The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned
Page 16
They searched the entire floor, finding no signs of recent habitation by the previous owners or any others. Animal scat in several rooms pointed to an invasion by forest denizens at some point.
Steven located the stairs that led to the finished basement. “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he told Kera and descended into the darkness.
Kera walked to the kitchen. It looked like an animal had torn through the place leaving a trail of trash and broken tableware across the floor. She opened the cupboards trying to find something edible. When she came to the two door refrigerator/freezer standing closed next to the stove, she knew better than to open it and assault her nose with the putrid smells it was sure to contain.
She heard a light thump behind her and spun around with a gasp, her finger seeking the shotgun’s trigger as she raised the barrel. The sound had come from behind a pair of folding pantry doors recessed in a wall near the entrance to the kitchen. She took slow, steady steps toward the doors, her free hand reaching out to the knobs.
She thought she heard a scratching sound from behind the door and hesitated with her hand on the knob. It didn’t repeat itself. Maybe I’m only hearing branches rubbing against the roof, she told herself. I’m acting like a frightened teenager.
She took a deep breath and yanked the door open.
They flew out at her in a blur of motion, an avalanche of boxes and cans tumbling to the floor behind them. She screamed shrilly and fell backwards with them on top of her, the shotgun slipping from her grip and sliding across the floor to the length of its sling.
She screamed again and swiped at the two field mice that in their terror were clinging to her shirt with tightly clenched little claws.
“Eeew God!” she cried out one more time, dislodging them from her shirt and sending them sliding halfway across the kitchen floor before they could regain their traction and scurry through the scattered trash and disappear in a blur of brown fur around the back of the refrigerator.
Steven came tearing around the corner looking for a target through his rifle’s holosight. He saw Kera lying on her back on the dirty linoleum floor and ran to her while trying to determine where the threat was located.
“Where are they?” he yelled.
She pointed toward the refrigerator then started giggling. He stared at her wide-eyed as her giggles turned into uncontrollable laughter.
“Wha—?”
Kera rolled on the filthy floor in fits of laughter. “M-m-mice!” she managed to blurt out.
Steven’s shoulder slumped and he let his rifle drop loose on its sling. “Mice?” he asked, starting to laugh too.
She nodded and when she looked at him she burst into another fit of laughter, tears rolling down her face. “Mice,” she acknowledged.
Steven sat there with his arms around her laughing along with her until he realized that she wasn’t laughing anymore, but silently weeping. She gazed up at him with tears streaming down her face and her nose bright red.
“I am just a frightened teenager, Steve.” She sniffled softly. “I don’t want to have to be scared anymore.” She slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.
It wasn’t a mother-lode of food, nevertheless they did find a days’ worth of canned goods if they rationed it carefully. Steven thought there would be plenty more houses and food to sustain them along their hike. What was really helpful were several pairs of women’s tennis shoes in the bedroom closet. One pair was a little ratty, however they fit Dontela perfectly. The other shoes, a newer pair, Dontela tossed to Katherine, who sat down and pulled off her too large reeking boots and tossed them aside. The shoes were also large on Katherine; however an extra pair of clean socks from a dresser drawer made them a tolerable fit. They also found a pair of canvas slip-on moccasins that went onto Jane’s feet with plenty of room to spare. They scrounged a couple of heavy winter coats from another closet, along with some miscellaneous clothes for the girls. Dontela was ecstatic to find a few boxes of maxi-pads under the bathroom sink.
“It’s almost time for Aunt Flo to come visiting,” she told them with a grin. After a cold meal and bathroom breaks, they set out on the lonely highway again as the sun reached its zenith in the crisp October sky.
They hit several other houses on the way to the interstate, adding to their food stores and other supplies with each stop. At one home they found the rotting remains of the inhabitants, who had turned and then been trapped within their own home. From the condition of the remains it looked like one of the Loonies had turned to feeding on the other to sustain itself. They had been drinking the water in the toilets and when that had been completely consumed they must have soon thereafter died of dehydration.
The group of survivors chose an old and isolated split-level home overlooking Interstate 64 to spend the night. The house was locked up tight, forcing Steven to smash open a small casement window by the door to gain entry. The interior was well kept and clean, and gave the appearance that the owners had just up and left recently. There were a few cords of split wood stored in an adjacent woodshed so they were able to get a roaring fire going in the central fireplace and chase away some of the deep chill that penetrated the home. The cupboards were bare of any food, although they had liberated enough from other homes that they were able to have a hot meal that evening. There was no running water, however a pitcher-pump well in the back allowed them to fill a galvanized steel bucket and heat it in the fireplace to wash and cook with. The three bedrooms each held a bed that looked and felt like heaven to the four survivors. With the doors locked, they went to bed that night feeling safer and more human than they had in nearly a week.
Despite the comforts of a real bed, Katherine was having trouble sleeping. She woke up sometime after midnight and tossed and turned for an hour before finally slipping out of the bed dressed only in an oversized shirt and wooly socks. She left Dontela softly snoring, deep under the heavy covers of the twin sized bed, and quietly crept out of the room. She pulled the door so that it softly latched behind her then tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom to pee. When she was finished she flushed the toilet using well water in a plastic two-gallon bucket that they had set there specifically for this task, and then splashed some of the cold water on her face. She stood there in the dark, relishing the solace of the quiet room before deciding to go sit in front of the fire to try and relax. Maybe the comforting warmth of the crackling flames would allow her to settle down and fall back to sleep again. As she headed to the living area of the house, past the foyer, she heard a faint noise at the landing at the bottom of the stairs, like the muffled sound of cloth falling to the ground.
She stopped in her tracks and stared hard into the darkness of the stairway. Was there a large shadow in front of the door? The darkness shifted and swirled but was otherwise impenetrable. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips as she shifted her head forward to try and see. She took a tentative step down, holding her breath as her hand searched instinctively for a light switch, finding it, then catching herself before flipping it. A nervous frown broke across her shadowed face and she anxiously swiped back strands of loose hair from her eyes after she realized what she had been about to do. It had been out of the pure habit of one who is used to always having electricity on demand. She let out her breath and took another step down the carpeted stairs.
There it was again, scarcely a hint of noise, so low she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it.
She felt a cold breeze gently blowing through the broken window below rustling her thin shirt and causing her nipples to harden embarrassingly beneath the fabric.
It was only the wind, she thought to herself and giggled out loud.
Then the darkness moved. It erupted forth up the stairs in a burst of speed, a large, dark hulk with no form. She took in a breath to scream as she tried to scramble up the stairs but terror overcame her and her long legs tangled together and her scream caught in her mouth.
Then it was on her.
It was like a w
all of solid rock hitting her and she was slammed backwards into the hallway, her breath gushing from her lungs with a whoosh. She hit the floor and nearly blacked out, though by sheer will she won the fight to keep conscious. She smelled the reek of sweat and stale breath as the bearded figure pressed her down onto the floor, his face inches from hers. A large, calloused hand closed around her mouth, pressing her head back hard into the carpet. She tried to scream though the meaty fingers although she could only force a moan deep in her throat. She beat at the man with her balled fist and it was like striking steel. When she realized her blows were having no effect, she reached back and smacked the wall next to her head over and over again with the flat of her hand, however the thickly bearded man hastily grabbed her arm and pinned it to her side.
She breathed loudly and heavily through her nose, struggling under the unyielding weight of the man. Is it an M80 or a man? her mind screamed at her. In her terror, she forgot about the sweet stench that always accompanied the diseased humans.
“Shhh! Stop struggling. I won’t hurt you!” a husky voice hissed into her ear.
She nodded her head in understanding and the man eased the pressure on her mouth a little.
“You’re in our house!” he said softly in her ear. “Who’s here with you?”
She gave a muffled reply into his hand.
“If I take my hand off, do you promise not to scream?
She nodded her head vigorously.
He hesitantly removed his hand. As soon as it was clear of her mouth she let out a bloodcurdling scream, which was abruptly cut off as the hand came back across her lips harder than before. She tasted the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Please not again! her brain screamed at her as she felt the man’s body pressing down on hers.
He leaned in again. “I’m not going to hurt you!” he emphasized in a harsh whisper. “Why are you in our house?”
Abruptly the area around them was flooded with light.
Katherine saw a blur of movement in the hallway beside them as a flashlight beam bounced over their prone forms. There was a solid thump and the man grunted and fell sideways off of her. She lay there in shock as the weight came off her body and her mouth was free to suck in a large lungful of air before she moaned loudly in terror.
Kera was in a deep, dreamless sleep when something woke her into a semi-aware daze. She opened her eyes in the darkness, listening for any sound besides Steven’s gentle breathing beside her. A girl’s scream erupted from outside the bedroom door to be just as abruptly cut off. Steven sat up suddenly in the bed, shaking off his sleep.
“What was that?” he asked groggily.
She didn’t answer him. Jumping out of bed, she grabbed her shotgun from beside the dresser and the flashlight lying on her pile of clothes and ran to the door. Disregarding her own nudity, she slammed it open and flew out into the hallway. Behind her Steven grabbed up a pair of boxers and awkwardly slid them on while fumbling for his own light and handgun.
Kera’s light illuminated the scene in the hallway. She saw the large, bearded man dressed in brown kaki paints and a red and black flannel jacket lying on top of a half-naked Katy with a big grubby hand over her mouth.
The man gazed up into her light-beam with widening eyes and she sensed a terrible anger rising up within her body which morphed swiftly to an unimaginable rage. She rushed at the stranger before he could react and slammed the butt of her shotgun into the side of his head, watching with satisfaction when the force of the blow knocked him sideways off the girl.
He immediately sat up with a trickle of blood winding a red path down his temple, his mouth open in an expression of surprise at the naked teenaged girl with long, dark tousled hair who stood so boldly before him with a military looking shotgun pointing at his chest.
“Wait,” he started, bringing his arms up defensively across his face. “I wasn’t hurting her!”
Kera only heard the blood pounding in her temples. She glanced down and saw Katy cowering on the floor with her shirt pulled up, revealing her nakedness from the waist down and a smear of blood on her lips. The sight sent Kera over the edge.
“You motherfucker!” she screamed at the man and squeezed the trigger.
The boom of the 12-gauge and the resulting fireball deadened all her senses. When her vision cleared the man was lying on his back with his upper chest a mangled, bloody mess and his lifeless eyes fixed on the ceiling. Steven appeared beside her with his .45 pistol and flashlight pointed at the body. Dontela approached behind him with a comforter wrapped around her tall, naked form.
Before anyone could say a word, the front door at the bottom of the stairs flew open and hit the wall with a bang. Kera spun her shotgun and light to illuminate another person rushing into the foyer. They were dressed heavily against the cold with a black knit cap pulled down tightly over their head and a matching scarf wrapped tightly around the face. She saw the glint of metal in their hands and realized it was a shotgun.
“Daddy?” came a frightened voice from the small figure as it rushed up the stairs at them, except that all Kera heard and saw was the shotgun safety clicking off and the barrel beginning to rise toward her. She rapidly pulled the trigger on the semi-automatic shotgun again.
At practically the same instant, Steven screamed “No!” and rammed his shoulder into Kera, causing her to stumble sideways, and the shot to tear a hole into the wall of the stairwell inches from the stranger.
The small figure on the stairs stopped abruptly, eyes wide in shock as the small shotgun fell from their gloved hands.
Kera nearly snarled at Steven and gave him a look of pure venom as she caught herself on the railing to keep from falling onto the dead man beside her. Steven bounded down several stairs and grabbed up the shotgun before the intruder could recover from their shock-frozen stance and pick it up.
He backed up the stairs keeping his light and handgun covering the intruder, and handed the shotgun to Dontela.
The liquid green eyes peering out between the winter coverings opened wide when the person caught sight of the dead man.
“Daddy!” a child’s voice wailed loudly and the person shot up the stairs between Kera and Steven and threw themselves on the body lying on the blood soaked carpet.
Katy crawled over to the weeping child and pulled off the knit hat. A thick, curly plume of long hair cascaded out around the shoulders of the little girl, who snarled and batted away Katy’s hand.
“You killed him!” she screamed. “You killed my daddy!”
Katy stood up and backed away, looking at Kera with wide eyes. Kera stood looking at the little girl with her mouth hanging open, ignoring the cold air streaming through the open front door and chilling her naked body. Steven stepped up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him as if she had just woken from a dream… or a nightmare.
“Why did you kill him?” the girl sobbed, “This is our house. You shouldn’t have been here!”
Kera glared back at Katherine. “He was hurting you! He was trying to rape you, wasn’t he?” she asked desperately.
“I don’t know,” Katherine almost whined, and began to cry. “He, he said he wasn’t going to hurt me.” She glanced back at Dontela with pleading eyes. “I thought it was happening again.”
The small girl jumped up and ran at Kera and beat on her with her tiny, blood covered fists. “You killed Daddy!” she screamed, her fists pounding on Kera’s breasts and stomach. Kera backed away, her eyes overflowing with tears and wide with shock.
“He was hurting Katy!” she cried frantically, looking for understanding in the eyes of her companions.
Steven grabbed the little girl by her wrists. The scarf had fallen away from her face revealing the delicate but determined heart-shaped face of a preadolescent child.
“We’re sorry.” Steven whispered to her soothingly. “We didn’t know, we thought he was a bad guy.”
The girl stared at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Daddy would never hurt anyone unless they
were trying to hurt me.” She was overwhelmed with sobs again and Steven drew her close into his arms and hugged her tight. She buried her face in his shoulder and he felt her hot tears streaming down his bare chest.
The little girl finally pushed away from Steven, walked over, and sat next to her father. She laid his head in her lap and stroked the hair away from his open eyes. “Oh, Daddy, please don’t leave me. I love you so much.” She hung her head low and kissed him on the forehead.
“This is some fucked-up shit,” Dontela muttered from where she had been watching from behind the group.
“But I thought—” Kera pleaded, stifling a sob with the back of her hand as the horror of what she had done overwhelmed her.
Katy put her arms around the naked girl and hugged her close. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known,” she cooed.
“I just thought—” She shook her head, trying to delay the tears that wanted to pour forth. She couldn’t believe that only moments ago she had destroyed that poor little girl’s life, taken away the only family she probably had left in the world. And she had almost killed her too! She gasped out loud as that horrifying thought screamed devastatingly in her brain. She swooned and almost collapsed, however, Steven was there and had his warm arms around her too, holding her up.
“Come on, babe. Let’s go get you dressed,” he said gently, and led her back to the room on rubbery legs.
Katherine and Dontela stood staring at the grieving girl, who now was oblivious to all else except the body of her father whose hair she lovingly stroked.
“Are you all right?” Dontela asked Katy, who stood in the darkness with blood dripping down her knees from where she had knelt next to the man.
Katy nodded absently, her long hair in disarray around her face. “It all happened so fast. I was so scared. I thought it was those men again.” She wiped the tears from her eyes with the palms of her delicate hands.