Blood, Brains and Bullets: Sacrifice
By Sean Liebling
www.seanliebling.com
My daughter has the TV on too loud when I walk in the house, arms loaded down with groceries. It takes me a number of trips to get everything in the house this time. Maybe I got carried away. I hear some announcer coming over the TV, just the sound, not making out many words. Then the emergency warning sound came over the voice. Like the kind you get during a tornado warning. That emergency broadcast warning tone. All three kids are in the living room and I glance at the receiver seeing the channel set to sixty-six, which was Disney. What I see instead is red bands across the top and bottom of the screen and a typical news announcer waiting for the warning to end so he can speak again. I say ‘Hi’ to the kids and they started complaining about the interruptions to their cartoons when the warning sounds stop and the announcer’s voice picks up again. I hush them so I can hear.
“For those of you just tuning in let me repeat. It is imperative that all citizens stay inside their homes until further notice. Do not travel or leave your homes unless it is a medical emergency. Anyone with flu like symptoms should go immediately to your nearest hospital or medical facility and seek treatment. I repeat. Stay in your homes unless you have a medical emergency. There have been reports of large numbers of deaths associated to the flu virus and vaccine treatments, the President of the United States has declared the country in a state of National Emergency until further notice.”
Holy shit, I thought. I had never heard of that happening before and it had only been a half hour since the last warning. I kept listening.
“Do not under any circumstances let strangers into your home, especially if they look sick or have any noticeable fluids on their clothing or skin. There are FEMA facilities being prepared to handle refugees. Reports coming in from some of the major cities tell of widespread violence as feverish flu victims attack their fellow citizens. There have also been reports of deaths associated with the vaccinations and reanimations but everyone is to stay calm. Lock your doors and stay inside. If you have not received the vaccination yet, do not do so. Law enforcement is responding to emergencies and the President has signed an executive order calling up the National Guard to maintain order during this crisis.”
He started to repeat himself, reading from the paper in front of him and I tuned him out. I grabbed the remote and switched it to FOX seeing a variation of the same thing being broadcast. Then to NBC, ABC, CNN but it didn’t matter. The emergency broadcast was on every channel.
There was a pounding at my back door. What the fuck?! I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound and then felt like slapping myself when rounding the corner to the back room; I saw that it was just Michael, my cop neighbor from the house next door. Actually, Michael was practically my only neighbor within shouting distance. He looked frantic and he opened the door and came in when he saw me.
“Brother, grab your guns. This is it and no joke.” He not only looked scared but also like he was about to cry. I noticed he had his bulletproof vest on and was wearing his service automatic and yet I knew he had the day off.
“What?” I was bewildered. What in hell was he talking about?
“Zombies!” He deadpanned. My jaw dropped.
Tommie and Abigail had been trying to remain hidden and quiet. This was something very hard for little Jack to do. He was their miracle child, their precious gift from God. The two of them had never hoped to conceive a child until little Jack came along, as Abigail had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer at nineteen. The doctors said she would be unable to conceive after three surgeries and even more chemotherapy. However, they had lived their lives happy with each other, only missing the one thing that would fulfill the void within them. A child of their own. A child, Thomas, or Tommy as his friends called him, could pass his small woodworking business too when he retired. Abigail didn’t care about passing a business on in retirement; she had grown up as a young girl dressing her stuffed animals in baby clothes waiting the day when she would have a child of her own to care for, to nurture, and raise.
That day came when they were least expecting it. They’d married at eighteen, against both their parents’ wishes. Now twenty-two years later, she unexpectedly became sick. Throwing up, bloating, and her breasts hurt. They were worried it was a new onset of cancer. They had expected the worse when they scheduled the doctor’s appointment, and she went in for a full checkup.
Tommy and Abigail couldn’t begin to describe the feeling they experienced, nor the wonder in the doctor’s voice and eyes when he informed them…she was pregnant. It was against all hope and medical science. A partial ovary and ravaged Fallopian tubes were all she had within her, but the miracle had still happened. A one in a million chance, but it did. She immediately quit her job and did everything to keep the child within her healthy. Tommy put in fewer hours at his business, regardless of customer requests he received. This baby was more important than they were. He was her triumph. He was their legacy, their little miracle.
During the last two months of her pregnancy, she rarely got out of bed, for little Jack would be arriving soon so she took no chances. Yes, they knew his name. Because of the rarity of a conception of this type, she was receiving ultrasounds every month from the third month on, so they knew it would be a boy. In their youth, they had fantasized about one day having a child, even knowing such a thing would never happen. However, they needed these fantasies to stay sane. Even so, up until the moment of revelation by an incredulous doctor they still led fulfilling lives, very much in love and dedicated to each other like few other couples. They were the everything of each, and their love knew no boundaries.
Then little Jack was born and he was so perfect. So beautiful and right in their lives. No expense they or their parents could afford was spared. He was, after all, their miracle. Then he started growing, and boy, did he grow. He was also all little man, and as anxious parents they dreaded his daily rough activities afraid he would be hurt or worse. It took all her willpower to allow him to grow up somewhat normally. Yet now, growing up had suddenly become a live and death issue.
When their neighbors first started turning strange, they didn’t know what to think. Everything was strange. You could not turn on the TV or listen to the radio without hearing the government warnings cycling repeatedly. Something having to do with the flu shot, the vaccinations that they had not received yet. Oh, they’d meant to. But little Jack was just getting over a bad cold, and Tommy and Abigail wanted to give him an extra day or two before they loaded his system down with more immunizations, and this was something they would do as a family.
However, people started walking across their lawn, stumbling actually and appeared sick. When Tommy went out to talk to them to find out what was going on and if he could help, they had actually attacked him. Tommy and Abigail had immediately locked all of the doors, and it was only then that the TV news issued warnings to avoid strangers. So, they had hidden within their home. From behind closed blinds and drapery, they had watched the savagery occur within their neighborhood. Tommy and Abigail were beyond scared, not for themselves, but for their little Jack.
Now it was coming to an end. The creatures, their deranged neighbors, had finally broken in. Abigail and Tommy had nothing to fight them with, nothing to defend themselves from the horrors intruding into their home. As devout New Testament Christians, they firmly believed in turning the other cheek. However, this day they had to do more than just turn their cheeks, they could only use the weight of their bodies against the doors trying to keep the creatures out. It had worked for that day. Now the day was ending.
“Baby, I will try holding them back. But you have to hide little Jack.” Tommy was frantic. They had slid the dining room hutch across the floor to block the hallway to the kitchen but it would not hold them long. They knew their time was short, already they could hear boards splintering. He held her hands tenderly, his tears splashing their joined wrists. “We have no time left. I love you baby with all my heart,” his voice was breaking. He reached down and caressed his small son’s face with the palm of his hand. The last touch he would have in this life. He cherished it and turned to meet their invaders as his beloved Abigail solemnly nodded with her own tears streaming down her cheeks, then turning away taking little Jack with her. He watched them retreat with a sad smile on his face, as his back pressed tightly against the cherry wood hutch he had handcrafted from a few boards. He felt the creatures slamming against it, felt it breaking. There was no more time. No time for more kisses. No time for more hugs. His only regret was that there were not a dozen of him to protect his family.
His face clouded up and determination settled in. He turned in place and braced his wide strong hands against the lovingly created masterpiece he had built for his family. Only moments now were all he had left. His mind went back to their earliest days together. He and Abigail, fantasizing about having a child when they knew they could not. But, that child had been born. A precious miracle of life.
The remaining boards splintered around him as he fell back half a step. He lifted his face to the Lord and a firm look countenanced his features as his head tilted downwards directed at the approaching invaders.
“You will not have my SON!” he roared. He stretched his arms out sideways in the narrow hallway, with his fingers digging into the painted sheet rock. He didn’t even feel the pain when the bones in three of his fingers snapped. With almost superhuman strength, he tensed, pulling his arms forward as his hands dug through the plaster grasping the wooden two-by-fours within the walls and held on; his face turned to meet them with a snarl. It was the only defiance he had left, for his body was the barrier. He would hold them back as long as possible. He would hold them back long enough.
“Go Abby,” he whispered as he started the Lord’s Prayer, images of his wife and son filling his mind, a kaleidoscope of memories he cherished and would die with. He felt the creatures slam into him. He held. They were biting him now. Still he held. He heard their growls, and he growled back staring their expressionless faces in the eyes. They were clawing at his waist and legs now, and the pain was unimaginable. But images of little Jack filled his mind. And he clung, and held on screaming his hate and rage.
Abigail pulled little Jack to the kitchen. They had discussed this; she had no idea what to do. She could only think to open the cupboard little Jack was always hiding in when he played hide and seek with her. He went inside and willingly. He was scared and he knew something was wrong, but he was trusting mommy and daddy to make it right. That this was only a game. He looked up as mommy placed him in his favorite hiding spot and saw her smiling down at him. She leaned in and kissed him tenderly, as she always did. A mommy’s kiss, only longer. He could see wetness on her face, he didn’t understand. Then she played the game. She told him to pretend he was asleep so she could hide. “Pretend for five minutes,” she said. “Then lay there until I come back for you. Do not make a sound. Just like at bedtime.” He felt bottles being pressed against him. She was laying bottles of water on top and around him after loosening their tops. Why was she doing that? A bag of Oreos, followed by chips, and then his favorite blanket. He remembered her last kiss. Then he heard her last whisper. “Stay quiet until I come back, like always. Be a good boy Jack. We love you. Never forget, baby.” The cupboard door closed. He was confused but it was a game. It was okay.
Abigail rose with her shoulders in a set position. There were so many things she wanted to tell her son, but there was no time. She hoped, if their Jack survived, that he would at least remember a mommy’s last warm embrace, and her and Tommy’s love for him. She turned slightly to the muted sounds her husband, her love, was making as he held them back for a few more moments. She could do no less to try to save their son. She reached over the counter and pulled her two largest butchers knives out of the hardwood butcher’s block Tommy had made her, sticking them behind her belt. Then looking up and reaching overhead, she pulled two pans from the rack suspended there. She backed to the mudroom door waiting. And they came. She did not doubt they would. She saw them look around and immediately started banging the pots together over her head.
“Hey! Look at me! I’m what you want!” Abigail shouted. Her mind was clear with the knowledge her Tommy was gone, but she was determined to save their son. Instantly, the creatures turned towards her and started moving forward. She saw what looked like fresh blood on some of their faces. She did not bother wondering whose it was; she knew it was Tommy’s. She backed through the door leading them. Oh my, they followed her. She opened the back door, dodging the creatures waiting there and continued to lead the others away from the house banging the pans continuously. They soon had her surrounded with no room to dodge or run, so she dropped the pans and pulled the butcher knives out as they descended on her. What she felt then was transcended by her love for her son. She was giving him the only legacy she had left to give. The legacy of life. She clenched her teeth tightly against the pain and started slashing silently.
Little Jack had pretended to be asleep for the five minutes, then five minutes more. Now it had been too long. Mommy was coming back. She was just taking a long time. He heard the loud noises but sometimes mommy did that in their game at bedtime. She made noises to try to fool him. However, he was a smart boy. Then he heard many other sounds, feet shuffling on the floor and growls. He was scared. After a while, there was silence. Then Tolly came to him. She pushed her nose against the cupboard door crack and forced her way in lying down next to him. He hugged her tight. Now he was really scared but exhausted. He fell asleep.
The next morning when he woke he was thirsty. He drank from a bottle of water momma had left. She had loosened the tops so he could open them himself. He was afraid to go out. Mommy had not come back yet. Daddy didn’t come for him either. Where are mommy and daddy? he thought as he ate Oreo cookies. Tolly was here, he shared his cookies with her. He didn’t know what Border Collie meant, but he heard “collie” so she was Tolly. It was simple to him. It was also cold, and Tolly kept him warm. It was before his naptime but he fell asleep anyways holding her. Where were mommy and daddy?
He finished the Oreo cookies. He still had two bottles of water. He could count to ten after all. Tolly ate the chips. He only got to eat two or three, so he shoved her out the cupboard door as he was really mad. But he didn’t leave the hiding spot. Mommy didn’t say to leave. He was getting hungry, really hungry.
Later that day, Tolly dragged her dog food bag to the cupboard door. That was her food, not meant for him. But it didn’t taste that bad. It was crunchy and actually tasted pretty good. He hoped mommy and daddy did not see him eating Tolly’s food. They would yell at him but he was hungry, so it was okay. He waited. Mommy did not come back. He continued to wait. He had to go to the bathroom but by now, he was beyond scared. He was afraid to leave the kitchen. He peeked out Tolly’s dog door into the back yard and saw many strangers. He didn’t see mommy or daddy, so he did his business in the corner over by the stove. He didn’t know where else to go. The refrigerator was still cold inside and he drank some milk, spilling it all over the floor in the process. Mommy would be mad! But he was too small to get a sippy cup down. He cried a lot. Where were Mommy and Daddy? He called softly for them, they didn’t answer; and mommy never said he could leave, so he hid back in his favorite cupboard with his blanket and Tolly and waited. He slept a lot.
When he woke this time, it was getting dark again. He was hungry and ate more dog food, then drank some water sharing it with Tolly. Tolly didn’t drink too much. She probably had her own water bottle wherever she went too. He saw her push the cupboard door open again and leave the house through her doggie door. He didn’t know where she went but she always came back. He played with some Styrofoam cups he found in the back of the cupboard. They could be stacked like his building blocks. He was learning to do it in the dark because there was nothing else to do. After awhile he fell asleep again. Tolly had returned but left again. Maybe next time he would follow her. Where did she go? Did she go to mommy and daddy? If so, why didn’t mommy come get him? He missed her and daddy so much. Where were they? Then Tolly was back. Jumping up and down but not making a sound. He noticed that Tolly hadn’t barked in days. He had his blankie wrapped around him for warmth and Tolly grabbed its edge with her teeth and started tugging it and him through the cupboard door. Where did she want him to go?
The first thing he saw as he crawled out of the cupboard was the open back door. The second thing he saw was the large figure silhouetted in the entrance. His eyes widened in fright.
DAY 4: 2000 ET
It had been a nightmare of a day, from the morning rescue, through the drama here, then a break in of the damn zombies on the north side of the property. Hadn’t lost anyone that time but it had been too close. The women got the RAC granary straightened out with the help of Miguel’s crews and about half of the group was over there. The place was all concrete and steel, very easy to defend with only a few doors leading in or out. Those silo towers also offered great vantage points to survey the area and I had some ideas on more protection later but it could wait until morning.
Sam’s crew had raided the State Police post just up the road in Newaygo while Wayne’s crew was raiding Parsley’s. Sam had used the simple expediency of backing his truck through the side wall to gain entry. They stripped it of everything usable: guns, ammunition and clear plastic riot shields. Now those shields were great news. They would help in cleaning zombies out of buildings and homes, while the city snowplows cleared them off the roads.
I didn’t know when I started referring to them as Miguel’s crew, Sam’s crew, Rosita’s crew and Michael and Wayne’s crew but I did. It was certainly more convenient than having to figure out which extra man went with whom. I was letting them add new people as more survivors came in; it was simply easier that way. I was also bone tired and it was time for bed. I turned over the to-do lists I had been putting together to Miguel. Miguel was turning into an excellent quartermaster and organizer. His days in the Federales had evidently prepared him well for it.
“Okay gang, I’m going to bed. I’m totally bushed. We have more, a lot more to do but right now I’m getting some sleep. I’ll be in MY bedroom if you need me.” I had emphasized the words, my bedroom; because even as packed as we were with refugees, I was not giving up my only private refuge left.
I climbed the steps slowly. I hadn’t seen Bridget in awhile but didn’t feel like searching for her. I was just too tired. She had gotten over Danielle taking off. Not easily, but she understood. Danielle had left to find her husband, but since he’d received the vaccination I figured we’d never see her again.
I was letting myself in then remembered I had forgotten a lantern for the bedroom as most of the house was still unpowered. It was not needed though. Someone had thoughtfully left one here for me turned way down. I could barely see but I was fine, I knew my bedroom. I dropped my holsters in the chair next to the bed. Sitting on its edge, I started on my boots, then the rest of my clothing. I decided to leave my long underwear on as it was already down to forty or lower in the room. The nights were getting colder. Winter was coming.
I heard a soft giggle and the covers stirred behind me as a small female hand and arm reached out and curled itself around my waist as I finished undressing. That’s where Bridget had gotten off to. I smiled and quickly removed the rest of my clothes including my long underwear sliding under the covers and rolling over her to get to the other side. I had a side I preferred, like most men. As I did, my outstretched hand landed on more female flesh and a different sounding giggle erupted from the covers next to Bridget. A black haired head poked up from the blankets. Cara. Holy shit! Both girls sat up and even in the dim light, I could see they were buck-naked. They wasted no time dragging me under the covers where it was warm.
It was actually very warm, almost hot with the girls and the covers wrapped around us. I could also smell the muskiness of their sex and I wondered just how good of friends they had become. “Ahhhh…” I started to speak but Bridget’s hand rose up and a finger laid itself across my lips. “Shhhhh,” she said. “Cara and I talked, Jay, and we came to an agreement…” She stopped talking, leaned over, and started kissing my chest. I had an arm around each girl and they were both half draped on top of me. Cara continued the conversation. “It’s like this, Señor Jay. Did you notice the refugees that came in today?” she asked. I nodded as my face moved against her silky hair. “Then you notice maybe that most are female with children. Few men?” I nodded again. Bridget kept kissing my chest, her lips moving to my right nipple and I could feel myself harden almost instantly. I tried to concentrate on Cara, but she then made it harder because it was her hand that slid over my belly and grabbed my manhood tightly and possessively. She continued speaking while stroking me. I felt Bridget’s hand join hers. Uh oh…
“We think the men are getting killed protecting their women and children or any woman and child. It’s what most men do.” I felt Bridget’s head nod. “We have decided that if we survive, there will be far fewer men and many more women left. I guess we’re going to have to share our men. We are not stupid, Señor Jay. I do not hope someday for a big strong man my age or a little older to sweep me off my feet and marry me. I think that’s not going to happen now. We are convinced that those men are dying because they’re protecting people. If I do see one my age come in alone I will be suspicious that he is alive. I will want to know why.” I heard the tears in her voice. “So you see we will share you. If that is okay, Señor.” She finished and started kissing me passionately then slid on top.
Four hours later when they knocked on the bedroom door to get me for guard duty I was still awake with Cara. Bridget I had already exhausted and was lying beside us asleep and I knew Cara would soon follow her. Me? What sleep? I was also ten minutes late getting downstairs. The grins when I arrived, told me they understood.
DAY 5: 0200 ET
My guard duty never materialized. Miguel had replaced Bridget and I on the list then forgotten to tell me or the previous guards before my supposed shift started. He was still up working on his lists and schedules when I came downstairs. I made a mental note to get him some help. I decided since I was awake I’d do something that needed doing. I was wired now. Sex does that to me for some reason. I wanted to get an idea of our zombies travel patterns. It had been bugging me all through yesterday afternoon. So yeah, I figured we needed to get a handle on this. Lots of stuff were coming over the shortwave but the news was all contradictory. Since I was up and not sleepy anymore I figured to do some recon.
Michael was right. It was an outbreak and much worse than anyone could have imagined. Some might call it attack of the zombies. Some might call it judgment day, as some were. Some might say you were still asleep and it was time to wake up. The short of it was the flu killed some people, maybe ten percent, and mostly older people. The vaccinations on the other hand killed most people over the age of twelve or so. I breathed a sigh of relief thinking of Emma. Her fever was down to a little over a hundred degrees and steadily decreasing, she would be fine I felt. However, those that died from the vaccinations did not stay dead. Or rather, they did not really die. They went into a high fever coma of a hundred-ten to a hundred-fifteen degrees for a few hours. Then they died, or some semblance of it. Shortly after that appearance of death, their bodies cooled to room temperature very quickly. Too quickly, and they appeared clinically dead. Then they woke. Then went into a murderous rage and tried to eat the people around them, or anything alive from what we heard. Dogs, cats, pet fish. No source of live meat was sacred to the newly risen.
The airwaves were wild with speculation, but the few seeming reliable sources claimed it was some kind of crazy animal rage thing. The intense fever killed off all higher brain functions and what was left operated off lower function animal instincts. They were mad enraged beasts! When they ate, they would eat only flesh and then only living flesh. Like a wild carnivore. They would even eat each other but mostly those not infected yet. They could eat normal food but would not if they did not think it was alive. Weird. What was disturbing also was that they had changed. No longer being warm-blooded humans, but instead some kind of cold-blooded beasts. Not a lot was known, just that it was happening all over the world at once. It was not surprising after all, as America had been the producer and distributor of the vaccine worldwide. Well, actually the pharmaceutical companies in the United States along with a few major ones in Europe.
There was little from the government on the emergency channels just what FEMA was saying. The usual about staying inside with doors locked. That order would be restored shortly. Yeah right. We listened and drank coffee in the kitchen.
As I entered the back room, Miguel muttered something about being sorry for the mix-up, barely looking up from his writing but I waved the apology away. This was actually the perfect time for what I had planned. I looked around the house moving from room to room silently. I had perfected the silent walk technique years ago while married. It had been the only way I could sneak a couple of beers late at night without the ex-wife knowing. As I said before, I loved my beer. There he was. I had spotted Jason’s brown bedroll and squatted beside him. I had meant to wake him gently with a tug on his foot; instead, I found his eyes staring at me. Jason, a.k.a. the Lord’s Reaper, had helped us save almost sixty survivors yesterday. A retired Marine Corps sniper, he was par none with a long rifle.
“Your knees creak when you crouch,” he whispered. Was that a grin on his face? Jesus, everyone’s a comedian. I quickly explained what I intended. He nodded. He was in. We decided on pistols and machetes. Machetes for any dirty work we needed to do, and pistols if we were boxed in and had to make a run for it. I alerted the guards to our little recon: they and many others would come running if they heard us shooting. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. This was a recon, not an attack.
We made it to the north corner of my property without any trouble. We walked slowly and quietly letting our eyes adjust to the moonlight and darker shadows. Contrary to popular belief, it actually takes several minutes for your pupils too fully dilate. The difference in seeing ability is significant between the first minute in the dark and ten minutes later. With the moon out it was practically like dim daylight by the time we reached my property line and we used it to our advantage, scurrying from tree to bush to house, staying as hid as possible. The zombies were definitely out and while not actively looking for prey, as close as we could tell, they were pausing before houses and watching. We had to low crawl a few times but made it to the edge of town and kept watching.
What we saw scared the hell out of us. In ones and twos, zombies of all ages and genders were slowly coming from the woods and less settled areas just outside town and converging on the larger buildings. It was almost supernatural. We watched them carefully. Slowly over the course of the next two hours larger groups were formed. It must have been close to four in the morning by now. During this time, the zombies stood silently before some of the larger buildings in the town central. Between us, in whispers barely above a breath, we discussed the ramifications of their method of communication and intelligence for they appeared to be waiting. Waiting for what, we did not know.
Without anything to mark the event, most of the groups we were watching slowly shuffled into the buildings. I don’t know about Jason, but that just freaked me out. I had been doing a scan, my eyes slowly moving up and down the street in front of us slightly out of focus to take it all in and it appeared to me as if they all moved at once. Oh no, this wasn’t good at all, I thought as we watched them disappear into the dark interiors of the buildings. I estimated in two hours at least a few hundred had come out of the woods and nearby rural streets. Where in fuck were they all coming from? My main theory had been answered. They were indeed moving in during the night, and then hiding. This was scary shit.
Wordlessly Jason and I exchanged glances. I turned to head back and stopped. Directly behind me was a small dog. A Border Collie or miniature Collie I think. All black or brown and white. It was sitting there just watching us. Moving very slowly I held out my hand. It came forward a couple of steps and sniffed at my outstretched fingers then licked them quickly before backing up several paces watching us. Then it struck me. I hadn’t seen any family pets since the virus outbreak. I had assumed they had been eaten by the zombies but I simply didn’t know. I never asked any of the refugees about their pets. It hadn’t occurred to me. But where there was one, there were more I was sure.
It whined in a very low tone, almost inaudible. Obviously, this dog recognized the need for silence. Then it took off running to the corner of the house and disappeared from view. I sighed rising from my crouch and nodding at Jason, we started back. The dog darted out from the corner as we moved away huffing at us. Jesus Christ I hoped it didn’t bark. I made calming gestures with my hands and it ran to the corner again, then ran back to us turning a couple circles and again ran to the corner looking back at us. I was intrigued. It was as if it wanted us to follow. Well I had read all the news stories about this kind of thing. So, we crept to the corner as it backup up. I looked around and saw nothing, but the dog ran another thirty or forty feet, and stopped waiting, while watching us. I glanced at Jason. He nodded. We followed.
Carefully taking advantage of every cover, we proceeded further into town. We were now three houses north from where we had originally hid while watching the zombies. The dog was at the back of this property at a row of hedges waiting. Shrugging, I ran in a crouch to its edge taking advantage of cover provided by some bushes. Another house was behind this one and, of course, another street. The canine led us forward. I crept out and was immediately surprised by two of the undead who had been standing motionless. Jesus, they were hard to spot in the dark when motionless. They advanced with that weird breathy whispering moan. It took only seconds; Jason and I took them down with machetes to the necks. I had quickly learned to swing just about as hard as possible. I needed the machete’s razor edge to cleanly cleave through the neck and tough vertebrae incased within in a single strike. Two heads bounced away and the bodies slumped boneless to the ground. I noticed one was a woman but it was too dark to see if her tits had been large. God, I am what I am, and even though I had been in some hot little Mexican only two hours ago, I still couldn’t help looking. I made a vow then and there that if things ever got back to normal I would at least consider counseling for a few minutes.
The house was typical and quite unremarkable from the others around it. Well, unless you counted the large pile of bodies off to one side in the backyard. Other than that, what made it stand out was the little doggie entrance inset within the back door. The Border Collie disappeared through the doggie door, then poked its head out of the flap seconds later watching us, waiting. Yeah we get it, we’re coming, I thought.
Easing the door open and stepping very quietly into the interior I found myself in a small room, another opening leading into a kitchen. A washer and dryer were across from me. A mudroom, as we called them here in Michigan. A place for shaking off the mud during warm months and snow during cold and of course that’s where most of us put our washer and dryer if not in the basement. It was a convenient location.
I saw the Collie at one of the cupboards. It had forced it open and was tugging at something inside. I advanced to the kitchen opening. Then my eyes widened beyond anything I ever thought possible. A small child crawled out. Oh My God, I think it was a boy and had to be all of two years old, maybe three. The child was petting the dog then straightened when he saw me. Moonlight shining through the kitchen windows showed me his scared visage and he quickly crouched behind the dog hugging it tightly. I saw him looking at me not saying a word.
“Hey, little man,” I whispered. He hugged the dog tighter, still not saying anything. I moved forward very slowly not making any sudden moves. I crouched mere feet away and held out my arms. Instinctively, I knew. I simply knew. It all hit me at once: the cupboard, a blanket, a couple bottles of water visibly lying on the ground nearby. His parents had hid him when the zombies attacked and the dog was his only companion. I knew we wouldn’t find his parents or if we did, they wouldn’t be what he was waiting for. I simply knew they had given their lives to protect their offspring. I sighed. It’s what we do after all. Who knew how many days he had been alone. Even in the cold, the place smelled and the boy only had a light shirt and pants on. Jesus. I stretched my arms out further and whispered urgently.
“Mommy and Daddy wanted me to come get you, little man.” The little boy perked up and mostly released the dog and stood straighter. His hand waved slightly.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, little man. But we have to be quiet. We have to whisper or not talk. Mommy is away and is waiting for you. She sent me to bring you to her. She needs her little man.” I was hoping like crazy he would come to me; my arms remained outstretched.
With a rush, he ran into my arms hugging me tightly. I held him as I hold my own. Tightly until they squirm. He squirmed and I slowly eased off my hug. He smelled of sour milk and dog food.
“Daddy.” he whispered, pointing with his tiny finger to the opening of a hallway leading away from the kitchen into the interior of the home. I slowly rose with the little guy in my arms, moving to the opening and looked. I almost cried at that point. I could easily see what happened. A large shape, what had once been human, was in the center of the short hallway with arms outstretched to the sides. I could see where the walls had been gouged in as his daddy dug through the sheetrock, gripping its supporting members to make a last stand against the horde. My heart and prayers went out to his soul. He had been successful after all. I didn’t know where his mommy was but I suspected the backyard, and the pile of bodies in the corner. It simply fit. You didn’t need to be psychic to see some things clearly. I ducked back into the kitchen and held the child against me. A figure loomed before me. It was Jason. He took everything in at a glance. God, I needed at least forty of him. I pointed upstairs and whispered, “clothes,” pointing at the child in my arms. He didn’t bother nodding, just took off in a stealthy glide.
How we made it back without being seen I’m not sure. I think God had a hand in it, protecting the young and the foolish, but we did. There were a couple of narrow escapes as the little guy rode on my back giggling occasionally. No amount of hushing could get him to stop. He was having fun. The first in days I suspected. I estimated he was two and a half and to this day, I’m surprised he survived. Jason had grabbed up a bunch of his warmer clothes from his room upstairs and stuffed them in several pillowcases. I had put his winter coat on him and off we went. Rosita took him from me when we finally arrived. Yeah, it was almost five in the freaking morning and she was still up. She cried when I described the scene within the house and just outside and hugged the little guy tightly. Miguel didn’t get any sleep and I didn’t see any coming my way either. Many people were up. I called a meeting. Jason and I had information to impart and our lives just became an order of magnitude busier.
We tried to make the back room work for the meeting. No go. It was too small and every room in the house had people sleeping in it. We went outside. God yes, it was cold.
Michael had lit two lanterns and we sat around the backyard fire pit, which some thoughtful soul had lit. I stood with my back to it enjoying the warmth it was starting to provide. Sure, I was worried about the light, but we were four-hundred feet back from the road surrounded by a dense stand of thick hardwoods and we already knew the creatures were more attracted to movement than lights.
“Alright folks, things just got busier but before I explain, Miguel, how many adults do we have?” His answer was almost sixty. Wow. Lots of refugees. I didn’t bother asking how many children as I knew it would be twice that at least. I saw earnest faces gazing at me waiting for what I had to tell them. Why they trusted me, I do not know.
“Any issues?” I inquired. He shrugged.
“A few, Señor Jay. Mostly some of the men not wanting to help guard or do chores. A few of the women also but I showed them the driveway and told them to leave if they didn’t and we are okay now.” I nodded. I had expected it. Some of these folks had never worked a day in their lives and had no conception of doing anything different. Good that Miguel had taken care of it. I’m positive he had been much nicer than I would have been.
“Okay, we have children out there hidden by their parents. Michael and I knew this would happen. We need to find them. This morning Jason and I rescued a two-year-old boy. You don’t want to see the inside of the house, trust me. It’s obvious his parents died hiding him. But where there’s one there’s more. We need more food, more Medicine, more everything. The zombies are much smarter than we thought and we think they have some means of communication. Jason, tell them what we saw tonight.”
Jason told the assembled men and women about our excursion. All of it. There were sharp intakes of breath when he related the zombies all walking in at the same time, and there were more than a few tears when he got to the rescue of the boy and the description of the hallway and backyard. They understood what we needed to do. Most important they understood the urgency. I relied on Miguel. I had quickly figured out he was much smarter than my main man Michael. I spelled it out for them. I needed as many teams as we could muster.
We had to empty out the two pharmacies in town and get those drugs under lock and key at RAC. I had no doubt some of these survivors were or had been drug addicts. They had the look. While my men were at it, they needed to empty out Pine Medical of anything useful. We needed a second generator. Lakes Energy had a big one that was 120/240 three phase. Perfect for our needs. There was some bitching about that. RAC already had one but I wanted a spare. We would need the additional power later. We also needed to get the fans turned on in the grain storage at RAC. There were upwards of three million bushels of wheat, corn and soybeans stored there. If the ventilation fans quit for any length of time it would quickly rot, even in this cold.
We had to empty out the grocery stores and restaurants in town like now and we had to start searching for survivors. Later after some sleep, I would lead a team to get fuel. We would need a lot of it to be viable. The fuel farm depot south of Grant would supply all our short-term fuel needs. The list went on and on. The supplies would be gathered and the empty rail cars at RAC would store any excess we couldn’t fit inside the main buildings.
Of special importance were the twelve feet concrete ‘T’ barriers I wanted assembled around RAC. I knew the Newaygo maintenance yard had a couple hundred of the damn things along with a flatbed truck to haul them and I wanted every single one a quarter mile away at RAC arrayed around the buildings. Years ago, I had seen a movie about a volcano erupting in downtown LA or somewhere. At four feet high and twelve feet wide, weighing two and a half tons each, the things stacked two high had kept the lava away, so I knew they could keep zombies at bay. I wanted a double row surrounding the complex. They could use the propane forklifts at RAC to move them. I also wanted every single forty-five foot electric pole from the LE electrical yards. They had hundreds and we would need them along with a line digger and pole truck. I was getting ready to fortify.
Each crew would be accompanied by a snowplow. My reason was simple that if the damn things could shove aside a six foot drift of heavy wet snow in winter, they could for sure move any number of zombies out of the way, no matter how determined the creatures were. With their low prows and rubber skirts, we didn’t have to worry about the dead-mother-fuckers getting underneath and jacking the trucks up. It was simple, really.
My gut told me we would continue to see more and more zombies as they migrated from the major cities. If we were going to get stuff, now was the time. I also dreaded the outbreak of violence or gangs of marauders. Those I also knew were coming to any community that advertised its ‘alive’ presence, as we were doing. Everything had to be done yesterday. We had no time to relax or we were done for. With a sigh, I passed the meeting onto Michael and Miguel leaving instructions to wake me in four hours, or less, if an emergency cropped up they couldn’t handle. I hoped to get that much sleep but I doubted it.
I knew sleep would be elusive when I dragged my tired ass into the bedroom, for my mind was moving in a millions directions at once. When I did, in the lamplight, I saw both girls sitting upright in bed still naked with the covers bunched around their waists smiling at me. A man does what a man needs to do I thought as I smiled back. So much to do and the day had just begun.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AVLL5XE (145,500 words)
Author information
Sean Liebling
Sean Liebling currently resides in Newaygo, Michigan with his family and is an avid shooter and outdoorsman. He served twice in the USMC, who incarcerated him in Beirut, Iraq, Panama, Somalia, and a few other places until he was barely discharged for good behavior.
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