by Diane Butler
There was a road separating the field from the house. She quickly looked both ways but did not see signs of zombies or humans to know why the dog was growling. She noticed that the dog was staring at the house so she studied each window and door but did not see movement from inside. A barn was further into the background behind the house but all appeared to be eerily quiet.
Then she noticed that the dog was looking at the skeleton. She knelt down and put her arms around him and he did not shy away from her touch. “It’s all right. You won’t need to look at him anymore. I’ll cut him down and burn him. Now, show me where you live. Show me where to go.” The dog dropped his squirrel meat and turned to look at her strangely. It caught her by surprise and she asked, “Do you know me? Do I know you?” She didn’t know why she had asked that question but found that her heart was racing. She must have asked the right thing because the dog immediately put his paws on her shoulders and began to frantically lick her face and neck with a small pitiful whine.
Roxanne laughed as he almost knocked her over, “It’s okay, boy. It’s okay. I love you too,” she said as his tail wagged so hard that he almost lost his balance. She looked over at the coyote that stood watching with a superior look of knowledge. “Do you approve, Cowboy? All right, stop now dog. That’s enough.” She sat back on her haunches and wiped her face with her sleeve. She sat there looking at the plantation and its surroundings but none of it seemed familiar. If the dog knew her then it was from another place.
“Can’t go on calling you ‘dog’,” she said. “What name should I give you?” She looked around, “here all by yourself and managing to stay alive I would say that you are one lucky dog. Why don’t I name you ‘Lucky’?” The dog stepped back and gave a snort. “No? Well, why don’t we stick with that for now until I come up with something better. Now, show me around the place” she said as she stood up trying to take in the layout of the land.
The dog picked up his squirrel and stood looking up the road toward the north as if he was being cautious before entering the highway and then crossed away from the house going behind a tree-line to the right. Although the dog was completely relaxed Roxanne had not dropped her guard and had her staff in both hands. The coyote was silent walking beside her but Roxanne knew that she was on alert. The dog picked up its pace and trotted to a row of three cabins with porches and Roxanne saw it go through the door of the last one. She stayed off the porches not wanting to make any noise although she knew her moccasins would be quiet. She saw a pond to her left and hoped that there would be fish in addition to the geese that she had seen earlier.
Once she approached the last cabin she saw that Lucky had gone through a doggie-door and had understood Roxanne’s request to show her where he lived, where he was safe. Not knowing if the dog shared his quarters with a human she listened at the door for movement or voices but only heard the dog’s toenails on the wooden floors. She turned the knob and slowly opened the door a few feet to see Lucky calmly sitting there waiting for her while he finished eating his squirrel.
***
She had cut the hanging man’s body down, stabbed him through the ear and was burning him behind the barn along with the other decomposed bodies that she had found in the house, when the first Z’s came through. Lucky ran to a staircase and began to climb over furniture to the upper floor. Cowboy and Roxanne followed him since she hadn’t learned the layout of the place yet and all its entries. From the second floor ballroom she watched as a group of about fifteen zombies came into the front yard through the broken fence and went towards the barn. She went through the rooms to the back of the house and saw that they were attracted by the smoke from her fire. “Note to self. Do not burn bodies. Bury them instead,” she sighed. “That’s a lot of work and I’m not sure I’m up to doing it.” She turned to see the two animals sitting side-by-side watching her. Lucky came forward and grabbed the end of the curtain in his teeth and pulled it across the window. “Okay, I get it. Don’t burn bodies, and stay away from the windows.”
She knelt down and put her hand under Lucky’s jaw, “What happened here, boy? Did the man kill everyone and then hang himself? Were they good people?” The dog snorted and yanked his head away from Roxanne’s hand to walk away. “Well,” she said standing up, “let’s explore the place while waiting for the undead to move on.” She walked to the bed and leaned over to retrieve a bandana that she had seen on the floor while kneeling down to talk to Lucky. Then she walked past them and said over her shoulder, “and yes, I will be quiet while doing it.” She was fortunate while searching the cabin that Lucky had led her to. One of the dressers had two shirts and a pair of jeans in it. All of the items were clean and neatly folded but by the dust in the place she knew that no one had been there in quite some time. She found a piece of rawhide on the bedside table and had braided her long hair behind her back and tied it. She usually wore her hair loose to cover the scar on her face, but was no longer concerned about it. She had seen her reflection in the water barrel at Shoes cabin and knew it had meant to be an “S” although crudely cut. Shoes had done her best to fade the scar and they never talked about it but Roxanne knew what the intent was. Someone or a group of people had felt that she was a scarlet woman and had reverted to the standards of the eighteenth century to mark her. She had learned to accept it and knew that the ZA had caused some people to look at past history for answers on what was happening in this new world. They may have taken up old superstitions too and she could have been a victim of that.
She also found a dog brush in the cabin which Lucky became excited over when he saw her pick it up. She put everything into her duffle bag and had gone to the house to occupy herself in disposing of the bodies that she found in various rooms. It wasn’t until she searched those same rooms a second time that she realized that none of the dead men had a back-pack or duffle bag in their room. No weapons, clothing, bottles of water or supplies. Either they came in with nothing or everything was taken by looters, possibly killing them if they weren’t already dead. She had an eerie feeling that she was being watched which gave her doubts as to whether this would be a safe place to hold up for a while.
She had grown weary of paddling the bayou, although its beauty still captivated her. She wanted to settle down for a couple of weeks before venturing further north in the canoe. But after seeing the violence that had taken place here she did not feel that she could stay in the house. She hadn’t checked the barn yet but if that wasn’t suitable then Lucky’s cabin would do. She checked the activity of the zombies since she was anxious to pull her canoe to more protective ground and camouflage it from anyone traveling down that inlet. She also wanted to empty the water out of the fiberglass pirogue and store it in a better position. When she took to the water again she would have two animals with her this time and needed the extra room.
The zombies were oblivious to the fire that she had started to burn the bodies and they had pulled the uneaten corpses from the flames. Roxanne was surprised that they would eat rotting meat and had thought that they fed only on fresh flesh. “They must be running out of food,” she whispered to Cowboy. Some of the Z’s were on fire themselves but continued eating until the flames consumed them.
The rooms in the house were filled with the smell of death and she knew that she could not stay here. The basement, the attic, the kitchen, every room had been cleared out of supplies. She took a small frying pan and sauce pan from the kitchen along with utensils but even steak knives had been removed. She could have tried on some of the shoes from the dead men but maggots had already formed and her mind just wouldn’t let her sink that low.
She checked the front of the house again and looked up the road to see that it was empty. “Is that why you looked north before crossing the road Lucky?” she looked down at him. “Do they always come from the north? Come on you two. The coast is clear so we’ll go out the front and they won’t see us. I want to get back to the canoe.”
When she came through the crop field from
the house she noticed a pile of bones in a clearing and stopped to examine them. It obviously had been a bonfire and she assumed that this was where the last occupants of the house were burning zombies or burning their own who had died. She decided to use the same place if needed in the future. She knew that at some point she would be forced to kill a zombie and needed proof of her ability to do so, but she wasn’t looking forward to it. If at all possible she planned to always hide and go on the defense, to save her energy. She had practiced and strengthened while at Shoes but she still tired before the day was out and she felt that she would not be in top form until she saw nightfall with energy still left. She knew that she had once been stronger than this and it saddened her.
Dragging the dead bodies out of the house had all but exhausted her and she thought of sleeping in the pirogue for the night. She looked up at the sun and saw that she only had a couple of hours of daylight left and hurried through the marsh to her canoe. She reached for her pillowcase of herbs and eatable roots when the coyote grabbed the hem of her dress and began to growl. Quickly she drew her hand back and looked around for danger. There was no one on or across the marsh, no ripple of an alligator in the water and nothing in the moss hanging above her. She looked down at the canoe and then kicked it to see a Cottonmouth come out from behind her satchel. Quickly she ran her staff through it and then used the staff to raise it out of the boat and onto land where she chopped its head off with her knife, making sure that the poison glands were removed. “Dinner, guys. Thanks Cowboy,” she looked down at the coyote and scratched her behind the neck.
She turned the canoe over and hid it with moss, then managed to tilt the pirogue to empty it of water and pulled it partially onto the bank. She collapsed on the bank with sweat on her face and could feel it pouring down her back. “That’s it guys. I can’t do anymore today and it doesn’t look as if this waterway has been traveled for a long time since the boat hadn’t been discovered before we arrived.”
They went back to the clearing with the bones and Roxanne decided to cook their dinner there as it would be away from the house and cabins. Afterward she went to Lucky’s cabin and found that the lock still worked on the door. As a precaution she put a chair against the doorknob and decided she would check the pond tomorrow to see if it was safe to bathe in. She pulled the curtains shut on the windows in the living room and tested the window in the bedroom since it was open only enough to allow Lucky to get through. With difficulty she managed to raise it higher to allow enough room for her to crawl out if necessary. But knowing that someone or something could also crawl in did not give her a sense of safety. Tomorrow she would check the barn for some lubricant to see if she could loosen the window up.
She looked around, “I don’t know Lucky. I know this is your home but I would much rather be on a higher level yet I can’t stand the stench in that house. Tomorrow I’ll check the barn for a loft.” She looked at the coyote. “We may be moving on Cowboy. I know that we are out of your territory so are you okay with that?” she asked as she sat on the bed. Both animals jumped on the bed with Cowboy settling at the foot and Lucky on the other side. The dog began to sniff at her neck as if he wanted to remember her smell. “Don’t worry Lucky. We will take you with us if you want to come. I have a feeling that you have been here alone for a long, long time and that the bodies were not people who were friendly to you.” She had noticed that one of the bodies in the front room was propped up against the bed and had wounds that indicated an animal had mauled him. They were old wounds so she knew that the dog had not resorted to eating the bodies, it was more of an indication that the dog had attacked the man. Someone had put a knife through the man’s ear so he wouldn’t turn but she assumed it was the same man who hung himself.
She knew that the animals would not have gotten on the bed if the mattress or pillow had mice or a snake in it, so she grabbed a blanket that was on the couch and took it back to the bedroom to settle in. It was just starting to get dark but she did not bother to get the piece of candle out of her duffle bag since lighting it would only attract possible danger. She took one last look around the room to familiar herself with it in case she woke in the night and needed to move quickly. Nothing in the house or the cabin led her to believe that she had been here before but she had been getting bad vibes about the place ever since she arrived and saw the hanging man. She didn’t think that she would stay more than a couple of days since the house had not helped her to replenish her supplies.
The next day Roxanne checked the other two cabins and found that they also had been looted not even leaving a blanket behind. It was as if her cabin was off limits to outsiders because the dog lived there. Perhaps anyone coming by did not want to challenge the dog for his space since there was so much more to explore for supplies. It gave her the weird sensation that the dog had been waiting and protecting it for her and that someone had left her some clothes that would fit. The cabin was telling her ‘Welcome Home’ and she did not like that feeling at all. There was still something not right here and she couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. She often glanced at the coyote for reassurance that she was not in danger.
In the first cabin she found a broken arrow on the floor and when she picked it up something familiar swept through her. “Damn,” she whispered as her heart sped up. “I’m good at this. A crossbow….I’m good at this.” She quickly looked around as a chill went up her spine and suddenly she missed the feel of the weapon, the feel of it in her hands and across her back. She had to sit down on the bed because her knees started to shake. The coyote became concerned and walked over to nudge her hand. She looked down at her in a daze. “I was good with a crossbow, Cowboy. I know I was, or….am….perhaps I’m still good.” She looked out the door, “What a great weapon to know. Wonder what happened to it. I’ll never find another now, not with all the towns and cities being ransacked.” She felt a great loss and became saddened by it.
She walked out the door and looked toward the pond. “I don’t like this place, but at least I’m finding out more about myself even if accidentally.” She knew that she should take the time to hunt and kill a duck for breakfast but was anxious to check the barn first. She walked over the footbridge across the pond and glanced down to see that it did have fish. They were small and it would take a lot to fill a hungry person, but they would add flavor to one of her stews. She took up her staff and followed the stone wall, glancing in at the gate to see that it contained a pool filled with rotting zombies. She pulled back and covered her nose, then tested the gate. It was latched but not locked so she knew that the Z’s hadn’t wandered in on their own accord. Perhaps someone had led them there and they had fallen in while trampling over each other.
She followed the stone wall until she could see the barn and saw the body of someone who had been caught by zombies and consumed outside the barn doors. The Z’s of the day before had all dispersed but Roxanne watched and listened for a few minutes before approaching. She put her back to the wall of the barn and thought that she heard something or someone shuffling inside. It could be a rat or animal but she wasn’t taking any chances. She stepped away from the wall and banged on it with her staff, then backed up as she heard the moaning inside. She drew her knife from her sheath and was pleased with how her fingers had wrapped around it of their own accord.
The zombie came out of the barn looking straight ahead and never saw her at his side. She raised the knife to stab him through the head but suddenly the zombie was knocked backward by the weight of Lucky diving into its chest at a fast run. The dog ran 10’ away and turned to sit down to watch Roxanne stab the zombie on the ground with her staff. Roxanne stood there with her hand still on the shaft and looked at the dog. “I don’t want you to do that Lucky. I’m sure that I’m capable of handling one zombie. I don’t want you to get hurt and you don’t need to prove anything to me. I know that you’re good if you’ve survived this long.”
She left the staff in the zombie and went over to knee
l down in front of the dog and put her hands behind his ears to caress him, “Only if I’m in trouble, okay?” The dog answered by licking her face. She removed the staff from the zombie and the coyote came in to join the search of the barn. She found some tackle for horses and thought that the leather may come in handy. There were a few stale bales of hay and she began to gather some since the marsh often did not have dry wood for a fire and the hay would help to get one started on those rainy nights. A few glass jars, some ointments used for horses and she realized that if she continued to collect items along the way that her canoe could not handle it all and that she would be taking the pirogue when she left the premises.
She climbed the ladder to the loft and found another arrow in the loose hay. She walked to the open window and knew that someone had taken up watch from here. She studied the bolt and let it become familiar in her hand. This one was not cracked or rotten and had a very straight shaft. She decided to keep it and was walking back to the ladder when her foot touched something under the hay. She uncovered it to discover an unopened bottle of beer and began to chuckle. This would bring a great price in the bayou.
She had planned on leaving that morning after spending the previous afternoon fishing and killing two ducks for her journey. She had spent four days at the plantation and felt it was time to move on. She cooked and smoked everything and put them into the jars that she found. But she woke to a heavy fog and it would be too dangerous to find her way through the marsh to load the pirogue, much less to travel in these conditions through the bayou. The dog had woken her by licking her hand and after getting dressed she stood at the door of her cabin feeling spooked. She looked over her shoulder and whispered, “I want both of you to stay close to me until this burns off. Don’t wander off.” She looked back toward the plantation. “This is too thick to see anything until it’s upon you.” The fog had a damp mist to it so she retrieved a small blanket that had been thrown across the couch and put it over her head and wrapped her arms in it. She went out on the porch to sit in a rocker and the canines came out to sit on each side of her.
