Among the Dead: Part Two: Fear No Evil

by Ryan Colley

  We managed to get a lot of goods. Even had room for the crates of beer we’d found. That would go over extremely well back at base. But we had to get back first to enjoy them. We began climbing back into the vehicles now packed with supplies.

  “Watch where you sit and what you touch,” one of them said to me, noticing how gory I was. None of the others looked anything like I did. I was certainly making an impression on my fine hosts.

  CHAPTER 35

  When I emerged from the back of the van, I felt like a victorious centurion as all the eyes turned to watch me. The blood had congealed and stained me red. The looks of shock and horror turned to smiles and laughter as I lugged the crates of beer out of the van. The medicine, although appreciated, was far overshadowed by my find.

  “Welcome back,” Boss said with a huge grin, which grew even bigger when he saw what I was carrying. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “Very funny,” I smiled and handed him a crate of the alcohol. “It’s for everyone.”

  “I’ll spread it about tonight,” he walked alongside me.

  “Tonight?” I asked. What was happening tonight? Dancing around the fire and sacrificing goats, nude whilst …

  “Once every few days, we have a gathering so that everyone can bond. I know we all live with each other, but we still need some communal time to keep up to date” Boss explained. “Our normal plan is gathering everyone. We talk about any news or changes, like deaths. It’s surprising how much people miss even when we live together. We also discuss what our goal is for the next couple days. We want to work towards building something sustainable for our future, so it’s a great way to keep everyone on task. Finally, we have a celebration to keep us all grounded and the morale up.”

  “Sounds like it could be fun,” I smiled. I wasn’t a fan of social gatherings and normally avoided them, but I didn’t think I had a choice on that occasion.

  “But first things first, Sam,” Boss began, with an embarrassed smile. “You need to shower. You look disgusting, and you’ll probably get shot – you look like a zombie.”

  “Cheers,” I muttered. “Where can I wash?”

  Boss again spoke to someone passing, and they nodded and stood patiently. I recognised him, but it took me a few moments to place his face. It was from earlier that day. It was Bill, the potential racist.

  “Bill, will show you where to go,” Boss smiled. “Normally we would wash offsite in one the buildings nearby. But I don’t think anyone should be out at night. We have some portable shower-bag things. They’re not great, but they do the job.”

  So Bill led me off, in all his racist glory. I couldn’t help but glare at the back of his head. But I felt like a rat in a maze and needed his help getting around. I hadn’t even been there twenty-four hours, so being lost was expected. Time flies when you’re having fun.

  The “shower-bag things” were basically camping showers. It was a twenty-litre bag on a hook that you would fill with water, hang from a tree, and turn the nozzle. The water would trickle out. The bags were black to absorb the sun’s heat. Taking an emergency shower at night was going to be a cold and extremely unpleasant experience, but it had to be done. I hung the camping shower from the overhang of the roof of my little room. I stripped down and began washing. I was beyond caring about who was looking. Apparently, others didn’t care about my nudity either. People milled by, oblivious to my nakedness, heading towards the big night in. I could smell smoke in the air. No one seemed bothered or panicked by that either. A bonfire, perhaps? Although a little apprehensive, I was excited to see what they had set up.

  I washed the gore off as quickly as I could, even though the camp shower didn’t make that easy. Patches of my skin were still red, but the various visceral chunks had been washed away. I blew my nose as hard as I could. There was some sort of blockage. I sucked in more air through my mouth before giving it one sharp and quick blow. No mucus or snot came out. What did come out was a fragment of something that shouldn’t have been there.

  “Gross,” I said, mortified. I sent a jet of water up my nose, but it didn’t make my insides feel clean.

  When I was finished, I dumped my boiler suit in the corner of my room. It needed to be washed, but that could wait. I was happy to see that I had been left with a t-shirt and jeans. Both were too big for me, but it was better than nudity. Time to get the party started.

  I followed the steady stream of people heading towards the social gathering. We arrived at a central area where the containers had created a large clearing. There was a roaring fire, and many men were laughing and smiling. No women or children, though.

  There were a lot more people there than I had anticipated. Thirty or forty. A lot of people for a confined space, but they all seemed happy. Some were drinking, others were carrying boxes or other objects. I saw my crates of beer, as well as many others, being stacked nearby. The one stacking them was deliberate in ensuring they weren’t too close to the fire. Good. We couldn’t drink warm beer. We were in for an awesome night!

  “Grab those, will you,” said a man fiddling with a laptop and pointing to some large speakers. I shrugged and carried them over. Looking at the size of them, they were like something out of a nightclub. I placed both where he had pointed, and he proceeded to hook them up to the laptop. He tapped a few buttons on the laptop, and the static from the speakers came to life. He pressed a few more buttons, and the speaker next to me erupted with a Bwaam!

  “Holy crap!” the tech-man wrenched the cable free of the laptop, then smiled sheepishly at me. “Need to balance the sounds a little or something.”

  “Please do,” I winced as my ears rang.

  I felt out of place, so I decided to take a step back and watch it all come together. I found a dark corner where I could sit down and chill out while I observed the scene build. The flames climbed higher. The speaker system got better. People got drunker, and the evening had yet to officially begin.

  It was dark when the grand night was considered started. Everyone had gravitated to the clearing. All except the few who remained vigilant on the walls. They were our watchful protectors. The overall tone of mirth silenced when Boss climbed onto a container to rise above everyone.

  “Gentlemen, and gentlemen!” he announced, with a huge smile. “The last few days have been quite eventful, have they not?”

  There was a chorus of murmurs and laughs.

  “Here’s the news,” Boss pulled out a scrap of paper, read it, and then continued. “Of course, we’ve had a new addition to our group. The survivor Sam, who you can thank for some of the excessive amount of alcohol!”

  There were a few cheers, and someone even slapped my back as thanks.

  “But,” Boss interjected, silencing the jovial cheering, “we also lost one of our own. Luke died while bringing back medicine. It’s sad, I know, but we have to move on to keep our group strong. So we’ll drink to those who died, and keep moving forward.”

  Boss held up a bottle of alcohol in a toast, and so did everyone else. I did the same. Thirty seconds of silence passed with the glasses raised before everyone downed their drink in one.

  “And now,” Boss wiped the drink from his lips, “let’s get this party started.”

  He climbed down from the container and walked towards me. The music began to build. Club music.

  “How was that?” Boss asked me, with a huge grin.

  “Very well put,” I grinned back. He began guiding me more towards the central mass of people.

  “Well, let’s get dancing,” then he walked off and disappeared into the crowd. People stood around, talking awkwardly, and all I could think was that there needed to be some women.

  I never liked nightclubs. They were the worst way I could think of to spend an evening. So boring and primal. People would peacock to try and impress a mate by drawing attention to themselves through the mating ritual of dancing and dressing like an asshole. The perceived alpha males would try to assert their dominance through displays of aggress
ion and stupid shows of bravado. The women would, unfortunately, fall for it and be wooed. God, nightclubs sucked. I wouldn’t miss them post-apocalypse at all.

  But the container party wasn’t anything like that. Sure, it was a cockfest, but the competitive nature of nightclubs wasn’t there. Probably because there weren’t any women around for everyone to impress. It actually made the evening all right.

  The guys stood around, chatting and laughing, telling stories from their past. Some did show off a little, but not in a way that was detrimental to others. I stood back, drinking and watching. I preferred it like that. I didn’t want any attention on me. That didn’t stop Boss from finding me amongst everyone and wanting to talk.

  “So what do you think of our little shindig?” he asked, with a drunken smile.

  “Pretty great,” I said. “You’re keeping the community together so well.”

  “It isn’t hard when everyone gets along and there’s plenty of resources. We’ll see how well we all stay together when competition begins to set in,” he replied, a little darkly.

  “I’m sure you’ll do it well,” I said, trying to instil confidence, even though I could imagine any place going a little Lord of the Flies not before long.

  I didn’t think humans were great as it was – expert opinion from a human. It didn’t matter, though. I wouldn’t be around long enough to see it fall apart. I would be with Alice soon.

  “If I had you by my side, we could pull it off,” Boss looked at me and smiled. “I know, I know. You won’t be here for long.”

  “Sorry about that, man,” I laughed. At least he remembered and wouldn’t forcibly keep me there like Harrington.

  “Not a problem,” he slapped my back, then began walking off. “Remind me to start putting together a travel pack for you.”

  “Will do,” I said quietly. Things were going to be okay.

  We partied long into the night. Drank and ate until the sun started to rise. It felt fantastic. I felt buzzed, and not just from the alcohol. I actually felt normal. Like an actual human for once, instead of feeling like I was masquerading as one.

  I returned to my room, the air tainted by the iron of blood. The blood on my boiler suit.

  “Damn,” I muttered, stumbling over to it, and then emptied the pockets of my three possessions. The thought of the boating excursion with Gary and Tracey came to mind. It was then I remembered something. I still had the fisherman’s knife. I had originally kept it as a form of self-defence amongst the living. It almost seemed a little silly having it in the container community, but having a trump card never hurt.

  I stashed the four items together. They would never leave my side again. My phone. Thundy. Harrington’s bullet. The knife.

  “So Thundy,” I began, “Looks like we’re getting somewhere. We can actually do this. We can make it to Alice.”

  Thundy stared back at me. He didn’t speak, but I knew he was happy to be going home … home to Alice. I smiled and looked around, realising something was off. It took longer to hit me than it should have, but the room had been furnished. I had a bed frame for the mattress, which had been on the floor. I crawled into bed, head spinning from my alcohol intake.

  “Whoops,” I laughed, holding my head. My tolerance for alcohol clearly had lessened. It was good to be at peace and feel safe. I closed my eyes and drifted into slumber.

  Broadcast Five: Aidez-moi – Help Me

  Eric: Bonjour, mon nom est Eric. Je suis coincé à sur mon campus universitaire. Les gens de l'extérieur ... ils essaient de manger l'autre. Je suis pris au piège. Se il vous plaît. Je suis terrifié. Ma famille me manque. Je souhaite que je restais à la maison. Pourquoi ai- je étudie dans ce pays de merde!

  Baiser cette. Je suis à court de nourriture. L'eau ne fonctionne plus. Tout ce que je ai, ce est de soude. Je pense qu'il ya quelqu'un à la porte. Mes colocataires sont partis il ya une couple d'heures. Je ne pense pas qu'ils ont fait. Tout ce que je ai entendu était cris . Se il vous plaît . Se il vous plaît envoyer de l'aide.

  (Hello, my name is Eric. I am stuck at my university campus. People from outside ... they try to eat each other. I am trapped. Please. I’m terrified. I miss my family. I wish I stayed at home. Why did I study in this shitty country!

  Fuck this. I am running out of food. The water doesn’t work anymore. All I have is soda. I think there is someone at the door. My roommates left a couple of hours ago. I do not think they made it. All I heard was screaming. Please. Please send help.)

  CHAPTER 36

  For the first time in my life, I woke up with a hangover. I hated it, yet I felt alive again. I climbed out of bed, feeling like my head was a lead weight. I needed water, so I dragged myself to one of the bottles nearby and inhaled the hydration. Then I opened another and drank that. My head spun, and I felt nauseous.

  I looked at the boiler suit and decided that I didn’t need it anymore. The clothes I had been donated fit as well as I needed, and the boiler suit was disgusting. I did want another at some point. It had done me well.

  When I felt capable of walking, I left my little home and decided to go exploring. I seemed to be up before anyone else, except for the few wandering the walls. My body ached from the night of heavy drinking, and I knew I needed it out of my system. Breathing and urination would get some out of me, but sweat is what I needed.

  I started with a gentle jog – no effort to my amazingly sculpted body. I pushed up the speed a notch. That was easy, too. The question was whether I had the stamina to sustain the speed. I had done so much fighting and running over short distances that I didn’t know if my muscles were trained to keep it up.

  I began to lag, slowing bit by bit. I reduced to a jog again. I would take being able to keep moving longer, over a short time but faster, any day. I mentally mapped the place as I ran around it. I would take twisting and turning paths, sometimes doubling back on myself so that I would know every way around. Focussing on something else enabled me to just keep going.

  I jogged about half an hour, only stopping when I nearly ran face first into the doctor.

  “Sorry about that, Doc,” I replied breathlessly, stopping to catch my breath.

  “Not a problem, Sam,” he smiled. “I see the leg is feeling better?”

  “Completely better,” I nodded, smiling. Although that wasn’t true, I had barely thought about it, nor the circumstance of why I was alive to begin with. Thoughts of Gary and Tracey sent stabbing pain into my stomach.

  “Your face?” Doc questioned. I noticed he had a slightly dishevelled look about him, like he had been up all night.

  “Fine, too,” I said, with a less enthusiastic smile this time – it was incredibly tender. “Been up long?”

  “Early hours,” he nodded and began yawning. “A couple of guys were convinced they were dying. Too much alcohol.”

  “Babies,” I muttered. “What you doing now, Doc?”

  “Not much,” he shrugged. “A couple of us are going to get showers in one of the local houses while it’s still quiet. Wanna come?”

  “Definitely,” I nodded enthusiastically. I could feel the crustiness on the surface of my skin from the previous days. I still had gore ingrained in my skin which needed to be erased.

  “Okay, I’m just grabbing some towels,” Doc rubbed his hair, which had just started to develop a greasy sheen. “Need anything?”

  “Clippers and a razor,” I said without hesitation. My hair was only a couple of inches, and stubble was beginning to grow, but it was far too long for my liking.

  “Cool,” Doc nodded.

  “Do we need guns?” I felt naked without something to defend myself. It was easy to accept safety without a second’s thought, and the idea of going out again was terrifying.

  “Nah, we’ll have an armed escort,” Doc replied. “We’re technically not supposed to be going out without Boss’s say so, so we need to keep things to a minimum.”

  “Uh, fair enough,” I shrugged. I felt like I was betraying Boss by doin
g things without his permission, but a shower sounded fantastic.

  I met Doc and a couple of others at what everyone referred to as the North Gate. The same gate we left through for the housing estate.

  “So where are we actually going?” I asked. There were me and five others all jammed into a family carrier. Doc was almost on my lap.

  “Old folks home,” Doc said. “We found it quite early on. All the residents were already gone. It’s a gated place with electricity and water. It’s all good.”

  “Why not live there, then?” I questioned.

  “Way too small to live there fulltime. Could probably get fifteen people in there at most,” Doc replied. “Boss considered making an outpost there at one point but decided we would all be better in one place. Which I agree with. Being social is a huge part of us staying alive.”

  I had to agree with him. I wasn’t a social person, but humans were social creatures and having contact was essential.

  “Anything worth taking there?” I asked absentmindedly.

  “Already been pilfered. Wasn’t really much worth having, anyway,” Doc replied. Then added with sorrow in his voice, “It all looked so sad.”

  We sat in silence, waiting to arrive at the old people’s home.

  “Blossom Grove, where ageing means dignity,” I said, reading the sign to the gated mini-community. What cheesy nonsense.

  “The inside looks as boring as the sign suggests,” one of the others snorted. We all climbed out and went through the padlocked gate. One of the men had the keys, so they were probably the ones who locked it to begin with. There was a quaint garden in the front – very small, but with lots of flowers. Overgrown.

  Everyone strode confidently up to the front doors and walked in. The huge black fence around the building ensured that it hadn’t been compromised. One of them clicked a light switch on without even looking, clearly a well-practised action. The lights revealed that the whole building looked like a grandparent’s front room – cosy and inviting with the décor of many decades ago.