Zombie Anthology (12 page)

    
"How far do you think we made it today?” she whispered, trying not to wake Brandon.

    
"A pretty good distance despite the weather,” he assured her. “We're safe here for the night I think."

    
Hannah's .30-.06 rested beside her, propped against the same tree. “Riley, do you think there's anyone else left?"

    
"Sure, honey. Sure. There has to be. If we've made it this long, it just makes sense somebody else, somewhere, has too."

    
"It's not fair,” she muttered with a fresh wetness sliding down her cheeks. “Brandon doesn't deserve this. He should be in school or playing video games. Think of all the things we took for granted Riley, things that Brandon will never know except from our stories. If there are other people out there, we have to find them for his sake and start over somehow."

    
Riley listened to the rain as it bounced off the leaves of the trees around them. “Hannah,” he said softly, “I'm sorry.” “Sorry, Riley? It's not your fault that the dead woke up or that we're living through the end of the world. If it weren't for you, Brandon and I would be dead. I'm grateful for the time had in the cabin. How many other people even had a chance like that? To pretend things were going to be okay? Those months were like heaven. It's just ... It's just Brandon.” She wept. She nestled her face into Riley's chest and sobbed hard against the muscles she found there. Riley's arms encircled her. “I swear Hannah, if there is a place to start again, we'll find it or die trying. We just have to hold it together for a while longer. Rain or no rain, we'll start moving again in the morning.” Riley shut his eyes and thought only of his wife's body pressed against his until the dawn.

    
The clouds broke as the sun rose. Riley checked over their weapons to make sure the dampness hadn't damaged them as Hannah made a game of packing up and preparing to get on the move once more with Brandon. The three shared stale granola bars for a quick breakfast with water from their canteens then set out in the direction of the sun.

7

    
Scott didn't like David's plan. In fact, he loathed it, thinking it was insane. He had nothing better to offer in terms of ideas however so he went along with it. They'd carefully selected which guard to make their offer to and the chance to do it had arrived. The guards were out in full force today as it was time for the prisoners to be rounded up for a breeding session. “Hole in his neck” was in command flanked by six more of the dead. Each carried some type of automatic, military weapon should the prisoners get out of control. The gate to the pen was opened and the men led out of their fenced in area by his subordinates.

    
Scott having been a captive long for weeks knew how things worked. He gave “Hole in his neck” the sign that he wanted to make a trade. “Hole in his neck” studied Scott then motioned for his men to leave Scott behind for the two of them to talk. When the others were all outside of the pen, “Hole in his neck” stepped inside alone with Scott and waited for the human to make his offer. Scott could swear he saw the hunger burning in the dead man's eyes.

    
"Screw it,” Scott mumbled, he hoped too quietly for “Hole in his neck” to hear. He cleared his throat and said, “David and I don't want to go inside today."

    
A look of utter confusion settled on “Hole in his neck's” features. A human male who did not want to get laid was beyond his understanding.

    
Scott saw the look and misread it. “David's the new guy. The one you just brought in."

    
"Hole in his neck” signed the question “Why?” Clearly he thought Scott had lost his mind and was toying with the thought of dispatching the human then and there. He needed more help on the inside tending to the women's needs anyway. A new dead body walking around would help with a lot of things with his duty roster.

    
Scott gritted his teeth steeling himself for what he was about to say. “Look. We're gay okay. We just want to be by ourselves for an hour to
breed
in our own way. Just this one time,” he added hastily.

    
"Hole in his neck” smiled. A sick wet sound came from what was left of his windpipe as he tried to laugh. He shook his head “no” and grabbed Scott, shoving him towards the pen's gate.

    
"Wait!” Scott urged. “You haven't even heard what I'm offering in return."

    
"Hole in his neck” paused. It was not permitted to feed on the prisoners unless they broke the rules or offered non-crucial pieces of their meat freely. Scott had been anything but a normal prisoner and Scott could see that “Hole in his neck” enjoyed the way he was begging for such an unnatural and shameful thing for a human male to ask for.

    
"You could send of your people with us, to make sure we don't escape. I'm only asking for an hour."

    
The dead man gestured asking what he would get in return and indicating that it'd better be worth such an affront to the rules.

    
"My legs,” Scott said firmly. “Both of them. All yours. I don't need them to breed and if I die from you taking them, you can stick me out here so you'll have a permanent watch dog over the others until I rot away to nothing from the heat."

    
"Hole in his neck” held up his fingers saying two guards would go with them, not one. Then he added in hand speech that this would be the only time, one way or another.

    
Scott breathed a sigh of relief as the commander of the watch went to fetch David and the guards who would take them to the woods. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to work after all, Scott thought.

8

    
Bullets sparked and pinged off the asphalt as Riley ran for cover. He half fell, half rolled behind the carcass of an abandoned truck. The spray of bullets followed him thudding into the metal of the truck's frame. Hannah and Brandon were nowhere to be seen. Riley had been cut off from them when the jeep full of dead soldiers appeared, catching him off guard. Riley cursed himself for leading his family here. No matter how safe it had seemed they should have kept to the trees, but the road itself was a mystery. There shouldn't have been a road here at all, not this far out in the country, much less a real one littered with the ruins of cars and trucks which had apparently been left here since the first days of the dead plague. Riley didn't have the faintest idea where it could lead to. The only things that should be up here were trees and dirt trails. He hadn't felt like they'd had the time to follow the road and maybe cut around it somehow and he was paying the price for that choice.

    
He heard the crack of Hannah's .30-.06 somewhere in the distance to his left. “Damn the woman!” he thought. If she and Brandon had reached the trees, they should've just kept going not stop and try to save him. Left with no alternative, he leaned around the end of the truck trying to see what was happening on the road. One of the dead stood several yards away, its attention and AK-47 now focused at the tree-line. Riley's military training took over and seized the chance the moment provided. His M-16 opened up sending a stream of rounds into the dead thing's chest which worked their way up its torso until with a wet popping sound the thing's rotting head burst like a melon sending brain matter spewing onto the road below its feet from the unrelenting gunfire. Its body spun, headless, and dropped. Riley was on his feet running towards it seeking a better vantage point before the corpse hit the ground. There were just three of things that he'd seen and he figured he could handle them as long as he knew Hannah and Brandon were safe. But that was the problem wasn't it?

    
Riley felt fire tear its way into his shoulder as he was knocked from his footing by the impact. His rifle went skidding away from him as he tumbled. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the dead man who'd fired the shot. The thing had its rifle lowered and was charging towards his fallen form with some kind of blade attached to the end of the weapon. Riley didn't move or make any attempt to dodge the attack. He waited to the final possible second and grabbed for the weapon as the thing tried to spear him with it.

    
Close combat with the dead was extremely dangerous. A bite, sometimes just a scratch from their nails, was enough to infect a person with the lethal virus or spirit or whatever it was that gave the dead life.

    
His move took the creature by surprise as he ripped the weapon from its hands and sent the creature sprawling onto the pavement beside him. It rolled at him, its hungry mouth open and hands clawing for his flesh. Riley was faster though. The thing never saw him draw the .45 automatic that blew it brains out the back of its head with a single shot.

    
"Hannah!” Riley screamed praying for an answer. Instead he heard the jeep the things had ridden in on roar to life. He turned to see it streaking away back the in the direction it had came with the last of the dead soldiers at its wheel. Otherwise, the road was silent. Blood strained the front of his shirt leaking from the wound on his shoulder but he didn't feel it. He bolted, his legs pounding beneath him, to where he'd heard the shot from Hannah's rifle moments before. He skidded to a halt as he reached the tree-line. Hannah was in the dirt kneeling over Brandon. Riley's heart felt like it stopped beating inside of him as Hannah looked up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks and her hands wet with blood. A puddle of red was growing around Brandon's fragile form where it lay. Spots appeared in Riley's vision, which grew into darkness as Hannah watched him collapse.

9

    
Scott and David put on a show for the two guards accompanying them outside the breeding center. They held hands and acted eager to reach a place in the hills where they could be together intimately. The guards led them about a mile and a half from the compound proper before the group stopped and one of the dead men pulled out a stopwatch from its pocket. “This is as far as we're going,” the guard informed them and started the watch. “You better get to it if you're going to. The clock is ticking."

    
"You're going to watch us?” David said horrified. “That wasn't part of the deal."

    
"Tough,” the other guard grunted. “Get to jerking each other or whatever so we can get back."

    
"What's the matter?” Scott laughed. “Are you horny too? Wanna join us?"

    
The guard blinked his single eyelid while the other laughed at his stunned comrade to whom the offer had been made. Scott sprang forward striking out with the flat of his palm. His blow drove the laughing guard's nose bone up into its brain killing the creature instantly. The remaining guard swung up the barrel of his weapon at Scott to try to get a shot but David was there. He threw himself onto the guard and they went down in a mess tangled limbs as the guard's rifle blazed away.

    
Scott instinctively ducked out of the path of the awkward gunfire snatching up the rifle of the guard he'd killed. He whirled to see David laying atop the guard the young man had tackled with his intestines scattered about everywhere. The burst from the thing's weapon must have gutted David as the pair had fallen. Scott's finger squeezed the trigger of his rifle and held it emptying the clip into David's corpse and the guard. Scott tossed the rifle aside. Neither David nor the guard would be getting up again. He felt a pang of loss and guilt over David's sacrifice but didn't have the time to really think about it. The whole compound he knew must have heard the brief battle. Scott sprinted away from the scene into the trees without looking back.

10

    
O'Neil and Captain Steven studied the map spread out on the table before them. Steven stabbed at a point on the map with his finger. “We'll put in here."

    
"South Carolina?” O'Neil asked.

    
"Why not? This port here is out of the way in terms of the old commercial traffic routes and it's close enough for us to reach it within two days."

    
"It'll still be guarded. If nothing else there'll be those things all over the docks,” O'Neil commented. “I don't like the idea of taking
The Queen
that close to land again."

    
Steven smiled. “We're not. Not this time. We'll sail in just close enough for the lifeboats to make it ashore."

    
O'Neil looked at the Captain completely baffled.

    
"Stealth, Mr. O'Neil. It's something we haven't tried before. If we go in at night instead of all guns blazing,
The Queen
herself may still face an attack but the dead may not notice our smaller boats until they've had time to do everything they need for once.” Steven saw the way O'Neil was glaring at him. “Yes, it's more of a risk to the raiding party if they do notice them and it'll mean less supplies brought back overall because we won't be loading straight onto
The Queen.
But I'm willing to take the gamble in hopes that it will save us some lives. If it works, it'll give the raiding party a better edge than they've ever had before and well, if
The Queen
does become engaged I think she can handle herself. We have before and will do so many more times before we're done I'm sure."