Authors: R. G. Richards
All I could do was watch. My body refused to move, paralyzed by my actions. I watched the zombie catch and leap into the stopped truck. Several men tried fighting it, but it did no good. Zombies feel no pain. I wanted the truck to move, it had no driver. I saw three zombies pull him from the truck and eat him. I couldn’t even fire at them.
People kicked and hit the zombie with no effect. The zombie reared and bit one man in his belly. The screams from the man chilled my soul, he fell over. Instead of eating him, the zombie bit others in the truck.
I can only assume it was to turn them into zombies and increase their numbers. Were they that smart? We thought they were mindless creatures, driven to feed on human flesh. That is not what I was seeing. I tried to get my feet to move, but they wouldn’t budge.
With nothing else to do, I helplessly watched people screaming and jumping from the truck. They thought they were getting away from the crazed zombie. They had simply traded one hell for another. On the ground, those fortunate to stay down were bitten and eaten by chasing zombies. Those not so lucky, got to their feet and ran, only to fall prey to overpowering zombie hordes.
These unfortunates were not always eaten. Many passed out from the pain. Not the way I want to go, I assure you. Can you imagine running for your life? Your heart pounding, your adrenaline pumping, running until you are out of breath and knowing you still can’t stop or you’re dead? Can you imagine doing all this in a lost cause?
Take my word for it, a fate worse than death was these monsters catching and dragging you down. You fight and scream with no hope of salvation. Then, are bitten so hard that a chunk of flesh is taken out of you, only to look up and see the monster chewing on your insides as you pass out in pain.
You would think that would be bad enough, it isn’t. Your fate is sealed, you do not die. You stay unconscious for hours or days while they slowly take bite after bite out of your hide. If you are remotely lucky, people like me come along and put a bullet in your head or burn you. If not, and there is enough of you left after death, you wake a murdering, flesh munching monster.
I couldn’t snap my paralysis. To make it worse, I could see a zombie coming straight at me, its red eyes surging with lust. Its mouth wide open, showing its crooked and bloodstained teeth. I thought to close my eyes and surrender, I couldn’t even do that.
“Baker! Baker!”
I heard shouts, then the zombie’s head exploded in my face. Its gooey brains and blood stained me. The force of the body hitting me, made me move. When I was falling backward, I sprang to life. I managed to fall at an angle and forced the zombie to my left. I was back.
“Baker! This way! Move it!” Private Jones was calling me. He always knew how to get me going again.
I grabbed my gun and took off running. He ran to the back of a truck filled with soldiers, my squad. I jumped over bodies of dead zombies and humans. I moved with lightning speed. I can’t miss this truck, this was my ride, the last ride.
In case of evacuations, we soldiers would lay down fire and take the last train out of Dodge. The whistle was blowing and the train was pulling out. I ran for all I was worth and made it. I leaped into a fellow soldier, knocking him down, but made it into the back of the truck.
“Thanks,” I said, out of breath and low, to no one in particular. I looked at Private Jones and relayed my message of gratitude with my eyes. He tilted his head to me and I felt better. I could sit and look out at the carnage behind us. The truck I had been watching was swarming with zombies. They were feasting and what few shouts I heard, were coming solely from zombies.
I turned to Jones again to talk with my eyes; we were close enough that I’m sure he knew what I wanted to ask. Traces of his sandy, brown hair showed beneath his helmet. Traces of greenish, zombie blood blended into his uniform. I looked to his lips for my answer.
“He’s up front with the doctor. He is all right.” Private Jones nodded his head in reassurance.
I collapsed to the bed of the truck in pure joy. I shook for a moment and prayed no one saw. I could breathe better. As our truck sped away, I tossed and turned on the floor, letting the motion rock me to sleep. I had made it, so had my little brother.
Chapter 2
I woke to low voices. My squad contained six people. I thought everyone made it, but I was wrong. I counted only three survivors. I slept through the night on the hard truck’s bed and now my back ached.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” said Private Dushell, the only other female of my group.
I sat to look around at everyone. I didn’t recognize many faces. “Hey.”
“We thought we lost you last night,” said Jones.
“Yeah,” said Donovan. “Great Statue of Liberty impression. You are going to have to show me that one.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
“Maybe I will, Donovan. How about I shove a torch up your manhole and set it on fire?”
“Ooh!” Came the response from the peanut gallery. I smirked.
The truck wheels screeched and threw us forward into the truck’s cab. I luckily escaped a beatdown. Donovan was about to shame me with his killer comeback, he was the master.
“Baker, take point.” Private Jones gave the order. Without questioning it, I was in army mode. I rose with my weapon and ran to the back. The greatest lesson I learned in boot camp was conquering fear. You dive in with both feet. Pushing yourself into the arena of death makes you focus. Right now, that is what I needed to do to survive the day. To let my mind wonder to other topics could get me dead in a heartbeat.
I stuck my gun out, then my head. I heard nothing. I craned my neck, still nothing. Assuming it safe, I hopped out the back of the truck to scan the area. Not seeing anything, I yelled, “clear,” and my crew joined me. The others stayed put while we canvassed the area.
We were alongside a small stream. Dushell and I went toward the water while Jones and Donovan took positions on the road. We completed our scans and found nothing.
“All clear,” shouted Jones.
With that, those in the back came out and looked around. I was concentrating on the front door of our truck and watched the passenger door open. An older woman stepped down wearing a white nurse’s uniform. Behind her was my brother, Simon. I wanted to run to him, but couldn’t.
When I first joined the army, I got into major trouble over Simon. Every time I saw him, I would stop what I was doing and run to him. Many times, like now, I was on guard duty. I would desert my post, as they called it, just to go and give him a hug.
Why they couldn’t understand it, was beyond me. He was all I had left out of an extralarge family. I needed him. The army, being the army, beat it out of me. Not all the way, but damn near. Once, I got the standard treatment of marching in place in full gear while a water-hosed sadist sprayed me all night long. That didn’t break me. Two days later I did it again. That time, I found myself in the stockades, next to a bitten woman in transition.
I learned my lesson. I haven’t deserted my post since. I smiled and gave Simon a wink as he held the nurse’s hand. My gun stayed high. I didn’t move other than that. He was only twelve, but he understood. Before he would have run to me, but now he only smiled and kept his distance. We would talk later once everything settled down.
My anxiety rose by what I saw next, his doctor, Doctor Blake. I didn’t like the man the first time I met him. It wasn’t because he was black, I’m not prejudice. The way he hung around my little brother, the way he petted him, the way he got Simon to trust him so easily, it bothers me.
We have only been here a couple of months. I went straight to the army and Simon went into general population. I saw him a month later, and by then, he was attached to this man. It made my blood boil. I was his family; he should only be attached to me, not some random stranger.
“Baker,” roared Private Jones. “Take the west perimeter, Dushell, take the east.”
“Yes, sir,” said Dushell. She left immediately.
I waited, he came toward me. “Yes, sir.” I said, but stayed put. When he was next to me, I spoke softly. “Why are we stopping here, sir?”
“Breakfast. You will keep guard while the civilians bathed in the stream, then they will sit down to breakfast. You will rotate out after they have finished. Is that good with you, Private?” he winked.
I saluted. “Very good, sir.”
I took my post by a tree and watched the bathers. They needed it, zombie blood covered them. They hadn’t fought. I imagine it was from running and falling over the bodies. I watched the civilians and some soldiers strip to their underwear and wash as best they could. Embarrassment flowed across me, I could barely shower with another girl.
They finished their bath and ate. My stomach growled looking at all the tin cans. Being so far away from camp, they looked tasty. I always found them slightly repulsive. I had a fear of botulism. It was tough getting over it, but I won the battle. Now, anything in a can- even chopped zombie- I looked at with newfound appreciation. I couldn’t wait until it was our turn to eat.
Dushell and I were rotated out two hours later. We grabbed our packs from the truck and moved out. I had to use the bathroom, but held it. Experience had taught me well. Being the only girls in our squad, Dushell and I stuck together. Zombies were the biggest threat, but it was still a man’s world and we were women. Actually, she was a woman, twenty and gorgeous. I could only dream of having her looks and body. Tall, with long flowing blond hair that went past her shoulders, she was something.
Me, I was plain Jane in her shadow. I pumped myself up by saying that if surrounded, whether by men or zombies, she would be the star attraction. While they chumped on her, I could get away. It was wrong to think it, but I could be petty when necessary. That, and a warped sense of humor, were my weapons.
Dushell and I ate our vienna sausages while walking to the stream. We went around the side, away from everyone. With the world destroyed, we were still modest. I couldn’t blame her, if the guys got a good look; she would have to fight them and zombies. I guess through osmosis, her fear transferred to me. We were in this together. We found a spot to take off our uniforms and set them on the shore. I gazed at the metal pipe sticking out of her backpack. I smiled.
We entered the water in our underwear and swam out to where we could barely stand, only our heads shown. Our ritual was to wave, so we did. The distant guard waved back, then turned his back to patrol the area. We had no soap, so we washed as best we could to get the blood off us. We would do our clothes next and change into our only other pair of clothing. For combat, we only take the essentials. That meant one change of clothes, ammo, food and water.
Dushell directed me to shallower water. She followed swiftly. The beautiful bombshell made a face, I stepped back from her. “Oh gross!”
She laughed. “Stop being stupid, it’s natural.”
“You could have warned me.”
Her panties were in her hand, I could see them in the water. With her other hand, she cleaned herself after a bowel movement. I could have looked around for it, but I chose not to. The world was a gross enough place.
“Stop playing and hurry it up,” Dushell said. “Do it now, while no one can see.”
I looked around to make sure no one was looking. I squatted a little and I peed. She looked as if disgusted with me, but I didn’t care. There was no need to remove my underwear if that’s all I had to do. Giving in to her look, I relented. I reached down and took them off to shake them out better. I would need to wash them anyway.
In the distance, we heard a scream. Then we saw it at the same time. Our guard was in the death grip of a zombie way off behind a big tree. He didn’t have time to fire a shot. I can only imagine he went behind the tree to take a leak. He came out screaming with the zombie attached to his back, flailing, trying to get it off. He ran a little then fell. The zombie howled before biting into his back.
Suddenly, zombies swarmed our camp. Shots rang out from every direction. Dushell and I fell, trying to run and put on our underwear at the same time. We stopped and got it right before racing for the shoreline.
Without further thought to our state of dress, we grabbed our guns and slung our packs over our shoulders. We went running around the bend looking for zombies. Dushell stopped, aimed, and fired, killing a zombie. She turned to the next and I opened fire on her right. We backed up, back to back, and fired at anything in front of us. She took out six and I downed three.
“Get dressed,” she yelled.
“Right.” I checked for more then dropped my weapon at my feet and threw on some pants and a shirt from my bag. I kept on my wet underwear, it would dry later. “Ready?”
Dushell looked around, “yeah.”
We went back around to see the full carnage. It was a bloodbath. By the shoreline, zombies made a buffet of our people. Nearly all our soldiers were down, the rest were now in hand-to-hand combat with guns and branches.
It appeared they had exhausted their ammo, their rifles served as baseball bats. “The civilians,” shouted Dushell. “Let’s get to them.”
We raced for the truck. It was the first time I had thought of my brother. “Simon! Simon!” I shouted like a mad woman. We shot the few zombies near the truck. We were in time to stop them from ripping open the door and pulling away the people in the front. Thank god. But the ones in the back were not so lucky. One zombie was inside biting a woman’s leg while another was gnawing on one of the scientist. Three civilians hit them with whatever they could, but they had no impact at all. We ran to help.