Dead: Snapshot 01: Portland, Oregon

by T. W. Brown

  His last conscious thought was that he hoped that he would never again open his eyes.

  ***

  Jason started towards Ken. He’d watched in what was confusion at first as Ken held a group of children at gun point. However, one of them turned just so in the light to reveal a mangled face, and he knew instantly that these were not just regular children.

  When the man fired off a series of shots, each one emphasized by a dark figure dropping to the ground, Jason winced. He knew that he would likely face such horrors himself if he survived for any length of time, but that did not make it any easier to see. There was a hard rule in the joint: anybody who hurt a child was met with a special brand of prison justice.

  Hell, it was even hinted at on shows like that SVU program. However, the public might be a bit more squeamish if they had to witness some of the fates he’d seen in his years locked up. Hell, he’d been a participant in a few nasty beat down sessions when he was a young thug trying to make his way into one of the gangs on the inside. It was a standard rite of initiation to put the boots to a freak (the prison term for those in on sex crimes). One instance with the handle of a plunger always came to mind when he allowed himself to wander down that particular memory lane. He shook those thoughts off and dealt with the horror at hand.

  Stepping up beside the man who was still holding his pistol out for some reason, Jason took in the carnage as much as he could while giving thanks for the darkness and how the bright headlights only helped to at least partially mask what was now scattered about on the ground at his feet and Ken’s.

  “Holy shit,” Jason breathed, a feeling of actual sympathy growing inside him; not for the children lying dead on the driveway. They’d been dead well before they arrived here. His sympathy was for the man who’d just had to gun them down.

  He never saw the first punch coming as he turned with the intention of trying to offer a kind word to the man. The crunch and eye watering pain hinted at a busted nose; not that it would be his first. Out of the years inside, his own reflexes in a fight were still pretty sharp despite his having “turned over a new leaf” this last time down. Ducking low, Jason came up hard. It was not actually until after he smashed the barrel of the bat into the man’s jaw that Jason actually even remembered that he was still holding a weapon.

  “Jason!” Juanita yelled.

  He turned, fully expecting a scolding for having knocked the man out. It took him only a split second to remember that there were still a couple of zombies close by that needed to be dealt with.

  Allowing his anger to grow, Jason stormed to the closest one and swung as hard as he could. The next day, when his shoulders hurt, he would not have a clear recollection as to why. However, the ferocity of his swings were the most likely culprit as Jason cranked back and swung over and over until he felt the head burst under one of his blasts.

  As he stalked from one zombie to the next, he cursed himself for even giving that piece of crap a single ounce of his concern. He vowed that, situation be damned, it would not happen again. Part of him even began to hope that maybe one of the dead children might not actually be completely disabled and would crawl over and take a chomp out of Mister Ken Simpson.

  Another skull shattered under the rain of blows Jason dealt, and he stood up in search of the next closest target. It took him turning around three times before he realized that nothing was moving. At some point, Juanita and Erin had gone over to Ken and were just now helping the man to his feet. He had an arm slung over each of the women’s shoulders and looked like an injured athlete being taken off the field as he limped along with his head drooping low.

  Why do people always seem to limp after being hurt? he wondered as he fell in behind the slow-moving trio. I smashed that punk in the face, so why the fuck is he limping?

  He reached the front porch and stepped over the downed body of the guy who’d been firing the street sweeper. He paused as Juanita and Erin continued on with helping Ken up the stairs of the porch and then into the house where they had to step over the unmoving body of the man who had come out onto the porch holding a knife to some gal’s throat. Just inside, he could see another body on the floor of what looked like an entry hall. That had to be the woman Ken had shot in the chest.

  Jason reached down and picked up the nasty shotgun. While a weapon like this would be useless at a distance, it would wreak absolute havoc at close range. The headless zombie just a few feet away was physical testament to that fact.

  Slinging the weapon over his shoulder, he started up the stairs and was met by Erin. She had unburdened herself of Ken and was now crouching down beside the man who had come out with the hostage.

  “Hank Reynolds,” Erin answered the expression of an arched eyebrow that Jason shot her. “His sister Missy and brother Randy. One of the last of the old time drug families in these parts. The folks were strictly pot, but they were the type where you didn’t go snooping around their property if you knew what was good for ya. More than a couple of the Nosy Nellies came up missing back in the day.”

  Jason knew all about the old pot farms out in some of the rural areas surrounding Portland. He also knew very well that Meth had replaced pot for many as it was relatively cheap to manufacture and could turn a good profit. That show Breaking Bad had actually helped meth get a bump in popularity as stupid wanna-be thugs broke glass only to discover that the addiction was fast and ugly.

  “So what the hell are they doing here?” Jason asked as he moved up to join Erin beside the unconscious figure on the porch.

  “No idea.” Erin seemed satisfied that the young man was still breathing.

  Jason squinted a bit to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things. “This kid has been bit,” he said. Using his boot, he gave a nudge to the left arm of Hank Reynolds. Sure enough, there was a rip in the sleeve on the back of his arm. A near perfect imprint of teeth could be seen as well as a small rip just below that bite.

  Erin jumped back like a snake had just crawled out from under the body. She quickly regained her composure after checking her hands; obviously inspecting them for any of the man’s blood. When she did not see anything, she stood up.

  “Watch him. I’ll be right back.”

  Before Jason could ask anything, she trotted over to Ken’s truck. Jason watched her with more than a little amazement. She passed two zombies that had staggered up in the last moment or so. With next to no break in her stride, she had a knife in hand and would grab the zombie by the shoulder and plunge the blade into the temple, moving on almost before the body had even hit the ground.

  She reached the truck, opened the door and vanished from sight for a moment. When she reappeared, she had a small backpack in her hand. She jogged back, rummaging through the pack as she did so.

  “What’s up?” Jason asked as Erin tossed him the pack.

  “Grab a set of gloves,” Erin said as she pulled on a set of blue Latex gloves and knelt back beside the unmoving form of Hank Reynolds.

  Jason did as he was asked, but his eyes had wandered and he was watching Juanita and the woman who had been hostage just a few minutes ago. The pair were struggling to move Ken Simpson’s rather meaty frame up and onto a couch. They were talking in animated whispers, but the woman was telling Juanita something that was obviously upsetting. She kept looking up the hall with what could only be serious concern and a bit of fear.

  “His eyes are clear,” Erin announced, snapping Jason back to the situation at hand. “Maybe the infection hasn’t set in yet.”

  “So?” Jason asked, shaking his head.

  “I say we tie him up and see if he has anything useful for us.”

  “Useful?”

  “Jason?” Juanita’s voice called, interrupting before Erin could explain why she did not want to simply kill this guy and be done with it.

  “Yeah?” Jason turned and saw the woman standing a few feet away with a drawn expression that made him instantly take a step towards her with the mind to extend some form of comfort.


  “My sister and her son are tied up in her bedroom. They both have whatever this is and…” The woman that had been a hostage stepped forward beside Juanita and spoke as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She sniffed before continuing to speak, her hand coming out with an accusatory finger pointed at Hank Reynolds. “That man killed my niece. He stabbed her in the head with that knife!”

  Jason glanced down at the man and then back to the woman who was shaking. Whether it was from fear, nerves, or just an overdose of adrenaline, he could not tell. However, the expression of anger on her face was unmistakable.

  “Okay, we will take care of things one issue at a time,” Jason finally said as he put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Why don’t you go out and get your dogs while Erin and I get old Hank here secured. Juanita, go with her. No more going outside or anyplace alone. We work in teams from here on. Clear?”

  He glanced down at Erin who gave him a nod. She had already pulled out a zip tie and bound Hank’s arms behind his back.

  “That pack is like Batman’s utility belt,” he muttered.

  “You have no idea,” Erin said with a smile as she stood. “Now let’s take this guy down the hall.” She put out a hand and stopped the woman who was heading out the door with Juanita. “Rose was it? Violet’s little sister. Right?” The woman nodded. “Rose, is it okay if we put this guy in Crystal’s room?”

  The woman nodded vigorously and then rushed out of the house to her car. Jason watched just long enough to feel confident that there were no zombies close by before turning back to Erin.

  “So, you know these people?” It seemed like a stupid question the moment it came out of his mouth, and he heard Bill Engvall telling him that he was now a proud owner of a sign.

  “Actually, they are my neighbors,” Erin said as she grabbed Hank under the shoulders and nodded for Jason to get his feet. “They have a pretty good farm. If we combined my place and theirs, we would be set for…” She trailed off as if lost in thought. After a few seconds, she whistled. “Man, we would be self-sufficient for freakin’ ever. Hell, if the world goes to shit and never recovers, we would still be fine.”

  Jason considered the words and let his own mind wander for a moment. Most of the books he’d read as well as the movies and such, all had the people holding up in malls, or even prisons. He had always thought the first idea rather short-sighted. The second had its merits, but he was certainly not eager to return to a correctional facility unless it was the last possible resort.

  “Can I ask you something?” Jason finally spoke as they set the body of Hank Reynolds on a bed with some sort of Disney princess adorning it. Glancing around, he saw more of the same on the walls and felt a momentary pang of loss, guilt, and shame.

  He had a few baby-mamas out there, and this was the first time he’d even given them a thought. Granted, he had been out of their lives pretty much forever. They did not know him, and he had stopped receiving letters from the last of the mamas when he’d landed in prison this most recent time. He had no recent pictures beyond a few tattered baby pics that were somewhere in his small bag of personal effects that he’d walked out the gate with and, he felt the guilt deepen, that bag was back at Juanita’s place. He thought that he might have brought it in when he first arrived at her house. Honestly, he had not given it much thought with all that had gone on in the short time prior.

  “Depends on what you want to ask,” Erin said with what Jason instantly recognized as a guarded tone.

  “You spend your life waiting for this shit? The zombie apocalypse, I mean.”

  Erin laughed. It was actually a pleasant sound, and he noticed right away that she was very pretty when she wasn’t being such a hard ass and carrying whatever the hell chip she was toting on her shoulder.

  “No,” Erin said with a shake of her head. “Honestly, we were not really serious when compared to most preppers. Our concerns where started by my dad way back in the days of it being us versus the Russians. My dad was just sure that some fool would push the button.”

  “So you got an underground bunker and everything?”

  “Oh yeah, but over the years it became more of a place to sneak away to and make out. Heck, when I got back from college, I actually rented it out as a place to live.” Something changed in her voice and Jason glanced over his shoulder to ensure that they were alone (except for the unconscious guy a few feet away). He felt like this woman was about to tell him something that was some sort of secret. Or at least that was the vibe he got just before she spoke.

  “That was all good until I came out.”

  That sentence hung in the air for a moment. Jason did not say a word, and he could tell that Erin was waiting for some sort of sarcastic comment. That face that he’d seen when she laughed just a moment ago was gone. It had been replaced by the same stone cold look he’d seen since they’d met.

  “I take it your family wasn’t cool with it?” Jason finally said with a shrug. Erin nodded, but her eyes were boring holes into him and her lips were pressed tight. “That must’ve sucked. I can’t say I understand…” her expression started to grow harder if that were even possible and Jason hurried to finish his statement. “I mean about your specific thing. But I can understand when your family kicks you to the curb. I lost everything with my going in and out of prison. But those are so different. My family bailed because I was a screw up. Yours were just stupid.”

  Her lips curled up in a smile and some of the ice melted from her eyes. “I think you and I are gonna get along pretty damn good.”

  “Probably better than me and that ex-cop out there or whatever Ken was before.”

  Jason shot a look towards the living room and saw Juanita and the woman named Rose coming in with two very excited dogs. He thought they might be some kind of herding dog or something. One of them looked like the kind you would find at a beach chasing and catching a Frisbee. That had always blown him away how a dog could learn to do such a thing.

  “Yeah, about that, you guys have to either get along or one of you has to go,” Erin said, pulling his attention back to her.

  “He’s the one who hit me first!”

  “Yep, and I did not say that you would be the one kicked out, but having two guys at each other in confined spaces like we are gonna be living in is just a recipe for disaster.” Erin joined Jason in the hallway, closing the door behind her.

  “You won’t be having any problems from my end, but I won’t take crap from that guy.”

  “And I won’t be giving any,” a voice called from the living room causing both Erin and Jason to jump.

  The pair walked into the living room to see Ken struggling to sit up on the couch. Both Juanita and Rose were standing just inside the front door and the two dogs were looking around the room as if trying to determine which of the humans was hiding the treats.

  Circe sat obediently at her master’s side, but Imp had moved a few feet away, effectively placing himself between Rose, the stranger on the couch, and the two strangers emerging from the hallway. He sniffed the air and his head lowered as he locked on something he did not care for down that same hallway.

  “We need to catch our breath for a moment,” Erin said , putting an end to the silence. “But we have some big decisions to make in the next several hours. Also, I need to let the people at my place know that I made it back and that I am okay.”

  “Before we do anything or go anyplace, what about Hank?” Rose asked.

  The First Night of the End of the World

  “I say we just kill him,” Jason spoke first after everybody else seemed to stand around and look at one another with the same blank expression.

  “What?” Rose surprised Jason by being the one to protest. “We can’t just murder somebody!”

  “It isn’t murder.” Jason shook his head. “This would be a mercy killing. That guy is a dead man walking.”

  “What do you mean?” Juanita asked, her nose crinkling in confusion.

  “He’s bit,
” Erin answered before Jason could say anything. “The word I have heard is that people are not making it more than a couple of days. In fact, that is the very reason I wouldn’t go to one of those so-called FEMA rescue centers. They are taking in people who have been bitten. I give it a day tops before those places are nothing more than hives of the walking dead.”

  “Being a little over-dramatic, aren’t you?” Ken scoffed.

  “Not at all.” Erin turned to face the man who had managed to make it to a fully upright position. She noted that his right eye was swelling nicely and looked like it might be little more than a slit if he didn’t put some ice on it. It’s gonna suck to be him in the morning, she thought before continuing. “That is the reason this is not going to clear up any time soon and we might want to be thinking long term…like forever. People are not going to start to allow themselves to believe what is happening until it is too late. By then, the zombies will already have the overwhelming numbers and our infrastructure will be on its way to being a thing of myths and legends.”

  “So we are really going to call them that?” Rose said in a soft voice.

  Erin glanced over and saw not so much as a realization as she did acceptance. “Call ‘em what you like. It won’t change anything.”

  “Then maybe you should be the one to go and kill that kid in there,” Ken gave Jason a nod.

  “Because I’m an ex-con?” Jason spat. “Which I guess you all assume means I won’t have any problems killing somebody. And if this is all just temporary, then the lot of you get to keep your hands clean.”

  “Okay,” Ken shrugged. “But I was just going with the idea that since you made that choice, you carry it out. If you weren’t paying attention outside, I put down…”

  His voice faded, and a dark cloud of something Jason thought might very well be sorrow crashed down and shone in the man’s eyes. Jason mentally slapped himself. He had all but forgotten those child zombies that Ken had put down. And it had also been Ken Simpson who shot the other two attackers. Sure, they had come out with a street sweeper and been about to mow down anything that moved, but killing is killing. No matter who you are, unless you are a pure sociopath, it stains the soul.