“Let it go,” shouted Ellis, over the howl of the wind. “There’s too many behind us…”
He grabbed onto my elbow and I looked at him. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and time itself seemed to speed around us. The effect was dizzying. Falling rain picked up in intensity, chilling me to the core. Ellis’ chest was streaked with mud, his eyes wild and pleading. I nodded just enough to signal my readiness to flee.
He grabbed my hand and wove his fingers through mine. We took only a moment to survey our surroundings, desperate for a way out. Along one side of the lot stood a chain link fence that lay partially collapsed. In the far corner, next to a neighboring building, sat a pile of old pallets and scrap wood. Infected approached from every direction so we sprinted toward the fallen portion of fence. Wet grass and mud made the path slippery. Someone screamed in agony just behind us, stopping me in my tracks. I lost my footing in the mud and fell to my knees, landing hard. Quick to pull me back to my feet, Ellis shouted to be heard over thunder that rolled overhead.
“Don’t look back!”
Ignoring Ellis’ warning, I dared to look back over my shoulder. Matt stood at the edge of a crowd of the dead. Holding his pistol aimed at the ground in front of him, his free hand pulled at the hair on his head as if he were going crazy. The dead were piling on top of each other, swarming something. My stomach dropped when I realized that “something” was Braylen. His screams continued, full of desperation to live.
“Matt, you have to move!” screamed Ellis.
Matt took a step backward and brought the heel of his armed hand to his temple, clearly struggling with what to do.
“He’s gone, Matt! There’s nothing you can do!” shouted Ellis.
I watched on as one of the infected took notice of Matt. It slowly crawled forward, struggling to move amongst the weight of the others that formed the animated heap of corpses. Its face twisted into a snarl of pure evil. Fresh blood smeared its sickly pale face. Ellis tugged at my arm, urging me to continue toward the partially collapsed fence. Matt raised his pistol and fired at the creature; at such close range, the bullet left its ugly mark by taking out the monster’s left eye and part of its forehead. He took a step closer to the undulating pile of dead. I wanted to scream at him but found I couldn’t make a sound. He aimed toward the creatures, waiting for something. Seconds dragged painfully on until at last he fired the shot. Braylen’s screaming ended as soon as the bullet found him, and the mound of dead turned their focus back to the living.
“Fuck,” grumbled Ellis.
I looked at him with concern.
“We have to go,” I said quickly.
“Matt! Over the fence!” Ellis barked.
At last Matt broke free of his emotional prison. He turned and ran toward us. I turned around and ran with Ellis at my side. My hair clung in wet clumps to my neck and face. I wiped some away from my eyes as we ran. Matt passed us right as we approached the collapsing chain link panel, clambering over quickly in order to help us. I grabbed his hand without hesitation, eventually rolling onto the ground on the other side. Ellis landed more gracefully using both feet. Already vertical again, I grabbed onto his hand as we fled between two brick buildings. The distance between us and the dead who feasted on Braylen grew. I flinched when my bare foot landed on something sharp, but I didn’t stop. Trash was strewn about, and rain puddled wherever the concrete dipped. The end of the alley led to a main street. Our only options were to go left or right, and since left held fewer dead shambling about we opted for that path. Matt tucked his pistol into his waistband as we ran. An SUV that was left abandoned mid-tire-change rested on the left-hand side of the street. I slowed only long enough to pick up an abandoned tire iron that still sat in the road. The first living dead to cross our new path lay in the center of the road. It was not much more than a torso with a head and arms, considering its midsection was flattened and partly separated. Loops of bowel spewed from it, some of them still intact while some sections had burst open. I nearly gagged at the smell of partially digested food, feces, and blood. The creature reached up as we ran past, snarling. Its eyes were still too-human, containing the last spark of life. I shivered, realizing it had been recently run over and likely while it was still alive.
“There,” huffed Ellis as he nodded in the direction of a building that had far too many windows for comfort. “It’s our best shot.”
“The auto parts store?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s better than being out here in the storm with these dead fuckers.”
“I’ll go find a way in,” said Matt.
“We shouldn’t split up,” I reminded him.
“You don’t have shoes, and he’s half naked,” Matt said matter-of-factly, nodding toward Ellis. “I’m faster, and I’ll be in sight the entire time.”
“Okay. But take the tire iron with you,” I said.
After accepting the makeshift weapon, he sprinted ahead of us, crossing the street. A small figure approached him, its speed slow like the dead. I began to move forward to help, but Ellis caught me by the elbow.
“He’s got it,” he said. “We need to make our way to the building.”
Matt didn’t wait for the creature to make its way to him; he deviated from his path and met it half way. Bringing the tire iron over his head, he slammed it down against the creature’s skull. It fell to the ground in a heap; Matt continued to hit the body, his anger impossible to ignore. By the time we reached the storefront, Matt ceased his assault and walked toward us. Lightning streaked overhead, leaving behind an unexpected faint yellow glow.
“Let’s get inside,” I yelled over the sound of thunder. “Before more of them show up.”
Together we focused on the front door of the auto store. A single bloody handprint stained the glass window beside the entryway. A chill ran up my spine, raising the hairs at the nape of my neck. A shadow moved in one of the aisles, catching my attention. By the time I turned my gaze toward it, all was still.
“Something’s inside,” I said quickly.
“We’ll deal with it once we’re in,” said Ellis.
Matt pushed on the door handle, and to our surprise it opened inward. A small bell tied to the top of the door jingled, breaking the heavy silence within the store. Matt glanced at us and nodded once before stepping inside. The sound of the storm outside faded as Ellis closed the door behind us.
“I don’t smell anything,” I whispered.
“Just tires,” mumbled Ellis.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “I meant the dead.”
“I know,” Ellis responded.
We stood just inside the entryway of the store quietly listening. Matt quietly handed the tire iron over to me. I took it hesitantly, my hand settling on fresh blood from the recent kill. Rain beat against the front windows, the sound a steady tapping. It nearly masked the small scuffling coming from somewhere to our left. Rows of auto parts and a rack of bottles of motor oil hid whatever was making the sound. Matt put a finger to his lips and signaled that he was going to move forward. I tensed. Ellis placed a hand on my shoulder and leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“If it was dead, it would have attacked us already.”
I nodded. My heart pounded against my chest wall and I grew increasingly uneasy. We watched as Matt held his pistol in front of him and carefully swept three aisles. Ellis quietly picked up a large wrench from the front counter and matched Matt’s technique checking aisles to our right.
“Stand up!” shouted Matt, causing me to jump.
“Please don’t shoot, mister! Please don’t shoot us!”
The sound was that of a young boy whose voice had yet to change.
“Just stand up, kid,” said Matt.
I watched as he backed up toward the cash registers and carefully lowered his gun as a show of good faith.
“Come on out. We’re not here to hurt you,” said Matt.
“It’s just me and my gram,” said the boy who I had yet to lay eyes upon. “She’
s really sick.”
“Where is she?” asked Matt.
“In the store room. In the back. Everyone else left us two days ago because she keeps getting weaker and weaker. We’re almost out of food and she’s in so much pain.”
I walked to Matt’s side. The boy he was speaking with was halfway down the accessory aisle, standing next to steering wheel covers and floor mats.
“I’m Poppy. This is Matt. Our friend Ellis is on the other side of the store. We’re not going to hurt anyone; we just need shelter. We have a little food and some water we can share.”
“I’m C…C…Connor,” the boy stammered.
He was small and wiry, and his clothes were filthy. I guessed his age to be around twelve, if not younger.
“Connor, can you take us to your grandma?” I asked.
“Yeah, I guess. Okay.”
“Hey,” said Ellis, who appeared at the far end of the aisle. His sudden presence startled Connor.
“It’s okay, he’s our friend,” I said quickly.
“We need to get away from the windows,” was all the boy said in reply.
“Okay. Let’s go have a look at your grandma and see if we can help,” said Matt.
“She’s asleep, so you have to be quiet when you go into the room,” warned Connor.
We followed him to the back room, where he carefully turned the door knob and stepped inside. The room was alarmingly dark and the smell that emanated brought bile to the back of my throat. My gut told me something was wrong, and I stopped short of entering the dark space. My two companions also stopped.
“Connor, do you have a light in there?” asked Ellis, keeping his voice quiet.
“Yeah. Hang on and I’ll turn my flashlight on.”
We waited while Connor entered the dark room and fumbled his way to wherever he kept his flashlight. Sounds of slow deep breathing came from within the room, which I assumed was his grandmother. It didn’t take long for Connor to find his small flashlight, and a subsequent weak beam of light danced along the walls. I stepped into the room first, directly followed by Ellis and Matt. Cardboard boxes were stacked neatly to our right, forming a wall of sorts. As soon as we walked past them, I saw Connor on his knees beside a short cot. The floor was littered with old food wrappers, soda pop cans, and dirty towels. Flies buzzed above the cot, where a wisp of a woman lay on top of the covers. She wore a thin nightshirt, which was heavily soiled, and a disposable adult diaper that had obviously gone unchanged in days. Urine and feces formed a puddle beneath her. I covered my nose with my hand, gagging.
“Connor, how long has she been like this?” asked Matt.
“Maybe three days,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno for sure.”
“We need to clean her up,” I said as I struggled not to gag.
“Son, what’s her name?” asked Ellis.
“Annie Wahl.”
I stepped closer to the old woman and knelt beside her. Her legs were alarmingly skeletal, and her arms not any better. Her fingers were swollen and contorted from arthritis. While she appeared to be asleep, her wrinkled face bore a scowl, her lips dry and cracked and parted just enough to expose yellowed teeth and clumps of dried secretions. Most alarmingly, her thigh bore the imprint of human teeth. While she was pale, the bite mark was swollen and red with infection.
“Dear God,” I mumbled under my breath. “Connor, when did this happen to her leg?” I asked as I looked over my shoulder at the boy.
“Just before the others left us. One of those people got into the store and attacked her. Dawson – he’s my friend Allen’s stepdad – got the guy off her, but Gram was in her wheelchair and couldn’t fight back before it bit her.” The boy looked as if he might cry.
“And they just left you guys here?” asked Matt.
Connor nodded. “Yeah. Allen tried to talk me into going with them, but I couldn’t leave Gram. She can’t take care of herself.”
“How old are you, son?” asked Ellis.
“I just turned eleven last month.” His young eyes filled with tears.
“And where are your parents?” I asked.
The boy looked down at his lap, growing quiet. “They didn’t make it.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that.” I knee-walked along the floor to his side and put my hand on his.
“Connor, your Gram doesn’t look good. I’m not sure there’s anything we can do except make her more comfortable.”
The boy looked up and spoke very matter-of-factly. “I know. But…”
“But what, sweetie?” I asked.
“Well, Dawson suggested we help her go faster. I said no, but now I wonder.”
My heart broke at his words.
Ellis joined me, crouching down to face Connor.
“You understand what that means?”
Connor nodded. “I know.” A tear fell down his cheek.
I looked at Matt, who still stood near the entry to the room. His expression left me wondering what was going through his mind.
“We can sleep on it,” said Ellis. “We can clean her up a bit so she’s more comfortable and decide what to do in the morning.”
“Okay,” said Connor. “How would you do it?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“Pills maybe. Something to just help her go to sleep and not wake up,” I said.
“Would it hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, offering the poor kid a glimmer of hope.
“I didn’t tell the others, but there’s a bag with some medication in one of the boxes. I hid it there, so they wouldn’t take it.”
“That was clever of you,” said Ellis. “You can show it to me later and I’ll see what all you have.”
***
Cleaning Mrs. Wahl was limited as we only had a few bottles of water, but we stripped her dirty clothes and diaper off and wiped away what we could. The cot was the only place for her to rest other than the hard floor, so we covered it in old newspaper Matt found behind a desk in an isolated corner. Leaving her naked seemed cruel, so I covered her the best I could with faux wool seat-covers from a shelf in the store. She was hot with fever and perspiring, which only added to the putrid smell. While I felt terrible for the woman, I found myself hoping she’d die to end her misery, and ours.
With as much of the soiled material removed from the room as possible, Ellis sprayed a can of air freshener from the employee bathroom trying to cover up the perma-stench left behind by human waste and body odor. It resulted in a lavender-poop smell. Connor was the first to fall asleep. His small frame curled into itself on the floor beside his grandmother, his only padding a flattened cardboard box. Ellis’ back was still healing from road-rash, and he remained shirtless. While I remained shoeless, Connor’s box of hidden medications included a first aid kit, which provided some Neosporin and a bandage wrap for my wounded sole. Ellis found a display of Seahawks socks and random souvenirs near the front cash register when he was scavenging, and I gladly accepted a pair of the socks.
Matt hadn’t said much since losing Braylen, and I worried he was bottling up his emotions. He sat on a piece of cardboard in the corner sorting through the items Connor had hidden using light from a candle.
“Motrin, antacids, and an antidepressant. Nothing much useful here,” he muttered.
“What’s in the black zipper case?” I asked.
“No idea. I haven’t looked yet.”
“Toss it over?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
He tossed it gently to me, and I caught it in my left hand. As soon as I unzipped the side, I knew what it was.
“Someone was diabetic,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake Connor. “It’s a blood sugar monitoring thingie.”
“You sure?” asked Ellis.
“Positive. Karly…” I began, choking on her name.
He scooted closer to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“It’s all here. Test strips, lancets, and emergency insulin. We could use it…” my voic
e trailed off.
“For what?” asked Matt.
“For Mrs. Wahl. It would drop her blood sugar, and she’d probably just slip away.”
“Oh fuck,” said Ellis. “Are we really thinking about doing that?”
“I think we have to,” added Matt. “I mean look at her. She’s suffering, and there’s nothing we can do to make her better.”
“Even if we had pills, I don’t think we could get her to take anything. She’d choke or something.”
“We can decide in the morning. We owe Connor the night, to let him say good-bye,” said Ellis with a yawn. “Let’s sleep for a bit.”
“You guys go ahead. I’ll stay awake and keep watch,” offered Matt.
“No, man. The door’s locked. We can all sleep,” said Ellis with another yawn.
“Yeah. Sure,” said the other man.
Ellis settled in, lying on his side to spare his raw back. I curled up next to him, using his arm to support my head. My stomach growled, but I was too exhausted to suggest we eat before sleeping. Once Matt blew the candle out and darkness enveloped us, I closed my eyes. Ellis’ breathing slowed and deepened, signaling that sleep had claimed him. I felt the fingers of sleep gripping onto me as well but managed to mumble a last question.
“Who will do it?”
“I guess me,” said Matt. “I’ve already killed once today…”
Chapter Sixteen
I opened my eyes abruptly but was unable to see in the dark. A hand gripped my upper arm painfully.
“Shh,” Ellis whispered next to my ear. “Stay still.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
The Rotten Series (Book 1): Infection Page 17
