by W J Hegarty
“Out of respect, I guess. Why does it matter anyway?” Her brow furrowed and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention as she wiped down an already cleaned part of the bar, away from even the slightest eye contact with Jim’s gaze.
He breathed heavy, mouth agape, eyes penetrating the girl from across the bar. With each sigh of his massive frame, spittle exhaled upon his beard and the bar top. “I gotta say, my point is it’s been a mighty long time since your man up and left ya. I know you must get lonely up in that house off of Sweetfern Lane all by yourself. Why don’t you let old Jimmy come by later and keep ya warm?” Jim chuckled as he threw back another shot of whiskey.
“I’ve told you before, Jim, Clint didn’t leave me. Why don’t I get you a sandwich or something, huh? Maybe some coffee?” Vanessa offered, desperate to change the conversation.
“I don’t need no goddamn sandwich!” Jim snatched her up by the wrist, pulling her in close to his sweaty bulk. “Lemme look at ya, girl. Ooh wee, ya ever notice how the sweat collects ’tween your tits there? Mm-hmm, why don’t you let old Jimmy take care of that for ya?” he slurred. Jim moved in close toward Vanessa’s chest and inhaled a long deep breath before slowly pulling his head back to a raised position, his eyes closed in apparent euphoria. “Now there, girl, if you give old Jimmy just—” Jim was cut off mid-thought. The room spun for an instant before he found himself on the bar’s cold hardwood floor.
Towering over the humiliated man, Markus leaned against the bar to better make eye contact while he righted Jim’s barstool. “You’re going to have to be more careful, Jim. These floors can get pretty slick.”
Jim wobbled to his feet, yelling and smashing his fists against the bar on his way up. “You motherfucker. Ya kicked my stool out from under me.”
“You must have slipped, Jim. It happens more often than you would think. We really need to look into a new floor wax before someone gets hurt. Here, let me help you outside. The fresh air will be good for you,” Markus offered.
“Get your goddamn hands off of me!” Jim yanked his arm free. “You and all those other refugees don’t even belong here!” Jim pounded his fist down on the bar again and pointed to Vanessa. “You set me up, you little bitch. You told that big bastard to do that, didn’t you?”
“Jim, I did nothing of the sort, and you know it,” Vanessa tried to assure the man.
“No wonder your man left ya. He was right. Good for nothing dirty little whore.” Jim spat in Vanessa’s face and grabbed her by the front of her tank top, yanking the girl nearly over the bar in the process.
Instinct took control as Vanessa sent a barrage of fists into Jim’s face before he could react, bloodying his nose and lip.
Jim pulled his other arm back. In mid-swing, he was pulled away from Vanessa and sent careening down the front of the bar, beer mugs and stools tumbling along with him.
Sam had Jim by the collar. He was sliding the heavy man down the slick edge of the bar top. Safely away from Vanessa, Sam yanked Jim away from the bar. He punched him twice in the face before throwing him back to the floor. “You lay another hand on that girl and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do!” Sam leaned in and hit him again, this time opening a wide gash above Jim’s left eye. “Get this piece of shit out of here, Markus!” Sam forced Jim up and into Markus’s waiting arms.
“We ain’t through, girl. That’s for damn sure,” Jim stammered. He scurried to his feet, correcting himself before Markus could grab him and turned toward Sam, face to face with his assailant. “I ain’t gonna forget this, Sam. You best believe we gonna settle up.” Jim stormed out of the bar, kicking stools and chairs along his way.
“I’ll be waiting, you fat tub of shit.” Sam turned his attention to Vanessa. “You alright, darling?” He held out his hand, attempting to wipe the spit from her cheek.
“I hate this fucking place, Sam. What am I doing here, goddammit?” Vanessa ran into the back room, no longer able to hold back tears.
Sam placed a confident hand on Markus’s shoulder. “Get after her, son.”
“She’ll be alright, Sam. Vanessa’s a tough chick. Excuse me, fellas.” Markus shook Sam’s hand and nodded at Tobias before disappearing into the back room after Vanessa.
Tobias apologized to the remaining customers who hadn’t fled during the altercation.
Sam gestured for Tobias to look out of the front window at Jim pushing his way through innocent bystanders in his mad dash away from the bar. “You paying attention, Tobias? This ain’t an isolated incident. The whole town’s got cabin fever. Hell, just yesterday I broke up a fight in front of Tabitha’s antique shop of all places.”
“The fact that the antique shop is open at all proves my point, Sam. These people are fooling themselves if they think they’re not in danger here.” Tobias looked at his half-full beer and put it down on the bar.
“There’s more to it than that, Tobias. The second Mayor Lancaster realizes the old rules truly don’t apply anymore, he’ll let Jim and the boys off their leash. Troublemakers will be the first to go, and you damn well better believe you’ll fall straight into that category once word of your plan gets around.”
“Believe me, I’ve thought about that. Jim and the rest of Lancaster’s thugs already act like they own the place. Things are escalating, and one way or another, whether it’s a bunch of infected or Lancaster and his men officially declaring a dictatorship, we’re going to have a fight on our hands. I’d rather my family avoid both. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just another in a laundry list of reasons to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.” Tobias took note of the elderly couple leaving the bar. Their warm meal sat untouched at the table behind them. What a waste, he thought. But not only about the food, which was an issue all its own. This town should be coming together to weather the storm, not fracture. These random acts of violence kept the town on edge. Pretty soon no one would leave their homes for fear of what might happen. Now more than ever, he knew he was right.
Markus slowly approached Vanessa. He had grown to know her well enough to realize if she was upset enough for tears. Jim must have really gotten to her. “Hey, why don’t you knock off early? I’ll take it from here,” he offered.
“No thanks, Markus. What am I going to do, go home and watch the world turn to shit on TV? I may as well stay here, right? I will take a drink, though. Hand me that bottle, would you?” Vanessa pointed out a bottle of Absinthe imported from Switzerland years ago she was saving for the right occasion. The European variety had a higher wormwood content, allowing for a better effect. Last bottle of the stuff in the bar, as it turned out. “Now is a good a time as any.”
“Don’t be afraid of that asshole. We all know he’s just a bitter piece of shit.” Markus set up two glasses, gently poured a little ice water over the alcohol, and waited until the disappearance of the dark line at the top of the combined liquids revealed the perfect mixture. The bar was out of sugar cubes, so they would have to do without.
“I’m not afraid of Jim, Markus. I’m crying because I’m frustrated. For whatever reason, he’s just got it out for me. I don’t know what his problem is. He never liked Clint, for one, and he used to just be rude to me. Now I just don’t know what’s going through his head. It seems like since things changed, it’s like he’s lost his mind, almost as if he thinks the rules don’t apply anymore.”
“Maybe they don’t.” Markus handed her a glass.
Vanessa sat back in her chair while she slowly sipped her drink. “Yeah maybe, but he better find someone else to push around because I’m not going to put up with it for much longer.”
CHAPTER SIX
Neglect
Isabelle was fast approaching forty. Thirty-eight to be exact. A few delicate lines on her face conveyed a sobering reminder that at twenty-two, her daughter Lillian was the same age Isabelle was a lifetime ago when Tobias proposed. Since they married so young, the temptation to stray remained steadfast in Isabelle’s fantasies. To never know the tou
ch of another man or experience the carefree lifestyle of a young woman in her prime gnawed at her as of late. Current circumstances only hastened the feeling that maybe she should stray or leave altogether. On the one hand, she viewed Tobias and her children as all that was good in the world. The thought of imposing such pain upon her family became unbearable at times.
Trapped at home since the crisis began, boredom encouraged her mind to wander. She would often leave the doors unlocked. The thought of a dozen filthy intruders, not too dissimilar to the ones she saw on TV, cornering her in the bedroom filled her with anticipation. Nowhere to run, she would be at the mercy of her attackers. Animalistic impulses controlled her as one by one a steady stream of shadowy figures had their way with her, the ravenous horde holding back no longer as they swallowed her up in their lust.
Isabelle possessed a myriad of fantasies to busy herself with, not all of them pleasant. The ones where she hurt people, or worse, scared her the most. Her thoughts inevitably drifted back to her children’s faces and a smiling Tobias so eager to please and keep his family safe. A sense of guilt sometimes washed over her, chilling her to the bone. The moment ruined, she slipped her hand out from between her legs and pulled the covers up around her neck. Was it guilt she felt, or something else entirely?
Tobias entered the room after another long night on patrol. She could sense it exhausted him. Once again, she would be up all night alone, lying there with only her mind for company.
“Hey, Izzy. Let me take a quick shower. I’ll be right out.” Tobias was near asleep on his feet, with hardly a glance toward his wife.
Typical, she thought. Why should tonight be any different? Isabelle turned away from the view of him showering to gaze out the window, faceless attackers once again at the forefront of her thoughts. There was a time when she would lie there and watch Tobias shower. No longer. Isabelle continued her exploration, returning to parts of her body it seemed Tobias had lost all interest in. The people in her mind were becoming real for her. In some respects, they knew her better than her husband ever did. She would drift off mid-storyline, wake a few minutes later, and reflect. How long has it been? Minutes or hours? She could lose herself if only—Tobias coughed. It echoed from the steamy bathroom. She was irritated with her husband for interrupting, especially if all he was going to do was bitch and pass out. Just go to sleep, Tobias.
Tobias discarded his damp towel and crawled under the covers. She didn’t care anymore whether or not he realized that the end of the world also heralded the end of their marriage.
The Burkes settled in for the night, taking up familiar places in their bed. It became a ritual. Every night after Tommy was asleep, Tobias and Isabelle watched the news for any sign that maybe the crisis in the cities had passed. Light from the TV illuminated their weary faces. The woman on the screen repeated the same message she or someone like her read every night. Don’t go out alone and stay away from anyone that looks sick. One location was secured while another was not.
Isabelle lit a cigarette. The smoke bothered Tobias immensely. Just a few weeks ago, she would have never considered smoking in the house, much less in the bedroom. It seemed the collapse of society didn’t end at their doorstep, after all, no matter what her husband thought. “Did anything exciting happen at work today?” Isabelle asked reluctantly.
“Just Danny.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes as she exhaled long and slow. “Let me guess, Vanessa?”
“Yup.” Tobias situated himself away from the path of drifting smoke.
“Huh.” Isabelle shrugged. At least Danny knew how to show interest. She looked again to the darkened window while taking another long drag.
“Right.” Tobias’s full attention was on the TV, as usual.
Isabelle dropped the cigarette butt into a discarded rum bottle at the side of the bed. Smoke wafted from the glass as the butt rolled around the bottom of the bottle until finally landing in a tiny pool of liquid, extinguishing it with a sizzle. “Okay, enough brooding already. I know the look. What is it?” Isabelle honestly didn’t care what his answer was. She had heard it all before. Tobias didn’t trust the mayor, Danny was an idiot, and this person and that person… Enough! When he wasn’t complaining, he could be overbearing. She imagined herself punching him square in the face and telling him to shut up and fuck off.
Tobias turned to Isabelle, and for what seemed like the first time in weeks, it felt like he wanted to speak with her, not at her. “You ever wonder what’s really going on out there? I mean out there, the rest of the state, the country, hell, the rest of the world, even?”
If it wasn’t so dark and she hadn’t drunk so much earlier, looking back on this moment come morning, she would have sworn Tobias was tearing up. Isabelle tried to feign concern. Tobias had become so detached from her he wouldn’t notice, anyway. She wasn’t frightened, though she would play the part. “I try not to think about it too much. With the kids and all, I… Look, we have a good thing here, Tobias. Lots of friends, plenty of food. We’re safe from those things.”
“That’s just it, Isabelle. I’m not sure how safe we really are.” Tobias turned down the volume on the TV, just loud enough for Isabelle to stop worrying about Tommy waking. It was the same instructions displayed at all hours of the day: do this, don’t do that. Isabelle touched her husband’s hand, and he turned the television off altogether.
“The TV says the same shit it’s been saying for days now, Izzy. We have seen nothing new in almost a week. For all we know, the TV station’s equipment was left playing on a loop. They could have abandoned the place weeks ago, or worse.”
Isabelle stared at Tobias for a moment. “Don’t talk like that. If the kids hear you say those things, you’ll scare the shit out of them.”
“Good, it should scare them. We should all be scared. We, us, this whole goddamn town is not ready for the kind of attacks we saw on the news. If just a handful of those things ever made it over the berm unnoticed…” Tobias briefly paused. He looked to his wife, then out to the hallway leading to the children’s bedrooms, and finally back to the black television screen.
“What are you saying, Tobias?”
“I’m saying we should take the kids and get the fuck out of this town.”
11:15pm - Town Outskirts
Moonlight shone through the foliage, dotting the forest floor in random splotches of white. The contrast between light and dark played tricks on their eyes, but Danny was used to it. Growing up hunting these woods, you became familiar with the territory and conditions or went hungry. That was true now more than ever. Almost every night since the town went on lockdown, Danny brought an inexperienced hunter out into the forest to show them their way around a gun. Sometimes, if they were lucky, they would also be shown how to clean a kill. Just over a month ago, hunting this close to town would have been rewarded with a night in jail and a hefty fine. Things had changed.
Steven would have been nearly finished his junior year of high school had a region-wide epidemic not ground the everyday trappings of civilization to a halt. The boy drew a breath and exhaled slowly, his target in sight. A medium-sized doe grazed in the moonlight, its young fawn in tow. Under normal circumstances, shooting the younger deer would have been forbidden. Times were growing desperate, though, and every wild-caught meal took a little strain off of Thomas’s farm. At least the doe would live to breed again. The fawn left alone would surely die. This catch, though modest, would feed many for days. Tonight’s hunt was vital. The men lay in the dirt, waiting.
Steven had his shot lined up. Danny lay beside him in the dark, whispering soft words of encouragement. “That’s it, kid. When it’s in your sights and you think you’re ready, take a breath, hold it, and slowly pull the trigger.”
Steven was ready. The fawn was in sight. All I have to do is squeeze the trigger and I’ll be a hero, at least for a few days, he thought. He would hand-deliver a portion of the spoils to Cindy Peterson. Her dad didn’t like him very much, but too bad. No
one turned down a free meal. Not now, at least.
The doe was in range. Steven remained calm and confident; it was time to prove himself.
A carrier burst from the shadows and latched onto Steven’s arm. Danny rolled the opposite way and was quickly on his feet. In the distance, the deer disappeared into the night.
Steven screamed while jumping to his feet. “Shit!” Long hours lying prone cramped his legs. He quickly lost his balance, falling backward on top of the creature. His rifle discharged as they landed. “Oh God, help me! Help!”
Danny stumbled backward into a tree as the boy’s rifle fired again. This time the bullet caught Danny in the throat. Steven was lying on his back on top of the infected, unable to escape its grasp as a second carrier appeared from the darkness. The infected beneath Steven latched its jagged teeth down on the boy’s neck. Blood sprayed onto the thing’s decaying face as it tore free a large section of meat. The second carrier, excited by the commotion, joined its companion and pounced atop the boy. This second one chewed ferociously on the soft flesh of Steven’s exposed belly. The creature’s ruined jagged teeth were like razors and easily dug a hole into the young hunter’s stomach. Its prize reached, the infected gorged itself on the boy’s warm, wet entrails.
Danny slid down the tree, clenching his throat and gasping for air. Blood escaped from his neck and mouth. His eyes went wide and his lips trembled. He could only watch as Steven struggled to free himself from his attackers.
Infected ravaged Steven’s body, dislodging large chunks of flesh. His clothes and the ground beneath him were drenched in blood, making the soft earth even slicker than before. As the two infected struggled for dominance over their meal, Steven’s warm intestines spilled out onto the cold forest floor. Steam rose from the boy’s emptied cavity.
Danny’s eyesight was fading as the torrent of blood from his neck dwindled to a trickle. Across from him, Steven’s arm reached out. His fingers seemed to play in the soft dirt. The boy’s lips still moved, trying to form words that Danny could not make out—a result of his weakened state or the boy’s he would never know.
