by Brown, TW
“Had nineteen of us then,” another man spoke up, stepping beside the speaker. I could see a definite resemblance.
“How many of those things are on your tail now?” Barry asked. “How many did you lead here?”
I heard a few murmurs from my people. The newcomers shifted around nervously. I saw weapons of all sorts hanging off these people. I didn’t particularly want to get into a shoot-out first thing in the morning.
“We’ve been moving through the woods,” the first man spoke. “Last thing we wanted to do was bring those things to where we were hoping to make a new home.”
“That’s not really answering the question,” Barry pressed.
“Alright,” I raised my hands, “let’s not get into a big debate over—”
“This isn’t a debate,” Barry interrupted. “I’m asking if these people brought a bunch of zombies with them. You should be wondering that too if you’re so intent on keeping Thalia safe.”
“No!” The first man snapped. “We didn’t bring any with us. We’ve been in the woods the past several hours.”
“Then where’d your injuries come from?” Jamie asked.
Cripes! I thought, when did he show up? “I thought you were on watch this morning?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Ian took my spot. He said he wanted to get right into the rotation.” Jamie moved to stand by Teresa.
“We don’t want any trouble,” the injured woman spoke. I turned to face her and felt my chest tighten.
Her eyes.
“And before you ask to stay, you should know that we have a policy about people who’re infected.” I couldn’t take my eyes off hers. The blackness seemed to be intensifying in them as I spoke.
“Policy?” the one that looked related to the man in the sling said with a nervous caution in his voice.
“He kills ‘em.”
Oh good, I thought, Lee’s awake.
Nervous murmurs rippled through the newcomers. I saw both the woman with the nasty gash on her arm and the black-tracer ridden eyes, and the man with the bandaged hand, shrink back into their crowd.
“Shot one a his own just the other day.” Lee walked down and into the midst of the group. “Right up behind him, and shot him in the head. No warning. Just…POW!” He made a gun with his finger and thumb, ‘firing’ it for emphasis.
“Lee,” Melissa walked down, casting me a glance that I couldn’t decipher, “Steve did what he had to. He kept Jack from having to go through the pain,”
“Yeah?” Lee challenged. “Well fuck that. I get bit, I wants me a choice.”
“You shot Jack?” Sunshine gasped.
When the hell did everybody show up?
“He was bitten…because of Lee,” Melissa said angrily.
“Enough!” I yelled. “We can get into this later. Right now, we need to deal with these folks and figure out what everybody’s gonna do.”
“My people would like to stay here,” the man with the sling announced. The one next to him—I was betting the brother
—started to say something, but was cut off. “And I can understand wanting to protect yours. The three of us will leave.”
There was some protesting among the man’s group, especially from the one I figured for his brother. Eventually though, it was decided.
“If you’ll take ‘em in, I’d like my group to stay…join up with yours. I’ll take these two with me,” the man said.
“They’re welcome to stay,” I nodded. “By the way, my name is Steve. Steve Hobart.”
“Funny,” the man chuckled.
“What’s that?”
“Mine, too,” the man said with a smile, extending his good hand. “Stephen Johnson…with a ph. The hot-head is my older brother, Jason. He’ll be okay, just leave him be a few days. But if you give him a chance, he’s a helluva shot, a hard worker, and a bit inventive. It was his alarm system that woke us that day and allowed us to escape before they got too thick.”
“Melissa, Teresa, Aaron,” I called, “show these folks inside. Help ‘em get settled. Let ‘em pick out a place, but then we got work to do. The trench won’t dig itself. Plus, we need to decide who will make the next supply run.”
“Aren’t we going to discuss what exactly happened to Jack?” Sunshine asked angrily.
“Right this moment?” I turned to face her. “No.”
“Ain’t this some shit,” Lee said sarcastically.
“You want to leave with these three?” I challenged. “Let me make this clear.” I stepped up on the porch so I could see everybody. “This is a very limited democracy. That means I’ll leave certain things to the group, but some decisions will be mine alone. My priority is to take care of Thalia and Emily. To that end, I will do whatever it takes to ensure their safety to the best of my ability. None of you are required to stay here. But…if you do, you’ll work, you’ll contribute, and you stay with the understanding that if you are bitten…I will be the one to put you down. If you have a problem with any of that…you can leave. Now.”
Silence.
I scanned everybody. I saw the nods of support and approval from Barry, Randi, Teresa…all my original group. Sunshine and Chloe were communicating through sign, but once they were done, Chloe turned to me and nodded. Sunshine gave me a long stare, but she didn’t look like she’d be leaving. Fiona and her group clustered together, and I could see Lee gesturing wildly, but in the end, she turned and nodded. That left Stephen and his newcomers.
They were whispering quietly, amongst themselves. I saw a show of hands, but didn’t know what they were voting on. Finally, Jason turned.
“We’ll stay. My brother, Annie, and Greg will leave.” Stephen nudged his brother. “But my little brother wants a brief, private meeting between him and you.”
“Done.” I nodded.
I stepped down and motioned for Stephen to follow me. I walked to the picnic area and sat down at a table. The other man sat across from me. I was a bit sad that the man couldn’t join us. He was about my height, five-nine-ish, but easily two-fifty. His arms were huge, and he looked like he could bench press a Volkswagen.
“If I tell you which direction we’re gonna go, where we’ll be headed…will you follow us?”
“Why?”
“Put us down.”
“What?”
“Listen,” the man put up his hands, gesturing for me to calm down, “those things…I’ve been payin’ attention. Sometimes, they do stuff. I can’t really explain it good, but my worry is that when I die and turn, I’ll come back here. And I might have a bunch with me.”
“You think those things communicate?” I asked.
“I don’t know about that, but if I turn and head back here, no tellin’ how many will follow.”
“How long do you reckon ya got until you turn?” I asked.
“I’d be surprised if we made it to nightfall.”
“Listen, Mister Johnson—”
“You can call me, Stephen, I think since I’m asking you to kill me and two friends that we can be on a first-name basis with one another.”
“But why?”
“I don’t want to be one of…those things. And, I don’t want to bring a mob of ‘em back here, ruinin’ your set-up,” Stephen explained. “Also, I don’t want Jason to see you put a bullet in my head. No matter the reason…it’ll never settle right with him. You got your hands full enough with that Lee character. Difference between him and my brother, Jason isn’t just a buncha talk. He gets hot and it’ll turn to bullets.”
“You ain’t exactly inspiring me to keep him around,” I said.
“Right now…he sees that he owes you.” Stephen folded his big hands on the table. I looked him in the eyes and was struck by something.
No black tracers.
His eyes were dark brown. The whites were clear of any sign of the infection, unlike the woman. I guess it’s like any other illness. Some go down quicker than others. I wondered if his being so big, and obviously in shape, had anything to do
with his slower rate of deterioration.
“Owes me for what?” I asked, forcing myself back to the conversation.
“Takin’ our folks in like you are,” Stephen explained. “Jason used to run with a bit of a gang. He still holds some of their ideas in his head. Mostly about loyalty and stuff.”
“Again,” I shook my head, “not really inspiring me with the whole letting-him-stay plan.”
“I’m being honest with you.”
“Which is great, but telling me that your brother is a hot-headed gang-banger—”
“Former gang member,” Stephen corrected me. “Look, you and I know that there is strength in numbers. And believe it or not we’re a lot alike. We both got people we need to take care of. And we’ll do whatever it takes to see it through. I’m asking you to follow me out and put me down so I don’t endanger your people.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself once you’ve gotten away from here?”
“Truth?”
“You’ve been free with it up to now. No sense stopping.”
“The girl that’s hurt…Annie…she’s our sister. If it was just me and Greg, I wouldn’t blink,” the man’s voice had quieted to a whisper, “but I already had to put my folks down…and a son…and a wife. I can’t do it again. And if I just off myself, I know me…I’ll tell myself that I can beat it all the way to the point where I turn.”
I considered his answer. There wasn’t anything he said that I couldn’t totally understand. I nodded my head.
“One last favor,” he said, bringing his eyes up and locking on mine.
“Why not?” I shrugged.
“Do Annie first.” He placed a gun on the table. It had a silencer! Well, that took care of my last concern, which was how far the sounds of gunfire carried these days.
We shook hands.
***
I saw them up ahead, sitting on a downed log. Their backs were to me. Stephen was handing a water bottle to Annie. Both she and Greg looked horrible. Even from here I could see the sickly hue of their skin. But Stephen still looked fine.
Taking a look around, I smiled. He’d led his group to a small clearing by a stream. I could walk almost all the way up to them and remain hidden. That stream would allow me to move without worrying about every single noise. Plus, Stephen was talking…although I doubt those two were hearing much. They both looked completely out of it.
About ten feet away, I stopped. Pulling the gun he’d given me, I habitually checked the safety. I lined up on the back of the woman’s head—there was no way I could miss from here—took a deep breath, held it for a second, then, after a slow exhale, I fired. Let me just say that ‘silencer’ is a misnomer. She slumped forward and collapsed. Greg fell over to his side, out of surprise I imagine, but he could barely move. I got up and before he could manage to put words to the pleading I saw in his eyes—full of black tendrils confirming his infection—I fired again.
All that remained was Stephen. He sat silently on the log, just watching. I saw a tear in his eye as it welled up past the point of containment and trickled down his cheek.
“Steve,” he said to me calmly in greeting with a nod.
“Steve,” I echoed. By the shakiness in my voice, you’d think I was the one facing execution.
“I appreciate it,” the larger man said.
“Mind if I ask you one question?” I said hesitantly.
“Go ahead.”
“What’s it feel like?”
“That’s the bitch of it,” he sighed. “I guess in the end you feel like you’re burning up. But just now, other than the pain in my arm where the chunk of meat is missing…I feel fine.”
“Okay,” I said. This was the hard part. “Close your eyes and count back from five.”
“Just one last thing,” the man said, eyes already closed.
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome.”
“Five…four…three…t—”
BLAM.
I tossed the gun aside and headed back to camp. The hour journey out took almost twice that coming back. The sun was on its way down past its midday apex. I reached the outer-most campsite and sat on a pine-needle strewn picnic table for a bit. If killing Jack was difficult, this was eating me from the inside out more so than any zombie.
My throat tightened for the zillionth time at the image of that man sitting with his eyes closed, totally at peace, waiting for the executioner’s bullet. In just a few days, I’d shot and killed four living, breathing persons. I tried to remind myself why. I tried to remember that night in camp…Thalia’s scream…but it didn’t help.
No, I insisted, it has to be done. I was responsible for not only Thalia and Emily, but…in a way…each of those people. They relied on me to make the tough decisions that nobody wanted to make. Of everybody, I think Dr. Zahn is the only one who really understands.
“Man up,” I said out loud, like hearing the words would help. I took a few deep breaths to ensure I’d either suppressed everything, or pushed it out of my system. Walking down the overgrown, but still easily followable ‘road’ that wound through the twenty-four campsites—each nothing more than a fire pit, picnic table, and post with a water spigot and power outlet—I felt the tension and pain condense to a nicely manageable ball that I could stuff into a dark corner of my mind.
I reached the edge of the clearing and froze. Four people were on their knees, hands behind their heads in the middle of the softball field. Aaron, Billy, and Randi had them at gun point. I spotted Teresa up at the house, standing in front of the door; no doubt keeping Thalia and Emily inside. Barry was up in the watch tower. Everybody else was standing in or near the trench.
As I crossed the ball field, Dr. Zahn came down the hill, cutting me off or wanting to fill me in as I went to see what exactly was happening. I noticed Jason and one of the women from his group coming out of the woods opposite from where I’d come. They were carrying weapons in hand.
What the hell had happened?
“Steve?” Dr. Zahn actually started to jog. Now I knew something was up.
I kept walking, allowing her to intercept me as I crossed the entry road that divided the softball field from the big expanse of open grass. The whole place had a vibe to it that was more than just a little unsettling. It was made just a bit worse by all the unfamiliar faces looking at me like I was Moses coming down from The Mount with the two tablets. Didn’t they know that I didn’t have all the answers? I was flying blind by the seat of my pants. Not much more reliable than a Magic 8 Ball.
“What’s up, Doc?” Did I just say that? Only, Dr. Zahn didn’t react.
“You need to come look at this,” she said sternly.
“What?” I asked, as she fell in beside me, leading me to the four individuals kneeling in the grass at gunpoint.
“Just come.”
Fine. I walked across the suddenly much larger seeming field. I became aware with each step that all eyes were on me. Even Lee? And he was…smirking? We reached the cluster and four sets of frightened eyes looked up at me.
“You,” Dr. Zahn walked up to a man about my age, “show him your arm.”
The man glanced at his friends who all shrugged or nodded nervously. He unbuttoned the long-sleeved cuff and pulled it up revealing a forearm. I moved closer, a loud pounding ring gaining force in my head.
The arm was mostly unremarkable. It’s only really outstanding quality was the huge bite. Or, rather, the huge mostly-healed bite. There was no mistaking what it was. But a bite turns victims within seventy-two hours. This one—
“How long ago?” I forced myself to ask.
“Just over four weeks,” the man said quietly, obviously afraid.
Impossible.
16
Vignettes XII
Shaw tossed the towel on the floor. Standing naked in his room, he let the warm breeze from the open window wash over his body. He felt pleasantly tired. In his mind, he could hear still the muffled sobs of that bitch, Se
nator Angela Bergman. I’ll bet she never imagined days like this when she was struttin’ around D.C. or drivin’ this country into the ground while standing in front of walls of cameras and lyin’ to honest, hard-workin’, God-fearin’ Americans, Shaw thought. The things he’d done to her were down right satisfying, but the things he’d made her do to herself…
A knock at the door shattered the images playing in his head. Grabbing a pair of shorts, Shaw stepped into them and stormed to the door, yanking it open angrily. “What!” he barked.
“You been outside recently?” TJ asked with a tone in his voice that immediately put Shaw on edge: fear. A half-dozen men stood in the hall as well, all of them looking more than a little nervous.
“No.” Shaw folded his arms across his chest, assuming his most authoritative pose. It looked like his men needed their leader at the moment.
“You should come with us,” TJ said. “My room’s on the south side, you can see from there.”
“See what?” Whatever TJ was up to, Shaw didn’t like it.
“Just come,” TJ said impatiently. With that, he turned around and walked away. The other men looked around nervously between their leader and the man stalking angrily down the hall. One by one, they peeled away and took off after TJ.
“Dammit,” Shaw cursed. He grabbed the pair of pants hanging over the foot of his bed, pulled them on, and took off down the hallway. He’d deal with TJ’s insubordinate attitude later. None of the men told Charlton Shaw what to do.
He reached the man’s room. The door was already open, and murmuring trickled out into the strangely empty corridor. Shaw entered to find at least twenty men standing at the two windows; the ones in back up on their tip-toes, craning to see over those in front. Shaw reached the rear of the group and began shouldering his way to the front. Several men resisted him until they turned to see who exactly was pushing through. Then, of course, they hastily moved out of the way.
At last, he reached where TJ stood staring outside. “What’s this all about, TJ?” Shaw asked, but as soon as he looked outside, he knew.
“Holy shit!” he breathed.
“All of that little town…Heath…it must all be burning,” TJ said.
