Dead soil box set books.., p.65
Dead Soil Box Set | Books 1-3, page 65
part #1 of Dead Soil Box Set Series
The two girls huffed from the exertion as they circled around, trying to see if there were any more they had to contend with. All was quiet. They were in the clear.
“Good work,” Olivia said with laughter, holding her hand up to give Imani a high five.
Imani slapped her hand and bent over to try to catch her breath better. “Thanks,” she laughed breathily. “You too.”
“Yeah,” Luke said, finally coming out of hiding to join them as if he’d been there all along. “Good work you two.”
They looked at him as if he were nothing more than a ghost, an insignificant speck of energy that for some reason felt the need to keep following them around.
“Thanks…”Olivia said when Imani refused to open her tightly pursed lips.
“Yeah, for nothing,” she said under her breath.
Luke hadn’t heard what his daughter said. “I thought I was going to have to jump in there. You know, take care of business.” He gave some pathetic attempts at karate chops that in any other situation would have been comical. “But you girls seemed like you had it under control.”
Olivia’s thick brows rose in quick amusement before furrowing again. And then onward they went, further down the road to the next possible stop to finding Lee. The area was riddled with the undead, starving and searching endlessly. The girls decided to make a game of their kills. After all, they were comparable in size and weapon. Either one had a fair chance of becoming the next zombie killing champion of the end of the world! The girls laughed as they joked about the hypothetical trophy, each one swearing they were going to be the one to carry it high over their heads in the end.
Luke watched the two of them in confusion, and honestly with a little jealousy. How could they be so casual about these murderous, ravenous monsters? How could smashing in the heads of things that looked just like people, that were once not too long ago actual people, not bother them? How could they be laughing? Where had he gone wrong in raising his daughter? He realized it was the new world they lived in that had raised Imani and not him. The world made her callous to death and gore. He had no hand in that at all. When his daughter laughed as he bat took down yet another zombie a shiver crawled up his bent spine as he sat hunched over in hiding behind a tree. What was wrong with his daughter?
Imani looked over her shoulder. Even though it was dark she could easily pick out her dad’s trembling dark form crouching behind the trunk of a thin tree. What is wrong with my father, she asked herself with a roll of her large brown eyes. If he would just try to adapt to the world they lived in now instead of hiding from it, he might actually find out that it’s not so bad. He might even thrive. She let out a huff of laughter from between her lips at the thought. The day her dad picked up a weapon and defended anyone instead of relying on the skilled hands of others is the day she rides a rainbow on the back of unicorn.
The image made her chuckle again. She felt the burning gaze of her father’s eyes in the back of her head, judging her. What did she care, though? He had no right to judge anyone. She would never admit it, not even to herself, but there were little whispers of desires deep inside her, a desire to see one of these things take her father out of this world so she wouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of protecting him at every turn anymore.
“What’s that?” Imani said, ignoring those feelings and pointing to something unusual up ahead in the parking lot of the next store they approached.
From the distance and in the dead of night, it looked like someone had left an enormous bag slumped up against a car, but why would someone do that? Then it moved. The girls readied their bats and walked forward cautiously. Then it winced in pain as it shifted on the ground. Imani and Olivia looked to each other, their eyes widening to perfect circles.
“Lee!” Olivia cried out as she bolted toward the shadowed form. “Lee!”
Imani was right behind her. They didn’t care if they made more noise than they should, even with Luke jogging casually behind them and shushing them. They could handle whatever came their way, but they had to know that very moment if it was Lee slumped over there or not. Olivia’s legs couldn’t carry her over there fast enough. She came to a skidding halt, slipping on something slick and wet on the ground.
She gently raised the man’s head from his shoulder to look him in the face. “Lee,” she said again, this time in a whisper.
“Hey,” Lee answered, though his voice was strained. It looked like it took everything he had in him just to keep his eyes open to see her.
“Oh, my gosh, Lee, are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Olivia panicked. That’s when she realized something from her hands had come off on his face, something dark and warm and sticky; blood.
“I’ll be fine,” Lee said, but Olivia could hear in his voice that he didn’t believe it.
VII
Silent tears flowed from Carolyn’s eyes like waterfalls. She felt numb inside. She wished she felt numb on the outside with how heavily she’d been beaten over the last few days. They passed endlessly so she wasn’t sure how long she’d even been held prisoner to the mysterious small group. Days turned to nights and nights turned to days and somewhere along the way she lost count as she drifted in and out of consciousness, trying hard to stand firm and keep her lips sealed.
“Two more just showed their heads, sir,” a young man that couldn’t have been more than a few years out of high school said in a deep and gruff voice Carolyn suspected he was putting on to seem tougher, older, more like the leader of this group, the man Carolyn deemed ‘sir’ because that was all she ever heard anyone address him as.
Sir was down on one knee a mere three feet in front of Carolyn. His face rested on the palm of his hand as his arm was supported by his thigh. He cocked his head this way and that, considering Carolyn deeply and all she knew, as if she were a code he could crack with sheer will. “Sounds good, kid. Keep an eye on them. If they emerge you know what to do.”
Carolyn wanted to scream out for them to stop this madness, to not kill any more of her people. Three bodies, including Mac’s, lay strewn somewhere on the forest floor, hidden beneath the fresh fallen leaves and debris, most likely never to be found unless by a desperately hungry zombie. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t; she didn’t have it in her. Her lips were sore, split, and bruised, swollen to twice their size. It hurt to speak which helped her to not cave into their demands for more information on what lie beneath the surface of the seemingly abandoned farm. One of her eyes was swollen shut and crusted over with gunk from falling in and out of sleep. It was most likely infected. She wondered how long that would take to kill her if that was the case. Most days she wished she would fall asleep and never wake up again. Then she would chastise herself for it, knowing it was a selfish wish. She had to get back to the bunker to warn them about this group coming for them. If she didn’t, everyone might die, lost to the world like Mac and the others. If she didn’t warn them it would all be over; her group would cease to exist like they never had in the first place.
“I have to hand it to you,” the one they called Sir said. His voice was encouraging, uplifting even, but his face was still contorted with disgruntled wrinkles and shadowed, tired eyes. “You just keep going. You're one tough cookie to crack, that’s for sure. But crack you will, little lady, and when you do all this pain will be over.”
Everything inside her wanted to lash out and spit in his face. She took in a ragged breath, trying to summon any energy she had left in there but she was depleted. Her shoulders sunk as she sat on her knees, her legs tingling from the lack of circulation.
Suddenly, the flick of a bow string sounded not too far off. Carolyn flinched and then heard it again. Two arrows had been released and they were followed by one piercing, high-pitched scream of agony. The tears resumed, picking up in intensity. Her face wanted to scrunch together to release the grief built up inside her fully but it was painful to move any muscles. Instead, she let them flow silently once more and stared into the face of the man who had ordered two more of her people be murdered in cold blood. He stared back, unfazed by the hatred that exhumed from her eyes.
The screams turned to moans which turned to whimpering. She wasn’t sure if her hearing was more acute because of her hyper awareness of what was going on around her, because of the adrenaline that coursed through her veins and kept her alive and alert, or if they were really that close to the tree line but it was like the dying bunker dweller was right next to her. This lasted for an entire minute before it gave way to nothingness again, silence taking over the dark night once more.
“Ready to talk yet or do you want to listen to more of your friends die tonight?”
VIII
Inside the bunker, everyone was gathered in the living room, huddled together in fear. Two of their young men had gone looking for the others who disappeared. They all listened as they walked down the dirt hallway and climbed up the ladder to the hatch. They held their breath as they opened the hatch to make sure there was nothing waiting to devour them on the surface. The held hands tightly as they heard the hatch close softly. One of the boy’s mothers hugged her husband, letting him wrap his big, strong arms around her until she thought she would be crushed. She needed it. There was no denying something strange was going on up on the surface of the world, and because of it their own were no longer returning. She cried into her husband’s shoulder as she imagined the painful hours she’d have to wait, worrying about her only son as she prayed he would come back to her. He was an adult, moved out of the house when the apocalypse struck, but since then their family had been reunited and they’d been together every day since, helping each other survive. Now she felt like she was serving her son up to the dead on a platter, if that was in fact what was behind the disappearances. But what else could it be?
It wasn’t long before the sounds of someone wailing in pain up above traveled down the hatch and into the bunker. The woman grabbed on tighter to her husband and buried her face. He rest his head on top of hers and let the tears fall without a sound. He had to be strong for his wife, but he recognized the cries above; it was their son. Something had him. Something was destroying him. He pushed his wife out of the way and ran for the darkened tunnel that led to above. His arms pumped as his legs moved barely touching the dirt floor. But something grabbed him and yanked him off his path. Svend wrapped both his arms around the determined father and held him in place. He struggled against the giant Swede but it was no use.
“Let me go! That’s my son!” he yelled but Svend wouldn’t budge.
“That’s my son!” the man yelled again, though his wild frenzy was fizzling. He dropped to his knees, his head hung low. Svend let him fall, standing behind him though he knew he wasn’t going to try to move again. The man threw himself forward, covering his face with his hands as his shoulder wracked with sobs. “That’s my son.”
Svend reached down to rest a hand on the man’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He looked up to the rest of the bunker dwellers watching with wide, round, tear-filled eyes. The man’s wife had found a friend to comfort her, an older woman her shushed her and rubbed her back without ceasing. Mac, their encouraging leader, was gone. Four of their men were gone. Olivia, Imani, Luke, Lee, Carolyn; all were gone. Their numbers were shrinking at an alarming rate. Something had to be done.
“Something is happening,” Svend started, hoping what he had to say made sense to them since his English wasn’t the best. In his heart he knew what he wanted to say. He just hoped he had to the words to say it. “Something not good. Something not normal. It is not dead doing this. It is people.”
There was a stirring as everyone whispered to each other, considering what he said. “How do you know that?” someone asked from the back of the room.
Svend shrugged his shoulders. “I do not know. I just know.” He could see the confusion on their faces and sighed. “The dead are slow. They are stupid. They cannot plan attack. You see them come. The people gone did not see anything come. The attacks were smart. Hidden. These are people, I promise you that.”
It seemed like his words had made an impact because several of the older men started to shake their heads, looking to each other to see if they were in agreement.
“They are smart. We will be more smart,” Svend declared, his hand involuntarily moving to the battle axe that hung at his side. “We will come up with better plan and no one else will die.”
The last word hit the grieving parents like a stab to the heart. They both began sobbing again as concerned friends rushed to their sides to comfort them. Svend looked around nervously, hoping this did not derail everyone from being empowered. He wanted to inspire them to fight for what they had because it was the only way they were going to get to keep it.
“We need lookout,” he jumped right in to his plan of action. “You and you,” he said to two middle-aged men standing next to each other, arms folded over their chests stoically. “Check the outside but do not go out, yah?”
The nodded and strolled toward the entrance to the tunnel, disappearing into its darkness like vanishing ghosts in the night.
“Gather weapons. We will fight when time come.”
The theory had sunken in and everyone was onboard with what Svend was proposing. Not a single person shook their head in disagreement or refused to move. Even the father pushed himself up and brushed the dirt from his worn jeans. He wiped his face clean and sniffed back his emotions, bottling them up until this was all over and he could release them again. The older women led his wife away, their arms still cradled around her shoulder as they led her to the weaponry.
One of the men who had just gone into the tunnel came barreling back out again, his chest heaving with the effort of running when he wasn’t used to it. “There’s screaming. We heard yelling in the woods!” he declared to anyone listening. “Sounds like a woman.”
“Carolyn,” Svend said.
“It sounds bad,” the lookout informed them as a crowd formed around him. “I’d say she’d being beaten pretty good out there if I had to guess.”
“How do you know someone’s not being eaten by one of those things?” a frantic women asked as she wrung her hands together in front of her.
“It’s not piercing like a death cry, and it’s also not ending. It’s a steady crying out.”
Svend couldn’t help picturing the small blonde taking punches from men twice her size. His breathing intensified as his large shoulders rose and fell. Burst of hot air shot forth from his nostrils as his eyes narrowed. His hands gripped his axes on either side of his waist and yanked them out of their holders.
“This ends tonight.”
IX
Christine and Zack waited for Jonathan to verify their identity and let them back into the lab. She looked up at the camera, baffled that some people knew how to keep things going when her apartment had been lost to this apocalyptic world so quickly. Liam had tried so hard to give them every advantage and resource he could think of but in the end it all fell to pieces. That was just the world they lived in now.
Jonathan swung the doors open and stood behind the glass as they led the stocky horse carrying its thrashing cargo inside. Blue’s hooves clopped on the tile floor, echoing down every hallway running off the main entryway. This drew everyone in the place out of their offices and work areas, curious to see if Christine and Zack had accomplished their mission or failed it miserably.
It’s like they expected you to fail, Liam’s voice breathed into her. She did her best to ignore him but found herself agreeing. They looked at her with shock and surprise, like they hadn’t expected them to find any fresh zombies let alone two. Anger rose inside her but she squelched it. She shouldn’t assume anything about these people. She didn’t even know them. All she knew was they were the ones who could save her sister and the world, and that was good enough for her. They could think whatever they wanted about her as long as Gretchen came out of this OK.
Dr. Bhatt greeted the couple with a demur grin, her hands folded in front of her. “Welcome back,” she said warmly. “I see you were successful on your trip.”
“Took a while but we got ‘em,” Zack said. His eyes shifted to his feet as he pretended to be watching where Blue placed his hooves so he didn’t get stepped on. Really it ate him upside to not tell everyone the entire truth. Some would say he was keeping information to himself while others would see it as a flat out lie. It ate him up not to know what these people considered it.
“Well, let’s get them to their confinement and start running tests,” she said, waving her arm toward one of the spidering hallways that led to the stairs to the basement.
There was no offer to help them carry the frenzied bodies, she simply showed them the way and let them figure it out. Christine and Zack looked at each other, both rolling their eyes. They were sore, they were tired, and the last thing they wanted to do was lug these fresh zombies around.
“For the greater good,” Zack encouraged himself and Christine as he grabbed the first one slumped over Blue’s back under the arms. He dragged it down to stand upright and Christine grabbed the once-a-woman’s ankles. Both grunted with the effort it took, their feet shuffling in small, quick paces. Lifting these beings was nothing like lifting a living human, who despite their best efforts still helped a little in the process by constricting and tightening muscles to not fall. This woman was dead weight. She had no concept of falling, of being hurt, as she moaned and groaned beneath the strip of tape over her mouth.
When they came back to get the other one they found Jonathan gingerly trying to pick the other woman off the small horse and stand it upright. Its body writhed like an angry snake all bound up. He lost his grip and the body came crashing to the ground, taking part in a sickening version of the worm. Christine and Zack rushed over and lifted together.
