Zombies! Rising from the Dead (11 page)

We slowed down to watch the whole debacle play out.
Ha
derson had built them into an
absolute
frenzy;
these stupid
r
ednecks were blissfully unaware of what they were going to be
up against. They probably
would
kill dozens, maybe even hundreds of these things but the
problem was you weren't up against a few dozen or even a few hundred for that matter; we
were looking at a figure in the thousands. Taking down one or two, sure no problem, but what

happens
when it goes from one vs. one to one vs.
fifty,
or a
hundred?

“What the fuck do they think they are going to do?”
Rick cursed. “
What the hell is
their goddamn problem? Stupid fucking rednecks, they're going to get themselves killed.”

“I know but it’s not like anything we have to say is going to change their minds.
If we go in there and try to convince them otherwise it’s just going to piss them off.
Let’s
just get
back home, we
’ve got to
take care of ourselves first; it's all we can do.”

We felt a sigh of relief as we finally turned down Cider road, our long trek from
Panatauk nearly
over;
we were only minutes from home now. The few scattered houses along
the road seemed deserted. It appeared that most of our neighbors chose to pack up and leave

r
ather
than stay behind and try to hold out. It didn't make much sense to me, as
the home field advantage would be to stay in the place where one was the most familiar.

This part of the country was flat
,
as how it was mostly farmland. The
large
stretches of land on Cider road weren't any different. It was early in the planting season and
most of the land had just been tilled, but not yet planted. For a mile in either direction all you
could see were barren fields, with a vague tree line meeting the horizon off in the distance.

We were only a few minutes from Rick's when we came across another heart
wrenching sight, and it's one of the few
i
ncidents that have stuck with me to this very day.

Walking on the side of the road was a large, port
ly woman wearing a long gown.
The
type of gown that isn't exactly a dress
,
but
more akin to
pajamas.
We knew immediately who it was
as she was a fa
miliar sight on our road.
It was Mrs. Martinez, a sweet old lady somewhere in her mid-sixties. I would drive by
on my way to work and she would always be out in her garden. She would
always take the time to stop and wave as I drove by. She was the classic grandmother type,
heavy-set, sweet and cheerful. The kind of grandmother you could easily imagine in the
kitchen
baking sugar cookies for her grandchildren. She had lived alone for many years, her
husband Ed having passed away a long time before. Ed was a kindly
man,
sometimes I
would stop and chat with him f
rom time to time.
They didn't have any family that I knew of, at-least
none that ever saw. They seemed to enjoy it when people stopped by to shoot the breeze. They were just good old fashioned
people;
the world needed more like them.

It seemed odd in light of recent events that she would just be out walking around alone
as if nothing was going on. She almost certainly would have heard the news by now, but she
was
quite old and getting more than a little forgetful in recent years, so I dismissed it.

“Hey,”
as I tapped Rick on the shoulder and pointed. “
Isn't that Ms. Martinez?
”

“Yeah, yeah it is,
pull
up, let’s see if she's okay.”
Rick asked.

“
Okay, but let’s just be careful”
I said as we approached.

As we neared something about Ms. Martinez didn't seem right. She appeared to be
disheveled
and
had a strange gait to her walk. We got closer,
within yards
…

As the front of the truck neared we could see that she was covered in blood.

“SHE'S HURT!”
Rick hollered.

“No, something
isn’t
right, man...”
I told him.

Then, just as Rick's passenger side window meet up with the old woman she turned and
looked at Rick. Her
eyes
were
half rolled back in her head
and
had a glazed,
milky white sheen to them. She was cradling one arm with the other. The reason she was so
covered
in blood? She had been feeding on herself
; t
aking huge chunks out of her own flesh.
You could easily see the gaping wounds she had inflicted upon herself; torn shreds of skin,
muscle and sinew dangled from the bone, dripping with thick, rich blood which looked as
though it was already half congealed. She looked at us through those dead eyes and let out a
moan that was part scream, part breathless wheeze.

We didn't wait to see what happened
next
and Rick didn't have to say anything this time. I
slammed on the gas, the force of which threw him back against the seat.

“DAMN IT
!
GODDAMMIT
!
FUCKK, FUCCKK, FUUUUCCCKKKK!!!!!!!”
I
screamed as I started pounding the steering wheel.
“She never did a goddamned thing
toanyone
, nobody! This is fucking bullshit!”

It was true, the old woman had never hurt a soul; but that
d
idn't matter. Whatever this
infection, virus or radiation...whatever the hell it was, it didn't take into consideration past
deeds whether they be for ill or good, everyone was the same. Young, old, sick, well, dead or
living. It didn't matter, it leveled the playing field.

“I know
it’s not right
;
but there is nothing we can do for her. Whatever that thing
was, it wasn't her. She's gone now and that body is just what's left behind. She's with God and
now she's not hurting okay?”
Rick said trying to comfort me.

We were both religious being raised in Christian homes, even before meeting on those
porch steps of the Barkley church. We had both backslid a bit but we never forgot what we
learned
and
how we
c
ame to know Jesus and were saved by the grace of God. I knew that
“thing”
wasn't Mrs. Martinez;
but to see the soulless monstrosity that
had
been her up and walking
about on the other side of death seemed not only
an
abomination against God, but disrespectful
to the sweet old lady she had once been.

As we sped away Rick turned in his seat gazing out the back window until Mrs.
Martinez faded into the distance.

Perhaps the stress of the situation became too much for her.
Heart attack?
Stroke?
Who knows?
Worse still, maybe one of those things got to her and she lacked the strength to
fend it off. It could be simpler than that
;
maybe she decided to end it thinking the end of days was upon us. Yet again, maybe she was just lonely and simply
wanted to go
be with Ed after being alone for so very long.

We will never know exactly what happened to that dear sweet woman and that's what
haunts us the most. She
deserved so much better.

Chapter Four:

Be It Ever So Humble

Rick and I both knew that the infection was quickly
s
preading. It would overtake the
area soon, but luckily we were only minutes from home. The vision of Mrs. Martinez was still
fresh, haunting us as it replayed itself in our minds. It was different than the accident we had
happened upon earlier. When
it’s
someone you
k
now the pain runs deeper, strikes closer to
home. It makes you want to lash out in vengeance, to right the wrong and meek out justice on

the
perpetrator, but there was no one to strike out against; no one to dispense justice on. There
was nothi
ng physical to lash out against;
Intangible.

“Rick, what are you all going to do? Do you all want to get over to my place or what?”
I
asked.

“I
dunno
, it's a thought, but I have to get Amanda calmed down and explain things to
her and I have to get the house taken care of. If it comes down to it we will come down to your
place.”
Rick was still shaken from the sight of Mrs. Martinez, but holding it together well
enough.

I reached my arm behind the driver seat and fumbled with some bags.
“Hey man, would
you grab those radios we bought and get the batteries in them? Start getting ready... I don't
want to be outside any longer than we have to.”

Rick started rambling through the various sacks that we had acquired on our trip and
began divvying up the supplies.