Our staccato of small arms fire was punctuated by the occasional rifle shot. I turned to look at Thomas and saw him picking off Walkers that were emerging from their hiding spots. We weren’t even in the store yet and we were attracting too much attention. “We need to hurry this up,” I yelled. I had those with shotguns take out small groups to speed things along. The wave turned into a stream, which turned into a trickle and then stopped altogether. We waited. Nothing came. “Lights out,” I called. Everyone pulled out 1000 lumen flashlights. The lights cut through the darkness as we entered the store. Thomas and Justin stayed at the door, Thomas with a rifle and Justin a shotgun to guard our exit.
We broke up into groups of three, Sam, Jason and I were acting as points with two others as backup. We would clean out the store aisle by aisle and then start bagging and loading. “Spread out. Keep in contact. Be careful.”
My team moved further into the store, moving down each aisle slowly, finding the dead and undead alike on the ground. These were the ones who were too rotten to walk but were still attempting to move. They drug themselves inch by inch by their skeletal hands, leaving wet trails of decomposing juice behind them. I was really missing the Vick’s right about now. Each undead we came upon was put down with one bullet through their skull. After several minutes we met up in the middle aisle and declared the store clear and regrouped at the front of the store. We spent the next forty-five minutes clearing shelves and stuffing our cars. It was tiring work and became even more difficult when we dealt with the canned food. Each bag weighed a ton, leaving exhausted by the end.
We were finally done, having gotten most of the usable goods, our cars bursting, we’d be good for a while. “Alright,” I called out closing my trunk, “let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Just a sec,” said Sarah.
“What? Why?”
“I want to take one last quick look around, see if we missed anything important.”
“No. We have to go. We’ve been here too long,” I said looking at the steady stream of Walkers coming out of the hills. Thomas was lying down on the roof of Sam’s truck keeping watch.
“Just a quick look. Don’t worry so much.”
“Fine, I’ll come with you.”
“No, I’m fine,” she disappeared into the dark store.
“Sam. Go with her.” He nodded and took off after her, battle bat in hand. It wasn’t a minute before I heard a yell, a gunshot and then nothing “Sarah!” I yelled as I raced into the darkness. I had no light and had to trust my memory to guide me. I heard Sam grunting from the effort of swinging his bat. I also heard his bat connect with several targets. What I didn’t hear was any sign of Sarah. No shots, no screaming, nothing. I reached Sam, sliding a little on the bloody floor. He was fighting off three Walkers, two already on the floor and more coming through an open door.
“Where’s…” I began.
“Floor. She slipped and fell. I don’t think she’s been bitten,” he said breathlessly.
I saw her then, lying on the floor. She looked like she could be sleeping. For a second I forgot where I was, fear seeped into my soul when I heard her scream. Steadying my resolve I knelt and took her head in my hands. I turned her face towards me and saw a gash on her forehead bleeding freely. It was a minor wound and she should be ok. I stared at her for what seemed like forever, my heart pounding. “Everything’s going to be ok, I promise,” I whispered.
My gaze broke as Sam yelled, “Ryan. I could use some fucking help right about now.”
My eyes snapped up to him as I stood, drawing my pistol and shooting each Walker in the head. “I told you guns were better.”
“Fuck you, let’s go.”
I turned and began to pick up Sarah but before I could I heard an angry yell come from Sam. I turned in time to see him shake off a Walker that had attached itself to his leg. With an angry yell, Sam lifted his booted foot and brought it down on the things skull, crushing it. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he spat. I scooped up Sarah and followed him out.
Outside I heard Christina yell, “Oh my God! What happened?” Her hands flying to cover her mouth.
“She opened a supply room door that wasn’t cleared, a bunch of Walkers came out. She shot one before turning to run. She slipped and fell, knocked herself out before I could get to her,” Sam said quickly and started for his truck.
I handed Sarah to Justin and said, “Put her in my car.” With her safe I called to Sam as he limped past me, “What’s with the leg?”
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
“Were you bit?”
“No.”
“Show me.”
“I’m fine.”
My anger and panic flared as I pulled my gun and repeated, “Show me.”
We locked eyes, “Fine,” he said angrily and pulled up his pant leg. A perfect bite mark on his calf, blood flowing freely down his leg.
I still had my gun pointed at him but lowered it slowly. “Get in the car with Thomas. Jessica, you drive Sam’s truck,” I said solemnly.
“But…” started Jessica.
“Just do it,” I yelled. “We’re going home.”
One the drive back I was lost in thought and only entered reality to check on Sarah every few minutes. Just beyond our roadblock I pulled over and stopped, the rest of the caravan following. I grabbed my pack, got out and stood in the middle of the road. Everyone slowly did the same. I motioned for Sam and he walked over to me. “You can’t come back with us,” I said firmly.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Take my pack,” I said offering it to him. He took it and slung it over a shoulder with his own.
“Can I say goodbye?”
“Of course,” I motioned for everyone to come over. For the next few minutes, Sam said goodbye to each and every one of the people he had come to call his friend. He took the time to speak privately to Justin, Matt, Jason, and Thomas. I saw their heads nodding as they shook and rejoined the group.
Finally, it was my turn. I walked over to him and said “Well, I guess this is it. It’s been fun.”
“Yeah. We should totally do this whole Zombie Apocalypse thing again,” he said sarcastically.
“Yeah for sure, sometime soon,” I said returning his grin.
We hugged and he said, “Tell Liz I’m sorry. Tell… tell her that I never meant to hurt her.”
“I will.” We ended our hug and I held him at arm’s length by his shoulders. “Thank you. Thank you for saving her. For keeping her safe. You don’t know how much it means to me, how much she means to me.”
“At least I got to be the hero for once,” he smiled grimly.
“I’ll never forget it.”
“Well let me let you in on a little secret,” he said smiling, “she likes you, man. She really does. So stop being a pansy and go for it. Life’s too short,” he gestured at his leg.
“I’ll think about it.”
“No. Don’t think, just do.” He said turning his back to.
Before he had taken three steps I pulled out my pistol and shot him in the back of the head. The air was suddenly filled with angry yells and terrified screams. I noticed that my hand was shaking and my skin had instantly gone clammy. I holstered the gun and said, “Get in the cars,” I climbed in mine and drove the rest of the short way home.
Once parked I climbed out and said, “Unload the cars. Get Sarah inside. Put her in my bed and make sure she’s ok. Bandage the cut on her forehead,” I said quickly and to no one in particular. Without another word I climbed onto the ATV in the garage and left to get Sam’s body. I drove halfway up the driveway and turned into the long grass along the tree line. I choked back my emotions and clenched my fists until I could feel my nails digging into my palms. I took one look at Sam’s body and lost all control of my actions. I turned, doubled over and vomited on the ground. Growling, I wiped my mouth and spat the bile on the ground. I spent the rest of the daylight hours digging a grave for Sam, the sun setting by the time I was done. I
sank to my knees by the fresh mound of earth and stared at my hands. They were covered in dirt but I could see only the blood of my best friend. I closed my eyes and felt a peace of myself fall away with the death of my last link to my old life.
Getting up I wiped my hands on my pants, squared my shoulders and walked inside. Everyone, including Sarah, was in the living room and was silent. It was the kind of silence where you know everyone was just talking about you but didn’t want you to know it. I made eye contact with each one of them, noticing red faces, tears, and clenched jaws, and said, “Sam was my friend, my brother and I did what was necessary.”
“Necessary!?” shouted Hannah, “You shot him while his back was turned. How could you, you coward.”
I dropped my gaze to the floor and said, “You might be right, but I didn’t want the last thing he saw to be his friend pointing a gun at him.” I looked up and saw fear, anger, and pity in the eyes of my friends and I couldn’t stand it. I had to get away from them. I grabbed my pack and a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen and headed to the door.
As I laid my hand on the knob I heard my name said so low it was nearly a whisper. “James,” Sarah said as she laid her hand on my shoulder. I stiffened. I wanted to turn to and look at her. I wanted to take comfort in her. I wanted nothing more than to block out the world and immerse myself in her presence, but I couldn’t. I was ashamed of what I had done, disgusted with myself and I didn’t deserve to be near her, near any of them.
I shrugged off her hand and said, with every bit of cold fury I could muster, “Don’t follow me,” I slammed the door behind me hard enough that it rattled in its frame.
I felt rage in my stomach, in my chest, coursing through my veins. I had felt this before, this anger, but it was never this intense. I had known for a long time that this violence, was in me. I knew I was like many men, especially those who knew how to fight, that I had the ability to hurt other people and so I was all the more determined to control my anger, to keep it in check. I had let it go twice in my life, both times involving people harassing my little sister, and both times I walked away with bloody fists and a stomach full of regret. Those two times I had an outlet for my rage, the guys who threatened my sister. They were the bad guys, they became the enemy. But this time, this time, I was the bad guy and I was feeling more rage than ever. I felt this anger, not because of my friends who wouldn’t understand what I did, not because Sam was dead, not even because it was the stupid fucking Walkers that did it. It was because I’d failed, I’d let him die. It wasn’t because of the bite or my bullet, it was because I hadn’t planned for everything. It was my fault and I hated myself because of it.
“Fuck,” I said out loud, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” What kind of man was I becoming? Sure I threatened him after the Liz incident and I’m sure I would have followed through with it but this was different. I hadn’t even given him an option, I’d just shot him. I unscrewed the cap from the bottle I had brought with me and took a swig. Looking around I saw that my feet had taken me to a familiar path. I walked for another five minutes trying not to think and emerged in my old hang out spot.
My friends and I had spent a great deal of time in this spot. It was far from the Batcave but it had been our own getaway. We had spent the time carrying an old couch out to this spot, a couple folding chairs and a table. We had cut away the brush from a group of trees and strung up some canvas tarps to keep the area relatively dry, as dry as it could be in Oregon. We had spent many of our teenage day’s playing cards, drinking and talking about life out here. When I was fifteen I threw my first party back here. Rather than chance wrecking my house we had expanded the coverage, brought out more tables and chairs, strung some lights hooked up to a car battery and dug a fire pit. We had coolers filled with drinks and a portable boom box, the one we used inside. I had found my first real girlfriend at that party. I smiled ironically, this had been where I had come to find peace.
Walking over to the couch I saw that it was weather beaten but it was still usable. I sat down, I was so tired, so over the struggle. I shifted my weight and pulled my pistol from its holster. I stared at the matte black finish, the small nick near the base of the grip. Dark thoughts began to rush through me, the simplest answer was gripped in my hands. One quick trigger pull and I wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing ever again. I inhaled deeply and let out a long shuddering breath. I put the gun away and stood, pulling down a section of the canvas and draping it over the couch. I didn’t know what could be living between the cushions but I didn’t want to lay directly on it. I gathered up some firewood that was still stored out here and began building a fire. I didn’t plan on going back to the house tonight and I didn’t feel like being cold all night. I dug out my lighter and lit the small pile of leaves and twigs. For the next few minutes I gradually added wood to the fire making sure there was space for the air to help fuel it. Soon enough I had a pretty large fire going. I sat on the couch and rested my head in my hands. I let a small smile appear on my lips and, without lifting my head, said “Come on out Sarah,” I waited a few seconds without an answer until I heard a greatly exasperated sigh and heard her leave the cover of the woods.
“How do you do that?” she asked with frustration in her voice.
I let out a chuckle and looked up at her, “You had to run to catch up to me, so when you got closer I heard you breathing heavily. From that, I could tell you weren’t one of the guys. It was getting darker on our way here, dark enough for you to not be able to see exactly where you were going and you tripped and almost fell. You caught yourself but let out a little gasp. But what really gave you away? The fact that you are the only one who would ignore what I said and follow me.” I got up and walked over to her, “You’re just too stubborn,” I smiled. She smiled and shivered as a breeze blew through the small clearing. I saw that she as only wearing a light sweatshirt and didn’t have a pack with her. She did, on the other hand, have her gun. Good girl, I thought. “Come here,” I said, walking over to the couch where my pack sat. I reached inside and pulled out my extra sweatshirt. “Here,” I said offering it to her.
“No, I’m fine.”
I frowned at her, “Put it on.”
“No, really…”
I cut her off “It’s just going to get colder and if you don’t put it on I’ll take you back to the house and after I leave again I won’t just plow through the woods, I’ll make sure you can’t follow me.” She stood there in silent refusal. I stared back at her with hard eyes until her shoulders slumped slightly and she took the sweatshirt. “You don’t always have to argue with me you know,” I said walking back to the couch.
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” she said lightly.
I sat on the couch with a groan and picked up the bottle of Jack I had walked out with. She came and sat next to me. “Can I buy you a drink?” I asked offering her the bottle. She shook her head no. I cracked the cap and raised the bottle to my lips, but before I could take a sip I glanced at Sarah and saw a sad look on her face as she watched me. The combination of the sad look, intense gaze and the flickering firelight casting wavering shadows made my heart skip a beat and my breath catch in my throat. I had never seen anyone look so sad and yet so beautiful at the same time. I lowered the bottle and replaced the cap. I raised the bottle so the amber liquid was caught in the firelight. “You know,” I said still staring at the liquid, “I had planned to come out here, drink this whole damn bottle, and pass out fast enough that I wouldn’t have the chance to dream. But suddenly,” I said putting it down, “I’m not all that thirsty.”
“Oh,” she said raising her eyebrows, “and why not?”
What could I tell her? That I still wanted to? That I wanted to drink my sorrows away, drink this whole damned world into oblivion? But that I wouldn’t now that she was here because I couldn’t leave her unprotected again? I couldn’t tell her that. I smiled at her, “I think the present company intoxicating enough.”
She snorted, she actual
ly snorted, and said laughing, “That was so corny. I mean, come on! Really?” I laughed with her and just nodded my head. After our laughter died down she asked in an innocent voice, “Don’t you owe me the rest of a back rub?”
I let out a little laugh and said with mock horror, “Oh my. Of course. How could I forget?”
Survivors Series (Book 1): Heroes Aren't Born Page 15
