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

by Dziekan, PJ

  “Oh, wow, thank you!” Missy stepped forward as Mick pulled the legs down and locked them in place. He took the bassinet from Sarah’s trembling hands and stood it upright on the floor. Sarah immediately stuck her hands in her jacket pockets.

  “You’ll need to clean it up,” she said.

  Missy ran her hand along the curve at the top. “This is the first thing anyone’s given me for the baby. Thanks.”

  Sarah’s gaze darted around the room. She didn’t dare look at Missy’s earnest face or her distended belly. “You’re welcome. We’re going to get something to eat. Do you – do you want anything?”

  “No, we had some potatoes and carrots earlier.” She smiled. “Now Elaine’s taking a nap, she always does after she eats, and the kids are playing quietly in the other room.”

  “OK, then.” Sarah’s eyes finally settled on Missy’s face. The young girl was smiling, hopeful. “Well, we’ll see you later.”

  Missy reached for Sarah and surprised her with a hug. “You don’t know what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

  Missy’s full belly pressed against Sarah’s empty one. The ache in Sarah’s chest grew until she was having trouble drawing a breath. She pulled herself from Missy’s arms and stepped out of reach. “You’re welcome,” she said again, her voice thready, just before she turned and walked out.

  Mick found her in the stairwell, leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths. She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s supposed to get better, right?”

  Mick pulled her into his arms, tucking her head against his chest. “It will, babe, I promise.”

  ♦

  They had peanut butter and stale crackers, washed down with weak Kool-Aid. Sarah responded when asked a question, but mostly, she kept to herself. She knew she had to accept what happened to her, accept what Missy represented. But it was so damn hard. It hurt so damn much.

  Mick kept everyone talking, drawing out their hasty lunch to give Sarah more time to rest. He knew she was struggling, but he didn’t know how to make it better. Maybe they would be better off somewhere else. But would they ever truly escape what ailed her?

  “We need to get back to work,” Sarah said, draining the last of her cherry drink.

  Mick studied her as she cleaned up the trash from her lunch. She looked a little more rested, but she was still moving slowly, the shadows still lingering in her eyes. “Why don’t we do something different?” He suggested. “So we don’t get burned out.”

  She flashed a brief smile at him. “I was thinking that.” She turned to Annie. “Why don’t you and Steve go with Mick and clear the buildings? Ben and I can clear out the bodies.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Sarah,” Mick protested. “Why don’t you collect salvage?”

  “Because I don’t want to collect salvage. Ben and I will haul bodies.”

  “Sarah…”

  “Mick…” She mimicked his tone.

  Annie laughed, diffusing the tension. “I find it hard to believe that you two haven’t been together for years.” She crumpled her paper plate and put it in the bag they had been using for trash. “Come on, Mick. Show me how it’s done.” She put a hand on his arm and led him from the room. He glanced back just once at Sarah before turning to speak to Annie.

  Sarah and Ben spent the rest of the day collecting bodies and body parts. They piled them into wheelbarrows and carted them to a dump truck. Then, they wheeled them up a ramp Steven had rigged and deposited the remains in the bed of the truck. It was hard work, both physically and mentally. Ben and Sarah worked silently, each of them dealing with the horrific task in their own way. Sarah kept telling herself that they were dolls. Life sized dolls. Sometimes it worked.

  ♦

  It was about an hour before sunset when they finally stopped for the day. Sarah watched Mick, Annie and Steven walking towards them and she felt a smile creep over her face. She tugged the kerchief down to rest around her neck. “You’re a mess,” she said to Mick as he drew closer.

  His face was flecked with blood and other organic material. He smiled. “You don’t look so great yourself, babe.” Her clothes were splattered with fluids, a few streaks on her forehead.

  “Believe me, I feel gross.” She waved at Annie and Steven as they passed by. “Are you really hungry?”

  “Nah, I could wait.”

  “OK, then.” She pulled the heavy gloves from her hands and threw them into the empty wheelbarrow. She took his hand and led him towards the buildings. She grabbed the duffel that she had packed earlier from its place on the curb as they cut between the buildings, weeding through debris and bodies that they hadn’t yet retrieved. Behind the buildings, past the miniscule parking areas accessible by a gravel road, they found a small stand of trees. They pushed thru the trunks, the ground sloping gently towards the river. Sarah stopped a few feet from the water, watching the river lap gently at the shore.

  “This is beautiful,” Mick said, staring down the calm river.

  “It’ll suck if it floods,” she said, releasing his hand and dropped the bag to the ground. She pulled the bandana from her neck and let it fall. She unzipped her jacket and shrugged it off. It landed on top of the bandana.

  “What are you doing?” Mick asked, laughter in his voice.

  “I’m disgusting. I’m taking a bath.” She pulled her long-sleeved tee over her head. Goose bumps rose immediately on her arms.

  “You’re nuts!” He exclaimed. “It’s barely 65 degrees out here!”

  Sarah shrugged as she plopped down on her jacket and began to unlace her boots. “Yeah, water’s probably about ten degrees colder.” She looked up at Mick and grinned. “But at least I’ll be clean.” She toed off her boots and unsnapped her jeans. She held out a hand to Mick, who helped her to her feet.

  Mick shook his head as she shimmied out of her jeans. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  She bent down and he was dismayed to see her ribs pressed against her skin. She pulled a bottle of shampoo from the duffel and turned to face him. She figured they could use it on their hair and their bodies. What was the difference? With a smile, she tossed the shampoo at him and he caught it against his chest. She grabbed the bottom of her camisole and teased it up before pulling it over her head. “Well, chicken?” She asked as she pushed her panties down her hips and stood nude before him, her body peppered with goose bumps.

  He tossed the shampoo back at her and she caught it with one hand. “OK, but remember, the cold is much more forgiving to you.” He quickly shed his clothes, almost immediately regretting it when the chilly air hit him. But once he saw the happiness in Sarah’s eyes, he forgot all about the cold.

  “Let’s do this before I lose my nerve,” she said, grabbing his hand and running into the river.

  The temperature of the water caused them both to cry out, their hands drifting apart. Sarah wasn’t sure, but she thought her heart stopped. She came up out of the water sputtering. “Holy shit!” She finally managed.

  “If I die here, you can have the last Snickers I was hoarding in my pack,” Mick gasped, his lips turning blue.

  “Ass,” she muttered. Her hands were shaking so bad, she nearly lost the shampoo bottle as she opened it, pouring a glob into Mick’s outstretched hand, then her own. She dropped the bottle into the water and watched it float around them.

  They washed quickly, not wanting to linger in the cold water any longer than necessary. By the time she finished washing her hair, her teeth were chattering so hard she felt like they would crack. But at least she was clean.

  They ran out of the river dripping water as they made it back to where their clothes lay strewn about the rocky beach. Shivering, Sarah rummaged in the duffel and pulled out two towels.

  “Hope you have clean clothes in there, too,” he said as he rubbed the towel through his hair. When Sarah didn’t answer, he lowered the towel and looked at her.

  She had wrapped the towel around her body, her auburn hair looking dark b
rown as it dripped down her back. She was holding a pair of jeans, a dark blue thermal shirt, socks and underwear. “Do you think I’m stupid?” She smiled.

  He took the clothes, leaning in to capture her trembling lips. “I think you’re great,” he whispered against her.

  She laughed and pushed him away. “Get dressed. I’ll deal with you later.”

  ♦

  “How the hell are you so clean?” Ryan asked as they walked into the apartment. He was speckled with dirt, grease and blood.

  “This nutjob talked me into taking a bath in the freezing river.” Mick pointed at Sarah.

  “Oh, shutty. You haven’t been this clean since we left your uncle’s.” She dropped the duffel with their dirty clothes on the floor. I should just burn them, she thought.

  “Damn, I should have thought of that,” Ryan said, scratching his head.

  “Tomorrow, you can experience the pleasure of feeling your balls trying to crawl back inside your body.”

  “Mick!” Sarah slapped his thigh, her fingers perilously close.

  “Hey!” Mick exclaimed.

  “Just trying to wake them up.” She winked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The next day was more of the same. Killing zombies and removing bodies. Ben found an excavator that still ran and used it to dig pits just outside of town, near one of the side roads. Using wheelbarrows and the dump truck, they moved the bodies with as much dignity they could. Once a pit was full, Annie would say a few words and Ben would cover the bodies. What else could they do?

  Bobby made the find of the day. In the basement of their apartment building he found a generator. It was old and dirty and disconnected from the building, but Bobby thought he could make it work. The promise of electricity had nearly everyone volunteering to help. Grant and Clair became Bobby’s apprentices, both eager to get started.

  A week into the mass clean up, after a hard day of hauling bodies, Sarah and Annie walked through the town, both happy with the progress that had been made. Sarah was opening up more, sharing little bits of herself, finding out that she and Annie did have things in common. They talked of their travels, what they had seen, what they had done. Sarah didn’t share everything. There were some things, like cold-blooded murder, that no one needed to know about.

  They strolled down towards the barricade on the north end of town, planning to turn back and have dinner, when they heard moans and snarls. Sarah, her hand on the gun on her hip, looked at Annie, then jogged down to the bus that blocked the road. A fast food restaurant roof offered a perfect vantage point. Sarah scrambled up the fire escape on the back of the building and made her way across the roof. When she peered down over the edge of the building, she clapped a hand to her mouth.

  Below, on the street just in front of the school bus, were six zombies tearing into the body of a young man. His arm was stretched out, nearly touching the bus. Even worse, a few feet away, three zombies were feasting on a young child, the body so torn apart she couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl. When she heard Annie come up beside her, she turned to the older woman. “They couldn’t get in,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears.

  Annie swallowed hard as she saw the horror in front of her. “We – we can put sentries up here,” she said. “If we see someone that needs help, we can let them in.”

  Sarah nodded. She was sure she would see those two strangers in her dreams. In her nightmares.

  ♦

  “We’re going to need a lot more fuel if we want to keep using the generator,” Sarah said to the group assembled in their apartment. “Bobby said we can use either diesel or gasoline. The generator goes through a lot of fuel, even if we’re only using it a few hours a day, so we’ll need to find some. A lot.”

  “Diesel would be better,” Bobby said from his seat on the floor. “It lasts longer.”

  Sarah nodded. “OK, diesel. We can take a run out and see what we can find.”

  “Can you keep an eye out for vitamins?” Michelle asked. “Not just for Missy, but we could all use some. Our diet isn’t great.”

  “OK, vitamins. What else?” She scribbled on the notebook in her lap and looked around at the people seated in the living room: Annie, Michelle, Ryan, April, Bobby and Mick.

  “Baby supplies for Missy,” Annie said softly. “We haven’t found much here in town.”

  Sarah swallowed. “I’ll put it on the list. Anything else?”

  “We still need to inventory the food that’s left,” April said. “I’m not sure what we have.”

  “Food’s a given on any run,” Sarah remarked. “But someone needs to figure out what we have here. Maybe Donna and Jack could do it?”

  “Missy would love to help,” Annie said. “She doesn’t feel like she’s contributing much just watching the kids.”

  “Put her and Donna on inventory. Jack can stay on sentry duty on the north gate.” Sarah looked at Ryan. “What about the gardens?”

  “We’ve got two box gardens on our roof. There’s a lot that would make a good garden, but the ground is a mess. I have the kids cleaning up rocks and garbage, then we’ll till it and plant and see what takes.”

  “Good.” Sarah looked at the note pad on her lap. “Any medical problems?” She asked Michelle.

  “No, everyone’s fine. We still need to find glasses for Grant, though.”

  “We will.”

  “And books for the kids,” Mick added. “Dominic and Elaine have been trying to teach them, but they need books.”

  “OK.” She added the last three items to her list. She looked around the room. “Anything else?” When she got no response, she stood up, her notepad in her hand. “OK, then, lights out at eight, back on at six. Mick, Steven and I will take off right after breakfast to see if we can find fuel. And the rest of this stuff.” She lifted the hand with the note pad.

  “Join us for breakfast,” Annie said as she rose. “I’ll make sure you get a good start.”

  “Thanks, but ---”

  “Great idea, Annie,” Mick interrupted. Sarah glared at him. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  People started for the door, waving, saying good night until only Annie, Mick and Sarah remained. “I knew you were a leader,” Annie said to Sarah.

  She shook her head. “I’m not a leader.”

  “Yes, you are.” Annie smiled. “The best kind. The humble kind. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After Annie left, Sarah turned to Mick. “I’m not a leader,” she repeated.

  Mick laughed. “OK, Sarah. Let’s go to bed. You can not lead me there.” She grinned as she dropped the note pad on the couch and followed him.

  ♦

  After a breakfast of mandarin oranges, peanut butter and stale crackers, Mick, Sarah and Steven headed out in the blue Jeep. Bobby closed the barricade behind them, leaving the keys in the truck so they could move it when they returned. “Any ideas?” Sarah asked.

  “Go left,” Steven said. “Most people would go right.”

  “Left it is,” Mick said as he turned the wheel.

  They drove down the dusty road, seeing nothing but a few cars, which they scavenged for gas, and an accident between a pick-up and a hatchback. In the wrecked vehicles, they found diesel fuel, some water, and a tote full of baby clothes that gave Sarah a little jolt. She threw them in the back of the Jeep without comment.

  About a half hour after they left the accident site, they found a small two-story house set back behind a stand of pines. The front door was open, a dark stain on the porch. Sarah approached with caution, Mick just behind her. Steven stayed with the truck, keeping watch. After banging her pry bar on the door jamb and hearing no response, she slipped inside, her small flashlight at the ready.

  The living room was nearly perfect with just a pillow in the middle of the floor. Knickknacks still lined shelves, remotes sat waiting on a coffee table. Flicking her light around, she moved through the living room into a dining room, which was just as orderly as the living room. She brushe
d her hand over the dusty lace tablecloth as she moved through the room.

  The kitchen had been ransacked. Drawers and cupboards opened and showing bare spaces where food once rested. The back door had a table pushed against it with chairs stacked on top. She moved the light around the room, skimming over the fridge with its collection of photos and notes to a door that was cracked open.

  “I’ll check the basement. You take upstairs.” Mick knew that basements held bad memories for her.

  “I’m OK if we go together. You can go first.” She grinned.

  He laughed. “OK.” He tapped on the door with his tire iron before fully opening it. The steps were dark, so he clicked on his light and shone it down.

  He took the steps slow as he flashed his light around. It looked like a standard basement with a washer, dryer, furnace and water tank. On two of the walls were floor to ceiling shelves. One set was still stacked with boxes and totes, their contents listed on the front in black magic marker. The other set of shelves was nearly empty. His light flicked over the almost bare shelves and landed on a door. He turned his head to Sarah and arched a brow. The door looked out of place in the dingy basement. It was bright white and clean but for a small streak of something by the handle.

  “May as well see what’s behind it,” she said. “But it’s going to be tight.” She slipped her pry bar into the loop on her backpack and unholstered her gun. She let her flashlight dangle from her wrist. “Stay to the right.”

  Mick used his flashlight to pound on the door. It was a solid steel door, which gave Mick pause. What could need protected behind a steel door in this basement? He reached for the knob and turned. “Huh,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “It’s locked.”

  “Why would it be locked?”

  She barely saw his shrug. “Maybe something good? Something worth hiding?”

  “You want to break in?”

  “Yeah, give me your pry bar.” He extended his light to her.