After The End (13 page)

Sunny smiled and jumped in.

“Thankfully, we’ve already reinforced all the
structures here and stockpiled provisions, so we won’t have to
scramble for that stuff. We will need to upgrade the traps and prep
for defense from rampaging assholes instead of just run-of-the-mill
zombies though. And maybe Bubba can check out the arsenal of guns
for us in case it comes down to a shootout.”

I stood to put the plan in action.

“I’ll tell Cal our game plan on my way to
help out at the entrance and Sunny can fill Daemon in. If one of
you could relieve me at the end of watch as well, that would be
awesome.”

Forrest guffawed and stomped his denim-clad
leg.

“Hell, I’ll do that watch. Sure did miss this
place, may as well help keep it from gettin burnt to cinders.
Besides, there’s nuthin like a tough gal planning fer a fight.
Reckon I’ll even stay a few weeks this time so I don’t miss out on
scrappin with them hooligans.”

He stood and stretched towards the waxing
moon as he finished speaking. His graying hair poked out under the
worn hat, betraying his age more than his lifestyle. Hefting his
bag onto his shoulder without a sound, the country thrill-seeker
strutted towards the cabins to rest before sentry detail. At dawn,
some of his bunk-mates would be startled to wake up next to his
grizzled face again.

As I rose to my slumbering feet to join the
guard up front, Sunny joked,

“It’s nice to have Forrest back. He’s fun, he
works hard, he’s a true southern gentleman, and he always shows up
with Hell licking at the soles of his feet.” The quiet laughter
followed as the remainder of residents dispersed for the night.

I’ve had about enough of Hell for a lifetime.
Maybe this new pile of crap will land on someone else’s door.

For a week we waited and prepared for
ransacking lunatics and tourists. Both Undead volunteered to scout
the ruins of the condo encampment; Forrest was gung-ho to lead them
to the location until Chase pointed out how weak everyone would be
if we separated.

Daemon and Bubba both continued to press the
matter until Sunny stepped in and admonished them about unnecessary
risks and tossed a few grimaces their way. Cal thought it was
hilarious; he stood behind her pantomiming her scolding for almost
a minute before she realized. The elder vampire may heal quickly,
but that slap must have been painful; the mark was visible from
five yards away.

All three signed up for extra sentry details
immediately once their quest was canceled. I noticed that not only
had they begun to battle train daily, but the whole community had
also taken to practicing more thoroughly for combat. Forrest even
cleaned and checked the working condition of all the firearms
accumulated in the locked chest. The growing hamlet of Nova Nocte
was ready and equipped to defend; we simply lacked an
assailant.

The daily grind made the meager relaxation
periods more satisfying. Most evenings without work, I just joined
in the talks around the fire, played board games, or listened to
Cal’s story hour with the tykes.

Six days after our hillbilly wanderer’s
arrival, I passed the time playing cards with Daemon until we were
supposed to sit guard. Even with preternatural speed, he was
horrible at sleight of hand.

“Stop cheating! I can see you bottom-dealing,
Daemon.”

He grinned as he shrugged like a toddler
covered in paint.

“What, I’m not cheating, I’m just lucky
tonight.” He denied as I reached for the deck. The young vamp
pulled the deck up over his head and teased.

“Oh you want the cards? You want to see
what’s coming up next for your hand, huh. Who’s cheating now,
Squirrel?”

I grasped after the blue bicycle deck causing
the already played cards to swirl around the blanket of the small
cot. He smiled sweetly as he continued to hold the stack beyond my
reach. I matched his laugh and tried to climb over him to grab the
cards.

“Come on Daemon, you just don’t want to admit
I caught you again.”

I lost my balance and nearly fell off the
bed; firm hands gripped me as a shower of spades and hearts
cascaded around us. Daemon looked into my eyes as he caught me, his
smile changed as his cool lips grazed mine gently.

Without a thought, my hands wrapped around
his shoulders and my mouth found his. His kiss was gentle but
passionate. His left hand wrapped in my hair and his fingers
massaged the back of my neck; his skin warmed against mine. The
right hand slid from my back to my waist, rubbing softly as our
lips parted.

Slowly, Daemon brought me over the cot, our
embrace continuous. The tips of his hair tickled my cheek as he
trailed butterfly kisses along my neck and ear. The vampire’s fangs
scraped teasingly along my taut flesh with each touch of his
lips.

We shouldn’t be doing this.
I need to stop us.

My brain tried to force my thoughts outward,
but all I could comprehend was how much I wanted Daemon.

Almost as though he heard my concerns
ricocheting through my mind, the vampire abruptly stopped. I felt
him inhale deeply and his body tense. I turned my head to face him.
Our eyes met even as our faces pulled away.

The longing to be together like this was
visible, but I could see him struggling with his control
already.

Cal was right. We couldn’t
be together, at least not now. I didn’t want to die — even in his
arms — and he didn’t want to kill me.

“We…we can’t. I’m sorry, I want to.
Desperately, in fact. But, I can’t risk…” His words tapered off as
his eyes went to every corner of the room. He eased his hands away
from me. Daemon stood and went to the doorway. “I think I’ll go
help Cal until my shift; I need more training anyways. From now on,
I don’t think we should spend time alone together. It’s just too
tempting.” In a blink, I was alone.

The shouting woke me.

“Strangers and Dead, everyone inside!”

Pulling on sneakers and buckling my sword to
my side, my legs carried me into the bright day before the sleep
dust fell from my eyes. Running towards the gateway, camp members
clamored inside the glimmering wall. They huddled near the tower
and checked who was still missing.

A frantic bellow pierced the air as I reached
the entrance. The two guards and myself quickly scanned our fellows
for infection as they approached. Looking towards the sound, I
found its source. There were eight or nine people running from
several dozen zombies.

Half of the zombies appeared to be infected
very recently and kept a close pace; rigor mortis hadn’t even set
in to make their movements slow and jerky yet. One had a rucksack
on its back and a rifle dragged the ground behind another, the
shoulder strap knotted around the creature’s wrist.

I noted a familiar pattern of blue, green,
and yellow on the shredded shirt of a young female corpse. My mind
whirred as I tried to process the clusterfuck of bad news
stampeding towards us.

I heard orders being given before I realized
they were pouring out of my mouth.

“Slide the gate shut until only one person
can fit through. Get three or four people on the tower with bows
and slingshots. No guns, it will just make things worse. Big stones
only. If your aim sucks, start grabbing the stockpile of arrows and
stones, you are going to cover ammo for the shooters on the
platform; use the pulley system, it’s faster. Anyone who comes in
had better be clear of infection.”

“The four of us,” I pointed at the guards,
Sunny, and myself, “are going to funnel the living inside and cut
down the ones who are infected if they make it past the gate.
Someone let the vamps know what’s happening and get the kids in
their cabin with the parents.”

Every muscle in my body tensed as the
adrenaline coursed through my veins. My vision focused on the
humans closest to the fort.

“Strip! Show no bite marks!” The first sentry
began to shout at the fearful runners.

Clothes peeled off without question as the
first three reached us and were admitted. Randolph stood a few feet
behind our entrance gauntlet tossing spare clothes at the
survivors. Small rocks began to fly and arrows were loosed.
Cadavers dropped like anchors at port, giving the next few people a
chance to draw near. A frazzled man carrying a small boy ignored
the instructions and I pushed him back.

“Please, you have to let us in! Don’t do
this!” He yelled over the repeated directions to show us they were
not infected with the Z-bug. I realized the child wasn’t
moving.

“Is he dead? Is he going to reanimate?” I
shouted at the crazed guy as I pushed him away for the third time.
“Either show us you’re both clear of infection or keep running from
the fleshies.”

“No, you have to let us inside. My son is
sleeping, he isn’t dead, he’s my son. Please help us, help my boy.”
He ranted as he continued attempting to shove his way past me; I
pushed him back with a kick. The boy stirred, opening his eyes and
tilted his face up towards his father.

I stepped back, unsure of what to do next.
The child dug its crooked teeth into his distressed father’s neck
and tore a chunk out while his small hands clawed at the man’s eyes
and cheeks like a rabid animal.

My blade cut right through the small cranium
and into the dying guy’s collarbone. Kicking the remains off the
sword, I swung it around to ensure they wouldn’t rise again, before
punting the corpses clear of the pathway. The archers and shooters
were blotting the sun intermittently as they rained down a more
permanent death on the progressing cadavers.

Only one of the recently deceased still
pursued the newcomers. Its more decrepit counterparts flowed
towards the encampment like a tidal wave of stench and low groans.
The noise was so guttural, I wondered if it was merely the
continuation of the infected’s death rattle escaping the cracked
lips.

In the minutes that felt like years, two
others made it to the gate, the man with a German Shepard at his
heels. Another stranger with visible bites tried to force her way
in, only to be met by Sunny’s spear.

In a single thrust, she shoved the spearhead
through the woman’s temple and out the other side. A gush of blood
flew through the air and a squelching sound marked its abrupt
removal. Sunny’s face was set in kill mode as she hastily harpooned
the body in the chest and dragged it out of the gateway.

The last of the recently turned gained on a
woman and boy. The kid was around ten or eleven years old and
practically carrying the woman against her will. I assumed it was
his mother; she kept trying to push him to leave her and run. I
felt a shove from behind as Chase dashed out towards the pair.

Sunny and I shouted after him, while I held
her back from pursuing her husband. He was yelling to the strangers
as he approached and they hurriedly tore off their shirts while
fleeing. Chase reached the pair and hacked at the zombie with his
ax. After a few strokes on the mangled remains, he looked over the
family.

They grabbed their belongings and dressed in
mid-run. A mass of other fleshies was stumbling after the trio from
the edge of the forest. Chase realized the danger; they could be
cut off from the camp and engulfed completely in a mass of ripped
limbs and gnashing teeth.

Sunny was frenzied as she dropped her spear
and reached for her husband, screaming at us to let her go. The
sunburned warrior lifted the woman, nudged the boy to run, and
sprinted for the gate. The boy galloped just ahead of them, looking
over his shoulder to see that his mom was still close.

He turned to his side as Chase came up next
to him and was suddenly gone. Chase had passed the child and was
yards from the gate when he noticed. The boy had tripped on one of
our snare traps, taking out his ankle.

Chase thrust the mother to me and bustled
away before Sunny could grab him. The groans of the Dead grew as
the towed their rotting bodies closer, the reek of decay and filth
invading our nostrils. Having untied the rope from his foot, the
kid was crying and limping as best he could, only to fall and drag
himself forward on his elbows.

In one swift movement, Chase slid in the
dirt, scooped up the injured boy, and flitted back towards the
gate. His ax fell from his hip while he leapt to his feet. The
archers were trying to aim for the zombies in his path. An arrow
grazed Chase’s right shoulder as the shot came to close.

The thin red streak dripped as Chase set the
boy on his good leg and helped him reach the wall. Two fleshies
clamored after them. Chase handed the boy to me to be shuffled in
to safety. Hearing the corpses at his back, he drew his Bowie knife
and turned.

A broken jaw missing several teeth wobbled
and bit down on his left hand as the skeletal zombie stumbled from
the side of the wall and latched onto the limb.

Chase brought the blade down, leaving his
hand to the moaning fleshie and retreating within the gate.

I heard Sunny screaming behind me as her
spouse bolted past. She picked up her spear and rushed after him to
the fire pit; hastily, a burning log was lifted and the bleeding
stump was cauterized to the soundtrack of Chase’s agonized yells. I
slammed the gate closed and the guards barricaded the steel frame,
while I ran to assess the situation with my friends. The dog
circled around them, sniffing Chase every few moments; his owner
watched intently with furrowed brows.

Five yards from the couple, Sunny reared on
me with her spear aimed at my throat. I dug my heels in the dirt
and threw my arms in front of my chest to halt my stride. The
canine growled low, his handler flinching. Randolph and Bubba
raised their weapons slowly. Sunny looked around with her head and
hands unwavering; her nose flared as she addressed us.