by Brown, TW
“Umm…okay, but why would you give me this?” Caron accepted the handgun that Mrs. Raye presented to her and then held onto it like she feared it might suddenly attack her.
“You are going out with this group, and it is still possible that Shadiyah is in the area. If she is, you have to understand that the girl is simply broken. The world we find ourselves in has no room for her. If she sees you, she might approach. If that happens, you need to be ready to put her down.”
“She’s not an animal in need of a merciful death,” Caron protested, shoving the weapon back at the woman.
“No, she is much worse.” Mrs. Raye did not accept the gun and made a show of putting her hands behind her back. “She is a human being that has become broken. She has no compass. If she can attack Simon, a man she has known for years and had no reason to hold ill will towards, then consider what she can do to others. Do I need to remind you of those men in the room? That one poor bloke that bled out in the chair? Both were murdered by Shadiyah, but she was not simply killing…she was engaging in torture.”
“I can’t kill her.” Caron set the gun on the table along with the holster and the pouch with the two spare magazines. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I just can’t.”
With that, Caron turned and walked out to join the team. Nobody asked any questions about what might have been said, and they travelled in silence towards their target destination of the outskirts of Garforth. This would be the first excursion using a flatbed truck and trailer with a winch and hitch on the front end. The entire thing had been put together by Nelson. The idea was that they could pull any of the cars blocking the path out of the way and then roll in. With the large truck, they would be able to load up supplies in much greater quantities.
They took Church Lane to the A656 and then hooked around at the M1 roundabout to the A642 which would take them into East Garforth from the north side of town. The first obstacle was no surprise and they had already discussed how to tackle it while driving.
The junction where the 642 began was the site of a seven car mess with a military truck in the middle of it all. From the looks, the military truck had tried to park crossways on the road to block off anybody getting onto the M1 from this area. At least two of the cars were riddled with bullet holes and one was mostly just a charred wreck. The others, and this was Nelson’s guess, had decided to try and ram the truck. It had ended poorly for all involved when at least one or more of the cars caught fire.
“How come there wasn’t some sort of explosion?” Dawn asked as they approached the scene of the wreck.
“Because this isn’t the pictures,” Melena answered.
After pulling one of the cars free and making enough of a space for them to get past, they were back on the road towards their target destination. Once they pulled into the residential area, the next part of their plan would be implemented. This was the trial run and would be the one that determined if other teams could use the same tactics.
Dawn would stay in the truck, behind the wheel and with the engine running. Nelson would be paired with Niamh and Melena with Caron. In teams of two, they would each take a residence and take anything and everything they could carry. Food was the top priority, but they were also to give equal attention to anything to do with medicine, first aid, and hygiene.
They reached the turn-in to the first neighborhood and the truck slowed. The signs at the entrance read: Cedar Ridge.
***
Shadiyah woke and stared up at the ceiling. Despite her exhaustion, she had woken numerous times through the night as nightmares hit her with everything that her mind could think of.
Despite her ability to quell her conscience while she was awake, apparently she had not yet reached the point where her unconscious mind could dismiss or ignore her actions. She was thankful for the inability to recall any of the specifics less than a few minutes after waking up.
Rolling over, she made the mistake of drawing a deep breath and sat up immediately, rubbing her nose as if that might help force out the mustiness and stink that had flowed in and coated her nostrils. It was as she sat there trying to figure out what she would do now when she heard an odd noise.
It took her a while to finally realize that it was an approaching vehicle. With the world being so quiet compared to how it had been before the zombie apocalypse, the noise had a quality to it that made it seem just a bit off. Also, she could not tell exactly what direction that it was coming from, only that it was growing louder which meant that it was approaching.
She felt tears welling up in her eyes as frustration warred with anger for the dominant feeling that coursed through her. She had certainly not had time to gather supplies beyond the emergency pack. That would not do much more than sustain her for a day or two. Just in this house alone, she had seen enough stuff to last her for days, if not weeks. She was even entertaining the thought of making this place home for a while as she got her feet back underneath her and decided what she needed to do from here on out.
She quickly got herself back under control and calmed down. Perhaps whoever this was would just pass her by. Why would they necessarily stop here? And if they did pull into this neighborhood, there were plenty of houses.
She crept to the window, her hand resting on the hilt of her scimitar. Just touching the weapon gave her a strange sense of comfort.
The sound continued to echo off of everything until it felt as if it might be bouncing around inside her very skull. It was now being rivaled by the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears and vibrating at her temples.
When the source finally came into view, Shadiyah felt that familiar sensation of adrenaline dumping into her system. It was a large truck pulling a nice-sized trailer. No doubt the occupants were looters. There looked to be three in the cab and two standing in the flatbed leaning in close to the side windows.
Movement from the corner of her eye made her look away from the truck as it slowed at the entrance to this residential area. From everywhere, she saw them emerging. While certainly plenty of the population of this area looked to have fled or made the attempt, a good many had obviously stayed behind and eventually joined the ranks of the walking dead. It was this remnant that would do her dirty work for her. She would stay inside the house and hide while these unsuspecting fools that were already slowing in front of the first houses that she already knew to have been picked rather clean would be overwhelmed by the walking dead.
“That thing is a giant dinner bell,” she whispered as she watched them slow and stop.
She shot a look to her left up the street that ran along the side of this house and could see well over a hundred zombies now in the street and shambling towards the sound source that was the rumbling engine of the large truck.
She saw the two in the back of the truck jump down to the street as the doors opened to the cab and two more figures emerged. All of these people were wearing heavy clothing and odds and ends of protective gear. They had gloves hats, and even goggles, but there was something about one of the figures that seemed strangely familiar.
“I’m just imagining things. Who do I know anymore? Nobody.” She shifted her weight a little and continued to watch as the drama unfolded. Two of the figures darted to one of the houses and the other pair took the one across the street.
As the zombies neared, she could barely hear their moans and cries over the sounds of the truck that remained running in front of the target houses. As she examined the scene, she came to another conclusion; this little group was in worse trouble than they might realize. They had been careless despite their protective gear and working in teams while the big vehicle was left running in case they needed to make a hasty escape. They were on a street that was far too narrow for them to have any real chance of turning around. They had stopped right on a bit of a dogleg in the road which, while not impossible to navigate, would still likely provide problems when it came to backing out in a hurry. And backing out would be their only choice since they would not be able to tu
rn around.
When the first zombies rounded the corner, Shadiyah almost felt as if she were watching a movie. Part of her even wanted to yell at the person in the cab of the truck. In the movies, if you yelled at a movie screen, they obviously could not hear you; but if she were to yell now, the person in the truck would have a chance.
She opened her mouth, and then shut it again. If she yelled, she might bring that horde down on herself. Would that be such a terrible thing? she thought. Perhaps that was her own cosmic justice…a chance to atone for all her sins.
But then again, maybe none of it mattered and these people were not her problem.
16
Sound Travels
“This place is absolute shite,” Nelson growled as he walked out of the bathroom empty-handed. “Somebody has already been here.”
“Quite a few somebodies,” Niamh agreed as she appeared in the doorway of a child’s bedroom.
“I was not terribly surprised by the kitchen having already been looted. After all, this house is closest to the entrance of the neighborhood. Anybody and everybody who passed by could duck in, grab a few things, and then be off. No need to venture any deeper. Minimal risk. That is what our hunters have been doing. They have hit houses on the edge of town.”
“So we just have to go a bit deeper. I am certain that not all of these homes have been gone through. For one, I haven’t seen that many bands of survivors roaming the area. In fact, with the exception of those soldiers, I can’t say that I have seen anybody.”
“Our Simon, Mrs. Raye, and little Annie came from Leeds. As did that nutter of a woman that knifed Simon and killed those other blokes.” Nelson stepped over a pile of trash and headed into the other bedroom.
He only did so to be absolutely certain, but he was not surprised by his findings. The closets had been tossed as had the dresser drawers. And to make it just a shade worse, somebody had used one of the piles of discarded clothing as a toilet area. He went over to open the bedroom window just to allow himself a breath of fresh air before wading back downstairs to the thick stench of rot and decay that filled the ground level of this house like fetid water. What he saw looking out over the backyard and up the street of the residential neighborhood made his skin pebble and his mouth go instantly dry.
“Oh bloody hell,” he breathed.
Niamh stepped up and beside him. Her reaction was a bit more visceral as she actually staggered back a step to the point where Nelson caught and helped steady her so that she did not take a tumble. From where they stood, across the street from the house the other team had ducked into, they could see up the road and deeper into the neighborhood.
The undead were coming in droves. Their focus seemed to be on the idling truck. It was just a matter of a few more feet before they would round the little bend in the road and be visible to Dawn who sat in the cab all by herself.
The one thing that Nelson was certain about was the fact that he and Niamh would not make it downstairs and to the truck before the zombies. And even if they got very lucky, that did not mean that Melena and Caron would have the same fortune. Also, there was the issue of the truck having to be driven backwards to get out. Doing so in a hurry would jackknife the trailer and put an immediate end to their trip. The way he saw it…they had one chance and one chance only.
“Run!” he barked and turned to hurry down the stairs and out the front door.
His arrival was just a few steps behind the leading edge of the zombies. Dawn had opened the door on the driver’s side and was standing on the running board, peering over the door with her mouth open in astonishment.
“Leave it!” Nelson barked. “Melena! Caron! Drop everything and get out here! RUN!”
Several of the zombies turned his way and eventually got their bodies around and moving in a new direction. He pulled Niamh past him and gave her a nudge towards the exit of the neighborhood. Dawn had jumped from the truck and was sprinting towards Nelson who had to wave her off. “Just get out of here!”
The woman veered to her right and headed for the exit with Niamh leading the way. Just as the first zombies began to flow around the front of the truck, Melena and Caron emerged from the house.
“What—” is all Melena said before her mouth snapped shut at the sight of all the zombies; several instantly turned her direction when she spoke.
“Can you escape out the back?” Nelson called as he brought his machete around and cleaved the right side of a short female zombie’s face off and kicked the body away.
“Yeah!” Melena shouted over the growing din of moans and even a few baby cries that were becoming louder by the second as more and more of the undead poured around the corner. “There is a big field that borders the house. We will cut across it.”
“Just head for home, and don’t stop until you get there!”
Nelson punched a zombie in the face with his gloved hand. It didn’t really do much except for knock the creature back, but that was all he needed as he twisted away from another set of outreached arms and sprinted after Dawn and Niamh.
The two women stopped at the open entrance to Cedar Ridge and waited for the big man to catch up. As soon as he did, all three started jogging up the road, back in the direction of the roundabout. They had not gone ten yards when they all slowed and then stopped.
“That’s not good at all,” Niamh said with a loud exhale of frustration.
Coming their direction were several zombies. While they were at least slightly spread out and not in anything near the numbers that were back at Cedar Ridge, there were still too many to try and just run through. All it would take was for one to get ahold of any of them and it would be over.
“Why?” Dawn managed to bite back tears, but her voice gave away that she was on the verge of a breakdown.
“The noise of the truck maybe?” Nelson offered.
“But why so many?” Dawn pressed. “Garforth was supposedly evacuated.
“Seems that they didn’t listen any better than we did in Micklefield,” Nelson tried to joke, but it did not seem to offer much comfort. “We can discuss all this later.” Nelson gave the two women a nudge to the right. “Get through those trees and we will cut across the field.”
The trio had to actually hack a few branches out of the way, but at last they were in a massive farming tract with rows and rows of the domed structures that covered the long furrows that would remain untended—at least for the immediate future. The advantage to the domes was that they had long stretches that the three of them could look down and ensure that they were actually empty of any of the undead. The bad part came when they were deep into one of the several hundred yard long stretches when a group of zombies appeared at the end and turned in their direction.
“You didn’t think that we would get home without killing a few of those bloody bastards, did ya?” Nelson wheezed, obviously out of breath and laboring to keep the pace set by the two smaller women.
It was Dawn that put on a burst of speed just as they closed to within around twenty feet from the five undead that were almost single file ahead of them. Of course, there was not room to go a full two abreast; especially if a weapon was being wielded.
The lead zombie was a man in his late twenties or perhaps early thirties. He was wearing a tattered and bloody rugby jersey and had a nasty chunk taken out of his meaty shoulder. He towered over Dawn by a good six inches and she used it to her advantage as she ducked low and came up with her weapon under the chin of the beefy man. The tip of the blade plunged into the throat just above the Adam’s apple and came out the back of its neck, but was nowhere close to a killing blow.
The zombie reached out with his massive hands and grabbed the woman’s right arm. It brought down its mouth and clamped onto her forearm. Just as it bit down, Nelson swung overhand and brought his blade down onto the crown of the zombie’s head. It dropped as Dawn screamed and staggered back into Nelson creating a domino effect as the pair landed on the ground in a tangled heap; neither able to get free a
nd protect themselves from the next zombie, much less be able to attack.
Nelson felt a foot smash down on his face and then his ribs. There was a wail of fury and the sound of a weapon biting into another skull. He managed to look up and see that it was Niamh standing on his torso; she was wielding a cricket bat that had been modified with what looked like at least three iron spikes down the middle. He tensed his body to offer her as solid of a footing as he could manage.
One by one, the remaining zombies marched to their doom. It wasn’t until the last one fell that he was aware of sobbing. As soon as the lithe Irishwoman stepped down from her perch on his body, he managed to free himself from Dawn and rise to his feet. The woman did not move and simply curled up tighter into a ball and cried all the harder.
“Hey,” Niamh knelt beside the sobbing figure and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “let’s get you up.”
“Just leave me…better yet, kill me and put me out of my misery so I don’t turn into one of those cursed things. I don’t want to smell like that.”
“Sort of a strange thing to be worried about,” Nelson muttered, slamming his lips shut when Niamh glared up at him.
“Where did it get you?”
“My arm,” Dawn sobbed as she offered up the offending limb.
“Which one?” Niamh asked.
“This one!” Dawn insisted, shaking the extended arm for emphasis.
“Then, shouldn’t there be blood or something?” Nelson asked after exchanging looks with Niamh.
Dawn lifted her head from the ground and then glanced at her arm. She sat up and blinked away the tears and then gently poked at her arm with her other hand. She winced from pain, but then poked it two more times. At last, she tugged up her sleeve to reveal a nasty bruise already forming on her forearm, but there was no indication of any broken skin. She looked back up at the two people who were staring down at her with almost identical expressions of interest.
