by catt dahman
Quietly, Walt slid into place, waited for the man’s head to turn away, and crept right up next to him, knife raised. As soon as the zombie turned back, Walt slammed the Bowie knife into the ruined eye socket, hard, twisted it violently, and shoved the dead thing to the ground. As soon as it hit the pavement, Walt stomped its head, wincing as grayish brains oozed out of the broken head with a terrible, slimy pop.
No matter how many times he saw it, the scene was nasty to watch: the brains leaked out of what once was a person who had dreams and emotions. They were meat sacks, now. Death lost its dignity, if it ever had any.
Flashing the others an okay sign, Walt took point, his gun ready, but he was nervous, like the rest of the team; he worried about drawing the entire horde on them.
Even with guns, when a group of the walking dead attacked, the situation was dicey at best; the sheer weight and force of so many surged. No matter how wounded they were, without the pain receptors, they wouldn’t flinch, wouldn’t stop coming and biting, so avoiding them was the best idea.
Most were slow, but that didn’t matter when ten of the things were pushing and grabbing with twenty hands and over fifteen hundred pounds of stinking, oozing flesh, and ten sets of teeth with saliva as deadly as a cobra’s venom.
If someone saw them, the Z would moan, and the infernal noise would carry into the deserted city, drawing more from every direction. Too late, Julia saw that across the street, two dead creatures were trapped in a building and with milky eyes looked at them. The moans were muffled but faintly carrying.
“Left…move left.”
They rushed to the other truck, sweating and miserable from running in the heat and humidity. Long sleeves were better for protection but were hell in the heat.
Matt cursed, “Dad, it’s not starting.” He tried to start the truck again. “Julia, the engine won’t turn over.”
“Gasoline is getting bad,” Walt guessed but didn’t know. Reasons were secondary to the fact that they needed to get out of the area. He suddenly wished Matt had gone with Lance and wasn’t there with them.
“Inside,” said Julia as she opened a door, and they rushed into a small store. “Earrings.”
“A whole place for ear bobs? Silly,” Walt said. Amazing what people once considered important and what mattered now. Beads of all colors, fake silver, and gold all glittered from displays. With self-disgust, he snagged some, shoving them into his pockets as he ran, intending them for his female family members when they got back.
Nothing inside the store stirred, but they were on guard as they hurried to the back and after a quick glance, were out of the back door. “Clear,” Julia whispered. The alley was short, so they were able to get to the next street easily, despite the litter all along. They paused again to breath in the heavy air.
“Help a little?” Manny asked. He showed them blood on his sleeve.
Walt blanched.
“One of the displays. It cut,” Manny said, puzzled.
Julia took charge, putting cream and a bandage on Manny’s upper arm. She didn’t tell him that Walt, like she, had thought for one second it was a bite. It was a scrape that bled.
It was a rule that they treat every injury since even simple cuts could become septic in a less-than-clean world. While she performed quick first aid, Matt studied a building across from them.
“Something interesting?”
“Some of those cars look placed there; I mean parked good and not burned or beaten up. And look at the windows on the third floor; all of the curtains are pulled shut. I think I saw some flutter…but dunno…maybe.”
“Could be a Z.”
“Could be.”
Matt kept looking. “Someone was there. I don’t know; it feels as if someone were there recently.”
“Look at the front. See those body parts? Chopped up and thrown around,” Julia said.
“Oh shit, that’s sick,” Matt muttered, “sorry, Dad.” He apologized for cursing automatically, but his dad hadn’t even noticed.
Julia thought, “But that’s what Hannah and Andie did when they were caught in the city. They cut up a few zoms and put them in front; sometimes they don’t get as nosy then ‘cause it smells like them. I think those are new…well…not fresh…since they’re rotty…but more fresh.”
“No more than an hour or so, it’s fresh,” Matt said.
“Lookit the door…see? It’s barricaded,” Walt said. He picked up a small stone and pinged it into one of the windows, waited, then launched a second.
A man stared down from the third-story window.
“I knew it,” Matt said.
“Excellent. You did good,” Julia told him as the man in the window frowned at them. “You just saved our ass big time.”
Julia motioned that they were going to climb up to open a window on the second floor. The man shook his head, motioning them to go away. Her team was tired and hot, and they needed time to get a plan in place. Go away? It set her teeth on edge for someone not wanting to be helped when she had helped so many. Besides, she had a big gun.
Julia held up her gun and pantomimed: shooting it and zombies coming. She held up fingers and began a countdown. She and her team were impatient.
In a few seconds, the man appeared in an opened, second-story window. He and another man looked out apprehensively. Walt weighted one end of the rope they carried and pantomimed the plan. When he got more head shakes, Julia again threatened to fire her gun.
They ran.
Matt showed off his former high school football ability by getting the weight and rope through the window on the first attempt. Julia slapped his back and whispered for him to climb.
If the two men didn’t tie the rope off fast or hold Matt’s weight, she intended to somehow get up there and kill both of them.He moved up the rope and was helping within a few seconds.
“Move, Manny. Walt, you go next.”
“Now Julia….”
“Don’t argue. Do it,” she said. One of the men whispered down to them that they saw some zombies shambling that way and would be in visual contact soon.
They looked panicked, and her threat would no longer mean anything. If they left her out there, she hoped they suffered before dying. Julia hit the rope before Walt was inside the window, and the rope gave a sickening lurch, but she had to hope for the best as she climbed. They yanked her upwards.
Walt snapped the rope inside, and they closed the window and hit the floor as a group of five zombies rounded the corner; if one looked that way, it would have moaned, calling the rest. They were safe by a split second.
Sweat stung her eyes, as Julia looked around, heaving for breath.
“I don’t appreciate being threatened,” one of the men hissed, “we were here first, and you are big bullies.”
“I’d kick your ass for such a stupid remark, but you’d cry too loud and get those things after us,” Julia snarled.
To their surprise, the other man chuckled. “Guess, she told you, Harold.”
Harold dared a look out the window, but the zombies sniffed around and kept going. He left the room angrily.
“I’m Drake. Good to meet you, I guess, can’t say you’ll be particularly welcome here. Harold thinks himself in charge, and he’s intense. He wants to keep us a small group and hasn’t welcomed others….”
“Sometimes that works, and sometimes it doesn’t,” Walt said.
“Type A personality, he’s really stubborn about getting his way, ” Drake said, “we didn’t know any better, might as well follow him.”
They followed Drake to the third floor where a small group of people waited. Harold glared. “We aren’t sharing food and water unless you intend to threaten us again with your guns?” He cocked his head, showing that two of the men with them also had guns.
“We have our own stuff.” Matt glared back.
“We intend to get out of here as soon as we can, safely…as well as making sure our egress won’t cause you danger as well,” Julia said.
> “Egress? Fancy,” one man snickered.
“Good. We have our own business and a place to go,” Harold said.
“Hopetown,” Drake offered. Harold immediately raved about Drake’s sharing too much information. He was further angered as the four new comers laughed while wiping sweat from their faces.
“What is so fucking funny?”
Julia looked at Harold dressed in his neat pants and shirt and at his pale skin and lack of muscles. He had to have been some corporate type before. How had he survived this long? “We’re laughing because Hopetown is where we’re from, and oh, Dios, but I’m thinking about the cold river flowing through Hopetown and wishin’ I were lying in it right now.”
“Were you thrown out? What did you do there? Threaten people?”
“We weren’t thrown out. We live there, idiot. We’re on a supply run.”
“Didn’t get much, huh?”
“You need a good old fashioned ass whippin’?”
Julia put a hand on Matt’s arm to calm him. “I’m second in command: Security. If you are good people: willing to work hard and be team players, then Hopetown might accept you,” Matt snickered.
“Hmmm,” Walt said.
“I am not sure there is an obligation clause, however.” She tried to imagine Harold with Len and figured it might take ten seconds for Len to lay him out cold on his ass. Len was rough and tough, but rudeness was one thing he didn’t take lightly.
Before Harold could snap back a response, a woman whined, pointing at Manny, “He’s bitten. Oh, my God, you’re infected. Why’d you come here?”
“Hey.” Walt swung his gun up, as the men facing him pointed their guns at Manny. Matt did the same as Julia added her gun to the mix.Manny remained calm with his hands visible to the group. Once again, Manny showed his value to the team as a calm, sharp man who was able to think under pressure.
“Don’t point guns at my friend,” Julia snapped.
“He’s bitten.”
“He is not bitten. He was cut when we ran through a shop. Drake, can you come over? I will gladly raise the bandage and show you that there is no bite and no infection.”
Julia took a deep breath. “Anyone bitten would not be with us. I have put down people before, and I assure you I won’t hesitate to take out someone infected.”
“Like you would shoot a friend,” Harold said.
“You don’t know Julia, Sir,” Walt snapped back.
“I have no qualms about laying out an enemy, either.”
“Harold, I can look…we have nothing to lose by just looking,” Drake said. He walked over, and Manny raised the bandage so that Julia didn’t have to lower her weapon. Drake asked for a flashlight and meticulously looked over the scrape.
“Harold, it looks like a scrape, no bite marks or anything to indicate a bite. Also, there is no sign, sight, or smell of the infection; the wound is clean, and I would say, positively, it’s not a bite.”
Harold glared. It was as if he wanted it to be a bite. “Fine, let me see.” He walked over, looked, and motioned the men to stand down. “He’s okay.”
Julia, Matt, and Walt lowered their guns. No apology was offered, but then they didn’t expect one.
“Look, I’m sorry about all of this. We’re on the same side. It’s us against the Zs, and I realize we started off badly because of me.
There’s a horde that way, and smaller groups all around, as you probably know. We sent a truck back with supplies and were unable to get to one vehicle because it was surrounded. We didn’t want to get them headed this way, so we didn’t fire our guns. Our other vehicle didn’t start, maybe bad gas or something….” Julia had to lower the tension here. What would Len do was her mantra.
“That’s beginning to happen: gasoline isn’t right anymore,” Drake said. He admired Julia’s tact. It was the first bright point he had seen since losing his family.
“That’s why we were caught on foot. I wanted to catch a breather before we figured out our next move…finding a car…letting some of them move away from here…whatever….”
“So the head of security decides to put us at risk? Thanks, lady,” Harold sulked.
“Where we come from, we all wanna help each other. I think the plan was refuge here and then to help y’all back to our home if you wanted to go,” Walt said. “I haven’t been in this as long as Julia has, but this is a pretty good team, and I think your chances are better with us, anyway.”
“You have plenty of ammo?” Matt asked one of the men.
He flushed. “Ummm…whatever’s in this…when it’s gone, that’s all.”
Julia shrugged, “You can’t make it with that little.”
“I’m hungry,” a woman said.
Harold flashed her a furious look as if those words were a blight on him as their leader. “We’ll find food.” He was angry because, as their leader, he had them stuck here with no food or ammunition. Julia knew his type: wounded pride and a ticking time bomb.
Julia opened her pack and pulled out jerky and cereal bars.
Matt and the rest shared as well. “It’s smushed, but this is a hardboiled egg with some salt; it’s ugly now, but I bet it tastes fine.” He offered it to a younger woman who ate it rapidly and with her mouth full thanked him.
“An egg.” With envy, Drake looked at the girl eating.
“We have chickens, so we eat well; we have plenty of fresh food in gardens,” Matt said. “Sorry, I only have the one egg. We have cows, so we have milk, and we have a garden with the best veggies you will ever eat. Plus, we have berries and fruit trees. Imagine eggs and hot oatmeal with berries in the mornings, along with coffee.”
“I’m drooling,” Drake said.
“Delta. This is Base. Over,” Julia tried the radio so they could speak without drawing zombies.
“Can’t believe we’re getting reception,” Walt said.
“Base, this is Delta actual. Over.”
“Delta actual, we have Delta two back to base. Can you give us your sitrep? Over.”
The people in the room, except for Harold, looked impressed with the new people as Julia used communications. “How many are here?” Julia whispered.
“Nine of us,” Drake whispered back.
“Base, we are five by. We lost both vehicles, have made contact with nine survivors we will be bringing in, and report no injuries and no infection. Over.”
“Copy that: nine survivors for intake. Can we have an ETA? Over.” Familiar static began to buzz in Julia’s ear.
“Base, losing you. ETA may be tomorrow; we do not want an evac as it is too dangerous here. Base, the plan is to see George at his place. Over.”
On the other end, Benny paused to think. He did the mental geography and knew what Julia meant. “Copy that, Delta actual. George’s place confirmed. Will advise the Colonel. Base over and out.”
“Static is bad as always,” Julia said.
“Why can’t we go now?”
Julia saw that Harold glared again and quickly hated them more for interfering.
“That’s up to your leader.” She gave a nod to Harold. “I am sure he knows as we do that your smell is on the cars down there, and it will attract Zs; that’s why ours was surrounded.”
“Errr…right. That is my concern,” Harold said, eyes glittering dangerously, but placated.
“Cabeza de meirda,” Julia said as she heard some moans from the street. She ran and peeked out with Harold and Drake.
A woman tried to run down the center of the street, blood stained her leg, but she limped badly with her tennis shoe sodden with the flow. Instinctively, Julia raised her gun but hesitated. The gunshot would bring every ghoul within blocks of their doorsteps,
“We have to…” Matt cut off as two of the shamblers suddenly weren’t shambling so much but were almost moving at a slow sprint right toward the woman.
He saw what looked like possible bites on her arms; it was too late for her. He moved away from the window and looked at Walt like a l
ost little boy, eyes sad and big.
Walt gave his son a hug, cursing a world that made a young man an adult way too fast. For all Matt’s strength, he was sensitive when it came to seeing anyone in pain.
“Go. Run,” whispered Julia. It was too late for the woman; she would turn since she was bitten and infected, but Julia didn’t want to see what was about to happen.
“Not my car,” Harold groaned as the woman shifted off course and bashed into the car on the street before righting herself and looking around. The female zombie slammed into the woman a split second before the male.
Each took an arm and bit down, sending blood flying as the woman victim screamed and tried to break free. Both arms came free as the flesh ripped, chunks torn out; she fell onto her butt and kicked at both.
The male was on her like lightning, biting into her hand, shaking his jaws like an animal, and crunching the bones. The other had the woman’s leg in a strong grip, chewing and swallowing quickly, but the globs of flesh popped right back out of her open stomach.
On her back, the woman still screamed, blood pooling under her as she fought with the stump of her hand, one leg, and the other hand. One of them pulled her up and then let her fall back, popping her head against the pavement. That made her stop fighting as she moved lethargically, again trying to clear her head of the dizziness. They dove into their meal.
She was dead soon after.
She rose within ten minutes to join the two who took her natural life.
4
At the Texas/Arkansas State Line, no more raiders or the Reconstruction Army waited to kill or kidnap survivors, at least not in dangerous conditions. Someone passing through captured three of the RA deserters, handcuffed them securely to chains, and left them to sit in a tent with water and food, which was running low.
The three in a tent could have been zombie fodder but somehow survived being handcuffed for almost a week. “Sure glad to see you all; we knew someone would come along.”
The passerby erected the greenish tent by cutting a hole in the top so that a traffic sign would fit through and stabilize the tent. The men obviously worked at the handcuffs and chains, but they were securely attached to the traffic sign. One man almost skinned his hand and wrist, trying to free himself, but the pain was too bad to finish, so skin was just bunched up at his wrist and at the top of his hand.
