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

by Dziekan, PJ

  She didn’t see Dylan that night and she was disappointed. She had hoped he would stop by and tell her what he found out. When the food and wood were delivered, by a young man she’d never seen, Sarah and Donna carried it in. Sarah built a fire while Donna prepared the food. Sarah, who hadn’t eaten all day, waited eagerly for the Spam and canned beets.

  As they ate, Sarah broached the subject of leaving. “Are you happy here?”

  Donna shrugged. “Not really. But what else is there?”

  “If I left, would you want to come with me?”

  Donna’s eyes widened. “Where would we go?”

  “Find a cabin in the woods,” Sarah said vaguely. “No one would force you to do anything you don’t want.”

  A rueful smile on her face, Donna shook her head. “It’s just a dream, Sarah.”

  “No, it’s not. We could go. We could get out of here.” She looked around the room. Pam and Lacey were behind the closed door of their bedroom. Sarah hadn’t seen Lacey since her stint in the cage, but Donna said she was fine.

  Sarah leaned in and spoke softly. “We’re leaving in the next couple days. I want you to come with us.”

  Donna shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. You will. When we leave, you’re coming with us.”

  Sarah watched as the defeat in her eyes was replaced by hope. “No one will judge me?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No, Donna. We’re all equal.”

  Donna took Sarah’s hands in hers. “OK. OK, I’ll go with you.”

  Sarah smiled. “Good.”

  “Why are you here, then?” Donna asked, releasing Sarah’s hands. She took her fork in her hand and began picking at the food left on her plate. “I mean, why come here if you’re not planning to stay?”

  Sarah bit her lip. Did she tell her the truth? She leaned in close. “We’re looking for a friend. We heard he was here.” It felt like a weight was lifted from her chest. She didn’t like lying. She never did.

  “But there’ve been no new people in a long time.”

  “That’s what we’ve been told,” Sarah concurred. “But I think he’s here.”

  “Where?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know. But I can’t leave until I find out one way or another.”

  The bedroom door opened and Pam stepped out. Sarah sat back, shaking her head slightly. Donna nodded once. “Pam, how’s Lacey?” She asked.

  “She’s sleeping. She’ll be fine.” Pam grabbed a leather jacket from the coat rack by the door. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.” She said the last with a smirk. She slammed the door behind her as she went.

  “I’m going to check on Lacey,” Donna said, uncurling from the couch. She put half of the remaining Spam and beets on a plate. With a smile at Sarah, she knocked on the bedroom door, entering after a moment.

  Sarah sat back on the couch and closed her eyes. She hoped she did the right thing in telling Donna. She wanted to take her out of here. Lacey, too. Even Pam. Take them all out of this place, show them a better way to live.

  ♦

  A loud crash made Sarah’s eyes fly open. She saw Donna sprawled on the floor on her back, her hands held out in supplication. Before she could comprehend what she was seeing, a hand banded around her arm and pulled her to her feet, her head snapping back from the force.

  “Let’s go.” Austin’s harsh voice penetrated her brain.

  “No, Austin, she’s sick. Let her go!” Donna pleaded from the floor. “I’ll go with you!”

  “I don’t want you; I want her.” He pulled Sarah and she stumbled, yanking her arm.

  “Let me go, Austin,” Sarah growled. “I don’t want to go with you.”

  “Who gives a fuck?” He snarled. His hand tightened on her arm. “You’re coming with me now.”

  “The fuck I am.” She swung her free hand, but he easily ducked the blow. She brought her knee up; he sidestepped and she hit air.

  He released her suddenly and she staggered back a step. “Are you going to come with me or am I going to have to hurt you?”

  “Fuck you, Austin, I’ll never –” His fist hit her square on the jaw and she fell back over the coffee table, the food they had set aside for Lacey scattering on the floor. Her vision blurred; she didn’t see the kick that knocked her out.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The floor was hard and cold. Her eyes slitted open and she moaned at the flickering light of a candle. Her stomach twisted and she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly, hoping not to throw up. She rolled to her side with a groan, her hand coming up to her head.

  “Wake up!”

  She cringed at Austin’s command. Blinking rapidly, she opened her eyes, saw him standing above her. “What?” She rasped.

  “I said wake up!”

  She slid her hands along the rough floor. Concrete. “Where am I?” She asked, pushing herself slowly to a sitting position. She looked around, saw stairs. A basement.

  “Right where I want you.” She watched in horror as he moved forward, unzipping his jeans as he advanced on her.

  “Fuck you, Austin.” Despite the pain in her head, she scrambled up, stumbling against the wall. “Stay away from me.”

  He laughed, the cruel sound echoing off the walls. “Not gonna happen, sweetheart.” He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly to him.

  She struggled, her free arm coming up to hit the side of his head. Her blows were weak, ineffectual and Austin laughed. She formed her hand into a claw and racked the side of his face with her jagged nails, catching his eye.

  “You bitch!” He released her immediately, his hands going to his injured face.

  She turned, sprinting for the stairs. Only a few feet away from escape, he tackled her from behind, his hand tangling in her braid, a painful tug on her scalp. She went down hard next to the stairs, his full weight landing on her, pushing her down. Her forehead bounced on the concrete and she cried out as her vision started to grey. No! She fought the oncoming darkness, but it overwhelmed her.

  She came to only moments later, on her side. Austin was standing above her, cursing as he wiped his eye with a dirty rag. She tried to inch away, moving slowly, but she cried out involuntarily as a pain knifed through her head.

  Austin dropped the rag. “You fucking bitch!” He spat. He began to kick out at her. She managed to avoid most of them but took a direct hit to her thigh. As she doubled over in pain, she missed her chance to avoid the next one. Directly into her abdomen, the force of the blow flipping her to her back.

  He dropped to his knees, straddling her waist. She felt him hard and pressing against her and she squirmed. His hands gripped the neck of her tee. They pulled, the shirt separating, her bra the only coverage she had left.

  Her hands flailed around, looking for something, anything, as his hands pushed up her bra, fastening on her breasts, squeezing until she whimpered in pain. “Yeah,” he muttered as he ground against her.

  She stopped moving, stretching her arms as far as she could. His fist found her mouth, mashing her lips against her teeth. She tasted blood. “Fight back!” He demanded. He hit her again and her vision faded in and out. Her questing fingers finally touched something under the basement stairs. Something long, hard. She closed her fingers around it, lost it, closed them again so tight she could feel the object imprinting itself on her skin.

  Austin slid down her body, sitting on her thighs as he fumbled with her jeans. Snap open, zipped down. Sarah knew it was now or never. She pulled her arm from under the stairs. Somewhere in her mind, she registered that she was holding a screwdriver. With a scream, she plunged the screwdriver into his thigh, yanking it downward. A geyser of blood erupted from his leg at the same time he screamed and fell sideways, both hands clamping the wound.

  His good leg kicked out, pummeling her as he screamed. His blood splashed her face as it pulsed from the wound. She watched, detached, as the geyser slowed, his screams becoming weaker and weaker. I think I killed h
im, she thought before her eyes closed again, blackness settling over her.

  ♦

  “Sarah! Oh, shit!”

  A man’s voice. She knew that voice. But it wasn’t “Mick?” She whispered hoarsely. Her eyes opened, closing immediately as the beam from a flashlight hit her directly.

  “Turn that thing off!”

  The voice was closer. She opened her eyes again. “Dylan?” She croaked.

  “Sarah, oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Dylan pulled his jacket off and covered her naked torso. “Are you…Did he…?”

  “No.” Her voice was barely audible. She cleared her throat, the pain making her wince. “No.” Her voice was slightly stronger. “Is he dead?”

  “Yeah, he’s dead.” Another man. Sarah tried to focus on him, her vision fuzzy. It was Harry. “No great loss,” Harry said, nudging Austin’s body with his foot.

  “Can you sit up?” Dylan asked.

  “Yeah.” Her hands on the floor, she pressed, barely lifting her torso. Dylan’s arm slid behind her back, supporting her until she was upright. His jacket started to slide down and she clasped it to her chest. She took a breath, a shallow one. The last deep breath she took nearly had her passing out. “Get me out of here.” She held her free arm up.

  Harry took one arm. She sensed someone else standing at her other side. Sarah looked up to see Donna, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, Sarah,” she sobbed. “I went and got your dad as soon as I could.”

  “Thanks, Donna.” With Dylan and Harry’s assistance, she stood, wobbling on her feet. Dylan held her until she steadied. “Turn your back,” she said to the guys. They turned, Dylan still holding her arm. She used her free hand to pull her bra down over her breasts, the pressure on her bruises making her gasp. “Let go.” She tugged on the arm that Dylan still held. He let go and she slowly put the coat on, holding it closed with an arm over her aching abdomen.

  She pushed her long hair out of her face. It had come loose from its braid in the struggle. She looked at Dylan. “Why’s he here?” She nodded her head towards Harry.

  “I was talking to him when Donna found me.” He looked at Harry. “He’s going to take us to Ryan and get us out of here. I told him he could come back with us.”

  Sarah turned her head to Harry so fast a sharp pain lanced through her skull and her vision went black for a second. “Ryan’s alive?”

  “We brought a guy in about a week ago.” Harry shrugged. “Might be your guy, might not.”

  “Why are you helping us?” She asked.

  He looked away. “Because I didn’t speak up when I should have.” He kicked Austin’s inert body. “We better get out of here. There’s a limited window before I’m expected on guard duty.”

  “Let’s go.” Sarah took a step forward and nearly dropped from the abuse her body had taken. Dylan reached out to steady her, but she waved him off.

  “She gonna be OK?” Harry asked Dylan. “This ain’t gonna be a walk in the park.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Sarah said through gritted teeth. She put a hand on the railing and began to climb the stairs, each step sending a shard of pain through her body. “Let’s get Ryan and get the fuck out of this hellhole.”

  Harry took the lead when they got upstairs. “The slave pens are down the street. If your man is here, that’s where he is.”

  “Slave pens?” Sarah asked, a growl in her voice.

  Harry didn’t address her remark. “We gotta move fast and we gotta move quiet. Can you all do that?” In the dim light of the moon he saw the three of them nod. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Sarah said. “What about guards? How do we get past them?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just follow me and be quiet.” Harry started moving, Sarah behind him. Donna followed with Dylan bringing up the rear. They moved quickly past the abandoned houses, Sarah gritting her teeth, stifling a moan. They finally stopped just past the cage where Lacey was held the night before.

  “That building there,” Harry whispered, pointing to a low metal building set off from the rest by a tall chain link fence. “Everyone ready?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He trotted across the street, the rest following quickly behind, joining him as he squatted next to a beat-up truck.

  Sarah studied the building. One man-sized door seemed to be the only entrance. “Is he in there?” She asked.

  “Yeah. Along with a whole bunch of them.”

  “Them?” Donna’s voice held a touch of hysteria.

  “No one’s in the cage, so they’re all in the building.”

  “You have zombies guarding them?” Sarah asked.

  “Works pretty well. And we don’t waste manpower.”

  “How do we get past them?’ Dylan shifted on his feet. “We don’t have any weapons.”

  “There are weapons inside. Just inside the door, there are a couple cattle prods. Hit them in the neck with a full dose and they go down for about five minutes. They might be dead, but their nerves aren’t.” Harry spat on the ground. “Ready?”

  “What if they don’t stay down?” Sarah asked, her hand on Harry’s arm. “What then?”

  He pulled his coat back to reveal the semi-automatic on his hip. “That’s what this is for.”

  “Where are the prods?” She asked, getting ready to fight. She had to see this through.

  “On the table to the right, as soon as you go through the door,” Harry explained. “There’s another cage surrounding the room where the slaves –” Sarah narrowed her eyes and Harry corrected. “—your friend is. Poke the prod through the fence, zap the thing, and then move on to the next. Just don’t hit the metal with the live prod. You’ll get messed up.” Harry handed Dylan a five-cell flashlight.

  “I – I don’t think I can do that,” Donna whispered, her face white with fear.

  “You can stay here,” Sarah said. “Keep an eye out.” Donna nodded. Sarah opened her mouth to tell Donna not to worry, but all that emerged was a sharp cry. A pain knifed through her abdomen, so strong she dropped to one knee.

  “Sarah, are you OK?” Dylan asked, eyes searching her face, seeing her eyes tightly shut, her mouth grimacing.

  “Fine,” she managed. The pain had eased a bit. She opened her eyes. “Let’s get this done.”

  Sarah, Harry and Dylan ran to the door and crouched down. Harry counted silently down from three, opening the door on one. Dylan flicked on the light. The zombies started to moan as soon as the door opened, their gnarled hands gripping the fence, broken fingers pushing through the links.

  Two cattle prods lay on the table along with a gun. Sarah scooped up the weapon and a prod. She slipped the gun in her coat pocket and flicked on the prod. She watched as Harry took the other one, turned it on, and pressed the prongs to the neck of the nearest creature. It fell with a loud thud. She pressed her prod to the neck of a fat female, her clothes torn and bloodied. She dropped, her feet hitting the cage as they kicked out.

  The ten creatures were down within a minute. Harry turned off the prod and stuck his hand through the loop around the tool. “We got about four and half, five minutes,” he said as he unlocked the carabineer clip holding the gate closed. He lifted the latch and opened the gate.

  Sarah turned her prod off and handed it to Dylan. She walked through the gate as quickly as she could. It unnerved her to walk past the zombies when she knew they weren’t truly incapacitated. But she trusted what Harry said. What choice did she have?

  She put her hand on the door knob just as a fresh pain lanced through her abdomen. She bit her lip as she let out a whimper. While the pain was easing, she turned the knob, praying that everything that had happened was worth it.

  There was barely enough light to see two figures, one lying on a cot, the other sitting upright, staring at the door. “Ryan?” She asked.

  “S—Sarah?” The seated one swung his feet over the cot and stood, wobbling before taking four steps to the door.

  Sarah gasped when she saw him. Filthy, bearded, gaunt
to the point of emaciation. He threw his arms around her, pulling her to him, crushing her against him. Her next gasp was one of pain. “Ryan,” she rasped, her attempts to pull away causing fresh pain.

  He pulled back, releasing her and looking closely at her face. “What happened to you? Where’s Mick? How did you find me?”

  She held up a hand. “Later. We have to get you out of here; we don’t have much time.”

  “Wait, we have to take Bobby.” Ryan moved back into the room and bent over the prone man.

  Sarah turned her head to the zombies, still relatively motionless on the floor. She could see a few twitching limbs, but they were still down. “Hurry up, Ryan.”

  She turned her head to see him approaching her, his arm wrapped around the shoulder of a man about her age, just as filthy and gaunt as Ryan was. His eyes were dazed and somewhat unfocused. Until he saw the zombies twitching on the ground. He started to scream, hoarse croaks that became louder and louder.

  “Shut him up!” Harry hissed.

  Sarah clasped a hand over his mouth, mashing his lips against his teeth. The sudden motion made her back spasm in pain. “Quiet!” She whispered harshly. “You be quiet or I’ll lock you back in that room.” Her gaze drilled into his, watching as his eyes focused on hers. “I got what I came for; I can leave you behind in a heartbeat. Do you understand?” She felt more than saw his nod. “Will you be quiet?” Another nod. She slipped her hand from his mouth. “Go!”

  Ryan and Bobby moved past her, walking gingerly around the zombies on the floor. One twitching hand brushed Bobby’s foot and he let out a squeal. Ryan bade him quiet as they left the bodies behind.

  Sarah waited until they were nearly to the fence before she started after them. With her first step, another pain assaulted her, stealing her breath. Her mouth opened on a silent scream as she dropped to her hands and knees. One of her hands landed on the outstretched leg of a zombie. The leg shifted beneath her hand, but she didn’t feel it. The pain radiated through her body and she whimpered as she tried to get it under control.