Into the Badlands (23 page)

Suddenly Tammy stood up, slung the rifle over her shoulder, then walked toward Brenda's lifeless body. Dave considered stopping her then decided against it; if Tammy wanted to draw the fire of any other shooters then that was her choice. She would do what she wanted to do.

Tammy made it to Brenda's body; there were no additional shots fired. She knelt down beside it, placing her hand on her friend's back. Her feet made sloshing sounds as she stepped onto the blood-soaked ground. The exit wound on the right side of her head was vicious and severe, forcing Tammy to look away.

Ed and Dave joined her while Trish kept the boys at a safe distance. The shooter was dead; if he had any accomplices they were nowhere to be seen. Tammy looked up at them; tears welling in the corners of her eyes, unable to speak. She opened her mouth and searched for the words, but none came. Ed and Dave could think of nothing appropriate to say. Eventually Ed placed a hand on Tammy's shoulder, then tapped Dave on the arm to get his attention. After motioning that he follow, Ed walked back to where Trish and the boys still hid.

“Dave, I'm sorry about Brenda,” Ed said. “I could tell she was important to you.”

Dave nodded.

Ed continued. “I don't want to sound cold, but we need to keep our heads right now. Are you still with me?”

“I'm with you, Ed,” Dave responded, nodding his head. Though shocked by Brenda's death, he was still engaged. “Water, right?” he asked.

“Exactly. We still need to make that happen, despite all this.”

“I understand. I'll go search for a pump.” With that Dave walked to where Tammy still knelt, picked up Brenda's gun, then placed a hand on Tammy's shoulder. She brushed it off, as he expected she would. He then left her side and walked toward the back of the house in search of water.

Ed watched the interaction between Tammy and Dave. She was upset, he knew, but he would need to keep an eye on her all the same. He didn't need anyone checking out. They had to remain focused, otherwise they were apt to make mistakes, possibly mistakes that could get them all killed, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Dave seemed to be keeping it together though, so that was some relief.

He hadn't had much time to get to know Brenda, aside from a few conversations along the road and some after dinner stories back at Mitchell's. She seemed to have been a straight-shooter. What happened was a damn shame. What a fucking world.

Ed refocused: Trish and the boys were fine, Dave was searching for a well, and Tammy was seeing to her dead. There wasn't much else to do until Dave returned. He wasn't about to leave Trish and the boys alone, he didn't completely trust Tammy's mental state and the chance of attack always loomed.

Dave returned shortly, placing Brenda's gun in his pocket. He glanced over at Tammy before addressing Ed. “I didn't see anything that looked like a well,” he stated succinctly.

“Shit. All this for nothing,” Ed replied, exasperated. He thought; maybe there was still running water in the house. It was a possibility, especially if the house was using well water. There might not be a pump around back, but the house's water supply might be using one. Entering the house was dangerous, but they were already in danger of severe dehydration.

“Maybe there's running water inside the house,” he said to Dave. “If we could-”

Suddenly Ed's heard a scream from behind him. His stomach dropped as he realized it was the sound of his own child. He turned to see a carrier on top of Zach, clawing and biting at his throat. Trish screamed, taken off guard by the silently approaching deadwalker. Jeremy stood, wide-eyed in disbelief.

Ed ran toward them, then kicked the carrier in the head as hard as possible. The thing rolled away, then slowly got to its feet. It readied itself to charge. Ed's pistol was still on his side; he hadn't had time to draw it before attacking the carrier. It leapt forward with surprising speed. Ed reached for his gun as quickly as he could, but the thing was fast. In his heart he knew he was too slow.

Then suddenly sharp crack of a pistol rang out and the thing dropped to the ground in a heap. Ed looked around to see Mitchell running up the road toward the group, gun in hand.

“Move your asses! They're swarming!” he yelled.

Ed picked up Zach and slung him over his shoulder. He then grabbed Jeremy by the hand and they ran back toward the highway. Trish followed close behind. He didn't stop to see if the others followed.

Dave watched the whole scene play out in front of him, all of it happening so fast he barely had time to react before hearing the sound of a carrier screaming from behind him. He turned quickly, pulling Brenda's gun, then froze. A female carrier, still wearing the filthy and paltry remains of a t-shirt and sweatpants, charged at him.

He tried to move his hand to fire the gun, but the thought of the events in the 7-Eleven took hold. He finally raised the gun, but found he couldn't pull the trigger. In his head he heard the sound of the young carrier's voice again, calling out for her mommy. He stood there as the the thing charged, screaming, its arm hanging paralyzed. His mouth was dry, his head pounded from dehydration, and his thoughts were racing too fast to follow. He felt sickening panic building up within him, overtaking him as the the thing gained on him.

Then a shot rang out from behind him, and the deadwalker dropped to the ground with a violent thud. He turned back to see Mitchell with his gun raised, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Mitchell yelled. He looked around. “Where's Brenda and Tammy?” he asked. Dave pointed to the where Brenda lay dead on the ground. “Oh, man,” Mitchell replied. Tammy was standing now, halfway between the group and the body. She kept looking back and forth between the two.

“Tammy!” Mitchell yelled. Her head snapped to attention, her focus now on Mitchell's voice. “We have to leave her.”

“I can't. I won't,” she replied sharply.

“There's no other choice,” he said, somberly.

Tammy looked back toward her dead friend once more, hesitating. She paused for a moment, considering her options, then ran toward Mitchell and Dave.

“Come on, girl,” Mitchell said to her once she reached he and Dave. She looked at him with overwhelming sadness exuding from her red and watery eyes. He touched her shoulder. “Let's go,” he said.

More carriers approached from the overgrown field surrounding the house. Mitchell fired quickly and cleanly, taking each one down with a near-perfect shot to the head or the chest. The remainder of the group then ran back down the highway and away from the gruesome scene behind them.

Ed ran, almost in a frenzy, with his oldest son over his shoulder and his youngest son's hand in his own. He heard five more shots ring out behind him, fired closely together, but they barely registered. Panic was taking hold of him. Jeremy kept up as best as he could, but Ed was nearly dragging him. He could only think of what he'd seen back there, the sight of the carrier on top of his oldest son. It happened so fast, Ed hadn't even heard the thing approach. He hadn't been paying attention; he was too busy dealing with the shit storm they'd gotten themselves into.

They ran until they reached the road, then Ed heard more gunfire behind him. He ran, feeling the air flow in and out of his burning lungs, his head spinning. He had to get to safety, then he could check on Zach. He barely noticed the sound of Trish running behind them. Dave, Mitchell, and Tammy didn't even register in his overwhelmed mind.

After what seemed like an eternal run they reached the road and stopped. He let go of Jeremy's hand, then slowly lowered Zach to the ground. A glance behind showed him Dave and Tammy were following, along with Mitchell. No carriers followed them. There would be more though, no doubt.

Zach's hand was covering his neck. Beneath his son's small fingers he saw blood dripping slowly He lifted the boy's hand from his neck, and then Ed's entire mind and body went numb with white-hot, paralyzing shock.

Zach had been bitten by the carrier.

CHAPTER 17

Ed carried Zach piggyback for miles, not allowing the boy to walk at all. Jeremy walked alongside them, his face red from crying. Ed was completely overcome with shock; his world spun madly around him as he struggled unsuccessfully to comprehend the reality of what had just happened to his son. No amount of preparation or forethought could prepare him for the nightmare in which he was trapped.

Dave, however, was gripped with awareness and clarity. He knew they had to get somewhere safer, out of the open, and then figure out what to do next. Seeing Ed so completely overwhelmed and checked out he took over, directing the group and allowing Ed to focus on his children.

They walked for several more miles, eventually setting up camp on Dave's direction inside a wooded area just off the highway. Ed ventured off with the boys another twenty yards away from the rest of the group and then set up his own camp. At the time he wasn't thinking about spreading the virus; he just needed to be alone with his boys.

Dave immediately set out to find water. A fifteen minute search deeper into the woods proved out with the discovery of a small, trickling stream. It wasn't much, but it was at least moving. Dave was able to siphon off enough water to fill up the three canteens he carried.

Upon his return he handed two of the canteens to Ed. Ed took them without saying anything. “There's one for Zach and one for you and Jeremy,” Dave told him. Ed looked at him slightly confused, then nodded as understanding took hold. Dave nodded in return.

Dave felt it almost callous, but they couldn't chance spreading the virus. He walked way without saying anything. There was nothing left to say anyway.

Ed handed Zach the canteen. The boy drank from it, then lay down on his side upon the forest floor. Ed cleaned his son's neck wound, then helped him into his sleeping bag. The wound wasn't deep, but it was deep enough. The skin had been penetrated by the carrier's teeth, the flesh torn off in one place. There could be little doubt that the virus had an unimpeded path into the boy's bloodstream.

And that could have only one outcome.

Jeremy sat against a tree, watching his father care for his brother. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Not anymore. He had cried so much already he was now completely spent. He just stared ahead, watching his father clean the wound and tousle his brother's hair. Just trying to make him comfortable until the end came.

The wound was nasty, but not fatal. Even Jeremy knew this. The virus, however, would be. Not directly, but he knew that his father would have only one choice available. He couldn't allow Zach to turn, so he would have to do what he did to their mother after she got sick.

What was worse is that he knew his brother was aware of this too. The thought of it all brought more tears where Jeremy had felt there were none left.

Trish watched Ed and the boys from a distance. She sat along with the others in their makeshift camp, sick to death with sadness and overwhelming grief. She knew how much the boys meant to Ed and how hard he'd tried to always protect them. They were his babies. Zach was such a wonderful kid too. What happened was nothing short of devastating.

She knew Ed must be blaming himself. She knew because she did too. She replayed the events again and again in her head as she sat, trying to determine if there had been something she could have done differently, but the thing had been so quiet no one heard it approach. In her rational mind she knew it wasn't her fault, but that didn't change how terrible she felt.

She continued watching Ed and boys until she felt a tear stream down her cheek. She turned away, closing her eyes. Mitchell walked over, then sat on the ground beside Trish, across from Tammy. All were somber and quiet. Dave was gone, fetching more water from the stream he'd found earlier. They sat this way from some time, unsure of what to say or do next.

Mitchell then spoke softly. “I had a daughter once,” he mused. “This is the worst thing he'll ever go through.”

Trish began to cry. She leaned over to him, placing her head on his shoulder. He held her, patting her back as she sobbed. Tammy was lost in her own thoughts. She had already suffered such a significant loss that day; taking on another tragedy so soon was proving too much for her to handle.

Dave eventually reappeared with the rest of their canteens, all now full of water from the stream. He saw Ed cleaning his son's mortal wound, and Trish sobbing into Mitchell's shoulder. Tammy was completely gone.

How did things get so fucked up so fast?
he thought to himself.

He had no answer.

Ed awoke flanked by both of his sleeping boys. At first he was disoriented, as often happened to him right after awakening. They always rotated sleeping, so how had they come to all fall asleep at the same time? It was then the memory returned; hard, cold and unflinching.

The bite from the carrier.

His son was going to die.

His eyes filled with tears, the full realization drenching him in a horrible, unjust reality. He attempted to subdue it, trying not to wake the boys. They couldn't see him this way, especially Zach. Their time was so short now; they had to remain strong and get all they could from it. Just as he had done when Sarah got sick.

He couldn't help but feel that he had failed Zach. He was supposed to protect him, to keep him out of harm's way. Now the virus was incubating in his son's body, dividing and growing as he slept, and would soon override everything that had made Zach who he had been. It was the worst thing about the virus; rather than kill outright it stole one's humanity first, leaving the animated corpse to walk about and repeat the cycle.

Zach would soon become a raving lunatic, bent on killing and eating them all, even his own father and brother. The thing he would turn into would be nothing more than an animal masquerading as his son, devastating his body and corrupting his brain. It would then be Ed's responsibility to end his suffering, just as he had for his mother.

He sat up, being careful not to disturb the children. They rustled a bit in their sleep, but they didn't wake. He had told his son a lie; he told him it was just a scratch and they couldn't be sure he'd contracted the virus. Zach had accepted his lie, but whether or not the boy actually believed it Ed didn't know for sure. He had his suspicions though. Once the virus took hold and started to change him the fantasy would collapse under its own weight. There could be no more lies then. They would bide their time together, but the sand would eventually run out of the hourglass.

And when the last grain had fallen through, Ed would have to put him down.

He wouldn't do it tonight though; there were too many things left to say. They still had some time remaining, possibly a couple days, and they were going to make the most of it. Then, when the time came, he'd do it while the boy slept.

Just as he had with Sarah.

The following morning they all awoke around daybreak. Ed stayed with his sons, still positioned away from the group. Everyone gave them their space. Trish offered them some food and they took it, thanking her. She then left them alone, weeping silently as she walked back to the others. Mitchell placed his hands atop Trish's when she returned. She was too sad to respond, or to even look at him. They stayed this way for a while.

Eventually her tears dried up and she regained her composure. He released her hand and she took a seat on the ground next to him.

“I brought coffee,” he told them, and they chuckled at his attempt at mild humor. All except Tammy who sat expressionless, staring blankly into the dense forest. Mitchell noticed, but said nothing about it. He figured she had a lot of her own mourning to do.

He heated up some water, then prepared coffee everyone but Tammy, who refused. He sat back down with his cup of hot coffee. He took a sip, blew on the steaming liquid, then looked thoughtfully at Tammy.

“I'm sorry about Brenda,” he said. “She seemed like a great girl.”

Tammy turned to him, nodded, and then replied. “She was.”

“Daddy, will I see Mommy again soon?” Zach asked.

Ed felt his heart sink. After so much sorrow he thought he could feel no more. That apparently wasn't true; sorrow showed no kind regard to limitation.

“Don't talk like that,” Ed told him. “We don't know anything for sure yet.”

“Will I, Daddy?” Zach repeated. “Tell me the truth.”

He looked at his son lying in the sleeping bag, the spitting image of his mother. His face was honest; afraid but unflinching. The boy's strength was immeasurable and it made Ed feel ashamed. Lies held no water and contained no merit with him. Brutal honesty was all they had left now that everything else had truly been stripped away. They were all emotionally raw and naked, completely exposed to one another as never before.

“If Heaven's real, then you definitely will,” Ed told him.

Zach smiled. If Ed could have switched places with him he wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. The universe, however, was horribly indifferent. Nothing at all was ever fair.

Tammy sat, staring into the distance. She had no appetite, and no desire for water despite her pounding headache. Her world was in upheaval.
What will I do now
? she wondered to herself. Her best friend was gone, the only person who ever really understood her, killed in a second by maniac with a gun. Pointless, all of it. She felt numb and distant; completely dead inside. The world had turned so ugly and horrible after the virus; now it was even worse.

Then, on top of it all, the boy was infected. The virus knew nothing of compassionate discrimination. An innocent child robbed not once, but twice. Robbed of his mother, and now robbed of his own life.

She was an outsider in this group, just as she'd been an outsider in the world before the virus. Maybe she hadn't given Dave a chance; maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all. But the way Brenda had sidled up to him, leaving her best friend behind to tow the line, made it feel as if Brenda had been taken away from her twice. Why did she feel so badly about a person who would ignore her best friend?

It was all just so hopeless, so pointless, and so brutally painful. And ultimately so fucking meaningless.

Suppose they did reach this so-called “safe” city? Suppose it was virus-free? Suppose she could live there for the rest of her life? What did it change? She was still an outcast, even among the few survivors left. What could possibly change that?

Nothing, really.

Nothing at all.

That evening Ed remained with Zach and Jeremy. It had been almost twenty four hours since Zach had been infected. Ed knew, as they all did, that he had at the most not even a day left. The virus was fast, too fast. Nobody made it past forty-eight hours before showing symptoms.

Ed and the boys talked. They didn't mention the virus anymore; it was pointless. The spoke of the good old days, the days when they'd all been a family. The days when their mother was still alive, before the world as they knew it had ended. Trips to the art museum, grocery shopping, the zoo, the first day of school, birthdays, Halloween, and Christmas. All the things that made up their lives together, the strands of experience that connected them so much closer than genetics ever could.

Ed continued to check the wound periodically; it seemed no worse than the prior day. He could see no excessive swelling or discharge, nothing to indicate bacterial infection. But the viral infection had no doubt found its way in all the same, he knew. It would only be a matter of a day or less and the signs would start to show.

It started with fever. It got much, much worse from there.

They napped sporadically. Ed held his son most of the day, as if their closeness would allow him to absorb the essence of his boy. He care nothing of infection anymore; what would be, would be. Jeremy sat with them, acting brave. He watched his father and emulated him. The thought of losing his brother, with whom he'd spent so much time and relied so heavily upon, was devastating.

There was no guard duty for them. They didn't watch for carriers. Ed didn't care anymore; the virus had won. If its minions showed up to deliver it to the rest of his family then so be it. It was a fitting end.

Later that night Ed awoke again, surrounded by his sons. He lifted his head to look around and saw Dave on guard duty, staring into the woods. The rest of the group lay on the ground, asleep.

Ed looked at his two sons in the dim moonlight; two beautiful, broken creatures. They'd suffered enough, hadn't they? Hadn't they all? And where was their relief, their blessings from on high? Nowhere to be seen. They were on their own, and only Ed could bring an end to that suffering.

He reached down and removed his pistol from the holster. He would make it quick; Zach would never know it was coming. He would handle Jeremy's grief after it was done. How, exactly, he would do that he didn't know. It was a bridge to cross later. Ed wasn't sure his younger son would ever be the same again.

He moved slowly so as to not wake the children. He placed the barrel of the pistol near Zach's temple. The chamber was loaded; all it would take was a squeeze of the trigger. He flipped the safety off and placed his finger carefully on the trigger. One squeeze, one trivial little movement, and his son's suffering would never occur. He would go quickly and painlessly, without knowing the hell his mother had known before she died.