"We shouldn't have come here," someone from Noah's Ark said. "Why did we come all the way here? It's so dangerous!"
"We're fine," Sarah tried to reassure him. "We're safe in here."
The man shook his head. "That place we found you at looked fine," he insisted. "Why couldn't we just stay there for the night? Why did we have to come in the dark?" The other survivors were calmer than he was, but they all agreed with the sentiment.
Sarah sighed. "I didn't want to tell you back at the shop, because there was no time, frankly," she said. "As some of you know, we had an attack last night from some new kind of zombie. Those of you from Noah's Ark haven't seen them, and you really can't imagine how dangerous they were."
The survivors from Sarah's group solemnly nodded in agreement.
"When Wayne and I went to find out where the new zombie came from, we tracked it into the woods and stumbled on some people there. They looked like they were... I don't know, military or something. But I don't think they were part of the actual military. And they were doing tests on the new zombies. I don't know exactly what they were doing, but they had these animals chained to the ground that the zombies had eaten, like they were seeing how well they attacked them or something."
Recognition struck Carly as she remembered the cow that she and Sarah had seen the night before.
The whole group stood in shock as Sarah told them what little she knew of the event. She didn't have any answers for them, and really just created more questions, but now that they had a safe moment to spare, she thought telling them the truth was prudent.
When she finished and the group took a moment to cope with the shock, Sarah directed them to start pulling out supplies and settling in for the night. They made sure the apartment door was locked and they lit some candles around the living room, creating a warming orange glow that soothed all of their nerves.
When the survivors became more comfortable, they started to spread out, searching the rest of the place to see for themselves that it was safe and to scope out what they might call their beds for the night. Everyone eventually sat around in the warming light of the living room, sharing some water and a little bit of food from the sacks of supplies that they brought. Carly sat away from the group between the living room and the kitchen, and Sarah could see that she was still upset. She pulled her aside into the bathroom and lit a candle on the vanity, giving them just enough light to see and creating an unintentionally creepy setting. She made sure the door was shut and Carly walked over and sat on the edge of the bathtub, holding her hands in her lap. She still wasn't impressed with Sarah, and her face showed it.
"What's up?" Sarah asked her.
"I don't know. What's up?"
"Carly, don't do that to me."
"Do what?" she said stubbornly.
Sarah sighed. "Look, I get that you're upset, and I get that you don't like these people, or maybe you don't trust them or whatever it is. But I'm telling you, I know them and they're good people."
"Do you?" Carly asked. "All of them?"
Sarah relented. "Not all of them. But I know Wayne, and I would trust him with my life. Hell, I did trust him with my life, and if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be talking to you right now."
Carly's eyes softened. "Really?"
Sarah nodded. "He's a good guy, Carly. And he'll be good for the group. I know you're not thrilled about burgeoning the size of us, and to be honest, neither am I. I came from a big group, and I know what a headache it can be to run. I like our small group too, but it's also kind of nice to have more people, isn't it? You know how it could be some nights with just the eight of us."
"Yeah..." Carly said. She was silent for a long time and her eyes showed the first signs of wetness in the dim light. "It's just, I was with my boyfriend for so long, and after he was killed, I kinda clung to you. It was fine when we picked up a few people, but now it feels like I'm losing you. I thought me and you would stick together and be okay, maybe figure out somewhere better to be. And I don't mean that in a homo way. I guess I'm still a little lost on my own, and it just seems like you had your shit together and you knew how to handle yourself. Because no offense to my boyfriend, but he was kind of a pussy."
"I get that," Sarah said. "But don't think I've forgotten about you. You've been the best company I've had in a long time, and I don't take that for granted. If it was anyone other than Wayne and his group, I wouldn't have let them in with us. But we can trust him, and... quite frankly, I need him."
"Why?" Carly asked.
"I'm still new to this whole leadership thing. Sometimes I think I'm doing okay, but sometimes I'm not so sure. I still want to play my role, but having Wayne here really just gives me the confidence to do it. I knew him back at Noah's Ark. That's where everyone with him is from. He was one of the top people, and he was running it when I left. I left at the time because I thought that's what I needed, and maybe I did—some time to clear my head. And now that I have that, I'm ready to be with other people again, and even lead them, but it's still new to me." Sarah nudged Carly in the shoulder. "So bear with me."
Carly stared around at the dark edges of the bathroom, running it over in her head. "But you're not gonna take in any more people after this, are you? I mean, you already took in some stranger on the way here."
"Come on, he seemed like he was really in trouble. You gotta give me that one."
"Okay," Carly said, "I guess I have to. But he's the last one, right?"
"He's the last one," Sarah replied. "I promise."
Carly stood up from the bathtub and Sarah ambushed her with a hug. Carly stood as stiff as a board at first, surprised and awkward at the encounter, but then she gave in and returned the gesture.
"Hey, what's that on your neck?" Sarah asked, noticing a small cut just below her ear.
"What?" Carly said, stepping over to look at her dim reflection in the mirror. "Oh, that? I don't know, that spot's been a little itchy. Maybe I scratched it open."
Sarah rushed to her and grabbed her hard by the shoulders. "Are you going to be okay?" she said dramatically. "Don't die on me!"
"Oh shut up!" Carly said, breaking into a smile and smacking her in the arm. "Jeez, I think I'd rather be outside with the zombies than stuck here for the night with you."
"You love me," Sarah teased, squeezing her.
"In your dreams."
The two of them returned to the living room and Sarah looked over the group to make sure everything was okay. Everyone sat and talked, either on the floor or the dusty furniture, and everything was calm. The new man, Ron, seemed to be acclimating himself to the group, chatting busily with someone about his encounter with the zombies that he had escaped from.
Sarah noticed Barry sitting off at the edge of the group staring down at a picture in his hands. She sauntered over to him and sat down cross-legged next to him. "Who's that?" she asked him, nodding toward the picture of an old woman with her white hair in a bouffant.
His eyes remained on the small portrait that looked like something someone would keep in their wallet, as if in reverie. He dragged his gaze over to Sarah and his face lit up at the sight of her. She half-expected him to address her as his dead wife again, but he seemed to be in a clear state of mind. "That's my wife," he said.
"And her name's Selma, right?" Sarah asked carefully, confirming that he knew who was who.
"That's my baby doll," he said with a smile, staring back at the picture. "My Selma. And I'm going to find you, sweetie. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I know you're in the city somewhere." He paused, looking uncertain for a moment. "You have to be." He continued to stare down at the photo as tears welled up in his eyes.
Sarah tried to comfort him, but he didn't seem to pay any more attention to her. She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder then stood up and moved over to Wayne, chatting with him for the next little while. When everyone started to get sleepy, they all turned in for the night, each of them finding their own makeshift bed, whether a lucky one or two
actually got to sleep on a bed or some others who had to make do with a thin blanket or bunched up set of sheets on the hard floor. Sarah double-checked everything to make sure they were safe, first and foremost on the list being that the front door was locked with the deadbolt. They put all the weapons away on the kitchen counter for the night, though Sarah and Wayne each kept a handgun near them. Sarah stayed in the living room with Carly, Wayne, Barry, and some others to sleep. Despite the circumstances, it didn't take long for everyone to drift off.
Sometime later—exactly how long, or what time it was, she had no way of knowing—Sarah's eyes snapped open. She had a feeling in her stomach that was the exact same as what she felt the night before when she was standing on the crate looking out over the street at the lawnmower repair shop—the feeling that something was wrong, but not knowing what. Perhaps it was an old mother's intuition that was ingrained in her, and it clutched her now, leaving her to look around the darkened room for any sign of distress.
But everything was quiet. Everyone was sleeping peacefully and there was nothing amiss. If it weren't for the front door standing wide open, she might have fallen right back to sleep.
Sarah sat bolt upright, staring at the darkness behind the open doorframe, her heart pounding. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust and make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing, then she sprung up to her feet, glancing around the room again, trying to find out what went wrong. She confirmed that everyone was safely and peacefully sleeping, everyone except for Barry, whose thin pile of sheets he had been sleeping on now lay empty.
"Where did you go?" Sarah asked quietly as she frantically looked around the room.
"The old guy?"
Sarah almost jumped a foot in the air, not expecting anyone to be awake. But Carly lay propped up on her elbow a few feet away, looking up at her.
"I saw him sleepwalking earlier," Carly continued. "He kept moving around by the window over there, then I saw him head for the door. I got up and brought him back to bed, and I thought he went to sleep..."
Sarah snatched the pistol she had lying on the floor next to her and headed for the door. Carly threw the covers off herself and jumped up to her feet, following after her. Sarah paused at the door, patting her jeans pockets for something. She pulled out a mini flashlight and clicked on the button at the end, then the two of them slipped into the hallway.
A coldness greeted them and made their skin recoil. A heavy silence held dominion over the hallway as Sarah waved the flashlight in both directions. The area was empty, and the doorways to other apartments surrounding them leered at them, menacingly inviting them in.
Sarah tried to decide where to start looking when she heard a faint noise coming from the far end of the hallway away from the stairwell. It was indiscernible at first, but as she focused and really listened, she heard that someone was crying. She and Carly exchanged a glance and they made their way down the hall, Sarah holding her gun at the ready as they silently slipped past each doorway, ready for anything to jump out at them. The flashlight's beam stretched into the darkness and eventually petered out in the distance, but it lit up a figure standing at the end of the hall. As they got closer, they saw that it was Barry. He was hunched over slightly with his face in his hands as he sobbed alone in the darkness.
Sarah slipped the gun under her waistband and carefully approached him. "Barry?" she said softly.
He didn't respond.
She moved closer and reached out for him, expecting him to jump or start screaming when she touched him. But he didn't react as her hand fell on his shoulder, and she moved around to see his face. "Barry, come on," she said as she gently pulled his hands away from his face.
He looked up at her at last, wiping the tears out of his reddened eyes. His face was an absolute mess with snot running out of his nose and coating his mouth and chin. "I found her," he said.
"Found who?" she asked.
"My Selma. I found her."
"Oh Barry, let's get you back to bed," Sarah replied. "We can talk about it in the morning." She knew he was confused again and didn't understand where he was, so she added, "We're in an apartment building right now and we have to get you back to the room."
"I know where I am, and I'm telling you she's in there," he said angrily, pointing to a door next to them. "I'm not crazy. My Selma is in there, and oh god... oh god..." He fell to his knees and started sobbing harder than ever.
Sarah and Carly each grabbed an arm and hoisted him back up, steadying him and helping him settle down. Sarah didn't know what to believe, but she certainly couldn't believe that he had actually found his wife. The odds of randomly stumbling across her was ridiculous, especially in some desolate apartment building crawling with zombies. But, not knowing what else to do, she decided to go with it. "Can you show me?"
Barry nodded as he pulled his arm away from her and dragged his hand across his face then wiped the snot on his shirt. He stepped forward and opened the door to the apartment as Sarah stayed right behind him with her gun drawn. She handed the flashlight over to Carly who lit the way for them as they snuck through the empty and silent apartment. Barry led them down a hallway toward a bedroom. The hallway was in utter disrepair, caked in dirt and dust and grime with garbage and some kind of rubble strewn about. They watched their footing as they made their way through, and as they got close to the bedroom, they heard someone groaning.
"She's in there," Barry said. "In the closet."
Sarah and Carly stepped into the room as Barry waited in the hallway. To the left, close to the doorway, stood a closet. The entire area was a mess, and as Carly pointed the flashlight upward, they saw that there was an actual hole in the ceiling, and a big one at that. It looked like a grenade went off, causing the ceiling and sections of wall to collapse, filling the closet with a big pile of rubble. And pinned underneath it, with just her upper body sticking out, was a zombie. One who looked just like the woman in the picture Barry was looking at.
"Oh my God," Sarah uttered.
Selma looked at them, her eyes almost swimming in her head. One of her arms was freed from the rubble and she reached out for them, her mouth hanging open and groaning hungrily for food. That slight edge that zombies always gained when they spotted a meal—that bit of aggression—was present in her, but it was less pronounced than normal, like she had been pinned in the closet for a very long time and had become used to not being capable of eating.
Barry accompanied them in the room, looking more composed than he had out in the hallway. Sarah regarded him with such sadness and pity, and she found herself speechless, not knowing what to do for him.
As if in response to her thought, his eyes slowly made their way up her body to the gun tucked in her pants. "Sarah," he said with a measured voice, "can you... can you help me?"
She looked down, clueing in to what he was talking about. "Barry, I don't know..."
"Please," he said. "I can't leave her like this."
She hesitated. If the circumstance were any different, she wouldn't hesitate to do what he wanted. But being trapped in an apartment building for the night that was crawling with zombies while her companions slept safely, firing a gun didn't seem like a good idea. "I have to think about it," she said at last. "Can we... just go back to the apartment for now and sleep on it? Deal with it in the morning when we can all think a bit clearer?" She cringed, knowing she could have sounded a bit more convincing, and she expected him to start arguing.
But instead he nodded like a hurt child who was sad but understood when his parents told him no. She waited a moment longer for him to change his mind, but that was it; he resigned himself to agreement. He didn't make a fuss as they led him out of the bedroom and away from his apparently long-deceased wife. They got back to the apartment without running into anything, and Sarah locked the door again. They both put Barry back to bed while everyone else slept, and he agreed that he wouldn't do any more adventuring for the night. As Sarah and Carly lay down, they glanc
ed at each other and Sarah gave her a look that thanked her for helping out. Carly smiled and then the two of them laid their heads down and fell back to sleep.
It only seemed like a moment later when Sarah opened her eyes again. But Carly was soundly sleeping, and at first she thought she was having déjà vu. She looked over at Barry and saw only empty sheets again.
And then she heard the gunshot.
It was far away, like it happened in another apartment. Sarah reached down for her gun and was met with only an empty patch of carpet. Her hands patted around frantically for it, but then she realized it was gone and she knew exactly what had happened.
As the people around her were roused from their sleep, groggy and confused, she immediately sprang up to her feet and went for the door, which was closed this time, but unlocked. She ran back to the other apartment, turning on the flashlight as the cold hallway blurred past her. She threw open the door and ran for the bedroom, ready to pull the gun away from Barry and drag him back to the apartment.
But when she rounded the corner, she found Barry lying on the floor with the sooty beige carpet around him stained red. He clutched the gun in his hand that was splayed out to the side, and as Sarah dragged her gaze across his body in an almost drugged manner, she saw the bullet wound in the side of his head.
As she approached him in horror, she heard a soft groaning next to her.
Selma still struggled under the rubble, reaching out for her and hoping against hope that she could finally have a meal.
And then came the other groans from behind Sarah—the ones from the hallway as all the other zombies that had been tucked away in various apartments, creeping around in the darkness, were now starting to stir from the noise.
7
Firefight
The hallway stretched in front of her like a prisoner on death row walking to the electric chair. She could see the apartment from where she was, very faintly at the other end of the hall, but the space in the middle seemed to stretch endlessly. Her legs churned and she sailed through the darkness as all the empty doorways seemed to reach out for her on either side. Her arms swung at her sides, and her finger was tight on the trigger of the pistol, almost tight enough to fire a shot. She prayed that she would get back to the apartment without running into anything, but as the first gray and disheveled corpse sauntered out of a room to her right up ahead, her prayer was left unanswered.
Zombie Apocalypse Series (Book 4): In Shadows Page 7
