Zombie Zora

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Zombie Zora Page 13

by R.G. Richards

Thoughts of my conversation with Thompson played continuously in my head. How could I have been so wrong about him? Should I tell the others what he told me? They needed to know our situation. I told myself to relax and think of good things, my usual method of calming. It failed me this time and no matter what I did, I thought of Thompson and his words to me. When he was stronger, I would tell them and shame them all.

  I got up to walk around, pacing helped me focus. Jones and Brittany were sleeping and Thompson was still out. I didn’t care to check on Charley, he was a monster. It was late in the evening when our break came. My heart fluttered when I scanned the area and saw our break.

  It was not the break I wanted and I wished I were not a witness to the carnage that would follow. The sun was nearly down, its orange aurora low in the sky. I couldn’t see the distant road we needed to travel; houses blocked my view. However, I could see the nearby street and people, humans. They were running down the street as fast as they could. Running away from us.

  “Hey!”

  I stood so I could shout again and Charley tackled me. He put his hand over my mouth and pressed down hard. “Shut up!”

  I struggled and managed to pull his hand away from my mouth. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “You can’t bring them here.”

  “What?”

  “Your buddy,” Charley was livid. His face twisted into one of loathing. He jabbed his finger next to me at Thompson. “Your zombie friend was right about that.”

  “So what?”

  “Let them do their job. You call them this way and they will bring more zombies with them. We are trying to get rid of them, not attract them.”

  “We can help them.” I snarled and twisted, trying to get to my feet.

  “Let them go. With any luck, they will run far away and make it. But if they don’t, at least they will take every zombie with them and we can get the hell out of here.”

  “You bastard!”

  I couldn’t believe he would be willing to sacrifice helpless people. This is the same man who had been so nice in the past. How could he have changed so quickly?

  “Zee,” Brittany’s sad eyes came beside me. “He’s right and so is Thompson. They are no different from any group of people. I’m sure there have been people who have seen us, but didn’t help. We were taking zombies away from them so they could survive. They are doing the same for us.”

  “It’s not the same thing and you know it. What happened to you?”

  “I’m surviving, Zee, and so are they. We are alive. Maybe at the end of the day, they will be alive, too.”

  “That is bullshit and you know it.”

  “People probably thought that about us and we are still here, Zee.”

  Charley released me and I stood, defeated. I watched as six people ran down the street. It saddened me when one fell. I was hoping one of the others would go back and help her, but they didn’t. They continued and I know they heard her screams.

  Zombies launched themselves down at the woman and though they were barely audible, I placed my hands over my ears to block out the screams. We watched a pack of zombies eat the woman. I was thankful when she finally went silent and succumbed to her fate.

  Many of the zombies continued to chase the others. Those left, tore the dead woman in pieces. There was no way she was going to turn into one of them; there wouldn’t be enough of her left for the transformation. Zombies came in and bit off a piece, one after the other. A leg came off and several munched on it together. Some sat down to feast on their findings like it was lunchtime at a day at the park.

  When they finally finished, they had forgotten all about us, trapped on a floating deck only a few feet from their grasp. They left, taking the same route the other zombies took. A few of them went into various houses in search of food, but most scattered.

  By now, Thompson was up and looking. If he could help us, now was the time.

  “Baker, over here.” Jones called me.

  I walked over to him. He and Brittany were lining up bottles. Charley was ripping up a shirt. “Yeah?”

  “Give me a hand.”

  I knelt next to him. “What?”

  “It’s time to get the hell out of here. We are going to make Molotov cocktails and throw them at some of the houses. With any luck, we will get the zombies inside. While the others are confused by the fire, we will make our escape. You ready?”

  Jones handed me a couple of bottles. I wasn’t exactly sure how to make the cocktails. It couldn’t be that hard. I took the tops off two bottles and copied Jones’ moves. I stuffed a rag in each, leaving enough room to light the fuse. In all, we made six. We had more bottles, but on second thought, Jones thought six would be enough.

  Looking at me, Jones said, “Your job is to get Thompson. Dushell, Charley, and I will light and throw the bottles. You need to be at edge of the water ready to go.” I wanted to throw the cocktails, it would be thrilling. I loved setting fires and this one, would be setting an entire house on fire. I would control where it started and when, what a thrill it would be. I would also get the added pleasure of watching burning, screaming zombies. You couldn’t beat the thrill of it. I wanted to argue with the plan. I had a better one. Jones and I got along and I didn’t want to risk that, so I nodded my head, agreeing with his plan.

  Jones helped me ease Thompson to the edge of the deck. Thompson had done an excellent job of floating on his back and surely he would be able to do it again. Like me, he agreed to the plan and put up no fight. I put my pack around me and eased us both into the water. We held onto the edge of the deck and waited for the others.

  Thompson’s eyes were kind. I could see them pleading with me to live these last days with gusto. I would, just as soon as I made it to Camp Brandt and saw my brother. He and I would live. Then, I would dance.

  Being on the opposite side, we were able to see the others as they went and I so much wanted to be with my team. I focused on Jones. I have no idea why I resisted looking at the others. Well. That is not exactly true, I knew why. For Brittany, I was being petty and needed to cut it out. Charley was a different matter altogether. I tried remembering his last name and couldn’t, I didn’t even know that about our new ally. Oh well, it’s not important.

  Jones held his bottles high, between his teeth, he carried matches. He had floated on his back, lightly kicking with the bottles in the air. When he felt he was safe enough, he lowered his feet to stand, keeping the wicks dry. I could do that maneuver if I had the chance, I know I could. I watched Jones creep to the back of a blue house. He opened the back door, lit his wick, and threw in his bottle.

  The house flamed up and burning zombies came out screaming. They dropped to the ground and burned. The others chose similar targets. At that point, I took off with Thompson in tow. I swam us to the end and pulled him out of the water. Jones ran back with the others to get their packs. Thompson was weak and managed to help as best he could. I felt his arm squeeze around me playfully as we walked out onto dry land to get ready for our next run. I gave him words of encouragement and he leaned on me as we readied to leave. It was the accident, I knew it. Who wouldn’t have trouble after a high-speed toss? It was a miracle he was with us. With a second wind, we headed for the trees and away from the burning houses, arm in arm.

  “Baker! Baker!”

  I stopped and turned around.

  “No! No!” Jones was on the ground and Brittany was with him. What was going on? Had he been attacked? How? Jones stood and there was nothing wrong with him. Brittany lit the fuse to the bottle he carried and he ran in my direction. “Get down! Get down!”

  I looked in front of me. I heard their screams before my head had whipped around to see what the problem was. Zombies. They were coming from the other direction, our escape route. I went low, pulling Thompson down with me. Thompson didn’t lie, he was living life to its fullest and with all the gusto he could muster. Here we were in a life-and-death situation, maybe even dying tonight, and he was lying next
to me on the ground, being handsy.

  I could have stopped him, the thin white top I wore provided no protection from the events. I thought, what to do, but his words rang true, Live! Don’t forget you are alive. So I relaxed and went with it.

  After we dropped, Jones stopped and threw his cocktail. He hit a zombie and it caught fire like an instant torch. The zombie bumped into another and they burned.

  Jones chose a route and we ran. Zombies were behind us, cutting us off from the floating deck. Up ahead were many houses. I stayed with Thompson and we followed Jones. Down the street we went in search of safety. We zigzagged through houses and yards and eventually lost the slow-moving creatures. We wound up at a two-story house and took refuge there.

  Furniture packed the house. It took time, but we got everything moved and blocked both doors. Brittany strung cans together and tied them across the bottom of the stairs as an early warning device. I unpacked and gave out penlight flashlights to both Brittany and Jones. I claimed we were out, but Charley was next to me and the others were staring. I reluctantly gave him mine, hoping it would go out soon. We sat out on a mission to search the house for more supplies.

  Jones found a bell we could use. He tied it to the top of the stairs. Charley raided the closets for dry clothes. He brought back something for each of us, except Thompson. I brought back heavy pans; they would make good weapons to swing. Brittany found a case of Mason jars. She told Jones we could pour whiskey in them and throw them at zombies. We learned from the fires that they burned easily and quickly.

  The only thing left to do was to settle in for the night. I unpacked my backpack and we went off to change. I must say, I didn’t want to. I wore a thin low-cut top with jeans. My clothes were clinging to me, normally it would terrify me, but I saw Thompson staring at me with his evil grin. It made me feel warm inside, knowing I was attractive and wanted. My body tingled and I felt heat where his eyes roamed. Why not enjoy the moment? I gave a small show and waited until last to change. I was shivering by that time, but I felt good. I thought of Thompson and went to talk to him. I told him I was sorry that I forgot to get him new clothes and offered him clothing from the boys’ packs. He politely accepted and made sure to caress my hand as I handed him his new clothes. I smiled and then went off to change.

  The upstairs held a large master bedroom. The bed would not be slept on. Like the others we found, it was placed against windows on the ground floor. We gathered blankets from the huge walk-in closet and made pallets on the floor. Safety in numbers.

  No one wanted to be next to Thompson, he was on the end and I became the divider between him and my team. Jones would take the first watch, followed by Brittany, and then Charley. I wanted to object to the order, but didn’t. Jones was in charge and if he trusted Charley more than he trusted me, so be it. I kept my boots on and as a last safety measure; I put my hammer in my belt and knife in my back pocket. At the first sign of danger, I would have weapons to swing. I miss my rifle.

  I lie down and shut my eyes, hoping nothing more would happen before morning. I comforted myself with the knowledge that we were close to the Promised Land and now was not the time to give up. I would stay strong for me, for Simon.

  Thompson sidled next to me in the darkness and let his hands roam. I allowed it for a moment. I would not take the next natural step, too many bodies were present. If we were alone, maybe, maybe not. I moved his hand and scooted closer to the others. He was a gentleman and went to sleep.

  It was during the late night that my bubble burst. I should have known. A lot of shaking occurred next to me and woke me. I found my light and shined it on Thompson. Oh my god, his eyes were red and he was sweating profusely. I jumped up.

  “I told you! I told you!” Charley was screaming. It was a mixture of happiness, relief that he was right, and fear.

  Thompson was shaking and staring at me. Something was strange about it. “Wait.” I had no idea what it was. Something was definitely off. Rather than panic like I should have, I looked at him and shined my light in his eyes again.

  He was shaking and his eyes reacted to the light. “Can you hear me?”

  He blinked. I kept looking at him and thinking, racking my brain for an explanation. He didn’t utter a word, instead, he managed to lift his right hand and he lowered his thumb. It didn’t hit me right away, then it registered. It was the mercy sign. He knew he was infected. All that time on the deck, his trying to teach me sign language, he was preparing me for what I would have to do. He had chosen me to end his life. I closed my eyes and fought back tears. Why would I have them anyway? This man meant nothing to me. From my belt, I pulled out my hammer. While the others watched in silence, I walked around to Thompson’s head to find the spot he was talking about. I found it and I swung down, hard.

  I stepped away from the dead body. I felt like throwing up and I didn’t want to lose it in front of everyone. Brittany came over to comfort me. I should have accepted her offer, but I refused. The bond we made meant something to me and try as I might, I couldn’t get past the idea of her throwing it away so easily.

  Brittany was gracious, she didn’t push at all. She was much better than I could ever be, which, made me dislike her even more. I was the only one who cared about Thompson and now that he was gone, I’m sure the others would party.

  “What do you suppose did it?” Charley asked Jones.

  “I don’t know,” said Jones, “damn peculiar. Come on, help me with him.”

  They went to move him and fire burned in me. I felt it spreading throughout my feet and an instant later, it shot all the way to the top of my head. I moved as if on fire. “Let him go! Let him go! Leave him alone, damn it!”

  I pushed Jones back and swung at Charley with my bloody hammer. I wanted to knock his head off. If not for him, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “Zee,” shouted Brittany. She rushed to my side and wrapped her arms around me.

  “Let me go! Let me go!” I protested and tried to break free. Tears began streaming down my face as I fought to gain my freedom. Charley was smirking at me. The others couldn’t see it, but I saw it clear as day. “He did it! It was him. He did something to Thompson when we weren’t looking.”

  “Zee! Stop it.” Brittany yelled.

  “We don’t know him. How do we know he isn’t working for the government and infected him as some kind of test? What about us? He could have infected us, too.”

  “Zee, stop it. You don’t know what you are saying. Stop it.”

  Charley glared at me as if I had lost my mine. I hadn’t. It was reasonable, if you think about it. We didn’t know him from the man on the moon. Could the others be so blind? I kept trying to break loose. After a while, I stopped. I was sweating. Brittany was singing to me. I didn’t know when she had begun and don’t know the song, but it was soothing and I was tired of struggling. I collapsed against a wall and listened to her sing.

  “They need to check him, Zee. Maybe he has a bite. You remember Ruthie? She had a bite on her upper leg that none of us saw. Relax and let them check Thompson. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Check him,” said Brittany.

  I stayed still while Charley and Jones went to the body. They turned him over. Jones took off his shirt and put it over Thompson’s head. He was kind to my friend, I appreciated that. Fearing I might try something, Jones told Charley to stay back and let him check. His words were comforting and I needed to hear them.

  Jones began with the shirt. Thompson wore a blue long sleeve shirt. Jones unbuttoned the shirt and took it off. They saw no bites or scratches. They turned him over and saw nothing on his back. After removing his pants, they found what they were looking for. Thompson had a bite mark on his left leg above his ankle.

  Brittany helped me to my feet and we came closer to have a look for ourselves. I can only guess that he was in a fight with a zombie and the zombie grabbed his ankle, maybe knocking him down and then biting him.

  Thompson was our expert. If
it had been one of us, he could have told us how long ago the bite was, to give us an estimate of when it occurred. Without him, we were lost.

  “Could you put his pants back on, please?”

  “Sure.”

  Jones turned the pants upside down and pieces of glass fell out of one of the pockets. The pieces were thin and had traces of a blue liquid on some of them. He turned the pocket inside out and it was stained blue.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Brittany.

  “You got me,” said Jones. He picked up a piece and sniffed it. His eyes widened. “I bet it’s a serum. This whole time he has been with us, he kept the truth from us. He got infected before we left the camp. That son of a bitch.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Zee! Look at this.”

  The piece of paper had medical writing on it. Jones could be right. Thompson was a scientist and if a cure existed, he would have it.

  “Oh my God! It’s true.” Jones said. “Back at the house, when I caught him peeking at little Katy, I kicked him. I thought I heard something shatter, but I wasn’t sure and I was mad as hell. I just kept kicking him. It must have been his serum. I broke it when I kicked him.”

  “Then he knew he didn’t have much time left.”

  “Yeah, Zee, I guess so,” said Jones.

  Jones looked sad. It wasn’t his fault. He was protecting us from what he thought was a pervert. Turns out, we were both wrong.

  “Could you cover him up, please?”

  “Sure.”

  Chapter Fourteen

 

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