by Brown, TW
Kevin almost marveled at how well things had turned out. Catie vaulted the fence and was sprinting for him, but she pulled up when she saw the two figures writhing in the front yard. At first, he thought that she would go over and do the humane thing; put a round in each of their heads. Instead, she was simply standing there with her head cocked to one side as she watched them suffer. It gave Kevin a chill.
“Holy crap,” a voice panted, causing Kevin to jump.
Turning, he saw Trent and Heather jogging up. Both of them were giving the two bodies that were still burning and screaming a very wide berth. As it continued, Kevin was no longer sure of his list of ways he did not want to die. He had moved being torn apart and eaten alive by zombies to the number one slot ahead of dying in a fire…but this was doing a great deal to change his mind as it seemed to go on for way too long.
At last he had endured all that he could and he walked up. Firing from almost pointblank range, he found that his .22 worked just fine for a task such as this. Sliding it into his holster, he still made a mental point to make sure that he snagged one of the better handguns when they got back. For the life of him, he could not think why he had ever thought that a .22 would be any good out on a run. It would drop a zombie from up close, but that was really about all it was good for.
He turned to Heather, “So where is Aleah?” he asked.
“She went back to the kids. We thought that you might want them to be ready to move out. When you guys did not join up with us as planned we decided to wait…until that other group showed up,” she explained.
“Yeah, I guess these two factions don’t get along,” Trent jumped in. “And from what I was hearing, it has something to do with how these folks are immune.”
“What?” Kevin scratched his head in confusion.
“I’m just saying what I gathered from the bits of conversation that I overheard…it was very confusing and didn’t make much sense to me,” Trent said with a shrug.
“Well we can worry about that later…or never,” Kevin finally sighed. “Let’s get back and make preparations for getting on the road.”
“You sure you are up to it?” Heather asked. “I don’t want to be rude, but you look like crap.”
“And I probably feel at least as bad as I look, but it is obvious that this location is no longer a good place to hold up.”
“That’s a shame…I don’t know if we will ever find a location so rich with supplies,” Catie said with a shake of her head.
Kevin agreed with the sentiment, but he also knew when to cut and run. This was definitely one of those times. The foursome made their way as quickly as possible back up the street. They could see the trees of the park ahead as the sun began to rise and paint their tops in gold.
The sounds of the conflict between the two groups could still be heard and sometimes seemed closer than any of them would like. The trip of just over a block took them almost five agonizing minutes as they kept having to duck in between houses and wait out things whenever they felt that people from either group might be close.
“These people suck at combat,” Catie whispered the third time they took cover. “With all this noise, it is a wonder every single zombie for a hundred miles is not here looking for the free buffet.”
Finally, they reached the last house on the street just across from the expansive park. Checking both directions, they made a break for it when they were as certain as they could be that the coast was clear. Kevin took up the rear and glanced to the right just before ducking into the wooded part of the park. The fire was spreading and it was coming this direction. It had already jumped the four lane road that was E 112th St. At least a half dozen homes were on fire already.
By the time they reached the others, Kevin was happy to see a flurry of activity. All of the bicycles and their trailers were lined up and being loaded. The younger children were all busy carrying things outside and setting them down while the older children were doing the actual loading.
Aleah was up on the roof acting as lookout and supervisor at the same time. She saw them as they emerged from the trees and gestured them emphatically to hurry over.
Kevin saw a look on her face that had him a bit nervous. As they got closer, he saw that the children kept glancing over their shoulders to the entrance of the building as they hurried about their business.
They were still over a stone’s throw away when she could not stand it any longer and called out,” We got company…and Kevin you need to talk to them!”
Almost in unison, everybody seemed to freeze in place and look at him. Kevin squirmed just a little under the scrutiny, but recovered his bizarre sudden lack of nerve and veered directly for the open door.
He had no idea what to expect. The first surprise came when he encountered four of the older children all holding .22 caliber pistols by the look if he had to guess. The weapons were all trained on three individuals who sat up against one wall. They were handcuffed together like a little chain gang at the wrist and the ankles. These manacles had been on for a good long time and about an inch around the metal was chaffed, red, and scabbed…although obviously infected as well since there looked to be considerable leakage. The smell coming off of them was horrendous and enough to make his mouth fill with a pre-rush of saliva that warned vomiting may begin soon.
He took a moment to really take their appearance in. Each one of them looked emaciated to the point where he was surprised they could move on their own, much less necessitate the need to be shackled. One of them was so bad off that he could not even hazard a guess at the gender.
They all wore clothing that he realized with a sudden unpleasantness had not been cleaned in perhaps weeks. To make it just a little bit worse, they had obviously not been afforded any sort of bathroom facilities by whoever had been their captors…and judging by the look of them, they had been captive for quite a while. Yet there was one more thing that stood out…the scars. Each of these individuals had, at some time, been bitten by a zombie. They were all three immune!
Rose peered out from behind Deanna. Kevin was only a little surprised to see that she was holding one of the pistols trained on their “guests”. She switched the weapon to her left hand and gave him a wave and a tight lipped smile; then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, she returned her focus to the strangers and made a slight adjustment to her aim.
“Somebody want to tell me what this is all about?” Kevin asked.
He heard a sound from behind and turned as Aleah entered. She flashed a look at the trio of captives, but he saw more pity than disdain. Yep, he thought, something is definitely up. He began to wonder if they would ever make it to South Dakota or if every turn in the road would throw some new and crazy dilemma in his path.
“These folks came about twenty minutes after you and the others left,” Deanna spoke up. “They didn’t try nothing. In fact, when we told them to stop, they did so right away and got down on their knees without even us even asking.”
“They were prisoners—” Aleah started, but she stopped suddenly and shook her head before giving a nod to the three individuals that looked to Kevin almost like an apology. “Sorry…hostages...of a gang that calls themselves The Guardians.”
Kevin listened as Aleah and Deanna combined to give as much of their story as they could. Every so often one or the other would pause and glance at the pathetic individuals to get a nod of confirmation to ensure they were telling it correctly or accurately. As it went on, Kevin found his interest turn to amazement…and then to a twisting feeling in his gut.
Before it was over, he had somehow ended up sitting on the ground. While he had the utmost sympathy for these people, his mind had gone elsewhere.
“So you are saying that you know for certain that this…this whatever it is…that it can be spread through any sort of bodily fluid exchange from people who are immune. That, for lack of a better term, you are all carriers?” Kevin asked.
He did not need to see their nods. He already had
heard enough to know that if what he suspected was true, and if the cat had in fact infected him…he was just like these people…a carrier.
6
Kidnappers
One thing I hate, and that is running. I didn’t like it in football (which is why I was an offensive lineman where my job was to basically stand there and keep people from getting past me). I sure as hell don’t like it when it involves going through thick brush and having to jump over creepers that reach out and try to grab your ankle, or zombies that appear from behind trees like you just arrived at a woodland surprise party.
“Billy!” I heard Dr. Zahn yelling after me.
Don’t ask me why, but for some reason, even now where the choices you make are much more likely to lead to your death, I can’t just do nothing when I hear a scream…especially when it is female.
When I finally exploded from the scrub and was in the clear, I saw what had once been a cow pasture. The dead cows were the big giveaway. Just to my right was a ramshackle house that looked like a place even meth heads would not want to stay.
Another scream cut the air and sure enough, it was coming from that house. As I ran, I wondered why it was that screams could never come from someplace nice…why did they always come from the scary, rundown, almost falling apart houses?
A single zombie lunged from behind a rotting roll of hay that had not made it to the pasture. My problem at that particular moment was that I had one leg over a barbed wire fence. It took all my control not to hurry, but I knew that if I did, I would either snag a very precious part of myself or, at the least, snag my pants and fall on my face.
I was just over and on steady footing when the zombie got to within striking range. My machete split the skull, and I was moving to the open front door when there was a crash. The second-story window just to my left exploded outwards, and a body landed gracelessly on the ground not more than three or four feet away. As it was, I had to throw my hands up and spin away a bit to avoid the glass that rained down.
The lump that had hit the ground started to move and its head moved so that its face was to me. The zombie opened its mouth and let loose with that damn baby cry, causing me to take an involuntary step back; that sound is still one of the creepiest I have ever heard.
It was no big deal, judging by the way the zombie’s body bent at a strange angle, I was certain that it had broken its back. And while the zombies have been able to overcome the whole being dead thing, their bodies still have certain limitations. That beast wasn’t going anywhere, but I still took the time to stab it in the head and put it down for good.
“Please,” a voice called from above, “help!”
I glanced up to see a girl about my age looking down. She was either Native American or Hispanic. I based that solely on the slight tan hue of her skin and her black hair. I might have been able to discern which if she had stayed in the window longer, but she was gone in the blink of an eye and I heard a terrific crash. A few seconds later, another zombie came hurtling out the window, knocking loose a few of the remaining shards of glass that the first zombie had left behind.
I ran inside and saw why she was so frantic. The stairs going up were clogged with a dozen or so zombies. I dashed across the living room and yanked the one in the rear back by the hair…which came away in my hand leaving a nasty oozing patch of scalp where I saw what had to be skull. I really hope that girl did not hear me scream.
I fought my way up. Honestly, it was not that hard to do. The zombies got so confused in the stairwell that they started falling over each other. Once a zombie falls, it is pretty easy to kill; they just are not too terribly coordinated.
I reached the top of the stairs and found a hallway littered with downed zombies. Standing in a doorway just to my right was the girl. And now I was pretty sure that she was Native American. Not that I am some sort of expert, but she was wearing a shirt that read: IRON TRIBE.
“Hey there,” I said with a nod.
“Did you know that some old lady was chasing you?” the girl said in response.
Crap! I had forgotten about Dr. Zahn. I turned, ready to sprint back to her. I can’t believe that I had left her alone. I needn’t have worried. The doc was at the bottom of the stairs, wiping off her blade with a piece of cloth.
“Old lady?” she snapped.
“Oh,” the girl said as she stepped up beside me, “you made it. Damn, you must be a badass. There were five zees closing in on all sides of you just a few seconds ago.”
“Yes, well you can’t judge a book by its cover,” Dr. Zahn snapped. “Now, as for you, I see a lot of…splatter. Did any get in your eyes or mouth…did any of them manage to land a bite or scratch?”
“Nope.”
Now that I could take a minute, I gave this gal a better look. She had long black hair pulled back and braided. The braid was coiled and pinned in to place with needles big enough to be used as weapons themselves. She was wearing what looked like deerskin leggings over jeans and a leather jacket with patches sewn on all over it. The patches reminded me immediately of my mom. They were from a bunch of those Eighties hair bands. She had on a set of boots that I was betting by the gore stains had steel toes and her gloves had inch long spikes set across the knuckles.
“So, if you don’t mind my asking…you don’t seem like the kind to scream,” I spoke up, although, for some reason I was crazy nervous. “What was all that about?” I looked around just to be sure, and did not see signs of anybody else that might be with her.
“It leads them…zees follow sound,” she said simply.
“Okay, but you also stuck your head out and called for help.”
“I saw you coming.”
That was all she said, and it didn’t really answer my question. Still, I decided not to push it. I didn’t need her to tell me that she was capable of fending for herself. Her gear was telling that story just fine with its worn appearance.
“Since the boy here seems to be a bit on the rude side, let me make the introductions, my name is Dr. Zahn, and the blushing gentleman is Billy Haynes.” Dr. Zahn stepped forward and extended a hand to the stranger who took it and gave it a shake.
“My name is Darla Brooks.”
I don’t know what I was expecting, and I felt like a bit of a dick. I mean, she was obviously Native American. Yeah, that very statement puts me in “dick” status all by itself; add in the fact that I expected her name to be something like Little Owl or Running Deer…
“Pleased to meet you, Darla,” Dr. Zahn said, and then elbowed me in the ribs.
“Huh? Oh…yeah. Sorry.” I could not get a word out of my mouth that did not sound like I was an absolute idiot.
“Is he always this smooth with the ladies?” Darla asked with a laugh.
“Actually, I don’t think I have seen him with the ladies much. He always ran off with the men…so I was actually starting to wonder.” They both shared a good laugh at that.
If I wasn’t blushing before, Dr. Zahn had me so red that my lips burned. The problem was that I really had no reason to feel this way. Sure, she was a pretty girl, but I had just hooked up with Katrina and I really liked her. So…why was I suddenly acting like I was a love-struck fool?
“So, you folks part of all that insanity going on in La Grande?” the girl asked.
And just like that, Dr. Zahn shut down. She was now looking at the girl like she had sprouted a second head. To her credit, that hard look only lasted a second or two, but I noticed it.
“Are you from around here?” Dr. Zahn asked, effectively changing the subject and not providing anything resembling an answer.
“I used to live in La Grande with my auntie out by Bernie Park near the university, but I spent most of the past year in the trailer park out on Fruitdale.”
“By yourself?” I blurted. I knew how it sounded coming out of my mouth, but I was helpless to stop it.
“Actually…” her voice trailed off. I saw her swallow really hard like a person does when they are trying not
to cry. “I was with my cousin Sheena and her husband Mike until a couple of months ago. They went out looking for supplies one day and never came back.”
“Well you are welcome to return with us if you like,” Dr. Zahn said with one of her rare smiles. It wasn’t that she didn’t ever smile, it’s just that it seldom made it past her mouth. “However, we still have some business to attend.”
Now it was me looking at the doc like she was crazy. We had just met this girl and really knew nothing about her. Now the doc was going to trust her with what she had made seem like such a secret? I didn’t get it.
“What kind of business?” Darla asked.
“Have you seen any zombies in the area that are between the ages of ten and under?”
I am so glad she was asking that question. It would have seemed pretty creepy coming from me.
“Funny you should mention it. There is this little cluster of rugrats that I see in the area from time to time. So weird…” her voice trailed off again.
“Weird? How so?” Dr. Zahn prodded. I could tell she was really interested.
“They have never come at me. At first I was not entirely sure that they were zombies. But once I got close enough, I could see the injuries and I knew. But they sure don’t act normal.” Darla laughed and it was a really pretty sound. “Normal…here I am talking about zombie behavior in a group of children and I am deciding what is normal.”
“Yes, well…” Now it was Dr. Zahn’s turn to fade off in mid-sentence.
“We are trying to capture one,” I said. Heck, if the doctor had already spilled most of the beans, I might as well dump the rest of them out onto the table.
