Into the Badlands (13 page)

“This way!” Ed shouted, pointing toward the highway.

They ran down the front steps and off the front porch, then onto the main walk. They followed a straight line toward the highway, shooting any carriers that got too close. By the time they’d made it through the crowd there were a dozen dead or wounded carriers in their wake.

They continued to run as fast as they could, across the farmland between the house and the highway. Ed looked back and saw three carriers in pursuit. These were healthy and fast.

“Keep going!” he yelled to Trish and the boys, then he stopped short. As instructed Trish and the boys continued to run. Ed dropped to one knee, steadied the pistol with using both hands, then fired off five shots. He brought two of the carriers down, but the third one kept running. Ed squeezed the trigger, and then heard the sickening sound of the firing pin striking an empty chamber.

The clip was empty.

He quickly shoved the gun back into the holster, then pulled the baseball bat from his backpack. He was about to stand up when the carrier leapt toward him. Ed fell to the side, avoiding the carrier's grasp, rolling with the baseball bat in hand. The carrier hit the ground hard, then attempted to rise.

Trish and the boys had stopped running and were waiting for Ed to catch up with them when they saw the attack.

“Dad!” Zach yelled as he ran back toward his father. Trish and Jeremy followed.

Ed regained his footing, just as the carrier had gotten to its hands and knees. He took three steps toward it, then brought the baseball bat down on the back of the thing's head. It dropped to the ground, blood pouring from the wound on its head, its body twitching.

He didn't stop to see if the thing was dead. He turned back toward the highway and ran, catching up with Trish and the boys. He wiped the bat on the grass, then placed it back into the backpack.

“Run,” he told them, looking backward as they make their way away from the farm house and toward the highway. Two carriers were making some progress, but they weren't fast enough to catch up. They could outrun them; he was sure of that.

He turned back toward the road, ensuring the boys and Trish were with him. He located both boys, but Trish was gone. He looked back and saw a body lying on the ground behind them.

Trish had collapsed.

CHAPTER 12

Brenda and Tammy traveled with their new companion along the silent highway. His hands were still bound, but as act of compassion Brenda tied them in front of his body to give him more freedom of movement and make him more comfortable. Dave knew it was also a good faith gesture on Brenda's part and he appreciated that.

Two days had passed since Dave’s memories returned. He spent a fair portion of the first day introverted and sad while randomly crying, and the girls had given him necessary space in which to do so. By the second day he was almost entirely lost in thought while they walked along the barren highway.

As he walked he replayed the events of the shooting again and again in his mind. At first he couldn’t help but blame himself. He felt that there must have been something he could have done differently, some way he could have saved his wife and friend. The thieves had seemed inexperienced, and he was very sure of himself during the standoff. He remembered that much very clearly.

But in the end he had underestimated just how dangerous they really were. By the time he realized this error both his wife and his friend were dead. Had his arrogance killed them or was it simple irresponsibility? He didn't know.

He continued replaying the events again and again, searching for different outcomes, until eventually bitter reality took hold. No matter what
should
have happened, nothing could change what had
actually
happened. It was a cold and harsh reality, but in some strange way he actually took some comfort in it. It was all out of his hands, and had been all along. He was caught up in the shit storm of the virus' aftermath, no different than anyone else.

At the end of the second day the trio set up a camp. The weather wasn’t particularly warm, but it was holding above freezing. They passed a two-story farm house earlier in the day and Dave could have sworn he saw people through the second floor windows. He pointed them out to the girls as they passed and they ushered him along.

The prior night at camp all three had slept under blankets with no fire. Brenda shared a blanket with Tammy, and they gave Dave their extra. Neither of the girls trusted him enough yet to get close to him. They also alternated guard duty amongst themselves only, with part of their guard duty was keeping an eye on their new companion. Given the circumstances Dave found he couldn’t really argue with their logic.

But tonight the three of them sat in a small circle in the dark in the dark, speaking very little. As he sat Dave thought about everything that had happened up to that point; how the girls had saved him, and how they were still keeping him around despite not knowing his background. He thought of Brenda cleaning blood off his face, her not knowing who that blood belonged to. These women had put themselves out for him, risked their lives even. It was his turn to make them understand that they hadn’t made a mistake.

He decided that he couldn’t say withdrawn forever; he had to come forward at some point. He cleared his throat, and the girls turned their attention toward him.

“When the plague hit Sandy and I had just gotten married,” he began. “Sandy was my wife, and she was really a wonderful person.” He stared off into the dark forest. “We weren’t exactly kids when we were married, but we were still pretty young. Maybe too young, but who the hell ever really knows?”

The girls didn't speak, but they watched at him, listening to his story. Tammy lit a cigarette from a crushed pack in her front pocket. She took a deep drag from the cigarette, then blew smoke into the crisp air before handing it to Brenda.

Dave continued. “Anyway, we were pretty happy at first, at least I was, but Sandy never seemed to be able to find that same happiness. She was really depressed, she even saw a few different doctors about it; they medicated her and put her into therapy, which kinda helped. We got by. When the outbreak hit we went right to one of the border towns. We already lived close to the coast, so we made it there without much of a problem. I know now we were lucky.”

Dave stopped for a moment. Revisiting it all was becoming more difficult than he imagined it would be. The death of his wife was still a very fresh wound.

“Go ahead,” Brenda said in the dark.

Dave continued. “The problems for us started afterward, after the virus lingered for so long and life didn’t go back to normal like they all said it would. We lived there in the border town for a while, maybe a year and a half. At first it wasn’t so bad, but then things changed. Our town was taken over from the inside by a...I don’t know exactly what to call him. A con artist maybe? He called himself a preacher, but he wasn’t, at least not like the preachers I grew up with as a kid. He was a crook and and a murderer. He controlled the weak ones through scripture; they were desperate to believe anything. The others he got rid of.

“Sandy and I found ourselves at odds with this guy. I look back now and I can't believe how fuckin' stupid I was. I was crashing town meetings and crying foul. I was right, this asshole was crooked, but I was so naive that I actually thought the board was legit.

“They tolerated me for a while. Then we became friends with this guy we met guy named Jim. He'd wandered in with a group of refugees, and the “reverend” had been after this guy from the day he got there. Once he caught wind that Jim was gay the good reverend figured he’d get us all in one fell swoop; one stone, three birds.”

“What happened after that?” Brenda asked.

“We were framed, all of us, as stupid as that sounds when I say it out loud. Then they kicked us out. They took us right after the bullshit trial to the only gate in the fence that surrounded the town then tossed us out.

“The whole town was there. I told him that if I ever caught up with him again I’d kill him myself. He laughed at me. He was the on the right side of the fence, so he could afford to.”

“Wow,” Brenda commented. “That's fucked up.”

Dave nodded in the dark, although Brenda couldn't see him. “I don’t know if I can explain what that felt like, once the gate closed and we had no protection at all. We didn’t even get a blanket or food. It was a death sentence. I think he enjoyed that aspect of it, the idea of people sacrificed to the deadwalkers. 'Banished to the Badlands', as he liked to call it.

“I watched him walk away, preaching to the cattle about casting out sinners, divine justice, and some other such nonsense. They ate it up, then came back for seconds. There wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

“At first I wished they would have just killed us outright; it would have been more humane. But they didn't, so I just decided I wasn’t going to die. None of us were. So we survived, probably much like the two of you did.”

Tammy nodded in agreement, then took another drag from the cigarette. She blew smoke into the cool, evening air.

Dave continued. “That worked for a year and a half or so. We survived. Sandy became more depressed than ever though, withdrawn and almost child-like in a way. I really got worried about her, but there wasn’t much I could do. Her pills were gone and her depression was really terrible. Every day she just got worse. Some days it was all I could do to get her up and moving. She was just so down. She scared me when she talked about giving up and ending it all, but I couldn’t seem to do anything about her pain.”

He took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled. The acrid smell of the smoke from the cigarette still hung in the air.

“One day we raided a house and picked up some supplies. We were trapped in the basement when a carrier came into the house. I killed it, and then we escaped after killing another one upstairs. We walked for another day or so and then these two guys just came out of nowhere with guns, demanding everything we had on us.”

Dave paused for a moment again, collecting himself. He looked down, staring at the ground. Brenda reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, then removed it.

“It all happened so fast. I pulled a shotgun on them and threatened them. I thought they were just going to run away scared. I was sure of it. I was positive they wouldn’t shoot. I kept telling myself they were just amateurs, that they were all talk.

“They shot Jim first, then Sandy, before I even knew what happened. I remember her covering a her neck, then she dropped like a rock. The blood; there was so goddamn much of it. It was seeping into the ground, disappearing into the dirt even. She bled to death.” Dave put his face in his hands.

“It’s okay,” Brenda whispered. “Go on.”

Dave removed his hands from his face, then looked up. “I guess I sort of blacked out. Maybe I went into shock, I don’t know. All I know is I dumped all my stuff right there and just walked off. I wasn’t thinking straight. I still don't remember what happened after that; it's all just a blur. Then I ran into you guys in that subdivision.”

Dave stared at the ground for almost a full minute. Night had fallen and everything around them drenched in black shadow. He looked toward both girls in the dark, despite not being able to see them clearly. “If you’d left me there I would have died, so this is where I say thanks. Really. I owe you two my life, or what little there is left of it.”

“It was mostly Brenda,” Tammy said. “I was gonna leave you there.”

Dave could feel irritation build. He dismissed it; she had conceded to Brenda's will, after all. “Well, whoever it was, I'm still grateful,” he replied.

“You’re welcome,” Brenda answered.

They traveled for another two days in the same fashion as before. Dave’s hands were tied in front and they camped each night in the woods without a fire. They spoke very little. After telling his story he didn't feel much like talking for a while.

Despite the catharsis of telling his story he still felt pain and guilt. He supposed those things would never fully go away. He was slowly becoming used to a reality without Sandy, despite how recently they’d been separated. He figured that was one of the things that made humans so resilient; the ability to move on after something so tragic. Still, it didn’t seem fair to her.

He thought often about Sandy while they walked. He remembered her in the beginning, when they had first met, how her eyes sparkled and her blonde hair fell in big curls around her thin shoulders. Her pale skin and pink lips, and the smile she always had on her face when she saw him. No wonder he fell in love with her.

But then the depression, followed by the outbreak, combined with day after day of living in Hell took its toll on her. She was already in agony before she died. She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. He knew it all the same. The suffering was unbearable for her. And in his most guilty of thoughts, he wondered if she was better off now.

The way it had happened, that she had suffered after the gunshot; he wished he could change that. Drifting off to eternal blackness while she slept would have been preferable. Unfortunately that had all been out of his hands. She’d gone quickly after being shot though, within a few minutes, for what little consolation that brought. But the look of fear in her eyes as she drew her last breath; that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He missed Jim too. Sandy had been his wife, his true love, but Jim had been a good friend. He didn't talk much, but he was reliable. He was also helpful with Sandy, giving her someone else to talk to other than Dave. Jim was understanding and he wasn’t judgmental. Dave knew this wasn’t always the case with himself. Now Jim was gone too.

Dave's life had been saved by two women he’d never met before. He supposed it was more accurate to say it had been saved by one woman, really. A short little black-haired girl with tattoos and a tougher-than-shit attitude. Saved by a girl who looked more at home in the post-virus wastelands than she probably ever had in the world that came before it.

She seemed tough, but she was also sympathetic. She’d come back for him when there was no requirement to do so. There were no police, no laws, and no witnesses anymore; nothing to force her to do anything. It was a selfless act.

The other woman, Tammy, didn’t seem to appreciate his presence though. He hoped he wasn’t causing a rift between them, but he hadn’t really been given a choice, had he? He was, after all, still their prisoner.

They walked. The wooded areas were becoming more sparse now, turning into farmland. Most of the residential areas were now behind them. The girls continued sharing their food and water with him and he took it willingly. He thanked them and continued walking without protest. For the time being it was an amicable relationship.

Their rations, however, were beginning to run low. To keep going they had to resupply. Dave’s specialty had been raiding houses rather than departments stores and the like, so he felt a bit out of his element in larger buildings. In the end scavenging was scavenging, he supposed. He could easily adapt, depending on what they found.

After another hour or so of walking, a road sign for an exit came into view. There were several convenience stores at this exit, as well as some fast food joints. No large department stores or discount warehouses were present.

“We should get off this exit,” Brenda suggested to Tammy.

She nodded in response. “Sounds good.”

Brenda then turned to Dave. “These smaller-type stores usually offer up slim pickin's, but we really have to stop. We’re gonna need food soon, no matter how little we end up getting there.”