Wide-eyed he scanned the light around again, taking slow steps toward the exit as he did so. He stepped on something soft and jumped as it whistled. He nearly fired the gun as he jerked it down, and then he saw a plastic doll pinned under his foot and laughed. “Ooohh man.” He shook his head as he chuckled, and ran his hand through his hair. “I almost shot a toy.” He rested the gun on his shoulder and turned toward the exit.
He walked toward the steps leading back into the house and froze when he saw a small hand resting on the middle step. The rest of the body was concealed in darkness under the tiny stairwell which was only large enough for a child. Jackson dropped the barrel of the AK down into his palm and lit the area with the flashlight. He raised the butt of the gun to his shoulder and peered down the barrel. “Who’s there?” He crouched and moved the light from side to side, but the stairs blocked him from picking out details. He could make out a small body wearing a pink shirt and long blonde hair. “If you can talk say something, wave your hand, anything!” He looked down the sight and placed his finger on the trigger, just as the hand raised up and waved limply, then flopped back down lifelessly. Jackson gasped and quickly lowered the gun. He went around to the end of the stairs and saw a tiny set of feet tucked up inside. He shined the light in and confirmed that it was a little girl. He could see that her skin had pink tones, not the pallor of the dead, so he reached down and slid her out from the stairwell.
When the little girl’s face came into Jackson’s view, he could see that she did not bear the marks of infection, but nearly lacked all signs of life. “Can you talk? How long have you been down here?”
The girl’s voice barely registered in the human hearing range as she spoke with a raspy whisper. “My parents, where are my…?” Her head turned to the side, and her eyes squinted as her voice cut up into a gurgle.
The memory of shooting the girl’s parents, and seeing chunks of their heads fly out the back, flashed in Jackson’s mind in tones of red. He closed his eyes and looked away. Goddamn it! It’s not fare. I was protecting my family! Why am I being punished like this? I’m so sorry. “I…” He looked away biting his lip. A couple seconds later he turned back to her and inspected her skin and grimaced at the sight of her wrinkled, purple lips and bluish skin. “You’re cold huh?”
She slowly nodded, but her head barely moved.
You need a coat. Let’s get you well. Let me get some water for you okay?” He started to get up, but the little girl placed her hand on his.
In the same raspy voice, she forced her words out with wide eyes. “Don’t leave. Not alone, please. My parents went out to see about the noise, and never came back. They told me not to go out, so I didn’t.”
“You did real good sweetheart, real good. It wasn’t safe to go outside just yet.” The girl exhaled and another gargling sound came out; it lasted longer than the last and trailed off into silence. Jackson pulled her head into his chest. “I’m so sorry.” He looked at her and her eyes opened one last time then froze. He could see the life drain out, and felt her body go limp. “No!” Jackson eased her body onto the floor, and he stood up. He looked at her lifeless form for a second then raised the gun up and aimed at her head. He let his finger slide down to the trigger, closed one eye, and started to squeeze. The light rocked back and forth over her face as he trembled. After a few seconds he dropped his head and lowered the gun. It’s just not right. It’s not fair. Haven’t you done enough damage already?
Jackson looked out the basement door. His head sank between his shoulders as he blew out a long breath then exited the basement. He stopped, looked back, and swung the basement door shut just as he’d found it and walked away slowly.
✹✹✹
Outside Kathleen stared at the house with the Jeep parked in front while biting her nails. Her eyes had been fixed on the front door for over a minute. She started wringing her hands and biting her lower lip. She paced back and forth trying and craning her neck to see more of the house. Where are you? Hurry up! She started breathing heavier, and her face lost some color.
Then she jumped as she heard a crash that came from the direction of the house. Biting her nail, she looked intently at the windows but could see nothing. Finally, she threw her hands down and clenched her fists, grabbed the other gun, and walked across the street to the house following the path she had seen Jackson take around the back.
When she reached the backyard, she stopped and looked around. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she pressed on with short steps as her eyes raked over all the details. She reached the reading room and noticed that one window had all the glass neatly sheared away from the edges, and all the shards sat directly below the window. She stuck her head inside and looked around. “Jackson, are you there?” She paused when she spotted a faint, dirty footprint on the carpet and stuck her head in a little farther. “Jackson?”
✹✹✹
Jackson unlocked the front door and walked out then stopped and stared with a long face and wide eyes at the empty front porch down the street. He only saw the bags sitting where they had left them and his face went red. “Where did she go?” He ran over to the house and charged inside. “Kathleen, you here?” Charging down the hall, he raised his gun to his shoulder, threw the basement door open, and pointed the muzzle down the steps. “Kathleen! Hello? Goddammit!” He growled as he kicked the door shut and stomped out of the house.
He walked back out on the front porch scratching his head and looked around again. “Where in the hell are you?”
✹✹✹
Kathleen started to push inside the broken window, but her belly got in the way, with one glance at herself and the broken window, she shook her head and quickly backed out. “Jackson!” When nothing happened, she huffed and continued walking around the side of the house.
As she proceeded along the side wall, she heard a tapping noise, like a fingernail rapping on glass. She looked over at the next house and saw one of the women who lived in the neighborhood behind a windowpane. She stood in a basement, looking out at ground level.
The woman pointed toward the front of the house and walked away from the window. Kathleen walked toward the front and appraised the house. Everything looked normal until she stepped up to the patio and noticed that the front door hung open and had a busted frame.
As Kathleen stepped in a door opened at the other end of the room, and she saw the woman step out. She remembered talking to her at the last 4th of July block party. Her face turned up in a smile as she clasped her hands together. “Beverly? Are you okay?
Beverly’s hands came up and covered her chest. “Oh, Kathleen, am I glad to see you! You have a gun!”
Kathleen looked down and waved at it dismissively. “I thought Jackson was crazy when he bought it, but now…have you seen any other people?”
“No, have you?”
“No, well, except for the…have you seen them?”
“Yes. They broke in and almost got downstairs. We just came out to have a look around. Suddenly those things started pouring in.”
“Where’s Michael?”
“He’s downstairs, not feeling too well. One of those monsters bit him and now it looks all infected. I cleaned the wound, but it just keeps getting worse. Kathleen, it was horrible. Those things kept banging and clawing at the door but suddenly went away.”
Kathleen nodded. “Then they all came over to our house.”
Beverly clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”
Kathleen lifted the gun a little higher. “We took care of it. They’re gone.”
“Oh, thank God!”
Kathleen’s eyes narrowed. “Did you spend the first couple of days downstairs by chance?”
“Yes, we didn’t come out for nearly three days. How did you know?”
“Just a hunch, listen, we’re gettin’ outta here. Why don’t you come with us? Maybe we can find medical care for Michael somewhere.”
“Oh thank you, Kathleen! I’ve been worried sick.
He really doesn’t look too well.”
“Hold on. I’ll be right back okay?” Kathleen walked out and peered down the street. She let out a breath of relief when she saw Jackson standing on their porch scanning around the neighborhood. She could tell he was getting angry because he had his hands on his hips. “Jackson!” She called out and waved.
He saw her and ran over. “Where have you been? I was looking all over for you. You scared the hell outta me.”
“Sorry. I started worrying about you and went to check. I couldn’t find you anywhere. Did you get the keys?”
He held them up and jangled them with a smile. “Right here, what were you doing in that house?”
“I found two more people. You remember Beverly and Michael?”
“Beverly and Michael…hmm…oh yeah, the 4th of July, right?”
“Yeah, they stayed down in their basement too. Isn’t that strange that we saw all those people walking around the first night? We stayed in our basement and nothing happened to us, and they stayed in their basement. Don’t you find that funny?”
“Yes, that’s strange, but we need to move. So, where are they?” He rolled his fingers over one another like a wheel.
“In their basement, I think we have to help Michael. She said he was bitten and it got really infected. Now he’s sick.”
“Okay. Well let’s get him and go. I want to get out of here and get down the road before it starts gettin’ dark.” He waved her onward, and followed her down to the Wieger’s basement.
Michael, a man in his mid-thirties, had looked healthy and strong, despite a round belly, a couple months prior when they saw him at the block party. Now he had pale skin dotted with small beads of sweat and red rings around his eyes. His lips resembled a weathered, red wall more than anything to do with flesh. Lying on an old couch he shivered, despite having a thick blanket pulled up to his chest, and held his shoulder while grimacing in pain.
Kathleen stood over him with a frown. “Michael? Are you okay?”
He responded through chattering teeth and tried to smile, but his lips only rose slightly and fell down just as quickly. “I’ll be fine. I just got a little bug that’s all.”
Jackson stared at him with a frown. “Yeah, you don’t look so good. Let me see where it bit you.” He gently peeled Michael’s hand away and lifted his shirt. He saw a swollen, pus-filled, black wound and tried not to make a conspicuously, concerned expression, but his eyes bulged. He could just make out the original bite mark in the center, which took up a couple inches. The infection had spread over his entire shoulder, part of his chest, and the top of his back. “This needs medical attention immediately. Come on, let’s get you outta here.”
They all helped carry Michael to the Jeep. Beverly grabbed some of their personal belongings and hopped in. Jackson inserted the key and closed his eyes when it started up immediately.
He looked at Kathleen and smiled. “And a full tank of gas, unreal.” Then he pulled up in front of their house, grabbed their bags, and drove off.
They lived on the edge of the southeast side of Scupper. Jackson stopped the Jeep at a four-way intersection with a few state road signs advertising the different routes. He looked at each direction and tapped the steering wheel with his thumb. “We need to find medicine for his shoulder. We can go into town to the hospital, but I reckon those things have overrun the place. Sick people in beds would’ve been the easiest targets.”
Kathleen put a hand on his shoulder and pointed to the back with her eyes.
Jackson bit his lower lip, and his face pruned up. “Ahhhh, what do you think?”
He stared at Kathleen as his face began to flatten back out.
Kathleen turned to the back seat and looked at Beverly, who stroked her husband’s wet hair as he rested on her lap, still shivering and sweating profusely. “What do you think Beverly? It’s your call.”
Beverly’s eyes jumped from place to place before she spoke. “Well, I’d be surprised if a doctor were anywhere to be found. I think we just have to find bandages and medicine wherever we can, and help him ourselves.” Beverly looked down at his face and wiped some sweat off.
Jackson nodded. “I agree with that.”
Kathleen lightly touched Beverly’s leg. “What about a pharmacy?”
Beverly nodded quickly and swallowed a giant lump in her throat. “Yeah, I think that’s our best option.”
“All right. The closest pharmacy’s that way.” Jackson pointed to the east. “And that eventually heads away from town toward the mountains, so it should be safer.”
Kathleen poked Jackson in the arm. “Sounds good, let’s go, he needs some medicine.”
Gravel popped under the tires as the Jeep pulled out and headed east toward the pharmacy a short drive away.
✹✹✹
In the deserted section of the neighborhood Ron found an unlocked car with a sunroof and managed to hotwire it. He took that car and let Ann drive his. They stopped a few blocks down from the church on the road that passed by the front doors where the undead tried to get in. Only a sidewalk and a small lawn divided the building and the road.
Ron got out and rummaged through their supplies. He grabbed his M32 and the Tavor, and he walked toward Ann with the AA12 shotgun and placed it in her hands. “Just in case.” He checked all the ammo, grabbed some spare magazines, and closed the trunk. He looked over at Ann and furrowed his eyebrows when he saw that she held the shotgun in her hands with her palms open the same way a person would hold a sharp sword.
“You shouldn’t need that but let me show you how it works anyway.” He gently took the gun from her hands. “Hold it like this, okay.” He raised the butt up to his shoulder and spread his feet apart in a wide stance. “See my feet and my posture? It’s like everything’s pointing into this gun before you fire it. Now with a gun like this, it doesn’t have to be pretty; just as long as you don’t fire up in the air or into the ground.” He extended the gun to her. “You try.”
Ann swung her legs around and stepped out of the car. She took the gun and mimicked Ron’s posture.
“Good, that’s perfect. You’re a natural, Ann.”
“Come on, be honest, I’ve never done this before.”
“I am. You look good. Now, just hold her steady like this, never put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” He adjusted her finger so it sat flush under the chamber, and tightened her grip around the barrel.
“Like this?” Ann looked down the sight.
“You got it.” Now this gun covers such a wide area, you don’t have to really worry about aiming perfectly. It’s set to semi-automatic, so if anything happens, just get one of those bastards in your sights and keep squeezin’ that trigger. This gun’ll save your life, I promise, and aim for the head.”
“Okay.” She released a breath that she suddenly realized she had held for a while. “I’m ready.”
“Good. And don’t forget to turn the safety off when you’re ready to fire, and squeeze the trigger. Don’t pull like in the movies, it’ll jerk the barrel up. See you on the other side.” He kissed her and hopped back in the hotwired car and drove away first, while Ann stayed behind.
As Ron neared the church, he slammed the steering wheel over and popped the car up on the sidewalk, and proceeded toward the seething mass. He floored the gas and slammed into the edge of the pack, and the car hopped and bobbled as a couple crunched under the tires. Once clear, he turned back toward the road and slid to a halt at the edge of the sidewalk.
One by one the undead started turning around to see what the disturbance was. Several grunts, groans, and hisses filled the air as their eyes found Ron in the car, and they all walked toward it in unison, leaving the church’s steps empty. Ron punched the gas and hit the road with the pack staggering after him. He sped up and stopped a couple blocks away. In the rearview mirror he saw their torsos swaying and arms swinging freely as they charged after him. He let out one sharp exhale and stood up through the sunroof wi
th the M32 in hand and aimed into the pack’s center. When they got about fifty yards away he squeezed the trigger. The Hell Hound became an instant blur, and then the pack turned into a cloud of white smoke as an explosion rocked the neighborhood and sent several bodies hurling to the side in a flurry of heads and limbs. When the smoke cleared a couple of them with red stumps where there had been arms regained their footing and pressed onward. Some others had no limbs and kept crawling forward leaving bloody trails behind, while others were covered in abrasions but still walked. Several more had plopped to the ground with with bloody heads and finally found peace, and the remainder lurched forward unscathed.
Ron scanned the group and smacked the roof of the car. “Shit!” I thought it’d be more.” He fired again which resulted in several more injuries and another few casualties.
The M32 caused devastating damage within its blast radius that would have scattered any living creatures with a shred a sense, but the undead did not feel the touch of fear, and pressed on relentlessly. With the weapon’s fear factor reduced to zero, it was limited to only the undead mortalities it could cause. The weapon had done worse inside his house where the walls contained the explosion, and focused the force back inward. There it had caused immense butchery and many more casualties than in the open.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the street, Ann drove up to the church, threw the car door open, and started banging on the church doors. “Hello! Is anybody in there? Please, open the door!” She continued rapping loudly. “Hurry! They’re gone! We can get you out of here right now!”
Finally, a peephole opened on one of the large wooden doors. It had bars over it and looked like a tiny door. A middle-aged man’s bearded face appeared and he looked around with wild eyes. “Are those things still around?”
“No, but they’ll be back. You have to come now if you want to get out. How many people are in there?”
“Just me.” He opened the door a few inches and stuck his head out, looking around feverishly. Finally, after glances in every direction, he opened the door and stepped out.
The Inroad Chronicles (Book 1): Legion Seed Page 20
