Tap, Tap, Tap. Wayne used the tip of his gun to arise any “sleeping” zombies. We all stand there waiting for the ten count of no movement. Once that happens the door is pushed open. Locked doors don’t really seem to exist anymore, unless there is someone behind it. Most people make such fast getaways from wherever they may be that they forget to lock up on the way out. All but two of us filed into the store flanking the edges. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, find anything useful, then get the hell out of there.
Same old shit. There was nothing left in this place that wasn’t destroyed. Perishables perished. All the long term pantry stuff had walked its way out the door already. We did a courtesy loop, found nothing, then filed back out. Four more times we made this same move. By the last store I was over it. I signaled Neil that I wanted to take his spot outside to guard. That Neil was a good guy. He never asked why, just shook his head and walked in. So there I stood outside waiting for Jim to decide enough is enough and maybe let us get moving again. At this pace years will pass before we get there.
Two shots rang out from in the store. Every instinct I had told me to go inside and see if they needed help, but that wasn’t my job. Standing guard sucked in times like this. You couldn’t leave your post. The noise may draw in the dead and someone has to be there to stop them. All I could do was hope that it was us killing someone, not someone killing us. Sounds of a struggle came from inside the store. Just when I thought that the curiosity would kill me, the group poured out the front door.
I took a quick head count. Ten were there, but something wasn’t quite right. I scanned the group and Neil wasn’t among them. Damn it, I knew this was a bad idea. We somehow lost Neil in that store and gained what looked like an elderly woman. No one talked on our way back to the trucks. When we arrived Wayne made his way over to Emma. If I had to pick one reason to not be in charge, it would be the job that Wayne has every time we lose someone. He has to tell the families. I don’t envy that task.
Emma collapsed in Garrett’s arms. It was decided that we would camp here tonight, and allow Emma some time to grieve. Really I think we just stuck around because we aren’t really in a hurry to get anywhere. I managed to get some time to talk to Wayne. His face has aged so much in the time I have known him. It makes me wonder if all this sticking together is worth it.
Ian & William
I almost lost the kid in Virginia, somewhere near Marshall according to the map. Rolling through some town or another, we were looking for food and water, Mars bars and Snoballs, nothing new. This place was different. It still looked like shit, don’t get me wrong, but almost likes somebody had tried a little too hard to leave it looking like shit if that makes sense. William was his usual quiet self as we moved slowly down the main street looking for a food store with the windows intact. This town didn’t look too bad, not like some of the places we had been through. Most of the buildings still had glass and doors and the streets weren’t littered with half-eaten bodies. That’s why my ass was up, as my sarge would have said. Not up high enough though.
I came around a blind turn and right before it would have been too late, I spotted a thin wire strung about a foot high across the road. The Jeep skidded to a stop just resting against it. Another inch and it would have thrown whatever trigger it was tied to. I dropped the Jeep into reverse but before I let the clutch up, a van shot from an alley and crashed into a pole behind us.
“Fuck! William get down!” I screamed and grabbed his head and shoved him, a little too rough, down to the floor. I popped the clutch and the Jeep slammed into the van just as the driver’s door started to open. I heard a startled cry over the crunch of metal.
I only had one shot to get us out of here alive. I had to hope that whatever the hell was tied to the other end of that wire wasn’t big enough or fast enough to take us out. I shifted into first gear and bucked forward. The wire snapped as the Jeep snapped through it. At first there was nothing, no explosion, no popping tires, nada. I never let off the gas, not wanting to wait around to see if whatever the booby trap was had just misfired. We made it maybe ten feet before the gunfire started to follow us. It started coming out of the second floor windows of two stores simultaneously. One store was behind us by three buildings, or at least that’s what it looked like before a shot took out my side mirror. The other building was at the end of the street, right in the middle of the T intersection formed by the end of the street I was currently tearing east on, and the one I was planning to tear north on in a hundred yards. It was a damn near perfect firing line.
Three men moved out of the alley the van had come from with carbines trained on the Jeep, two more came from around the half-crushed vehicle with hunting rifles. I floored the gas and the Jeep threatened to stall out right there. It was at that moment that whatever delay their little trap had ran out. Only I don’t think the delay was intentional. I guess we all thought it was a dud, because two big sedans came crashing down from the top of buildings on either side of the street, right on top of the three from the alley. Damned messy way to go.
Two rounds punched through the windshield half a second later. Then two more hit the hood and another went through the radiator. We weren’t going to get much further in this vehicle but hopefully it would at least get us the fuck out of here.
I took the left at the end of the street way too fast and put the Jeep up on two wheels. We kept taking fire the whole time but the guy up in the window seemed to be the only one who knew what he was doing. A round hit the passenger seat right where William’s head would have been had he not been cowering on the floor. Though I wouldn’t say “cowering”, from what I could tell he was just sitting there not reacting at all to being shot at. He didn’t look happy about being jostled around, but he didn’t look scared either. Another right turn and we would be out of immediate danger, or at least I hoped so. The Jeep was making some very bad noises and I knew that if we had to beat feet we were toast.
One more round took out the back left tire and that was it. I fought to keep the Jeep from rolling and crashed into a burnt out wreck on the curb.
“Don’t fucking move William! Stay here and don’t move!” I screamed throwing open the door, grabbing my M-4 and rolling out behind the wreck. With any luck they hadn’t seen William and would only be looking for me. I had no idea how many there would be but it wouldn’t be long before I found out.
Two men in jeans and camo t-shirts came around the corner making nice, high targets of themselves. I hit the one in the lead dead in the chest. It was kind of nice to be able to aim center mass again after always having to make headshots. He went sprawling forward and his partner almost tripped. I took the opportunity to fire two shots and caught him in the shin and the hip. Down he went screaming. I rolled right to get a better look at who else was coming. Didn’t see anyone so I decided to advance to the next vehicle. I wanted as much ground as possible between me and the Jeep, between them and William.
Four more guys were coming up the street, moving a bit more cautiously this time. Two civilian hunting rifles, one AR-15, and a .45. Dumb bastard didn’t realize that a hand gun, even a nice big .45 was almost useless in this situation. They hadn’t seen me yet. They were looking at their buddies lying in the street. I sighted the one with the AR and was about to squeeze the trigger when a hot stream of air whipped past my left ear. Fucking sniper! My friend from the window no doubt. I dropped and rolled left under the car. I took a couple pot shots at the feet of the men on the street as they gave up stealth and ran toward my position. I caught one in the ankle and when he hit the ground I put two rounds into the side of his face.
I was pretty well fucked and I knew it. Even if I managed to take out the other three coming at me, I still had at least one sniper and who knew how many others that may be waiting for me to poke my head out. I could only hope they hadn’t seen William and that he would be smart enough to wait for them to finish with me before trying to get away.
No way in hell I was going to die
with a full magazine anyway. I rolled backward and hugged the wreck as tight as I was hoping that the sniper wouldn’t be able to get a bead on me. I moved around the back of the car with my weapon up and started firing. Two more went down with little red holes in their chests before they even realized that I wasn’t under the car anymore. The sniper took at least three more shots at me but hit nothing but pavement. I could feel the little chips of stone cut through right leg of my pants and bury themselves, burning, in my calf.
Mr .45 dropped his weapon, threw up his hands, and ran back the other way. That left my friend upstairs.
I booked it across the street trying to make a small target. I was starting to think our luck had turned when the door to the building I was headed for flew open and I caught the butt of a shotgun right between the eyes. I was out before I hit the ground. As I fell I saw some huge thug dragging William out of the Jeep by the back of the neck. Then it was just black.
I came to with my feet tied to a desk chair and my hands cuffed, or at least tied tight behind my back. My head was throbbing and everything was blurry, but at least I was still alive. I tried to swing my head around, to get the layout of the room and hopefully catch a glimpse of William. They better not have hurt him… ‘Course I’m going to have to figure out how to get the hell out this chair before I can go around making any threats.
The room was small, grimy, basically square, and it smelled like shit. I don’t mean it stank, I mean it smelled like someone had been using it for a latrine for a while now. There was no way I was going to be able to wiggle out of these ropes to find out if the door was locked. I thought about trying to smash the chair against the floor, but the frame felt like steel. My scheming was interrupted by the door bursting inward hard enough to almost take it off the frame.
“You son of a BITCH!”
The short, squat guy who offered the greeting followed it with a wild haymaker swung that caught me on the left cheek and sent me and the chair to the floor. I smacked my head hard enough to almost get knocked out again. An arm snaked under me and set me upright again.
“You’re gonna pay for what you did to my boys out there you mother fucker!”
He punctuated the statement with another shot in the face. I felt my lip splint against my teeth and my mouth filled with blood.
“You fired first asshole,” at least that what I tried to say. Even I couldn’t understand what came out of my mouth.
“No use begging fucker. I’m gonna make you suffer. Make you fucking beg for me to kill you.”
The blows started again. The face, the ribs, the stomach. No real technique, just a lot of anger and ham-sized fists. Doesn’t mean it hurt any less. I don’t really know how long the beating lasted. I know I almost went under a couple of times and he had to stop to catch his breath once or twice.
By the time he was done my eyes had swollen almost completely shut, at least four of my teeth were either busted or knocked out completely, and I was pretty sure my jaw was broken.
I sat there, head throbbing, every breath stinging in my chest, waiting for whatever this asshole had planned next. He was wrong on one count, no way was I going to beg him for anything. I had a brief moment to wonder about William again. I offered a silent apology to no one in particular for dragging him into this. I thought I was helping, but apparently not. I had no idea what the hell they were doing to him, if they were sick enough to torture a retarded kid or not. Those kind of rules went out the window a long time ago I guess. The only thing I knew for sure was that if I got even the slightest opportunity to get out of this chair, I was going to take it.
Fat Bastard gave me one last hard slap in the face that left my ears ringing and walked out of the room. I listened to hear the click of a lock but didn’t. I guess he figured I was beaten half to death and handcuffed to a chair, why bother locking the door. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
All I had to do was not pass out, then somehow manage to get out of these fucking cuffs, then somehow get the drop on Fat Bastard even though I could barely see. Shouldn’t be too hard…
William
The room is dark. I do not like the dark. I am not afraid of the dark, Father says a grown boy should not be afraid of the dark. I still do not like the dark. Earlier, I heard Ian’s voice through the wall. Then I heard sounds like thump, thump, thump and grunting. At least I know Ian is here. He seems like a good person even though he swears too much. Father says that people swear when they cannot think of something intelligent to say. Ian seems to be very intelligent though. He knows a lot about fighting and shooting and war. Those are good thing to know now.
I do not know who grabbed me outside, but he was very rude. I told him so and he pushed me down and told me to shut up. I cut my hand on the ground and it hurt, but I did not cry. Father says that grown boys do not cry either. I think Father would like Ian if they ever met. I wonder if Ian drinks scotch like Father did. This room is also cold, much colder than it was outside. I hope that Ian comes in soon, he has a flashlight in his pocket. I am not afraid of the dark, but I do not like it and it would be nice to have a flashlight like Ian’s.
The rude man shoved me into this room and pulled handcuffs out of his pocket. I stared at him the whole time. Father says it is rude to stare, but I get confused sometimes about why people do certain things and it is hard for me not to stare. He seemed to change his mind and put the handcuffs back in his pocket and left. He did lock the door after he closed it. Then the light went out and the room was dark. Then I heard Ian’s voice and the thumping. That went on for a while then everything was quiet. I like it when things are quiet, but I do not like the dark. I decided to sit on the floor and wait for Ian.
I wish I had a flashlight.
Ian
At some point I passed out again. I woke up to Fat Bastard sitting in a chair across the room from me just staring. My head was still throbbing, but at least I could see again. I guessed my jaw wasn’t broken either because I could clench it without too much pain, other than the broken teeth. I still hurt to breath too, but at least I was still breathing. I felt hungry too, which was odd, but a good sign.
“Can I get some water?” I figured it was worth a shot, worst thing he could do would be to tell me no, and then beat the shit of me some more.
“Don’t got none,” Fat Bastard replied, lying. I know they got at least six gallons out of the Jeep, but I wasn’t in a position to argue. I tried to shrug my shoulders, both to see if I could and to make it look like I didn’t care. I hoped he bought it.
“You killed seven of my men and broke Jimmy’s wrist. I’m gonna kill you eventually, just thought you should know why.”
Again, not being in a position to argue I didn’t point out that his guys attacked us first. I wanted to ask where William was, but a big part of me didn’t want an answer to that question.
“So what happens next?” I asked making direct eye contact. I guess I was hoping that being bold was the way to go here. My Granddad always said that people who thought it couldn’t get any worse usually found out pretty damn quick how it could. I figured, worst case scenario, he could beat me for a few hours before I passed out, maybe a few days before he killed me, what did I have to lose.
He spit right in my face and slapped me against the side of the head hard to make my ears start ringing again.
“What happens next is I think I’m gonna wail on you some more, maybe knock out the rest of your teeth, than I’m gonna go and have some fun with your half-wit, little friend.”
That’s when I lost my poker face. And Fat Bastard saw it. He fell on me with his fists again. My already tenderized face split open as he pummeled me. Pretty soon my eyes had swollen shut again and we were right where we were yesterday. He just kept swinging away, punctuating each blow with a grunt.
“Just” WHAM “Think” WHAM “About” WHAM “Me” WHAM “Fuckin” WHAM “That” WHAM “Little” WHAM “Retard…”
The chair fell over and I heard either it, or my a
rm, crack. Fat Bastard pulled me back upright and I could feel the chair wobbling. If I had any fight left in me, I might have been able to bust the chair in half and get free.
“I think I’ll make him blow me first. It’s been a while since I had a decent blow job and he’s got such a pretty face.”
It turns out I had a little fight left in me after all. There was no way in hell I was going to let this mother fucker sodomize the only friend I had made since the world ended.
I knew I only had one chance, and it was a slim chance at that, to get out of this chair. If I could get my weight forward enough and stand up fast and straight, it should pull the back off the chair and the cuffs would slide right off the slats. Then I would have to be quick enough to deal with Fatty. He was the only one I had seen, but I knew there had to be at least one more. Otherwise, who the hell had knocked me out yesterday. I’d have to worry about that later, if at all.
I wiggled my right ankle just a little to see if I could still feel my boot knife, but it was gone. That would have made this easier.
“I’m gonna leave you awake, so you can hear us in the next room. Don’t worry, I’ll be tender with him this time.”
As soon as his back was turned, I leaned forward in the chair and shot my legs straight. Just like I thought the back split from the rest of the chair. What I didn’t count on was that my left wrist would dislocate before it did. The pain shot up to my shoulder, but as soon as I felt the tension of the cuffs let go I swung both arms out in front and charged Fat Bastard as he turned toward me.
Aftershock Zombie Series (Book 1): Aftershock (A Collection of Survivors Tales) Page 19
