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

by Dziekan, PJ

  The woman was five feet away. Sarah took a breath and stepped forward, swinging the bar. The hook caught the creature in the side of her head, brains splattering the ground. She dropped and the old guy stumbled over her body, falling face first to the pavement, his nose making a crunching sound as it met the ground. Sarah took a step to the left as she swung, dropping the young girl with a backhanded blow. A jab to the forehead took care of the final standing zombie.

  She felt something on her boot. The old man was reaching for her. She stomped on his hand and she speared the top of his head with the pry bar. Taking a breath, she looked up. The mass of creatures was closer. Much closer.

  A quick look behind her showed Bobby behind the wheel of the truck, cables joining the two engines. She turned her head back in time to see a zombie that was no more than flesh stretched tight over bone just two feet from her, its hand six inches from her face. She batted the hand aside, bringing the bar up and hitting the creature in the chin. Its head popped off with a loud crunch and dropped to the ground before rolling across the road. She stepped back, swinging again, catching a long-haired ghoul on the temple, not bothering to watch it drop before her arm was moving again, this time taking out a man in a bloodied suit, his scalp hanging over one dead eye. The rest of the zombies were still five feet away so she rolled her shoulders and took a breath.

  She moved quickly, dispatching the creatures without thought. Slashing, swinging, stabbing – it was all second nature. She heard the truck engine roar and let out a victory yell just before she sidestepped a preteen zombie, kicking it to the ground where she stomped on its head before moving to the next.

  They were coming faster. It wasn’t speed, but the sheer numbers that were bringing them closer and closer. “This was a dumb idea,” she muttered as she brought the bar down on the skull of a former little old lady then swung up to hit a man wearing the remains of a jumpsuit. She thrust forward into the skull of a woman in a nightgown. The zombie fell backwards, taking her weapon. “Fuck!” She cried out as she moved back quickly until she was pressed up against a car. Her eyes on the creatures advancing, she flicked open her holster and pulled her gun. She didn’t have enough bullets to take them all out. “Really dumb idea, Sarah.”

  A horn sounded. The roar of the engine made her smile. The bus appeared, barreling through the creatures, crushing many under the tires. “Come on!” Bobby yelled through the open door.

  Still gripping the gun, Sarah leapt over the bodies and got on the bus, holding onto the grab bar as Bobby positioned the bus to block most of the street. As soon as he shut down the engine, she jumped out, stepping in front of the bus and aiming at the crowding zombies. “Get the truck,” she said as she fired, taking out the closest zombie. “Hurry.”

  Bobby jogged to the still running truck and leapt inside. He pulled out, the motion slamming the driver door closed. He again drove through the horde before backing the truck into the empty space until it was practically nose to nose with the school bus. Barely an inch separated the two vehicles.

  “Don’t think they’ll get through that,” he said with a grin.

  Sarah looked at him with a grin of her own. “We’ll have to reinforce but it’s good for now.” She ran the back of her hand over her forehead and saw the smear of blood and brains on her skin. “Ugh,” she muttered. She shrugged her pack from her back and dug inside for the anti-bacterial wipes. She pulled the wipes out and positioned the bag on her back again. “Let’s head back.” She pulled a wipe from the pack and started to clean her face. “Maybe we can get the other end.” Bobby laughed.

  They walked back towards the apartment building, the sounds of moaning and gnashing teeth ignored as they made plans to take over the town.

  Halfway back to their home base, they saw a figure running towards them, a bat swinging from his hand. “Uh oh,” Bobby whispered. “Somebody’s in trouble.”

  “Shut up,” Sarah said with a laugh as Mick approached.

  “What happened? Are you OK?” He asked before he even reached them.

  “’Morning, Mick. How are you?” She smiled.

  “Why’d you disappear?”

  Sarah shrugged. “We did some exploring. And we sealed off half the town.”

  “What?”

  She let Bobby explain as they walked back. She studied the town, the buildings, the bodies in the street. She could see the river just past some of the structures, the current carrying debris downstream. With a little work, they could make something here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Here’s what I think,” Sarah said to the group gathered in one of the apartments they had commandeered. “We can take this town and make it safe. It’ll take some hard work and it’ll take some time, but it can be done.”

  “What do you propose?” Annie asked. She was sitting next to Ryan, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

  “We block off the roads. No more of them will be able to get in.” She looked over at Bobby. “Bobby and I already blocked one end of the main road. We just have to do the other end and a few side roads.”

  “How will we get in and out?” April asked.

  “We’ll use a truck or something easy to move on the side roads,” Bobby said. “But the barricades on the main road will be permanent.”

  “Once we have the roads blocked, we’ll do a building by building search. We don’t want to be surprised one day by a zombie in a closet.” Sarah took a sip of her tea. It wasn’t warm anymore, but it was still caffeine.

  “We’d have to get rid of the bodies,” Michelle said. “Bad for morale, let alone all the diseases they carry.”

  “That’s phase three. Removing the bodies and giving them a decent burial.” Sarah looked around the room. Everyone was nodding. “Phase four, we’ll need to go through each building again, catalog what we have in the way of supplies. Maybe keep them in a central location.”

  “It sounds like you have a strong plan,” Annie said with a smile.

  “Yeah, well, I want a safe place. Working together, we can make this it.”

  “It will be, Sarah,” Mick said quietly as he took her hand.

  There was a moment of respectful silence for what they had lost. The people they had lost. Sarah cleared her throat and continued. “Everyone is going to have to pitch in. We can probably do some of this simultaneously.”

  “Do you want me to assign people to the different tasks?” Ryan asked.

  “Thanks, Ryan. You and Annie can work together on that. She knows her people.”

  Annie nodded. “We’ll help out any way we can.” She reached over and touched Sarah’s knee. “And you will have your home.”

  ♦

  An hour later, two teams left the apartment building to clear out the zombies. Their goal was to dispatch any remaining zombies and mark the doors with the number of bodies needing final disposal, plus any supplies that remained inside. Another team went to find vehicles that could serve as a permanent barricade on the other end of the road. They would then find smaller trucks to block the side roads. The rest of the group, with the exception of Elaine and Missy, who sat with the kids, had the unfortunate task of dragging the bodies on the streets to a central location for proper burial. It would be a long, dirty day.

  “You remember how to do this, Ben?” Sarah asked the big man.

  “Yeah, I got it.” Ben, Mick and Sarah were standing outside of a consignment shop. Through the grimy windows they could see the disarray inside. Ben rapped on the door with his pry bar, waiting for any activity. There was nothing. He tried the knob and the door opened freely. Slowly, he pushed the door open, Mick and Sarah standing ready just in case.

  The room was in shambles. Displays knocked over, clothing scattered on the ground, dark splotches of what was probably blood splattered on the walls, the floor, the counters. Dim light filtered through the dirt on the windows, leaving them just enough to see the wreckage. Sarah stepped to the cashier’s counter and peeked over the top. Nothing. Mick nodded t
owards two doors at the rear of the room. Moving quietly, the three of them converged on the first of the doors.

  Ben tapped on the door. They heard a scuffling sound, what might have been a moan. “Careful,” Sarah whispered as Ben opened the door.

  A female zombie sat fully clothed on a blood streaked toilet. They could see wounds on her arm. Her ankle was bent in the wrong direction. She bared her teeth at them and attempted to rise. Her ankle gave out and she fell to the floor. Sarah stepped into the small room and pushed her new weapon down into the creature’s head. It was another pry bar, this one with a pointy end. It pulled out of the diseased brain with ease.

  “She probably hid in here, away from whoever bit her,” Sarah said, backing from the room. “It’s probably still in here.”

  “The other room?” Mick asked.

  She shrugged. “Won’t know until we try it.”

  Ben stepped into the tiny bathroom, his huge bulk nearly filling the room. He lifted the zombie easily in his arms. “What are you doing?” Sarah asked.

  “May as well put her outside,” he said. “It’ll make it easier for everyone else.”

  Mick nodded. “We can do that.” He moved back so Ben could exit the bathroom.

  Sarah jerked her head towards the other door. As Ben carried the corpse to the outside, Sarah and Mick banged on the last door. Even though they heard nothing from inside, Sarah held her pry bar ready as Mick opened the door.

  Nothing rushed them. Even if something had, they would not have seen it until the last minute. The room was black, only the first foot or so visible from the dim light filtering in through the open door. Mick unhooked his flashlight from a clip on his backpack and flicked it on. They advanced slowly into the room, alert to every sound.

  They saw racks of dresses and shirts. Tables stacked with folded pants and tees. A steamer. A folding machine. Various bins and boxes. But no zombies. “Where’d it go?” She whispered as they advanced to the back of the storeroom.

  “Don’t know,” Mick replied. “Maybe it was never in here in the first place.” He shone his light in the corner, where a first aid kit and fire extinguisher were mounted on the wall.

  “But how –” She stopped and shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

  Ben was in the small bathroom, rifling through the vanity. “Some toilet paper in here.”

  “We’ll let the scavenging team know,” Sarah said. “Let’s move on.”

  They went back out into the bright sunny day. Ben slipped his pack from his back and unzipped it. He pulled out three cans of spray paint and handed one each to Mick and Sarah. “Remind me what the colors are for again?” Sarah said, holding the white can of paint.

  It had been Grant’s idea to make things easier for the scavenging teams. White paint meant there were no bodies to remove. Black paint meant there were. Red paint was for medical supplies, blue for clothing and green for food and water. They sprayed lines on the door – white, red and blue. Sarah stared at the lines. With a sigh, she followed Mick and Ben to the next building, a long boarded up pet store.

  “Probably nothing, but we need to check,” Mick said as he tried the door. Locked. Ben stepped forward and tucked his pry bar between the door and frame and leaned into it. The door popped open. The store was completely empty, front to back. The only sign that it had once been a business was a faded flyer offering discounted vaccinations. They backed out, marking the door with white before they moved down the street.

  They did two and a half blocks. Some places were completely empty. Others had bodies. A few had zombies. They cleared them all out, dragging the bodies to the street, tagging the doors with the appropriate paint. Sarah was tired; tension, exertion and all-around lack of sleep making her slow. “Let’s finish this one and head back for lunch,” Mick said as they headed up a narrow set of stairs to a second-floor apartment above a gym filled with protein bars and dietary supplements.

  “We’ll finish the block,” Sarah said, her flashlight in hand, scanning the area ahead.

  Mick turned his head to look at Ben. “Uh – I’m hungry,” Ben said. He shrugged at Mick.

  “After we finish the block.” Sarah stopped on the landing in front of a door painted bright red. She tapped on the door with her bar. She didn’t hear anything, so she reached for the handle and turned the knob.

  The living room was dark, Sarah’s beam barely cutting through the gloom. Mick flicked his light on. The room was small, with a thrift store couch, a small table and book shelves on one end and an apartment sized kitchen with a tiny two-seater table on the other. There were two doors, one fully closed and the other slightly ajar. Sarah walked in, Mick behind her, Ben bringing up the rear.

  Sarah’s light picked out a basket on the floor, a bright assortment of toys resting inside. She swallowed hard as she advanced further into the room towards the two doors. She tapped on the open one. She heard nothing so she pushed it open and took a step back, her arm tensed to swing. It was a tiny bathroom, barely big enough for a toilet, vanity and shower. She let out a breath as she went to the other door.

  “Babe, let me,” Mick said, stepping toward her.

  “I got it.” She pounded on the door. Was that a noise? Rolling her shoulders, she opened the door.

  Tied to the bed was an emaciated female zombie. Her teeth chattered together as she sensed them, her head lifting from the gore-stained pillow.

  “Damn,” Ben said.

  “Yeah.” She looked quickly around the rest of the room. It was empty. “Go check the kitchen,” she said to Ben. “We’ll handle this.” She stepped forward and raised the pry bar. Damn, this is getting heavy, she thought as she brought the bar down onto the creature’s skull. She backed away from the bed and shone her light around the room, her heart stopping when she saw the bassinet in the corner. As Mick pulled the knife from the side pocket of his backpack, she inched closer to the bassinet. She held her breath as she peered inside. A blue blanket covered in stars was bunched at the bottom. She relaxed as she turned around, her flashlight leading her gaze.

  Mick was cutting through the rope that had bound the creature to the bed. He was leaning over to get the other rope binding her hand when Sarah saw movement. “Mick!” She screamed and he turned to look at her just as the zombie raised its freed hand, grabbing onto Mick’s arm. It began to pull itself up, its mouth working.

  She was across the room in a second, her hand yanking her knife from the sheath on her belt. She plunged it down into the top of the zombie’s skull, its teeth clacking together just inches from Mick’s arm.

  Sarah looked at Mick, her eyes wide, her chest heaving. “It’s okay, hon,” he said, pulling his arm from the zombie’s grasp.

  “I almost got you killed,” she said, her voice breaking.

  “Babe, it’s OK.”

  “No, it’s not.” She rubbed her forehead. “I kept pushing when I knew I should stop. I knew it and I just didn’t want to quit and I – I…” She stopped and took a deep breath. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  Mick took her in his arms. “Babe,” he whispered against her hair. “It’s time we take a break.”

  “OK.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

  “Go on out, I’ll take care of this.” He felt her take a deep breath then blow it out. She pulled away and looked up at him. Her eyes, still a bit glassy, cleared as she blinked.

  “I can’t lose you,” she whispered before she went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He watched as she headed out of the room then stopped. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she moved. She headed to the bassinet. Without actually looking at it, she pulled it from the room, the wheels scraping on the hardwood floor.

  Ben was perusing cupboards in the small kitchen. “Anything?” She asked.

  “Lots of peanut butter. Some noodles that might still be good.” He squinted, trying to see in the light of the flashlight. “What’s that?”

  “A bassinet. For Missy.” She folded the legs of the bassine
t and lifted it in her arms. “We’re taking a break after this one.”

  They walked back to the apartment, Sarah carrying the bassinet. They saw Annie, her braids stuffed under a ball cap, thick gloves on her hands and a bandana around her mouth and nose. She waved when she saw them coming, stepping away from the wheelbarrow holding corpses. She drew off a glove and tugged the kerchief from her face as she approached them. “Is that a bassinet?” She asked Sarah.

  “Yeah.” Sarah cleared her throat. “I thought Missy could use it.” Just a little ache in her chest. She was getting better.

  “She’ll love it.” Annie noticed how tightly Sarah was gripping the bassinet. She knew there was a story there. She wondered if Sarah would ever feel comfortable enough to share it with her. “Thank you for thinking of her.”

  Sarah shrugged. “We’re going to get some lunch.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  She shrugged again. “Suit yourself.” She felt Mick’s eyes on her. She sighed. “Sure, we’ll see you back there.”

  Annie smiled. “I’ll just finish this up and be right there.”

  Sarah nodded and started walking, Mick beside her. Ben stayed to lend a hand to Annie. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Mick asked.

  “What?”

  “Being nice.”

  She turned to look at him. “Fuck you, I’m nice.”

  He laughed. “I know you are. But you need to show it to Annie and her people.” He watched her shift the bassinet in her arms. “Let me take that.”

  “No.” She blew out a breath. “I have to do it.”

  “Not alone.”

  ♦

  “Hi, Missy,” Sarah said as they walked into the apartment where she and Elaine were watching over the children.

  “Oh, hi, Sarah!” Missy stood up, graceful despite her bulk. “Hi, Mick. How’s it going?”

  “Good,” he answered, standing beside Sarah.

  “We found this in an apartment,” Sarah said, thrusting the bassinet forward. “Thought you could use it.”