Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1) (27 page)

Backing slowly away from the stairs Beth found the wall.  She stood in the corner of the hall with her back firmly against the plaster, gun at the ready.  Nervously she kept watch, eyes darting from the other doors to the stairs and then back to the doors.  Wooden floorboards creaked.  Her ears detected the labored climbing on the stairs.  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.  Closer and closer the footfalls came.  With each slow step Beth’s anxiety grew.  After an eternity of watching, Matt’s bandaged head appeared at the top of the stairs followed by Gillian helping a badly limping Bill.

Lowering her weapon, she exhaled in great relief.  Beth hurried forward to help them into the apartment.  As soon as they made it through the door Bill collapsed on the couch breathing as if the climb had cost him his last bit of strength.  Matt altered between very pale and tinged with green.  He crumpled into a chair as soon as he could.  He put his head between his knees and started taking deep breaths.   

Beth eased slowly away from Matt, concerned that he was about to be sick.  She was just getting ready to see if the others needed help when Stancy and Trevor came in.   Stancy pushed past Beth with an irritated grunt.  With the couch and chair were already occupied she was left with only one of the hard kitchen chairs.  She made her displeasure known.  Everyone ignored her. 

“The guys will be here in a second, they are hiding the truck.”  Trevor explained to Beth who was looking expectantly into the hall. 

“Hiding?” Beth questioned. 

“Yeah, the kid fell down and yelled, attracting a few of those…Things.”  Stancy grunted.

“He moaned…slightly.”  Gillian explained, patting Matt on the shoulder.  This had the effect of making Matt hold up a hand and close his eyes tightly.  The slight movement made his stomach go on a roller coaster ride.  He had to lean forward again willing himself not to throw up. 

“Should I go help them?”  Beth made a movement toward the door.

“Relax Commando Barbie, I’m sure the
Men
can take care of themselves.”  Stancy said over her shoulder as she sneered at the apartment.  “How can people live like this?”  She asked wiping hand over a dusty cupboard. 

Anger rose up in Beth.  The snide comments followed by the pretentious attitude made Beth want to slap the older woman.  Beth’s hand flew up behind Stancy a string of insults and obscenities forming and tumbling over themselves in her mind.  Gillian saw the fuse heading into the powder keg and moved to diffuse the explosion, raising her own hands up defensively. 

“Well the dead kept moving, looks like we are alo….What’s going on?”  Hector’s smile slipped off his face as he entered the apartment. 

Stancy turned to the soldier and spied Beth and Gillian’s posture.  Her eyebrows rose.  “What do you think you…”

“ENOUGH!  I HAVE HAD ENOUGH!”  Max shouted and slammed the butt of his rifle against the floor. 

Hector immediately shushed him.  Matt had fallen from the chair in shock and was now a disturbing shade of green.  Gillian quickly moved to his side.  Beth immediately retreated; the look in Max’s eyes was one she did not want to trifle with.  Bill looked anxious, Trevor was downright scared.

Max’s attention was fixed on Stancy.  Hector moved slowly behind the cop, he was tense and ready.  Beth sucked in a breath and cringed as Stancy defiantly threw out hip, put her hand on it and opened her mouth.

In a deadly calm voice Max spoke, “Don’t,”  he unclipped the clasp on his holster, “Say”  He slowly drew his side arm, “One,” he pulled back the hammer,  ”Fucking,”  he aimed the weapon and Stancy.  “Word.”  The pompous sneer died on her face, her arm fell loosely at her side.  She took a staggering step backward.  Hector stood behind Max readying to grab his arm.  Beth could see the fight coming and the outcome looked bad. 

“Hey hey its all good,  no problems everything is cool.”  Beth made to laugh and moved between Max and Stancy.  “There is no problem here.  Our only problem is outside, you know bad zombies and all.” 

Max’s hand shook, the fire left his glare.  He shook his head slightly and lowered his weapon.  “Don’t test me woman.”  He grumbled.

Beth knew she wasn’t the “woman” he was speaking of.  Behind her she heard Stancy mumble.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Oh shut up already.  You’re lucky she didn’t let him shoot you.”  Gillian hissed. 

Hector put an arm around Max and led him to the apartment door.  He looked back at Beth for a moment.  The look he gave was full of thanks and concern. 

It was several minutes before Max and Hector returned to the apartment.  In that time Gillian had taken Bill and Matt in to the single bedroom and made them both lay down.  Matt lay on his side still looking as if he might be ill.  Bill lay on his back with his injured leg elevated on a couple of pillows. 

While Gillian was helping the injured, Beth and Trevor were taking stock of the kitchen.  The former occupants had been more interested in their possessions than thinking of survival it seemed.  The fridge and cupboards were still relatively stocked.  They had some fruit, bread, lunchmeat and various canned items. 

“We should be good for a few days.”  Beth smiled as Hector and Max returned. 

Stancy was seated at the kitchen table and turned her back on Max as he walked in the room.  The look in his eye was murderous. 

“Hey Max, want an apple?”  Beth held up a shiny red apple.

“Yeah, sure.”  Max replied distractedly, never taking his eyes off Stancy.   

“Wow, you really had a bad time of it didn’t you?”  Steve asked the magnified view of the zombie through the scope on the hunting rifle.  Its walk was a nothing more than a slow limping shuffle.  The knee of one pant leg was torn and black with dried blood, the foot at the bottom was turned sideways.  A trail of thick blood, tissue, and shoe pieces led back into the alley.  One arm hung lower than the other.  It swung as if the only thing holding it in was the torn sleeve of the jacket it was in.  As Steve looked over the top of the scope the arm fell free.  The sight made Steve laugh, he admonished himself immediately.  “Damn it Steve that used to be somebody.”  The zombie didn’t even pause or look down at the lost limb. 

Steve returned to the magnified view.  Half of the creature’s scalp flopped on the side of its head, the ear bouncing off the ghoul’s shoulder.  “Did someone take a machete to you?”  Steve pulled the bolt back on the rifle, locked a round into the chamber and took a deep breath.  He moved the cross hairs to the thing’s forehead.  His finger twitched on the trigger.    

The dead eyes looked up as Steve looked down.  Steve paused.  The thing seemed to be looking right at him.  It stopped shuffling and stared.  Steve studied the face, was it sadness, remorse?  “Aw Crap!”  Steve hissed as the zombie’s teeth barred and its head leaned back. 

The rifle report cracked loud in the tower.  Steve knew this could lead others to the area but convinced himself that it was ok.  Thinking it over the decided the height he was at mixed with the sound bouncing off the buildings would make it hard for them to find the place.  The howl from the zombie would have brought them straight here.  Still the feeling in the pit of his stomach nagged at him that he just made a mistake.     

Every time one of those creatures let out that moan, several more would arrive.  If they shot one, then only one or two would show up…eventually.  This is what Steve told himself.  “I don’t care how bad you had it.  You aren’t going to bring your friends to the party.” He said the corpse.  It lay in the street, the top of its head completely missing now, torn away by Steve’s bullet.  “Sorry Dude.”

“Nice shot, Steve.” Came a voice from behind causing Steve to jump.   Turning quickly he lowered his weapon.  He swallowed trying to calm his pounding heart.   Relaxing slightly he recognized the woman. 

“Uh thanks Mrs. Johnson.” He replied sheepishly.  He was embarrassed about the conversation he had been having with the former undead corpse.  He hoped she had not heard him.   

“You still see them as people, don’t you?”  She asked looking over the railing to the street below. 

“Drat,” He though, she had.  The road in front of the church and even the side roads leading to it now contained several corpses.  Some of these lay over each other some just long figures rotting in the street.  Most of them put down by either Steve or Wes. 

Steve shrugged, “Yeah, kinda.  I mean they didn’t choose to be the way they are now.  Ya know.” 

“No I don’t guess they didn’t.” Sarah sighed.  “But I don’t think there is anything left of them.   Anything that was human anyway.”  Her face grew dark, “I’ve seen them claw over each other to get at a child.” 

“I saw that for an IPod or new phone when they were alive.”  Steve replied bitterly.  

“Maybe, but when they got to the IPod they didn’t rip it apart and try to eat it did they?”

“Not sure, maybe a few of them.”  Steve tried to joke.  He turned away from Sarah and stared out of the bell tower.  He could see the road below but he really wasn’t looking at it. 

“I’m sorry Steve, I know it bothers you…”

“Yeah it does,” Steve interrupted, “But you know what bothers me more?”  Sarah stood quietly waiting.  Years as a teacher had taught her when someone just wanted to talk and not have her help solve the problem. 

“It’s Wes.  I’ve known that guy since he was like five years old.  He’s been through some pretty bad stuff ya know.”  Once Steve started talking he couldn’t seem to stop.  Sarah just stood listening and encouraging when needed.

“Even through all the crap he has been a nice guy.  He has always been there for Beth, hell all he wants to do is go find her.”  Steve looked down at his hands.  “He still thinks there is hope she is ok.  The thing is…this isn’t easy for him.  I mean it isn’t easy for any of us but he takes this hard.  It seems like every time the undead show up for him to put down.”  Steve took a deep breath.  “it seems like they are always kids.  Why is it that he always has to kill the kids?”  Steve rubbed his eyes.  “It isn’t fair, I mean of course none of this is fair.  The thing is every time I have take down an adult one, I feel like I am less of who I used to be.”  He turned back to the road.  “I wonder if Beth will recognize us if…I mean when, we find her.” 

Sarah waited.  When Steve did not continue she took her cue.  “Is that why you talk to them?  You think you are losing your humanity?  You think Wes is losing his?”  She turned Steve to look at her.  “Listen.  There are things that we have to do now that we never thought we would.  I’m not saying we can’t feel, we just can’t dwell.” 

Steve shrugged his reply.  A low moan reached the tower, carried on the musty wind.  Steve scanned the area for movement.  A cat darted out from behind some debris.  Steve followed its movements, then checked the opposite direction from where the frightened animal ran. 

There she was.  An older woman in a pale green house coat was shuffling into view on torn and dirty slippers.  “Oh man, she is carrying an arm.  Oh that just isn’t right.”  Steve groaned.

“Looks like someone gave her a hand.”  Sarah noted.  Silence rang loudly between them.  Steve stared at his old teacher.  She stared back, shock on her face from what she had just said.  Fighting it until it hurt, Steve burst out laughing.  Sarah joined in and they couldn’t stop for several seconds. 

Wiping tears from his eyes Steve shook his head at his old instructor.  “That was wrong on so many levels.”

“I know and I’m sorry,”  Sarah replied trying to keep from giggling, “sometimes it’s either laugh or go crazy.”  They stood in easy silence for a moment until Steve began to aim his rifle at the approaching zombie.  Sarah placed a hand on Steve’s arm, “I’ll get this one.  You go down and check on Wes.  He seemed rather anxious when I passed by.  I think you should try to embrace his hope.”

Steve looked up from the scope, “What do you mean.” 

“I’ve seen a lot of young people go through my classrooms over the years.”  Sarah took over the shooter position.  “Sometime you just know.”   She took the rifle from Steve, checked the safety and the chamber.  Steve stood waiting for her to finish.  As she took aim, he was reminded of her actions in the park, and wondered how she did it.  He had always seen her as a very kind and caring instructor. 

“Desperate times,” he thought.  He jumped when the shot rang out.  The shuffling dead woman dropped the severed arm.  Her crumpled body joined it on the ground. 

“Those two.”  Sarah said, bring Steve back to the conversation as if nothing had happened.  “Beth and Wes, you could tell.  There was always something more between them.”  Sarah ran the bolt through its paces loading anther shell.   

“What do you mean?”  Steve asked. 

“I mean they have been a couple forever they just didn’t know it.”  She turned smiling, with that knowing look he remembered.  It was the smile that encouraged him.  It said you know the answer, when he had a tough question.   

Steve smiled back and then frowned.  He shook his head, “They figured it out, right before all of this.  Better late than never I guess.  I just hope it wasn’t a little too late.”  

Sarah smiled and re-assured him, “She’ll recognize both of you.  If I remember her correctly…She is kicking zombie ass somewhere and is wondering the same of the two of you.” 

“Thanks.”  Steve smiled.  “You know,” he said opening the hatch to the ladder, “If I knew you were such a bad ass, I don’t think I would have acted up so much in class.”   

“Get out of here!”  Sarah laughed shaking her head and taking up the vigil in the tower.  Steve returned to the lower levels.  He was thinking of Beth and almost laughed as visions of her kung fu fighting zombies played out in his head.  The smile evaporated from his face the moment he walked into the church and came face to face with Wes.

“How much longer are we going to hang out here?”  Wes demanded. 

“Listen, maybe a little while longer.  There seems to be more of those things moving around today.”

The look Wes gave Steve told him this was not welcome news.  Looking over Wes’ shoulder Steve could see their belongings were packed and ready to go.  “I’ve been thinking about it,” Wes regained Steve’s attention, “and I think Beth would go to the distribution center looking for you.  That is where we should start looking.”  He looked into Steve’s eyes expectantly. 

Steve’s shoulders slumped.  He knew Wes wanted to start looking for Beth and a way out of town.  He had made it clear that he thought staying in the downtown area was a bad idea.  Steve had countered with the fact that no one actually lived downtown prior to the dead rising so it seemed safe enough to him.  Steve also wanted to find Beth but he also feared finding her dead or not finding her at all. 

“We are going to find her,”  Wes stated as if he were reading Steve’s mind, “we’ll try the distribution center first, then your house, then mine, then school…the library…You know all the places she would go.” 

“Alright, but not today.  We need a plan, a better plan than go here then here.  Let’s go about this logically.  Let’s pick the most likely places then we’ll figure out a way to get there and get back if we have to.   I don’t think we’ll easily get around, search the place, and be safe for a night.  We know this place is safe so let’s use it as a base.”  Steve suggested.

Wes looked as if he wanted to argue but sat down and took out a notebook from his pack.  “Alright where do we go first?”