Dead 09: Spring

by T. W. Brown

  I returned to my group to discover Darla and James had them ready to go. I told them exactly what had been related to me at the briefing and produced my own small, hand drawn copy of a map of the area.

  “We have the greatest distance to cover,” I explained as I pointed out the other locations that would come under attack. “I want everybody to stay close and alert. The one thing we have going for us is the element of surprise. I would prefer that we not give that up.

  “I will be sending out a single two person scout team. Your job is to make it to the waypoint I give you and then wait for our arrival. If you find something, I do not want you to engage. Instead, one of you will keep eyes on the target and the other will hurry back with the information.

  “Ideally we will not use our firearms until we launch our attack, but I don’t want somebody dying in the process. Your life is just as valuable as everybody else. I get the whole idea of sacrifice for the greater good, but I also do not want you to be in a life or death situation and bite it because you hesitated.”

  I saw grim faces staring back at me. For the first time, I noticed that Doubting Thomas was in my group. Swell.

  “Any questions?” I asked, making one more scan of everybody’s faces. I knew that getting names was pointless since I would not remember them, but I wanted to know their faces. For some reason, that felt important. When it was clear that there were no questions, not even from Doubting Thomas, I selected two people at random and pointed to a spot on the map where they would hold until we arrived. I made it clear as to where we would come from provided there were no problems.

  The pair gave a nod and took off at a jog to get some distance between the main body and themselves. I took a few seconds to get a visual inventory of the firepower we were loaded out with. Everybody had some form of pistol holstered at his or her side. Everybody carried a rifle; it varied from military to your standard hunting rifle. A few had shotguns and over half were carrying bows or crossbows. I saw a wide variety of bladed weapons, axes, and even a few bandoliers of throwing knives. Last but not least, each person had three grenades somewhere on their person.

  When we reached our target, the plan was for us to all lob one into the midst of the camp we were hitting. We were to follow it with a second one, and the third grenade was to be used at our discretion. The hope was that we could take out most of these folks in the initial two blasts and then sweep in and eliminate the remainder of the targets with our firearms. It sure sounded easy on paper.

  The first half hour went by with almost nothing worth batting an eye at. The few zombies we did see were either creepers or far enough away not to be of any consequence. I did make it a point to tell my group to keep an especially watchful eye out for child zombies.

  It was coming up on the end of the first hour when we saw the first one. To be more specific, my scouts located a cluster of three. I signaled for Darla to move on to the next waypoint while I took James and three others, who carried crossbows, with me. We followed the scout to where she had spotted the children. I realized that I came across as a bit overly cautious, but I was also very aware that the people assigned to me other than James and Darla were clueless as to how the zombie children differed.

  Dr. Zahn was now of the firm belief that it had something to do with the fact that a child’s mind is still in a highly developmental stage. She feels that the children exhibit more cognizance due to the fact that some aspect of their brain is as strong or stronger than whatever is causing the zombie to become the mindless eating machines that we know so well. All I know is that they give me a massive dose of the creeps.

  We reached the corner of a little blue building with some of the letters still hanging on the side that labeled this the La Grande Small Animal Clinic. I peeked around the corner and felt my blood turn to ice. Sure enough, there were three zombie children. However, they were clustered around a huge tabby cat. The cat did not seem the least bit bothered as she lay on her side while her litter of kittens fed. The zombie children were acting like…

  “It’s like they are freaking living kids,” one of my soldiers whispered. “Are they petting that damn cat?”

  I looked closer. Nope…it was far worse than that. One of the children had a hand extended and the mother cat was nibbling on one ragged digit. I’d seen zombie dogs, but I had not seen any zombie cats. Maybe cats were immune. I had no idea, but I also knew that Jamie had been immune and he passed the disease on to Teresa when they had sex. Whatever this was, it could be transmitted.

  “Kill them all,” I whispered.

  “Even the cats?” somebody asked.

  “Especially the cats,” I snarled. I made a mental note to share this most recent discovery with Dr. Zahn.

  In the end, it was pretty anticlimactic. I had been concerned that the zombie children were just bait and that another much larger bunch was waiting to spring the ambush. Instead, it was just so much creepier. We caught up with the rest of the group at the next waypoint. I did not miss the looks of confusion on the faces of the three locals who had been with me on probably the strangest kill that I had been a part of so far. Also, I’d had to be the one to kill the kittens. Just add it to the list of things that I will have nightmares about for the rest of my life.

  Everybody else was too squeamish when it came down to just the five little pods of mewling fur. I took no joy in it, but I also could not risk letting them run free if there was even the slightest chance that they carried the zombie disease. I just hoped that the sick feeling in my stomach would go away soon.

  I’d had a black and white cat when I was growing up. Her name had been Stockings. My mom had wanted to call her Socks, but I said that was too boring and normal. Stocking slept in my bed at night and was the coolest cat ever. She would sit up on my windowsill and wait for me to come home. As soon as she saw me and knew that I’d seen her, she would leap away and I would find her at the front door. I must have cried for a week when she had to be put to sleep.

  We had only gotten two blocks when they came out from what seemed like every dark shadow, crack, or crevice. By my best guess, there were at least fifty of the zombie children between the ages of five and eleven. They did not rush us; they simply stepped out and made their presence felt. One of them crept out from under a pile of garbage that, on second glance, seemed a bit out of place.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” somebody whispered as the one that emerged from the garbage pile cocked its head and let loose with a soft groan.

  This one was a little girl. Her clothing was rotten and in tatters; it looked like the next rain would wash it away. A rip across her throat and a few chunks out of her arms gave away her cause of death.

  “Everybody keep your hands clear of your weapons,” I said just loud enough to be heard.

  “Say what?” somebody yelped.

  “I said keep your hands away from your weapons. Keep your eyes on them, but let’s move past.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Darla whispered.

  I wasn’t. Every instinct in my gut was telling me to put these things down. However, they had not yet made a move for us. I’d seen enough of their behavior and actually paid attention to some of the things that Dr. Zahn said.

  “They are more afraid of us than we are of them,” I said as I began to walk, my head on a bit of a swivel. If one of those things so much as moved in our direction, the gig was up.

  Maybe I was still feeling the mental hurt from just having killed a batch of kittens. I was not quite yet ready to lay into a bunch of little kids unless I absolutely had to do it. I heard a few people muttering curses that I was pretty sure were directed more at me than the zombie children. Still, the kids stayed put.

  We made it to the other side of the gauntlet and I pulled up, ensuring that every one of my people had made it past before I fell in. I glanced back just as we rounded the next corner and made our turn south. The little girl was standing in the middle of the street. From this distance, she could be just a reg
ular kid. I was pretty sure that I imagined her hand rising in the air as if to wave goodbye.

  Once we were clear, I let my breath out as quietly as possible. I had told myself that I would not hesitate. Katrina had urged me not to show any mercy. I knew I would have to be on my toes when we went into action against living human beings. Only…this seemed different somehow. I would have shown no such mercy towards normal zombies, but Dr. Zahn insisted that there was something abnormal when it came to the child zombie. I had seen it with my own two eyes. I was not about to invite one to come live with me, but I honestly believed that I did not need to attack them until given a reason.

  “They could have torn us apart,” a voice said from beside me, shaking me out of my thoughts.

  “What?” I asked, blinking my eyes and glancing at the female scout that had led us to the first cluster of zombie children that had been playing with the cats.

  “Turk and I walked right down the street where all of those other kids were. I passed within a few feet of that garbage pile.” The woman shuddered at the thought of how close she had come to death. “We got him to the waypoint before I doubled back to warn you. It was only a couple of blocks further and seemed like no big deal since it was only the three…or so we thought.”

  Yep, I had a lot to tell Dr. Zahn when I got back. For whatever reason, the zombie children had left us alone and let us pass. Of course that would probably mean another trip out to try and capture one of the little monsters, but one problem at a time.

  The sun was marching towards the middle of the sky and I could feel a few trickles of sweat start to carve rivulets down my skin. Twice, our scouts diverted us from a cluster of regular zombies; but at last we reached the spot on the map that indicated we were on our last leg of the journey. No advance scouts from this point. We would stay together and act as a team.

  Glancing at the watch, it was still a good forty minutes away from the straight up hour of noon. We were on the backside of the thoroughly cleaned out National Guard Armory, just on the edge of the overgrown fields that were once the home of the Eastern Oregon University Mountaineers baseball, football, and track teams.

  We steered clear of the tall grass and took refuge in what turned out to be a huge forestry center building. I guess some folks must have tried to make a stand here. There were signs that the place had been barricaded at one point, but the huge windows were simply too much to try and cover from the looks of it. Sheets of plywood had exploded in and the dark stains on the floors and walls along with a few dried husks of partially savaged human bodies, with everything from neat holes to huge missing chunks in the head, told how it ended for whoever had been here.

  “What do we do now?” a voice whispered.

  I brought everybody in close so they could see the map. “We are right here.” I pointed to a spot on the map and traced a line directly across the street. “Bernie Park is here. Since we have a little bit of time, I thought that I would give you all a moment to be with your thoughts, whatever you need to do, because in ten minutes we slip out of here and into position. I really hope we get through this without any casualties to our side, but I think we all know that the possibility exists. So if you have a particular belief, or you just want to get into whatever frame of mind you will need to be in, now is the time.”

  I was not sure what would actually happen. I guess I was a little surprised when everybody sort of peeled off. A few clustered into a small group, and I could hear the soft murmurs of prayer. I went to the main entrance and looked out across this little debris strewn slice of what had once been a fairly typical small town. I wondered if there really would be a day when kids would ride bicycles down the street, or if the ball fields would ever again buzz with a crowd of expectant fans cheering for one team or the other. Could we ever return to anything close to normal again? I guess the bigger question is whether we would want to…there was something to be said for this giant reset button.

  Glancing up, I saw my crew all converging on where I stood. They had done what they needed to do. It was now time to execute our plan and hope for the best. As I stepped back outside into the sunlight, I had a quick flash of a fantasy. Maybe this would be where they put my statue. Perhaps this was where the battle to win La Grande would be fought and won. Decades from now, people would learn about it in history class.

  “What the hell are you smiling about?” Darla whispered as she gave me a nudge with her elbow.

  “Just thinking about history class,” I said with a shrug and a smile.

  “You are so weird,” she muttered.

  We crossed the street and reached the edge of Bernie Park. A waist high Cyclone fence acted as a border. Grass had grown to the point of being within a few inches of the top of that fence. A cluster of tents could be seen on the far side of the park from us. They looked to be set up in the area around a large wooden play structure.

  I pointed and received nods of confirmation that they all knew exactly where we were headed. Everybody climbed over and we fanned out in a long line. Staying in a low crouch, we made our way closer and closer.

  I was beginning to think that we might be arriving at a decoy, or that perhaps they had already left here for their attack on the Island City compound. Signaling for everybody to halt, I crept closer by myself. Reaching the edge of the tall grass, I was at one of those asphalt paths. My heart just about came through my chest. Leaning up against the base of a tree less than ten feet away from me was a man with a rifle slung over his shoulder. I was able to relax just a bit when I realized that he was apparently dozing.

  Making sure that there was nobody else in sight, I crouch-ran straight to the guy. His eyes opened just as my hand clamped down over his mouth and my KA-BAR went up and under the bottom of his rib cage. I’d caught a whiff of some pretty heavy alcohol on his breath as he slid to the ground—red, bloodshot eyes still wide, but now glassy. I glanced down to find a Mason jar still half full of a clear, pungent liquid. I waved the rest of my group to join me.

  We were about thirty yards from what looked like the actual camp. I pulled a grenade from my pouch and watched as everybody on my team did the same. Inching forward very slowly, we came to within easy tossing distance from the target.

  Tents were set up in no particular order. I saw some folks stretched out on the grass, snoozing in the sun. A few even had hammocks. It was almost surreal to see the total lack of vigilance or concern. There were a few figures on the perimeter. These must be the individuals that had drawn watch duty. It seems we’d caught another fortuitous break as our approach brought us up on the one who had gotten blotto.

  Looking at my watch, the final seconds ticked by. Somebody nudged me, but I waved them off as the last seconds ticked. Five…

  Four…

  Three…

  Two…

  One!

  I pulled the pin and looked down the line to see faces that held a mixture of confusion and horror. Looking up, I saw a trio of children aging from around five to ten years old emerge from one of the tents. These were not zombies, their peals of laughter just another confirmation that they were, in fact, very much alive.

  Everybody was looking at me. All I could hear echoing in my head was the voice of Katrina. “I want you to come home to me, Billy Haynes. I want us to spend the rest of our forevers together. I want to face this new world with you beside me, so do what you have to do and then come back to me.”

  In a split second, I had to make a decision. Them…or us? I’d told myself that I had to put the old rules aside. If we were going to survive, I could not think like I did just a little over a year ago. According to our intel, these people were preparing to hit us with everything they had later tonight. I did not have the luxury of extending mercy. All I could do was hope that my soul would not be damned…that someday I would be able to sleep without the parade of nightmares. Things I had seen…things I had done…things I was about to do.

  No mercy.

  With a curt nod in each direction, I b
rought my arm back and watched as most (not all, I noticed) of the people on my team produced a grenade and did the same.

  In the distance, I heard explosions coming in rapid succession. I let my arm act as a catapult, tossing the grenade into the camp. I watched it fly lazily through the air. My eyes flicked to the three children who had all froze in place at the sound of the other teams’ grenades going off in the other camps. Then…they vanished behind a wall of smoke, flying dirt, and fire.

  12

  Vignettes LII

  Emily-zombie moved down the long fence. There had been a lot of activity in the past two days; and while she had no concept of time, she was oddly aware that it was uncommon for so much activity to happen over such an extended period.

  Twice, members of her group had surged forth and attacked the living; once had been a disaster, resulting in the loss of nine zombie children. She had walked out to where they were sprawled in a trampled front yard.

  She could not find a way to convey to the others that they did not need those sources of warmth. She could not make the others understand that there would be no fulfillment. This was something that each one of them must learn or discover on their own.

  A few seemed to have caught on, and it was this group that still remained. Their area was a little smaller now, and Emily-zombie saw no reason to have them spread out as much.

  Lately, and now even more often with all of the recent activity, a thought had returned. It was one that she struggled with because it seemed to pull her in two different directions. Sometimes, when that spark would fire off a signal, her head would turn to the east and the hills that turned to mountains. Yet there were other times when her head would turn west.

  Either way, mountains rose and seemed like an impossible impediment. However, Emily-zombie had no real knowledge of such things as mountains…or impossible. There was a feeling rising that she could not keep at bay much longer.