by Mark Clodi
“Stewart?”
“Yeah Max?”
“You might be right about the earthquake thing.”
She laughed softly, “Max that was just an excuse for something I wanted. You.”
“So what now?”
“What do you mean 'what now'? Now we keep living, get ourselves set up somewhere and just keep going. We just do not stop.”
“This won't change anything?”
Stewart reached over and ran her hand down onto his groin, “Max, this changes everything. But it doesn't change our goals.”
The third time they made love it was a prolonged, slow session without the haste or roughness of the earlier times, however it was just as passionate. As they lay once again in each other arms Max suddenly started.
“Is something there?”
Max nodded, “Someone is out there. In the field. I didn't notice them until now.”
“Fuck.” Stewart rolled over and scrambled to pull on her clothing. Max joined her in the effort, pulling on the light shorts and shirt he had been wearing, but forgoing his shoes for his shotgun. Stewart didn't stop until she had all of her weapons back in place, which took another twenty seconds.
“Where is it?”
Max pointed out towards the road, about halfway between Tom's house and the next neighbor over. “There.”
“Too far for me, I can't see that far, not even with these eyes.”
“It isn't moving. I think there are two more of them back a little ways. Yeah I am sure of it.”
“What are they doing?”
“Just standing there. Should we go out?”
“No. How far away are they, a half mile?”
“Maybe. That seems about right, didn't Tom say he had neighbors a mile away on each side of his house?”
“Yeah, we better get them up. Then you and I can go out and investigate. I damn sure am not setting up another ambush in a house for them.”
“You go, get the others up, I will keep an eye on things here.”
Stewart turned and strode back into the house while Max watched their visitor with his mind. The thing in the field raised one of its arms, then dropped it. On impulse Max did the same thing. The creature did it again. Max repeated it. Then he raised his other arm and the zombie mirrored his action with its arm. The zombie retreated across the road and appeared to sit down just inside the cornfield on the opposite side.
Amelia and Tom came rushing up the stairs with Riley on their heels. Stewart was not behind them, to Max's glance Amelia said, “She had to use the bathroom. Said she didn't want to die with a full bladder.”
“There are three of them out there.” the other two nodded, “I think we are going to go see them. Maybe talk to them this time instead of trying to kill them.”
“Like Jimbo?” asked Amelia.
“Hopefully.”
Stewart came through the doorway as quiet as a ghost and Max explained what had happened with the zombie when she was gone.
“So it was signaling us? I don't like it.”
“Maybe it just wants to talk.”
“Maybe it just wants to lure us in and kill us on ground it chooses.”
“Not all of them are bad.” said Max.
“No just ninety nine percent.”
“Here is what I think we should do. Me and you go out.” Max said indicating Stewart with the tip of his shotgun, “and then I go ahead thirty feet or so, but stay far away from him and see what he wants. You will be close enough to cover me and you can see things better in the dark. Plus you are a better shot than I am.”
“I don't like it.”
“Tom, Amelia what do you think?”
“I don't like it. Every single time we ran into super zombies we got into a big fight. Only that one time did Jimbo and that other chick run away.” said Tom.
“Max you think you can talk to this one? If you stayed far enough away so Stewart could cover you, I think that would be okay, like in the center of the road. The zombies couldn't get close without you guys seeing them first. I take it Tom and I get to guard the house?”
“Well that is what I was thinking...” Max started.
“You guys are babying me.” Amelia said, “Tom and Stewart did the store, you and Stewart laid the ambush. I have fought my way through zombies before, I can hold my own against them.”
“It isn't that, just at night...well Stewart and I have the...I don't even know what to call it, 'talent' maybe or 'abilities' that make us able to handle this particular situation. Tom was just the one who went with Stewart last time. Next time we'll let you and Tom handle the ambush.”
Amelia snorted, “We'll see. I am not that stupid.”
“No really if you want on the front lines, we will put you there, no problem from me!” said Stewart.
“Okay. Tom and I will stay here, next time I go.”
“Fair enough.” with that Max and Stewart headed down the driveway towards the paved road. When they got to the end of it Stewart stopped.
“Fucking little manipulator!”
“What?”
“Amelia! We were talking about if we even were going out here to meet these guys and she turned it into an argument about her not going into danger, which sidetracked the whole argument, now look where we are. You and her must be pretty pleased with yourselves!” Max could tell she wasn't angry, if anything she seemed to grudgingly respect what Amelia had done. For Max's part he hadn't even noticed what had happened.
“I don't think that is what she did, I mean not on purpose.”
“Yeah, look where we are when the vote to go or not was tied. She subverted the democratic process. I tell you what if I get a clear shot at the zombie and it doesn't say exactly the friendly words I want to hear, I am plugging it.”
“Just let me talk to it first if I can.”
The two started walking down the paved road towards the waiting zombie.
“Waving your arms at each other might not mean anything. Or it could be a new age zombie trick to lure in hapless innocents.”
“We are not 'hapless innocents'.”
“I bet everyone thinks that, then...wham! You come to dead with your head deep inside your former best friend's guts.”
“Always the optimist. Okay you stay here, let me go up another thirty feet or so and call down to it.”
Max proceeded alone down the moon lit county road. He stayed near the dashed lines painted in the middle of the road and kept his shotgun aimed close, but not quite dead on to where the zombie was waiting. Once he reached the zombie's position on the road he turned towards it and called out.
Chapter 16
The human came forward, the delicious swirling colors that made up its body was a joy to behold, but not one that drove Red out of his mind with hunger anymore.
“Hello down there in the corn.” the guy called.
Was he the one? Would he care about what happened? Would he understand what Red wanted to tell him?
“I can see you fine there you know. I know you can hear me.”
Watching the two humans have sex on the porch a mile away had been fascinating. Their bodies had intertwined and glowed brighter during the coupling it had just about driven Hugh, the weakest of the trio, into a feeding frenzy. At first Red hadn't known what they were doing, after a moment's shock he figured it out. Then he laughed with the other two and sat down to watch the show. The three of them were much too far away to seen the details of what was going on, but the glow, it was a steady brightness that only grew larger as they proceeded. Red was caught up in his thoughts about it again when the man on the road called down a third time, “Did you want to talk?”
“Sorry.” Red called out as the man started to turn away. “Don't go. I want to talk.” And so the die is cast, he thought to himself, this is my pawn in the great game of someone else's making.
The man on the road seemed to hesitate, then turned back, “So, talk. Who are you?”
“My friends call me 'Red'. And you?”<
br />
“My name is Max.”
“Pleased to meet you Max. Where are you headed?”
“Away from here. East. I hope to run into a place where there aren't any zombies.”
“Right. How far east you plan on going. I can tell you the east coast is gone.”
“Excuse me for asking, but how do you know that?”
“I just do. You have time for a story Max, you and your friend?”
“Maybe. I am supposed to find out what you want, the others are not so keen on talking. Talking...that hasn't worked out well in the past.”
“Not with other zombies maybe, but not all of us are like that anymore.”
The man seemed relieved, “Yeah that is what I thought. We ran into one guy, well, he didn't want to fight with us, but there was another, more powerful zombie making him fight.”
Good, thought Red, he already knows something, this might not be as bad as I thought.
“You still talking?” Max asked after twenty or so seconds went by.
“Yeah. Sorry, I can get distracted at times. I am trying to figure out what to say to you.”
“Well I am not going anywhere, we plan on camping out here as long as we can.”
“That wouldn't be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“There are a bunch of zombies coming this way from Colorado and Wyoming.”
“How do you know? Or is this another question you don't have any proof for?”
Angry, Red thought, he is so angry. Then again so am I. “Max I didn't do this and I didn't want any of this to happen. It was not my plan and I am fighting against it as best I can. Some things you are going to have to trust me a little about, but in this situation I can provide proof. How did you see me?”
“I...I just spotted you across the field.”
“You didn't and I know you didn't. Not at night while I was three rows deep in the corn and half a mile away. You've killed a lot of zombies haven't you?”
Max was quiet, Red thought he was trying to decide what to say, finally he spoke again, “Okay, yeah, I have and I can kind of see zombies from a long way off now.”
“A useful talent and I took a guess that you had it after you reacted how you did on the porch over there.”
“How long were you there?”
“Long enough.”
“And you just watched us?” Max said with some anger.
“I didn't want to intrude. How as I to know you could see us? Don't worry our vision isn't that great, we knew you were there, but couldn't see much in the way of what you were doing, the corn is too high.”
“So you can see, well, I don't know what to call, life force?”
“I suppose, I see a colorful swirling of blood coursing through living tissue. It is wonderful, the most exciting and beautiful thing I have ever seen and it is in every living person. I, well 'we' really, I have two companions with me, wouldn't have seen anything, except the....what you were doing, seemed to make the colors brighter and more intense. Like a beacon.”
“Shit. It drew the zombies from Colorado here?” Max asked a little confused.
Red laughed, “No. Sorry. No. It wasn't that big or bright. More like anything a mile away could see it. How far out can you detect us?”
“That is about my maximum range too. Your friends are within range and I can sense the edges of town without any effort. If I concentrate I can see into parts of town. I have to concentrate to see you, it isn't like I just do it.”
“Well that might not be far enough to prove my point. Try casting your mind's eye further west. Do you see anything?”
The man concentrated, then seemed to stagger under an invisible blow. Behind him the woman holding the shotgun fired into the corn field a pellet winged Red in the arm, even though he dodged. The woman was fast.
“Fuck you!” she screamed firing repeated into the field where Red was moving around.
“Stewart!” Max called out, “Stop! Stop! It wasn't him!”
She fired once more, then paused to reload, standing next to Max, who was down on one knee in the middle of the road.
Red decided to proceed as if nothing had happened, “Do you see them?”
“Fuck you!” Stewart yelled, pulling the shotgun up and aiming it where Red's voice came from. Max reached up and pulled the stock down, earning a glare from her.
“It wasn't him. He is telling the truth about us not being able to stay here.”
“What is going on Max, what did you see?”
“Zombies, lots and lots of zombies.”
“How many?”
“Over a hundred and fifty thousand, near as we can tell.” said Red, moving slightly to one side after talking.
“Are you bringing them here?”
“No, me and my two friends are doing everything we can to stop them.”
“Why?”
“Because I hate them Max. I hate what they did to us and I hate what they are trying to do to you and the other humans. But I need your help.”
“What?”
“Do you want what I need or some background first? If you have time and if you promise not to shoot at me I can tell you what I know and what I need.”
“Stewart?”
“I am not inviting them up to the house for coffee. We stay here and he and his friends do not get any closer to the house than they already are.”
“We won't come any closer.”
“Okay, then we can talk. So tell your story.” Stewart said belligerently.
“It started down in Florida. My brother in law called me up and asked me to help him move his old car off the street, he said the cops were going to tow it. I came over to help, and these cops met me there and they 'arrested' me. I had no idea what was going on or even why they had taken me in. They parked next to this building and dragged me inside, it looked like a normal office building on the outside and smelled terrible inside, like being downwind of a deer two weeks dead. So we go in and I meet this guy, he looked like a mad scientist and he introduced himself as Doctor Thomas Sentry. At this point I thought it might be some sort of prank my in-law was playing, but he just stood there with a dumb look on his face, more sad than anything. The cops stayed with me while the Doc when into another room, eventually he called for us and that is when I started struggling. There were three zombies along one wall, I didn't know they were zombies at the time, but I knew there was something wrong with them. The floor was coated with blood, some dried, some fresh. The smell, God the smell, was horrible! I know what 'carnal house' smells like now; rotted and decomposing flesh. The doctor came in and told me not to be afraid and while the police held me, he bit into my neck, sure that wouldn't make you afraid. I could not move, I have to emphasize this, the cop's grips were like iron. After he bit into my neck he started sucking my blood, but it got all over me, ran down my shirt, down the outside of my jeans and splattered onto the floor. I was hurt bad too, and I knew it, there was just so much blood. Then I remember him pulling back and slitting my wrist with a small sharp knife, he did it length ways down my arm, not across it. He collected my blood in a five gallon bucket not some medical thing, just a normal looking plastic pail. The bucket already had some blood in it, half coagulated on the sides and it looked like...well, like when your momma made brownies and let you lick the bowl. There were finger streaks all through the blood, as if someone or something couldn't get enough of it. My last living memory is of watching my blood pool at the bottom of that bucket.”
"Do you remember being dead at all?”
“No. I don't have any visions to tell you about heaven or hell. If any of the others remember anything they are not talking. I can tell you this though, they burned all of the churches in town, on Sentry's orders. I think some of the faithful were inside them at the time too. The first thing I remember when I came back was having my head inside the bucket, licking up someone else's blood. I remember drinking a half dozen times, I didn't get the whole bucket, I just got a portion and when Sentry de
cided I was smart enough he booted me out with instructions to not make any more zombies and lay low until he called me. Of course not everyone followed that rule, he must have messed up his instruction to some of the others somehow and that is when the problems started. Things got out of hand pretty quickly and all of us were called up to rein in the renegade zombies. Zombies attacking others in the street and one couple moved off to a nearby community and started a nest of zombies there, it was a mess and Sentry barely got it under control before he made his plans. We like the flesh of our enemies too, blood is good, if it is fresh enough, but nothing is better than living flesh.”
“Even now?” asked Stewart.
“Now...well now I am able to control my hunger a little better, I am not sure why. Before I couldn't, I just had to eat, there was no way I could stop, aside from having the food removed from me or being ordered to stop eating.”
“So you don't eat anymore? Not even regular food?”
“No.”
“How is that possible?”
“You know what I did Stewart? Before I became what I am?”
“No, what?”
“I was an assistant manager at the 'Bait Bucket', we sold fishing supplies and bait. Do you really think I might be able to tell you what has happened to me or why I don't need to eat anymore?”
“No, I suppose not. So how'd you end up in Colorado?”
“You two know anything about 'Og'?”
Max shook his head, “No, I thought I heard the name on the radio, WWEB. Just before it went off the air.”
“Yeah that is right, well Og was actually Neil Rosol, I never liked the guy. I was with him, not by choice I had to go with him.”
“Everyone has choices Red.” said Stewart.
“Humans have choices, Stewart, zombies have to do what their maker tells them to do. Most zombies, even the smart ones never figure this out, that they can control their own 'children' quite well and even lesser zombies to a great extent. Anyway Neil and I came up from Florida. There was this guy there, Doctor Sentry, he is the one who made us all, in theory that makes him the head zombie and he should be able to control all of his creatures. However I know for a fact that controlling zombies a couple generations removed from you is more difficult than one you made yourself. If I ran into a really smart zombie...”
