by M. D. Massey
Later that evening, I took off on foot to do some recon of the area behind the roadblock. I packed light so I could move fast if necessary, and soon had eyes on their compound, such as it was. From the looks of it, they used a combination of metal shipping containers, cars and trucks that had been flipped up on their sides, and chain link fence to secure a roughly two block area.
Whoever these guys were, they were organized, because you didn’t just fart and build a perimeter like that in a few days. I saw a few people milling around inside the compound, and I could hear genny running in the background too. They had spotlights set up around the place that gave just enough to light to see inside the compound and outside the wall. Every now and again a sentry would shoot a shambler who came too close.
The wall sentries appeared to be using .22 rifles to take out the deaders. I wasn’t sure, but it appeared that they used either subsonic ammo, or they had silenced their rifles. Smart. So, the person in charge wasn’t your average everyday clown. Good to know.
I needed to get inside that compound; or, at least, I needed to get some intel from someone inside. There were sentries on all the buildings, but they didn’t have night vision, and I knew they couldn’t watch every quadrant at once. I’d just sit and watch them, and wait until I saw an opportunity to enter the compound and find out what happened to my mom and dad.
Before long, I saw my opening. I noticed that there was a fenced in area behind a restaurant, probably where they had stored their trash cans and whatnot. I also noticed that every so often someone would come out the back door of the place and relieve themselves through the fence, probably so they didn’t waste water flushing the toilets unnecessarily inside. After watching a few of them come outside to piss, I made a snap decision and jumped the fence.
Sure enough, within the hour someone walked outside to take a leak. I hid behind the door as it opened, and then snuck up behind the guy and choked him out before he knew what hit him. He smelled like booze and body odor, which was probably better than I smelled at the moment, all things considered. Thankfully, he was a small guy, so after I figured out how to unlock the gate, I had little trouble carrying him a ways off so I could duct tape his mouth and zip-tie him up without being disturbed.
I hoofed it back to the house where I had my truck stowed, only needing to stop once on the way to choke him out again.
Once back at the house, I zip-tied him to a kitchen chair and waited in the dark for him to come around. Sometimes when you choke someone out they regain consciousness right away, but if there’s alcohol involved they can be out for several minutes. Finally, I got tired of waiting and ended up slapping him around a bit until he came to.
“Huh… whah?” the guy mumbled as he slowly came around. As his eyes fluttered open, he took stock of his situation quickly and I saw his shoulders slump. “Aw hell. Get that light out of my eyes, will ya? It’s giving me a headache. Shit.”
Well, this was different. Apparently either this guy was used to being abducted and tied up, or he had balls the size of bowling balls. I continued to shine the light in his face and looked him over. He was about 5’9”, give or take, skinny in a rangy sort of way, with long dirty blonde hair and a mustache and beard that would give Gandalf a run for his money. He sort of shrugged and slumped down in the chair under my gaze.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any smokes on you, would you?”
I considered playing good cop and giving him one from the stash I got back in Ingram, but decided against it. “I don’t smoke.”
“Figures.” He leaned back in the chair as much as he was able, and squinted at the light. “So, you going to tell me why I’m tied to this chair, or are you going to beat on me a while first?”
“Tell me about the people in the Winnebago.”
He tilted his head and smirked. “What, that old couple? They’re around. Pulled in yesterday, and Crank convinced them that they were better off staying with us instead of risking the road. Old man said he’d only stay the night, something about meeting his son.” He paused, and nodded at me. “I take it you’re him.”
“Guessed it in one.”
He nodded. “Look, man, no harm has come to them, at least not by us. Shit, we were trying to help them…”
I lunged forward and grabbed him by his shirt and jacket, lifting him and the chair off the ground. “What do you mean, ‘not by us’?”
His eyes widened for a split second, but that was the only indication he gave that he was rattled. “Settle down, man, settle down! We didn’t do nuthin’ to them. The old man got hurt last night when we were attacked. He was playing hero, trying to save Crank’s kid. Your old man is tough, I’ll give him that.”
I set him down again, then stepped back to listen. He craned his head at an awkward angle and rubbed his face against his jacket. Coughing, he continued. “Some weird ass shit, let me tell you. This thing came over the walls, moving fast, real fast. Not one of those slow ones—this thing could move, and it was just attacking people all helter-skelter. It went after Crank’s kid, and your old man jumped it. He got bit by it, and he hasn’t been right since. So Crank put him and your mom up in his own room, and he’s been bringing them medicine and shit, doing what he can to make sure the old guy makes it.”
I set the flashlight down on the kitchen table so it would illuminate the whole room, then pulled out another chair and sat down. “What’s your name?”
He gave me a good long look, and nodded. “Possum, they call me Possum—without an ‘O.’ On account of how I can hang anywhere, with anyone. No matter how crazy shit gets.”
I sighed and ran my hands over my head and face. “Can you take me to them?”
“Yeah, but not like this.” He shrugged, as if to indicate his current state of helplessness.
I crossed my arms and thought it over. “Can I trust you, Possum?”
He laughed. “Well, normally if you pulled something like this on one of us, we’d have to kick your ass, maybe break a few bones for the insult. But seeing as how we’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, I figure we should chalk it up to a misunderstanding. Plus, Crank promised to help your parents find you, once your dad got better. Wouldn’t be cool if I had you killed, not after Crank gave his word.”
I cut the zip ties on his legs, and then I cut his hands loose. “Just don’t try to run. I’m too tired to chase anyone; it’s been a long week.”
“For everyone, man, for everyone.” He rubbed his wrists and stood up.
“I’m Aidan, by the way.”
He gave a short nod. “I know. Now c’mon, let’s get you over to see your parents.”
15
Wounded
Possum was smart enough to move quietly and not get chatty on our way back to the compound his MC had cobbled together. As we walked up on their perimeter, he told me to put away my guns so I wouldn’t get shot. I obliged him, but made sure I was a few steps behind him as we approached the limit of their spotlights.
Possum called out to the guys standing watch. “Don’t shoot! It’s me, Possum, and I’m bringing somebody in with me.”
I could see the silhouette of someone pointing a rifle at us from on top of the gas station. “Who you bringing with you? Is it a chick?”
“No you doofus, it’s Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan’s son. I found him earlier tonight. Well, he found me— the point is. he’s coming inside with me, and he wants to see his parents.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll drop the ladder for you.” Within a few seconds they’d dropped a 12-foot aluminum ladder down the side of the building, and we were soon scrambling up it to avoid the shamblers who had heard Possum and the sentries yelling back and forth.
A tall biker in a faded and creased leather jacket and a Jolly Roger bandana gave me a hand as I topped the ladder. He turned and slapped Possum on the shoulder. “Hey, how’d you get outside the wall? You know Crank doesn’t want anyone roaming around at night.”
Possum waved his question off. “It’s a lo
ng story, man. Anyway, this is Aidan. I’m going to take him to see Crank real quick, then he needs to see his folks.”
“Alright. Should I tell Crank you were outside the wall, or not?”
Possum shrugged. “He’s going to know in a few minutes anyway. Don’t worry about it.” At that, Possum motioned for me to follow, and we headed for the other side of the roof, climbing down another ladder to enter the compound.
As we walked, he gestured at various points of interest inside the walls. “We were heading back from a charity ride and stopped here to eat and have a few beers. That’s when shit went sideways. It was chaos at first, but Crank calmed folks down and told everyone to stay put. Once the dead people started showing up, that’s when things got weird.” I gave him a look and he shrugged. “Yeah, I know—no shit. Cops were nowhere to be seen, so Crank got people organized, we killed the goons, and then we got this perimeter set up.”
“How many of you guys are ex-military?”
“Crank and a few others. Not me—my dad was military and we never got along.” He pointed off to the northeast. “Anyway, we was going to hole up at the firehouse, but Crank said we needed resources. So, we found some heavy equipment and started barricading ourselves in. Lost a few guys at first though. Had no idea those things were attracted to sound. After that, we started setting up snipers on the buildings, which gave us time until we got the walls up.”
I looked around in awe. “How long did it take you guys to do all this?”
He shrugged. “Couple of days. We really just finished it up yesterday. That was when your dad got hurt. C’mon, let me introduce you to Crank.”
He walked inside the restaurant and I followed him in. Once inside, I could see that the booths and tables had been used to turn the place into a makeshift barracks. Possum led me through a sea of sleeping bodies and down a back hallway, where he stopped and knocked on a door, Within moments it was opened by a giant of a man. He had to be 6’6” or so, with broad shoulders and hands the size of boxing gloves. He had a grizzled salt and pepper beard, a scar above his left eye, and a look that said he didn’t take shit from anyone.
The guy took one look at me and Possum, nodded, and said, “Give me a minute.” He turned back into the room and I could hear him talking to someone inside. “No, it’s okay, the monsters aren’t going to hurt you. Go back to sleep, baby bear. Daddy just has to talk to Possum and then I’ll be right back.”
He popped back out of the room a moment later with an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry about that. He’s been having nightmares since those things first showed up.” He tilted his head at me. “Who’s this?”
Possum cleared his throat. “He’s, um, he’s Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan’s kid. He, uh, he found me earlier and I promised to take him to his folks.”
Crank crossed his arms and wiped his nose with one hand. “He snagged you while you were taking a piss outside.” He said it as a statement, not as a question.
Possum looked him in the eye and nodded. Crank shook his head. “Well, no harm done. I can see he left you in one piece. The guys told me you’d snuck over the fence and didn’t come back, so I figured you were out looking for a piece of ass to rescue or something.” He extended his hand, and I shook it. “I’m Crank. I owe your dad a hell of a debt. If he hadn’t acted when he did, I’d have lost my boy.”
“Sounds like my dad.” I noticed that Crank’s hand practically engulfed mine, but despite the iron in his grip there was no challenge there, only respect. “As I understand it, he’s been injured. I’d like to see him right away.”
Crank and Possum gave each other a knowing look. Crank cleared his throat and screwed up his face in consternation. “Well, it’s a little bit worse than that. It’s sort of hard to describe, so I’ll let you see for yourself. All I can say is, be prepared for a shock, and I’m really sorry.” Then, he motioned to us both, and we followed him back outside and next door to an auto repair shop.
I noticed a biker standing guard at the front desk. I gestured at him. “Is that for their protection, or are they being held prisoner?”
Possum responded to my question while Crank just gave me a sad look. “Ain’t nobody here a prisoner. Paco there is here to keep an eye on your mom, and help her if she needs anything.” We stopped as Crank and Possum pulled up short outside a door that said “Office.” They stepped aside and Crank nodded at the door.
“They’re inside. I set them up as comfortable as possible. We’ll wait out here—well, until you come out.”
I could tell by the looks they were giving me that this wasn’t going to be good. So, I steeled myself for the worst and stepped through the door.
As I walked in, I noticed that the desk had been removed and a bed had been set up against the far wall. Someone was sleeping fitfully in it, covered in blankets and facing away from the door. There was a recliner in the corner, a side table, and a battery-operated camping lantern. I saw a few cases of bottled water and some food stacked up on the floor, and a loaded revolver on the side table next to the lantern. My mother was sitting in the recliner, reading the Bible by the light of the lantern. She looked up as I entered, and as she recognized me I could see her tearing up.
“Oh, mijo—I knew you’d find us.” She stood up and met me at the center of the small room, and I gave her a big hug.
I tried not to cry. “I found the note you left me, Mama. But I had to kill Mr. Keller from across the street.” I made the admission like a child who was admitting to breaking a window. All the emotion I’d been holding in over the past week came flooding back in a rush, and tears began to fall from my eyes.
She leaned back and wiped my cheeks with her thumbs. “I’m sure you did him a favor, mijo. Now he can be at peace.” She glanced over at the bed. “I only wish I could say the same for your father, though.”
I sucked it up and wiped my eyes dry. “What’s wrong with him? The guys who brought me in here said he got bit by one of those creatures.”
She nodded sagely. “They may look rough, but they’re good boys. They’ve been looking after us. Sometimes he recognizes me, other times he doesn’t. He’s very ill, Aidan.”
At that I heard what could only be described as a growl coming from the bed. There was the clink of metal on metal, and as my father stirred the covers fell away to reveal that he’d been handcuffed to the bed. These were not the strong and gentle hands that’d held me when I had nightmares, that had bandaged my cuts and bruises, that had greeted me with a handshake and a hug when I’d returned from Afghanistan. Aghast, I walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back, and what I saw then will haunt me for the rest of my days.
It was my dad, that much was for certain, but his body was in the process of transforming into something… other. His fingers were elongating slightly, and the nails were lengthening. His skin was pale and yellowed, and his hair was beginning to fall out in strands and clumps. As I leaned over him to get a better look, his eyes popped open, and I noticed immediately that they were no longer human. He growled at me briefly, and then he blinked. I was too stunned to react, so I just stood there, looking at him in awe and grief.
His eyelids fluttered, and I saw some recognition creep into his eyes. “Aidan—Aidan, is that you?”
I grabbed his hand, forcing myself not to recoil at the rough, cold, clammy feel of his skin. “Yeah, Dad, it’s me. I finally found you and Mom.”
He smiled, and I could see that his gums were bleeding. He was missing a few teeth, and there were small, sharp, white points poking out from his bloody gums where those teeth had once been. “That’s good, son, I’m proud of you.” His voice was raspy and soft, but I could hear his familiar baritone as he squeezed my hand and pulled me closer.
“Son, you know what you have to do. Your mother—she doesn’t have the courage to do it. She was never a soldier, never had to make the choices we’ve had to make.” Although his eyes were clear, his expression was frantic. “I saw that thing that did this to me, and I know w
hat I’m going to become. You have to kill me, before I end up like that. Promise me, son—promise me you’ll do it before I hurt someone.”
I wept, and tears streamed off my face to land on his as I replied. “I promise, Dad. I won’t let you down.”
He relaxed visibly at those words, and he patted my hand before he released it. “That’s good, son. You’ve made me proud, every single day of your life. You should know that. Your grandfather always said that you were the best of us. Now, let me spend some time alone with your mother, while I’m able.”
“I love you, Pops.” I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
“I know, son.”
As I turned away, my mom took my place at his side. She cried too. I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be right outside, Mom. Just come get me when you’re ready.” She nodded and sat astride the bed next to my father, and I stopped to take one last look at them as a couple before I walked out the door.
I wiped my eyes, noting that Crank and Possum looked away in order to give me the dignity that the moment deserved. After I’d composed myself, Crank walked up and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. He looked me in the eye and smiled.
“Your dad, he’s a great man. I wish I would have had a dad like that. I owe him a debt I’ll never be able to repay. Never.”
I nodded. “The greatest man I’ll ever know.”
Possum spoke up as Crank stepped back to give me some breathing room. “Hey Aidan, are you hungry? We can get you some grub—”
BANG! The shot rang out from inside the room, and we all reacted at once, rushing into the room in single file, almost as if we were stacked up to do a room entry. As we burst in, I saw the revolver dangling from my mother’s hand, and the sharp tang of burning gunpowder hit my nose. My father had a perfect small hole in the middle of his forehead, and a peaceful look on his face. His eyes were closed, and if I didn’t know better I might have thought he slept.
