by T. W. Brown
The bullet tore a hole through the thing’s throat, causing it to rock back a little. The liquid drizzled slightly from the blackened hole. It didn’t even notice.
Diedre fired again.
The bullet entered the center of the forehead and exploded out the back. The thing that wasn’t Bill toppled back and disappeared from sight. She waited a few minutes, then walked over to the grave and looked in.
Taking the shovel Bill had used, she nudged the arms down beside the body and mostly straightened the legs. Then, Diedre filled the hole. Finally, she placed a makeshift cross at the head of the grave and went inside.
More of those things had gathered. Where had they all come from? Diedre wondered. The big house seemed so empty now. Each time she looked outside, there were more of them. She was lonely.
With a sigh, Diedre walked downstairs. She emerged onto the front porch as the sun slowly sank behind the distant mountains. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? And now, just that suddenly, she was alone. Diedre hated being along.
Slowly, she walked to the large gate. There were so many. All of them reaching desperately for her. For a moment, she stood there looking at the horror staring back at her. The last sliver of sun dipped away from sight. A beautiful pink and purple glow tinged the couple of very fluffy looking clouds. There was a noticeably sudden change in temperature that made the skin on her exposed arms turn to gooseflesh. She took a look back at her great big dream house, struck by the realization that it meant nothing.
Diedre reached up and unlocked the gate.
“So,” Chad looked down from the desk he’d stood on in order to let everybody see and hear him, “they left last night. Most to search for their friends. Their families.”
“What are we supposed to do now?” an angry voice shouted over the din of nervous chatter.
“I don’t know.” Chad glanced down at Donna and his daughter, Ronni.
“What’ll we do for food?” another voice shouted.
“I don’t know.” Chad looked back out at the dirty, gaunt, wide-eyed faces.
“Who put you in charge?” Kimberly’s voice was unmistakable.
“Captain Moore,” Chad replied.
“Well he abandoned us.” Kimberly pushed forward in the crowd. “I’d say that means that anything he said don’t mean shit.”
A few voices murmured their agreement or approval. Chad glanced down at Donna. She was getting a look in her eyes that he knew was trouble. The last thing he wanted today was trouble.
“That’s right,” Chad said, holding his hands up. The stunned look on Kimberly’s face was almost as comical as the confused look on Donna’s. “Which is why I am letting everybody know that I will be leaving this place tomorrow morning. Anybody who wants to come is welcome.”
“Where will we go?” several voices shouted over one another.
“I don’t know,” Chad yelled above the din and raised his hands again to try and quiet the crowd. “What I do know is that we are in the heart of a fairly populated area and more of those things come every day. I’m for heading to the boonies.”
That was all he had to say. Chad jumped off the desk and put his arms around Ronni and Donna. He began to shepherd them through the crowd. Not surprisingly, Kimberly had jumped up on the desk. She was now trying to convince everybody to just stay put, wait for the proper authorities.
“Daddy?” Ronni said once they reached their little cubicle. It was the first time she’d spoken to him directly since he’d been forced to kill little Amber Henson. “Where are we gonna go?”
“Someplace with fewer of those things,” Chad answered. He wanted desperately to put his arms around his daughter and hug her tight.
“Are you sure you should’ve invited all comers to join us?” Donna asked.
“Safety in numbers,” Chad answered, not totally convinced by his own words.
“Well,” Donna crossed her arms and cast an angry look over her shoulder at the sound of Kimberly’s voice rising above a sudden outburst from the crowd, “at least we can be rid of that bitch.”
“And away from the smell,” Ronni made a show of wrinkling her nose at the stench of the gloomy gymnasium.
“Chad!” Brett Simmons burst through the gymnasium doors from outside where Kimberly’s rally seemed to be growing spirited. “We’ve got a problem!”
“So handle it yourselves,” Donna snapped. “If you weren’t listening, we’re leaving. Chad doesn’t want to be in charge of anything to—”
“We’ve got a breech!” Brett cut her off. “At least a couple dozen are inside the fence!”
“Daddy?” Ronni turned to Chad with eyes wide with fear.
“Don’t worry, sweetie.” Risking the possible denial he stepped up and wrapped his arms around his daughter. He noticed her stiffen slightly, but at least she didn’t push him away. “You and your mom gather up only the essentials, and don’t forget a few bottles of water. Put those in my bag. Be ready when I get back.”
A scream from outside caused everybody to turn.
“Hurry!” Chad gave his daughter one last squeeze and ran for the door.
Cary switched off the radio. He’d been listening to the chatter from what sure sounded like an organized group. They’d rolled into a town, Heath, this morning. He’d perked up when he heard the mention of someplace that he could point to on a map. He’d hoped that this group would welcome him.
Then he’d listened to their raid on the poor survivors that had suffered the misfortune of meeting this band of barbarians. Orders like “Torch the building and smoke ‘em out!” and “Just grab the women, none of those men are worth the waste of food.” It got a bit interesting when somebody had apparently lobbed a grenade into one of their trucks.
He only wished that those folks had more firepower. While there had certainly been some casualties suffered by the raiders, the outcome had still been disastrous for the poor people of Heath. Cary considered his choices for a while. Eventually his curiosity won out over his common sense.
Unfortunately, his gas gauge informed him that there were more pressing matters. He pulled up beside a pair of vehicles that looked to have been forcibly moved off the road. There were a handful of undead trundling in his direction. Nothing too worrisome. He had to remind himself that it was entirely possible that he’d gotten lucky. There was no reason to tempt fate and allow himself to be bitten again. Not to mention the whole pain factor.
He went to work siphoning gas. He’d actually gotten quite proficient at that the past couple days. He really loved his Highway Patrol car. There was simply no reason to abandon it if he wasn’t pressed for time. Eventually he was on the move once more. A sign read: Heath 4 mi. State Route 79 was surprisingly clear. An empty RV-Park to the right caught his eye as he passed. There’d been a big fire very recently. One of the abandoned vehicle husks still smoked.
5
Geeks, Logic, and Lunch
Heather stood in front of the full-length mirror swapping out dresses that she would hold up to herself one after another. They were a little long for her taste, but she was tired of all the long sleeves, leather gloves, boots, and other assorted apparel that Kevin insisted they wear anytime they stepped outside. Of course, he had a really good reason. But for just one evening, she wanted to feel like a girl again. Deciding on blue, she hurried back downstairs.
All day, she’d kept the two men out of the kitchen. She was preparing dinner. And while the menu was limited, she’d found some things that allowed for a touch of creativity. The big surprise was inside the woodstove, sitting on a metal rack. She looked out towards the barn a few times and caught them standing beside the beat up old truck, sniffing the air.
It’d been a long night last night. Those terrible men hadn’t left until after dark. The smell of burning kept drifting through every once in a while. Fortunately, the wind was blowing the smoke—and spreading fire—away from their location. Still, that terrible smell would oc
casionally overwhelm the yummy aroma that was drifting out the open kitchen window.
Checking the table for probably the tenth time, Heather made it a point not to look down at the dark stain on the floor. She hadn’t actually seen what had been there, but Kevin and Mike had both been bothered. They hadn’t let her near the area until they’d covered everything with blankets. And when they’d cleaned the area, they’d made her stay out. Like she hadn’t seen tons of bad stuff already. After making minute adjustments in the spacing that not even she could detect, everything was still straight and evenly spaced.
Every once in a while, her arm would brush the .22 caliber six-shooter on her hip. It was weird carrying a gun. It was weirder sleeping with one. This morning, she’d been chewed out a little. Kevin caught her trying to twirl the pistol on her finger like in the old cowboy movies. Truthfully, the only cowboy movie she’d ever seen was Tombstone. The guy playing Doc Holliday was cute. She’d seen the actor later and he wasn’t so cute anymore. He looked…squishy.
Ewwwww.
Looking out the window, she saw Kevin and Mike lifting a big, white cylinder that reminded her of a vitamin capsule for a giant. They had some contraption with poles, chains, and straps to lift the thing. Mike had his shirt off. He didn’t look like his body’d ever been exposed to sunlight. It was almost whiter than the giant vitamin. He had a bit of a sag in his belly even though he was tall and skinny.
Then she looked at Kevin. He was almost exactly like Mike in so many ways. Only, his body was wiry and reminded her of a volleyball player she’d had a poster of in her room. It was clear that he was comfortable working with his hands as well as his brain. His dark-blonde hair showed traces of highlights. That was a little weird. And he was so awkward when he spoke to her. Even when he’d scolded her today about “treating her gun like a toy” it had taken everything he had to look her in the eyes. She could tell. He kept looking away, usually at the ground.
She sighed just a little. Maybe tonight Mike would drink something a little stronger than a rum and Coke. Maybe he’d go to sleep early. And maybe…just maybe…she would make her move.
“I’m telling you that you need to be careful,” Mike said as he began operating the hand crank, lowering the cylinder of ammonium nitrate into the bed of the pick-up truck.
“And I’m telling you that she’s just a kid,” Kevin countered. “She’s been through a rough deal and is just clinging to the guys who rescued her.”
“Guy,” Mike corrected.
“Really?” Kevin began unfastening the straps around the big cylinder. “We’re gonna do this?”
“Dude!” Mike stood and wiped the back of his arm across his forehead. “How do you not notice that she is curled up against you every morning when you wake up?”
“She has nightmares.” Kevin hopped out of the truck and headed into the barn with Mike on his heels. “Maybe she sleeps on her left side.”
“Then switch tonight and I’ll prove it.”
“Fine,” Kevin shrugged. “If it will shut you up I’ll do it. But as of tomorrow, I don’t want to hear another word about this nonsense.”
“I don’t believe how you cannot see it,” Mike mumbled.
“She’s. A. Kid.”
“Who happens to be extremely hot!” Mike’s voice cracked a little on the last word. “The exact type of girl who wouldn’t even acknowledge our existence in high school.”
“Two very important things in that statement.” Kevin held up his left hand and raised his index finger. “One…girl. A girl is not a woman. She is a child.”
“Dude—” Mike shook his head.
“Two,” Kevin held up the second finger, interrupting Mike, “high school. How long ago was that? A decade?”
“And you think any of that matters now?” Mike laughed.
“How did you not end up face to face with Chris Hansen?”
“This better not be about that Bergman broad,” Mike growled as he hoisted a pair of five-gallon gas cans. He was almost to the truck when he realized that Kevin hadn’t said anything. He set the heavy plastic containers down and turned. “Ruth?”
“Did you know she grabbed condoms at that stop when you and Darrin got so pissed?”
“So?”
“Why would she need condoms, Mike?”
“Were they on top?” Mike asked, blown away that his friend had been suckered so obviously.
Kevin shifted his weight from one foot to another. “What if they were? What’s the big deal?”
“Right,” Mike scoffed. “Because anybody who’s ever bought condoms always puts them on top…”
“Mike—”
“Kevin,” it was Mike’s turn to interrupt, “how many top buttons were undone by girls who needed a little math homework? How many little flashes of bra or panty had you explaining a rough physics assignment or step-by-stepping a calculus problem?”
Kevin shrugged.
“And how many times did you receive access to those hallowed grounds? How many times did you actually get to touch the mommy-parts? Not just in high school, my friend.” Mike walked up to his friend. He felt sorry for the guy. He really had delusional problems. The chick he wanted had zero interest and the hot little schoolgirl that he viewed through “civilized” eyes was drenching her panties over him and he really didn’t see any of it. “What about college? Did it get any better there?”
“Well I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking,” Kevin snapped.
“How many?” Mike asked.
“I don’t see—”
“How many?” Mike prodded.
Kevin mumbled something unintelligible, his eyes dropping to the ground.
“What?” Mike held a hand to one ear. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Three.” Kevin’s eyes came up, hot with anger. “And what about you, smart guy?”
“Rented or regular?” Mike asked.
“What?”
“Rented or regular,” Mike repeated. “Do I count hookers?”
“You really are disgusting.” Kevin grabbed his own gas containers and shouldered past Mike to the truck. Mike fell in on his heels.
“One way or the other, you pay for it,” Mike said.
“That’s such a lame excuse.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
“Well you’re not gonna say anything that will convince me that I should direct my interests towards a sixteen-year-old girl.” Kevin began repositioning some of the items in the back of the pick-up truck. Mike handed him his gas containers.
“What if she was eighteen?” Mike asked.
“That’s different,” Kevin said as he hopped out of the truck and headed back to the barn.
“You know, back in the olden days, with the pioneers and settlers, Heather’d have two kids by now and—”
“We aren’t in the olden days. And we aren’t having this conversation anymore.”
“Puritan,” Mike muttered as he picked up the other end of the wooden crate Kevin had already hoisted one end of.
They carried it outside and set it back down. Kevin began putting the contents in the back with all the other com-ponents.
“I worry about you,” Mike laughed as he held up a box with a bunch of triangle-shaped, saw-toothed blades, each about the size of the palm of his hand. “That the knowledge to make something like this was floating around in your head is just a bit disturbing.”
“Everybody has their hobbies,” Kevin smiled.
“Smell that?” Mike froze.
“What?” Kevin sniffed the air.
“I can’t place it,” Mike breathed in deep through his nose, “but it’s something sweet.”
They finished transferring everything from the big box into the truck. They hauled out two more, and only had to stop once for a couple of shamblers that wandered across the field in search of warm flesh. Kevin pulled a ratty burlap tarp over the jumble and secured it in place.
“How sure are you that this
is gonna work?” Mike asked as they walked back to the house.
“Eighty percent,” Kevin said with a glance back at the truck.
“Better than a lottery ticket.”
The two walked up onto the back porch. The door flew open and Heather held her hands out.
“Go around front!” She stood in the doorway, barring entrance.
The two glanced at one another. A wave of smells rolled out causing a rather Pavlovian response. They glanced down at the tiny figure planted before them. Her long hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. She wore an apron over a blue dress that hung a bit loosely, but still flattered. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at them.
“Around front and up the stairs.” Heather pointed. “There is a washtub for each of you, and I hung a clean set of clothes also.”
Mike raised an eyebrow at the girl, “What’s wrong with what we have on?”
“Besides being gross? Smelly? Not washed in how many days?” Heather waved a hand in front of her face for emphasis. “And that reminds me, when is the last time you guys washed any of your clothes? You both need some new stuff. Especially underwear.”
“Shopping hasn’t been too high on the list,” Mike said with a scowl. “What, with zombies trying to eat us, and assholes raiding us, stealing our stuff.”
“Go wash.” Heather pointed again, turned and walked back into the house, letting the screen door close behind her.
