Containment: A Zombie Novel

by Hippsley, B. A.

  Firth stopped dead as he rounded the front of the camper van. From the driver’s door to the mid section was a mass of bloody handprints. A set of plastic garden furniture was strewn across the floor along with food and plastic plates. The remnants of a once colourful awning hung off the partially demolished aluminium tent frame. Blood covered the whole area. As they began to file in behind Firth, the others took in the full extent of the ghastly scene.

  “What in hell’s gone on here?” Hardman whispered.

  Firth looked about the area. There’d been a hell of a fight, the awning had been torn apart and everything thrown about. A Grizzly could do all this and more. Looking at the handprints on the white camper, this looked as if it was people, and more than one. The thing that puzzled him the most was where were the owners? The table had been set for two and there were only two chairs. Then he looked at the van.

  “We gonna have to check the van, guys.”

  “What in hell for?” Murphy spluttered, still in shock.

  “Do you see anybody about here? Maybe they’re in the van…”

  “Yeah, what if they are hurt or something?”

  “You volunteering, boy?” McDowall mocked Miguel, gesturing toward the camper.

  “No, no I’m not a fighter, I...”

  “Why don’t you go Glyn? You’re always telling us how tough you are?”

  “Screw that Tony! Hardman’s closer than me.”

  Hardman moved back from the side door as if he’d been scalded, shaking his head.

  Firth’s gaze fell on Billy Boy then Murphy. Billy Boy would be lucky even to get the darn door open, so that left Murphy. Then he had an idea of how to use the situation to gain support. The worst thing he was likely to come across would be the dead campers. Unless it was the nut that’d killed them, of course.

  “Okay, I’ll go in but you warriors be ready for anything. You got that? See if you can make out anything inside the van. I don’t want anybody creeping up on me.”

  The men peered through the windows of the camper, but all the curtains had been drawn. The brown cloth made an excellent and irritating barrier. Apprehensively, Firth approached the side door and slowly pulled the handle down. The bloodstained door creaked open. Firth cursed the fact that no one had bothered to bring a flashlight and slowly stepped inside. As he entered the campervan, adrenaline surged through his body, he felt for a light switch near the door but found nothing.

  He tried to open the curtains but they were secured by some type of cord; he desperately fumbled to open them in the pitch black. His mouth dry, he could feel his heart pound and he fought the urge to run. After what seemed an eternity he managed to open a blind, flooding the interior with light. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness he scanned the van and within minutes he’d searched the whole vehicle. There was nothing.

  “He’s been in there a long time fellas,” remarked Billy Boy, moving nearer the door. He hoped nothing had happened though he was sure happy it wasn’t him in the van. Then Firth emerged from the doorway.

  “Nothing. It’s empty.”

  Firth stepped down from the van and leant up against the side, massaging his temples.

  “Nothing,” echoed Miguel.

  “Everything is neat and tidy, beds all made up. No blood and no bodies. Whatever happened it happened fast.”

  “You’d better call this in Tony.”

  Hardman glanced over at the others.

  “Now wait up there guys. If I do that, then Benteen’s gonna turn this whole damn area into a crime scene and no one’s gonna keep searching. We never gonna find them kids.”

  “Tony, we got Lord knows what going down here. We gotta report this,” demanded McDowall.

  “If it was your boy, would you be so quick to give up, Glyn?”

  McDowall lowered his gaze, deep in thought as he looked away.

  “Yeah but Tony...”

  “Leave it Ross! We gonna follow Tony on this.”

  McDowall moved to join Firth. Without a sound, George Lee appeared from behind the camper’s front and stood looking at the carnage.

  “Jeez, George, you scared the crap outta me,” said Firth, stumbling backwards.

  “What you doing up here?”

  “I was fixing to help out with the search. I done saw you and reckoned I’d tag on.”

  “Think this was bears, George?” asked Billy Boy, nervously wrapping his arms around his chest.

  George Lee squatted down near the remains of the bloodied torn awning, brushing his fingers over the ground, staring intently at the area. After a few moments he shot up like a coiled spring and silently walked to the front of the vehicle, gesturing to the upturned table and chairs.

  “Ain’t no bears.”

  Hardman rubbed at his eyelids, shaking his head. He’d never got used to all this ‘mystic man of the woods’ bull, but he remembered how Lee had found those climbers back last summer, when everybody else had given up. Even the hounds hadn’t been able to find them.

  “Then what?”

  “There’s a mess of all kinda footprints leading to the chairs. All the blood is up here,” he said, pointing to the front of the vehicle. Then he walked a few feet towards the rear of the camper.

  “Then you got these big old army boots coming right in behind the first set.”

  Cradling his rifle in his left he jabbed out his other arm and pointed to a tree in a direct line past the plastic furniture.

  “See them holes? They’s bullet holes. This ain’t no bears.”

  Miguel stepped anxiously forward.

  “What you say George, these people been shot?”

  This was all getting too much for Miguel, here he was up the mountain searching for some lost kids and now there was a gun nut on the loose. And the only one with a gun anywhere near was standing right in front of him.

  “Ain’t up to me to say. I ain’t the law. But it don’t take darn near ten people to shoot two folks sitting in chairs. You’d better call this in, Mr Mayor.”

  “We already been through all that. I want to find them kids now. I don’t want to waste time waiting for Benteen to show up. We gonna call it in later. Will you track for us George?”

  Lee looked at the others and it was some time before he answered.

  “Yep, reckon so. Where you all headed?”

  “Good man. I was sure that Conrad would’ve taken them to The Meadow but I was wrong. So now we gonna follow the search grid and head for Dobson’s barn and...”

  “Dobson’s barn? You done gone round in a circle, that’s in the other direction.”

  Firth rounded on Ross Murphy.

  “I thought you knew where the hell we were going! Eagle Scout you told us? Eagle Scout my ass. How far we out, George?”

  “Bout three miles, if you’re lucky.”

  “Can you get us to the barn?”

  “Yep. We gotta go join the old airbase track then a ways up; we go back into them woods and the barn’s right there.”

  Firth was relieved that Lee was with them on this; at least they could get on with the search. If they had got lost then Benteen would be furious. If he found out that they’d deliberately ignored the search plan that was something best not thought about. He walked forward to Murphy, stared at him until the man looked down at his feet, then snatched the survey map from the rucksack pocket and handed it to Lee.

  Lee shook his head and held up his hand. “Got no use for one of them. They’s made by city folk.”

  Then he strode off with the others following close behind.

  ****

  Elle-May placed her rubber gloves into the contamination bin and looked intently at Zoë Watson. Both were in shock. Al and Jill Paxmore had brought Tony Arcado, Britney Patrick and Jehna Galway in about ten minutes ago. Tony and Britney had checked out just fine but Jehna Galway by all the odds should be dead.

  “Elle-May what in hell’s wrong with that girl? We ought not to have tied her up like that.”

  Even with her spine cut
clean through, she’d gone crazy and tried to bite them. Norris Zillman had brought some restraints and they’d bound her to the bed. In all her years of nursing, Zoë had never seen anything like it. A fence post had impaled the girl and cut through her backbone. Even with pain-killers that should have knocked out a horse, the girl was still awake. They’d tried to plug the wound as best they could but the stuff coming out of it sure wasn’t any kinda blood she’d ever seen. The whole thing was way too freaky.

  “Zoë, we had to restrain her, there’s nothing else we could do. I don’t know what’s up with her, it’s sure beyond us. Look, make real certain you don’t get none of that stuff on you. I gotta talk to Brad Eastman.”

  Zoë washed her hands and watched Elle-May leave the room. Alone in the treatment room, she could still hear that girl’s awful wails. She shut her eyes tightly and concentrated on last week’s ballgame results. The rough paper towel scraped her sore hands; she smoothed moisturiser on them and made a mental note to ask Lenski for more prescription cream.

  Eventually, all she could hear was the rhythmic tick-tock from the wall clock. She looked up at its large round face – was that the time? She should have gone home half an hour ago; she just knew Elle-May would need her to stay. Damn! It was times like this she wished she’d never quit smoking.

  ****

  Eastman was sitting in the nurse’s rest room listening to Elle-May as she explained about the test results she’d taken. It was obvious this virus or disease or whatever the hell it was, was infectious. The drifter had been right all the time but he still wasn’t to be trusted.

  Jehna Galway’s folks wanted to see their little girl and though they had every right, he couldn’t allow them, not when she looked like that.

  “Elle-May, has anyone else got this bug?”

  “Nope. Tony Arcado, Britney Patrick, Jill and Al all checked out clear. I’m keeping Tony and Jill for observation. Tony’s real shook up and Jill got some whiplash but nothing to do with the bug.”

  “What about Britney Patrick and Al?”

  “I’ve sent for her folks, she’s fine and Al’s gone with Jill’s brother, he’s gonna hang around for Jill.”

  Eastman had already interviewed everyone from the group; there seemed little point in keeping people in hospital with nothing wrong with them. Jill’s brother lived in town so it would be easy to get hold of Al if need be.

  “I still can’t believe what happened to poor Ruby. How are her parents?”

  “I just came from there, Father O’Donnell’s with them now. I sent Jedrey and Eddy Joe with the coroner to bring the body back. I just called in to ask you something before I meet up with them. Bob and Jane Galway want to see Jehna, is that gonna be possible?”

  “No. I wouldn’t advise that. Not like she is. Before we got to work on her you could see light through the hole in that poor kid’s gut. I sure don’t know what’s keeping her alive; I swear it ain’t natural.”

  “Maybe, but how can I stop them seeing their own kid?”

  “I’ve tried knocking her out but it just doesn’t work. We got her under restraints with tape on her mouth. It’s like...well...it’s like she’s possessed or something. You gotta stop them from seeing her.”

  “How? How am I gonna do that?”

  “Maybe you could tell them she’s been isolated for medical reasons. There’s all kinda protocols for that sort of thing. Anne would know best.”

  That sounded as if it could work. They could see her through a window and that would calm them a while. Seeing her all wild would not serve any kinda purpose. Sometimes things were best left unseen.

  He fought for control as his last images of Helen on the roadside flooded into his head. Her crushed and broken body, still smiling at him through the shattered windshield. Putting on a brave face just for him. Unable to help, he’d watched her die in front of him. Painfully, he dug his short fingernails into the palms of his hand, hoping Elle-May had not noticed.

  “Anne? Yeah, where is she?”

  “Oh, she went up the Burke’s place to check on Erin a while back.”

  “That’s funny because Erin’s been taken ill in town. She’s on her way here right now. Anne wasn’t there and her car’s not in the lot.”

  “Maybe she’s on her way back?”

  There was a knock on the door and Elle-May got up to answer it. Max Koneg entered the room and walked up to Eastman. He had that look on his face; the one that always meant trouble.

  “Brad, sorry to bother you. I just come up with Ben Burke.”

  Eastman shifted forward in his chair, looked at the man and nodded his head.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well it’s probably nothing but we got to talking and he said that there was two of them fellas up at his farm not one. Just thought you should know.”

  Eastman shot a worried glace at Elle-May and got up from his seat.

  “Reckon I’d best look for Anne. Max, you stay in town. Son, you’re the only lawman I got.”

  Eastman nodded his head and left the room.

  ****

  The group had been walking for hours over the increasingly rough ground and the going was getting worse. As the incline gradually transformed to a near vertical rock face, George Lee indicated the point where they’d need to turn off to join the air base track. Murphy watched Lee clamber up the steep embankment towards the track. As Lee reached the hill he looked over his shoulder beckoning the others to follow, then disappeared from view.

  Ross Murphy trudged along behind the others with his hands thrust deep in his pants pockets, like a scolded child, every once in a while muttering and cursing to himself. It didn’t bother him none that Tony had given Lee the navigator’s role; it was less for him to do. Anyways, all this damn walking was getting too much like hard work. It was no good everyone blaming him for getting them lost, when it was Tony that’d changed the route. He took quick stock of the others. Lee had been striding ahead over the rough, rocky path like a goat, but then nothing ever seemed to faze the guy. A way behind him was Tony Firth, still trying to be the leader, but now he was dragging his tired butt along.

  McDowall was finding the going tough but Murphy knew that the ‘big man’ couldn’t lose face in front of the others – especially Miguel. Miguel had been lucky to steer clear of McDowall on this expedition so far, which was just as well. The little Mexican was smart, maybe smarter than they gave him credit for, but not smart enough to avoid being mixed up with Firth.

  Billy Boy was just the gofer, plain and simple. He did anything Firth told him to do. But Hardman, now he was something else, he was a real odd fish. Talk was that good old Tony had some serious dirt on him. That was Tony all over, that’s how he bought loyalty.

  As they began their steep ascent, Lee suddenly appeared and called down to them.

  “Mr Mayor, you’d best take a look at this.”

  One by one, the group clambered up the incline and stepped onto the summit. The tree-covered wilderness stretched out in all directions as far as the eye could see. The road was a patchwork of broken tarmac; it was hard to remember that this had once been one of the town’s main roads.

  Lee was crouching looking hard at the road. Firth and the others walked over and looked down at the same area. Lee was pointing to a reddish section of the surface. However, it was the blood-stained pink sweater that caught their attention.

  “That there Mr Mayor,” said Lee pointing at the shaded ground “is blood. This here area’s covered in it.”

  Irregular patterns of congealed blood dotted the area as if somebody had splashed red paint all over it. It was obvious there’d been a violent struggle fought here; its aftermath spread the whole width of the road.

  Firth reached down to take the sweater.

  “Who’s...?”

  “I know who that belongs to; she was in my store buying tent pegs a few days back. Jehna Galway,” said Danny Hardman, dipping his head sadly.

  Firth dropped the garment like a hot coke and be
gan to shout. “Conrad! Conrad!”

  Lee sprang up and stood directly in front of Firth. “Hush up there, Mr Mayor.”

  The blood rushed to Firth’s head and he felt sick to his stomach. This was unlike anything he’d experienced before. When his old man died, Firth had gone through the motions of the grief-stricken son; done what was expected of him. The truth was, he’d waited a long time for the moment when he, Tony Firth, was the head of the family. He didn’t want to lose Conrad. He had to find him.

  “George, Conrad’s out there someplace. I gotta find him. Do you understand?”

  “Reckon so. Whoever done this likely done the camper. I reckon they’re sure to be about.”

  “We gotta call this in,” said McDowall, striding up to Firth. “This whole damn thing’s gone too far.”

  “Guys!”

  Billy Boy’s whiney voice scratched through the air from the opposite side of the road. The others looked over at him standing near the edge of the road, a few yards away. He was looking down at something over the edge. Lee walked briskly over with the others following at his heels. As they reached Billy Boy, Miguel Bonzzoni was the first to speak.

  “Sweet Mother of God!”

  Miguel struggled to take the gruesome picture in. Far below lay the body of a man, dashed on the jagged rocks. Nearby, were the dismembered remains of at least one other body, but it was difficult to tell. Miguel could make out a leg and what was possibly a chunk of torso and maybe a head. He’d never expected to see this kind of thing here, not in Montana.

  As a kid he’d managed to avoid the gangs and cartels back in Mexico. A lot of his friends had not been so lucky, but his father had been a carpenter, a good honest trade. Miguel worked with him and there’d been no time for all that. One day they’d stumbled across an execution site, the childhood memories of mutilated bodies once again filled his head.

  His parents had moved to Armstrong to get away from such things. His sense of horror was soon replaced by fear and desperation. Could Lee be right? Was the person who’d committed these acts still around? For all the talk from the ‘big men’ they were defenceless and alone.