"Holy shit
Linda continued to sleep restlessly while Michelle glanced irritably towards the door, wishing the sound of hammering would cease to echo throughout the house. On one hand she knew how important it was to secure the house as much as possible, but on the other, she wanted some peace and quiet so she could think. Maybe then she could convince herself that everything she'd seen had really happened.
From somewhere beneath the open bedroom window a loud bang drew Michelle's attention, and as she automatically turned her head towards them she was startled to see that her patient's eyes were open. The other woman had been out cold ever since she'd been carried up to the room hours earlier.
"Linda?" Michelle said, her voice taking on a questioning tone. Given the amount of blood loss Linda had suffered and the amount of time she'd spent unconscious, it was startling to see her suddenly awake like this, especially since she'd slept through all the other pounding and banging that had been steadily sounding all afternoon.
"Michelle? What in hell is going on?" the injured woman asked, her voice sounding hoarse and slightly unnatural. Her eyes held a thoroughly lucid look to them though, and Michelle took it as a good sign, despite the fact that the odd blackness of the veins stretching from her wounded foot seemed to be spreading up her leg. It was clearly visible on her calf now, and slowly creeping up past her knee, the veins above them already showing signs of darkening, though not quite yet the same inky black color.
"We found some other people, Linda, people like us. Survivors, I mean. They found us really, and now they've brought us back to this house where we should be safe. Do you remember?"
"Survivors? Safe?" Linda uttered in confusion, her voice not much more than a whisper now.
"You remember what happened don't you? Last night, I mean. After we'd gone out on the lake for a pontoon ride," Michelle coaxed, trying to jar the other woman's memory. She took a bottle of water from the bedside table and handed it to her. "Here, this might help your throat some."
Linda struggled to get herself into a semi-reclined position before Michelle could try to help her and grabbed the bottle from her companion's hand. She took a long drink of it before pulling the bottle away from her mouth with a grimace. When she spoke next her voice sounded much stronger, and much to Michelle's dismay, was annoyingly back to her customary complaining self.
"Ugh! Couldn't you at least have gotten me some cold water?"
"Sorry, I brought that up when the others carried you in here….." Michelle retorted, biting her tongue to keep from telling the ungrateful woman what she really thought of her complaint, as if lukewarm water was the biggest trouble they faced. "Now, tell me, do you remember anything else about last night?"
"There was a meteor shower…..we went out on the lake to watch the meteor shower…."
"That's right."
"And those crazy people on the beach….what happened to them? They were like wild animals, tearing each other apart."
"We don't know, but apparently it happened all over. The people who own this house, it sounds like they were on the road for hours to get here. Do you remember anything else?" Michelle prodded, silently adding to herself, 'Maybe something that I missed.'
"My foot! Something bit one of my feet when I was soaking them in the water this morning!" She clawed her hands at the blanket in her haste to take a look at her feet, gasping as she caught sight of the blackening veins. "What the hell is happening to me?"
"The fish bit your big toe clean off," Michelle replied uselessly. She couldn't explain the strange infection, if that's what it even was, so she didn't bother to try. It wasn't like anything any of them had seen before.
"I remember that part you idiot! I'm talking about this!" she cried out in a piercing, shrieking tone of voice, jabbing her finger towards the black lines on her leg for emphasis.
"We think it's an infection….." Her voice trailed off weakly, not sure of what to say.
"You think it's an infection?!"
"Here, why don't you take a couple of these?" Michelle suggested, holding out a couple of white pills in an attempt to placate the other woman before she launched herself into full blown hysterics. She'd seen Linda in midst of one of her fits before, it wasn't pretty.
"What are they?"
"Antibiotics, from the medical kit, they'll probably help that infection from getting any worse…."
Linda snatched them from her hand and choked them down with another swallow of the lukewarm water she disdained so much. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off her leg, yet when she reached her hand down to touch it her hand paused inches away from it, as though she couldn't bring herself to touch it.
"You try to get some more rest and I'll head downstairs to find you some cooler water," Michelle suggested, grasping on what might be her only opportunity for a reprieve from Linda's foul mood.
"As if I can rest now," muttered Linda, shifting uncomfortably.
"Is something wrong? I mean besides the obvious of course….."
"My toe was bitten off by a goddamn fish, it looks like somebody had a field day on my leg with a magic marker, I ache all over, and now I'm starting to itch, so hell yes I'd say that there's something wrong!"
"I wasn't suggesting…."
"And I'm hungry! Do you think I could have something to eat?" she snarled.
'Anything else your holy pain-in-my-ass?' Michelle thought bitterly. Out loud she somehow managed to sound almost sympathetic when she assured the injured woman that she'd raid the kitchen for some food, and then see about finding some painkillers for her. With a great sigh of relief, she finally closed the door behind her and dashed down the stairs, following the sound of pounding hammers to locate the others.
The hammers fell silent long after darkness had rolled in and surrounded the house. Not that any of the occupants of the lower level could see the outside. They'd managed to seal off all of the windows to the outside using spare lumber from the garage and boathouse, as well as closet doors and even bits of furniture to cover them up from within. On the outside, the once decorative shutters had been closed and nailed shut as well. Not much of a defense really, but just seeing them boarded up like that gave the survivors a little more peace of mind.
Cally thought she'd never felt so tired in her life as she did now, pounding the last nail through what had once been one of her mother's beloved mahogany end tables over the window above the kitchen sink. Finished at last, she let the hammer fall from her stiff, aching fingers with a clatter onto the floor.
She grimaced when she looked at her hands; blisters covered the tops of her palms and the undersides of her fingers. Most of them had burst; a few had been rubbed raw and were bleeding in places. "That's going to hurt in the morning," she muttered to herself as she trudged from the room. In the hallway, she was surprised to realize how quiet the house suddenly seemed; almost as if the others had disappeared and left her alone. Even though she knew they had to be around somewhere, she couldn't help the panicky feeling that overtook her, making her rush into the nearest room in search of the others. Dashing into the living room, she almost tripped over Shelly who'd been squatting just inside the doorway, half-heartedly dropping a bunch of nails back into an old coffee can.
"Shit," Cally grunted, catching hold of the door frame to keep from falling, and scraping some more skin off of her already abused hands in the process. Caught off guard, Shelly tumbled onto her backside and the coffee can and nails went flying.
"Christ, Cal, where's the fire?" Shelly grumbled, sending an evil look at the once again scattered nails. Then, with a sudden intake of breath, she leapt to her feet squealing, "Oh my god, they're here aren't they?! They found us?" Her head snapped back and forth, looking wildly around as if she either expected zombies to break in and attack them any minute, or for a safe place to hide.
"Shhhh, it's okay," Cally tried to sooth her. "It was just me freaking myself out, they're not here, I was being stupid," she repeated over and over. She grasped the other woman's arms and forced her to meet her eyes, as though through sheer force of will alone she'd be able to convince her friend that they were safe. Hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway, making both of them tense up in fear for a moment. Then Mark burst into the room, Jessie, Kurt, and Nathan following close behind.
Everyone seemed to speak at once, questions and accusations flying, until at last William, the last to arrive, shook has head and shouted "Silence!"
It was like someone had thrown a switch the way they all ceased their arguments to look his way, 'What the fuck' expressions on most of their faces. William smiled, looking pleased with himself. "I just thought that if none of us was in immediate, life-threatening danger, then perhaps we could start taking like rational adults," he said casually. The others remained quiet, mainly because it was the most talking any of them had heard the big man do since his arrival.
"Nothing more to add? Good. As long as we have that all settled, who's hungry?" he asked, continuing to ignore their stares. "We can take advantage of the fact that we still have some juice on and enjoy at least one decent meal. And maybe while we're at it we should discuss some ideas for a rational plan of action when those things do show up. I doubt they'll leave us alone for long, we may as well be prepared for it."
Mark opened his mouth to speak, presumably to protest. Before he could, Kurt spoke up and agreed with William's assessment of things. Eventually, despite a few mumbles and grumbles, they all found themselves sitting around on what remained of the living room furniture. They enjoyed a hot meal, and managed to pretend, if only for a short time, that the world hadn't fallen apart around them.
During the meal that night, Kurt found himself looking at the additions to their group with a newfound sense of respect. Of the men, he still found himself not trusting Nate, but the others seemed to be okay. During the barricading of the house he'd discovered that William had been a Marine. He'd seen action in Vietnam, surviving not one but four separate tours there. In Kurt's book the man was definitely someone who could prove to be useful in this situation, if they could keep him from drinking himself into a stupor that is.
He glanced surreptitiously around the table and wasn't surprised to see Nate's eyes darting away when he looked in his direction. The guy would probably offer up his own mother to those zombie creatures if it meant saving his own ass.
Next his eyes fell on Michelle and Linda. Michelle, like William, was another questionable surprise. She was quick to volunteer her efforts, anything from nursing Linda to dismantling furniture for the barricades. Her flat out refusal to even consider handling a weapon was troubling, but he was fairly certain she'd change her mind the minute those things showed up on their doorstep. Linda was willing to be armed, but seeing as though she was pretty well zoned out on the painkillers she'd started popping like candy, no one really wanted to see a gun in her hand. Despite her very long, very drawn out protests, the group summarily voted against arming her.
On the plus side, the injured woman was showing some improvement, at least enough to show off her newfound appetite during dinner. Her choice of entrée, which was a practically raw hamburger, made some of them blanch as they watched the bloody juices run down her chin. Cally pushed her half full plate of food away entirely, her own appetite disappearing at the sight. She later told Kurt that it had reminded her a little too much of seeing her old neighbor lady eating the dead man's arm on the lawn that very morning.
At last Kurt's eyes fell on Zack. He didn't have any military background, and the closest thing to survival training he'd had was a year in the Boy Scouts. But he seemed comfortable enough handling firearms, and the more people who could shoot should the worst happen the better in Kurt's opinion. Whether or not the man could hit anything was still up in the air, but at least he could trusted not to shoot his own foot off or something equally dumb.
So many angles to consider and so far he was only focusing on the newcomers, his own mixed up group of friends were another problem all together. He was starting feel like a contestant on one of those ridiculous reality TV shows, only here, if you made the wrong choices you weren't just voted off the show, you died. Well, sort of died anyway.
William took the floor, so to speak, towards the end of dinner, distracting everyone else from their personal musings.
"Now that we've got this place a little more secure and our bellies are full, I think it's time we start talking about setting up the watch schedule. We'll need to get the rotation going so we can keep alert eyes out for those zombie creatures day and night. Maybe start planning out some possible escape routes too, just in case the worst happens and they overrun the house."
Linda surprisingly beat Mark in their unending race to out complain each other. "What the devil do we need to have watches for?! Especially tonight of all nights, I think we can all agree that we're safe here for at least one night," she whined. "Or was all that fucking hammering and pounding keeping me awake all day for nothing."
"Those things aren't going to get in here, not after all the barricading we put up!" Mark added. "We're safe here."
"We're fairly safe for tonight," William corrected, "but we still need stay vigilant. I'll even volunteer for the first watch. And no place is going to be totally safe, Mark, only safer."
"Well there's no way you can possibly expect me to stand guard, pacing the floor all night long," Linda retorted, ignoring Mark's outburst and William's less than reassuring response. "Especially since none of you sees fit to give me a gun."
"Of course not, you need to rest and regain your strength. Like I said, we'll probably be safe tonight, but won't you feel a little safer going to sleep knowing we're watching anyway?"
There was a little more verbal sparring, but eventually William's words seemed to have a soothing effect on Linda since she fell silent for the remainder of the meal. Although in truth, that could have been more a result of the painkillers, especially with the way her eyes seemed to go out of focus and glazed. The others took advantage of the quiet and put together a rough watch schedule to at least get them through till morning. They'd deal with the rest of it then.
They all made their way up the stairs, Linda and Michelle returning to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Four more rooms dotted the upper level, two each facing the front and rear of the house respectively. Mark and Zack took one of the rooms facing the front of the house, yet furthest from the master bedroom, "all the better to ignore Linda's complaints," Mark had grumbled as he sent one last longing look at Jessie as she and Shelly headed into the room that had been David's.
That left the four volunteers alone in the hallway for a moment, where the tension between Kurt and Nate was so thick it was almost palpable. Sensing the odd, testosterone fueled antagonism, Cally came to the rescue by saying, "Why don't Kurt and I take the last room towards the rear, you guys cover the front."
"One person on while the other sleeps, and no more than 3 hours each. We can't afford to have anyone falling asleep on the job," William instructed, and the two teams went their separate ways.
Cally listened to the door close behind Kurt and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence before he spoke. "You grab a few hours of rack time; I'll sit the first watch."
"I'm not tired," she whispered, but her words were drowned out by the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor and the rattle of the French doors to the balcony being opened. With a frustrated sigh she stalked out into the warm night air and grasped the railing as she stared out into the night.
"Look Cal, I can tell you're exhausted, go grab some shut eye, I'll be fine out here," he said, dropping himself down onto the desk chair.
"I told you, I'm not tired."
"Look, I know you've been through a lot today…."
"That's an understatement."
"But letting yourself get run down this early in the game isn't going to solve anything."
Cally sighed, and turned to face him. Time seemed to freeze as they stood staring at each other, but it couldn't have been more than moments before she seemed to deflate right before his eyes. Without a word she sat down, her back to the railing, her knees drawn up to her chest.
"Cal?"
She didn't answer, just rested her arms across the tops of her knees and let her head fall until her forehead rested upon them.
"Cal?" he tried again.
When her answer came it was so quiet that he almost didn't hear her.
"I'm scared."
"It's okay," he replied as he dropped from the chair and seated himself on the floor in front of her. "It's been a crazy, mad day, and you've seen things nobody should ever have to see…..I don't know. You wouldn't be human if something like this didn't freak you out. But we're going to be okay, for tonight anyway. We're going to be fine," he finished lamely.
She shook her head, still not looking at him. "It's not that. Not only that."
"What then?"
"I'm afraid to close my eyes. Afraid that I'm going to see old Mrs. Herbert noshing on someone's arm or leg. Afraid that those things are still going to be chasing us, only this time I don't drive away fast enough. Afraid I'm going to see David's head exploding in front of me over and over again….."
"Hey….Cal…..cut the survivor guilt crap," Kurt said, shifting uncomfortably. He'd much rather face some of those zombies right now than deal with a crying female. Maybe he should have waited a moment and said something a little more politically correct, something to assuage her feelings of guilt and ease her fears. But that wasn't how he dealt with problems, better to face them head on and get them over with.
"What the fu….."
"So what do you think happened?" he asked, cutting her off before she could really start ranting and trying to change the subject to something a little more palatable for him. 'If you don't feel like fighting with her about her feelings, then distract her with something even more abstract and mysterious,' he thought.
"What?"
"What do you think caused the world to turn upside down and people to start eating each other?"
"Well that was blunt," she retorted.
"You know me, short and to the point. And the point right now that you're dancing around is what the hell caused people to suddenly go ape-shit and start eating each other?"
"I don't know, some kind of biological warfare stuff maybe."
He looked rifle he held loosely across his lap, keeping his head down so she wouldn't see the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. If this worked, she'd definitely get her mind off the guilt thing and replace it with something even more powerful. "You mean that some kind of virus escaped from a super-secret military lab somewhere?"
"Yeah, some kind of crazy virus that makes people go all weird….and we're the only ones left."
"Just us?" he prodded.
"Well, there're probably more people out there," she conceded, warming to the topic a little now. "We should probably start trying to come up with a way to contact them. I think my parents have an old CB radio around here somewhere. Maybe it still works."
"And then we can paint big signs with directions on it with where we're going. After we dream of where we need to go of course," he suggested, struggling to keep a straight face.
"What the hell…..Are you on drugs or something?"
"No, I'm just going with the whole killer plague, finding survivors, theme. Sounds familiar to me…..oh wait, I've got it now. Stephen King. The Stand. Ring any bells for you? Although, I gotta admit, the killer plague in that didn't literally turn people into killers but….you know…."
Without warning Cally hauled off and punched him. "You're such a dick!"
Kurt just laughed, waving his hands as if to surrender. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. That biological warfare thing is just so clichéd."
Cally just shook her head.
"What? You don't think so?"
"No, when you're right, you're right. I can't think of a single zombie movie that didn't have some kind of virus in it. Except the Romero movies."
"That Day of the Dead remake we watched last weekend had a virus in it," Kurt countered.
"Oh no, that was a remake, and had absolutely nothing to do with Romero's movie, aside from maybe borrowing some of the character's names. And besides that, who in their right mind would cast Mena Suvari as some kind of bad ass soldier? Puh-lease. The whole thing was just a bad idea from start to finish."
Kurt laughed again. The female crying crisis had successfully been diverted, and now was as good a time as any to try something he'd been meaning to do for months. Without giving her any sign of his intention, he leaned forward and kissed her.
Mark dropped down onto one of the twin beds with a groan. Maybe once Zack fell asleep he could sneak over to the girls' room and climb into bed with Jessie. Stacking his hands behind his head he imagined what Shelley's reaction to that little encounter would be, especially since the girls would be sharing a bed. That brought a smile to his face, he wouldn't mind being the meat in that sandwich, and too bad they'd never go along with it. In fact, they'd probably try to castrate him if he even suggested it. But that knowledge didn't stop him from thinking about how that little threesome scenario would play out in a perfect world, until he drifted off to sleep, completely oblivious to Zack's soft snoring in the background.
A panicked shriek and an all too familiar snarl startled Kurt and Cally apart almost as soon as the kiss had begun. For half a heartbeat they froze, terror washing over her face, while confusion filled his as they realized that the sounds were coming from within the house. They leapt to their feet, drawing their HK MK23's and rushing for the door.
"Where…?"
"Linda's room," he answered even before she could finish her question. The sound of slamming doors and pounding footsteps reverberated through the house as they simultaneously reached their own door.
"Do you think they're out there?" Cally asked breathlessly as he moved to fling open the door.
"Michelle! Michelle! Open the door! Linda!" Nathan's voice could be heard booming down the length of the corridor.
"I'd say its all clear," Kurt mumbled, wrenching the door open and striding out into the hallway, weapon at the ready. They were just in time to see Mark kick open the door.
"Oh Jesus!" he cried, jumping back from the door as whatever was inside the room snarled and rushed the door. Without hesitating Nathan raised his shotgun and fired. The shot echoed through the house, punctuated by something that sounded vaguely like an exploding watermelon.
"Michelle?" Zack whispered, cautiously creeping forward into the room, stepping carefully around what remained of Linda. Nathan brushed the younger man aside, heading toward the prone, bloody form sprawled across the bed. A low moan rose up, letting them know that she was still alive.
Kurt felt Cally grab hold of his hand as they neared the bed, taking in the sight of Michelle's mangled, bloody face. Large chunks of meat appeared to have been bitten from her cheeks, and most of her mouth was gone too. More bite marks trailed down her arms, probably defensive injuries. It wasn't a pretty sight.
"Michelle," Nathan said softly.
"Hep…muh," she gurgled wetly through the shredded remains of her lips. Nathan and Kurt shared a look, before the younger man stepped forward, weapon raised, and unloaded on shot cleanly through the center of her forehead. Behind them Shelley screamed, while someone, Zack most likely, emptied his stomach of whatever was left of his dinner.
Nathan was the first to speak, his voice cold and detached as he addressed the rest of the group. "She would have become one of them too, we didn't have a choice."
Together he and Kurt wrapped the two corpses up in the bloodied bedding and, with William and Mark's reluctant help, carried them out to the boat house. They'd have to figure out what to do with the bodies in the morning.
