The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned

by Hetzer, Paul

  After they crossed south over the highway Dontela bolted from the group and ran over to the northbound lanes. She stopped in the middle of the slush covered road looking both ways while the rest of the group paused to watch her.

  “Y’all better see this,” she called to them.

  They left Melody holding on to the toboggan’s rope in which Angela still sat comfortably and ran over to Dontela. She pointed to the ground around her. The snow and slush had been recently trampled flat by a multitude of feet. Individual footprints were clearly visible in spots. Human feet headed in the same direction they were.

  “Loonies,” Kera scowled.

  Steven nodded. “And a shitload of them.”

  Katherine’s face grew pale as she glanced up and down the road, thinking that the cold, miserable highway wasn’t such a bad place after all.

  “What do we do now?” Dontela asked, her eyes alert to her surroundings.

  “We continue with our plan,” Steven replied firmly. “We’ll find a house that we can dry off in, one with a woodstove instead of a fireplace.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “A woodstove emits a lot less smoke than a fireplace. Smoke coming from a chimney is the same as hanging a flashing neon sign out front saying ‘we are here’.”

  Dontela nodded in understanding. “Don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s go.”

  They traipsed back to the other side and Steven, taking the toboggan rope from Melody, led them toward the homes that were set back from the road. Katherine explained to Melody what they had found, and the four that were armed kept a tight grip on the cold metal of their firearms, wondering what use they would be if they ran into too big of a group of the savage creatures.

  The first half dozen homes had either chimneys or nothing emerging from their roofs. Then finally they spotted a red, brick-sided home sporting an obvious stovepipe on the back slope of its roof. They approached through the snow-covered yard and Steven and Kera left the others near the front porch while they circled the house looking for tracks in the snow.

  “Nothing has been in or out or around the home since the snow fell,” he told them when they returned.

  “Maybe there are M80s inside,” Katherine said in a fearful whisper.

  “If there are, they are probably long dead from starvation,” Kera reassured her.

  They knocked lightly on the windows and doors and thankfully, the inside of the house remained quiet and still.

  “We’ll go in through the back,” Steven told them, the sight of the stampede of Loony footprints through the snow still fresh in his mind.

  The rear entryway held a solid, stout wooden door that took several hard kicks by Steven and Dontela before they finally forced it open. The snow dampened the banging noise and kept the sound from carrying too far. Steven and Kera entered the house first, clearing the main and upper floors before telling the others it was safe to enter. Katherine was the last in, and as she shut the door she thought she caught a streak of motion on another street lined with homes less than a hundred yards away. She slammed the door shut with a gasp, and winced at the loud noise it made when it failed to latch and banged back open.

  “I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly when the others glared at her.

  She pushed the door gently shut this time and peeked out the curtained window of the door, back to where she thought she had seen something moving. There was nothing there now.

  Probably just my imagination, she said to herself and stepped back into the kitchen area of the home. She was always jumpy anymore. It was a never-ending nightmare she had to endure every waking hour. She simply wished they could go someplace where there weren’t any of the M80s. Someplace safe. Maybe find a place where there were other people and she could hook up with a nice boy and settle down. She was tired of the goddamned walking too. Her feet were aching and sore with blisters and the numbing cold. She was always hungry. Oh, and a hot shower or bath, God, she would do anything for one. She was so stinky and filthy and her hair such a matted mess that she didn’t even feel human anymore. She was barely twenty years old and it felt like her life had come to a screeching halt.

  “We need to find a way to secure that door,” Steven said next to her, shaking her out of her reverie. She nodded and stepped out of the way.

  They decided to shove the large refrigerator over to block the broken door. It took three of them to move the heavy machine into place and Katherine felt a rush of relief when the door was finally blocked. HAD she seen something out there?

  It turned out to be a fortuitous pick of homes. Not only was there a cord of wood stacked in a carport next to the attached garage, the house had propane for cooking and heating water and it was on city water, which still was pressurized from the nearby standpipe. Katherine’s dream of a hot bath would become a reality that evening. Without electricity, the home’s propane furnace was inoperable, however the freestanding woodstove in the family room soon had the interior temperature a comfortable 70 degrees. There were canned and boxed foods in the pantry, at least enough for close to a week of consumption by the six people who now inhabited the house.

  “We still need to make a run and get some better winter footwear and maybe a couple of sleeping bags to replace Melody’s and Angela’s blankets,” Steven told them after they had finished eating a light, hot lunch. A Target based shopping center sat less than a half mile from their front door. They decided that first thing in the morning they would do a scavenging run and gather what they could if the area appeared clear of the Loonies.

  “We can stay here for a while, can’t we?” Katherine asked, warming her bare feet near the radiating warmth of the woodstove.

  “You saw them tracks earlier,” Dontela spoke up. “I ain’t about to be hanging out near that large of a crowd of them M80s, no matter how nice our new digs are.”

  “She’s right.” Steven sighed. “It would only be a matter of time before they found us.”

  “Just a couple of days,” Katherine pleaded. “We don’t have to go out and could be really quiet in the house. They wouldn’t know we’re here.”

  “I’m with Katy,” Kera said from beside him, “We could all use a couple of days to recoup. We are all road-weary, our feet are trashed with blisters from walking so many miles in bad fitting and wet shoes. We all stink to high heaven. This is a good place, better than most places we’ll find.” She sighed and stared up into his dark eyes. “I know you want to find Jeremy as soon as possible. I do too, but killing ourselves on the road is not going to accomplish that. He’s probably already at your farm waiting for you. Taking a little longer to get there is not going to change anything.”

  Steven stared at the burning embers in the stove through the glass of the door, trying to tame the turmoil of his thoughts.

  “I like it here too,” Angela chimed in, dipping a spoon full of peanut butter into a jar of strawberry preserves before licking the spoon clean with a look of utter ecstasy spreading across her face.

  “Me too.” Melody smiled. The swelling and bruising on her face had faded and her looks were returning to normal, revealing a handsome, if not pretty, olive-complected woman with a sharp Romanesque nose and large, bright, hazel eyes.

  “You people are bent if you want to stay here anymore than one night,” Dontela said sharply. “I know I’m gonna be jumping at every noise I hear outside while we’re here.”

  “No,” Steven said reluctantly. “They’re right. We need to recoup our energy, get cleaned up, and not be living on the edge of starvation for a few days. That will give the snow time to melt and make travelling easier on all of us also.” He smiled fondly at Kera. “And you’re right, a few more days isn’t going to make a difference in our search.”

  It was an hour before sundown when they heard the noise outside, a rumbling vibration that strummed the nerves of their bodies like plucked violin strings. They all peeked out the windows and watched a huge swarm of Loonies stamped back up the road in the opposite direction tha
t their footprints had shown them taking earlier. They were amazed; not only at their numbers, but also the fact that many of them had taken clothes, drapes, and blankets, and had wrapped them around themselves forming crude coverings to protect against the biting cold. Very few were wearing any sort of footwear. It took nearly fifteen minutes for the fast moving swarm to disappear up the road.

  The sight had left them all with a feeling of uneasiness and a sense of foreboding. After dinner they tried to wash away those uneasy feelings by taking hot baths and showers. Later they split off into the home’s three bedrooms for the night, and fell into light, fitful sleeps.

  Outside, as the temperatures dropped and the dark of the night deepened, a bundled figure crunched through the crusty snow to the back door of the home. It glared in a kitchen window, and not seeing anything, crept around the walls of the house, listening or peeking in when it found a window without a shade or curtain pulled. The only sounds it made were of its cloth wrapped feet breaking through the thin layer of ice that had formed on top of the snow and its hoarse breath that snorted in puffs of steam through its nose. Finally it trotted off into the darkness.

  The following morning the six occupants of the house gradually emerged from their rooms after daybreak. Dontela and Angela, who were becoming as close as sisters, were the last to appear from their shared bedroom. Dontela discreetly told them that the little girl had cried herself to sleep again last night, longing for her dead family.

  Steven had already stoked the woodstove and added an armful of wood to the glowing embers in its box so that the room was warm by the time everyone gathered there. Hot oatmeal and farina was heated on the propane cooktop, along with tea and coffee. They sat down in the family room and consumed their first hot breakfast in almost a week.

  “Are we still going shopping this morning?” Dontela asked from where she was relaxing on the couch after her meal. She stared at the others over a steaming mug of coffee that she had both hands wrapped tightly around to absorb the heat.

  Kera nodded. “Yeah. I think we should. I feel better about going knowing all those Loonies are gone from this area.”

  “Me too,” Dontela admitted. “I’ll be able to rest a lot easier tonight.”

  “We can’t get too complacent,” Steven cautioned. “They may come back, or some could still be around out there.” He stood by the woodstove with nothing on except a thick flannel robe he had found in the master bedroom. Kera stood next to her man wearing a matching robe and sipping hot tea.

  “If you all don’t mind, I’d rather stay here,” Katherine said in a timid voice.

  Dontela stared contemptuously at the girl, whatever bonds that had formed between the two girls through necessity over the past months were falling apart a little more each day.

  Steven pretended not to notice the building friction. “Okay. I was going to suggest that Melody and Angela stay here anyway.” A thought sprang into his mind. “Wait here a minute.” He went back to his room and a moment later reemerged with Holly’s AR rifle that he had carried for so long in his backpack. He cleared the gun and handed it to Katherine.

  “It’s easier to use than your lever-action, although not as powerful. However, it is faster and you can put more lead into your target.”

  Katherine took the black rifle like it was a venomous snake and held it at arm’s length away from her body.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, girl, it ain’t going to bite you!” Dontela admonished her.

  Katy glared at the gun in her hands; she felt as terrified of it as she did the M80s. She had been raised in a liberal household that was very anti-gun. She had been taught from a young age that all guns were evil killing machines whose only purpose was to kill people or innocent animals. She had overcome her fear enough to carry the hunting rifle with the wooden stock. It didn’t look that scary, and besides, she hadn’t had to use it and really didn’t plan on it. Let the other people here shoot the M80s. In some way they were still people and she just didn’t think she could bring herself to shoot them. But this thing! A military assault weapon? This gun represented the epitome of all the anti-gun rhetoric she had been fed. Even if it was the end of the world and she was the last person alive surrounded by a thousand M80s, she wouldn’t use this cold, evil, killing machine.

  “That’s alright, I’ll stick with the other gun,” she said uneasily and shoved the gun back into Steven’s hands. Dontela just rolled her eyes and turned away.

  “I’ll take it,” Melody said softly. She had appeared in the doorway from the kitchen. She walked over to Steven and he held it out to her.

  “Do you know how to operate it?” he asked.

  She shook her head, wrapping her slim hands delicately around the black metal and took it from him, holding it reverently, as if it was some sacred relic. She looked up at Steven and grinned. She sensed a power flow from the cold steel up her arms and course through her body. She knew with this thing in her hands, no man would ever subjugate her again, never again would they take from her without her giving freely, or hurt her or those she loved. She felt empowered.

  “Will you show me how to use it?”

  “Of course we will,” Kera said kindly, seeing in her another warrior woman being born.

  “How about me?” Angela asked.

  “What about you?” Dontela snorted, putting her arm around the pretty little girl.

  “I need a gun too. My daddy let me shoot before.”

  “Kids shouldn’t be playing with guns, sweetheart,” Katherine said firmly. They had carried Angela’s 20 gauge shotgun on the toboggan, although they had kept it from her since they first discovered her.

  Dontela spoke up before anyone else, “She needs to be able to protect herself.” She said this despite the fact that she kind of agreed with Katy. However, since she was a bit agitated with her friend, she would have taken the opposite side in any argument right now.

  “Dontela’s right. She’s going to need to learn to handle a firearm safely and be able to defend herself,” Steven said in a dry matter-of-fact tone. “However, that will have to come later. We don’t have anything to fit your small hands right now, and the shotgun is still too big for you.” He was thinking of finding a small .22 rifle for the child, hell they even made pink ones. If all else failed they would cut down the barrel of the shotgun for her.

  An hour later Steven, Kera, and Dontela slipped out of the attached garage and headed up the driveway in the direction of the distant shopping center. All three failed to see the extra set of footprints that circled the house along with their own.

  On the roads the snow was melting rapidly where the sun was hitting it, yet the shaded areas were still snow covered and icy, so they took their time crossing the treacherous spots. Their muffled footsteps sounded incredibly loud in the dead silence that surrounded them. They carried with them a list of supplies that they needed including shoe sizes of the three girls that had stayed behind.

  Katy and Melody stood in the open doorway of the garage and watched the three disappear out of sight when the land dipped down on the other side of the road behind a screen of trees and shrubs. Melody had the short-barreled AR slung around her shoulder and felt comfortable in the theory of its operation, even though she had only been able to dry-fire it. She now had a thirty round magazine loaded in the mag well and a round chambered; it gave her a newfound confidence.

  They slipped back into the warm house, unaware of the eyes on them.

  When the door closed, a group of individuals emerged from behind a snow-covered clump of bushes, led by the bundled figure that had braved the freezing temperatures overnight to case the home. No words were spoken, as that ability had been wiped from them like letters from a chalkboard. Yet still, some sort of communication took place. Through a sneer or a growl or the flash of a bloodshot eye, the alpha male directed the lesser male and the four females to follow him. By his sheer will, he had kept not only himself, but also the other five from charging after the other creatures
when they had emerged from the dwelling.

  The alpha, a tall, muscular black man with a dirty afro and corresponding beard crawled forward. His head poked through a hole that he had chewed through the center of a thick pleated comforter and a piece of wire held it in place around his waist, an amazing feat of intelligence for one with a barely functioning brain. The others to a lesser extent had mimicked him and sported their own cold weather dress.

  There were more and more developing like him as the wiring in their diminished, disease-ridden brains found new pathways and areas untouched by the virus, which still battled to lay waste to cells within their heads. A form of primitive animal intelligence was forming, allowing the alphas to control the members of their packs that had the more ravaged brains, giving them a modicum of control over their incessant rage, and allowing them patience on the hunt.

  They bounded on all fours over the snow like a pack of hunting lions, keeping low to the ground to avoid detection. Within seconds they had reached the dark cave of the carport and crept up to the door into the attached garage. They sniffed around the door and didn’t detect any of the sweet familiar scent that identified others like them. The alpha male stood before the door, his jaws snapping open and shut unconsciously as he peeked in the dark window. His hand pushed on the door but it stayed shut. He had seen the hated creatures come through here and instinctively knew that this was the way to get to them, yet he lacked the intelligence to understand how the mechanism before him worked.

  His hands clawed at the door while the rest of his pack stood around watching him. When his hand touched the door handle it instinctively grasped it. He yanked and pushed on it. However the door remained closed. Then by luck, he twisted his hand on the knob.

  There was a click that startled the six of them and then the door creaked open. The alpha released the knob, not understanding what he had done, only that there was now an opening before him. Somewhere in what remained of his brain, an electro-chemical memory of opening the door was stored in a viable cell.