by Hamrick, R M
Audra noticed the zoms all carried weapons, despite the assurance that they could not possibly use them. They were too clumsy and uncoordinated as zombies. Was it just a scare tactic?
She wouldn’t believe it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. One of the zombies, a man with a rectangular face and a crew cut pulled a grenade from his belt, released the pin, and rolled the explosive along the ground ahead of their attack.
Audra and her friends scattered to avoid it.
“Is this real?” asked Ryder as the grenade came short of them and exploded into dust, sticks, and stones. It wasn’t the best toss, but the fact that it could happen was amazing in itself.
And they were in danger.
The trio retreated back through the gates, which closed quickly on their tails, no request required. The guards, Marcos and Lionel, were seeing this too. Complex actions from zombies.
“I know you were ordered to come forward, but we don’t mean you all any harm,” called out Ryder through the gate. A shot in the dark. “We would like to trade. To learn. To understand.”
No response. No reaction.
Ryder tried another tactic. “JACK! JILL! Stop this madness! Please, let’s work together. Call off your soldiers.”
But they did not. They were nowhere to be seen.
Twenty or so encroached. The car-lined chain link fence would hold against twenty zoms. Hell, it would hold against fifty or more, but what kind of attack were they about to meet?
Despite having seen one up close, Audra still didn’t believe it. They must be humans posing as zombies to scare them, but Audra could see the purple veins webbing their gray faces. She saw the emptiness in their eyes. And she could see little issues with their stance, their swagger, their facial expressions. They might not be full-fledged zombies, but they weren’t full-fledged healthy humans either. They were some hybrid.
Audra called out to Marcos, who had a bow and quiver of arrows. He made eye contact - his eyes were wild with fear and confusion. She motioned to her own shoulder then chose a zom - a half zom? The half zom’s hair had been cut short - someone had given him a haircut - and he walked without concern for his wellbeing, as if he didn’t understand the significance of enemy lines. Audra wanted Marcos to hit him, but not in the head. Would it slow or stop him? Would it rile the group? Marcos gave a nod and took aim.
The arrow came from above into his shoulder, blasting through his clavicle. His shoulder slumped as he was knocked off balance, but he didn’t fall. Anyone would fall. Yet except for the long shaft emerging from his body, there was no other clue that the arrow had hit. She signaled again and another plunged into his chest, missing his heart. There was no evidence of pain, discomfort even, just a distraction - a slowdown. In the realm of weaponization they had all the benefits of zom and human - the ability to follow directions, perform complex movements, and the painlessness and fearlessness of zoms.
She gave permission to let arrows fly.
Regardless, the half zoms reached the fence and began to claw and climb. Audra grabbed several long spears stored near the fence for hordes. She passed them out to Dwyn and Ryder. The zoms moved fast but were not making perfect progress. Audra and her crew stood on the cars and started charging the spears through the fence. It was difficult to get an effective blow through their dense skulls, but strikes to the face or multiple jabs seemed to weaken their grip on the fences. They did not try to avoid the shots, as they were seemingly unaware of weapons, injury, or death. They climbed up and up then fell with the spears.
“Let’s save one,” whispered Ryder. Ryder was right; Satomi would want to study it. They would need to know if they could be cured. An awakened soldier might tell them what they were and where they were from. New Tennessee, my ass.
With just one remaining, Audra signaled to have the gate open. With the creak of the gate, the zom dropped from his position two-thirds up the fence. He hit the ground, planting both feet, his knees bent to soften the landing. It appeared his directive was to enter in the most efficient way possible. When it was easier to walk in, he stopped climbing.
Audra recognized him as he approached the fence. It was the one she had tied up in the woods. So, that was the way they had come. They had found it and untied it. He must have been a scout. Audra kicked herself for not having realized it, but since when were zombies scouts?
Audra and the two gave him a wide berth. She didn’t spot any grenades on him, only a knife. He pulled it from its sleeve and stood in a defensive position without approaching them. Maybe he only had orders to enter? Maybe he was waiting for his comrades? Audra was not sure.
Ryder walked into his visual range.
“Hi. I’m sorry we had to hurt your friends. We can’t suffer an attack here. Who are you? What is it you want?”
There was no answer, just a blank stare. Brainwashing? Was there a trigger?
“Look,” said Dwyn, “we don’t want to hurt you. Drop the knife and let’s talk. You can be safe here.”
Another blank stare. His dark gray eyes barely followed their movements. His mouth hung open slightly, revealing bloody teeth.
Audra sneaked behind in an attempt to disarm him, but as she approached, he swung around and hit her with a strong arm, knocking her off balance. She staggered. Audra realized she had little advantage here. He was a soldier, and Audra was small and used to chasing around dummies. But it didn’t matter, this guy had to be taken down. She went in again, but someone pushed her to the side. It was Dwyn. He grabbed the half zom’s knife hand and wrestled with it. Audra’s eyes flashed with anger at his protective stunt. She pulled herself up and took the opportunity to punch the half zom in the jaw, releasing some of her frustration. The jaw did not give as she had hoped. He was not rotting; he just looked it.
Both Dwyn and the zom ended up on the ground. Audra’s vexation melted into worry for Dwyn. Her mom’s cut and seeping infection flashed in her mind’s eye, making it difficult to see the situation now. Her eyes watered and her heart began to pound from her chest. She pushed forward to Dwyn, trying to distance herself from the memories. Together they pulled the knife from the zom’s hand and subdued him.
Audra called for rope. He was a large man and they wouldn’t be able to hold him for long. As she called, someone else called, too. Audra looked up at the noise coming from the woods. A snapping. A snapping of many fingers. Audra did not like the sound of this. A goodbye or a hello?
It was a hello.
Another forty zoms came sprinting from the woods. No longer walking, they took long, fast strides to the fences and gave a jumping start to reach the top. With Audra and Dwyn distracted, their prisoner punched free and ran back to the gate. He began climbing toward the guards who controlled the gate. Damn. Was this their plan all along?
Audra called for her own help. She wanted to hesitate. Her citizens were not fighters. They were just survivors. But they knew the dangers of living out here in the isolation. She stood in the plaza and yelled for others to come with weapons and to fight.
Audra took off to the gate, but the two above waved her off. They could handle this intruder. Arrows came flying into the plaza.
“No! Shoot the ones outside the fences. I’ll get this one,” Audra called out, pissed that she had fallen for their trap and had let this one in.
How she would handle him, she didn’t know. He was bigger and stronger, but she did have his knife and she could run. She sprinted hard and fast and tackled his legs. She sliced into his Achilles tendon, causing his leg to buckle. She cut into the other then pulled high. Audra breathed a sigh of relief as he fell down, the knife landing in the small of his back. Another frantic move left it in his neck. Blood spouted and she rolled off.
But he rolled too. He yanked the knife from his neck and approached Audra with it. He at least swaggered with the blood loss. Audra pulled out her own knife from her belt and hunkered into a protective stance. She watched the blood course. She only had to buy time before he fell again, but that s
ame blood covered her too. Would it make her sick? He charged.
As he leapt, he fell at Audra’s feet. Audra saw an arrow in his back from the guards above. She guessed Marcos hadn’t believed she had it handled. She was thankful. Had that arrow done him in or just pushed him over? Audra drove her blade where his head and neck met, to be sure.
She found her abandoned spear and turned her attention to the fence. Lionel and Marcos were having little luck keeping all the zoms at bay. Audra stabbed two in the stomach. They gushed like stuck pigs but if the wounds and blood loss slowed them down, it was imperceptibly so. At least the blood made their feet slip on the links of the fence. Audra would have to wait for them to come down, on either side. The barbed wire at the top of the fence was curled to keep out humans but Audra knew it would only tear these zoms. They would be slippery and covered in infectious material when they landed in the plaza.
Audra heard yells from above. Lionel fell from his top spot, an arrow in his chest, and landed on the other side of the fence. Immediately two half zoms leapt upon him and began feasting. An instinct or a command? Numbness swept through Audra as he was torn to bits. Dwyn squeezed her shoulder. This was not the time to freeze.
She called out to Marcos to take cover - a useless command, as he had already done so. She looked behind her and saw a few men timidly coming with kitchen knives. There were only a few to be counted as warriors. Branson came out with a sharpened machete. Tess’s white blond hair flashed in the sunlight. She grabbed a spear and began to attack those on the fences. Gordon emerged from the lab with his long knife. He sprinted to the fences and climbed up to meet the zoms at the top.
They were coming over the fences now. They landed firm-footed on the cars, leaving skin and clothes behind. One got caught by his belt and hung there. His head beat against the barbed wires as he tried to fight loose. Blood sprayed and bounced downward. Another approached Audra. This time she was ready. With her spear, she stabbed him in the eye, reaching into the brain. He stopped moving, then crumpled to the ground. Audra shook him loose and turned to find another.
“In the eye!” she yelled. She knew some of the others would not be as skilled, but it was better than stomach stabbing and jugular cuts that only doused everyone with infectious blood. Audra poked another from behind to get him to turn. His face was ripped open but Audra could still see his snarl. Into the eye she went, avoiding his knife swing, which was fairly accurate for his half blindness. Her spear sank farther in as he moved closer to her, jaw snapping as he died. He fell on top of Audra. His bloodied dead weight trapped her. The short spear dug into the ground, blocking one side. As she crawled her way out, she saw.
Ryder had lost her weapon and was frantically tripping backward in an attempt to gain some distance from a half zom about to overtake her. The zom’s blade shone and flittered as he quick-stepped his way to her.
Audra pulled her legs out from underneath as she called to Dwyn, “Help Ryder!”
Ryder took a sidestepping dodge from the knife’s jab. And another, and another.
Suddenly, Audra saw red and it was not the zom’s. She called out. Audra pulled free and ran. She jumped onto the zom’s back, anxious to change its direction, focus, target. Ryder held her side and cried, but her eyes remained glued to the scene from the ground. Her shouts brought out Satomi seeking her friend. It was the best thing for Ryder. A medic. Immediately. Audra yanked at the zom’s chin, trying to break its neck but not having the leverage. Still, she knocked him off balance and down they went together. Her eyes searched for her spear.
Still in the other zom.
She grabbed a knife from her ankle boot. One to use, one to lose. She pursed her lips and squinted her eyes as tightly as she could without losing sight of her target, and came down on his neck. His jugular spouted, which was enough to distract him as Audra stabbed at his face. She guarded her eyes from the destruction, but she knew it would visit her dreams. Who was he? Audra’s tears streamed down her face as he stopped moving. There had to be another way. A less sickening way.
She looked around. She wasn’t the only one covered in blood. There were others. And everything was still. The few zoms on the other side of the fence retreated. Some of her comrades lay injured or torn. No sign of the dreaded Jack or Jill.
Satomi and Ryder had disappeared into the medical office but no one looked for Ryder.
They all looked to Audra, who sat atop a man whose face and life she had destroyed.
As the others combed through the bodies for friends and injured, she found a clean spot on her shirt and wiped her face of blood, being careful around her eyes. Infection was possible. And the cure may or may not help.
“Audra?” Dwyn called out from the far side of the fence. “This one is still alive.”
Chapter Six:
Triage
Satomi couldn’t do much in the battle; instead she gathered her triage supplies in the medical office. She sent away the mother and the child she was treating for a splinter. She cleared the area to make way for injuries and called in her volunteers. She’d help the fighters once they arrived here. Until then, she could only sit and watch at the window. And whom she watched most was Ryder.
Her volunteers, two young women, stood in the corner and fidgeted with supplies. Both with sandy brown hair and big blue eyes, looked positively terrified. They whispered to each other as Satomi ignored them. Their fear response was normal. Satomi knew they’d be worthless before they could be useful. It was the same when she had first started. This was a learning experience.
Satomi watched Ryder’s spiked brown hair bob up and down as she dodged enemies. Satomi felt sick to her stomach. It was like watching a movie. She had no control. Her heart lurched forward, urging her to go help her friends. But she knew she could not. They needed fighters and she would not fight. In her medical studies she’d adopted an oath, Primum non nocere or “First, do no harm.” And it went well past her medical practice. Besides, they needed her here. An injured or dead medic was no good.
Ryder’s head went down. Satomi’s face smashed involuntarily against the glass and her thin lips contorted in sympathetic fear and pain. She brushed her hair away from her face, and tried to get a better look by pressing even closer to the glass. Ryder was doubled over, holding her side. Was she bit? Stabbed? Satomi couldn’t stand it anymore. Her hair swung as pendulums behind her as she threw open the door and ran headlong into the crowd.
When she arrived, she found Ryder’s face scrunched in pain but it meant that she was conscious. Ryder’s hands held her side. Blood flowed and bubbled. Air was entering her chest through her wound. She needed to be moved now. Satomi looked up to see Audra atop the back of the perpetrator and no one else available to help her move Ryder.
“Keep putting pressure on it. I’m going to get you out of here.”
Ryder gave a small half smile, although it wrinkled through the wet tears. She gasped to gain air. Satomi didn’t want to pull on Ryder’s shoulders and interfere with the pressure Ryder was placing on the wound. She had to act fast. As Ryder grew weaker, her ability to hold pressure would lessen as well.
She grabbed Ryder by the ankles and told her to hang on. Satomi had never noticed how uneven the ground was or how many rocks were scattered about, but now she did as Ryder’s head bounced up and down. Ryder groaned with each jostle. This was the best Satomi could do. Everyone was busy.
They finally made it into the office, where Mary and Jia waited. Satomi would talk to them about needing the courage to go into the midst of battle when the time was right, but for now she was worried about this injury. They helped her place Ryder on the cold metal table. Satomi cut Ryder’s shirt to reveal the wound.
She didn’t need to use a stethoscope on her friend’s back to know what was happening. Her breathing was distressed and, away from the battlefield, she could see one side of her chest did not rise. She wiped blood from the wound and placed a plastic wrapper over it. She directed Jia to hold it tight, but to pu
ll it away from the wound occasionally so pressure wouldn’t build. Mary worked to establish an IV. Meanwhile, Satomi prepared the Lidocaine and necessary tubes.
“Ryder, your lung has collapsed. I have to place a chest tube.”
Ryder nodded, not comfortable enough to speak. She would lose consciousness soon.
Satomi located the fourth and fifth ribs. She prepped the site and injected some Lidocaine. She’d need the rest for the deeper layers, which would only get more painful to the pleural, the potential space between the lungs and the chest wall that was no longer potential. She worked as quickly as the local anesthetic would allow. She didn’t want to put Ryder into further distress. They had no oxygen tanks to supplement her and she also did not need her moving. Jia and Mary stole glances at the wound in silent horror as they performed their tasks.
Satomi probed with her finger to ensure she was in the proper location, making cooing noises to comfort her pained friend. She placed the tube, sutured it in place, then inserted the other end of the tube into a two-jar system she pulled from the cabinet. She watched the liquid inside the jars bubble as air came out of Ryder’s chest cavity, unable to return to put pressure on the lung.
“They wanted medical scientists. They wanted you,” muttered Ryder in between faints.
“It’s OK. I’m here. I’m taking care of you. You’re going to be fine,” said the confident Satomi as she turned her attention to the offending wound, but guilt racked her. Should she have gone out there sooner? Her vow - had it allowed harm to come to Ryder?
Mary had gotten an IV in place. They both assisted her in cleaning and stitching the stab wound. With the worst of it over, Satomi gave Ryder another dose of their valuable pain medication to help her sleep. Ryder needed to sleep and heal.
Satomi treated the superficial wounds that crowded her office. Three men with defensive wounds. One with a sprained ankle. But her mind stayed focused on the frightening and intriguing manifestation of the infection. Those that attacked them had characteristics of both infected and non-infected. Had their experimenters somehow reduced the viral load of the infection, allowing some but not all of the brain structures that had gone dormant to spark and work? A sort of medical brainwashing?
