The feral threw its own hook in return, and I brought up my forearms to block the blow, but the force of the impact threw me sideways into the water. I felt my back smack against something hard, sending a rush of pain up my spine, but I couldn’t stop moving, rolling away just before the feral brought down both of its fists. I noticed there wasn’t a splash of water, so I looked to see we were on a patch of ground. Given, it was mostly soft dirt and mud, but I had landed against a large rock.
An idea bloomed, but the feral didn’t hesitate as it swung both fists around like a sledgehammer that caught me in the left arm. I found myself hurled through the air and into the water once again, but, to make matters worse, I couldn’t feel my arm as I got up. Pushing myself along with my right arm, I stood and crouched into a defensive stance.
When the feral attempted to land another strike with its sledgehammer move, I ducked to the side, stepping in and catching its head in a sleeper hold. While I knew this wouldn’t help for long, and maybe these things didn’t need as much oxygen, I locked my forearm in and pulled as hard as I could against its esophagus, pinning my arm in place.
As it pulled on my arm, yanking with enough might to pull me out of the water, I lifted my leg and brought my heel down with as much strength as I could muster. The feral’s knee split and I felt the bone snap under the pressure, but I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the thrashing behind me. Several gunshots went off around me, but nothing hit me or the feral in my grasp, so I didn’t pause.
I kept my foot in place and used it as leverage to propel myself and the feral to the ground, landing with my shoulder against the rock. A new surge of pain spiked, but I ignored it as I shoved my knee into the feral’s back and pulled with my forearm. I didn’t stop until the feral was bent at an unnatural angle and vertebrae popped out of place, effectively snapping its back in half. While I didn’t know if that would stop it, I hoped it would at least give me a second to transition my arm around.
The opening came and I withdrew my arm, grabbing a handful of tangled hair and smashing its face down. Congealed blood spurted up along the rock, almost artistic in the moonlight, but I drew its head back to repeat the process. With my knee pinned against its back, the feral continued to fight, flailing its limbs and fracturing its spine further in disturbing ripples underneath the skin. I felt the impact of bone on rock until my arms were numb, blood and brain matter covering the area.
Just when I thought I was done, I heard a scream back on the dock and felt something crash into me from the side, sending me back into the water. I barely had time to draw in breath before I went under, feeling hands press down on my chest. Realizing I may have spoken too soon about not drowning, I fought against it, but I was exhausted and the water dragged down every move I made.
Knowing I wouldn’t last long that way, I reached out for anything to use as a weapon. My fingers found something in the water and I couldn’t tell what it was until I pulled. Flesh slid along bone in my hand and I realized I had found the zombie that I killed earlier. Thinking back to the hotel and knowing how much the water would have exacerbated decomposition, I took a risk and, keeping a firm grip on its limb, pushed my foot against the body.
Using all the energy I had left, I pulled and felt the joint loosen, then tear off. With my vision beginning to darken and my lungs burning for air, I lashed out with the limb and smacked into the feral with a piece of its dinner. I momentarily had a funny thought of trying to play fetch, but I pushed that laugh away as the feral was caught off-balance and toppled to the side.
I rolled out of the water, holding myself on all-fours long enough to take in a few sharp breaths, before I saw the feral stand in my peripheral vision. I found the limb in my hand to be a forearm, so I gripped it tightly at the ends and snapped it against my knee.
The feral was coming at me, so I had to act fast. With the arm now broken, I grabbed the hand and pulled against the wrist. It was the nastiest feeling ever, peeling decomposed zombie flesh off of an arm, but I was able to expose the white of bone. By this point, the feral was on top of me and preparing to strike, so I collapsed to my knees to undercut the wide swing of its arm and stabbed the broken forearm inside its knee.
It didn’t feel the pain, but I continued to thrust until I had skewered one leg and pinned it into the soil. That wouldn’t hold it long, especially since it writhed in frustration and swiped at me as I pulled myself away, but I only needed enough time to unclip my shotgun and level it with the feral’s eyes.
“Shouldn’t play with your dinner.” These things had been human, much like the zombies, but they were worse. They were conscious of their actions, so they knew they had killed women and children without remorse. It was sickening, and I took great satisfaction as I pulled the trigger and watched the feral’s head explode before me.
At last, I was able to catch my breath as silence fell on St. Martin. It was a long while before my adrenaline started to run down and exhaustion started taking hold.
“Eric?” I heard Jessica’s voice, but it sounded fuzzy. “Eric?” she repeated, and I glanced up to find her standing next to Dave on the dock. With no visible threats, I holstered the shotgun.
“Are you okay?” My eyes watched behind them, but Dave nodded and reassured me that the ferals were dead. Just as I was about to ask my next question, the batter stepped up to the dock and took a knee. He was clearly shaken, out of breath and covered in gore, but I had no words to comfort him.
I looked to my left, where the second feral had attacked from, and saw Larry’s body floating in the murky water, with the third trucker’s arm dangling off the edge of the dock farther down. The batter was alone now, and he knew it.
I remember in the beginning of everything, I was worried that I would lose my humanity and become more like the zombies, but the ferals had shown me something worse, more evil. I had seen true savagery, the kind that fueled nightmares, and knew what it took to fight it.
But how many times could I venture down that road before there was no turning back?
Chapter 88
Day 239
We spent the night burying the bodies of the two truckers, doing what little we could to help the batter mourn his friends, before he got back in his truck without another word and drove off. After he left, Jessica and Dave helped me drag the ferals to the bonfire and toss them in. Sparks flew and I halfway expected dark clouds to project into the sky, as evil as the ferals were, but this was no fairy tale. Good didn’t always triumph over evil and the only fifty shades of grey were varying degrees of morality that separated the living from the dead. Nothing happened beyond the crackling of roaring flames, the sounds of which were strangely calming.
When it was all done, I sat on the edge of the dock, watching the final ripples of the murky water settle before allowing myself to take a deep breath. The antibiotics still running through my system probably saved me from any diseases in the water, but I was very aware of how close things had come. Looking over the water, what little moonlight managed to pierce the clouds didn’t allow much, but I could barely recognize the faint reflection staring back at me in the water below. The man beneath the surface was hollow, ravaged by anger, revenge, and self-doubt. Dave and Jessica scavenged the truck left by the dead men for supplies and quietly sat down on the dock to eat, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I glanced over my shoulder at desolate remains of Saint Martin, seeing past them to the horrors left by the ferals.
Was there something I could have done to avoid the fight? I kept thinking to myself that, if I hadn’t been leading our group, maybe we wouldn’t have been here, like I made a crucial mistake or overlooked something important. Or maybe the fight was all I had left inside, an animal turned savage after enduring so much violence. Maybe I should have just died back in Indiana, allowing Mills closure and letting everyone move on from the broken man I had become.
A cool breeze picked up, carrying with it a familiar scent that caused me to perk up. Deep in the woods, shrouded in m
orning mist, stood Samantha, a pitying expression on her face. Despite being in my head, the long dress falling to her ankles was a deep red, almost crimson, as if even my memories were tainted with the bloodshed of my actions.
I felt movement cross behind me and Jessica’s hand landed on mine, gently squeezing and snapping me out of my reverie. When I blinked, Samantha was gone and I could only wonder if the haunting thoughts would ever come to an end.
“Dave and I were talking, Eric. We’ve seen that look on men before and we’re worried.”
“I don’t have a look. These days, this is just my face.” I tried to feign a smile and failed.
“Come on, Eric, talk to me. What’s on your mind?” I stayed silent for a while, considering my words as dull rays of orange began to appear on the horizon. The sunrise washed over the city, illuminating the world like the darkness of the night before never happened. The glistening blood across the deck and the heavy stench of burnt flesh told a different story, though.
“I remember the beginning, when everything fell apart, when I was unable to save anyone I cared about. I didn’t feel angry, but hatred filled the emptiness inside. Then I found Katherine and everything changed. I thought, maybe I was being given a second chance to save someone.” I shook my head slowly. “I’ve lost count of the bodies. I just wanted to kill zombies and get revenge, Jessica, but so much of the blood on my hands is human…”
“People you’ve had to kill to survive! You were pushed to extremes that no one would blame you for, Eric.”
“That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? Yes, I was forced into a corner, but could I have avoided that corner in the first place?” I ran my hand through my hair in frustration, more at myself than anything. “I just don’t know anymore, Jessica. I wanted to believe that, even after everything I’ve done, I could find some kind of peace, but how can I still hold onto that? Look around, Jessica. This is who I’ve become…”
“Eric, these things weren’t people. Anyone who could do something like that to another human being is a monster. Dave was right, that people like you are needed to stop monsters, in any form, so that innocent people get to stay that way. You can’t blame yourself for surviving any more than I can blame myself, unless you think I should?” I glanced at her and saw her hard stare, lips in a thin line, waiting for a response she already knew.
“I’m just done, Jessica. Done killing, done finding myself in these situations…done fighting the darkness inside me. I’m sorry if that changes how you look at me, but I just can’t be two people anymore. I can’t keep walking that line, wondering when the scales will tip too far. I can’t let them win.” She was quiet for a long time, but eventually her stare softened and she smiled.
“Anyone would understand, Eric. I didn’t know you when you showed up at the compound, but seeing what drives you, understanding how much you care, I know it’s not easy to be you. The fact that you’re still standing is crazy, but I’m glad you are. Hell, I’m alive because of you. Still, if this is your choice and it helps you, Eric, I respect that. You’re a good man, Eric, and you don’t deserve the weight of guilt you carry, especially not alone.” We sat there awhile before she stood and offered her hand to me. “Now what do you say we go find our girl?”
Dave kept it simple with a reassuring nod as we all left the dock, searching the outskirts of St. Martin for a suitable vehicle. In this case, suitable meant any car that could seat three people and had gas, which ended up being a station wagon. Maybe it was a little cliché, but it did have great trunk space.
Either way, we left St. Martin behind us and followed signs for Texas, knowing that our journey was coming to an end.
Chapter 89
A new day (But still day 239)
I distinctly remember it snowing back in Indiana, but, despite the winter, I was sweating when we drove into Texas. Luckily for us, the station wagon had air conditioning. Of course, with the interstate being completely blocked up in areas, we were forced to take winding back roads and detours, which I liked to refer to as “gas killers.” All of the alternate routes made the fuel gauge dwindle until the wagon finally gave out, but it got us a good distance into the state. I was actually surprised that it held up that long, as the car was older and clearly hadn’t had work done on it for some time.
The worst news was that the car died in the middle of nowhere, leaving us surrounded with dying farmland and dirt. We really couldn’t have nice things.
“Looks like we’re walking from here.” I pulled the pack out of the trunk and hoisted it up on my shoulders, waiting for Dave to pull his rifle out before shutting the door. I had taken off the jacket and left it inside, leaving it for anyone that might need it more. While I had heard a lot about Texas weather being all over the place, it was just too damn hot to walk around with a parka.
“Do you know where we’re going, Eric?”
“The last sign we passed said we were heading toward Austin, so we’re in the right direction.”
“We should probably stay off the road, maybe cut some time off the trip,” Dave suggested, looking off to the side. It was flat land, with no viable shade, but cross-country could prove faster.
“What are we waiting for, then?” Mills started off the road and into the dirt, her boots leaving imprints in the ground. I took one last look around before following, hoping this was the right decision.
**********
We walked for what felt like an eternity in the humidity, leaving our clothes soaked in sweat as the miles wore on. As the heat drained our energy, we angled back toward the road in hopes of relief. Coming across a small parking lot, we decided to take a break and let our legs rest in the shade of a parked eighteen-wheeler. The driver was trapped inside the cab, his zombified face smearing blood across the windows. It wasn’t the best for morale, but we were too close to let anything dishearten us.
After a few minutes, Dave decided to scout ahead, leaving me and Jessica alone to our awkward glances. I was about to make a joke to try and ease the tension when Dave called out, so I pushed myself up and found him standing thirty yards away, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Did you see something?” I stopped next to him, following the direction of his eyes. The broiling sun created waves of heat in the distance, but I saw no movement.
“Let’s just say it won’t be as easy to get where we’re going as we thought.” He handed me his binoculars, letting me see the problem. Before us, in less than a mile, was a bridge with a lot of activity among the few cars.
“Any idea how many?”
“Not a clue, but I think we’ll need to find another way around if we want to stay alive.”
“No shit,” I muttered in agreement, handing his binoculars back to him.
When Jessica joined us, we moved up to within fifty yards of the bridge and discovered an alternate path, along with an estimate of the enemy strength.
“So, we either cross a bridge filled with zombies, or we climb down into a rock quarry, which is also full of zombies. That’s just fucking great.” Dave summed things up with such finesse, it was hard not to laugh.
“Wait…” I pointed to where a short path descended most of the way into the quarry. “It looks like most of the zombies are congested near the bridge, but I think we could cross farther down and avoid a confrontation.”
“You guys do realize we could try walking in either direction along the quarry and probably find a way around, right?” Jessica would have been that person in the theatre that was too smart for the movie, but this was about saving time than anything else. There was no telling how far down the quarry would go, but from where we stood, it was pretty long. I didn’t want to accidentally fall in when it got dark, which wouldn’t be long, and I hated taking more time than necessary. Yes, I would be damned before I took two trips to the car for groceries.
“Tell you what, I’ll go down and try to cross at nightfall. If I get bitten, you can say, ‘I told you so.’ Deal?” She gave me a look, but we
waited for the sun to go down.
“Whether I think you’re an idiot for doing this or not, please be careful, Eric.” I smiled back at her, beaming sarcasm.
“You know just what to say to make a guy feel special.” I winked and she rolled her eyes, ignoring me. “Seriously, I’ll be fine.”
“Just give us the signal when you’re across,” Dave chimed in, patting my shoulder. I nodded and slid my legs off the side of the wall, hanging for a moment before dropping down.
The path was thinner than I remembered in the daytime, forcing me to descend into the chasm slowly. I could hear the undead below, shuffling feet and dragging their broken limbs along the ground. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, but it wasn’t a fear of falling in, so much as a fear of alerting them and being trapped that made my stomach tight.
I made it to the end of the path, feeling the tip of my foot hang in the air before hugging the wall and regaining my balance. It was too dark to see the ground below, and the moon was covered by the clouds tonight, so I took a minute to listen. The scent of rain was faint in the air, overpowered by the stench of decaying flesh. The footsteps of zombies were distant, and to my right, which meant I hopefully wouldn’t be dropping onto anything that moved.
I sat down on the path, letting my legs dangle over the emptiness below, and slid forward until I was barely seated. Taking a deep breath of courage, I let myself slide out into the air and grabbed the ledge with my hands, trying to find footing below with my toes. Unable to feel anything but damp air, I knew I’d have to drop into nothingness.
Yay.
Releasing my grip, I brought up my knees to brace and landed…maybe five feet below, a very anticlimactic moment. Keeping one hand on the grip of my Ka-bar, I turned my body to face the left, where the bridge would be, and sidled along the ground. Waiting until my heels touched to take a step was slow progress, but it kept me from tripping, which would keep me alive. A roll in the gravel would make noise and bring every zombie in the vicinity down on me, and I’d have nowhere to go.
A Broken World (Book 2): Shattered Paradise Page 17
