Animals

by David A. Simpson

  Putnam had everything they needed if they could get to it without getting shredded by the zombies. They weren’t equipped to fight the undead, not yet anyway. The first thing on Murray’s list was Armor and Weapons.

  “We have to find a sporting goods store or thrift shop first.” he told them. “We need to find protection. We need leather gloves and football pads or soccer guards. Anything that will prevent us from getting bit. That comes first before we look for food.”

  A block from the center of town, Replay Consignments had mannequins in the windows bedecked with football equipment. It was a second-hand sports shop and Swan took the lead, her two protectors staying close. The bell over the door tinkled and everyone froze but nothing came lunging out. The wolves entered warily, sniffing around in curiosity but not alerting to danger. The rest of them slipped in quickly and as soon as he found a display with baseball equipment, Cody grabbed some catchers gear and hurried back out to Murray. The leg guards were perfect, nothing was going to bite through them. It didn’t take them long before they were decked out with a combination of hockey, soccer, lacrosse and baseball guards and they all felt a little safer. They had a fighting chance now; a zombie would have a lot tougher time finding flesh on them. The modern armor was nothing like the steel and chainmail of old. It was lightweight, easy to move in and quiet.

  “Weapons next on the list, right?” Annalise whispered as they eased out of the store, still trying to move silently. For all they knew, a huge horde could be a few blocks away.

  Cody nodded and pointed to a hardware store half a block up. The first thing they thought of when brainstorming their raid was guns of course. They argued pros and cons for a long time and in the end, they decided against them. Nobody had ever shot a real one and what if it drew in zombies? The world was so quiet now with no cars or airplanes or even the hum of electrical wires, a gunshot could probably be heard for miles and miles in any direction. And worse, what if it frightened their companions? Animals had to be trained to guns and they couldn’t risk panicking them, scaring them so bad they ran too far away and got lost.

  In the survival books, they had found plans on how to build war hammers and sawblade battle axes from threaded pipes and other common materials. Weapons they could tailor to kids. They knew from chopping wood they would never be able to swing an axe fast enough to protect themselves from attack. Baseball bats were too blunt.

  “You’ve got to pierce the skull!” Murray kept telling them. “We have to have long sharp instruments. Spears when we can, spiked hammers for when it gets close. Knives aren’t heavy enough to pierce the skull and the weapons have to be our size, not our parents’ size. We have to be able to swing them hard and fast.”

  Swan swept the store with the wolves and when she gave them the all clear signal, Cody and Donny slung Murray over their shoulders and hustled him inside. The twins stood guard with the pitchforks as Harper grabbed his chair and followed, the little monkey scampering beside her. There were bloody hand prints on the swinging doors. Something dead had been inside but it was long gone now.

  They found flashlights and packs of batteries then made their way to the plumbing section. Everything they needed was there and with a sigh of relief, they got started assembling the various pieces of threaded pipe, T-fittings and caps into deadly child sized war hammers. They capped off one end of four-foot sections of black pipe and duct taped steel marker stakes into the other end, their pointy tips made deadly thrusting spears.

  “Make sure you grab some flat files.” Murray said, checking his list. “And paracord to wrap the handles.”

  Fine tuning and improving their weapons could be done back at the Park but it felt good to have something besides a pitchfork to fight with.

  China found the bags of peanuts near the register and was chattering excitedly as she tore them open. The wolves and the panther paced the store, vigilant and sniffing the air. It only took them a few minutes to assemble the weapons and Cody motioned for Donny to help him in the farm supply department. It wasn’t well stocked but there a lot of things a hobby farmer might need. Food for chickens and goats, various feeders and incubators and light farm equipment. Mostly implements that could be attached to a riding lawn mower. They needed to get the biggest two wheeled garden cart they could find to hook to the back of the golf cart. It would double their carrying capacity. They added a few sacks of grain for their cow and goats and Murray made note of how much was left on the shelves. They knew where to come when they needed more.

  Armed, armored and with the few tools they needed, they made their way back outside and were ready to hit the grocery store. They town was eerily quiet with only the tweeting of birds and their footsteps crunching on leaves breaking the silence. They could hear the flap of vultures’ wings overhead.

  “Where did everyone go?” Annalise whispered as they passed another empty shop, its door broken and hanging askew. “Something must have made them run off.”

  “Maybe some survivors were in a house and when they ran out of food, they drove off.” Harper said. “Maybe all the dead people chased after them.”

  It was as good a theory as any and the longer they were there, the more confident they became. The town wasn’t that big, only a few dozen streets long with the same number of cross streets. It only had two traffic lights and a roundabout at the town center. Near the river was a small industrial area with a few warehouses and shops but they didn’t bother going down there, a grocery store was next on their list. They had a few choices, there were a couple of health food shops, a good-sized chain store and a little mom and pop that reeked when they approached it. It had been the best butcher shop for miles around but all that meat was spoiled, rotten and still stinking. Clouds of flies swarmed around it.

  They crossed the road to avoid the smell and spotted the other grocery store halfway down the block of a side street. Cody signaled and they made their way towards it, the cart humming along quietly as they swung their new weapons, trying to get used to the heft and feel of them.

  It was a pretty big store, the largest one for ten or twenty miles in any direction and supplied the rural families in three counties.

  There were dead inside.

  They spotted a few zombies wandering aimlessly up and down the aisles, trapped when the electricity went off and the automatic doors stayed closed.

  They huddled around the cart to decide what to do but they already knew. They couldn’t go back empty handed. They needed the food and what good was having weapons if they were too afraid to use them?

  “Okay.” Cody said. “Donny and I with the spears, Harper and Swan pry the door open and you two make sure it doesn’t open too wide. Just enough to stab them when they try to get us. Ready?”

  Wide eyes and nervous head nods. They were as ready as they’d ever be.

  The woman near the magazine rack heard them as soon as Swan shoved a tomahawk blade between the doors to pry them apart. Harper got her spear in the slot and the door slid open a few inches. She turned her black eyes to the sounds and smelled the untainted blood flowing through their veins. She screamed and launched herself at the two boys standing on the other side of the glass, her greasy, dank hair flying behind her. Other keens and screams took up the call and pounding feet came up the aisles sensing fresh meat. Her vein mottled face hit the frame and a reaching arm shot through, clawing the air and grabbing for flesh. Tobias had his shoulder against the door and Annalise had her Warhammer wedged in place but it still shuddered and slid open another inch. Cody thrust his spear, aimed for her eye and grunted with the effort as it broke through the thin wall of bone and pinned her in place. Her flailing stopped almost immediately, her legs crumpled and he had to jerk back hard to free his spear.

  Before she hit the floor, two more were fighting to be the first at the children. Old brown blood stains covered a man’s jacket, his yellowish shoulder bone poking through the shredded skin. Donny jabbed at him and the point tore into his cheek, slid off bone and flaye
d open a deep gash along his head. The man snapped at the steel, tried to bite through it and only broke his teeth. Pieces of them flew as the boy pulled back and stabbed again, this time aiming for the wide-open mouth. Filthy, clutching hands in a homemade carpet covered jacket reached for him, tried to dig dirty fingernails into flesh. The end of the spear burst out of the back of his head in a spray of black and yellow goo and before Donny could pull out, the man was shoved aside by a woman scrabbling over the fallen bodies. The door gap was wider now and the twins tried to force it back but the wild haired woman already had her head and shoulders through. She thrashed and screamed a dry scratchy scream then shoved it open, knocking both of them aside. Her frenzied flailing knocked Cody’s spear away and she launched herself at Donny. Harper screamed. Her bloody mouth was stretched wide as her hands grabbed his shoulders and she fell on him, snapping at his face. A black blur hit her, sharp claws slicing through skin like paper, snarling fangs closing around her neck and snapped it like a twig. Yewan’s mighty leap knocked her ten feet away from them and he savaged her mercilessly, ripping and shredding until the lifeless corpse lay still.

  “Watch out!” Murray yelled and they all turned away from the panther, back to the door. A toddler was climbing over the bodies, his hungry black eyes fixed on them as he snapped his milk teeth, the hunger driving him forward. Tobias tried to shut the door but the bodies blocked it. The baby keens were getting shriller the closer he got and Cody picked up his dropped spear. Donny scooted away on all fours as the thing came at him.

  “Stab it! Stab it!” Swan yelled but Cody hesitated. It was just a baby. It was inhumanly fast and was grabbing at Donny’s foot as he tried to get away, tried to kick at it with his falling apart tennis shoe. There was a guttural growl from behind him then the wolves shot past and tore into the scuttling little monster. Lucy and Zero sank fangs and clamped down, both of them ragging and pulling on the thing like it was a toy. A leg and an arm tore off and they dropped them and went after it again. It was still keening and trying to crawl towards Donny, its little mouth still working in hunger. Black blood oozed from the wounds but didn’t spurt out like they expected. The heart wasn’t pumping and very little was spilled. The wolves grabbed the baby again and when they were finished, it was finally still.

  Swan knelt between them, draped her arms over their shoulders and rubbed her face in their fur. Zero licked at the tears she didn’t even know she’d been shedding. No more of the undead came screaming out of the darkness of the store and they all heaped praise on the animals. They had hoped they would protect them, they had hoped they would fight for them but until it happened, they weren’t sure. Now they were. The animals had the same instincts as a family dog would in protecting his master.

  They drug the bodies out to the parking lot, left them by a truck then pulled out their flashlights and started loading up the garden cart. They piled the back of the golf cart high with boxes and boxes of canned goods and bags of dog and cat food.

  The wolves and panther wouldn’t like it much but it would keep them from starving until they learned how to hunt. They avoided the meat and deli section; the reek was almost unbearable. Worse than the smell of the zombies. Murray rolled his chair up and down the aisles making inventory notes as the rest of them hurried back and forth to the cart with the pilfered supplies.

  It didn’t take long until they were loaded almost to the point of being overloaded and the group started their trip home. They moved quietly but with more confidence. They had met the enemy head on and destroyed it. They had fought and killed and their animals had too. They were a team. They were bad asses.

  Eyes and ears were alert. Even though the place seemed abandoned a wandering dead thing could be hidden anywhere. Aside from their quiet passage down the streets and the crunching of leaves, the scurrying of small rodents and the calls of the crows were the only signs of life.

  There was one more stop on their list, they had to get clothes and good shoes. The Outdoor Store should have everything they need. It carried everything from high end camping, hiking and fishing equipment for the well-heeled in town along with military surplus and old war paraphernalia for the collectors. It was already fall season and they hoped winter jackets were in stock.

  They gathered around the single glass door and tried to peer inside but the store was dark and cluttered with too much stuff. Tobias rapped on the glass pane with his pipe hammer and the response was instantaneous. They heard a snarl and low scream from the back of the store then the clatter of things being knocked over as something surged to the front. It was a fat man with a gray hair and beard. At one time he was probably jolly and loved children. He was probably the guy who played Santa at the VFW Christmas party or threw candy to the kids during the Parade. He slammed into the door and despite themselves, they jumped back a little. He still loved kids, which was apparent, just not in the same way he used to. He pressed his face against the glass and tried to chew through it. The three predators crouched low, ready to spring, and there was a low rumble of warning coming from them. Donny and Tobias had to struggle to get the door open enough, he kept slamming into it trying to force his way through. Once they shoved it open a few inches, a hand came out and a spear went in. Cody pulled back quickly before the thing fell and took the spear with him. He was learning. They drug the Santa Clause looking man out onto the sidewalk and left him. This would be a place they would be coming back to from time to time and there was no use letting the body stink the place up.

  Once Murray was inside, they spread out to go shopping. The Outdoor Store was big. It was overstuffed with auction lots of military gear haphazardly stacked beside displays of expensive hiking boots from Timberland, Keen and Columbia. Arc’teryx and North Face jackets hung next to military issue ACU’s. Mannequins wearing World War Two uniforms were standing on boxes of Mountain Home long term storage food. China found a bag of beef jerky and Murray had a captive audience once the wolves and the panther smelled it.

  “Great.” he grumbled. “I’ll just wait here, feeding your animals. You guys have fun!”

  “Thanks Murray.” Swan said as she disappeared into the gloom, completely missing, or maybe ignoring, his sarcasm.

  “Don’t forget Vanessa!” he yelled after her. “Size six!”

  China grabbed the bag out of his hand and darted to the top of a pile of old BDU uniforms tossed in a bin, chittering happily as the wolves watched their food disappear. They tried to go after her and things started falling over, clattering to the floor and starting a small chain reaction.

  Cody chuckled and headed to the rear of the store as Murray cursed, the monkey chittered and the wolves whined. Yewan ignored them all with a flick of his tail and padded after Donny.

  The animals hadn’t alerted to any more undead but he wanted to be sure, wanted to check the bathrooms and managers office before he completely relaxed and started hunting for a pair of hiking boots. He shone his light around the door leading to the storeroom and saw the dirty handprints, blood smears and scratch marks on it. The jolly zombie had been trying to get in. Cody turned the knob and pulled opened the door, his hammer ready to bash something in the head if he needed to. The smell nearly made him gag. It wasn’t a dead smell; it was a bathroom smell. A raw sewage, unflushed toilet and unwashed body smell that may have been worse than the rotting meat of the zombies. There was a stack of boxes blocking the pathway but he easily shoved them aside. The room was crammed with more military stuff and a set of small, dirty windows set up high in the block wall let light filter in.

  “I’ve got a gun. Move one more muscle and I’ll blow your stinking head clean off.” A trembling voice came from deep in the shadows.

  “Whoa.” Cody said. “I didn’t come to steal your stuff. We didn’t know anybody was here.”

  “What happened to that thing outside the door?” the voice said and Cody zeroed in on it.

  “We killed it.”

  “Bullshit. Those things are invincible. It’s been ou
t there for months. It doesn’t eat, it doesn’t sleep, and it scratches on the door day and night, week after week. You can’t kill them.”

  “We’ve killed a bunch of them.”

  “Liar.” the voice spat.

  Cody kept the flashlight trained on the wall of junk in front of him but his eyes were adjusting to the gloom. He spotted a kid no older than himself huddled in the corner with a machete in his hand.

  “Don’t look at me.” he barked “I’ll shoot you! I’ll blow your friggin’ brains out!”

  Yewan walked up, curious about the new voice and Cody spun the light full the kid. He was blinded but not before he saw the giant, black cat. He squealed and dropped the blade. Yewan stood beside him, as tall as his waist, his baleful yellow eyes pinned the kid to the spot. A wet spot spread across the front of the boy’s camouflage pants as he covered his face and whimpered.

  “Don’t let him eat me.” he begged. “Please don’t let him eat me.”

  “Dude, chill out. He’s harmless.” Cody scratched the cats’ neck then pushed him towards the door. Yewan left with a flick of his ears and small snort. He didn’t like the smell either.

  “Geez, you’ve been trapped in here since the beginning?” Cody asked, trying to put the boy at ease. “That had to suck.”

  He was repulsed by what he saw. The kid had made a toilet out of a wooden ammo crate and liquids were oozing out of it, staining the floor in one corner. His makeshift bed was only a few feet away, a bunch of clothes thrown on the ground. There were old girlie magazines laying on it, open to his favorite pictures. There were empty MRE packets and other garbage strewn around but not a trash can in sight. Stacked against one wall were cases and cases of the standard military field food. Probably recently expired and bought cheap at a surplus auction.

  “You really got rid of the zombie?” the kid finally asked when he realized he wasn’t in any immediate danger.

  “Yeah, easy as pie once you know how.” Cody couldn’t help but brag a little.