Walking With The Dead (Book 2): Home with the Dead

by Dziekan, PJ

  “Positive.”

  “OK.” He dropped the rifle to his side and turned, walking slowly down the path.

  April watched him walk, his pace picking up as the ground became less rocky. She turned back to the strangers. “Throw your weapons towards me,” she called.

  “We don’t have any,” the man answered.

  “No guns, no knives, no bats?”

  “Nothing.” The woman’s voice broke.

  How were they still alive? April thought. “Walk slowly towards me,” she said. “Hands in the air.” April held the gun up as they moved through the brush, hands up, stumbling occasionally until they emerged from the brush onto the path.

  “Stop.” April commanded and they did. “Spread out so I can see you.”

  The group stood in a line. A tall bearded man, maybe 30. A young girl of about 10. An older girl, maybe 15. A skinny blonde, probably in her early 30s. They were all filthy, covered in dirt and debris. They looked half-starved, eyes filled with fear, resignation, and despair. April was reminded of herself months earlier, before Sarah and Mick had rescued her and the others from the roof.

  “You can come back to our camp. We’ll give you food and water, let you rest up.” She watched as the man turned to the woman, hope flaring in his eyes. “You’ll have to move on, though.”

  The woman’s shoulders sagged. “We’re so tired,” she whispered. “We’ve been running for so long. Our food ran out three days ago, our water yesterday. We just want –” Her voice broke. “—We just want to be safe.”

  April felt her resolve weaken. She had to ignore that feeling. “You’ll be safe for a few days.” She motioned with the gun. “C’mon. Single file down the path. Try anything stupid and I will kill you.” She hoped she could do it. She had never killed a live human.

  They walked slowly down the path, the guy in front, the kids, then the woman. April followed, the safety off the gun, but holding it at her side. The path was a little too uneven to keep it pointed at them the entire hike. She hoped Jack had the shed cleared out.

  “I’m Michelle,” the woman said. “Steven is in front and the girls are Christa and Lily.”

  “You all related?”

  She shook her head. “We were part of a larger group. We had a nice camp. Then we -- we were attacked by a herd of them.” She shook her head. “I don’t know where they came from. We thought they were all still mostly frozen. We’re all that’s left.”

  “Sorry.” April saw they were getting close to the cabin. “I’m April.”

  “Thank you, April.”

  “Just don’t get comfortable. You can stay a few days, that’s it.”

  Jack was waiting at the end of the path, where it veered into the woods. He had the rifle up to his eye, watching the group come down the path. The strangers raised their hands when they saw him. “It’s ready,” he said.

  “The others?” April asked.

  “Inside.” Jack tracked the group with the rifle as they passed. They were full of tension, the kids looking at the ground, trying not to make eye contact with him.

  Michelle and Steven flicked their gazes to Jack then they skittered away. Michelle spotted the house in the distance. “You have a house?” She whispered. “A real house?”

  “You’re not going inside.” April said quickly. “See that shed? That’s where you’re headed.” She moved ahead of the group and walked to the shed. She opened the door and saw that Jack had left a bunch of canned goods, a bit of deer jerky and a case of water inside. There were blankets folded on the floor alongside one of their propane powered cook stoves and a few candles. She looked at Jack and nodded.

  “Oh my God!” Steven exclaimed as he walked through the door.

  Michelle peered around the kids. “Oh, God, thank you!” She said when she saw the stack of cans. She quickly turned to April, stopping when April brought the gun up in one smooth motion.

  “You’re welcome,” April said. “Now go and get some rest.” Her voice was soft, but she didn’t lower the gun until they were all inside. “You have to stay here.” She lowered the gun and moved to the door. She started to push it closed.

  “Wait, you’re locking us in here?” Steven said, his hands already opening a bottle of water.

  “If you want to stay here, then yes. If not, the road’s that way.” April jerked her head back.

  Michelle held an arm in front of Steven. “No. No, it’s fine. We’re grateful.”

  “Hey,” Jack said from behind the rifle. April stopped with the door half closed. “I didn’t know how old your kids were, but I threw a couple toys and books in there for them.”

  “Thank you.” Michelle managed a tremulous smile. “Thank you very much.”

  April closed the door, fastening the padlock on the hasp.

  Jack lowered the gun. “Now what?”

  April sighed. She didn’t know.

  ♦

  “I found some dog food,” Becca said, carrying two cans from the utility room of the house they were checking.

  “We’re not that desperate yet.” Mick opened another cabinet in the kitchen. Empty. “But we’ll keep them anyway.”

  She dumped them in her bag. “Any luck?” She asked, pulling out a drawer and finding nothing but knives. She began to pick through them.

  “A can of anchovies. A can of mushrooms.”

  “Find some cheese and we can have cracker pizzas.”

  “Ha ha.”

  Becca pulled a chef’s knife and meat cleaver from the drawer. “These aren’t bad.”

  Mick looked up. “Could be handy.” He opened another cupboard door, the last one. “Damn!” He slammed the door.

  “There are more houses, Mick.”

  “I know.” He stood from his crouching position.

  “Let’s go check another.”

  He shook his head. “It’s getting dark. Let’s just head back.”

  “OK.” She slid the knives into her pack. “We did find some stuff, though.”

  “Yeah, but not enough for a week.”

  “What else are we going to do while we wait? Sarah took the cards.” She eyed Mick. “Bitch.” He laughed like she hoped he would.

  They drove back to the gas station through the gloom. “You get to pick tonight’s dinner,” Becca remarked. “I picked last night.”

  “Whatever.” His earlier good cheer had faded. He slumped against the wall, scratching his stubbled cheek. He needed a shave. “What do you think is happening?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m sure she’s fine.” She grabbed a couple of cans at random.

  He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “I should be there.”

  “Mick…”

  “I know, I know. But I should, Becca. She’s my – my – she’s carrying my child.”

  “What are you hoping for?” She tried to get his mind off of Sarah.

  “What?”

  “Boy or girl?”

  Mick shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it. A healthy baby, I guess.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “Sarah’s worried.” Mick shifted on the hard ground. “She’s afraid something will go wrong or the baby will be sick.”

  “All normal worries, just a little more so nowadays.” Becca set the cans of potatoes and kidney beans near the small fire. “But Sarah’s strong. She’s probably the strongest woman I’ve ever known. She’ll be fine. The baby will be fine.” She smiled at Mick. “Stop stressing.”

  He smiled back. “Easier said than done.”

  “I know, Mick,” she said softly, stirring the beans. “But you have to try. For her.”

  “But when I’m with you, I can worry, right?”

  Becca laughed. “Of course. I won’t think you’re a girlie man.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sarah struggled against the arms that held her, her legs kicking back, finding nothing but air. “Stop it!” A vaguely familiar voice hissed in her ear. She struggled harder. She was not going to be put i
n that cage. His arm clamped tighter around her, a leg crossing hers so that she couldn’t kick. Her ass fell against his crotch and she immediately stopped struggling.

  “Are you done?” He whispered. She nodded as much as she could. “Are you going to be quiet?” She nodded again.

  He released her. Sarah spun around. “Harry?”

  “What are you doing out here?” His eyes flicked left and right.

  “I – I couldn’t sleep and I just…” She trailed off, looking at the ground.

  “Forget what you saw. Go back to your house. Better yet, get out of this town.” He ran a hand through his short graying hair.

  “Why is she in there?” Sarah couldn’t help but ask.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He grabbed her arm. “You need to go. Now. Your dad won’t be able to protect you.” She saw pain in his eyes, deep abiding pain.

  “What happened?” She asked softly.

  He shook his head. “You just need to go. Now.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Sarah searched his eyes. “Why are you even here?”

  “You just need to go. This is no place for a girl like you. Get out while you can.” He started to walk away.

  “Wait!” Sarah called softly. “What about Lacey?”

  “She’ll be fine,” he said harshly. “I’m watching over her.”

  “Thank you.” She touched his arm and he flinched. She walked rapidly down the sidewalk to the house.

  Donna was still sleeping on the couch, curled up in a ball. Sarah collapsed in the chair next to her, the adrenaline leaving her body, leaving her exhausted. She closed her eyes, letting the crackling of the fire lull her to sleep.

  ♦

  A door slammed. Sarah’s eyes flew open and she sat up in the chair, a pain lancing through her back from sleeping upright all night. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes just in time to see Pam disappear into her room, slamming that door as well. Sarah looked over at Donna, who was still sprawled on the couch, the blanket half on the floor. Sarah pulled herself from the chair with a groan. She pulled the blanket back over Donna, hefted her pack and headed out to find Dylan.

  The morning was cold and she pulled her jacket tighter. She saw someone scurrying down the street, away from her, towards the place she last saw Lacey. Shuddering, she turned and walked to the house where Dylan slept. She got there in just a minute, walking quickly through the cold. She knocked on the door, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth.

  The door opened and an old man peered out, his cheeks spotted with grey stubble, his bald pate shining with a greasy sheen. “Well, hello, girlie,” he said with a leer. His hand immediately went to his crotch. Sarah shuddered. “You gals making house calls now?”

  “I’m looking for Dylan.”

  “I can do you better than Dylan.” His hand massaged his crotch.

  “He’s my father, asshole,” Sarah bit out.

  “Oh.” His hand kept moving. “If you like that kind of stuff, I’m game.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Sarah pushed him aside and strode over the threshold. “Dyl – Dad!” She called. “Dad, are you in here?” She crinkled her nose. The room smelled of cat piss and beer farts.

  “Sarah?” Dylan walked from the bathroom, hurriedly closing the door so the odor didn’t leak into the already foul-smelling room.

  “Hi, Dad. Can we take a walk?”

  Dylan saw the tension in her face. “Sure, hon. Let me get my bag.”

  Dylan grabbed his pack from the floor by the couch. “Where are you going?” Ray asked.

  “I’m taking a walk with my daughter. I’ll be back soon.”

  “If someone comes for you, what am I supposed to tell them?”

  “That I went for a walk with my daughter and I’ll be back soon.” He guided Sarah from the room back into the chilly outdoors.

  “How the hell can you stand the smell in there?’’ Sarah asked, taking a deep breath of the outside air.

  “I gag every time I walk in there, and then I get used to it.”

  Sarah shuddered. “That’s disgusting.”

  Dylan shrugged. “No worse than us getting used to the smell of rotting corpses.”

  The smell hit her then, the odor of decomposing flesh. The smell that had settled into her nose, that she had forgotten about. Her gorge rose and she clapped a hand over her mouth, racing around the house. She barely made it to her knees before she threw up, mostly bile and water, since all she had eaten in the last day was a handful of crackers.

  Dylan squatted beside her, a handkerchief in his hand. “Here,” he said softly, placing it in her outstretched hand.

  Sarah wiped her mouth, even as her stomach still heaved. After a moment, when her stomach finally settled, she looked up at Dylan. With a soft smile, he pressed an open bottle of water in her hand. She took a swig, swished it around to get the foul taste from her mouth and spit it out. She swallowed her next drink, the water soothing her throat. She wiped her mouth again with the handkerchief, looking up at Dylan. “Thanks, you ass.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “Made me smell that shit again.” She pushed off the wall, standing. “I’m pregnant, Dylan. It doesn’t take much.” She took another drink of water as she scraped dirt over her mess with her foot. “Come on, let’s walk.”

  They walked down the street, finding themselves back at the picnic table. Dylan wanted to talk, but she made him wait until they were seated, where she could see if anyone was watching them.

  “What did you find out?” He asked.

  She told him what she had seen the night before. Lacey caged, Harry warning her off. She didn’t tell him about Donna, how she took Sarah’s place and got brutalized for her kindness. That was Sarah’s shame.

  “Jesus Christ,” Dylan whispered when she finished. “This place is seriously messed up.”

  “I know.” Sarah rubbed her forehead. “We need to find out what happened to Ryan and get the hell out of here.”

  “Ray said they use slave labor.”

  “What?” Sarah’s head flew up.

  “Guys without any real skills. They’re slaves.” He sighed. “They work them until they die then go find new ones.”

  “Do you think…?” A kernel of hope began to grow.

  “Maybe.”

  “How do we find out? Where do they keep the slaves? We should go check.” Sarah stood.

  “Whoa, whoa.” Dylan took her arm and tugged her back to a seated position. “We need to be careful, Sarah. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “We may not have a lot of time,” Sarah whispered. “For him or me.”

  “I’ll find out today,” Dylan said. “I’ll try to find Harry. He seems like he might be OK.”

  “Be careful, Dylan. This place…” She shook her head.

  “I know, Sarah. You be careful, too, OK? No more stupid chances.”

  She smiled. “OK, Dad.”

  ♦

  Sarah, not used to being idle, was restless as she waited with Donna. She talked to the woman, flipped thru magazines, tried to read. Finally, when Donna curled up on the couch for a nap, Sarah got up and began to explore the house. Most everything for day to day survival was gone. No food, no tools, no weapons. Sarah shook her head as she roamed from room to room. How could Bill treat people like this? You could lead without deprivation, without fear.

  She made her way back to the living room, where Donna still slept. She knew she shouldn’t do it, but she couldn’t stay in this house another minute. She shrugged her pack on her back and slipped out the front door.

  The day had warmed up, the afternoon sun bright, but no one was outside to take advantage of it. She walked to the sidewalk, standing there, letting the sun warm her. She walked towards Dylan’s place. Maybe he heard something. She pounded on the door, but no one answered. She blew out a breath as she thought about what to do next.

  Pam came out of a house a few doors away. Sarah called out to her, walking towards the younger woman. Pam turn
ed her head and saw Sarah. She hesitated, walked a few more steps then stopped, her body language indicating irritation.

  “Hi, Pam,” Sarah said brightly. Now that she was in front of the young girl, she didn’t know what to say.

  “Hi,” she said sullenly. Under the heavy make-up and dyed hair, Sarah could see she was a pretty girl. Young, barely out of her teens, if that.

  “Are you heading back to the house?”

  “Yeah.” She started walking.

  “Not very talkative, are you?” Sarah fell in beside her.

  Pam shrugged. “Nothing to say to you.”

  Sarah sighed. “Do you like it here?”

  “It’s OK.”

  “Is it just me or are you like this with everyone?” Pam didn’t answer. “I’m just trying to be friendly, Pam. I don’t see a lot of women here. I just want to make friends.”

  “I don’t,” Pam said vehemently. “I just want you to leave so Austin quits talking about you.”

  Sarah gasped. “I don’t want Austin, Pam. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  “You will, though.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I promise you; I want nothing to do with him and I never will. You shouldn’t, either. He’s not a nice man.” The image of Donna’s battered face went through her mind.

  “He’s good to me. He gives me extra food.”

  “That’s not good, Pam,” she said, her voice low. “He’s controlling you. That’s wrong.”

  “What do you know?”

  Sarah rested a hand on Pam’s arm. “I know there are places out there where women aren’t whored out for food. I know there are places out there where a woman has equal say. I know there are places out there where you don’t have to wear six layers and bundle in five blankets to stay warm. I came from there.”

  Pam pulled her arm away. “You’re not there now. You’re here. And you’ll do whatever it takes to survive.”

  “I don’t think so.” Sarah shook her head.

  Pam’s smile was cruel. “You will. We all had to. You’re no better than any of us.”

  “I’m not saying I’m better, just that there’s a better way.”

  “Not here, there isn’t. There’s this way, the way we live. Sooner or later, you’ll accept that.” Pam walked away, leaving Sarah to stare at her retreating back.