The Plague Runner

by Burgy, P. J.

  “Good luck.” Kara stood with Lena for a moment before pulling the girl behind the nearest car while Dale stepped languidly after her. “Don’t you want to watch?”

  “I’ll be watching you,” Dale told her.

  Kara peered over the top of the car and saw Sped push Russell toward the garage. Sped turned on his lantern, set it down on the parked car behind him, and then pulled down the garage door.

  “So, how long you’d been married?” Dale asked.

  A shrill scream sounded from inside of the garage and Dale scrambled to turn around toward the house. The metal sheeting of the garage door bowed out, the impact loud and leaving behind a vaguely human shaped dent. Crashing, banging, screaming. Three smaller imprints, about the size of a human skull, popped out in quick succession across the garage door, each accompanied by a crunch and an ever weakening cry of pain and terror.

  “Holy bejesus!” Dale cried out, gun up, and made for the garage door. He was trying to open it with one hand, his gun in the other, forced to dip low toward the ground.

  Kara was on him in a second, taking the opportunity to stomp on the hand holding the gun while he was close to the ground. He screamed in pain as she broke his fingers, his grip on the gun loosened enough for her to kick it away from him.

  Then, she leapt onto his back, legs wrapping around his middle, and got her elbow under his jaw. She fought his helmet off while he toppled over backward. She was trying to choke him out, her arm tightening around his throat even as he tried to hit her, or peel her off of him.

  He wasn’t so strong, not as big as his son; he’d relied too long on being the man with the gun. Her free hand gripped her left elbow, holding her arm in place. With the pounding of her heart deafening her, Kara clenched her jaw, eyes unfocused and narrowed as she held onto Dale, arm tightening as she cut off the blood flow to his brain. His struggling became weaker and weaker until he stopped moving. It felt like it took an eternity.

  Kara continued to hold onto him for a little longer, hearing the terrible noises from the garage beside her. Crunching. Tearing. Body aching and muscles screaming, Kara finally separated from Dale and stumbled to her feet, trying to catch her breath.

  She saw Lena standing by Angel, the girl’s eyes wide and afraid. How long had that all taken? How long had Lena been staring, horrified? It was quiet now. The screaming had stopped. A calmness had descended on Kara and she picked up her pocketknife, putting it away. Lena licked her lips, shivering.

  “It’s okay,” Kara said.

  Russell banged on the other side of the garage door, breaking the silence abruptly, the sound of his fist wet and heavy. Kara stood in front of the dented, bowed metal sheeting and replied with the side of her own fist, banging back.

  Russell’s voice was muffled. “I have a question.”

  “If it’s if you can eat him, the answer is yes,” Kara replied.

  Lena gasped.

  “That wasn’t it.” The garage door opened, Russell pulling it up from the inside. The blood on the cement floor was shining and wet, the half-naked body of the broken Red Brethren man left near the back of the room, crumpled up like a ruined ragdoll. Russell was wearing the man’s clothes, from the leather jacket to the green and purple helmet.

  The jacket fit him well, but the shirt was a little tight across the chest. His faded, patched blue jeans looked comfortable if not a little snug. Russell had kept his own boots. He stepped out onto the driveway, closing his gloved hands and admiring his new look from behind the closed visor.

  Kara blinked at him. “What were you going to ask then?”

  “If I’d look better with the flame helmet,” Russell said.

  Kara scoffed, her heart still beating hard in her chest, and she turned away from him. Reaching down, she grabbed the gun and slung it over her shoulder. “There’s bound to supplies in the house they were squatting in. Come on. Let’s see what they’ve got.”

  “What? I think it looks cool,” Russell called from behind her.

  In the Brethren’s hideaway, Kara found pots and pans, beans, venison jerky, and dried fruit. There was a large glass container of fermenting alcohol in the bathroom, and boxes of bullets sitting on the sink nearby. The barbwire bat was cumbersome to carry and Kara left it on the floor in the bedroom as she went through their boxes and crates. Lena watched, holding onto a pillow she’d found on the bed, and leaned on the doorway as Russell helped by opening some storage containers and looking inside. Clothing. Books. Old, withered magazines with scantily dressed women on the covers.

  Kara found a big knife in a black leather sheath and took it, hooking it onto her belt. They had batteries, and she took them, throwing them into a duffle bag she’d discovered under the bed. They had water filters and cups, flasks and thermoses. Kara took it all, adding it to the duffle bag along with any clean blankets and towels she could find.

  “Packing for the hard winter?” Russell asked.

  “Packing for the unforeseen future,” Kara replied, grabbing for a handgun, loading it, and then studying the piece in her hand. She stashed it away into the holster she’d attached to her belt.

  “Can we stay here tonight?” Lena asked.

  “Too close to the city,” Kara answered. “We can get further in the next few hours and find a better place. We can't risk being tracked.”

  “They won’t track us at all.” Russell said. “They don’t need to. They know where we’re going.”

  Kara grimaced. “That they do.”

  Russell cleared his throat. “You realize I don’t know the way to Blue Lagoon.”

  “Just get us to the business district and I’ll lead from there,” Kara said.

  “Why don’t we get going then?” Russell said. “You two, take the horse-”

  Lena coughed. “Angel.”

  “Sure. Ride as fast as you can. I’ll try not to get too far ahead.” Russell might have been smiling under the visor by the sound of his voice. He left the room and went downstairs before Kara could respond.

  The next few hours were exhilarating despite the painful ache in Kara’s chest. There were memories that came and went, images of Salvation burning and Ash’s smile passing through her mind. But the horse was running full speed, and Lena was laughing as they rode hard, keeping pace with Russell right beside them through the streets leading out of the city. He was incredible, wasn’t he?

  Kara held tight to the reigns, glancing over at the Infected man, the self-aware, intelligent Wailer. He was scaling cars, jumping over obstacles. Kara turned to face ahead again, the business district coming into view in the distance.

  Kara took the lead and soon the road grew narrow and houses began to appear. With a few more hours left in the day, they pressed onward, stopping only to let the horse have a drink and eat some grass, and to allow Russell to catch and kill a coyote.

  Lena had to look away while he ate his prize, hiding in the shadows of a crumbling house. As evening grew closer and closer, the sun beginning to dip in the sky and the colors becoming vibrant reds and blues, the need for shelter became pressing and Kara scoured the area for a safe place to bunk down for the night. Kara recognized the farmhouse off to the right and spurred Angel in that direction. Russell figured it out and ran on ahead, reaching the structure before she did.

  After he had given the place a thorough check, Kara and Lena looked for a place to keep Angel for the night. The farmhouse had a barn adjacent to it and he accompanied her to the big doors. It took Russell’s brute strength to get them open, years of rust having sealed the hinges, and they found it empty save for dried hay and crusty water troughs.

  Lena appeared nearby. “We need to get water for her. There’s a creek behind the house. I found a bucket. There’s an apple tree too. Ponies love apples. Come on.”

  Russell groaned.

  With what little daylight was left, Russell took buckets of water to the barn as Lena followed after him, eating an apple and watching as he dumped the buckets into the trough. Kara found
it amusing to watch Lena boss him around, telling him to get another bucket’s worth and all the while asking him random questions.

  “I thought the Infected were afraid of water,” Lena said, following after Russell as he poured the last bucket of water into the filled trough. She bit into the apple as he turned to look at her.

  In the low light, Russell lifted the helmet visor. “I’m not afraid of a little creek. But, yes, typically, big bodies of water, rivers, wide streams… The Infected are afraid of those.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. We don’t swim, I guess. We’d drown,” Russell replied, dropping the bucket to the floor of the barn and pointing toward the door. “Come on. Time to go into the house.”

  “Maybe you could float,” Lena suggested.

  “No, we sink. Like anchors.”

  “What’s an anchor?”

  “It’s heavy and made of metal. Attaches to boats. Keeps them from drifting too far from where they’re docked. Come on.”

  “Could you swim before?” Lena asked.

  “I don’t know. We need to get inside. Come on.”

  “She’ll need apples,” Lena said.

  “What?”

  “Apples. Angel will be hungry.”

  “You won’t pick enough apples to feed a horse. There’s hay in here. She can eat that,” Russell muttered, again signaling to Lena.

  “This hay is old! She can’t eat that. It’s all gross.” Lena placed her hands on her hips.

  “What do you want me to do about it?” Russell asked, “I’m not picking apples for the horse. She can eat grass in the morning.”

  “She carried you. You should show some respect.” Lena pursed her lips.

  “It’ll be dark soon.”

  “Then you’d better hurry, yes?” Lena walked off toward Kara, who had been watching from the open barn door. Lena took Kara’s hand and then glanced back at Russell. “Angel’s a good pony. You don’t want her to be tired and hungry tomorrow, do you?”

  “I can’t believe this…” Russell grabbed the bucket again. “Fine. I’ll get your horse some apples.”

  “You’ll have to cut them into pieces, so she doesn’t choke,” Lena called back at Russell as Kara laughed, taking the girl toward the farmhouse, walking through the overgrown grass.

  The sound of Russell’s groan echoed from inside the barn.

  The sun had set and Kara was using the red light to guide Lena into a room upstairs. The house was crumbling, the ceiling cracked and the plaster flaking to the carpeted floors, but the roof was intact and the windows, though broken and missing pieces of glass, were small and lined with bars.

  This had been a survivor house at one point, Kara was sure of it. There was a kitchen, the cabinets raided long ago, and a huge dining room with a round, wooden table and chairs. The living room had a banged up, dusty couch and a sturdy old coffee table. The TV had been smashed, the glass glistening in the fibers of the rug. There was a basement, which Russell took a look at first before declaring safe, and a small powder room near the foyer. A latch and a locking bar had been installed into the front door, on the inside, as well as on the backdoor. They had fortified this house and then left it for some reason.

  Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a large bathroom, the shower large with a sliding glass door. The master bedroom had its own bathroom, standing shower, and a huge, walk-in closet. The floors were littered with clothing and trash in every room, the bed sheets pulled back like the occupants had been woken in the middle of the night for their exodus. It reminded Kara of the beds from Pleasant Tree and she shivered.

  Kara and Lena had some water and ate some of the venison jerky, slices of freshly cut apple set neatly in little stacks on a plate beside them. They were sitting on the floor of the master bedroom while Russell sat in the corner, watching, his helmet at his side. Kara had the lantern on, the red light glowing faintly, not as strong as her flashlight. Still, it was better than eating in the dark. Lena held up her cup toward Russell and he shook his head.

  “Don’t you drink water?” Lena asked.

  “I… I don’t think I do, no.”

  Lena looked puzzled. “Don’t you get thirsty?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “Oh. Do you want a piece of apple?” Lena asked.

  “No. No, thank you.” Russell shook his head again.

  Lena held out an offering. “Try some.”

  He crept over, took some from her and then sniffed it. Revulsion instantly warped his features and he dry heaved, dropping the pieces of apple on the floor. When he realized what he'd done, he tried to pick up the pieces and scoop them back into Lena's hand, but found she'd pulled away.

  “Oh no,” the girl said.

  “Oops.”

  “Did you want to go out and hunt, Russ?” Kara studied his face. She saw his large, black pupils move over her face.

  He had wiped himself off earlier, in the garage, while getting changed, but there was little he could do to prevent the black oil from seeping from his tear ducts down his cheeks. She’d gotten used to the smell of him, oddly enough, though it bothered her to know that the scent of the Infected might slip by her by accident if she weren’t careful.

  He ran his gloved fingers through his dirty blonde hair, his gaze shifting to the window. “I shouldn’t leave you alone,” he replied.

  “We’ll be fine, I promise,” she told him. “Go ahead.”

  He appeared to give it some thought, and then pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll make it quick.”

  He left them there, heading down the steps and leaving through the front door. Kara could hear the door close, and then it became quiet in the room.

  Kara continued to eat, picking up an apple slice, and saw that Lena was leaning close to her. “What’s up?”

  “What if we get there too late and everyone is dead?” Lena asked.

  “We’ll get there in time. You’ll see.”

  “Meredith said I was only one who lived,” Lena said. “The only one who didn’t turn, or die, I mean. Does that mean that some of them are Wailers now, Kara? Do you think my mom is a Wailer? I didn’t see her die.”

  “Don’t think about that right now, Lena.” Kara brushed the girl’s hair away from her face, staring at her eyes and trying to smile. She pulled her in for a hug. “We have to get to Blue Lagoon and warn them. We can’t let it happen again.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I’m scared too, you know. It’s going to be okay though. Blue Lagoon is a safe place, and there’s a lake. The walls are high. There’s a lot of guards there,” Kara said.

  Lena sighed. “Pleasant Tree had high walls and guards too.”

  “But they didn’t know what was coming. We can warn Blue Lagoon. It will be different.” Kara pulled Lena close and then gave her another hug. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “I hope I can. I had bad dreams in the cage.”

  “No bad dreams here. We’re safe. I’m protecting you.” Kara said.

  “And Russell too, right? He’s protecting me too?” Lena asked.

  “Yeah, both of us are.” Kara nodded.

  In the dark room, Kara looked up at the ceiling at the fuzzy, vague shape of the ceiling lamp. Next to her on the bed, Lena breathed softly, asleep, buried in the covers with her head pushed into a pillow.

  Unsure of what had woken her, Kara sighed softly. She had chosen to stay above the covers, her sneakers on, her hands on her stomach and her knife at her side. There was just enough moonlight to give everything in the bedroom an unearthly, somber glow, but with the moon waning and the clouds passing, there were moments of total darkness that came and went as she tried to concentrate on falling asleep again.

  She heard the door opening downstairs, and then it was being closed, quietly, delicately. The bar was latched into place next. There was a soft sloshing noise, the stairs only creaking slightly as Russell climbed them. She wondered what he was up to and sat up, looking to the open d
oorway. When he came back into the room, he saw her eyes on him and waved weakly. Kara returned the gesture.

  In the low light, she could see that his hair was damp and shining. He was holding his jacket, and he dropped it to the floor in the corner of the room. When he came to stand closer to the bed, she noted that he didn’t stink as much as he normally did. It wasn’t just her nose. He’d washed himself off before coming back in.

  She mouthed ‘Hi’, her voice barely a whisper.

  He smirked, copying her, ‘Hi’. Then, he gestured to her, taking a step toward the door. He did it again when Kara raised an eyebrow at him and began to sit up.

  Kara sat on the side of the bed, stood up, and made her way over to him where he stood. He ushered her into the hallway, down a few feet from the open door.

  “If you want to clean off. I brought clean water,” Russell told her, his voice low. “It’s not warm, I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve taken cold baths before. I can handle it.”

  “Ah, yeah.” He nodded toward the hallway bathroom, moving away from the door. She pushed the door the rest of the way open and saw the shape of two buckets on the cracked, tile floor. He’d even set some towels on the sink, and he fidgeted while Kara squinted into the shadows. “So, there you go.”

  “Thank you, Russ. I think I’ll do that now.”

  “No problem.” He coughed softly and then walked away, toward the bedroom. “I was thinking, I should probably sleep on the couch. I’ll be more useful down there, keeping guard. Closer to the ground.”

  “Well, you can do that. But I feel like we should talk, Russ. There’s a lot I want to say to you. Sit with me?” She gazed at Russell's shadowy form, observing the way he swayed near the steps.

  “Sit with you? In there?” He gestured toward the bathroom.

  She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be behind the glass. It’ll be okay.”

  “I, ah…”

  “I’ll grab the lantern. If you don’t want to, I understand, but I’d rather talk about some things now, and not when Lena’s awake. Do you understand?”