by Dan Decker
“Out we go,” I said refusing to let her hesitation stall us.
Sharon nodded as I moved to the torn opening. I was about to pop out when I heard scuffling just outside the main entrance. I motioned at Sharon, but she was already moving, grabbing a bag from her cot and slinging it over her shoulder.
I stepped through. Sharon came right after, as she did Bill peered in through the door. I could not tell from my perspective if he was still himself.
“No time to waste.” I dashed into the jungle, trusting Sharon would follow. When I glanced back, she was right on my heels.
Bill stuck his head out the hole I had made, when he saw us he tore through.
My moment of doubt ended when he roared.
23
It appeared we had outrun the zombies but it was difficult to say for sure. The jungle could hide a jaguar so well we might walk right by one without knowing how close we had come to danger.
That was how I felt as Sharon and I made our way through the forest. It had been an hour since we had left camp and we had been fortunate enough to stumble upon the trail we had used earlier in the day.
After a heated but quiet argument we had decided to hike several miles out from camp before we stopped to assess our situation. It was a fancy way of saying we did not have the slightest clue what we were going to do next.
“You’re sure you packed the backup radio?” I asked as we walked, trying to keep both fear and anger from showing in my voice.
Sharon gave me a glare that might have scared me if I had not spent all afternoon being chased by actual monsters.
Monsters that would kill if given the chance.
And turn me into a zombie.
“I am sure. Somebody must have gotten it, but who would have done a thing like that? We kept the main radio accessible to all. There was no reason to steal the backup.”
“Humans are unpredictable.”
“Indeed.” Sharon spun and poked a finger into my chest. “You knew about Sandy, didn’t you? You knew all along she was going to become a zombie. Would you care to tell me how?”
I licked my lips and thought about denying it, but in the dying light I could see Sharon would not buy it.
“Capybaras,” I said with a sigh of resignation. “Baby capybaras, in fact. The lizard I killed was flanked by baby capybaras that were covered in sores.” I looked away, uncertain if I should say what I had in mind but decided to get it out. We had been chased by zombies, perhaps the next part would be more believable now. “They appeared to respond to his orders.”
Sharon furrowed her eyes, her voice was cold. “And you did not think to tell me any of this?”
“Would you have believed me if I told you I had been attacked by baby zombie capybaras on the orders of a lizard? Even with indisputable proof, you would have a hard time considering such a radical notion.” I looked at her carefully to gauge her reaction. “I saw a lizard that was more than double the size of the one I killed. I think that’s what attacked Erik.”
Sharon seemed unfazed. Perhaps she had seen one or assumed the eggs had come from a creature larger than the one I had collected.
“You’re right,” she said at last. “It does sound a little unlikely, doesn’t it?” Her face seemed at odds with her forgiving tone, but I could not tell because she was covered in shadow in the fast fading light.
“It dang well does.”
She started moving. I did not follow right away. As tempted as I was to abandon her, we needed each other to survive. She was not happy to be stuck with me either. I would not have been her first choice, but she would not have been mine.
Does she wish for Bill? I wondered with a shake of my head, thinking of how easily she had given up on him. She’ll walk away from me without a moment’s hesitation.
We stopped when full dark set in and looked at each other, each at a loss for what to say. Sharon opened her mouth to speak but she was cut off by a scream.
24
My instinct was to run to the aid of the person in trouble but Sharon grabbed my arm. Her grip was stronger than I would have thought and I became concerned her nails might draw blood, but I pulled my arm free and touched my flesh. It seemed okay.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Her voice was a low whisper but there was something else as well.
Fear?
Her face was white and her eyes were wide. It was a surreal moment as I looked at the woman who had carefully spent the majority of her time crafting a strong image that I now knew was a lie.
A few monsters had ripped it apart. It was good to know she was like the rest of us.
I did not know how to respond. I had been afraid for days. I felt like saying welcome to the party.
“That person needs our help,” I said.
“They’ll be a zombie by the time we get to them.”
I shook my head. “We don’t know that. It took Sandy more than three days to convert.”
“It took Jill less than a few minutes.”
I nodded, wondering what Sharon had been doing when Jill was attacked. More details kept surfacing. Sharon had accused me of withholding information, but what was she keeping back? Had she suspected something was happening with Sandy or Erik? Had she disappeared at the first sign of trouble, abandoning Jill?
Sharon did have a valid point about how fast Jill had become a zombie. If she could show fear I could admit when she said something that made sense.
“It appears the conversion of a human to a monster is increasing at an exponential rate,” Sharon muttered quietly under her breath. Even in the low levels of light I could tell that color had returned to her face.
It was good to see the calm and rational Sharon, even if she was still cold.
Not something I would ever say to her, of course.
“Regardless of how fast they’re changing, that sounded human.” I shook my head when I thought of how quick I had given up on Mike. I should have tried harder, with both him and Bill. “If we don’t help, it is one more zombie we have to avoid. I would rather have another ally.”
“We’re dead if you do.”
I trudged off. “It’s worth the risk.”
A moment later I kept my face forward and hid a sigh when I heard Sharon following me. I did not want her to know how glad I was she had decided to come along. While I feared she might one day stab me in the back—at least metaphorically—at the moment I thought I could trust her to tell me when a zombie was coming from behind.
25
The scream had come from the direction of camp, so rather than cut through the undergrowth we stuck to the trail. It was difficult to navigate the jungle under the best of circumstances, traveling at night made it all the worse.
As our eyes adjusted to the low-level of light we moved without a problem until full dark set in, at which point I was forced to pull out my flashlight.
“Not a good idea,” Sharon said when I told her why I was rummaging through my pack. “Might as well set off a flare.”
“I can’t see very well, can you? I don’t think we have a choice. I’m not going to be much help if a snake bites me. Aha, here it is.” I pulled out the headlamp, strapped it to my head and flipped it on.
The area flooded with light. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I knew it was too bright. It was indeed a beacon.
“Turn it off!” Sharon snapped, reaching for the lamp. I was faster, pulling it from my head while flipping the switch. I did not know what Sharon would do if she got her hands on it but I was not about to find out. I stuffed it into my pocket, her eyes were still adjusting to the light so she could not see what I had done. I turned to keep that pocket from easy reach as I rifled through my pack and pulled out a roll of athletic tape. The first week here I had rolled my ankle and had to wrap it for several weeks.
I tore off a couple of pieces and did not respond to Sharon’s questions as I pulled out the light and used the tape to cover the lens, leaving only a thin horizontal line at the ce
nter.
When I clicked it on, the light showed through the tape, but not nearly like before, the light coming through the slit was plenty to show the way.
“It will keep us from stepping on a snake,” I said in a quiet murmur.
Sharon’s lips were tight and I thought she was about to argue, but she shrugged. “Good enough, I suppose, as long as you turn that off the moment we hear something.”
“Deal,” I said, slinging on my pack and starting down the path just as the person screamed again. Instead of putting the light back on my head, I hung it from my neck so it pointed down. This earned an approving nod from Sharon. The light bounced as we moved, but at least I was not about to step on a snake that would kill me in two steps.
26
By the time we reached our camp the moon was overhead and provided enough light that I had switched off my headlamp. We had not heard a scream in several minutes, but the last one had undoubtedly come from here. Even without the moon I would still have turned it off it because we were at ground zero. There was no telling what might lurk in the shadows.
“Look at that,” Sharon said, pointing to the coolers I had knocked over earlier. They were stacked, even the one Bill had picked up and almost thrown at Sandy.
I tried to not look smug that there was at least one more survivor, justifying our return.
We haven’t seen Erik, Carmen, Jen, Max or Harold, not to mention others. There was a good chance much of our crew still lived.
“Perhaps you were right,” she said softly. “Maybe they have a radio.”
I nodded while surveying camp. We were hiding behind some trees, hoping the shadows were enough to keep the zombies from finding us.
Day one of running from zombies and we know nothing about them.
Did they hunt by smell? Or sight alone?
Does the spaceship somehow fit into all this?
Was it merely a coincidence that it had been found near the dinosaurs or was there a connection? There was not much we knew about the object, other than the fact it appeared heavy, was possibly spherical, and clearly unnatural.
Where does the door go? I wondered, thinking of the rectangle on the side.
Sharon and I waited for a long time, the night sounds moving all around us. From the shelter of my tent the evening noise had not usually bothered me and had rarely kept me from sleep. All the hiking we did saw that I slept well, but as we sat waiting to see who might be in camp, the sounds of nature loomed large.
The slightest rustle of leaves made us both turn, but it was nothing. It did not get easier the longer we waited. It was not until we been sitting for several hours that I realized it was a good idea to shift so we were not both facing the same direction. We had sat so we could monitor camp. One of us should watch the opposite direction.
After a hushed conversation with Sharon, I began to move, intending to make the necessary adjustment. I had studied my immediate surroundings and thought I could complete the maneuver without standing.
The night stretched on and it seemed my small incremental movements were painfully slow.
Sharon’s hand lashed out like a snake and grabbed my arm.
I looked where she pointed.
It was Sandy.
She had emerged from behind the coolers.
27
The dark covered the sores on her face and her missing hair, but despite it all, knowing she was a zombie and was the one who had started this reign of terror in our camp, I wanted to go to her. I wanted to ask how she was doing.
The shadows make her seem normal.
Sharon’s hand fell from my arm and for the briefest moment I almost did. My brain sent the instruction to my feet. I barely stopped myself from getting out of a crouch.
Sandy did not look as raw as the creatures we had dealt with earlier. She waited by the coolers before ambling out of the shadows in the same struggling gait the baby capybaras had used.
It was the same walk as the other zombies.
Any desire to check on her wellbeing evaporated. I was glad I had not given away our position.
Am I insane? I wondered. She attacked Mike and Bill.
The monster stopped at a tent. It was several seconds before I realized it was mine. My breath caught in my chest. Did she remember something? Had she been drawn there by memories of me?
Instead of reaching for the zipper to gain access, she clawed at the fabric with her torn hands.
Any thought she might still be in there fled. If she could not remember something as basic as how to open a tent, there was no way she remembered me.
She continued her struggle to get inside and just when I thought she would give up, she managed to tear a small hole. She examined it before continuing her frenzied effort.
If she had been human, she would have realized she needed to focus on the hole she had already created, it should have been easy to gain access after making a tear.
That was not what she did.
She clawed at the tent as if not recognizing the significance the hole represented. By sheer brute force she made other tears and before long had clawed a hole big enough to get her head inside.
That was all it took, one look and she moved onto the next.
“I don’t think they hunt by smell,” I whispered so quietly that Sharon shook her head to indicate she had not heard. I shuffled closer and repeated myself, my lips accidentally brushing Sharon’s ear. I would have normally recoiled in horror but my instincts kept me from making a sudden move. She too looked as is if she would have done the same but had constrained herself for the same reasons.
After wiping her ear on her shoulder, she turned to mine, and while keeping far enough away to avoid contact, whispered back.
“We should assume nothing.”
She had a point.
When Sandy arrived at the next tent she started clawing her way inside, even though the zipper was partially down.
She had no memory of her previous life, as difficult as that was to believe.
Sandy tore in before long, much faster than it had taken on the last tent. While it was tempting to think she had learned something, I was not going to rule out two other factors: luck and quality of the fabric.
I had paid top dollar for my tent but some of the others had brought cheap tents that barely kept out the rain, most of those had been reinforced with tarps. While this one did not have a tarp, it had belonged to Jill. Much of her stuff had been cheap so it was a safe bet the tent was too.
Sandy checked inside and moved to the next.
She went from tent to tent in our camp as we watched in silence, each of us just as intent on staying quiet as much as learning about the monster. All thoughts of turning to face the other direction had fled.
Sharon’s tent was last and Sandy just stumbled in through the open door instead of clawing her way through. Sandy’s approach on Sharon’s tent had been a direct path to the door. She found the hole on the back side and came out that way before circling into camp.
I had not thought Sandy would find anybody but was still relieved when she completed her search. We’d been there for most of the night, watching as she looked. It was nice to know the person who had fixed the coolers had avoided detection.
We just needed to find them.
As Sandy ambled about without a clear objective, I held my breath and noticed that Sharon did the same. The bushes where we hid were a little more than five feet from the edge of camp.
Now that Sandy had no place else to look, there was no predicting what she would do next.
Her movements were slow. When Sharon made a sharp intake of breath, my heartrate increased. The pounding in my chest seemed to echo around the clearing as we watched to see if Sandy had heard.
I finally had to breathe as well, not realizing I had held my breath since Sharon had inhaled. I took control, letting it out carefully and inhaling at an even slower rate, painfully aware of how much I wanted to breathe but also not wanting to make any more sound than ne
cessary.
Sharon looked at me askance, making me even more self-conscious, by the time I had filled my lungs I needed to breathe again. Sandy still wandered the camp as if expecting to find us, even though she had examined it thoroughly.
Signs of low mental activity? Could she tell we were nearby but did not have the ability to pinpoint our location?
My eyes wandered to the trees.
Or perhaps the human who had rearranged the coolers had climbed a tree and Sandy could tell they were there.
I was starting to make a careful examination of the trees when Sandy came around from behind a tent and shuffled in our direction. I was midbreath when this happened and stopped, afraid my breathing had given us away. Judging by the look I received from Sharon, she apparently had the same thought.
We stayed still as statues.
Any moment now she is going to break off and go the other way.
I counted to fifteen.
She kept coming.
She isn’t charging, she probably doesn’t know we’re here yet. Sandy and Jill had moved fast when they attacked. If she had found us she would not be limping.
I refrained from shaking my head. Unless she is capable of deception.
The attack came from behind.
Bushes moved. Branches broke.
Sharon and I responded in different ways. I brought up my machete, intending to meet the monster while Sharon backed away.
The zombie lurched and was kept at bay by a low hanging tree branch.
At that same moment Sandy charged from the other direction.
Sharon tore down the trail as I backed away, almost tripped but recovered and spun.
Sandy went after Sharon as the other monster roared. I doubted it was anything compared to a lion, but it was the scariest thing I had ever heard.
I ran.
28
I dashed straight through camp and was about to alter my course to avoid a tent until I realized it was Sharon’s. I went through the door and out the hole without slowing down, bursting out the other side and almost tripping as my feet snagged. Throwing out my hand, I managed to stabilize myself by taking hold of a tree branch.
