Dead 09: Spring

by T. W. Brown

  Glenn nodded. Obviously his wife had figured something out. That made one of them, he mused. Right now he hardly recognized this woman who looked like his dear, sweet Cynthia. In the past hour or so, he had seen her attack a stranger and then interrogate him with a level of fierce brutality that he had never imagined could exist in the woman he loved.

  “You want to share?” he finally asked as his wife stood silent, pinching her lower lip between her thumb and index finger as she worked through whatever idea she had come up with from the information that she’d gleaned.

  “Obviously there is a lab of some sort in the area. They probably have a group of individuals that are immune to this and are trying to isolate the reason.”

  “Okay…so why kidnap a baby?” Glenn asked.

  “It could be a few reasons,” Cynthia spoke, but it was clear that she was actually just thinking out loud as she spoke with a near monotone and continued pinching her lower lip and staring at a spot on the floor. “If they are doing experiments, then a child is a wonderful supply of clean and untainted material. Also, if they have any way of determining immunity, they could make that determination early. There could be any number of reasons.”

  “Jesus,” Glenn gasped. “What a bunch of sick bastards.”

  Silence fell and Glenn had to struggle not to break into his wife’s thoughts. She was coming up with something and he would just have to wait. Meanwhile, his eyes continued to drift to the man tied up to the water pipe. He had been worked over pretty good. Cynthia had used a rubber mallet that she found in the basement and given the guy a few good whacks. Where in the hell had that level of brutality come from? Surely it could not all be from having seen her brother and his wife dead and turned.

  Could it?

  “Let’s go,” Cynthia said, bringing him out of his thoughts with a start.

  “Where to?”

  “We will start with that house you were at when you split up with Kyle and Mel.”

  “Why?”

  “Because zombies are stupid and easy to manipulate, plus we need a distraction.”

  “But what about him?” Glenn indicated the man still slumped over and tied to the water pipe.

  “Yeah,” Cynthia said with a shrug, “what about him?”

  “Are we just going to leave him tied up?”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  Glenn felt his mouth open, but he could not force out any words. Who was this person standing before him that looked like his wife? The vet who had cared for others and always been the first to step in and help when it was needed?

  “Don’t you think that is a bit inhumane?” Glenn asked.

  Cynthia looked at her husband with a hard glint in her eyes. He took a step back, now more unsure than ever before as to what had become of his wife.

  “You mean like stealing an infant from her mother? Or maybe like killing people, turning them into the living dead, and hanging them from a garage? Is that what you mean?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume as she spoke, causing Glenn to actually cringe.

  “Listen,” he finally said after regaining his composure, “I understand. You think their deaths don’t weigh on me every single second? I was with them and left. I ran away!”

  “You—” Cynthia’s features softened and she stepped to her husband, but he jerked away and cut her off before she could say another word.

  “I was a coward! That is the long and short of it. I knew that they were going to die if they did what they planned, so I ran away. You can say what you want, but we both know the truth.”

  “You came for me, you came because you were not going to leave me to this alone,” Cynthia whispered as she stepped up and sunk into her husband’s arms. “And that was not being a coward, that was being my husband.”

  Glenn said nothing. The lump in his throat had grown and threatened to choke him if he uttered another word. He held his wife and let her hold him. After several moments, Cynthia withdrew.

  “I know that my actions might seem irrational and out of character, but I am tired of being scared every single day. The best way to defeat that is to take control,” she explained.

  “But does that mean torture and God knows what else you might have planned?”

  “It means using any means necessary to get Mel and Kyle’s baby back. We either succeed or die trying. But just like them, we are in this together. If I am going to go out, it will be on my terms, not some mishap where I get bitten by a zombie or die of infection from a cut I receive climbing through a fence.”

  Glenn considered his wife’s words. He thought it over and realized that if he were in fact going to die—and these days that was more likely than not—then it should be on his terms. And now that he was with the person he loved more than any other in the world, he could stand beside her and accept whatever it was that fate had in store for them.

  “So…what is your plan?” he asked his wife.

  Cynthia smiled an evil Cheshire grin. When she had finished explaining, Glenn actually felt that her plan had a better than fifty-fifty chance of success. These days, those were pretty damn good odds.

  ***

  Ronni woke with a start to the shout of her name. It had sounded like her dad, and he was not far away. She jerked upright. Wait, she thought, why wasn’t he here with her?

  She looked around and could not figure out where she was at all. The sky was almost a solid color of gray as clouds created a dense layer up above. The lightest of mists was swirling in the air giving promise of the rain to come.

  Ronni took a closer look and realized that she was up on some sort of massive rock. But that was a very small part of the picture. She could hear the moans of the zombies and looked around to discover that there were a lot of them gathered around the rock she was on.

  Getting to her feet slowly so as to be able to withstand the rush of dizziness that came, as well as a strong desire to be sick to her stomach, she was able to get a better look at her surroundings.

  She was in a small clearing in the woods. The zombies that were reaching and trying their best to get her were actually a minor number compared to the ones that were on the ground. That had to be her dad’s doing.

  That thought brought the question back to the front of her mind. Where was her dad? Had she in fact heard him calling her name? Or had that been just part of a dream that she could not remember?

  She glanced down at her arms, wincing at the ugly redness that was forming around where she had stapled the long cuts shut with a staple gun. She could not currently understand why she had done such a thing. Her memories of the events from back at that house were hazy and hard to recall with any degree of clarity. What she did know for certain was that she needed to get down from this rock, find her dad, and then get back to that big farm with all the people and tall fences.

  She checked her personal inventory and was thankful when she discovered a small water bag that she had somehow managed to keep on her belt. She unscrewed the top and drank greedily. The water was probably the sweetest thing she had ever tasted in her life. As soon as she finished, she was hit with a pang of remorse. That had been the last of the water. What had she been thinking by drinking it all?

  Looking around, she realized that she had no way to escape. There were too many of the zombies still surrounding her rock. Plus, even if she could get down, she was in no condition to try and run. As it was, she could barely stand.

  “Where are you, Dad?” she cried softly.

  She could tell just by looking that he had obviously tried to kill all of the horrid creatures that had gathered. Judging by what she could see, he had probably decided to stop when there had gotten to be so many on the ground that the ones still animate were getting close enough that they would have been able to reach out and grab them—pull them off the rock and rip them apart—if he had killed too many more.

  What did not make sense to her was why he had left her. That caused her to start looking just a bit closer at some of the zombies.
If she saw the face of her dad in that bunch, she did not know what she would do. Maybe that would be it; perhaps she would just end it herself right here and now. If her dad was dead, she would have nobody. She saw no reason in trying to stay alive if she was going to be alone.

  She turned slowly, taking in each face that stared back up at her. When she was finished, she was at least confident that he was not one of the zombies that had her trapped.

  The frustration and hopelessness only grew as she continued to stand there staring at the undead. Her choices were non-existent as far as she was concerned. She could not make it off this rock, and if she could, she was doubtful in her ability to find her way back to that farm.

  The tears started to well up in her eyes and the tightness in her gut became so much that she had to find a way to let it out. The only thing that she could think of was to scream.

  Ronni tilted her head back and shrieked. She dumped all of the pain and frustration into that anguished sound. She felt her anger build; anger at herself for not seeing that her dad had loved her with all his heart.

  All her life, it had just been her and her mom, sister, brother, and the occasional aunt or uncle who might stay for a while when they were out of a job or something. Her dad had always just been a story. He was no more real than a character in a book. When he’d come home, she didn’t know what to think of him. He was trying too hard, dumping all these feelings on her that she did not know how to handle. How could she love this man who she did not know? Just because he went by the title of “dad” did not make him anything to her.

  Besides, he might be good with his words, and he seemed to know all of the right things to say, but Ronni had learned long ago to take a person at their actions; words were useless and cheap. Yet she had admitted to herself on more than one occasion that she really did want to get to know this man. He did seem to care about her in a very real way that made her feel good when she let it.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by something coming through the nearby trees. It was probably just more zombies. She prepared herself in case it was a zombie version of her dad. Perhaps he had wandered off and then come back. People were always saying that these things did stuff from some sort of habit.

  She made up her mind right then. If it was her dad as a zombie, then she was going to take him down. She was not sure how, and she very much doubted that she would be able to fight her way through the crowds to get him. Perhaps she could lure him close. Once he made his way to the front of the crowd, she would take the knife at her belt and stick it into his head.

  Of course she would have to move to the edge of the rock, and a few of the zombies were actually able to reach their arms a little ways. She would probably get yanked down off the rock. But that would be okay. If she was going to die, she would put her dad to rest first. He deserved that much.

  “Ronni?” a familiar voice called.

  Three horses emerged from the trees. It was that man Mr. Miller, and Scott, and Brett. There was a figure on Scott’s horse. It was her dad!

  “Help,” Ronni said weakly.

  Collapsing to her knees in relief, she watched as the men rode in hard and began to cut down the zombies that turned to face them. It only took a few minutes to be done and then Mr. Miller came up alongside the rock.

  “Let’s go, Ronni,” he said as he reached out a hand to help her. “We need to get your dad back home as quick as possible.”

  “Is he bit?” she felt the sick fear rise up in her and twist her insides in the split second that it took for the answer.

  “We can’t tell, he is hurt real bad.” Mr. Miller situated her in front of him. “What the hell did you do to your arms?”

  Ronni explained as they wheeled the horses around and took off at an easy trot. When she asked why they were not going faster, Scott explained that if they did, it might be too much for her dad.

  At last, the high fences and towers came into view. The five of them rode through the front gate where it seemed that most of the people who lived here were gathered.

  “You have to make it, Dad,” she whispered as he was taken down from the horse and carried away.

  ***

  “She will be fine,” Selina whispered to Jody as he watched the group of women gather that had been selected by random draw to be exchanged with the women from Pitts’ compound.

  He knew many of the names and faces, but there was one in particular that made his gut twist just a little bit tighter. Kat looked up at him in the tower and smiled, blew him a kiss, and then waved.

  “When I found her…she was…” he struggled to talk through the tightness growing in his throat, but his words eventually died on his tongue.

  “I know,” Selina soothed. “But she falls in the age group and her name came up. You can’t pick and choose, Jody. The moment that you do, this all falls apart.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to like it…or any of this.”

  “We got incoming!” Danny called up from the base of the watch tower.

  Jody had spotted them a while ago. This would be the women from Pitts’ place. He looked down at his small group of ten and swallowed the anger. This was so wrong.

  Climbing down the ladder, he sent Danny up to replace him and then moved over to the women that he was about to send away to become little more than breeding stock. Pitts could dress it up any way that he wanted, but this was still sexual slavery as far as Jody was concerned.

  “Ladies, I have been given the word of the man who is in charge over there. Sergeant Pitts has given assurance that each of you will be treated with the utmost courtesy during your stay, and as soon as you have given birth, you may return if that is your wish. As I have told you, the stipulations are that any boy child will be sent back to us here, but any girl child will be remanded over to their compound.” The words tasted like ash on his tongue and Jody struggled to keep his voice calm as he spoke.

  “What if we don’t get pregnant? Will they just keep at us? Do we get passed around like some whore at a frat party?” one of the women asked. Jody was actually surprised at the matter-of-fact way in which she spoke…almost clinical.

  “I don’t think that we discussed the procedures to be taken if there is no pregnancy. As for the being passed around bit, I was told that you will actually be the one to choose from a pool of suitable, and by that I have to assume that he means fertile, men,” Jody replied. “I will make a trip over in a few days. Part of it will be to check on your conditions. That is also why I wanted to see you before you left. You might be prevented from speaking to me for whatever reason. If you are in distress of any sort, or know of anything amiss, all you need to do is rub your hands together when we make eye contact. Hopefully that gesture will not be picked up on as having been a signal. But rest assured, if you give me that signal, I will do everything possible to find out what is wrong and do something about it.”

  Like what? the voice in his head mocked. If he had been able to do anything, he would have by now. He would have been able to repel Pitts and his small army and prevented this from happening in the first place. He honestly did not know if he was saying this for himself or for them.

  Kat stepped forward and gestured with her hands. Relax, Jody. We will be fine. I will keep an eye on things.

  I know you will, Jody signed in response.

  Taking the girl in a hug, he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep the tears at bay. If he held her much longer, he would be helpless, so he broke the embrace and stepped back.

  With Kat taking the lead, the women all turned and headed up the long stretch of road. Jody could see a detachment of armed individuals waiting. He sent his own team out, but he had insisted that they not carry anything in the way of weapons. The ground was open, flat, and clear. They would see an approaching zombie well before it could present a problem.

  Selina stood beside him and waited. It was hard for Jody to enjoy the warmth of the sun when he felt so cold inside. He had made a decision that repul
sed him. Still, he had been more than surprised when the women had emerged from their private conference to announce that the vote had actually been unanimous. He had a feeling that some of the votes had been given grudgingly if not outright coerced. Still, it had been done, and he had been able to give Sergeant Pitts the message that he would be sending over a group of women immediately.

  At last the group from Pitts’ compound were escorted to him. One woman stepped forward. The others all stood together, but none looked the slightest bit bothered by what was about to happen.

  Jody examined this woman as she approached. Her hair was ebony and her skin was tan. There was no disputing her Hispanic heritage. Her figure was full, but she looked healthy, not heavy. She wore an unflattering set of coveralls, but had the zipper down just enough to show off some rather impressive cleavage. Her dark brown eyes were bright and she was actually smiling.

  “You are Sergeant Jody Rafe?” she said with a hint of her Mexican accent turning his last name to “Ra-fee.”

  “Just Jody is fine,” he replied, clasping his hands in front of himself and smiling in reply.

  “And you are the person in charge here?” she asked, her eyes flicking to Selina and shooting a look that he did not quite understand.

  “We don’t have one person who is solely in charge, but I am what you might consider one of this community’s leaders…yes.”

  “Then I choose you.”

  Jody looked at the woman with a blank expression for a few seconds before the meaning of her words actually sunk in. When they did, he sputtered…but not loud enough to drown out Danny’s chuckle or Selina’s snort of displeasure.

  “Actually, I am what you might call spoken for.” He pulled Selina close to his side.

  The woman gave her an up and down appraisal and then returned her gaze to Jody. “She is pregnant. You have no need to lie with her at the moment.”