by Russ Watts
“Forever,” he whispered back, and he brushed his fingers through her long hair. He wasn’t sure if he loved her, but he knew she loved him.
“Let’s move.” Javier stood up and walked over the rough yard to the bike. It was nothing special, just something they had picked up a month back outside of Owensboro. He had ridden Yamahas before, so he found it easy to handle. Annoyingly, the bike was ten years old, and as smooth as riding a donkey down a dirt track. He was on the look out for a Harley, or maybe even a Ducati, but so far, they had been out of luck. The only garage they had come across recently had been ransacked. There were nothing left but spare parts and a dead man with a bullet in his skull.
Javier mounted the bike and felt Rose climb on behind him. Her arms wrapped around his waist as he stirred the machine into life. More zombies were coming through the park now, probably drawn by the noise of the gunshot. There was nobody else around, certainly nobody alive to pique the zombies’ curiosity. Turning around, Javier pulled them out onto the road, and let the engine idle as he looked around at Jeffersontown one last time. It had been a brief, but necessary rest stop. Having been on the road for several days, and running low on supplies, they needed the break. He knew it was too dangerous to go into the cities, and Louisville was no exception. It had succumbed quickly to the disease, and was now full of rabid zombies who for the most part, stayed there picking off the final survivors. Javier had no intention of becoming just another victim, and had only gone in as far as he had to. The back of the bike was packed full of food and water, a couple of guns, but not much else. They travelled light, and he liked it that way. The houses they had come across in town had been stocked, so they could have taken a hell of a lot more, but the more crap you carried, the more difficult it was to run. Moreover, they had done plenty of running of late, far more than he would’ve liked. The dead could still sneak up on you if you weren’t careful, and in the early days, he had spent a lot of time running from one place to another, not really knowing where he was going, or what he was doing. There were runners too, really fast motherfuckers who could just run and run and run. Avoiding them wasn’t easy.
Then he’d met Rose. She was holed up in a small Korean grocery store, and by chance, he had run in there to escape the attention of a herd of dead school kids. She hadn’t even locked the front door, just pushed a few crates in front of it, which he had easily brushed aside. They stayed quietly inside for a full day waiting for the dead to leave, to go and find someone else to eat. In the meantime they talked, ate, drank, and finally fucked. Ever since then, since those days spent cooped up together, she had been by his side like a loyal hound. He hadn’t quite known what to make of her at first, but she was interesting. He asked her about her past, but she kept it brief and glossed over a lot of it. It was all irrelevant now anyway. It helped pass the time, but where you came from had little relevance to where you were going in a world full of the dead.
Javier sped up and drove down the deserted streets, past burnt out buildings. Cars littered the road and the sidewalks, but there were few bodies around. At first, the dead had been left to rot in the streets, but eventually, they had either reanimated, or been eaten by the others. Only skeletal carcasses were visible now, and it was possible Javier and Rose were the only people still alive in Jeffersontown. It had been a couple of days since they had seen anyone alive, and even then, it was only from a distance. They’d passed a gated school just off I-65 and kept well away. A crowd of at least fifty zombies had it circled and were battering at the doors and walls. Up on the roof there was a figure, too far off to see clearly, but most likely one of the teachers who worked there. The figure waved their hands above their head and shouted, but there was nothing they could do for them. Javier kept driving and watched the school recede into the distance as he drove them on, away from danger. They had a limited supply of ammo, and he wasn’t about to waste it on some old fart who would only be a drain on their resources. Javier knew asking for help was a sign of weakness; he didn’t expect any, and didn’t give any.
As they reached the edge of town, Javier turned a corner and hit the brakes. Right in the middle of the road stood a boy, no older than fourteen or fifteen, staring right at them. He wasn’t moving, speaking, or doing anything, just standing there as plain as day right on the centre line. Javier stopped the bike ten feet short of the boy, and looked him over. The boy had probably been scavenging for months. He was skinny and dirty, with pale skin that was covered in spots. His dishevelled hair was long and greasy, and his clothes torn and filthy. The boy raised a shaking hand.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please, I need…”
The boy swayed before collapsing to his knees. Javier dismounted and looked around. It could be a trap. The boy might be playing a trick, or his friends could be lying in wait nearby, ready to pounce and take the bike and supplies. They’d most likely kill Javier, and take Rose too. That was not going to happen. Javier carefully looked at the houses on both sides of the street, scanning the gardens and fences for watching eyes, but he found none.
“What’s happening?” asked Rose.
Javier watched her withdraw a blade from her boot. “Just keep your eyes open. Yell if you see anything. I’m going to check it out.” Rose remained seated, as Javier hopped off the bike. He walked slowly up to the boy.
“What’s your name?” Javier asked. There was no friendliness in his tone, and he wanted it that way. If he showed the slightest hint of weakness, the boy was likely to use it. In this world, strength was the new currency. Weakness meant you were a victim, and victims died quickly these days.
“Please, help me,” the boy whispered. He looked up and wiped wiry hair away from his eyes with grubby fingers.
Javier pinched his nose. It smelt like the boy had soiled himself, and on closer inspection, it seemed his clothes were drenched in blood. Javier pulled his gun out, but kept it low by his thigh.
“Name. Now.”
The boy’s breathing was shallow and he shuffled forward on his knees. “Noah. I’m Noah. Please sir, I heard you coming and I…” The boy hesitated when he saw the gun, before continuing. “Please, I haven’t eaten in days. Take me with you. It’s hell here. They’re spread thin, but they’re everywhere. I don’t know how to drive. My parents are dead. Well, you know, they were before they came back and... I can’t live like this. Please, sir, please, you have to help me.”
Javier could see the pain in the boy’s eyes; he was telling the truth. He had done well to survive this long if he was on his own. Without weapons, without help, going from house to house looking for food and clean water was no way to live. Javier could testify to that. He heard Rose come up behind him.
“He’s just a kid,” she said. She sheathed the blade and folded her arms. “Is he bit?”
“You hurt?” asked Javier. There was a lot of blood drying on the boy’s clothes.
Noah shook his head. “No, I’m okay. I’m just hungry. Do you have any food?”
The boy’s eyes betrayed his desperation, and they looked from Javier to Rose before settling on the bike, and then the pack of supplies tied to the rear. Javier took a step to the side to block the boy’s view. Young Noah was getting ahead of himself.
“I need to know you’re not bit. Pull up your shirt and turn around, slowly.”
Noah got to his feet and did as he was told. He unbuttoned his shirt, and lifted it showing them his pale, grimy body. His slender frame was filthy, but there were no bite marks.
“I told you, I’m clean,” said Noah as he buttoned his shirt back up.
“You’re hardly clean,” muttered Rose, “stay there.”
She took Javier’s arm and drew him back to the bike so she could talk without being overheard. “Javier, what are we going to do with him? If I shuffled forward, we could just about squeeze him on the back of the bike. Or, I suppose we could find somewhere safe to stay? Maybe feed him up a bit before we send him on his way? We can’t just leave him.”
Javier looked b
ack at Noah, who was waiting patiently. The boy was harmless. God knows how he had made it this long. His parents had probably saved him from much of it, but evidently, they hadn’t quite stuck around long enough to see it through. The boy was starving, and unlikely to make it much longer without help. “You remember me telling you about the native American Eagles. The way they soared through the sky was amazing, so effortless and powerful and free. I saw a programme once where the male returned to the nest, only to find his mate was dead. She’d been poisoned. You know they only mate once in their lives. A dumb animal like that showed more loyalty than any person I’ve ever met.”
Rose looked up at Javier with puppy-dog eyes. “Hey, I’m right here.”
“Present company excluded.” Javier knew that was what she wanted to hear. He tapped the gun on his thigh as he thought. “I’m not so convinced we can take him with us. We travel light, remember? We only have enough water for two, and it’s gonna be real snug on that bike with three. We’ve got a lot of riding before we even get close to the Canadian border. You want to ride all the way there with Noah holding onto your ass?”
“No, but, oh I don’t know. It’s up to you, honey. You’re my eagle.” Rose got onto the back of the bike. “Better hurry up though. I think we’ve got company.”
Javier looked to where Rose was pointing. An assortment of people, all dead, was slowly making their way down the street in the direction of the bike. Drawn by the noise of the engine, the zombies had emerged from hiding, from the shops and houses, the park, and the abandoned vehicles. All were now heading directly for Javier and Rose.
“Get her started.” Javier watched Rose lean forward and turn over the engine. She winked at her lover, and then he returned to Noah.
Noah smiled, showing Javier a set of brown teeth. “Thank you. I promise I won’t be any trouble. I haven’t got any stuff so we should get going. Should I sit behind your girlfriend?”
Javier sighed. “I’m sorry, kid, but you’re not coming with us.”
“What? But I’m clean! I mean, I’m not bit. I showed you. Come on, man, just take me as far as you can and…” Noah could tell his pleading was falling on deaf ears.
Javier slowly raised the gun, and pointed it at Noah’s chest. From this range, he could not miss. Hell, he wouldn’t miss if he was fifty yards away and it was raining frogs. He probably had a minute before the dead reached them, and he felt for the boy, he really did. At least when his own mother had abandoned him, he had been half prepared for it. He had grown up on the streets, moving from place to place. This kid had almost certainly gone to a good school, been looked after, been well fed by his loving parents, and was in no way prepared for the life he faced now.
“What happened to your parents, Noah?” Javier asked.
“They’re dead, I told you. Look, what’s that got to do with…”
Javier cocked the trigger. “What happened?”
Noah looked frantically from side to side, but the empty streets offered no salvation. “They got caught a few days ago. We were out looking for food and... It was an accident. I managed to get away, but they…”
Noah was trembling. His eyes were filling up, and Javier could guess the rest of the story. Still, he wanted to know.
“Go on.”
Noah wiped his eyes and smeared fresh dirt across his face. “They came back. Yesterday. I didn’t know what to do so I ran. I just left them, and I ran and I ran and… They followed me, along with some others. I tripped and ended up in a creek, just behind the warehouse over there. It was full of dead bodies. They’d all been shot through the head, and they were rotting. The smell was horrific. It was so disgusting that I would’ve puked if I had anything inside me to bring up. It must’ve worked as they eventually gave up and left me be. I stayed there all night and day. Then I heard you coming and…”
Noah began sobbing and Javier lowered his weapon. He put it back in his belt as he approached the boy. He slipped an arm around Noah’s shoulders, and the boy instantly clung to him, soaking Javier’s shirt with his tears.
“Hush, Noah, hush.” Javier looked over to see the zombies approaching. He had about thirty seconds to spare. Rose was looking anxious, and signalling for him to hurry up.
“You know what?” Noah kept crying and Javier stroked the boy’s tangled hair. “I had a rough time of it too,” said Javier. “I know how hard it can be on your own, on the streets. I took a shine to a dog once, just a stray, but he seemed to like me. I guess we had something in common so we hung out for a bit. Tucker. Don’t ask me where that name came from, but it stuck. I was young and stupid. Anyway, he started walking with a limp one day, and it just got worse. I was living rough, and didn’t have the money for a vet, so I just let him drift. The day after, he could barely walk at all, and the day after that, he wouldn’t move at all. Tucker was dying, I knew it, but I didn’t know what to do. I just stayed with him until he finally passed. He was in pain, I knew that too, but still I let him live as long as I possibly could. He was my dog, and I wanted him with me as long as possible. That mangy dog hung on for four days, whimpering in pain at all times of the night. I learned my lesson though, and I vowed never to let a wounded creature suffer again. I was selfish. Best to put ‘em out of their misery right away. You know what I’m saying, son?”
Noah didn’t answer. The crying had stopped, but the boy was holding onto Javier; he had nothing else to hold on to. He was shaking and Javier could almost feel the boy relax. Silently, he drew a knife out from a hidden pocket.
“It’s for the best. I’ll stay with you,” said Javier as he flicked the knife open.
As the blade pierced Noah’s neck, the boy began to struggle, but Javier held him tight. He plunged the knife further, severing the boy’s major artery, and warm blood spewed out. Javier was careful to keep most of it away from him. He didn’t relish being covered in blood. Human bodies could break so easily. Most of the undead died cleanly: no blood, no mess.
Noah kicked, and gripped Javier’s waist, but the life was quickly slipping away from him. The boy hadn’t the energy to fight, and in just a few seconds, it was over. Javier carefully laid Noah on the ground, and wiped his knife clean before sheathing it.
“Sleep well, boy.”
Javier strode back to the bike and got on. He gripped the handlebars, and said nothing. Rose wrapped her arms around him, and let her head fall on his strong back. The bike started moving, and the zombies groaned almost as one as their prey left them. Rose watched them recede with the rest of the town, and began to wonder where they would end up next.
As they passed Noah’s body, Javier looked into the boy’s lifeless eyes. He couldn’t afford to waste a bullet, and had tried to make it as painless as possible. The poor kid would’ve been dead before the week was out. Being eaten alive was no way to go. He had tried to prepare the boy too, as best he could. Javier was not a religious man, and prayers meant nothing to him. He had tried calling on God for help many times when he was younger, but there was never an answer. He hoped the story about Tucker had given the boy some sort of peace. Javier had never had a dog in truth. Who had the time to look after one when you barely had food for yourself? It seemed like the right thing to say at the time. Devoid of any knowledge of the Bible, it seemed like it was appropriate.
Rose looked at Noah longingly. It had been so long since she had felt the life drain out of someone that she wished Noah had come along on the bike. She could’ve slit his throat while he slept, or seduced him and had some fun before she let him bleed out. Javier never let her have fun anymore. The blade in her boot was aching with the need to kill, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. Taking down a zombie just wasn’t the same. It was already dead. Where was the fun in killing something already dead? She needed to feel the warm breath of a man on her face as she cut out his heart. She forced herself to forget about it, and held onto Javier’s waist. One day, Rose thought, Javier won’t be around, and then the time will come.
&n
bsp; The bike sped up and Jeffersontown was left behind. The sun rose higher illuminating the barren streets, and the zombies fell upon Noah’s body, devouring it quickly, leaving only scraps of clothing and his shoes behind. They sucked on his bones, wiping them clean, licking off every last inch of blood and tissue. When they were done there was nothing left, so they continued their meandering deadly sojourn down the streets of Jeffersontown, following the trail of the bike.
CHAPTER TWO
“Kill the dead! Kill them all!” screamed Jonas. Saliva and rage flew from his mouth as he launched himself at the nearest zombie, the axe in his hand jarring sickeningly with bone. The zombie’s head neatly fell to the side leaving the decapitated corpse blundering about aimlessly before sinking to the floor. Jonas swung again, heaving the bloody axe from side to side, and sinking its delicious blade into arms and heads. There was no time to think about what he was doing. Within seconds, it had turned to chaos, and he had no idea who was safe and who wasn’t. All he could do was fight.
“Help!”
Jonas turned to see who had cried out. It was Anna. She was locked in the embrace of a dead woman with the creature’s arms wrapped around her body. As Jonas turned to rush to Anna’s aid, the zombie sunk its teeth into the side of her face, tearing off a massive chunk of flesh. Anna howled in pain and Jonas could see the top row of teeth through the hole in her cheek. The zombie sunk its teeth into Anna again, and was quickly joined by another who bit Anna’s neck. In seconds, she was engulfed by them, and Jonas no longer heard any cries for help. His friend was gone, submerged beneath a pile of moving corpses.
A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he whirled around to find the fragile, bony fingers of a zombie gripping him. Grunting with the effort, he managed to lift his axe with his free hand, and slice off the creature’s arm, leaving its bony hand still wrapped around his forearm. He swung again and the axe embedded itself in the dead man’s cranium. Jonas lost his grip on the axe as the zombie fell to the ground, the weapon still firmly lodged in its skull.
