Ashley Drake, Zombie Hunter

by Dana Fredsti

  “Is this all of us?” I tried not to sound disappointed, but five of us—not counting Simone and Gabriel—against the zombified world seemed like crappy odds.

  “We're still waiting to see if two other possible Wild Cards pull through. We should know within the next twenty-four hours.” Simone took a seat across from us. “And five Wild Cards found in a such a relatively small radius is actually rather remarkable.”

  “What's the actual percentage of Wild Cards versus the normal population?” asked Kai.

  “Point zero zero one percent. Basically one out every ten thousand. It's those who actually survive the initial attack who are rare. Most are either devoured outright or are so badly injured, they can't make it through the fever and infection that follow. Proper medical care ups the odds considerably, but during a zombie outbreak such care can be in short supply. We were ready this time.”

  We all looked at each other, fellow mutants gathered together.

  “So,” continued Simone, “I thought it would be good for you to get to know one another before you start your training.”

  Tony raised a hand. Not the kind of courtesy I'd expect from someone with that many pieces of metal stuck through various extremities. “Like what?”

  “Whatever you'd like,” said Simone. “Where you're from, what you do, how you came here.”

  Wow, this was like the world's weirdest encounter group.

  “Oh, please.” Kaitlyn scowled at all of us. “Why waste time with any of this? Who cares what any of us did before we found out we're mutant freaks? What does it matter?”

  Simone studied Kaitlyn with dispassionate curiosity. Kaitlyn squirmed uncomfortably in her chair as the silence became almost sentient.

  Finally Simone spoke, her tone carefully neutral. “The people in this room are now more important to you than your family and loved ones because you'll be trusting them, quite literally, with your life. Now I don't know about you all, but I would prefer to know a bit about the people who will be watching my back on a daily basis.”

  Kaitlyn flushed, her expression more angry than embarrassed. I got the feeling Ms. Rodeo Drive wasn't used to opposition of any sort. I wondered if her ability to be a high-maintenance bitch was enhanced by the Wild Card gene. Hopefully the ‘tude would come in handy when slaying zombies.

  I took a quick peek at Gabriel. His expression was as neutral as Simone's voice. I wondered when he'd learn to hide his feelings ‘cause he sure hadn't bothered a few weeks earlier. He glanced in my direction, catching me looking at him. My gaze flickered away almost as quickly as his this time, heat rising in my cheeks.

  “Ashley, why don't you go first?”

  Well, crap. Okay, I know Simone didn't mean to put me on the spot, but I really hate this type of thing. I wasn't about to let her down, though, so I took a deep breath and dove right in.

  “Um … well, I'm Ashley and”—I couldn't resist it—”and I'm a Wild Card.”

  Blank stares from all the Wild Cards except Kai, who let out a little guffaw. “They say the first step is admitting it,” he said with a grin.

  Damn, he was cute even if he was too aware of it.

  Gabriel frowned. Guess he thought I wasn't being serious enough. “I, uh, go to school here at Big Red, including”—I nodded at Simone—”Professor Fraser's course on Pandemics in History. Guess this is a field trip, huh?” That got a laugh from everyone but Kaitlyn (guess that stick up her butt blocked a sense of humor) and Lily (although it was hard to tell what was going on behind all that hair). “Anyway, I'm here because my boyfriend and I were attacked in the woods behind Big Red. We ran for it. I was bit, but I survived.” I swallowed hard and stared straight ahead. “Matt didn't.”

  Kai reached across and patted me sympathetically on my knee. “That's rough.”

  Tears stung my eyes for a brief second. I forced them back and managed a quick smile.

  “How about I go next?” he said. “I'm Kai King, also a student at Big Red. Double major, English and drama.” He grinned at me. “Guess I can soliloquy those deadheads to death.”

  “How'd you get … how did you find out you were a Wild Card?” A soft voice emerged from the veil of Lily's hair. Good to know the girl could talk.

  Kai winced and rubbed his forearm. “Roommate was down with Walker's and he … well, he'd changed into one of those things between the time I'd left that morning and the time I came back to our dorm after classes. Bit me on the arm before I knew what the hell was happening. About that time, this guy”—he gestured towards Gabriel—”came through our dorm with a bunch of dudes with guns, brought me here, and I … I guess I was one of the lucky ones.”

  Kaitlyn made a rude noise. “You think this is lucky?”

  “Did you see any of the people dying from this?” Kai held up his arm where the indents of human teeth were still visible. “It's a nasty way to go. So yeah, I'd say I'm damn lucky, just like the rest of you.”

  Kaitlyn shook her head. “I watched my sister and niece ripped to pieces at a rest stop a few miles down the road when we were on our way home to Arcata.”

  Okay, that surprised me. Arcata is the home of politically correct uber-liberals, not Hollywood Barbie wives. Guess I'd misjudged her.

  “They had to use the bathroom. I didn't.” Kaitlyn wrapped both arms protectively around herself as she talked. “So I stayed by the car while they went inside Big Foot's Roadside Emporium. Total tourist trap, with redwood statues of bears and pigs carved with a chainsaw. They'd just reached the doors when a bunch of those things burst out of the building and around the sides of the porch. One of them bit me, but I got in the car. My friend and her daughter … they didn't stand a chance.” She shot Kai a hostile look. “I'd rather be dead than remember the sound of their screams.” She glared at all of us as if daring us to offer her any sympathy.

  Stupid me, I tried anyway. “I'm sorry,” I said quietly.

  “Oh, are you?” I'd never heard three words infused with quite so much venomous sarcasm. I would have been impressed if I hadn't been the target. “Funny, because you don't see capable of anything beyond shallow, juvenile humor. I wonder how your boyfriend would feel if he knew how seriously you're mourning his death.”

  Oh no, you di-nt.

  I stared at her, not quite believing I'd heard her correctly. The rest of the group looked equally stunned.

  It took a few seconds for my brain to process the fact that, yes, she really did just say what I thought she said. It took my brains a few seconds after that to convince my hands not to strangle the bitch.

  Taking a few deep, yoga-type breaths, I sat up very straight in my chair. Both Gabriel and Simone tensed, no doubt expecting the worst after the way I went after General Brasshole. If so, I disappointed them.

  “I don't think you're in any position to judge me or decide how my boyfriend would feel about me.” I was proud at the levelness of my voice, considering the seething, boiling rage inside me.

  Simone nodded. “Everyone deals with trauma differently. Some people use humor to help them cope.”

  “It doesn't mean it's right or appropriate!” Kaitlyn's voice trembled with misplaced rage.

  Simone started to reply, but I'd had enough.

  “You're right.” I said. Everyone looked at me. “It's not always appropriate. For instance, Kaitlyn, you're obviously dealing with your own grief and fear by finding an easy focus for it, which just happens to me. I'm not sure why, but it doesn't really matter. Because I'm not your whipping girl and it's not okay for you to be a total bitch”—okay, another word actually sprung to mind instead of “bitch,” but there are some lines even a zombie plague can't make me cross—”because you're not the only one here who's lost someone.”

  Kaitlyn's mouth opened and closed like the proverbial beached fish, only in her case it wasn't lack of air but lack of any immediate response. She finally sat back in her seat red-faced, furious, and thankfully silent. Good thing because I had an itchy right hook.

  “Well
, then,” Simone said briskly. “Tony, what about you?”

  Tony looked bored. “Playing video games at the arcade in Redwood Grove. These totally reeking deadheads came in, tore up the place when Manny and I were duking it out on Resident Evil, Darkside Chronicles. Fuckers messed up my high score. That fucker Manny'd be laughing his ass off at me if they hadn't eaten him. Hurt like hell to get bit, but here I am.” And that was it for Tony. He slouched back in his chair, twiddling his thumbs as if there were joysticks attached.

  “Mack?”

  Mack gave Simone a little nod and gazed at us all with those big, sad eyes, hands resting on his jeans-clad knees. “I'm a mailman. I was doing my route out by the Big Red truck stop and all those little houses off the beaten path.” He had a soothing voice, kind of like Garrison Keiller, made for relating folksy homespun tales. “I know the people on my route real well. They're the kind of folks who make homemade fudge for my Christmas bonus, real nice people.” He swallowed. “I kind of figured something was wrong when I stopped at the Millers’ place. Young couple with two kids, real cute twins, five years old. Those little girls always come out to say hi when they hear me at the door. Well, this time…” He swallowed again. It looked like it hurt. “Well, they didn't come out. Even though the front door was open, just the screen door shut, but not all the way. Shantal—that's Mrs. Miller—well, I knew she was home ‘cause her car was in the driveway. But she didn't come out to say hello either.” Mack wiped his forehead on a blue-and-black plaid flannel sleeve.

  “At first I tried not to worry. You know, maybe they were out back or something. But then I noticed … well, the flies. They were buzzing on the inside of the screen and … and on the floor … and it looked like blood. Mrs. Miller had one of those scented candles lit, cinnamon or something. But underneath it, I could smell something rotten.”

  He looked at us guiltily. “We're not supposed to go in anyone's house on our routes. We're not supposed to do that. But I then thought, what if the twins were hurt? So I went inside.”

  Normally I would be chewing my arm off to get away from this kind of long-winded tale. But the quiet emotion in Mack's voice was riveting, like an unexpectedly horrific anecdote of Lake Wobegon days. Even Kaitlyn had gone silent, listening with full attention as Mack continued.

  “There was stuff … a cast iron pan, half-cooked hamburgers, blood, and other stuff on the floor. Maybe a finger. I'm not sure. It was covered with flies. One of the stove burners was still on, so I turned it off before it started a house fire. I heard a sound from the living room, a moan, like someone in pain. The girls… the twins…” He looked up again, directly at me this time, eyes deep wells of pain. “They were eating their mom.” Kaitlyn made a choked sound, hand flying to her mouth. Mack gave her an apologetic look, but kept going.

  “I didn't know what to do. I guess I yelled or made some sort of noise ‘cause the girls, those little girls all covered in their mother's blood … they looked up and saw me standing there and … well, they left their mom and attacked me.” He pulled the cuff of his pants up on his right leg to show several healing bite wounds. “I didn't want to hurt them, but they kept coming. I made it to the kitchen, grabbed the fry pan and—” He stopped for a moment. “I didn't want to do it. I had to hit them. Those sweet little girls…” He stopped, tears running down his cheeks, unable to continue.

  Surprisingly it was Lily who spoke first. “You had to do it, you know.” She reached out and patted Mack on his shoulder, somehow still managing to keep her face covered by hair. “They weren't little girls any more.”

  Mack nodded, dashing the tears from his eyes with closed fists. “I know,” he said quietly. “But when I hit them … I still saw their faces like they were when they were alive. Their sweet little faces…” His voice choked up as sobs wracked his body. Simone handed him a package of tissues that she'd seemingly conjured from thin air.

  “Lily, what about you?”

  Lily had started to shrink back into her chair, like a blow-up doll deflating, but Simone's voice stopped her in mid-shrink. “Me? I … I just … I live in an apartment in town. Above my mom's bead shop.” Lily kept her head down as she talked. I ached to push her Cousin It hair away from her face. “I work there on weekends and afternoons after class. Mom's in San Francisco on a buying trip, although she was supposed to get home last night.” She stopped, as if uncertain where to go from there.

  “Do you go to Big Red?” I smiled encouragingly, hoping she saw the smile through all that hair.

  Lily nodded. “I'm studying art and photography.”

  “Those will be useful in the real world,” Kaitlyn muttered. “If there's even a real world left.”

  I shot her a withering look as Lily flinched. “Of course there's going to be a real world,” I snapped. “That's why we're here, right?” Kaitlyn didn't exactly wither, but at least she shut up.

  “My boyfriend and I were at the Student Union. He was texting—he does that all the time—and I got mad at him because I was sick of it, so I went outside to get some fresh air … and I saw these people … these things … heading towards the Union. They didn't look right. And I could smell them.” She jerked her head towards Mack, hair briefly lifting to reveal cheerfully pretty features before veiling her face again. “Like you said you could smell something rotten in the house, right?”

  Mack nodded.

  “I could smell them on the breeze…” She paused, fiddled with a strand of hair. “They started attacking people. At first I thought it was a joke, but then I saw the blood. I went back in the Union, tried to get Casey to listen to me, but he just kept on texting. Ignored me.” She gave a little shrug that could have meant anything. “He did that a lot. Ignored me, I mean.”

  Jeez, this really was like an encounter group. I kept the thought to myself, though. Last thing I wanted to do was spook Lily now that she was finally talking.

  “So they came through the front door. Lots more blood, bright shiny blood, red like an apple. Casey … he just kept on texting, even when I was trying to pull him out the back. Probably Tweeting about the blood and how fake it looked or something.” She shrugged again. “I saw them tear him to pieces before I ran out the back door. One of them bit me on the shoulder when I tried to help Casey. He never dropped his iPhone, not even when they bit his arm off.” With that, Lily heaved a great sigh and sat back in her chair, a wind-up toy whose key had run down.

  If this were a twelve-step meeting, we'd get coffee and doughnuts about now. Which would be nice ‘cause I was getting hungry again. I patted my stomach, asking it silently to wait a while before striking up conversation.

  Kai raised a tentative hand. “How bad is it out there?”

  Simone hesitated briefly. “It's not good,” she finally answered. “But so far it's contained within a hundred-mile radius around Big Red. The relative isolation of Redwood Grove and the sparseness of residences and businesses in the surrounding area have worked in our favor as far as slowing the spread of the virus. But if even one carrier makes it through to a more populated area and bites someone … we could easily lose control of the situation. Which is why it's important we move forward quickly. We are going to do our best to prepare you as best we can in this limited time, but I'm afraid the majority of your training will come in the field.”

  “How are they explaining this to rest of the world?” I asked.

  “Officially there is a possible outbreak of an unidentified viral hemorrhagic fever, giving plausibility to the reason no one can go in or out of the area.”

  She nodded at Gabriel. “It's your show now.” She walked to the doors, before turning back to us. “I'll see you all in a few hours for dinner. I've no doubt you'll have worked up quite an appetite.” With that, she left.

  Well, crap. No coffee and doughnuts.

  Tony raised his hand with the same bored expression he'd worn since I'd met him. “So when do we start training?”

  “You've already started.” All heads turned towards
Gabriel, who'd been Mister Quiet Man up to this point. He stood up and paced as he spoke. “If you're smart, you'll remember everything you've just heard and what it's taught you about your fellow Wild Cards. You need to know what to expect from each other when the pressure's on and stakes are high.”

  Tony smirked. “I don't see how any of these sob stories could make a difference one way or the other.”

  Guess Wild Cards weren't picked genetically for their personalities.

  Gabriel gave him a total hairy eyeball. “Then let's hope you're better at fighting than you are at listening.”

  Tony's smirk deepened. “Seriously, dude. Tell me what I'm supposed to get from knowing Redwood Barbie here”—he jerked his head towards me—”outlived her boyfriend.”

  I hooked a foot under one of Tony's chair legs and pulled hard. Seconds later Tony was flat on his back, ass over teakettle and chair back. I stared down at him. “For starters, jerk, you know I won't put up with any shit from you.”

  “And she might outlive you too.” Extending a hand, Gabriel pulled Tony to his feet. “Unless you pay attention. Ready to train, everyone?”

  Tony eyed me with new respect and what I suspected might be the beginning of a crush. “Shit, yeah. Can Ashley be my partner?”

  Oh yeah. Gotta love those post-adolescent hormones and guys who go for warrior women. Beat a guy up and he's yours for life, the anti Red-Sonya complex. Oh well, better than the uber-macho freaks that can't stand being shown up by a female. At least I didn't have to worry about Tony gunning for me. Just drooling on me.

  Gabriel slapped Tony on one shoulder. “We'll switch off so you all get a chance to work with each other.”

  “Thank you,” I mouthed at Gabriel when Tony wasn't looking.

  One corner of Gabriel's mouth lifted in reply. “Let's go, then. Since it's your first session, I'll take it easy on you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Simone hadn't been kidding about the whole “working up an appetite” thing. And Gabriel was obviously being facetious when he said he'd take it easy on us.