Fractured- Part 1

by L. T. Ryan

  Emma gave her a thumbs-up. Addy winked back at her. The girl caught on quick. Too bad she hadn’t been a little more cautious approaching the trap. But Addy knew she couldn’t lay all that blame at the girl’s feet. After all, she was twelve and stuck in this shitty situation without her father. She’d gone from expecting him to be around to take care of her, to out on her own. But wasn’t that due to her own actions? She could have remained safe with Turk.

  A selfish thought raced through Addison’s mind, sending a shock through her system as she tried to squash it before it materialized. What if she left the girl? No one but her knew they’d been together.

  “Don’t even go there,” she muttered to herself.

  The turmoil inside following that thought lasted a full two minutes. Probably would’ve gone on longer, but she performed a mind dump the moment what she had been searching for appeared.

  The vine hung a good five feet off the ground. She grabbed the end and tugged. Her hope had been that it would give a good amount and she’d cut what she needed. But the vine didn’t budge.

  Addy tucked the knife in the sheath and wrapped her arms and legs around the tree and worked her way up six inches or so at a time. She reached the first branch, which stretched out about ten feet off the ground. She threaded one leg around it, then hooked her feet together at the ankles so she straddled the branch.

  The vine hung three feet away. She worked down the branch until she had it in hand. The knife had a serrated saw blade on the backside. She worked that through the vine until it was cut about halfway, then began hacking at it with the sharp blade. She alternated like this until she had severed eight feet worth of vine free.

  Addy didn’t bother scaling down the trunk again. Instead she hugged the branch, let her legs and torso fall, then stretched the length of her body. The fall from that point was hardly noticeable. She hit the ground soft and with bent knees scooped up the vine and started back toward Emma.

  No sooner had she begun her trek than the girl screamed. The sound echoed through the woods and was met with replies from the afflicted. Their horrid screeches soon overtook the gentle silence that had been present.

  Addison disregarded her safety and sprinted, dodging dead trees, hurdling small bushes, and tripping but not falling on the snaking vines.

  She slowed her pace as she approached. Since that scream, she hadn’t heard a peep out of Emma. Had something happened?

  Please God, don’t let anything have happened to the girl.

  She was sure she couldn’t live with it if Emma succumbed to the dead on her watch.

  Addy threaded through the final stretch, using the trees as shields. She had the Glock in one hand, the vine looped around the other. Who cared if a gunshot drew attention in this situation? She needed to free Emma as fast as possible and they could take off.

  When the small hill came into view, she spotted a single afflicted standing between her and the hole. It was staring up at the trees. Confused, perhaps, about what had made the sound. Those primal instincts brought it to the place it had occurred, but it couldn’t find the source.

  Addy dropped the vine and retrieved the knife once again. She stepped into the opening, her feet landing softly on the ground. She tried not to crunch the dead leaves. She circled behind the afflicted, which had once been a short man wearing a suit. Maybe the suit had been blue with pinstripes. Now it was covered in mud and dried blood.

  She stood five feet behind the dead. The stench was miserable. If she ever wound up in a room full of shit from ten public toilets, this was what she imagined it would smell like.

  Addy drew the knife up, blade aimed at the afflicted.

  But before she could plunge it, the dead turned and faced her. Dull eyes flashed to life with yellow and green. It opened its mouth wide. Thick strands of mucus connected top and lower teeth. Bugs feasted on what had once been a tongue. The afflicted started toward her.

  She swung with the knife. The blade sunk into its soft cheek and sliced through one side to the other. The afflicted’s jaw dropped almost to its chest. She must’ve severed some remaining connective tissue.

  It wasn’t enough, though. It reached out and grabbed her shirt. The fabric bunched in its hand. It started to pull her closer.

  She stabbed with the knife again. It penetrated through the afflicted’s forehead. The lights went out. It released her shirt and collapsed to the ground at Addy’s feet.

  Addison stumbled backward and dropped the knife as she reached down to steady herself. There could be more traps, she reminded herself. Flailing around out here could lead to a slow and painful death.

  Throughout the woods, other afflicted called out. To one another? She could only hope not.

  “Addy?” Emma said. “Did you get it?”

  She raced back to the tree, scooped up the vine and hurried back to the girl, tossing the stretch of makeshift rope down to Emma. The girl wasted no time. She yanked hard on the vine and grunted.

  “You making it?” Addy said. She was a few feet back. Any closer, she might slip down. Emma was small, but the force of her body pulling down was enough that Addison had to brace herself.

  “Almost there.”

  A hand appeared, all bunched into a fist. Then the other. The top of her head and that mane of brown hair followed, with her cute face not far behind.

  Addison felt a surge of energy and strength and she pulled hard on the rope while backing up. A moment later, Emma was free. The girl sprinted to Addy. She collapsed in her arms and cried softly.

  “You okay?” Addy asked.

  “My ankle burns.” Emma pushed back and lifted her foot.

  Addison looked her over. “Where’s your bag?”

  The girl closed her eyes and dropped her head back. “Oh, no. I left it in the hole.”

  “Okay, this isn’t as big a deal. We’ve got the vine now. I can lower you back in, you get it, and I’ll pull you back out.”

  Emma wiped tears away, leaving dirty streaks on the side of her face. “I can do this.”

  They stood and both faced the hole. Addison’s stomach rose into her throat.

  Two afflicted were stumbling toward them. But they would never make it all the way. The hole swallowed them alive.

  “It-it’s okay,” Emma said. “We’ll shoot them, then I’ll go in.”

  “These woods are crawling with afflicted, Emma. Listen. Do you hear that?”

  The calls were incessant between the dead at that moment. The energy of what had occurred raced through the forest, and all of them knew something was going on.

  “What’s that?” Emma said.

  “It’s them,” Addy said. “The afflicted.”

  “No, there’s something else.” She pointed toward the right, back toward the road. “Is that a…horse?”

  Addison closed her eyes and faced in that direction. And she heard it, too.

  “Come on.”

  Addy threaded her arm around Emma and helped her down the small hill and through the woods. Though it felt as though they were moving through molasses, it benefitted them. The ground was treacherous. Moving too fast increased the chances of mistakes. Mistakes in this environment led to death.

  The horse led them to it with its constant whines. They found the animal tied to a tree trunk, a generous length of rope allowing it freedom to move twenty feet in any direction. At its feet was an afflicted lying still in a puddle of dark blood. There were two others nearby. They stood still, watching, seemingly unsure how to approach the beast.

  Addy held Emma back. They remained out of sight. She was fascinated by the scene. Since when did those dead bastards think? She swept the surrounding area with her gaze, spotted a rock the size of a softball. Perhaps it could serve as a distraction.

  “Wait here,” she whispered to Emma, squeezing the girl’s shoulders. She dashed across an opening and scooped up the rock. No stranger to heaving a ball, she cocked her arm back and let the rock sail, past the horse, over the heads of the afflicte
d. It clattered through branches and knocked off the side of a tree trunk.

  She held her breath in anticipation.

  The afflicted did not move.

  The horse was startled, flinched, looked away from the dead waiting to eat it.

  And then the afflicted reacted. Not to the horse, but the sound behind them. At almost the same moment, both turned their rotten heads toward the sound. Their bodies followed. They shuffled at different speeds away from the horse.

  Addy hurried back to Emma. She found the girl crouching, peering out from the side of her cover.

  “Think you can untie it?” Addison asked her.

  “I can,” Emma answered.

  “Approach her from the front, hold out your hand. Once she accepts you, get her untied.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “Take care of those two.” She straightened and armed herself with a knife from her boot and the Glock 19. “So don’t be surprised if you hear gunshots.”

  Addy led the way into the clearing. The horse glanced over at her for a moment before returning its focus to the afflicted. What had the animal seen over the months since the outbreak? She glanced back and saw Emma approaching as she had instructed. That’s my girl, she thought. Nice and easy.

  When Addy stepped on a branch and snapped it in half, one of the afflicted reacted immediately. It froze in place while the other continued on. Addison’s heart rose in her throat. She lifted the 9mm. Cold sweat affected her grip on the pistol. She squeezed the grip even tighter. The last thing she wanted to do was fire a shot and draw more afflicted out of the woods.

  Several seconds passed. Emma whispered to the horse. Sounded like rustling leaves in the wind. The dead remained still, its head cocked slightly, maybe staring up at the trees. Addy couldn’t tell. Couldn’t see the damned’s face. She lifted the knife eye-height, blade out, and stepped quickly toward it. A single plunge in the back of its head was all it took. The blade cut through the decaying skull like it was mud. Dark blood and mucus-like brain seeped out of the spreading hole as the afflicted slid down and Addy held the knife steady.

  She stepped back, away from the mess. The other afflicted had continued to shuffle into the woods, almost out of sight now.

  “How are we doing over there?” she said softly.

  “Almost got her free,” Emma replied, perhaps a little too loudly.

  Addison stepped around the clearing, remaining in the skeletal shadows of the tree. They were in the clear, it seemed. She tucked the pistol behind her back and the knife in the oversized sheath, then moved to help Emma.

  Since leaving Virginia, she thought the most spine-chilling sound she’d ever hear was those things screeching and howling throughout the night. Laying there, unsure if she’d wake up alive again. Fearing what eternal waking-death would be like.

  But at that moment, with Emma at her side and a calm horse next to them watching their every move, the sounds of the afflicted crying out had nothing on the distinct chunk-chunk of a shotgun.

  “Thanks for taking care of those dead bastards,” a guy said. “Now raise your hands and back the fuck away from my horse.”

  Nine

  Sean tried not to flinch. He didn’t want to show weakness in front of the men. But the deafening sound of the .357 erupting throughout the small cabin was too much. He covered his ears and his head with his forearms and hands and bowed forward a little. It was disorienting, if only for a moment or two.

  As the echoes dissipated, another sound took over.

  Medrick’s laughter.

  The guy smoothed back his puffy brown hair and waved the pistol around like it was a toy. The hole in the wall just past Leo and Beth proved it was the real deal, though.

  “If you could only see your faces,” Medrick said in between bellows. “Holy shit! That was some good stuff.”

  “You asshole!” Beth pulled her baby tight to her chest in an attempt to muffle its cries. It was only natural for the infant to be upset, but these men might use it as an excuse to kill the kid.

  “Percy,” Medrick said as he gestured toward the woman.

  Percy bent over and grabbed for the infant. Beth turned away from him, cradling the child with one hand, lashing out with the other. Her fingernails caught Percy on the face, left two lines down his left cheek.

  “Goddamn you, lady.” He smacked her on the back of the head.

  The assault drew Leo’s ire. He shifted to his knees and dove into Percy, knocking him away from Beth and into the cabin wall. Leo managed a few blows to Percy’s ribs before the third guy pulled him off.

  “Do I need to use my gun again?” Medrick yelled. “You people are hell-bent on killing yourselves in here.” He aimed the weapon at Beth’s head. “Look over here, man.”

  Leo refused to do so. Medrick nodded at the third guy, who grabbed a handful of Leo’s hair and forced him to face his sister-in-law.

  “You want to see what her brains look like?” Medrick said. “What about the baby’s? Ever wonder what a newborn’s insides smell like? Because I’m sure as shit happy to show you if you want to keep acting up.”

  Leo’s hardened look softened and tears welled in his eyes.

  “That’s what I thought,” Medrick said, shifting his aim toward Leo. “Now tell me you’re sorry.”

  Leo looked away and said nothing.

  Medrick pulled back the hammer. “Tell me you’re sorry.” He said the words slowly and deliberately, almost like he was counting down a warning.

  Sean studied the man. There was an arrogance there. Not that he’d lived any kind of life before the outbreak, not an honorable one, at least. But he had the kind of streak through him that allowed him to capitalize on it. Maybe he’d been that way his entire life, preying on the weak. But there were few weak left. They succumbed to the afflicted. So Medrick stepped up his game. To put fear in those who had strength, he had to appear more terrifying than humanity’s common enemy.

  Leo held up a hand, shielding his face. “I’m sorry.” The words hung in the air between them. For a moment, it appeared Medrick was going to follow through on the threat laid down when he readied his revolver.

  The corners of Medrick’s lips twitched, giving way to a toothy grin. He de-cocked the .357 and lowered the barrel toward the ground. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” He nodded at the third guy, who helped Percy off the ground.

  Leo turned his back on Medrick and went to Beth’s side to check on her and the baby.

  Medrick turned to Sean. “Shit is just getting way out of control in here. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Sean held the man’s steady gaze and said nothing.

  “Wouldn’t you agree, man?” He paused a beat. “What’s your name again?”

  “Sean.”

  Medrick wiped his lips and nose with his sleeve, made a face when he looked at the results. “You delivered that baby?”

  Sean nodded.

  “You don’t look like a doctor. I mean, no offense, but haven’t seen many MDs running around, or I guess I should say hobbling around on a wooden leg.”

  Sean didn’t return the guy’s smile.

  “Anyhoo,” Medrick said. “Nurse? Paramedic?”

  “Something like that.”

  Medrick nodded a couple times. “We could use a guy like you. So many people get fucked up daily in this crazy ass world we’re living in. Maybe our doc has something better than a twig to stick under your knee. Whaddya think about that?”

  Sean didn’t respond.

  “How’d that happen anyway?” Medrick asked. Then he threw up a finger and put it up to his lips for a moment. “Wait, don’t tell me. Military. Right? Got that shit blown off, didn’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  Medrick crossed his arms. The barrel of his revolver poked out from under his left armpit. If there were ever a time for Sean to attack, this was it. He glanced at the floor to gauge whether he could clear the distance in one step. Perhaps Medrick read his mind, because the guy dro
pped his arms and walked away, saying, “We can definitely use a guy like you, Sean.”

  Was it a foregone conclusion that he’d go? What if he refused?

  The baby let out a stifled cry that turned into a yawn. The three men who’d invaded the house all stared down at it. Percy stuck out his index finger with his thumb drawn back. He pretended to fire at the little guy.

  “I’ll go,” Sean said. “I’ll go if you’ll guarantee safe passage for the infant, and Beth and Leo.”

  “And if we don’t?” Medrick challenged him. “If that little runt starts bawling in the woods and I take it upon myself to silence him?”

  Sean shuffled forward, playing up the fact he only had one leg that extended below the knee. “Then you’ll get a quick lesson on who I really am.”

  Medrick’s eyes narrowed and he leaned his head to the side as though he wasn’t used to anyone speaking to him the way Sean just had, and he was debating on how to handle it. The room went so silent you could hear the draft punching through the shut door.

  “Got yourself a deal, Sean.” Medrick stuck out his hand, but Sean refused to take it.

  “Boss,” Percy said. “What about this dude? I still don’t like the looks of that gash. What if he turns?”

  “Doctor Sean,” Medrick said, making a production out of it. “What’s your professional opinion of Leo’s arm here?”

  “Told you already,” Sean said. “A gash from a branch, something like that. Needs attention, more than can be provided here. If he turns, it’ll be because he dies from infection, not because he’s afflicted.”

  “Hear that, Percy? Doctor Sean has spoken.”

  “I think he’s full of shit,” Percy said.

  “We’ll let Doc decide that. And if he agrees, we’ll let these two settle it in the pit.” Medrick smiled again as his gaze flitted between Sean and Leo. “Besides, ain’t like he’s gonna turn on the ride back. You’ve seen that shit happen. He’s gotta die first. We know how to handle that.”

  Sean focused on the words ride back. Did they have a vehicle that could fit them all? If so, was all this about the baby making noise for show? Were they wanting to see how much the small group would resist? Would they have gone as far as to kill the infant?