Whatever It Takes To Survive

by Mike Staton

  He stepped back from the clawing hand and turned to face the next stalker as it hit him. The sharp, boney digits of the lanky stalker opened fresh gashes on his jacket as he ducked a swipe leveled at his head. Percival brought the shaft of his hammer up under the stalker’s chin hard enough to knock it into the air. He felt the jaw crunch under the impact.

  The stalker landed, stumbled, and lashed out again. Two digits lanced hot pain through Percival’s forearm. He lashed out with a kick to thrust the stalker away that lent his leg to another light scratch. The zombie flailed as it stumbled away from him. Jessica closed into the void left by the lanky zombie.

  She lashed out, growling and hissing as she did. Percival got his hammer into the way just in time to deflect the worst of the blows. She then did something he’d never seen a zombie do before. Her hand closed around the shaft of his sledgehammer and yanked it sideways.

  The sledgehammer ripped from his grasp and thunked heavily to the ground well out of his reach. She lashed out, grabbed his jacket and yanked him toward her snapping jaws.

  He moved with intuition born of semesters of judo. He let her face splat against the hard plastic of his helmet as he slid in close and endured another slash from her hand that left his head ringing. A split second later and he’d flipped her over his shoulder with a vicious throw. She snarled up at him and suddenly ceased to be Jessica and reverted into a snarling, flailing stalker the moment before his boot crunched down into her face.

  The limb he still held immediately went slack and he let out a heavy breath of relief.

  The sharp crack of a rifle snapped him back to his senses. He spun in time to see the lanky stalker hit the ground. He looked up the hill. A shadowed form stood at the top. He moved a couple steps, scooped up his hammer and turned toward the portly stalker. He brought the hammer up and over in a smooth swing that destroyed the remaining monster. He looked back to the form on the hill. It’d lowered its rifle.

  He waved once.

  “You hurt?” Krista’s voice emanated from the shadowed form. “Better question: you suicidal?”

  He’d not had much time to talk with the Special Forces Operator that had Ian’s heart. He was, nonetheless, thrilled that she’d appeared from the darkness. He’d forgotten about the lanky man in his fight with Jessica… the destroyed female stalker.

  “I’m…” He did a quick self-assessment as he glanced down at the female he’d destroyed. While he couldn’t tell from the facial features, his boot had thoroughly caved her face into her brain, she didn’t have the bodily features that Jessica had.

  Was he going crazy? He definitively was hearing things and now he’d seen several of his dead friends and companions. He shook his head.

  “Are you injured? Let’s start with that.” Krista appeared at his side. “Did you know her?”

  “Yes… No. I don’t know. It was a blur.” Percival rubbed the side of his helmet where she’d struck him. There were tiny gouges in the plastic. Her fingers were chewed down to bone claws. Jessica’d been infected by a stalker. “But I shot her.”

  “I think you’re a little confused.” Krista snapped her fingers in front of Percival’s face. “Earth to Percival. You’re a little mucked up. I can tell that without getting close. Can you get back to camp or do I need to patch you up here?”

  “I can get back to camp.” Percival wrenched his gaze from the destroyed stalker. “Sorry. No. I was just seein’ things.”

  “You can tell me about it in the walk back.” Krista lifted her carbine to a semi-ready position and led the way.

  *

  “You’re not impervious to injury though.” Kat pulled the last stitch closed on his forearm.

  He’d been lucky that nothing important had been severed or that the gash hadn’t run deeper than it had. It wasn’t like the gaping holes and torn meat that had remained of Jessica’s arm when the stalker had gotten ahold of her.

  “I can’t get infected twice. I’m already walking down that path,” Percival muttered. His thoughts weren’t really focused on the conversation. He lifted his good arm and pressed it against his sweaty forehead. He winced as Kat tugged the last stitch tight and tied it off. She started applying a bandage atop the wound.

  He missed Sarah. He missed Karl. He wanted his old allies back at his side. The people he’d failed. “I got them killed and now they’re haunting me.”

  “Uh, uh. Don’t you go there.” Kat’s bloody hand grabbed his chin and wrenched his gaze up to meet hers. “You do not get to break down right now. I am not ready to lead these people. That’s your job, no matter your mental status. You get me?”

  Percival stared at her, studied her dark green eyes, stared into her soul. She stared back at him with an unwavering strength.

  “Do. You. Get. Me.” It wasn’t a question.

  “When did you get so forceful?” Percival asked quietly.

  “When two people decided it’d be fun to make out with me without consulting me first.” Kat released his chin. “You didn’t get anyone killed. They all knew the risks when they left Brown College with you.”

  He could hear the tone of sadness in her voice. She likely blamed herself for the deaths of Heidi and Gerry in their walk from town. He didn’t blame her. She’d handled a small horde with untrained civilians. “You didn’t get anyone killed either. If I’m not allowed to blame myself, you’re not allowed to blame yourself either.”

  “I see them in my dreams.” Kat moved down and pulled his pants leg up.

  “I don’t dream anymore. I see them while waking.” Percival looked past Kat. He winced as she cleaned the smaller wound on his leg.

  “Sometimes I wish I didn’t dream any longer,” Kat muttered. She wrapped a bandage tight around his leg. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  “Or what? People’ll get funny ideas?” Percival let out a dry chuckle that he didn’t feel. He leaned back and changed the topic. “Who else tried to kiss you? What happened with Cooper?”

  “Huh uh. Lindsey, but we’re not talking about this right now.” Kat cinched the bandage unnecessarily tight. “We’re talking about you seeing dead people. And how you knew there were three stalkers stalking our group.”

  Percival yanked his pants leg back down over his injury. He didn’t know how to explain what he’d experienced. Whispers on the wind? Hallucinating a short-time companion? Hell, he’d only known Jessica a handful of days. He looked down and shook his head.

  “Y’know how you told me I could come to you at any time?”

  Percival looked up at her. “You still can.”

  “Well, when you’re ready to talk about this, I’m here to listen.” Kat focused on cleaning her hands, washing them with what amounted to a moist towelette. “Until then, no more suicidal tendencies. Alright? We can’t lose you or anyone else like that.”

  “Wasn’t suicidal.” Percival shook his head. “I’m not going out like that. I’m holding on to this life for as long as I can. Still have things I have to do. Just… I just needed to find the whispers. See them.”

  God he sounded crazy. He sounded like Roy Joy. At least he hadn’t started talking to the zombies.

  Kat tossed the soiled towelette to the side. She silently watched him.

  “I know, it’s crazy.” Percival lowered his head to his hands and wished for Sarah.

  “Not as crazy as it might sound. Lots of people talk to things that ain’t there,” Dakota said. “Gavin managed to hail another settlement. Told me a story of some guy they called The Zombie Whisperer. Always knew when a horde was encroaching, which way to go when the horde was thickest. Not the most personable guy. Even named the undead.”

  Percival lifted his gaze without raising his head. “What was that?”

  Kat shuffled to the side as Dakota settled next to her. “She said you weren’t crazy because others are crazy.”

  “That’s not what I said.” Dakota rolled her eyes. “Just that you hearing the zombies in your head isn’t as crazy as it s
ounds. Insight and intuition manifest in strange ways sometimes.”

  “Did this guy have a name?” Percival straightened. It sounded like Roy Joy. Really, it could be anyone with a ‘unique’ way of looking at the zombies. They really were predictable, for the most part. But he latched onto the hope that the unstable man he’d met while wandering Tennessee was the same one being talked about on the radio.

  “You’d have to ask Gavin. I only heard the stories portion and he didn’t give a name outside of the title.” Dakota shook her head.

  Kat glanced between the two. “Not meanin’ to be rude, but did you come over here for a reason? Other than to drop eaves, of course.”

  Dakota shot a look at Kat that would have flayed flesh from the bone on other people. She let out a sigh. “When someone starts a statement with ‘not meaning to be,’ they tend to jump straight into being whatever it is they’re tryin’ not to be. I came over to see how y’all were doin’. You okay?”

  “Yeah. Peachy.” Kat folded her arms over her breasts.

  “Kat…” Percival shook his head slightly and looked at Dakota. “I’ve got only a couple minor injuries. Kat here fixed me up with less than half a dozen stitches. I’m not suicidal, just needed to go for a walk.”

  Dakota nodded and fixed her gaze on Kat. “I need to apologize for Lindsey. If you’d like, it can be—“

  “No need for privacy. He’s a dead man walking anyways and I’ve already related to him what happened.” Kat cut Dakota off.

  She hadn’t told him everything, just a minor tidbit in passing, but Percival was willing to let that slide for now.

  Dakota cleared her throat. “I apologize for the forwardness of Lindsey. She didn’t have the right to encroach on your personal space like that and, so you know, I approve of your dumping her ass in the dirt. She’s used to getting what she wants, be it people or equipment, and this was a bit humbling for her. I’ll do my best to see that it doesn’t happen again.”

  Kat opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her features were stuck in a silent state of shock.

  “While we appreciate that, Dakota, do I need to have a chat with her?” Percival filled the silence. “I’m quite protective of those under me. How many leaders do you know would go out to tackle three zombies all on their own?”

  “Not many. Much less jumping into a tangle with three of the clawed ones.” Dakota shook her head. “No, you don’t need to have a chat with her. If it happens again, she’ll feel my full wrath. We’re all in this together and we don’t need any uncomfortableness between us.”

  “What the fuck was she thinking would happen?” Kat almost shouted. “I mean… Not to say that…” She threw up her hands in frustration.

  Percival laid a gentle hand on her shoulder without taking his eyes off Dakota. “If it happens again, I won’t ask your permission to chat with her about it and it won’t be pleasant.”

  Dakota nodded once. “Kat, I apologize once more.”

  “Whatever.” Kat hunched her shoulders and let out a huff.

  “It’s getting late. Perhaps it’s time we all turned in?” Percival could cut the tension around Kat with a spoon.

  “Certainly. Rest well guys. For what it’s worth, I’m glad we found each other.” Dakota climbed to her feet.

  “I accept your apology,” Kat muttered as Dakota walked away.

  Dakota’s hand waved of acknowledgement.

  “I don’t know if I’m more pissed that it happened or if I might have liked it under different circumstances,” Kat said in a hushed whisper.

  Percival shrugged once and let his hand drop from her shoulder. “There’s worse things to discover. Liking the attention from another person ain’t a bad thing. Deciding what aspects you truly enjoy are what’s key though. She didn’t have the right to force you into that position.” Percival picked up his pack, winced slightly as the new stitches in his arm reminded him of his evening stupidity. “I like kissin’ girls and dancing with girls and doing other things with girls. Not so much with boys.”

  Kat rolled her eyes and flipped him the bird. Her expression and words held no malice, though. “Fuck you, Percival. Why’d I save you again?”

  “’Cause you like me.” He smiled at her, fluffed his pack, tugged his jacket close and laid down. “You’ll be fine, Kat.”

  Chapter 13

  “Why am I the one who gets to go in?” Kat stood outside of the Danielsville compound with Cooper, Samuel, Judith, and Percival.

  The Danielsville compound consisted of an outer defense of chicken wire strung between the trees. It was far enough that Kat could only barely make out the Ranger’s Station through the trees up the small hillside.

  She reached out and gave the double stacked chicken wire a tug. A bell at the top let out a crystal clear clang. The man at the gate nearby looked their way and shook his head. The gate itself was a heavy slab of solid metal on a set of rollers bolted to two trees. The setup didn’t look sturdy so much as ruthlessly efficient. A zombie wouldn’t take too terribly long to rip its way through chicken wire, but in the time it did take it’d alert everyone in the station to the nearby threat.

  “Because you’re my second and I’m not allowed inside for the obvious reason.” Percival shrugged his shoulder with the hidden bite wound.

  Kat shook her head. She wasn’t equipped for this. She didn’t negotiate with people. She didn’t like people. She flicked her tongue over her lips and looked back to Percival. “This sucks.”

  He shrugged.

  “We’ll have your back.” Cooper dropped his hand onto her shoulder.

  “Mmhm…” Kat almost immediately shrugged the hand off. Annoyance with Cooper still wormed its way through her. He’d taken it in stride and simply spent more time chatting with the others of the group; most notably Lindsey and Sapphire.

  It hadn’t helped his position with her.

  “And you’ve an old friend in there. Use that to your advantage.” Percival’s hand touched her shoulder.

  She didn’t discard it as she had with Cooper.

  “You’ll be fine. Despite the actions of a minority of their group, they’re friendly. And if it turns out to be otherwise, Samuel and I will storm the gates and let loose the hounds of hell.” He smiled.

  Samuel thumped his bat into his hand as a grin spread across his face. “Ain’t nothin’ going to stop us.”

  “Thanks guys.” Kat nodded, took a breath and let it out slowly. She nodded once more. “Alright, burning daylight. Judith, ready?”

  Judith tugged her hoodie’s hood up and nodded. Cooper grunted his affirmation as well.

  “Good.” She unslung Gloria and held it out to Percival. “I want this back.”

  “But it’s what I’ve always wanted!” Percival pouted.

  Kat let out an exasperated sigh and walked away toward the gate. Judith and Cooper fell in behind her.

  “Finally ready to see our home?” The man at the gate asked as they walked up. He filled out his brown jacket well. He stood at least as tall as Cooper and had a rifle cradled across his chest. He wore a bright orange stocking cap with an anagram that Kat didn’t recognize on it. “Ain’t a one of you bit, right?”

  “You already know we ain’t. Lieutenant Adams and Dakota searched us yesterday and Anton got a good look at Cooper’s twig and berries. They vouched for us, right?”

  “Got to ask everyone. They vouched for you.” The big man turned to unlatch a padlock. It hadn’t even been properly locked. He yanked the gate to the side. It opened surprisingly quietly. “Go on in. They’re expecting you up at central.”

  “Central?” Kat asked as she stepped through the threshold of the gate. She couldn’t explain it, but just being on the opposite side of the chicken wire made her feel calmer. The tension bled out of her shoulders.

  “Sorry, the main building up on the hill. You can see it through the trees, sort of, from here.” The gate guard pointed. “I’d recommend sticking to the path. All roads lead to Rome, all paths l
ead to Central.”

  “Thanks.” Kat shook the man’s hand, his dwarfed hers, and started up the path. Judith stalked past him without a word.

  “Keep fightin’ the good fight, my man,” Cooper said.

  “Always.”

  The walk took only a few minutes to climb up the hill following the path. It wound through the trees, and passed a couple of camp stations. A pair of young men, gaunt and thin, stopped their work on a campfire next to their tent to look at Kat and her companions as they passed. She kept a running count of people she saw. Including the gate guard, Dakota and company, it was up to eight. They obviously had the space, but not likely the food for everyone. With winter actually here, that’d be bad. She rounded the crest of the hill.

  The Ranger Station itself sat in a small clearing at the top of the hill. A metal observation tower stretched to above the tree line at the edge of the clearing. The station itself was crafted of wooden logs and designed to resemble an old log cabin. A ramp of concrete led up from a gravel parking lot to a set of double doors. The doors had originally been glass, but now bore sturdier boards.

  A few more tents were set up in the parking lot, but Kat didn’t see any more people. She glanced up the observation tower, following a cable that stretched from the roof of the station and, with the aid of shading her eyes against the sun, saw someone watching from the top. Nine.

  The radio operator would make ten, and if Krista’s partner were still around, they’d bring the count to 11. If Kat had to guess, there was more than enough room for all of them here, especially with the tents, but maybe not enough supplies to go around. She crossed the lot and caught wind of the gentle rumbling of a generator.

  That would explain the lack of vehicles. They, as Brown College had done, sacrificed vehicles for their precious fuel. She climbed the ramp, feeling ever more thankful for old man Glover having the foresight to equip his farm with an array of alternative power. Solar for the day, wind whenever it chose to blow.