The closest thing I got an answer was from Molly. She used to bring me my bowl of water and sponge for my nightly bath. One night, we were flirting a little and I asked her out.
“Nothing fancy,” I said, “Just coffee, or maybe a couple of drinks and some sex.”
She comes back with, “Like that’s ever going to happen again,” and looks away all sad.
At first I thought she was just shooting me down, but something about the way she added the “again” and the look on her face told me that something real bad was going down out in the real world. Like whatever it was we came up against outside Bentonville was getting out of hand.
I stopped asking after that. Just went through the motions, let them poke and prod and interrogate all they wanted. Pretty soon I was only getting fed twice a day. Then most of the docs stopped showing up, then I only had one guard. Then almost everybody stopped coming. Except for Dr. Knowitall. The squirrelly fuck paces outside my door for a couple hours, comes in to ask some inane questions, then goes back to pacing the hall. I would be willing to bet that, whatever the hell is going on, he and I are the only ones left in this place. I know for a fact that he’s insane. And that he doesn’t know that I know he plans on killing me. In fact, I’ve made some, let’s call them travel arrangements, in which his attempt to shoot me will play a pretty important part on getting me underway. I just hope he tries to shoot me and doesn’t plan on letting me starve, or talking me to death.
Rev Mathis and the “Townies”
As per our usual routine, those keeping the last watch before dawn woke me up just as the sun came up. I went out into my garden and said my morning prayers. I added a special thanks for our new arrival. I felt that his presence meant that my original inclination was correct and that we were to begin going on the offensive against these foul things. I still didn’t understand my immunity but I felt its significance would be made clear at the right time. What I needed to do was to convince Daniel to help us. The “Townies” as they have begun calling themselves are a good hearted people. We haven’t let anyone in who we felt would be a threat to what little order we have maintained here. The downside to this is that we have no real offensive experience. We have been lucky that the few humans we have had to turn away were too tired and hungry to put up much of a fight. As for the dead, we have yet to face them in sufficient number to really test our defenses. Not that I wish us to be tested too thoroughly just yet. Though the time for that will come I suppose.
I have had to reconcile the Sixth Commandment for many of my new flock. As I said, they are a simple, good hearted people who, in life before this tragedy, lived small town lives. I have explained to them that I believe these poor, unfortunate beings to lack any semblance of humanity. That is, they may assume a human form as have demons in the past, however they lack the morality, the intelligence, and the compassion that makes a human being a human being. In short, they have no soul. To dispatch one of them is to merely put to rest a body that has forgotten how to die. This philosophy seems have assuaged a good deal of guilt among the Townies.
When we first managed to put up the wall the first thought was to let them congregate outside. It was believed that they lacked the strength to breach the wall. We found out too late that that was not true. One night, fifteen or so of them broke through the wall on the south side of town. Luckily, we had a patrol close by. They raised the alarm and we dispatched the ghouls rather hastily. After the incident, it was decided that whenever one of them was sighted, they would be eliminated immediately in the quickest, most humane method available. This usually means having one of our more experienced archers take care of them. We have a decent amount of ammunition for the guns we have, but it was decided that it would be better not to waste any of it. Noise was also a deciding factor.
Sightings have become less frequent as time has worn on, both of the living and of the dead. We live by routine here. We have several gardens tended to by those with a knack for growing vegetables. We have about a dozen men that can hunt the nearby woods. We have six wells within our walls. We have an eclectic mix of individuals with varied skills. Some farm, some hunt, some entertain. We even have a handful of nurses and a man that practiced medicine of a sort. A chiropractor, but beggars cannot be choosers. We have church on Sunday and anyone caught breaking one of our laws is dealt with swiftly, but fairly. The only thing we lacked was a warrior. Now he has been sent to us. I must convince him to train a force.
I believe this place could be our Canaan, our promised land. This town is an oasis of His light in a barren desert of the damned, a place for us to gather our forces and prepare for what will no doubt be a long journey toward returning to His grace.
I have tried very hard to not let my ego run rampant. I do not wish to see myself as some kind of modern day Moses, nor do I wish others to see me that way, but the analogy is kind of hard to ignore. I have been bitten, yet I have been spared the fate of so many others. I cannot be the only one. There must be others that share my immunity to whatever germ this is that causes those apparently dead to rise and consume flesh. I have prayed on the matter, but the answers have not been forthcoming.
For now, I will walk by faith as I have promised to do. I must convince Daniel of his part in this. He has stated that he was not an officer and is, in his own words, not equipped to train men to do more than dig latrines. I believe he could show us how to shoot at the very least. Perhaps teach us some basic military theories or some defense strategies better than those we have now. Perhaps that will be enough.
I continue to be perplexed by the boy, Max. He is a conundrum. He has been through trials that would break most grown men, yet he does not appear to be shell shocked in the least. Not to say he is not a little peculiar. His proclivity toward “hunting” the dead for example. He seems to see it as some sort of game, where he wishes to be the one with the high score. This could prove to be dangerous in the future. But maybe we can harness that. If there were some way I could get him together with Daniel. It would seem that the two of them share some kind of warriors bond that I do not quite understand. It would be unfathomably easier for me to work all this out had I someone to talk to other than to a journal. There is no person within the town that I can really trust with my innermost musings. They all see me as their leader, a role I fill reluctantly, and it would not do for morale for them to see me as having doubts. I must appear as wise as Solomon and as cunning as David.
Daniel
Fucking Reverend is really getting on my nerves… For almost as long as I have been here he keeps pussyfooting around asking me to “lead his men”. What the fuck is that shit?! I told him from the jump that I was just a PFC. A grunt. I am no more qualified to train troops than I am to teach calculus or a damn cooking class. Actually, I’m probably more qualified to teach a cooking class. I wish he would just ask already so I can shoot him down. I relented as far as showing them some basic rifle marksmanship. There’s a fairly decent selection of weapons around here, a lot of hunting rifles and a shitload of good old American handguns in various calibers. We kept live-fire stuff to a minimum to conserve ammo, but most of these guys have a good grasp on which end the bullets come out of. It is damn hard to hit a moving target, especially one as small as a human head. Luckily, these things aren’t too fast.
And then there’s the kid. I hate to say it, but I love that little bastard. Reminds me of a kid from my neighborhood growing up. That little fucker was batshit crazy, but he had absolutely no fear. We used to play a game down by the train tracks. You’d run out in front of the train as it came over this one hill. The one that got the closest, without getting nailed of course, won. Ricky would come tear-assing from out of the trees so the driver wouldn’t have time to brake and he would run so close that he could have stolen the fucking conductor’s hat if he stuck his arm out.
I wonder where he is now. Ricky, not the conductor, I am relatively sure that guy’s dead, maybe he’s out there right now gnawing on a femur. But Ricky,
that kid was tough. I know he spent a few years in prison for assault, but I have no idea what happened after that. I figure it doesn’t mean shit anyway. Not right now.
Fucking things breached the wall again. We spent the last three months fixing the damn thing and it only took six of them to tear a hole in it. They hit the outer trip wire but the damn alarm never went off. Fucking batteries. Some old lady went out to pull up some carrots and there they were. Half a dozen of them milling around just inside the perimeter. Well her screaming did what the alarm should have. It went off like clockwork after that. The four nearest guards were on the scene ricky-tick and took out the moaners with only ten shots. We got the collapsed section back up and burned the bodies just outside the wall. I don’t understand why we waste the fuel burning them, but the Rev says it’s a purification rite. Whatever. At least they don’t get back up. And let me tell you something. If you think they stink when there dragging around, get a whiff of them when they’re on fire. I would rather burn latrines. After the incident, I talked to the Rev about finding better digs. That conversation got heated pretty quick. I tried to explain that we only have so much scrap around here and it wont be long before it’s not moaners we’re dealing with, but a trained unit of real live men. With better guns than us. If that happens we’re toast. The lucky ones will get slaughtered. God knows what will happen to the rest. We need a fort, or a prison, or one those missile silos out west. Fucking A, that would be awesome.
Jessica
I still don’t understand how it happened. I was walking down the street to get to my next required meeting with Vincent and I was bitten. I was so far behind the line that it never occurred to me that I should be on alert for danger. At least not this kind of danger. Without even thinking, I stabbed the thing through the eye with my grandfather’s pen. It was over in a matter of seconds, but in those precious seconds I knew my life was over. No one gets bitten and lives. Vincent was going to have me shot.
His men saw it happen. There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to deny it, or hide from it. Not that the option to hide it was ever really there. The sickness sets in so fast, once infected your body shuts down. They swooped over and half of the men dragged me towards Vincent’s office as the other half took the dead body to the fire pit. Sadly, I wasn’t upset that this was to be my end. Each day I spent behind the line I felt as if I was dying anyway. It was a joyless existence. I wanted more than survival. I wanted to thrive, to feel alive. There had to be more to life than this, even as the world crumbles around us, and I preferred the thought of death by gunshot to one more day in this prison.
The men threw me down on the floor in front of Vincent’s desk. “She’s been bitten. Ten minutes ago, on the street two blocks from here. I don’t know how one got past our lines,” mumbled the oldest one in the group.
“Find the breach, and report back to me. Get everyone on it, even those who are off shift. This is the only thing that matters until the answer is found.”
“And her?”
“Leave her with me. She has hours before she turns, and I need to have her assemble the writing she has done before that happens.” He sighed, “Go. Find our weakness, and fix it. No mistakes with this boys. All we need is one in here, and it all goes to hell again.”
Once the men the left, Vincent sat and stared at me for a few minutes. His face never really betrays what he is feeling. It is one of the things that makes me so nervous about him. Normally, when someone speaks to you their intention is written across their face. With Vincent it is just a blank, cold stare. He finally let out a deep breath that I didn’t realize he had been holding in.
“I am sorry I didn’t keep you safe Jessica. You have become very important to me, and I will miss you when you are gone. I feel like I have failed you.” He said all of this, but his face read otherwise. He still looked cold and blank.
“You have not failed Vincent. These are impossible times.” I don’t know why I lied then. Why would I still fear a man who I knew was going to have me killed in a matter of hours. A death that I believed I was looking forward to.
The politician’s smile crept its way across his mask of a face. “You are too kind Jessie. Shall we go gather the writing now?”
“Of course. Everything is in my home.”
We walked silently back to my house. I was lucky enough to be able to keep my home through the takeover. Many were told that their homes were needed for this purpose or that, but in the end the best properties were being scooped up by Vincent’s cronies. I already told you what happens when you disagree with the current management. No one fought being relocated; actually, no one fought anything anymore. It was as if we had become zombies in our own right.
As I packed up the pages of the Vincent’s biography, it hit me. Even though I was unhappy, I didn’t want to die. I just wanted to escape. Being bitten changed all of that. I wouldn’t have the chance. Never would I live free again. My destiny was to die at the hands of a madman in a prison that I had agreed to stay in. As I picked up the papers, the weight of reality pressed deep into my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Panic set in, and I was hyperventilating. Vincent watched me with his lifeless face. There was no concern, I was just another pawn to be used and discarded. A good leader cares for his people. To Vincent we are nothing.
I finished gathering what he wanted, and managed to pull myself back together. If this was to be my end, I would get there with my dignity intact. It was at this point that I figured out I had nothing left to lose. “May I go sit and watch the waves for a while? I know my end is coming, but I’d like to see something beautiful before I die.”
“Of course. You will have to be escorted by one of the men. As soon as you show signs of sickness Jessie we will have to end your time with us. You can sit there as long as you wish, but don’t try to run away from your guard. You will be shot.” He said all of this in the most matter of fact tone I have ever heard. Speaking of shooting me like it was just one of those things you do on a normal day. I guess this is the new normal, but his lack of emotion left me cold inside.
Vincent took the writing with him and assigned a man to watch me on the beach. Rummaging through the shed below my house I found a few shovels and pails in a beach bag, and a beach chair. The toys were there for my brothers children. My parents made sure our home always had enough beach toys to build a sand city. Loading myself up with all of this leisure gear was comforting. Fall was here, and a cold wind blew gently across the dunes. It was a perfect day.
I spent the next few hours digging and shaping the sand into castles and buildings. Once bored with those designs I moved on to more creative expressions. By the time I had tired myself out there was a zoo’s worth of animals on the shoreline. Hippos, turtles, lions, tigers and alligators sculpted carefully, lounging in the afternoon sun. Exhausted from hours of digging, I relaxed lazily in my chair with my feet buried in the cool sand.
“How do you feel?” Tim the guard asked in a worried voice.
When we first arrived at the beach I could feel his stare beating against my skin, his anxiety of the sickness that was going to overtake me was palpable. As the hours passed his fear grew, but I lost in my building had barely noticed his presence.
“I feel fantastic Tim. I expect it should happen soon, so I am just going to sit here and think. Would you like to join me as I wait for the inevitable?”
He didn’t have a chance to answer before Vincent was made his way out to us with two of his men. I had seen these men before, and avoided them at all costs. Vincent didn’t recruit his personal guard by picking the men with the best qualities; instead he looked for those that the others would fear. If I had to guess I would say that both of these men had spent time in prison. They both towered over Vincent who was easily 6’ 2”, and they looked like two brick walls of muscle. Tim jumped at the sight of them.
The brick wall brothers never talked. Vincent was the brains and they were the brawn. “How is my girl feeling?”
His
girl? What the hell was that supposed to mean? That man was infuriating. Calling me his girl as if he wasn’t about to have me exterminated. Sighing I resigned to fact that none of this exchange matter. My clock had run out of time, and the end was finally here. Scanning my creatures and buildings one last time, I began to pack up my stuff.
“She has been busy in the sand all day. Hasn’t shown any sign of sickness at all. It wasn’t until a minute ago that she finally put the shovels down to rest and watch the ocean.” Tim reported uneasily.
“Hmm.” Vincent’s face was still unreadable, “It has been hours, she should have spiked a fever by now. Jessie? Do you feel sick at all?”
“No.” I answered carefully.
“Then finish packing up. We are going to move you to a building for quarantine. Tim you can take off. You’re off duty for today. I better not find out that you discuss any of this with anyone. There will be consequences for you if this gets around. We don’t know anything yet and I do not want the rumors to start flying.”
With that Tim practically ran off the beach. Very few liked to be in Vincent’s company for more than a few seconds. The longer he was with you the more likely you were to be put to death. No one was going to know what had happened to me. Not until Vincent wanted them to. There was no mistaking the fact that I was still a prisoner. My two oversized guards led me to a small room in what used to be a library.
Vincent followed me in to the makeshift cell. “Are you hungry Jessie? I want you to be comfortable in here while we wait to see how you fare. I don’t want to get my hopes up yet, but maybe, just maybe you really are my girl. I am sure I am not the only one in the world that is immune if humans have a chance to survive this. There must be a woman, too. The fates have destined me to be the ruler of what is left after all the pieces fall. They must have seen to it that I would have an heir. A child born from two parents with immunity would be the next step in our evolution. Now all we have to do is wait. Time will tell if that woman is you.”
Aftershock Zombie Series (Book 1): Aftershock (A Collection of Survivors Tales) Page 10
