Amongst the Dead

by David Bernstein

  “Guess she wants company,” the man said.

  Riley wondered who the man was speaking to and how many hostiles were present. Taking two quick, reaffirming breaths, she jumped in front of the staircase, aimed upward and fired two shots. The man at the top was a silhouette, but she heard him grunt and stumble backward. There was no way she’d missed at that range. He collapsed to the floor like a sack of grain. She dove back into the gloom, Joanne’s voice echoing in her ears.

  “Run, Riley, run!” the woman shouted. Riley heard a loud slap and then Joanne’s voice was no more.

  She bit down, nostrils flaring like a charging bull’s. Using the flashlight, she ran over to the rear basement door. Without thinking, she flung it open. Two men, both scraggly and smelling foul, stood before her. The one closest to her had crazed eyes and a messy, uneven beard with pieces of food in it. He grinned, revealing an almost toothless smile. His eyes bore into Riley the same way the men in the cabin had. The second man stood just behind the first. He was a foot taller and wore dark sunglasses. His head was shaved and he had tattoos all over his arms. Both men had matching cut-off jean vests as if they belonged to the same organization.

  Crazy Eyes reached for her, seemingly naive that a small girl could pose such a threat. She stepped back, raised the rifle and shot the man in his bulging gut. He gripped at the entrance wound, gushing blood, and fell forward—his face bewildered, eyes wide and mouth agape.

  The tall man charged, stepping on the downed man’s back, and whipped out a machete. Bringing it high, he swung it forward, his face a contortion of rage. Riley ducked, the attack missing. With her weapon pointed upward, she fired, hitting the man in the shoulder. He howled in pain. She saw a large chunk of flesh was missing, but the arm with the machete was still untouched. The man readied another swing, but Riley shoved her weapon further upward, the barrel connecting under the man’s chin, and pulled the trigger. The arm holding the machete went limp as the man’s brains exploded from the top of his head.

  Immediately, she lay with her back up against the wall to the side of the door. She heard the man’s body collapse and then waited, listening for movement.

  Peering out of the doorway, she heard the creaking of wood from the porch above, followed by footsteps coming down the basement stairs. Riley stepped outside.

  Looking up, she saw the shadows of people, some motionless, others moving. The deck was made from two–by-four pieces of wood. Aiming at the shadow closest to her, she fired twice before moving to the next. Screams of pain filled her ears as the bullets bit into them like angry bees on steroids. “Inside,” one of the men said. The other shadows began moving toward the house, the sound like a small stampede. “That little bitch,” said another.

  Riley couldn’t help but grin. She was different now—a hunter looking for prey. They’d underestimated her. With her back hugging the wall of the house, she popped out the rifle’s clip. Feeling the weight, she guessed she had about ten shots left, plus the remaining five in the Glock. Reaching into her pocket, she began loading the weapon’s clip with additional bullets. She’d gotten ten more rounds in and decided that was enough. The clip held thirty, but she didn’t want to get caught with an unloaded gun if someone came from the basement or around the corner.

  The air was still, free from wind or insect noise or bird chatter. The gunshots and death screams had silenced all. Riley was a machine, a killing phantasm of death. The people who were stalking her, and who may or may not have hurt Joanne and Eric, had to pay. Had to die. This new, death-infested zombie world was filled with scum, the lowest form of society. Was the world this way before the zombies? Her father had spoken of better times—peace and prosperity. How could people, just because there was no formal law, allow their society to crumble so easily? Were only the evil ones left? The good far and few in number? Everyone was now the enemy and the enemy had to die. Riley needed to make room for more of the virtuous and that meant lessening the wickedness.

  She heard footsteps coming from the basement. The fools were noisy, careless. Her position wasn’t great. She was out in the open with nothing to hide behind. She continued along the wall, quick and steady. Her pulse was relaxed, her breathing coming in controlled breaths.

  Reaching the house’s corner, she glanced around the edge. The area was clear. Just as she made it around to the side, she heard the men exit from the basement doorway. “She’s not here,” one whispered to the other. They were pathetic.

  She was even more of a target now, with no deck above her. Anyone coming around the front or back or peeking over the railing of the deck would have a clear shot. But she needed to keep moving, needed to take chances to improve her position.

  The tree line stood a good twenty feet away from the side of the house. She ran toward the front of the house and looked around the corner. Motorcycles, ten in total, were parked in the driveway. Riley wondered if maybe Renny had been telling the truth about a gang. Were these the same people that had chased him? Or was he a member? She needed Renny to be a member. She called upon the hate inside her, needing someone to blame.

  Without hesitation, she sprinted toward the woods. Her heart sped up and it seemed for a moment that she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Fear, for the first time entered her mind. She hadn’t liked it, hadn’t wanted it, but it came nonetheless as she waited for the inevitable pain of a bullet to strike her down.

  She made it to the forest unscathed, kneeling down behind a tree. Not as much cover as the bushes, but the thick trunk proved much better armor than twigs and leaves. Looking toward the house, she saw the men come around the corner—guns at the ready—like kids jumping out to scare their friends.

  “Where’d she go?” one man said. The other man glanced around nervously.

  An obese man with a patch over his right eye appeared on the deck, holding a handgun. Riley wouldn’t have to worry too much about him—handguns were not very accurate for long range shooting. “Find her,” he commanded. “She couldn’t have gotten far.”

  Now was her chance to lessen the odds. She had three men in range. Aiming at one of the men on the ground, she fired. The man’s head exploded as if a cherry bomb had been inside it, leaving a watermelon-like splatter against the house’s siding. As his limp body began to fall, Riley had already sighted the guy next to him. His head exploded in similar fashion.

  The man on the deck began firing in her direction, missing by a large margin. Another man joined him, but he had a rifle. Instead of resting his arm on the railing to get a better bead on his target, he began firing from a standing position. The shots went wide.

  Focus had been on the man with the handgun, but she moved her sights to the guy with the rifle and blasted a hole in his neck. He fell away, hands around his throat, blood seeping through his fingers like melted ice cream.

  Riley saw the man with the eye patch turn to run away. She fired prematurely, greedy to get off a shot, but missed. The railing took the bullet, splintering into slivers.

  She needed to move her position and took off running through the forest, working her way over downed logs and around trees with ease, as if the forest was her home. The best location for more carnage would be to position herself in the woods behind the house. She would have a clear view of the deck and any unfortunate soul who was on it.

  She crept forward, moving carefully, avoiding twigs and other noise-producing objects as best as possible. Soon she found herself behind a thick maple just within the tree line. As she predicted, she had a wonderful view of the back deck and the surrounding yard. Focusing on the people on the deck, her shoulders slumped.

  “Okay, little girl,” the obese man on the deck said. He had the same denim vest as the others, but he was twice the size of the other men. His head was shaved and he wore a goatee that came to his chest. He was holding Joanne in front of him, a gun to her head. “You’ve impressed me. But now it’s time to give up.” Two men stood to either side of him like sentries. They scanned the forest,
but by the looks of them, they had no idea where she was. “Surrender or your mother dies.”

  Of course Joanne wasn’t her mother, but Riley had come to think of her as one. Joanne had been kind, taking her in. Clothed and fed her. Surrendering was something Joanne wouldn’t want her to do. She would tell her to run. But there was more than just Joanne to worry about. What about Eric? He was only a child. This was the trouble with having loved ones in her life in this hateful, forsaken world. They could be used against her. Make her weak. She could easily take Joanne out, ending the situation completely. They’d probably rape and kill her anyway and Riley would be doing her a favor. But deep down, she knew she wouldn’t be able to.

  Riley had finally found a home, a place were she belonged and was loved. These brutal bastards had ruined everything. Why would someone want to destroy something so precious and hard to find in this ugly world? Where did the need to hurt and kill others come from?

  She began to wonder if the zombies were the more advanced race. They never attacked each other. Were they the evolution of the human race? The need to kill each other removed? If everyone was a zombie, there’d be no more fighting or worrying or death. Just mindless wandering. Zombies never fought against each other, never backstabbed or argued. Maybe they were nature’s way of cleaning up the human mess. The idea was almost funny. Either way, the men holding Joanne and Eric had to die.

  Riley raised her rifle, aimed at the man standing to the right of Joanne and fired. The crack of the rifle was loud in the silence, echoing off the back of the house like a crack of thunder. The man’s head jerked back from the bullet’s impact, sending his body into the sliding glass door and shattering it into tiny fragments.

  The sentry on the other side of Joanne crouched low, looking around frantically and clearly not knowing where the shot came from.

  The large man holding Joanne backed inside the house through the shattered doorway, obscuring himself in shadow, but leaving Joanne’s form visible. “You think you can take me on and win?” the large man yelled. “Remember, bitch, this is on you.”

  Riley watched as a knife appeared in the man’s hand. He placed the tip against Joanne’s skull just above her temple and dragged the blade down. Joanne screamed in pain as blood covered the woman’s face. Riley grimaced, clenching her jaw to keep from crying out. She took aim down the barrel of her gun, trying to get a bead on the bastard but he was hidden in gloom.

  Moving her gaze to the sentry on the left, she fired, dropping the man instantly like a piece of dead weight. Joanne screamed again as the man sunk the knife into her thigh. “I can spend all day carving this bitch up,” the big man hollered. Riley fired a couple of close warning shots just above the man’s shadowed form. She heard him yell before disappearing into the house. A second later Eric appeared in the doorway, a knife to his throat. “The kid dies if you don’t come forward now.”

  She couldn’t watch Eric die. Who knew what they might do, but she couldn’t have that on her conscience. He was only a child, had a whole future ahead of him. He was one of the good guys and the world needed more of those. Resigned to her fate, Riley raised the rifle above her head and walked forward, out of the forest and into the backyard.

  “Toss the gun away, bitch,” the large man’s voice demanded. She did as told. Four men, including the large one, came bustling out of the house. They all descended the stairs leading from the deck to the yard, guns trained on Riley. They weren’t underestimating her anymore. Eric was being dragged by one of the others now.

  When they finally reached her, the big man grinned as he approached. Unlike the other men, he had a full set of teeth, yellowed like corn, but still present. “All this death caused by a little child. Amazing.” He seemed genuinely impressed. Riley, hands behind her back, gripped the Glock. The group of men separated, two walking apart to get around her while the big man and another stood in front of her. The big man reached back to slap her, but she ducked, withdrew the Glock and blew a hole in the man’s groin. Pivoting the weapon, she fired at the man holding Eric and put two holes in his chest before something hard cracked her upside the head. She fell, as if in slow motion, and the world around her fell away too.

  She awoke on the living room couch. Her arms were tied behind her back. Eric was bound and gagged next to her. Looking up, she saw what she needed to see, the fuel that would help her to survive—the face of the man that ruined everything—Renny.

  “Thanks for that,” he said to Riley. “I hated Tiny, the big guy whose pecker you blew off.” He let out a chuckle. “He was always breaking my balls and you just upped me in the chain of command. Would have killed him myself, but that’s frowned upon these days with numbers so hard to replace.”

  Riley hardly heard the words that were spoken to her. A rage, like the darkest, nastiest hate, was building inside her. She seethed, trying her best to keep from showing it, but her eyes couldn’t lie.

  “That’s it, girl. I can see it in your eyes. You’re a little firecracker, a demon of death.” He paced back and forth in front of her like a drill sergeant. “You’re just pissed because I fooled you. All of you. I fed you line after line of bullshit and you ate it up like it was pie.” The man was patting himself on the back, showing off in front of the others. If only Riley had followed him to his car with George and killed him.

  “Where’s my mother?” Riley asked.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Renny said, glancing at the other men. “She’ll be fine. If I was you, I’d worry about yourself.” Riley knew there was no point in talking further. She would need to save her strength. A time would come when escape would present itself and she needed to be as well rested as possible. “We’ll be leaving soon. Going to take you to the compound and introduce you to the Hag.” He started laughing and the others joined in.

  She didn’t like the sound or the feeling she got from the laughter. And what the hell was the Hag? She kept quiet and turned to look at Eric. The hardness inside her crumbled like a cookie. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and his face was scarlet. She moved closer to him in an attempt to console and comfort him. It was all she could do for now.

  Chapter Nine

  Sisters of Life

  Riley and Eric were placed on the back of motorcycles and driven to the gang’s compound in the city of Poughkeepsie. Joanne was still nowhere to be seen when they left the house and Riley could only hope that she was still alive. To her surprise, neither she nor Eric were blindfolded during the ride, allowing her to pay careful attention to the surroundings and a way home.

  Once inside the city, the streets the gang traveled through were secure, walled in by stacks of old cars and fencing. The wall was clearly makeshift, but it seemed solid and impenetrable for the purpose it served—to keep out the undead. Barbed wire lined the top of the walls, giving the long corridor-like streets a prison feel.

  A little ways into the city, the bikers pulled into a parking garage. Eric was taken into the accompanying building, leaving Riley with Renny and some others. She’d wanted to lunge for Eric, grab him and stop them from taking him, but she knew it was pointless and would only lead to pain. She had to keep quiet, reveal nothing of her intentions to the enemy, but deep inside her soul she knew she’d find and rescue him. Her exterior may have shown nothing, like a blank painter’s canvas, but inside Riley was wracked with anxiety and finding it difficult to remain stoic. She’d done so for Eric, but now that she was alone she did it for herself, not wanting to give the bastards any satisfaction. But the thought of never seeing Eric again almost caused her to cry out and run after him. To keep harping on such terrible thoughts would only lead to her downfall.

  After her binds were removed, she was led across the parking garage to a dented and dusty black limousine. Renny was inside, Riley having seen the bastard enter the stretched vehicle.

  The car’s interior was black as night. “Don’t be afraid little one,” a deep voice said. “Come easily or hard, your choice.” Taking a reassuring bre
ath, she stepped forward and entered the limo.

  Inside, the air smelled of old cigar smoke. The ceiling cloth was torn in places and the leather seats were inundated with cracks. A burly man, with a neatly trimmed beard and tattoos covering his bald head, sat across from Riley. Renny sat beside the large man, clearly his subordinate. “What happened to Tiny?” the man asked.

  “Little Miss Killer here blew his dick off,” Renny answered. The man stared at Riley, his eyes penetrating like steel daggers. A chill fell over her. She’d seen eyes like his before. They were the eyes of a maniac. The man was the unpredictable type, a loose cannon. A man that seemed calm on the outside, but at any minute could erupt like a volcano. She readied herself for a blow, but none came. He simply smiled and said loudly to the driver, “Let’s go.” This large man was clearly the leader of this rag-tag group of scum.

  They drove out of the garage and continued down the street Riley had come in on. She could see small gaps in the crude wall, places where the undead were standing and reaching through to grab a morsel of flesh. She hadn’t expected it and her face must’ve showed a sign of surprise because the big man spoke.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “They can’t get through, but in case their numbers grow too large we like to have places to shoot through and thin the herd, lessening their numbers. But like cockroaches and mice, they come back with what seems to be twice the number.”

  Finally, after a short ride, the limo came to a halt. Riley glanced out of the window. The street dead-ended in front of a large apartment building.