by catt dahman
Rae and Big Bill stepped out and looked over the group.
They made crude pallets on the floor, and all around them were boxes of the remains of food and water. The empty cans of spaghetti looked unappetizing.
The man introduced himself and his son, a woman and a man to one side, a man who sat alone, and a man who was huddled in blankets.
Alex, Misty, Nick, and Pat looked around; everything was clear. Len asked them to stand guard as the civilians started packing things into the big trucks for transport.
Pat was a newcomer to the team, having once served his country, so he easily fell into the team routine. Nick, brother to the President of the United States, might have been snobbish but was as down-to-earth as anyone and eager to follow orders and help out. This was a good team.
“I’ll take care of the mailboxes.” Misty laughed, knowing Beth wanted them. Having heard that Earl said Mark was alive, she turned from sullen and sad to glowing and happy again, just waiting for her man to return to them. Mark was ten years her senior at twenty-six, but this was one of the rare, real, young romances that many admired.
“What’s wrong with him?” Len pointed to the man in the blankets.
“He is a curious thing; we kind of assumed he was infected, but then, he wasn’t wounded; we checked for wounds; they’re easy to see once the infection fills the wound, as you know.”
“May I?” Len asked. The man motioned him to feel free.
“We heard the shot; was that Mary? I mean the woman in a dress?”
“Yes. I guess she was with you?”
“Yes,” the teen seemed inclined to talk. “She was fine; we were looking for this safe place that some of us kind of dreamed about or maybe just hoped for, but she was okay; all of us were when we came here last night.”
Exhausted, they let their guard down just a little, and the one zed in the entire giant warehouse grabbed her and nipped her arm before one of the men shot him in the head, blowing brains all over a battery display. The tiny nip of a bite barely broke the skin. She said it was sore but showed no real symptoms until this morning when she spiked a high fever, her arm swelled with pus, and she looked bruised, black and blue up her arm, under her neck, and across her chest.
The teen, Tristan, told them, “Mary was going, we knew it, but she had a few hours left.Yes, I’m sure of that because Bob and the rest rescued me from a nutty would-be doctor although I think he was a video rental clerk before the Red came along. I was his unwilling assistant and probably next in line to be tested if he hadn’t found another victim.” Tristan saw the shocked looks.
“She attacked us…came at us, Len said”
The man, Bob said, “Oh, she wasn’t fully turned, but she might have been overly excited. She was looking for gum. She hadn’t gone over yet.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I didn’t see anything to show me she wasn’t infected; I thought she was a zed.”
Bob waved Len’s concerns away, “No doubt. I would have done the same, and it had to be done anyway soon, better you than one of us who knew her. Makes it easier on us though I regret you had to take the action.”
“You’re Tristan’s dad? And you rescued him?”
“Adopted Dad,” Tristan said, “the end of the world may have sucked for everyone else, and for a while, it did for me with Dr. Death and his exploits.”
“Yes, exploits is a good word choice,” Bob said.
“But,” Tristan went on, “I was a bad kid, always in trouble and pretty much ignored in school as being too stupid.As fate would have it, Bob found me and taught me about guns and how to read. I mean, really I read better than my ‘See Spot Run’ style before.He’s teaching me to speak better, not like a street thug.”
Rev nodded. This was one of the strangest situations they had ever come across.
Bob patted Tristan on his back with pride.
“I’ll look forward to your story of this Dr. Death,” Rev said.
“And this guy Jerry, he wasn’t bitten that you know of?” Len asked.
“No. I can’t see how he was; he would have been hurting; the bites I have seen are bitchin’ painful, very painful.”
“I think ‘bitchin’’ is apt,” Bob said, “but he would have been in pain….”
“A scratch…something...maybe something very tiny, but I’m sure you searched just like I did. There’s nothing it could be, even if tiny, swollen, and filled with pus. But he stinks of infection. He reeks, and it’s unmistakable,” Len said.
“We noticed.”
“We were about to put him down actually but wondered what in the hell happened to him,” Bob said.
“Look, he’s got to be put down, now. I wanna know what the hell is up with him; he’s infected, no doubt, and we can’t risk our safety or yours.”
“As you wish. Poor sod. It’s past time for him; he hasn’t been awake in over an hour,” Bob said.
The other two men and the woman got up and walked to the side, leaving Len to his job. Using a pillow, he pulled his sidearm and shot twice into the head of the unconscious man.
“Clear,” he called out of habit. Yanking gloves from the first aid kit, Len distastefully began to use the small scissors to cut away Jerry’s pants. “Holy shit. Get me a bandana and the Vicks,” he cried out, eyes watering.
The stench was worse, filling the area with a rotten reek mixture of decomposition, ammonia, rotten meat and fish, and vomit with a dash of something peppery; once someone smelled the mixture, he would never forgot it, as it was so unique and terrible.
Rev did the honors, smearing Vicks under Len’s nose and then tying a bandana around Len’s nose and mouth; Rev gagged with the stench. Hating the job, he tied a bandana around his own face after applying Vicks under his nose and skinned on gloves to help Len, pulling back the unyielding cloth. Len finished at the waistband and peeled back the stiff, matted jeans.
The man had no underwear on.
Len made a sound like “Graakkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.” As he crab walked backwards as fast as he could, he almost knocked over Rev. To all sides, people lurched over to vomit, heaving, looking back again, and puking more until their stomachs were empty.
“Bleach my eyes,” Rae said, gagging, “please, bleach away that sight.”
Jerry’s situation was horrible if not somewhat curious to see. Around the groin was shiny, swollen flesh, turned black and blue. It resembled what the bubonic plague caused.
There was some blood, but the man’s green and black mottled penis was split in two halves from acute swelling and was covered thickly with stinky, greenish-yellow pus that still seeped. The infection was not in a bite per se but was developed inside the man’s penis, swelling, and finally bursting with unclean fluids.
“I thought he wasn’t bitten?” Rae muttered.
“He wasn’t.”
“What did he do last night? Details?” Len asked, sinking onto the floor, unable to stop staring at the disgusting injury.
“We ate. We went to bed and slept. It was a quiet night, and I slept like a rock,” Bob said.
“They were rockin’ it last night; I mean, I don’t know how to say it right: Bob, she gave him head.”
“Oral sex,” Bob said.
“Right. She gave him oral sex before they slept. I sleep lightly since Dr. Death,” Tristan said.
“And that explains it. She had Red, and her teeth scraped his dick, and he got infected,” Len said.
Everyone, especially the men, cringed. This gave new meaning to a sexually transmitted disease.
“I’m kind of sorry I have this curious side of me,” Len said. He knew that Doc would be fascinated by this and wished he could see the man.
Rev explained to the group about their compound: how they worked, what jobs they did, how they ran the compound, and about the quarantine. Without concerns, they wanted to join.
Bob was an engineer and was already scribbling onto a notepad. “You can use gutters maybe and piping for water irrigation, maybe those showers,
” Bob said. He agreed to add ideas for them as they gathered supplies.
“I have a panel truck for some of the stuff…be a little easier,” said one of the men, who came with them to help. “Misty says we are ready to get the big stuff.” He paused, turning pale as he looked at Jerry’s wound.
Len covered Jerry. He told them to get their things and move away from that area. The six fell into the work routine easily. They all felt better as long as they avoided thinking of Jerry and his burst penis.
At a late lunch, the team pulled out food from their backpacks, making the new people stare with surprise. With clean air, appetites returned. The team offered to share their corned beef hash with potatoes and onions, seasoned green beans, a fresh tomato salad with lettuce, banana peppers, and black olives, and thick chunks of chocolate cake.
“This tastes fresh.”
“Some of it is; we are beginning to grow vegetables and some fruit, and we have a displaced chef and some good cooks; in fact, this is a pretty simple meal. We also have dishes such as gumbo and chicken spaghetti.
This winter we will be eating collard greens, pinto beans, fat back, and hot water cornbread so we can have soul food.Breakfast is unbelievable: fresh eggs for omelets.”
They worked off every calorie ingested, loading the trucks. A few stray zeds appeared but were easily shot.A question of where they were swarming and why was on everyone’s mind.
“I won’t say this will top Beth’s haul, but we have a lot of great stuff,” Misty said, “This haul could take forever to unload.”
Rev groaned. “I think unloading is always slower, too. We’ll have a ton of help though.”
“And we do have new people; they all seem good.” Misty turned to Len. “Do they still need the isolation? I mean, we did check them, too.”
Len could see there would be a time soon when he was going to have to share the information they kept about the treatment. “Yeh, Maybe so. I think it’s best.”
He questioned them, and he felt sure that all were okay except for Tristan who said he was with Dr. Death a while; that sent up a few red flags. How could he isolate one and not all of them? Maybe it would work itself out.
“Got it, Boss.”
“We’re ready, Len; it’s late,” Rae said.
Len looked over the area once more, wondering where all the zeds were gathering; it bothered him not knowing. The zeds could group and come in a horde with no warning, moving with a single purpose: to eat flesh.
He wanted to be a simple person, not the man leading against an army of violent idiots and a mass of hungry zombies, which would be his luck.
Len climbed into the truck with a last look behind.
Where were the zombies?
17
Kim, Andie, and Mark
Half of the RA moved closer to its enemy, as defined by Lucas and Pascal, and was now stationed at Hope, Arkansas, with many camping at the State Line. Kim listened to them talking. His worst fear was one of those animals getting his hands on Beth, Katie, or the other woman.
So far, the army whored, trained, tortured people for entertainment, raided, raped, slaved, and ran wild; Kim had yet to see one thing redeemable about any of them.
Bonfire runs, fights to the death, and watching slaves battle zombies were common, but watching Lucas and the child Pascal cheer was the worst part; luckily, they showed up only once, preferring the safety of Hot Springs.
Kim never felt such intense hatred.
Cole, Lee, and Mike were the three who kept Kim and his friends as slaves, and now they celebrated the capture of a new woman named Connie.
Since she was pretty with somewhat clean blondish hair and a trim figure, Connie was useful for several chores and entertainments, but the three men couldn’t have any more than their own three slaves, so it was a good bet that one of their slaves would be traded or killed.
Disposable slaves.
Kim sat by himself, his back against a tree. When the whip marks itched and burned the most and when the pressure of the infection was too much, he ground his back against the bark, almost bringing himself to tears when the scabs broke and the pus poured out.
Yet, it was a relief after a few minutes when Kim could again stand his own flesh. His thigh wound was something he could reach, and he periodically scraped at it to release the pus. His pants were stiff with the fluid, and he had a high fever.
Connie was handcuffed and chained beside them. She struggled against her bonds. “ Damnit.”
“Shhh. Keep your voice down,” Mark said.
“How do we get out of this? Let me go, damnit.”
“Don’t you think we’ve wondered? Stop talking so loud,” Mark warned her. “Do you want them to notice us? You’re not getting out of those cuffs and chains, trust me.”
“The three are getting drunk,” Connie said shrilly, “we can get out of this. Scoot over here, and help me.”
“If you keep raising your voice, I’m going to snap your neck,” Kim said without emotion. His eyes, dead and without expression, said he meant it.
“I saw you at the hospital. I ran away from there though; I didn’t want stay,” Connie said in a whisper to Mark, a little skittish about angering Kim.
“Then you’re dumb. You were safer there with them,” Andie hissed. “Why’d you leave the safety? I would give anything to be back there with everyone and safe…clean….”
“All the good side and bad side talk; I really didn’t want to hear who was good and who was evil and all that bullshit.”
Andie chuckled against her arm silently, “Well, you don’t want to talk or hear about it, but, girl, you found the devil now for sure. Wait ‘til you meet Lucas and Pascal; you’ll know what evil feels like then, and you’ll miss the other side.”
“They don’t want me except for screwing, but I bet if I shared with them who you are, I might make a few points with them.” Connie sneered, plainly furious about what Andie said.
“Open your mouth, make a move, and see if I don’t snap your neck,” Kim said again, dully.
“They’ll kill you for that.”
“And?” Kim sat and stared at Connie, listening to the men close by as they got louder with their drinking; parts of the over-all camp seemed to be having a party, periodically firing guns into the sky and yelling as they got drunker.
“Kim, you keep hanging on,” Andie said. “We need you. Ignore this trash.”
“I intend to live,” Connie said.
“Sure, ‘cause you just got here and you think you can escape; you still have hope. But wait a few days ’til they’ve raped you so much it hurts to walk and you’re filthy and hungry, and they give you your scraps of meat, ” Kim chucked without humor, still staring with dead eyes.
“At least we get food,” Connie commented.
Andie giggled quietly again. “Oh, you get food…meat…gotta love the long pork, girl.”
“The what?”
“They’ll give you the scraps from the one of us they kill. Me, I hope,” Kim said, “I hope it’s me you get to eat.”
Connie decided these three were insane.
Kim sat and waited to die. He was ready; only the fact that he hadn’t gotten to skin one of their tormenters bothered him as unfinished business. Something else had his attention now, though, and he drew in a tight breath. “Mark, Andie. The place.”
Andie froze in place. “Oh, my God.”
“I’ll be there directly, ” Kim sounded as if he were raving with the fever.
“Kim, we need to help you,” Andie said.
“You get yourself and Mark to safety. I’ll join you if I don’t feel too tired.”
Andie looked at Kim with tears in her eyes. She didn’t expect him to make it; he was just too tired, too sick, too far gone in his head.
“Good luck, Kim,” Mark said.
“You and Mark, go still.”
“He’s crazy. You dying of that fever, asshole?” Connie said. She laughed loudly. “Good. I don’t like you anywa
y. I prefer the RA.”
Andie slipped her whole body into the reeking mud that smelled of piss, rolling once and then settling in on her stomach, not moving at all.
“That’s disgusting,” Connie said, watching.
Mark moved into the shadows a little more, rubbing against old, rotten food and pissed mud. He went still.
Connie pulled at her chains. “You stink.” She struggled to get farther away from the other three whom she thought were crazy. Whatever she was about to say died on her lips as she cocked her head and said, “Oh, no. No way. Help. I need help.”
“Shut up,” Kim whispered.
“Zom…” She tried to scream, but Kim kicked a big, half-burned section of wood at her, catching her in the head and face so that she fell backward, spitting blood and crying, but she went quiet.
From behind the tree where Kim sat, several zombies came out of the woods, staggering past him, ignoring Mark and Andie as they stood in the clearing.
From the main part of camp came the sounds of gunfire, a thunderous moaning, and screams; the noise sounded like a horde was upon them; they were surrounded.
Kim grinned.
Connie saw the three zombies around her and began screaming again as one reached for her leg. She kicked and squirmed to get away, but she could only bat with her cuffed hands and kick.
The first one snagged her arm and drew it up to sink dull, dirty teeth into her flesh to its gums, ripping and chewing away a chunk of skin and muscle. Blood spurted warm and bright red. Connie screamed over and over in pain and horror.
The second one, seeming to become more animated with blood flowing, took Connie’s leg and bit into her bare foot, taking toes off, yanking to break the bones as it crunched down. Her screams were just a small part of the noise all over. Everyone was screaming.
The third one left her to her attackers, shambling into the second clearing where more came from the other direction.
The men were fighting back, their warm flesh and blood tantalizing.
Like sharks, a zombie could smell and appreciate the scent of blood that drew it even while the screams were music it didn’t understand. If it gained any pleasure in this new form, it did so from bones breaking, flesh ripping, and the warm blood flowing into its mouth. No old memories clouded the kill for these; they simply ate and passed on the infection with no thoughts, no purpose, pain, or fear.
