by catt dahman
Chapter 14
Plan Z
The plan worked in stages.
First, Jerico, Brandon, and Curt used the tombs beneath the stage to appear in a closet-sized area right off the front vestibule. They immediately cleared the way to the auditorium doors but left them closed.
We stood there inside the auditorium, waiting while the boys put down a few zombies and got the front doors unlocked.
Once they opened them wide, all three dove back into the closet door and made sure it was secure. That was the first part, and it went as planned.
Later, they said that opening the door was terrifying: the creatures were waiting and moaning when they opened the doors. It was something to be right there and be able to see the way out but to have it blocked by the walking dead.
Lance gave the call as he leaned down into the open area on the stage. As soon as Brandon, Curt, and Jerico were past, Lance told us we could go to the second stage.
I was so glad that the first part went as we had planned; had the plan failed, I would have been blamed.
Nick and I opened the auditorium doors and called for the creatures.
The things came from outside and through the front doors, and they came from deep within the school from a place we had never found. Lurching and moaning, they streamed into the auditorium.
The three of us climbed down into the hatch on the stage and hoped they couldn’t find the way in, at least for a few minutes. Calling them to us was scary. What if we hadn’t had an escape? Or what if the way had been closed and we were left to the zombies?
We had checked and rechecked the tombs to be sure they were free of rubble and not filled with ghouls, but with only the candle light throwing weird and frightening shadows, it was scary as hell to be running up the dark, narrow staircase to the top of the auditorium.
“Open,” I called out, pounding on the doorway. For a second I was afraid they wouldn’t open the door and we’d be trapped here, like being buried alive. My chest tightened. I felt as if I might hyperventilate.
We almost fell into their arms as the door opened.
Curt chuckled, “We had it. Jeez, it’s okay.”
“It’s creepy down there,” Nick said as way of explanation.
“Yup, it is, “Jerico admitted. They had thrown junk down the last way up so the ghouls were far below us, gathering about the stage where we had turned on a battery-operated tape player and some stupid music in French. The things were worked up into a frenzy, looking for fresh meat and running into one another as they stumbled.
“They stink. Look at how stupid they are.” Brandon watched them, below.
“They’re stupid; they blunder around and fall down. They can’t do anything but shamble around and look for food. Those things aren’t us,” Jerico talked to himself. “We don’t become them. They are something else…abominations….”
“It’s hard to pity them.”
“I hate them. I don’t have pity for ‘em. They’re evil. Once you get infected, it’s just evil; I want all of them to die again.”
“Maybe they will,” I said to the rest, “okay, stage three?”
Curt ran to the doors. “The back is clear, and the rest are still going around the side. The moaning is calling the rest of them, and I can see several from far away heading that way. It’s working.”
“You did good, ‘Rissy,” Jerico said.
“Packs on and get ready,” I said.
“You can’t leave us,” Mrs. Smith said, “you led them in here. How can you leave us?”
“You have to climb out. You can have our help if you go now, but if you wait for even a few minutes, then we’ll be gone,” Lance said.
“We aren’t going down there,” Mrs. Smith said.
“And we aren’t staying,” Lance said.
We gathered in the back room.
Brandon and Curt went first so they could protect everyone who was leaving. Lance went down, carrying one of the little girls, and Sian followed, carrying the other one. Bev, Marshall, and I climbed down the rope. Miss Carter and Ruby tried, but Miss Crater fell most of the way, screaming.
“Shhhh,” I warned her, “be quiet, or they’ll come.”
Peripherally, I saw that Brandon and the rest had put their bats, along with other weapons, in slings on their backs. I told Miss Crater she had to stop screaming and moaning even if she were in pain.
Her ankle was already puffing up.
Nick and Jerico landed beside of us, and Jerico ran his hands over his hair and paced before kicking Miss Crater. “Shut up,” he hissed.
Above, Mona and Mrs. Smith watched. They had the bombs that Bev and Marshall made that were ready to be set off and burn the entire school. They had to decide when there were enough or too many zombies in the auditorium and when it was time to roast them. The pair might wait a while: they had food and water and were safe for a while.
They could decide their own fate but wouldn’t be going with the rest.
“Shut her up,” Brandon demanded.
“Miss Crater, be quiet.” I looked at her ankle, but as soon as I touched the swollen flesh, she made a loud yipping noise, and in response, a ghoul curiously came around the corner and moaned at us as it saw us.
“This is bad,” Bev said, waving her hands, “we’re supposed to be quiet.”
Jerico kicked her again, and she yelped.
“Stop making her scream,” I demanded, “knock it off.”
Another ghoul crept around the side.
Brandon waved at Jerico and Curt to handle them, and he took his ax and hit Miss Crater in her neck. She gurgled for a second until he hit her a few more times, silencing her for good. With an open jaw, I stared. I had just witnessed murder, plain and simple.
Nick had a terrible look on his face, as if he had just seen what his brother was capable of. A wash of pain and regret followed. I rubbed his shoulder and set my face against his back for a second, hating that Nick had to see the facts this way.
Bev had turned her sisters’ faces against her so they didn’t see.
The other two boys had both zombies on the ground and had finished them.
We had total quiet again. Adjusting our packs and bats, we got our bearings and made motions to communicate silently.
We didn’t have a big plan from here forward.
I wanted to run away from Brandon and the others and hang out with people who were not insane.
Lance placed his fingers to his lips to remind us to stay quiet. He carried Nivon piggyback as we ran across the schoolyard to the playground, hiding behind the slide and teeter-totter before we ran into the woods.
Standing behind trees, we stopped to catch our breath and to see if we had anything following us.
Looking out of the window, Mona and Mrs. Smith watched us scamper into the woods. I wondered how long they would stay there or what they would do. I wondered if they were the smarter ones for staying where it was safe.
We had been in the school when everything started and were somewhat insulated. We didn’t know what horrors everyone else had faced or what was out there awaiting us; maybe that was better.
Following Curt, we stayed at the edge of the woods where we had several hiding places. He cocked his head as we came to a dirt road.
The woods went on past it, but he said we should go up to the Duncan’s house and get supplies and then stay for the night. None of us had slept well the night before, and now we were tired.
Just like that, the plan to separate and go our own way was tossed to one side as we stayed in the group, watching out for one another.
Maybe in the morning, we could make a break for it.
Inside, the house was empty, but we could tell that Mrs. Duncan had hastily gathered a few things and headed out since her SUV was gone. Despite close proximity to the school, the dirt road didn’t lead directly to the school parking lot but led to a rutted, bumpy road that led to the school; the road was empty.
“Maybe she went to the cou
rthouse with everyone else. Mrs. Smith said that’s what everyone was told to do. So, let’s assume she went there,” Bev said.
“Her daughter was on the school bus, wasn’t she? She was a first grader? Damn,” Lance said.
“Let’s secure things so we’re safe, okay?” Jerico said.
We began blocking windows and doors, staying as quiet as possible while we worked.
As they worked, I claimed I needed something for a headache and an upset stomach so I could sneak away alone for a few minutes. It was just a hunch, and I didn’t think for a second I could get so lucky, but when I went into the master bedroom and closed the door, I found what I had hoped for in the drawer beside Mr. Duncan’s side of the bed.
I had done some practice shooting with my dad and wasn’t a gun expert by any means, but I knew my way around a revolver: a .38 and loaded. I had to hurry so I didn’t get to look it over very well. I just shoved it in my cargo pants pocket, along with the box of bullets in the other pocket.
“’Rissy?”
“Yeh, Jer?” I turned, having just stood and stationed myself in front of a family photograph on the wall. “Sorry, I guess I was wool-gathering.”
“Just making sure you’re okay,” he said. He looked at the picture and then went through both side tables. I held my breath, hoping a lone bullet wouldn’t give me away but preparing a story to cover what I had done just in case. He motioned to the bathroom that was en suite.
“You get something?”
“No, I was in a daze.” I walked over and got something for my headache and then a plastic bottle of nasty-tasting stuff for a pretend, upset stomach. “How does it look?”
“Good. We’re safe, I think, but we’ll keep a guard.”
“That makes sense.”
“You sick?”
“A headache and my stomach feels weird, but it’s passing. Maybe the excitement or the smell of the things or Miss Crater’s breaking her ankle at the last minute made me sick. That sucked.”
“Rissy? You’re an important part of our group, and I just want you to know that you are a good fighter and smart, and you never whine. I know that I can count on you.”
“Thanks, Jerico. I appreciate that. I’m glad we’re friends.” I
recalled Shanna’s warnings and thought Jerico was hedging another alliance, just in case he needed one. I thought of him like a person would think of a smushed, poisonous spider on the sole of a shoe.
He revolted me. But I still smiled.
“I got your back,” he said as he smiled.
“Going to see what I can do to help.” I moved to the door. I smiled at Jerico and gave him a wave. He saw me as a friend and valuable and part of the team and capable. I saw him as a dangerous enemy that I had to keep close.
I was smarter than he thought.
I had to be.
Chapter 1 5
Traveling
The Duncan’s house had a gas stove, and that meant a lot to us.
We cooked macaroni and cheese and spaghetti and sauce, snacked on chips and salsa, and drank Cokes until we almost popped. It was easy-to-fix junk food, but we loved it, and it helped us emotionally as well as filled our bellies.
Bev and I heated water: we bathed her sisters, and then we bathed. Warm water and soap did wonders; in fact, I couldn’t believe how much I stunk, but after we ate some food, we almost felt human again.
In the master bedroom, I flopped in the king-sized bed with Bev, Nivon, and Ravon. Lance cuddled for a while, much like a dog trying to rout out a sleeping space with his owners, making Bev and me giggle. He knew no limits and was just an overgrown little kid in many ways.
The circumstances were horrible, but I was glad Bev and I got to know him better and had found that he was a great person. Nick curled up in the recliner, watchful of me, I thought; also, I was glad I had gotten to know him. He was an amazing young man who never would have dated me before the creatures came, but it was way too late to worry about things such as that. He kissed me goodnight, and I thought he, too, smelled a lot better after his bath.
Because it was raining the next day, we slept late, letting the soft- sounding rain lull us; we didn’t get up as planned; and we didn’t leave as soon as we should have. It was the best night’s sleep we had had in a while, and no one had stood guard duty.
Ruby asked Bev for the water after Bev and I had bathed.
Are you okay?”
“I’ll never be okay. I believe my family is dead and that everything else is ruined. Those boys, they took away something from me. If I get the chance, I will kill them,” she said quietly.
Bev just shrugged.
After finding some old camping equipment, Curt also supervised packing food, weapons, and water and suggested other items we might use.
Again the next morning, we stayed at the edge of the woods. We found only one shambler, and Brandon went after him with the ax As Brandon swung the ax, he caught Curt in the arm; luckily, it was Brandon’s first swing, so the ax was not covered in infected blood, yet.
Brandon finished the ghoul while Bev and I examined Curt’s arm.
A deep gash was opened in the side of his forearm where there was a lot of flesh and muscle.
In an apology, Brandon handed him a couple of bandanas, but Curt struggled to get the cloths on his arm.
Bev helped him by putting one bandana down as a pad, wrapping the second bandana around the wound, and finally tying it in place.
“You have to have stitches. I can sew them, but the stitching will hurt you, and it will not be pretty; however, it will do the job. We will need to stitch it very soon.”
“Okay.”
“It really hurts.” Curt dug out painkillers he had gotten from the Duncan’s medicine cabinet and swallowed them with a sports drink.
“I didn’t mean to,” Brandon said, “you’re bleeding hard.”
“No shit, retard.”
“Let’s see what are in those places,” Jerico said. He pointed to four houses nestled together along another dirt road. “Maybe we can get Curt sewn up, too.”
“Isn’t that like breaking and entering and theft?” Marshall asked.
I wanted to slap him. Had he missed the part about rape and murder back at the school? If he vomited again, he might be the one who became the next outcast and left behind or put down.
As it was, I gave him a warning glance and hoped he understood to shut up.
“Yeah, cool,” Curt said.
At the first house, we crept behind Curt, who opened the door and listened for moaning.
An explosion filled my ears, and I instinctively ducked down as Curt spun, his stomach and chest an open mess of organs; blood had splattered everything.
“Lance?” That you?”
“Mr. Chase. It’s me, Lance. Nick, too.” Lance stood, his hands in the air.
“Oh, are you okay? Get in here. Who the hell was that? Curtis Walling? Is that him? Oh, my.”
Lance went inside, motioning for us to follow. He helped Mr. Chase to sit down. “We came from the school.”
“You’ve been here all this time?”
“Yes, sir. We had some food supplies, we fought those things, but we finally had to leave. The school is overrun with them,” Lance explained.
His grandfather and Mr. Chase were friends. The old man, some of the time, went with Lance’s grandpa to watch the boys play baseball, and he liked seeing Lance and Nick on the field.
“Oh, what did I do? I thought he was one of them things. The blood….”
Curt opened the door first, and Mr. Chase had seen the pale boy covered in blood, kind of hunched over. No wonder he thought Curt was one of them.
“It was an accident,” Brandon said, “but even if you hadn’t thought it was one of the zombies, you saw Curt Walling breaking in….”
“You shoot him?” Jerico asked. “/howdy, Mr. Chase.”
“Oh, Jerico, Brandon, you are good boys to come check on me.
Bless your hearts, but that
was good of you. Was Curtis causing you trouble? Good for nothing, trash family.
Come on out,” Mr. Chase called to the rest in the house to come out now that it was safe. His wife was there, and so was his daughter-in-law, Donna. She said her husband, Bill, had gone to town to get information.
“You shot him?”
“Curtis Walling, I thought he was breaking in or was one of them things,” Mr. Chase said. “Them boys came to check on us. Good boys here.”
“And Bill is gone?” Lance asked.
“He ain’t come back, Lance. Why? What do you think might be happening there?” Mrs. Chase asked.
“I dunno. Maybe they are taking people in and won’t let him leave. I bet that’s it. He’s probably fine. Why didn’t you go to the courthouse?”
“Boy, don’t you have sense? I don’t trust them one bit. You remember New Orleans? Them FEMA stations? Not gonna put me in one of them death trap camps. They left all you kids out there in the school. My goodness.”
“Let’s get you boys settled for a spell,” Mrs. Chase said. “Who are you? Marshall? You play ball, don’t you? Doesn’t he, Will?”
Mr. Chase nodded, “He does. He can hit in a pinch. His dad comes from good stock, but his mamma is from the city, kind of a snotty thing, acts like she’s better than the rest.”
His daughter-in-law blushed. “Dad.”
Marshall blushed, too.
“Well, it’s true,” Mr. Chase said.
“Hush, now,” his wife warned.
“Cute little gals. Who are they?” Mr. Chase asked next.
“RaVon and that’s Nivon: Bev’s sisters.”
“What are they doing with nigger names?”
“Look, that’s just rude.” Bevvon stepped up, her face red with embarrassment and anger. “They’re little girls, and we didn’t pick our names.”
“Bevvon Colder? Yeh…trailer trash…gotta a sister dances at a coochie club and takes off her clothes.”
“For shame,” Mrs. Chase said, clucking.
Brandon and Jerico snickered.
“Bev is a good girl,” Lance politely told the man.
He asked Brandon and Jerico to help him remove Curt’s body and clean up the blood.
“We’ll stand outside,” Bev said as she and her sisters stepped back to the yard.
