One of Us

by Samie Sands

  The fire was intense, flames licking at the walls and ceiling. The dead just kept coming, their skin burnt and blistered. My father lay on the floor pinned beneath a collapsed beam with blood pouring from some unseen wound. He was yelling, pleading with my mother to get away. She just stood over him with a look of determination in her eyes as the dead came...

  I opened my eyes and blinked. Immediately pain drove through me and I could feel the warmth of fresh blood trickling down my face. I tried to reach up and wipe it away but my arm felt heavy and numb. I could feel the throbbing bullet wound in my shoulder. My whole body ached and I was sure more than a few things were broken.

  I made to shout out but the only sound that broke my lips was a hollow whisper. The air was thick with dust causing me to cough and splutter, the taste of blood in my throat.

  I tried to shout again, “Hey!” I yelled, before breaking into another coughing fit.

  “Ghost? Ghost, is that you?” I thought I heard a soft voice, but my head was swimming and confusing my senses.

  “Ghost!” this time the voice was closer, concerned. I felt the weight on my arm shift and the feeling return.

  I gingerly rolled over and saw a figure silhouetted against the entrance to a torch-lit tunnel. I began to take a deep breath but stopped abruptly as a harsh smell filled my nostrils.

  “He’s awake” the figure in the doorway spoke out, the voice a low growl.

  “Who’s there?” I asked, panicking slightly. The figure remained still a moment before slowly moving off down the tunnel. “Hey!” I shouted, “I asked you a Qu...”

  A gloved hand clasped over my mouth. I struggled for only a second before I realized the hand belonged to the girl.

  “Keep it down, will you?” she whispered, “The dead could still be right above us”.

  I looked directly upwards for the first time and saw the hole some distance away, the setting sun shining down.

  “How long was I out?” I asked.

  “A few hours. I didn’t think you had made it at first. I mean watching you fall...” she faltered, a hint of guilt in her voice. “Well, at least you’re awake now. We can get moving when you feel up to it” she recovered, getting to her feet.

  I sat up, pain stabbing through my body, every inch aching. I propped myself up against the cold wall behind me. My eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness and I surveyed the room trying to make sense of where I had ended up. I had landed in a large rectangular room with tunnels leading out of either end.

  In the middle there ran a groove cut into the stone and covered by a metal grate. Rubble lay everywhere and a large piece of the intricate marble that was once the floor of the town center stood upright against the opposite wall. As I looked at it my mind drifted back to the bandits and whether they had escaped the dead ambush. I sincerely hoped not.

  “I know what you did for me up there,” the girl said. I looked over, she seemed to be preparing something but I couldn’t make out what as her back was turned while she fiddled in her pack. “I want you to know I appreciate it”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that so I just let my head rest back on the cold bricks and smiled.

  She glanced back at me, perhaps unnerved by my silence. “We need to do something about your wounds” she began, “That was one hell of a fall you took, not to mention the bullet lodged in your shoulder there.”

  She finished whatever she was doing with her pack and walked over holding a large medical supply box. She sat cross-legged in front of me and slid open the clasps. She really was the picture of beauty and even in the darkness, it was impossible to break my stare from her.

  She was around the same height as me, her body slender and toned under the skin-tight sneaking suit. She had her long brown hair tied back in a low ponytail and her eyes were big and fierce. She narrowed them slightly as my gaze met hers. I coughed and looked down, looking instead at the assortment of bandages and ointments in the box.

  “Take off your shirt,” she said. I blinked. “Take off your shirt” she repeated, “I need to be able to dress your wounds, don’t I?”

  I looked up at her and she smiled, raising her eyebrows. I complied and moments later I was stripped to the waist, shivering slightly in the cold breeze. I looked at the painful wound in my shoulder, dirty and bloody.

  “Let me check you over before we get to the nasty business of removing that bullet,” she said leaning forward.

  Instinctively I made to block her, but she took my hands and pushed them gently back to my sides. The feeling of her hands on my body was a welcome one as she ran her fingers over old scars and applied slight pressure against my ribs while checking for any breakages.

  “Tell me your real name,” she said suddenly, sitting back. For a moment I was caught off guard before she continued, “I mean I know your runner name, Ghost, right?” I nodded slowly. “But what is your birth name?” I reached up to run my hand through my hair, “Oh wait, sorry” she said, stopping me before leaning forward and wiping away the blood from a cut just above my eye.

  I smiled and tried to think of an answer to her question. In truth, I had never been known by any other name, at least not to my knowledge.

  She looked at me with a slightly concerned look on her beautiful face, “You must have a real name” she said. “I mean the people in my zone call me Smoke, which is, of course, my runner name, but my real name is Kaatje.”

  I looked back at the ground, thinking hard. Memories of my mother and father passed through my mind, painful memories, but no matter how hard I tried I failed to remember a time when any other name was used.

  “Rick” I lied. “My name is Rick”. I looked up at her and she was smiling again.

  I worried that perhaps she somehow sensed I had made that up, but probably just thought I had hit my head a little too hard. Either way, I allowed my eyes to linger on her perfect face.

  “A pleasure, Rick,” she said, “Now let’s get that bullet out.”

  She unclipped a gleaming pair of what looked like pliers from her medical kit before handing me a short piece of wood from the surrounding debris.

  “Put that between your teeth and bite down because this is going to sting a little and I haven’t got anything to use as a painkiller”

  She moved forward and positioned herself so that her legs were on either side of mine. In any other situation, I suppose I would’ve enjoyed this level of interaction. I placed the foul-tasting board between my teeth and took a deep breath as she splashed water on the wound.

  Blinding pain erupted behind my eyes as she pushed the pliers into my shoulder causing me to bite down hard on the wood. I tried to fight back but she held me against the wall with surprising strength, pinning my legs beneath her before I could kick out. I could feel the metal rubbing and twisting against my collarbone as blood ran free down my chest and I began to fear I might black out. With one final excruciating twist and a cry of triumph, she pulled the pliers free of the streaming wound to my great relief before pressing gauze to the open hole and finishing up by wrapping a bandage over my shoulder.

  I spat out the wood as she sat next to me breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her face. “Thank you” I managed. She brushed her hair out of her face and rested her head against my good shoulder. “Anytime,” she said laughing.

  We sat for a while and talked. She told me that she had been on her way back from a scavenging run when she nearly ran into a group of bandits with hostages in tow, some of which she recognized.

  Her eyes went cold as she told me of how she had gone back to find her zone ransacked and burning. When the survivors called for her aid in controlling the fire she turned her back and ran in pursuit of the bandits. She tracked them to the town center with revenge in her mind, but upon seeing their true numbers she had retreated to the shadows and toyed with the idea of ambushing them one by one.

  She was captured shortly after alongside myself. She asked me what I was doing out there and I described the situation re
garding the growing numbers of refugees arriving in our zone and the desperate need for water. I told her how I had watched her progress from a nearby rooftop and noticed a sniper doing the same, so had resolved to somehow warn her of the imminent danger.

  She stared at the floor for a few minutes after I said this before getting to her feet and taking her medical things back to her pack. I put my shirt on and rubbed my shoulder while watching her. I thought back to my pack and wondered if it was still hidden in that chimney. At least I still have my knife, I thought to myself as I rested my free hand on the scabbard at my waist. Empty. A sense of loss grew tight in my stomach as I remembered I had left it buried to the hilt in the eye of a bandit.

  I got to my feet somewhat gingerly and made my way over to the corner where Kaatje was still busying herself with her things. She stood up as I approached and turned to face me, holding out a stiletto blade in her hand. I took it and examined it. It was a beautiful piece of equipment, a long thin blade attached to a hilt carved out of some kind of polished bone.

  “I think we need to get moving, the dead won’t stay above ground forever,” said Kaatje suddenly. I offered back the weapon. “Keep it. I noticed you left yours behind earlier” she winked, regarding the empty scabbard.

  I slid the knife into its new home and waited for Kaatje to grab her things before following her down one of the narrow torch-lit tunnels. I ran my hand along the wall. It was smooth and cold under my skin. There was a steady breeze coming from some unseen exit far ahead causing the torches to flicker and cast ghostly shadows around us. Kaatje stopped, signaling for me to do the same.

  We crouched down and my hand rested on my new knife. Something was coming. I listened and heard the sound of shuffling followed by heavy, labored breathing.

  “Black? Is that you?” Kaatje whispered into the darkness. For a moment I felt confused but then thought back to the shadowy figure in the doorway, to the deep growling voice. I thought I had imagined the whole thing.

  No answer came to Kaatje, only the sound of more shuffling. I spun around, readying my knife and searching for the source. A sharp gust of wind picked up and extinguished the nearest torches, plunging us into total darkness.

  Kaatje screamed before being abruptly silenced. I spun around my heart rate doubling and fear gripping my insides.

  “If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already” an inhuman voice came out of the dark right in front of me.

  I swear I could feel its ragged breath. The torches fired up once more and my heart jumped into my throat. Kaatje was standing about a foot away, a skeletal hand tight over her mouth. Its owner stared at me, his bright white eyes shining out from under a tattered hood. I had the chilling feeling he was smiling but it was impossible to tell as he was missing the entire lower part of his jaw, his face just ending in the jagged teeth protruding from under a curtain of torn skin.

  He released his grip on Kaatje, who immediately drove her elbow into his ribs, knocking him into the wall with a sickening crack.

  “If you ever sneak up on me again I swear that I will destroy you!” she yelled.

  The corpse rose to his feet and glared at her. “If I were you I would keep my voice down in here,” he said, reaching under his ruined jacket and snapping off the broken rib before dropping it to the floor.

  Without another word he turned, beckoning us to follow. We walked for a while in silence, a great many things running through my mind. I was being led along deep underground tunnels by a member of the dead, one that could talk despite the crippling lack of jaw and one that Kaatje referred to as ‘Black’. It couldn’t possibly be the same man who was my mentor all those years ago, could it?

  As if in reaction to this thought the corpse stopped and turned, but his pearly eyes did not look down to address either of us, instead remaining fixed ahead.

  The silence was broken by his low growl. “I am sure you are wondering what I am and why I am here” he began, “My name is Black and I am here to get you home” he paused, turning his white eyes suddenly on me. “I do not know why you can hear me. I assumed only Kaatje possessed the ability to hear my death voice due to the personal experiences we have shared. You, however, I do not recall.”

  The glow from his eyes seemed to burn stronger as he said this. I turned to Kaatje, questions burning in my mind but she was once again staring at the floor.

  “He saved my life” she murmured.

  I turned back to Black and opened my mouth to speak but he held up a bony hand. “Now is not the time for explanations. We will soon be entering the undercity. We need to remain vigilant; the corpses down here number many and are not as good-natured as I.”

  The three of us continued on through the never-ending tunnel network. The pain in my shoulder was growing again with the wound continuing to bleed heavily.

  At one point I stopped to compose myself and noticed Kaatje looking at me. She made a ‘thumbs up’ gesture forcing me to grit my teeth and smile. I didn’t want to be down in this corpse infested hole longer than necessary and stopping the party for aid would only serve to hinder our progress.

  As I walked my mind drifted to home, or at least to the derelict flat I shared with a couple of other refugees. I decided that growing up in the aftermath of the outbreak was much better than living through it, experiencing the loss of everything that came before. One of my earliest memories was of sitting around a fire with my parents, listening to them reminisce about something called ‘Christmas’. I would listen for hours while they talked about gift giving and eating until they could eat no longer.

  I was so preoccupied with these thoughts that I failed to notice we had stopped and barely kept myself from walking into the back of Kaatje. I shook my head and looked over her shoulder. The tunnel had ended. We were overlooking a great chasm that drove deep and unseen down into the earth. A narrow stone bridge stretched out before us.

  Stepping back, I allowed my companions to move away from the edge. Kaatje looked pale and tired. I turned to the corpse and opened my mouth to speak but he just pushed past, striding back down the tunnel.

  “Where are you going?” I demanded of his shadow as he disappeared around the corner. “Come on, we better catch up,” I said, looking back at Kaatje.

  She was squinting at something across the chasm. I followed the direction of her gaze and my jaw dropped. Shadowy figures were moving in the darkness. I shivered as dozens of cold white eyes pierced me with an icy stare. The dead were making for the bridge. We really had to move. I grabbed the nearest torch from the wall and took Kaatje by the hand.

  She was rooted to the spot. “Come on! We need to go now!” I shouted, shaking her slightly. She nodded and started to back up slowly, her eyes still fixed on the dead. Bodies began to rain into the chasm.

  Something was approaching fast, rapid footsteps echoed down the tunnel behind us. I turned and unsheathed my knife, leaving Kaatje watching the bridge. I waited, the footsteps coming ever closer. Frequently a wet slapping noise reached up from the chasm as another corpse impacted the ground far below.

  Without warning, Black burst around the corner, moving with incredible speed. His white eyes flashed and I threw myself at Kaatje, pinning her against the wall. I felt a rush of air as he sped past and turned my head to see him sprinting straight across the bridge, charging the undead. I watched as he collided with the leading pack, scattering them over the side.

  I almost felt impressed until I realized we too were not alone. Cold sweat ran down the back of my neck when the moans reached my ears. Shuffling feet were advancing and they were not far behind. Kaatje heard them too. She pushed me away and fell to her knees, tearing things from her pack.

  She pulled out two bottles, both with rags stuffed in the top, and handed one to me.

  The smell of fuel filled my nostrils. I ignited both rags with my torch as several corpses shuffled into view. I waited as long as I could and threw hard. My Molotov fell short but Kaatje found her mark moments later, her bottle e
xploded on the head of the nearest zombie, engulfing the group in a ball of flame.

  With the tunnel burning behind us, we had no choice but to head out onto the bridge. I tried to steady my shaking legs as I took the first steps, being careful not to look down. Black was still fighting off the horde, which now had him completely surrounded. The sound of the fighting was joined by the steady pop of burning flesh from the walls behind me.

  I stopped a second to look over my shoulder, checking Kaatje was with me. “Get down!” she shouted, her eyes wide.

  I hit the floor just as her blade sunk into the face of a near-skeletal corpse. I swept my leg round, knocking it off balance and over the edge.

  “Stragglers!” Kaatje’s voice came again. I sat up. A few of the dead engaged with Black had spotted us and were limping excitedly in our direction. I searched frantically for something to defend myself.

  “Hand me your pack,” I said, a plan forming in my mind.

  “What? You won’t have time to...”Kaatje stopped midsentence as realization dawned, and quickly handed over her pack.

  It was bulky, stuffed to overflowing with supplies and other random salvage. I put one arm through the straps and held it out in front of me. The bridge was only wide enough to allow one corpse at a time.

  I took a deep breath and advanced, using the pack as a shield. The first zombie came at me fast but careless and bounced harmlessly into the chasm. I took a second to smile before the next one attacked. He broke free of the melee and headed straight for me, moving in a wild spasm.

  I braced myself as his rotten body fell against the pack, pushing me back slightly. His eyes were level with mine, blank and expressionless, yet cold and hate filled. Immediately he bit into the fabric, forcing his head forward. I twisted my arm hard and ripped the teeth from his mouth causing him to release a horrible gurgling shriek before I planted my foot into his knee and sent him tumbling into the darkness.

  We were close to Black now, a few feet away, I could see him snarling and biting, huge gashes in his body and flaps of skin hanging loose from his bones. Suddenly the pack pulled to the right, and I lost balance. I felt Kaatje grab my shoulders as I looked down. The toothless corpse was hanging from the stone trying to pull itself to safety, one arm grasping the free strap. I stepped back, dragging him up. I pulled out my blade with my free hand.