“Mhmm.”
“Where is he honey?” he asked, stepping into the room and dropping to one knee next to the two bodies behind the door. Wendy was far past dead, her corpse covered in flies, her body bloated. The knife had pierced her brain, she’d probably died without ever turning. Judging by the wound on her right arm, the torn pieces of flesh from her exposed neck, she hadn’t had that long to live anyway.
It broke his heart, but Rose was dead. There was no need to check for a pulse. The same knife that had been used on Wendy must have been used on the little girl first, because there was a very distinct wound on the little girl’s temple, indicating someone had put her down. There was also a lot of blood on the girl’s mouth, despite someone’s attempt to wipe it clean, and there were bits of cloth between the little clenched hands. She had turned, but whether it was first or last, he didn’t know for sure.
Melanie, meanwhile, had stepped in front of the sliding doors of the closet, her trembling finger pointing, indicating where her brother was.
Had he hidden in the closet and left his sister out here to distract anything coming through the door? What kind of cowardly shit was that? Why hadn’t he tried to escape through the window with his sister?
Getting to his feet, he nudged her aside, and put his hand on the closet door. “Jake, are you in there?”
There was a small bump near the bottom of the door and panic set in. Was he injured? Was he too weak to come out when he called? Sliding the door back, he felt terror grip his heart, the answer to his unspoken questions truly horrifying him. As Jake’s body twisted on the belt gripping his neck, his hands yanked at the Xbox remote cord binding his hands and feet, the eyes glaring at him with hunger, the jaw working against the cords wrapped around his jaw.
He didn’t know how or why, but he couldn’t stand looking into those eyes. “Melanie, go out into the living room, wait for me, okay?”
The little girl nodded, her blond hair matted with blood, her blue overalls and white shirt a gory mess, her hands trembling as she stepped through the door and out of sight.
When he was sure that she was gone, he turned to the nearby bed and grabbed a pillow, then walked back over to the closet, placed the pillow against the struggling boy’s head and pulled the trigger, the resulting brain and tissue striking the back wall of the closet evidence enough that the boy was now out of his misery.
Without looking at what he’d just done, he turned and walked out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Melanie was standing half-way down the hallway, like she hadn’t been able to go the rest of the way, and he came up behind her as he holstered his gun, then put a hand on her shoulders. “Say, you want to go pack your bag? I’m going to have you come stay with us, okay?”
As much as he wanted to go and check on his wife and kids, if something had happened over there, either his phone would have gone off or he would have heard his wife screaming. So far, all had been silent.
Melanie looked unsure, then finally put her hand out and opened her bedroom door, the eight-year-old clearly traumatized as she went in and grabbed her little suitcase. “I hadn’t unpacked yet. We just got here yesterday.”
“Okay, come on. Let’s go see what Ralphie and Penny are up to. I’m sure they’ll be eager to see you.”
“But what about the others? Have you seen my Daddy? He’s been really sick. Ever since Rose gave him that special hug, he’s not been well.”
“Rose gave him a special hug?” he asked curiously, kneeling down to look at the little child before him. “What did it look like?”
Rose screwed her face up into a snarl, clenched her free hand into a claw, then reached out and tried to grab him. “She tried to hug me too, but I hid on the corner of the bed until Mommy came to get me. There was a boy in our room, I saw him leave. Then Rose began acting strange.”
A boy had been in their room.
Carrie had seen someone skulking around.
What the fuck was going on? Wasn’t a zombie apocalypse enough?
Chapter 16
I
“Everything okay?” he asked, stepping into the cabin and seeing Carrie coming down the hallway.
“Yeah, just making sure the windows are locked. I was about to go do a perimeter check, see if anyone has been messing with them from the outside,” she responded, eyes wide as they fell on the little girl before him.
“I can do that. Think you can run the bath and get her into a fresh change of clothes?” he asked, patting Melanie’s shoulder softly.
Penny came into the room, her face showing the shock she was experiencing at the gory state of the girl in front of him. “Mommy is Melanie okay?”
“She’s just fine, Sweetie,” he said before his wife could answer. “Melanie has just been rolling around in the mud. We’re going to get her cleaned up a bit, then get dinner going. You won’t mind sharing your bed with her tonight, right?”
His daughter shook her head, “it’s okay. Just as long as she doesn’t wet the bed. I hate it when that happens.”
He chuckled for his daughter’s sake, the real humor gone from the world with the glaring eyes of a strung-up teenager. At least the boy had made it so he couldn’t hurt anyone when he turned; he’d protected his sister afterall.
“I’m sure everything will be fine. You got her?” he asked his wife, who nodded. “Okay, I’m going back outside.”
Carrie forced a smile, then leaned down and looked Melanie in the face, “come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.”
“Okay,” the little girl responded, then let herself be led down the hall.
Penny was hanging out, her nose wrinkling at the sight of the other girl. “Why don’t you go help your mother?” he asked, nodding down the hall.
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
Now, there was some normalcy for you.
He turned and walked back out the front door.
Night was upon them and he hadn’t thought to go get one of the lanterns, or even a flashlight, so he pulled his phone out and turned the flashlight option on, the cone of white lighting up his porch.
There was a pole in front of Randy’s house, a transformer fixed to the top, a soft orange glow emanating from the lone exterior light in the area. It was enough to barely see by if you were on the road, but not if you went around the back of the cabin. There, encroached upon by the forest, he would need something far stronger to check the back door and windows for tampering.
He did his best to move on from the horrors he’d seen in his neighbor’s house, but the eyes of the teenage boy Jake kept creeping back up on him. He jerked his head around, sure that he’d see them there in the shadows, peering out at him from the dark.
A shiver ran up his spine.
Keeping his phone in front of him, he moved to the stairs and glanced in the direction of the vehicles, they appeared undisturbed and exactly how he’d left them. Moving to the left, he edged his way around the front bumper of the mini-van and peered around the corner at the nearby forest, a rusty rake perched against the wall the only odd thing in sight. Obviously, he’d forgotten to put it away the last time he’d cleaned up out here and the weather had been at it in the two years since they’d been here last. Walking up to the lit-up window on his left, he used his phone and looked along the edges, not seeing anything but water damage along the bottom of the windows.
It was the same for the second bedroom window, so he moved onto their room. With the elevated position of the cabin he couldn’t see much, but he knew that his wife was moving around inside, her shadow flowing across the window shades.
Walking around the back, he paused to look into the forest, listening to the noises of the night, trying to see if there was anything out of the ordinary within earshot. He heard the crack of limbs, the rustle of branches, and an owl off in the distance; the usual. Turning to the stairs he spied a dead raven lying on the bottom step, it’s coat shining in the light, looking to have died
only recently.
Before all of this, he might have been sickened at the sight, but now he simply brushed it away with his foot and mounted the steps to the back porch. There was a porch light, but the bulb had gone out; he’d have to replace it when he got the chance.
He knocked on the door, then turned to look at the nearby cabin, wondering if they were just jumping at shadows due to the current crisis unfolding around them. Still, someone had broken into the girl’s room, Melanie said she’d seen someone crawling out their window, and her sister had turned into a zombie, implying that whoever it was had killed her in her sleep. When Melanie had begun screaming for her parents, they had rushed in and Rose had attacked them. But, what was the point to any of that? Nothing else in the cabin appeared to be touched, so it hadn’t been to steal their food or other supplies. There didn’t appear to be any motive, and that was somehow scarier than some of the other shit he’d experienced since this all began.
Speaking of supplies, he’d have to make a trip over there the following day and see if the Peterson’s had anything worth taking; they weren’t going to be using it anymore.
God, that’s morbid.
The door opened, and Carrie peered out at him. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” he answered without turning. “I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Still, we’ll check to make sure everything is locked up, and I think we should take shifts tonight staying up, keeping an eye on things.”
“Come inside, we’ll talk about it while I make dinner.”
“Okay.”
II
Carrie’s hand ran over his back in a soothing manner as they sat on the couch, the kids playing in front of the TV, hopefully ignoring everything they were saying. Though, protecting them from this world would prove to be impossible, he still wanted to try and preserve their innocence for as long as possible.
“You had to run him over, you had no choice. You know that. If you hadn’t, how many people would have died before someone put him down anyways? Then how many of those would rise up and attack others? You stopped an outbreak before it began. You are a hero, even if they didn’t see it at the time. You need to let go of this guilt, there’s way too many more important things going on. What’s done is done,” Carrie comforted, trying to talk sense into him.
It was easy for her to say, she wouldn’t be having the nightmares when turning in tonight. That was, if he could even sleep. “We are going to have to sleep in shifts, have the kids bunk in with us tonight,” he told her, looking at Melanie sitting next to his daughter, doing her best to pay attention but too distracted to really get into the game the others were playing.
“So you think someone murdered Rose, then bugged out before she came back and attacked her family? Why would they do that? If it were some sociopathic serial killer, why wouldn’t they do the job themselves? What kind of sick fuck are we dealing with?” Carrie mused, trying to come to some kind of theory about what had happened.
“You’re trying to make sense of something that may not be sensical. Sometimes assholes are just assholes. I don’t know what happened and there’s no use speculating. It could have just been a burglar that was caught unawares by Rose’s reanimation. That doesn’t mean I’m going to take it on faith that its over, that he won’t try breaking in here next,” he argued.
“A burglar who happened to break in at the same time Rose died for some unknown reason?”
“There is a plausible explanation, though a frightening one to think about. We’re all infected with a virus that reanimates our bodies upon brain death, right? It’s been all of two days, who knows for sure what it’s doing to us. Maybe it’s killing us slowly, starting with the young and the elderly. Three or four days from now, are we going to go to sleep and wake up as one of the undead? Who can know for sure?” he reasoned in a soft dry tone. “And as far as someone breaking into the house? They could be searching for supplies, or weapons. Or hell, just a place to sleep. We don’t know.”
“Morbid much? Thanks a lot. Now how the fuck am I supposed to sleep tonight thinking that I’m slowly dying and turning into one of those—things?” she barked, slapping him on the shoulder.
“Son of a bitch!” he uttered.
“Language, Daddy. Mommy will get the soap,” Penny scolded.
“Then you can tell your mother to quit beating me up.”
“Oh, that didn’t hurt, you big baby,” Carrie replied, lightly slapping him again, making him flinch.
“It would if you fell off porch four feet off the ground with a two-hundred-pound raving zombie trying to eat your face,” he growled, his hand going to his lower back and rubbing the spot where he’d landed on that damned rock. “Think I need some pain killers. Maybe we should have checked the Wal-Mart pharmacy for drugs. Think they’ll still have some Oxy? We should grab those and any antibiotics we can find tomorrow, going to be hard to get a prescription later on.”
Carrie sighed, “we will talk about it later. You want to talk about that other thing?”
“What other thing?”
“What happened in Holbrook after you nearly killed yourself trying to play hero,” she countered, as if he should’ve known instantly what she was talking about, her hand stroking his bandaged hand in emphasis.
The problem with women was they gave men way too much credit. He wasn’t as devious or insightful as she thought he was. He was just tired and not thinking straight.
“Are you talking about the conversation that came after? I was thinking you’d have a problem with it, that you wouldn’t want to leave and give up all you know for a mysterious sanctuary in the woods with people you don’t even know,” he responded with a shrug.
Carrie surprised him when she smiled slightly and put a hand on his forehead, then began stroking his hair. “I think we should do it.” She laughed when his breath caught, and a look of confusion crossed his face. “You were right, last night if you had brought this up, I would have told you no. I would have told you that I would want to try and stay here for as long as we can, that we are remote, away from things, surrounded by woods, and have everything we need, so why give it all up? Why take the chance?”
“And that’s changed how?”
“There’s a psycho out there skulking around the woods, breaking into houses, and killing people for no other reason than they can. We can all group up in the same room, rotate shifts on who’s awake, keep the gun on our laps and jump at shadows, but for how long can we keep that up? What if this asshole strikes the second we think we’re safe? When will we ever be safe? I say, go call this woman, double check that the offer was genuine, and try to get some particulars so we can make a more informed decision,” she replied logically.
It had so clearly echoed thoughts he’d had earlier that day, so he was speechless for a moment while he tried to come up with something to say.
Which made her laugh.
“You know it’s such a rare thing, I can’t help but gloat a bit. You’re speechless.”
“You’re hilarious,” he snarked, looking away.
He patted his knee, then decided that she was right, a phone call wouldn’t hurt. Especially with all that was going on around here. If they were going to chance it, they had better know it was worth it. He took the police ticket from his pocket, got to his feet and grabbed his phone, which was charging on the dining room table.
He was dialing before he could think twice about it.
It rang twice, then Rosilynn’s voice answered, sounding a bit worn out, “hey, don’t recognize this number. Who is this?”
“Hey, it’s Kyle. We met earlier today in Holbrook. My wife keeps calling me an idiot for almost blowing myself up playing hero,” he answered, glaring at the woman on the couch grinning back at him.
“Ah, well, let her scold you, you know why you did it and we live to talk about it. Got to admit, didn’t think to hear from you so soon,” Ros admitted, sounding like she was in the middle of dinner.
“Did I interrupt
your meal?” he ventured, trying to be polite.
“Got a late dinner, yeah. A lot has happened since we parted ways. Long story. So, what can I do for you? Decided to take us up on that offer?” she asked, the bubbling of soda erupting on the other end of the line. “I’ve got to get back to my husband soon. He’s hyped up on morphine but I should at least try to get some crackers or something on his stomach.”
“He got hurt? How?” he asked, Carrie’s eyebrows rising as he waved her questions away.
“Long story, as I said. Happened on the way here. So, what’s up?”
“Carrie wanted some particulars, know that what she’s giving up is worth the risk,” he told her, putting all the blame for the call on his wife, which didn’t go unnoticed as she flipped him off. “We’ve had some bad shit happening around here, kind of opened up some options for us.”
“Bad shit how? Military? Survivors? Walkers?”
“Funny how those three get lumped together as problems,” he mused. “Days ago, that would have been an outrageous question, but today? Yeah, like you said, it’s a long story and a bit involved. Suffice it to say, we’ve got a Norman Bates situation here and we’re not feeling very comfortable, looking for greener pastures.”
“Well, we’ve got those. We have a lake, a large set of empty houses fully furnished, and enough supplies to keep three-hundred well taken care of for years. Not to mention the farmland and livestock for a renewable food source. We’re heavily armored, have a thirty-foot wall surrounding the place. Hell, we’ve even got a moat. There’s a bunker underground in case things get heavy, and medical supplies and equipment in case things get even worse. It’s like a small town, just without any box stores. No Dollar Stores or Mattress Firms, sorry. Damned things seem to be everywhere. Now I sound like a real estate agent for fucks sakes. There’s only so much I can sell you on it anyhow. We hardly know each other, and while I feel that I trust you, I know that’s just because of what we went through, nothing more. We don’t really know each other. All I can say is, if you take the chance, you won’t regret it. We’ve got the room and after today, we could use the extra set of hands.”
The Rotting Souls Series (Book 5): Charon's Vengeance Page 17
