Empty World: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller (Empty Bodies Book 7)

by Zach Bohannon

  Ray marched toward his man and pushed him away from Shell. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “She can’t talk to us like that.”

  “Hit her again, and I’ll fucking kill you. You got that?” Ray was inches from the man’s face.

  “Yeah, dude. Chill.”

  Ray turned to Shell. She held her cheek, trying to rub away the pain.

  “And if you spit on me again, I’ll do things to you that you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmare. Do you understand me?”

  Shell acknowledged him only with a slight nod. The crooked smile returned to his face.

  “Look around,” Ray said to his men. “See what all you can find.” He then looked to a man in his twenties with blonde hair. “Cody, I want you to head back and tell the others what we found. In the meanwhile, Miss Bad Ass here is gonna give me a tour through the house, then around town.” He gestured to the man holding the boy. “Stay out here with him.”

  The other men scattered, including Cody, who jumped on his horse and raced across the yard to the highway. Ray grabbed Shell’s arm and led her up the porch and into the house. They entered the front room.

  “Damn, girl. Look at this place. You’ve been staying here all by yourself? Really?”

  Shell didn’t respond, and the smile left Ray’s face again.

  “I didn’t want to have to show you this, girl, but you’ve left me no choice.”

  He reached to his back, under his jacket, and pulled out a handgun. Shell hadn’t seen someone fire a gun since she’d been a little girl. The town had run out of ammo long ago, back when seeing Deads had been a more regular thing. She stared at the gun in the man’s hand. Again, his smile returned.

  “I’m sure that, even at your age, you know what this is and what it can do.”

  “You’re lying,” Shell said, a tremble in her voice. “I’ll bet that thing doesn’t even fire.”

  Ray pointed the gun at her, stopping inches from her forehead. “You want to find out?” He moved his thumb, and the gun clicked. “That was the sound of a bullet going into the chamber. It’s my last one, and I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. All I have to do now is pull this trigger, and we can see just how much of a liar I am.”

  Sweat collected on Shell’s brow. Her body quaked, but she didn’t allow herself to cry or for her hard gaze to leave the man. He tilted his head.

  “You’re a tough girl.” He lowered the gun. “I have to say that I admire that. Now are you going to be polite and show me around, or not?”

  Shell continued to stare at him. Knowing she had no other choice, she led him into the kitchen first.

  “Don’t try anything stupid. I promise I’ll shoot you before you can even turn around.”

  Stopping in the kitchen, Shell turned around. Ray studied the room for a moment before rummaging through the cabinets and drawers. Most of them were filled with dishes Shell hardly used. He looked in the pantry where Shell kept some of the food she had harvested and then canned. He grabbed a jar of corn and turned around.

  “You did all this yourself?”

  Shell nodded.

  Still holding the jar in his hand, Ray went to her.

  “You better not be lying to me about being the only one here. Because if you are, I’m going to make you watch them die before I kill you.”

  “It’s just me. I swear.”

  He raised an eyebrow before turning around and returning the jar to the pantry.

  “You patched the boy up with bandages and peroxide. Where did you get those things from? I didn’t see them in the cabinets.”

  Shell averted her eyes, staring down at the linoleum tile. Her food, medicine, and everything she had collected over the years would soon be gone. She dreaded starting over but knew there was no way this ended without the men overtaking her house and keeping all the things here for themselves.

  “Tell me,” Ray said, snapping Shell out of her thoughts.

  “They’re in a closet upstairs.”

  He stood up straight, sticking out his arms and grinning. “Perfect! I was just thinking we should head up there.”

  Ray followed Shell up the stairs. Her heart raced as she continued to ponder what her life would be like once these men took her house over. If they let her go, where would she go? She couldn’t stay there. Without her home, she’d have no milk from her goats. No eggs from her chickens. No fresh vegetables to eat.

  When they reached the closet door, Shell stopped.

  “Is this the one?” Ray asked.

  She turned around to him, tears forming in her eyes for the first time. “Please don’t take my things. They’re all I have to survive.”

  Ray put his hands on his hips. “I guess you’ll just have to find another way to survive then, won’t you?”

  “I’ve worked so hard to gather things from all over the town. There’s nothing left. I’ll die.”

  “Everything you’ve worked for: it’s ours now. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it’s going to be.”

  He went to move past her, but Shell blocked the door.

  Ray tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “Don’t do this. You’re not going to win.”

  “I can’t let you take my food and my medicine. My home.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Now, move.”

  He grabbed her shoulder to push her away, and Shell bit the top of his hand. Ray let out a gut-wrenching scream as Shell felt the warm blood gather around her lips. She released her teeth and then pushed him aside as she ran for the stairs.

  Shell plowed through the front door only to find the other men gathered at the bottom of the porch stairs. When she turned around again, Ray was coming through the living room, and he threw the screen door open nearly hard enough to break it off its hinges. Teeth gritted, he let go of his wounded hand and grabbed Shell by the back of her shirt. Without a care, he pushed her down the stairs.

  Shell tumbled, landing on her hands and knees at the bottom of the porch steps. She writhed, rolling onto her back. Boots creaked down the wooden porch steps and, when she looked up, Ray stood above her, blocking out the sun as he pointed the gun at her.

  “You stupid bitch. I told you not to try anything. But you couldn’t listen, could you?”

  “I won’t let you steal everything I've worked so hard for! This is my home!”

  Lowering the gun, Ray let out a small laugh. “No, you won’t.” He looked over at his men. “Take her and the boy to the barn and tie ‘em up.”

  Two men grabbed Shell under her arms and picked her up. She tried to shake them off, but they were too strong for her.

  “Let me go!”

  The men ignored her protests. One of them pulled some rope from a bag and tied her arms behind her back.

  “You bastard!” Shell yelled at Ray.

  Ray rolled his eyes. “Shut her up while you’re at it, please.”

  Shell was about to scream when her mouth was filled with a disgusting taste. It tasted like she was eating dirt as one of the men shoved a sock into her mouth. She tried to fight the men off again, but it was useless.

  They dragged her across the yard where another member of the gang was standing with the boy. They’d tied his arms up, as well.

  Shell struggled all the way to the barn, but it was futile. The men shoved her and the boy inside, sending them both to the ground. They slammed the doors behind them and leaving Shell and the young boy in the dark.

  “If you ever want out, I recommend keeping your damn mouth shut!”

  Hyperventilating, Shell screamed a muffled cry into the sock as the men walked away.

  6

  Shell stared through the cracks in the barn doors as all but one of the men walked away. She heard them all laughing and exchanging high-fives.

  “Look at this place, boys! And it’s all ours!”

  The remaining man stood in front of the door, seemingly to make sure Shell and the boy didn’t try to escape.

  Shell spit the sock out of
her mouth, then turned to the boy who sat beside her. It was too dark for her to see his face, but she knew he was still sitting next to her.

  “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Even in a desperate situation such as this, the boy still refused to talk.

  “Are you all right? How’s your leg?”

  Still, the boy said nothing. Shell held in her frustration.

  He’s fine. He’s breathing, and that’s all that matters. If he were hurt, he wouldn’t be able to help but make noise.

  Shell pulled her hands apart, but the rope held them in place. The man had known what he was doing and bound her wrists with a good knot. She wasn’t going to be able to break out of it.

  There has to be another way.

  “Hey, Sean, come over here for a minute. They aren’t coming out of that barn any time soon.”

  Shell looked through the cracks in the door again and saw the man who’d been standing outside step away from the barn and go toward the house.

  This is my chance.

  Her mind shifted to cutting the ropes. If she wouldn’t be able to pull out of the knot, maybe she could find something inside the barn that would be sharp enough to cut them.

  Shell looked around the dark space, picturing what all was inside. She remembered she had left her ax lying in the corner.

  “I think I might be able to get us out,” she said to the boy. “Stay here and don’t move.”

  Shell managed to get to her feet, though it was difficult without being able to use her hands. She’d made it halfway to the rear corner of the barn when she heard laughing outside. Shell paused. But the laughter was far away, close to the house.

  They aren’t coming back here right now. They’re too occupied with the house. Just keep moving and try to get out of here.

  The back corner of the barn was even darker than the rest of the space, making it that much more difficult to see. Luckily, Shell knew every inch of the barn like the back of her hand. She turned around and slid across the wall, moving her hands around to search for the tool. When she was almost all the way in the corner, she found the handle.

  “Got it,” she said to herself, smiling.

  The smile quickly disappeared when she thought about how she would use the ax to break free. The ropes were thick. How was she going to get enough leverage to cut through them?

  She moved the ax into the corner where the walls met so that it wouldn’t shift around. Then she sat down in front of it. Being careful not to cut herself, Shell sat down and found the ax’s blade. She ran the ropes up against the edge and moved her hands up and down. But each time she pressed down, the ax moved. After only a couple of times applying pressure, the ax fell over. On the way down, the handle hit a metal bucket, making too much noise.

  Sweat flooded Shell’s brow. She got to her feet, balancing on her weak knees, and hurried back over to where the men had placed her.

  They’re going to know I tried to cut my ropes, and they’re going to kill us. I know it.

  In the crack under the doors, Shell saw two feet appear outside. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but it was useless. She would lie and say something fell over, but they wouldn’t believe her. Furthermore, they wouldn’t be able to trust her. And why would they waste time having one of the men look after her and the boy when they could just kill them?

  She closed her eyes and thought of everyone she’d lost. It seemed as if she was going to finally get her wish and see them again, though it would be much sooner than she’d anticipated.

  “What the fuck?” someone called out.

  Then there was a scream.

  “Shit!” another man said.

  Another scream came, and this time Shell also heard the sound of someone being hit with something.

  Shell jumped to her feet then.

  “Come on,” she said to the boy. “We need to hide.”

  Though the boy didn’t respond vocally, he followed Shell’s instructions. They were heading for the back of the barn when a bullet came through the barn door, leaving a hole which allowed some light to shine through.

  “Get down!” Shell said, diving to the ground.

  She felt vulnerable, unable to cover her head as the fighting outside continued. Men screamed and cursed along with it.

  Then, finally, all was silent. The fighting stopped, and all Shell could hear were the breaths of her and the boy, as well as the goats panicking.

  Heavy footsteps marched across the dirt outside of the barn. The sun stopped coming from the bullet hole in the door as it was covered by a figure who’d approached the barn.

  The barn doors creaked as they opened, and a silhouette appeared in the doorway. Shell squinted her eyes, trying to see the man, but the sun cast a shadow of him. She could tell from his trench coat and shoulder-length hair under a cowboy hat that he wasn’t one of the men who’d been with the gang. He held a sword in one of his hands.

  The man said nothing as he walked into the barn. He stopped when he made it halfway over to Shell and the boy.

  “We weren’t with those men,” Shell said. “They trapped us in here. Please, just let us go.”

  Without replying, the man moved closer to her and raised his sword. Shell shook, retreating backward.

  “Please,” she said. “I promise we will just leave if you’ll let us go.”

  The man walked behind her, and Shell tried to turn so that she’d remain facing him.

  “Stay still,” he said in a gruff, demanding voice.

  She felt the blade cutting through the rope, and then her hands were free. Shell massaged her wrists as she looked at the man. He went to the boy and cut the ropes off of him, as well.

  “Thank you,” Shell said.

  The man didn’t respond as he returned his sword to the sheathe. He only glanced at her, and for the first time, Shell got a good look at his face. His beard had more salt than pepper, and he had a scar under one of his slate blue eyes.

  He didn’t smile once as he turned around and walked out of the barn.

  7

  Shell used her hand as a visor to shield her eyes as she walked out of the barn. But nothing could keep her from seeing the scene before her.

  Three bodies lay in the yard in pools of their own blood, still and lifeless. Another hung limply over the banister on the front porch. A fifth man sat against the side of the house, slumped over with his white shirt stained crimson.

  Everyone was dead.

  Everyone except the mysterious long-haired man in the duster.

  And then she noticed someone else was missing.

  “Where is the leader? The guy with the stringy black hair. His name was Ray.”

  The drifter turned around without saying a word and walked away. He headed for the road.

  “Wait a minute.” Shell jogged after him.

  The man continued walking and didn’t turn around. Shell reached out to grab his arm but only found the empty sleeve of his coat. Turning around, he grabbed her by the wrist, startling her.

  Shell looked into his angry, bright eyes, then down to his hand holding onto her still sore wrist. Her eyes went to the other sleeve of his coat then, and she noticed there was no hand protruding from it. She looked back up at him and he let her go without saying anything. He turned around and started away again.

  “You didn’t answer my question. What happened to the guy with the black hair?”

  “He got away on the one horse that didn’t run when the fight started.”

  Shell narrowed her eyes. She caught up with him again and stood in front of him, blocking his path.

  “You can’t just leave. I haven’t even had the chance to thank you yet.”

  “No need. Now please, move.”

  Shell stayed put, crossing her arms. The man sighed and altered his path to walk around her. Shell slid over, blocking him each time he tried.

  “Get out of my way, girl.”

  “No. You think I’m just going to let you leave after all th
is?”

  “Yes. And I suggest you do the same before they come back here.” He walked past her, this time pushing her out of the way as he walked by.

  “I’m not leaving here. I can’t. This is my home.”

  “That’s on you then.”

  Still frustrated and unsatisfied, Shell caught up with him again. Like before, she stood in his path. This time, he let out a heavier sigh. Before he could speak, Shell cut in.

  “I’m not going to let you leave until you let me thank you.”

  “You already did. Now move.”

  “That’s not how I thank people. Especially for doing the kind of thing you did. Let me at least get you some food and let you rest here for a while.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “What are you going to eat out there? It doesn’t look like you have anything on you to put in your belly. And you look like you need rest to me.”

  “I manage.”

  “Yeah, well, for once, why don’t you let someone treat you? You might as well because I’m just going to keep stepping in your way until you agree.”

  “Maybe I’ll do to you what I did to them.”

  Shell scoffed. “I don’t think you would have let me out of the barn just to do that.”

  “If I’d known you were going to annoy the piss out of me, then I might have left you in there.”

  “Come on. I’ve got fresh vegetables, eggs, even goat’s milk. I know you’re not going to eat like that if you hit the highway again.”

  The man looked past Shell to the road. He glanced up to the sky next, checking where the sun sat. Then he shook his head and turned around toward the house.

  Shell smiled. “Good choice. I promise that you won’t regret it.”

  It was like watching pigs eat. Literally.

  And Shell knew how pigs ate. Up until eight months ago, she’d had three of them. They had, unfortunately, gotten sick and died only a couple of weeks after first showing symptoms.

  Now, the one-armed man and the boy tore into the dinner she’d prepared for them in a way that reminded her of the deceased animals.