The Infected (Book 4): Death Sentence

by Zuko, Joseph

  Frank saved her from this uncomfortable exchange and chimed in, “You didn’t have to bring them to us Sara. Our legs aren’t broke.”

  “I know. My day job was at a glamorous coffee kiosk. Taking a minute to hand drinks to every one made me feel… I don’t know…”

  “Normal?” Troy held up his pack of smokes and offered her one.

  It took her a second to decide. Sara wasn’t a smoker, but a chance to hang with the ‘cool kids’ was too tempting.

  Her thin fingers plucked one from the pack and she tucked it between her lips. Troy held up a lighter and struck it. She leaned forward and breathed in deep. The smoke hit her and she hacked up a lung, but was able to regain control. “It burns good. Thank you. They made the cut through the roof. It’s… really bad out there.”

  “How many rounds do you have in that duffle?” Troy tested the hot beverage.

  “About a thousand,” said Frank as he finished the mag he was working on and set it aside.

  “That’s good, right?” Sara’s eye lids went to about half mast and fought against the stinking smoke.

  “If we try to shoot them all, we’d rip through that stock pile in a minute. Then what? We’d need more before we could hit the road.” Frank nursed his drink.

  Troy’s brow dropped. “I know Jim’s plan was to hit the road after we find a vehicle and scrounge up supplies, but now I’m not so sure I want to leave the house?”

  “We’ll have to.” Frank finished his cig and flicked it into the fireplace.

  It looked like he just told seven-year-old Troy, Santa Claus wasn’t real.

  Sara exhaled a lungful, “Hitting the road could be just as dangerous as staying here.”

  Frank studied them both. Their confusion on the subject was quite clear. “Hey kids, I hear ya. I’m tired of running too, but the fact is we are surrounded by a couple hundred dead cannibals.”

  Sara shrugged at him.

  Frank turned to Troy. “I know this is your mother’s house, it’s got sentimental value, but do you have any idea how long it would take the seven of us to clean that mess up? Too long. Our best chance would be to hit the road and aim for higher ground with a lower population so we can ride this shit out.” Frank picked up another magazine and got to work filling it.

  Troy’s voice wavered, “I don’t know if I can leave. I just put my Mama in the ground this morning. She’s laying in the dirt thirty-feet from me.”

  Sara had seen the fresh mound of dirt by the flower garden, but didn’t know who it belonged to. She reached for Troy and gently rested her hand on his shoulder. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  “Son, I feel for you, I do. I ran away from my own boy after he destroyed his mother. I also had to burn my brother’s body on the sandy banks of the Columbia River. It hurt like hell to leave my bride, son and baby brother like that, but this is about survival.” Frank guzzled half his mug.

  As Troy contemplated Frank’s story, the soft sounds of the girls playing in the other room filled the silence.

  Frank continued. “There is no way you’ll let those sweet little girls playing in the other room leave without you.”

  Troy nodded as he mulled it over.

  Sara took a long drag. She let it sizzle deep in her lungs. She felt light headed from the nicotine, but she was good with it. She was thrilled to feel something other than fear. “You guys are getting way ahead of yourselves, talking about road trips, like we’re taking a weekend run to the beach. You should get up on the roof and look at what’s around us. The truth is we’ll be lucky to get out alive.”

  The room filled with a somber silence.

  Frank kept working to refill a magazine as he began his tale. “When I was a little boy, I was hiking on the family property with my brother and we came across a hornets nest. Now don’t ask me why, but I got it in my head that it would be fun to throw rocks at it.”

  “Jesus,” Sara shook her head in disbelief.

  “It was a dumb move, I know. So I talk Bob into throwing rocks with me and after a few tries one of mine hits it, bullseye. Now they’re mad and they come storming out of their broken nest and make a, pun intended, a bee-line right for us.”

  “What the hell did you do?” Troy asked as he finished his cigarette and tossed it into the fireplace.

  “We ran our asses off. The two of us bolted for this old shack that we had reconditioned into a fort.”

  “Did any of them get you?” asked Sara.

  “No, thank God. We made it, but we could hear them buzzing around outside. It was like they had our scent and they wanted revenge. I can’t be sure how long we were actually in there, but it felt like twelve hours. Bob’s crying that we’re going to die and I’m losing my cool trying to get him to be quiet so they’ll leave us alone. We were starving and both of us had to use the toilet. I had a choice to make and since the damn thing was my fault I decided I would sacrifice myself and make the run to get Dad so he could save Bob. I raced out of the fort and none of the little buggers got in, but they were on me in a flash and boy did they tear my ass a new one.”

  “You’re lucky to be alive.” Troy finished off his mug.

  “That’s what the doctor told my folks. I was swollen up like a water balloon and had to spend a week in the hospital, but I made it out of that fort alive and we can make it out of here too.” Frank set the full mag on the stack with the others.

  “Those aren’t hornets outside,” Sara said as she flicked the finished cigarette butt into the fireplace.

  “You’re right. They can’t fly.” Frank smirked.

  A smile crept slowly across Sara’s face as she came to the realization that Frank was right. “Let’s get out there and do some pest control, boys.”

  “Smoke break’s finished I guess,” said Troy as he climbed from his chair. “You mind keeping an eye on this asshole?” Troy pointed at Eric.

  “Sure, I’ll keep both on him.” Frank lifted a handful of mags for Sara to take with her.

  “Hang on to those,” Troy said. “I’m gonna make me and the lovely lady here a set of spears so we can save our ammo for when we hit the road.” Troy gave Sara a wink. “Be a dear and help me take down the dowels from the spare closet.”

  “Lead the way.” Sara waved her hand toward the hallway.

  Troy headed for his mother’s sewing room. He flipped on the light switch as he entered the crowded little spare bedroom. Boxes full of fabric and quilting supplies were stacked everywhere. Fingers tapped and scratched at the barricade on the window.

  Troy maneuvered through the tiny walkway that led to the closet doors. “Mama liked to keep herself busy with projects.” Troy reached for the first door and lifted it up out of its track. The sliding closet door came free and revealed a hundred colorful homemade outfits hanging from the dowel. Troy shuffled sideways and let the closet door lean against the barricade.

  “I always wanted to learn how to sew.” Sara grabbed a handful of hangers and took the clothing out of the closet. She draped them on top of the closest stack of boxes.

  “Why didn’t you?” asked Troy as he lifted the second door out of the track and leaned it against the first one.

  “My Mom wasn’t into it. I would have had to buy all the gear and it was never in the budget. I did do a little sewing yesterday.” Sara wrapped her arms around a quarter of the hanging clothes and lifted them out of the closet.

  “Oh yeah, what was the project?” Troy managed to get the rest of the hangers into his outstretched arms and cleared the rest in one move.

  “I stitched up Jim’s forehead and leg,” she said proudly, then noticed how impressed Troy was and added. “I also fixed his broken nose.”

  “Well hotdog, ain’t you cool under fire. I did a little medicine man work myself.” Troy looked and noticed each of the three hooks holding the dowel in place were screwed to the wooden rod. “We’ll need a philips head.”

  “Who did you fix up?” Sara stepped out of his way as Troy moved for the door. />
  He pointed at his wrist. “I had to reset Karen’s dislocated joint. The popping sound will haunt me for the rest of my handsome days.” Troy looked back to see if that got a smile out of the young lady. It did.

  He stepped from the sewing room and trekked along the hallway for the kitchen. Troy opened a full junk drawer and found the tool he was looking for. As he turned to head back for the bedroom, he crashed into Sara. She had been quiet as a mouse and tailed right behind him the whole time.

  “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t know you were behind me.” She carried a look of pain. “Are you okay?” he asked as he rested his big bear paw of a hand on her shoulder.

  Sara’s voice cracked. “No.” She was mixed up on the inside. She didn’t know this man, but she could absolutely feel the kindness in his heart. Sara hadn’t realized how much she needed some kindness right now. The last day had been a whirlwind of constant fear and madness. Right now Sara needed to feel something other than terror. She craved safety and warmth. Sara stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Troy’s torso and rested her head on his chest.

  Without thinking Troy hugged the young woman back.

  The garage door opened and Karen entered the dining room. She noticed the two embracing in the center of the kitchen and paused.

  Troy looked at his sister.

  Karen motioned, ‘What’s up?’

  Troy signaled, ‘I have no idea.’ The woman cried softly onto his chest.

  Karen snuck back into the garage and left them alone.

  Troy caressed Sara’s hair and whispered softly. “It’s alright. Everything is going to be alright.”

  She wasn’t sure she could believe it. Maybe she would never feel safe again, but it sure was nice to hear him say it.

  Jim stood at the edge of the garage’s roof. He tugged the rope tethered to his waist. A good sized knot hung at his back and the rest of the rope extended like a tail, heading toward the hole cut in the roof where it was anchored to a truss. There was only a little slack in the line.

  “It feels solid. How about you?” Jim hollered to Cliff on the other side of the roof.

  “Yeah, I think it’s good.” Cliff pulled at his rope with all his might and it didn’t budge.

  “I’m gonna give it a try.” Jim lay a rug on the shingles next to the busted rain gutter. Then he knelt on the rug. Below him the monsters stirred as a gust of wind carried a face full of stink off them. “Christ, they reek.”

  “They’re rotting. You think it smells bad now, wait a few more days. It will roast your nose hairs.” Leon passed Jim his spear.

  “Well that’s something to look forward to,” Jim said as he took the weapon by the handle. He looped the lanyard around his wrist and steadied the blade above the infected heads. The beasts reached for him. Their diseased hands clamored for his weapon.

  “Here we go.” He gripped the walking stick tightly, then plunged the blade into the skull of a lady. Her light switch flipped off and the infected body dropped to the ground. One of the infected grabbed for the spear and sliced off its own fingers. Jim made a quick move and scrambled the thing’s infected brain. Jim righted himself once more and gave his report.

  “Okay, that was easy.” Jim punctured the next one.

  Leon climbed out of the hole, but kept his hand wrapped around the lip of the opening. From this position he could see the bodies stacking up.

  “You’ll only be able to kill a couple dozen or so before you’ll have to move to a new spot. We don’t want them stacking up and climbing the roof.” Leon stayed in a squat as he inched toward the apex of the roof. Cliff had taken a spot on the opposite side of the building. He knelt on a rug next to the roofs edge. He made the same thrusting move as Jim, but his was filled with anger.

  “You guys seem like you got it. I’m going to make my own spear so I can help.”

  “Sounds good,” Jim grunted as he killed another infected.

  Leon scurried into the dark attic and left them to it.

  Jim worked through two dozen monsters before the bodies began to pile up and he figured it was time to change position. He got to his feet, lifted up the rug and inched along the edge toward the main part of the house.

  “Well this is a definite change of pace.” Jim lay the rug down and knelt on it. “By this point in the day I would have taken a bunch of stupid phone calls from dumb and irritating customers.” He stabbed an old infected man.

  “My work buddy would have just rung up his first sale of the day. I’d be jealous.” Jim slaughtered a teenage girl.

  “My manager would have teased me about something. My sales numbers or how I was late to work again. He had a list of things he enjoyed harassing me about.” Jim cut down an overweight man in a workout tee-shirt that read. ‘Masterpieces aren’t built in a day.’

  “Now they’re gone.” Jim split the face of an old lady. Jim paused as he sighted in the next target. He steadied his breath and a thought occurred to him. He talked only loud enough that he and the infected below could hear.

  “Most of my day was pure bullshit…”

  Stab.

  “…and now that the world seems like it’s coming to an end…”

  Stab.

  “…I’m finally not living a meaningless existence.” He scalped two more. “Well that just bummed me out.”

  Jim killed another dozen before he moved on to the far corner of the garage. As he walked along the edge he watched as Cliff laid waste to the monsters below. It looked like he was angrily churning butter.

  “Hey! Don’t let them stack up.” Jim yelled.

  Cliff stabbed one more before he looked to see who was yelling at him. Cliff looked like he had no idea what language Jim was speaking.

  Jim pointed to the other corner of the garage. “Move down there, okay?”

  Cliff gazed at the pile of bodies he’d created, then looked back at Jim and gave him a thumbs up.

  Jim turned his back to Cliff and kept his voice low.

  “He’s fine. No way is this going to end badly.” Jim was a horrible liar, even to himself.

  Leon hurried out of the attic and found Karen standing with her ear close to the door. “What’s going on?” He asked as his feet hit the cement.

  Karen snapped out of snooping mode and stepped away from the door. “Nothing, just enjoying a moment of peace, how is…” Karen motioned at his groin. “…everything?”

  A nervous smile zipped across his lips, “I’m fine. He just grazed me.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m looking to build my own spear so I can help.” He motioned around the garage. “Got any ideas?”

  Karen thought about it as she scanned the room. On the far wall hung a rake, a wide bristled broom and a few different shovels, two of them still had dirt crusted on the edges from the grave she dug with Troy. She felt an urge to tear up when she thought about her mother, but was able to push through the pain. “That might work.” Karen said as she pointed at the broom. “It unscrews from the head, then we can attach a knife from the kitchen.”

  Two long strides later and Leon was next to the broom. He lifted it from the nail, turned and faced Karen. His eyes went wild. His lips snarled. His teeth flashed white as he growled. He looked like an insane maniac on a murderous prowl. His arms violently wrapped around the head of the broom and he gave it a vicious yank, as if he had broken its neck.

  Karen’s expression went blank. For five seconds she gawked, before she busted out a belly laugh. “That was great. You’re such a goofball. That was just what I needed. Thank you.”

  Leon spun the head until it was free from the stick and as smooth as a sly fox he said, “I figured. It’s been one of those trying days. Hasn’t it?”

  “For every good thing, there have been ten bad.” Karen gingerly touched the sore parts of her face.

  “But you got your Jim back. That’s pretty exciting, right?” Leon set the head on the work bench. “Duct tape?”

  “Yes, I can’t put it in
to words.” Karen opened a drawer, found a roll of silver tape and handed it to him.

  Leon scooched close to Karen and entered her personal space. The fight with Eric was still at the forefront of her mind and she became rigid. He smiled to put her at ease, but it only made the situation worse.

  “I know sometimes I can be a little… different. I blame my parents.” He laughed and shook his head in disbelief.

  “I’ve had people tell me I’m like an alien who doesn’t understand the customs of humans. Can you believe it? But what I think happens is, when I am around a loving family, such as yours, I just don’t know how to act. I’m not used to it and I get all up in my head and say… weird stuff. You know what I mean?”

  Karen tried to look him in the eye, but he was too intense. To save herself from this awkward moment she made her own goofy face and socked him in the arm gently. “It’s okay…” She tacked on, “,buddy,” a few seconds later and that only added to strangeness of this moment.

  His head ticked to the side. “I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?” Leon looked her up and down. Noticing for the first time how he was on top of her. “I’m standing way too close and you are uncomfortable, correct?”

  He leaned back as she answered as politely as possible. “Yes…? I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He moved for the door. “I just wanted to thank you again for letting me out of the cell and for giving me a second chance.” He hesitated and looked unsure of what to say next.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re here with us too. Leon, it is okay to be a little different. Everyone is strange, now and then.” Her voice was as sweet as apple pie and her smile filled him with confidence.

  “Thanks, Karen.” He grinned like crazy, but this time he did it on purpose. “I’m gonna go act so normal right now as I tape a knife to this broomstick and use it to stab infected people in the brains. Cheers.” Then he disappeared into the house.