by catt dahman
With a deep breath, she slid the razor-sharp steak knife into the right ventricle of the man’s heart to do the most damage so he wouldn’t recover. She removed the knife immediately, stepping back so the wound could gush; she was out of reach while he thrashed and moaned once. It was fast.
She then stabbed at him a few more times to see how hard it would have been if she hadn’t researched it on the Internet first. This could have gone either way. In all, this was merciful. She didn’t torture him, and she didn’t leave him to be eaten alive while he denied their existence or accused them of not gathering trash.
Hannah snickered. She was fascinated.
She went to Tracie’s room and opened the door; the room greeted her like a trip to Wonderland in comparison to Hannah’s own, plain room. Hand painted teddy bears cavorted on the walls in various poses and outfits, complete with realistic looking bows. A fancy lighted cabinet housed glass bear figurines; another cabinet was for the fake, but expensive princess crowns. A dressing table with pretty bottles and powders set on a silver tray while drapes and a comforter in rose silks decorated the windows and bed, and an expensive rose and pale green rug covered the floor next to the bed. Shelves of bears and books, a walk-in closet full of expensive clothing, and boxes over flowing with toys completed the room.
In one corner was a giant teddy bear that sat five feet tall. The light was filmy and soft, making it look like a fantasy room complete with a chair, along one wall that looked just like a throne with its satin, rosy seat and tall back.
“Where’s Mommmmmmm?” Tracie demanded.
“She’ll be busy a while.”
“Get me a cold drink of water. No juice. Both.” Tracie wrinkled her nose. “What is all over you? You’re messy. Messy people are not allowed in my room. Get my juice.”
“Get it yourself, spoiled brat. I have things to do,” Hannah said as she turned to leave. Let the big monsters get this little monster and see who makes it out alive. For some reason, Hannah figured Tracie might win with just the whining.
“You have no manners,” Tracie said, “Mommmmmmm.”
It sounded just like Mom was yelling at her again. No manners?
Manners?
In anger, Hannah jumped at the bed with the knife, intending to cut off every bit of the princess’s blonde hair and to shave Tracie bald to teach her about manners and payback for being such a brat. It was about time she got knocked off her self-appointed throne. Tracie slapped at Hannah, impaling her own hand and screeching in whooping gulps. Oops. Should have gotten scissors.
Hannah reached out to see the wound and help the child, but Tracie clamped her fingernails right down, pinching her with glee. Before Hannah could think, she slapped the little girl back in the bed, climbed on her, and swung the knife wildly.
It was only a few seconds until Hannah could think rationally again, and when she saw what she did, the really only humane action was to go ahead and cut the child’s throat, putting her out of her misery. It was not as if she planned this part. In fact, she thought about leaving the spoiled brats to their own devices and let karma have its due.
After that, Hannah finished off her little brother, a little easier with far less of a fight as she simply tied up loose ends. He couldn’t survive the apocalypse anyway and would be eaten by zombies, so this really was more of a kindness than anything else, she decided.
In many ways, all of this was far kinder than if they faced the hungry monsters; by all accounts, they were out there, hunting for flesh right then. Hannah thought she was pretty merciful if anyone looked at it from the right perspective. He had no chance.
After a hot shower with plenty of soap, Hannah dressed and finished her Pepsi and moved the chest of drawers so it covered her window. She went back and moved a few things that weren’t too heavy so they blocked the windows of the house, made sure the doors were locked, and went to her room for sleep.
“Dear God, it’s me, Hannah. I kind of snapped today. You and I both know Mom would have beaten me senseless, and Dad would have killed me. If I waited around, I would have been eaten by those things going around the block as Dad would…so it was pretty humane and kind if you think about it. The kids were accidents really, and we didn’t want them to be eaten, right? So, I hope you and I are cool because I did what seemed best at the time. I know in the real world, I would be sent to jail even though I could argue for myself that I’m not all emotionally okay. We know I have my moments. Anyway, it’s okay about the zombies; I know you didn’t do it. So we won’t blame one another, okay? Thanks. Hannah out and Amen.”
In the morning, there would be more to do, but one thing she would not be doing right now was walking around the block with her father in an attempt to prove the news reports wrong.
She sighed.
6
Everyone Else
In a hospital at one side of the city, people gathered not because they were sick, but to help the few doctors and nurses that were left or because there was nowhere else to go. Some donated blood or helped in the cafeteria or even ran the laundry to help the patients.
Few Red patients were there as the CDC told them to relocate people to Rescue Stations, but no nurses or doctors or military were left healthy or without their own families sick, so there was only one Rescue Station, and thousands of patients were sent home to die.
The military was at the hospital, keeping sick people out at gunpoint or were at the National Guard Armory with a separate set of orders for taking in a few patients. Healthy people could come in, but no infected patients were taken. A cowboy with reddish hair sat at a table and talked with a dark haired beauty, who resembled Demi Moore.
The military no longer communicated orders; only limited information and few supplies came in at all.
In one neighborhood, an older man and his three friends from back in the day were helping doing some yard work as they waited to see what was real and what was media hype. They once were police officers but were long retired and long useless. In a short time, they would find that their training with weapons and their calm temperaments would help save many people and that they would be very useful again.
In another area, three men walked out of prison, not as freed men, but because the few guards who were not sick or with family were over powered, and the prisoners took over.
Many prisoners were also sick, dead, or deadish in their cells. Some stayed locked away and were forced to kill a cellmate when the man woke from a coma and attacked. Some killed the ones in comas before they awakened. The entire prison smelled of feces, urine, vomit, blood, and rotting flesh. Most of the convicts who were in for lesser crimes fled but would gather again like birds coming home to roost, joining their kind in a large, new army of their own making.
One of the three men who walked out would initially form the army that would change leadership a few times until the rightful owner came along.
Another would be plowed under a speeding car when the occupants tried to flee from a hungry horde following them. Of course, the occupants also would die in the crash.
The third man, Frank, would attempt to find plenty of drugs and discover a taste for human flesh, even while he was human and not infected, before he went to lead the army.
He was evil chaos set loose.
Some people in their homes tended their family members, hoping that the news was false and that no one would really turn into mindless killing machines.
Some, knowing the stories were all true, left their houses to find better shelter against what they knew was coming. Others tried both approaches: tended the patients but prepared so that as soon as their family members went into comas or awoke as monsters, they could lock them away and have a safe place to hide in the home. Others took their own lives.
Some ignored most of what was happening and went on as best they could: cooking, sleeping, swimming, and waiting for the problems to be over and for someone to clean up the messes so life could go on as normal.
A few jewelry
shops were looted, but one couldn’t eat a gold ring, shoot a platinum watch, nor soothe a wound with a diamond.
A man walked into the pharmacy at the hospital for some pain reliever; he had a hell of a headache, and said that if he saw another news program, he was going to scream. Everyone had plenty to say, and the news people kept explaining what they thought the virus was and how it was spread.
Then, there were shouts of zombies attacking people, and then others would say it wasn’t real. Reporters announced that this country and that country had fallen; the situation was all chaos.
The part that drove him crazy was that the ‘powers’ in the United States received warnings of what was coming. This was the country with the most resources, and yet, the talking heads told people to stay home, lock away those who were ill, beat them in the head, and kill them if they attacked. They continued to remind people that bites spread the contagion and that hospitals were closed to everyone. There were no Rescue Stations; kiss your ass goodbye. That was it.
That message essentially gave people zero hope and told people to kill their family by hitting them in the head, which was the correct way to take one of the infected out, but useless for parents and others who would never do that to their loved ones. Telling people that going the route of saying ‘lock them away and having no further contact’ would have been a much better tactic.
But Len wasn’t in charge.
He was disturbed in hearing that there would be no help from the National Guard or military as the soldiers were ill, too.
He served ten years in the Marine Corps and was proud of that. Maybe those with prior service would be the ones to help the rest. He felt as if he should help all he could since he was still, in his mind, making up for some bad karma.
Ten years before, he went to visit his little sister in Florida. Tammy had a daughter, Sami, but the no-account dad was in jail for drug trafficking. Len spent his time repairing things around her house, detailing her vehicle, and getting her new tires, and being a good big brother. Tammy had a boyfriend who came around a lot but sure as hell hadn’t done any work for Tammy. His name was Andre, and he was a piece of trash.
“Yo…got dis crib lookin’ good, Lenny,” he said.
Len rolled his eyes. “Does it hurt your jaw to talk like that?”
“Disrespecting me?”
“Laughing at the way you talk; it sounds foolish; you wanna talk to me, then, talk normal.”
Andre glared for a minute, but Tammy was watching, and he shrugged.
“Okay, we’ll talk white.”
Len sighed, “If you think that’s what it is, I say it’s talking in standardized English and sounding intelligent.”
Andre sat in front of the television and drank 8-Ball until he passed out on the sofa. Len told Tammy she could do better. He almost packed up and left in disgust, but Tammy wanted him to stay a while.
“What’s this slop?” Andre demanded at dinner the next night.
“It’s enchiladas,” Tammy said.
“It’s shit.”
Len thought it was pretty good. He had made the salsa and margaritas.
“Maybe Lenny needs to teach you to cook.”
Tammy jumped up in a fury and ran to her bedroom. Andre followed, and they began yelling. Len tuned it out and played board games with Sami; she kicked his ass in Candy Land.
Len put Sami to bed, and she cried as she did every night, begging to stay up and not having to get in her bed. He struggled for patience and talked to her a while, getting her to tell him all of her fears and worries.
When Len climbed in his own bed, he stared at the ceiling a very long time. The room was quiet again,
In the morning, he was much more subdued, and he worked extra hard painting for Tammy and repairing her porch. Tammy appeared at noon, sporting a black eye that she claimed was from running into the bathroom wall. She wouldn’t meet Len’s eyes, and to let her save face, he didn’t push it. He was in his own world, a new place for him where emotion was put away and where he was cold and calm.
Andre acted as if nothing happened and was extra sweet and complimentary to Tammy and paid a lot of attention to Sami. “Prettiest ladies I know,” he said of them.
“You said something the other day…about hunting gators?” Len asked.
“Awe, I go out sometimes, and we get one…sell it…it’s pretty fun, and we drink beer…make a night of it….”
“Not legal, huh?”
“Shit no. But we be careful and don’t get the po-po on us….”
“I’ve never caught a gator…not sure I wouldn’t freak out and piss my pants,” Len said.
“It do take some talent; it’s all good though.”
“I wish I was staying longer…sounds like fun,” Len said, “as it is, wouldn’t mind a few hours away from Tammy; she’s awful sassy at times; don’t know how you stand it, Andre; you’re a better man than me.”
“You gotta show ‘em who the king is and not put up with that shit. She gets sassy, and I bring her down.”
“I can see that. Man…hunting gators…you must have some good times….”
“I bet I could get my homie, K-Man, and use his boat, and we could go hunt a gator.”
“No shit? I’d like to go hunting, and I’ll spring for the beer…or Hennessey if you’d like…that work for ya?”
Andre slapped Len on his back. “That’ll work Len-Dawg. Let me call him.”
Len got things together and told Tammy he and Andre were going out; she looked suspicious but didn’t say anything.
Len followed them out to the low areas to a boggy lake, hunting prohibited. Len said he might want to go back before they did, so Len parked close to them. “Gonna rain tomorrow,” he noted. They got into the boat and shoved off. Andre said he knew a spot real close.
There, they drank Hennessey and watched for gators. Andre explained that when they found one, they would harpoon it right behind the head, then hold it, and tire it out. He had a bang stick to be used underwater to dispatch it. Then, they would use duct tape to wrap the mouth closed, just in case, and haul it aboard.
Len asked how to hold the harpoon, and Andre and K-Man showed him. Len made jabbing motions at the water as practice.
In one smooth motion, Len slammed the harpoon into Andre’s gut and dropped both the harpoon and Andre into the bottom of the boat so he could yank his knife free and slice it across K-Man’s throat. Andre was dying, bleeding out, and in pain since his stomach acids were eating into his wound.
Len smiled calmly. “That’s for my sister’s black eye and for every time you hit her or every time you mistreated her. But mainly, it’s for Sami; she finally told me why she is terrified to go to sleep; you come in and touch her. She never told anyone else, but I know, and you son of a bitch, you won’t do it again, will you?”
“Help me,” Andre begged.
“Fuck you,” Len told him and sliced his throat. It was very messy to cut the men up, but a machete helped. Len grew tired after a while, but it didn’t matter since the blood and body parts attracted gators who fed happily.
Len tossed the rest to the gators and used the trawling motor to get some distance away where the gators weren’t so numerous. He knocked holes in the boat and sank it so it would slip to the bottom of the swamp in the mud.
Exhausted, Len swam through the nasty water until he got back to where the cars were. He left Andre’s car alone; let people think he vanished in the swamp. He drove back and got to Tammy’s at daybreak. He fell asleep.
Tammy couldn’t get Andre on the phone the next day, and Len said he was really drunk so maybe he was sleeping it off. A few days later, Tammy was beginning to wonder and asked Len if anything happened.
He shrugged. “Gutted a couple of gators is all.”
A week afterwards, she came out and asked him, “What did you do to Andre?”
“Me? I’m not like that, Tams, but I feel…and this is a guess on my part…I feel he won’t be coming back with his drugs
and lazy ass. I think you’ll get sober now, and no one…certainly not Andre, will be hitting you again….”
“Oh, my God, Len,” Tammy brushed hair out of her face, “what did you do?”
“And I assure you Andre won’t be putting my niece to bed and touching her inappropriately.”
“What? Sami? No…Len…no….”
“Oh, yes, Tammy, that’s why she screams and throws fits at bedtime; he’s been touching her. You get her some therapy; I’m leaving you some money for it, and if you use it for drugs or shit other than that, I will come back and take her away from you for good.”
“I didn’t know, but Len, you can’t just…my God…did you kill him and K-Man? Did you?”
“I said I gutted some trash and fed it to the gators; now, you get your shiot right and take care of Sami, or deal with me. I love you…but…some things…they piss me off, and when they do, well…I guess, I snap.”
“I can’t believe you did it. That’s crazy, you stupid mother fucker…get out of my house.”
“I’m going. You do what I said for Sami.”
“Get out.” She threw a vase that cut open his head and caused him to bleed all over the place; he wiped away blood, waved at her, and drove away.
He heard from his parents that Tammy was sober, having left Sami with them while she did. She had a good job, made good money, and had health insurance.
Sami went through some therapy to help her with things and was doing great, participating at school, was happy, and no longer threw fits at bedtime. Tammy and Sami were happy. Tammy was dating a nice young man who was, shock and awe, a cop.
Tammy never spoke to Len again.
It weighed on his mind. He joined the Marine Corps and was excellent at his job, but he always had a niggling fear that his crime would be found out or that the quiet rage he felt could come back.
