Deadies: Book 1, 2 & 3

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Deadies: Book 1, 2 & 3 Page 12

by Krystell Lake


  “We did but we survived.”

  “That we did.” He shook his head in agreement.

  “Doctor could you come up to the attic with me?” I politely asked.

  “Sure, what’s up?

  “I’ll tell you upstairs.”

  “Now?” He smiled. Why was he so happy? I understood why. His family was here in this house all together and that was more than any of us had.

  He followed me and I was sure he was staring at my ass the entire time. That’s the kind of man he is. Too bad either Nick or Joe will wipe that smile off his mug in a few seconds.

  The doctor and I went into the attic. He looked surprised to see Nick and Joe. What did he think would happen up here?

  I took a seat back in the dunce chair, crossed my arms under my chest and prepared for the worst.

  “Doc I don’t want to bullshit you so I’m going to come right out and say what I got to say.” Nick was taking the direct approach. “Joan has been bitten. She is infected.”

  Nick laid it out plain and simple. The smile was wiped from the doctor’s face.

  “Are you sure?” Doctor Mark asked as he glanced over at Joe standing stoic in the corner.

  Nick took a step forward and gave Doctor Mark direct eye contact. “I’m sorry. I saw the bite on her arm with my own eyes. She definitely is infected.”

  “How?” Doc asked.

  “Must have happened yesterday when we were running from the house.” Nick delicately added.

  “Shit!” Doctor Mark turns his back on us and begins to leisurely pace the attic floor just as Nick has done many times before.

  “Mark, she has the symptoms, the fever. It’s been hours. She’s turning very slowly but we have to do something before she turns into one of them.” Nick informed Doctor Mark.

  Doctor Mark turned back to face us. “Do something, like what? Kill her?”

  “I know this is hard to hear but she puts the entire group in jeopardy. She puts your son and your daughter at risk.” Nick was sincere in his rationale. “She could’ve turned in the middle of the night.”

  “What do you want me to do?” He mumbled through gritted teeth.

  “Everyone in this room, we are the only ones that know about Joan. I think we should keep it that way. My best guess is that she will probably turn in a less than a day.”

  “I don’t want my kids to see her turn into a monster.” Doctor Mark stated.

  “We don’t want that either. We have to isolate her, lure her out the house.”

  “Then what?” Doctor Mark motioned with his hands.

  “That’s up it you. You can take her far out and wait until she turns and shoot her or if you can’t do that you can just let her roam out there as one of them. It’s your choice. She’s your ex-wife.”

  I was surprised that Nick had come up with ideas so quickly to rectify the situation.

  “My choice, two fucked up choices.” Doctor Mark closes his eyes and shakes off his inner anguish.

  “Doc, tough times, tough decisions. We’re not in this alone.” Nick places his hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “We’ll go with you when you take her out. We’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

  I was nice to see Nick was channeling his softer side. He is the same man that said he would blow any of our brains out if we were infected. I’m glad he is giving Doctor Mark a choice.

  I don’t envy Doc. This is a hard decision to make but I truly wish that he makes the right one. I don’t know Joan well but who the hell wants to be a flesh eating deadie?

  “I need time to think about it. When do we leave?” Doctor Mark directed his question to Nick.

  “As soon as possible, Joan’s fever is burning her up inside.” Nick said. “Twenty minutes.”

  CHAPTER 12

  It took us a little longer than twenty minutes to leave our place of refuge. We devised a ruse to get Joan out of the house. Actually Nick and Joe came up with the ploy. Doctor Mark and I sat by quietly and listened to our instructions which were minimal for me. I hope I’m able to pull off this level of deception.

  I assumed the doctor would have refused this entire idea, ranted, raved or threw one of his legendary fits. He did the opposite of what I expected. Doctor Mark just sat in the chair next to me, defeated, confused and sad. He looked like he had been sucker punched and I guess that is pretty much what happened.

  The plan was simply enough. We all were going out to scout a suitable safer place to move the group. Joan would ride with her ex-husband in the Escalade and we three would take the Camaro. We weren’t really going to be scouting new locations of course. We were going to a secluded place in Aurora where there used to be illegal underground cage fights. Nick had been there before. Cage fighting? Seriously? I learn something new about my guy every day.

  The place was about thirty-five minutes from the Eola post office. We all pretty much rode in silence as Nick drove us to this mystery place. This would not be easy to witness. That was a guarantee. I’m not at all sure how this is even going to go down.

  How do you tell someone that you know they are going to die? That you will kill them or worse that you will let them roam the world as a rotting flesh-eating monster.

  We arrived at the low rent fight club and it was scary enough but more so creepy. It was an old underground parking garage. Good thing for us the garage was lit by fluorescent lighting. I wonder what will happen when the lights bulbs burn out. There were a few abandoned vehicles left in random spaces. I looked out the window as we rode. I stared in and around the deserted cars watching for deadies but we were moving too fast for me to get a good look.

  We pulled into the garage and drove a ways back to what was a dead end. The end came to a concrete wall with a gate that extended from the cement ground to the concrete ceiling. We pulled up to the gate and Doctor Mark pulled beside us in the Escalade.

  I sat in the backseat and wondered how the hell we were going to get inside if that was where we were headed.

  Nick turned off the car’s ignition and turned to face me. “You ready for this?” He asked.

  Hell no, I’m not ready. “Yeah, I’m ready.” I lied.

  Nick reached his arm from the front driver’s seat to the floor of the passenger seat and grabbed the bolt cutters that I had forgot were under my feet.

  “Let’s do this.” Nick announced as we all went to exit the Camaro.

  The door of the Escalade opened and I refused to look over at Doctor Mark and Joan. This little deadie intervention was too much for me.

  All experiences in the new world were strange beyond belief but this was at the top of the list. In the back of my mind I hope Joan just has the flu. Even though I know she doesn’t there’s a piece of me that wishes I was wrong. Joan was flushed. Her face was perspiring. She had a fever, not just any fever. She had the deadie fever.

  The doctor and his ex-wife walked behind us as we approached the iron barred gate. Nick had handed the bolt cutters over to Joe. My eyes were scanning the area for surprise deadies. I probably should keep both eyes on Joan. I have never seen anyone transform.

  There was a whole lot of clinging and clanging while Joe wrestled with the lock. Joan caught my eye and smiled at me. I forged a smile to her in return and I instantly felt like a huge pile a dog shit. Joe finally opened the gates and we all marched in like it was just another day.

  Joan was still wearing that ugly brown cardigan. She had her hand holding the spot where she was bitten. Her long thin fingers were wrapped gently around her fatal injury. I wonder if the bite hurts. Stupid thought, I’m sure any bite would hurt. This place was too eerie to be considered a safe place. Soon enough Joan would not only figure this out but she would probably become vocal about it. I so don’t look forward to that time when it comes. I predict it in zero to five minutes.

  After walking in silence for what seemed like forever Nick opened a rusty metal utility box in a wall. He reached in a hit a few switches that brought the lights up to a point below bright
but above dim. We walked into a cage. It was actually a very high fence that was in the shape of a hexagon. There was and opening that was accessible.

  We were right in the middle of where the fights took place. There were dried blood stains in the cement floor. There was a green water hose at the side of the makeshift stage. Wonder why no one hosed the place down? There were a few backless wooden benches around the improvised stage.

  We were standing around in dense silence. I was waiting for someone to have the courage to speak first. Joe took a seat on a bench. He rubbed his bald head with both hands. Why was I watching him so closely? A distraction, he is a character, anything to keep my eyes off withering Joan.

  “Mark what are we doing here? This place is not safe.” Joan was the silence breaker.

  The doctor was mute, dormant, stagnant, stationary and just plan ole invisible man.

  “Mark!” Joan’s raised voice was not at all raised. “What is going on?”

  “Joan, I know.” The doctor mumbled. I barely could hear him.

  “Know what?” Joan tried to force a smile on her emaciated face.

  “I know that you’re infected.”

  “Infected, what are you crazy? I just have the flu.” Joan looks at me and Nick then back at Doctor Mark. I do not envy him.

  “I hope you have the flu.” Doctor Mark was lying. Any idiot could hear it in his tone.

  “So what is this? You bring me here to kill me?”

  “No dear, I brought you here to save Brandon and Kait.”

  “How completely noble, so unlike you, you selfish bastard.” Joan bellowed out an old man’s cough that burst loud and clear from her lungs.

  “I deserve that.” The doctor ran his hands through his thick dark hair. “I was selfish when we were married and I’m really sorry.” Sincerity leapt from his voice and caught us all off guard.

  “Mark Vincenzo Ruffalo, I don’t believe you.”

  “You were too good for me. I didn’t give you any of the things I promised. You were with me when I didn’t have shit. My ego and the money ruined our marriage.”

  “Don’t forget the other women.” Joan’s voiced quaked as she recalled the doctor’s past infidelities.

  “Yeah that too. I want you to know that I loved you. I never stopped loving you.”

  “You pick now to lie to me.”

  “No, Joan listen. I gave you a hard time with the divorce just so I could see you in court. I only got married because you did. That’s why I would never step foot in your house. I was still mad. I was still in love with you. I was a pompous arrogant coward and when you needed me I wasn’t there for you but you need me now and I am here.”

  This was a soap opera played out right in front of us and our eyes were glued to the flat screen.

  Tears pooled in Joan’s eyes, ran freely down her cheeks and got mangled in the sweat from the fever. Without any warning or notice she collapsed, her knees give way and she fell to the ground hard but with a certain undeniable grace. We all raced over to her but Doctor Mark was the first to reach her. He cradled her in his lap and if Joan wasn’t so sickly, brittle and weak this picture would have resembled a page out of a fairytale book.

  Joan’s dark eyelids fluttered, a tiny muffled voice crept from her sternum. “Promise you’ll take care of Brandon.”

  “Yes of course.” Doctor Mark assured her.

  Joan’s eyes shifted toward me, Nick and Joe. “I’m sorry.” She said and it was barely audible. I don’t know this woman but this is beyond sad. Why is she telling us she’s sorry? Although I would never bring it up maybe she was infected simply because Doctor Mark had us searching the wrong house. The gunshots alerted the deadies to our presence and that is probably why Joan was bitten. She has absolutely nothing to be sorry about.

  My feelings of sympathy for Doctor Mark have suddenly turned into quiet rage. This tragedy is his fault. It’s his fault she was attacked. It’s his fault she will die. It’s his fault his son has lost his mother. Maybe this was inevitable. Maybe I just need someone to blame.

  Joan’s eyes rolled back in her head. Her haggard body had fallen lifeless and limp. It’s clear that she is dead. She looks to be a totally different person then the one that breathed stale fight club air just a moment ago. Her body is decomposing as we watch. It’s a hideous transformation. It’s far too awful to describe, much too hideous to witness and to unbelievable to believe.

  “Doc let her go.” Nick whispers softly as the day turns to night.

  Doctor Mark slowly places Joan’s head down on the cement floor. With one swift motion he brushes her hair away from her face. What was once a vibrant, radiant raven mane has become the brittle thin hair of an old corpse.

  The doctor stood and hovered over the lifeless body of his ex-wife.

  Nick is the first to step closer to the odd intimate connection. “Doc, what do you want to do?”

  “This isn’t the flu. She is turning into one of them.” Doctor Mark finally admitted aloud what was obvious all along. “I know what I have to do. She can’t live like a monster.”

  “Okay, so…” Nick pushed further.

  “I will kill her.” Doctor Mark said without a smidgen of emotion in his voice that I could detect. He was doing an excellent job of mimicking Joe. It didn’t matter; finally he said it and a cool sense of relief washed over me.

  “You don’t have to do it.” Nick added. He was always proving himself to be braver than I thought.

  “No, I do.” Doctor Mark’s eyes floated down to Joan’s lifeless body. “It’s my responsibility.”

  Yeah it is! You asshole! Damn I was pissed and I know I shouldn’t be pissed but we’re in this situation that is hopeless and there is nothing to fix it. It sucks and I don’t know where to direct my anger.

  We are all startled by a moan, that all too familiar moan, the moan of a deadie. There was one guttural moan that was followed by a rapid succession of additional moans. They grew louder and louder, deeper and deeper and without warning Joan’s eyes popped open. Her beautiful brown eyes were replaced with the milky glazed cataract with specs of crimson. The specs resembled red candy sprinkles on the white frosting of a Valentine’s Day cupcake.

  “Doc.” Nick commanded and Doctor Mark looked over at Nick. Nick was offering his Magnum to the doctor. The doctor looked down at the Magnum and took it slowly into the palm if his hand.

  Joe removed his handgun from his waistband before I could remove mine. Joe held his at the ready and I just palmed mine. I knew that if Doctor Mark missed Joe would take care of it, her, Joan. But I couldn’t help but caress my gun. It’s better to be ready than a deadie. I guess today is not the best time for rhymes but I dated a rapper and no matter how hard I try to push my pre-apocalyptic life from my mind every now and then it seeps back in.

  The creepy gross factor was on overload. Joan’s guttural moans were gradually increasing. Out of nowhere, her new deadie’s body levitated to a sitting position abnormally. That foreign movement made her appear to be a gruesome marionette controlled by a mad puppeteer.

  There was fearlessness in all four of us. We watched as dead Joan drooled and a black slimy liquid bled from the corner of her mouth and took residence on her boney chin. Her eyes bulged, bugged out like a mutated house fly. The remnant of a cornea was hidden under the milky haze in her eyes. Her new eyes darted around from one of us and then to another. She was salivating. Her hollowed nose sniffed the stale night air. She could smell our blood, maybe she smelled our flesh. Please kill me if I ever turn into one of these dead things.

  When the new dead Joan went to stand, it was a slow and obviously difficult endeavor for her to undertake. We all didn’t bother to budge from our defensive postures. This was major league football. As soon as someone called the play we would all tackle her with bullets if need be. That’s what this new world does to you. It makes you violent, hostile and dead inside.

  “Can you do this?” Joe spoke as he pointed his gun at dead, almost standing Joan
.

  Doctor Mark didn’t bother to answer. He just took one step forward, raised the Magnum in his trembling hand and… BLAM!

  Dead Joan was no more. She was close enough that Doctor Mark could aim right for the center of her forehead and make a perfect bull’s-eye shot. That is exactly what happened. It was a perfect painless mercy killing.

  As the doctor handed the smoking gun over to Nick I could vaguely hear a sniffling whimper. Oh shit it was Doctor Mark. He was crying and trying to hold it in. What will he say to his son?

  I had been holding my breath the entire time. I exhaled when I became aware of this. I rushed to the doctor and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He buried his face in my neck as I patted his back. I hoped he wouldn’t collapse in my arms. There was no way I could keep him up on his feet. One moment I was furious with him. Then I felt a wave of sympathy for him. He shot the woman he loves in the face.

  In that moment I realized I would have made a good wife and mother if this crappy zombie apocalypse wouldn’t have happened.

  “You did the right thing.” Nick reassured the doctor. “What do you want to do with her body?”

  The doctor pulled away from me. “I don’t want to leave her here.”

  “We can take Joan and give her a proper burial. I know where there’s a cemetery. My mother is buried there. We can bury Joan there, if that’s okay?” Nick offered. It amazes me how a sinner and a saint can take up resident in one perfect body.

  “Yes that’s what I want.” The doctor mumbled through his restrained sobs.

  “Joe and I will put Joan in the Camaro. Jesse, you take Doc back to the truck.”

  I nodded at my instructor and I patted Doctor Mark on the back and led him back through the underground garage. I turned back and saw Joe and Nick wrapping Joan’s body in a bed sheet that I didn’t know they had. They were more prepared for this then I was. These guys are more capable then I thought. I truly love Nick. Joe is like some weird step-brother that is a constant pain in my ass.

  When the doctor and I made it to the truck I got in the driver’s seat and he got in the passenger seat. It only took a few minutes for Nick and Joe to show up with Joan’s body. I didn’t bother to look at her wrapped in the bed sheet. I just waited until I heard the trunk of the old Camaro slam shut.

 

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