Zombie Zora

by R.G. Richards

I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t think. I ran with a yell loud enough to wake the dead. Like Jones, my bat was over my head, primed and ready. Into the fray I went. I joined Brittany and swung as hard as I could. The zombie I hit was young looking, that is, the person it used to be was young looking. Its head cracked open with my first blow. It howled at me from the ground, I smashed it again to finish it.

  Brittany protected the lone woman. The man screamed her name, Ruth. I went to help clear his way from the three zombies blocking it. I kicked the first as hard as I could in the back of the leg to knock it down, it was tall. I shrieked and let the ax fall, splitting its head open. The man was punching a zombie, so I clubbed the other. I hit it like the last and kicked the remaining one before the man punched his fist all the way through its head.

  “Oh, gross.” I was good until that moment. Watching the man bring his hand back out of the zombie’s skull was unreal. Green slime covered his fist with bits of what looked like tapioca pudding. Gross.

  We got them.

  I took a moment to look at the busted skull of the zombie. I wasn’t alone, Thompson saddled up beside me. He picked up a twig, poked around in the skull, then grasped it with his hands.

  “It’s thinner than it should be. That’s a good sign.” Thompson said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “They are dying, not the newly made, but the older zombies that have been around for a while. We thought it was part of a strategy.” He wiped his hand, then ran it through his thinning hair.

  “What strategy.” I pressed.

  He shook his head. “I’m gonna have to think on it. I know it’s important though.”

  “All right,” said Jones. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait,” the woman said. “Don?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry, Ruthie. We led the zombies away from her daughter, Katy. She’s back that way, hiding in a tree house.” He pointed west.

  “Sorry,” said Jones. “We were happy to lend a hand, but we are going in the opposite direction.”

  “Matt!” Brittany yelled. I was just as shocked as she.

  “We can’t go off target, Dushell. We are out of ammo.”

  “How far is it?” I asked.

  “Baker!” Jones growled.

  I ignored him and looked to the stranger. “How far?”

  He extended a hand to me. “I’m Don Sparkson, by the way. This is my neighbor, Ruthie Graham.”

  “Nice to meet you. How far?”

  “About a mile from here. We were walking near the road, headed north, when we saw them. We were able to spot the tree house and get Katy in it, before they were aware of us. There wasn’t enough room for us, so we thought we could outrun them and circle back to get her. It didn’t work out the way we wanted.”

  “I’ll go,” I said. Jones' face fell, I knew it would. For the first time in a long while, we were on opposite sides.

  “Me, too.” Brittany said. I loved her and was grateful she backed me, but it meant she was choosing me over Jones.

  “Go on,” said Jones. It showed in his face, he was ticked off. “We are not the ‘do good society’ we’re the army. You’re going to die for no good reason.” He was probably right.

  “We’re still human, Jones. Let’s not forget that.” I countered.

  Brittany and I watched the others turn to leave, namely Jones and Thompson, while we prepared to do a good deed. Don led the way and we followed.

  “Thank you so much,” Ruthie repeated a number of times.

  I thought about Jones so much that I didn’t acknowledge her pleas of gratitude. Maybe that’s why she thanked us so many times. Brittany walked beside me and brushed her arm against mine. She smiled at me to reassure me. It didn’t work. She knew very well what we had done.

  As we walked, I shook as much zombie blood off my hands as I could. I could never get it all. Still, with determination, I shook my hands relentlessly. I would have stopped if Brittany hadn’t been doing the same.

  We came to a group of trees. Several meters into them, Don pointed to the small tree house. My god, it was small. There was no way Ruthie could have gotten in with her daughter. I know it must have killed her, to leave Katy there and run. I have no kids, but I know from personal experience, it has to take a lot of love for a mother to walk away. Ruthie walked away and knew she may never see her baby again.

  It pained me. Simon flashed across my mind and I quickly shut him out. Not now!

  “Katy! Katy!” Ruthie walked around the tree house, looking up for a response.

  “Give her the code,” said Don.

  Ruthie stopped marching around the base of the tree. “Cinderella will always twirl.” She shouted upward.

  The little door opened. A little head poked out. Her hair was long and stringy, like her mother’s hair. Red, wild, and unmanageable. She craned her neck down and I saw her dirty face, my heart leaped. It was as if we had a chance to win after all. If we kept in mind what we were fighting for, we couldn’t lose.

  “Cinderella doesn’t twirl,” the tiny voice said back.

  Ruthie’s face filled with tears and she held out her hands. “She does in my world. Come here, baby.”

  The little house had a porch. The girl crawled out onto it and looked down at us.

  “They are okay, Katy.” Don reassured her. “We found them up ahead. There are two more of them that we have to catch.”

  She looked at us cautiously. “Where’s Ann?”

  Don held out his hands. “Jump down, I will catch you.”

  “Where’s Ann?” she repeated, growing concerned.

  “Jump,” said Don.

  The little girl crawled and kind of fell forward. The tree house looked to be fifteen or more feet off the ground and with no limbs to climb, I can only assume they had used a ladder to get her up there.

  Don caught her and handed her to her mother. She latched around Ruthie’s neck immediately. I waved at her from behind Ruthie’s back, she half smiled at me. Smart girl, don’t trust strangers.

  “Hi, I’m Zora. My friends call me, Zee. Who are you?”

  “I’m Katy.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Katy.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “Hey, I’m Brittany.”

  “Hey, I’m Katy.”

  “Well, it’s good to meet you, Katy. It’s been a long time since I met someone your age.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We better catch the others, before Jones gets too far ahead.” I suggested.

  “We are ready,” said Don.

  “Let’s go.”

  Brittany led us back. She was out in front and instinctively I slowed to fall to the rear. Directly in front of me was Don and ahead of him, Ruthie carrying Katy. We walked at a quick pace back the way we came. Up ahead was the area of fighting, littered with dozens of dead zombies. I stopped. I heard something. A low zombie growl, no, it was much worse.

  I veered from our path, the others hadn’t heard it and if I were wrong, there would be no need to alarm them. I decided to check it out on my own. With my gun out in front of me, I crept toward it, while keeping an eye on the others ahead of me. I left the open space while they meandered through the corpses. I noticed Katy clinging tighter to her mother’s neck, her face buried in her mother’s hair. I crept toward the outer trees listening to the sound getting louder.

  If I didn’t know better, I would say it was some type of pleasure sound. When I found it, I was right. I saw the zombie who dragged the woman off, the one who had the hammers, Ann. It munched on her, loudly, making what sounded like voracious feasting sounds as it tore pieces of her flesh off.

  The zombie looked up at me and howled. I buried the tip of my gun into its brain, not once, but twice. I graced Ann with the same, no sense she waking with a zombie appetite. I came out into the clearing feeling better.

  Brittany ran to me, ready to swing. “What is it? Are you okay?”

  “One last zombie, I took
care of him. Let’s go.” I wiped the spew off the end of my gun and marched forward.

  Brittany gave me a congratulatory smirk and took her lead position again. I stepped over a dead zombie and something shining caught my eye. I cautiously bent down. I made it a practice not to get close to zombie bodies, dead or otherwise. Beneath a zombie’s back lay intrigue, the shiny thing that captured my attention.

  My fingers were trembling and I couldn’t stop them. Telling myself the creature was dead had little effect on them. Still, I couldn’t stop shaking and I couldn’t move on without it. I knew what it was. Metal. I gingerly lifted the deadweight and pulled it out, one of the dead woman’s hammers. We can use this. I wore a belt with my pants; I stuck it there and for good measure, kicked the zombie before catching up to the others.

  Minutes later we saw the others moving toward a house. We kept our pace, no need to hurry; it looked as though this would be our home for the night.

  Jones went in while Thompson watched at the door. By the time we reached the house, they were inside scavenging.

  The fading sunlight told the tale. This was our home tonight. I walked in to see Thompson reclining on a couch. I pushed past the others to find Jones. Searching room to room, I found him in a back bedroom. “Hey.”

  Jones looked up at me from inside a closet, “hey.”

  “We got the girl; she looks maybe five or six.” I thought that may smooth things over between us.

  “What would you like to do next?”

  His words were sweet and softly spoken. They did more damage that way. He stuck me with his knife and twisted for good measure. “What do you think we should do?”

  “What do you think we should do?” another stab, and that one hurt more.

  I had to nip it in the bud. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. You are my commanding officer and I broke rank.” My shaky words were strong.

  “Respect my authority, Zee Zee.” He sneered. “We can’t save the world.”

  His words hurt. I deserved them and didn’t fight back. “I know.”

  “People are dying out there at this moment.” His face was bright red as he jabbed his finger in the air. “We will never be able to save everyone.”

  “I know. It was a little girl, Jones. Can’t you understand that? It was a little girl. If they had died, what was she supposed to do on her own? I had to help her.”

  “You’re my second, Baker. You can’t do that in front of people. Your job is to back me and follow orders.

  “I always back you and I do follow orders.”

  He gave me a confused look.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t cross the line again. Will you forgive me?”

  “Don’t do it again.”

  I felt better. “I won’t.”

  “Check out the kitchen. You and Dushell have kitchen duty. Dismissed.”

  He turned his back to me and went back to searching the closet. I snapped to attention and saluted his back. It felt like old times. I left the room full of energy and in high spirits. Dushell stood by a window. She would get a kick out of this one. “Private Dushell, kitchen duty.” I smirked.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” she shot back.

  We laughed as we walked to the kitchen. A shadow went across a wall and we snapped into soldier mode. “They checked the whole house, didn’t they?”

  Brittany looked apprehensive. “We better double-check.”

  “Yeah.”

  I went right, she went left. It was a nice kitchen in a nice house. We fanned out and looked on both sides of the marbled island fixed in the center of the room. We didn’t think they could get in them, but we opened all the bottom shelves and looked under the table for hidden zombies.

  I set my mind to wonder where the shadow came from. It happened again and I saw it. I saw several thin wires wrapped together. The wire was moving the kitchen blind.

  “Britt?”

  She crept to me, watching the wire and blind move. “What’s that?” she whispered.

  I shook my head. I had no idea what it was. It came from the floor. Specifically, it shot up from a larger hole in the floor. I waved Brittany closer and whispered. “Is there a basement in this house?”

  She whispered back, “they didn’t say.”

  “Come on.”

  We eased back out of the kitchen. Ruthie washed Katy’s face in a bowl she found. I noticed my backpack next to her was open. Was it my precious bottled water she used? My stomach dropped. Pushing back my anger, I put a finger to my lips to quiet them. Now wasn’t the time to discuss supplies.

  Thompson got to his feet and picked up his rifle. I tiptoed to the couch, got mine, and Brittany pulled her pipe from her backpack. Looking around, I spotted the door to the basement.

  “Did you or Jones check the basement?” I whispered to Thompson.

  His confusion told the story. He sadly shook his head.

  “Follow me.”

  I led us to the door and quietly turned the doorknob and eased the door open. I held my nose, a putrid smell rose from the basement. Zombies were in the basement. Jones and Thompson hadn’t thoroughly searched. I shot a look at Thompson and he shrugged as if it wasn’t him. How could he not care?

  Not now, I told myself. I turned back to the basement door and steeled myself for entry. I saw a ceiling light fixture, a long chord dangled from it. From behind me came a light. I looked back and saw it came from Brittany’s flashlight.

  I descended the steps carefully, imagining a zombie grabbing my feet to trip me. I watched too much TV and believe it or not, I loved the scenes of the stupid girls tripping and getting whacked. They deserved it.

  “Zee?” Brittany whispered behind me.

  “Shh, I see something.”

  I motioned her forward and directed her to shine her light against a wall. That’s it. I saw a wall of cement that went nearly to the top of the ceiling. About a foot separated it from touching the ceiling. In the middle was a door with a piece of wood across it, slid through holders on either side of the door.

  Up above I saw the wire moving. When Brittany shined her light on it, it stopped. Someone was inside, moving the wire.

  “Hey, anybody out there?” it was a man’s voice, filled with desperation. He was human. “Hey!”

  “Wh-who is there?” I asked.

  “Hey, help me. Open the door and let me out.”

  I moved forward to open the door, Brittany grabbed me. “Don’t open that door. He’s back there for a reason. That’s a prison cell.”

  “Hey.” The man pounded on the door. “Don’t leave me here.”

  “Why are you back there?” I asked.

  “Open the door and let me out.”

  “Why are you back there? What did you do?”

  “Nothing. Let me out.” The banging became more of a frantic escape attempt.

  The man was human and that was good enough for me. I could no more leave him than I could leave Katy. Instinctively, I held up my M16. With ambivalence, I took a step forward.

  Thompson grabbed me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  I shook loose. “You’re not me.” I slid the piece of wood aside.

  “Zee,” Brittany protested.

  “Shh.” I cautiously opened the door. I held up my gun, ready to fire. I expected a charge. What I saw was a man chained at his waist and wrists to a wall. There were clothes strewn about and a few metal clothes hangers were near him. I thought of the wire and it occurred to me that it was a collection of straightened out clothes hangers. The man was standing inside a closet.

  The smell was strongest here and from the scent, it came from this room. To the left of him lay a body in chains, a dead zombie. The zombie’s head was smashed in and its brains lay seeping into the dirt floor. I looked at the bits of brain and its grossness made my face sour in repulsion. Following the gook on the ground, I ended my gaze at the man’s feet, his right cowboy boot had traces of green slime.

  “What happened?” I demanded.

&nbs
p; “They locked us down here in chains, zombies scratched us. She turned, I didn’t.”

  I wavered, my rifle didn’t. It sounded plausible and the blood on his boot proved it. “How long have you been locked up.”

  The man pointed to something out of my view. I stepped forward and craned my neck to look without having to go further into the hell before me. I saw five jugs of water in plastic gallon containers. Three were on their sides, empty. Next to the water, I saw sealed and emptied bags of beef jerky. I hate to say it, given where I was and the rancid smell in the air, but my mouth watered. The thought of the jerky overpowered my repulsion.

  “Explain?”

  “They left us. It was two days ago.”

  Thompson was our zombie expert. It killed me to have to turn to him. I had no choice. “Thompson. What do you think? Is his story possible?”

  Thompson came forward. His smirk pronounced, curbing the corners of his thin lips upward. He enjoyed himself at my expense. I still want to kill him.

  Chapter Seven