But there’s more than luck here, I was at your gates when the dead came. Your p
eople were resourceful and dedicated, a quality oft instilled rather than inherited in large groups.” Cameron said.

  “Yeah, well having the dead come back to life can be a great motivator. Trying to stay alive tends to focus the mind.” Bridger said.

  “Fascinating.” Cameron said.

  The truck rounded the next curve in the road and Bridger could see the roadblock ahead. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Josh drove the SUV and Lori sat in the front seat beside him. Evelyn’s face stuck between them as she peered from the back seat. He slowed as they approached the roadblock. Josh leaned forward over the steering wheel following the truck ahead of them through the muddy trail that snaked through the woods beside the road.