The Common Cold (Book 2): A Zombie Chronicle-Cabin Fever

by Roberts, David K.

  “I guarantee it, Janet,” Danny replied.

  “Actually, folks,” Joshua interjected. “You’ll have to include me in the indoors number. I’ve almost never held a gun so I’d be less than useful out there.” He smiled before adding, “if anything, your remark is particularly sexist towards me if you just think about it.”

  “You can count me out of any hunt, too,” Ethen chipped in. “I’m too old for that; I’m not like you young women, all cut and thrust. I know my limits and I’ve had my days full of action. I just support my Joshua and I don’t care how old-fashioned that is.”

  Tom laughed. “Fair enough, Ethel. Good on you. And I guess you’re right, Joshua. I hadn’t thought of it that way. My apologies.”

  “It’s no problem. I have my other special skills; I don’t feel any less manly for having no known abilities with guns.”

  “And so you shouldn’t,” Tom replied, realising too late that the best way not to insult someone was just to shut the fuck up. He should have just engineered the situation better; standing up to women was just so damn dangerous.

  “Right. To business,” Chuck said. Having no wife or woman to offend, and ignoring the charged atmosphere in the room he began describing how they would do this. “There are five of us. We’ll need two to destroy the group,” he began. “The other three will protect the flanks and the rear in case there are fast ones hiding and they are still able to be as quick as usual. Assume the worst and you won’t be surprised.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Rob agreed. “Sandy, Janet and Laurie. In spite of what we’ve just discussed, would you three arm up and stay by the walkie-talkie in case we need back up?”

  “Brown-nose,” Danny muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Rob to hear. Rob stifled a grin; it was more than his life was worth to actually smile at this point.

  “Sure can,” Sandy said, apparently accepting the offered olive branch. “Just say the word and us delicate flowers will be there, protecting our menfolk.”

  The tension between them eased only a little in spite of Sandy’s attempt at levity. In truth, although the request was completely cack-handed, she understood the sentiment behind it. The last thing she wanted really was for Rob to be distracted - even unnecessarily - while doing his manly thing; she knew he was a good hunter when given the chance. None of them were experts in killing people - not yet anyway - and she understood that what Rob and the other men needed was to be able to focus on their task; it seemed men never worried about other men and just made assumptions on competence, and that they would do what was necessary, somehow coming to no harm. That was how most armies functioned since time began, well, almost all armies.

  “So. Shall we draw straws to find out who the two will be?” Chuck asked. He had discovered some drinking straws while they had been eating; his mind always seemed to be on the task at hand. He held the bunch in front of him. Each of the men drew straws; Tom and Danny drew the short ones. Danny’s face went tight as he realised that to him went half of the grisly task of execution. Janet went over to him and held him briefly, looking him in the eyes.

  “Be careful out there,” she whispered. “I’ve only got you, you know.”

  “I’ll be okay, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not like they’re the first I’ll ever have dispatched. Are we okay?”

  “Yes, we’re okay. Until I can get some proper practice I’d probably just shoot my own foot off.”

  They kissed and held each other tightly. He and the other four went outside to their first deliberate zombie hunt.

  *

  The five men fanned out across the track, the two executioners in the middle. Chuck began to hang back to protect the rear as they neared the corner. No-one felt the cold; their senses were focused solely on survival. Although nothing could be seen, Danny had a strong feeling he was being watched by at least one cheetah somewhere out there, beyond the tree line. Hoping his mates wouldn’t let one through, he focused on the upcoming corner. The last time they’d seen the pack, as he now thought of them, they were just past the bend up ahead. He looked across at Tom to make sure he was okay with what they were doing. Tom’s face gave nothing away; it was set in stone, his focus completely ahead of him. They kept on walking.

  Rounding the corner they saw the pack had moved and were now some two hundred yards off and walking slowly away; away from the encampment. Danny stopped and looked at his fellow hunters.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked quietly.

  “Follow them,” came Chuck’s unequivocal reply. The others nodded their assent so they continued on.

  “Watch the sides, this may be a trap,” Danny added, beginning to feel vulnerable. Now that the hunted were considerably further ahead, he began to look further afield, still with that feeling of being watched tickling him between the shoulder blades.

  There were now less than fifty yards between them and the pack; so far none of the Infected had so much as looked over their shoulders. Danny was now very uneasy and began looking behind them, certain this was a trap. He could see it in Rob’s eyes as well. The others felt the same and soon they were all looking in all directions. They had walked over half a mile by now.

  “I think we should go back. We’re leaving the women and kids exposed.” Danny said, almost pleadingly. At that moment the walkie-talkie crackled and the sound of Sandy’s voice came over the airwaves.

  “Rob. Can you hear me?”

  Rob fumbled in his pocket pulling out the small yellow radio.

  “Hey, Sandy. What is it?”

  “We’ve got company. Those things are here.”

  “What?” Rob replied, his face going pale.

  “They started coming out of the edge of the tree line as soon as you left. I kept an eye on them, thinking they would walk by but they’re making straight for the cabin.”

  “Shit. Okay, put on the perfume, anything. Just in case. We’re coming back.”

  “Love you,” she whispered quietly, although the whole group of men heard it in the icy stillness.

  “And you babe,” Rob replied. “See you in a minute.”

  Putting it back in his jacket pocket, he turned to the others. “We are going back, right?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Danny replied. They all realised the fact that the hunters were being outhunted; they were being drawn away from the cabin by what they had all thought of as dead and mostly frozen bodies. A re-evaluation was due, just as soon as they had secured their loved ones.

  “If they can do that, they might have also laid a trap for us,” Chuck advised. “Look,” he said pointing at the group they had followed. All had turned back and were walking in awkward but eager steps towards them. Danny got the same feeling he had before in London that these creatures could communicate telepathically.

  “Goddam,” Tom exclaimed. “Let’s get back.”

  They began a jogging pace back to the cabin, watching the tree line all the time expecting some form of attack from their flanks. Danny peered hard beyond the trees and into the shadows; that was where the attack would come from, he was sure of it. Unsure as to whether it was just his imagination, he would have sworn there was something flitting between the dark patches of undergrowth.

  “Something off to our right,” Mike announced in undertones. He was breathing deeply, his lungs demanding more air; he wasn’t as fit as he would have liked to have been.

  “Seen it,” Rob agreed.

  Danny was truly nervous now, his finger gently touching the trigger on his rifle, at the same time praying they hadn’t just been fatally outsmarted by a bunch of dead people. They rounded the original corner where this hunt had all started and the cabin came into view. Seven or eight zombies were outside with others making their tortured way towards it. A couple had walked across the lake, one falling in and apparently freezing in place, its arms flailing uselessly, its mouth uttering relentless groans. From the cabin Oskar could be heard barking as one of the undead had made its clumsy way up the tw
o steps and had started banging on the glass.

  Further back a couple could be seen moving around the herd of zombies. They appeared faster than the rest and were behaving like sheep-dogs, herding them towards the hut. From their feline movements they were clearly the type Danny had christened cheetahs; the cold did appear to impact their capability for lightning fast movement but they had compensated for that by an increase in intelligence or at least cunning. Both Danny and Rob had seen animalistic ambush behaviour in London: one cheetah chasing the victim towards another who would shoot out from cover and throw itself on the victim, bringing it down as it bit into the neck bringing bloody, painful death. The smell of fresh blood then seemed to attract the slower in the pack to the kill, at which point they would all share in the spoils. Danny put his free hand to his neck; he could almost feel the teeth sinking in.

  The hunters slowed down to a walk, assessing what was in front of them. A shot rang out as Mike took out the zombie nearest the front door of his cabin. The sound of the gunshot attracted the attention of the group, who at this point numbered in excess of thirty, all of whom rounded as one on the men, changing their direction of travel away from the cabin. The hunters lay down heavy and continuous fire; and zombies began falling like flies, brain and gore darkening the white and icy ground, giving the shooters’ grounds for hope that they would escape from the ambush into which they had been lured. All of a sudden a screeching roar sounded as the thing that had been lurking in the undergrowth off to the right made itself known as it hurtled on all fours straight at Danny. In its surprise attack it covered the fifty or so yards like lightning and leapt the remaining ten feet crashing heavily into the Englishman. If it hadn’t been for the shot through its chest delivered by Chuck moments before impact it would have sunk its great fangs into its victim, ending Danny’s run of luck and his life. It was not just luck but innate instinct that made Chuck maintain his position as rear guard and so had the perfect vantage point from which to take the animal down.

  Danny fell to the ground, knocked sideways by the impact. Gore covered his face and jacket and he scrabbled frantically on the icy surface to regain his footing. The firing had slowed as the shock of what had just happened spread through the group of men. Seeing Danny still moving the shooting intensified once more and the Infected continued to fall.

  “Behind us!” Chuck shouted. The herd that had led the hunters away from the cabin had rounded the corner and appeared to be rushing as fast as their frozen joints would allow, groaning their ecstasy at their impending success. Even in his shaken state Danny could sense the throng’s lust for warm food. Tom and Danny began thinning the herd coming from the rear while the others finished up the frontal assault.

  “I’m out of ammo,” Rob said, drawing his machete. He stood his ground, waiting for any that might get past the two man enfilade at the rear. With no more zombies between the men and the hut they all turned to concentrate their remaining ammunition on the now-decimated group coming down the road. After a few more well-placed shots, the field of fire went silent as the last targets collapsed, inert.

  “Jesus,” Tom sighed as he realised it was over for now.

  “I never dreamt they could do this,” Chuck said, surveying the scene of carnage they had just created. The women came out from the cabin, stepping gingerly over the dead. Danny heard instructions to the kids to stay inside and look after Oskar. Nice bit of reverse psychology, he thought.

  Janet ran over to Danny and into his arms. “I thought you were going to die. Are you alright?” Those around him stiffened at the question, realising what even a scratch might mean.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Whatever it is just landed on me rather heavily, that’s all.”

  Janet started looking closely at his exposed skin but found nothing. There was a gaping tear in the down filled jacket he was wearing; fluffy feathers were making their way out of their once neat confine.

  “What was that thing, anyway?” Tom asked. They gathered around the creature. It appeared to be some sort of mountain lion. It was big. Chuck leant down and pulling off a glove, felt its body.

  “It’s warm so it hadn’t turned.”

  “Maybe it was just scared. With these things around I bet it was pretty edgy,” Danny suggested. He was rubbing his chest where the great animal had collided with him at speed. There would be significant bruising but at least you had to be alive to bruise.

  “I would have thought it would steer clear of people with guns,” Rob countered. “Animals around here must understand the hunter, I’d have thought.”

  Chuck was checking out its mouth, and sighed. “I think it has tried to eat one of those rotting creatures. I can see dark, greenish meat between its teeth.” He poked a finger at some of the detritus and smelled it.

  “Ew,” Sandy said, horrified. “That’s nasty. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that will eat dung to see how fresh it is?”

  “I might if I had to,” he replied, smiling and enjoying her discomfort a little. “Definitely from one of these devil-spawn. It smells very much like old, rotten meat.”

  “Damn,” Tom said, “I hope whatever this thing is can’t cross the species divide. Or we’re f…, sorry, in trouble.”

  “It hasn’t turned,” Chuck stated, having pulled open its now closed eyes, revealing normal irides.

  “Okay. Whatever the problem, let’s just scour the area to make sure there aren’t any more surprises in store,” Danny suggested. “Perhaps we should have done this yesterday.” Nods of agreement all round; hindsight was a wonderful thing to possess; still, they wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  “I need some more ammo first,” Rob said. “Nothing more useless than a gun without bullets. Anyone else need anything?”

  Replenishing their ammunition, the men went back out. Before widening their search for more zombies, they confirmed all those in the field of battle were dead. The occasional shot rang out as they discovered a survivor, but not from Rob, he had taken to using the machete instead of bullets; probably a good way to vent steam, Danny thought.

  Agreeing a plan to search the area, Danny looked up as he felt the first snow flake land on his forehead. They wouldn’t have long before their search would have to be called to a halt. At least a heavy snow fall ought to protect them.

  Chapter 7 - The Threat Under The Snow

  BB had trouble not smiling, to the extent that his cheeks were beginning to ache. He really couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so goddam happy. All that pent up desire to get back to Kimberley in combination with the sheer effort and emotion of it, made him suddenly feel thoroughly exhausted while at the same time over the moon. Now it was time to try and think straight. He had promised his friend and colleague, Tom Morgan, that he would return to the cabin although he knew that both he and Kim definitely hated the cold that going back would land them in the middle of. Still, at least he knew the group and liked them. That was more than they had here, people would be the only constant and hope for the foreseeable future.

  “BB, you know I’ll go wherever you are,” Kim said unequivocally. “Anyway, without the hospital I haven’t got anything here and we sure as hell don’t have the house any longer.”

  BB looked off into the distance; he could also see what was left of the house from here, at least in his imagination. “That’s a real shame, I loved that place. Maybe one day,” he said leaving the sentence unfinished. “Well, I won’t bullshit you, it’s bloody cold up there and it’s probably started snowing by now.”

  “Look, just get me some decent clothing and I’ll be fine.”

  “Sorted. They’ve got plenty of stuff you can use. Danny and Rob, two of the guys in the group, seem to have stopped and picked up a whole cold weather sports shop so don’t worry about that. What about you, Emily? Are you happy to come with us? Do you have any relatives you want to get back to?”

  “I’ll come with you. If that’s okay,” she hurried to add. “I’ve got no-o
ne.”

  “Of course it’s okay,” Kim said, putting her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “You’ve got us now.”

  “Thank you. I don’t have anyone else that I can go to. My dad fell out with his family and my mum’s parents are both dead.” Her eyes welled up at the thought of her parents and the way they had died.

  “This group in Colorado is quite a bunch,” BB explained. “We have some Brits that got out of England with us, some really nice fellow yanks and four, sorry, five kids,” he corrected himself remembering saving Cliff’s young one. “And we have a dog rescued from my plane. We have plenty of supplies and two helicopters, so all in all we should be alright.”

  The young girl smiled a little; at least she would be out of harm’s way, BB thought, unaware of what was going on back in the mountains as he spoke.

  “Bet you’re glad I kept current on choppers, eh?” he asked Kim, squeezing her knee.

  “And what a big one you’ve got,” she replied coquettishly, fluttering her eyes at him. Emily blushed at the innuendo and BB held his hands up in surrender.

  “Are you sure you want to spend time with these two?” Zoë asked the girl, smiling. “He’s a little frightening and so it seems is his wife.”

  “Come on, you lot,” BB chided lightly. “Let’s get going. If the weather closes in I’m not sure how we’ll get back. Also the GPS is working for now and I don’t want to push my luck on that front.” The GPS service had always been BB’s biggest concern. Being predominantly in space, as long as no-one switched them off from an earth-based station, it was likely they would have at least six months’ of their use before they became too inaccurate by which to navigate and then of course, fail altogether. He could read a map and fly in inclement weather with proper instrumentation, but snow would ground them if the GPS failed. On top of that the covering of snow would make everything look the same from the air, making it all but impossible to find the refuelling dumps under its covering. And that was a fear he wanted to keep to himself.