Earths Survivors The Zombie Killers: Origins

by Dell Sweet

  ~

  John watched as Bear helped the girls move their sleeping bags and back packs over to a clear space on the factory floor. He didn’t see what Madison saw in Cammy, but it was her choice, and she wouldn’t get a second chance with him. He came close to slamming his fist into the cement floor. Not frustrated at all, he told himself. Not even a little.

  He was about to roll out his sleeping bag and go to sleep, maybe tomorrow would have a different spin, he thought briefly, when Bear walked over and dropped down in a squat next to him. He moved so fast and easy for a big man. “Hey,” John was startled into saying.

  Bear smiled. “Didn't mean to startle you... Thought you saw me coming.”

  “No... No, you didn't startle me at all,” John lied.

  Bear nodded. He cleared his throat a little. “Maddy and I talked a little... This place is safe, but it isn't where we need to be, so we thought we'd light out... Maybe tomorrow... Jersey, maybe further, either way, out of the city is the goal.”

  “Maddy?” John asked. “So it's like that.”

  Bear kept the smile on his face. “Listen,” he leaned close, too close, but it was a tactic he reserved for situations just like this back in the old world. “She wants to go... With Cammy,” he spread his hands, huge hands, “It is what it is, man.”

  John shook his head. “I don't see it. It's a new world... Who knows how many of us may have died off... If you look at New York alone it's got to be millions.”

  Bear nodded, not really sure where John was going.

  John leaned close. “So how do you build a population back up if the women are only fucking the women?”

  Bear shook his head. “You know what I said to Maddy a few moments ago?” He didn't wait for John to answer. “She said something about the way you have a tried to impose upon her that she needs a man, and I said, 'What a dick.' That's what I said, 'What a dick.'”

  John just glared from under his lowered brows.

  “Grow the fuck up, John, or go your own way. But as for those two?” He looked over at Madison and Cammy. “Don't fuck with them anymore... I understand your thoughts might have gotten fucked up... It's tough times like this that can do that. But they are their own, not your own.” He patted one huge hand against John's shoulder, smiled and then stood and walked away.

  April18th

  Billy and Beth

  Beth awoke a few hours before dawn and sat just outside the small tent, lost in thought.

  Billy had mentioned the day before, that it was probably not safe to use the main road any longer. She knew now that he was right. At first she had thought that his reasoning had been influenced by the previous attack they had experienced, but now she was not so sure. Now she was convinced that he had already known, that he had somehow seen what was ahead, and knew that the only way for them to travel safely was via the back roads.

  As she sat in the darkness waiting for the sunrise, she realized that she too had known. She had only to recall their conversation of the previous night. She sat and tried to make sense of all the thoughts that seemed to be running loose in her mind.

  She slowly became aware that the sky was beginning to color with the first rays of sunrise. The silent, night-black forest surrounding them began to awaken. Birds began to whistle in the pre-dawn air. Their whistled conversations flew back and forth, and were soon joined by the chatter of a multitude of squirrels who also called the forest home. The symphony created by the forest inhabitants began to break apart her troubled thoughts as she listened, the black mood that had begun to descend upon her finally lifted as the first brilliant rays of sunlight began to stream down through the thick pines of the forest.

  She rose slowly and began to re-kindle the fire. When Billy awoke a few minutes later, she had coffee heating, and had already prepared a small breakfast from the left over dinner of the night before.

  Lazy curls from the wood fire drifted slowly up through the trees into the morning air, the smoky scent hung in the air, and invoked nothing but good feelings in her. When Billy crawled out of the tent, the black mood that had threatened to envelop her was completely gone, and had been replaced with a deep feeling of peace that calmed and soothed her soul. She knew they would have to be careful on their trek east, but she was no longer overpowered by the sense of foreboding that had washed over her earlier.

  “Morning,” Billy said, as he sat down next to her and took the steaming cup of coffee she offered, “Sleep okay?”

  She considered her answer only briefly, “No,” she replied, “I woke up a couple of hours ago and couldn't get back to sleep. I kept thinking about things, Billy. Like what's ahead for us, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we have to be careful, but I shouldn't spend my time sweating this stuff,” she looked into his eyes as she finished speaking.

  “I know how you feel. I feel the same way,” Billy said, “I spent a long time thinking about it last night before I could finally get to sleep. I guess I just don't care anymore. We could drive ourselves crazy trying to reason it... whatever happened, happened, and we'll just face what we have to as we go,” he paused for a second. “I think truthfully that we'll be okay, I really do. If I didn't I would say so. We'll just keep going.”

  Billy finished speaking, and when he did he pulled Beth to him and held her.

  “Are you afraid?” he asked her.

  “No,” she replied, “not afraid of death anyhow, maybe just afraid of turning... I don't want that, Billy, I really don't,” she began to cry as she finished, and Billy held her, comforting her as best he could. I won't let that happen, he thought, not at all.

  Aloud he said, “Beth?” he waited until she looked up at him. “I think that we just have to be careful so that doesn't happen, you know, like if we just went ahead with no thought to what we were doing, we could find ourselves in a bad situation, or we might not be able to think quickly enough if something happened. But I don't, and can't believe that we will. Not if we're careful, Beth, and that's probably what we're being made to see.” He was looking over the top of her head as he spoke. “I think,” he said, changing the subject, “that those stitches need to come out... Might hurt a little.”

  She looked up at him from his arms. “Might?” She asked.

  The surrounding symphony continued as the rays of sunlight fought their way deeper into the forest to awaken its inhabitants; they held each other and allowed the calls and whistles of bird-talk to dispel their fears. Its calming effect soon overcame the fear and apprehension thinking of the trip had heaped upon them. Billy worked with a pair of nail clippers, tweezers, and peroxide, pulling each piece of dental floss from her head.

  “Put some iodine on it too,” Beth told him as he finished.

  “That's gonna hurt like a bitch,” Billy told her.

  “Really? Like a bitch?” Beth asked.

  “I didn't mean it exactly like that,” Billy told her. He let the dropper suck up some iodine and then squeezed small drops on each small hole that the dental floss had slipped out of.

  “Oh,” Beth said. “That does hurt like a bitch,” she gritted her teeth as Billy continued until each hole was done. A few minutes late he was done and Beth got up to walk it off. “The hard part is that I want to itch it,” she told him.

  Billy nodded his head and looked into the eyes of a small gray ground squirrel that sat watching them on a gnarled limb of an older nearby pine. Its tiny hand-like limbs were clasped together across its white belly, and to Billy it seemed as though the squirrel were an old and wise man, sitting and watching them from his pine perch. The squirrel chattered briefly, adding its voice to the bird-talk of the forest, and then scampered across the limb, into the upper reaches of the pine, out of sight.

  Beth came back a few moments later. “Well, I guess we should get moving if we're going to.” Billy nodded his head in agreement, and said. “We need to go into the next city or town and get a map, Beth.”

  “I was wondering about that,” she answered, “Wouldn’t
the park office have maps?” She lowered her head. “Itches a lot less... How's it looking?”

  “I didn't think about that, but yeah they should. We can check on the way out, and if they do it'll save us having to travel the main road into the next city, we'll still need a state map eventually though.” He looked her head over. “Looks good. Your head probably won't get infected.”

  “Right,” she replied as she stood upright once more. “But if it gets infected you are the first son of a bitch I'm eating.”

  Billy looked comical for a moment and then burst into laughter.

  A few moments later, after they had both quieted down, Beth spoke. “The map... Even if it's not a state map it should at least get us heading in the right direction, Billy. And maybe we should avoid the main roads... Just in case someone is following us... Sounds crazy, I know.”

  “Even if we don't find a map we can get ourselves pointed in the right direction anyway, and eventually we'll have to come to some sort of small town, or village, and then we'll get a map, okay?” he asked.

  “Just so long as you don't think I'm being stupid, or foolish,” she said.

  “You don't have to explain it to me, I know. I feel it too, and I have no intention of not listening,” Billy stated calmly. “In fact I intend to listen to whatever either of us feels. I think it’s probably the only way to make sure we stay alive...” He paused briefly, and then changed the subject. “We do need to pick up ammunition though, you need it for that machine pistol of yours, and I think I'll pick up some for that machine gun I took from that guy. It seems a lot better to have that in my hands than the Remington...” he shrugged his shoulders, “You think?”

  “Yeah, I do, if I hadn't had the machine pistol, I think we would've been in deep trouble. That Remington is nice, but... it just can't match that machine gun, no way, and I really think we'll need it before we get... Well, wherever it is we get to,” she finished lamely.

  With that they both got up and began to break camp. Together they loaded the Suburban. Billy drowned the small fire and they edged the truck through the trees and out of the camp site to the accompaniment of the bird-talk and the chatter of the squirrels.

  When they reached the small park office, just before the main road, they stopped the truck and went into the rustic log building to search for a map. They had only hoped for a simple map of the region surrounding the state park, but were instead rewarded with a selection of state maps.

  “Kentucky?” Billy asked.

  Beth nodded. “Otherwise we'll need a boat.”

  Billy found the next large city, Sturgis, and was surprised by how far they had traveled during the night. When they were back in the truck, Billy checked the gas tanks. One was full, but the other was barely above a quarter. He switched to the full tank, and said, “We'll have to get gas soon, does the map show any small towns?” Beth studied the map before her as Billy drove slowly out of the park to the main road.

  She traced out a route on the map with one finger as she spoke. “Follow 1508, Billy. That should bring us to route 109. That runs right into Sturgis,” she paused briefly as she continued to trace the route. “Morganfield is north on 60. We should be able to get gas and ammunition there, If not in Sturgis.”

  “Well, it’s not a small route, but it is smaller,” he said, “and that's a help.”

  Route 109 was not clogged with stalled traffic they found when they reached it a few minutes later. Less than an hour of driving took them into Sturgis, it was not as large as Morganfield, but, Billy reasoned, it should fill their needs.

  They had both decided that it would be unwise to split up for any purpose at all, and so when Billy eased the Suburban into a paved area in front of a sporting goods store, they locked the truck, and taking their weapons with them, headed in the direction of the store together. Billy had reasoned locking the truck up simply enough, if someone did try to get into it, they would have to break the glass, and hopefully they would hear that from inside the store. He would have liked to park closer, and not risk leaving the truck in the lot, or being so far away from it, but all of the spaces in the front of the store were full.

  As they left the truck and began to walk across the asphalt, Beth suddenly stopped short. When she did, Billy automatically raised his rifle.

  “What?” he asked in a near whisper.

  Instead of answering she pointed with the machine pistol, she had also raised, toward one of the vehicles in front of the store. Billy hadn't noticed when they had exited the truck, but the low rumble of the trucks idle suddenly came to him in the clear morning air. Stupid! I should have been paying attention. Before he could take the thought any further, a tall gray-haired, older man stepped from the store, and, after seeing them frozen in position in the parking lot, quickly ducked back inside.

  Billy and Beth

  April 19th

  The sight of the man broke the paralysis that had held them, and they both quickly took cover behind an old station wagon parked in the lot. Billy continued to mentally berate himself for not hearing the sound of the running truck when he had gotten out of the Suburban. Stupid-Stupid-Stupid! He thought as he dropped to the ground and tried to crawl under the old car.

  He couldn't get all the way under it, but he did get under it far enough to be able to look into the open doorway of the sporting goods store. What he could see of it was empty, but he could not see far enough into the gloom of the interior to see whether there was just the old man, or others waiting with him in the shadowy store.

  “Hey!” a young sounding male voice called from within the store. “Don't shoot, okay? We don't want any trouble with you.”

  The voice let Billy and Beth know that there were at least two people in the store, and a few seconds later, they could hear the soft weeping of a woman coming from the store as well.

  “We don't want trouble either,” Billy called.

  From under the car he could see a jeans-clad pair of legs separate from the shadows, and cautiously walk toward the open doorway. “What do you think, Beth,” Billy whispered, “you believe 'em?”

  “Only one way to find out,” she replied, as she backed out from under the car and stood slowly.

  A young man was standing framed in the doorway, a shotgun resting in his hands. He saw her rise from behind the car, quickly followed by Billy. His shotgun remained in his hands, but he did not turn it in their direction, instead he seemed to be purposely holding it away from them, and they could both see that he was frightened.

  Billy and Beth both kept their guns turned away, but still they were on guard, as Beth spoke into the silence that had descended on the parking lot.

  “Look, we really don't want any trouble either. We only stopped because we saw the truck running,” she lied. She thought it probably wouldn't be a good idea to let them know they had stopped for ammunition. “We haven't seen any... many,” she corrected herself, “people. We'll leave, if it’s what you want,” she finished.

  The young man’s grip on the shotgun seemed to loosen as she had spoken, and he seemed to be not as fearful as he had been.

  “We haven't seen any good people,” the young man said, “but we have seen a lot of bad ones.” He seemed to be asking them which group they belonged to.

  Beth and Billy both relaxed a small amount, and Billy spoke. “We've run into some bad ones ourselves,” he said. He considered for a moment, and then moved from behind the old station wagon, and out into the open. “Can we talk?” he asked. He was careful to keep the machine gun pointed down as he had moved from behind the car, and he forced himself to keep it pointed at the pavement as the young man seemed to consider what he had said.

  The young man had lifted his shotgun from the pavement as Billy had stepped from behind the old car, now he dropped it back toward the pavement, and answered. “Well, come on, I guess,” he replied. The older man they had seen initially and a young red haired woman stepped out of the shadowy interior as he finished speaking. They were both armed,
but both kept their weapons pointed down at the pavement.

  Billy looked at Beth. “Well?” he asked. She nodded her head, and they walked slowly toward the front of the store. Once the two groups were facing each other, Beth spoke. “I'm Beth, and this is Billy,” she said, pointing at Billy.

  “Delbert,” the older man said, stepping forward, “and this is John,” he said pointing at the dark haired young man, “and Peggy.” He paused for a few seconds. “Might've over-reacted a bit, I guess, but we haven't seen nothin' but bad the last few days. Thought you might be some of a group we ran into yesterday... things is awful balled up, ain't they? It’s hard to tell who you can, or can't trust.” With that the man seemed to consider them briefly, and then set his rifle aside.

  The man’s fear, that had been so evident once Beth and Billy were standing face to face with him, seemed to melt away. Beth stuffed the machine pistol into her jeans, and Billy slung the rifle over his shoulder before he stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you,” Billy said, “I think we were beginning to think we wouldn't meet anyone at all who wouldn't try to kill us.” Beth stuck out her hand as Billy finished speaking, and the young man and woman put their own weapons aside and stepped away from the sidewalk and shook the offered hands.

  “You from here?” Delbert asked, as he also shook their hands.

  “L.A.,” Beth replied, “heading east, how about you?”

  “Texas,” Peggy, the young woman said, “You headin' east for the same reason we are?”

  “Kind'a feels like we're drawn in that direction,” Delbert said, “can't explain it a lot better than that I guess.”

  His accent was slight, Billy noticed, not thick like some he had heard. “We feel the same way. Tried South... South is no good,” Billy said. He looked at Beth who nodded before he continued. “We could all make the trip together,” he offered, “It might be a lot safer that way?” Beth echoed the invitation.

  “See no reason not to,” Delbert said slowly, as he turned his eyes to the couple beside him. “Peggy, John?”

  “I'm for it,” John agreed. He had a slightly thicker accent, Beth noticed, well, maybe not an accent really, she told herself, he just talks somewhat slowly.

  “Me too,” Peggy said, and a smile lit up her face as she spoke. “No lie. I've been pretty scared, and it'll be good to have more of us, I think.”

  “I lied,” Beth said, and then hastily continued, “We didn't stop because we saw you. We stopped because we need ammunition. We got ambushed, sort of, and... Well, we got out of it. I didn't mean to lie, I just wasn't sure we could trust you, and I didn't think it would be a good idea to tell you we were running low, not knowing if... you know...” she finished lamely.

  “Don't give it a thought,” Delbert said, “can't say as I blame you. In fact,” he said reaching for his shotgun, and opening the breech. “We did too, but there isn't any here. I hoped to scare you off, but the truth is, we're out of ammunition ourselves. If you had been... well, bad, I guess we would've been screwed.” He finished by setting the empty shotgun against the door frame, resting butt down on the pavement.

  “You mean,” Billy said, “you're out completely?”

  “Oh yeah,” John said, “I've been out since yesterday, and whatever was in this shop is gone. Somebody cleaned it out.”

  Billy and Beth followed the others into the small shop. It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the sparse light inside, but once they did they could see that the shop had been ransacked. Two large glass display cases that had probably held, who knew how many handguns, Billy thought, were empty. The glass fronts had been shattered into the cases. Racks that had once been likewise protected by lockable glass sliding doors had also been broken into, the thick glass that had once protected them lay inside, but the rifles they had protected were gone. Nothing had been left. The floors were strewn with empty boxes, wads of packing paper, and literature on several types of guns that had been discarded. The glass from the cases was everywhere, Billy saw.

  “Looks as though they didn't leave anything at all,” Billy said.

  “Told you,” John said, as he shook his head. “Somebody got here before us, and it looks as though they weren't about to leave anything behind,” he sighed.

  “You have any ammo at all?” Beth asked.

  “I do,” Peggy answered, “I've got seven rounds for this 30.06, that's why... well, that's why I hung back when we saw you, you know. I could see you through the window, and... If I had too, I was going to shoot,” she seemed embarrassed as she spoke.

  “She's about the best shot between the three of us,” Delbert said, “my eye's is going, and John just never learned to shoot.”

  John turned red, but nodded his head before he spoke. “Just never saw a real big need to learn,” he said, “course now I wish I had.”

  “Been anywhere else in town?” Billy asked, “Maybe there's another sporting goods store around.”

  “Didn't have the time,” Delbert said, “we got here only ten minutes or so before you did.”

  “Well,” Beth said, as she counted up what ammunition she had left for the machine pistol, “I've got one full clip of sixteen, and... Looks like two in this clip, and I'm done.”

  Billy had checked over what he had while she was speaking, “Looks like this one is down to ten in the clip, but I've got better than a hundred rounds for the Remington in the truck, that should help a little. We need to find a place to get our hands on more, especially for that machine pistol,” he gestured at Beth's weapon, “and this one,” he said holding up the machine gun they had taken from the kid who had tried to shoot Beth, “this is a...” he held the machine gun up so he could read the writing on the side, “Hey, Beth, this say's it'll take nine millimeter slugs like yours, let me see one,” he waited until she handed him one that she took out of the full clip, and then compared them side by side. “Yeah, same thing,” he said, “this doesn't have a brand name on it though, just says what sort of bullet it takes, everything else has been ground off, see,” he held the side of the machine gun up so that Beth could see it.

  “That's been converted,” she said, “and that's probably why they ground off the serial number, and most likely the model and make at the same time. That's been converted to full auto,” she finished.

  “Gee, does that mean it's illegal to carry?” he asked, “you're not going to arrest me or something are you.”

  “Ha-ha, mister funny man,” Beth said smiling. “It does explain something that has been bugging me though. When that guy popped up and let loose on me, I thought he was squeezing those rounds off pretty quick. You can buy that gun, or could, I should say, and you could even order the conversion kit, but if you got caught, big trouble. I've seen a few though...Just the same, and I'm glad that one fell into our hands, and not someone else's.”

  Billy turned the gun over in his hands; his appreciation for it was much greater than it had been. “So what is it?” he asked.

  “It's called a Sixteen Nine on the Street,” Beth said. “I don't know what it's really called,” Billy looked confused. “Sixteen for the clip,” she said, “and nine for the ammunition size. See?” she held up her own pistol, comparing the two side by side. “They're nearly identical, except for that long wire stock on yours. Makes it look more like a rifle. Mine's semi, that one's full.”

  “And we can swap back and forth on ammunition?” Billy asked.

  “Just on the ammunition,” Beth answered, “the clips won't fit.”

  “Well, with just sixteen bullets wouldn't it run out pretty quick?”

  “Not pretty quick, babe, damn quick, like immediately. I think the attraction was speed, sixteen bullets in less than half a second. You can get a larger clip that'll hold two hundred.”

  Billy turned his head back to the other three who had been listening to Beth talk. They all seemed impressed. “I guess,” he said looking around the destroyed shop, “we better get going. Is that truck of yours in pretty good shape Delbert?
”

  “Junker,” Delbert said, “it was nice when we left Dallas, but it's on its last leg for sure now. That's why I left it running; bitch-kitty won't start if you don't, and to be honest, I been too damn scared to stop and get another.”

  “Well,” Billy said, “leave it. We got room in ours for all three of you.”

  Beth was staring around at the wrecked interior of the shop, it wasn't the damage that bothered her though, it was all the missing rifles, and guns. “Yeah, let's get out of here,” she said, “this place gives me the creeps, and I for one don't want to be here in case whoever took all of this...” she gestured at the empty shop, “...returns.”

  Everyone, Billy included, looked apprehensively around the empty shop.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Billy said hastily, as he turned and walked out the door.

  They all scouted carefully around the parking lot, as they walked to the Suburban. Anyone could be hiding in this lot, Billy thought, as he looked around at the packed parking lot, anyone, anywhere. They reached the truck, Billy unlocked it, and they all climbed quickly inside. Several sighs of relief were released once Billy started the Suburban, and drove from the lot.

  A half mile down the road, Delbert spotted another store and Billy cautiously pulled into the lot to have a look. He was able to drive up close to the shop, without getting out of the truck. The glass store front, including the doors, were barred by a segmented aluminum pull down door, and the store looked as though no one had as of yet been in it.

  “What do you think?” Billy asked of no one in particular.

  “Don't look as though it's been broke into yet,” John replied, “gonna have to leave the truck to be sure,” he finished with an apprehensive shrug of his shoulders.

  Beth pulled the nearly spent clip from the machine pistol, and clicked home the full one. “Stay here, I'll go see,” she said, and she was out the passenger door before Billy could protest.

  Billy shut off the truck, and got out. No way, he thought as he jumped from the truck, no frigging way.

  Delbert looked from John to Peggy. “I don't know about you, but they got the guns, and I ain't keen on staying in here without one,” he said, as he opened one of the rear doors, and stepped out. He carried the empty shot gun with him as he went: Peggy and John brought their guns out of the truck with them as well.

  Billy was staring through the segmented burglar door into the interior of the small shop, as Delbert walked up. “What's it looking like, Billy?” he asked.

  Beth was back on the sidewalk, the machine pistol in her hands, sweeping the parking lot with her eyes, Peggy and John beside her.

  “Looks like nobody got to it,” Billy said, “what do you think, Dell?”

  Delbert squinted into the shop. “Hard to tell, but I think you're right, Billy, it looks good to me. But this door is gonna keep us out, just like it's kept out ever one before us.”

  “Uh-uh,” Billy said, “not me it isn't.” He turned face and walked back to the Suburban.

  “Look out, Dell,” he said, as he started the truck, and cramped the wheel around to bring it up on the sidewalk. “Saw this on a cop show once, here goes...”

  Billy lined the truck up even with the front doors in back of the aluminum burglar door, backed up, and punched the gas pedal. The rear tires screeched briefly as the truck bumped up over the curb and hit the door. The truck passed through the aluminum door as if it were made of paper and barely tapped the inside glass doors before Billy locked up the brakes. The light tap on the doors was all it took to shatter the safety glass. Billy reversed the truck, and backed down off the sidewalk. He cramped the wheel once more, and shut off the truck, leaving it almost where it had been in the first place. He got out and looked over the front of the truck; there was not even a single scratch to show where the massive bumper had connected with the aluminum door and then the glass. He stood up from his examination of the bumper, and was surprised to see everyone staring at him.

  “What?” he said. “I told you I saw it on a cop show once. Of course I didn't know it would work so well,” he finished grinning.

  “You're an animal,” Beth said, grinning back.

  “Well folks,” Billy said as waved his arm at the store, “looks like the store's open after all.”

  Delbert, John, and Peggy, were all grinning too, and Delbert said, “If I ever lock myself out of my house, I guess I won't be asking you for help, Billy,” he broke into a hearty laugh when he finished speaking, and within seconds they all found themselves laughing along.

  “Well, let’s go get that ammo,” Beth said laughing, and they all walked into the shop.

  They spent no more than an hour in the shop, before they had completely re-outfitted themselves. They were able to obtain new camping gear, ammunition, and three more of the nine mm machine pistols. They all reasoned they were much more effective than the old single-shot rifles, and shotguns that Delbert's group had been carrying, and the fact that they would all now be able to use the same caliber ammunition was appealing.

  Billy picked up a canvas strap for the machine gun, that allowed him to keep it suspended from one shoulder, yet easily accessible to him if he needed it. The machine pistols fit easily into leather shoulder holsters, and there were more than enough in the shop for everyone. Billy debated briefly, and then took one more of the machine pistols, along with one of the leather holsters as well. He had a vague, uneasy feeling about the weapons. He felt as if he had joined some weird sort of commando outfit, instead of belonging to a group who had been nothing more than average citizens just a few short weeks before. He pushed the thought away, and after adjusting the leather shoulder holster, slid the fully loaded machine pistol into it, and fastened the small chrome push-catch across the blued steel grip of the weapon.

  They loaded all the gear into the back of the Suburban, including every round of nine mm ammunition the store had in stock, which, Billy thought, amounted to enough to wage a small war with. After consulting the map, they set out once more.

  The shop had contained a great deal of pre-packaged freeze dried foods, and that had also found its way into the rear of the Suburban.

  SEVEN

  Bear

  April 20th

  They had risen early and made the trek out to the strip area where car lots and small business dotted the sides of the feeder roads for what seemed like miles.

  They had met no one along the way. Before nightfall, they had been driving a pair of new pickup trucks. John and Bear in one, Madison and Cammy in the other, weaving in and out of traffic heading back into the city.

  They had ended up in a house over in Harlem, with gas lanterns for light, the windows boarded up. They had decided it was too late in the day to head out so a place in the city would be safer. The house was close. The factory was out of the question, too deep in the city and its clogged streets to get to.

  They had been sitting around. Spirits raised, talking easily, but sometimes seriously about the world and the changes they had encountered. What it meant to them as individuals, as a society.

  “I can't help but wonder what it feels like,” John said. “To be dead, I mean.”

  “Fuck that,” Bear said. “Feels like dead. Look at those fuckers. I mean you can see it... Listen...” They all fell silent. The windows were solidly boarded over. The dead scratched and cried and pleaded, but they could not get in.

  Madison shuddered. “It fucks me up... It really does.” Cammy's head lay against her breast, her arms around her holding her.

  “Yeah,” Cammy agreed, “I do not want to be dead.” She raised her head from Madison's breast. “If...”

  “Go on, baby,” Madison said after a few moments of silence.

  “Well if we have to we should have a pact. I mean... I mean I know you wouldn't let that happen to me,” She looked at Maddy with wide eyes, “But,” she raised her head. “We should have a pact to not let that sort of thing happen to any of us, right?”

  “Right,” Be
ar agreed. “Right.”

  “Oh bullshit,” John said.

  “If I ever have to, I won't hesitate,” Madison had said, “Once I'm dead, I don't want to come back.” She had shuddered and grimaced at the same time. “I'll do it myself, but it would be nice to know if I couldn't one of you would.”

  “Absolutely,” Bear agreed. “Same as I would expect one of you to do it for me.”

  “In a minute,” Madison agreed.

  “I would,” Cammy agreed. I wouldn't like it, but I would.”

  “In-fucking-credible,” John said.

  “Dude,” Bear said. “Why in fuck is it that you have to always be on the disagreement side of shit every time?”

  “Oh, I didn't know black men used dude like that.” John shot back.

  Bear's tongue came out and licked at his lips. He spun the cap slowly from a pint of whiskey he carried, and took a drink. “You got that one. One is what you get. Don't forget I said that.”

  John's mouth opened and then snapped shut.

  Silence held momentarily and then the conversation restarted between Cammy and Madison and soon John and Bear were drawn back into it.

  They passed the small bottle back and forth. Nobody wanted to really get wasted, it was too important to have your wits about you, but the constant scrabbling of the dead against the boards was enough to make anyone crazy.

  “Gotta piss... Has to be a bathroom here somewhere,” John said as he got up from the kitchen floor.

  “Thanks for sharing,” Cammy said from beside Madison.

  “Any ti...”

  The sound of splintering wood and a heavy crash came, cutting off his words, as he fell through a rotted section of floor in the house, impaling himself on a pipe in the basement.

  They had all scrambled quickly to their feet and then slowed down as they came to the hole. Holding the lanterns over the abyss to see better.

  There were a half dozen dead in the basement, one by one they had shot them. There seemed to be no way in.

  “More?” Cammy asked.

  “I doubt it,” Bear answered. “Probably been there from the start.”

  “What about, John?” Cammy asked.

  Bear looked him over. His eyes were shut, his chest rose and fell, but the blood was leaving his body at an alarming rate. He had stopped moving, probably passed into unconsciousness. Death had to be close. Even if they could get him off the pipe without killing him or he himself dying from the shock and blood loss, he would die from massive infection at the least.

  “Think any of them bit him before we got them?” Madison asked.

  “Just was looking,” Bear agreed. “What about his arm... See his arm?”

  “Could have been from the fall,” Cammy said.

  “Maybe,” Madison agreed. “But his pants are also ripped... That could have been them too.”

  “Yeah... Yeah,” Bear agreed.

  John's eyes suddenly fluttered open and he turned his head slightly to stare at Madison. His jaw worked, but he said nothing. His eyes slipped closed and he let his last breath out in a shuddering groan.

  “Oh my, God,” Cammy sobbed. She lowered her head into her hands.

  Madison leaned forward and shot him in the head nearly as soon as he stopped his struggles. Cammy bent double and vomited.

  Bear held it in, but barely. John had been alive, he had still been with them as they listened to the sounds of the dead that were trying to get to them. To kill them. To eat them. To satisfy their ceaseless hunger: Earlier that night in the flickering light from the gas lanterns, when Madison had said what she would do, and John had disagreed. And Bear had not. To Bear it had been a real thing because of what he had already gone through on his own. To John it hadn't been real until now, a few hours later when he had found himself dying and she had wasted no time. None. Bear had seen his eyes fall on Madison as the life flowed out of him. He couldn't speak, but it was obvious he was trying to make her understand something. Whether it was a last plea not to kill him or a first plea to make sure she did, his eyes slipped shut with it unspoken

  “He would have expected it,” Madison said later as they sat silently waiting for morning. Bear had the small bottle of whiskey out again and they were passing around. Trying to numb themselves more completely.

  “I swear, if they come for me, if they get me? I'll put a bullet in my own head. I will. I swear I will. If I ever fuckin' have to, I won't hesitate,” Madison said, “Once I'm dead, I don't want to come back.”

  Cammy began to cry. “Don't say it, Maddy. Don't say it.” And she didn't say it again, but it didn't matter. She had already spoke it into truth. Bear heard it. He heard it, and he knew she meant it.

  In the morning Bear had packed up the truck he and John had been using. He intended to go whether Madison and Cammy came with him or not. But there was only follow in Madison in the morning.

  They headed back out of Harlem. Madison knew the area.

  Near nightfall they had found another old factory, and they had settled in once more. Bear had begun to feel as though a cloud were hovering over them... maybe even just him.

  Donita

  The fires burned bright, freshly banked for the night. She could not say what it was in fire that still frightened her, but it did. It touched something deep inside, something that she could sense had not always been there. Like at one time she had embraced fire the same way the breathers did. Now it only frightened her.

  Behind her several thousand hid themselves in the woods. She had collected them through the south, across the vast desert, into the mountains, and she had bought them with her as she made her way back toward the city

  She looked back to the fires. She should have gone already. There was a dog with the breathers and the dog kept coming around, sniffing at the wind. It could smell them, of that Donita was sure. Another dog had been coming around too, but she had caught that dog and given it over to the twin. This dog was smarter, or at least smart enough not to come too close.

  The terrible fires burned, sending their stink into the air. Creating heat...

  She stood, her legs flexing easily. Behind her the big man stood also; soundlessly, and although she did not see him, hear him, she felt him.

  She had taken him back in the mountains. He had become her right arm. Strong. Loyal. More.

  She knew he stood. Knew he was waiting for her to move. Knew that he believed the entire world revolved around her. All this with no words, touches, conscious thoughts. She looked off through the trees to the opposite side of the road. Across from where the breathers were camped.

  Her new eyes saw more than her old eyes had ever seen, though not precisely as she had seen with those other eyes. This sight was not suited to daylight. It could see, would see in daylight, but not well. The lesser light of the moon was the light she needed. She stood now, looking across the field to where something else had captured her attention.

  She had seen the woman far across the field, past the other road, and she had known she was on her own. She watched those who were camped out in the field, and she debated about approaching them. She was wondering whether this group was right for her. Hanging at the edges. Checking them out. She had no idea that she was now being checked out.

  She carried a pistol in a holster at her side. Donita would have to be careful.

  She was alone. It was a thing that Donita knew. She was not a part of the other breathers that were camped not far away. There were no others back in the shadows waiting for her. She was a loner, and she had managed to avoid the other dead like herself that must have scented her, followed her. She had also avoided the others, the breathers, like the ones that were camped in the open field. Donita scented the air and drank in the information.

  Alone... Hungry... Mistrustful... Donita said nothing, simply flexed her legs and leapt into the tall grass. The big man behind her.