Downfall

by Michael S. Gardner

  Mary stepped closer, taking the opportunity to study how bad the wound had become. Her eyes cast across the pallid yet slightly discolored skin around the deep cut. It was only confirmation, for her at least, that the man was infected. It was as if his leg was already rotting, and it was starting to give off an odor that added to the suspicion.

  She’d never spoken a word to the man, yet she found herself pitying him, and Anna too. Mary knew Barry came to on occasion, but she’d never even had the chance to properly introduce herself. Kristin had guessed his ribs were broken and he’d suffered a concussion. Something else besides the crash caused the wound on his ankle, and that was the most likely reason for possible infection.

  “Do you really think all that’s necessary?”

  “Yes,” Kristin answered. Her voice was cold, almost lacking humanity. “I’m not trying to sound like a bitch, Mary. Really, I’m not. But what other options do we have? You ever seen a cut like this cause someone’s skin to look like that?”

  Mary slowly shook her head.

  “I think… No, I know it’s best to prepare for the worst,” Kristin affirmed with a quick nod. “We’ve all been out there. I don’t want that in here. I know you don’t either. But I don’t think that there’s anything else I can do for the man. I’m sorry.”

  “No one expects you to perform a miracle, Kristin,” Mary said, backing to the door. “We’ll deal with Anna when the time comes. I’ll go and look for something to restrain him. There’s gotta be some rope or something in the basement.”

  “Thanks,” Kristin said, and forced a smile.

  ***

  Heavy footfalls brought Anna out of a short, fitful nap. Shaking the phantoms of a dream she’d rather not recall, she opened her eyes to see Mary open the door to the basement and fall out of sight. She appeared determined, a strange look haunting her face.

  Eventually Anna found her way up to the room her husband occupied. Kristin was watching over him, back to the doorway, whispering something that Anna couldn’t quite make out.

  “Do you think he’s getting any better?”

  Kristin jumped, startled. “Oh, Anna, you scared me.” She placed a hand over her heart and laughed, trying to play it off. Strands of her blond hair fell across her face; she wiped them away and smiled.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Anna stepped in and placed a hand on her belly.

  “No, it’s perfectly fine. I was just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  It took Kristin a moment to answer. “About the past. Friends. Family. Stuff like that.”

  Anna nodded. “I think about my family all the time. Hell, I find myself thinking about people I never thought I would think about again; childhood friends, ex-boyfriends, old bosses. Part of me is always wondering if any of them made it.” She looked around the room for a moment before meeting Kristin’s stare. “I doubt they did, but I guess the hope brings me some peace.” Anna looked past Kristin, stealing a glance at Barry.

  “I know what you mean,” Kristin replied, her lips twitching into somewhat of a grim smile. “There are some exes I wouldn’t particularly mind seeing eaten alive by those rotting bastards, though.”

  The two shared a laugh.

  Anna stepped beside her and looked down at her husband. Barry was sweating, a bit paler, and still unconscious.

  “Do you think he’s getting any better?” Anna repeated her earlier, unanswered question.

  Kristin lowered her head. “He’s running a fever now, so—”

  The words gnawed at Anna’s heart. Her soul.

  “—I can only assume no.”

  Anna sniffled and nodded. “I understand. I,” she rubbed her belly, “we can’t thank you enough for what you and the rest have already done for us.”

  “It’s nothing, really,” Kristin said as she turned around. “From the bottom of my heart, Anna, I hope Barry pulls through, but none of his injuries explain why he’s… he’s been out like this. Or his complexion.” She shook her head and sighed. “Are you sure that he wasn’t scratched by one of those things? I hate to ask…”

  Anna rested a hand on Kristin’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “It’s fine, Kristin,” she said through a forced smile. “I know how it has to look. He cut himself when we were leaving our house. He was in the middle of packing and fell over some baby stuff. His leg got snagged on the corner of one of his ammo tins. I told him to slow down, but he was in such a rush.”

  Kristin looked up and blinked a few times. “Well, do you think there’s any possibility that his wound could have come in contact with infected blood?”

  Anna shrugged. “I—I don’t know.” She took another look around the room. “The boys rescued us, but we were both unconscious. Do you think—”

  “I’m sure one of them would have noticed and said something.”

  Anna remembered how the others had spoken of Alex fighting off several infected before pulling the two out of the car. Matt and Cole had been fending off the dead attempting to surround their van. Could Alex have been so careless as to somehow contaminate Barry’s laceration? There was no way he could have known, she thought. The notion stewed for several moments.

  “I’ll leave you three alone, okay?”

  “Thanks, Kristin. For everything.”

  Kristin stood, wiping her hands on her shirt. “I’m just glad I can do my part, Anna, really.”

  As soon as the door shut, Anna leaned down beside her husband, snatching his hand like a child would candy. Tears welled in her eyes. She was surprised that she’d held out as long as she had. Crying would bring unwanted and unnecessary attention, taking time away from her family.

  Barry’s hands were cold, not freezing, yet much colder than they had ever been before. Anna noticed his rapid eye movements and the pockets of black dots forming around the sags beneath them. His stubbly, pudgy face was set in a partial grimace. Brushing a tear away, Anna ran a hand through Barry’s coarse, sweaty hair.

  She knew.

  But the fact was one that could never be accepted until the final, damning moment.

  Barry, her husband, father to their unborn child, was going to die. Anna needed him now more than ever and he was… was…

  She couldn’t hold on anymore. Anna buried her face in Barry’s blanket, gripping his hands as hard as she could and said, “Barry, I need you. Wake up. Please.”

  In her fifth month of pregnancy, Anna Hamley had never felt so alone.

  ***

  “We’re still going to restrain him?”

  Kristin nodded, taking a seat across from Mary at the kitchen table. “I think Anna knows.”

  “About Barry?” Mary craned her head and lifted an eyebrow.

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  Kristin focused on a battery-operated clock on the wall next to the back door. “A person gets a certain look in their eye when they know the end is coming, whether for them or a loved one.” She shifted in her seat and leaned forward, looking right at Mary. “Seen it too many times before.”

  Silence took hold over the kitchen while the women stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Kristin was all too familiar with this feeling. Time and time again, she’d watched the plagues of calm wash over those in mourning or those aware of impending misfortunes. Anna had that look, and now it was plastered on Mary’s face.

  “I’ve got an idea.” Mary pushed her seat out and went to the counter beside the sink. She grabbed two plastic cups from a small stack, then the spiced rum from atop the fridge.

  “Soda or beer for a chaser?” she asked, looking back.

  “I’ll take a soda, thanks.”

  Mary brought the goods back to the table. Kristin poured the sodas while Mary mixed the alcohol. She always made her drinks strong. Now was not a time for an exception.

  “It’ll take some of the edge off,” she said with a grin.

  Wincing after her first sip, Kristin asked, “Mary, do you think it was a mistake bringing those two in
? I mean, since they got here the other day, we’ve all known it was likely Barry wouldn’t make it.”

  “That’s probably the nicest thing I’ve heard you say all day,” Mary said. She set her cup down and waited for a response.

  “Look.” Kristin leaned in further, taking another sip. “I get it. I can be a real bitch sometimes. I’ve been cursed with this gift since childhood.” Deep down, she hoped that Mary would catch the humor, but the woman’s steely gaze didn’t soften. “Mary, when you work in a hospital, you get used to the grim, the dark. I’ve seen what some would call ‘It All,’ and the truth eventually numbs you. At least it did for me. ‘The truth hurts.’ That saying is true now more than ever. I’m just asking if you feel the same way.”

  Mary sighed, tapping the side of her cup with her index finger. “Well, at times I do, Kristin. But you do remember how we found you, right? You’d be dead if Matt hadn’t pulled over and saved your ass from those runners.”

  Kristin nodded, swallowing a mouthful of her mixed drink and a bit of her pride.

  “I just want you to know this: You and I are more alike than I think you understand.” Mary pointed to herself, her eyes glued to Kristin. “It was me who asked them that very question when we saw you.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Kristin said, finding a strange appreciation for Mary’s statement.

  “And I don’t blame you for asking questions like that,” Mary replied, lifting up her cup to take another sip. “It’s perfectly fine to be on edge. We’re not dealing with a child that fell off a bike, you know. Just watch what you say, especially when she’s around.” She nodded up to the master bedroom.

  “Hah,” Kristin laughed. “I’ve got countless stories about kids falling off bikes.”

  “Well, we’ve got nothing but time.” Mary downed her entire cup and went for a refill.

  CHAPTER 3

  Matt watched Alex in the rearview mirror. The kid was curious of his surroundings, but the expression on his face bore nothing more than discontent.

  “How come you two seem to enjoy going out there?” Alex motioned to the diminishing cloud of smoke behind them.

  Matt looked to Cole, then back to Alex.

  “We do what we have to,” Cole answered, taking his trucker hat off the dashboard. He put it on and adjusted it for a moment. “It’s a different world out there now.”

  “I know that,” Alex said. “But you treat those people out there like they’re monsters. It’s like they were never people to you two at all.”

  Cole took a deep breath, tossed the joint out the window, and turned around. “Look, kid, those things out there aren’t human anymore. They’re not. That’s it. In fact, though it may be hard to believe, they are monsters—just like you said. Every last one of them.” Cole pointed out the back window to some straggling creeper that barely even noticed the van’s presence. “Humans like you and me don’t go around eating each other. They were human, yes, but once they rise, they’re hunters, and we’re the hunted.”

  Alex crossed his arms.

  “Look, man, “Cole said. “ Those sick fucks out there are dead. They have no soul, no heart, and no reasoning. No characteristics of humanity other than the bodies they control. What once was is no more, and you need to never forget that, bud. The moment you do is the moment you die. I,” he looked over, “Matt and I, we both watched as those rotten sacks of shit clawed at my family, ripping them apart while they screamed for help. I didn’t even think about doing what was necessary then, and you know what?”

  Alex lowered his head and Matt sighed.

  “They’re dead. They’re all dead, Alex!” Cole growled, nostrils flaring. “I watched as my parents died, and so did Matt. If we’d acted then as we do now, they might still be alive. Every night, every goddamn night, their screams haunt me in my sleep, and it’s because I should have done what was necessary. But I didn’t, and their deaths are what I have to show for it.”

  “Calm down, Cole.” Matt said, shooting his friend a meaningful glance. “Christ, the boy just asked a question.”

  Cole let out a few deep breaths, turned around, and distracted himself by looking out his window.

  “Look, Alex,” Matt said while keeping an eye on the road. “What I think Cole was getting at is that those things out there took everything away from us in one fell swoop. Any remaining survivors, including us, are drastically outnumbered, and the Zs gain numbers as each day passes. And they’ll do so until there is absolutely nothing left but them.”

  He paused to take a right turn, heading into the neighborhood where the rest of the group was staying.

  “The odds of surviving are stacked against us,” Matt continued. “And it’s all because of them. So when you ask if we get some sort of fulfillment from killing them, well, the answer is not only a ‘Yes,’ it’s a ‘Hell Yes.’ Why not?”

  Bracing himself on the roof of the van, Alex said, “You’re gonna get yourselves killed acting that way. I mean, back at the station you could’ve kept going, but that wasn’t good enough; you needed an explosion. What if that car hit us or more runners ambushed us? What would we have done then, huh?”

  Matt glanced at the kid through the rearview mirror. “We would have fought, just like we’ve been doing.”

  “Eventually we’re all gonna die,” Cole muttered. “That’s life—especially now. We all need to find some sort of enjoyment while we still can. I find it in the form of killing those bastards, so sue me. ”

  Alex rolled his eyes.

  “All of us have been unwillingly put in this position,” Cole said as he buckled his seatbelt, “and we need to make the best of it while we can.”

  The van swerved, jerking its occupants to the right. An undead teenager in gothic attire disappeared under the hood. The van bounced as it ran the creature over.

  “What was that?” Alex said, nearly falling over.

  “Just another bump in the road, kid.” Matt answered, grinning.

  Alex huffed and grew quiet. The point had been made.

  Matt applied the brakes and hit the left turn signal. As the van crept down the narrow road, he stared at the vacant yards and dead vehicles and wondered why he even bothered with the signal. A habit, he guessed. Something miniscule left from the Old World. The thought brought a smile to his face.

  Enjoy it while we can…

  “Let’s head over to the Robinson’s,” Cole suggested as the patch of woods leading to their driveway came into sight. “We got enough daylight for a quick trip.”

  Matt looked to the sky; already it was darkening.

  “Besides,” Cole added. “It would be nice to see to how they’re holding up.”

  “Yeah.” Matt nodded. “I think we have enough time if we keep it short.”

  “Are you guys sure?” Alex asked. “We’re almost home, and I’m starving.”

  Matt caught a glimpse of Alex’s pursed lips in the rearview. “Come on, Alex. Take it easy. Everything’s gonna be all right.”

  “Yeah,” Cole said. “We’ll be home in no time.”

  “Whatever.”

  Cole chuckled and keyed the radio as they passed the gravel driveway. “John, you there, man?”

  A moment passed.

  “Hey, buddy! How’s everything with you guys?” John’s deep voice came through with a hiss of static.

  “Just got back from doing some shopping, and we figure’d we’d stop on by for a few minutes.”

  “Shopping, eh?” John’s voice boomed back. “Find anything on special?”

  “Just a few canned goods and drinks.” Cole looked to Matt and laughed. Into the radio, he added, “Oh and we found this nice house with a basement.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Ask Matt about when you see him.”

  Alex laughed.

  “Good one,” Matt said mockingly, turning the wheel to the right. The Robinson’s rancher came into view.

  “The streets look clear,” Cole said into the radio. “We’re pullin
g up now.”

  “Alex.” Matt turned around after parking in the driveway behind the old Ford pickup. “Enjoy the view from the top of the van. We won’t be long.”

  “O…kay.”

  As Alex climbed with his rifle, Matt and Cole rummaged through the mess in back. Supplies in hand, they walked to the front porch.

  John Robinson stepped out with a bright smile. He wore a flannel shirt tucked into a pair of denim jeans that appeared a size or three smaller than he needed. His gut spilled over the belt, but Matt could still make out the rebel flag of his buckle beneath the gray and black shirt. The man looked to have had a few too many beers since retiring from the shipyard, but the firm grip of his large hand betrayed his slicked back gray hair and out-of-shape stature.

  “Good to see you guys,” he said, releasing his grip from Matt’s hand and turning to Cole. He cocked a brow as his eyes gazed past Cole. “Who’s that?”

  Cole hooked a thumb over his shoulder as Matt set down his portion of the supplies. “That’s our resident squirt, Alex.”

  Dana, John’s wife, appeared in the entryway with a foil-covered pan. Her smile wasn’t as gleaming as her husband’s, but it still a comforting sight—Matt suspected she was a few years older than John. The skin on her pale cheeks sagged just enough that it was noticeable. Dark blue veins ran up her thin arms and into the sleeves of her dark blue sweater. A scowl crossed her face at the sight of the armed teenager.

  “My god,” she said. “How old is he?”

  “Thirteen,” answered Cole.

  Dana shook her head. Waves of gray washed through her faded blond hair.

  “He’s much too young,” she said.

  John chuckled. “Never too young to shoot,” he said, making sure his voice carried to the kid. He waved at Alex, who nodded with a smile and then returned to his detail.

  “He’s also our resident sniper,” said Matt as he returned with a case of diet soda and a few bags of various flavored potato chips. “Damn good with that thing.”