Amongst the Dead (19 page)

Riley and the others eventually made it out of the city and began the trek along the rural roads leading home.
 

When George was alive, he’d made sure specific protocols were put into effect. And that everyone knew what to do in certain situations, like an assault on the house, which besides a zombie attack, was the event George had feared the most. Coming back home could prove to be a dangerous prospect. Gang members knew were they lived. They would have to stay in the panic bunker.
 

The panic bunker was a small fifteen by twelve-foot space dug out of earth. Wood planks were used to line the walls and floor, helping to support the structure. An assortment of foods, medical supplies and a small kerosene heater were kept in the bunker. The place reminded Riley of the pit under her cabin back at Roscoe, bringing back both joyous and heart-wrenching memories.
 

The bunker was cramped, small for three people, and Riley wondered how it would’ve been if another person was with them. When she thought about whom the other person would’ve been she realized it would have been just fine, welcomed in fact.
 

The air was damp and the walls felt cool to the touch, helping to keep the cramped quarters’ temperature comfortable.
 

No one left the shelter, keeping themselves occupied by playing checkers, Monopoly—stashed there by Eric some time ago—and card games using one of three sets of playing cards. George had thought of everything, knowing if the shelter was to be used that it needed to be more than just a place to hide.
 

They stayed there for a week, Riley acting as the group’s scout, sneaking through the woods to look in on the cabin for signs of hostiles.
 

When it seemed safe, the bunker’s occupants desperately wanting out of the underground hovel, they moved back into the house. Most likely the majority of the gang was either dead or dispersed amongst the city and running for their survival, not thinking about some log cabin deep in the countryside. And in truth, only a few knew the location of the house.
 

The remains of George’s body, along with the other rotted corpses, were removed from the premises. The task was grueling, bringing cries of emotional pain from Joanne and Riley upon placing George’s remains in a large box. Eric wasn’t permitted to see his father’s corpse; Joanne feeling it would serve no good to do so, wanting her son to remember his father whole and beautiful. He was buried in the backyard, near the forest’s edge, and marked with a heavy piece of stone. It was a sad and sobering day, but they all got through it.
 

It took a few days—the gang members having smashed picture frames, furniture and a number of items—but the house was eventually cleaned. Spilled cereal that had shriveled into hard inedible bits were swept up and tossed out. Blood stains, like stationary ghosts, were scrubbed away, leaving bare spots like scars on flesh.
 

Not only had the gang trashed the house, but they had taken a large amount of food supplies. One of the most devastating losses was the livestock—either dead from starvation, slaughtered, or simply nowhere to be found. Hunting and foraging had to suffice until some other measure could be had.
 

The only plus, besides being alive, were the weapons and ammo. Having been hidden well around the house, the gang hadn’t found many of the guns or explosives. Riley and the Milners would at least be well armed.
 

Within a month, life was finally returning to normal. Patrols were kept around the clock, with each family member performing the task on a twenty-four-hour clock for the first month. It was a difficult but necessary precaution.
 

At this time, Joanne thought it best to discuss their time in the city. They’d all been through a terrible ordeal and healing would come through talking; getting out the bad and learning to move past their woes.
 

Joanne had been held in the whorehouse. Most females were older, but there were younger ones too—the Hag not wanting them for one reason or another.
 

Joanne had been used sexually by numerous men and beaten regularly. She kept that part of her nightmare from Eric, only telling Riley what had happened. After speaking about it, she said she never wanted it to be brought up again. She’d broken down into tears many times throughout the first couple of weeks back at the house and during the telling of her story, but never in front of her son.
 

Joanne explained how she escaped. How she fooled one of the gang members into thinking she fancied him, making him believe that she wanted to be one of them. She had to do things—horrible things, like beat on the other women and perform the most heinous sexual acts to reinforce her façade, but it had worked. The man had brought her to his bunk where she got a hold of a weapon and forced him to tell her where they were keeping her son and daughter. After which she blew his head off. From there she killed a number of men, working her way to the whorehouse where she freed the women, handing out arms to as many as she could.
 

All hell had broken out. People were everywhere, fleeing. Gunshots rang out and screams of anger and pain followed. Joanne was a killing machine with one purpose: to get her kids and escape from the city. Eric was being held nearby in the recruits’ quarters. Joanne shot the two guards stationed there, killing them.
 

After freeing Eric, they worked their way to the explosives room, where Eric had been on numerous occasions as part of his work detail. They grabbed a couple bundles of dynamite and blew a section of the Sisters’ wall open before heading to Riley.
 

Joanne needed more than fleeing prisoners to help with her escape plan and hungry zombies would serve her purpose well, keeping the gang members occupied. From there, as they say, it was all history.
 

Eric took the longest to talk. He’d become stone-like in sharing his feelings, but eventually he’d come around. He was put in with new recruits, but was the youngest by ten years except for one other boy his age, but he’d only come in a day before their escape.
 

Eric had been bullied, beaten and picked on repeatedly. Some of the men had tried having their way with him, but he’d been able to fight them off and survive. Like Joanne, he’d suffered. Cigarette burns covered his flesh, cuts from knives marked his skin and his back had deep scars from lashings that had been given. He’d been taught how to shoot and kill with a blade. He’d been decent with a gun beforehand, George having worked with him on his skills, but Eric had improved since. Torture for missing a target was a great tool for getting the boy to try harder, as the gang had put it.
 

Riley shared her story last, leaving out the part about getting bitten by the zombie. She spoke about everything else, realizing if things had progressed further than they did, that she would be eyeless and with child from some pig. She shivered as she told her tale, breaking down into tears unexpectedly.
 

“I didn’t want to tell you guys,” she said. “I had it kind of easy compared to you two.” She wiped tears from her face with her sleeve.
 

“No, no, sweetie,” Joanne told her, rubbing her back. “We all had horrible experiences, and who’s to judge what was worse and what was better. The important thing is that we’re all here, alive and well.”
 

As another week went by, Riley began having dreams about being bitten, but in her dreams she grew sick and became a member of the undead. The image of being bitten weighed heavily on her mind. She needed to share it will someone and decided to tell Joanne what had happened. Would she believe her? She worried about that, but the need to get out what had happened was greater than her ability to keep it in.
 

“I have something to tell you,” Riley said to Joanne when Eric was out patrolling the grounds. They sat on the living room couch sipping cups of hot water with honey mixed in, the closest thing to tea they could find.
 

“Sounds serious,” Joanne said, placing her cup on the nicked-up coffee table.
 

Riley told her again about her escape over the wall before adding, “I was bitten by a zombie on the other side. It grabbed my ankle and sunk its teeth into me and was gnawing at my flesh.”
 

Joanne sat still, unmoving as if frozen in place. She only blinked. “What?” she finally said, shaking her head as if to clear a fog from it.
 

Riley pulled up her pant leg, revealing the wound. It was mostly healed, but would scar, making the unforgettable memory even more permanent.
 

“Riley,” Joanne gasped, holding her hands to her face. “That’s…impossible. Are you sure it wasn’t a dream? Maybe one of the men did it?”
 

“It happened,” Riley said.
 

“Are you sure the zombie had teeth?”
 

“Joanne,” Riley said, her voice serious. “I watched as the thing tore into me, drawing blood, chewing on me.”
 

“How…can that be?” Joanne asked, her face bewildered. The woman seemed to be deep in thought, as if remembering something.
 

“What is it?” Riley asked.
 

“It’s what you told me the old woman said about you.”
 

“The Hag?”
 

“Yes. She said you were special, right? Going to breed a new human race?”
 

“She was crazy,” Riley said, nerves beginning to take hold. “You’re scaring me, Joanne.”
 

“We, George and I, never told you this, but you have a tattoo on the back of your neck.”
 

“What?” Riley said, confused. “A tattoo?”
 

“Yes. It’s a set of numbers and a black line, almost like the strip on the back of a credit card, at least that’s what it reminded me of.”
 

“A tattoo? On me? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Riley had to see it and hurried to the bathroom. Joanne lifted Riley’s hair out of the way and held a handheld mirror up so Riley could see her back in the bathroom’s main mirror. Her eyes went wide as she rubbed a finger over it. “What the hell is this?”
 

“I have no idea, but George and I noticed it after we found and cleaned you up. We thought you were a bit young for a tattoo, but in this crazy world we didn’t assume anything was weird. And now with what you’re telling me about the bite and this tattoo looking like some kind of marker… Well, I don’t know what the hell to think now.”
 

Riley let her hair down. “The Hag was a crazy old bat, but she kept going on and on about how special I was. I was the world’s savior according to her. I thought she was crazy, and still do, but after surviving the bite…” She trailed off, not knowing what else to say. And why the hell hadn’t her father told her that she’d had a tattoo? Had he given it to her?
 

Joanne placed a hand on Riley’s leg. “Look,” she said, catching Riley’s stare. “There are a couple of things that I do know. First, we know that those people were crazy. You agree with me there?” Riley nodded. “And second, I know that we’re here, all three of us and no worse for the wear. We survived. We made it.” Joanne was almost gleeful now as if she really believed in her words. “And no matter what happened I’m glad you’re alive and with us, Riley. That’s what I know.”
 

Riley wanted to feel the way Joanne did, but simply did not. She kept hearing the Hag’s voice echo in her head and seeing the zombie bite her ankle. She couldn’t let it go, but for now she would give Joanne what she needed—a happy and stable family.
 

Chapter Fifteen
 

The Decision
 

Riley dreamed of the lab room and the scientists again. The dream was more vivid this time. Everything was crisp as if she was looking through a portal to another dimension.
 

The room bustled with activity like in her previous dream. But unlike before, each person was distinguishable. Some were balding; others had mustaches, while others wore glasses.
 

Riley was sitting on a table in the middle of the room. She wore only a light blue gown. Looking around the room, she saw a number of other children. She shivered, as if the room were air-conditioned. She tried speaking, but only gobbledygook, baby talk came out.
 

The scientist that was her favorite was standing before her with other scientists to the left and right of him. They all looked pleased, wearing smiles and nodding their heads as if they’d succeeded at something. Riley noticed a gash on her arm suspiciously resembling a bite mark. It didn’t hurt, but it frightened her. She tried asking what it was but only baby talk escaped her mouth again.
 

“We’ve done it,” the scientist she liked the most said.
 

She was surprised she could understand them, even though she couldn’t talk herself.
 

“Success is ours,” another man said. “And soon the human race will be saved.” The man’s voice was gleeful and the others around him began clapping.
 

“Have all the others that were given the drug been put to death and revived?” the scientist that she liked the most asked.