Winter's Salvation (16 page)

“Eric you have to see this.”  He was pointing to the window that faced the front of the house; the one from which Eric had pulled the shade down earlier.   

They stared out the window that looked over large amounts of green acres of land and on that land were the roaming zombies from earlier making their way toward the house.  Behind that small group was another larger pack following behind them.  “They must of heard Rod screaming.”  Eric said, “go get our stuff and get ready to go.  I’m going to get your dad.” 

Eric turned back to the steps and when he got half way down a loud bang silenced his footsteps on the stairs.  At the bottom of the steps was the front door and staring at Eric through one of the three square windows at the top of the front door was the face of a zombie mashed against the window.  It could see him through the small window and began frantically banging on the door, as it got more and more excited by his presence.

“Hurry up we’re leaving now!” He screamed as he ran back up the steps and into his room.  Grabbing his back pack he tossed the power bars into it and glanced at the back of the farm toward the barn.  Rod was quickly pacing the front of the barn scratching at his head, trying to pull his short black hair over his face.  Drew entered the room with Rod’s shoes and back pack in his hands and grabbed his own pack. 

The tops of a few more ghoul’s heads could be seen from the other smaller windows of the door as the undead started to pile onto the front porch.  They ran through the back door and both of them made eye contact with Rod by the barn at the far end of the property. 

“I’m gonna get him.  I’ll meet up with you on the other side of the fence.”  Eric pointed in the opposite direction of the barn.  “Try to stay quiet.”

Drew took off first running away from the farm house to get as much distance from the zombies and himself as possible and then headed north away from the barn.  Eric jogged toward the barn holding Rods back pack.

When he got within talking distance Rod turned from him and entered into the barn leaving the double doors swinging.  The barn was lit by beams of light shining through cracks in the roof and walls by the high noon sun
.  Particles danced in the rays of light from the dust that was kicked up from Rod moving quickly through the barn it.  He was crouched over a body in the middle dirt isle way.  The body was laying face down and Rod grabbed hold of the hair on the back of the ghouls head.  He pulled up on it forcing the dead body to bend backward and twisted the creature to face Eric. 

“See this.” Rod said. 

The face of the body was one of a boys.  No older than fifteen with no bruises or blemishes, but the complexion was a shade lighter than just pale.  Eric was not sure what to say, but let out a whimper of “Yes.”

“What is different about this one than the others?”

Eric looked down at the dead bodies that Rod had slain earlier that morning.  All the bodies were twisted and broken.  They all were farm hands in some way or another and he could not tell any true difference other than that one looked very young, so he stood there silent.

“This is the first one I killed when I truly found out how to kill them.”  He twisted it’s head the opposite way followed by a snap that would have killed any living human and revealed to Eric a bashed in bloody imprint at the back base of the head.  “You can shoot these things all day and you can smash their faces in, but the only way to destroy them is if you destroy the back part of its
brain.  I figured this out by taking my bat to this one’s head after killing a few of the others.”  He threw it’s face back into the dirt.  “Look at what I’m going to be.”  He circled looking at the other ghouls.  “I can’t do it Eric.  What if I come back for you or my boy?  I’m done, I’m going to change.  I can already feel it.” 

Eric moved closer to him and Rod screamed, “Stay back!  Don’t come any closer, I’m a monster.”  He was stepping back a few steps while he was talking and then he stopped and looked directly into Eric’s eyes.  “Give me your gun.”

Now he was confused.  He could not bear the thought of giving his best friend a tool that he knew he was going to use to kill himself.  He reached for his gun that was sitting in his deep pocket.  “I don’t know about….”

He was quickly silenced as Rod rushed to him and grabbed
hold of the gun that was still in Eric’s hands.  “Leave me.” Rod said quickly as if he was in a hurry and his words came sharply.  His once tan face took on the lightest shade of pale and black veins traveled up his body.  Rodriquez looked at him sympathetically with his eyebrows pulled together in a sign of sadness for just a second and said, “I need this.”   

Eric’s hands released from the pistol.  He turned his back on Rod and walked out the swinging barn door.  The undead were gathering around the house with the majority piling up around the front porch.  He began to walk away from the barn and down the small hill away from the farm house.  He knew he was running out of bullets for his rifle and had what would equal a whole box full of 9mm. ammo that was inside one of the back pockets of his book bag.  Eric was slow to move further away from the barn because in order for him to make it he was going to have to have that pistol.  Turning to the barn he watched as the zombies circled and crawled at the farm like bees swarming over their nest.  Their groans were loud enough that he did not have to worry about how much noise he made at this distance. 

A shot was fired and light flashed between the red boards of the barn.  Not being worried about how much noise he was making, made him comfortable with his movements, but the loud bang of the pistol forced him to jump and cringe, because he knew they all heard it.  Every mouth that was seething with anticipation to get into the farm turned its attention to the barn and Eric.  Quickly, instinctively and with everything they had they began to move toward him.  Most of them were clumsy and stumbled at the start, but some started to move smoothly and methodically one foot after another with control.  These were quicker and would soon be at the barn.   

He ran back into the barn and saw Rod leaning against a stack of bailed hay.  He ran over to him trying not to see anything above his chest.  He tried not to look at his face and focus on the gun that was still grasped in his hand that rested on his l
eft bare thigh.  He could not help himself and had to see what Rod had done.   

The shot was not to the back of the head, but the bullet traveled up under his chin and out the top of his head.  Rod knew this would not kill a zombie, but he did it this way because he did not want any
one to know he was a zombie.  Rod wanted whoever it was that was going to move him and clean the mess up in the barn that, this body, his body, was not a zombie and he took his own life before he changed.   

Removing Rod’s l
oose fingers from the pistol, Eric picked up the smoking gun.  The sound of constant footsteps and a groan was walking down the hill toward the barn.  Running out the opposite side of the footsteps he ran down the hill away from the farm house.  He ran so the barn was between him and the mass of ghouls and when he hit the tree line he broke north to catch up with Drew.            

Chapter 9

Nightmares and Shadows

The wind was picking up when she finally fell asleep and the sound of the leaves rustling against each other
drowned out the moans of the undead.  The air was cool in the house and a breeze from the barely open window brushed her cheeks. 

Naomi finally fell asleep spooning up against Sam with her arms
folded over her protecting her from the things that wandered outside.  The cool breeze traveled down her left ear, across her smooth jaw bone and down her neck.  It blew again, but this time the wind had a weight behind it and tickled her.  She brushed her jaw and cheek swatting away the invisible force and some of the braids that wrapped around her.  The feeling came back except this time she opened her eyes just a little and adjusted to the light coming in the window and reflecting off the wall.

Within the striped shadows of the blinds stood the figure of a person on the other side of the window.  She spun around quickly and saw the creature she ran over
in her driveway, falling on top of her.  The left side of it’s face was caved in and it’s jaw swung loosely on the left side.  The crimson red faced creature reached for her, as it fell through the window. 

Naomi sat up with a hard gas
p, waking Sam up as well.  She reached for her face and then reached for the window.  The sun was shining brightly this morning and when she looked at the wall, no shadows were visible. 

“You scared the crap
out of me.”  Sam said getting up and letting out a stretch.  She pulled her shoes from under the bed.  “I’m going to see what Mr. Cook was going to make for breakfast.” 

“Leave Mr. Cook alone,”
she adjusted her shirt and bra and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to wipe away the nightmare.  “We’ll fend for ourselves and maybe get back into the house to get some of our own food.”

Samantha heard her mother, but did not wa
nt to go back into their home.  Their house was infested with the undead and she did not want to have to deal with them again.  She was very content with staying here for as long as possible. 

Just then a small knock interrupted them
and Mr. Cook’s rough morning voice spoke through the old wooden door of their bedroom.  “I got some sausage, bacon, and a few eggs, ready to be eaten.” 

Sam looked to her mother, raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes as
if to say
see
.  She opened the door and traveled away with the old man.  The smell of cooked meat filled her nostrils and her stomach immediately responded with a low growl of appreciation. 

Mr. Cook had a wide display on the dining room table. 
Their plates were already set and in the middle of the table was another serving dish with more pieces of bacon, sausage and some toast.  On the far end of the table was a sizzling Coleman stove that was cooling down from the feast.

Upon Naomi’s entrance to the dining room kitchen area she forgot how yellow the room was and had to give her eyes a second to adjust.  She opened her eyes slowly and was shocked at the amount of food that was prepared. 

“Now I know what you’re going to say before you say it and I have a good reason for cooking all this food.”  Mr. Cook said as he sat next to the green Coleman stove.  “We have to start eating some of this because this food will start to go bad.  I threw some of it in the deep freezer in the garage, but that’s only going to keep for so long.  This was mostly stuff that was in the fridge.” 

Naomi wanted to come back with some kind of solution, but it was too early in the morning and she did not have an
acceptable one at that moment.  “Thank you.”  Was the only thing she could think to say.

“Maybe in a day or two if we’re still here, I’ll break out the generator and hook it up for a little bit just to freeze the food a little more.  We might be able to operate like that for a few days at least.” 

Naomi just nodded in agreement and then rubbed her eyes again.

“Yeah I always wanted to paint this room another color.”  He responded to her squinted adjusting eyes, while she scanned all of the Yellow knick knacks littering the walls.  “I have gotten used to walking around this place with my eyes closed, until I had my first cup of coffee. 
You know it has got to be about twenty two, maybe three years now that I have had to squint for about forty five minutes before I can actually fully open my eyes in the morning.  I have told myself time and time again, as soon as she passes I am painting these damn walls and getting rid of these damn knick knacks.”      

Blushing, Naomi apologized, she did not mean to offend Mr. Cook, but he would not accept her apology.  He knew the walls and décor were horrendous and he jokingly made fun of it.  “I have the paint in the garage just waiting.  Its been sitting there ever since she pas
sed.  I just always find something better to do when it actually comes time to painting.  Either that or it is too cold and can’t keep the windows down or it’s too hot, so I keep the AC running and I don’t want the house to stink.”  He ran a piece of white bread through the bacon and sausage grease that was starting to thicken on the Coleman stove. 

They sat and ate the largest breakfast they’ve had in a long time and Naomi started to wonder what they would do when all the food was gone.  “We have more food at our house.  If you wanted to run over,” she paused for a second, “or I could go over and get it.” 

“Hun you look like your back is giving you more trouble than my old decrepit one is, so I think it is fair to say you should probably just relax a bit.”  With that she sat down on the plastic covered chair and began to make a plate.  “I set up a generator in the garage, this morning.”  He said.

Naomi looked at him oddly and was about to say something as soon as she finished her mouth full.

“I ran an exhaust line under the garage door, so we won’t get gassed out.  I figured we could run it an hour or two every night just to refreeze some of the stuff in the deep freezer.  I have two five gallon gas cans filled and another one that has two maybe three gallons in it, so that should last us a few days.”  Mr. Cook said with a raised eyebrow.  He always tried to stay positive.