by Dziekan, PJ
Home with the Dead
(Walking with the Dead, Book 2)
Home with the Dead
(Walking with the Dead, Book 2)
PJ Dziekan
Copyright © 2019 PJ Dziekan
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13:
For mom
Thanks for typing the very first one.
CHAPTER ONE
Five minutes. That’s all I need, Sarah Louis thought. She looked over her shoulder at Mick. He smiled at her and she returned it. She couldn’t help it. When she turned her head, however, the smile was gone. Three minutes, she thought. I could do it in three minutes. Just divert his attention and I can get it done.
The supermarket had been looted numerous times. They only stopped because it was free of traffic and they had some room left in the Jeep. They had found almost nothing, a couple cans of evaporated milk, some dented cans of chicken broth, a ripped package of napkins. She was working her way toward the health and beauty aids, Mick right behind her. She had to lose him, just for a minute. One lousy minute.
Her foot stepped in something soft. She looked down, expecting rotten food. Her foot was half in, half out of the abdomen of a decomposing body. She gagged, her gorge rising as she pulled her foot free. She struggled to keep down the wraps Becca had made for breakfast that morning.
“What’s up?” Mick asked, coming up behind her. “Why’d you stop?”
She closed her eyes, took a breath. “Body,” she said, her voice just a little shaky. “I stepped in it.”
“Oh.” He stepped over the body and turned to face her. He noticed the fine sheen of sweat on her brow. “You OK?”
“I’m fine, Mick.” The lie came easy. “Just tired.” She smiled at him. “You kept me up pretty late last night.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” He leaned in, kissed her softly. “I’ll do it again tonight if you want.”
She laughed. “Give a girl a break, perv.”
“Perv?” Mick repeated with a smile. “You weren’t saying that last night.”
“I wasn’t tired last night.”
He peered at her. “You do look tired. Why don’t we get out of here, head back home?” He looked around. “There’s nothing left here anyway.”
Damn! “OK, I –uh—I just want to take a quick look over there.” Sarah nodded towards the health and beauty aids.
“Let’s go, then.”
Fuck! “OK.” Sighing, she stepped over the body and walked toward the shampoo aisle, Mick right behind her.
“Hey guys!” Dylan called. “I got something here.”
She saw her opportunity. “Go see what he wants,” Sarah said quickly. “I’ll just take a quick look here.”
“He’ll keep,” Mick said. “I’ll wait for you.”
Sarah huffed out a breath. “Go help him. I’m fine here.”
“OK, OK.” Mick backed away; hands held out in front of him. “Don’t take too long.”
Sarah smiled. “I won’t. Probably not much here anyway.”
She waited until he turned his back and started towards where Dylan was waiting. She stuck her hand through the handles of the basket, letting it dangle from her wrist. Still holding onto her pipe, she slid her backpack off her shoulder. Walking quickly, she bypassed shampoos and soaps, a completely bare medication aisle, until she finally found what she was looking for. She swept a bunch into her open backpack, stepping on and over broken boxes of condoms.
“Sarah!” She heard Mick call.
“Coming!” She left the aisle, throwing a few random things in her basket as she passed.
“What did you find?” Mick asked, looking into her basket. A box of tampons, a torn box of Q-tips, a roll of gauze. “Not much, huh?”
“No.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “What did Dylan find?”
“Diesel. Bunch of cans.”
“Excellent!”
“Hope it’s still good,” Mick said. “Diesel degrades over time, just like gas, just takes a little longer.”
“So why is the gas still good?”
“Most new vehicles have sealed systems,” Mick explained. “Air can’t get to the gas. For the rest?” He shrugged. “We have a stockpile of fuel additive we got from that last auto parts store.”
Sarah nodded. “But when that’s gone?”
“Then we walk. We chop a lot of wood. Maybe we find horses.”
Sarah wrapped her arms around herself. “How soon, do you think?”
Mick shrugged. “I don’t know. Ryan might. Or Dylan.” He smiled.
“I am not asking him another question,” Sarah said adamantly. “I don’t need to hear another thirty-minute lecture complete with subtle putdowns of my competency.”
“He’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.” Mick’s hand came up and stroked her cheek. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
Sarah looked down. “Shutty,” she murmured.
Mick laughed, tilted her head up. “It’s true and you know it.” His lips met hers. “Have I said thank you lately?”
Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but Dylan beat her to it. “You lovebirds mind doing that later? I want to get out of here.”
“Coming, Dylan,” Mick called. He kissed Sarah again. “Until later.” Mick moved in the direction of Dylan’s voice.
Sarah sighed, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders. Holding the basket of scavenged goods and her trusty pipe, she followed Mick.
♦
She found them near the entrance, half a dozen yellow five-gallon containers on the ground before them. “You can help carry these,” Dylan said. “I’ll keep watch.”
“No, you can carry. I’ll keep watch.” Sarah pushed past him out the shattered doors. She set her basket at the back of the Jeep and opened the hatch one handed. She kept her grip on her pipe. She was almost never without her pipe.
She scanned the area, seeing no movement. “Come on,” she said. Mick came out first, Dylan right on his heels. Each of them carried two cans of diesel. Sarah ignored them as they loaded the Jeep, keeping her eyes on their surroundings. One of the guys hit the door on the way back in, a pane of glass falling to shatter on ground. Sarah spotted what could have been a pile of garbage about 150 feet away moving slightly. “You woke one up, guys.”
“Almost done.” Mick was carrying another can of diesel and a basket with some of their salvage.
The pile of garbage moved slowly, a low weak moan emanating from it as it grew, coming to a standing position. Sarah couldn’t make out any features, just knew that it heard them, it smelled them, and it was coming for them.
She tightened her hands on the pipe as it moved closer, a little faster now that it smelled them. As it neared her, she could almost feel pity for the creature. It was barely recognizable as once being human. Naked, with the shreds of a shirt around its neck, its skin was dry and leathery, pulled tight around its bones. It gnashed its teeth as it neared and she could see the infectious fluid running over its cracked lips.
“Guys?” She called again.
“Hold your horses,” Dylan said.
“Fuck you, Dylan.” Shrugging her backpack to the ground, she advanced toward the creature. It moaned, reaching for her with broken fingers. She swung the pipe, shattering its weakened skull. It dropped without a sound. She looked around; saw another one at the far end of the parking lot. They would be long gone before it made it to the store. She strode back to the Jeep, picking up her backpack along the way, shaking the crud off her pipe.
“Thought you were in a hurry to get out of here,” Dylan said, standing by the passenger door.
“I repeat,
fuck you, Dylan.” Sarah opened the back door and climbed inside. She slammed the door and fastened her seat belt.
Dylan snorted and got in the front seat. Mick took the driver’s side, fastening his belt when he got in. “You ready to head home?”
Sarah thought of what she carried in her backpack. “Yeah.”
“We should try that corner grocery we passed,” Dylan said, drumming his fingers on the door. “I bet some stuff was left.”
Mick met Sarah’s eyes in the mirror. He could see the fatigue there. “We have enough,” he declared. “That diesel was a good find. We’ll head home.” He put the Jeep in gear and pulled away.
“We should get stuff while we’re out here.” Dylan moved his fingers from the door to the dash, the restless beat giving Sarah a headache. “Just ‘cause Sarah’s tired doesn’t mean we should quit.”
“We’re going home, Dylan.” Mick’s voice held a bite of anger. He was an easygoing guy for the most part, but the man had a way of getting under your skin.
“Fine,” Dylan muttered. He slid down in his seat.
Sarah leaned back, looking out the window. The town was mostly deserted, with the exception of a few zombies, and mostly barren. Nearly everything of value to their daily survival had been stripped, by either them or some other group. She smiled sadly when they passed a cell phone store, the latest and greatest in smart phones untouched in the display window. Six months ago, those phones were the hottest piece of technology; everyone wanted one despite the exorbitant cost. Now they weren’t even worth a bottle of water. It was a totally different world. Her hand clenched on her backpack.
Movement caught her eye. “Mick, that one’s fresh,” she said.
Mick looked out his window. “Damn, she’s real fresh. Couple days at the most.”
The creature was once a middle-aged woman. She had been thin, as most everyone was nowadays, wearing dirty jeans and a grey shirt. The creature’s arm was a bloody mess, the bites that killed in a line up the limb. Its eyes were as dead as she was as they followed the vehicle.
“There must still be survivors here,” Sarah said, her eyes never leaving the zombie.
“Of course, there are,” Dylan said. “Who do you think has been looting stores before us?”
“I didn’t think they were staying in the area,” Sarah responded. “I thought they were just passing through.”
“Guess you were wrong,” Dylan muttered.
“Dylan, if you have a problem with me, just say so and stop all this passive aggressive bullshit,” Sarah bit out. “Although you didn’t seem to have a problem with me when I almost got killed rescuing your ass from that roof.”
“I don’t have a problem with you.” His voice was barely audible.
“Then shut the fuck up.” Sarah closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Her emotions were all over the place. She could usually shrug off Dylan’s bullshit, but she was getting mighty tired of it. Of him.
♦
The ride back was a long couple of hours. They were ranging further and further from their home base, supplies getting scarce. They weren’t going to starve – they had stockpiled – but what they had wouldn’t last forever. And with two teenagers and two kids to feed, the food went faster. Someone would have to make another supply run and go even further out. Not me, Sarah thought. I’m just too damn tired.
She had actually dozed off, the rough road leading to the cabin waking her. She blinked as she sat up and looked thru the dusty window. The trees were full, buds starting to pop. She couldn’t wait for the apple trees to start producing. They had some when they arrived six months prior, but not enough. They never seemed to get enough fresh produce. They expanded the original garden, so in the coming summer they would have lots of fresh vegetables, but what she wouldn’t give for a juicy apple right now.
Mick pulled up to the barn, backing in so it would be easier to unload. Sarah put her backpack on her shoulder and grabbed two baskets of salvage. She opened her door, saying to Mick as she stepped out, “I’ll see you at the house.”
“OK.” He watched her walk away. She seemed tired. Maybe she was doing too much. They had started regular supply runs as soon as the weather broke and she was on just about every one. She also worked her ass off in the garden or catching fish or organizing their remaining supplies. He certainly didn’t help keeping her up late. Not tonight. He was going to get her to bed early. And leave her alone.
“You gonna stare at your girl or help me unload this shit?” Dylan’s voice brought him from his reverie.
“Why are you such an asshole, Dylan?” Mick walked to the back of the Jeep and grabbed two cans of diesel.
“What?” Dylan took two cans and followed Mick into the barn.
“You’ve been acting like an asshole since you got here.” Mick set the diesel next to the cans that were already there and walked back to the Jeep. “Since Sarah and I saved your ass back at that school.” He grabbed two more cans. “So, you should be grateful and not such a fucking dick.”
“I have to take orders from kids 20 years younger than me about what I eat and when I bathe and what I do and you expect me to be happy about it?” Dylan grabbed the last two cans.
“I expect you to be happy that you’re alive and have something to eat and someplace to bathe.” Mick grabbed a couple cases of water from the back. “I expect you to show some appreciation. I expect you not to act like an asshole all the time.”
“I pull my own weight around here,” Dylan said, stopping to stare at Mick.
Mick nodded toward the still half full Jeep. “You do, but that’s not the point.” He grabbed a case of dented cans of vegetables and a box filled with beans. “We all need to do our shares and that includes getting along and not acting like a jerk all the time.” He put the supplies in the barn and headed back to the Jeep. He grabbed his backpack and a basket half filled with random items. “Think on that,” he said to Dylan as he walked away.
♦
Sarah walked into the cabin, pausing at the door. Becca and Dominic were sitting with Elizabeth and Mikey, teaching the kids something judging by the books and papers on the floor. Dominic had his leg stretched out, his brace beside him. A childhood injury had weakened his leg, forcing him to wear a brace 80% of the time. Becca still looked weak and pale from her ordeal over the winter, when she contracted what they believed was pneumonia and almost died. Thankfully, April was a paramedic and had an idea of how to treat her. Becca was just getting her strength back.
Julianne and Jack were in the kitchen, taking their turns at kitchen duty. Sarah walked in and deposited the baskets on the table. “Here’s some stuff,” she said. “Maybe you can use something for dinner.”
“How’d you do out there?” Jack asked.
“Slim pickings,” she replied. “We’re going to have to go further out for supplies.”
“We’re getting low on flour,” Julianne said. “Almost out.”
“I’ll note that on the list,” Sarah said. “Where’s Ryan?”
“Perimeter check,” Jack answered. “He and April left about ten minutes ago.”
Sarah nodded. “Thanks.” She adjusted her backpack on her shoulder and headed to the room she shared with Mick.
She sat on the bed and sighed. Space was tighter now since she and Mick had rescued Dylan, April, Julianne and Dominic from the roof of an elementary school just six months prior. The same place they had discovered that they were more than friends. They tried to keep their relationship secret, but fooled no one, especially Ryan, Mick’s brother, who had thoughts of claiming Sarah as his own. Who had saved Sarah on the very first day she realized there was an undead problem. He took the news well, considering the tight quarters in which they lived, a cabin once owned by Mick and Ryan’s uncle.
Mick and Sarah had one room; Ryan had another. The rest of the men shared a room with two sets of bunk beds while the women and girls took the other. It was a tight fit, but what bothered Sarah the most was the lack of privacy. There
was nowhere she could be really alone. Suddenly, she grabbed her backpack and left the room. “Which way did Ryan and April go?” She asked Jack.
“They went north, towards the fields.”
“Thanks.” Sarah turned to go.
“Dinner’s almost ready so don’t go too far,” Julianne said.
“’Kay.” Sarah waved as she walked out the back door.
She looked toward the fields then headed in the opposite direction. She wanted privacy.
She moved quickly through the trees, her surprisingly fast stride eating up ground. She walked deep into the forest, stopping after nearly five minutes of steady walking. She looked around, couldn’t even see the buildings from where she had stopped. She pulled her backpack off and leaned against a tree, sliding down until she was in a crouching position. She set the backpack on the ground in front of her and unzipped it. Taking a deep breath, she reached in and pulled out one of the boxes she had salvaged from the supermarket.
She stared at the pregnancy test, a riot of emotions coursing through her: fear, anger, dread, shock. She held the box, her gaze far away, until the sound of a bird chirping in the tree above her snapped her out of her reverie. “For Christ’s sake, just do it,” she hissed to herself. She tore open the box, removed the plastic covering from the test. Holding it in one hand she raised herself up, unfastened her jeans and slid them to her knees. Squatting back down, she removed the cap from the test. Taking a deep breath, she moved it into position. Exhaling slowly, she went, biting her bottom lip.
When she finished, she put the cap back on the test and pulled her pants back up. Three minutes, she thought. Only three minutes. She stared at the test.
Noise in the underbrush startled her. Too big for an animal. She shoved the test and packaging deep into her backpack and stood up, reaching for her pipe. It wasn’t there. In her rush to get into the woods, she forgot it. “Shit!” She exclaimed softly. Her hand moved to the knife in her belt. Then she heard voices. The dead didn’t talk. She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and flung the backpack on her shoulder. Affecting a casual pose, she moved in the direction of the voices.
