Vaccination (10 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Didn’t take long for the four of us to become thieves.

Traveling close to houses, we kept to the shadows, and at one point, stumbled upon an armory of yard tools. I gave up the hockey stick for a wood handled shovel. Allison stuck the flashlight through a belt loop and retrieved hedge clippers. Josh tucked a hand shovel into each pocket, and carried a hoe like he was an Amazon native armed with a spear. Thing resembled a fireman's
halligan
bar. Dave went all old school with a four-tined pitchfork.

There was no denying it, try as I might. It did feel safer with the four of us. Perhaps it was the additional weapons. More than likely
, it was the two extra men, and Dave being a brick wall at that. It wasn’t that Allison couldn’t handle herself. She was still alive and had proven to me that she could. She’d destroyed the fat zombie that had attacked her from out of the bathroom. No, this was something different. Maybe it was because these two guys didn’t mean as much to me. Didn’t mean I didn’t care, or wouldn’t have their back. Just meant, with Alley, it was different. I was too close.

We didn’t move house to house, hiding behind bushes. Could have.
Instead, we stayed close to houses, and walked across yards. Four wide, instead of one behind the other. We started that way. Taking cover behind anything and everything we could find to take cover behind. When we went ten minutes without seeing a single zombie, we got lax. I knew we’d be using our new garden tools soon. Just wasn’t sure when. And relaxed or not, the knot in the pit of my stomach was tied, tight.

My cell phone rang.

We all stopped. I dug it out of my pocket. Hands fumbling. It wasn’t just that I was anxious to answer, the ringing sounded like the Liberty Bell tolling in the silence that enveloped the area.

“Chase, the fuck, man?”

I shot Dave a look that should have said,
shut your fucking mouth or I’ll use the blade on this shovel to slice your head off your body and bury it deep up your ass
. Must have worked, because he broke eye contact and settled for looking down at the pavement.

It was my daughter. “Char? Charlene?”

“We left the house, Daddy. We had to. Mom, and Donald--they’re sick. They tried to attack us.”

“Where is Cash?”

“Here. He’s with me.” She was sobbing. Her words difficult to understand. The next few words though, I didn’t catch them.

“Honey, what? What was that? Where are you?”

“We hid in the garage. Don came out there,” she said. “He looked crazy. I told him to stay away. I put Cash behind me. I was protecting him.”

“You’re an awesome sister, Char.”

“But he wouldn’t stop. He kept coming at us. I hurt him,” she said.

Can’t deny it. A bit of pride swelled inside me. Think my chest protruded some to show it, too. “It’s okay, honey. These things -- they aren’t human. Not anymore. Where are you guys now?”

“I chopped off his hand, Daddy. I used an ax. It was his. It was leaning against the wall. I used it to chop off his hand.”

I couldn’t imagine. It had to have been a nightmare. She was a kid. Fourteen. Chopping off a hand would disturb me, and I’m as fucked up as they come. “You had to, Charlene. To protect yourself. It’s okay. Are you okay?”

A few seconds of sniffling. “I’m--”

The line went dead. “Charlene? Charlene?”

I looked at the phone. Call was dropped. Towers are either working quadruple time or sporadically. And the green bar at the top of the display let me know the phone was not going to last much longer. I should have stopped home; at least I could have thrown some things, including my charger into a backpack.

I redialed her number. Fast busy signal. I disconnected the call. Tried again. Fast busy. I almost thr
ew my phone. Took tons of strength not to. It was the only means of contact with my kids at this point. That single thought kept me from smashing the palm-sized piece of plastic onto the pavement.

Allison had a hand on my shoulder. Might have been there the whole time. “They’re not there?”

“They ran. Char and Cash took off. My fucking ex and her husband attacked them.” I shook my head. I thought it would be easy to say, that the pride I’d felt would make me want to tell everyone, but the words were trapped in my throat, and sobs of my own sat on top of them. “She used an ax on the guy. Cut off his hand.”

“Where did they go?”

“She didn’t get to tell me,” I said. I swallowed
it
. All of
it
. There’d be a time for
it
, later. Now was not that time. “We’re still going to the house. I need to see what’s happened.”

“You think that’s best? We know they are not there.” Allison’s eyes stared into mine, like she was trying to figure out my motivation for still going to my ex’s if the kids were no longer there.

“We’re not going anywhere right now, guys.” Josh stared straight ahead. A motley crue looking group, a gang of people, filled the streets down near Maiden Lane. It intersected Mt. Read. A gas station, a vacant gas station, a Rite Aid and a small Greek restaurant occupied the four corners. “They’re coming this way.”

“Slow, jagged movement,” Allison said. “Zombies.”

“We’ve got to get off the road. Completely.” Josh ran toward the closest house. He tried the knob. “Locked.”

He was right. We needed to get into a house. Ride this wave out and hope the monsters just passed by. Best I could tell
, there were forty, maybe fifty of them. They seemed different from the other zombies encountered. These appeared organized. Just the way they walked the street together gave off a sense of order, order I didn’t like seeing.

“Should we back track?” Dave was looking the way we’d come.

“Try those houses,” I said. “Be quiet about it.”

Dave took off, running up
the porch steps of the house we’d just passed.

“That’s the retirement home across the street,” Allison said. I looked. “We don’t want to be anywhere near there. You know they all got the shot.”

I tried a smile. It felt awkward. It wasn’t for my benefit. “We’re going to find a house. We’ll get in--”

“Chase!”

I closed my eyes. Not sure what part of quiet confused Dave. Was it the whole word? The double syllables? I took Allison by the hand. “See, we’ll hole up in the house until they pass. Then we’ll be on the move again. Won’t be in there long at all.”

Josh was already running toward the house his brother had found. Allison and I fell in behind him. We stayed in the shadows as best as possible. The zombies coming our way were in the street, under the lights. Hopefully they didn’t have vision like cats.

Dave stood on the white porch. He held open the screen door to the house. He waved us in. It was the shit-ass stupid grin he wore that made me want to pop him in the mouth. Tried to remember the fact that he wasn’t right in the head. “Good job,” I said, instead of a knuckle sandwich. The guy beamed.

Once inside, we shut the door, engaged the locks.

“We need to clear the place,” Josh said.

“What?” Allison looked from Josh to me.

“He’s right. Before we go boarding up windows and locking doors. We have no idea who might be in here.”

With the little moonlight
available or it was a street light, I don’t know--don’t care, I saw Dave’s fingers on the wall.

“Don’t touch the lights,” I said.

“But we can’t see anything,” he said.

“David, leave the lights off.”

I looked outside. The zombies were not walking as slow as I’d thought. They weren’t directly outside the house we’d hidden in, but they were close.

“I have this.” Allison pulled the flashlight out of her belt loop. “The batteries died, but if we can find some?”

And then the living room we were all in, went bright. Lit up.

Allison cursed, and fumbled with the flashlight. “They were dead,” she said, switching the light off. “They didn’t work before.”

“Shit,” I said. I had been looking out the window, fingers slightly parting thin drapes. “One of those things is . . . ah shit. They’re coming this way.”

“The zombies?”

“No, Dave. The pizza guy. I placed an order when I knew we were going to be here for a while,” I said. No idea if Dave grasped sarcasm. Didn’t seem to. Part of me thought he was dying to ask what toppings I got on the pie.

“He’s right,” Josh said. “We don’t have time to clear the place. We have to lock it down. Good.”

“This picture window is huge.”

“Everyone just be quiet. Shhh.” I said. “Josh, you and Dave go look for a back door. Stay there. If things go bad out here, and as long as it stays clear back there, we’re going to need a way out. Fast. And Josh?”

He stopped. “Yeah?”

“Stay low, away from windows. We can’t be making a lot of noise. Right now, I think the only thing we got on our side is the flimsy locks on the doors. They start breaking windows, we’re running for it. And Josh?”

“Huh?”

“Allison, give him your radio,” I said. “They make a lot of static, Josh. Only use it if you have to. And Josh?”

He cocked a hip and sighed at me. “Yeah?”

“Take Dave,” I said.

“I don’t like this,” Allison said when we were alone. “This seems worse than when we were in the security office.”

I didn’t have time to compare dire situations. The stairs that led upstairs were directly behind the front door. “Stand behind me. Watch the stairs.”

“Watch them for what?”

I put my shoulder against the door. “Don’t be stupid.”

I pressed my eye to the peephole. At least one of those things most definitely saw Allison turn on the flashlight. But not all of them. They were all off the street now. Forty, fifty of them. And they were on the lawn. They were walking right toward the front window.

“Don’t make a sound.”

Chapter Twenty

We were locked inside a house. We might not be alone. The zombies outside saw us in here. It was accidental, I know. Alley should have known better than to switch on the flashlight, even if she thought the batteries were dead. Now we were split up. Josh and Dave were somewhere in the back of this place, hopefully by an exit, keeping an eye out for creatures back there, while Allison and I had the front door blocked and were silently hopeful the things would lose interest and continue their trek south down Mt. Read. Too bad there wasn’t any traffic. Would love seeing the lot of them struck by vehicles.

This was not the time for day dreaming, or wishful thinking.

“Chase,” Allison whispered.

“Shhh.”

“Chase,” she said, again.

I turned away from the peephole. Turned away from scouting the area on the opposite side of the door. Turned away from watching most of the zombies move on, finding nothing but what must have appeared to them like a vacant house. “What?”

Allison had her arms held out in front of her. Holding the Y handle of her hedge clippers in a white-knuckle grip. “We’re not alone.”

It was a whisper. I heard her as if she’d yelled. I looked up the stairs. Hairs on my arm stood. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. A shudder passed down my spine. “Ah, shit,” I said.

It was like something out of a horror film. The old woman at the top of staircase stood still in a white nightie that reached to just above her ankles. Ruffles around the cuffs and neckline. Pale, decayed skin was the flesh that covered her skull and was her face. Her arms were at her side. She didn’t appear to have any fingers on one hand. Made me think if she was the only one in the house, she might have eaten the digits herself.

“We need to stay quiet,” I said. “Watch the door. Don’t make a sound.”

Allison and I swapped spots. I wanted her to keep an eye at the peephole. I had my back to her. I knew she was watching me and the woman at the top of the stairs, regardless. Suppose I would be too.

I held my
shovel; the rounded end aimed at the woman, as if it were a spear, and walked up the first stair.

“What are you doing?” Allison had her hand on my shoulder.

“She has to go.”

“It’s her house.”

I ignored that stupid comment and took another step closer. The woman just stood there. She wasn’t swaying. She wasn’t moaning. Had she been glowing, I’d of sworn she was a ghost and not a zombie. And on a night like tonight, I’d have easily accepted a haunting. Easily.

“Watch the peep hole,” I said. My eyes never left the woman. There was no way to gauge her age. The peeling flesh on her cheeks and milky white eyeballs made it impossible. Only thing I had was the tuft of thin white hair rolled in curlers and held in place with a yellow and blue bandanna. No one did that anymore, just old people did.

Seven steps separated us. The blade of the shovel would reach her in two. I held the wood handle with both hands. Sweat coated my palms. I gripped and re-gripped as I took another step. With a jab, I think I could reach her from here, without having to get any closer. I needed the striking blow to deliver death. Not just knock her back, or cut into her. Like it or not, I’ have to shave more off the distance between us.

It was the way she just stood there, though. Staring. Vacant. She didn’t seem anxious, or hungry to eat me. Drool, or puss, or nothing fell from her lips. If she wasn’t a ghost, I’d put money on poorly crafted mannequin, way before I guessed flesh eating zombie.

I pulled the shovel back, so I could strike fast and hard with some momentum as I climbed the next step. Sweat was behind my knees. I felt more apprehensive about this one. I’d killed a few along the way. Maybe because the few I’d killed put my life in immediate danger. Or Allison’s. And at this point, Mannequin has not made as much as an aggressive flinch.

She freaked me the fuck out, but I didn’t feel threatened. Yet.

Would her freaking me out be reason enough to destroy her skull? She was not human. That was clear. Evident in the black goo that dripped from stumps that used to contain at least eight fingers and a few thumbs. You sever parts of the body, you bleed. Blood. Red blood. Not goo. Black goo.

We were in danger. We were. A flock of zombies were on the lawn. Enveloping the house--Mannequin’s house. They did not seem to be interested enough to force entry. Had a feeling if they suspected four . . . humans were inside, they might. The way they’d appeared all gang-like and organized, I couldn’t put past them that it wouldn’t take much to realize breaking glass would be as good as opening a door. Mannequin had to go. Just like I’d said when I’d climbed up the first step. Whether that had been for Allison’s sake or mine, did not matter.

Feeling like a coiled rattler, and just as I was ready to lunge springing forward to chop Mannequin to death, the radio on my hip squawked and hissed. I stared down at it.

“Chase? What’s it like out front. Clear back here.”

My jaw dropped open. Fucking Dave. Josh gave Dave the fucking radio.

“Chase!” Allison said.

I looked up the stairs. Mannequin was gone. Just, gone.

Shit. Now what. “I have to find her. Please, Alley, keep a lookout.” I took the radio off my hip, handed it down to her. “Turn down the volume, and answer that fuck.”

“You’re going up there?”

“Unless you saw her pass me on the stairs and she’s hiding down here somewhere? Did you see her do that? Did you see her pass me? Is she down here?”

“You don’t have to be a dick,” she said.

I gave her my back, re-gripped my hold on the shovel and climbed the stairs into a windowless and completely pitch black hallway. “Ah, shit.”

I could barely see a thing in front of me. I strained to listen. Thought I might hear Mannequin breathing, or groaning, or something. But nothing. Not a sound. About the only thing I heard was my own heartbeat. It filled my ears with a muffled
tha-thump, tha-thump
, and my own heavy breathing. I might not hear Mannequin, but if she wasn’t deaf with old age, she’d hear me.

Don’t know if it was strength or courage I conjured, but taking that first step was not easy. Still, I took it. Each step after -- no easier.

I had to take one hand off the shovel to feel along the wall. I was looking for a door, or doorway. Last thing I wanted to feel, but the one thing that kept coming to mind, was the touch of a cotton nightie. I shivered.

My fingers grazed over fuzzy wallpaper. Reminded me of mold. I almost pulled my hand away. Instead, I pushed forward. Seemed like I’d covered more than a hundred yards. A chanced look back told me maybe I’d crossed a foot or two. The baby steps weren’t getting the job done.

Molding. A doorway. I felt around. The door was open. I reached across to the opposite wall, the wall on the east and touched fuzziness. So no one was behind me. I took a deep breath. Held it, and sent the end of my shovel into the room ahead of me. I poked and jabbed at air. Followed in close behind. I swung it back and forth, just to make sure Mannequin wasn’t standing right there, waiting for me.

She wasn’t. The
window across the room let in some outside light. I could turn on the light. Josh and Dave had indicated the back yard was clear. This room faced that direction. I didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t seem worth it. Instead, I stood at the threshold a moment, hoping my eyes would adjust. I didn’t have all night. A few extra seconds wasn’t going to hurt, especially if it helped my sight.

Or so I thought.