The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection

by Lewis, M. Lauryl

  “What did your dad do?”

  “Oh man. I think that was maybe the worst part; seeing my dad cry. He freaked out. He was terrified. We were too far out for cell service, and there was no one around. He lost it and almost climbed down after me. I was able to talk him into not getting himself stuck too and finally convinced him to go for help. I swear he must have run the two miles back to the trailhead. After about three hours Search and Rescue did their magic and got me out. I was hypothermic and in shock and had lost a bit of blood.”

  “You had a compound fracture? The bone was exposed?”

  “Yeah. It sucked.” I pushed my sleeve up past my elbow and showed him a four-inch scar from where they surgically repaired the open fracture. “It still aches if I get really cold.”

  “Damn,” he said. “How long ago was that?”

  I pulled my sleeve back down and thought. “I was sixteen, so almost ten years ago. Okay. Your turn.”

  “Nope. I’m not breaking my arm.”

  I looked at him, laughing. “Hardee har har!” I said. He chuckled under his breath.

  “Okay, okay. When I was in seventh grade I had a mad huge crush on my science teacher, Miss Bowen. I’d leave her secret admirer notes when no one was looking, but one Friday I got busted.”

  “Who caught you?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

  “Mike…” his thoughts drifted off as he said his best friend’s name.

  I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He shook his head side to side.

  “It’s okay. We can talk about something else.” The mood of the question game was darkened by the gravity of our situation, and by our losses.

  “You done?” he asked, gesturing toward my empty bowl.

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll do the dishes. Do you want to start looking for supplies that might be useful?”

  “Sure. I’ll start in the bathroom.” I desperately needed to empty my bladder but didn’t want to say as much.

  The bathroom cabinet held little in the way of useful items. A bottle of aspirin sat nearly empty in the small medicine cabinet, and I was perplexed on why someone would keep a container of brown shoe polish under the sink.

  Returning to the main room with only a few aspirin in hand, I found Ellis on his knees rummaging through a small closet that I hadn’t noticed before. I walked up behind him and cleared my throat, causing him to hit his head against the door opening.

  “Fuck!” he grumbled under his breath.

  Immediately feeling bad, I knelt down next to him and put my hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry,” I said, the sentiment muffled by my own hand. “Are you okay?” I asked after I let go of my mouth.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was pissed or embarrassed.

  “It’s already swelling.”

  I reached up and lightly touched a lump that was forming on his left temple. He flinched away, and I stilled my hand until he settled. Upon my next attempt, he let me inspect the goose egg. I pouted, feeling responsible. He reached up and covered my hand in his, gently guiding it away. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and gently touched my cheek with his free hand.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I looked at the floor.

  “Poppy, look at me.”

  The truth was I felt horrible and was embarrassed, but figured I at least owed him some eye contact. I looked up.

  “It’s not that bad, and it’s not like you did it on purpose.”

  “Yeah I know. I just feel bad.”

  “Don’t.”

  Realizing he was still holding my hand, I looked away awkwardly.

  “I’m going to look through the bedroom,” I said, changing the subject.

  As I stood, he gave my hand one last squeeze. I knew he was only trying to reassure me that he was okay, but it led to an uncomfortable if not awkward moment of silence and uncertainty. We had literally just met and didn’t know each other. Still, he already felt familiar.

  “Okay,” he said as he let go of my hand.

  I walked back to the bedroom, where I began looking through the drawers. The room wasn’t well lit, but enough daylight streamed in from the single small window above that I hoped to find more than my quick before-bed search the night before. The messiest drawer was the same one I’d found the handgun in. The others each held neatly folded clothes; mostly t-shirts, sweat pants, and socks. One small drawer held neatly folded casual dress pants. I picked out spare clothes for both of us, just one change each, and the only two belts. Possibly the best find of all was an empty backpack. It wasn’t very large, just about the size of a gym bag, but would work well for carrying new supplies.

  I stuffed the to-keep items into the bag and quickly tidied the bed. I looked up when Ellis’ shadow from the doorway alerted me.

  “Need help?” he asked.

  “No. I’ve been through all the drawers. Whoever lives here is a minimalist.”

  “I agree. Find anything good?”

  “A backpack. I put a pair of extra clothes in for each of us.”

  “Great. There’s not much in the kitchen. We have enough food for a few days. We’ll eat the canned food here and pack the lighter things. Honestly the best find was a deck of cards.”

  I looked at him a bit confused. “Cards?”

  “Uh-huh. Wanna play?”

  “Maybe later. If you don’t mind I want to take another quick shower.”

  “Suit yourself, but prepare to be beat at blackjack soon,” he said, followed by a menacing smile.

  “Yeah right,” I taunted as I slipped past him and back into the living room.

  ***

  The hot water finally gone, my shower was brief. When I returned to the living room, Ellis had cards already dealt into piles on the coffee table. I knew he was anxious to play, likely as a distraction to the hell going on around us, but my headache had begun to kick in again and taking a nap was heavily on my mind.

  “Ellis?” I called out quietly, not wanting to be heard through the still-open window.

  He didn’t answer, so I walked into the bedroom.

  “Ellis?” I repeated, finding the room empty aside from furniture and the shoes I had kicked into a corner.

  My heart sank at his absence, my mind suddenly going wild with possibilities of what might have happened to him. I all but ran to the front hatch, which I found ominously unlocked. I forced myself to take a deep breath. Think, I said to myself silently. I looked at the small table beside the hatch. Only one of the bug-out bags remained where we’d set them. “He left me,” I whispered. My fear quickly turned to anger. I unlatched the hatch and stepped out onto the landing. The sky was gray and looked heavy with moisture. I briefly considered going for my shoes and trying to track him, but my ankle wasn’t healed well enough to keep pace. I looked around the clearing. The bodies of the dead were no longer present, causing me to pause and consider.

  Seeing no sign of Ellis, I returned to the safety of the renovated aircraft. I thought about locking the hatch, but let it be in case Ellis came back.

  I searched the remaining bug-out bag, relieved to see my pistol still inside as well as a bottle of water and two cans of corned beef hash, and the clothes I had packed into it earlier. As I contemplated staying or leaving, it didn’t take long to realize that staying only made sense. I was still healing, and my companion might be back; at least I hoped he would return. I zipped the pack closed and sat on the couch. I didn’t have time to waste on anger or worry. I needed a plan of action.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled, not at all excited by the prospect of being on my own amidst the horrors going on around me. “Think, Poppy.”

  The sound of footfalls on the stairway outside caused my heart to race. The pace was fast, if not frantic. I stood, hoping for the best but preparing for a monster. Well before I could reach the lock on the hatch, it flung open and Ellis rushed inside. I watched as he rushed to engage the slide lock.
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br />   “What is it, and where the fuck did you go?” I asked.

  “One of those fucking things,” he answered. “Help me shut the window and then get in the bedroom.”

  I didn’t question him. I limped to the window and slid it shut, quickly locking it. Ellis rushed to me and grabbed my arm as he pulled me to the bedroom.

  “Get on the floor behind the bed. I need room to barricade the door.”

  “What is it?” I asked, not understanding the urgency.

  “It’s strong. I’m not sure the windows will keep it out.”

  He was already manhandling the bed, pushing it in front of the door. I made sure I was out of the way while he worked. He was shaky and pale. A bone-chilling noise pierced the quiet of the room. It was half-scream and half-fury, and immediately followed by the cracking of glass, bending of metal, and splintering of wood.

  “Did it just tear through a window?” I mouthed.

  Ellis looked at me. I hadn’t seen terror in his eyes until that moment. The screeching of whatever it was continued, followed by now-familiar clicking. Ellis held his finger up to his lips and I nodded. The smell of fresh blood and rotten meat was strong enough to creep in under the door, and I had to hold my hand over my mouth to keep from gagging. We kept our eyes locked on each other and I wondered if he felt my fear as I felt his. I crawled to where he sat on the floor and let him wrap his arms around me. If we were going to die, it might as well be together.

  Once the creature reached the bedroom door, it stopped and breathed heavily. I closed my eyes and willed it to go away.

  “Where’s your gun?” he whispered in my ear.

  “By the hatch,” I replied, as quietly as possible.

  “Fuck.”

  “Where’s yours?”

  “That fucker jumped me. I lost the gun and barely got away.”

  “There’s no way out,” I whispered, stating the obvious.

  He stroked my hair. “I know.”

  The creature on the other side of the door began frantically trying to break in. The sound of wood splintering made me nauseous and the subsequent growl made me wish for a quick death.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Ellis, his voice catching on itself.

  The smell of the creature was overwhelming. Knowing it had breached the room, I closed my eyes, not wanting to see it. I shrank against Ellis as best I could and held my breath. The sound of a single gunshot caused us both to jump. The growling and advancing of the creature immediately ceased.

  “Hey, you guys okay in there?” called a man’s voice.

  I was still too scared to open my eyes.

  “It’s okay,” Ellis soothed. “He’s human.”

  “We heard the racket and thought you might need help,” the man continued.

  “We sure as hell did. Thanks,” replied Ellis, who still held me.

  “My buddy and I have been tracking that bastard for the better part of a day.”

  I slowly opened my eyes, but kept my sights set on Ellis. “I don’t want to see it…whatever it was.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll help haul this thing’s ass outside,” said Ellis.

  I nodded and turned away while he stood up and they dragged the dead body outside. My arms were shaking, and my chest felt tight. I drew my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs; it was something I used to do when I was a very little girl and got scared. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, which was made difficult by the smell of death and decay. In the background I heard male voices. Ellis. The man who had asked if we were okay. Someone new. The hatch opening and closing again. Heavy footfalls – boots, maybe.

  “Poppy, can you come out here?” Ellis called out.

  I knew I had to buck up and pull myself out of the cloud of fear that currently consumed me. I took another deep breath, opened my eyes, and shakily called back.

  “Yup.”

  I pushed myself up, wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, and I limped out of the room.

  Ellis stood in the living room with two other men. One was about the same height as Ellis, the other a bit shorter. Both wore long camo pants and combat style boots and matching heavy-weight jackets that looked well suited to cold temperatures. The taller of the two was fair with short blonde hair and a thick medium-length ginger beard. The other was dark-skinned with straight black hair pulled into a low ponytail. I thought he might be Native or Hispanic and his large brown eyes were kind.

  “Ma’am,” the man with the ginger beard said.

  The shorter man held a hand out, which I reluctantly took. “I’m Braylen.”

  “Poppy.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said the taller man. “I’m Matt.”

  “Thanks for the help,” said Ellis, offering his own hand. “Ellis.”

  “We’d been tracking that thing for hours. You can’t get too close or they smell you. We saw you in the meadow and watched it watching you.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “We’re not really sure. It’s the second one we’ve come across. Most of them are slow; the dead I mean. But we’ve seen these two, one that was fast as hell, and a couple of crazy people we think were half alive and half dead,” said Matt. “If that’s even possible.”

  I looked sideways at Ellis. “The witch.”

  He furrowed his brow as if confused.

  “The woman in the woods yesterday,” I clarified before looking back at the two newcomers. “It was an old lady who seemed loonier than a tune. She followed us here with two men who were slower and without a doubt dead and rotting. I guess I’ve just been thinking of her as a witch.”

  “Sounds similar to what we’ve seen,” added Braylen.

  “We need to get that broken window of yours sealed up,” suggested Matt.

  “You guys have a hammer and nails for the window?” Braylen asked.

  I looked at Ellis.

  “I saw a hammer in the closet off the kitchen and a few nails in the drawer next to the sink,” he said.

  “I’ll grab them,” I said.

  “Got anything we can use to patch it?” asked Matt.

  “Maybe a cabinet door from the bathroom or kitchen,” I suggested.

  “I’ll take a cabinet door off,” said Ellis.

  “No. I can do that,” I said.

  “You know how?”

  I looked at Ellis wondering if he was serious. “Of course.”

  While all three men worked at removing chunks of torn material from where the creature had breached the bulkhead, I retrieved the tools from the kitchen. I was glad to make myself busy. I opted for a lower kitchen cabinet door after comparing them to the one in the bathroom. The kitchen cabinets were made of solid wood while the bathroom vanity was a thin veneer. Removing the pins from the hinges was easy and by the time the men had smoothed the bulkhead surface, I had the wood and tools ready to cover the broken window. The small room quickly grew crowded, so I excused myself while Ellis and Matt placed the wood over the opening.

  I headed to the kitchen and stood at the sink where I busied myself washing a drinking glass that Ellis must have left in the sink.

  “How long have you two been here?”

  Surprised, I turned to find the man named Braylen leaning against the counter.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s okay. We just found it yesterday. We’re hoping to stay until my ankle’s healed.”

  “What happened to your ankle?”

  “I just twisted it in the woods.”

  “What about your head? That’s a nasty laceration and bruise.”

  I absently reached up to the wound on my temple. “I’m not sure I want to talk about it.”

  “Okay. Sorry to ask, but I need to. Your guy in there...did he do this to you? You can answer honestly.”

  I looked at him, puzzled. “Ellis? He’s just a friend, and no. I was in a car accident. He actually pulled me out of the car; he saved me.”

  Braylen nodded. “O
kay.”

  The conversation was awkward, but it was nice that he was concerned about my safety.

  “Bray,” called out Matt.

  The dark-haired man stood upright and began walking back to the living room. I followed him, curious as to the status of the window. Ellis was holding the cabinet door in place while Matt manhandled a screw driver.

  “What’s up, bro?” asked Braylen.

  “You’re the carpenter. Come look at this.”

  I sat on the couch and put my foot up on a pillow. “Let me know if you guys need help,” I said.

  Ellis winked at me while Braylen inspected the work his buddy was attempting.

  “It’s not going to hold with the wood splitting like that,” explained Braylen.

  “No shit, Sherlock. What’s the fix?” asked Matt.

  “Different wood. This one’s from the kitchen?”

  “Yeah,” I added to the conversation. “The ones in the bathroom seem flimsy.”

  “Ellis, mind grabbing one from the john? Flimsy or not it may be our best option.” asked Braylen.

  “Already on it.”

  I was relieved. My ankle ached, and I didn’t want to walk on it. I watched the others work and wondered about the two newcomers.

  “Did you guys know each other before all this?” I asked.

  Matt set the split cabinet door against the bulkhead while Braylen answered me.

  “We worked together at Costco. What’s it been now, Matt? Four years?”

  “Yeah, a little more than four. What about you two?”

  “We just met the day the other day.”

  “Son of a bitch,” came Ellis’ strained voice from the bathroom.

  “You okay in there?” called out Matt.

  “Yeah, I just jammed a flathead into my thumb.”

  “Look,” said Braylen, his voice tense.

  “What is it, bro?” asked Matt, instantly alert.

  Ignoring my ankle, I swung my legs over the edge of the small sofa and stood up. Ellis reached the opening in the bulkhead only a moment after I did.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Look to about ten o’clock. There’s a figure just inside the tree line,” answered Matt.

  “How many?” asked Braylen, who I noticed already held his rifle.