Amanda Carter in the L.A.Z., life after zombies (20 page)

BOOK: Amanda Carter in the L.A.Z., life after zombies
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Sam nodded but didn’t say a word.

Amanda dreaded it but walked forward anyway with a stride that bespoke more purpose than she felt. Sam padded along behind her, and Amanda didn’t stop her until they reached the door.

“I’ve heard nothing from this room, so I’m not sure what to expect when I open this door. I need you to stand back a little so that I have some room to fight if need be. It won’t help if we’re piled on top of each other,” Amanda said and watched as Sam took a few steps backward.

It was clear that the girl was feeling the same sense of pull toward the room, accompanied by an equal sense of dread. These types of warring emotions were common to Amanda, who had not stayed constantly inside the relatively safe confines of their camp but had chosen to brave the outside world in order to make life for the rest of them possible.

For her, quickly dealing with her emotions had become a finely tuned skill; but for Sam, this would all be new to her. Amanda knew that under these conditions, she could not count on the girl jumping into action quickly to help out with a possible threat. This type of training could not be taught around the camp but would have to be learned the hard way through time and experience. She would have to count on being on her own with whatever she found in this room, no matter how emotionally horrifying it might be.

Chapter 36

A
manda’s petite-gloved hand clasped the warm brass door handle, and she twisted it. She had the knife at the ready and could already tell that the flashlight would be unnecessary judging by how much light was coming from under the door. They had not drawn heavy curtains closed in their child’s room. The door opened with a soft squeak, and Amanda pushed it all the way until the brass handle thumped against the wall.

It was a relief to see that the bed was unoccupied by a corpse. The room looked to be cheerful, as opposed to the darkness of her parent’s room. Though the room was baking hot, it had a sunny carefree feel to it that drew Amanda partly in, a few feet past the doorway.

Cartoon art adorned the wallpaper with colorful unicorns, mushrooms, and elves. The bedspread was also colorful, depicting butterflies in flight. The twin bed was a canopy with ribbons and soft sheer pieces of pink and white fabric draping down. The desk across the room was tidy, organized, and sported a journal with the name Heather neatly printed in block letters on the front. A music box rested on top of the dresser, which was painted a pale pink and had white ceramic knobs.

There was a single blouse tossed on the carpeted floor; but otherwise, the room was dusty but immaculate, not something she would have expected from a child’s room. Either the child was as meticulous about her living space as her parents, or one or both parents had worked really hard to keep it that way.

For a moment, she was taken aback by the serenity of the scene; her eyes gobbling up the colors and neatly placed children’s toys. She had grown far too accustomed to scenes of mayhem and chaos to safely process this room as a possible threat. She inched forward, leaving Sam to stand on just the other side of the doorway. From the looks of it, this was about the most peaceful thing she had stepped into since the outbreak had started.

“This is seriously eerie,” Sam said in a whisper, also taking in the room.

Amanda moved farther into the room slowly, watchful. She stepped on a stuffed animal that she hadn’t noticed before, and it made a squeaking sound. She looked down and winced as she lifted her left foot off of it.

“Amanda, look out!” Sam screamed, so suddenly that it made Amanda flinch before she could respond.

Her head popped up quickly, body beginning to be poised for action, but she was too late. What had once been the young girl from the photos had leaped out from a crouched position behind the dresser. Time seemed to slow as she saw the child grab her left arm with her small finger’s latching onto the fabric of her shirt. Amanda reacted too late to get her arm back before the girl of about eight or nine bit down on her forearm, frantic for some form of sustenance that would never satisfy again.

She heard Sam screech, which caused Red to begin to bark. The baseball bat that she had been clutching released and softly thumped to the carpet as Sam stared at the horrifying sight. As Amanda had suspected, some things just couldn’t be taught from camp, and Sam had become paralyzed in place, too overwhelmed by the source of the threat and the suddenness of it to do anything about it.

Amanda quickly snatched her arm away, feeling the child’s teeth graze across the skin of her arm, having broken through the thin cotton fabric. The child lounged again, but this time, Amanda was ready and plunged the knife in, reaching her target on the first try. She pulled the knife out and then spun around to check on Sam, wanting to make sure that all the noise the girl had been making was coming from this threat and not some other one. She heard Heather’s body slump to the floor and felt some of the weight of her on one boot. She moved her foot.

Sam had begun to shake, her body going into shock. From the looks of it, there was no other threat, and for that, Amanda was relieved. But the girl was standing over the baseball bat that she had dropped, hugging herself, hysterical.

“It’s a kid, it’s just a kid,” Sam kept repeating as tears began to flow.

“It was a kid,” Amanda said, taking this time to look at her arm.

Sam nodded while she tried to catch her breath, eyes wide and wild-looking.

Wanting to make sure, Amanda quickly checked over the remainder of the room. Fortunately for them, there were no more threats. But unfortunately for her, the child’s teeth had made it through the material of her shirt and grazed her skin. There were three marks about three and a half inches long that looked like scratches, catching just the first layer of skin but not sinking into the muscle of her arm. She frowned, knowing what the implications of this might mean to her and concerned about Sam’s current state. No matter what happened, she had to get more supplies today and get the girl safely back to camp.

She tore the shirt off and dashed to grab Sam’s pack where the girl had stashed the antiseptic spray. Not knowing for sure whether this would help or not, she doused the cuts with spray until the aerosolized liquid was dripping from her arm. Next, she grabbed a clean towel from the linen closet and, moving purely on adrenaline-fueled instinct, began rubbing at the scratches until her arm had turned a bright pink from the friction. The last thing that she did for it was to grab the lighter from her pocket and run the flame over the wounds, wanting to kill any infection that might still be residing on and just under the surface.

She wanted to scream at the pain of the burn, especially since what remained of the antiseptic spray was causing the flame to burn hotter upon her skin. But she didn’t scream for Sam’s benefit, merely gritting her teeth and feeling her eyes water from the intensity of it.

“You’ve been bit, haven’t you?” Sam said in such a hushed tone that even the staunchest of librarians would have been proud.

“It’s not bad,” Amanda said, trying hard not to wince from the pain of the burn. “It barely broke the skin, just a few scratches, really.”

She repocketed the lighter and could hear Sam begin to wail. The burn continued to feel like it was a live flame still on her skin. She would just have to deal with it.

Amanda understood now why the parents had closed the child in the room and went to their own room to kill themselves.
That’s a tough one
, she thought, as she considered the situation that these poor people had been placed in. She felt stupid for not having put all the pieces of the puzzle together sooner. Perhaps had she managed to figure out what had happened here, then she would not have just been bit by the child, but there was no going back now. What they were going through was nothing like those video games that the kids used to like so much to play with their characters getting a new chance at life if they were to die.
This was real life, and real life was tough
, she told herself, but the truth of it didn’t help her to feel any better.

Sam had crumpled to the floor, crying, looking defeated, helpless. Red had begun to howl, and that might draw some unwanted attention if they weren’t careful. She needed to contain the situation and quickly.

She went to Sam, crouching and putting an arm around the girl. She tried to reassure her.

“We don’t really know what this means,” she said, not knowing if that were actually a boldfaced lie.

Up until now, everyone she knew and everyone Maryanne had known that had been bit had turned, end of story. But she still could not be certain 100 percent if this even fully qualified as a bite. But then again, she wondered if she might not be deluding herself from the reality of it.

“You’ll see, it will be fine,” she said, knowing now that she was really stretching the truth to the breaking point. “We’ll go back and let your mom have a look at it, okay?”

Sam sniffled and looked up and straight into her eyes.

“Are you sure about that?” she said, with her eyes demanding an honest answer from her.

“No, I’m not certain, but I think there’s a chance, given the lack of severity of the bite, that I might be okay. But I know that there are a bunch of people waiting on us to do our job so that they can live, so we need to pull ourselves together,” Amanda said, squeezing her by the shoulders.

“But what if you turn before we get back?” answered Sam, looking scared of the thought of it.

“It takes at least twenty-four hours before the fever sets in,” Amanda said. “We’ll make it back to camp before anything like that happens, if it even happens. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Sam, rubbing the snot that was dripping from her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.

Look
, Amanda thought morbidly,
there’s another use for wearing the long sleeves
. She didn’t know why, but sometimes during or shortly after intense situations, she would often feel the need to joke with herself about something meaningless and silly.

“We need to head down the stairs with one of the loads and assure Red that we’re okay before his stress barking draws a horde down upon us. Are you able to do that? He really needs to see that the both of us are okay,” Amanda said, standing and then extending her arm to Sam to help the girl to her feet. She was hoping that the thought of going to reassure Red would be the impetus that she needed to pull herself together.

“I can do that,” Sam said and then sniffled. She grabbed Amanda’s outstretched hand, allowing herself to be pulled up and onto her feet.

“We need to forget about what happened here for now and get on with our day. We can address it later, back at camp, but you need to know that you did good, warning me that there was a threat. It could have been so much worse,” Amanda said, not wanting Sam to feel any responsibility for what had so obviously been her own stupid mistake.

“I did?” Sam whispered while looking small and frail.

“Yes, you did. And now you need to pick up the baseball bat and come with me. Be strong, Sam. I need you,” Amanda said, putting as much authority into her tone as she could muster at the time. She was still feeling a little shaky herself, but it wouldn’t due to let Sam see that.

In fact, it was entirely possible that she had less than forty-eight hours to live before turning into one of them, she thought, sneaking a glance to the fallen child creeper on the carpeted floor of the otherwise perfect kid’s room. But it wouldn’t do for her to be having thoughts like that now because the pep talk she had just given to Sam still held true, especially now that there was a raging fire burning through town.

Sam blinked twice before taking a deep breath and reaching to retrieve the bat from off of the floor.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said in a voice that sounded frail still.

“Good,” Amanda said, feeling somewhat satisfied that she had her run partner back. “Now give the bat to me and load up as much as you can carry from the landing over there. I’ll keep my hands free and lead us down in case there’s any trouble.”

Sam nodded and, like an automaton, handed over the bat. Unfortunately, Amanda realized, the girl was still in a state of shock. But there wasn’t much to be done about that for now, and hopefully it would wear off soon, before a time would come that both of their skills would be needed. She knew that she would have to wait just a little longer before going to get the other truck for Sam to drive because it wouldn’t do to have the fifteen-year-old trying to drive in this state unaccompanied by anyone.

Amanda moved down the stairs and into the living room on legs that shook with every step that she took. Apparently, Sam was not the only one in a state of shock. Amanda knew from experience that hers would wear off soon, leaving her feeling much stronger than she did at the moment. She could hear Sam gathering up stuff from the top of the stairs and decided to take this time to check out the windows. Red was still barking in his worried tone, and she was sure that there must be some creepers still in the area that would be drawn to them because of the noise. It wasn’t Red’s fault; he was terrified that something had happened to his people and was actively trying to gather their attention, not that of the creepers—but whatever his intent, the results would be the same for them if she couldn’t get back out there soon.

A peek out the front window confirmed what she had suspected. A party of four creepers was slowly making their way down the side path of the house that would lead them to the backyard, where the truck was parked. She took an additional moment to peek up and down the street, but seeing no more of them, she dashed to the side window. From here she could see that two more of them had already slipped past the front and were working their way to the back. Something thumped on the front door, and she knew that another one had come to the front door. Quickly doing the math, she calculated that they were now up against seven of them, and that was terrible odds when you considered the state that both of them were in right now.

Think, Amanda
, she admonished herself as she dashed to the back door and flung it open, already knowing from the tone of Red’s bark that none of the creepers had made it quite that far yet.

“Sam,” Amanda said, seeing the girl standing in the doorway with her arms loaded. “Drop that stuff on the kitchen floor, and come out here quick. I’ll toss you the bat because we’ve got company.”

With no sign of hesitation, Sam did as instructed and dumped her load before stepping out the back door. Amanda had considered having Sam lock herself inside the house while she took care of things, but she never liked splitting their party up like that because there was too much that could go wrong too quickly, and she wanted to stick close to the girl so as to be better able to protect her. Amanda had made a promise to Maryanne, and infected or not, she would get Sam safely back to camp.

Red looked relieved to see both of them, but quickly he alerted to the fact that they had incoming creepers, and he began to issue a low growl in the direction that the creepers would be arriving from.

“What do we do?” Sam asked, wide-eyed and breathless.

“I have an idea,” Amanda said, tossing the bat to Sam, who caught it without a problem. “Shut the backdoor, we don’t need any of them wandering into the house on us, and then follow me.”

BOOK: Amanda Carter in the L.A.Z., life after zombies
4.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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