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Walking Bodies

Page 8

by Durman, Jason


  As my thoughts were drifting, my eyes were getting heavy, drooping, until they were almost fully closed…

  "So what's his name?"

  This snapped me back to attention. "What?" Doug sighed, not liking to repeat himself. "What's his name Bub? You know, that thing your mama gives ya babes, and you go by it for the rest of ya lives?" He repeated sarcastically. I shrugged. "I never thought to give him a name; I've always just thought of him as…that 'Leaper' you know?" I answered, sneaking a glance at the other passenger. I wonder what he would say if he could communicate with us right now.

  Doug nodded, and didn't say anything else. This allowed me to go back to resting. But before I closed my eyes, I whispered something. "Thanks" The driver smiled, keeping his eyes on the road.

  Drifting off, I leaned my head onto the soft fabric of the Leaper's hoodie. He flinched at the sudden contact, but sat still as I slipped from reality. Somewhere in my mind, I noted that indeed, the truck did actually stink.

  I met a rude awakening with my head hitting the ceiling of the truck, and I cursed out loud in pain. The old man beside me tisked. "Bah, nowadays that's some of the only words you kids got in ya vocabulary. Ain't nobody say 'darn' or shoot' no more." He chuckled. I sheepishly rubbed my head. "Sorry, can't I get a pass this time?"

  Doug grinned. "If ya gonna curse, then curse like a sailor, because if you gonna talk dirty, then ya teeth will rot to match." I laughed at his statement. Even though I wasn't sure what it meant, it was still a pretty interesting quote.

  I shifted to look at the Leaper, whom was still staring out the dirty window. Did he ever wish he was outside? Leaping around in the fog, searching for his next meal. Or did he ever think about other things, like how badly his wound was hurting, how the truck smelt, or how hungry he was? Did he ever truly think at all?

  Okay, need to step out of the brooding zone. Too much gloom and heaviness could cause me to lose my head, and I did not want to go through that again.

  "So how did ya get here Bub? Looking for somebody?"

  I sighed, sloping back in my seat. "Yeah, something like that. But I was never planning on actually finding them so…" Doug gave me a raised brow, obviously listening, but keeping his eyes on the trail. Huh, that's weird. When did we get on a trail?

  Taking a deep breath, I began. "I was actually in a group, there were four of us, and we've been going from city to city in search of rescue, supplies, and just took stay away from the infected." I fumbled with my thumbs, rolling up the sleeves of my sweater in nervousness.

  Doug nodded, urging me to continue. "We were able to contact a military safe area with an old radio we had got working. But before they could get there, we were attacked by a horde. We held them off long enough for help to arrive, but we were caught by surprise and…" Remembering my friends face's stopped me in the middle of my sentence.

  I can still remember their expressions, how horrified they were, and how they were so eager to come after me. Do they still think of me now? Maybe still have a little hope that I had somehow survived and are looking for them?

  "Ya don't have to finish, if ya don't want to, Bub." Doug said. I could hear the concern in his voice. I shook my head. "No, it's ok. I was just pulled away from them by a Trapper and lived, but they were gone by then, so just came back into the city, that's all." I finished, rolling back up my sleeves and curling them around my fingers to keep them warm.

  Doug coughed, giving my story some thought. "I'm sorry about ya friends, Bub. Were they good to ya?" This made me giggle. "Yeah, they were kind of like my family. They made fun of me sometimes, but they protected me and praised me when I was really kicking ass! I miss them…"

  "Now, Bub, what did I say about that cursin'?"

  I snickered. "Sorry"

  .Tap.

  We both turned our attention to the other passenger in the vehicle. The Leaper was using his claw to tap on the window, the same annoyingly way he had done to me when I had shut myself inside the hotel. It gave me half the nerve to swat his hand away from the glass, but then I remembered how we were in a confined space, and he was stuck with me and a complete stranger who he didn't have a good first impression of, so I decided against it.

  "How about the boy? How didja meet him?"

  He was trying to kill me inside an attic of an old abandon cabin? Nah probably wasn't a good thing to say about him right now. I needed to make him sound a lot less…dangerous than he actually was, just in case Doug had any ideas of shooting him. So I went for a lot simpler explanation.

  "He was hunting me…" Wow, nice way to make him seem less dangerous.

  I coughed awkwardly. "What I meant to say was, He followed me into the forest outside of the city and got caught in a bear trap-"

  "Bear trap, you say?" He asked, interrupting me. I nodded and he sighed. "It was a bad idea to head into those woods, Bub. Those bear traps mostly likely weren't set out to catch no infected. They were set to catch people."

  All I could do was stare, confused by what he meant by that. Doug sighed. "You see, ain't nobody hunting bears no more, and it's too easy to just shoot a infected then have to go through all the trouble of setting up a trap for it, so them bear traps are for people."

  Bear traps for people? That can't be right, I mean, who would set up traps for humans when there were infected around? "Why would someone need traps for people? I don't understand the point-"

  "There are bad people out there who think they can use other human beings as bait, or as workers, slavers, and living test subjects for experiments to help develop a cure. I heard there were black markets full of slaves, of all colors, genders and age, all because of this damn apocalypse. Tell me, Bub, was that trap near where you and your friends called for rescue?"

  Speechless, I just nodded. Black markets? Healthy people trapping other healthy people? Humans being used as bait? As experiments? I thought people were supposed to band together to survive, now, I wondered what the safe area would have been if all of that has been going on.

  "Well, ya lucky you didn't get caught then, because if you had, you would have been found and sold, or eaten. But if you were found, most likely ya would have gotten eaten anyway, just in front of other healthy folk."

  Staring straight ahead though the windshield, I tried to manage all these thoughts inside my head. So, people now hunt other people to use for human experimentation, or bait? Bait for what? To catch infected? Well, that would make sense since they would need to study the infected to get a better understanding of it. But still, has the world really been driven to something this vile? Was it like this all over?

  "Why that boy got lady things strapped to his leg?"

  Now I had some real explaining to do.

  "Well, remember when I said he got caught in a trap? He got hurt badly, and I felt bad for leaving him alone, so I, uh, let him go. He followed me back and hasn't attacked me since, so um…" Doug was still waiting for a decent reason, but this time with a shit eating grin on his face.

  "He kept following me, and I ran into a Siren, but he sort of attacked her instead so-" Once again, I was interrupted. "He attacked a Siren?" He asked with disbelief. Nodding, I continued. "Yeah, and he got hurt really bad, and like before I couldn't just leave him there! So I patched him up with what I had, and um, yeah." Taking a deep breath, my lungs wished that I hadn't had said everything so fast.

  Doug released a loud, hearty laughter. "Of course he need to wear them little lady things when he gets in a cat fight with woman, ha!" He continued to laugh in a loud manner. While I thought his laughter was a change from the usual gloom, the Leaper on the other hand, didn't quite find the disturbance in his window staring time to be funny.

  He let out a low, rumbling growl, and Doug stopped immediately. Only to snicker at the Leaper's figure once more. "Gah, tell ya 'friend' here to shush up. He don't need to be telling me to be quieting down when he looking like a dumbass with the way his now." In response to his statement, the Le
aper growled once more, but less aggressive and more defeated this time.

  I laughed. "Don't worry; he's just messing with you." I wasn't sure who I was talking to, Doug or the Leaper, so I just let that be as it is. I leaned back with a smile, feeling goofy and a little hyper, either from the really weird conversation or the nap I had not too long ago.

  "That boy need a name, you can't just call him 'Leaper'. Ya know?" I agreed. In fact, the only way for me to identify him from any other Leaper was to look at the way that he acted, and to see the make-shift bandages on his leg. If I ever needed to call out to him, what would I say?

  "I can't think of anything." I admitted. "Can you?" Doug seemed like a pretty nice guy, why not let him choose his name? The dark skinned man chuckled. "We ain't naming no dog now, it's gotta be a decent name, Bub. Have you tried looking for a wallet on him? Maybe a license or something?"

  No, But I really don't want to stick my hands in any of his pockets to find out. But I tried anyway. The Leaper snarled softly at my close contact, but I ignored him since he wouldn't have done anything to hurt me anyway. I think he wouldn't, would he?

  Hoodie pockets: Nope. Front pants pockets: Nope. Back pants pockets: Not even gonna try. I raised my empty hands for show. "Didn't find anything." I curled my fingers back into my nice sweater. It was warm, very warm. I wonder why Doug had a woman's sweater in his truck.

  Doug smiled. "Okay, sure ya can't think of anything?" I shook my had no, sloping down in my seat again and curling my knees up to my chest, much like the Leaper was doing before. Except now he was relaxed, legs splayed out and head resting on the headrest, still glaring out the window. I almost wanted to snap my fingers next to his head to see what he would do.

  "Aaron."

  "Huh?" I raised a brow. Doug scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I had this grandson named Aaron, and that boy would give me hell, always bickering with his mother, and with me, but he was the sweetest boy any man could have." He smiled, probably thinking about said boy.

  I smiled in return. "I like it. Aaron…sounds pretty fitting." Doug didn't answer, just used a hand to pull out another cigarette. "Make sure he learns that name. It's his now, alright?" Swatting a few fumes of smoke out of my face, I nodded. But I was curious about something that I should have known better then to ask about.

  "What ever happened to your grandson?"

  Doug didn't answer, and his smirk faded, but came back as a sad smile.

  "I'll tell ya later, but you should really go back to sleep, Bub, it's going to be a while before we get home." Home? What home? His home? "Are you tired? I can drive, if you want." I offered. He shook his head. "Nah, Bub, get ya beauty sleep…and tell Aaron to stop taping on my window, it's giving me a headache." I swatted the Leaper's shoulder, and he rumbled in response and went back to tapping. I swatted him again and he took the hint.

  "Just let me know if you want me to drive, ok?" I told him. "Don't worry about it, I'm not gonna fall asleep, Bub, I ain't that old ya know." I giggled, wondering on how old he actually was. "How long is it going to take to get there?" I said 'there' instead of home, since his idea of 'home' could mean anything. It could even mean the black market he was talking about for all I know.

  "Long enough for ya to catch some Z's now get to sleeping." He nagged and I nudged him playfully before shifting to my side and closing my eyes. It was going to be difficult to sleep, with the smell of some in the air, tight space, and the fact that I had just taken a nap not too long ago.

  In an effort to get comfy, I leaned on one of their shoulders. He was very relaxed, and looked like he was on the verge of sleep himself. Carefully, I tried to rest on him without disturbing him, but failed. Aaron didn't flinch this time, but once again, let me have an annoyed, soft, short growl. It went silent and all I could hear was the truck's engine and tires moving across the trail.

  Chapter 11

  Warmth left my right side of the body and I fell across the seat, waking up. I adjusted my blurry vision to see Doug holding the truck door open, grinning at me and Aaron, whom was happily crouched in the dirt, obviously grateful to not be confined anymore.

  Moaning, I sat up and stepped out. Taking a deep breath, I felt something unfamiliar enter my lungs. I have spent so much time in a diseased-ridden city, filled with trash and corpses that I had completely forgotten what true fresh air was.

  It felt good, until I smelled smoke and frowned at the sight of Doug lighting another roll-up. "Why do you have so many cigarettes?" I asked, swatting the disgusting fumes out of my face, trying to conserve my precious air. Doug laughed. "They take the stress away, but no, you ain't getting one."

  I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't going to ask for one." Doug shrugged, shutting the door. Taking in my surroundings, we seemed to be in the woods again, but this one different than before. Instead of tall, over hanging trees, there were short trees, and a lot of stumps.

  "Where are we?" I asked, stepping over the Aaron, still making love to the dirt. Ok, not really, but he sure looked like he was enjoying himself. "Still on the trail, Bub. I hope you don't mind walking." He answered, gesturing towards a trail that led even deeper into the forest.

  I shrugged. "But what about the truck?" "It'll be fine, ain't nobody gonna come and steal my ride. Now c'mon" He pointed to my cookie monster backpack, that lay still in the floor boards. My stomach rumbled at the thought of the food zipped and hidden away and I realized how hungry I was.

  "Grab that and get a move on. We got walkin' to do." He hoisted his shotgun up on his shoulder, waiting. Nodding, I reached in for my bag, positioning it comfortably. There was a little hook attached to the bag, probably used to hold pencil bags. I somehow managed to ring my crow bar inside of it so it hanged from the bag. "Ready"

  He acknowledged my response, before giving a light kick to Aaron. "You coming boy?" Aaron growled lightly, but it was difficult to take him seriously when half of his face was filthy. Leaning down, I snapped my fingers in front of his face to gain his attention. He turned to face me sharply, confused.

  Smiling, I walked away with Doug in the direction of the trail. Needless to say he took the hint, and caught up, slouching by my side opposite of Doug. The old man chuckled lightly. "Cute"

  I grinned. "You wish you had a guard dog like me, huh?"

  He playfully blew a puff of smoke in my face, and I swat it away. I wonder how long has he been using those dreaded cancer sticks. I rubbed the front of my sneakers on the back of my pants, trying to clean off what little I could. My pants would be nasty, but I don't want dirt in my socks.

  "So…Where are we going to?"

  "Haven't you been listening, Bub?" I shook my head no. I don't remember him saying anything about our actual destination, since I pretty much slept the entire ride.

  "I got a safe place; me and my wife are secluded there, alone. Not a lot of infected in those parts." "You never mentioned you had a wife, what's she like?" He thought for a second. "Olive? Eh, she just a sweetheart, you'll like her for sure. I'm sure she won't mind another mouth to feed, if you can keep ya self, mind you."

  I grinned. "I promise I won't take advantage of you. Besides, it would really suck to be alone anyway." He nodded, eyeing my other travel companion. "Maybe, but since ya got ya boyfriend here I wouldn't think that would have been a problem for ya."

  Rolling my eyes, I slapped his arm good-naturedly. "He's not my boyfriend, and ew." Doug chuckled, the ashes from his cigar falling into his matching color beard. "We're getting close now, I can already smell the barbeque."

  Barbeque? They had barbeque? My mouth was started to run waterworks, and images of the delicate meat filled my mind. Judging by Doug's reaction, my sudden increase in appetite did not go unnoticed.

  Neither did Aaron's either. The Leaper sniffed the air, suddenly aware of the wonderful aroma of said food. He must have been really hungry, because he was starting to get a bit ahead of us. I snapped out of my own hunger educed dazed, and called out his name.<
br />
  "Aaron!"

  He didn't hear me, maybe I wasn't loud enough?

  "Aaron!"

  To my disappointment, he didn't respond to my cry. Instead, kept inching forward away from us. Staring at his moving form in confusion, I felt a tap on my shoulder. "He don't know his own name yet, and he'll learn it later, but we need to catch up before my girl shoots him." He stated, speeding up his pace.

  That's right; his wife would probably react to Aaron as if he was just another infected if he gets there first. That would NOT be a good first impression at all. Hoisted my bag up higher, I matched his speed.

  A house revealed itself among the trees. Old looking, more of a wooden lodger then a house but still stood out from the forest. The stubby trees had gotten thicker and closer the further down the trail we went.

  It looked very inviting, actually. Kinda like that old Grandma's house in the woods in the fairytale 'Little Red Riding Hood'. The smell was strong, and I took a big whiff of it, enjoying it.

  Doug ran ahead of the leading, crawling Leaper. He made it took the front porch, a hand on the door knob and a finger pointing at Aaron, who was sitting on the steps, waiting for the right moment to attacked whatever had the delicious food that he could detect.

  "Keep him hush, and stay here, I'll be right out." And with a nod, he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him, fast enough to where Aaron couldn't follow him, obviously.

  The Leaper winced at the loud noise of the wood slamming, and backed away from the door. I sat next to his crouched person on the stairs prodded his shoulder until I could get his attention. "Now, Aaron, behave yourself." He looked away and I had to poke him again to keep his attention.

  Using a parent/teacher/authority like voice, I tried to sound as simple as possible. "These nice people are taking us in, offering food and a safe place to sleep. So attacking or attempting to eat either of them will result in us being kicked out, or worse, me or you being shot. Understand?"

 

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