Dead 10: Reclamation

by T. W. Brown

  “Kevin Dreon, meet Cap Mitchell,” Clint said by way of introduction.

  The man extended a hand to Kevin. “Sorry to put you and the missus through all the interrogation. It’s just, with all the drama that has unfolded in the past few days, we couldn’t be too careful.”

  “No worries.” Kevin made a dismissive wave with his hand. “So, have you gotten anything from Darlene?”

  “Not yet, she is a tough cookie,” Cap said with a sigh. “And I gotta be honest, we ain’t really got that much experience with interrogation.”

  “No kidding?” Kevin snorted and shot a wink at Craig who flushed just a little.

  “Well, I bet I can get her to talk,” Kevin said after a questioning look Catie’s direction received a nod of approval. “But I need to do it my way, and you have to understand something, I have dealt with people like her before. They only speak one language. If I do this, it is my way and no interference.”

  Cap turned to the other two and they huddled together. While they debated in harsh whispers that made it clear there were some serious misgivings to his offer, Kevin went to Catie and pulled her close.

  “They aren’t ready for this,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yeah, well if they say no, you and I are outta here. I won’t go through that nonsense again.”

  Catie was referring to the time they had been captured back when it was the two of them, Aleah, Rose, and Heather. It had been by the skin of their teeth that they all survived.

  “Okay,” Cap finally said, stepping away from the other two.

  Kevin was not surprised that Craig was unhappy with this decision. Despite their little moment of bonding over bite scars, it was clear that Craig had some antiquated ideas of how things should be.

  “Besides, we got the mayor in another holding cell,” Clint said, receiving nasty looks from both Cap and Craig.

  “Before I go, I just got one quick question?” Kevin planted his hands on his hips. “Are all of the men here sporting names that begin with the letter ‘C’?”

  Clint smiled. “Nope, but we did have a Chester and a Cletus for a while.”

  There was a moment of silence. Catie started to giggle and it quickly spread. Before long, all of them were slapping each other on the back and sharing in a moment of levity.

  ***

  Kevin stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Darlene’s wrists were secured, and the cuffs were attached to a large bolt in the center of the table. She sat up straight when he entered, her expression expectant. But when she saw who it was, she slumped back down in her chair.

  “I gots nothin’ to say to you,” she huffed and blew a greasy strand of hair from her eyes.

  “Maybe not yet.” Kevin took the seat across from her and kept his expression and voice as neutral as possible. “But just like your friends back there would not willingly accept death because of the human nature to cling to survival, you will talk to avoid pain and possibly death.”

  “That supposed to scare me?” Darlene leaned forward in her seat and bared her teeth. “I can take anything you dish out and then some, you scrawny little geek.”

  “I am sure you think that for the moment.”

  “You gonna rape me? Hell, I bet you got a pencil dick, and I won’t even feel a thing.”

  “Nothing quite so…personal.” Kevin shrugged out of his coat and let it drape back over his chair. He folded his hands in front of him on the table and stared into Darlene’s eyes.

  “You think all your fancy talk is gonna work? Maybe you think you will trick me into saying something. Well you’d be wrong.”

  “Actually, I won’t have to lay a hand on you. And I bet you will start talking so fast that an auctioneer would be jealous.”

  Darlene let go with a bray of ugly laughter. She shook her head and then pressed her lips together tight as if to visibly demonstrate her commitment to not talking.

  Kevin sat still for a moment before reaching up and unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt. With deliberate slowness, he rolled the sleeve up and laid his arm out so that the scar was clearly visible. Without making eye contact, he pulled a knife from his belt and made a single slice across his forearm. A thin line of blood welled up from the cut. Kevin gave it a second before he looked up at Darlene.

  Sure enough, the horror in her eyes was crystal clear. Kevin had to actually steel himself when a tear broke free from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek.

  “P-p-please,” she whispered. Despite how simple-minded she had come off as up to this point, she was very aware of the threat that was before her.

  “Then start talking.”

  7

  Cricket

  “Whoever you are, come out slow.” Okay…now I was a little bit scared.

  A woman crawled out on her hands and knees. She looked up at me and I staggered back a step. Her face had one of those boils on it, and I could already see the swelling and telltale dark smudge on her throat.

  “You!” I barked, taking a swift step forward and nudging the man on the ground with the toe of my boot. “Roll over.”

  I bit back a gasp. A boil had burst—recently, judging by the thick curd-like pus oozing from what was now nothing short of a hole in his chin. And then there was the massive swelling right under his jaw.

  “Cynthia?” I called. “We got two infected people here.”

  “Back away from them!” Cynthia barked.

  I kept my eyes on the pair as I took a step back. I could hear the sound of feet running for me, but I was too transfixed to take my eyes off of the pair.

  “What happened?” I could not help but ask.

  “They said they had the cure…” the man started, but he began to choke and gasp as coughs wracked his frame. I saw blood trickle from the corner of his mouth.

  “Tish demanded that every citizen that had not demonstrated immunity come forward and accept the vaccine,” the woman picked up the narrative. “When we loaded up the payment for these supposed doctors and their crew on the carts after the demonstration, one of the people on the work detail passed out. Nobody thought anything about it. It was treated like heat exhaustion. The person was taken to the hospital…and the team of doctors left with their payment and escort. Probably five days later, people were all coming down with this sort of flu. Then the cheeseballs started showing up—”

  “The cheeseballs?” I interrupted.

  The woman pointed to the boil on her cheek. “That’s what folks started calling them when they burst and that thick, cheese-like crap comes out.”

  I nodded and she continued.

  “Pretty soon, damn near everybody was incapacitated. That was when they returned…only, instead of it just being the five so-called doctors, it was a gang of thirty. They knew where we kept everything. They were either really observant when we gathered our payment, or else they had people watching. Either way, we couldn’t do a damn thing to stop them.

  “The handful of people who were already immune and did not need the shot had been killed in their sleep probably just before sunrise, so we had a few dozen zombies walking around inside the walls.” The woman began her own coughing fit and had to stop her tale.

  I looked up to see Cynthia, Jim, Jackson, and Paula all standing close enough that I knew they’d heard everything, or damn near everything. They all had very different expressions on their faces. Paula looked annoyed and on the verge of angry. Cynthia looked curious. Jim…well, he just looked like Jim with his crooked half-smile. And Jackson had his lips pressed so tight that he could have turned coal to diamonds.

  “You said something about a demonstration?” Paula finally spoke once the woman looked to have regained her composure. As for the man, his eyes were closed and his breathing was coming in wet, ragged gasps for air. It was clear that he was struggling.

  “One of the doctors said that he wanted one of our people to step up and accept the vaccine. Then, they had to let a zombie bite them. He said that the subject could hold a gun to
the doctor’s head until that person was certain that he or she was not going to turn. Also, that person and his entire family would be given their dose without having to contribute to the payment,” the woman explained.

  “Jip Sinatra and his boyfriend stepped forward. Most folks knew that there wasn’t anything known that could scare the man, so it wasn’t a surprise that he volunteered. Sure enough, over two hours passed and his eyes never changed, never got the squiggles.

  “A few folks said they didn’t want the vaccination…said they had no need since their jobs kept them within the walls. I guess the doctors told Tish that it was an all or nothing deal. So they got the choice of the shot…or exile. That made it a no-brainer. When the—”

  The man beside this woman began to cough again, but there was something off. Then he started to claw at his throat and make the most horrific sounds I had ever heard. I took a step back and had my crossbow leveled before I even realized it.

  I was embarrassed and about to apologize when my eyes came up and I saw Paula looking at me. Her eyes flicked to the man and then to my weapon. She gave just the slightest nod, but I had no doubt that I’d seen it; and I knew what she meant.

  Looking down, I lined up my shot and fired. The bolt went through the left eye and I heard the tip strike the pavement. The man kicked a few times, and then he made a retching noise and a small gout of blood burst from his lips. Then he was still.

  I swung my weapon to the woman as she tried to drag herself to the man who now lay dead beside her. A numbness was seeping in, and I was actually preparing myself for the lashing out that would surely be coming from the man’s companion.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I could not have brought myself to do it. Please promise to make mine as quick.”

  “Excuse me?” I could not help it. The words just came out of my mouth before I knew it. That was absolutely not the response that I had been expecting from this person.

  “Please make my death as quick and painless as you did Tim’s.”

  We had our paths crossed somewhere. She was thanking me? And then it sunk in. They were suffering, and she knew that they were basically dead. She now wanted me to finish her off like I had her friend.

  “What are you waiting for?” Cynthia whispered in my ear.

  I shook my head to clear it. I had no idea how long I’d been just standing here considering the situation. However, it had been long enough for the woman to lose consciousness. I had the bolt in my hand that I’d used on the man and, after inspecting it, decided to use it as my reload. I could tell by the shaft that it was almost useless when it came to hitting a target much more than a few yards away, so I may as well get one more shot out of it that I would not have to aim or worry about.

  I squeezed the trigger and then turned to see Paula and Cynthia staring at me. After a few seconds, I got nervous. Jim had taken a few steps from me and was studying his boots. Jackson had turned his back.

  “What?” Seriously, both women just staring at me like I was a freaking zombie or something, and Jim seemed to want to look anywhere but at me. Then there was Jackson.

  “I guess you are more ready than I thought,” Paula said. “I should have trusted my instincts and believed in you from the start.”

  I was a little confused. After all, hadn’t she been the one to push for me to make this run? Sure, we’d had a little disagreement, but it wasn’t that big of a deal as far as I was concerned.

  “We need to get moving.” Cynthia broke the mood with a clap of her hands.

  I glanced at Jim. There was a look on his face like he’d just found out something horrible. Was he mad at me? Disappointed?

  “I think we know what we will find in there,” Paula groused as she took a step closer to the dead couple on the pavement and gave them a nudge with the toe of her boot.

  “We still need to look,” Cynthia insisted.

  Paula ended up being right. The place was full of dead bodies. Most were still strapped to gurneys, each showing the same symptoms. Even through the filter, the stench of death was gagging. It was made worse by the flies and vermin. I tried to ignore it, but I was getting worn thin by all of the rats scurrying away every single time that we rounded another corner. And the clouds of flies were a constant hum and buzz in my ears.

  There were times that we passed bodies that looked to be moving because of the bugs crawling all over them. Also, it was very clear that it had been a while. The bodies had already passed through rigor mortis, so we were past the twenty-four hour time of death. A few of the corpses had started to bloat in the heat.

  After what seemed like an eternity, we finally exited. I immediately felt the tinges of anxiety as we started across the large, open parking lot. We would check the known storage sites as well as the residences. I knew we would not be checking all of the residences, but I was curious to see inside some of them.

  Houses were a thing of the past as far as our community was concerned. We lived in a more communal and close society. As we walked past some of the dark and presumably empty homes, I could not help but be inquisitive. Not only that, but I could not imagine living in so much space. It seemed like a waste. Some of these homes were large enough to hold five or six families.

  At last we stopped in front of one. It was on a dead end street. Something about it seemed strangely familiar.

  “Are we going to go inside?” I finally asked.

  “You don’t recognize it?” Paula asked.

  “It seems familiar…but…” I studied the house, but nothing was coming. Then it came in a flood. “This was our house!” I was a little embarrassed by the way my voice sounded kind of squeaky.

  “Let’s go look inside,” Paula said, passing me as she made her way up the stairs.

  “You guys go ahead,” Jim said. “I want to check a few things. Since it does not look like they hit the houses, I want to see if there might be anything useful.”

  That was Jim Sagar in a nutshell. He could make an explosive device out of just about anything.

  “Fine,” Paula conceded, “but you be back to the rally point on time or I will have yur ass working in the kitchen when we get home.”

  I think that was probably the millionth time Jim had been threatened with kitchen duty since I’ve known him. Funny thing…he had never spent one single day in the kitchens that I am aware of.

  I scurried past and threw open the door. It was the same…but different. I ran up the stairs and opened the door to the room that I knew had been mine. Once more, there was familiarity, but still a difference that made it seem just a bit foreign.

  I went to the window and could see the empty field that opened up along the back fence of all the houses on this street. I heard the thump as Paula, Cynthia, and Jackson came in behind me.

  “I used to hunt rabbits in that field,” I said, my voice kind of a whisper as my mind flooded with memories.

  “The house is empty, but nothing was taken,” Jackson said. “The people, whoever they are, that did this…they did not loot the house. I say we spot check another ten or so to confirm it, and then hit the storage silos.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Paula agreed. But my mind was elsewhere.

  “Billy brought us here after everything went wrong somehow,” I sighed. “We had left the cabin…” I turned to face the two women and the giant of a man, “…the one the council uses now up on Lookout Hill. Then everything went wrong and we ended up here. But the people here were not very friendly. They even tried to kill Billy at least once.”

  I only got little flashes. I had been so young back then; it was just too long ago to remember with any clarity.

  “Let’s go,” Cynthia said with a soft smile.

  I followed them out, taking one last look at the room before closing the door and heading down the hallway. We stepped out onto the porch just as a lone walker rounded the corner. It paused, head moving back and forth like it was looking for something. Then it saw us and started our way.

&nbs
p; I don’t think I even broke stride as I walked past and jammed my spike into its head. Spikes were one of the more popular field weapons these days. They were small and easy to wield. About a foot long, spikes are fashioned from old pieces of metal.

  The blacksmith of Platypus Creek probably makes twenty or more a day. Some are personalized, some are inset with precious stones. One guy even had the ashes from his dog mixed in for whatever reason.

  Mine? Mine is just plain metal. It is sort of gray, sort of blue. The handle is wrapped with leather strips that have formed grooves over time and fit my grip perfectly.

  We moved through this huge residential area. I had heard that Island City had swollen to a population of over two thousand. It was almost impossible to accept that there could be that many living people in one area.

  It had only been the past few years that Immunes had been allowed to stay here at Island City. There was some sort of taboo involved. People were almost afraid of them. It is strange, but the people who are best suited for surviving are the outcasts of society. At least that is the case here. I wonder if there is a place for them…a place they can feel normal—

  “Up ahead!” Paula hissed.

  My gaze focused and my eyes immediately tracked to a huge mess of twisted metal and burnt perimeter wall. Some sort of massive cart had been driven into the barricade. This looked much worse than where we had entered.

  “This is obviously the main point of entry,” Cynthia said as we moved in for a closer look.

  I glanced around and could see five long warehouse buildings. All of them had their huge double doors open wide. I headed over, knowing what I would see before I looked in and confirmed that a good many of the floor-to-ceiling shelves were bare.

  “They were really thorough,” I called over my shoulder.

  Looking back in the warehouse, you could actually make out the tracks from where they walked in and out as they stripped the place.

  “Why would anybody do this?” I asked it out loud, and I was not surprised when silence was my answer. It did not make sense.