by C. Dulaney
Kyra was busy searching the first house in her quadrant while listening to the boys trade quips over the radio. She had been assigned the section at the entrance of town which included the store. Ben was searching the part across the street from hers, and Jake had taken the piece next to Ben’s, which was across the way from the “No Trespassing” segment. Fine with Kyra, she didn’t care in the least if crazy Tommy Hoskins decided to throw some lead at Jake. She didn’t like him anyway, always giving her dirty looks.
She kicked her way around the kitchen, carelessly opening drawers and cupboard doors, and basically poking around the place with a don’t-give-a-shit attitude. She didn’t pay much attention to the bloody trail on the floor, or the handprints on the wall, or the length of intestines that was draped over the stairway banister. So far, this was a waste of time, and Kyra was sliding by with as little effort as possible. Her walkie crackled as Ben updated Jake.
“Still nothing. Moving on to the next house,” he said.
“Alright, be careful. Kyra, you find anythin’ yet?” Jake asked. She rolled her eyes as she walked outside, looked up the street, and moved on to the next house.
“Nope, nothing. I’m moving on to the next house too.”
“Stay alert,” Jake answered.
“No shit,” Kyra said to the cool night air. There was a slight breeze, and it carried the sweet, putrid stink of the bodies, or what was left of them, from the store and past Kyra. She crinkled her nose and stomped up to the door. Ben was leaving the house he just searched and was walking up the street to the next when he caught sight of Kyra and waved. She smiled and waved back before stepping inside.
The smell hit her in the face instantly, thick as fog, and nearly made her puke. She slapped a hand over her mouth and coughed several times while her eyes darted back and forth, trying to locate the source of the intense reek. It was a zombie, of that much she was certain. She raised her gun and aimed her flashlight ahead of her, then proceeded through the house. This one was a single story, and it was small, so not too many rooms to search, a fact she had been happy about before the stink had slapped her in the face.
The house was quiet, and the closer she got to what she assumed was the bathroom, the worse the smell. On the wall across from the open door was a huge spray of blood, with bits and pieces of bowel and the owner’s last meal spattered throughout it. This time Kyra couldn’t hold it; she turned her head and promptly lost her cookies. She wiped her mouth on her shirt sleeve, all the while keeping her gun and light raised. The blood spray went all the way to the floor, then turned into a slimy trail which of course disappeared into the bathroom.
She took a deep breath, regretted doing that when she gagged on thick stink again, then quickly moved to the doorway. It was a small room, so the source of the smell was in plain sight.
“Ugh,” she whispered and made a face. Apparently not everyone in town was at the store that day. Kasey doesn’t quite know everything after all, does she? she thought. The medicine cabinet hung above the sink, and the very dead body of a fat woman was wedged between it and the toilet. Well, previously fat. Something had been chowing down; the woman’s abdomen was nothing more than a hollowed-out husk.
Kyra dared to step closer, just enough so she could see why this thing wasn’t up and moving around like all the others. She suspected head trauma of some sort, and it turned out she was right. Apparently the lady had whacked her head a good one when she fell backwards into the bathroom. There was a severe dent in the side of her skull, and upon further investigation, Kyra found a bloody smear along the side of the toilet bowl.
She shuffled back into the doorway, biting her lip and studying the medicine cabinet as she deliberated. Should I say the hell with it, or squeeze in somehow? She was so engrossed in trying to make up her mind, she failed to notice a faint, wet, popping sound coming from the lady on the floor. The noise persisted, something like cooked spaghetti noodles being squeezed. As Kyra was about to say the hell with it, the wriggling and squirming changed into a sharp hissing.
This got her attention. She jerked the flashlight down and screamed as the beam lit up an ugly and gut-smeared opossum face. It hissed again, jaws wide and sharp teeth exposed, feeling slightly cross for having its fine dinner interrupted. Kyra staggered over her own feet and fell into the hallway. She slammed her hand against the wall to catch herself, then screamed again when she felt blood and guts ooze between her fingers. All this proved to be a little too much for her; she quickly turned and stumbled around like a drunk as she ran out of the house, exploding out of the door just in time to chuck behind the shrubbery.
“Kyra, are you okay?” Ben asked over the walkie. She jerked around and saw him watching her from across the street. He was just about to move on to his last house when he noticed his girlfriend with her head buried in a bush. Kyra wiped her mouth again, nodded, and waved her hand at him as she moved on to her last house.
“What’s goin’ on?” Jake asked. She sighed and grabbed her radio from her pocket.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Just a little sick at my stomach is all, from all the dead smell. Moving on to my last house,” she answered, still smiling at Ben, who was walking backwards up the street and watching her uncertainly.
“Copy that. Ben, any luck?”
He waved one last time at Kyra before turning and ducking into the house.
“No, still nothing. Doesn’t make any sense to me, not a single person in this town was sick? I’m inside my last house now, hopefully I’ll find something. How about you?”
“Nah, not a damn thing. I’m scopin’ out Hoskins’ place now.”
“Don’t you dare, Jake. We have enough problems without you getting into a gunfight tonight. And please make sure he can’t see you,” Ben pleaded.
“Don’t worry ya big puss, he can’t see me. He’s in there though. I can see him movin’ around behind the curtains. Be pretty easy to take him out, check his house too.”
“Leave him be, Jake. Go to the store if you’re finished.” Ben was nearly done searching this house, and he had lucked into finding some Vicodin. Other than that, nada.
“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Jake said, chuckling.
While the boys were bickering, Kyra was standing in another bathroom, this one devoid of death, and staring at a bottle of Cipro. Her mouth hung open in surprise and the beam of her flashlight shook a bit.
“I’ll be damned,” she finally managed to whisper. She leaned her gun against the sink and carefully took the bottle from the medicine cabinet. She looked at it and handled it like it was a nuclear bomb. Antibiotics, and a full bottle at that, she thought. The walkie chirped in her pocket as Ben informed her he was heading to the store with Jake.
“Are you done yet?” he asked. She stared at the bottle in her hand, not entirely sure what to do next.
“Kyra? Are you there?” Ben asked again. She snapped her attention away from the bottle and pulled the radio from her pocket.
“Yeah, I’m on my way,” she answered. She gripped the bottle tightly and stared at her reflection in the mirror. This was her chance. Payback’s a bitch, they say. There was a small trash can beside the toilet. Her eyes flicked from the bottle to the can, then back to her reflection. Yes, Perfect Revenge. She shoved the bottle down into the tissue-strewn contents, then for good measure, took a handful of toilet paper from the roll, balled it up, and stuffed it on top. She checked from every angle, making sure the bottle was covered completely. Mission accomplished.
Exhilaration pumped through her as she left the house. Exhilaration and triumph. She stopped at the front door to pull herself together. Wouldn’t be good if the guys saw her grinning like the Cheshire Cat. After clearing her throat and taking a few deep breaths, she stepped outside and started towards the store, her face set in solemn stone.
“No luck?” Ben asked when she met up with them. He and Jake stood in front of the plate glass window, Jake with a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips, and Ben fidgeting and wringi
ng his hands. Kyra sighed, shrugged, and shook her head, a little too dramatically.
“No, didn’t find a thing. Hard to believe isn’t it? You would think someone here would have had some antibiotics.”
Jake eye-balled her but kept quiet. Ben pulled the bottle of Vicodin from his pocket and shook it.
“Well, I found these. At least they’ll help with the pain. We better get up top, call it in,” he said. Jake pushed himself off the window, eyes still on Kyra, and crushed out the butt with the heel of his boot.
“Yeah, better call it in. I’ll take first watch, you two love-monkeys can get some sleep,” he mumbled and pulled open the door. Kyra lowered her head and followed them inside, the corners of her lips twitching with buried amusement.
Chapter Fifteen
October 12th
“They’re right behind me,” Mia was mumbling. Nancy, who had nodded off shortly before daybreak, was on her feet and bent close to her patient, trying to decipher her groggy words.
“Mia, it’s okay, you’re safe. Open your eyes for me,” Nancy coaxed. Mia’s eyes fluttered and slowly opened, then focused sharply on Nancy’s face.
“Who are you?” she asked. Nancy smiled and patted her hand.
“My name’s Nancy. I’m a friend of Kasey’s. I’ve been taking care of you.”
“Where is she? I have to talk to her,” Mia said, gradually becoming agitated and distraught. This confused Nancy, who had been thinking the girl had simply suffered some bad dreams while she was unconscious.
“Well, I don’t know if she’s up yet. Why don’t you just relax and get some rest. I’ll wake you w-”
“No! I have to talk to Kasey now!’ Mia shouted, pushing herself up on her elbows in spite of the searing pain. “They’re coming!”
* * *
The glow from the morning sun was just starting to cast its light through the valley when Kyra woke up. She was supposed to be keeping watch, but had been tired and frankly not too concerned. She was nestled in a corner on the roof, wrapped in a sleeping bag, and facing the other end of town, opposite the direction of Kasey’s house. Ben and Jake were sleeping a few feet from her, also wrapped in sleeping bags. She yawned, rubbed her eyes, took a look around in the pre-dawn light, and noticed something different. It wasn’t something she could see, but something she could smell. Her mind immediately flashed back to the night before, and the pungent odor of the opossum lady.
“Shit,” she mumbled and sat up straight. It was hard to see, not yet fully light, but as far as she could tell, there was no movement anywhere in town. She took a couple of deep whiffs of air; definitely something dead. She didn’t move a muscle, and was holding her breath, as she tilted her head to listen.
There was still a breeze, gusting at times and shifting in direction as it swept through town, making it damned hard to hear anything. A couple of times, when the air turned and blew straight at her face, she thought she could hear something like the hum of a distant motor, pulsing, rising and falling. That was enough to warrant waking the fellas.
“Ben, something’s up,” she said as she shook him awake. He struggled out of his bag, rubbed his eyes and groped for his binoculars.
“Wha? Whazzit,” he mumbled, still half asleep. Kyra shook him again after he was standing.
“There’s something that way.” She jabbed her finger towards the other end of town, still shaking him with her other hand clamped around his elbow. Lucidity returned to him quickly, his eyes flying wide as he bent and shook the hell out of Jake.
“What the fuck, dude? Quit it,” Jake mumbled and swatted at Ben with both hands. He lay there groaning and cussing until he realized the other two were standing at the edge of the roof, watching down the street. He scrambled out of his bag and eased over next to Ben.
“Damn, you smell that?” he asked. Ben nodded. He was pale as a sheet and his eyes were wide and bloodshot. Jake squinted, but couldn’t see anything. Ben checked through the binoculars again. Still nothing.
“Kyra said she thought she heard a motor too,” Ben whispered. The three of them looked like triplets, standing there, faces turned towards the end of town, heads tilted, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. They could definitely smell it; sweet, rotten, harsh.
“Maybe it’s noth-” Kyra began just as the wind suddenly died and an army of moans reverberated throughout the valley.
“Oh Christ,” Jake hissed. “I don’t think that’s a car.”
“I don’t see them, where are they!” Kyra cried.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Ben repeated over and over as he fumbled for his radio. Jake turned on his heel, snatched up his rifle, made sure it was loaded, and took up a position at the edge of the roof.
“Quit your bitchin’ and get your ass over here,” he told Kyra. Flustered and panicked, she hurried over. “Jesus Christ, Kyra, get your gun!” Jake shouted, fed up with what he considered to be a colossal waste of the X-chromosome. Ben was anxiously talking to someone on the radio at the house while checking his rifle and getting into position next to Jake. Kyra finally got it together long enough to flip the safety off on her rifle and get nestled back into her corner, the barrel resting on the raised roof ledge and shaking visibly.
Jake rolled his eyes, shook his head, and turned his attention back towards the sound. The smell was incredible now, which told him there was a massive group of deadheads coming their way. Great.
* * *
“How far behind you?” I was asking Mia when Zack ran through the open doorway.
“They’ve got trouble in town,” he blurted out, then bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Shannon was sitting at my desk, coloring, and Nancy was pacing the room. I held up my hand to quiet Zack before turning back to Mia, who was struggling to stay awake.
“Mia, how far back were they?” I asked again. She shook her head, her mouth and forehead crinkling like they do just before a good crying fit.
“I think about a day, day and a half? I was hurt. I tried to get as far away from them as I could, but-” she said, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. I leaned down and hugged her as well as I could, told her it was okay, not to worry, kissed her cheek, motioned for Nancy to follow me, then pushed Zack out of the room and into the hall.
“What’s going on in town?” I asked.
“Deadheads, and a whole lot of them from what they can tell. Ben can’t see them yet, but they can hear and smell them coming.” He stood with his hands on his hips, his cheeks flushed deep red, his eyes shifting back and forth between me and Nancy.
“Shit. They followed her. It has to be the same group. Time adds up too. I don’t believe this.” I pressed my fingertips to my temples and tried to wrap my head around it. A zombie horde had followed Mia all the way here. The why was pretty evident, but how the hell had they done it? Only thing I could figure was smell. It had to be smell.
“We can’t let them get to the house. If we don’t stop them, they’ll keep trailing her until they find her. When they do that, they find us,” I whispered.
“I’ll get the guns.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Zack took off down the hall and disappeared into Nancy’s bedroom. I squeezed her shoulder and forced a faint smile.
“I’ll leave the .22 and a box of shells. It’s not much, but it’s all we can spare. If this goes right, you won’t have to use it.” I held her stare until that McKinley grit filled her eyes.
“Don’t you worry about us. I’ll take care of ‘em. Hell, I had to watch over a lot more than just two back in ‘64. You don’t remember that snow, weren’t even born yet, but it was a bad one. I was stuck at the hospital for a week, just me and one other nurse. Had to take care of an entire ward full of patients,” she rambled while I helped Zack gather up all the rifles, which amounted to exactly two. The others were already in town, and I was leaving one with Nancy. We were in the basement, packing all the ammo from the gun safe into one of my old canvas bags, by the time Nancy finally stoppe
d rattling off.
“Watch over them, but stay close to the radio,” I said. Zack hurried up the steps with the ammo bag in hand as I hugged Nancy. Before letting go, I remembered one last thing.
“Oh, and no cookies for Gus while I’m gone, no matter what he tells you,” I whispered in her ear. She laughed, partly in nervousness, partly in amusement. I flashed her my best crooked little grin, then took the steps two at a time. Zack was already in my SUV and backing out of the garage by the time I got outside. I noticed, as I was sliding into the passenger’s seat, that the horses were agitated and prancing around. That was enough to fill my heart with dread as Zack peeled down the driveway.
* * *
“Ok, your grandma said they were on their way,” Ben told Jake. The sun was up now and the surrounding area was completely visible. The stench was overpowering, and the moaning even louder, but there was still no sign of the deadheads. Their hearts pounded in their chests, and all were suddenly struck with the urgent need to piss. I’m absolutely terrified, Ben thought, both surprised and disappointed in himself. Jake looked cool and calm, as usual. And Kyra, well, Kyra looked as bad as he felt.
“Ben, you there? Come back,” the walkie shouted in his hand. He jumped and dropped it, startled the way a person sometimes is when they hang the phone up from talking with one person, only to have it ring in their hand a few seconds later. Jake swept it up before Ben could wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. He smirked at Ben and shook his head, which prompted a middle finger and a tongue stuck out at him.
“Yeah, Kase, go ahead,” he answered, chuckling.
