The
loud
booms
from Hank’s pistol suddenly ceased, and were replaced by a
single ominous click.
The
remaining infected surged forward, their weight pushing Sun Dress into Tom,
sending them all crashing to the floor. Landing with a hard crack, all the air
was pushed from his lungs. Gasping, he tried to get room to pull the knife
free. The weight of several infected was beginning to crush him, unable to get
air his eyesight was beginning to sparkle and blur. The body of Sun Dress was
the only thing keeping several gnashing mouths from reaching him. Shifting his
head and neck as far to one side as possible, he was just able to slide the
knife free, a torrent of blood gushing onto him. Stretching his arm around sun
dress, he began wildly stabbing at anything within his reach. Surprisingly cool
blood flowed down off of her body. The blood of the undead he was sure.
His
vision was beginning to fade into a blurred grey. He heard muffled shouts,
sounding far in the distance. He tried to take a final gasp of air, but the weight
was too much. The grey faded to black and the world slipped away.
It
had been a couple days since Kelly first made contact with the infected.
Looking back, she now realized she should have gone straight to her bedroom, grabbed
the shotgun, and blew both the Chandlers off her porch. Now their incessant
pounding at the front door had drawn at least a couple dozen more infected.
The relentless booming never stopped, day or night, nearly driving her and Sam
to madness. An endless cycle of country music now quietly played in an attempt
to drown out the noise.
Glancing
out the upper windows, any time of day she, would see several of the infected
stumbling around their yard. Many looked to have been in a horrible accident,
gruesome wounds and dark blood covering their bodies.
There
was one girl that Kelly frequently saw staggering in the grass below the
window. Only a bloody stump remained where her right arm used to be, and a
portion of her face was missing. She looked to be young, maybe in her
twenties, blonde hair and probably filled with happiness and a sense of
indestructibility just days ago. Now she stumbled around in her daisy dukes
and torn pink t-shirt with “Too Hot” written across her chest in glittery
letters. Kelly had named her “Plinky” for some reason, maybe just to pass the
time. Based on her wounds, Kelly could not imagine how the girl was still
alive, let alone walking around.
If
others stood out as they passed below she would name them as well. Even Sam
got in on the action and named a few. At first she had tried to keep him away
from the windows, but soon realized he had better know what was going on, at
least to some extent. He had taken it better than she ever could have
thought. After she was all done explaining the best she could, he simply said,
“So they’re zombies.” Initially she thought to correct him, but decided it did
not matter and now she was beginning to think he might just be right.
Looking
down at Sam playing with cars on the floor, she was amazed at how resilient kids
were. They just keep going, oblivious to the dangers around them, trusting
their parents will keep them safe. Nothing worried her more than not being
able to protect him. To let him down in this moment of need would be the worst
fate she could imagine. With the nightmares and constant stress, she had slept
very little over the past days.
“Wanna
play Mommy?”
“Not
right now honey.” Turning away from the window and kneeling down beside him.
“I have an idea. Why don’t we pack stuff to go camping?”
“Camping!
Yes! Let’s do it!” Sam said, jumping up from his cars.
Unable
to hold back a grin, she said, “We can’t go right now, but we can get our stuff
ready.”
“What
about Daddy?”
“Let’s
just get our stuff ready and see if he gets here soon.”
Tom
taught in his training to always have a “go-to-hell bag” or “bug-out bag” for
times when things went bad, then you could grab it and know you had the
necessities to survive for a few days. When he made a couple packs for the
family and put them out in the shop they never anticipated having raving
lunatics between the house and their backpacks. She and Sam would have to make
due and gather what they could.
They
had plenty of food and supplies to withstand an extended
siege, but if those things found a way inside she would feel much better having
bags to grab on their way out. If nothing else, maybe she would sleep better
feeling like she was doing something to protect little Sam.
“Why
don’t you go grab your adventure backpack…I think it’s hanging on your door
handle? Mommy will help you get some clothes in a bit.”
Sam’s
little legs churned and his arms pumped as he sprinted out of the room, on a
mission. “I’ll load stuff.” He shouted from down the hall.
Grabbing
a couple day packs out of her closet, Kelly loaded one with extra clothes
and then headed downstairs in search of goods.
Fifteen
minutes later she stood over her day packs, not fully satisfied, but knew she at
least had the necessities. She figured as long as they at least had clothes,
food, water, and the ability to make fire they could survive for quite awhile.
They should be able to scavenge for more if it came to that.
The
shop containing their gun safe was less than a hundred feet away, but it might
as well have been a hundred miles. If only she could figure out a way to get
to her hunting rifle.
Interrupting
her thoughts, Sam came hopping down the stairs. “Ready mom." He said,
puffing his chest out, a proud grin on his face.
Rubbing
her hand through his hair, she said, “Let’s go take a look.”
He
spun around, little feet pattering up the steps. Kelly followed him up to his
room where she found his backpack sitting on the floor in the center of his
room. The bag bulged from its contents. Unzipping the top, she could not help
but laugh when she saw it filled with toys.
“What
mom?”
Still
laughing, she said, “Should we take some clothes?”
He
looked down toward his feet and then back up at his mom with a look that said
can’t
you see I’m dressed dummy?
“How
about you pick two small toys to keep in there and I will get you some clothes
and jammies?”
Looking
down at his backpack, clearly wondering how he would ever pick just two toys,
he said, “Two?”
Knowing
he would do as she asked, even if it was grudgingly, she headed to his dresser
to gather the other items he would need.
A
few minutes later she had all three backpacks lying near the base of the
stairs. This was the central point of the house and was connected to the back
door by a short hallway. Kelly felt good about the location and decided she
would bring them upstairs with her when they went to bed.
She
and Sam sat down in the living room to play some board games and try to block
out the incessant pounding at the front door.
******
The
room was cramped, containing only a tan microfiber couch, a small coffee table,
and a wall mounted flat screen. It was clean, smelling of Pine Sol and Windex.
The soft light of evening filtered in through the partially closed blinds,
casting long shadows of the three men standing over the table.
“We
need to get back to the mog, but we have to wait.” Hank said.
He
looked terrible. The scratches from days before were swollen, red, and filled
with small white blisters. In addition to these, were newer wounds from the
battle at the top of the stairs, including a huge gash from temple to neck, a
black eye, and an ear with the upper half torn off.
“We
have to get moving, I can’t just sit here rotting…on top of that we’re nearly
out of food.” Ben replied.
Hank
looked over to Danny to see what his response would be.
Danny
sat down on the couch. “I’m with Ben, we need to move. Every time I look
outside there seems to be more of them wandering around the streets.”
Hank
paced around the room, trying to think. The last couple days had been just like
this, them standing around arguing over what the next plan should be.
“Hey!
He’s coming to!” Rachael’s voice could be heard shouting down the hallway.
Hank
raced down the hall, turning into one of the back bedrooms. The room had
previously been a little girl’s bedroom. Little ponies and teddy bears
surrounded a lacy pink bed. In the center of the bed, propped up on a couple
pillows lay Tom, with his eyes finally open. He had been under since the
attack and none of them were sure he would pull out of it. Rachael sat beside
him, cupping one of his hands in hers.
“Well
look at you. Sleeping beauty’s finally awake.” Hank said with a grin, clearly
happy to see Tom looking alive. “You don’t look nearly as bad as the others
that have come back from the dead.”
Tom
sat with a confused look on his face. He did not look near as torn up as Hank,
having only minor bruising on his face. All things considered, he looked great
for having been dead for over a minute.
He
looked over to Rachael, “Where are we?”
She
rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a smile, happy to hear him talk. “I
don’t know how much you remember, but we are in a newer housing development,
about four blocks from the old building.” She looked over toward Hank. “Can
you get us a glass of water and maybe some of those crackers?”
Hank
gave a quick salute and left the room.
Turning
back to Tom, Rachael said, “How do you feel? Do you remember much?”
Closing
his eyes, he said, “Yeah, head hurts…I feel okay…I think I remember everything
up until they swarmed over me. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t get ‘em off.”
Opening his eyes he looked over at Rachael, locking on her large brown eyes.
They were warm, comforting. She sat still, looking back at him, tears welling
up in her eyes.
“I
‘m so glad you’re okay. I thought maybe you…” She was unable to finish,
instead she moved her hand to his neck and leaned in toward him. He was nearly
certain of her intentions and turned his head away, unsure if his feelings
mirrored hers. She quickly sat back. “I’m sorry…I…” the words catching in her
throat.
“Here
comes the gravy train!” Hank blurted out as he came rushing into the room,
holding a glass of water and a package of crackers. He slowed when he saw the two
of them, Rachael with tears streaming down her red face, and Tom looking like he
saw a ghost.
Completely
unsure of what to say, Tom was relieved for the distraction. Plus the sight of
food made his stomach rumble, reminding him of just how hungry he was.
“Am
I interrupting something?” Hank asked.
“No,
you’re fine.” Tom reached for the crackers and water. “Thanks.”
Rachael
stood, brushing tears from her eyes, and headed for the door.
Hank
pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward her retreating form and gave a
questioning look.
Tom
shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say. He sipped at his water, not
wanting to make himself sick by chugging too much at once. Between drinks, he
nibbled on the crackers.
Sitting
down in Rachael’s vacated chair, Hank said, “I’m not going to beat around the
bush. We have to move out pretty soon. Every day the numbers of undead and
demented out on the streets keeps increasing. I think a lot of people died
those first couple days and now we’re seeing the affects.”
Pulling
himself up to a sitting position, Tom asked “What happened anyways?”
Hank
sat back in his chair, scratching at the thick stubble on his face. “Rachael
saved our asses. I ran out of ammo. Started using my knife. I think you were
down by that point. That’s when she came rushing down the hall shouting for the brothers to
help. Had a chunk of metal pipe in her hands.” Making
swinging motion with his hands, Hank went on, “She started bashing the hell out
of those things, screaming at ‘em the whole time. I was about to be
overwhelmed, a couple of them had me down beside you, and then the brothers
came rushing in behind her with a couple wooden desk legs. There weren’t many
left at this point and most of them were the slow moving undead. The four of
us were able to make quick work of them…went around bashing in skulls just to
make sure they wouldn’t surprise us later.”
Tom
nodded his head. “Brothers huh…guess they do look alike. They with us?”
“Yeah,
they’re out in the living room.” Hank said, nodding his head back toward the
door.
“How
are they?”
“They
seem alright. Younger one, Danny, is scarred out of his mind, but seems to be
a good kid. He’s been helping Rachael, does whatever needs done.” Hank
glanced over his shoulder then looked back to Tom. “Older one is a bit antsy…I
think he was about ready to leave you…us. Rachael told them about the mog.”
He held up both his hands and said, “Hold on, I’m gettin’ a bit ahead of
myself. After we beat ‘em off of you, Rachael found you dead, ticker not
ticking type dead. She pounded on your chest, mouth to mouth, the whole bit.
Brought you back.” He hesitated a bit, thinking. “You’re lucky she was
there. I wasn’t about to resort to mouth to mouth.”
This
got a chuckle out of Tom. “How’d we end up here?”
Nodding,
Hank replied, “You still weren’t awake. Breathing and beating, but
non-functional. More of those things could be seen outside, coming our way, so
we decided to bug out.” Looking around the room he continued, “It was light by
then and we went out the back window they had bashed in, found this place.
Packed your heavy butt the whole way. Been here a couple days now.”
“So
what’s the story with the brothers?”
“Holed
up in their house for a couple days and then when they started scouting out to
leave, they attracted the whole lot of ‘em. That’s when we caught wind of the
situation.” Glancing over his shoulder again, he went on, “They say they want
to stick with us. Ben insisted they head for the mog with gas…come back and
get us. I’m not so sure they would’ve come back.”
Tom
threw the blankets off of himself, a bit embarrassed to find he only had his
boxer shorts on. “Clothes?”
“They
were a bloody mess. Rachael took them off to get you all cleaned up.” Hank
stood and walked over to the shelves on the wall and grabbed a stack of
clothes. Holding them out for Tom, he said, “Are you sure you’re ready to be
moving?”
Not
responding, he took the clothes and began dressing, wincing in pain from time to
time. His body ached everywhere, reminding him of the hell he had been
through.
Walking
out into the hall, he saw Rachael standing near the window of what looked to be
the parent’s bedroom. He stepped in and decided it was better to deal with
this now. “I don’t want this to be awkward, I…”