Fallen Grace (4 page)

The door to the safe room slammed shut as Nate and Gus rejoined us.

“Fuck!” shouted Nathan. “What was that shit?”

“It was hunting the dead,” I said solemnly. I looked at Gus worriedly.

“Zoe, are there any more out there?” Boggs asked prudently.

I shook my head side to side. “Not that I can sense.”

“We need to leave this place,” said Bobby from behind us. “It just feels evil here.”

“Agreed,” said Gus. “But Susan’s in no shape to be moved. Fuck it. I need to think. The car battery’s dead.”

“There’s cars in town,” said Abbey. “We could take her away from here if we had a way to move her, right?”

“Good thinking, Abs,” said Nathan. “We could pull a rig up right to the door. That way we wouldn’t have to move her far.”

“I think one of you two needs to explain what the fuck you meant about that blob fucker targeting Gus,” said Boggs. He wasn’t trying to hide the anger in his voice and he was clearly speaking to me and Gus.

I looked at Gus and focused on sending him a message. We need to tell them.

I’ll do it, he echoed my thought.

“Last night we discovered my heart’s not beating.”

“What the fuck?” said Nate, who was perched beside Susan. “And you’re still walking and talking?”

“Ayup. I feel fine, in fact.”

“The creature out there. It was some sort of hunter. It went after the dead. When it saw Gus, well, it thought he was one of them.”

“Fucked up,” said Boggs. “Gus? Do you feel like you’re a danger to us?”

Gus sighed heavily. “No. But, if it comes to that, I’ll speak up.”

“Fair enough,” said Nathan.

“And what was up with the dead kids?” asked Bobby.

“I’m not sure. Till now it’s just been the Runners and Roamers. They were…something else.” I wasn’t sure how else to explain them. “They were smart, and you heard them. They could speak.”

“I want to leave here,” said Abbey. She suddenly sounded younger than her years. I looked over at her and she looked so scared. “I wanna go somewhere safe.”

I had no answers for her.

Gus walked to Susan. “How’s she looking?” he addressed Nathan.

“Not good. She’s pale. At least she’s sleeping.”

“Boggs? How are you feeling, brother?”

“Better.” He held his shirt up so that we could see his already healing wound. “Just a little weak.”

“Good. I want to head into town; find a new rig. I don’t want to leave Susan or Abbey alone, though. Think you’re up to staying here with them?”

“I don’t like it; splitting up again.” Boggs paused to think. “But I think it’s our only option.”

“Nate? Do you want to come with or stay here with Susan and Abs?”

“I need to stay here, man. I can’t leave Susan like this.”

Gus put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. “As much as I’d like to have you covering my back, I admit I’ll feel better if you’re here to tend to her. Zoe, I’ll need you with me.”

“Of course.”

“I can come too,” offered Bobby. “I’m not the best shot in the world, but it makes sense to have at least three of us.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” I said. “We should get going.”

“But how will you get there?” asked Abbey.

“We’ll be walking a bit, Abs. Hopefully we’ll be back within a day or two. You all have enough supplies down here to last a couple weeks. Nate, Boggs, if we’re not back within four days I think you should risk leaving. Even if it’s just to another building nearby.”

“Bobby, come help me pack the backpacks?” I suggested.

“
Yeah, sure.”

We walked to the supply shelf and retrieved three backpacks. They were already full of emergency supplies, but we emptied them and sorted what was inside. We wanted to travel light, so focused on ammo, water, and dried fruit and nuts. We also added some emergency thermal blankets; the thin metallic kind. I added a hatchet to each pack as well.

“We’re ready, Gus,” I mumbled while loading my pistol.

“You girls still have room in your packs?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do me a favor and empty mine out; split it between your two packs. I want to fill mine up with tools for salvaging a car.”

“Sure. No prob.”

Bobby and I set to work while Gus sorted through a small tool box. It took all of five minutes for him to prepare. He rolled the metal tools in between strips of towels to keep them quiet on the journey. We made our good-byes brief since evening would soon be upon us.

***

We headed north-east at a brisk pace. We did our best to keep quiet, not speaking unless it became necessary. I kept my mind focused, which wasn’t easy after the morning’s events. Seeing my baby in her state of decay was beyond difficult. From the plume of smoke, I assumed Gus had lit her corpse on fire. I didn’t ask.

The first couple of miles went by without incident. When we got to the edge of the town of Neah Bay proper, I sensed dead nearby.

“Gus, Bobby, there’s Roamers close by,” I whispered.

“We need to save ammo. Think we can get them with hatchets?” asked Bobby.

“Probably,” I answered. “Here’s your chance.”

I pointed to a shambling and badly decayed Roamer walking in our general direction.

“I got this one,” she said as she approached it.

We each had a hatchet that hung from a loop we had fashioned on the backpacks. Bobby had taken hers out and held it at her side. As she came face-to-face with the rotten corpse, she raised the weapon and stopped mid-air. I watched her, not sure what she was doing. She took a few steps back as the creature raised its nose to the air and sniffed.

“It can’t see me!” she cried out followed by a slight laugh. “The bastard can’t see me!”

She began circling the creature, confusing it. She was faster than the animated carcass and was acting like a kid playing a game.

“C’mon, Bobby. Kill the fucker already,” said Gus.

“Another one. Behind you, Gus,” I warned.

I turned to face the new arrival. This Roamer seemed fresher than the one Bobby was playing with. It groaned as it sensed fresh meat. It still had color in its clothing and was obviously a woman. Her black hair was long and snarled. She didn’t look wounded but was pale and her skin dirtied. Her dress was not fitting of the season, boasting spaghetti straps and ending just above her knees. She was still bloated from death, making the dress look comically too small for her body. Gus ran up to her, swinging his hatchet at her neck. The blow didn’t go through cleanly as it might on TV or in the movies, but rather got stuck somewhere in her spine. The strike was strong enough to sever the nerves that went from her brain to the rest of her body. She fell to the paved street. Her head lay awkwardly to one side, still half attached. A black substance that I had begun to think of as ‘Zombie Life Blood’ pooled beneath her. Her jaws continued to pathetically work themselves in search of food. Gus put one of his large boots on the side of her head and pulled the hatched from her spine with an audible snapping followed by a nauseating slurp. He then used the weapon to split her face, giving her the chance to finally rest at peace.

I looked back to Bobby, wondering if she might need help. She was still walking circles around the blind zombie, tormenting it. Approaching her was another Roamer. I walked up to her and pulled her back.

“Seriously, stop playing,” I said, a bit irritated.

She rolled her eyes at me dramatically. “Ok, ok.”

Sensing the creature just behind her, she turned and swung her own hatchet at its head. It was an easy kill. Its head disintegrated from the blow. The rest of it fell apart as it hit the ground.

“Ew, gross. That one was dry,” she said.

“Better dry than sludgy,” I said as she began moving toward the next one. Once she reached it, she kicked at its torso, causing it to fall onto its backside. She jumped onto its chest. As it began thrashing about in an attempt to get up, she brought the machete down onto the top of its head. It grew still in short order.

“Ok, girls, let’s get off the streets for now,” said Gus as he approached us.

The sun was quickly approaching the west horizon, casting long shadows around us. This area of town boasted a few small buildings and a lot of empty parking lots. I didn’t see any vehicles around aside from a large silver and black crew cab pickup that was facing the wrong direction and upside down. .

“Gus?” I called to him quietly.

“What babe?”

“That truck. Do you think it’d be usable if we could get it flipped over?” I pointed at the monster.

“Well, probably not. If you look carefully at the frame you’ll see the cab is about six inches shorter than it ought to be. Even if it did run, we’d have to reinforce the broken-out windows, the entire open bed, and even then that truck weighs way more than it looks. Really no way to flip it over. Good thinking, though.”

“Thanks. Sorry if it was a stupid idea.”

Bobby rolled her eyes at me again. I liked that she was feeling more comfortable with us. I hip-bumped her and began walking again. “C’mon. I don’t sense any more of them.”

“Let’s hunker down in one of the buildings for the night,” suggested Gus.

“That one there,” I pointed to the tallest of the buildings on the street. “Hopefully it has a second story. I think that’d be safest.”

It turned out to be a trinket shop; an old converted house. The siding was painted in rainbow graffiti of sorts. On either side were a kite shop and an ice cream parlor. The front door was locked, of course.

“I’ll try the windows,” said Bobby.

“We’ll go together,” I echoed.

We set out as a group of three. We hugged the closest side of the building. It was only a couple of feet from the kite shop, making the walkway extremely narrow. The roof of the trinket shop actually overhung the other building by a few inches. Gus had to walk sideways to fit. There were two windows on this side; one was identical to the other aside from being boarded up. We all paused at the same time when we heard the faint clinging of metal nearby.

Gus put his finger to his lips in warning. I had put my hatchet away so quickly retrieved it. It’d be a backup if Gus got into trouble. I knew already that he’d naturally take the lead. He pointed to the back of the building and Bobby and I followed him. It opened to a small clearing that must have at one time been a backyard. It was now full of overgrown weeds and scrap metal. A metal trash can lid was lying on the ground, still wobbling from falling. A raccoon was scurrying away along the top of the rickety wooden back fence.

“See over there,” Gus whispered while pointing to a machine about the size of a small refrigerator.

“What is it?” Bobby asked.

“Looks like an ARC welder. It’ll be heavy, but once we find a vehicle we need to come back for it. Might come in real handy at some point, if we could find a way to power it.”

“It feels creepy here. Let’s get inside. I’ll try the back door,” I offered.

Before Gus could argue, I walked briskly to the back steps and ascended them two at a time. There were only six, plus the landing. The wood planks were old and weathered. I stopped with my hand on the door knob and listened with my mind, which found no worrisome signatures of the dead. I turned the knob and found it to be unlocked. It caught a few inches into opening, due to a chain lock. The air inside was escaping toward me, carrying with it a stale smell that was refreshingly lacking any odors of the dead. I listened, this time with just my ears. All was silent.

Gus had joined me on the porch and Bobby was halfway up the stairs waiting for our next move.

“Step back, darlin’. I’ll get it.”

I shimmied around him, our hands brushing against each other lightly as I did so. It was like gentle static electricity that sent my heart speeding. I backed up as much as I could to give him space to work.

“Want me to grab tools out of your pack?”

He looked at me a bit blankly, for just a couple seconds too long, and I blushed realizing I must have asked a stupid question.

“No thanks, darlin’, this should be easy.” He winked at me for good measure.

I watched as he stood sideways and slammed himself against the door. The chain broke easily, and the door flung fully open.

“Show off,” I muttered sarcastically.

As he chuckled, I walked past him into the building. Like many homes of this style and age, we entered into a kitchen of sorts. It had surely once been a family residence and the sink remained, but it looked like it was used mostly as an office. A desk sat where a breakfast nook might have once been. The floor was old brown linoleum that was wearing through where foot traffic had been the heaviest. A small refrigerator sat upon the remains of a counter top. I had shoved my pistol into my waist band after making sure the chamber was empty, and now held my hatchet. The last thing we needed was to attract a horde with unnecessary noise. With some luck we’d be able to sleep in relative safety for a few hours.