DEAD_Suffer The Children

by TW Brown

  Tracy was on her knees pulling her knife free from the temple of a girl that had to be in her mid-teens. She wiped the blade on the tattered tee shirt and stood. Only a few of the undead remained, and each was being engaged. It was over. At least this phase was in the books. We hadn’t gotten much past the main park section of the campgrounds.

  “Looks like we weren’t the first to think of this idea,” Tracy quipped as she sauntered over.

  I looked around at the two dozen corpses that littered the ground. Most were dressed in what I was starting to recognize as basic post-apocalypse gear. A mix of leathers, baseball catcher’s gear, football pads, and helmets, adorned many of the zombies we’d taken down.

  The football helmets proved to be the most problematic as it protected the only vulnerable location on the undead. The one I’d taken down had also been close to the three-hundred-pound range. I was almost willing to bet that the kid had probably played for an area high school. His gear had fit him far too perfectly. I’d had to switch to a Ka-Bar knife I carried strapped to my right thigh. I’d driven it into the cage that protected most of the face, but it had taken a few attempts.

  “Probably came in that big van,” Darya sniffed as she wiped her own blade clean on a swatch of cloth. “And was it me, or did every single one of the girls have a damn ‘Shari’ shirt on?”

  “Right?” Tracy sniffed.

  “I think she was in concert here a few weeks before all hell broke loose,” Marshawn said as he came over and plopped down in the grass.

  “Yeah?” I chuckled. “Big fan were ya?”

  “Some of her stuff was okay.” Marshawn gave an unapologetic shrug. “So, what next. This place is a bit more open than I imagined. And I’m not sure how you expect us to set up any sort of decent perimeter. This whole place is dangerously hard to control. Zombies could come from just about anywhere. And then there are the living.”

  “That would be my bigger concern,” Tracy piped in. “Zombies are a problem in numbers, and even though we had more than a few here, it wasn’t too bad.”

  I wanted to tell her to speak for herself. I’d been in danger a couple of times as we’d cleared the area. Of course, I’d been dumb enough to just hop out of the car and mosey up to the cluster of five that were gathered around an outhouse, pawing at the exterior. I didn’t expect to find two more zombies inside the damn stink box.

  “I say we do a sweep of the place.” I wiped off my own blade. “The road winds through the park. We should follow it down and get in the general vicinity of the actual river. I don’t want us too close in case it overflows during the flooding season. But having this ready water source close at hand will be a game changer.”

  “So what do you think happened to that other group?” Darya waved a hand at the corpses scattered around.

  “Could be anything.” Alex gave a shrug as she pulled her canteen from her pack and took a drink. “Maybe one or two of them were infected when they got here. It wouldn’t surprise me. That’s a big reason the FEMA shelters fell. Once somebody turned inside, it just went downhill fast. Or, maybe a small pack came through and caught them off-guard.”

  Michael and Chewie got out of the Durango after Darya opened the door for them. Almost instantly the two started chasing each other around the open grassy area of the softball field. I noticed they stayed well clear of the dead bodies.

  “I’ll keep an eye on them here,” Darya offered. “You guys take a look around.”

  “Tracy?” I motioned the woman over. “You wanna hang here? Marshawn, Alex, and I can head into the camp grounds and see what we have to work with.”

  “Sure.” She gave a shrug and walked over to sit on the picnic table beside where Darya had plopped down.

  “You think splitting up is a good idea?” Alex mumbled as we climbed into the SUV.

  I looked out at Michael and Chewie as they ran around chasing each other. I could hear Chewie’s deep ‘woof’ and the boy’s laughter.

  “I don’t think it’s the best idea, and if this were a movie, the big nasty would show up right after we disappeared from view. But those two have been cooped up and kept quiet for too long. I think they both need this.” I turned the key and started the big vehicle. “If we don’t give them a little time to blow off some steam and run off some of that energy, I think they will explode. Besides, I believe we need to get out of the car and search around down by the river.”

  “Yeah? So?” Alex shot back as I followed the arrows that pointed us towards the campsites.

  “Every time we stop and get out, that dog barks,” Marshawn answered for me. “If there is anything in these woods, I’d like to get the jump on it.”

  That seemed to satisfy her. She sat back with only a slight huff and stared out the window. I know it was just my imagination, but it seemed like the shadows grew ominous and much darker the moment we turned the corner that put the open field where Chewie and Michael played out of view.

  We hadn’t gone far at all when the first zombie staggered out of the trees and shrubs that lined the narrow access road. This one was in full police riot gear; the only saving grace was the shattered face shield. I didn’t recall seeing any police cars in the parking lot when we’d rolled up into this place.

  I stopped and Marshawn climbed out. He pulled his machete from its sheath on his hip and let the zombie approach him. As soon as it was close enough, he plunged the tip of the blade into the zombie’s face. It dropped to the ground almost anticlimactically and Marshawn turned to come back, wiping off his blade. He took two steps and froze.

  Just as he turned, obviously hearing something that I wasn’t, a gunshot sounded. That I did hear.

  I threw open my door when a second shot sounded, quickly followed by the sound of a bullet hitting the metal of the big Durango. I was momentarily torn between getting back in the vehicle or exiting and rushing to help my friend. In that span, another shot sounded and the driver’s side window shattered, the glass spraying me.

  I threw myself to the ground and rolled underneath. I heard the passenger door open and saw Alex’s feet hit the ground. She took three fast strides toward the scrub that line the road. Another shot rang out and I could see her fly through the air and vanish into the thick greenery.

  “Evan!” Marshawn hissed.

  I looked out the front and saw him sprawled on the road. I could also see a dark stain on the pavement around his left shoulder area.

  “Are you okay?” I hissed.

  “No, idiot, I’m freakin’ shot!”

  Another shot rang out and I heard it puncture the metal of the SUV almost directly above my head. A second later, the hiss of what had to be the radiator started. A steady drizzle of fluid that began to spatter just in front of me confirmed my suspicion.

  “C’mon out or the next round hits that fella lyin’ in the middle of the road,” a voice shouted from up ahead and to my left.

  I considered staying put, but one look at Marshawn told me I couldn’t. He needed help right now.

  “I’m coming out, but I need to get to my friend. He’s bleeding,” I shouted back.

  I’m pretty sure I heard somebody mutter “Oh shit!” but I was already rolling out from under the damaged SUV. Staying low in a crouch, I rushed over to Marshawn who had managed to roll onto his back.

  As soon as I reached him, I could see the large dark stain on his shoulder. He was bleeding heavily, and his eyes were squeezed shut in pain.

  “It looks worse than it is,” Marshawn managed through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, good…because it looks like you are going to bleed out,” I snarled as I pulled a knife and cut away his jacket and shirt.

  Marshawn was a pretty big guy. He had a broad chest and shoulders. Those shoulders were both capped with humps of shoulder muscle that would make a camel jealous. From the looks, a bullet had gone through the left trapezius muscle. There was a puckered hole that was oozing blood in a very steady stream.

  “My bag is in the car,” he sa
id. “Grab it.”

  I jumped up, almost having forgotten about the shooter. I was quickly reminded when a figure in full hunter’s camo stepped out from the trees. He even had the hat with a veil over his face so I couldn’t see him. As soon as I jumped to my feet, he brought the nasty looking hunting rifle up to his shoulder. From the looks of it, I guessed it to be a -30.06. It had a scope, but at this range, he wouldn’t miss.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I spat. “My friend is bleeding out. Either shoot me or let me go to our rig to grab his medical bag.”

  “He’s a doctor?” the voice behind the veil gasped. “Oh…crap.”

  I decided that the time for talking was done and turned my back on our attacker. I rushed to the Durango and threw the door to the rear cargo area open. A black bag shoved off to the side jumped out at me and I unzipped it to be sure. Sure enough, I saw bandages, some tubes of whatever, and a few bottles of alcohol and such.

  Grabbing it, I rushed back and knelt beside Marshawn. “Tell me what to do.”

  I registered the fact that our shooter had moved closer and was now kneeling on the other side of Marshawn’s body. He’d lifted his camo veil and I almost dumped the medical bag. I grabbed one of my filthy gloves by the fingertips and jerked it from my hand then repeated the gesture with my other glove.

  “A fucking kid,” Marshawn hissed. “I got shot by a kid?”

  “I’m seventeen,” the boy said defensively. “And are you really a doctor?”

  “Not right now,” I snapped as I pulled out some gauze and one of the bottles of alcohol.

  Popping the lid, I pressed the wad of gauze to the mouth of the bottle just as the acrid smell singed my nostrils. I felt the cool liquid as it saturated the bit of gauze. I leaned forward to make a swipe at the wound.

  “Wait!” Marshawn barked. “Kid, get over here. When he puts that on this wound, it’s gonna hurt even worse than it does now.”

  The kid glanced at me as if seeking permission. I just shrugged.

  He quickly shouldered his weapon and scrambled forward on his knees. “Okay, now what?”

  Marshawn swung so fast, it was little more than a blur as his right fist connected with the kid’s nose. A nasty crunch sounded followed by a yelp that was probably more pain than surprise…and I had to imagine he was pretty dang surprised, so I had to guess the punch hurt.

  “What the—” the kid began.

  “That’s for shooting me,” Marshawn snapped. “You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing.”

  “So I don’t get to shoot him?” a voice said from the bushes.

  Alex stood up and slung her rifle over her shoulder. For his part, the kid hardly flinched. He did glance over his shoulders briefly, and when he turned back to me, I am pretty sure he breathed a near silent whistle.

  Alex strolled over and nudged the kid out of the way. “I’ve got him. You’ve done enough.”

  “You ready?” I held up the alcohol-soaked gauze.

  Marshawn nodded. Without any delay—or warning—I slapped the wadded material on the wound. I probably could’ve done it differently, but I wanted to just get to it. For his part, Marshawn made a long hiss as he sucked air in between his teeth.

  I wiped at the bleeding hole and then swapped out the first bit with another. After two more times of doing that, Marshawn directed me to soak the next one and then push it into the wound. Next, I repeated the process on the exit would. I cleaned it as best I could and then packed in some more fresh gauze soaked with alcohol. After that, I slapped a square of the stuff on front and back, taping it into place.

  As soon as I had that done, Marshawn sat up. He shrugged himself into his coat and then reached up to have me help him to his feet.

  “You wanna tell me why the hell you shot at us?” Alex said as Marshawn flexed the hand on his injured side.

  “Umm…well…” the kid stammered.

  “You make it a habit of shooting at people?” I pressed.

  “No, but there were these people here two days ago. They were crazy. Tried to set fires in a bunch of the campsites. Running around making a bunch of noise. Almost like they were trying to bring zombies down on this place.”

  I described Don Evans and Natasha and asked if any of the people fit that description. He didn’t even hesitate before saying that nobody fitting those descriptions were part of the raiders. Once he described the first person as being black, I knew this group were not involved with the Evans crew.

  “Name?” Alex snapped, apparently bored with the banality of the conversation.

  “Todd…Todd Burns.”

  The kid removed his hat and I could now get a good look at him. He still had a smattering of teenage acne marring his face. His teeth were a bit widely spaced. This was even more pronounced with his front upper teeth to the point I would swear you could fit a drinking straw between them. I had a brief thought that it was now beyond realistic to think he would ever see an orthodontist to correct the problem. His blondish hair was cut down to a crewcut. He had thin lips that barely amounted to a dark slash where his mouth was, and his blue eyes were close set. His nose was upturned, and his nostrils constantly looked flared. He was perhaps about six feet tall; and if he had a few rocks in his pocket, might weight a hundred and seventy.

  “And I take it you’re alone?” Alex asked as she made a show of slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

  “Yeah…why?” Todd Burns answered meekly.

  “Idiot.” In a flash, Alex grabbed the kid by the arm, tossed him over her hip and onto the ground and dropped onto his chest with her knees on either side of his head. She held a knife I hadn’t seen her produce with the pointed tip just scant centimeters above the kid’s rapidly blinking left eye.

  “You don’t ever give yourself up like that,” Alex hissed as the kid began to both babble and whimper; almost simultaneously begging her not to kill him and asking what he’d done wrong. “As far as we knew…until just now…you might have a dozen people hiding in the woods with guns trained on us. Now we know it’s just you. I could gut you and leave you for walker bait right now with no worries.”

  “And I would put a bullet in the back of your head,” a female voice called from behind us.

  I turned to see a girl who also looked to be in her teens. She had a rifle pressed to her shoulder and it was obvious that she had Alex in her sights.

  If I wouldn’t have been staring at Alex’s face, I would’ve missed that very slight twitch of her lips that suggested a smile. It was there and gone in the blink of an eye…but I know what I saw.

  She raised her hands, making a demonstration of pulling that blade away from where it had just been pointed at Todd’s eye. Turning slowly, she faced the girl who now had her at gunpoint.

  “And who might you be?” Alex said softly.

  “The person with the gun…that’s about all you need to know right now.” The girl stepped over some tall grass and edged around so that she had an unobstructed view of all three of us, but her gun never came off Alex.

  “Are we gonna stand here and have a pissing contest until something comes along and takes a bite out of all our asses?” Marshawn growled. “In case anybody forgot…I was the one who just got shot.”

  “And how do we know you aren’t part of that group of assholes that just rolled through here the other day, shooting the place up and causing trouble?” the girl snapped back.

  “I guess you don’t.” I stepped forward, raising my hands a little higher to hopefully demonstrate that I wasn’t trying to cause a problem.

  “They weren’t doing anything like them other guys,” Todd said, wiping at the blood that dripped from his nose. “And they got a girl with them.” He made a gesture to Alex.

  “I’m a woman.” She sheathed her knife and made a nod towards the girl still holding the gun pointed at her. “That…is a girl.”

  “I didn’t mean…” Todd began to sputter and stammer, but Alex actually laughed.

  “I’m just busting your
chops. All that crap people used to get so excited about is really low on the list of things to get worked up over, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Ummm…I guess.” Todd shrugged. “Margaret, put the gun down.”

  “Don’t call me that,” the girl huffed as she lowered her weapon.

  “I’m really sorry about shooting you, mister.” Todd turned to the man he’d injured, his neck turning scarlet as the blush of embarrassment crawled to his face and came into full bloom on his cheeks.

  “Well, it seems to have passed through,” Marshawn said with a shrug that turned to a wince. “Just gonna have to keep it clean so infection doesn’t settle in.”

  We made hasty introductions where we learned that Margaret Burns preferred to be called ‘Maggie’. We still didn’t reveal anything about the others back at the main campground, but with what we’d learned about things that had happened, I suddenly very much wanted to get back to Chewie, Michael, and the ladies.

  And then we heard the baby-cry sound.

  As one, all of us spun to face the source of that hair-raising noise. A single zombie stumbled from the woods. He looked like he might’ve been a park ranger or whatever they have stationed at McIver. His uniform was shredded and most of his right arm looked like it had been thrown in a wood chipper. Strips of meat hung from it in dried strands that resembled beef jerky. His mouth was a dark stain, and when he opened it, that awful sound came out looking very wrong as it came from a man easily over two hundred and fifty pounds.

  “I’ve got him,” I said as I stepped past Marshawn and drew my blade.

  Just as I plunged the blade into the side of its head, a crash came from off to our right. Several more of the undead were fighting their way through the woods to get to us. They had reached an area dense with foliage and were now making a lot of racket.

  “Maybe we should bail,” Todd whispered, sounding far too nervous for somebody who’d been out in this environment for as long as it appeared he’d been.

  “There aren’t that many.” Alex gave a dismissive wave as she stalked past the uncertain boy who was now looking over at his sister for an indication of what to do.