Flesh-Eater (Book 1): Fear the Fever (7 page)

H
e sat there, unable to move.  He had just shot his mother.  The woman who had raised him.  The woman who would have done anything for him, even when it cost her her life.

Her lifeless body lay nearby, the top of her head gone.  Her eyes were still open, staring straight at him.  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her haunting stare.  If he could have traded places with her, he would have, in a heartbeat.

Fat tears rolled slowly down his cheeks, mingling with the scattered drops of rain, echoing his mood.

He had killed his mother.

And his father.

In less than a few hours, he had lost both of his parents, and by his own hands.  An overwhelming sadness crept over him as his tears turned into racking sobs.

“Zeke?” Millie said softly, kneeling down beside him.  She wrapped a slender arm around his neck, pulling him gently in to her.  He didn’t fight it, he couldn’t.  He clutched his arms around her so tightly, as if his life depended on it.  She cradled him in her arms, rubbing circles on his back and humming a gentle lullaby.  Slow, silent tears fell from her eyes as she too felt the gravity of it all.

“I’m so sorry you had to do that,” she whispered.  “You had no choice, Zeke.  You know that, right?  You did the right thing.”

“Did I?” he asked.  “She was still her,” he said, his voice muffled against her now wet dress.  His sobs had slowed to small hiccups.

“Zeke…”

“She spoke to me.  She told me to run.”  He looked up at her.  “I think she was still in there.”  He tapped his finger to the side of his head then turned to look back at Mary.  “Somewhere.”

Millie was at a loss for words, so she just nodded.  They sat in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, until Zeke pulled himself upright, wiping his sleeve across his eyes.  He couldn’t just sit here doing nothing.

“We shouldn’t stay here.  We need to warn people.”  He stood, holding his hand out to Millie.  “Come on, we’ll get some supplies then we’ll head back to town.”

“Zeke?”  Millie held back.  “I have to see my family, make sure they’re okay first.”

Zeke felt bad, he had been so caught up in his own nightmare that he had completely forgotten about her family.

“Of course we can.  You must be so worried,” he said gently.  “Just let me throw some things in a bag, then we’ll go see them.”  He gave her hand a squeeze before jogging back to the house.

He burst through the door, heading straight for the cupboard by the entry.  He grabbed his backpack and another shotgun, with a box of ammo.  Having never been in a situation like this before, he wasn’t sure what they needed, but the number one priority was protection.  There was no telling how many of these ‘things’ were out there.

He ran to the kitchen, grabbing a knife and some scissors, wrapping them in a towel before adding to the bag.  He found a torch and some matches and threw those in too.  Scanning the cupboards, he grabbed some cans of food, just in case.  He filled some water bottles too, slotting them into the side pouches of the bag.  It could be a while before they found their way back here, if at all.

Walking down the hall to his room, he grabbed another bag from under his bed and began piling in extra clothes and a pair of shoes.  He saw his pocket knife on the dresser and took that too.  Looking around to check if he had everything he needed, he said a silent goodbye to his room.

He paused outside the door to his parents’ bedroom.  Pushing the door open slightly, he slipped through and grabbed the framed photo Mary kept on her bedside cabinet.  It was one of the three of them taken only a few months ago.  He stuffed it into his bag, and hefted it onto his shoulder, making his way out to Millie.

She was pacing back and forth on the porch, shotgun clutched to her chest.  She jumped, nearly dropping the gun, when he walked out the door.

“Oh!  You scared me!” she said, hand on her chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, taking the gun from her shaking hands.  “Here, can you take this?”  He handed her the lighter of the two bags, while he juggled the two guns and the other backpack.

“Why do we need so much stuff?” she asked, her eyes wide.  He sometimes forgot how innocent she was.

“We don’t know how bad it is out there.”  He gestured across the fields.  “We need to be prepared for the worst.”  He didn’t think it possible, but her eyes widened even more, fresh tears brimming.  “Don’t worry, it’s just a precaution.  You’ll be safe with me, I promise.  I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Millie nodded, putting her arms through the straps of the bag.  She had no reason to doubt him.  She had been attacked twice in one day and Zeke had saved her both times.  Being with him was by far the safest place for her to be.

She reached out and took one of the guns in her hand, then clasped his hand with the other.  Taking one final look back at his mother, Zeke led Millie towards the creek that bordered their two farms, praying that they would reach it in time.

T
he smell of chocolate cake wafted through the house as Harper pulled the baking dish out of the oven.  She had been busy all morning making cakes of various shapes and sizes for the fundraiser cake stall.  There was virtually no bench space left in the tiny kitchen, so she placed this one on the table to cool.  She then whipped up a batch of vanilla buttercream for the strawberry cake she had made earlier.  The chocolate cake was the only one left to be iced and then she would be done for the day.

She wiped down the benches, loaded the dishwasher and switched it on.  The remaining dishes could wait until she had made the last batch of buttercream.

Having a few moments to spare, she raked her fingers through her hair, pulling it back into a messy ponytail and headed outside for some fresh air.  She hopped down the steps and wandered over to the flower garden she had planted with Millie.  The wind from earlier in the week had blown them about a bit, but there didn’t appear to be much damage.  The rain they had been expecting, had barely eventuated.  She grabbed the watering can and gave the flowers a light sprinkle to perk them up.

She walked around to the back of the house, checking on the washing that was on the line.  She began unpegging the clothes and throwing them in the basket.  A flock of birds flew overhead, making the dogs bark.

Resting the basket on her hip, she started walking back to the front of the house to take it inside.

The dogs were still barking.  And now growling too.

Harper dropped the basket at the door, deciding to investigate.  It was unusual for them to behave that way.

She rounded the corner to where their kennels were.  She couldn’t see anybody lurking around.  Perhaps they had just seen a mouse.

“What’s all that noise then?” she asked as she got closer.  They continued growling and pawing at the ground near the back corner of the kennel.  “What is it?” she asked again, crouching down to see if she could spot whatever was upsetting them.

There was a rustle in the field which caught her attention.  It definitely wasn’t a mouse, they didn’t make that much noise.  She carefully unlocked the kennel and swung the door open.

“Come on boys,” she whispered.  “Come on.”  It was probably just a rabbit, and the dogs could do with a run.  “Get it!” she called, pointing at the field.

The dogs didn’t need to be told twice.  They darted out and scampered towards the noise, barking.  Harper stood up, smiling as she watched them.  They loved chasing bunnies through the fields, and sometimes they even managed to catch them.

Sometimes.

This one was giving them the run-around, however.  She could hear them galloping back and forth through the crops.

She turned to retrieve her basket from the porch and begin folding the washing.  The piercing howl of an animal in pain stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Mack?  Buddy?” she called, moving closer to the field.  “Mack?  Come here, boy!”  She listened for any sign that they were on their way.  “Buddy?  Come on!”

She could hear whimpering, along with a dragging sound.  The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she realised something was wrong.  “Mack!  Buddy!” she yelled out, running to where she had last seen them.  A thundering of paws came hurtling towards her.  Mack nearly bowled her over as he sped out of the fields, his ears pinned back and tail between his legs.  Throwing her arms around his neck, Harper gave him a squeeze.

“You had me worried there, boy.  Where’s Buddy?”  At the sound of the other dog’s name, Mack jumped up and growled, facing the direction he had just come from.

“What is it?  Is he hurt?”  She seized his collar and tried to take him into the field with her, but he pulled out of her grasp.  “Come on, boy.  Take me to Buddy.”  She tried again to pull him with her, but he slunk back, whimpering.

Whatever was out there had rattled him.

She could still hear the faint whining of Buddy and that same dragging sound.  Not sure what she was up against, she quickly ran over to the porch and grabbed the broom that was leaning against it.  Holding the handle out from her body, she edged her way into the fields, her heart pounding.  Mack paced behind her, making little nervous yelping noises.

Whatever it was, had made quite a mess of the fields.  There were bent and broken branches everywhere.

She crept quietly through, trying not to draw attention to herself as she looked for signs of Buddy.  When she came across a puddle of blood with what looked to be his fur floating in it, she had to stop herself from crying out.  It was everywhere.

“Buddy,” she whispered, fighting back tears.

There was a trail of blood leading away from where she stood.  Taking a shaky breath, she followed.

Tears clouded her vision.  There had been so much blood.  What could have done that?  And where was Buddy?

The whimpering had subsided and now all she could hear was a strange growling sound coming from up ahead.  Harper swiped the tears away and crouched down, crawling closer.

Through the crops she could just make out a small group of people all huddled together.  She couldn’t quite make out what they were doing, but something told her she wasn’t going to like it.

She shuffled forward, trying to get a closer look, and instantly wished she hadn’t.  The group of people were hunched over the body of Buddy.  Their hands pawing at him, pulling out his insides.  Their faces smeared with his blood.

A muffled cry escaped her mouth as she watched them devour her beloved pet.  One of them stood and looked right at her, his mouth gaping open.  It was then that she realised, she recognised his face.  He was one of the farmhands they had hired, only there was something seriously wrong with him.

He grunted and a few others looked up from their meal.  Other familiar faces… she didn’t want to believe it. 
This isn’t happening!  Not Ma!  It can’t be Ma!
 

“Oh God!” Harper cried out.  She staggered backwards as they began to descend on her.  She managed to get to her feet and ran as fast as she could, forgetting about the broom she had left lying in the field behind her.

“Mack!  Run, boy!” she yelled as she crashed through the field.  She didn’t care if she destroyed their entire crop right now, she just wanted to get as far away from these ‘people’ as she could.  Their bloody faces and vacant eyes as they ripped at Buddy flashed in her mind, driving her forward.

She could see the edge of the field, she was nearly home.  She forced her legs to move faster.  Mack was still where she had left him, teeth bared and growling.

“Mack, run!” she yelled again as she came hurtling through.  “Run!”  She grabbed his collar and yanked, dragging him with her.

A wave of courage must have taken over, because he broke free from her grip and charged her pursuers.

“Mack no!” she screamed, but it was too late.  They had hold of him and were already tearing into his flesh, silencing him.

Harper ran for the house.  She found her father’s gun in the office and ran back outside.

“No!” she screamed, raising the gun and taking aim.  She fired and hit one in the head.  He fell to the ground, but the others continued feeding.  She fired again, hitting another, and another, until she was out of bullets.

More of them came after her as she backed up, frantically searching for another weapon.  Her eyes landed on a garden stake.  Wrenching it from the earth, she held it out in front of her.

“Back off!” she spat, swinging it back and forth, but it didn’t faze them as they continued to come after her.  She changed her grip, holding it above her head.  “Aaaarrrrrrgggghhhhhh!” she screamed, as she ran at them.  She plunged the stake into the eye of the closest one, a high pitched cry erupting as the girl fell to the ground.  Harper kicked out, dropping the next one advancing on her.  She yanked on the stake, trying to pull it out but it was wedged in there tightly.  She dodged the hands reaching for her as she ran for the watering can.  As soon as her hands were on it, she spun her body around, throwing all of her weight into it.  It connected with the two running at her, knocking them both to the ground.  She swung again, hitting the last one square in the jaw.  Grabbing another stake from the garden, she went around stabbing each one in the head.  She stood over them, making sure they were dead.

Panting, she surveyed the area around her, where multiple bodies lay crumpled.  She stumbled, dropping the stake, and falling to her knees.  She stared at Mack’s lifeless body in disbelief.  This didn’t just happen.  It had to be a dream.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to wake up from this nightmare, but when she opened them again, she was bitterly disappointed.

Burying her head in her hands, she began to cry.