Aftermath (Book 2): Chicago Calling

by Duncan McArdle

  Lester meanwhile was now outside of the camp, slowly making his way around the front of the truck, weapon drawn and on high alert. Soon enough he’d established that nothing seemed to stir in the vicinity – which was a miracle in itself considering the amount of noise that had been generated – and so he began walking back towards the entrance. Directly in his path, the sight of blood was incredibly prominent, leading even him with his huge size and stoic character to have to fight hard against the urge to vomit. He was more than used to the sludge-like substance when it was coming from those that were already dead, but much less so when it was ran free from a fellow human.

  “Chop it off, NOW!”, Harvey yelled suddenly to Sonja.

  “What!?”, Sonja replied.

  “The leg, before the… before the infection s-s-spreads, take it off!”, he insisted again, fighting through stutters of pain and shivers of shock.

  “Harvey, we don’t even know if that’ll work”, Sonja pleaded, “You might not even be infected!”.

  “We both know I’m inf… infected”, Harvey screamed, “So take the damn leg off, give me a chance!”.

  “Harvey...”, Sonja hesitated, “I-”.

  “PLEASE!”, he yelled.

  With that, Lester arrived, and having heard the full conversation quickly made his way over to the adjacent wall, grabbing hold of the axe that leant against it.

  “Lester”, Sonja said as she realised what the man was doing, “Do you think this is such a good-“.

  “Got a better one?”, he interrupted, knowing that time was an important factor right now.

  Unable to come up with anything, and suddenly feeling incredibly defeated, Sonja shook her head and took her hand off of the wound, knowing it belonged to a limb that was about to be removed. Slowly she stood up, failed one final time to say anything of any use, and then averted her gaze.

  The blade of the ever-reliable axe was neither sharp nor blunt. It had been used to take care of countless enemies – one of which remained outside at that very moment with two arrows embedded in it – and had yet to let anybody down. But there was a vast difference between bringing down a biter, and cleanly severing a human limb. The blade was coated in infection, which Lester was now in the process of hastily wiping away, and was nowhere near the sort of sharpness you would expect from a surgical scalpel or bone saw. But despite this, as well as any other reservations Lester or Harvey might have had, at that moment in time, it was their best option.

  Moving slowly so as to allow Harvey every opportunity to stop him, Lester firmed his grip on the axe with both hands, and began to lift it upwards onto his huge, broad shoulders. Finally, he gave one last long stare into Harvey’s gaze, waiting for him to say something. But instead the injured man simply looked away and firmly shut his eyes, and in doing so replaced any sense of preservation Lester still held with a sense of urgency instead. He further reclined the axe so as to generate as much power as possible, and then brought the weapon slicing through the air until it crashed down hard onto the leg, submerging itself into the area just above the kneecap, where Lester hoped he’d find the least amount of resistance.

  The screams that followed were audible not just in the immediate vicinity, but on the floors above also, and no doubt for a significant distance in every direction. All John wanted to do was gag the man, or perhaps even knock him unconscious, but he couldn’t bring himself to further aggravate a person who was already going through hell. Instead he simply watched on as Lester pulled the axe back up onto his shoulder once more, reclined it high into the air, and for the second time threw the blade downwards, this time cutting through the final few strands of leg that had escaped the wrath of the first run.

  Not long after the second blow was dealt, Harvey’s pain-riddled yelling was reduced to drunken mumbles, and then eventually to silence. John watched over the man as he underwent the various steps of agony, until he ended the process by falling into an unconscious stupor, to which John breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of pain Harvey must be in, but he also knew that noise like that could easily get them all killed. In fact, not long after the shouts had stopped, came another, this time from a less pained voice.

  “Biters!”, Sonja called from outside, having moved to the entrance in order to excuse herself from the amputation area.

  “Course there are”, John said to himself, “You alright here?”, he asked of Lester, who nodded whilst attempting to stem the bleeding, and then gestured for John to head outside.

  Obliging, John picking up the axe so recently used to mutilate his fellow guard, and then ran out in the direction of Sonja.

  Before moving through the entrance and back into the open, John briefly noticed Andrew returning with two others, all three of them now heading over from the far end of the car-park. The two women he’d brought with him – one of whom was in her forties, the other in her seventies – were both well known around camp for their medical knowledge, one of them having been a surgeon in their previous life. John was sure they’d both be able to stop Harvey from succumbing to blood loss soon enough, but he was less sure that the infection wouldn’t beat them to it.

  Putting it out of his mind, John arrived outside just behind Sonja, and immediately set his sights on the two biters that were wandering over from a little further down the street.

  “Just these two?”, John asked, looking over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t about to be ambushed by others.

  “Yeah”, Sonja confirmed, “But the one on the left’s fast”.

  John looked again at the left-hand figure – a young woman with long red hair that was bouncing emphatically behind her – and suddenly realised she was not in fact walking, but sprinting, right in his direction.

  Not wishing to mess around with a member of the undead capable of wreaking an incredible amount of havoc, John kept his knife in his right hand, and swiftly gripped his pistol in the other, just in case things looked even remotely likely to go south.

  “Don’t go making this worse”, Sonja said to John as she tailed off to take care of the slower figure on the right, having noticed his emerging pistol and knowing that another gunshot would only complicate the situation, especially one fired out in the open like this.

  Complying, John lowered his Ruger a little and instead analysed the approaching girl, trying to gauge her speed with every step, gathering as much information as possible before he struck.

  Soon however he was forced to act, due to the gap between him and his would-be-murderer now becoming too close. Instinctively John pointed the blade upwards and held it low, and upon his target getting within distance, swung the knife for the sky, catching the girl right underneath her chin, and immediately piercing skin and bone. With ease, the blade sailed up into the skull, severing whatever few remaining ties had remained inside her head, and causing her eyes to close sleepily not a single second later. Using her own momentum against her, John further forced the blade back, carrying the relatively light girl off of her feet, and then sent her crashing down to the ground back-first, at which point the blade came free once more.

  Turning to check on Sonja, John looked just in time to see her easily dispatch her much slower individual, courtesy of a well-placed knife to the side of the head. Sonja wasn’t as strong as John, nor was she as skilled with a knife or just about any other weapon – save of course for a bow – but there was no doubting that she had adapted incredibly well to the new world. If not shown in her killing, it was a fact evidenced by her ability to recover from the devastating blow she had just dealt in a mere moment, before quickly turning and heading back towards the building.

  Following close behind, John arrived with Sonja just in time to see the two medically-trained residents cauterising the wound, courtesy of a pan they’d hastily filled with fuel and set alight. It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t likely to stave off the infection, especially if it had made it that far up the leg, but it was just about all they could do to stop the blee
ding. Quickly both women set about bandaging things up, using up some of the few remaining medical supplies the camp had left.

  “Whaddya’ think doc?”, John asked the younger of the two women, herself the ex-surgeon of the pair.

  “I think this isn’t a hospital, and that I’ve…”, she began before cutting herself off and looking away, knowing how important Harvey had been to her own safety in the past, as well as everyone else’s. Suddenly she turned to John in particular, and lowered her voice. “I’ve never seen anybody survive a bite before”, she said, already sounding as if she’d admitted defeat.

  “I know”, John concurred, looking down at the mangled leg that was now singed, smouldering and already turning the numerous layers of bandage wrapped around it into a sickening tone of black and red. “I know”.

  Chapter 35: Like old times

  “Up”, John instructed, to which a series of people carried out their assigned tasks, “And down”.

  Slowly they lowered Harvey’s still unconscious body onto the ragged mattress they’d managed to secure from the apartment building next door, pushed underneath while the group lifted him up. It was far from the most comfortable or medically sound way to rest the injured man, but it was about the best the camp had to offer.

  In the minutes prior, they had set about moving Harvey away from the entrance, towards a particular spot along the ground floor wall inside the building. The move was partly for the sake of keeping him safe, partly to stop his yells from attracting much more attention, and also for one other important purpose. Despite how prepared they were for just about anything, and despite the fact that they were all still clinging to the idea of Harvey pulling through, they all knew that precautions had to be taken.

  “I hate this”, Andrew said plainly, looking down at his fallen friend and then to the god-awful makeshift bed they’d made for him, and finally to the particular stretch of wall they’d placed him against.

  “You and me both”, John said, bending down to the body and taking out a series of cable ties from his back pocket, retrieved from the hardware store a few weeks prior. “But I’m sure he’d understand”, he added.

  With great remorse for the action despite the circumstances, John slowly set about wrapping a series of the restraints around Harvey’s right wrist. Upon finishing, he then coiled some more around the edges of those first ties, and then secured them in place against the pipe running vertically next to Harvey’s body. Finally, John threaded a rag underneath the cables in order to reduce the irritation they might cause, and then tightened them all one final time. At least now if he did turn, he wouldn’t pose a threat to others.

  “You know he’s gonna’ be pissed when he wakes up right?”, Lester pointed out upon John completing his task.

  Andrew nodded nervously in agreement, knowing only too well how enraged Harvey could become.

  “He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up no matter what we do”, John said, “But he’d probably do the same to us”, he added, “Or worse”.

  With that, John stood up and gestured for Andrew to follow him, before moving off in the direction of the entrance.

  “What is it?”, Andrew asked upon catching up, the two now walking together with Lester bringing up the rear.

  “I think we should head out, check out some more houses”, John said.

  “Now!?”, Andrew asked in shock, “In the middle of all this?”.

  “We’ve still got most of the day”, John said, “And we both know that no matter how this turns out, we’re either gonna be burying him or looking after him”, he continued, “Which means the chance of us being able to leave afterwards is slim”.

  “But John”, Andrew said, “When he wakes up we’ve got to be there to deal with him, and we’ve got the truck to unload, and we might even have more undead coming from all that noise”.

  “Sure, we might”, John agreed, “But nothing’s stirred in a while”, he said, “And the unloading is… well…”, John tailed off and instead pointed forwards towards the rear of the trailer.

  Since news of the supplies being brought back had spread to the upper floors, combined with what little information was known about Harvey’s situation, residents of the camp had been bending over backwards to help. Soon enough, a line of people stretched halfway along the ground floor, as everyone that could walk was being handed supplies by those that had already climbed into the back of the truck, and were then carting its contents off upstairs. The sense of community was high, and not a single person walked by Harvey without looking over at the injured man, the concern they had for him evident in their gaze.

  “They’re taking care of this”, John continued, “They don’t need us right now, and Lester and Sonja can look after the base until their shift is over”.

  “I don’t know”, Andrew said hesitantly.

  “We head out, take maybe a couple of hours, clear a few places, and then we’re back before he’s even awake”, John proposed once again, “Nobody misses us, and we don’t waste another opportunity to raid somewhere we know we need to hit”.

  Andrew thought over the proposition, knowing how persistent John was likely to be, and knowing even more so that if he said no, there was a good chance John would go alone, at much greater risk.

  “Fine”, Andrew said finally, before walking away in the direction of the eighteen-wheeler’s cabin outside the base, “I’ll get my stuff”.

  John meanwhile stood proudly, happy he’d convinced Andrew and also that they’d be making the most of what little remained in the day.

  “You should be here when he wakes up”, came Lester’s deep voice from over John’s shoulder.

  John dipped his head slightly, knowing Lester was right. He hadn’t had the best rapport with Harvey, but he’d been there on the run, he’d watched him get bitten, and he’d been the one to tie him up. Whatever his opinions on the man, he had an obligation to be there.

  “I know”, John agreed, “I’ll make sure we’re back”.

  * * *

  A little while after midday, the familiar sight of a Ford F150 emerging into the outside world was repeated once more, as the truck made its way out of the car-park’s entrance. The Ford snaked around the newly delivered trailer – where the residents had temporarily stopped unloading to let the vehicle through – and then turned left, heading along the main road in the direction they had so recently come from.

  The plan for the afternoon was simple. There was a long stretch of houses on East Capitol Drive between where they’d left off – the gas station they’d hit a few weeks earlier – and the supermarket that’d been more recently raided. There was no way they’d be able to cover so many properties in one day, but John was keen to at least cross a few off, so that they might eventually move onto the next road, and then the next.

  Not long before they were due to arrive at the first set of raiding spots, Andrew asked a question that John knew was bound to come up, but had hoped to avoid for a little longer.

  “What do you think his chances are?”, he said.

  “I don’t know”, John replied, “He’s still breathing, that’s something”.

  “I’ve never seen someone survive a bite”, Andrew said, “Or even a scratch”, he added.

  “Me neither”, John confirmed in a saddened tone, “But he’s a strong guy, and we acted fast”.

  “Yeah, with an axe covered in infected blood”, Andrew pointed out, already sounding as if he’d accepted the worst case scenario.

  “Let’s just wait and see”, John said, “But for now, put it outta’ your mind, we’ve got a job to do”.

  Andrew nodded, giving himself a quick shake as if to remove any doubt, and then placed his attention back on the road ahead, just as the gas station sailed by to the left.

  Suddenly they found themselves entering un-raided territory, stretching for several blocks right up to the supermarket. The calibre of housing here was a little lower than before, something that immediately dampened John’s already low
spirits. But despite that, the properties were still nice, and still reeked of wealth, so it seemed to John that there was still every chance they might find what they needed.

  “Ready?”, John asked as he pulled the F150 up towards the side of the road, killing the engine and already eyeing up the first target.

  “Ready”, Andrew replied, in response to which John began disembarking, shortly before Andrew did the same.

  “Stick together”, John said, “There’s only the two of us this time”.

  “No arguments here”, Andrew replied.

  The first house was a strangely shaped and even more strangely coloured two-storey number, with an adjacent garden that was shrouded in trees that obscured whatever might be inside. John approached first, looking into what little he could see of the garden. But not long after he’d arrived at the surrounding fence, had he instead quickly made his way to the rear of the property, in order to check if there was anything else to it.

  “Nothing here”, John said after just a few seconds of analysis.

  “Nothing?”, Andrew asked, “You barely looked”, he said doubtfully.

  “The fence doesn’t have a gap big enough for a boat, and there ain’t no garage to the rear”, John explained.

  “John”, Andrew said hesitantly, “We still have a camp to feed, we don’t just need a boat”.

  “Are you kidding me?”, John asked. “We just brought back a whole trailer of food-“.

  “Which will eventually run out, and need replacing”, Andrew interrupted.

  John glared at Andrew for a moment, and then soon looked back to the property in front. The two of them stood there were beginning to look like potential buyers discussing its many traits, and whether or not it was overpriced for the neighbourhood or poorly located to nearby schools.