I picked up my crowbar "What happened? Where are the guys?" She turned to me, and I could clearly see the surprised terror on her features.
"I-I don't know. I was just talking with my Doug, a-and all of a sudden we heard gunfire!" She unclutched her hands, and I could clearly see the kitchen knife in her grasp. "The boys ran out to see what it was. I-I just don't understand! It was so calm a minute ago…" From how she was acting, I could tell this didn't happen often.
My first day here and already something has gone wrong. I just hoped it wasn't because of me.
With the crowbar in my hands, I peered outside. Doug and Aaron were nowhere to be seen. Afraid, but careful, I took a step out on the porch.
More gunfire came from the side of the house, where the well was. I turned back to Olive. "Stay in here, ok?" Before she had time to answer, I shut the door on her. Sticking to the wall, I took a few steps at a time.
A yell came from the other side of the house. It was a male's voice, but it didn't sound anything like Doug's. His was old and raspy from long term smoking. This voice sounded young, also like it was around my age. This made me quicken my footsteps
When I got to the corner, I heard the deafening screech. Only one being could make that dreaded noise. At this moment, I began to fear for Aaron's life, not knowing where he was and the possibility that he might be shot and even killed began to frighten me.
My heart raced and I was panicking, also realizing that Doug was with him, most likely, and that would mean he would be in danger too. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, before peering around the corner.
My heart stopped when I saw the flailing body on the ground, but it escalated when I realized who was on top of it.
"AARON!"
I shouted across the yard, but my voice went unheard…or ignored. Aaron's arms moved rapidly, so swift it was almost a blur. Skin and blood were being flung to the sides, turning the dirt into mud and the grass red. I heard someone else shouting his name, and found Doug leaning on the side of the house, a blood trail leading down the side of his leg.
Was he shot? Just grazed? I ran over, steering far clear of the rampaging Leaper. "What happened? Are you ok?" He huffed, letting his shotgun drop to the ground and put a hand over his leg. He slumped to the ground and I crouched to meet his height.
"How bad are you?" I had to speak louder than I normally would. Aaron's screeching was still echoing in the air. He looks up, and grinned painfully. "It's times like these that I really need a cigarette" He chuckled, wincing. Looking him over, the bullet had only grazed him.
He'll live; I repeated in my mind, he'll live. "We need to get you inside-" "Bub, you need to stop your boyfriend before he turns that poor fool into one of my wife's meatloaf." He pushed me away. "I can make it on my own, stop him."
I pushed some more for me to help him, but he still insisted on moving by himself. Pulling him up so he could limp, he leaned on his shotgun, staggering to the front of the house. I spared him one last worried glance before turning to Aaron.
The body was long gone, dead. It wasn't hard to tell, since the face and chest had been almost completely clawed beyond recognition. What scared me the most was the fact that Aaron was still angrily attacking, showing no signs of slowing.
I was afraid to approach, but I had a feeling it will be a long while unless I did something to stop him. "…Aaron?" I spoke softly, not wanting to startle him and having attack me too. He continued to tear, wild snarls escaping his mouth as the victim laid unmoving.
"Aaron!"
I called his name louder this time, hoping somehow he would associate the word with himself and give full attention to me. He didn't.
"AARON"
At this point, I was right behind him, steadily getting closer with each step. He faltered and I held my breath and my crowbar to my chest.
He was panting I realized, either exhausted or angry to the point of being exhausted. Slowly, he climbed off the corpse glared at it, as if he still wasn't finished. Not once had he looked in my direction.
I hesitated, wondering whether or not I should run inside and check on Doug, or if I should do something to try and identify the body. It could be an infected, but even if it was, then who yelled earlier? Infected feel pain, I remembered.
But this body wasn't infected. While their face and chest was severely mutilated, I could tell that the skins on the hands were near-untouched and they look to be perfectly healthy. No boils, no rash or any claws.
I leaned over the corpse, prodding it with my weapon. Just to be sure, you never know nowadays. It didn't stir. It wore some sort of uniform, that looked as if it had been taken cared for very well, it was hardly dirty, and didn't have any rips and tears in it. Aside from the ones that Aarons had just done.
Something glimmered in the corner of my eye and I spotted the ring around his finger. He was either married, or his wife was dead and he just decided to keep it. Part of me wanted the wife dead, it would be horrible to have your husband go out and never come back.
I noticed something else on the victim's hand, also like a tattoo on the back of it. Poking it to turn it over, I concluded that it was a tattoo, not just blood.
In red ink, it said CLEAN.
Clean? Like, as in non-infected? I had no idea, but this was something that needed more investigation. Aaron shuffled nearby, and I noticed him wiping off the gore on the grass, not like it was really doing him any good.
"We're going to have to wash your hands again"
He snarled in reply, more annoyed then angry now. Too bad, he isn't allowed to eat again until he washes his hands anyway. I noticed he was still slightly damp, and the blood that had washed off his hoodie before was back again. Shame.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up. Doug stood above me, with a bandaged leg and a determined look plastered across his features. "C'mon, Bub" He grumbled, no longer sounding like the sweet old man I met the other day. "We're going hunting'"
Chapter 13
The little nagging voice inside of my head warned me not to go, like I would regret it later. I stared down at the already rotting corpse at my feet, and took a glance to the still irritated Leaper beside it. "Are you sure it's a good idea to leave Olive alone?" I warned Doug. He nodded. "She's a big girl, besides, ain't nobody gonna come to my house and think they own the place just cause they gotta gun in their hands."
He was talking big, and looking tough with his burly stance and one of his last cigarettes hanging out the side of his mouth, but I could tell he was in much pain. "You can't go anywhere like this, you need medical attention." He blew me off with a puff of smoke to the face. "Ba, now Bub, I ain't as old as you think I am." He lifted his shotgun up in the air. "A man has gotta protect his family when the time comes, you see. There is no arguing in the matter-"
He cringed in pain, and began to fall. I reacted quickly, letting him lean my shoulders and started walking, almost dragging him towards the house. "No, you're not going anywhere until you get that leg taken care of." He mumbled under his breath, spitting out the cigarette and stepping on it as we walked. Using his shotgun and me as leverage, we made it to the porch.
Aaron had followed us, entering before I kicked the door shut behind us. Olive had dug out the rest of our supply together, including what I had in my back pack, which lay dumped out on the floor near the couch.
"C'mere and sit down you too, Doug let me see that leg of yours…" I could tell she was trying to remain calm as best as she could, but the urgency in her voice did not go unnoticed. I struggled to pull his weight over to the couch, where he sat down with a long sigh.
"Girls, I need to check the woods and look for them damned fools-" He was cut short. "In the shape you in, I'm surprised you ain't whining and screaming like you usually would do." Olive sassed, cleaning the wound.
There was no bullet in bone, just a tear through his jeans showed the long trail of the bullet's passing. What would have happened if he
had gotten killed? Olive would be all alone, and no doubt the blame would be on me, since this happens to be coincidental to my arrival here.
"There was more than one of them."
I was brought out of my inner musings to this statement. "More than one of them?" Olive asked "You mean as in Survivors? The one that shot at us." Doug nodded, lighting another cigar. "You know, I have pain killers in my bag somewhere…" I remember before I said to myself that I would only use them if it was important. Well, this was important
"Do you now, Bub?" He smiled "Should of told me earlier, I could of stolen those long ago." He chuckled, blowing smoke and ashes that fell into his beard. I attempted to smile, to make lighter of the situation. Rummaging through the very bottom of the bag, my palm closed around a cylinder object.
"Here" I handed them to Olive, thinking that if I gave them to Doug he would chug down the entire bottle. "Only take the recommended dosage." I told them. Olive nodded, opening the bottle and picking out two little blue pills. Doug just snorted at them.
"I meant what I said, there were at least two of them bucked back bastards."
Olive frowned. "Watch your language. Now drink" She held out the medication and a bottle of water in each hand. Doug took both gratefully, but before the pills even reached his mouth: "As soon as I take this, I'm leaving"
Crossing my arms, it was clear I was a little annoyed, if not slightly angry with him that he was ignoring me. The old man wasn't taking my advice to stay put. The only way for him to heal properly was for him to sit still, rest, and not stop worrying. But no, he was being a stubborn goof that would only get himself killed if I didn't do something.
"Doug, just…" Trailing off, I thought for a moment. "Listen, I'll take a look around the cabin. I know my way enough around and you need to stay put. Besides, whatever was out there, I highly doubt they'll comeback once they see what Aaron did to their little friend" Negotiation wasn't my best skill, but it was worth a shot.
At the sound of his name, Aaron's head snapped up. I caught the action out of the corner of my eye, and watched him go back to picking at the dried blood on his claws. He recognized the name, I realized, but did he know it was his?
"So, you just gonna waltz around the forest and ain't nothing gonna happen to ya? Bub, naw, that's a bad idea, you ain't going out there by yourself-"
"But I won't be alone!" I interrupted, and in response I received an impatient sigh. I may have sounded childish for a second there, but I had a point. "I'm taking Aaron with me!"
The Leaper once again looked up at the mention of his name, and this time I wasn't the only one who noticed it. He spared me a dull glance, giving a brief look towards the others. Olive and Doug both watched him as he resumed his claw picking. "He's getting smarter every day." Olive commented.
"Which is why you have nothing to worry about." This was a half lie. Yes, Aaron would be with me, but that doesn't guarantee that I'll be safe from harm just because he is close by. He may have saved me before, but that was a debt repaid. There was no way he would suddenly become a hero to my rescue. I'm not going to expect him to stay near at all times, anyway.
Even if we did happen to cross by any non-infected humans, he would only attack them given the nature of being a Leaper. It would have nothing to do with me.
Doug rolled his eyes. "This is silly, and yer actin' silly, Bub" He winced in pain, giving a silent glare to an apologetic Olive whom had just finished the wrapping around his thigh. Raising an eyebrow, I put a hand on my hip and glared. Mom used to use this tactic with Dad all the time when she didn't get her way, and I only hoped it would be as effective with me.
With a long, thoughtful sigh, he ran a hand through his beard, brushing the ashes out of it.
"Fine, but you stay near the cabin, you stay near your boyfriend, and I don't want you gone for more than twenty minutes. Got it, Bub?" Got it, Dad.
"He's not my boyfriend"
"Yeah, and I ain't black"
I huffed, but I couldn't stop the smile from forming on my face. "I'll be back before you know it." They both nodded as I headed for the door, as expected, Aaron followed. But I was stopped in my tracks. "Now, hold up. See the drawer next to the coat hanger. Yeah, that one. Open it up." He pointed in my direction to a dresser next to the door. I eyed it with confusion and curiosity.
I did what I was told and swung it open. Inside was a MR9 Eagle, in an unlocked glass case. I stared in awe, and this time Olive spoke to me. "Take it with you, dear. You never know what monsters could be lurking out in the woods." She said softly. "And sometimes, it's not always the infected."
Assuming that she's talking about the men that Doug apparently saw, this gave a clue that maybe this wasn't their first assault. I wasn't sure to feel relieved that it really wasn't my fault, or feel worried and fearful for the lives of my friends.
I smiled; taking the gun from its case and rotating in my hands. "Thanks, I'll be fine. Stay here and heal up, ok?" Doug stuck out his tongue in a mocking manner, and for a second I almost regretted giving him the strong pain reliever. Olive and I snickered, and I waved to her as I left.
I walked around to the side of the house, where the tattooed corpse still lay. Flies and maggots were starting to accumulate around the body and I made a note to myself to get rid of it somehow after I was done scouting.
Entering the trees and out of sight of the cabin, I walked carefully. Although I haven't seen any infected since we arrived here, it was still better to not take any chances.
The forest surrounding the area started getting thicker, and every moment or so I thought I could hear footstep, way off in the distance. Barely audible. It didn't sound like my own footsteps, I thought. The leaves beneath my feet would crunch as I walked and the sound I was hearing was nothing like that.
It's just the wind.
Above me, Aaron soared through the air from branch to branch, staying within close range of me. Briefly, I pondered on the thought of a Leaper who was afraid of heights. It would be as bad as a horse with hay fever. Did they still feel fear like us? Or did they just feel emotion when their life was in danger?
I thought about what had happened near the pump, the completely mutilated survivor and his strange tattoo on the right of his hand. Was he with a group? Maybe he truly didn't mean any harm, and thought the cabin was abandoned. If he was with a group, are they looking for him now? Would they even bother to look for him?
If something had happen to me and I had disappeared suddenly, there was no doubt that Aiden, Markus and Steve would search for me. Hell, they would tear down the whole city just to find me. I remember once we had scavenged an office and I had crawled underneath a desk to reach a medkit that was strangely placed there.
I was out of their sight for a matter of two moments, and they were yelling and shouting my name in an attempt to locate me. Needless to say, it was hilarious. I stayed hidden for another minute, listening to them freak and run about look for me. Yes, while it may have been childish, but we all laughed at the end.
Aiden had been standing directly in front of the office desk I was hiding underneath and he made the mistake of turning his back on it. I jumped up, and he screamed in response, and when I say screamed I mean screamed. Like a fat singing lady at the opera.
I was scolded, and even given a slap to the back of the head, but we were all smiling, all except for Aiden, who tried to redeem his manliness by killing as many infected as he could.
I miss them.
Something behind me moved, and by reflex I flung my gun up to its direction. A single common infected staggered slowly my way. Its clothes consisted of overalls, some boots and a black leather jacket. Similarly to the strange man's clothing back near the cabin.
Firing once, it hit him directly in the eye and he fell to the ground and laid still. The sound of leaves crunching behind me and a slight gush of wind on my back signaled that Aaron had landed. He crawled up to the dead infected and nudged him with a claw,
and then proceeded to lean down and sniff him.
Walking closer, I snapped in front of his face to gain his attention. "No, sniffing bodies is bad" I scolded him. "You have no idea where they've been" He hissed in my direction before continuing to sniff the body. But before I could snap at him again, he leaped back, hissing, not at me, but at the corpse.
Confused and a little bit intrigued, my mind went to the tattooed words on the other victim's hand. Using my crowbar this time, I turned his knuckles over so I could see.
There were words there alright, but not the ones I expected. Instead of CLEAN, there was a biohazard sign drawn instead. Was this some new trend that had become popular before the breakout and I just wasn't aware of it?
Aaron hissed again, and I turned to shush him. I stopped when I noticed that he was looking behind me, not at me. Turning my head to see what he was glaring at, I tensed. A woman stood strong less than ten feet away, and I wondered how I didn't hear her before.
She looked to be in her late 30's, with a grim look and a certain glint in her eyes. Something in those foam green irises made me feel like I was choking on air, like she was disgusted by my presence.
"You're either infected, or insane." The stranger held her pistol higher. "I kill both"
Reacting quickly, I went for a non-aggressive defense. Standing up, I raised both hands in the air, still grasping my gun. "I'm not infected or insane. I'm a survivor, like you…" She squinted her eyes, watching for any sudden movement. Aaron growled deeply, crouching into pouncing position, and suddenly her aim was on him.
"Yeah? So what's with your dog?"
Dog? Did she mean Aaron? "Don't shoot him…" I defended. I had to think fast, because I had a feeling that Aaron wasn't going to tolerate her presence much longer. "He's not like the others, just put down the gun and he won't do anything." I negotiated. The woman watched us closely, like she wasn't buying it. Was she the wife of the man who was killed near the cabin?
Walking Bodies Page 10
