The Turning: A Tale of the Living Dead (24 page)

Part
Four

The
Harrowing

1

MARCH

By the middle of March, the snow
was gone and so was their food.  It was time to go hunting, but now that Jenny
was walking around he was afraid to leave her alone, fearing she’d get into
something she shouldn’t. 

Jeff decided to take her along
with him.  She would have to learn, eventually, how to do these things, and
there was no better time to teach her than now. 

He fixed her to a baby sling he'd
found in the house so she rode on his back like a backpack.  He shouldered his
shotgun and carried his rifle, locked up the house, and headed out into the
woods.

Deep into the trees, he set a few
simple squirrel traps, explaining to Jenny how to do it and how the traps
worked.  She looked at his work for a moment and then lost interest, watching
the trees overhead instead.  Jeff smiled.  

They spent the day out in the
wild, enjoying the warmer weather and each other’s company.  When the day was
done, they’d caught three squirrels and sighted a couple of deer.  Jeff made a
mental note of the area where he’d spotted the deer so he could come back
tomorrow, or the next day, and see if he could bag them one. 

Jenny stayed quiet, the whole
time.  It was like she knew what they were doing and not to make any noise.  He
was so proud of her.  When they got back to the house, he took her from the
sling and kissed her forehead and together they laughed. 

The next day didn’t bring a deer
but it did bring a couple more squirrels.  He decided it was time to break out
the barbecue grill stored in the work shed.  Jeff hauled it out, checked the
propane tank, and fired it up.

He cleaned the squirrels and
grilled them as Jenny walked around the yard, chasing bugs and picking at the
grass.  The sun was high and warm and spring had officially sprung.  It still
got chilly at night, but during the day, things had been pretty pleasant. 

Jeff watched her play.  This
spring and summer he would do a better job of getting them prepared, he
decided.  He would go into town and get some supplies so he could weatherize
the windows and he would get some seeds to plant a garden out back so they
could have vegetables to eat year-round.  He had a book on canning to help him
learn how to store the food.  He’d also chop up more wood than they’d ever need
and fill the damn house with it.   

As the smell of the cooking meat
filled his nose with its sweetness, he surveyed the land around him.  This
could be a scene from any number of suburban evenings in the long history of
America; it was tranquil, full of peace and hope for the future.  Jeff decided
this was a perfect home and they should stay there for good.  It made sense. 
The place was pretty safe, far enough from any roads.  There were no people and
no zombies, for the most part, so it seemed ideal.  They could build a
comfortable, safe life here, far from any madness or insanity, and by staying
here, Jenny had a chance to grow up and learn how to survive in this terrible,
awful world.

2

Spring was coming down and with it
the renewed hope of all of nature.  Jeff felt himself being swept up in the
optimism and he let it wash over him. It was good for once to feel like there
was a chance, that there may be a future out there not filled with horror and
despair. 

All the pain and suffering of the
last year was dripping off him, slowly and surely, as he became a new man.

Lost in these thoughts, he almost
didn’t notice the man leave the cover of the woods at the edge of the front
yard and walk over towards him, hands held high and empty.

Jeff stirred the meat and stared
at the stranger, too stunned to move.  It was only Jenny’s cries that roused
him from his stupor.  He reached over and grabbed the rifle he had leaning
against the house and raised it, ready to fire, as Jenny ran to him and
clutched his leg.

“Oh, no, please don’t shoot!” the
man said.  As he got closer Jeff saw it was no man at all, but a teenager.  He
wore a big, floppy hat which obscured part of his face, a long brown coat, a
pair of torn jeans, and a dirty flannel shirt.

“Hold it right there,” Jeff said.

The boy stopped.  Jeff took a step
closer to get a better look.  The kid had to barely be fifteen, at most.  His
face was pocked with acne and his eyes, brown and beady, roved in panic.

“Please.  I’m hungry.  I just want
a bite to eat and then I’ll be on my way,” the boy said.

Jeff measured him.  The old man in
the woods, the one who’d stolen his necklace, was the first thing to come to
his mind.  There was no way he was going to let this kid anywhere near them. 

“My name is Dave,” the boy said.  “They
call me Skinny Dave.  I can’t give you anything in return, but I would sure
appreciate it if you could spare a little meat.”
“Sorry,” Jeff said.  “We don’t have much to share.”
“Oh,” Dave said.  His hands dropped, slow, as did his shoulders and face, in
disappointment.  “Where I came from, there was plenty of food.  Over in
Portland.  You know where Portland is?”
Jeff nodded.

“I had it good there, but they
kicked me out.  Now I’m starving,” Dave said.  His eyes grew large and he
clenched his hands together in front of him.  “Please.  One piece and I’ll be
on my way.”
“How did you know we were here?” Jeff said.

“I’ll tell you if you give me some
food,” Dave said.

Jeff looked at the squirrels on
the barbecue.  There wasn’t really much to go around, one for him and one for
whatever Jenny could eat.  He decided to take a chance.  Jeff used the tongs to
place a squirrel on one of the paper plates he had and carried it over to the
kid, keeping his rifle up and ready to use. 

Up close, Dave looked worse for
the wear.  His eyes were gaunt and his face drawn and tired.  It was pretty
obvious he hadn’t eaten in a while and was having trouble surviving out in the
wild and, while this made Jeff feel bad for him, it didn’t make him want to
adopt another mouth to feed.  It was best the kid ate and was on his way.

Dave smiled, revealing four
missing teeth, and took the plate.  He inhaled the squirrel before Jeff could
take a step back. 

“Thank you,” Dave said.  He gnawed
the bones as Jeff made his way back to the grill and Jenny, who sat quietly,
staring the stranger like a watchdog.  Jeff turned off the grill and took his
own food from it, placing it on a paper plate, and sitting on the ground next
to Jenny.  He kept his eyes on Dave the whole time, waiting for something to
happen.  The kid was too busy licking his fingers, though, caught up in the
moment, to be much of a threat.

Jeff tore tiny strips of meat off
the squirrel and gave some to Jenny.  She took them, her eyes never leaving
Dave, and stuck them in her mouth.  She chewed slowly, methodically.

“Thank you,” Dave said again.  He
licked the paper plate and groaned, sounding as happy as any man ever could.

“How did you know we were here?”
Jeff said.

Dave pointed to the chimney. 
“Smoke.  I saw it days ago and followed it here,” he said.

Jeff silently cursed himself.  He
knew it was a risk to run it during the day, but it had gotten so cold, he’d
had no choice.  Now he was paying the price for all those freezing but not
frozen days.  He took a bite of squirrel.

“You came from Portland,” Jeff
said.  “Tell me about it.”
Dave’s eyes lit up.  “Oh, you should see it!  Man, they got the whole city
blocked off.  No zombies can get in.  And there’s something like thousands of
them outside, all wanting to get in and eat us.”
“How did you get out?”
“There’s a pipe we use.  It runs into the sewers and under the city, but it
empties out about a mile from town, so there’s no zombies around to see it.”

Jeff nodded.  He ate another piece
of meat.  “Why did you get thrown out?”
Dave’s smile fell and he kicked the ground in front of him.  He didn’t say
anything.

“Well?” Jeff said.

“I kissed Megan,” he said.

“Who’s Megan?”
“She’s Mr. Parker’s daughter.”
‘And who’s Mr. Parker?”
Dave looked up at Jeff like he was an idiot.  “You don’t know who Mr. Parker
is?  Mr. Richard Parker?”
Jeff shook his head.

“He’s only the guy who got
Portland secured!  He’s only the guy who organized everyone and kept them
together!  Jesus, man!  How can you not know Mr. Parker?”
“Sounds like a great guy,” Jeff said.

“You don’t know the half of it,”
Dave said.  “He’s ex-military and about the toughest son of a bitch I know.  He
got the walls built and the bridge blocked off and he’s the one who runs
things.  Him and his family.  They’re kinda royalty, when it comes to
Portland.”
“And he doesn’t like having his daughter kissed,” Jeff said.

“Well,” Dave’s eyes fell.  “We did
more than kiss.”
“How old is Megan?”
“She’s sixteen.”
“And how old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“And this Mr. Parker caught you two…?”
“No,” Dave said, his face burning red.  “Mrs. Parker did.  And she threw a fit
and next thing I knew, it was either the wall or exile.”
“The wall?”

Dave looked up, the red draining
from his face.  “Mister, you don’t want to know.”

They sat in silence for a while,
neither saying a word.  Jeff tore off some meat for Jenny and she chewed on it,
never taking her eyes off Dave.  It was funny the way she was reacting,
mimicking Jeff, staying silent and alert.

“You best be running along now,”
Jeff said.

Dave looked disappointed.  “Are
you sure?  I could help you out here.  I’m good.  I work hard.  You’ll see, if
you’ll give me a chance.”
Jeff shook his head.

Dave suddenly jumped up and down,
angry and violent.

“Fuck you!  Fuck you, man!  You
asshole!  You selfish asshole!” Dave screamed.

Jeff raised the rifle and
something hard and sharp slammed into the back of his head.  The ground rose up
and punched the side of his face as the rifle clattered from his hands.  Jenny
turned and screamed as big hands reached over him and snatched up his rifle. 

Dave sprinted over and kicked
Jeff’s face and everything went black.

He woke seconds later, his body
twitching, as Jenny screamed.  He tried to move but he couldn’t, his legs and
arms dead, not responding.  His eyes flickered around, unable to focus on
anything except Jenny, sitting across the yard.  She got on all fours and
crawled towards him, her face streaming with tears.  Inside the house, he heard
thing getting tossed around and lots of curses.  The front door slammed open
and Dave stomped out, angry.

“Son of a bitch!  It’s empty!”

Behind him trailed another person,
the one who snuck up behind Jeff while Dave kept him occupied.  This guy was
tall and skinny and wore green military fatigues and a red baseball cap.  He
had a beaked nose and glittering black eyes. 

“I told you!” the guy said.

“Shut up, Tony!” Dave said.  He
paced the yard, chewing on his fingers, thinking.  His eyes fell on Jenny and
he snapped his fingers.

“Let’s take her,” he said.

Tony looked at Jenny and then at
Dave.  “I’m not going to eat a baby, man,” Tony said.

“No, dipshit!  We take her back. 
It’s perfect, think about it!  Paula wants a baby but she can’t have one,
right?  We bring her a child and she adopts it and Parker is happy!”
Tony mulled it over before finally nodding.  “I think it might work.”
“Of course it will!” Dave said.  He slapped Tony’s back and laughed.  “Let’s
get going, my man!”
Tony pointed at Jeff.  “What about him?”

“Kill him,” Dave said.

“I’m not killing nobody,” Tony
said.

Dave shrugged.  “Then let’s leave
him.  He can’t do anything, anyway.”
Jenny was ten feet from Jeff now, crying and screaming and clawing her way
towards him.  The feeling was coming back into his arms and legs and if he just
had a few more seconds, he could grab her and they could flee into the woods. 

Tony strode over, his long legs
eating up the distance.  Sweat poured down Jeff’s face as he begged his arms
and legs to come to life, to gain some strength.  Jenny crawled along, her eyes
wild and desperate.  Tony was ten feet away, then five, and right as Jenny was
reaching out for Jeff, his big hands snatched her up and away.

“Da, da!” Jenny screeched as Tony
hauled her away.

Jeff sat up and screamed as Dave
ran over and kicked him below his chin, snapping his head back hard and
violent.  As Jeff’s eyes closed, the last thing he heard was Dave saying,
“Thanks for the food, asshole,” and the last thing he saw was Jenny, crying out
“Da, da!” as she and Tony disappeared into the woods.

Then the darkness came.

3

Jeff stirred from his dream and
came awake, fast and hard.  His head throbbed, his leg hurt, and it was almost
night.

He got up, using the side of the
house to brace his body, and shambled inside.  His mind was a scramble of panic
and cold hatred.  It took him a few moments, but he pieced together what had
happened and what he needed to do.  Dave and Tony were headed to Portland—over
a hundred miles away—so he had time to catch up, provided they hadn't gotten
too far.  They took Jenny and he had to get her back, regardless of any danger.

The inside of the house was
ransacked, furniture overturned, smashed jars of baby food in the kitchen,
drawers emptied, and stray pieces of chopped wood thrown across the floor.  The
secret hiding panel he’d built into the floor of the living room, however, went
undiscovered.  In it, he’d hidden the shotgun and boxes of ammo, along with
some other items he might need provided they were beset by the living dead or
any other assault.  He grabbed the shotgun, a box of shells, a flashlight, and
took a carving knife from the kitchen. 

They had a few hours head start on
him and that was too long.  He went into the woods where he’d first seen Dave
and found the trail the two idiots had left behind. 

Jenny’s face flashed through his
mind and he shook it away.  She’d screamed for him, relied on him, counted on
him for protection and sustenance, and he’d failed her.  Just like he’d failed
Jenny at Alcatraz, he was failing now.  Jeff couldn’t live with himself if
anything happened to her, and his fears and burning anger pushed him on, faster
and faster, as he plunged through the woods, following the way they’d gone.

He tried not to think of
anything.  He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, of
quickening his pursuit, but there was no stilling his mind.  Jenny floated on
the fringes of it, the look of fear and her screams always there. 

He plunged through the woods,
eventually emerging onto the small road that ran parallel to his house.  He ran
down the road, his eyes darting in every direction. 

A mile further down, he found a
spot where the grass had tires marks and there was fresh oil on the pavement. 
He bent down and studied it for a moment.  They had a car or some other kind of
vehicle here and they’d taken it.  God only knew how far away they were now.

He ran back to the house, clearing
the hidden driveway, and jumped into the bookmobile.  Jeff put it in gear and
rumbled down the road in hot pursuit.

He checked the maps he’d kept in
the van, consulting them on possible paths to Portland.  The initial way was
the easiest.  Dave and Tony probably followed 99 North and then took 18 East,
which was the most direct route that avoided most of the bigger population
centers, like Salem.  Still, that would push them through plenty of smaller
towns and lots of possible zombie problems.  They could have taken 5 North, but
to get there, they would have to go through Salem and that was something nobody
in their right mind would want to do. 

Or they could have headed south,
for all he knew.  Or west, towards the coast.  Maybe the whole story Dave had
given him about Portland was total bullshit, a lie told to send Jeff in the
wrong direction in case he decided to pursue.  Or maybe it was the complete
truth.  He had no way of knowing.  Jeff tried not to think about it, tried to
trust his instincts, as he pulled onto Valsetz Road.  He followed along the
twisting, ever-changing road, going as fast as he dared.  There were so many
roads they could have taken at this point, leading in dozens of directions, and
Jeff really had no idea which way they could have gone.  So he took a chance,
and hoped for the best.

The roads were pretty clear except
for a derelict car here and there and the occasional zombie, walking along,
mouth open.  Jeff ignored them, his mind focused.  At no point did he see
another, living soul, certainly not Dave and Tony.

He beat his hands against the
steering wheel as night fell, growing darker and thicker, his hopes of spotting
them slipping away.  It was futile.  They could be anywhere, in dozens of
places, or they could be nowhere, pulled off the side of the road and staying
in for the night.  Panic ripped through his chest like a chainsaw, carving a
path of white-hot fear. 

Jeff took a few deep breaths.  He
was doing the best he could.  If he never ran across them, if they took a
different route, then he’d deal with it.  He would still drive as close to
Portland as he could get and then look for that hidden tunnel Dave had spoken
of.  Of course, he knew his chances of even making it to the city, much less
finding some mythical, secret tunnel, were long at best, but he had no real
choice.  He had to find Jenny, and come hell or high water, he would.

After twenty minutes, it was too
dark to drive without his headlights, and the last thing he wanted was to draw
any more attention than he already was, what with the rambling engine of the
bookmobile straining to go as fast as his foot on the pedal was pushing it to
go.

Reluctantly, Jeff found a spot to
pull off and hide the vehicle behind a stand of trees.  He killed the engine
and sat in the seat for a long time, his hands on the steering wheel, speaking
a thousand whispered prayers to a God he didn’t believe in, pleading for
Jenny’s safety.