by Brown, TW
I headed for the picnic grounds. I’d let Melissa follow if she wanted. One thing I didn’t have time for now was a bunch of petty crap. I didn’t slow down until I reached the picnic grounds. I wasn’t surprised that the only person to follow me was Dr. Zahn; and she was several paces behind.
I smelled it before I saw it.
Stepping out of the shadows cast by all the trees and headed straight for me was a zombie. A fresh one.
“Oh, Chloe,” I gasped. The woman had been bitten…torn apart by who knows how many of those cursed things. Her throat was a mangled mess and one leg had been gnawed extensively from knee to hip. She was stark naked, her already pale skin taking an obscene blue-gray hue. She was slumped over where most of her midsection had been ripped open and scooped out. This was definitely the work of more than one of the cursed creatures. But if that were the case—
“Steve!” Dr. Zahn’s voice was sharp. I turned to find three more coming out of the brush to my left and six more from the right.
My hand went to my holster. “Shit!” I swore. I’d taken my pistol out of my holster when Melissa snuggled in and set it on the mounted bird feeder attached to one of the pillars on the front porch. Gads, I must be more tired than I realized. Rule one in the new world: never go anyplace without your weapon.
“Hey, Francis?” I called. “You wanna go ask the others to hurry. Oh…and could you grab my pistol from the porch? It’s on top of the bird feeder.”
“But—”
“Just go!” I barked. “These things are still slow and clumsy. It looks worse than it is.”
With that, I darted towards a cluster of three picnic tables. Lying on the ground was a nice-sized branch about as big around as my wrist and twice as long as my arm. I couldn’t bring myself to beat Chloe down. She deserved better…something much quicker and cleaner than having her skull crushed with a tree branch. Instead, I set out for the one with the fresh blood smears on its face. That would be one of Chloe’s killers.
It came at me in typical fashion: arms out in that stereotypical zombie-imitating-Frankenstein’s monster pose; mouth open wide, exhaling that putrid, rotten meat and fecal slurry stench. This one was a crier. That eerie sound never failed to make the hairs on my arms and back of my neck stand up.
“A little closer, you bitch,” I snarled through clenched teeth. I’d made the transition into being totally pissed off. I was sad and mourned the loss of Randi Jenkins, but if I was totally honest with myself, there was a small part of me thankful that I wouldn’t have to see the incrimination in her eyes everyday over the loss of her husband.
It was my mission that resulted in his death. I’d sent him out with two people who had no business being in close proximity to one another. If anybody was supposed to go out on that mission with those two, it should’ve been me. I put her husband in a dangerous situation. Well, to be fair, there is no such thing as a safe situation these days; but this situation was worse than normal. Also, my conscience—that same conscience that convinced me I did the right thing when I killed Dave Ellis that night—was telling me that she was better off now that she was reunited with her daughter and husband in Heaven. Problem was, I didn’t totally believe in Heaven…or God. I let all that flash through my mind in a matter of a few seconds. I wasn’t going to get into the inner debate on the existence of Heaven, Hell, God, or Satan. Not right this moment any way.
I knew in some dormant and probably dying portion of my brain that this creature wasn’t really at fault for Chloe’s death. No more so than a shark is at fault for biting a swimmer splashing around in its territory. Still, I swung my branch with all the fury of a steroid-infused ball player. The limb shattered, my hands went numb, and the length of my arms felt as if they were being dipped in a pool of hot electricity. The zombie spun and hit the ground.
Then, it got back up.
Dammit!
I jumped off the table I’d chosen to make my stand on and drove the jagged end into one of the creature’s milky-white eyeballs. There was the slightest resistance…then…schlock! The sound and feeling of plunging through the orbital socket and into the brain was sweet. Putting one booted foot on its face, I pulled the half a branch that remained, free from the downed corpse.
A cold, dead hand pawed at my arm. I spun away, bringing my lame excuse for a weapon up to bat the hand away. On the follow-through, I came up under the chin. That was a mistake. The branch became lodged in place.
I had nothing to fight the zombies off with now as the creature toppled to the ground, snatching my weapon from my still slightly numb hands. The branch was actually flush against the body from where it stuck out below the chin. I could see wood filling its mouth behind partially barred teeth. It is weird, the things you fixate on in a crisis.
“Hey!” a voice yelled. Several of the zombies turned on Jon, Billy, and Aaron; my rescuers.
Chloe still had a lingering crush. At least that was what my mind told me as she continued towards me, oblivious of the new arrivals. My plan was to jump up on to the picnic table and off to the other side. From there, avoiding her outstretched hands would be a breeze. Had my left foot landed on the bench-seat, it would have gone flawlessly. Instead, it slid awkwardly between the bench-seat and the table. My body turned and fell the wrong way. That’s when I heard that awful snap.
I screamed. Then…nothing.
***
“Hey there, graceful,” an angelic voice whispered in my ear.
My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and my mouth felt like sandpaper was wrapped around my tongue. Great, I’m—
“…a zombie?” I rasped.
“What?” a strangely familiar voice asked.
“Am I a zombie?
“No, Steve,” the familiar-but-stern voice scoffed, “zombies don’t talk.”
“Although they do moan and cry a lot,” a male voice I know that I should remember chuckled.
I opened my eyes to the bright glare from the sun that poured through a nearby open window. Melissa was sitting beside me holding my hand. Dr. Zahn was in a rocking chair jotting things in a notebook. She looked tired. Sergeant Saunders…Jon…was in the doorway wearing a freaking arsenal.
“What in the hell happened?” I said, wondering who had used my mouth for a toilet then filled it with the kitty litter that, according to how my throat felt, I had obviously swallowed.
“Lots.” Melissa’s eyes brimmed over with tears.
Crap, I thought, I’ve been bitten and they are waiting for me to turn. The last thing that I remembered was—
“Chloe!”
“She’s dead…for good,” Dr. Zahn said with more than a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Did she…?” I couldn’t bring myself to actually ask.
“No,” Melissa answered with a laugh that was also partially a sob.
“Billy put her down quick,” Jon offered.
“Okay, you guys all have the same expression.” I looked around the room. Each time my eyes met somebody’s, they turned away. “Thalia!” I tried to sit up and felt dual sledgehammers pound their way out of my skull through my temples.
“She’s fine, Emily’s fine.” Melissa placed her hands firmly on my chest and pushed me flat, not that it took much effort. “Teresa is fine.”
“Then what the hell?” I really wanted to raise my voice, but it felt like talking was only a shade less painful than letting somebody take a Garden Weasel to my throat.
“Not right this moment,” Dr. Zahn got up and walked over to the bed. And since when did I have a bed in the middle of the Visitor’s Center main foyer? I mean, why not just put me on the front porch.
“Doc…” I shook my head and tried to swallow.
“Give him some water, Melissa,” Dr. Zahn said.
“No, dammit!” I made a feeble attempt at shoving the water glass away. “What happened?”
“Somebody led a fairly large herd here,” Melissa said, glancing back at Dr. Zahn who already had her lips pressed so tig
htly together that they were nothing more than a pencil line across her face.
“What?” I was stunned at this possible turn of events. “How do we know that? How can we be certain somebody did such a thing intentionally?”
“We’re pretty sure,” Jon said, his expression grim.
“What else?” I demanded, accepting the glass of water Melissa still held out for me.
“We lost a few people.” Jon glanced at Dr. Zahn who finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “First…you owe your life to Jamie. He’s the one who tackled that girl Chloe as she was about to take a bite out of your face. He saved your ass, Steve. It was him and that boy Billy that carried you out of danger. Aaron…well…he went down covering your rescue.”
I felt a coldness fill me from head to toe. That was one of the last things that I expected. It didn’t seem possible. I’d watched that young man go from frightened boy to fierce fighter in the past several weeks.
“We came on the run when Doc told us you were engaging several zoms, including one of our own who appeared to have been recently turned. Then the screams started back at the house. Jamie, Billy, and Aaron had a handle on the picnic grounds and waved me off to help at the house.” Jon paused for a moment, something passing over his face. He was feeling guilt over Aaron if I read him right. Eventually, he continued, “When I got there, they were pouring out of the trees, coming up the road, and across the field. There were well over a hundred. I divided my men amongst your people and we engaged.”
“Who else,” I whispered. I could tell from his tone and expression that it hadn’t gone well.
“Paul, George, Molly…” Melissa paused, “…and Curtis.”
“The guy immune to the bite?” I gasped.
“Apparently he and Molly had grown close, when she went down, he dove off the berm into a crowd of them…they tore him apart.”
“We now know that even if you display immunity, but die later, you will return as one of them,” Dr. Zahn cut in.
“Have you told him?” a voice from just outside the door called. The door opened and in walked Sunshine. She looked at least ten years older. Chloe’s death obviously hit her hard. “Did they tell you?” Her eyes were red, puffy, and raw looking.
“Did they tell me what?” I glanced around the room. Jesus, there was more?
“You haven’t told him who did this?” Sunshine glared at everybody in the room, her look one of absolute poison. “Or why? You haven’t told him what Chloe saw? You didn’t tell him what that animal did to her?”
Now I was beyond confused. I saw Jon scowl, his dark look becoming blacker. Melissa wouldn’t meet my gaze, and even Dr. Zahn was fidgeting. “So…who did this?”
“Jason,” Jon spat.
“What?” That didn’t make any sense. He’d been instrumental in saving me. Why would he risk his ass for that, then turn around and start killing folks and top it off by leading a herd into our camp?
“Chloe saw him sneak out,” Jon said. “She thought something was strange because he had a bunch of gear strapped on. She went to follow him and see what he was up to, but woke Sunshine first just so she wouldn’t worry. Best we can tell, he caught her and tied her to a tree. We discovered evidence of that at one of the sites, and Dr. Zahn confirmed it with her autopsy before we disposed of the body.
“He cut the word ‘nigger’ in Jillian’s back!” Sunshine blurted.
Then it all came crashing down on me. All those confrontations between Jason and Lee had nothing to do with what a pain in the ass Lee could actually be. Jason provoked the man mercilessly. Being out on a scavenger run would be the best place to do away with somebody.
“But he was gone when Randi was killed,” I said, having a hard time digesting this newest bombshell.
“Jamie said that Jason suggested they split up. He said it would be the best way that they could watch over you in case something happened. Plus, he wouldn’t need any help. They were apart for four days; plenty of time to get in and out of here; then make it back down to where you were holed up. Nobody thought of anything…especially after he saved your ass with that hydroplane stunt. Hell, he was a hero,” Jon finished.
“But…?” I was so confused.
“I went through his stuff; the stuff he left behind when he took off.” Melissa squeezed my hand. “There were a few things in a Ziploc bag in the bottom of his sleeping bag, Aryan Brotherhood stuff. Even an ID card with his picture. Ian’s pretty upset. He said he should’ve recognized the tattoo.” Melissa suddenly shook her head and made a face. “Hey! Did you know that Ian did time in prison?”
“So where is Jason?” I asked the obvious question.
“Gone,” Jon snarled. “But my boys Sanchez and Beebe are looking for him.”
“Next question.” I glanced at Dr. Zahn. “What in the hell is this?” I tapped the cast on my left leg that went all the way from my upper thigh to my foot.
“You suffered a compound fracture of the tibia and a single break of the fibula,” Dr. Zahn explained. “Mister Saunders and Jamie made a run back to what was left of Serenity Base.”
“For what?”
“Medical supplies,” she said with a shrug. “I had little hope that any of the narcotics would survive the looting. However, I felt that there were a few things that might still remain if people didn’t know where to look. My hunch proved correct.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I had to perform surgery on your leg, Steve.”
“What?”
“I had to affix two plates to ensure that you had the chance to walk again at some point in your life.” Dr. Zahn said all of this in much the same way I might tell somebody it was going to rain tomorrow.
“That’s why you’re out here,” Melissa explained. “It was the only place with enough light and enough room for Dr. Zahn to operate short of taking you outside.”
“We were fortunate,” Dr. Zahn continued as if Melissa weren’t even there, “Mister Saunders took it upon himself to venture into La Grande. He hit a veterinary clinic and returned with a hefty supply of ether. That is the good news.”
“Which means that there is bad news,” I prompted.
“Yes…well,” Dr. Zahn was suddenly uncharacteristically uncomfortable. This had to be bad. “You have practically exhausted our entire supply of pain medication.”
“Meaning?”
“You have endured a hideous injury and a tough surgical procedure.” Dr. Zahn stood, brushed herself off, and came to the side of my bed. “You have a lengthy healing process ahead of you that might take months. And then there is the physical rehab. The pain will be epic.”
“Don’t sugar coat it, Doc.” I tried to laugh.
“That’s why we kept you unconscious as long as I deemed safe.” Dr. Zahn glanced around the room, her look chastising everybody for allowing this conversation to take place.
“Wait.” I looked at all the faces, none of which would return my questioning glance. “How long have I been out?”
“Three weeks,” Melissa said.
6
Vignettes XIV
Garrett wedged the pry-bar into the doorjamb and leaned into it. The sound of wood splintering seemed like an explosion to his noise-sensitive hearing. The world had become such a silent place that everything seemed much louder than he remembered.
A musty smell rolled out with the heat that had been pent up inside the modest house. Well, modest by the standards of the one he lived in now. There was no telltale stench of the undead to give him any reason for concern.
He’d had to travel almost a mile to find this place. So many of those things had gathered outside the walls of his home that he couldn’t even get to the other nearby houses on the street that ran along the front where the main entry gate was located. Any attempt would not end well. He would be trapped and cut off from The Toy, and he couldn’t have that.
He’d seen enough to know that if he wanted to search for food—or booze for that matter, they’d run out of beer two
days ago and he’d finished his last bottle of vodka this morning—he would need to search for locations farther away from home to be safest. Climbing over fences and creeping through back yards was a lot of work, but he’d eaten the last of the canned food this morning. Canned beets. His mouth made an involuntary grimace at the thought.
Stepping into the house, he looked around cautiously. Even though he couldn’t smell anything, he still worried that somehow one of those abominations would be lurking in the shadows. As he neared the kitchen, he could definitely smell the stench of spoiled food. Also, he could hear the all-too-common buzzing of the swarms of flies that were no doubt becoming one of the most plentiful creatures on the planet.
When he peeked his head into the kitchen, his eyes were drawn to the stain on the floor in front of the refrigerator. It had long since dried, but the flies still swarmed that, along with the defunct, yellow appliance.
Garrett knew better than to open it and went over to the cupboards. He found plates, glasses, and finally, food. He scooped packages of Ramen noodles, macaroni and cheese—the good stuff in the blue box—and Hamburger Helper into his pack. Next were the soups, canned fruits and vegetables. Afterwards, he found the pantry closet. He spied something that made him grin and was sure to put it in the bag last of all.
Finished, he wandered through the empty house looking for liquor. In the living room, in a fancy cabinet that fit neatly in one corner, he discovered a few bottles containing names he’d never heard of before. Some were names he couldn’t even pronounce, and after giving them a sniff, he tossed them aside. One smelled like candy, another like licorice. Garrett wanted good old fashioned—
“Patron?” he mumbled and picked up the bottle. “Tequila, now that’s more like it. Don’t know why folks can’t just be happy with some José Quervo. I guess this’ll have to do.” Garrett unstoppered the bottle and took a drink. He gave the bottle an appraising glance. The stuff was actually quite good.
He went to the bedrooms and bathrooms next. He didn’t find anything except for a toothbrush that was still in its package and a half a tube of toothpaste. He added that to the pump dispenser of soap he’d found earlier. The Toy was starting to smell almost too rank to touch. This would help.
