Flirting With Death: Surviving The Infected

by Boyd Craven III

They explained what happened, with Claire's heartfelt confession and Justin forgiving her. They had no indication that he was going to leave with his mother, but it had happened. They both heard it when they told them where Bobby had a spare set of keys hidden, and they promised to check in on them in the spring.

  “Do you think she'll hurt Justin?” I asked them once we'd eaten and they'd filled us in.

  “No, she might have murdered those people but...”

  “But what?” I asked.

  “I think it's more likely that she'll kill herself, not her son.” Katherine said softly.

  “In any case, it's ten miles away. On foot, she'd have to travel two days to get here in this snow. I don't see that happening.”

  “Not at least until the spring time. We'll worry about that when it's time.” Katherine said, and Sarah and I nodded.

  “Now, we've got two days to Christmas Eve, who wants to help decorate?” Frank asked, his eyes lighting up.

  “Uh, decorate?” I asked stupidly.

  “No lights, of course, but we have tinsel and ornaments, and we have to cut a tree in two days!”

  One thing I learned early on while I was dating Janie, is their family wouldn't put the tree up until the last minute. Something of an old school tradition their family had; instead, they would make homemade decorations, and write poems or something in preparation for Christmas Eve. It was a day of decorating, feasting and family time. The first time I experienced it, I was blown away and flat worn out by the experience.

  “There's some good Christmas trees on the edge of the Ash thicket where I was getting the firewood.”

  “Good, then you can do the honors this year.” Frank said smacking me on the shoulder, then looking to my wrist.

  “No blood.” I showed him.

  “You make him take his morning pill?” Katherine asked her daughter.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, now that he's on his feet he can keep track of it,” she said slapping a baggie of pills into my hand. I absently put them in my pocket, making a mental note to take one around lunch time.

  “Sarah, want to help me get the decorations out of the first shed?” Frank asked his daughter.

  I was left to do the dishes after our burgers were finished. Everyone agreed that I'd have to cook those again, this time on Christmas Eve. I kind of felt good about that, but we had two turkeys that we'd smoked and stashed in the shed in a cheesecloth that we'd also saved for the occasion. It wouldn't bother me too much though; I kind of liked how it turned out, even though the events of the previous few days had left my head spinning.

  The cabin had a sudden sense of urgency and, even though we'd had dark days, we had a cause to celebrate. We threw ourselves into the work, unpacking old ornaments to hang around the cabin, on tinsel and beaded ropes. Katherine baked an assortment of breads and rolls, each more mouthwatering - judging by the smell - than the previous, and soon we had a mountain of food.

  I had the patties made on the morning of Christmas, and was ready to put them on the griddle when Frank called me over.

  “This year, you have the honor,” he told me, handing me an axe.

  It was the same one I'd used countless times to drop trees, and I'd become quite good with it. I put the patties in the fridge and headed to the door, grabbing the keys almost as an afterthought and pocketing them. Within minutes, we were all dressed and ready to go out. I was worried about sweating in the bulky clothing; the temperatures had dropped down to dangerous levels in the -20s the night before, but once the sun was up, the temperature had risen to almost above freezing.

  It wasn't a long walk, but it was a beautiful morning. Sparkles of light glistened off the icicles as we exited the cabin. The sun glistened off the shiny mounds of snow and ice, and the glare in the trees was the light reflecting off the mirrored glass of the frozen lake. I'd had a couple days’ notice, and had mentally picked a tree out, smiling when my memory matched reality. The Andersens surrounded the tree and I pulled a bough up, considering the trunk a moment when it was time to do the deed. Wordlessly, I swung; great chips started flying by the third impact of the sharp axe head. Once I figured I had one good whack left, I paused and caught my breath a moment.

  “What are you waiting for?” Katherine asked, the cold bringing rosy red spots to her cheeks.

  “I give you the Griswold family Christmas tree!” I said, swinging one last time, laughing as the tree fell.

  “He understands!” Sarah shouted despite herself, and launched herself into my arms, kissing me deeply.

  “What the hell, it's Christmas,” I thought to myself and kissed her back hard, giving my emotions free reign.

  Frank cleared his throat loudly and I could hear clapping and broke the kiss to see Katherine putting her hands together quickly.

  “The shitter's full,” Frank muttered, and we all broke out laughing. I handed over the axe, figuring on cutting the bottom of the trunk flush with the bow saw, and started dragging what had to be an eight foot tall Christmas tree to the cabin.

  It wasn't long before we had the tree lugged into the cabin, everyone quoting snatches of the favorite movie. I was ready to saw the base flat to put into the tree holder when Sarah got an odd look on her face.

  “Dad, is that a flare?” she asked, squinting outside the front window.

  “Uh... Oh... Oh shit. Katherine!” he yelled, running to the bedroom, the safe open within seconds.

  He handed out guns, ignoring our surprised and shocked faces, and nodded his head out the front window. Coming out of the woods and breaking into a run seemed to be close to three dozen of the infected.

  “Drop the shutters,” Frank yelled to Sarah, “and start loading magazines!” he shouted to me.

  Katherine joined him at the door, her own AK in her hands, looking wild like a Valkyrie as she started shooting, hot brass bouncing off the door, waking me from my stupor. I got the bag of empty mags and a handful of boxes of shells and started thumbing them in with shaking hands when Frank started firing as well.

  “Mag?” Katherine yelled as her bolt latched open.

  I’d only managed to get the one in my hands two-thirds full. “It's a short one,” I told her and started on a new one as she tossed me the spent one from her gun. Sarah joined me and we got two clips ready when Frank burped the last of his ammo out and called for another.

  “They're getting too close, Dad!”

  “We can't stay in here. There's still too many.”

  “Shut the door, Frank.” Katherine shouted.

  “Jim, get Sarah and Katherine out of here. We’re going to be overrun any moment!” Frank screamed at me from the northern window, and his rifle continued to boom loud in the confines of the small cabin.

  Chapter 20 – Present Day, Now Happening In Real Time.

  December 24th – Present moment

  *******************

  “Oh shit,” Frank said from the floor, slowly coming to his feet.

  “Oh, Daddy, you’re safe,” Sarah gushed.

  “No, none of us are,” Frank said, looking at his ankle. Teeth marks in the denim and bloody mouth prints marked the material.

  “Oh no,” Katherine said, sinking to the ground, her face turning as white as a sheet.

  ********************

  “Oh shit,” I mumbled, remembering the bag I'd shoved in my pocket. I held up the bag of Cipro. “Frank, here.” I said shoving the bag of pills into his hands.

  “What is it?”

  “Cipro.”

  “But you need these.”

  “It never broke the skin. Take one right now. Right the fuck now.” I told him, my voice clearly panicked.

  “Take two.” Katherine said as she pulled the sock back, the flesh around the bite inflamed, blood running much too freely.

  “Jim, get Mom the first aid kit over there on the shelf, it's got gloves. “Mom, wait for the gloves,” Sarah scolded.

  I got to my feet, my breath finally filling my lungs. For the first
time, I looked around the 'root cellar'. It was nothing like I expected. The walls were made of concrete, and along one wall were three sets of bunks, and the opposite had a counter top, sink, cook top and propane bottles. The rest of the wall had steel shelving that held more boxes and white buckets like the first shed did. It wasn't a cellar, it was a bunker!

  I found the first aid box, it was blue with a red cross on it, and I took it back to Katherine as quickly as I could. I watched as Frank dry swallowed two of the pills and lay out on the floor, trying to hold still, but he was starting to sweat, tremors taking over his body. I remember him telling me once that Cipro seemed to work if taken immediately after being bitten; was a minute or two too late? I hoped not, I wasn't going to splatter him down here while we were trapped.

  Then Katherine did something that I’d never forget for all of my days. She gloved up and used a scalpel to make an X shaped cut, squeezing as much blood out as she could. I almost gagged, used to seeing doctors trying to stop bleeding, not promote it. She then dashed the open wound with rubbing alcohol, causing Frank to scream loudly, his muscles straining with pain. I couldn’t watch any more.

  In a panic, I started exploring, trying to look at the pained expressions the girls were giving each other, trying not to meet Frank’s gaze as he silently screamed in pain. At the end of the bunks, across from the cook top was a door. I opened it and found myself inside a small bathroom, with toilet, sink and shower stall. I was trying to figure out where the pitcher pump was to run this when Sarah shouted.

  “What is it?” I asked her, running up.

  “Shots, I hear somebody shooting up there.”

  I got close to the hatch and listened. I could hear a buzzing sound, almost like a weed whacker, but from a distance. Then the unmistakable booms of a shotgun close by. I almost stumbled backwards when the gun went off again, almost right over the hatch.

  “Shit! Some body’s out there, Frank!” I yelled, before turning and remembering that he was down.

  “Katherine, somebody is out there...”

  BOOM, the gun went off again and the buzzing noise started up again, this time loud, more like a big chainsaw.

  “Somebody coming to help?”

  “Probably whoever led the zombies to us. Anybody want to guess who that was?” Sarah asked, her expression grim.

  “Look, Frank!” Katherine pleaded, and I looked to Frank. The sweating had abated, the tremors stopped. He smiled and pulled his leg to his stomach, looking at the ankle.

  “I don't think the Cipro is supposed to work this fast!” he said smiling.

  “It doesn't.” Katherine said, turning her face away before any of us could tell what she was thinking.

  “But I feel better. Maybe it'll be OK?” he asked hopefully.

  “You'll be fine, Frank,” I told him walking towards the middle of the bunker, listening for the sound.

  I returned to the hatch, where I could hear better after a few moments. The buzzing sounds were coming and going, and we could hear the random boom or whip crack of guns going off over-head.

  “What do you think is happening up there?” Sarah asked me.

  “Sounds like chainsaws and guns. I hope somebody didn't go all video game style up there. We can't wade through blood like that...”

  “Those aren't chainsaws. I'll bet you anything they are snowmobiles.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right. It does sort of sound like that.”

  “Dumb-ass, city slicker,” she said, smiling.

  “When will we know it's safe?” I asked Frank and Katherine.

  “In a minute. I'll show you. Let me get my feet under me,” he replied.

  Katherine helped him to his feet, and we went towards the bathroom. In what I assumed were pipes that brought water in, Frank turned one and I saw the gray of the sky above. He turned it and with a start, I realized it was a crude, but effective periscope. It must be connected to the pipes outside the second shed.

  “Do all these look outside?” I asked him, but he shook his head.

  “The others are vents. This is the one by the pallets. If we didn't block the view by tipping the pallets... Here, look.”

  I looked through it and immediately saw a flash of movement, followed by a very faint sound of what sounded like a chainsaw. The movement was red, and I had no clue what I was looking at until a dead head moved out of my sight line. There were two red quads, and they were riding in rough circles, occasionally firing at the zombies. The first glimpse I got was a quad running close, trying to get the Z's into a circle. I watched for minutes until one of the quads broke off and drove to the hatch. A heavily padded figure took out a hammer and started banging on the door.

  “Who is it?” Katherine screamed from the other room.

  “I can't tell.”

  “Justin!” Sarah screamed, hearing his voice from the other side.

  “Get the keys!” Frank yelled.

  I was still watching things above, and there was a large group of Z's chasing the second quad; the figure had long flowing brown hair and I realized it was Claire. She had drawn the group off, but was making circles and figure 8s through the trees, to buy Justin some time.

  “You coming in?” Frank yelled, getting the lock free and opening the hatch.

  “No, I came to rescue you guys. My mom has them on the run, she said to take you to Bobby's cabin. It's better stocked. Hurry, please?” he pleaded.

  Frank looked at me. I knew what he was thinking though, grab the kid, lock the hatch and wait. Knowing him like I did, he probably had more food down here in those buckets, and we could probably last for quite a while before we'd have to come out. The kid would hate it, but it was his mother up there, and it wasn't part of his plan. The kid would fight, tooth and nail, I was sure.

  “Kid, why don't you come down here with us?”

  “My mom is just making a diversion. You guys have to hurry, she can't keep going in circles forever. You need to kill the infected people so they don't kill her!” he pleaded.

  “I thought we were supposed to go to Bobby's cabin?” I asked him, pulling myself through the hatch.

  “Look!” he pointed.

  My heart almost stopped. We started the day with what I had thought was almost three dozen zombies, but the numbers now numbered twice that, if not more. The first wave was probably dead, or reinforced by others to now number almost one hundred. They were almost tripping over themselves to get to Claire, who was now laughing wildly, the color in her cheeks making her look jolly on Christmas Eve.

  “Oh God, there's more. Frank, Uh... We can't sit down here. There's too many.”

  Everyone else pulled themselves out of the hatch one by one and crouched by the stack of pallets, the quad now silent as we watched.

  “We have to kill them now, or kill them later.” Frank said, wincing as he put weight on his ankle.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “OK, everyone reload with what you have. It looks like she’s moving towards the lake. We can setup an ambush spot if we follow the driveway to the trail. As she breaks free of the woods, we can shoot the infected as they break out of the trees. We'll have the advantage of high ground, so remember to correct your aim before pulling the trigger. Everybody ready?”

  My head swam; Frank had just pulled a plan out of his butt like he was on the TV Series A-Team. I just hoped that if he was going to be Hannibal, I would be knocked down to Murdoch. Shit!

  We rushed into position and, when Claire broke cover, the swarm was almost upon her. Her quad was now sputtering, losing speed and I feared she was running out of gas. When the Z's broke cover, Justin opened up with his shotgun, and the rest of us followed suit, shooting as many and as fast as we could. In a last desperate gamble, Claire ran the quad out onto the dock, and jumped the end, landing on the ice. She had made it to the center of the lake with the remaining hoard following her, at almost touching distance, when the ice let loose.

  “Noooooooooooooooo,”
Justin yelled as the hole opened up, swallowing everything in a large area.

  “Oh no, honey,” Katherine said, pulling the boy close, hugging him tight as he buried his eyes in her coat, screaming.

  “Keep your eyes peeled, Sarah,” Frank said, changing magazines.

  “Scanning.”

  “Dad, what the hell?” I asked him, motioning to the large wet spot in the lake.

  “You remember that spot of ice I kept telling Justin to stay away from? The clear ice?”

  “Yeah,” I said, starting to understand what was coming next.

  “There's a warm spring under there. The ice isn't very thick and the weight of the quad plus all those people...”

  “Oh no.”

  “I don't have any rope or ladders that'd reach that far. We can always hope that Justin's mom...”

  “Did she know about the rotten ice?”

  “She must have, she’d warned Justin away from it.”

  “Do you think she…?”

  “Let it go, son.”

  We waited. Part of it was waiting for a hand to appear at the edge of the hole, but none did, the other part of it was seeing if the coast was clear before we headed back. To see if any of the infected had gotten trapped in the house, in the bunker. It was the longest walk I'd ever had, and Justin's cries and sobs felt like knives in my heart.

  We found the cabin deserted, and Sarah and I dragged the bodies off the porch, through the maze of firewood. Thank God for that; if we hadn't done that and kept it up, we would have been over-run before we ever had a chance. Now, it was a pain in the ass.

  “Over here,” she said, indicating across the road, where she'd dumped them before.

  “Merry Christmas,” I said forlornly.

  “It'll be OK. In the end.”

  That night, the wind howled and a storm covered the world in white twinkling ice that made everything shine, before the temperatures dropped into the sub zero ranges again.

  Epilogue -

  Winter turned into spring. We spent the remaining part of the winter splitting our time between the cabin and the bunker. Often enough, Sarah and I would escape for a couple of days at a time down there to be alone, together. We’d developed an easy-going relationship, having buried our guilt, and we never knew what the next day would bring.