Flirting With Death: Surviving The Infected

by Boyd Craven III

  “Yes he does, but he looks at me too, that's why I can't figure out if...”

  “Please stop. There's too much else to think about.”

  “Sarah, cut the shit and quit being so practical. I want to know, you want to know. I just want to know if you think about him like that too?”

  “It doesn't even matter.”

  “It does. We're friends, right?”

  “Yes,” Sarah's voice, sounding defeated.

  “How long have you known him?”

  “It seems like forever. You?”

  “Not long enough.”

  “Well, I'm not going to fight you over him, but this has been awkward from the start...”

  I looked at Frank in a panic, but he just gave me a pained smile. I looked to Katherine and she had her hand over her mouth, holding back from laughing out loud and giving away our position.

  “Oops,” Frank whispered.

  The rest of the conversation on the recording was even worse, lasting another two minutes. The loop wasn't quite done until there was another two minute pause when the Star Spangled Banner started up again. When it was done, Frank hit a button on a small remote. My ears were on fire, my cheeks so red that nobody would recognize it as human skin. I'm glad I hadn't seen the girls, but when I met Katherine's eyes, she was smiling wickedly. It was all I could do not to take off. There was no way that... Surely, she hadn’t…

  “Don't move,” Frank whispered sharply. “Movement, 8 o'clock”

  Chapter 16 – Who's going zombie hunting?

  December 21st, 2015

  After a couple of moments, I could hear something pushing through the underbrush, no attempt at silence, and the sound was joined with something else almost at two o'clock, in the direction Claire was. My heart rate shot through the roof, my blood roaring. I knocked an arrow and was surprised to see how bad my hands were shaking; the broad head was almost bouncing off the end of the rest when the infected from Claire's direction came into my sight. It was male from what I could tell, and its clothing was in tatters. The funk of corrupted flesh seemed to fill the small open area we’d set up around by the railroad tracks, despite the freezing temperatures.

  The infected was close to Claire before I could raise my bow, but with a casual draw and release, an arrow flew from her bow and hit with a wet thump in the center of its forehead. It went limp and it slumped soundlessly to the ground. My hands were really shaking, and I lowered my bow to listen. Katherine's breathing was the loudest thing I could hear, and I wondered what happened to whatever movement that Frank had talked about from 8 o'clock

  The minutes seemed to tick by and I could see Frank move his hand, ready to key the remote again when a dead head shambled out into the open. He was different than any of the other infected I'd seen early on. He walked softly, slowly, his nose raised to the air. If he didn't already look dead, I would have sworn that he was a normal person with a nasal fixation, sniffing out the issues. The infected paused about ten feet from the predator call and looked around the clearing before lifting his face to smell the air again. The action sent chills down my spine and I slowly raised my bow, the arrow already knocked.

  I don't know why my hands weren't shaking like they were before, but I slowly extended my left arm, pulling the string back with my right, when the zombie looked towards where Sarah was hidden. So far, I'd only killed these creatures out of self defense, or running for my life. I debated whether I could do it in cold blood; after all, this was a hunt. I centered the sight on the center of the Z's head and let go.

  The snap of the string releasing was loud and the sting across my arm almost made tears come to my eyes, but the real horror was the arrow flying straight and perfect, nicking the zombie's ear, missing the center mass entirely. It slapped at its head, and its insane eyes fixed on my position. My heart rate went through the roof again and my vision narrowed. The dead head started running in my direction as I fumbled for another arrow, my hands shaking horribly, until I heard another wet smack and the deadhead fell almost at my feet.

  Sarah lifted her chin to me and nodded, and all I could do was hope the day would end soon with all of us safe.

  The rest of the afternoon was spent mostly in hiding, and I tried not to cringe every time Frank played the loop. Even the girl's faces were turning red after the fourth time it was played aloud, but no more dead heads popped up. I was ready for my kidneys to start floating when Frank finally approached and waved everyone out of cover.

  “I think that's all we're going to get. I don't want to overdo this here and end up drawing them closer in.”

  “Yeah, I'm ready to go,” Sarah said, smiling at me, probably ready to rib me on my miss earlier and how she had to make a save on me.

  “I have to use the restroom,” Justin told his mom.

  “Me too,” I said, nodding towards some trees, asking Frank if things were safe. He nodded and we headed off towards the heavier brush.

  We stood almost back to back, watering the wild mint and evergreens and I avoided the subject. That was his mother I had heard, and Janie's little sister. I had known they had gotten close, and honestly I was jealous. Of whom, I didn't know; all I knew for sure was that I continued my existence in the living room of the cabin, when I sometimes dreamed of being in a soft bed, lying next to Janie.

  “My mom likes you,” Justin told me.

  “Shit.”

  “No, really, she does.”

  “I know she does, I just meant... I don't want to talk about this right now.” I said, zipping up.

  “Well, when will you talk about it? My mom and Miss Sarah are keeping me up late, talking and arguing. Can I get the couch by you tonight?”

  I smiled; the mental image inflated my ego, and my head, to gigantic proportions. I wasn't too old to feel flattered, and I waited another moment or two before turning, making sure I heard the kid’s zipper before walking towards the tracks and his mother. I tried not to look embarrassed, but honestly, I didn't know what to feel. I didn't want to hurt either woman, but my heart was still spoken for, even though I'd had moments, brief thoughts where I'd thought that I should feel so guilty. Part of me had moved on, but my emotions were still torn and confused.

  “Hey boys, let's go back, before more dead meat shambles this way,” Katherine said with a grim look on her face.

  “OK, you ready Jim?” Justin asked me.

  I looked at the three ladies, my father in law, and then to Justin, all eyes were looking at me, gauging me. I hoped I wouldn't get them all killed someday...

  “Yeah, I'm hungry now, too.” I told them.

  “Wait a sec,” Sarah said running to the corpses and pulling the arrow free from her shot. She tried to pull the arrow from the first kill, but it bent and she left it.

  “Ugggg.” Justin complained.

  “That is getting washed off before it even gets close to the cabin.” Frank told her, then turned his back and started walking.

  I knew how long it was going to take us to get back, I'd used my odometer a few times to figure out how far until the driveway, but it had been so carefully hidden that you'd never find it without knowing it was there first. The walking was easy on the two track trail, beaten down from my Jeep's repeated passages, except for the snow. My mind wandered a bit, and it went to food as it often did lately. I'd been eating foods that I normally wouldn't, spicing things up to give it more flavor. There were things that had started invading my thoughts though, like milk.

  Every time I thought of milk, I'd think of cheese, every time I thought of cheese I'd think of pizza... When I thought of pizza I wanted a beer, when I thought of the corona in the now functional fridge I would remember that it was Janie's favorite. Damn, even thinking about food brought me back to Janie lately, so instead of obsessing about chocolate, ice cream and yogurt, I thought of the myriad ways that the flour that Katherine had stored in one of the sheds was used. Breads, muffins, biscuits, pancakes… But the food was still bland.

  I missed som
ething else, something I never would have thought I'd get the cold sweats thinking about.

  I wanted a Big Mac.

  My mouth watering, I wondered if I could grind some venison with black beans, add some canned bacon to the grind, and come close... The canned cheese would have to do, and we were still able to find wild greens on warmer days... Maybe. I decided that I would make dinner tonight. There was a griddle I could use on the wood stove. Successfully diverting my thoughts of the awkwardness earlier, I was swept away and ready to start dinner when Justin asked,

  “Hey, where did Sarah go?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, embarrassed that I had been so lost in my thoughts with no concern for anybody else.

  “Katherine, get the rest into the house, I'm going to look for Sarah.” Frank said, more of a command than a suggestion.

  “I'm coming too,” I told him, handing my bow to Justin.

  “No, you stay here, I’ll go.” Claire offered.

  “You have Justin to look after,” I told her softly, pointing out she was better capable of protecting her son than I was without being too obvious.

  I could pull the trigger, but my woodcraft skills were limited. I did know I was pretty perceptive, and I could find her trail, snow or no snow.

  “But I can help out with…”

  “Claire, you keep my wife safe. You have a son to protect.” Frank told her, the subject closed as far he was concerned.

  Frank gave me an odd look, until I pulled the Dirty Harry special out of the holster. He just nodded to me and the ladies took off, Justin in tow. They had a five minute walk left, and little chance of running into any issues. I thought about the fact that Claire hadn't said anything, as the ladies had been walking side by side; how could she have missed Sarah dropping out of the line? My blood ran cold with the possibilities, and I looked behind me as she put her hand on her son’s shoulder, smiling at us.

  We worked our way slowly back the same route we'd been walking, treading softly, quietly and trying to keep in the shadows. I strained to keep the same pace as Frank, because at times he'd stop suddenly and stare off into the woods. In his camo, he almost turned into a bush when he did this, and only when he started moving again was I able to make out his vague outline even though he was only twenty feet in front of me.

  It was almost luck when I spotted a fluttering orange ribbon tied at eyes level on an evergreen and I stopped, whistling softly for my father in law. He made his way backwards, keeping his eyes forward until he was side by side with me, his AK swinging back and forth to cover a large area. Frank looked at the marker and motioned for me to stand still. He started working in a circle, first at ten feet, moved it out to twenty, and when I almost couldn't see him anymore, he was almost through another circuit when he waved his hand for me to follow.

  I moved on and found Frank at the next marker and again we repeated the exercise until we found the third marker, and Sarah. What I saw before me made me swallow down vomit before I could lose my breakfast. Amongst the trees, standing in their own piles of snow at the base, four figures were tied to the boughs, being devoured by two of the infected, the bodies already as dead as the zombies by the looks of things.

  Frank motioned for me to crouch down, and I did. Then Sarah pantomimed using her bow to draw the string back, and then pointed to Frank and one of the figures. He nodded and she made the motion again, pointing to herself and the other infected. They both locked eyes and nodded, getting arrows ready.

  They released at the same instant and the two infected twitched, one of them dropping moments later, the other turning to scream incoherently. It had long black scraggly hair, its clothing the most noticeable thing marking it as one of the infected. December is a cold month at the cabin, and warm days were barely at the freezing point. This one had tattered and gore stained blue jeans, a white wife beater that was filthy beyond measure and an arrow angling down through both sides of his jaw. Sarah had botched her shot.

  I winced at the scream, bringing the .44 up in a smooth motion. The infected had spun and started running faster than I thought would have been possible in the snow. Sarah and Frank were scrambling to knock arrows, but I judged they'd be too late. I pulled the hammer back with my thumb, took careful aim and blew out my breath slowly, gently pulling the trigger like I'd been taught.

  The cannon went off, almost hitting me in the head as I hadn't been expecting the recoil to pull that much, and the zombie's face and skull evaporated into a red mist which hung in the air. Its body continued forward for another two running steps before falling right at my feet and I realized that I still could hear the echo of the gunshot, the still silence now shattered.

  “Oh shit,” Frank said looking around, scanning the trees for more figures. He put the arrow back into the quiver and hung his bow across one shoulder, pulling his AK free.

  Sarah had mimicked his movements, her rifle scanning side to side and she walked closer to the figures tied to the trees, their heavy coats torn open or pulled to the side. She hissed in either surprise or disgust and called to us softly. The bodies couldn't have been up there long; there was no obvious decomposition, but it was cold, and the bodies were horribly mangled by the infected's teeth and nails. The last body in the group looked the freshest, its coat opened and shirt torn off. I saw two breasts, one half gnawed off by the infected Frank had took down and I felt sickened. I tried to look everywhere but the corpse’s chest, and that's when I noticed the bloody line across its neck.

  “Frank, her throat has been cut,” I whispered.

  “These two girls too,” Frank said.

  “This last one's throat is cut, but I can't tell if it's a guy or a girl,” Sarah whispered, the horror she felt evident in her voice.

  I tried to put the pieces together. These four were wearing winter gear and didn't have any tell tale signs of being infected. In fact, they were dead and not even undead. It didn't make any sense.

  “Oh my god, look at this,” Frank said, both Sarah and I coming closer to the body to see his find.

  In her right fist was a chunk of wavy brown hair. I felt my stomach drop and I looked up at Sarah, wondering if she thought the same thing I did. She met my gaze and nodded, her expression stricken.

  “Frank, that looks like Claire's...”

  “We need to go. That .44 made the forest shake.” Frank said, pulling the hairs loose, his gun back at the ready position.

  “OK Dad, want me on point?” Sarah asked.

  “No, I'm on point. You two keep your ears peeled. If there's any infected around, they'll have heard that shot and be on their way soon.”

  I felt horrible for breaking the silence with the gun, and decided to top off the chamber, pocketing the empty shell casing before rolling the cylinder closed with a quiet snick. Sarah looked at me sharply, and I just shrugged. I had no other weapon, and they weren't ready to stop the charge. We’d survived; I just hoped that we'd figure out what was going on and what Claire was doing.

  I don't know what the point of killing them and roping the bodies to trees was, but I knew it didn't bode well and Claire was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

  Chapter 17 – Confrontation

  December 21st, 2015 Twilight

  The trudge back to the cabin was horrible. My shoulders were slumped in defeat, and I had no clue how to even approach the problem. Sarah was pale, and she kept stealing glances my way, probably expecting me to burst into tears or scream in terror. I couldn't read her expression, but I knew she was probably thinking the same thing, except she was waiting for an opening to insult me some more. Frank on the other hand, walked with a slow and determined purpose.

  When the cabin was in sight, he let out a low whistle, almost sounding like a hoot owl, and it was returned immediately. Walking into the open area of the driveway, we were met by Katherine, her gun raised until she could make out our features, her facial expression relaxing from the scowl it was a moment ago.

  “Where are Claire and the boy?
” Frank asked her abruptly, his voice barely carrying over the short distance away.

  “Inside, why? Sarah, are you OK? Where were you, why did you...?”

  Frank hushed her with a finger to his lip in what was a universal gesture. Sarah and I walked forward to stand at Frank's side, and Katherine took in our expressions, knowing something bad was happening.

  “Mom, when we go in, don't put your guns away,” Sarah told her.

  “What is going on?”

  “It's bad, hun, it's really bad. It's something to do with Claire. We can't talk out here though, she might overhear us and I don't want her to get away or hurt the boy...” Frank said softly, his voice the same quiet tone he used before.

  “Mom, it's bad. We all need to go in, and just believe us,” I told Katherine, not knowing how the night was going to end.

  “Alright, but you guys are scaring me.”

  “Good, then you'll be ready for anything,” Frank said, striding to the door and opening it.

  Trying to act like nothing is wrong was a lot harder than it sounded to me, and we rarely carried our guns around the cabin with us, though it wasn't totally unheard of. They had almost become a habit over the past month, almost as much as using the bows whenever possible. After shucking out of our winter gear, we headed to the dining table, where Claire was sitting in the corner, her own pistol sitting in arms reach, Justin beside her. They were each reading a book, and her smile lit up when she saw us coming.

  “Could this all be a mistake?” I thought to myself.

  “Claire, we found the dead in the woods, tied to the tree.” Sarah said bluntly, plopping down in the chair across from her, as the rest of us took seats, effectively blocking the mother and son team in the corner.

  Claire winced, her jaw dropping open.

  “So it was you?” Frank said, putting what he had cupped in his hand on the table, flicking his fingers from his palm slightly. Long wavy brown hairs fell and shined dully in the lamp light.