Stay Dead (Book 2): The Dead and The Dying

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Stay Dead (Book 2): The Dead and The Dying Page 4

by Steve Wands


  “Fuck,” Barbara said under her breath.

  She took another shot and the big bitch dropped.

  Jeff ran over to his father, “You okay?”

  “My back is killing me, my allergies are acting up, and these damn zombies stink to high heaven.”

  “So…?”

  “Shut up and hit one of them, will ya?”

  Jeff swung at the knees of an approaching deader and knocked it right to the ground. The crack of rifle fire intermingled with the sounds of heads being shattered into piles of ruined mush.

  6 SCAVENGERS

  (back to top)

  They continued to scavenge the cars on the road, every once and awhile someone would return back the convoy with whatever usable goods they found. They still found no hose, or spare gas canister. Jon-Jon was losing hope that they would find one, but the idea of getting a new vehicle was growing on him and when he laid eyes on a van that looked to be in good condition he forgot all about the damned hose.

  “Look at this baby.”

  “What’s with you and vans?”

  “What do you mean? Vans are cool. I’ve always had a van, and I’ve never needed a hotel room, if you know what I mean,” Jon said, grinning like a juvenile.

  Eddie shook his head, “So we’ve been traveling in your sex den, is what you’re saying.”

  “Well, not lately, but sure.”

  Eddie turned to his brother with a look of disgust, Joseph simply said, “It’s better than riding in zombie goo.”

  “Look around back, while I check the driver’s side?”

  Eddie just nodded.

  Jon-Jon peered inside the driver’s side—it looked clear. Eddie looking around the back and side of the truck found nothing, so he called out to Jon-Jon, “Looks good.”

  Jon-Jon then opened the door, he smiled that it wasn’t locked, and climbed in looking behind the seat to make sure there were no passengers—living or otherwise. It didn’t smell like anything was dead inside either and it smelled a hell of a lot better than his old Astro Van. There was no key conveniently in the ignition so he checked all the usual spots; the visor was empty, under the floor mats was clear, cup holders were empty aside from pennies and nickels, the glove compartment looked like a file drawer, and just as he was about to give up he heard the sound of keys jingling as they fell off the seat he was sitting on.

  “Son of a gun,” he said to himself, snatching the keys up.

  “Got ‘em?” Joseph asked, disbelievingly.

  “Hells yeah. Look at this sweet ride.”

  “Man, I’d rather be rolling around in that Lexus.”

  “Keep looking.”

  Scott came over and threw in his two cents, “If we don’t need it, we should leave it, and get the hell out of here. I’d rather get as far north as we can, and then go car shopping.”

  “I wasn’t serious, man,” Joseph said, “I want out of here as soon as possible. I was just saying.”

  “No, I know, hell I’d rather find a Hummer, but as long as it’s gassed and good to go I’ll hop in and push the pedal to the metal.”

  “So are we good to go then?”

  “I don’t see why not. Unless we need anything else, we should keep moving.”

  Eddie stepped closer to the others and said, “How is everyone on food and water? So long as the coast is clear it can’t hurt to find out what we have and search a few more cars to see if we can find it.”

  Scott nodded in agreement, “Sounds good. Let’s tell the others to at least move forward, though. Anyone want to run back and give the word?”

  “I’ll do it, I want to move the van up so I can swap out my shit.”

  “Ask everyone to check if they need anything,” Scott called after.

  Jon-Jon threw out a thumbs-up and kept walking.

  Chung-Hee and Chuck—an odd couple if there ever was one—hopped back in the van as Jon-Jon had notified them of the pending trade-in.

  “Do you mind I continue riding with you?” Chunge-Hee asked.

  “Not at all, man, unless you want out of course. Having everyone taking shifts driving, and just having people to talk to is great.”

  “I agree. I hate taking long trips by myself. I tend to get pretty sleepy after an hour or so in the car.”

  “Damn,” Chuck chimed in, “maybe you shouldn’t be taking any shift then!”

  The three of them laughed at that.

  Jon-Jon had pulled the van to the grass median and drove it to close proximity of his new van. The three of them got out and started carrying over what few supplies they had left. They were able to bring it all in one shot.

  Dawn had met them as they were putting the supplies in the back of the new van and she had acquired some new things from scavenging through the cars.

  “You can shop just about anywhere, huh?”

  “You better believe it.”

  The rest of the convoy shortly followed after.

  Alexis walked over to Joseph. She smiled warmly at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. His cheeks grew warm and reddened a touch.

  “How are they holding up?”

  “They’re a bunch of tough little kids, but they’re looking pretty beat up.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Actually, yeah…if you guys are still looking around for stuff, can you keep your eyes open for kids vitamins, maybe some kids medicines, Pedialyte maybe. You know, stuff like that.”

  “Sure, I’ll keep my eyes open. How about you? Do you need anything?”

  “A cozy pair of slippers, pj’s and a bottle of Riesling.”

  “I know you’re kidding, but I can probably find those before I come across the stuff for the kids.”

  “Then don’t let me stop you.”

  Eddie followed his brother as he scavenged forward, looking for any number of the things that everyone needed, but he was more concerned with finding something for Alexis.

  “Don’t loose your head,” Eddie said.

  “I’m not man, I’m just…ya know, I want to get this shit and get out of here.”

  “I know. I do too, but we can find your girlfriend some slippers when we’re someplace she can actually were them, you know?”

  “Yeah, yeah you’re right. Fuck it. Let’s go.”

  “Good, we’ve been at this for an hour and all these empty cars are giving me the fucking creeps. Big time.”

  “Seriously.”

  “Hey…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I ask you something without you thinking I’m crazy?”

  “Too late.”

  “All right. It’s happened a few times now, and since we’ve been looking through these cars it’s happened a few times more.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “I think I’m seeing ghosts, man. But not just seeing, like I’m feeling them too. It’s really fucking weird. It’s like a cold shiver runs right through me, or I’ll see like a shadow move that shouldn’t be there. It’s not like I’m seeing a ghost, like Sixth Sense or something, but more like a feeling, like I just know.”

  “You’re freaking me out even more now. You know I fucking hate ghosts. Mom used to talk about that shit all the time with Grandma when she was alive. I wouldn’t be able to sleep for days. And now you’re going to start with it.”

  “Do you think I’m losing it?”

  “Yes. No, well I don’t know man, I’m not seeing anything weird, except for the zombies.”

  “I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

  “I believe you, but I just don’t want to think of anymore freaky shit. Zombies. Ghosts. What else, man? What’s next?”

  “Gremlins.”

  “Gremlins would be a walk in the park. Shit, they could be pets. All you have to do is follow two rules: no eating after midnight, and don’t get them wet. How hard is that?”

  “You guys talking about Gremlins again?” Chung-Hee asked.

  “You know it.”

  “Dude, give me a Gr
emlin Apocalypse over a Zombie Apocalypse any day.”

  “Amen.”

  Abdul-Ba’ith stood beside his truck stretching his legs. “You should stretch, too,” he suggested to Carrie.

  “No, thanks.”

  “We’ll be driving for a while. It’s not good for circulation to sit so long without doing some stretching every now and again.”

  “How about fuck off.”

  “How about you go find a vehicle and follow behind the rest of us?”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Take it as you will, but if you end up getting a blood clot because you refuse to get out of the car and stretch your legs you are threatening my life, Alexis’s life, and the children’s lives. So, please get off your big ass and stretch out for a few minutes if you plan to keep driving with us.”

  Carrie didn’t respond, but she stared at Abdul-Ba’ith with an incredulous look etched across her face as she got out of the car and walked away.

  Alexis looked at Abdul-Ba’ith and asked, “Do you think she’ll find another ride?”

  “Sadly, no. I’m sure she’s going to hide behind a car, stretch, and then come back to us.”

  “How has she made it this long without someone killing her?”

  “I’d say luck, so maybe it will be good to have her with us.”

  “Can we strap her to the roof?”

  “If she keeps up her wonderful attitude I’ll figure something out.”

  Sure enough, Carrie had come back. She didn’t look at anyone in the truck, but climbed in and sat down.

  Jon-Jon, sitting comfortably in his new van worked his way to the grass median where he then led the convoy to the other side of the highway. It looked much easier to navigate then the right side and hopefully it would take them past whatever had caused the traffic jam to begin with.

  7 LOOSE END

  (back to top)

  He felt alive, even though he was anything but. The wind whipped his hair around like blades of grass in an open field. His arm hung out the window, and he sat slumped in his chair as if it were a throne fit for the King himself. He had a belly full of the darkest energy that surely ever existed. He thought it felt a lot like a belly full of whiskey on a cold night, but there was a hell of lot more to it than that.

  There was someone, or something, inside him. In some ways he felt like a limb, or part of a hive, he thought. He didn’t feel like a puppet on a string or anything like that, but he knew he was tapped into some serious shit. Maybe the Devil himself was taking a liking to him.

  Whatever it was seemed to know everything that was on his mind. And he too could feel parts of conversations, emotions, but it was all just a soft noise in the background of his mind. Questions were answered with a sudden understanding. Pain became pleasure. Feeling his own body going through the early stages of physical death simply felt like the sparks that would start a fire.

  He could feel, as if by some form of autonomy, where the living and the dead were—an internal compass for them both. It was with that knowledge that he knew what streets to turn down and what direction to take to get to his destination. He wanted to find the one that got away. And after he was done with her, he was going to track down those other self righteous sacks of meat and rend them each to a slow death between his teeth.

  ***

  Days earlier…

  Sarah wasn’t entirely sure how she did it. Or how she even had the courage to try, but it was that or it was letting that sick fuck have his way with her and then kill her. Her body ached from the fight, and even worse was the pain she felt in her ankle. The pain burned brightly, traveling to her knee. The way she hobbled into the woods, putting all her wait on the pad of her foot and off her heel was alleviating the pressure a touch, but come tomorrow her entire foot, and probably her leg would hurt.

  She knew she couldn’t keep this up much longer. Jumping off the roof saved her from that maniac, but she now had the attention of several deaders that were following her into the thick of the woods. She was moving quicker than them for now, but she wouldn’t for much longer. The pain was dominating her, and all she wanted to do was sit down and nurse her wounds. The dead didn’t think like that, if they thought at all. They didn’t get tired, and they sure as shit didn’t care about their wounds. As slow as they were they would never need to stop and catch their breath.

  The moon was obscured from the thick branches overhead and all Sarah could see were thin slivers of light on the edges of the trees. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, but this deep in and the moon might as well have not existed. Her lungs burned, her leg throbbed, and she just wanted to give in but the sounds of the deaders crunching leaves underfoot spurred her forward again.

  As she trotted painfully through territory unknown, images of Boone and Milah flashed through her mind. Though her and Milah had been friends for a few years, they both took to Boone quickly as if they’d known him far longer than the few days they really did. Despite it being the end of the world they made the best of it. Laughs were few and far between but when they did occur they were sincere and contagious. She missed them both dearly, but the loss of her friend Milah was devastating. It numbed her, and wedged a ball in her throat. Her eyes were wet with tears of pain, and if she ever survived the night she would weep unending for her friend.

  When Sarah thought all was lost and her legs were giving out and tripping her up more than they were carrying her forward she lie on the ground weighing out the benefit of getting up and pushing forward again. She would just collapse again. The sounds of the dead behind her had softened. Perhaps some had decided to go back, and the others were slowly catching up to her. Whatever the reason, she still could not see a reason to push herself up. Then she noticed a light on in a window just past the edge of the woods. She made it. She was at the end, and there was a light. Then the light went out and she got up to find what house it came from.

  She hobbled out of the woods and onto a street. She stood at the corner of Werrlein Ave and Mathis Street watching the windows on the second floor for signs of life. Most of the homes were boarded up on the first floors, and some on the second as well. The light in the window she saw was definitely from the second floor. She knew it wasn’t the first house, but that it was certainly one of the first few.

  Looking and listening for signs and sounds of life only revealed to her the sounds of the dead closing in. Their moans mixed in with the crunching of leaves and twigs. She turned to her right at the sound of something dragging on the street—it was a deader with a mangled foot that dragged behind it as it walked. With each step the ruined limb scraped against the blacktop, and she soon realized that the scraping noise was the sound of its bone scraping the black top. There was no shoe, sock, and barely any skin left. She wanted to throw up, but instead she decided to start screaming.

  “Help! Please help, I know you’re there!”

  She moved down the street, screaming herself raw.

  “Help you coward! I can’t run anymore, please fucking help me!”

  Her eyes were wide with terror, she was bordering on madness now.

  “JUST LET ME IN! I’m not bit. I’m alive! Fucking help me!”

  She had almost lost her voice when a window opened and a man yelled down to her, “Jesus Christ, lady, shut the fuck up. You’re going to bring them all over here.”

  “Let me in, please. I’m begging you,” she cried.

  “If you’re bit, or bleeding, I will shoot you dead.”

  “Fine.”

  She made her way over to the house. The man closed the window and ran down the stairs to open the door. She nervously moved the small front porch as she could hear movement behind the door. The man was pushing stuff aside. A barricade, she figured. She could hear him grunting as something slid slowly across the floor. Just down the street came the scraping sound of the dead man and his ruined foot.

  Scrrtttch… Scrrtttch… Scrrtttch…

  Sarah wanted to scream. To pull her hair and scream like
a woman gone mad with clumps of hair and scalp in her hands.

  Scrrtttch… Scrrtttch… Scrrtttch…

  Dead things stumbled out of the woods. They began to moan for her. The sounds of teeth clacking together.

  Clack-Click-Clak-Clik…

  Scrrtttch… Scrrtttch… Scrrtttch…

  “Come on, come on,” she whimpered.

  When the door finally opened she could swear it was as loud as a gunshot. A man with a gaunt face and a week’s worth of stubble opened the door and peered out. His eyes were wild and he held a small pistol in his hand.

  “Have you been bitten? Scratched?”

  “No. I swear. You can check me when I come in, just please…”

  “I won’t hesitate to kill you,” he warned.

  “Fine,” she said, pushing her way in.

  “Help me barricade the door again.”

  She hobbled over and helped the man push a heavy bureau against the door. She doubted she was much help, and then they moved some smaller pieces of furniture around the sides of it.

  “Now, come on, upstairs. We have to get their attention away from the house.”

  “How?”

  “Just come on.”

  The man took the stairs two at a time and Sarah did her best to keep up but all she wanted to do was collapse. She stumbled at the top of the stairs, catching herself in the doorway as the man opened the window.

  “Get down,” he told her.

  She squatted, and a sharp pain traveled up her leg from the way she positioned herself. “What are you doing?” She asked in a pained voice through gritted teeth.

  The man grabbed an empty glass bottle. Sarah thought it was an empty bottle of vodka, but she couldn’t tell for sure in the darkness of the room. “I have to distract them, otherwise they’ll start trying to get in here. This worked before, and I hope it will again.”

 

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