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I'm hungry, and I know they're hungry, but the uptight **** who though she knew everything said they couldn't be hungry. Then she got caught by them outside of the fence. My side nearly busted when she found out how wrong she was. The laughter stopped when the old man came running out shouting that she had stolen the rest of the rations. At least we were able to recover most of the rations from torn sack.
That was a week ago and those of us still here can see the **** stumble along the outside of the fence with her small intestine tailing her. At first they run but with few days of bacteria eating away at their muscles they start to slow. In a month most of them can no longer move. Yet it has already been one year, nine months, and twenty-six days. The **** would've blamed it's continuance on me.
It's my turn at watch right now. It isn't a hard job just look pass the white gravel to the fence and make sure that none of them get over. Though looking to the west and having the sun shine in my face isn't what I would call fun. Looking to the north isn't much better; just more trees and more of them. I strain my eyes looking to the east with my neck protesting. I see the gas pump and the old man. Great he's walking over here. How should I welcome our despot, our tyrant always issuing orders and always asking questions.
Marty, the old man, sits to my right. When I first met time he told me he'd been here for a little over a year. For the last week he's been intruding on my peace asking me how I came to be here. I sit waiting for him to ask his question, but he just sits there with his grey hair and wrinkled face, so close to the ones outside. My grip tightens on the rifle in my lap. My knuckles turn white. He still just sits there breathing, but I know he's thinking that he's better. My chair falls over as I stand up, the rifle points at the sky. "Marty, you want to know why I'm here. Fine, it's because I lost my home and killed my wife."
Marty sits there with his chest hardly rising. I want to punch him, to knock him to the ground, to put my gun in his mouth and fire. My rifle dips down to point at him. I know he's going to pull his gun out now. I look down to see his right hand twisting a ring on his left. Has he gone through it all too, does he live with it all? The gun points at the ground. I close my eyes.
I was about a mile away from home, going about fifty, when a mud covered kid came running out onto the street. The tires squealed, the brakes screeched and the kid caused my car to bounce like it was going over a speed bump. The car skidded a few more yards and came to a halt. I got out as fast as I could and ran over to the kid. Its body was shattered with ribs poking out of its chest. Its arms and legs were broken. It was caked with mud too red for our brown dirt. I bent down to check for a heartbeat. It tried to lunge for my face but could only get its head and shoulders off the ground. The smell of decay and copper hit my nose. I stumbled backwards on to my ass. I managed to get to my knees before I vomited.
Marty grabs my shoulder and gives it a good clench. He says it's dinner time. I open my eyes and look to the west. The sun bright light leaves red impressions on my eyes when I blink. I set my chair back up and follow Marty to the metal mesh and glass door of the grey concrete building. The door is set open to let the cool air come in. We walk into the main room where a fold-away card table is set up with folding chairs placed around it. The shelves that stand around the room were once loaded with canned food, toilet paper, ammunition, and propane tanks. Now there is only canned soup, three boxes of five hundred rifle rounds, four propane tanks, and our air mattresses. Oh God, I wish we still had toilet paper.
A woman some twenty years my senior, Rebecca, comes out carrying a big pot with steam coming off the top. She sets the pot on the table and goes back into the kitchen. Rebecca was probably a big woman but now, like the rest of us, wears a rope tied around her waist in place of a belt. I put my rifle onto the gun rack next to Marty's gun. Marty and me take our seats facing the entrance. The entrance has the gun rack on the left side and a three inch metal sheet set on sliders on the other.
Rebecca complains from the kitchen that the young are never on time. Marty gets up, I assume the old man either has to use the restroom or is going to go gather the kids. Marty is at the door when the kids, Dan and Sarah, come in from outside. Dan's Face is sporting a big smile and Sarah is clinging to his arm. I chuckle remembering what being a teenager is like. Sarah grimaces at me before she and Dan sit down. Rebecca comes out of the kitchen with bowls, spoons, and a ladle. Marty takes the bowls and spoons from her. She ladles the soup into each of the bowls and Marty places them around the table. I wait for them to sit down before I start to eat. Rebecca insists on having prayers though, so we go through prayers every meal. I don't mind too much, I would rather just eat. We finish our prayer and we begin to eat. It's cream of mushroom and while I can't stand the taste my wife loved it.
We were on the road. She was watching the news when I got home. She knew more about what was going on than I did and she was all too eager to get out of town. She said that the news said that inside towns it was worse. I believed her so I helped her into the car and we got on the road. It was my duty to protect her and our soon to be born children. I prayed at the steering wheel.
The kids are on clean up duty today. Dan takes the empty pot into the kitchen and Sarah following gets the empty bowls. Marty and I reinforce the entrance by sliding the metal sheet over the door. Rebecca folds up the table and the chairs. Marty and me help her put them against the wall. I grab my gun from the rack and go into the kitchen. The pot is sitting in the chrome sink, the bowls and spoons are setting on the counter top. I should've knocked I think as I look down at Dan and Sarah on the floor. Dan grabs his shirt and puts it over his crotch. Sarah is beet red as she hides behind Dan. I step around the limbs on the floor and make my way to the ladder at the far side of the kitchen. I climb up to the ceiling and push the cover open. On my hand and knees I crawl onto the roof. I stand up and close the cover with my foot. It's pretty plain up here with just a plastic picnic table and two chairs.
The moon is out tonight so having a lamp would just be a waste of propane. All around trees and vegetation can be seen; with only the compound and that leads to it being a grey break in the sea of gold. Ann would've loved it out here. At least she would like it if they didn't stalk the outside of the fence. They are everywhere, no matter where you go they seem to pop up.
My cell phone buzzed once, then twice before I picked it up. Ann was asleep with her head against the window. So I said quietly "Hello." It was Lloyd he was my friend, co-worker, from the lab. He was yelling into the phone that his car had broken down. He needed a pick up.
"I'm sorry I can't." I cut off the call and turn off the phone. Ann stirs to my right.
"Who called?"
"Long distance service, go back to sleep."
Marty climbs up the ladder with his gun and sits down next to me. I ask him how he found this place. He tells me about how for the last ten years he had been basically using these woods for a summer house. Camping for weeks at a time just fishing and hunting for survival. Laughing he tells me, "and if none of that worked out I just headed here for a burger. We sat there looking up at the stars and at the fence. It was around midnight judging from the moon when Marty tells me "Go down and get some sleep you have body shoving duty tomorrow."
I'm going down the ladder when I look at him and see that he is twisting his wedding ring. It's dark down below so I feel my way to the mattress that has been laid out for me. I slip my shoes off and lay down.
We had made it to a motel in the middle of nowhere. My wife told me that something feels wrong. "Of course something feels wrong, the dead don't stay down."
"No, it's something with the babies.." Ann was laying down on the bed she had two comforters on top of her. I pushed the comforters off of her. I pulled her shirt up. I placed my ear against the swell. Her skin was cold and I could feel movement, but I couldn't hear the heart beats.
I went and got more blankets to try and warm her. They didn't help. I pulled up a chair next to the bed and held her hand in mine. "I'm going to die."
"No you're not."
"Don't let me become one of them." I looked at the hand gun on the dresser. Ann only nodded when I looked back at her. "A bullet to the brain and they don't get back up."
"I can't-"
"You can." I picked up the gun. It was fidgeting in my hands. I placed the barrel against her head. "I love-" My finger slipped. The noise was deafening. The gun slipped from my hands. It fell to the floor. The thud was louder than the shot.
I sat there trembling. I picked up the gun. I put the barrel into my mouth. My index finger wouldn't even move, couldn't even slip. I saw movement from underneath the covers. I pulled the covers off her. The skin over her stomach was being parted by tiny fingers worn down to the bone. I saw the head of my first child come out of the womb. My gun was still shaking but my finger didn't slip when I blew its head off. It didn't even twitch when the second head came out. I covered the bodies with the blankets. I walked out of the room closing the door behind me. I collapsed against wall and went to sleep.
It's hard work shoving the immobile bodies away from the fence. It also stinks. Doing this everyday prevents them from getting over the fence. Even though the new ones have enough muscle coordination to run they lack it for climbing. That's not to say that they can't stumble over a fence if you gave them a big enough ramp. We won't be able to shove the bodies away to much longer, seeing how there is a fairly pile behind the one I'm pushing. Oh well, just the north and west sides to finish once I'm done with this one. I wish I didn't draw the short straw for chores today.
Marty shouts from the roof. "We've got company at the gate and the welcoming party has already gotten there." Great, I have to run over to the west side now. I throw the PVC pipe up against the building and start to run to the gate. I turn the corner of the building and run pass the gas pump. I pull out my hand gun. It's a woman and a car. The mother is at the gate's lock and so is Dan and Sarah. Sarah yells at the woman to get back into the car. I get to the fence as Dan unlocks it. Dan and me push open the gate. The car drives in. We start to push the gate close. The **** stumbles in and grabs Dan's arm. The **** sinks her teeth in. Dan screams in pain. Sarah is stops for a moment then she screams and raises her rifle. The **** gets hit in the shoulder, falling backwards outside of the fence line, letting go of Dan. I push the gate until it latches. Sarah goes over to Dan and helps him to the building. I put the lock back onto the gate and head over to the car.
The woman steps out of the car. There is a bloody hole on the left side of skirt. The woman looks sick, with her veins pulsing red against her skin. A child comes out of the car and holds her hand. She looks at me in the eyes. I falter; she knows she is going to die. I stand there as Marty runs pass me. Marty and the woman talk. After a while he bends down to talk to the child. Marty looks at me and then the child looks at me. The child lets go of the woman's hand and walks over to me.
The child comes over. "Hi my name is Grace; the old guy said you had food." I look down and the girl and smile is trembling.
"I'm sure we can find something."
My car ran out of gas in the middle of bum-**** nowhere. I knew it was going to eventually happen but it didn't make me anymore prepared for it. I grabbed the duffel from the back seat and packed it with the two cans of Campbell's Tomato Soup, and the mostly empty pack of ammo. When I got out of the car I noticed just how much sit I was in. The moans carried on the southern wind. Where they gather, people gather. In the hope of a refuge I headed south.
Rebecca is comforting Grace by the kitchen door. They've been like that since her mother killed herself a day ago. Dan is lying down on his mattress. His left arm is bandage up and Sarah is sitting to his right. Even though the light in here isn't very good, we can still see that Dan is flush. Sarah places her hand on Dan's forehead. "The fever isn't going down." We all knew that, hoping otherwise would just be foolish. The things on the other side aren't deadly because venom but because they're a breeding ground for opportunistic everyday bacteria. Dan starts to talk and Sarah bends down to listen. We all know what is being said. Rebecca hugs Grace to her chest. Sarah looks up from Dan and asks for a gun. I give her mine. She asks if she could get some help taking Dan out back. Marty and me volunteer.
We leave the two lovers out back. When we get back in we hear a gunshot. Then crying and another gunshot.
I had just made it into the fenced compound when the **** came up saying crap about how only God's chosen will live through this Hell on Earth. Marty walked up to me and shook my hand. The **** shouted at Marty, saying something about letting the devil in.
Marty and me are digging the two newer graves next to Grace's mother's grave. We know that these three nearly headless corpses won't get back up and threaten our safety. They moan at us from across the fence. Do they wonder why these corpses aren't joining their legion? Do they care? Surely there has got to be a reason for them to be up.
"They're not hungry." I just nodded my head along as she talked. Every day she came out to torment me with her statements. Marty said she was mad and I believe him whole heartedly. The **** picked up a baseball bat and slugged me in the arm with it. I yelled in pain and grasped my arm. The **** raised the bat above her head and Marty yanked it out of her hands. She fell to the floor screaming about how I branded them all with my mark.
Marty places the last bit of dirt into the hole and pats it down. Rebecca comes out baring a tray of glasses. I take mine and take a gulp. My face puckers.
"I found some lemonade mix in one of the storage cabinets in the kitchen." No one makes a comment about there being no sugar in it. Forgetting the situation was easy till Grace runs to us carrying my rifle. She points at the north side of the fence. They're starting to go over the top of the fences using the corpses as stepping stones. I grab my rifle from Grace and run to get closer to the fence. Only one of them has gotten over so far. It takes me two shots before it falls to the ground headless.
Hours pass and I smell burning flesh before I see Marty run up next to me carrying a gas can in each hand. He nods to me and runs to the fence. One of them has gotten near the top, I line up my sights and fire. It spins and tumbles away from the impact to its shoulder. Marty splashes the biggest mound of flesh with gasoline. He lights a match and throws it on the mound. Flames leap high touching the golden leafs above. We head inside. There are four gas cans by the entrance. Marty tells us to pack up.
"It's the runners who catch you, but it's the slow ones that kill you." I said to the **** as she got tackled. The slow ones caught up to her then. They scratched and bit at her stomach. She screamed. Me and Marty not long after we first met decided that they go for the stomach first so that their prey lives longer. They pull out her stomach, their trophy, and they dig in. They get to the small intestine before she dies.
Modifié par dlm0290, 07 décembre 2009 - 04:01 .
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