by catt dahman
“Don’t start, Carol.” She glared. “Therapists were first on the lunch menu.”
“That’s pretty sick, Hannah.”
“I’m all out of Thorazine and Lithium, Carol.”
“Stop, please,” Andie said.
“What we do is this: Beth and whoever will go with her will help Len and the others at the school. They need you all; I can feel it. I’m going to take Jeff to Doc at the hospital, maybe save his life.
Anyone wanting to go to the hospital to stay or get better supplies for himself or this group should go with me,” Tink said. “I have a truck down there, and Beth, I can run you back to the car lot now so you can get another car. We need to hurry.”
“We have a lot of things to pack,” Carol said.
“We don’t have the time; Beth and I have to go,” Tink said. The need to rush was almost making him panic.
“Let me think…”
“Andie, may I speak to you alone?” Tink asked. Everyone looked surprised, but the two went into another room and were back in just a few minutes; Andie was pale-faced.Whatever was wrong, Tink looked haggard, his face ghost-white,his eyes with dark, deep circles.Still grimacing as he walked using his injured knee, he remarked, “I messed this knee up bad, so I’ll be staying when I get to the hospital again,” he said.
“What’s up, Tink?” Beth asked, trembling.
“I was just explaining to Andie about some things I was feeling. You need to get to Kimball and the rest.”
Andie told everyone to grab a few things quickly, for they were leaving in two minutes.
Tink handed Beth a small, purple, velvet bag. “Can you give this to Kimball? He’ll know what it’s for. Tell him it did really good for me and my wonderful wife. We were married thirty years. Give it to him for me.”
“You can give it to Kim,” she was baffled. What was in the bag?
“I could, but you’ll be heading there, and I am heading the other way right now, and he may need this.”
Beth wiped a tear away. “I don’t like this, Tink.”
He hugged her. “Hush now. I love you, Bethy. Be my bad-ass.”
She felt like hell, walking away as tears filled her eyes; she felt this was wrong on many levels.
With difficulty, they got Jeff downstairs; he didn’t awaken but continued to bleed, going paler. His arm was oozing blood, and nothing was stopping it, yet the shock and concussion seemed to be the worst. He would have passed out from pain had he awakened. They belted him into the truck, and Tink painfully got into his seat; Artie and John got into the back to ride to the hospital where they would gather supplies that they needed.
Beth, Andie, and Hannah, joined them in the back to ride to the car lot again, anxious to get moving.
“You are a terrible driver,” Beth told Tink when they got there. He had woven around zeds dramatically, going up on the sidewalk and driving too fast and then too slowly. He chuckled.
Carol and Hannah ran to the office for the keys; Beth wanted another Ford Explorer. Beth and Andie started that way when they heard a shot.
Then another.
“Carol? Hannah?” Beth called out.
Andie’s face looked stricken with horror. “Hannah?”
Hannah flew out of the doors, face screwed up in agony, tears streaming. Andie caught her, going to her knees, “What happened?”
Beth and the men stood, ready with their guns. When Beth took a step towards the building, Hannah called her back. “It’s too late…one of those…things grabbed Carol. She dropped the gun, I grabbed it, and I shot it. Carol was chewed up and looked dead; I shot her, too. It happened so fast.”
“Oh, my God, you poor baby,” Andie hugged her. “Why didn’t you call us?”
“Poor Carol,” Artie said.
Andie shivered, “At least you knew how to shoot a gun.”
Beth shuddered. They had been in and out of the office and had not seen even one of those things; it was a shock. It was supposed to be clear in there; how had one gotten in?
She caught Tink, with narrowed eyes, staring at Hannah. He loved kids but didn’t seem to like Hannah, at all. Any normal kid would have screamed for help. She could feel his hatred for the girl and wondered what was going on. Later, Beth would remember to ask him why he felt the way he seemed to feel.
Tink blew Beth a kiss as she slid into the driver’s seat of the new Explorer with Andie and Hannah. She felt a lump in her throat and an intense sadness. She suddenly knew she’d never see him again.
6
School
Len twisted, banging his whole body into the stone of the school, grabbing the edge of the windowsill. Hands, black with rot, tried to get to him, but he grabbed for the rope as Kim and Conner used their scopes to land shots that drove some back from the window.
Unfortunately, the zeds began gathering around them, and they were quickly becoming unable to hold them off as the numbers built.
Len was halfway down when he heard the SUV, glad one of them had finally thought to look on the far side of the school. Landing on his feet, Len was surprised to see an Explorer that Beth and an African American woman leaped from; they began firing.
Then, there was Johnny, who drove her truck close for them to climb into, with George, Alex, and Julia close behind in vehicles. They must have seen the Explorer dart across the lawns and followed it. Finally.
Henry held up a key ring, “How about a bus?”
“Damned straight.” Kim grabbed them, hugging Beth and joining the rest. He noted how drawn and upset she seemed and wished he had time to ask what was wrong.
While several were guarding the area behind the school, Kim got a big yellow school bus started and drove out and across their bodies, crushing many of the zeds. It gave him a strong sense of justice to put them down for good, or at least crunch them enough so they couldn’t chase people.
They drove to a hilltop parking lot, easier to defend, yet empty of zeds, where they could see the school and surrounding areas.
Beth told her story and introduced Andie, the warrior woman with steely grey eyes, to the rest; they liked her at once. They met Hannah, and she had many questions as she got to know the teams.
Kim took over and told Beth and her friends what he and the team had been through. They all eyed the school, far away and at a lower point, wondering what had happened to Mia and Rose. Maybe they used the gun and no one heard it; they hoped so, anyway, as the alternative was too terrible to think about.
Beth wished she knew how Jeff was.
She wished she knew why she felt so sad and worried about Tink.
Mostly, she just wished.
“I’m sure they’ll get supplies and meet us soon,” Len said.
Beth handed Kim the little bag, and he put it in his pocket without looking at it. Right now, there were a lot of other things to think about.
They watched as groups of the zeds formed and re-formed, hunting.
“What do you think they’re doing?”
Johnny frowned, “Hunting. Killing. I hate those things.”
“I keep forgetting they are people; they seem…a new species.”
“Maybe they are. Us, but evolved, maybe.”
“Regressed.”
“There’s no place for us out here. It’s as if we should have stayed and just gone out to find the raiders; what are we supposed to do with all these survivors?” Beth asked. “Things have gone to not-too-good, it feels like.”
“We looked at this wrong. We should have done what we did in the beginning, when I didn’t know my ass from a hole in the ground,” Len ranted, “I think we had it right back then.”
“Huh?”
“I have been screwing up, I think.”
“You mean making a run out, finding the targets, supplies or people, whatever, and then relaying back to the hospital?”
George nodded. “You’re right, Len. It made sense then, and it does now.”
“What did you do?” Andie asked.
“We t
ook our cars back then and had mostly untrained shooters with no melee experience at all. But we got the guns.
Then we obtained the food; we did that a few times outside and inside. We went after survivors that way, with a plan, and people guarded as we entered; next, we held an area, and people stripped it; then, we exited as a unit,” Len said.
“It makes sense. How was this unique?”
“We didn’t have the vehicles first. We left Beth alone, instead of going as a unit, the whole school thing was pure wingin’ it,” Kim added.
“I didn’t think it through well enough, but God knows, there’s no freakin’ handbook for something like this,” Len said, almost spitting in his fury.
“Timing sucked; we panicked when we saw the horde.”
Henry shook his head, “Had you not rushed, we’d have many dead…no…all of us dead…the kids and all. We owe you our lives.”
“But losing even one is unacceptable.” Len was close to a rage. “Am I not training you all correctly? Am I stupid at making plans or what?”
Julia ran her hands through the hair she had chopped off and nudged Len’s shin with her combat boot. “Vete a su Chingada madre. I wasn’t this bad-ass perra a month ago.” She smiled at him. “Who made me tough?”
“You were always bad-ass, Jules.” Beth laughed. “I was always the wimp, but Len, I feel competent now…not bad-ass, but able to handle myself; you taught me that.”
“I don’t like things going wrong.”
“Well, who does, Len?” Kim asked. “Shit goes balls up, and that’s how it’s always been and always will be.” He brushed away sweat from his forehead, beneath the brim of his hat.
“Sounds as if you got out-voted, Len,” Andie pointed out, “so, if people have been trained, if we have weapons, and if we have brains and knowledge, where are we failing?”
Her use of we wasn’t lost on anyone. It made her more a part of their group.
“We go back to hard-core teams and stay with the plans. We…we take people back to the hospital for first aid and food, for...training if they can handle it; we stop depending on radios that mess up and depend on sound planning and knowledge of procedures.”
“That makes sense,” Kim said.
“Agreed,” Rae said, “if Tink’s knee is bummed…”
“Then we need some new team members in Alpha and Charlie…’cause of Jeff,” Beth said. “We need to set up our teams as strong as before; Len, you did great when you set us up; can we go back to depending on them?”
Len huffed but looked calmer. “You are all right. Let’s get to Base camp, unload our new members, and sit down with pen and paper…maybe a pencil so we can erase when Jules bitches about everything I write down.”
“Very funny, cabeza de meirda.”
Len looked at Andie and the new comers. “She adores me; that’s how she sweet-talks me.” He only smiled when Julia cursed him again. She could make him laugh when no one else could.
Hannah piped up, “I’m not a linguistics expert, but seems to me, cabeza means head and meirda means…”
“It means you are way too young to repeat it.” Len smirked. “I wanna let them scatter a bit more, and then we’ll get to the hospital with the supplies we have.”He moved closer to Beth. “And what’s bothering you so much? Worried about Jeff? It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know…and yes, but…”
“But?”
“I have an awful feeling… I feel…”
Andie walked over to the pair, and Kim moved closer as did Julia. Several others moved instinctively as well. Beth glanced around. “Wow…no secret whining, is there?”
“I think it was me; everyone can see that when I came over, I wasn’t invited, and I probably had a predatory look,” Andie said.
“It isn’t a personal thing…”
Andie nodded, “I know; I’m not complaining; I respect how you all can read subtle signals and each other; it’s the kind of group I need to be with to do my best, too. I’m new to all of you, but I promise that you will see I am loyal, dependable, and good for my word. I will earn your trust. But now, I need to explain something…”
“Oh?”
“It’s about Tink.”
“I already dislike this,” Johnny moaned.
“Me, too.”
“As do I,” Andie sighed, “look, I gave my word, and I was between a rock and a hard place.”
“What is it, Andie?” Len asked.
“Tink. He made me swear to him I’d keep a secret for him. And I did as he begged me.”
“What about Tink?” George tensed.
“It’s bad.”
7
He’s Not Heavy
Tink concentrated on driving, but his knee throbbed. He was so tired.
Artie thumped heavily on the cab and yelled that he saw zeds. It was part of the group they had seen before.
Tink didn’t think they could run over all of them and knew they didn’t have the firepower to put them down, so he turned left.
On that street, he found five burned out cars, blocking his way. John was yelling now. Tink did a three-point turn and went back the way he had come. The small group had doubled and was still coming.
He was trying to stay calm, despite his hammering pulse.
He swung to the right.
Bodies filled the road where there had been a fight that left bones, clothing, bodies and body parts, makeshift weapons, rubble, and dried blood. He drove over them. They crunched, and he didn’t have enough speed to get over the debris easily.
A barricade of sawhorses, concrete dividers, and cars stopped them.
Now they had zeds behind them, coming on strong, and a barricade in front, and zeds were moaning from doorways as they ambled in and out of stores and businesses that had long been deserted; rats and the infected had inherited it all.
His mind raced; Tink’s gun was shattered, and all he had was a spike. Another three-point turn and he was flying back through the bodies. Tink kept the speed up so the bodies flew up and over them; he was fearful that one of the men in the back of the truck would be thrown or bumped out into the masses, but also afraid they would all be caught by the ghouls.
The zeds battered the truck. Tink knew he was closer to the hospital now; they were almost there. So damned close now.
Soclose.
Tink felt sick, his stomach rolling in huge waves; he unhappily leaned over to vomit between his legs, miserably splashing his boots with the mess. When a wave of acute dizziness hit him, doubling his vision, he swerved the truck, clipping a blue car parked on the street and sent the two in the back flying into a lone fire truck that sat abandoned. It was like hitting a wall.
Artie vaulted over the cab, hitting the fire truck and killing himself instantly as he bashed in his head.
John came flying out of the truck, hitting the pavement and rubble, ripping skin off his arms, chest, stomach, and legs, as he skidded across the rough terrain. He violently flipped, shattering his fingers, hands, shoulders, and ribs, and the snap of his leg was loud in the silence. His face and scalp were skinless in places that once had muscles.
He sobbed.
When a single zed shambled out of a store, moaning as it saw John, he didn’t even care; he hurt in so many places that he welcomed death in any form. His fingers were broken twigs, each hanging in several directions, his clothing and skin were ripped to expose bones, fat, and muscles in many places, and his leg was bent almost backwards.The deepening crystal-clear, sharp pain of the breaks, the burning fire of torn flesh, the searing torn muscles, and the screaming sensation from his hands, all ravaged him at once. The very thought of recovery, enduring even a tenth of this torture, made him weep. He began screaming in pain and fear, and it was a while before he quit.
Tink slammed back in the seat, knowing he was deeply bruised. Vomiting again, he cursed his fate as he unbuckled his seatbelt and raised his pants legs, so he could examine his ankle.
In the parking lot, a damned zed
on the ground grazed Tink’s ankle with its nasty teeth, barely breaking the skin, but sending the virus into Tink’s system with its saliva.
The original wound was filled with pus and swollen as big as a baseball cut in half. He was about to mash the infection out, but it was getting numb now anyway. The rest of his leg was mottled black, green, and purple, with rotting flesh; his fever made his head swim.
Tink felt so sick.
He thought he had more time. He cared about Beth and Jeff. That was it. He had one friend hopefully on her way to safety; now he had to help Jeff.
Had Beth known, she would have done the wrong thing and tried to help Tink, which would have allowed Jeff to die.
She would have sat with him. She would have risked her life to wait and watch while he turned, and if she had tried to be strong and take Jeff out, he could not imagine how badly she would have been hurt emotionally.
Tink could have done it himself, but he had to help Jeff. It had made sense at the time, but now, made no sense at all. What the hell had been wrong with his thinking?
Slowly, Tink got out of the truck and went to Jeff’s side where he gently unbuckled the man. “We’re gonna get you to help.”
Jeff moaned and held his bleeding arm closer to his chest, trembling and shaking like a little kitten. Tink felt bad for the kid.
Tink waited a few minutes while his leg and knee went numb. He was so much better now that he wasn’t in pain; he could walk again without limping or hobbling.
Leaning over Jeff, he cut himself on the sharp spear of the remains of his gun. The cut, a deep, black gash, actually curled back without pain, and
swelled quickly.
He reached back for a zed that had come too close, angrily slamming his big hand into the thing’s face. The creature snapped its teeth, tearing off Tink’s finger and chewing on it. It didn’t hurt, but it pissed him off.
Tink shoved his hand into the zed’s mouth, grabbed its slimy tongue and yanked brutally, pulling it out by the very roots. Repeatedly, he hit it in the mouth until all the teeth were knocked out or broken off. ‘Son of a bitchin’ dead thing won’t be biting anyone else without any teeth left in its jaws,’ he thought.
