by Brown, TW
“Agreed,” Dawn said.
Bruce looked out across the marshy field at the figure that was becoming little more than a dot as the woman continued to move away. At last he dropped his head.
“Agreed.”
14
Bait
Shadiyah slid down the sand embankment and came up with a swift swing of her blade that took the closest zombie in the side of the head. Unfortunately, she did not have enough momentum behind her swing to cut through, and her weapon became stuck in the head of her target.
Yanking one of her shorter bladed weapons free, she dropped to her knees to avoid the sweeping arms of the next zombie. She came up and drove the weapon through the underside of the chin and into the brain pan. She jerked back hard and fast to avoid having the weapon wrenched from her hands as the large man, who looked like he had worked in the quarry, fell sideways.
Twice she had glanced back the way that she’d come to see if Simon and the others were still on her tail. She had risked one look just before she jumped clear of the fence that had bordered the side of the place where she had approached. Four small figures were still back at that storage facility and showed no sign of pursuit. That had prompted mixed feelings. There was a part of her that was relieved to not be chased. The other aspect of her emotional whirlpool was a profound sadness.
What had happened between her and Cedric might have been something that she could have worked past with Simon and the other survivors that he looked to have entrenched himself with in Micklefield. However, she was no idiot. Killing that stranger had put her on the outside. She was a murderer. There was no way to make the truth easier to digest. This was not a simple misunderstanding like back at that pool area of that inn.
She had spent less than ten seconds trying to rationalize her recent actions. There was no way to convince herself that what she had just done to that man was in any way justifiable. So, since that was the case and her new reality, then perhaps she should stop trying to hold herself back.
By the time she had put down the dozen or so zombies in the area, she had allowed that veil of blackness that she so desired to cover her mind to take hold. She crossed the quarry and made her way to the road that ran along the front of this massive gouge in the earth, making no effort to alter her path and avoid any of the walking dead along the way.
The more I kill, the easier it will become, she thought as she used the belt knife on her hip to take down a large woman with a hideous bowl cut and large, sagging breasts that had been savaged by the undead attackers that had added her to their ranks. After all, her train of thought continued as she walked up to a tall, lanky man who was wearing the tattered remains of a button-up shirt with a red and blue striped tie, if I am going to start taking down the evil that remains in this world…I am still just substituting one monster for another.
By the time Shadiyah reached the road, she had managed to banish anything that remained of her conscience to the darkest corner of her mind. She had lined up one justification after another in order to give herself permission to become a new incarnation.
She would roam the country for as long as whatever god might exist deemed that she was worthy to do so. Her mission would be to hunt the hunters…prey on the predators. She let that thought marinate in her soul, and that was what occupied her mind when she came upon a small van that had been smashed into by a rickety old flatbed truck. Her reflection was thrown back at her in the windshield and it made her pause. She ignored the undead creature in the driver’s seat as she pulled the side mirror out to get a better look at herself.
“This won’t do at all,” she groused as she took in the reflection looking back at her.
She was splattered with dark blood that left black speckles all over her face which, even without the blood, was in dire need of a wash. Her hair was a tangled mess that hung clumped in some places by who-knew what. The clothing she wore was probably able to stand up if she took it off and leaned it in a corner.
She shuddered and then actually laughed at the idea of what she might attract looking like this. However, this was not going to work at all. She needed to clean up and make herself more appealing.
She considered the possibilities and decided that, while it would not be wise to stay in the house that she had shared with Caron since the woman would undoubtedly lead Simon and his people there in order to capture her, she could make a quick trip there and gather some supplies as well as get cleaned up. From the house, she would then venture into Garforth. That would be the most likely location to find monsters.
Feeling surprisingly happy, Shadiyah made her way to the place she once thought she might be able to call home. She tapped on the glass as she climbed up and over the Mercedes with its securely belted-in eternal occupant reaching impotently for her. She was almost to the door when she heard the sounds of glass breaking inside the house.
She paused and willed her hearing to sharpen. Whether or not that desire helped, she was soon able to make out muffled voices.
Men!
Rushing to the front door in a crouch, she peered into the gloom and shadows. Whoever was inside was not visible in the entry hall. Holding her breath to try and eliminate any source of ambient noise, she continued to listen. Laughter drifted out to her from someplace inside, but it was impossible to pinpoint it.
She tested the doorknob and smiled when it turned. Of course she and Caron had not thought to lock the place when they left. Besides the fact that they had not located a set of keys (although Shadiyah was fairly certain that they could be located in the ignition of the silver Mercedes at the front gate), they had both agreed that locking doors was a pointless exercise in the face of a zombie apocalypse.
The sounds of more glass being broken caused her to jump just as she slipped through the front door. The voices grew louder, and now that she was inside the house, she could make them out a bit more clearly.
“C’mon, ladies, is there any need for that?” a peculiar sounding voice scolded.
“Makes me feel better,” another voice snapped in response.
“Are we here to find supplies or act like fools?” the first voice continued, obviously not happy with the behavior of his companion or companions if that proved to be the case.
“You want to have us put you right back where we found you?” a new voice slurred, sounding as if the owner had spent a majority of the apocalypse in a pub.
“Is that a real question or are you making a threat?”
Shadiyah did not know what it was about the owner of that strange sounding voice, but she liked him. She might actually let him live if the opportunity made itself available.
“I think I have had just about enough of you,” the slurred voice growled.
There was another crash and a shout. A few seconds later, the sounds of somebody running her direction could be heard. That was accompanied by another tremendous crash, and this time, shards of glass erupted from just up ahead as whatever had been thrown exploded against the wall near where the stairs going up were located.
Shadiyah had her scimitar drawn and was prepared for whatever came around that corner…almost. It could have been a number of things and she would have given it no thought at all as she swung her weapon and did her best to cleave whatever it was that appeared. The one thing that caught her by surprise was the dwarf who rounded that corner and briefly skidded to a halt, obviously surprised by her presence as well.
Her brain had just a second to register the fact that any swing she might have taken would have missed had she done so. She was set to basically decapitate her victim, and a blind swing with that in mind at this exact moment would have obviously sailed high.
The man shot a look over his shoulder, but the lack of footfalls in pursuit told everything. Whoever he had been speaking with was obviously not in the mood to actually give chase. He quickly brought his stubby finger to his lips and made the universal sign for her to keep quiet.
The diminutive man pointed to the door behind
her and gave a nod of his head. For just a moment, Shadiyah considered simply skewering the man and then moving on, but she had heard things in the exchange upstairs that had given her the notion to spare this man if she was given the chance. Well…the chance was right here.
They slipped outside and moved over in front of the large attached garage where they would be out of sight from any of the upstairs windows. The man kept eyeing her scimitar, but she was not about to put it away. She did notice that he appeared unarmed. Still, looks might be deceiving. After all, wasn’t that exactly what she was counting on?
“Was this your home, miss?’ the man whispered. She guessed him to be Irish judging by the accent.
“Yes,” she lied. Actually, she told herself, that was only a partial lie. She had claimed it a few days ago, but he didn’t need to know the details.
“Then I profoundly apologize. And I would like to say that everything will be okay, but I am afraid my companions are in the cups. The good news is that they won’t likely stay.”
“Oh,” she patted the scimitar, “of that you can be certain.”
The little man seemed to consider her for a moment with something like sadness. At last, after an incredible cracking sound that caused windows to vibrate in their frames, the man squeezed his eyes shut and then continued.
“Those are some nasty fellows. The lot of us were in the clink when all this zombie nonsense started. Got picked up after a wee bit of a tussle in one of the local drinking establishments. What we did…” He paused and shook his head as if clearing it of a nasty memory. “What they did that allowed us to get out? It’s just not fit to tell in mixed company. Do yourself a favor and find someplace to hide for a bit. They’ll be on their way soon enough. I’ll even stick around and help with the cleanin’ if that will help.”
“I’m sorry…what did you say your name was?” Shadiyah asked with a cock of her head.
“Paddy O’ Rourke, at your service.” The man gave a low bow and came up with a smile that quickly faded as her intentions were obviously etched on her face.
“Thank you for the kindness, Paddy,” Shadiyah said, touching the man’s shoulder as she started past. “But I think I can take care of this.”
She was at the door when a thought struck her. She turned, seeing that the man was still regarding her. His face brightened for an instant until she spoke.
“How many?”
With a deep sigh that seemed much bigger than his small figure should allow, he replied, “Two…just two now that I have gone.”
Turning on her heel, Shadiyah went to the front door, opened it, and stepped inside.
***
Simon stood outside the front door and watched the setting sun carve a purple bruise into the clouds that were giving way. He had his very own shaft of light to stand in and enjoyed how warm it felt on his face. Inside the townhouse, Mrs. Raye, that new woman Caron, and Annie were eating beans and some stale bread that she had toasted over a fire that still crackled and snapped, sending little embers skyward with the smoke.
Several of the Micklefield citizens were walking past the house. A few even made a weak attempt at waving as they returned home from the service that Geoff had given for Miles. Simon had stood in the back of the church feeling very out of place.
It wasn’t that he did not feel bad for the friends and family of Miles Carson, or even Cedric or Sydney, or whatever the hell the man’s name was; it was simply that he did not know the man. With all the death that had occurred in the past several weeks, he was starting to feel just a little numb.
Looking west towards the setting sun, he noticed that the haze in the direction of Leeds was thinning. Maybe the fires were finally burning out. Not that he would be heading into that place anytime soon. There were plenty of places with fewer zombies that they could pick through as they began to stockpile their resources.
“You ready?” Caron asked him as she stepped outside.
“Yeah.”
Simon gave himself a mental pat down. He had his mace, a nifty machete that Nelson had given him at the little memorial service, and two knives on his belt. He had opted to leave the rifle with Mrs. Raye. He was simply not comfortable with using the thing. He had as much chance of shooting himself as he did a zombie.
“You do realize that she is not an idiot. I just don’t see her going back there.” Caron pulled the door shut and followed Simon down the walkway.
“I still need to look. I can’t believe that she came all the way here just to tell me that she had put my sister to rest.”
“I think she was just doing it to square things between you. She felt that she owed you something for leaving her a note?” Caron ended that last sentence as a question. She had never actually seen a note and had to know if it was real or just an excuse by Shadiyah.
“I just told her where we were going in case she wanted to join us. I can’t fathom anybody that would want to spend the rest of their lives alone. And these days, that is asking for death…or worse.”
“I don’t like the idea of making this trip when night is falling,” Caron complained, although she already knew the reason. If there was any chance that Shadiyah was still at the house, it was probably a narrow window of opportunity.
“I told you that you could draw me a map,” Simon reminded.
Caron sighed and followed Simon over a fence. They were now officially outside of the protective barricades of Micklefield. She had only been there a short time, but already it had made an impression. There was a sense of safety and well-being in that little village setting. She knew that it was an illusion, but still, it beat the feeling of being exposed that overflowed every pore with a sense that was very close to dread.
It was not long before they had to pull out their weapons. She briefly wondered if it might be the fact that they were wearing lights strapped to their heads. The dark shapes coming at them were moaning, but in their midst the sound of a baby cry could be heard. Caron froze in her tracks. How could that be possible?
“What’s wrong?” Simon asked as the woman just suddenly stopped walking.
“You don’t hear that?” Caron asked in return.
“What?” Simon paused and then let out an uneasy laugh. “You mean the town crier? Some of the zombies make that noise for whatever reason.”
“That is terrible.”
“I imagine it has cost more than a few people their lives,” Simon agreed.
Together, the pair moved in and took down the zombies. It was surprisingly simple, and Simon said as much when they had dispatched the last one.
“Would you rather we be dealing with Danny Boyle’s sprinting lunatics?” Caron scoffed as she wiped off her blade before putting it back in its sheath.
“Of course not, but it is just so strange to see this happen for real. I saw a few of those shows back when I was younger. Always thought that I would be some sort of hero that rallied people together and took a stand,” Simon said wistfully.
“Isn’t that exactly what is happening?”
“Not really.” Simon was quiet for a moment as the pair walked along in the darkness under a full moon whose beauty was benefitting from the clearing sky.
“Last I checked, weren’t you basically voted in by the people of Micklefield to run things?”
“Mrs. Raye is the real rudder to that ship,” Simon admitted with a sigh. “I listen to pretty much everything that she has to say and use that to make my decisions when I am asked to do so.”
“A good leader knows to surround himself with the right people. Nobody is going to have all the answers. You are smart to rely on people who will give you their help.”
“Yeah,” Simon agreed. “But with Mrs. Raye, you are never certain if you are taking advice or being led by the nose to a specific point.”
Caron chuckled. “Yeah, I sort of picked up on that with her. What is her deal?”
Simon proceeded to fill their travel time with the whole story (as he saw it) about his little group; he also
gave more of the story regarding Shadiyah and Cedric. He tried to do his best not to editorialize, especially when it came to Cedric. He left out the part about his having been bitten.
“Wow, you guys had a nasty go of it,” Caron said after hearing everything. “I still don’t really understand why Shadiyah wanted to come see you and tell you that she took care of your sister, and when are you going to let people know that you were bit?”
There was an absolute silence between them for several heartbeats. Simon finally stopped walking and folded his arms across his chest.
“Who told you?” He was going to have to give Mrs. Raye a stern talking to if she had revealed this to a stranger. Granted, this stranger was going to be travelling alone with him, so perhaps she had the right to know. Still, shouldn’t that be his choice?
“Shadiyah.”
Once again an odd silence fell. At last, Simon found his voice. “How could she know?”
“She said that your sister had dried blood around her mouth. I don’t think it was a stretch to guess who she bit.” Caron paused, and then continued. “Actually, seeing you was some very good news for me.”
She explained how she had been bitten and that she believed herself to be a goner all the way up until she saw Simon. To actually be able to confirm (based on his reaction) that he had indeed been bitten all those days ago and had not died and turned was a blessing. Simon listened and suddenly found himself liking this woman.
They were actually having a casual conversation when they heard the screams. They both froze and shut their mouths in order to be able to try and pinpoint wherever the source of that terrible scream had originated.
“That is a man,” Simon whispered.
“Poor bastard,” Caron breathed. “And it is in the direction we are going.”
Another scream came, this one ending with a suddenness that sent chills down Simon’s spine. It sounded like somebody had just suffered an amazingly terrible ending. What it did not sound like was somebody that had just been eaten by a zombie. There was a hitch-and-go to those screams; as opposed to whenever somebody was being torn apart and could not actually get a full enough breath for a long shriek. This particular person had given a good, long cry of pain.
