“The Forgotten,” Crunch says darkly, sounding way creepier than Mikey had. “They are society’s outcasts, the ones they wouldn’t let behind the walls, and trust me when I tell you that you do not want to mess with them.”
“Well it’s a creepy as shit name, but what’s the big deal? Surely you’re all the big bad Forgotten, too? And you’re not so bad.” I frown, trying to act every bit the Bond girl, but instead feeling panicky.
“No, we could have gotten behind the walls if we had gotten there in time. The Forgotten were turned away.”
My mouth opens and closes before I can find the right words. “They turned people away? Why?”
Crunch looks away from me, her eyes hitting the floor. “Trust me when I say this—I don’t say it because I give a shit about you or your kid, I say it because I intend to live. These guys mean serious business. They are not in any way to be messed with. They are the Forgotten. Not the rebels, or the fucking others, or some other shit name that makes them sound like some sort of fucking comedy sketch, and they are not anything to laugh at. They weren’t allowed behind the walls because they were deemed as the big, bad, and fucking ugly of society. Not even their own mothers wanted them.”
That darn chill runs down my spine again, and I shiver involuntarily.
Fifteen.
As if they were one entity, each member in our little Kumbaya circle lowers his or her head, which does nothing to improve the tone of my voice in my next rant.
“The Forgotten? Society’s outcasts? That’s a little too much creepy for my liking, so we’ll be leaving right about now. Thanks for the hospitalities and all that.” I stand to leave, but Emily tugs on my leg. I look at her and she’s silently shaking her head at me. “You can’t still want to stay, Emily.” I purse my lips tighter.
She nods at me, and then looks toward the rest of the group. “They’re staying.”
“They’re stupid—clearly.”
“Hey!” Josie looks at me, her pretty face showing anger instead of the usual cheery smile.
“Hey what? There are people—sorry, The Forgotten—traipsing around the woods looking to do god knows what to you, and you’re still here? Tell me why, exactly.”
“We have nowhere else to go.” Britta’s eyes seem as large as saucepans as she says this, and I feel like a piece of shit.
Josie looks at JD, seemingly unsure. Up until now, he hasn’t really said very much, seeming to be the quiet one of the group.
JD picks up his bottle of water and takes a long drink before speaking. “Leave if you want; that’s your choice. If you think you can fare any better out there alone in the world, then there’s not much we can do to convince you to stay, and I wouldn’t waste my breath trying to sway your decision. If you want to live, however, then you’ll see sense and sit back down. These types of people are everywhere; there is no escaping them. So this place, up here, is as good as any other—probably better, in fact. That’s the why to your question.” He says all this without even bothering to look at me.
I sit back down with a huff and Emily pats my knee condescendingly. I scowl at her and she stops. The tension has risen within the group, and I’m not the only one feeling it by the looks of the sullen faces around the camp.
“Can everyone just calm down?” Duncan pleads.
“We’ll calm down, Duncan, when you let us go over to the hub and get some more stuff. We’ve all fought zombies at some point, we can work as a team. We’ll be in and out before you know it.” Mikey sits back down, and continues to try to reason with Duncan in a friendlier way. “We need you. You know the way around that place; we’ll be safer with you there.”
Duncan bites his lip. “The last time I went there I saw my co-workers and customers get ripped apart. It is not somewhere I want to go back to anytime soon.” Duncan starts to shout and then stops himself, his nostrils flaring as he tries to contain his anger. Even up here, I’m guessing we have to keep the noise down. Sound travels and so do zombies.
“Things haven’t changed since you decided to hide yourself away up here you know. That shit’s still happening everywhere, you can’t just pretend it isn’t.” Mikey lowers his voice and Duncan sits back down, the anger suddenly lost.
“Mikey’s right, Duncan, as much as I hate to admit it. I think we should go—with or without you. Though it would be helpful if you would come, nobody is forcing you.” JD speaks up again, and I’m surprised when everyone stops to listen to him without him even having to raise his voice. “It’s about time we all stopped pussy-footing around you. You saved our lives by showing us this place and letting us stay here, and for that we’re all grateful, but that only gets you so many free cards, and they’ve all run out now. We’re going over there, and I’m asking you to come with us. To help us.”
Duncan seems to be off in his own little world with his thoughts, and just as I’m about to ask if we have any weapons at all, he jumps back in.
“It still haunts me.”
“It haunts us all, my friend,” Mikey replies.
Duncan drags a hand across his face. “They came back from the canoe trip covered in blood. I’ll never forget that image for as long as I live. Out of all the other deaths that I have witnessed, that’s what has stayed with me all this time, you know?” He looks up at us and we nod in agreement.
Yeah, we all know exactly what he means. The first time I saw someone die—hell, I should say the first time I witnessed those things killing someone—will be burned into my memory forever. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real. But it was.
“It was so unexpected. There was just no warning, no clue, nothing. I mean, I’m a resourceful guy.” He gestures around him as if to prove his point. “I can prepare, plan, evaluate, but this…this was something else. They climbed, fell, Jesus…were dragged from the damn canoe, and the blood was just everywhere. I heard the screaming and came running out of the hub. They had been across the other side of the lake when they were attacked.” Duncan looks out into the trees and continues. “When I came out and saw all the blood, I thought that they had been attacked by bears or wolves or something. One woman—Halima, I think her name was—she was unconscious, and we carried her inside to the medic’s room. The others were telling me about some man in the woods who had attacked them, but before I could concentrate on what they were saying, I needed to stop the bleeding on Halima. I didn’t even know where to start.” Duncan’s eyes met mine and I swallowed the massive lump in my throat.
I don’t want to listen to this. I’ve heard more than my fair share of survivor horror stories this past year. I don’t need any more to add to the collection. But there’s always something a little bit fascinating about them. As if maybe by hearing more versions of the same story, it will somehow change the outcome. It doesn’t, though. It always ends the same: someone dies. Everyone dies.
Duncan looks heartbroken as he continues. “I started trying to clean her up the best I could while one of my Saturday helpers, Sanil, called for an ambulance, but there was no answer. All the lines were dead, and I began to panic that I couldn’t stop the bleeding before we could get an ambulance to her. Her breathing got worse and worse,” he looks up at us, his eyes damp, “until it just stopped.”
Britta stands up and goes to sit with Duncan, draping her arm across his shoulders.
“It’s okay, we all know what you have been through, and we have all been there,” she says, her accent making each word sound even more pronounced. He continues as if she hasn’t even spoken.
“Sanil started to panic, but me, I didn’t move. I just stood there watching her, watching the blood…so much blood, just draining out of her and dripping onto the floor. Of course she couldn’t have survived that much blood loss. I knew this, but then just as I was accepting that fact, she moved.” He looks up to us, his eyes searching our faces for recognition of a similar horror. Of course we all share it and look away from his stare. Shame floods his face as he continues.
“She moved her hand,
slowly at first. I thought it was a goddamn miracle happening. Her eyes opened, but they weren’t the pretty brown I was used to seeing; they were colorless, cloudy almost. I was surprised she could see anything, but she clearly could because she reached up and grabbed me. I didn’t know what she was doing, but I knew something wasn’t right. Sanil tried to help me restrain her, but he was just a kid, and she was so strong—it didn’t make sense how strong she was! And then she bit him…his face. She leaned up as he tried to hold her down and tore into it like it was nothing, and he screamed and screamed for me to help him, but man, what could I do? Blood was pumping everywhere, so much goddamned blood.” A slow tear works its way down Duncan’s cheek, and even though I have my own horror story, I can’t help but feel some of his pain. What could he do? We have all seen it happen. It happens so quickly you don’t have time to react, to think about what to do next.
“I ran! I ran out of the room just as everyone was running into it to try and help.” Duncan’s face is pale—paler than Emily’s, and that’s saying something. “Then the screaming really started.”
I don’t know whether to scream at him myself for not helping, for not trying to do more to save everyone. Why didn’t he warn them? Shut the door? Anything? But looking at him now, I know that there’s no point in voicing my opinion. He’s going to be haunted by those screams for the rest of his life, and I think that’s punishment enough.
Stillness surrounds us all. Even the birds have stopped their incessant tweeting for the moment, as if caught up in the horror of his story. I need to cough, but don’t want to ruin the moment. I have heard these stories, of varying degrees of horror, and I feel a little numb to them all now. I hear the words, but their meaning is lost on me. Another person torn apart, another person eaten, another person dead. It’s horrendous, and it’s cruel, but it happened.
Duncan sobs loudly. “That’s why I can’t go back over there. I can’t bear to see their faces—faces of the people that I condemned to death because I was too scared to do anything else.”
“Stop being such a fucking pussy, Duncan. Shit happens, and it’s happened to us all.” JD looks up at Duncan, his nostrils flaring, his eyes wild with quiet fury. “You want to know a sob story? I’ll give you a sob story.” He grinds his teeth loud enough for me to hear him on the other side of the fire pit. “Try watching your girlfriend and baby boy being eaten alive. See if that’s an image that will keep you awake night after night, buddy!”
The silence deepens around us at JD’s revelation. Josie is clearly alive and kicking, and I realize that they must have only been a couple since the outbreak. She looks uncomfortable, both her hands falling to her lap so as not to provoke JD any more. Her lower lip trembles, but whether it’s because of the colorful image that JD has just given us or because he’s talking about his life pre-her, I’m not sure.
I’m stumped and feel uncomfortable listening to everyone’s little heart-to-hearts. I have no intention of doing the same, and I can only hope that we are about done for the day. Back behind the wall, I would listen to people’s stories day in, day out. It was one of the many reasons I wanted to leave: the horror of listening to everyone’s stories is just too much. That sounds heartless, but it’s the truth. There are only so many times you can listen to people telling you about their loved ones being killed before you become cold to it.
JD stands abruptly and resolutely storms off, his footsteps loud against the wooden flooring. Clearly he’s had enough of our little get-together for the day. Josie stays seated, her head low on her chest. Her shoulders are subtly shaking as she stifles down her tears. Emily nudges me in my side and I look at her. She gestures with her head for me to go over to Josie and I shake my head and mouth ‘no’ at her. She nudges me again, harder this time, and I nearly fall off my log seat. Why she thinks I would give a shit I have no idea, and I push her back, forcing her to slide off the back of her log. I snort a laugh at her and look up, realizing that everyone has been watching our little pushing session, even Josie. My cheeks flame with embarrassment.
I don’t want them to think I’m a heartless bitch, but I’m not about to start trying to disprove their thoughts on me. They seem as doomed as the rest of the world, and if Emily wants to go comfort poor little Josie, then she’s a big girl now and she can go do it herself.
Emily sits back down on the log without looking at me, but I can hear her huffing.
“He saved me, you know,” Josie speaks between sobs. “I was hiding in the storm drains. I’d been living down there since the outbreak, or whatever you want to call it. I had been visiting my boyfriend in jail when everyone started acting nuts. I got out of there as quick as I could and I hid. Before I knew it, I had been there over two months. Every time I thought about leaving and trying to make my way back home, there seemed to be more and more of them. There were no trucks or cars that I could get to. I had no weapons. I was screwed, so I hid.” She wipes her sleeve along her nose in the most ladylike fashion she can muster, and continues. “They got in the prison. How do zombies even get into a prison? I mean, that place, of all places, is supposed to be secure.”
I shudder at the word zombie. I still have a hard time calling them that, though that is what they are.
“They followed me back one day when I was out scavenging. I was backed into a corner, and I was trying to make peace with the fact that I was about to die, and then he showed up—JD.” Josie gives a small smile before continuing. “If it wasn’t for him, I would be dead. Or one of the dead.”
“How did he find you?” I ask before I can stop myself.
What do I care? Yet I obviously do.
“I have no idea, I’m just glad that he did.” She shrugs. “One of the guards tried to lock everyone inside. I guess he thought the inmates were trying to escape or something, I don’t know, but I only just got out. When JD found me, he had escaped from the prison. He had watched his girlfriend and baby boy,” she swallows, and I know what’s coming, “…they had both been turned, and he had seen it all. Damn near drove him insane watching them day after day. He was a wreck of a man for months, kept talking about killing every last one of them. In the end I made him realize that the best revenge he could have would be to survive.”
Every time I think that I have heard the worst story possible, I hear another one. It never gets easier. I can understand how people go crazy; I mean, how much pain can one mind take? I don’t think I can take another story. I don’t have the stomach or the heart for it. I’m not a tough G.I. Joe girl, I’m just a girl who likes shoes and uses sarcasm to hide her feelings. I decide that I’m about done for the moment and make to leave when Crunch pipes up.
“You wanna hear something funny?”
“Yes!” Everyone says at the same time. Crunch smiles and we all give a small laugh. The horrendous stories we just heard are suddenly put to the back of our minds. For now, at least.
“Well, there’s blood and guts in my story, the same as everyone else’s, but when the outbreak happened, me and my best friend had just been arrested for stealing fancy panties.”
Panties? Now this is going to be an interesting story.
Sixteen.
Crunch folds her long legs underneath herself as she begins to talk. “Me and my good buddy Damien were getting high, you know how it is, right?” She looks at us, her smile faltering for a moment before continuing. “Well…maybe not. Anyway, so we’d had way too much to drink and smoke that day and decided to go and get ourselves a little extra cash, since we were both totally broke and wanted to go on partying. We went into a couple of stores but we got thrown straight out. Obviously we weren’t the usual clientele for some of the more upper class shops.”
I laugh loudly and she looks at me sharply.
She wasn’t trying to be funny there, I guess. Whoops.
“Sorry,” I mumble and look away, feeling uncomfortable under her glare.
“Anywho…we were passing a trashy version of Victoria’s Secret—you know the on
es with the real dirty underwear and sex toys?” She smirks and I look at Emily. She may be young, but by the look on her crimson face, apparently she knows what kind of store Crunch is talking about.
“So me and Damien decided to try it out. We’re looking at all these sex toys, and underwear, and joking around. Obviously there wasn’t much that we could get from there to sell quickly, so we decide to leave, but man, as we get to the door, we get stopped by security. I’m all like, ‘What? We haven’t done anything, this is harassment.’ And this big burly security guard just looks at us all serious and stern, and he’s like, ‘can you come this way please, sir? Miss?’” She mimics the security guard’s voice, and everyone laughs. “Which is funny in itself really, since Damien has never been called ‘sir’ in his life.” Crunch fiddles with the studs on her shirt as she continues. “So we end up in one of the back offices and he asks us to empty out our pockets. I had some fancy underwear stuffed down my shirt, but nothing major—lacy things with frills and shit, but then Damien’s searched, and he starts pulling out all sorts of crap from his pockets and down the back of his pants. Lube, play gels, fucking dildos as big as my arm, and I’m like, ‘dude! What the fuck?’”
Laughter breaks out from everyone’s lips. I have no idea what Damien looks like, but any guy getting caught with a dildo down his pants deserves a round of applause in my opinion.
“I didn’t even see him stealing that stuff, I swear. Even the security guard looked shocked and mildly disgusted by how much stuff he’d shoved down his pants. He must have thought we were planning some mass orgy or something.” She wipes at the tears in her eyes and continues, looking younger than I’m guessing she is—the carefree, relaxed attitude of a young woman, not a bitter, angry thirty-year-old. “Anyway, I’m rolling around in fits of laughter, no matter how many dirty looks this security guard gives us, you know? I mean, it’s freaking hilarious. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. I think this guy is about to get all serious on us and call the real cops, when we hear shouting from inside the store. Shouting and banging and all sorts of weird and wonderful noises.” Crunch raises a sardonic eyebrow at me and continues. “The security guard tells us to stay where we were and he’d be right back, like I was planning on leaving that room at that point anyway, right? He locked the door on his way out, and before I could tell him to call me a lawyer and kiss my ass, he was gone…and the screaming began.”
Odium (The Dead Saga.) Page 11
