The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection

by Lewis, M. Lauryl

  “She’s gone,” Ellis whispered.

  I didn’t respond, other than using my right forearm to wipe tears from my face. My vision was blurred and my left arm, still holding pressure to Hazel’s wound, began to shake. Ellis’ hand slid from my shoulder down my arm, where he stopped at my wrist.

  “Poppy, you can let go.”

  “No,” I said, my voice as shaky as my arm. “She just stopped bleeding. If I let go…” my voice broke off.

  He gently put pressure on my arm, encouraging me to pull it back. “She’s gone. She won’t bleed anymore.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Shhh.”

  He pulled a bit harder on my wrist, and I finally let go of her arm. The bloodied gauze roll fell to the soiled mattress. Her arm lay limp beside her. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her face, so kept my gaze focused on her arm. The missing chunk of flesh, no longer continually filling with blood, was deeper than I thought. Bone was exposed where muscle had been ripped away. My entire body lurched as I realized the gravity of what had just happened. Ellis wrapped his arms around me and held me close, my back to his chest. I could feel his tears on my neck as he leaned his head against mine.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I mumbled between shuddering breaths and still-falling tears. “I should have…”

  “Shhh, it’s not your fault,” he soothed. “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Mike died back there.”

  I nodded, once again using my forearm to wipe away tears.

  “He came back.”

  I found myself unable to speak or nod but raised my bloody left arm and grabbed onto his arms, which were still wrapped around my chest.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked quietly.

  “No,” I replied.

  “We have to assume Hazel will come back too. We can’t be here when that happens.”

  I nodded gently.

  “We’re out of gas, so we need to head out on foot. We’re only about half a mile from the building we left. We need to get back there, see if we can start that car in the parking lot.”

  “Those things are back there,” I said.

  “I know. But we don’t really have a choice. There’s nothing else around.”

  He adjusted his hands, turning me to look at him. His eyes were glossy and red from crying, and he looked gravely serious.

  “I need you to hold it together for a bit. Can you do that?”

  I looked into his eyes and nodded. “I can try.”

  “We have to go,” he said, his voice cracking from emotional turmoil. “We each need to carry a pack and as many guns as we can. We have to stay together and stay quiet, but we also need to move fast.”

  I nodded. Ellis closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, I was still watching his face. I knew by his expression and the sounds coming from behind me that Hazel had “come back,” as Ellis had put it. His entire body tensed, and he stood up, pulling me with him.

  “Get behind me,” he said sternly.

  I wasn’t given a choice as he used one arm to push me behind him. I watched in horror as Hazel sat up. Her eyes were distant and nothing about her seemed to hold her…essence. In short order, she crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for us with her uninjured arm. It took the other arm longer to react. Vocalizations emerged from her lips that almost sounded like she was trying to form words.

  “Hazel,” whispered Ellis.

  I clung to the back of his shirt, as if I might be able to pull him back. “It’s not her.”

  Elllirrrrth…any sounds that came after that were clearly feral and incoherent. Ellis sighed heavily, his breath hitching in his chest. Hazel’s eyes, now lacking the sparkle of life, focused intently on the man in front of me. Her face contorted into a snarl and she crouched awkwardly like a cat about to run after a rat. I quickly knelt and pulled the knife from its home on my ankle.

  “Get back, she’s going to attack,” I begged him as I returned to an upright position.

  Hazel awkwardly swung her legs over the bed and even more awkwardly stood up. She seemed unsteady on her feet, but it didn’t last longer than her first two steps toward us. Ellis backed into me and my left hip painfully collided with the kitchen counter edge and I fought to stay upright. The woman who I had hoped to form a friendship with lunged forward, grabbing onto Ellis. All he could do was hold her at arm’s length, and her advancement pushed him into me, further wedging me between him and the cabinets. Hazel’s snarls grew louder, and her jaws began snapping, creating a surreal sound as Ellis loudly protested her progression toward him. As uncomfortable as I already was, I rotated my body and slid out from behind him. It resulted in both of them lurching - her forward and him backward – and in me nearly losing my footing. I steadied myself on my good leg and moved forward quickly. Hazel was swinging her arms wildly trying to grab onto her brother, and one of her hands made a fist with my hair wound tightly between her fingers. Ellis moved both of his hands from her shoulders to her neck in one swift motion and pushed her farther back.

  “Do it,” he grunted.

  I steadied my blade and drove it into her left ear, knowing that it would be the path of least resistance to her brain; at least from my angle. Hazel’s right side went limp, which seemed to increase the fight from her left side.

  “Shit,” I mumbled. Ellis didn’t answer. “It’s not long enough,” I whimpered.

  “What?” he asked, his voice full of irritation.

  “The damn knife.” I grunted as I tried unsuccessfully to pull the blade back out.

  “Hold on,” he said loudly, making sure I could hear him above Hazel’s now-intense grunts and growls.

  I did what he said, literally, and held a death grip on the handle of the blade. From the corner of my eye, I saw his knee come up and strike Hazel in the pelvis. Her hand still held a death grip on my hair, so when Ellis managed to knock her to the floor, I went with her. Hazel landed on her back and thrashed about, her mouth now drooping on the right side. I let go of the knife handle that protruded from the left side of her head and grabbed onto my hair where it was being pulled, hoping to keep my scalp intact by relieving pressure. Ellis grabbed onto Hazel’s long brown hair, enabling him to turn her head toward me. She focused on me, tightening her grip on my hair and extending her neck toward me.

  Ellis lifted his sister’s head as high as he could, then slammed the left side hard against the floor of the RV. It was enough to drive the knife deeper into her brain, and she finally fell still. Her grip relaxed, and I quickly untangled my hair from her hand and scooted as far away from her body as I could. I was breathing so hard I was afraid I might hyperventilate and pass out.

  Ellis sat on his heels. We both fought hard to catch our breath.

  “We have to go. Now,” he said.

  “I’m…I’m…” I stammered.

  “Later, Poppy. We can talk all we want later. Grab your pack and make sure it has water, ammo, and yours and Hazel’s pistols.”

  I stood awkwardly, favoring my sprained ankle. It was impossible to ignore Hazel’s body lying between us. Ellis pulled a bug-out bag from under the bed and tossed it to me.

  “Check to make sure it’s stocked with at least four bottles of water.” He knelt down and retrieved the pistol from the back of hazel’s waistband. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.

  I took it and checked the clip to make sure it was loaded, and then unzipped the backpack and counted bottles of water – five – before placing the gun inside. I forced myself to not look down at Hazel’s body and didn’t have the courage to look at Ellis.

  Chapter Eight

  The highway was empty and the air itself felt heavy and oppressive. No birds chirped, no cars drove by, not even a breeze blew. I limped along as fast as I was able and could tell that Ellis worried our pace was too slow. It was impossible to say what else may be lurking nearby.

  “Just about another quarter mile,” he
said in a hushed tone. “If we need to go faster, or if we need to run, lean on me with your bad side and I’ll help you along.”

  “I’d just slow you down,” I huffed, slightly out of breath. “If that happens leave me behind.”

  “Can’t do that, sorry.”

  I didn’t bother asking him why.

  “The driveway’s just ahead around that bend. Let’s stop for a minute and listen. We might be better off getting off the road and heading in through the woods.”

  I followed him to the edge of the road, where we walked deep enough into the tree line to stay better hidden from view from possible prying eyes. I leaned against a tree to rest, holding my ankle up off the ground. Shrubs littered the area in which we stood, and sunlight filtered through the trees. Evening was approaching.

  “Hear anything?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Nothing. It has me a bit worried. We should at least hear the dead that were in the parking lot.”

  “Yeah. It feels creepy. Should we head back to the motorhome?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s out in the open and there’s too much risk we’d get trapped inside.”

  I noticed he’d avoided looking directly at me since we left the RV. I would understand if he blamed me for the deaths of both his sister and his best friend. If I hadn’t been along with them, maybe the three of them would have gone to inspect the building together. Mike might not have been killed, and on and on. I was letting my imagination get the best of me.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said quietly. “I know you’d rather be with them than me.”

  He finally looked directly at me. “It’s not like that. I just can’t mourn them yet. It’s not a you-or-them situation, so don’t think like that. Right now, it’s about our survival. Nothing else.”

  “There,” I whispered. I crouched down, wincing at the pain in my ankle. I was focused on a tree in the distance, where I saw movement. I pointed to help Ellis focus on the right spot. “I saw something dark move past that tree. Low down.”

  “Probably a coyote or a dog,” he answered.

  I wasn’t convinced. We both stopped talking to watch and listen. After a quick discussion we each stood on opposite sides of a small birch tree and observed in opposite directions to have a panoramic 360-degree view. Something to my right caught my attention. I turned my head and watched, unblinking. I realized there was dust in the air, obviously caused by something moving over the ground.

  “Ellis,” I whispered.

  He replied with a very quiet grunt.

  “Something moved to my right. I didn’t see it but there’s dust stirred up over a clearing in the shrubs.”

  “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. “We need to get out of here.”

  A twig snapped somewhere to my left and I flinched.

  “Take my hand,” I quietly pleaded.

  Ellis reached for me, and as soon as I felt the warmth of his fingers I clutched his hand firmly. Out of instinct, I scooted closer to him. The eerie silence was broken by the faint sound of a woman sobbing. It was a pathetic sound, as if she had lost something dear to her. As if she had lost all faith and hope.

  “What the hell?” mumbled Ellis.

  “There,” I whispered. “Look by that boulder. You can see her shoulders.”

  I didn’t take my eyes off the form that crouched at the far end of a boulder. It moved rhythmically with the melody of the crying.

  “I think we should approach carefully,” said Ellis as quietly as he could. “Grab your pistol and be ready to shoot. Make sure the safety’s off and there’s a round in the chamber.”

  “Consider it done,” I whispered back to him.

  I reached for the pistol that had begun to feel like a permanent part of my waistband. I carefully gripped it and pulled it out. I felt for the safety to make sure it was disengaged.

  The woman slowly looked toward us. Her movements seemed unnaturally slow. At first, she didn’t seem to see us. Ellis and I both stopped our advance toward her, and kept our weapons aimed at the ground. Eventually her eyes homed in on us, but their color was off. Clouded.

  “Ma’am? Are you okay?” he called to her.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I grabbed onto Ellis’ arm. The woman’s mouth spread into a slow and menacing smile, accentuating the deep creases that surrounded her lips.

  “There’s no help now, the ravens are below and the cow has died in the house plant, you know.” Her voice was high pitched with a child-like quality. “You missed his hell-train and the paint’s gone to seed.” She began cackling, as if she were crazy.

  “Ellis she’s not right,” I said.

  “I know. I think she’s infected and we need to get out of here.”

  To our left a footfall crackled in the fallen leaves.

  “Now he’s here, now he’s here, now he’s here, now he’s here,” the old woman chanted. “Bend over for him and you’ll understand why the horse hair’s been cut times ten!”

  I aimed my pistol at the woman, keeping my eyes on her. I could sense that Ellis was doing the same.

  “Hush little baby, don’t say a word…please, end this pain….” Her voice changed in pitch and melody, making those last four words sound somehow more human. “There’s no help now…there’s no help now…”

  “Cover your ears,” Ellis whispered.

  Despite my hesitance to lower my weapon, I followed his instruction and covered my ears with my palms. I flinched when his gun rang out; the woman collapsed onto her side. I uncovered my ears and looked at Ellis.

  “Can you hear me okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back.

  “We need to move. Fast. There’s something out there in the woods. Our best chance is to run.”

  “To where?” I asked, my heart racing.

  “Anywhere but here. Trust me?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  He nodded once.

  “Okay…now, climb on, Piggy back style,” he said. He crouched just low enough for me to scramble onto his back. I was surprised that he didn’t seem fazed by my weight.

  “Don’t look back,” he whispered. “And hold on tight,” he added as he straightened himself and began running.

  I locked my hands together in front of his neck, careful to not choke him, and tightened my thighs around his waist. I expected something to crash into us at any moment. Branches hit us several times as Ellis struggled to navigate through the woods. Once we got to a fallen log, Ellis slowed down just long enough for me to slip down from his back.

  “I think we’re clear,” he said, out of breath.

  “It’s getting dark,” I whispered, stating the obvious.

  “I need to rest for just a couple of minutes. Grab a water for me?”

  I swung the pack off my back and unzipped it, quickly producing a plastic bottle of water. I unscrewed the lid and handed it to him.

  “Do you think she was sick, or just crazy?” I asked as he drew large gulps from the bottle.

  “Maybe both. I think there were others there watching us.”

  “I felt them too. I mean, it felt like we were being watched.”

  “Let’s get moving. I don’t want to be out here after dark,” he said.

  “Let me try to walk,” I insisted.

  He nodded. “Let me know if you can’t do it, though.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He walked to a nearby tree, which appeared dead and was covered in moss. A branch hung down, halfway broken from where it grew. He severed it the rest of the way and stripped the bulk of moss off before handing it to me.

  “A walking stick,” was all he said.

  “Thanks.”

  We set off again, our pace slowed significantly by my injury. Neither of us spoke as we listened intently for any noises that were not our own.

  It wasn’t long before our pace slowed even more. Not only was I slowing us down, but the setting sun made it difficult to see.

  Ellis stopped and
looked back at me. While I was winded, he clearly was not.

  “Up ahead. See that tree trunk?”

  I shook my head side-to-side.

  “At two o’clock,” he pointed. “There’s pieces of two-by-fours nailed to the trunk, like ladder rungs.”

  I scanned the shadows carefully, and eventually saw the tree he meant. “Yeah, I see it.”

  “Look up,” he said.

  “A tree house?” I whispered as loud as I dare.

  “It’s getting too dark to keep going. I think we should climb up there and lay low for the night.”

  “You don’t have to convince me,” I said.

  I pushed forward with what felt like the last of my energy, relying heavily on the walking stick. The tree wasn’t far but the trek itself was difficult. The last few feet, he practically dragged me forward.

  “Let me go up first and check it out. I’ll haul the packs up with me.”

  I slid the pack from my back and handed it to him. “Hurry, please?”

  “I will,” he said.

  I was nervous about remaining on the ground, firmly believing we stood the best chance of survival by staying together. I watched as he quickly climbed the rickety boards and halfway disappeared through an opening in the floor of the structure above. As quickly as he climbed, he returned down the trunk of the tree, minus the back packs.

  “It’s clear up there. Think you can manage the climb up?”

  I looked up the trunk and nodded. “I should be okay.”

  “A couple of the boards are loose, so keep your hands anchored well. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I grabbed onto one of the boards and tested it before pulling myself up. I gingerly climbed up, favoring my injured ankle, and was glad to finally reach the opening in the floor. Daylight quickly gone, the only light came from the sporadic glow of a new moon as it peeked through clouds. The treehouse was basic: a floor, short walls, and no roof. It would do little to offer protection from the elements but being elevated I hoped it would keep us safe from the dead.

  “Pull yourself up and roll to the right,” he instructed. “There’s a mattress and blankets not far from the hatch.”