I understood what she was pointing out, but I always believed in helping others, even if it means me getting hurt. I needed to learn I am incapable of saving everybody, no matter how hard I tried. All I gave in return was a sigh, then nodded my head in acknowledgment. Never dare to argue the case with my mom, because Mom’s will always win an argument, that’s one superpower they possess.
Chapter 4
Everyone appeared primed and waiting to head out when Mom and I exited the bathroom. Jess and Alastor stood by her cot, strapping in their weapons. She giggled like a schoolgirl at whatever practiced dialogue he was spewing. I rolled my eyes and strolled up to Leland. He held my guns ready for me and I raised on tiptoe to offer him a thank you smooch for remembering my clothes. With boots and jacket on, I swung the rifle across my back, and tucked the handgun in the waistband of my jeans. Leland carried our duffel bag stuffed with ammo and melee weapons, just in case.
“Andrew, is the coast clear?” I asked my uncle as he returned from the front of the store.
“Yep, kiddo, you guys are all set. Not a biter in sight, so far. Be careful and stay alert out there, it will be nightfall soon,” he replied with concern in his tone.
He felt useless sometimes because we “younger bloods” always ventured out on the dangerous supply runs. But he developed a bum knee, and it chose to lock up on him at the most inconvenient times. It left him vulnerable. I didn’t want him getting injured when we were perfectly capable of taking care of things. His responsibility was staying with my mom and the kids, keeping them safe and sound. Speaking of the kids…
“Autumn, Autumn! Where you going?” Little Benji squealed, charging at me full force. I planted my feet and caught him as he jumped into my arms. He made me giggle as I hugged him tight, the scent of his blueberry shampoo wafting up from his soft blonde hair.
“I’ve got to go get us more food, sweetie. We have to keep you big and strong so you can help keep this place safe,” I told him excitedly. He lifted his tiny arm and flexed his muscles. Then growled like a big bear to demonstrate how tough he could be, which produced a snicker from us all.
“You better watch out, you might hurt somebody with those things,” Leland teased Benji, tickling him until he squealed with laughter. “You’ll have to tell me your secret one day and I can have big strong muscles like yours, buddy.”
“My mommy always said, ‘Drink lots of milk, Benji, and you’ll grow big and strong like Daddy,’ so that’s what I did! But we don’t have any milk here so maybe you can find me some, Autumn, huh?” he asked in his squeaky voice.
I flinched when he mentioned his parents. We rescued poor Benji from an abandoned gas station when his father turned into one of the undead and Leland resorted to putting a bullet in his brain. His mother went missing immediately after the outbreak and his aunt Heather, who said she would come pick him up, stopped calling about two months ago. I feared the worst had happened to her, as well. So we treated Benji like our own. Same goes for Vicki.
I pushed his golden locks out of his eyes and replied, “I’ll see what I can find, honey. Meanwhile, you help uncle Andrew keep the girls safe and hold the fort down while we’re gone, okay?”
“Oh you bet I will! I’ll kick and punch those stinkin’ monsters ‘til they run away yelping,” he boasted, and started wiggling in my arms. I sat him down on his feet as he showed us how much he would beat those stinkin’ monsters up, using Leland as the demonstration dummy. It was a convincing method of kicking and punching simultaneously. I smirked at him and shook my head. Benji had a knack for bringing the group together and making things seem normal in this screwed up world. In the middle of a major epidemic, he managed to make us smile and be thankful to still be alive. He and Vicki are our future generation and any of us here would lay down our lives for them. They were needed to rebuild the human race when the infected are finally wiped out.
Vicki turned the corner with my sweet golden retriever, Daisy, in tow. She walked up timidly and offered me a gentle hug around the waist, whispering, “Please be careful out there, Autumn.”
Her glossy brown hair cascaded down her delicate frame in ringlets. She always begged my mom to roll her hair in curlers before she tucked in every night. Says it brings back memories of her mom when they would play dress up and make themselves over. Poor girl lost both of her parents to the virus. They nearly got to her, but she slipped away in the nick of time. We found her when my ex-fiancé, Luke, was roaming the streets scavenging for his next feast. He chased her into an alleyway beside our hardware store and Leland ran to her rescue. She had been out on her own for days before we happened across her. It took a while, but she was learning to trust us and open up about her past. She sought after my mom more than anyone. Mom remained patient with her and coaxed Vicki to talk about her feelings when she would grow troubled about missing her family. We tried our best to make the kids comfortable and cared for them like our family.
“I will, sweetheart. I’m always careful. Do you want me to search for anything special while we’re out there?” I asked her, running my hand along her rich curls.
“I would love to have a bag of Cheetos,” she responded, giggling with rosy cheeks, like she was embarrassed to tell me. “I haven’t had them for so long…”
I laughed with her, “Of course, Cheetos are one of my favorites, too. I’ll see if I can scrounge up a bag or two for you, and some muscle milk for Mr. Benji.”
“That would be awesome, thank you, Autumn!” Vicki beamed, squeezing me again, then she ran off with Benji to keep him entertained while the grown-ups did grown-up stuff.
My Daisy trotted over and rolled those big golden eyes up at me as if to say, “Where’s my hug, Mom?” I squatted down, ruffling her ears, and kissed her cold wet nose. She seemed content with that and let her tongue flop out through the side of her muzzle in her trademark goofy lopsided smile. I couldn’t ask for a better companion than my golden retriever. We are a team, and she would continue to be one of the most important “people” in my life. Daisy wasn’t like other pets I had owned in the past. She is so intelligent. Completely in-tune with people’s emotions around her. She sensed when something was wrong before anyone would realize it. She and I acted like two peas in a pod. Before Leland came along, I convinced myself it would only be the two of us out on the open road. But she instantly approved of him, so I trusted her judgement. She received her fill of cuddles then trotted back through the warehouse in search of the giggling kiddos, tail wagging cheerfully. I created a mental note to look for her a doggy bone while we were out scavenging.
“Well, I believe that covers everyone, am I right?” I asked to no one in particular.
Mom wrapped a fuzzy scarf around my neck and handed me some gloves. She had done the same with Jess while I hugged the youngsters. “I’ll see you when you get back. Love you,” she said and kissed my cheek.
“Love you too, Mom,” I replied, slipping the gloves on my hands. “All right, let’s head out guys.”
We pulled up our bootstraps and trooped outside to the unknown. The evening sun blazed a vivid orange in windows of the surrounding stores. Rays reflected tiny diamonds in the snow beneath our feet. Temperatures had dropped fast. Icy wind blustered against my face, stinging my cheeks and nose. I was grateful that instant for the extra warmth of the scarf and gloves. The outdoors seemed eerily silent, aside from the crunching sound of our footsteps in the frozen slush. The guys cleared the snow from the car doors and windows, and we all loaded into Leland’s black Toyota. He let the car idle while it warmed up, then pulled away from the curb of the hardware store. The parking lot and roads displayed rotting corpses strewn here and there. Not too long ago, they were wandering around as animated flesh eaters, but now they lay still with their final demise.
Leland merged through carefully and turned onto the main street in town. While I was showering, they mapped out the easiest route, beginning with the local grocery store three blocks down. It was clever to start at the spo
t with the most potential for a substantial amount of edible food. I hoped the place wasn’t wiped clean from other scavengers. As we rode down the littered but deserted avenue, a few vultures foraged nearby from the fallen bodies for a putrid meaty snack.
I kept my eyes peeled for any additional movement. The biters heard quite well and would soon be drawn to us. The road on both sides didn’t show a soul in sight which seemed peculiar. At least five to ten biters, at the absolute least, were always wandering within a block of our store. Attracted to the aromas and sounds of us inside, I would assume, no matter how cautious we proved to be.
We arrived at the supermarket without complications. Leland pulled his car beside the main entrance, parking halfway on the sidewalk. He scanned the area and appeared to be as dumbfounded as me when he noticed zero biters lurking. He glanced at me in question. I shrugged without a clue. Maybe luck would be on our team this time, or perhaps we were marching into a trap. Whatever it may be, an uneasiness crept up my spine. I reached for my pistol and held it tight. The weight in my hand reassured me. Never in a million years would I have predicted I could develop comfort from a weapon in my grasp. Like a tattered teddy bear with broken threads and milk stains is to a child, my gun was to me. My saving grace.
Leland led the way into the store while I brought up the rear. The doors stood unlocked and swung open with a muffled whoosh when he pushed on them. The draft made the snow at our feet swirl around like miniature ice cyclones. Inside the market was both dark and desolate. The registers were shrouded in a thin layer of dust. The cash tills hung open to expose the remnants of only a few coins, all the bills taken by previous scavengers. It seemed useless since the world no longer depended on money to survive. Only food, water, weapons, fuel and supplies held value these days.
We scattered through the dismantled aisles, our flashlights the only thing illuminating our paths. Each of us lugged a duffel bag or backpack and grabbed items from the shelves to stuff them full. Little remained of canned goods, but a few boxed items were left behind that would last for a while. I looked for some milk products that didn’t require refrigeration for Benji. One battered box of children’s Pediasure rested alone on a rack with three good bottles and one busted open. Pink strawberry flavored liquid had spilled down the shelving unit to gather in a puddle of sticky goo on the floor. It didn’t expire for another three months, so I loaded the sealed bottles in my backpack and moved on.
Category signs hung from the ceiling to inform us of the items in each specific aisle. I shined my light on them to search for paper goods or toothpaste. The stench of rancid meat overwhelmed me. Bile threatened to crawl up my esophagus, and brought forth an involuntary gag. I turned to find the meat department behind me. Convinced that if I looked hard enough I could see the stink rising from the stacked plastic packages. Apparently, nobody wanted to stock up on meat when the epidemic struck. Even with the winter chill seeping inside the supermarket, it still wasn’t enough to keep perishable items from expiring. My nose curled as I walked past the odor to continue my search.
While rummaging through an endcap of crackers, a thick dripping noise arose from the next aisle over. Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to check it out. As I turned the corner with care, I discovered a grotesque exhibit of a morbidly obese woman confined in her electric scooter. A dark puddle surrounded the chair. Her back faced me as I illuminated the immense body to check for any movement. Nothing. I scooted closer while keeping my body flush with the shelving on the opposite side of her, out of arm's reach. My flashlight pinned on her as I went around to face her front side. Instantly, I recognized the face.
Mrs. Womack, secretary and treasurer of the town’s Catholic church, Our Lady of Peace. My family raised me in that church. Mrs. Womack watched me grow from an infant to a young woman every week of my life. She baked the most delicious cookies and handed them out to everyone she came in contact with. She had always been overweight, but since her husband died, she quickly expanded from her addiction to food that seemed to have numbed her grieving process. She was a sweet lady. A pang of sorrow struck me to see her like this.
Mrs. Womack, now glued to her scooter, sat covered in congealing blood that must have gushed from the open wound on her flabby chest. It looked like someone gathered her enormous left breast in a vice grip, then twisted and ripped it off. Shredded flesh hung through the fabric of her floral print moo-moo she wore. A strange gooey fluid rolled down the front of her dress and began dripping sluggishly to the growing puddle at her swollen feet. This must be what I heard from the next aisle. The stench coming from the remains of Mrs. Womack reeked of even more atrocious things than the rotten meat I had just encountered. A mixture of feces, urine and the pungent, nose curling odor of death. The scabby purple boils that covered her arms and legs oozed a strange yellow liquid. The sight made the contents of my stomach churn, let alone the foul smell. Her head leaned to one side, against the shelves beside her. Short black hair, still in curlers, was stuffed into a shower cap. Poor woman must have rushed out of the house in haste to gather food before the market ran out. Only to be ravaged by zombies, stuck in her moo-moo, curlers and shower cap for all eternity.
I shined the light on her face while approaching the scooter with complete caution. I needed to be sure she truly died her final death. Mrs. Womack would have wanted me to make sure she wasn’t one of the monsters out here killing the innocent. Although my gut told me I was being foolish, my heart still told me to check. I stepped up to the edge of the growing puddle on the surrounding floor, when her eyes flew open. She grabbed for me with her fat sausage-like fingers. I squealed and jumped back, but not fast enough. She wrapped her chubby hand in my scarf and yanked me closer, tightening it around my neck. With a split second to be surprised at her strength, she knocked me off balance. I fell forward, slipping in the blood gathered around my feet, and landed hard on my knees beside her. My boots squeaked on the tile floors as I struggled to regain my balance but I couldn’t break free from her impressive grip. The scarf cinched around my throat and I called out for help while I still possessed the oxygen. I swung my gun around to get a clear shot at her head, but as I pulled the trigger the shots went wide and ricocheted off the metal shelving surrounding us. She tried to wrench me closer to her mouth, but to my relief, her immense belly wouldn’t allow her to bend over me. I managed to maneuver enough to jam the barrel of my pistol in her frothing mouth and squeeze the trigger. The gun clicked empty.
“Shit! Somebody please help me!” I shouted as Alastor turned the corner. Without speaking a word, he pulled the revolver Leland loaned him and put two rounds through Mrs. Womack’s brain.
I cringed as gelatinous bits of her connected with my face, and hands as I threw them up in a failed effort to block the revolting brain matter. Her diseased hand released my scarf and dropped down the side of her scooter. I scrambled backward out of reach, just in case. Her head collapsed forward from the force of the bullets entering her head from behind. I stopped shrieking as my back bumped the shelving and frantically wiped at myself to get rid of the meaty pieces from Mrs. Womack’s skull.
Alastor squatted down beside me and asked in his perfectly composed voice, “Are you all right, Autumn? She did not bite you, did she?”
I didn’t answer him at first. My nerves were fried and brain unable to process a coherent thought. I came too close to getting bit and losing my fight against the undead. It scared the shit out of me. My foolishness almost got me killed. I felt like a complete moron and was more than embarrassed that the “new guy” swooped in to save me from my reckless decisions. Especially since I just criticized him on pretty much the exact same thing.
I peeked up at his captivating face and answered, “No, I’m okay, Alastor. Thank you for…”
Leland came hauling ass around the corner from the left side, seconds later Jess slid in from the right, boots squeaking in their rush to reach me. Better late than never, I suppose.
“Oh my God, Autumn, w
hat happened? Are you guys okay? I was back in the stockroom when I heard the gunshots,” Leland said in a panic.
“Yeah, sorry. I was checking out the pharmacy for meds we can use,” Jess admitted with an apologetic expression.
“I’m fine. I had a close call with old Mrs. Womack. She wanted to turn me into a late night snack, but Alastor came to the rescue in the nick of time,” I explained to them, glancing at Alastor with gratefulness.
He gazed at me with those golden tiger eyes. Even though I was grateful he showed up when he did, the weight of his gaze made me fidgety. I thanked him again and climbed to my feet. He placed his big hand on my arm to help me stand and I involuntarily jerked away from his touch. Immediate regret flooded me when I saw the cringe of rejection in his eyes as he dropped his hand from me.
“Uh, I’m sorry, Alastor. Just a little jumpy. I didn’t mean…” I faltered, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t seem like pity or a sore excuse.
“It is all right. I only thought you might need a steady hand to keep you upright. I apologize,” he whispered, in his ridiculously polite tone of voice. He had been nothing but polite since he joined us, plus he just saved my life. And what do I do? That’s right, I act like an ungrateful wench when all he wishes is to help. Lost on what to add that would make the situation less awkward, I gathered myself and began scanning the racks again for useful items. In my embarrassment, I decided if I ignored the circumstances, they would go away.
Jess whispered behind me as I carefully studied the items on the shelf, avoiding all eye contact with anyone. I thought I heard her say, “Don’t take it personally, she has trouble warming up to strangers, she’ll come around.” But wasn’t one hundred percent sure because I zoomed in on something that was on my “grocery list”. My mom’s floss.
“Ah ha!” I exclaimed, holding up the floss as if it were a gold bar. I saw in my peripheral vision Leland sauntering over to me. He grabbed a package of paper towels across the aisle and ripped them from their plastic wrapping, then wiped at my face and jacket sleeves. I guess I hadn’t removed all the gory morsels from myself.
Autumn's Calling (Book 2): The Battle Page 4
