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Authors: Stewart Felkel

Encounters (13 page)

BOOK: Encounters
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“My keys” he yelled while pulling the door behind him.

“What keys” asked Cassie?

“I have the only keys to the school. They stay in my truck. Someone had to have taken them out to get into the school. What the hell?”

“I told you some of them were smart. Have you ever seen them behave like this?”

Tim didn’t reply he just motioned for her to follow him again. They ran through a set of double doors and found themselves in the band room. The music stands were still arranged in semicircles but now covered in dust. Behind the set stood a row of drums waiting for percussionists who would never strike them again. All of this Tim took in on the fly as he searched for a back door out. To the side was a door with an exit sign above it long since gone dead. It was flanked by large shelves dripping with wind instruments. Spotting freedom they dashed for the door. Cassie could feel a stitch in her side and cramps starting in the sides of her legs but she pushed to run faster.

Tim slammed into the door at a full run throwing it open. What he didn't expect was a drop off on the other side. As he fell his knee twisted and he felt a sharp pop when he landed. He couldn't bite back a cry of pain. Cassie saw him fall and stopped herself before she joined him on the ground. She spun to shut the door behind her to try to buy them a little time. She grabbed Tim's arm to help him up but another cry of pain came out as he tried to stand.

His yell must have attracted attention because three zombies came hustling around the corner straight at them. From his knees he raised his rifle but when he pulled the trigger nothing happened. Without hesitating Cassie snatched his rifle and charged the zombies caving in the lead ones skull with the rifle butt. The next one she kicked in the chest sending it sprawling on its back. She stood on its throat as she clubbed the next one in the head. As it fell she dropped to the things chest and dispatched it the same way.

Tim whistled softly as he clambered to his feet. His knee was screaming in agony. It felt hot and already it was beginning to swell. Cassie was breathing heavily as she stood holding his rifle back out to him. He hobbled forward to take it. Without a word she slipped a shoulder under his arm and the two began making their way back to the truck. He felt like he was moving in slow motion after the frantic flight that they had been making.

"I'm just slowing you down. You should leave me."

"What is this, a bad action movie" Cassie grunted out between short breaths. “Just save your breath and move faster you gimpy bastard. We’ve got places to be.”

Tim grunted in pain but otherwise didn’t reply. The two of them shuffled forward as fast as they could like they were in a three legged race with the highest stakes possible. They spotted the truck parked close to the woods with nothing between them and it. Tim tried to push himself even harder. White fire shot up his leg with every step. After what felt like ages they reached the side of the vehicle. He had never been so glad to see the beat up panels of his old Chevy. He leaned over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.

He straightened up and began fishing in his pockets for his keys when he was hit from behind. Stampeded might be the better term. He hit the ground landing on all fours and a fresh wave of pain swept up his leg. He heard Cassie scream in surprise and fear. Jerking his head up, ignoring the pain he saw a large Zombie with long dirty hair grabbing her by the back of the neck. He casually slammed her head into the side of the truck and then again. She fell limply to the ground when he let her go. She moved limply on the ground but couldn’t seem to find her feet. The large zombie turned towards Tim. He was smiling. That scared Tim more than anything else he had seen. He tried to stand but his leg wouldn’t hold him so he ended up scooting backwards awkwardly with hands and one leg.

“So, you’re the bastard who set this little trap up huh?”

The ghoul paused for a second with his gaze lifted up and to the side and then its smile got bigger as it nodded. It advanced again until it was almost on top of Tim. Then it dropped to all fours and began crawling towards him. Tim kept scooting backwards. Every slide was pure torture. He couldn’t get away fast enough however. The thing reached him and paused almost face to face in front of him. He looked into its eyes. They were brown and almost mesmerizing in their intensity. He could smell the stench of a thousand rotten meals coming off of it in a wave.

“There’s one thing you forgot though.”

The thing cocked its head but its smile never changed.

“You forgot to watch for the knife.”

With that he jerked his knife free, reversed it and drove it through the bottom of the things jaw into its brain. It began convulsing and fell on top of him. From all directions came a howling and he began frantically trying to push the corpse off of him. Suddenly Cassie was there helping. She wobbled a little but she was there. Together they freed him and stumbled back to the truck. The howling was growing louder while Tim fished for his keys. There was a desperate moment when he couldn’t find them and then they were in his hand. He shoved Cassie to the passenger side despite her weak protests that she could drive. The engines turned over and he put it in drive. His right leg was swollen and stiff so he was forced to drive with his left. That was awkward at best but judging by Cassie's slurred speech she was in even less shape to drive. He drove slowly trying to weave through the approaching horde of now leaderless zombies. They staggered towards the truck hands grasping to take hold. One actually managed to grab the side mirror and was drug close to a hundred yards before it lost its grip. Soon they were clear of the herd. Without their alpha they seemed slow and dimwitted again. Tim glanced over to check on Cassie.

"How the hell are we going to climb that ladder with my banged up leg and your banged up head?"

Cassie lolled her head towards him and smiled as she gave him a heads up. He snorted out a little laugh and focused on the road. When they reached the cabin Tim parked their truck at the foot of the ladder. He killed the lights but let the engine run as he darted his eyes all around. When he was certain the coast was clear he pulled the keys and swung his door open with a creak. Hobbling to the other side he pulled the passenger door open. Cassie rolled her head towards him and he almost stepped back. Her face had gone gray. One eye was dilated while the other was a pinprick. Her breathing was fast and shallow.

"Cassie, were you bitten?"

She shook her head weakly. He began pulling up her sleeves and pants legs but couldn't find any bites or punctures. He put his shoulder under her arm to help her out but his leg couldn't hold them and they both collapsed.

"Damn. We have to get upstairs. I have antibiotics up there that can help. I just don't know how you got infected."

Cassie mumbled something unintelligible. He leaned in closer as she repeated it.

"Movie theater."

"The movie theater?
But there wasn't anything in the theater to......."

He quit trying to scramble to his feet and looked her in the eyes.
"Oh Cassie. I'm so sorry. How could I be so wrong?"

"Couldn't know.
Somebody had to be a carrier. That’s how viruses work." She began shuddering uncontrollably. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Don't leave me like this. I don't want to be one of those things. Bury me somewhere nice. Somewhere with flowers. I love flowers."

Her shuddering stopped and her eyes froze staring into the distance. Tim gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before disentangling himself. Tears began running down his cheek as he painfully worked his way up the ladder. He hobbled inside for fresh rifle rounds for what he had to do. He grabbed a tarp on the way out and made an equally painful descent.

Rifle in hand he stood over the corpse waiting. His legs were shaking with fatigue and pain. When it finally stirred 45 minutes later he was ready.

"I'm sorry" he said and then pulled the trigger.

Burying her right away was out of the question. He wrapped her in the tarp and wrestled her into the bed of the truck. By the time he was done the first zombies had begun shambling into view drawn by the noise. He made one more tortuous ascent collapsing on the deck. More hot tears came and before he knew it he was sobbing. He lay there for what seemed like hours but must have been minutes before he remembered to pull his ladder up.

Looking over the side he saw one curious zombie testing it. It had its hands on a rung and its head turned up looking at the deck above. He sighed and lifted his rifle to a shoulder slumped with exhaustion. He hung over the edge but his arms wouldn't stop trembling. He rolled over onto the deck and took a deep breath. His rifle fell clattering to the wood planks. He began patting his pockets until he found Cassie's nine millimeter. He drew it, racked the slide and thought how this was more appropriate. He leaned back over the edge to take aim and let out a short yell. The zombie at the bottom had remembered how ladders work. He was halfway up although moving slowly one rung at a time.

Tim extended his arms and whistled sharply. The zombie looked up before his head jerked backwards with the force of the bullet. His body struck the ground with a thump and Tim began pulling the ladder up. When it was curled up safely out of reach he finally went inside. He was forced to crawl his leg was so stiff. He wrapped it in athletic tape and took a handful of aspirin but that was the extent of the first aid he could do at the moment. He lay back on the couch and listened to the zombies outside. Tomorrow he would begin clearing them out. For now he just lay there looking around. He saw the curtain around the tub that had never been there before. He could smell her shampoo. Nothing was going to be the same here. He pulled out her 9mm and began passing it from hand to hand. He turned it over and looked down the barrel. Tears began sliding down his face again. Slow at first but soon in a flood. His breath was sobbing in and out and he realized that he had snot on his face like a child. He rolled to his side and tucked his legs. Sleep eventually overtook him but he didn't know when.

The next day the sun came up like it always did. His eyes popped open and he half expected to hear someone slamming cabinets in the kitchenette. But he was alone.
Again. He staggered outside and was surprised to see the woods surrounding the cabin clear. The swarm must have moved on in the night. He made his way gingerly down the ladder with a shovel and his rifle. It took him hours with his leg to dig the grave but he finally had Cassie lain in her grave. He knelt down beside her and tried to remember the Lord's Prayer. When he had made his way hesitatingly through it he began shoveling the dirt back in place. The climb back up the ladder was slow torture. When he reached the top he slammed the door and didn't come back out until his leg was better.

****

His truck creaked and rattled over the dirt road. Dust billowed up behind it as he bounced along. When he reached the mile marker he was looking for he came to a shrill halt. He popped out of the truck and walked stiffly to where he had placed his flags. He pulled out a pick axe and post hole digger as he rounded the bed of the truck. Setting to work he had a four foot hole about 30 minutes later. Leveraging a twelve foot post, which in a former life had carried telephone wires, into the hole was tricky with a leg still weak but he managed it. When it dropped into place he smiled. He looked at the flags and caution tape that ran in a circle around his little town. One down. About a thousand to go. He began digging the next hole.

 

Author’s foreword:

I love dogs. I didn’t until my wife came along but I’ve grown to love all three of ours dearly. I also have a love of small islands. Don’t ask me why. One of my dreams in life is to own my own island. So, we had a man, a dog and an island. Now all we needed was a monster and we had a story.

I’m going to confess something. The Hunting Trip was originally written from Friday’s perspective. I wanted to see how it would work. Incidentally, it worked ok. But just ok. Then I read J.A.Konrath’s rules. One of which flat out stated to never make an animal the main point of view. I grumbled a little but decided that he knew more than me and rewrote it. The end result? My highest rated story on Amazon.

 

We were on the island for three days before I realized that we weren't alone. Prior to that this “hunting trip” had been everything that I had hoped it would be. I say hunting trip, but truthfully I hadn’t cared if I bagged anything or not. If I were being honest it was an escape; an escape from the well-wishers, the cards with deepest regrets and especially from the cemetery that I passed every day. It took a month to plan the trip but as soon as I stepped out of the boat I felt the weight just fall off. Friday beat me to shore by virtue of jumping out and swimming. Friday was my stray that wandered up to the front stoop as a pup. She is a complete mongrel but came ready stock with floppy ears, a keen nose and a heart of gold.

The
field our tent was set up in was filled with flowers and surrounded by woods. While I drove tent pegs into place Friday prowled and explored her new environment. She was as happy as a dog can be chasing butterflies and Frisbees. The first few days were fantastic. We slept late, played, and explored the island. We even found a little time to hunt. It wasn't until that third night that I felt a twinge of nerves. It was late and I was starting to feel drowsy after eating when Friday sat up from where she was sleeping. She lifted her head and began sniffing the air. Her ears twitched like she heard something and she gave a low warning growl. She started to wander off but I called her back to me. Whatever set her off must have gone away because she padded back and laid her head on my lap. We fell asleep that way until the next morning.

I had mostly forgotten about the incident by the next day. We went down to the river
to fish. Friday of course decided that it was the perfect time for a swim. Needless to say not many fish were caught. The few that I did catch I cleaned and cooked over a fire beside the river. We ate and followed the river for a mile or so before heading back to camp. When I saw our camp I couldn’t help but scream out loud. Friday planted her feet wide with her hackles standing straight up. Our tent was flattened and all of my bags were ripped open. Debris was blown across the field by the wind. I unslung my rifle from my shoulder and shushed Friday before creeping warily up to our camp. Friday seemed to recognize a scent and began circling with her head down tracking it. I could smell it faintly as well. It was sharp and sour like pungent cheese mixed with rot. Friday was reluctant to give up the scent when I called her back. Whatever it was that destroyed our camp was still close. I could feel its eyes on us and I knew it was a danger to us, but I wanted to meet it on our terms not give it a chance to ambush us. Friday was restless and whined while I set the tent back up. When that was done I gathered together what was left of our belongings and lit a large fire.

I had just calmed down enough to try to sleep when the cry awoke me completely. It was a warbling
scream that rose in pitch before falling again as it trailed off. Friday started growling low in her throat with building intensity, but my hand on my on her back stopped the barked challenge that she wanted to issue.

"Easy
girl" I said to her while stroking her fur. "Easy Friday, we'll track it tomorrow."

The cry came again a few minutes later from the other side of our camp, just inside the woods around us. There was also the sound
of breaking limbs. I could feel the adrenaline dump hit my system and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I kept one hand on my rifle even as I tried to soothe Friday. Eventually the cries went away and we both dozed until the sun came up.

As soon as there was light enough to calm our nerves we were off to hunt this thing that had invaded our camp. The trail wasn't as fresh as I
would have liked, but it was just clear enough for us to follow. Nose to ground Friday went along as fast as she could with me trailing right behind her. We tracked for hours before she looked up at a thicket of trees. My legs ached and my chest was heaving. Sweat covered my back but I went cold when I saw where she was pointing. It was so dense that it seemed to be covered in shadows that repelled the daylight. It sat close to a small cliff overlooking the river. We could smell that smell again. It was so thick in the air it almost choked me. I knew that it was here watching us, waiting for us to make a move. Friday spread her legs again ready to fight. This time when the growl came I didn’t try to stop her. She gave voice to a single barked challenge. We were answered by that same warbling cry. My rifle was at my shoulder before I made a conscious decision to bring it up. And then the creature came shambling out of its den.

It
was tall and lean with dark hairless skin. Its arms hung to its knees and its fingers had sharp claws at the ends of them. It spreads its arms wide and cried out again before charging us. I got set to meet its rush and fired a round. The shot cracked the air and I saw its shoulder jerk back from the hit but it didn't go down. I worked the lever and fired twice more, but the thing didn’t slow until it was on us. Friday, ever the loyal protector threw herself at it to try to bring it down before it reached me. She hit it in the back of the leg and they tumbled to the ground. Her jaws were immediately snapping at its throat, but with a rake of its claws to her side she fell away yelping in agony. I could see blood streaming down her side. Then the thing was back up and sprinting towards me. Its arms were outstretched reaching for me. I flung myself to the side to dodge its strike. I wasn’t scared anymore. I was furious. This damned thing had attacked us, hurt my best friend and I was determined to make it pay. I came back to my feet and swung my rifle by the barrel like a bat at its head connecting with the butt. It fell back a step staggering and crying in pain. I pulled out my hunting knife and launched myself at it. We fell down in a tangle of limbs with me stabbing it repeatedly in the chest. Now it was bleeding but the damn thing was just too strong. It threw me off and when I landed on my side I felt a rib snap. The pain was instant and intense. I inhaled sharply and felt the sharp pain intensify. It lumbered to its feet to pounce on me again. But then there was Friday again snapping at its legs and hamstringing it. Its blood got on her muzzle and she whimpered as if it burned. She refused to let go though, hanging on she shook her head tearing further until it batted her off. Pinning her to the ground it raised its clawed hand for the killing stroke.

"Friday" I
yelled in fear.

I pushed myself up on unsteady legs and charged it.
Without thinking I tackled the thing again with enough force to fracture another abused rib. I began driving it towards the cliff. We were locked body to body slashing at each other, it with its claws and me with my knife. And then I felt empty space beneath us and we fell.

***

Friday whined and whimpered as she got to her feet. Her front leg hurt and blood was still flowing down her side. Worse, she was alone. Limping to the edge of the cliff she laid down to wait. She waited there until the sun started to go down whining for her master. Then a hand reached over the top.

BOOK: Encounters
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