by David Achord
Boy was I wrong. Julie took one look into the bag, called me a sexist after contemptuously rolling her eyes and walked back inside without a backward glance.
I was at a loss. I had no idea how to proceed, and the not knowing pissed me off. I sat in my truck, not quite ready to drive away, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk into the house and convince her to talk to me. While I was sitting there fuming, Terry appeared out of the barn and walked up.
“What’s going on, bro?” he asked. “You moving back home?”
I gripped the steering wheel in frustration and shook my head. “Ride with me,” I finally said. Terry eyed me, but got in without asking why. I drove the short distance to the barn.
“Hang on,” I said, “I’m going to grab some stuff.”
Terry followed me in the barn and watched in silence as I stuffed a knapsack full of ammo and MREs. When I put the ghillie suit on, he couldn’t stand it any longer.
“What the hell are you about to get into?” he finally asked.
“I’ve got to get away from here for a few days. Drive me down to Mack Hatcher Parkway and drop me off. I’m going to do some hunting.”
Terry stared at me a few seconds. “You’re crazy, dude.”
Much to his credit, he didn’t try to argue with me. He got in the driver’s seat and started the truck. I had him drop me off at the location where we first trapped Big Bastard and told him to come looking for me if I wasn’t back in a week.
I spent the first day in a sniper position with a wide kill zone of the entire intersection, lying in an uncomfortable prone position, waiting for my nemesis to make an appearance. He was a no-show. Even so, I still had a productive day.
They would appear randomly. Sometimes they would be alone, sometimes in small groups between two and ten. I’d pick them off with single shots to the head at three hundred yards. I had no idea where they thought they were going. They were of various ages, genders, racial makeup, but oddly, there were no children among them.
I didn’t want to blow my cover, so I didn’t take the time to inspect them or set them on fire. Instead, I’d kill a couple, low crawl to a fresh spot, and then wait for the next group to appear.
As I lay there, all I could think about was Julie. Her words really hurt. Maybe it was merely a phase our relationship was going through, I had no idea. The only thing I knew for certain was I felt as though she had betrayed me, and that feeling was very painful.
The warm morning sun did a number on me and I dozed off at one point. It was only for about ten minutes, I think, but when I came to, I saw something which made my skin crawl.
There were about a dozen of them, and they were low crawling through the tall grass, maneuvering their way toward the sniper position I had previously occupied. One of them crawled by within a few feet of me. The only thing that saved me was the camouflage my ghillie suit afforded.
I sat motionlessly, controlling my breathing until the thing had crawled past, and watched as they slowly but steadily crawled along. They converged on my previous spot about ten minutes later, about fifty yards from where I was currently lying. When they reached the spot, one of them struggled to his feet and looked around. I peered at him through my scope. The long crawl had torn the front of his shirt open, exposing his torso, which was also scraped and torn. Black ooze seeped out, but he was oblivious to any pain. He made some type of guttural grunting noise and a couple of them managed to get to their feet.
It shocked me. The bastards were now able to communicate with each other! It was at a primal level, sure, but a year ago these things were completely mindless. It partially explained how they could set up an ambush. When I got back home, I was going to carefully review my notes and maybe even talk it over with the psychologists.
They stood there looking around, ignoring their comrades who were not able to get to their feet. I aimed between the eyes of the apparent leader and took him out first. The others looked at him when he fell to the ground. Now they were without direction and stood there like morons. I made quick work of all of them.
On day two, I spent the entire day slinking about and started working my way toward I-65. The only action I had were two lone zombies hung up in a fence. I dispatched them with my machete.
I saw no other zombies that day, which made me smugly think it reflected the good work we’d been doing of eradicating them, but there was also a little tickling in the back of my mind telling me it was a sign of something more ominous. I pondered this feeling the rest of the day, but no answers came to me.
I slept that night on the top of an abandoned tractor trailer. On the third morning, I awoke to a squirrel less than a foot away from me, noisily eating on an acorn. My ghillie suit was covered in dirt and enhanced the camouflaged effect. When I sat up, I must have looked like an apparition. The little rodent emitted a loud shriek as it scurried off the trailer.
As I enjoyed some beef jerky for breakfast, I finally admitted to myself how foolish I was acting. I was doing this more for the escape from everyone and finding Big Bastard was only an excuse. I was unnecessarily putting my life at risk. There were at least one or two people who still cared about me. Besides, there was work to do back at the farm. It was time to get my act together and go home.
Unfortunately, it was going to be Fred’s home I was going back to, and it was about seven miles away. I worked my way down to the Interstate and started the long walk back. I’d not explored I-65 in a while and wanted to see if anything had changed.
The Interstate was silent, its lanes filled with immobile vehicles. In spite of my head injury a couple of years ago, my memory was still sharp. I remembered every car and truck. Nothing had changed with only one exception. There was an SUV on the side of the road about a mile from the Concord Road exit that had been burned down to the frame. I thought it was odd. Nobody had mentioned it. I looked it over for maybe a minute and continued on my way.
The condition of the roadway was slowly but steadily deteriorating and I idly wondered how long it was going to take before the roads would be in total ruin. Abandoned cars were grimy and tires were going flat. Every once in a while I happened across skeletal remains and could only speculate about how they ended up here.
When I got close to Concord Road, I saw a portion of the fence alongside the Interstate knocked down. On a whim, I decided to take the cut through and work my way to the back of the school. I don’t really know why, but I wanted to watch them for a while, see what they were up to.
I climbed the embankment, crossed over Lipscomb Road, and headed toward the school, which was about a hundred yards away. I only walked a short distance when I came across a fresh path in the woods. One direction of it led to the school, but I had no idea where the opposite direction led. All I could readily discern were the fresh footprints. Somebody had definitely used it since the last rainstorm.
Curious, I followed it. It emerged from the woods to the back yard of an older house. Small and worn out looking, it had a small detached shed in back. It reminded me of the home my grandmother raised me in. The lone window to the shed had been boarded up, which seemed odd. I was standing there wondering why someone from the school cared enough about this house to visit it, when the door to the shed suddenly opened. I ducked back and crouched down among the trees and bushes.
I watched as Anthony emerged, looked around, and then shut the door, padlocking it behind him. He then began walking toward the path. Something told me not to jump up and say hello. Instead, I remained ghostly still as he walked by. The ghillie suit once again proved effective. He didn’t notice me and walked casually, disappearing down the trail a moment later. I even heard him chuckling to himself.
I waited five minutes and then went to the shed. He was hiding something, and I wanted to see what was inside. Whatever it was, it must have been good to have him in such a mood.
I took the head cover of my suit off and studied the padlock. Since I had none of my lock picking tools with me, I looked around until I found
a big rock and smashed the hasp off the old wood. As a precaution, I led with my rifle as I slowly opened the door. As the sunlight illuminated the dark confines, I gasped.
There, cowering in the corner, naked, dirty and emaciated, was a live human. I almost didn’t recognize her.
“Oh, my God,” I uttered, “Jessica?”
Chapter 32 – Jessica
When Jessica saw me, she began whimpering and trembling uncontrollably. I quickly realized I looked pretty much the same way when I scared the squirrel.
“Jessica, it’s me, Zach!” I said a bit louder than I intended. It didn’t seem to help so I yanked the headgear off, struggled out of the top of the camouflage suit and dropped it on the concrete floor.
“Look,” I gestured at it, “this is called a ghillie suit. I’m wearing it because I’ve been hunting zombies. I’m not here to hurt you.”
It took a minute, but recognition finally dawned in her eyes. “Zach?” she asked weakly.
“Yeah, it’s me, Zach,” I replied, “you’re safe now.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged.
I looked her over carefully. She looked like death warmed over. She was dirty, scrapes and bruises were all over her, and her once beautiful blonde hair was matted to her head with a combination of dirt and dried blood. Both eyes were blackened and swollen, and her face looked like Andie’s when the Captain had beaten her so badly. There wasn’t much in the shed; a dirty mattress along with a tattered blanket, a plastic pail overflowing with excrement, and one of those double bowls people had for their pets. It was disgusting and I found myself becoming deadly angry as I realized what Anthony had done. I took a slow, deep breath.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to take you home.”
She shook her head vigorously. “No, I can’t leave! He’ll find me.”
“Jessica,” I said as I took another step forward, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay? I’m going to get you away from here, and nobody is going to stop us. If they try, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you again.”
She looked at me as if there was no way I could keep my promise. It was then I noticed a crudely fashioned steel collar around her neck and a chain attached to it. The chain led to a bolt that was anchored in the concrete floor.
“Jessica, can I come closer to you? I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Her eyes were frightened and vacant, causing me to wonder how much of her mental acuity was left. I held my hands up in a placating gesture.
“I won’t hurt you, I swear. I only want to get that chain off you.”
“Can you do that?” she timidly asked.
“Yes, just trust me, okay? You know me, right? I would never hurt you.”
She stared at me and I thought she might start screaming at any moment. Finally, she nodded. I stepped closer and got a good look at the source of her restraint. It looked like a piece of one inch wide steel, about an eighth of an inch thick, and it had been shaped into a tight circle around her neck. It was bolted to the chain and the bolt had been deformed by a hammer or something, preventing it from being unscrewed. Her neck was a combination of scabs and fresh, bloody furls in the skin from the constant abrading of the collar. It would be difficult to bust it loose without injuring her further. I looked down to where it was anchored to the floor. It was a simple eyebolt embedded in the concrete.
“Alright, sweetheart, I believe I can bust this eyebolt open, but I need to look around for some tools to use.”
Jessica’s lower lip started quivering. “You’re going to leave me?”
I shook my head vigorously. “Absolutely not, I’m only going to look around for some tools and then I promise I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t seem convinced and it looked like she was on the verge of passing out.
“Hey,” I said, “I bet you’re hungry.” I took my knapsack off and fished out some jerky. Tearing it into small pieces, I handed it to her.
“Here,” I said, thrusting it into her hand, “it’s a little tough and salty, but it’ll fill your stomach. Chew on it slowly.”
As an afterthought, I pulled my machete out. Jessica inhaled sharply and I held up a hand.
“No, no. Here,” I said, flipped the handle around and handed it to her. “You can keep this for protection.”
She looked at me as if I were trying to trick her and refused to touch it. I reached out and grasped her arm, forcefully put it in her hand and gently closed her fingers around it. I then carefully put my hand on her chin and forced her to look at me.
“If anyone comes through that door besides me, you have my permission to bury this machete in their skull, okay?” I released her chin and waited for a response. She worriedly nodded. I gave her a reassuring smile.
“I’ll be right back. We’ll get you free and get out of here. Just hang on, okay?” She nodded again, grabbed my hand, and squeezed it. I gave her another smile and walked out.
I peered out of the door for any threats before exiting and hurriedly walked to the nearby house. The back door had already been kicked in, presumably by Anthony. I led with my AR-15 as I quickly cleared the house. Finding no threat, I began searching for anything I could use. The house had been thoroughly ransacked and there was not much left. I only found two things I could use, a well-worn screwdriver and an old dusty dress that had been stuffed under a bed for some unknown reason.
I hurried back to the shed and grabbed the rock I used earlier.
“Jess, it’s me, I’m coming in,” I took a careful step inside. Jessica was still in the corner, but this time she held the machete defensively.
“Hey,” I said. She eyed me warily, and I realized the big rock I was holding was probably unnerving her. I motioned with it. “Okay, here’s the deal,” I pointed at the eyebolt as I walked closer. “If you’ll notice, the eye in the eyebolt is not solid. There is a little bitty gap. I’m going to try to wedge it open with this screwdriver and rock. It’s going to be noisy, but I don’t want you to be afraid, okay?”
Jessica nodded, but I was worried about the way she was holding the machete. I tried a lighthearted chuckle. “Don’t hit me with that thing. Remember, I’m the one who gave it to you.”
It took about fifteen minutes. My fingers hurt and I was drenched in sweat, but I finally worked the eyebolt open enough where I could slip the chain link out.
“Success,” I said with a grin. Jessica looked at me blankly.
“Can’t you get this off me?” she asked, tugging at the steel collar. I shook my head.
“I don’t have the proper tools here, but when I get you back home, Fred and I will be able to get it off in seconds,” I handed her the dress. “Here, put this on. It was the only thing I could find.”
She fumbled with the dress and seemed to have difficulty putting it on, so I reached for her wrists and raised her arms. She complied without protest, and with a little bit of clumsiness, I managed to slide the dress down on her and gently pulled the rusty chain through the neck opening. I turned her around to zip her up and it was then I noticed numerous welts on her back. I instinctively touched one. Jessica flinched and let out an involuntary gasp.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I then leaned close. “I’m going to make him regret doing this,” I whispered. She responded with an involuntary sob. “In the meantime, let’s get you home.”
She was too weak to walk. The weeks of subsisting off of an occasional morsel had left her looking like a holocaust survivor. I did not dare think about what else he had done to her.
The closest place was the school, but when I mentioned it, Jessica started panicking and almost went into convulsions. Since the fuel tanker accident, the Birmingham women had moved into the school, so the radio tower was empty. My house, the house I used to live in with my wife and kid, was a few miles away, as was Fred’s home. There was no way she was going to be able to walk that far. I thought for a moment.
“Okay, I have an id
ea,” I started. Jessica listened to me tentatively. “We’re going to walk to the school…” I couldn’t finish before Jessica started shaking her head.
“Now, listen a minute before you start disagreeing with me,” I said and waited for her to calm down. “In spite of Anthony, there are people there who I believe we can trust. I’ll either borrow a car or get one of them to give us a ride home. It’ll work, okay? Besides, if anyone does something shady, I’ll shoot them,” I said while holding up my rifle. She didn’t react, but she had calmed down somewhat, which was good enough. I tried leading her by the hand, but it was obvious she was too weak to walk for more than a few steps.
“Alright, there’s only one way to do this, I’ve got to carry you.”
“Please don’t take me to the school, he’ll…” she didn’t finish before she started whimpering again. I thought it over for a few minutes. Anthony would not dare try to hurt her in front of other people, especially me. He didn’t know it yet, but I had a bullet with his name on it, but, seeing him was going to traumatize her even more, and I couldn’t do that to her. I thought for a minute more and then patted her hand.
“Okay, I have a better plan,” I explained what I was going to do. She didn’t seem to understand all of it, but she nodded her head when I asked if it was okay. I got her back out of the dress, stripped out of the ghillie suit and put it on her. Her body was so tiny it hung on her loosely.
“Okay, are you ready?” I asked. The mask and headgear moved slightly, which I interpreted as her nodding her head. I hoisted her on my shoulders and carried her through the woods back down to the Interstate. It took me about ten minutes to get to the Concord Road exit. I found a spot in some thick bushes off the roadway, and set her down gently.
