The Last Blade Of Grass (17 page)

The tractors rumble brings the last few un-entangled infected out of the stable toward me, but I’ve already got it rolling roughly toward the spot that Simone’s shelter is supposed to be, so I just turn in the seat, and shoot them down while I bump and roll over the bodies in my path.

I hit my first two obvious snags once I reach the leading thick edge of corpses in the field. First, I can’t see any sign of the shelter’s entrance. I can see the hole of the second shelter’s ramp fifty yards away and can somewhat make out where this one is supposed to be under the wall of bodies based on that.

The second problem is I didn’t bring the radio with me. I set it down after I spoke with Simone in the house and forgot to pick it back up. I can’t contact Simone to tell her where I am or find out if they can hear the tractor when I get close. It might be possible for the tractor to break through the shipping container roof if I drive over it, but with the amount of bodies out here, I’ll have to move slowly anyway so I can watch what shows up under me.

When I first push the plow into the pile of bodies and lift the scoop, I vomit over the side of the tractor. The sound of each of the snapping bones as I push in with the bucket causes me to shiver, but when the smell hits me, I lose it. The odor that smacks me in the face is what sends me retching over the side. The bodies as they rip open release a cloud of gas that smells like a sewer filled with two week old rotting meat. The normal stench of the infected is bad enough without opening them up. They are, after all, still living bodies, so even with slowed metabolisms they continue to excrete waste. All of which collects in and drips down the legs of the pants they were wearing when they became infected.

Thankfully, it only takes fifteen minutes and twenty scoops of bodies for me to find the leading edge of the ramp going to the buried storage container. I had to stop several times to shoot an infected that was trying to climb onto the tractor with me. Some of the few hundred remaining infected have been climbing out of the pit surrounding Arthur’s stacked container fortress and coming after me. Five more scoops later and I can see the bullet holes at the top of the container doors appear. At least there is some air getting it there now.

“Simone!” I yell, but don’t get a response, so I keep clearing the bodies from the entrance. I have to shoot seven more infected and clear two more scoops of bodies from the entryway before I can jump down from the tractor and check on the condition of everyone inside. I’m greeted with smiling faces when I finally pull away the last of the bodies and get the doors open.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t respond,” Simone says weakly while leaning against a stack of food storage buckets. “I could barely catch my breath and couldn’t get enough air to yell back to you.”

“It’s all right, Simone. I’m going to check on the kids and everyone else, okay?” Everyone in the container is weak or lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, and my mom is still gasping desperately for air, even with the doors open. Amelia and Benjamin are the only ones not moving when I get to them. I shake them both lightly, and they open their eyes. Amelia starts to cry, and so do I. The enormity of what we’ve been through in less than twenty-four hours is hitting me hard and brings me to my knees as it all starts swirling through my mind.

Brian and Melissa shooting at the entrance brings me back to reality, this isn’t over yet. Several people inside start to scream, not knowing that the main attack is over. I step quickly back to the entrance while trying to reassure everyone by saying, “Most of them are dead, but there are still a few hundred around Arthur’s set of stacked containers, and possibly more scattered in outbuildings, barns, or the stable.”

“Everyone needs to grab their guns and head out to help clear the property. I’m not going to close the doors behind us, so I need someone to guard the entrance, and someone to stay in here with the kids.”

Hannah says, “Dad, I want to go.”

“So do I!” says Olivia.

“I would let you, but I need you to stay in here and keep your brother and sisters safe.”

“I don’t think I can go out,” says Karen Chapman before she throws up into a bucket. “I’m just too nauseous from the lack of air and the smell”

Brian also falls to one knee at the entrance. He’s a big guy, so the lack of air probably hit him harder than everyone with smaller lungs. “I can stay with Karen and your kids if you want?” Brian offers.

“Eddie, I need to stay here as well,” Simone says. “Your mom is sixty-seven, and the lack of air hit her hard.”

I walk back to my mom, who is still taking short gasping breaths. “Mama, I have to finish clearing the property. I’ll be back soon.”

She touches my hand and nods.

Walking back to the front I look at Hannah and Olivia, and tell them, “It’s really bad out there. It’s worse than anything we’ve seen before.”

Hannah looks at me, and says, “I can handle it.”

Olivia just says, “I need to learn. Like you keep telling us, this is how the world is now.”

“Okay, you two grab your guns and some magazines, but if it’s too much, then you come back in here.”

I announce to everyone heading out with me, “There will be infected coming over a hill of bodies surrounding the stack of containers that Arthur and his group are on, and there will be crawlers and stragglers everywhere. Don’t go into any buildings alone, and keep looking around so nothing can sneak up on you. Also, everybody watch your step, there are bodies and blood everywhere. If you fall on the wrong thing and get cut, you might get infected.

“I have to clear bodies from the other two root cellars doors. Melissa, are you coming out, or are you staying with Brian, in the container?”

“I’m coming out.”

“Then I would like you to climb on the tractor to shoot for me, so I can focus on clearing bodies. Let’s go.”

The second root cellar shelter is in better shape than the one Simone was in. It is farther away from the stacked container towers where we were shooting from, so it didn’t get completely buried. However, even with the extra distance, there are bodies piled halfway up the entrance. It’s blocked enough to prevent those inside from opening up to get out, but not enough to block the air holes shot into the doors.

“Looks like they had the same idea as you guys did,” I say to Melissa while pointing to the top of the doors. “They shot in some air holes.” Before lowering the scoop, I turn to her, and say, “Melissa, this part gets really bad. You should hop down and keep watch from a distance while I clear these bodies.”

She nods before climbing off of the tractor, with one hand covering her mouth. Brian’s wife is a tough lady and a great shooter. That is why I wanted her watching my back on this thing. Under normal circumstances she would have soldiered on and told me to just get to work, but I can tell she is already getting sick from our short trip over bodies to get here. The same nauseous chill runs through my body as I pick up each scoop of partly frozen cadavers from in front of the doors. At least I don’t throw up this time. The smell and sounds are just as sickening, but now I am prepared for them, which helps a little.

There are occasional gunshots going off by the first shelter I opened up. One or two shots a minute and no new infected showing up from beyond the property. This is the winning stage. All we have to do now is finish off the last of these things and then deal with burning their bodies. With the bulk of the living infected still trapped in the gulley around Arthur’s stacked containers, the only worry at this point is someone getting the disease by being careless or clumsy.

I can’t believe we won. I can’t believe we survived this attack. There were too many, far too many for us to have come out of this alive. But here we are. Melissa and I pull the last few bodies away from the entrance. I open the door and come face to face with Conner, squinting and blinking at the light, but holding his gun ready to fight. His son Jake is next to him, ready for battle as well.

I smile at their enthusiasm and say in a tired yet elated tone, “Most of them are dead guys, but we do still have a bunch left to kill.”

“Is everyone all right?” Samantha asks coming out behind her husband and son. “We heard screaming just when we had to we close the doors yesterday.”

“I think everyone is all right, but I still need to open up the next shelter. Look, it’s pretty bad out here, so keep the kids inside.”

“We didn’t have any kids in this shelter,” Samantha replies.

Rebecca, Jason, and their daughter Rachel come out right behind them and run off in the direction of the third shelter.

“Where is Christopher?” I ask Samantha as I climb onto the tractor. Melissa climbs on next to me.

“Christopher would have been here, but they let him stay with Matt and Heather so he could play with his cousins, since they are all about the same age,” Samantha yells up to me as I get the tractor into first and start moving to catch up to the Andersons.

Samantha grabs hold, steps onto the side of the tractor, and continues filling me in. “They have been freaking out all night while we were in there, worried about their son. If it wasn’t for the bodies piled by the doors, they would have opened them when it was dark to sneak out and check on him.”

“Why didn’t they stay in their shelter with him? Why are they even here without him?” I yell in confusion.

“Remember, Bethany wasn’t feeling well, and Tiffany was taking care of Madison and Olivia for her. So they switched shelters with Bethany and her kids. They let Christopher stay with his cousins.”

“And they did this while we were under attack?” I say not understanding how they could all be so careless.

“No, they decided right away when we first came out here yesterday, while we were still setting up for the attack. No one knew it would be such a large group of these things coming here.”

Just like the other shelters, there are bodies littered all over the ground near it. The initial firing line which started at the fence and led to the shelter doors dropped over two thousand bodies between all of the shooters. These shelters, or root cellars as they were originally purposed, were some of the first things placed in the field when we moved here. The stacked containers that I was shooting from were put in six months later when I started letting people rent the property for survival training.

The first shelter that Simone was in is the closest to the stacked containers with an entrance facing west. That is why it got completely buried in bodies from the shooting. As the infected fell dead from our tower defense, they would roll or slide back off the hill they were climbing, and pile up on the entrance ramp going down to the doors, and eventually over the whole shelter.

The second shelter is farther away from the container towers, and the entrance faces south. That combination kept too many falling bodies from reaching the entrance to bury it. The third shelter sits the furthest away from the stacked containers and its entry ramp faces east, the direction we are headed. So while I drive the tractor past Rebecca, Jason and Rachel I know I don’t have to worry about the third container getting buried and I can see there is no huge pile of bodies nearby. As long as they shot holes in the doors, they would have plenty of air if they needed it. They weren’t buried by bodies.

The third shelter is the closest to the fence line, however, which makes them the first group that would have had to secure themselves inside from the onslaught. That is the thought that is making my heart sink and my stomach tighten as I drive closer. When the screaming started yesterday, I was still outside fighting, but it started a short time before Conner and Samantha had to close their shelter doors. The third shelter should have already been closed up by that time.

Sporadic gunshots continue to ring out in the distance as I drive past the buried shelter and finally the edge of the down ramp comes into view. I drive past the ramp and turn left, stopping the tractor twenty feet away, and look into the dark shelter with its doors propped open.

I watch Samantha step off the tractor. She slowly lets go with her arm floating behind her as if it is still holding on. Melissa leans over the wheel and starts crying. Tears start to stream down my face as well. In three running strides Rebecca will be at the edge of the shelter entrance and will see the emptiness that should contain our friends, family, and her son. Two running strides left and Rebecca sees our reaction, she sees the sadness and loss on our faces. One running stride remaining and Rebecca slows down with a jolt. Her step makes that harder hit of a body still in motion, but trying to stop. She knows what she is going to see. She knows she has to see it but doesn’t want to at the same time.

She screams.

The emotion released in the cry Rebecca lets loose breaks my will. Jason and Rachel fall to the ground with Rebecca as they catch up, holding onto each other, and venting their pain to the sky with their broken sobbing moans. I feel their loss, not just in hearing the pained sobbing, but it is our shared pain. We have all been a close family over these three months, since the first day the disease hit. We haven’t lost a person before today, and now we lost a whole group. We lost several families; Randy and Patricia Langford have lost the most.

The loved ones we lost from this shelter are:

Christopher Anderson, age 8, son of Jason and Rebecca Anderson, and brother of Rachel.

Bethany Murphy, age 29, and her daughters, Madison, age 5, and Olivia, age 3.