The sun was already high in the sky, and Abby guessed that it was mid-morning. She slowly climbed down the tree, carefully letting herself drop to the ground from the lowest branch. She hit the ground with a thud and grunted in pain. Her head pounded painfully, her back was stiff, her tongue and throat were dry, and the lack of water was making her sick. She lifted her shirt up and saw that there was an ugly bruise on her stomach where Vicky had hit her with the shotgun.
“If I don’t find water today, I’ll die,” she thought gloomily. Abby once again took up her western course, but what she didn’t know was that she was actually heading slightly north-west. And on top of that, in her line of travel, the Mississippi curved several miles to the west, making it even farther away. Adding to Abby’s misfortunate was the remoteness of her present location, amidst old farms and wide open plains only sparsely wooded here and there. Occasionally Abby crossed an old dirt road or a crumbling county road, but the only other signs of manmade structures was the odd farmhouse or barn, and the few of these that Abby entered contained nothing of use to her in her present predicament.
Later that afternoon, with still no sign of water, Abby was beginning to despair. She could barely hold her head up as she walked, her tongue felt like a wad of cotton in her mouth, and her head still ached. Afternoon was becoming evening, and she was fading fast. Her vision was blurry and she often stumbled as she walked despite the fact that she was barely moving at a shuffle through an old farm field. She tripped over a rock and fell flat on the ground. She lay there for a minute, feeling the long, cold fingers of Death clawing up her legs and back.
“I don’t want to die,” she whimpered as she continued to lay motionlessly. A light wind wound its way across the field, throwing some loose blades of grass and dust into Abby’s hair. A beetle of some kind was marching along the massive open space, headed in a direct line towards Abby. She watched as it stopped a few inches in front of her face, contemplated the colossal obstacle in front of it, and then began its detour around Abby’s head, moving out of her sight.
“Well,” Abby finally said to herself, “keep moving then! If you want to live, get off your butt, stop feeling sorry for yourself, and go find water! That’s what Zach would do!” She pushed herself up slowly and got to her knees, breathing heavily, as if that tiny effort had exhausted her. She lifted first one leg, and then the other, and just like that she was back on her feet, and the fingers of Death retreated into shadow. “Not yet,” she whispered. “You can’t have me yet.”
The sun was setting now, throwing brushstrokes of orange and pink across the cloudless blue evening sky. But Abby kept walking. She feared that if she stopped to rest, she’d fall asleep and if she fell asleep, she would never wake up. So she soldiered on, clinging to hope and life, though she looked half-dead already. Suddenly, she heard an all too familiar sound. Her head jerked up and her eyes grew wide. Without hesitating, she ran as fast as she could. The sound grew louder and louder, but Abby was exhausted and near death. Running became jogging, which soon turned into walking, and then she was crawling on her hands and knees. The sound was deafening in her ears, but Abby could not even stand back up. “Please…” she whispered.
Zach and the others kept going throughout most of the night, slept only for a few hours, and then moved again at sunrise, and so reached the river by mid-afternoon. But there was still no sign of Abby. They searched that area for a few hours but returned to their new rendezvous point once it was dark. Zach fought with all of his might to hold onto hope. It had been three whole days since Abby had disappeared, and she had nothing with her. They were in the process of settling in for the night when Zach suddenly saw a person moving slowly towards the group.
His heart jumped and his eyes grew wide with hope. “Abby? Is that you?” Zach called as everyone turned to look. Upon hearing that name, the figure stopped moving for a moment, and then ran forward. Zach stepped forward to get a closer look, but Al saw the figure’s face first and said her name in surprise, “Vicky!”
The expression on Zach’s face morphed instantly from one of hope to a mask of rage. His heart fell and crushed his wretched hopes. He charged forward and spear-tackled Vicky into the ground. She did not even resist as Zach mounted her, drew his KA-BAR, and pressed the blade against her throat. She was pale, looked almost dead, and had not a thing with her but the clothes on her back.
“Where is she?!” Zach growled.
“Who’s she?” Vicky asked in an antagonizing voice. Zach grabbed her shoulders, pulled her up, and head-butted her face. Her nose broke and blood flowed out of it as she wailed in pain.
“I swear to God, I will spill all of your blood if you don’t tell me where Abby is!”
“Oh, her. I took her for a little drive the other day. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”
Zach stabbed Vicky through the shoulder, making her yelp loudly. Some of the group thought that this kind of interrogation was excessive, and they exchanged nervous glances as they watched Zach carry out this brutality. But no one, not even Amber, dared interfere.
“Do not fuck with me again, bitch,” Zach said quietly.
“You let my brothers die!” Vicky said, writhing in agony. “You ever heard of karma?”
“Get to the point. Now.”
“Well…let’s just say that if you ever see your precious daughter again…heh, you should be careful to not let her bite you!” said Vicky, then she burst out into loud, insane laughter, her mouth coming almost unhinged as a snake’s.
Zach just stared at her blankly, refusing to believe that this was true. “No,” thought Zach. “She’s lying. Abby can’t be a…one of them.” Flashbacks were racing through his mind, taking him back to when his wife had been infected. Could this really be happening again? Could the person he cared for most in the world once again be taken from him like this? His body began to tremble and quiver with anger as this possibility spawned in his mind. A low, barely audible growl began to rumble deep in the pit of his chest. The demon was taking over again, and it demanded blood.
“You’re lying,” he whispered. Zach suddenly thrust his fingers into Vicky’s still wide open mouth, pinching her tongue and pulling it out as far as he could. At the same time, he ripped the knife out of Vicky’s shoulder and then used the serrated edge to saw at her tongue. The others gasped in disbelief at this sudden brutality, but no one moved to help Vicky as she screamed and thrashed about wildly. By now they were terrified of what Zach might do to any of them if they tried to stop him while in this dark state.
“No more lies!” Zach said as he cut the final threads of tissue holding Vicky’s tongue together and then held it up for her to see. Her screaming continued, as did Zach’s barbarism. Dropping his knife, he grabbed her cheeks with a claw-like hand, forcing her mouth open. With the other hand he thrust her bloody tongue down into her throat. He then clamped his hand over her mouth as she started to choke and gag. Finally, almost mercifully, he retrieved his knife and then slit Vicky’s throat wide open. Her eyes bugged out of her skull and her face contorted in pain and fear as she not only choked on her own tongue but also bled to death through the gaping hole in her throat. It took several seconds more for her to finally die.
Zach had watched with anger as the life seeped from Vicky’s eyes and he remained sitting on top of her for a few moments after she had stopped breathing. Satisfied that she was dead, he wiped his blade against her shirt, sheathed it, then stood up and stared down the rest of the group, his eyes daring anyone to say that what he had done was wrong. No one did, even if they inwardly thought so.
“She’s alive,” Zach declared, as much to himself as to the others. “We’ll search again tomorrow.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as everybody had the same thought, but no one wanted to ask the obvious question. Their food would not last forever, and finding more had been a rare event. How long could they keep up their search for Abby before endangering themselves? Compounding this worry was the grou
p’s newfound fear of Zach. Or, more precisely, what Zach was capable of when his wrath becomes fully kindled. Vicky had clearly lost her mind, and she had done something terrible to Abby, but she did not perhaps deserve what Zach did to her, they thought. But each of them had independently come to the conclusion that this should be a conversation for later, if ever at all. Amber finally stepped towards Zach and said gently, “And…if we don’t find her tomorrow?”
“We will,” Zach replied.
“But if we don’t?” she carefully pressed.
Zach was quiet for a moment, and then said, “We will.”
“Oh God, yes!” Abby cried. The familiar sound of rushing water had proven to be real indeed, and she giggled with glee when she thrust her arms into the cool waters of the Mississippi River. She took tiny sips of water from her cupped hands instead of gorging herself, knowing that that would just make her sick.
Once she drank as much as she could handle for the moment, she quickly stripped off all her clothes and walked out into the water until it splashed against her hips, then plunged underneath the surface and just let the cool sensation flow all around her body. She came back up for air and then went under again, and again. She came back up for the last time, and now started scrubbing at the dried blood on her arm, neck, and cheek. It came off of her skin easily enough, but some of it had clotted in her scalp and clung painfully to her hair. She grinned ruefully and thought about what Vicky had said about karma. “I have the same injuries that Zach got because of me,” she said to herself. It took several minutes, but eventually she cleaned all the blood out.
She climbed back out of the water, got dressed again, and then laid down on the ground to look up at the stars. She thought about how her situation had now changed. She had found the river, but not Zach. Where was he? Which way should she go? If she headed north along the river, but Zach was south of her, then they’d never see each other again. If she headed south along the river, but Zach was north of her, then she might forever be just a few miles ahead. Stay put? No, that was no good.
“I think south is my safest bet,” Abby said out loud to herself. “There’s got to be a settlement or something eventually. And if there is, and I reach it ahead of Zach, then all I’ll have to do is wait for him. Or if Zach got there ahead of me, then he’d probably be waiting for me.” Yes, south was where she would go.
She didn’t mean to, but Abby fell asleep there on the bank of the river. She had a dreamless sleep, and once again woke up to the morning sun shining down hotly on her, already making her sweat. She sat up and looked down at her stomach. The bruise was still there, but it didn’t look like it had gotten worse. The cut on her arm was completely scabbed over. Abby wanted to pick at it, but knew that she needed to leave it alone so it could heal properly. She felt the right side of her head. The gash was closed up, but now there was a painful lump. At least it didn’t hurt as bad as it did the day before, she noticed.
Abby jumped in the river again for a few minutes and then started walking south. Not too much later, her stomach growled loudly. No longer dying of thirst, she remembered how hungry she was. But where to find food? She wished she had her slingshot, and then maybe she could hit a bird or something. She glanced over at the river and thought about all the fish swimming around in there. “It’s worth a shot,” she muttered.
She took her boots and socks off, rolled her trousers up, and then waded out into knee-deep water. She stood still, looking down into the river, watching fish go by. Every now and then, a fish would come close and she’d thrust her hand down, but the fish would get away. She got her hand on one or two, but they always slipped out of her grasp.
Finally, after nearly an hour, she snatched a small carp fish. It was slippery and kept trying to wriggle free, and Abby must have looked quite silly trying to hang on to it, but to her credit, she didn’t lose it. She flung it desperately towards the shore when she thought that she couldn’t hold on any longer. It flopped back towards the water, but Abby leaped on top of it, smothering it under her body. She grabbed it firmly by the tail and smacked it hard against a rock, killing it. Zach had taught her that.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quietly, though of course the fish could not hear or understand her. She was still a young girl, and so she still felt a little bad about having to kill an animal. But she had to eat something. She pulled out her pocket knife and began to gut the fish, just like Zach had taught her years ago. She was all done and had gotten the meat ready when she suddenly realized that she had no way of making a fire to cook the fish. She was going to have to eat it raw.
She slowly lifted the tiny morsels towards her mouth. She made a face and said, “Oh God, this is gross.” It tasted awful, but Abby forced herself to chew and swallow. It took a few minutes for her to eat the whole thing. With food in her belly, she felt a little better as she continued her walk south. Just like yesterday, she walked until nightfall and then bathed in the river. But this time she got dressed and then began to look for another tree to sleep in.
She found one not far from the banks of the river, and climbed up to a suitable branch about ten feet off the ground. She leaned her back against the tree, wishing that she had a pillow. But then she remembered that she had her bandana, and wondered if she could make a ‘sort-of’ pillow out of it. She pulled it out of her pocket, but a sudden, strong wind came out of nowhere and ripped it out of her hand.
“No!” she cried, reaching for it in vain. She watched as the wind carried it farther and farther away. That was the one thing of Zach’s that she still had, and now it was gone! It was such a little thing, but she shed a tear over it anyway. She wiped it away and then closed her eyes tightly in frustration, trying to force herself to go to sleep. It didn’t work, and she stayed awake for much longer than she would have liked.
She sat up straighter in the tree, trying to get a more comfortable position, and she hugged her knees against her chest. She craned her head back to look up at the full moon in the starry night sky. She wondered if Zach was nearby and if she would ever see him again. She sighed and looked back down at the ground…
…sighing as he did so. Zach was never much for star-gazing, but right now, with the full moon in the sky and Abby still out there, the moon seemed to be his only real companion. He’d been staring at it for a minute or so, thinking about her, wondering if she was safe. He shook his head before he finally lay down on the ground and went to sleep.
Zach woke up in the morning annoyed by two things: the first thing was rain drops hitting him on the face, and the other was some little cloth that had been blown towards him and into his eye. He grabbed it and was about to toss it aside when he suddenly recognized it. Abby’s bandana! This had to be a sign that she was nearby! Surely they’d find her today! He smiled, but the smile died quickly when he noticed a slight discoloration on one half of the bandana: blood.
“No. No, no, please,” he whispered. Abby’s blood on her bandana. A lot of blood, likely from her head. Was she…could she be…
“It’s not right, it’s- it’s not-” he stammered. He was on his knees, clutching the bandana in his hand, holding it against his chest. He bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering, but to no avail. He closed his eyes so tight that he thought his eyelids would rip, but tears still flowed down his cheeks. Finally, he lost it.
“NOOOOOOO!” he cried, sobbing loudly, making animal-like noises in his despair. Everyone bolted awake and tried to ask Zach what was wrong. He could not answer, but instead held out his hand, showing them the bloody bandana.
“Oh my God,” Amber whispered. Zach was doubled-over on his knees, still crying bitterly. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against the back of his neck. Everyone else looked distressed. To think that Abby, poor, young, innocent Abby could be dead…it seemed too terrible to be true. But it had been 96 hours since she was taken away, and she did not have any food or water with her. And now this: her bloody bandana showing up in Zach’s h
and.
“Zach,” Amber whispered, “Abby might still be alive. This doesn’t necessarily prove anything.”
“Yeah, I mean we didn’t have time to do a thorough search yesterday,” Diane pointed out.
“Why don’t you guys look around for a few hours?” Amber said to Al, Ross, and Diane. “I’ll stay here with Zach. Maybe…maybe Abby will show up.” They all agreed to this and then set off in different directions. Meanwhile, Zach still sat on his knees, weeping softly like the rain that fell all around, as Amber held him in her arms.
Abby awoke to the pitter-patter of rain drops on her face. It was not raining hard yet, but she could hear thunder in the distance and assumed that it would head her way (such was her luck). She dropped down to the ground and resumed her southward trek, but the rain picked up quickly and within a half hour it came pouring down in sheets.
“What lovely weather,” Abby thought ruefully. She started to walk up a hill, but slipped on the grass and fell down, getting mud all over the front of her shirt, pants, and on her arms and face. She slammed her fist against the ground in frustration. She was hungry, sore, and lonely. She just wanted to be with Zach.
She walked back up the hill again, more carefully this time. Thunder boomed overhead and a bolt of lightning forked its way across the sky. The rain still poured down heavily, and Abby was starting to think about finding shelter until this storm blew over. She reached the top of the hill and put her hand over her eyes so she could look around, and what she saw below her made her gasp. Two figures were close by, both of them huddled together. Did she dare to hope?
“Zach?” Abby cried in a trembling voice, standing alone in the rain.
Zach started suddenly, as did Amber, when they heard a voice behind them. They looked and saw someone standing on top of the nearby hill. “Is…is that…” Amber started to say.
His Name Was Zach Page 13
