by Brown, TW
“Sure, but some of it will still build up in the room,” Jody answered. “We don’t want to end up suffocating or being overcome by smoke inhalation.”
“I’ll rig the line,” Danny offered as he slipped out the door.
Jody began gathering books and creating a pile. He had a good sized stack, and was about to light it when Selina grabbed his hand. She reached down and plucked a ragged paperback from the pile.
“Wuthering Heights,” she said with a wistful sigh. “I loved this book when I was in Honors English my junior year in high school.”
“I was a fan of Tom Jones,” Jody said as he started the blaze.
“The singer?” Selina asked with a giggle.
“No…it is an old English comedy,” Jody said with the first thing close to a laugh that she’d heard from him since they left Bald Knob. “In fact, if you read it, you will see the genesis of probably three-fourths of the sitcoms ever written.”
“Huh.” Selina sat down and flipped through the pages of the book.
“I’m gonna go out for wood as soon as Danny gets back,” Jody said peeking out the door. “I saw a stack of pallets over by that knocked over school bus. Those should be well seasoned and burn nice.”
“Do you need any help?” Selina asked.
“You could come hold the door,” Jody said with a nod. “If I am on the run from anything, I don’t want to worry about setting things down and opening the door.”
She hopped back up to her feet and followed. Jody gave Danny a brief explanation in a loud whisper before heading back down the corridor. Just before they reached the door, Jody froze and raised his hand to signal a stop. Selina didn’t need to be told; she could smell it.
Pulling his blade, Jody put his hand on the knob. Selina drew hers and took a few steps back. She had learned from a few of their incursions into abandoned homes that it was always best to give each other room. When you are swinging a blade at something that is trying to eat you, there isn’t a lot of time to make sure you have enough space between you and your fellow travellers.
Cracking the door just a bit, Jody peeked out. The stairwell was empty. He pulled the door open and crept out. Step by step, he climbed until he could see over the lip and out into the parking lot. A few feet away, a handful of zombies were crouched on the ground. From this close, he could hear the smacking of mouths and the wet rip of pieces being torn away. What puzzled him was the fact that he hadn’t heard anything.
A rock bounced near his head causing Danny to flinch and duck down. His heart felt like it was going to come through his chest. He glanced back at Selina with a scowl.
“What?” she mouthed silently.
“The rock?” he mouthed back. She shrugged.
Danny crept back up and looked again. His eyes scanned the lot more carefully, looking for anything that might be out of place. There! Up on top of a school bus a small figure sat hunched over but waving one hand.
Creeping back down to Selina, he whispered in her ear, “There is somebody up on a school bus across the parking lot. It looks like a kid. I’m gonna take out the few in the parking lot and then haul ass back with what I think is just one person. Have the door open.”
He didn’t wait for confirmation. He’d already wasted enough time. The zombies would be finished with the poor individual that they were snacking on very soon…if they weren’t already. He reached the top of the steps and was only momentarily upset to find out that he would now be facing six zombies instead of five. The group was already wandering off and the person on the ground—a young boy in his early teens by the looks—was trying unsuccessfully to stand. It seemed that there was too much damage to the left leg for it to bear any weight.
Jody came in low under the first zombie and brought his blade up under its chin. He shoved it back and it hadn’t even hit the ground when he swung with a backhand, catching the next closest threat in the forehead. He knew well enough not to bother with that weapon any more for the moment and drew his Ka-Bar. A stab into the eye took the next closest.
A hand clutched at his sleeve and he quickly shoved off and brought the weapon around and drove it into the temple. The fifth one was a few steps away and Jody moved in with a strike to the forehead. He let his arm relax as the zombie slumped to the ground. This time, he put one foot on a shoulder and yanked the knife free.
He turned around just in time to see the figure from the bus crouching over its undead former companion. A hand ax came out from the thick coat the person was wearing and smashed into the face of the most recent addition to the zombie population.
“C’mon,” Jody hissed, “we need to get out from the open.”
The person ignored him, pulling the ax loose, but continuing to squat down over the body. Jody moved closer, but stayed beyond what he guessed to be a few feet past arm’s reach.
“Hey, you in the coat?”
Still no acknowledgement, but the person did stand up. It was a girl. She turned to face Jody, tears running down her face.
“I know you’re upset, but we need to duck out of sight for a bit. Down those stairs.” He pointed and took a few steps. The girl did not budge. She glanced at the stairs, and then returned her gaze to Jody. There was something in her eyes.
“You don’t trust me?” Jody sighed. “Look, I get it. There has been some crazy shit going on, but you threw the rock at me to get my attention.” She seemed to consider his statement. “My name is Jody—”
“And my name is Selina.”
Jody jumped and spun around with his arm half-cocked. He only took a fraction of a second to appreciate that she had wisely stayed out of range before the anger at being surprised resumed control.
“What have I—” he started.
“She’s mute,” Selina cut him off and moved past Jody to the girl. Jody turned to see the newcomer nodding vigorously.
“How could you tell?” Jody was perplexed.
“She put her hand over her mouth and shook her head,” Selina said over her shoulder.
It took a few moments for them to get inside and for her to get out a dog-eared notebook full of scribbles, but eventually Jody, Selina, and Danny were introduced to Katherine Yares.
***
Slider kept to the shadows. He had been having no trouble following the trio as they travelled north. It wasn’t like they seemed to be trying to hide. Then, shortly after they reached the outskirts of a town called Newport, he lost them.
It had been almost two weeks since they’d left Bald Knob to its fate. Once or twice, he had considered making his presence known to the trio. He didn’t think that he would be welcome just yet. Besides, he was somewhat curious to see how that kid Jody handled himself.
Now that he was no longer working under the command of the captain—an idiot with an over-inflated view of his abilities in Slider’s personal opinion—he was no longer bound to carry out the last orders he’d been given: Kill Sergeant Rafe.
Despite his ability to become detached in the field, Charles “Slider” Monterro was no monster. He did not take joy in killing. It was simply his job. Nothing more. Nothing less. He’d been aware that Rafe and his buddy with the thick New Englander accent were devising something involving the women. He was a little surprised when the young man departed Bald Knob with just one.
So, Slider had followed. Always keeping his distance. He’d been almost certain on more than one occasion that they would fall prey to the walking dead. Once, he’d even moved close enough, prepared to come in at the last second and save the day. In Slider’s mind, that was the only way he would be ingratiated to the group.
He was just about to give up. After almost two hours, he was willing to move on. It would have been nice to fall in with a group; he held no illusions about the likelihood of survival if a person were to remain on their own. It was not a matter of if, but when. He was preparing to climb over a fence that enclosed a golf course when he saw two small figures dart across the road about a half of a mile ahead.
&n
bsp; Sticking close to the fence, he started to move after them. He had a difficult time figuring out how two youngsters could be out by themselves with conditions being what they were. A moment later, three men emerged from some sort of shack that he was almost directly across from. One of them was limping and they were whispering angrily back and forth to one another.
“…told you to tie that one up before fucking her,” one of the men hissed.
Slider didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. He didn’t care what else was said. He now had a purpose. He tried not to laugh at his inner-monolog…the one that had insisted that he didn’t kill out of pleasure. He was about to enjoy what he did.
Taking the crossbow from his back, he quickly dropped a bolt into place and brought it to his shoulder. He gauged the distance and figured that he would have two shots before these goons were on him. He chose one without a limp, aimed, and fired.
The first shot caught the man in the center of the chest. No need for a head shot here…center mass would be just fine. He dropped the crossbow, jammed his toe into the metal hoop, caught the drawstring with his two handles and pulled to cock the weapon. He looked up as the surviving goons were charging his way. His training was serving him well as he blocked out everything except the task, preventing the rush of adrenaline from causing him to make foolish mistakes.
He brought the weapon to his shoulder, sighted, and fired. The second man dropped, the look of surprise almost comical on his face as he ended up on his knees staring down at the feathered shaft jutting from the middle of his chest.
Slider had no time to admire his work. He drew his knife just as the man with the limp skidded to a stop about ten feet away. He threw his hands up in the air in surrender.
“I d-d-don’t want no p-p-problems, f-fella,” he stammered.
“Those kids,” Slider growled.
“What? Them muties? You want ‘em…hell, have ‘em both,” the man couldn’t get the words out quick enough. “If that was all this was about…well we could have worked somethin’ out, man. No need for violence. In fact, we got other stuff to trade as well…food…even a knife bigger than that ‘un.” The man pointed to the Ka-Bar in Slider’s hand.
“Run,” Slider whispered.
“Huh?” The man appeared to be confused by the word.
“I said run,” Slider repeated. He slid the knife back into its sheath.
Apparently the man mistook the intention. “You want me to hurry and go get what we got for trade?”
Charles “Slider” Monterro walked up to the stranger. He brought up his right hand and the man reached out to accept what he assumed was a proffered handshake. Like a snake, Slider grabbed the extended hand, used it to whip the man around, and grabbed under the chin with his left hand while cupping the back of the man’s head with his right. In a single action, he jerked hard. The satisfying crack sent a shiver down Slider’s spine.
Yes indeed, he thought as he began up the road after the two small figures he’d seen run away, sometimes it was actually enjoyable killing another man.
15
Tough Choices
Dr. Zahn’s voice would make an excellent alarm clock. It has that certain quality to it that makes you want to smash the button and shut it off…for good. I’m not proud of the fact that this was my first thought as I opened my eyes.
“…can’t simply expect him to do everything when it comes to the dirty work.” The doctor was ripping somebody a new one by the sounds of it.
“I’m not saying that,” a voice responded defensively. It took me a second to place it: Nickie Bailey. Of all the residents, she was the only one with that peculiar Southern accent. I say peculiar because this is the Pacific Northwest. While some folks may adopt a lazy form of speech, hers was definitely a real, honest-to-goodness Southern drawl. I keep meaning to ask her about it, but I’ll be damned if things don’t keep cropping up.
“I think it is best if Sunshine makes her concoction and then we administer it when the child is on the verge. Ease her into it if we can.”
That made me sit up. They were discussing Emily. I already had my mind made up. I would be the one to take care of her in the end.
“And that is fine,” Nickie countered. “However, Jesus has said that he would step in and take care of her after. Steve has enough to deal with…why should he have to be the one to put that little girl down for good?”
“Because she is my responsibility,” I said, causing both of them to jump.
“Steve, I am sorry if we woke you,” Nickie sputtered. “We were actually outside when this conversation began. I guess we just lost track of where we were and how much volume we were using.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a wave of my hand. “But as for Emily…I will be the one to deal with her in the end.”
“Steve—” Dr. Zahn started, but I didn’t want to hear it.
“That’s not open for discussion.”
“Oh good…you’re up.” Melissa pushed into the open room past the two women who were still giving each other the evil eye. “The newcomers are starting to come around and we have a problem.”
“Never a shortage,” I huffed. “Now if you all don’t mind, I would like to change into some clean clothes before I go out there.”
For some strange reason, all three of them looked at each other, and then at me like I’d sprouted an extra appendage somewhere in the middle of my forehead. Fine, I thought. I dropped my pants and hooked my thumbs in the band of my underwear. When I looked back up, Nickie was gone. Well, so much for that.
“Doc…do you mind?”
“Oh, sorry,” she said with a slight shake of her head. Obviously she had gone on to other things in her mind and could care less if I were about to drop trow.
“I guess now is as good of a time as any to ask,” Melissa began with just a trace of hesitation in her voice.
“Sure,” I shrugged, “why not.”
I pulled on a clean set of boxer-briefs and sighed as they almost slipped back off. Who needed fancy pills or expensive gym memberships? I hadn’t been exactly fat before all of this, but on those rare occasions when I would work out with a few buddies and we got around to doing sit ups or whatever the latest thing one of them had read about in some fitness magazine, the rally cry would go up. “Time to do abs!”
“You mean ab,” I always corrected them. I had a very well-defined one pack. It sorta looked like the hood of a VW Bug.
Now, I could actually see three of the mythological—to me at least—six-pack. Why is it that I could see the top two and the second one down on the left side? Weird.
Anyways, I would need a smaller size next time we sought out those sorts of supplies. I pulled on some pants and fastened my belt, realizing for the first time that I was now three notches past the original ones.
“…ever you did has not only got that child all stirred up, but also that other guy, Potter or Palmer or whatever his name is,” Melissa was saying.
Oops, I guess I was distracted. Still, I think I was catching the gist of what she was saying.
“I was the one who put down her mother and a few others,” I explained. “I guess they have been shielding the kids from what is going on. She thinks I was actually killing people.”
“That’s terrible,” Melissa sighed.
“I know,” I agreed. “I mean, how long did they think they could keep that up?”
“No,” Melissa scolded, “I mean how could you kill the zombies, especially her mother, right in front of her, Steve?”
What?
“That had to be very traumatic. No wonder the little girl is terrified of you.”
“It wasn’t like I was the only one,” I snapped. Why in the heck did I have to defend myself? She should know damn good and well what it is like out there. We never shielded Thalia or Emily. In fact, she was one of the big proponents for getting the girls exposed to more of what went on. “Jon was in the barn taking them out, too.”
“I bet he
was inside and out of sight of that poor little girl.”
Honestly, the way everything was starting to blur together, I couldn’t really remember. What I did remember, and it came to me in a bolt that made the hair on my arms and on the back of my neck stand up, was the reaction of that one child-zombie that had seemed to observe us from a distance.
“Well, Misty seems to only remember what you did,” Melissa insisted. “And that man keeps breaking into hysterics, saying that you went crazy and just started chopping people up and bashing their heads in.”
“Is that right?” Now I was a little annoyed. Not with the child. Actually, her being the way she was had everything to do with how the adults around her had acted. What I wasn’t going to do is let some stranger come in here and start painting me as a blood-thirsty lunatic.
I headed out to the lobby area. Luck was with me as everybody—except those on watch—was sitting down to eat. The newbies, or at least the ones that were mobile enough to come out and sit or slump at the table, were present. I did a scan of the faces and realized that, other than Mr. Patton and little Misty, only two others from the group we’d rescued were present. I would worry about names later.
“So…I guess we need to have a group meeting,” I announced. Most of my “old” group simply glanced up from their plates. However, it was the reaction from the newcomers that got my irritation meter slamming into the stops. You would have thought, based solely on their faces, that a herd of zombies just walked through the door…led by Satan.
“W-w-we don’t want any trouble,” the man, Mr. Patton, stammered.
“Well that’s really the issue, isn’t it?” I snapped. “We plucked your people—the ones still alive—from a bad situation that was only going to get worse.”
“You killed—” Patton started, but I cut him off.
“You were eating each other,” I snapped. “You had almost nothing left as far as supplies go. We found you and made not one, but two trips to gather you up and bring the ones here that we could try to save. Now obviously many of you were too far gone. And I am really sorry that so many of you died even after we brought you here, but I am not a monster. I put down those of you already dead who had come back as zombies.”
