by Dulaney, C.
Nancy jerked her thumb to the right. “I’d say about two miles, as the crow flies.”
I looked over at the map to the spot her finger was pointing out. Just as I thought; there was a town on the other side of the ridge to our right. I frowned and looked up ahead. The valley was long, ending in sort of a bottleneck at the base of yet another hill. Hills that, like the rest of the state, were thickly covered.
“Thanks, Nancy,” I said, raising my voice so the others could hear. “Looks like we’ll have to stick to the trail, at least until we hit the end of the hollow. If we have to, we’ll head into the hills there. Let’s just see where the trail goes once the valley ends.”
There were grunts of agreement from the others, all except Jake. He was staring straight ahead seemingly lost in thought. Or a daydream. Knowing Jake, I probably didn’t want to know.
Gus was up ahead of us, nose to the ground as always, no doubt catching a hint of the cons’ scent here and there. The tall weeds and grass had been beaten down by previous snowfall, yet there were still plenty of hiding places for his favorite game: the fuzzy-tailed, long-eared beast. I pulled the scarf tighter around my neck and watched him hunt, darting first one way then the other, his nose shoved into the grass and his tail twitching back and forth. I had to smile; seemed like business as usual for the old boy.
The dog had worked his way around one of the wrecked vehicles roughly thirty-five yards ahead and was out of sight when he started howling and snarling. Mia, who was in the lead, snapped her head around, fixed her eyes on me for a split second, then headed in his direction at a gallop.
“Shit.” I pulled hard on the reins and rushed to catch up.
Gus was throwing a fit now, growling and throwing in a few long bays. I heard the beat of hooves behind me as the rest of the group followed. I watched Mia come to a stop on the other side of the junked car, then her horse started jumping and rearing. She was riding one of the “borrowed” mares, and we had learned early on these particular horses were pretty damned skittish around zombies.
“Get back!” I screamed, coming up on them fast and waving one arm in the air to motion Mia away.
She tried several times to get her horse under control, but only succeeded in getting dumped. She landed hard on her back, rolling away quickly to keep from getting stomped on, then scrambled to her feet and drew her pistol. Her mount whirled and took off up the hollow. I was off Daisy before she even stopped and had my own pistol drawn. Gus was positioned between the threat and Mia, barking and growling so hard he was foaming at the mouth. The others reined their mounts in next to Daisy and were dismounting by the time I got Gus quieted down.
“Go, now!” I stabbed the air with my finger.
He obeyed, albeit hesitantly, meeting Jake and Zack as they rounded the corner. Nancy had her shotgun raised, hanging back a few feet behind the boys.
“Here, Gus,” she called, lowering her gun and patting her leg. Gus walked over to her, then stood with his tail tucked and ears down. Nancy then proceeded to check him for bites and give him a good scolding.
“You alright?” I asked Mia.
“Yeah.”
We stood side by side and stared at two snapping zombie heads.
“What the fuck?” Jake asked.
He and Zack had joined us, four gun barrels aimed neatly on the disturbing and perplexing scene in front of us. Tucked carefully into the grass and propped against the rear tire were two zombie heads—not zombies, just the heads—still “alive” and hungry. The eyes rolled around in their sockets and the jaws snapped at us, but they weren’t moaning. I suppose that made sense?
The four of us stood there for an amazing amount of time trying to figure out how this was possible, looking first at the heads, then to each other in confusion and disgust. A few times Mia and Jake tried to offer explanations. They came in the form of disjointed words and unfinished sentences. I checked the ground around us, then stepped around the back of the car looking for more heads. There were none. I scanned the surrounding hills, looking for anything that might hint at an explanation. Bored townsfolk setting a trap, the cons playing games with us, anything. The odds of something like that happening were slim to none. The cons didn’t know we were following, and there was no degree of boredom that might drive someone to play with nasty, flesh-torn, rotten yet still lively severed heads.
“Let’s just kill them and get out of here,” Mia finally said.
I glanced at the others; they were all in agreement. I shrugged and gave Mia the go-ahead. She squeezed off two rounds and silenced the snapping.
“Man, that doesn’t make any sense,” Jake said. “I don’t like this.”
My eye caught Gus silently making his way to my feet. I crouched and rubbed my hand over him, suddenly very relieved he was alright. I murmured, “Good boy,” to him, listening to my friends debate over what we had just witnessed. I let them go on for a few minutes before patting Gus once more and standing to mount up.
“It’s just one more reason for us to get the hell out of this valley as quickly as possible. You’ve noticed everything else, right?” I pulled myself into the saddle and swept one arm out to the aftermath that surrounded us.
Their faces changed from a look of general what-the-hell to that of sudden suspicion. I whistled for Gus to come along and nudged Daisy back towards the trail. I didn’t know about the rest of them, but I wasn’t too crazy about meeting the potential nutjobs who frequented this area. Mia’s horse stood several hundred feet away, just off the trail picking grass, so she caught a ride with Nancy.
“I think we should wait until we get to that ridge before stopping for lunch,” I suggested.
The trail appeared to head straight up the hill, weaving around the trees this way and that, all the way to the top, which suited me right down to the ground. I’d feel much safer stopping for lunch and to rest up there than down here. Zack caught up with me and fell in alongside my horse.
“I can’t explain the heads, but looks like someone used that place as a dumping ground.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Most likely the nearest town, which is just on the other side of that ridge behind us.” I glanced back over my shoulder. He considered this, then frowned and studied the trees around us. I let him ride on this way until we were almost to the top before asking him what was on his mind.
“Instead of avoiding people, I think we should be looking for them.”
* * *
We found a fairly level spot to rest the horses and eat lunch. Everyone dismounted and tied their horses off to whatever was available, fallen logs, tree branches, large rocks, then rummaged through the supplies on the packhorses for something to eat.
“We don’t have time right now to make nice with the locals. The more time we waste, the farther away they get from us,” I said, pulling a can of beans and a Ziploc bag of dog food from the pack. Everyone else was eavesdropping on the conversation by this time, already finding places to sit and enjoy their assorted canned goods and drinks.
“I know, I know. They’ve got a big head start and we need to catch up. I get it. But Kase, you’re smart enough to realize that eventually we’re gonna have to make friends. Safety in numbers, right? And the only way to do that is to start heading into the towns instead of completely bypassing them. How many have we dodged already?” Zack followed me over to a large rock jutting out of the ground at the base of a hickory tree. I sat and poured some Kibbles-n-Bits on the ground for Gus.
“Alright, who’s got the can opener?” After getting comfortable on the cold, hard ground, I realized for the hundredth time that eating from cans was a pain in the ass.
Mia whizzed it at my head. “Yo, Boss! Head’s up!”
The fun and games went on for several minutes, me pretending to lose an eye in a horrible can opener accident, and Mia voicing disbelief at her incredibly bad aim. Finally Zack lost his patience and began lecturing me again on the advantages of having “friends.”
“
Listen, sweetie, I’m going to stop you right there. I have every intention of meeting people and looking for survivors, after we finish what we set out to do. If that’s not good enough, then it’s your problem. Deal with it.”
Everyone was still watching and trying to be coy about it. With this bunch, the only one who succeeded was Gus, and that was only because he had his face shoved into a pile of dog food.
Zack took a deep breath and stared at me a moment before finally sighing and turning his attention to his own meal. That seemed to signal the others to eat and keep their mouths shut because no one made so much as a peep for the remainder of lunch.
* * *
“Peter!” Jake shouted.
He was leaning against the stairway banister listening to the commotion coming from above. He had known as soon as they came through the front door that this had been a mistake. There was blood all over the kitchen floor and a long smear spreading down the hallway to the stairs. Pete had bolted through the house, not paying any attention to his surroundings or showing even an ounce of caution. Jake followed to back the guy up, quickening his pace when he heard the moaning start upstairs.
“Goddamnit.” Jake began taking the steps, two at a time.
Pete fell backwards out of what Jake assumed to be one of the bedrooms and slipped on entrails, throwing him to one side and onto his face. The moans grew louder inside the bedroom and Pete was scrambling to get up, to get away from whatever was coming. His hands and feet kept sliding on what turned out to be his wife’s guts on the hardwood floor. Just as Jake was about to advance and help the damned idiot who had gotten him into this mess, he heard another sound from below: a fellow zombie answering his sister’s call.
Jake whirled at the top of the stairs to see two deadheads waiting at the bottom, hands outstretched and jaws snapping. He turned back to yell at Pete, ask him if there was another way out of the house, but it was too late. The missus was already having a word with him. Jake holstered his pistol and ran down the stairs, no longer thinking by this time, simply reacting. He grabbed the railing halfway down and hurled himself over it. Jake hit the floor harder than he expected, the force of the impact driving him into the wall.
For a moment he thought he was unconscious, sure he had been knocked out, because the next thing he knew one of the deadheads had their hands around his leg and was tearing at his pants. He kicked at it with his free leg as hard as he could, then realized with horror that it was also pinned down, not by the hands of the other zombie, but by its teeth. He screamed as he watched the two rip his pant legs open and begin gnawing on his flesh. He tried to get away, clawing at the bare floor with his fingernails, thrashing with his legs. It was no use. Deadhead number one had already squirmed its way along his body and had started gutting him, tugging and jerking on his small intestines until they were free of his abdomen.
Jake woke with a violent start, bolting upright and thrusting his hands out in front of him. The fire crackled beside him and the night was quiet except for his harsh breathing.
Was I screaming?
He ran his hands over his face, then down each arm, across his chest and abdomen, then along his legs. Yep, everything was where it should be. Jake looked around the campsite, wondering if anyone had witnessed his little fit of terror. Everyone was still asleep. Well, everyone but Kasey, who was on watch duty. He stared hard into the darkness surrounding the camp, but couldn’t see her. He knew she was there. Jake hoped that since he couldn’t see her, then she couldn’t see him.
He lay back against the ground, snuggled down into his sleeping bag, and thought about what had really happened at Pete’s. Of course he hadn’t been attacked by zombies. That was only the subconscious fears he carried every day rising to the surface. However they had found Pete’s undead wife. She’d gone after her husband, Jake had run from the house, abandoning the first in a long line of people. Pete, Tommy, Ben…oh Ben. Jake silently scolded himself for not seeing the signs of Kyra’s twisted and hateful plans. No, that wasn’t right either. He saw them, but hadn’t listened to his gut. Had simply ignored it. Now Ben was dead because of it.
On their final trip into Matias before setting out on this little adventure, Jake had personally gone back to the three houses Kyra had supposedly searched the night they’d looked for antibiotics. All winter the one thought that wouldn’t leave his mind was the way Kyra had been acting once the search was over and they’d all met up at the store. She’d been acting suspicious. Ben hadn’t noticed. Jake had. At the time he assumed it was nothing more than Kyra attempting to cover up her joy over not finding the medicine. He figured she’d be happy to see Mia die, seeing as how the woman was Kasey’s best friend, and Kasey herself had knocked Kyra on her ass and made a fool out of her in front of everyone. The more he thought about it during their stay at Crousley’s, the more he wondered if there was much more to it than that.
He’d torn those three houses apart looking for anything that would tell him what Kyra had been up to. Zack and Mia had joined him that day, and they were busy loading Crousley’s Explorer and his own Jeep with whatever supplies they could find from the neighboring houses. He’d been about to give up when he reached the third house, finally surrendering to the possibility that he may have been overreacting or simply paranoid. He ended up standing in the kitchen of that last house for a long time, watching through the window as his friends carried canned goods from the house across the street to the Jeep.
“Hell with this, I’m bein’ crazy.”
He remembered walking to the bathroom to take a piss and splash water on his face. As he relieved himself, he cast his eyes casually around the room, no longer looking for something he’d finally decided wasn’t there. That’s when he saw it. His eyes had caught a glimpse of something orange in the trash can beside the toilet. He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head this way and that trying to figure out what he was seeing. There was a handful of crumpled toilet paper on top of whatever it was. He hurried and zipped his jeans, never taking his eyes off the thing in the trash can, then bent over and moved the wad of toilet paper aside.
“I’ll be damned…” He stood there for a long time staring at the prescription bottle before finally picking it up.
Cipro. Damn her. She found medicine, and she hid it. She’s the reason we had to go to Gibson. She’s the reason Ben was killed.
Jake shook himself from his reminiscing, rubbed his face again, then lay there staring at the stars, forcing his mind to go totally blank. He’d been doing that a lot lately. It was the only way he could get these poisonous thoughts out of his head. At least temporarily. He just hoped no one else had noticed the change in him yet. Most of the time he was obsessed with killing Kyra. The rest of the time he was obsessed with Ben’s death. He kept this all to himself, certain that if he told anyone about these things, they’d lose trust in him. Maybe even make him leave the group. He doubted that though, since his grandma was one of them. In the end, he couldn’t take the chance. He would just bide his time, hope they found the cons and Kyra, then pray Kasey and the others wouldn’t try to stop him from doing what he had to do.
* * *
I waited until Jake settled back down and drifted off to sleep before moving to another location. The rock I’d been sitting on was making my ass numb, and the thick brush just below me was severely hindering my ability to keep a vigilant watch. I moved halfway around the camp to a more level spot with a more wide-open view of the hillside below us. It was damn cold, and my skin was chilled even through the many layers I was wearing. Cross-legged on the cold ground, my rifle resting next to me, my gloved hands shoved into the pockets of my Carhartt coat, I glanced around the wooded area.
It was quiet, except for normal nighttime noises. The air smelled crisp and clean, another good sign we were alone. The sky was clear and full of stars, the half-moon shining brightly. If it’d been just a little bit warmer, it would’ve been the perfect night for camping. Satisfied that all was as it should b
e, I began thinking about Jake. Actually, I wasn’t so much thinking as I was worrying. Sure I’d noticed a change in him. We had all changed, in one way or another. Others more obviously than some. Ben’s death still weighed heavily on him, this I knew, because I felt the same way.
“Hey,” Zack whispered.
I jumped and twisted so quickly that something pulled in my lower back. I winced, pulled my hand from my pocket and rubbed it a bit, then growled in his direction. He gave me a shy smile and sat down, slipped his hand underneath my coat, and took over rubbing the sore and strained muscle. I sighed and shoved my hand back in my pocket.
“It’s my turn for watch, babe.”
I grunted an acknowledgement and stared ahead, watching a raccoon hobble in its awkward gait across the path halfway down the hill. Zack leaned closer and rested his chin on my shoulder. His hair tickled my cheek, his breath warmed my neck.
“Still upset with me?”
“No, I was never upset with you.” I pressed my temple to his forehead. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. I’m sorry for that.” I closed my eyes and enjoyed just being alone with him, for however long it would last. He wrapped his other arm around the front of my waist and pulled me closer, then kissed my cheek.
“I’m not sure I accept your apology.” His hand slid further inside my coat and up my back. I leaned away just enough to look at him.
“Right.”
