And the Blood Ran Black

by Nathan E. Harvey

  “So the truth is, and the way I’m going to say it probably won’t do it any justice, but I really want to express to you…” John paused.

  Brooke stopped mid-stride and turned to look at John who had frozen with glossy, expectant eyes looking past her.

  “… how hungry I am,” John said.

  Only then did Brooke realize that she’d been consumed with anticipation for what John might be leading up to but forced herself to refocus and turn to see that John was staring at a large buck grazing out on the next hillside. She wiped away the moisture from her eyes and whispered that she too was starved.

  “Keep an eye out for zombies,” John whispered as he raised the rifle. “I’m gonna take the shot.”

  John was positive that the bullet had struck its target but feared that he may have missed the kill spot directly behind the buck’s shoulder blade. Fueled with adrenaline, the buck tore off into the woods along the creek and out of sight.

  “Did you miss?” Brooke asked cautiously.

  “A little bit,” John answered. “Now I have to track him down. Hopefully he didn’t go too far.”

  Brooke cursed her decision to wear shorts for the hike when the crisp air of fall had already arrived. She wasn’t cold, now that her blood was flowing, but her legs took a beating as she followed John’s lead across the creek and navigated through a maze of bramble briar, poison ivy, and stinging nettle. The conversation as John tracked the deer was awkward and forced, as John elected not to continue on with his declaration of love until a more convenient opportunity arose. Finally, the periodic blood drops ended at the corpse of the large deer.

  “Make sure you rinse off in the water,” John pointed to the creek. “If you catch it fast enough, the poison ivy won’t be nearly as bad. I’ve always heard it’s water soluble.”

  “And what can I do about the cuts and stinging?” Brooke joked as she splashed water across her bare legs.

  “I think a full belly of venison will help with that,” John grunted as he cut open the deer’s throat and spilled its blood.

  Brooke gagged and directed her attention back to treating her legs. “We can walk back on the other side of the creek, can’t we?” she asked. “It looks a lot more clear on that side.”

  “I don’t see why not,” John answered, as he carefully cut circles in the deer hide just above each hoof. “You might actually want to go ahead over there and keep an eye out while I do this next part.”

  Not requiring any additional details, Brooke took the rifle and waded most of the way across the shallow water where she waited patiently atop a smooth rock.

  After doing her best to not let her gaze wander over to the other bank, Brooke finally heard John’s footsteps approaching in the water. She looked up to see John carefully stepping his way across, while clutching the carcass’s front two legs over his shoulders and the gutted torso dripping all down his back like some kind of repulsive backpack.

  “I think I’ll stay up front and upwind,” Brooke said as she took off walking up the creek.

  John was grateful for an excuse not to talk much on their walk, as he’d lost some of his confidence that Brooke would be interested in any kind of romantic relationship. He caught himself over-analyzing every little comment that Brooke made as they walked and began to psych himself out that putting his feelings out there would be the worst possible thing he could do. John hated himself for thinking such a relationship could ever work in the new world, and plotted how he could get out of the conversation that he had obviously intended to have.

  After his legs told him that they’d traveled a long while, John noticed that the sun was no longer in front of them and that it was starting to descend rapidly.

  “We should be about back by now, right?” Brooke asked from up ahead.

  “Yeah, something’s definitely not right,” John said as he shrugged the deer over onto a rock. “I don’t think the creek was ever quite this deep, and I don’t think we’ve been walking toward the sun for a while now.”

  “How’s that possible, though?” Brooke asked. “We’ve stayed right next to the creek the whole time,” she continued as she walked back to where John was resting. “My God, that smell!”

  “I think we might’ve missed our window on getting this meat cooked,” John said, smelling under his own arms. “And I think we missed our turn. We must’ve come up on a fork that we couldn’t see either coming or going.”

  “All that for nothing? Are you sure we can’t just cook it really good?” Brooke asked while sniffing at the carcass from several feet away.

  “Not the time you want to get food poisoning and dehydrate yourself,” John sighed. “It’s only gonna get worse by the time we find our way back.”

  “Ok, so do we just cross back over and walk southwest until we hit the other little branch of the creek?” Brooke asked.

  “That would make sense, but there’s no guarantee it’d work,” John said as he surveyed their surroundings. “We’ve been walking for a long time in the wrong direction. If we just take off trying to walk in a straight line for several miles with no sun, we’ll just wind up walking in circles and getting even more lost.”

  “So we follow the creek back down? Or we just set up camp right here?” Brooke asked.

  “I’m gonna run up to the top of that hill while there’s still some daylight and see what I can see,” John thought aloud.

  “Ok, Zacchaeus,” Brooke said as she sat. “But hurry back.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  Brooke raised the rifle at the sound of something large quickly approaching from out of the darkness.

  “I found the highway!” John exclaimed.

  “God, you scared me,” Brooke sighed. “What kept you?”

  “Well, I couldn’t really see much through all the brush, so I took your Zacchaeus advice and climbed a tree. The highway we were on isn’t too much farther from the top of the hill. It’s not the safest place ever to hike, but at least it’s a sure thing. If we just follow alongside the road until we get to the spot where the truck wrecked, we can definitely find our way back.”

  “You’re a little too excited about the prospect of hiking for miles in the pitch black. It’s a good idea, but we’re not exactly home free.”

  “I mean, unless you’d rather just wait it out here ‘til sunrise?” John asked.

  “Wait, wait! I knew this would come in handy!” Brooke paused before blinding John with a bright blue light. “I took it off the old couple’s keychain. I was actually gonna give it to Hillary. Thank God I never did.”

  As they walked, Brooke would occasionally conserve her light’s battery by judging the road’s path through the visible stars whenever they weren’t blocked out by the towering trees on either side. The optimism that the truck’s wreckage could be around any turn at any moment diminished and gave way to the fear that they may have already been past the truck, if they were even on the same road. It seemed as though every elevation change was an incline, and their thirst became impossible to ignore. As their hike dragged on, Brooke lost her ability to judge time or distance and the two continued to endure the monotony of one foot in front of the other. Even the mysterious rustlings of leaves from the forest that had previously produced rushes of adrenaline for Brooke had now become monotonous.

  All thoughts of thirst, hunger, and boredom were gone, and a new life was breathed into the two when they came upon a sign that read French Broad River.

  “I know where we are! We’re close!” John exclaimed as loudly as he dared.

  Brooke let out a sigh of relief, and called back to John with heightened spirits, “Did you know this river was named after Joan of Arc?”

  An awkward moment dragged on until Brooke wondered if John had even heard her joke and contemplated calling out to make sure he was still nearby.

  “I actually learned that while studying abroad!” John said, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Wait, you know I was joking, right?” Brooke asked
. “I meant French Broad, like, French chick.”

  “Oh, I know,” John grinned to himself.

  “So what did you mean by…” Brooke stopped walking. “Were you checking me out?!”

  “I’m loving this side of you,” John laughed.

  Brooke turned and put her hands on her hips in contempt.

  “Wait, no. That one wasn’t a pun,” John said. “I promise I meant your sense of humor, not your posterior.”

  “I have my moments,” Brooke smiled back at him. “You should keep finding time to spend with just me. Maybe you’ll finally realize that I’m a pretty decent catch--especially considering your current options.”

  The words alone might not have done it, but the moon had peeked out just enough at just the right time to reveal that kind of look a girl gives a guy that leaves little doubt as to her intentions.

  “And there it is,” Brooke said gleefully as she turned to see the truck’s headlights reflecting her light’s blue glow just before it faded out.

  “Wait, turn that back on,” John said. “I think I saw some movement up there.”

  “I’m trying,” Brooke whispered. “I think it’s dead.”

  “Stay here,” John said before trotting ahead and disposing of the lone zombie with nothing but his buck knife and the fleeting light of the moon.

  “Um, John, do you hear that?”

  John slowed his breathing to listen, and shuddered at what he heard. The sound of numerous hungry dogs from behind the cover of the tree line was obvious. Without further warning, the pack sprinted out onto the road toward them.

  “Get to the car!” John yelled as he reached out toward Brooke with one hand, and swung the butt of his gun toward the sounds of growling with his other. He was surprised when they were actually able to reach the dead couple’s car safely. Squinting, John could see that the dogs had elected to go for the easier meal, and were ripping apart the recently incapacitated zombie.

  “Do you think they’re just hungry?” John whispered. “Or are they infected?

  “John…” Brooke said softly. “One got me.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  “What? Where?” John asked frantically. “Are you bleeding? How bad is it?”

  “Not too bad,” Brooke said. “But it broke the skin. I think I’m infected.”

  “No you aren’t!” John scolded. “Dogs aren’t carriers. You’re gonna be fine.”

  “They’ve been eating zombies, though,” Brooke said in a defeated tone. “They definitely have the virus, or whatever it is, in their mouths from eating the infected.”

  “You don’t know that,” John said. “We’re gonna get you out of this, and you’re gonna be just fine. I just need you to stay calm and focused.”

  “How exactly are we going to get out of here?” Brooke asked him, clutching her hand.

  John sat for a moment without speaking a word. He considered the small round he’d placed in his pocket what seemed like months ago, but couldn’t think of any use for the bullet labeled “Plan B”. He had resources all around him; John just had to put the pieces together into something that would walk them out of the situation without further harm.

  Brooke saw John’s eyes light up, and he sprang into action. First, he grabbed a loose coat from the back seat of the car, and then tugged loose half of the telescoping clothes rod that hung there. He tightly wound and tied the coat around one end of the rod, and then wrapped a second jacket on top of the first.

  “I’ve gotta run out there real quick,” John explained. “I’ll be right back.”

  “John, they’ll smell the deer blood on you. Don’t leave.”

  “I promise,” John said. “I’ll be back before you know it, and then we’re gonna walk right out of here.”

  The look on Brooke’s face told him everything that she was feeling. He cupped her face in his hands and looked calmly into her eyes.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Brooke took a breath. “I trust you.”

  John nodded and crept out of the driver’s seat. He scurried silently over toward the wreckage of the rental truck. Brooke lost sight of him for a while but could tell that most of the dogs were still tearing at the zombie’s corpse. Finally, John reappeared yielding a glowing torch in one hand. He hastily led Brooke from the car and swung the large flame at any dogs that dared to come close. The two rushed as fast as they could down the now familiar path toward their campsite without regard for the possible dangers lurking just out of view.

  “What the hell happened?” Moto’s voice greeted them after Timber’s growling had alerted him of an intrusion.

  “It’s fine. She’s gonna be fine,” John answered as he guided Brooke to the flowing creek.

  “She? What about you? You’re covered,” Sprite said.

  “Brooke?” Hillary was on the verge of tears. “Brooke, are you ok?”

  “We’re both fine,” John said sternly. “Everyone calm down. Somebody bring Brooke some water.”

  Hillary began crying to herself and Moto went to comfort her as Sprite poured some treated water for Brooke. Once things had calmed, John decided to go over to Hillary and apologize for how he’d snapped at her and was relieved to find that Moto had already calmed the young girl, at least until he approached.

  “Ewww,” Hillary exclaimed. “You’re covered in bleed!”

  Laughing, John apologized, “Sorry, sweetie. And I’m also sorry I snapped at you earlier. I’ll go clean up and we’ll talk.”

  John cleaned himself as best he could while sharing his adventure with Moto.

  “Genius,” Moto said. “Wait, how did you get the torch lit?”

  “I just used some diesel from the fuel tank, and lit it with the truck’s cigarette lighter. Thank goodness the battery still had some charge on it.”

  “Well met, man,” Moto said. “I’d still be sitting in that car right now.”

  The two brothers returned to the light of the camp to see that Brooke was sitting off by herself with Sprite and Hillary already sound asleep.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Moto said, slapping John on the back. “Glad you’re ok; we’ll find another deer.”

  John took a brief detour before approaching Brooke, and was glad to see that she had not yet fallen into slumber. He forced a smile even though she didn’t reciprocate and presented some weed-like flowers from behind his back.

  “I’ve been anxious to show these flowers how beautiful you are,” he said.

  Brooke was somewhat annoyed that the gesture forced a smile from her, even though she’d given her best effort to resist. “So you really are a big reader!”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess.” John tried to play it off as he sat next to her.

  “Why are you over here by yourself?”

  “Wait. I call B.S. Tell me the author.” Brooke questioned.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I guess I just heard it somewhere,” John said dismissively. “Stop dodging my other question. Are you okay?”

  Brooke held up one hand to reveal that she’d tethered her arm to a tree.

  “I’m fine. I just think it’d be irresponsible to be optimistic to the point that I endanger any of our group. I refuse to put Hillary’s life in jeopardy if I don’t absolutely have to,” Brooke said.

  “Your hand doesn’t look that bad,” John observed. “And remember how we told you that Moto had his legs completely shredded by zombies in the ocean when the outbreak first started. You really are gonna be ok.”

  “I’m sure you want to believe that, but we still don’t really know the rules of all this. It’s fine, but this is just something I need to do,” Brooke said with a tone that indicated the decision wasn’t up for debate.

  Brooke forced herself to remain stern with John--though she’d developed a youthful butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling each time John continued to live up to her expectations. His presence was the only thing that could distract her from the possibility that her days could be coming to an end. E
ven with the deer’s blood still caked behind John’s ears, Brooke had to make a conscious effort to not smile each time the two made eye contact.

  “Well I can’t stop you from tying yourself up, but I’m not gonna leave you out here by yourself all night,” John said, sitting more closely to Brooke than before.

  Brooke’s hands slid down from her leg and grazed John’s. His initial reaction was to pull away and play it off just in case the gesture hadn’t been intentional. Glancing up to her face revealed that the move was no mistake. It was a look like the one he’d caught on the road earlier, but this time it was obvious that Brooke wanted him to see it. John realized that he was actually smiling, not just on the inside. Trying to look more confident than he felt, John took Brooke’s hand and held it in his own against his leg as he comforted her.

  The two continued to talk well into the night after the others had long since succumbed to sleep. John was exhausted but wouldn’t allow himself to lie down as he knew that Brooke wasn’t going to rest that night.

  “Thank you for staying with me and not letting my imagination run wild,” Brooke said. “I don’t know where I’d be without you, honestly.”

  “Of course; I don’t know where I’d be without you either,” John smiled.

  “Oh, please. Everyone knows you can’t just repeat what the other person already said. That’s totally unfair.”

  “Calm down, at least I brought you flowers!” John said. “I’m doing my best.”

  “AKA weeds,” Brooke said with a laugh, holding up the pathetic bouquet, “and a stolen pickup line to go with it.”

  “But seriously, I meant what I said,” John took a serious tone. “I was tailing off into a pretty dark place before. I caught myself wondering if I’d be better off leaving all the kids and weaker people to fend for themselves. I realized it’s not worth living just for the sake of living, but the rest of the context didn’t really take shape until you. I tried not to like you in that way, believe me. I thought a new love interest in this kind of world would only result in more pain.”