America Undead: Out of the Darkness & Into the Dark

by David Smith

  By the time we got the canoe into the shallows, we were close enough to slightly see the soft glow of a bond fire behind the trees. We weren't even close enough yet to see shadows moving around it or hear anyone but we had to be close. The marijuana smell was faint, coming and going in the soft breeze, but unmistakeable.

  I stepped, very slowly into the water, careful not to splash and it filled my boots up to just above the ankle. The ground rose slightly as I moved into the woods then squatted down behind a cypress tree. Mac moved up next to me. I didn't know how he could stand the muddy water in his busted toes.

  "We need to move in closer," he whispered, very low and close to my ear. "a few feet at a time. We'll stop to listen for a few minutes at each point. Follow my lead and don't get ahead of me."

  He moved forward, crouched low and I followed. We stopped behind the next tree and waited, listening for any movement. I squinted my eyes to try to pick up any movement in the glow and cupped my hand behind my ear. We repeated this three or four times, moving ten to fifteen feet each time. Finally, just as the ground rose up and I felt packed earth beneath my feet, I saw the glow of a cigarette only twenty feet away and my heart raced. We were standing at the edge of a trail. I looked at Mac and he nodded then pointed back toward the canoes and we went.

  We gathered everybody up as we made our way the hundred yards or more to where the last canoe had stopped. We knew we were far enough back that they couldn't hear us but talked quietly just in case.

  "Tell me how you want this done and I'll tell you how we do it." Mac said.

  "How would you do it?" I asked.

  He looked over his shoulder with his one good eye and sighed. "I'd kill them all. It might not seem right but it's what's best."

  "I'm still not okay with that." I said. "If they fight to the last man, that's one thing. But what if they don't?"

  "Then we kill them anyway."

  "Hold on, man!" Terrence's voice came whispering harshly out if the darkness. "I don't even know who you are and you just taking over? Now you saying we aught to go in there and massacre a whole group when they ain't even sober enough to be a threat, not to mention the fact that they risked their lives and lost a lot of them to save you and you're girlfriend."

  "They didn't do it for him!" Dane came in. "The guy that owned this place, Choppa shot him in the face, unarmed. He killed his own wife while the men in his gang stood there and watched. You think they follow him because they're afraid of him or something? They do it because they respect him for it. The only reason they let anyone live is because they need other people to do the work for them. If they're not a threat right now, they will be tomorrow and every day after."

  "This is not the time or place for discussion." Mac interrupted. "That was back at the boat launch and it's the same pansy ass thinking that got us into this situation twenty years ago. You try to live with them, they'll kill you in your sleep, rape your wife and daughter before killing them too. You take this place from them and send them away, you'll be at war with them till they wipe you out because they won't go toe to toe so you can kill them. They're cowards. You catch them in the act and they'll apologize and play the victim, play on your sympathy till they get the chance to do it again. You want to build our own little Guantanamo Bay and put them in there till they say they're sorry then let them out so they can kill again? No. You want to stay here and live in peace, it has to end tonight. They have to end tonight."

  It still didn't feel right, killing people who may or may not someday be a threat. Maybe they were all murderers, thieves and rapists, but maybe they weren't. The only way to know for sure would be to let them murder and rape someone. There were at least ten of them left and I couldn't see giving them the chance to kill ten or more innocent people before getting rid of them. I had gotten to know enough about their leader that I knew he was everything Mac and Dane were saying and worse. So, I guess part of me knew that's what it would come to eventually anyway.

  "Okay," Mac continued. "I don't know how big this compound is but we know it's all to the west side of the river. So," he said and started drawing with his finger on a log. "we spread out as wide as we can in a straight line. Do not wrap around on the ends if we get there and it's smaller than we expected, just close it in. We don't want to be hitting each other in the crossfire. This many people, we should be able to cover a hundred yards or more."

  He gathered up a handful of sticks and laid them out, on the log, in a pattern that looked like a caveman drawing of a push broom.

  "These are you sectors of fire. Each person on the line covers a forty-five degree angle. If you're on the left, cover the left. If you're on the right, cover the right. Dane, you know more than any of us. What's the terrain like, any trees, structures?"

  "There's at least one building. That's all I know of, and a lake with a pier." Dane answered.

  "And you said there are friendlies?" He said and Dane just looked at him. "Civilians? Hostages?"

  "Oh. Yeah. Kara's in there somewhere. The people who lived there before might still be there too."

  "Okay. We'll say Kara is the priority. The rest are probably still alive. These guys'll barely raise a hand to wipe their own asses. They haven't been fishing this river themselves for twenty years. So, rules of engagement are, if you don't see a weapon in their hand, don't shoot. We'll sweep across in a straight line. I'll be in the center, setting the pace. Don't get ahead and don't fall behind." He looked up at the stars through the trees. "It's early yet. We'll wait till just before sunrise when they're all knocked out. Does everyone understand?" He asked, slowly.

  "This isn't our first rodeo, cowboy." Vladimir said in a fading Russian accent.

  We took it in turns to sleep in the two nearest canoes while the rest kept watch, standing in nearly knee deep water. The only words spoken were unintelligible whispers from the small group congregated around Lucia and a few from Dane, mumbling in his sleep. I didn't see how anyone could sleep though, with all the mosquitoes. We seemed to be sitting in a cloud of them and not a moment passed that there weren't at least five biting me at the same time.

  As soon as there was the slightest shade of midnight blue behind the treetops across the river, we started moving to the west and slightly south, spreading out through the woods and forming a line as we went. The smoking man in the woods had retired for the night and we made it all the way to the compound without resistance. The woods ended abruptly at the edge of an open area, high and dry with tall grass just like in the front yard of all the abandoned suburban homes. We were looking at the side of the house and a bonfire still burning between us and it. There were several men camped out in sleeping bags or directly on the ground around it and two sitting on a log, facing the fire with their backs to us, passing a bottle back and forth, one of them swaying side to side, barely able to sit up. I wondered how they had been able to survive this long, being so sloppy.

  "New plan." Mac said, suddenly right in my ear. "Spread the word down the line and when you get back here, we'll sneak out there and knife them."

  I went down the line in the edge of the woods and told everyone then hurried back, pulling my hatchet out of the holster. We walked out slowly, my heart racing so loud in my ears that I worried they might hear it. It seemed to take forever to close the distance, walking out in the open, exposed. Standing so close behind them that I could smell the whiskey in their sweat, Mac looked at me and nodded, holding his knife in the right hand, the crooked fingers of his left hand extended. As he put his hand tightly around the drunk man's mouth, pulled him back and stuck the knife into the side of his throat, I did the same to the other one and swung the hatchet down into his windpipe then held his mouth tightly as he flailed his arms till his last breath blew bloody bubbles that ran down his neck.

  Just as we laid them in the grass and were about to continue with the rest who were sleeping, we heard the screen door slam on the front of the house. We were about forty feet from the porch and could hear the wooden sound
of boots on the decking. I looked at Mac and he dropped to his stomach on the grass. I did the same and we waited. I could see around the end of the log the dead man had been sitting on.

  The one on the porch walked all the way out to the bonfire, only feet away, unzipped his pants and groggily fished around inside. I closed my eyes as much as I could without loosing sight of him and he looked stoned, pissing on the other side of the fire. The smell of burnt urine entered my nostrils and burned my throat. Finally, he turned and went back into the house, swaying side to side the entire way, stopping in his tracks a few times to regain his balance.

  We went on after that, killing each of the sleeping men and a few women, putting our hands tightly over their mouths before stabbing and hacking them in their throats. There were ten in all, the number that had been with us at Magnolia Ridge. After the deed was done, Mac motioned to the rest of our group to come out of the woods and rally at our position. They came out and gathered around us in a half-circle, crouched low. There was enough light to see outside of the ring of the bonfire now and the perimeter of the clearing was taking form.

  "You five go around back. Keep to the woods and just wait for them to come out." Mac said. "You six, spread across the front by the lake. Dave, Dane and Terrence, come with me onto the porch and we'll look inside. And Terrence, be ready with that 240."

  We walked quietly but quickly onto the porch and to the right of the front door as everyone moved into position. I was on one side and Dane was on the other with Mac and Terrence standing behind us. It was just bright enough inside to make out twelve shapes lying asleep on a couple of old couches and several hammocks, hung between the large posts that held up the roof. I couldn't tell if any of them were Kara but I was positive none of them were Choppa. Mac tapped me on the shoulder and pointed the other way then we headed back down the steps to the six on our side.

  "What did you see?" Mac asked.

  "Twelve guys, but hard to tell if they're all bikers or some are hostages."

  "Alright. Dane, you go and get the other group. We'll go in from this side, you tell them to stay where they are and watch for any coming out the back. Wait till their clear of the building but don't let them get into the woods."

  Dane nodded and took off, keeping his head low, making a wide circle around the side and away from the building. I could tell by the way he was running that he could hardly hold himself up, holding his arm across his ribs. We followed Mac back up onto the porch and lined up beside the door. It was almost daylight.

  Suddenly there was shooting from inside and Mac shoved us back and dove off the porch. I fell back into someone then hit the deck and crawled off of it myself, dropping into the tall grass five feet below. The shooting continued for what seemed like forever but was probably five or six seconds. When it stopped, I looked around and checked myself for holes. Everyone was fine, still lying in the grass under the porch. I rolled over and got my weapon ready, aiming up through the floor boards, waiting for the occupants inside to come out to finish us off. No one came.

  After seconds, I heard shouting inside and a body hitting the floor. We all rushed in to find Dane on top of Michael, coming down hard with a series of rights across his face. He was already bloody as were Dane's knuckles. Just as we came in, so did the other team and started peeling him off.

  "If you killed her," Dane shouted. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

  The room was full of bodies, everyone one of them shot more than they needed to be. The floor was full of bright red blood in big streaming pools and the walls were splatter painted from eye level, down.

  "Check them, now!" Mac ordered.

  They released Dane and he began feverishly turning over bodies. Everyone else just stood in horror. He turned over one and it wasn't her. He turned over another and the face was mostly gone but it was a male, judging from the Adam's apple. He turned over another and it was a woman but had blonde hair, streaked with blood. He turned over every one of them, all of them dead and bloody but none of them her. He was barely able to breath by the time he was done and the sun was piercing through the wooden slats of the side windows.

  "She's not here." He said. He stood quickly and winced, walked out onto the back porch and looked out across the yard. He took off running, barely able to stand and I followed him, Mac hobbling behind me.

  There was a small shack at the edge of the woods covered in tin with a plywood door. Dane barely beat us there and pulled the door open. Inside were the original group that lived here. The looked almost as thin as the dead, like skeletons with a few layers of leather stretched over them but all six still alive. Dane's mind was on one thing only.

  "Where's Choppa?" He asked one of them.

  Their tongues had been cut out but one of them quickly walked out the door and showed us an almost hidden trail, just to the side of the shack. Dane took off running down the trail as quickly as he could, still holding his ribs.

  "Wait! Dane!" I said and took off after him. I didn't want to keep screaming and alert anyone who could be waiting so I just ran after him. He was hurt but he was smaller and could fit through the trees faster than myself.

  He ran under limbs, over logs, through shallow waters and back up onto dry ground again, always just out of my reach. I could hear him fighting for air. Suddenly we came out by another, much smaller river and I was surprised to see four houseboats tied to the trees.

  Each one was two stories, or what was left of two stories. The windows were glazed over, the roofs caving in, the paint peeling and boards curled up on the porches, all but one and it wasn't in much better shape. Dane made a break for it before I could grab him. He was splashing in the water at the edge of the river so loudly that I was waiting for bullets to start raining down on us.

  "Dammit Dane!" I whispered loudly.

  He finally stopped just before the pier leading out to it. He crouched down and craned his neck, trying to see in the windows. I could hear the rest of the group making their way to us through the woods. Dane started for the door and I grabbed his arm.

  "Wait for the rest of the group!" I pleaded.

  "Hell no." He said and had to take another breath. "I see how they" another breath. "handle things." He took another deep, slow breath. "She's in there. I've got to get to her before they get here." He looked pale, even his lips had lost their color.

  I didn't know what had happened back at the house. We had been in situations like that plenty of times and Michael had never done anything like that. I didn't know if it was because of the way Mac had fired them up, if they were scared or just spent too long on the road but something was different now and I felt like it would be from now on. So, I let him go.

  "Don't let them follow till I find her." He said as he gripped his M-4 tightly, his bloody knuckles shinning. He ran up the short pier and stopped at the door which had a window in the middle, and looked in. He turned the knob slowly, eased the door open and slipped in just as the half of the group emerged from the woods a little downstream. I waved to them and the proceeded up to me, crouched down low and quiet.

  I couldn't let Dane do this himself. I knew Choppa, Spider and Kara had to be inside but who else would be? I told the rest to wait there and I followed him inside.

  The first floor had a couch covered with so much dust that I couldn't tell what color it used to be. There was a sink to the right under a window overlooking the water. There were four doors on the back wall, one open and leading out to a porch, the other, closed, and two more along a balcony at the top of the stairs and directly over the bottom two. Dane was standing next to the closed door on the bottom floor, about to enter and I walked up behind him quietly.

  He eased the door open and there, on a mattress on the floor, with most of the springs sticking out of it, was Spider. He was asleep and there was a pistol sticking out of the front of his pants. Dane walked very slowly up to him, finger on the trigger in case he went for his gun. I did the same. Stepping, with one foot on the mattress, he bounced it a
few times.

  I didn't think this was the best idea. He could've screamed or fought and woken up the whole house, if there was anyone else in it. Instead, he slowly opened his eyes, put one hand in front of his face to guard it from the sunlight and smacked his lips dryly. I reached down to grab his pistol and he didn't resist.

  "Where's Kara?" Dane commanded.

  He was obviously too hung over to care that there was a guy holding a gun in his face, asking for his girlfriend. "She upstairs, man." He said calmly. "Choppa's got her up there."

  Dane thought for a moment. I don't know what ran through his mind at that moment but he asked, "Why?"

  "He don't let us sleep together, man. He's weird like that. All protective and shit."

  Dane backed away. "Watch him." He whispered as he left the room. I heard a few boards creaking as he went up the stairs, then heard a few more creaking directly above me in the center of the room.

  "Stay there!" I whispered to Spider, pointing my finger at him like I was giving a command to a dog, then ran out of the room to see Dane entering the one above with his finger over his lips, hushing someone quietly. Before I could reach the stairs, he was in the room and I heard Choppa.

  "Drop it boy. You turn around and I'll blow your brains out."

  I walked as quietly as I could up the stairs and as I reached the top, I heard Dane's weapon hit the floor.

  "Turn around." Choppa said. "Spider!" He called out. "Come take out the trash!"

  I looked down and Spider was coming up the stairs behind me. I was ready to shoot him but he just raised his hands in front of him and shook his head.

  Suddenly, I heard a smack and the heavy thud of another gun bouncing off the wall and hitting the floor. I ran in and Dane was on top of him like a fly on top of a pile of shit. Choppa had his hands up in defense but to no avail. Dane was beating him like a redneck beating a dog.

  Finally, Dane stopped and stepped back off of him, holding onto his sides. The fat man's face was busted and bleeding and he was sobbing like an abused child. Dane's hands were swollen and fresh blood dripped off his fingers. His lips had a bluish tint and his face was pale as he stumbled back, squeezing his chest. Choppa was sitting up and cursing him as he fell to the floor, next to the big .50 caliber pistol.