"If you want to get out alive, oh run for your life!"
I slept absolutely dreamlessly, which seemed a blessing to me. More likely than not, I would end up dreaming something unpleasant. Life had become enough of a nightmare. I really didn't want to run the risk of fighting the apocalypse in my sleep. Anyway, given my recent experiences, I would probably find myself getting eaten alive by the goddamn zombie pilot or crushed and burning in the remains of the downed chopper.
I woke up with a giant crick in my neck. Ugh. That'll teach you to sleep sitting up. I cracked my eyes open marginally. The glare of the sunset poured through my eyes, causing me to blink rapidly in annoyance. Shit! I slept the whole day? I hoped someone had taken over the watch. I would feel like a real asshole if Ellis had been up all night…I cleared the last of the sleep from my eyes with my fist, inhaling deeply.
"Good morning…sort of…" someone said. I turned my head a little and saw Rochelle leaning against the boxcar, a tired smile on her face. Good, someone did take over. I lifted my head completely and stretched painfully, causing several small pops and cracks. I'm too old for this damn apocalypse.
"Where'd Ellis go?" I asked, hoping he'd gone inside and gotten some sleep. Rochelle half snorted and nodded at a spot behind me. Ellis was sitting propped against the boxcar, hat pulled over his eyes, asleep.
"He didn't want to wake you up," Rochelle explained. Huh? I was confused for a beat, and then I realized I'd been inadvertently using his shoulder as a pillow. Ah, shit. Now I feel like a complete jackass. I popped the rest of the way up, cracking my neck from side to side and rolling my shoulders like a boxer ready to be led into the ring. Rochelle rolled her eyes and tossed me something. I barely caught it…a granola bar. My stomach snarled at me lividly.
"Hungry, princess?" Nick asked from behind me. I turned to glare at him.
"Nope. Actually my stomach's just trying to eat itself. Thanks for your concern," I said, my voice dripping sarcasm. I ripped open the foil and crammed the granola bar down as quickly as I could manage. I had to actually think about the last time I'd eaten. I thought as I half-chewed. Yesterday afternoon, I concluded. Holy shit, it's only been a day? Honestly, it felt as if years had gone by. It was impossible to comprehend that mere hours ago my life had been intact.
I dropped the wrapper after pouring the last of the crumbs into my mouth, lightly scolding myself for littering. Oh no! One little wrapper? I don't know how humanity will go on after my heinous crime…oh, wait. Humanity's already gone…mostly. Never mind.
"We heading out again soon?" I asked, not sure what response I wished for. Rochelle nodded.
"Don't really have a good reason to stick around. It's not the best idea to stay in one place too long," she explained. I nodded in agreement. A boxcar's not exactly the best safe room in the world either. No way that thing would hold up against a tank.
I hopped back into the boxcar, ignoring the uncomfortable pulling in the region of my stomach, and collected extra clips for my pistols. It was almost calming. Preparing for another dozen fights to the death made me focus on the present, rather than dwelling on the past. It was like the images frozen in my brain were in a room with a flickering light switch, controlled by the idleness of my mind. Life! Death! Life! Death! Life! Death!
When I had finished rearming myself and exited our temporary shelter, I found the others all awake and preparing to leave.
"Alright, let's go," Coach said gruffly. We started walking toward a fenced-in gas station. A tattered sign hung across the fence. Coach read it aloud as we passed,
"No CEDA, no military, stay out…"
"Well, that looks promising," I said with mock cheerfulness.
"When they say stay out, I'm sure they meant someone else," Rochelle said over her shoulder. Oh terrific. I suppose I should add that to my list of things that are currently trying to kill me…zombies and swamp people. At least the swamp people won't try to eat me…presumably.
"They probably should have added no zombies to that sign," Nick commented dryly as he shot a stray common. And I'm completely sure they would have paid attention. "No zombies, huh? Boy, I guess we can't eat the people behind the fence. Oh, darn." Hell, CEDA probably didn't bother paying attention to that sign.
I found my mind shifting into its strategic mode again, the panic light switch firmly shut off for now. This was definitely not a time to think about death. Okay, scratch that. It was definitely not a time to be thinking about deaths that had likely already happened and that I had no means of preventing. I cocked my pistols menacingly, a grim smile frozen on my face in a grotesque mask.
We walked cautiously through the ramshackle little town, not running into anything too exciting. You know how this goes. Just give it a minute. I guarantee a charger at the very least. I tensely told myself to shut the fuck up. But I still kept my eyes and ears open, just in case. After all, the calm before a storm couldn't last forever.
"Alright," Coach started, stopping in the middle of the rough road, "We should split up and search for supplies. We'll meet up at the river when we're done. Nick, you and Ellis search that end of the town. The rest of us will cover this side," he finished, gesturing. No one looked particularly happy with the arrangement of our little search parties. Especially Nick. Nick and Ellis headed off to their assigned half and Coach started walking in the opposite direction. Rochelle and I glanced at each other and followed him. I leaned over and whispered to Rochelle,
"Are you sure he wants them to come back in one piece?" She shook her head slowly and half-smiled. Coach craned his neck over his shoulder.
"Ya can't go by people who get along," he explained shortly, "It has to be about skill." I shook my head in annoyance. You know, I do believe you should be somewhat insulted.
I swatted my annoyance aside and concentrated on the task before me. The three of us poked around the shacks and didn't find much anything of interest. There were scattered clips of ammunition, but these were few and far between. The only half-significant find was a pipe bomb, which Coach claimed. My snarling stomach was hoping to find some food, but we had no such luck. Every scrap of food had already been scavenged or had become rancid.
We were on the second floor of a store of some sort when I heard someone swear loudly and the subsequent echoing roar of a horde.
"Oh, come on!" I protested, raising my pistols. We didn't even do anything to piss them off this time! Staccato bursts of gunfire sounded from somewhere behind us, accompanied by a weird metallic clicking and creaking. Glancing out the window, I could see something moving toward us across the river. Oh, fantastic. Never touch the damn levers, people! Especially when we're scattered all over hell like this!
Coach, Rochelle, and I attempted to get back to the ground to help the others. As we began to make our way down the stairs, part of the horde poured through the open shop door as if they had been shot from a fire hose. We all fired rapidly into the mass of ex-humanity to no avail. Coach and Rochelle were shoved down the stairs by the horde's onslaught. I was left on the landing by myself.
"Shit!" I swore. My pistols were completely empty and with the damn zombies surrounding me, I couldn't reload. I needed help, damn it! I glanced downstairs. I couldn't see Coach or Rochelle anymore. Hell, I couldn't see the goddamn floor any more. The room was filled with writhing commons.
I tried desperately to get down the stairs, but I was swimming against the current. The horde pushed violently against me, making progress absolutely impossible. I whipped those closest to me with my pistols as I was shoved back. Inevitably, I lost my footing, landing hard on my back. I instinctively tucked myself into a ball and covered my face with my hands as the horde kicked and clawed at me. One caught me in the mouth and I tasted blood.
"Fire in the hole!" Coach shouted from downstairs. I heard the welcome beeping of a pipe bomb. Why the hell didn't you throw that earlier, genius? I almost laughed in relief, anticipating escape for the first time in several minutes.
You know that old saying, "don't count your chickens before they hatch?" Well, as it turns out, there's a damn good reason for it.
I thought I was going crazy when I heard the beeping getting louder. He threw it out the door right? A small gray object landed on the floor next to me, continuing its incessant beeping. My blood ran cold. Shitshitshitshitshitshit.
I needed to get up. I needed to get the fuck out of there. The commons around me pushed and shoved to get to the pipe bomb, their movements restricting mine. Coach, if this kills me, I swear to God, I will haunt you for-fucking-ever!
The part of my brain that wasn't half-panicking told me there was no possible way I could get down the stairs. The window! Go! I clawed through the horde like one possessed. The only thought in my head was survival. After all I'd been through, I was not going to die like this. I screamed incoherently as I beat my way to the only plausible exit. I almost cried in relief when I broke free of the boundary. I broke into a run, diving out the window without giving myself the chance to think about it. Get off the roof! Get off the roof! Get off the roof!
I lost my footing and slid down the metal roof, landing on something like a fridge before falling hard on the ground. The impact knocked the breath from me in an undignified wheeze at almost the same moment the bomb exploded.
Breathe! I followed my logical side's command, whooping in air. When I was able to breathe somewhat normally, I took the opportunity to reload my pistols. I delicately felt my sides. They hurt, but not so much that I couldn't walk. Now where the hell is everyone? The backs of my arms tingled with apprehension and my stomach dropped to the floor. Calm down. How about you actually look for them before you make assumptions?
I cautiously backed myself against the building I had escaped. The last thing I needed was to be attacked from behind. Keep your eyes open. The last thing you need is to get nailed by a goddamn charger or something while you're out here by yourself. I strained my ears for…well, most any sound at all. Ever since the pipe bomb had exploded, everything was silent. Even the creaking thing that had been making its way across the river had stopped moving, waiting innocently by the dock, gate invitingly open. A crude sign leaning near it read, "Gone to Village Des Marais." Well, at least there's a chance someone else made it…
Wait. What was that?
Voices. I stepped away from my cover slightly, still keeping an eye out for threats in my peripheral vision. It sounded like they were arguing about something.
"…behind me! The hell'd you expect me to do?" Coach.
"Hey…I'm down here…" I croaked. No one heard me.
"Wouldn't've killed ya to fuckin' check!" Ellis.
"Uh…hello?" I tried again. No such luck.
"Boy, I about had a goddamn hunter screwin' me up the ass. Excuse me for bein' a little fuckin' distracted!"
"May I remind you exactly who attracted the horde in the first fucking place?" Nick. Oh for cripe's sake! I gave up on coherent speech and fired one shot across the river. Absolute silence followed. My God, that was annoying. All four of them appeared on the roof. I smiled faintly and saluted them with my pistol.
"Personally, I'd recommend the stairs," I said, having finally regained full use of my voice. Coach, Rochelle, and Nick turned around, presumably taking my "advice" to heart. Ellis, on the other hand, dropped off the roof in a slightly more dignified manner than I had. He at least managed to land on his feet. Within moments, he was standing in front of me, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"You okay?" he asked. I wiped the side of my mouth with my hand. It came away flecked with red. I shrugged.
"I'll live," I said, even managing a small smile. Good girl. Now you know that feeling of wanting to smack Coach upside the head with a frying pan? You should probably ignore that for now. There's still pleeeeenty of room in your emotion closet, my dear. I followed my own instructions, wondering vaguely how sane it was that a, I was constantly having mental conversations with myself, and b, I had just called myself a pet name. Well, it really isn't a question of your being insane. It's more a matter of the degree to which you've lost your marbles. Either way, now is not the time for psychoanalysis, sweetheart.
My subconscious was kind of a bitch.
The rest of the group appeared from around the corner of the store, looking somewhat relieved. I found my face settling into a cold glare. Smooth move, dumbshit. I swear to God, if you say that out loud…just settle down. Remember the lovely Closet O' Suppressed Emotion? I found the perfect spot for this bit of mindless rage. How about we just shove that in there? With significant effort, I relaxed my expression, visualizing myself cramming tangible amounts of anger in a plastic bin.
I was mostly in control of myself when they reached us. I restrained an urge to cock an eyebrow at Coach. You're allowed to have some reaction. You just have to keep it within sane limits. Okay. Now just what was regarded as a sane reaction to another person almost inadvertently causing your painful and horrible death?
"Sorry 'bout earlier," Coach started, "I honestly thought you were right behind us." That's your cue to respond, Captain Oblivious.
"'s fine," I muttered unconvincingly, "Could've happened to anyone…" Oscar-worthy. Simply breathtaking. Shut the fuck up.
Rochelle broke the awkward silence. "I think it's time to take a ride on the ferry," she said, pointedly walking closer to the dock. Thank you! I shrugged off the whole almost-getting-blown-to-smithereens-by-my-jackass-teammate thing. Since I wasn't seriously injured, we obviously had better things to do than to dwell on the recent past. We piled onto the small platform and started it moving across the river.
"So, Nick, what do you think the chances are the swamp people are still alive?" Rochelle asked in a matter reminiscent of one remarking on the weather. Nick scoffed.
"What, alive and infected, or alive and not zombies?"
"Not zombies." Nick made a point out of thinking for a moment, taking on an almost professor-like air. His expression cleared and he announced his carefully calculated findings.
"100 to 1."
"Sound about right." I shook my head and turned away from the pair of pessimists. I had enough of those thoughts running through my head on my own, thank you very much. There was a short moment of near-silence. My God this boat is taking forever. Ellis, as usual, was the first to break it.
"Listen up everybody," he began intently, "Be on the lookout for blood farmers. I'm serious." I turned around curiously. What in the hell…?
"Boy, what the hell are you talking about?" Rochelle demanded.
"Duh. Farmers that don't grow crops; they grow people…to eat," Ellis responded, still maintaining a dead serious tone. There was another short moment of silence as what he'd just said sunk in. I started laughing uncontrollably, unable to hold it in any longer. I couldn't help myself. It was just too goddamn ridiculous.
"Jesus Christ, Ellis!" Nick exploded, "Like the goddamn zombies aren't bad enough!" I made an effort to shut myself up, tears beading in the corners of my eyes. By the time I'd finally succeeded, we had reached the other side of the river. The gate to the ferry sprang open automatically and we disembarked, already scanning the area around us for new threats.
Evidently we were headed even farther from civilization. The few marks we had seen in the rough town behind us were completely gone now. The only signs of human life were the unstable-looking wooden walkways bridging areas of the swamp. It would be completely worth it if we could find more survivors though. Even as a group of five, we had had far too many close calls. Safety in numbers and all that…
I froze almost before I heard it. The forlorn, echoing sobbing. I flinched.
"Witch," I hissed in a low whisper. We crept carefully along the planks of the walkways, searching for the source of the noise. I finally saw her, illuminated by the faint glow of the camping lantern sitting beside her. Coach motioned for us to stop. We all froze dead in our tracks. On the one hand, we had a PMSing zombie, on the other, live alligators. I'll take my chances with the alligators.
Stop! Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see. I pushed carefully past the others, sucking it up and cautiously dipping my feet in the water. I shivered, a combination of my proximity to the witch and the feeling of cold, rank water flowing in through my aerated tennis shoes. I walked slowly, shuffling in the heavy silt at the bottom to avoid any splashing. I held my breath as I passed the witch, chancing a glance at her, just to make sure I wasn't pissing her off too much. Let's see. I'm Kate, I seek the safe zone, and what do you mean? An African or a European swallow? Luckily for me, she hadn't budged an inch. I finally made it to the other side and let out a breath of relief. Congratulations, Arthur. I turned around to face the others and gave them a sarcastic bow for the occasion.
The others quickly followed my lead, sloshing through the tepid water as quietly as humanly possible. There were a couple of close calls (Coach and Ellis weren't exactly adept at the whole quiet splashing thing), but soon enough, most of us had made it past the witch. Everyone but Nick had managed to sneak past her. He was still waiting on the other side, looking questioningly at the ground. He then attempted to pass the witch without taking his feet off dry land. You are a fucking moron!
The rest of us watched silently, afraid that even speaking out loud would push the witch over the edge. Hell, even given the dead silence, the witch had started to rise, growling softly. Oh my God…stupid! You're a stupid man! Now you're going to die! I tensed even more, anticipating an abrupt change from threatening growling to piercing screaming.
But…nothing happened. Strangely enough, he managed to get past the witch before she went apeshit. There was a collective release of breath. Rochelle, eyebrows raised comically high, opened her mouth to speak, but Coach shook his head and glanced pointedly at the dangerously close witch. We moved away from the witch and continued along the walkway. As soon as the sound of sobbing faded into memory, the silence was broken by a vocal explosion.
"Have you lost your mind?" Rochelle burst out. Well, there may have been a perfectly reasonable explanation. Maybe he didn't want to chance the 'gators or something? "What in the hell were you thinking?" Nick shrugged marginally and didn't say a damn thing.
"C'mon, let's go, damn it!" Coach interrupted.
Ignoring Nick's idiocy for now, we kept going. We soon reached the end of the plank walkway, leaving us no option but to continue through the swamp water. We stepped into the water unenthusiastically, our pace slowed from a combination of frigid temperature and a thick, mucky bottom. Nick mumbled expletives under his breath the entire time, walking as carefully as we had back by the witch.
The next safe house wasn't far. Gee, I wonder if that used to be part of the sewer system around here? Speaking of which, is it really much of a mystery just what you may have been stepping in this whole time? We wasted no time getting inside the giant pipe. As soon as the door was barred, Nick set his weapon on the floor and meticulously started squeezing water out of his pants.
"Shit," he mumbled under his breath, "All this swamp water's going to ruin my white suit!" Oh, you have got to be shitting me…
