Die Trying: A Zombie Apocalypse (8 page)

“So what’s the plan?” That was Harrigan. His voice sounded like he was across the huddle from me.

“We go sideways,” I said. “This is a long street. So we move a few houses along.
Maybe half a dozen – enough to be away from the helicopter and away from the field. Hopefully that will be far enough. We’ll find a place and hide up for the night.”

No one objected, so I got to my feet and moved a few yards back along the pathway towards the front of the house until I found a gap in the line of shrubs and bushes that must have
served as a nature fence between the next property. I clambered through with my jaw clenched, wincing at the sound of rustling leaves and twigs, and hoping that the storm would last long enough to mask our escape.

I waited on the other side of the bush until everyone was through and gathered around me. Jed was the last man. Then I
led them at a bent-over crouch past the front of the neighboring house, making use of the shadows and moving with slow deliberate steps, gritting my teeth as every new noise we made became an agonizing torture.

The lawns were sodden – the ground turned to mud. Every step was fraught with the danger of a twisted ankle or worse. It took agonizing minutes of strained tension until we had passed four houses, moving at some kind of a
n angle to the site of the helicopter crash.

The strain was unrelenting. There was not a single moment when I didn’t feel like I was one step away from death or danger. By the time we had passed two more houses I was a wreck of nerves to the po
int where I felt physically ill, and I knew I couldn’t go on much further.

I lifted my head. We were crouched in the dark shadow of a huge tree in the corner of a front yard. I could see the outline of an old car tire
suspended from a low branch and swinging from the end of a rope. I glanced towards the house, but it was simply too dark to tell anything other than it seemed to be high – maybe two stories. I went towards the shape of the building carefully.

As I got closer, small details began to fill in. It was brick. I could see the dark shape of a window, and then I stumbled into a garden – and walked into the side of a low cement wall. It was as high as my knee. I tried to clamber over it, and then realized it was a verandah. I stepped up into sudden shelter from the wind and the rain – and the
abrupt silence was ominous and eerie.

I waited for the others, and as I did I took tentative steps along the
porch. It was good to feel solid ground beneath my feet. We had sloshed in mud and grass for so long the muscles in my calves and thighs were burning. A full-length dark rectangle loomed out of the night as a pitch black shape.

“The door has been left
wide open,” I said in a whisper, and stepped cautiously towards the dark breach.

I smacked my face hard against cold glass.

I had walked into a window – not a door. It felt like I had broken my nose, and my eyes watered.

I heard Jed stifle a snigger.

The front door was a few feet further along.

It was locked.

Jed forced it open.

Chapter Three.

We stood in a small entry area and Harrigan quietly closed the door behind us. We were in a tight phalanx, with Jed and I at the front, Glocks drawn, and the man right behind us, his pistol thrusting out beside Jed. The girl was wedged between Harrigan and the man – and we stood frozen like that for long seconds, expecting and anticipating the night to come alive with dark vicious shapes.

The air was stale and thick with the stench of rotting decompositi
on. The taste of it painted the back of my throat like a coat of tar.

My hands were shaking – I was shivering from the cold
, and trembling from a new surge of nervous adrenalin. I fumbled in my pocket with my free hand and flicked on the cigarette lighter. I had two candles in the nylon bag on my back, but I daren’t light them. Not yet.

The lighter threw out a surprisingly bright glow that illuminated the area around us and gave me a chance to get my bearings.

We were in a small living room. There were a couple of recliner sofa chairs arranged around a blank television screen, and there were framed photos hanging on the wall beside us. There was the dark squat shape of an open fireplace in a nearby corner. The rest of the room faded off into dark gloom.

We stood, shivering and trembling, and dripping water onto the carpet for perhaps a minute before I took the first tentative steps into the room. I went sideways – to the
full-length window – and dragged the drapes across to shut out the light. The noise was loud in the silence and I felt myself wincing. The cigarette lighter went out. I quickly flicked it back on and turned to study the room proper. On the far side of the room was a narrow hallway, leading deeper into darkness. There were thick rugs on the floor, and a low timber side-table beside one of the chairs. The table was littered with tiny plastic bottles and a scatter of small colored tablets. There were more tablets spilled across the floor.

Sitting in the chair
, with her head thrown back against the padded upholstery, and her mouth wide open, was an elderly woman. I took three steps towards the sofa, my shoes sodden and squelching.

The woman was
quite dead.

Her eyes were open,
sunken deep into the skeleton of her face. Her skin was grey and drawn tight. She had been very old. There was a walking stick on the floor by her feet. She had been dead for quite some time – several days, if not a week or more. Her tongue was thick and swollen in her mouth, and the body had bloated. The stench of rotting meat from the corpse was sickly sweet and nauseating. Her clothes were filthy with her own fluids. I reeled away and turned back to the others.

“Dead woman,” I said softly. “Clinton, keep the girl there until I can find something to cover the body.”

There was another window in the room and I went to it and drew the curtains tightly together. Then I unslung the nylon bag and dropped to my haunches. I felt suddenly light – like I was floating on the air. I hadn’t realized how heavy the bag had been. I felt a burning ache in my shoulders where the thin straps had rubbed my skin raw, but I ignored the pain and fetched one of the candles from the bag. I lit it and waited until the flame flickered and glowed into life.

The light was tentative and uncertain – but it was better than stumbling around in the dark. The candle flame flared more brightly, and cast soft dark shadows onto the walls. But more than the light, it provided comfort – some primitive instinctive sense, I suppose.

I carried the candle with me and got as far as the opening to the hallway. Then I turned back to where the rest of the group stood waiting.

“Jed. Come with me.”

He loomed out of the gloom, swarthy and grim-faced, but there was a strange, pained look in my brother’s eyes. I didn’t say anything. I simply turned and headed down the passage with him close behind me.

We prowled the hallway, my gun held stiff-armed out in front of me, my whole body twisting left and r
ight from the hips as we crept through the house.

There was a n
eat little kitchen, a laundry, a bathroom, and a couple of bedrooms. We went through the house drawing every curtain tightly closed.

The first bedroom
we found was packed with stored pieces of furniture, all covered with heavy white sheets. I dragged one of the sheets off an antique-looking wardrobe and slung it over my shoulder.

There were two more dead bodies in the
second bedroom.

A man and a woman.

They might have been in
their forties. It was hard to tell. They were lying in the bed. The woman’s face had been shattered by a single gunshot. The bullet had torn up through her jaw and ripped the top of her skull open. Blood, thick clumps of gore, and tufts of blonde hair were spattered across the wall and the bedhead. Blood soaked the sheets.

Beside her was the body of a man. Maybe it was her husband. It looked like he had thrust a gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger. He had fallen sideways, so that his body was
lying slumped across the woman’s. Both the bodies were bloated with gases, and the air in the room was rancid. I saw a little silver revolver on the bedroom floor, close beside the bed.

While Jed stood in the doorway, I ransacked the wardrobes and bedside chests of drawers for clothes. I dumped them
hurriedly at the door to the bathroom and then we took the candle back into the kitchen and searched every cupboard. There were cans of soup, beans, and ham in a pantry, beside a full carton of soda. There were more cans of soda in the refrigerator.

Enough food and drink to last several days.

I sighed my relief, and then
carried the dust sheet back through to the living room and covered the old woman. Then Jed and I dragged her body down the hallway and left it lying in the laundry. We pulled the door shut.

I
set the first candle on the living room floor, then took the second one from the bag and lit it. I handed it to Jed and he perched it on top of the television set. The flare from the two small flickering flames was enough to cast the entire room in a dim warm glow. Harrigan, the girl and the man peeled away from the darkness of the foyer and slumped with weary exhaustion to the ground.

“
There’s plenty of food, and plenty to drink in the kitchen,” I said softly. “And I’ve found clothes,” I added. “I’ve left them at the door to the bathroom.” I turned to the girl and stared at her. Her long dark hair was plastered flat to her skull in messy tangles, and her face was drawn and very pale. She looked very small and fragile. It was the first time I had taken notice of her. I guessed she was maybe fifteen years old. She had dark, sad eyes. “I don’t think anything will fit very well, but at least you will be dry. Take the candle with you and get changed. You can’t stay in those wet clothes.”

The girl glanced to her father and I saw him nod. Then she got to her feet and took the candle from the television. She took two tentative steps towards the darkness, and then stopped. She turned back.

“Come with me,” she said to her father, her voice timid and fearful. “Just to the end of the hall.”

The man nodded and got to his feet. He followed the girl, gun drawn, and I watched the tiny soft glow of the candle in her hands fade as she disappeared deeper into the house.

Jed, Harrigan and I sat in absolute silence, staring down into the flame of the candle between us, each of us lost in our own thoughts. It wasn’t a numbed, horrified silence – not for me at least. I was contemplative. I’m not a Rhodes scholar, and I don’t have a university education – but I’m not a fool. I’ve learned enough about life to be wary, and how to read subtle signs. Some of the signals I was getting from the man and girl made me suspicious. But not suspicious enough to voice my concerns – not until I’d had the time to ask questions and to get answers.

And I had a lot of questions.

I glanced across at Jed. He was staring back at me with dark eyes. The light from the candle leaped and flickered so that his expression looked wicked and malevolent.

Jed
I understood. I could read
his
thoughts – see the anger simmering behind my brother’s eyes. I realized it was something I was going to have to deal with, probably sooner rather than later.

But not yet.

Not while we were still in danger. Not while I was still useful.

I held Jed’s gaze, but I couldn’t match his intensity. He was grimacing with pain from his swollen jaw, but beneath that agony, his hatred was clear, boiling just below the surface, waiting to erupt.

Harrigan
seemed to sense the tension between Jed and me. He looked quizzical. He glanced a question at me but I ignored him.

“Your jaw looks worse,” I said to Jed. “More swollen. You look sick.”

He didn’t say anything for a long while. Then he finally grunted. “It’s all right.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” I said. “Then as soon as you change into dry clothes, you can pull sentry duty at the back door for a few hours. One of us will relieve you later in the night.”

Jed balked – and I sensed bitter words leap into his mouth. But he clamped his jaw shut, simmering, and got to his feet. “I’ll start now,” he said, and disappeared down the hallway without another word.

Harrigan
glanced at me again. “Did I miss something between you two?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to answer – this wasn’t the time to go into it – but in the end, I couldn’t help myself. Somehow the words just spilled out.

“Jed’s going to kill me,” I said suddenly, my expression as dark as the night. “My brother is going to kill me as soon as we get to safety.”

Harrigan
flinched in stunned silence.

He gaped at me.
“Are you serious?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“But why?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

Harrigan leaned forward, and his voice was a hushed conspiratorial whisper. “Are you really serious? You’re not making this up?”

“I wish I were,” I said, and leaned heavily back against the wall. I stared at
Harrigan and held his gaze. “I mean it.”

“Why?”

“Because I killed his wife and child,” I said, and my gaze went down to the bright little flame of the candle, and my mind drifted back to the first days of the apocalypse. I sighed, seeing the bloody horror in my mind once more – scenes of madness and terror that haunted me in my sleep.

I glanced up at
Harrigan. His eyes were wide, his expression confused.

“Jed had been in prison,” I said. “Not for anything as simple as stealing candy bars
, either. He was there for murder,” I said flatly. “It was an armed robbery that went wrong. He shot a man and did eleven hard years.  He was released the day before the world went to hell and the zombie virus started sweeping down the east coast.” I took a deep breath and then went on. “I was supposed to look after his family while he was inside. He had a wife, and a baby girl. He went to prison before the girl was born. He’d never even seen her. I was taking care of them. I helped with the bills, mowed the lawn – that kind of thing,” I said carefully. “I was watching over them until he got out. He was on his way home – taking the overnight bus. I went to the Greyhound station to pick him up – and by the time we got back into town, we could see streets on fire and hear sirens. The cops had the roads blocked off, and the army was moving in a convoy of trucks and armored vehicles. There were helicopters swarming all across the sky. They were strafing the streets.

“
We tried to go round the roadblock. We went cross-country, but I crashed the car and we had to hike the rest of the way. It took us three days. By the time we reached his house, they were gone. His wife and child. The door had been broken in – windows smashed. We found blood on the walls, but nothing else.”

“Infected?”
Harrigan asked softly.

I nodded. “I guess so. Or torn to pieces. I honestly don’t know. All I know is they weren’t there, and Jed blamed me. He blamed me for not taking them to the depot to meet him. He blamed me for leaving them alone. And
then he vowed to kill me.”

Harrigan
shook his head. “But he never said anything to me. Not in all the time I was in that house with you. Not once. I mean, sure, I saw the way he looked at you sometimes, and I knew he had an attitude, Mitch – but I thought that was just a brotherly thing. You know. I had no idea he wanted you dead. Are you sure he’s serious?”

I smiled wryly. “It’s family business,” I said, and my voice was tight and heavy. “It’s a feud. It’s between him and me.
And yes – I’m sure he’s serious.”

Again
Harrigan shook his head. “But why didn’t he kill you there and then?” he asked macabrely. “If he blames you and hates you, why are you still alive?”

“Because we were in the middle of bloody Hell,” I said. “He neede
d me. We found a car and got away. Made it as far south as this town before the car gave out. Made it to the house – and were there ever since. You see, he’s waiting. He’s waiting until we’re clear of the infected areas, or until the army gets control of the plague and starts to fight back. He’s waiting until he doesn’t need me anymore,” I explained. “That’s when he’s going to kill me.”