by T. W. Brown
One last thing, Trevor’s guns are in the safe in his study. The combination on the safe is 1-30-2-40-24. I don’t know how much ammo he has in there, but it should be plenty if you need to go that way. There is a baseball bat in Jacob’s room and a variety of weapons in the barn besides that small sledge hammer. I would save the gun to defend against the living. I have a scary feeling that they may be more dangerous than the zombies.
I love you.
Violet
Rose turned to the figure in the bed. It struggled and strained to get at her, its teeth gnashing on air with an audible click. Despite her sister’s request, she was not ready to deal with killing Violet just yet—or the zombie version if that was truly the case. She would go check on her nephew first.
Just as she was about to open the door, she heard Crystal scream, “Jacob! No!”
Beginning of the End
“What the hell?” Jason swore, untangling himself from Juanita and moving towards the sound. Ken took a step in that direction, but Jason held a hand up. “Don’t you have your hands full enough already?”
Without another word, he moved over to the row of cars from where the sound had come. It was too dark to see very well, and he did not have a flashlight. When the sound came again, Jason re-oriented his search and moved in as fast as he dared, taking care that he watched his footing. The last thing he wanted to do was step on an infant.
The cry came from right on the other side of the car Jason was moving around. The stench he was now associating with the undead was growing stronger. He looked around, worried that one of those things might be closing in. He saw nothing and hurried. He could worry about what to do with a baby later. He stepped around the bumper and froze. Once his eyes and brain were in sync again, he staggered back.
“Jesus!” he gasped.
“What is it?” Ken took a step forward, hating that he had this unconscious body in his arms.
Jason looked down and could not hold back the shudder. The body crawling towards him had been ripped almost in half. All that remained was the upper torso, one arm, and, of course, the head of the woman; which was, at the moment, craned up towards him. Jason was grateful for the darkness; he did not want to see clearly enough so that the details of what was crawling towards him could etch themselves in his brain along with all the other images.
He raised his foot and stomped down on the head of the thing. That almost cost him as the skull impacted on the pavement and his foot slid down the side. He’d read that move so many times in books that he’d actually convinced himself you could give a zombie a good stomp on the head and crush its skull.
Stepping back, Jason was stopped in his tracks when the sound of the baby cry came from the pathetic creature on the ground. He had already deduced that the noise came from this creature, but having it confirmed with his own eyes somehow eased his mind a great deal. This would complicate things just a bit. How would a person know if they were hearing a baby or one of the undead?
“Well?” Ken called.
“Umm…” Jason was at a loss how to explain, but he did not have to as the man pushed in beside him.
Jason shot the guy a sideways glance. Yep, this was a cop. If not, then he sure as hell should be with the attitude he was putting off. Before the man could ask any questions, the zombie lifted its head up at them and made a mewl that stretched into the baby cry sound.
“Holy crap,” Ken gasped.
“Yeah,” Jason agreed.
A series of moans reminded the two men that there were other threats. Jason looked around to see that the parking lot was becoming busier. Two cars were prowling in that search for a spot. This, in turn, was bringing in more of the undead.
“Sound,” Jason said to nobody in particular.
“What?” Ken asked from beside him.
“The zombies are obviously attracted to sound.”
“And what makes you say that?” Ken challenged.
Jason walked over to a car and slapped it on the hood. He had his eyes fixed on a pair of zombies a few rows over. He was rewarded by their heads turning his direction and then altering their course. He watched as one bumped against a parked car and then seemed to struggle as to which direction to go.
“And they aren’t too incredibly bright,” Ken mumbled as he watched Jason’s hypothesis being given credence.
“That could be used to a person’s advantage,” Jason added. When he saw Ken shoot him a look, he took that as an invitation to explain. “Let’s say you are trapped someplace. If you can create a noise in another location, then the zombies might wander off and allow you to escape.”
Ken nodded and made a low noise in his throat. Jason reached down and picked up a few pieces of loose gravel and then tossed it at a car to his right, away from where he had parked the truck. Sure enough, the zombies in the area all turned and then slowly began to wander in that direction. All except for one that was now getting too close for comfort. It seemed to be locked on him and now had its arms out, hands opening and closing as it drew near.
He began to back away. With no weapon handy to actually do anything significant, he could only retreat. He had taken a few steps back when a dark figure moved past him fast. Something whizzed through the air and then there was a heavy thunking sound.
The figure stepped back and Jason watched in awe as the person put a foot on the shoulder of the walking corpse and yanked a three foot machete from the crown of the skull of the now defunct zombie. The body toppled unceremoniously as the figure turned to face him. Pulling the hood back, a woman’s face was revealed in the weak glow of the overhead parking lot lights.
“Just standing there is a good way to get bit by a zom,” the woman said with a sniff. She leaned down and wiped her blade clean on the shirt of the zombie she had just dispatched. After sliding it back into the leather sheath on her hip, she reached a hand out to Jason. “Erin West, and I wouldn’t stick around in this parking lot very long.”
***
Ken felt more than saw the figure move past him and plow into the zombie that had not been as easily distracted as the others. His mind made a note that this one had been the closest; that might be important.
He saw a wickedly curved and sturdy machete come down in an overhand chop that cleaved the approaching man with the ripped shirt that was torn from the left shoulder. Even in the light from above, Ken could see the huge chunk torn away from what had probably been a pretty beefy trap. This guy’s muscles had not done him any good fighting off a zombie.
The figure that had come out of seemingly nowhere made a bit of a show of pulling the machete free and then turning to face them. “Just standing there is a good way to get bit by a zom,” the woman said with a sniff. She leaned down and wiped her blade clean on the shirt of the zombie. After sliding it back into the leather sheath on her hip, she reached a hand out to the guy Ken had decided was either a gang member or ex-con. “Erin West, and I wouldn’t stick around in this parking lot very long.”
“Jason. Jason Edwards. And that is Juanita Reyes.” The man pointed to the Hispanic woman that stood a few feet away, her head trying to turn every direction at the same time as she watched the zombies once again redirecting their steps to come for this most recent bit of noise. “And maybe we should get the hell out of here before—”
Two cars came barreling into the parking lot, cutting off whatever else the man was about to say as they slammed into each other. The smaller compact model did not stand a chance against the SUV and careened into the curb and then bounced up and into the shrubbery that had been planted around the big sign announcing the entrance to the Legacy Emergency Room.
Ken watched as the SUV barely even slowed down and continued into the parking lot. His eyes tracked it as it raced to the covered entrance and skidded to a stop.
“We should go,” the woman named Juanita said in a nervous tone that made her sound almost like she was being choked.
“Good idea,” the woman wearing the hooded sweatshirt pi
ped in. She sounded more enthusiastic than she did afraid. Ken thought he might like this stranger. She was certainly a person of action.
“Where do you suggest?” Jason asked, moving back to Juanita’s side and looking around with clenched fists.
“Out of the city,” Erin spoke up. “I was trying to get to my friend. She is a nurse here, but I was on the third floor looking for her when I ran into about thirty of those things…the zombies. Sad to say it out loud in front of strangers, but I decided right then that it was every man and woman for him or herself.”
Yep, Ken thought, I like this gal just fine.
“I have a pickup, managed to get a few things from Freddy’s, but not nearly enough to last longer than a couple of days if the five of us stay together.” Ken shifted the girl in his arms that had remained unconscious through this entire ordeal.
He was surprised at the instant urge to simply put her someplace like the back of a car or something, and be on his way. It wasn’t like he was responsible for her. Besides, with the bullet wound in her leg, she was not going to fare well without medical assistance.
“Let’s meet up around the corner at Albina Park and figure out what to do,” Erin suggested.
There was a scream from the hospital’s emergency room entrance. Everybody turned at once to see figures almost vomiting forth from the entrance/exit doors. Apparently the SUV’s owner had let out or drawn the attention of however many of the undead had built up in the emergency room. He turned back to see Erin already backing away.
“We’ll see you there,” Jason was calling over his shoulder as he and Juanita hurried to their car.
Ken went to his truck. He paused at another pickup. This one had a nice camper shell over the bed. He leaned against the rear bumper and checked the hatch. The knob turned and he looked around like a guilty child expecting to be discovered at any second.
Shifting the girl over one shoulder, he opened the little shell covering the truck’s bed and then laid the girl down. He glanced at the leg. She was lucky. From his cursory gaze, it looked like the bullet had passed through the muscle. Had it hit bone, she would certainly be done for.
“Sorry, kid,” Ken whispered. “You ain’t my problem.”
A voice in his head ranted that he was doing the wrong thing. It was a voice he’d heard many times over the years. It was a voice that he had learned to ignore.
Closing the hatch, Kevin climbed into the cab of his truck. He barely got the door shut when something bounced into the front seat. He’d almost forgotten about the dog. Actually, in truth, he had forgotten entirely. That is why he had reached out and grabbed the excited Golden Retriever by the throat out of sheer reflex.
“You stupid dog,” he grumbled, his hand releasing its grip. Almost like it had already forgotten the momentary harsh treatment, the dog leaned forward and licked the side of Ken’s face.
He saw a car pull out of a nearby parking space and then head for the exit. He saw it turn left.
“I guess we are going to a park,” Ken muttered. He did not even notice the Golden Retriever’s ears perk up at the use of the “P” word.
***
Rose flung the door open and rushed out into the hallway. Just across the hall and to her left, Crystal was trying to keep her brother Jacob at bay. The boy was reaching and clutching at his sister.
His damaged hand was a hideous mess, and almost made worse by the several Band-Aids that still dangled, now stuck in place by the dried and blackened blood. The thing that caught Rose’s attention was the complete lack of emotion on the boy’s face. It was slack and blank. Were it not for how he was snapping his teeth as he tried to bite his sister, he might look more like a discolored mannequin than anything else.
Charging in, Rose yanked Crystal away and kicked the little boy backwards. The little girl reacted a second later, screaming for Rose not to hurt her little brother. The toddler was struggling to his feet as Rose wrapped Crystal in her arms to keep her from running to Jacob’s aid.
And then the strangest thing happened. The little boy stood, cocking his head to one side and then the other before turning and walking away. He vanished around the corner into the living room. Now Rose was very confused.
She turned to Crystal and gripped the girl by the shoulders, making it a point of looking her in the eyes. When the girl’s head started to turn to look into her mother’s room, Rose caught her by the chin and eased her head back so that they were looking at each other again.
“I want you to go into your room right now.” Rose paused and considered the situation and what she could do. “You stay there until I call you out for dinner.” The little girl opened her mouth to protest and Rose cut her off. “I mean it, young lady!” In that instant, she winced inwardly as she heard her mother as well as her sister in that line.
Amazingly, it seemed to work as the little girl turned obediently and went into her room. Crystal turned and gripped the edge of the door, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
“You’re being mean. You used to be the nice Auntie Rose, but now you are just a big meanie!” And then the door slammed.
Not for the first time in her life, Rose thanked the powers that be that she had never had any children of her own. That was starting to feel like a blessing.
As she stood, she heard something topple and crash in the living room. She shot her sister a look, more to confirm that the woman was still firmly secured. She took just a second to be impressed with the children’s ability to tie knots.
“Must be a country thing,” Rose said to herself as she shut the door on Violet’s room. One problem at a time. She had to tend to Jacob first.
She reached the end of the hallway and paused, listening closely for any sounds coming from the living room. At first there was nothing, but then she heard the squeak of somebody stepping on a loose floorboard.
“Jay-cob!” Rose sing-songed.
A soft moan came from the living room with a guttural sound that had no business coming from that baby. She reached the corner and has hit once more with the stench that she was now certain indicated that Jacob had whatever his mother had come down with. She knew what she had seen, but that did not make it any easier to accept that this was some sort of horror movie nightmare come true.
Holding her breath, Rose snuck a look around the corner. Jacob was standing in front of the television, his head cocked to the side. From behind, and with his damaged hand out of sight, he could be perfectly fine; just a little boy staring at the images on the television. Rose glanced at the screen herself and saw footage taken from the air. It showed a section of a city, she had no idea if it was Portland or someplace else. However, she saw several clusters of people engaged in things that a child should not be watching.
The camera zoomed in as three individuals dragged a woman to the ground and began tearing into her. The red spray that shot up made it clear as to the woman’s fate. There were bodies in the street. And worse.
Is that a leg? she thought as the camera continued to pan the screen.
The reporter was speaking in a voice that was not normally heard on the evening news. This person was afraid, and the words he was reading from his teleprompter did not really match his face or tone.
“…instructed to remain home. The rumors that this is some form of terrorism seem unfounded as the reports have come in from practically every corner of the globe. The CDC insists that this is simply an illness and that these are not the dead come back to life. Dr. Linda Sing had this to say…”
There was a flicker as somebody in the control room switched over to the canned video reel of the CDC spokeswoman. A middle-aged woman with short, dark hair appeared on screen with her name and title just above the news ticker. Her pale skin looked even more washed out under the lights. This was exaggerated further by the fact that she wore absolutely no make-up.
“Those rumors of the dead coming back and attacking the living are beyond ludicrous. Ignoring the pure physiological impossibility, there is
simply no way this can be considered with any seriousness.”
Rose was pretty sure she had already heard this exact same report. She needed to hear something new…and helpful. She needed to know why people with their insides torn out were walking. She needed to know why a bite was turning her sister into the creature in that bed. And then, there was Jacob.
She stepped out into the living room. The little boy continued to ignore her. Looking around, Rose spied something that gave her an idea. It was a spool of rough twine; the same kind that had been used to tie up Violet!
There was a voice in the back of her mind that was telling her to heed Violet’s letter. Despite all that she had seen, Rose warred with what she should do. After all, this was not some random stranger; it wasn’t even her jerk of an ex-husband. This was her sister…her nephew.
Moving over to the island counter that divided the kitchen from the dining room, Rose grabbed the spool of twine and turned back to discover Jacob was now watching her. His little head was tilted to one side. She forced herself to ignore the filmed over eyes with the black capillaries making him look sinister. She kept her eyes from looking at the missing digits on his hand or the blood that he had smeared all over himself while in his room.
For just a second, Rose had to fight back tears. What had that poor baby been thinking after being bitten by his mom? How painful must it have been to actually have two fingers bitten off? She’d slammed hers in the door more than a few times over the years and that had been terribly painful.
“Jacob?” Rose knelt and tried to sound as sweet as possible. Maybe that would help. She could not necessarily take the fact that he had tried to attack his sister as proof positive that he was a monster. He was a little brother, after all. Didn’t that make him a little monster in some manner already?
