S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND: Season Two Omnibus (Episodes 9-11)

by Tanpepper, Saul

  She hoped they’d come back. She wanted to see them again. She wanted to—

  eat them

  —apologize.

  She came to the corner of the graveyard, where the black wrought iron fence met a cinderblock wall. The grounds were now weed-choked, the tombstones sunken beneath a withering kelp forest of old tangled vines and the husks of dead grass. This was a sanctuary now, a reef for birds whose layered shit created grotesque shapes on them like some macabre coral.

  The entrance was just around the corner. The gate was open.

  There was a moment of panic when she couldn’t remember where her son was buried. She couldn’t even remember his name, not right away.

  Remy. Little Remington.

  He hadn’t lived even a week.

  She looked back along the sidewalk before entering, half expecting to see the dog slinking along beneath the waves of grass that spilled out onto the sidewalk. She knew the mutt was somewhere close by. She could smell—

  the disease

  —its fusty pelt, could smell the—

  life

  —mange on it.

  But the street behind her was empty.

  She swam through the sea of grass with the corpse of her daughter held out before her, and she laid Cassie down beside Remy’s headstone. The ground before it had sunken in a long time ago, as if the thing it once held had gotten out and crawled away. The hollow was just large enough for her to lie down in, so she did. She lay down in a tight ball and closed her eyes.

  * * *

  The dog stood at the end of the row and watched the woman for a very long time. Something about her triggered an old memory, and he began to whine with longing. But the woman’s smell was fading, and a new smell was leaking out of her, a smell he had come to regard as “bad.”

  Finally, she rose and walked away, her arms limp at her sides.

  As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, he turned from that place and made his way home. More bad smelling things would soon rise, and some instinct he’d long since developed told him that it was time to hide until the sun came out again.

  Chapter 73

  “It’s not looking too good,” Robert Casey told the group assembled around the tiny kitchen table in the rundown apartment on the outskirts of town. There were only two chairs. One was occupied by his wife, Vickie, the other by Lana Daniels.

  The chairs were old, the legs uneven, and the plastic cushions were badly torn. The tabletop, ancient Formica with the empty cocoon scars of ancient cigarettes left burning on its edges, similarly rocked on legs whose connections were questionable at best.

  “We have food and water for maybe another two days, if we’re careful. And,” he added, glancing over at Officer Gilfoy, “if we don’t add any more people to our group.”

  Gilfoy didn’t react. His gaze was directed out the window overlooking the apartment complex’s courtyard, where a number of Infected had fallen into the pool and were floating in various poses and states of buoyancy. The scene reminded him of a picnic he’d taken in the Blue Ridge Mountains as a child, back when his family lived in Virginia. There had been a lot of people attending, though he couldn’t remember the occasion or who the people were, other than his parents. He remembered watching the women setting out the food on the picnic tables while the men played lawn games. The pool scene was like a gruesome interpretive performance art piece of a Jell O fruit bowl.

  Every so often, one of the zombies would flinch, and that would set off a chain reaction resulting in the rest of them thrashing about in the water for a little while. The noise would attract even more into the courtyard, and invariably some of the new arrivals would fall in, too.

  He could feel their eyes on him, the people in the kitchen, could feel the undercurrent of hostility and blame that came with telling them what had happened. He knew it wasn’t his fault, and they knew it too, but it didn’t stop them from resenting him.

  He’d barely made it out of the truck alive. Most of the passengers hadn’t. With the door shut on the freight compartment, he hadn’t realized until it was too late what was happening. Not until the screaming forced him to stop the truck to investigate. By then, nearly everyone had been bitten.

  He didn’t tell them that it was Eric who had died and come back. He couldn’t even be sure of it himself, though it seemed the most likely explanation. He thought it best to keep that part to himself.

  “I’ll make a supply run,” he volunteered, turning away from the window. “I think it’ll be better if we go in a team of four, no more and no less. One person will remain in the car as a driver, one to gather supplies, two to provide security.” He glanced at the four remaining survivors of yesterday’s mishap and waited.

  “I’ll go,” Robert Casey volunteered. His wife grabbed his arm, but he shook it off.

  “If you’re afraid we’ll just leave without—” Gilfoy started to say.

  “We were doing fine until you came and brought . . . them.”

  “Robert!” Missus Casey exclaimed.

  “I think we should reconsider finding a better place to hole up,” Gilfoy said. He’d made the argument shortly after arriving. From what he’d learned, most of the apartments in the complex were packed with survivors, all of them seeking refuge as they fled away from the center of town. More people meant better chances of fending off the Undead, but it also meant more risk. And too many people meant the supplies in the area would quickly be depleted.

  Lana Daniels shook her head. “No, I’m not moving. Not until we know for sure what happened to the kids.” She reached up to her shoulder, where Kelly’s mother was resting her hand, and grabbed it and squeezed.

  “We can leave them a note.”

  One of the people from the truck, a man who went simply by the name of Walter B, pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against. He picked at a scab on his cheek, inspected his fingernail for a moment, then flicked the fleck of skin away. “Speaking for myself only,” he said with a thick New York drawl, “and this is just my opinion so take it or leave it, but what makes any youse think those kids is even still alive?”

  The women turned their eyes toward him. Collectively, they could’ve frozen magma.

  “We’re not leaving,” Mister Corben asserted.

  “And in the mean time we—”

  “Kelly’s still alive,” a tiny voice said. Kyle Corben pushed through the forest of legs and went to his mother. “My brother’s coming home.”

  “Kyle, go back to bed,” his mother whispered. But he refused to leave her side.

  Walter B shook his head and resumed his place against the wall. He wasn’t in the mood to argue, which was very uncharacteristic of him. “Discussing things” in a heated manner was how he usually communicated with people, but at the moment he wasn’t feeling up to taking on a gang of women. He felt like pure shit.

  His stomach lurched as the image of the massacre in the truck came to mind for about the fiftieth time in the past hour. The damn scene was going to give him nightmares for weeks to come. A small amount of puke, complete with half-digested chunks of lunch, bubbled into the back of his throat. He swallowed it back down, wincing at the way it burned.

  “We’ll discuss this further after we return with some supplies,” Gilfoy said. “Do I have two more volunteers?”

  Walter could feel the request directed at him, but he pretended not to hear, and he purposefully avoided looking at the copper. He just wanted to find a dark hole and crawl into it until someone with some real authority, like the government or the military, regained control of the situation. That, and he wished this damn pressure in his head would go away. It felt like an overripe watermelon getting ready to burst.

  Chapter 74

  They’d been walking for nearly three and a half hours and had just reached the wall near the place where Doctor White had brought them in when Jessie collapsed.

  “I can’t,” she said. Reggie could feel her trembling as he raised her head to give her some wa
ter. “I can’t go any further.” She closed her eyes.

  “We’re almost there. Just a little more. Come on, you can do it.” He looked around them, alarmed by how quickly the sky was clouding up, and for once he was thankful that the ground this close to the wall was barren. It gave the Undead fewer places to hide.

  There were several buildings ahead, a cannery they’d given wide berth to that first day coming in. The place certainly had the appearance of not having seen a human soul in years, whether living or otherwise, and there were no footprints in the dried mud to suggest it was anything but abandoned. Nevertheless, a few days had passed since the rain, and with the wall no longer pumping out its poison, there was nothing to keep the Undead away.

  It was an iffy proposition, but if they had to spend the night somewhere, in there was better than out in the open.

  Of course, that was assuming they’d even last the night. The way his head felt, he wasn’t sure if the activation signal had been sent or if it was just stress he was experiencing.

  “I should’ve made you eat something back there.”

  “Not hungry,” she whispered. “Just tired. So tired.”

  Now he cursed his stupidity for stopping off at White’s house. He should’ve just driven straight here to begin with and screw the old woman. But his conscience wouldn’t allow him to do it.

  After trying several times, he’d finally gotten the car to start again, and since they were only a mile away by then, he made the rash decision to fetch White and the girl. Jessie had fallen asleep crying, so he left her in the car with the engine running while he ran inside.

  He was startled to find the door wide open and the house empty. No blood. No sign that anything had gone wrong.

  Nobody leaves their doors open during the apocalypse, Reg old boy. She’s gone.

  He snatched up the doctor’s pack, not caring anymore what had happened to her, and left.

  The engine died less than a block away. This time, no matter what he tried, it wouldn’t restart, so they got out and walked.

  They didn’t talk. Jessie was too deep in her grief that he didn’t even try to engage her, other than to remind her to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He kept himself occupied watching for Infecteds.

  “Come on, Jessie,” he whispered. “Just a little further. We’re almost there.” He gave her a gentle shake, but she didn’t respond.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. The sky was quickly growing darker. He reached beneath her to pick her up. They needed to keep moving. They needed to get off the island. He didn’t want to die in here.

  As he stood, he felt the first small explosion of pain in the back of his head. His vision went opaque for a moment, then cleared. The pain vanished, but the episode left him panting.

  After another minute, he tried again. He stood and turned toward the buildings. Then he stopped.

  The dog blocking his path was the same color as the dirt. It regarded him with what looked like curiosity in its eyes.

  Reggie stepped forward. It didn’t move.

  “Nice doggie,” he murmured. “Let us pass, please.”

  It wagged its tail, but still didn’t move.

  “Come on, dog.” He took another step.

  This time the animal bared its teeth and growled.

  Reggie stepped back and it stopped.

  “I don’t have time for this.” He tried again, and once more the animal raised its hackles and let out a low rumble from its throat.

  “Get out of my way.”

  The growl grew louder.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  In the gloom off in the distance, Reggie saw the figures emerge from the shadows of the empty buildings and from the woods beyond. The Undead were there. They had already moved in.

  Reggie stepped back, and the dog matched him. The curious look had returned. The menace was gone.

  “Those are the bad people,” Reggie said.

  The dog tilted its head at him.

  “You’re not going to bite me, are you?”

  Getting no response, Reggie slowly turned and walked carefully away. He tried not to make any sudden movements. He could sense the dog following him.

  “Fine,” he said in a low voice over his shoulder, “you can tag along. I’ll give you my last can of soup when we get to wherever we’re going, but then you have to leave us. And, please, no barking.”

  Chapter 75

  Spray from the falls pelted Jessie’s face. The water was pleasantly cool, not the icy cold she expected it to be on such a frigid winter day. She clung to the railing as the boat rocked and the mist soaked through her clothes.

  But then the deck dropped out from beneath her feet and flung her over the side. She cried out, thrusting her arms out in a futile attempt to stop herself from drowning. The water rushed up at her, and when she hit, it was unyielding. She felt her breath leave her lungs.

  She opened her eyes, gasping and coughing.

  Reggie knelt beside her, his head in his hands. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he groaned in pain.

  She could feel it too, and so she knew that it was starting. They were already too late. They’d never get home before the implant activations were complete.

  She let the rain hit her face, big fat drops of it falling from a mercurial sky. It was starting to get dark.

  She looked over again and she could tell by the way his shoulders were jerking that he was crying, and not just from the pain.

  “Reggie.” She reached over and buried her fingers in his hair. “It’s okay. We tried.”

  He groaned again, but didn’t answer.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry for what my family did. We’re cursed, we Daniels. We must be cursed for all of this to happen to us. First my grandfather, and then my father. Both of them, actually.” A wry smile twisted her lips. “My mother and Eric. All of us.”

  “No,” Reggie moaned. He raised himself up and his face was smudged with dirt. “You’re not responsible for what anyone else has done.”

  “No? How can you say that? Look at all the people who’ve died because of me. Kwanjangnim Rupert. And Jake and his uncle. Micah. Siennah Davenport. That girl, Tanya.” She ticked them all off on her fingers. There were so many of them. “G-ma Junie. Even Ashley. Especially Ashley.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “And Kelly.”

  “It’s not your fault. None of this was your fault.”

  “I was reckless, irresponsible. Arrogant. I’ve always been that way.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “How? Look at me. I knew what a mess I was, and yet I brought a life into this world, didn’t I? A life that I had no right to.”

  “It wasn’t just your decision.” He raised up, shaking his head as if to rid it of cobwebs.

  Jessie knew the pain had left him for the moment. The niggling sensation in her own head was gone, too.

  “If I remember my sex ed instruction correctly,” he said, “making a baby requires two parties of the opposite sexual persuasion to be present at the same place and time. If there was ever a more willing and level-headed guy than Kelly, I’ve never met him. He knew what he was doing. He would’ve wanted this.”

  The pain in Jessie’s heart swelled until it seemed it would burst out of her chest.

  He gripped his head for a moment and cringed. But the pain this time was fleeting. “God, I think they’re actually trying to torture us.”

  “It’ll be over soon.”

  “No, Jessie!” He staggered to his feet and reached down for her hand. “I’m not giving up.”

  She chuffed at the sentiment. How many times had she made the same promise over the past two months? How many times had she failed to live up to that promise?

  The sky rumbled and drew their attention away from each other for a moment. The rain was getting harder.

  “Come on, Jess.”

  “I’ll walk,” she told him. But she let him pull her up.
>
  “We’re almost at the bridge,” he told her. “In a half hour, we’ll be on the other side of the wall.”

  She knew they were just going through the motions now. “In a half hour, we’ll be dead. Maybe an hour, which would put us somewhere in the middle of the Sound.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never been the kind of guy who could just sit around and let things happen to me, you know that.”

  She shook her head at him.

  “Besides,” he added, brushing the rain from his eyes. He pointed toward the edge of the path behind them. “We can’t disappoint our guardian angel.”

  “Our what?” Jessie squinted into the rain, but she didn’t see anything.

  “He kept us from getting into trouble back there.”

  “Who did?” she started to say, but then she saw him.

  Reggie touched her arm. “Come on, Jess. He’ll follow.”

  But she didn’t move.

  “He’s harmless, don’t worry. He’s been following us for a while. I think he’s hungry.”

  Jessie stepped toward the dog.

  “He won’t let you get near him, Jess.”

  But she wasn’t listening to him. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest. It can’t be.

  The dog slipped deeper into the brush.

  “Shinji?”

  She kneeled down and called his name again.

  Slowly, tentatively, the dog stepped out and came to her.

  Chapter 76

  The pain returned with a vengeance as they climbed down into the storm drain. Reggie’s grip slipped, and he fell from the ladder. Thankfully, he was nearly down already and the worst that happened was that he twisted his ankle. Of course, it was nothing compared with the pain in his head. This time, it was much worse, and it lasted longer. Even if they made it out of the tunnel, they knew they’d never reach the mainland.

  Jessie tried to shoo Shinji away, to make him go back, but he whined. She tried scaring him off, even yelling. He flattened his ears against the back of his head, but wouldn’t go. She didn’t want him to be out in the middle of the Sound with them when they died. He’d be stranded in the boat, and who knew where the current would take them?