Love & Decay (Season 1): Episode 7 Page 5

Possibly I wouldn’t open that Pandora’s Box until therapists existed again and I could get a prescription for PTSD.

  Right now all I could do was decide to deal with it later and focus on the useful emotions- the ones that would keep me alive.

  So as I repeatedly assaulted this kid’s face until finally he started to bleed around the ears and I heard the crunching of bones whenever my bat connected to the side of his face, I funneled the overwhelming rage I felt for being put in this situation. I didn’t want to kill this things any more than they wanted to be killed.

  I channeled all of my bitterness for losing my family without being able to say goodbye, my undiluted hatred of such an ugly disease that appeared to be unstoppable and uncaring whether these people had lives and loved ones or not. I directed every last ounce of impotent frustration for not being able to be more, be stronger, protect better and provide easily for the ones I loved. And then I concentrated all the immature entitlement and resentment at this entire world because this was not fair. I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t want this. And I sure as hell could not spend the rest of my life fighting off freaking Feeders every single day!

  I looked down at the broken body of the Feeder that thought he could eat my face. His face was a flattened pancake and the entire side of his head caved in- a mixture of bone shards, brain matter and blood.

  Suck on that.

  There was no time to dwell on my victory though because two more were coming my way. I swung at the shorter, middle-aged man and watched as his head flew right off. I choked on vomit and forced my eyes away to the second attacker. As much as I wanted to ignore his short, squat headless body oozing blood and sinking first to limp knees and then all the way forward as if in slow motion, I couldn’t.

  That would forever be burned into my memory.

  The second guy wasn’t as easy as the first. His bone structure was a bit firmer. In the end though, my bat found the place it needed to go and he fell too.

  I was learning a lot from this hand to hand combat session. First, there was a sweet spot on the head and it seemed to be the temple. I vaguely remembered learning about David and Goliath in Sunday school as a child- something about how David killed the giant with a carefully aimed stone to his temple. That was coming in handy.

  And the other thing was that while Feeders were impervious to their own pain, they were also inept at protecting their own bodies. So while I wailed away on their heads where all that important brain matter stayed hidden, they just kept reaching and clawing for me. It didn’t do them any good because I was more agile and quicker.

  Unfortunately there was a never ending supply of them and the sounds of skull cracking and vicious grunting or chilling moaning filled every ounce of space in this warehouse.

  Over my shoulder I noticed Hendrix going to work with the crow bar and next to him Vaughan was taking on three at a time with steel pipe.

  We were giving each other a pretty wide birth, so that we didn’t get caught up in the arc of someone’s deadly swing, but it seemed every space in between was filled with ravenous Feeders desperate to get at our brains.

  I glanced over at Harrison where he stood with King, Nelson and Haley- all of them protecting that space where Page and Tyler were hiding. For a moment I panicked when I spotted Miller. He wasn’t hiding this time. He was fighting. With a golf club from the same bag Page had claimed her weapon. He was wedged in between Nelson and Haley, but he seemed to be able to take care of himself.

  Which didn’t surprise me.

  He was a fighter. I had seen that the first day we met. And he was a survivor. Those were the only traits able to keep us alive these days. While other skills came in handy, they were useless unless you had those two.

  Back to the Zombie taking a beating from me. My bat connected with his head but bounced off. Great, another newbie.

  Adrenaline was pumping furiously through my veins by now and I was single-minded in my task. Sweat poured from my forehead and drenched my t-shirt, but I didn’t feel the pain in my arms anymore and I wasn’t in danger of collapsing in exhaustion.

  In fact, I seemed to be working like a machine. Swing, connect, pull back, swing again. I was determined to live, to make sure my friends and loved ones lived. This Feeder wasn’t going to stand in my way.

  Until I pulled back and let my arms fly with more power than I knew I had in me. My bat connected with the temple, making a direct line from the corner of his blood shot eye to the tip of his gnawed off ear.

  And then the worst thing possible happened- my bat splintered into a hundred pieces at the same time brains exploded from the side of that guy’s head.

  With the disintegration of my weapon, the suddenly extremely light weight of the handle flew out of my hands and out into the vastness of the store somewhere. I watched the body of my victim slink to the floor with kind of a macabre fascination as I tried to figure out how to piece the remaining shreds of my bat together as they stuck out of his bloody head.

  There wasn’t a way.

  I was now weaponless with at least three Feeders headed my way.

  I glanced back, hoping something sturdy would just be there, would just be leaning up against a wall waiting for me to need it. But there was nothing.

  I lifted my gaze and my eyes connected with Hendrix’s. For one eternal moment he held my gaze and I saw true panic in his eyes for the first time ever.

  And then his lips were moving with a frantic command, “Run, Reagan!”

  That was all it took to shake me out of my momentary stupor. I leapt over the recent kills at my feet and took off sprinting down an aisle with gun cleaners and oils. My heart was pounding furiously in my ears and my blood was rushing so hard I swear I could feel it move in my veins.

  I heard the Feeders behind me, ravaging because of the chase. And who knew how many were ahead of me.

  I had to find something- anything- and fast. Otherwise I was dead.

  That was the simple truth of my situation.

  Or if I wasn’t dead, then worse. What would it be like as a Zombie? Would I know what I was doing? Would I be coherent as I ate the faces of my friends or as they in turn bashed in my head?

  Oh, god.

  I kept running, almost blind with fear and adrenaline. The world seemed to tunnel in around me so that I didn’t notice anything to my right or left, just the aisle in front of me. The warehouse was huge; long, mostly cleared aisle after aisle. Along the back of the room- because I had already passed it… twice- was an Astroturf area with sporting vehicles like dirt bikes, four wheelers, and some smaller speed boats. The rest of the store was dedicated entirely to firearms and other weapons. There was a section with hunting bows that seemed useful if I knew how to use one. But since I didn’t, I couldn’t take the time to stop and grab one.

  I almost smiled at the well-stocked fortress of supplies. If we could just get out of this alive, then we might be alright.

  An aggravated scream sounded from the front of the building and I recognized it as Haley’s. Panic infused my blood and my heart beat impossibly faster in my chest. And it was all made worse because I couldn’t see what was happening or if she had gotten bit. All I could hear were the frenzied sounds of weapons hitting skulls and the ravenous moaning from Feeders as they either attacked my friends or chased me.

  I had never run so fast in my life, but I felt them on my heels. I was just out of reach but only because I had a head start. They were obnoxiously fast; and the redder their eyes, the quicker and more agile they seemed to become.

  A crunching sound from behind me dared me to glance over my shoulder.

  Hendrix.

  I should have trusted him to come after me.

  The Feeders split up then- the ones in front continuing their pursuit of me and the ones in the back turning on Hendrix. There had to be five a piece by now.

  I turned back around and ducked to the left when a group of three appeared out of nowhere. I made it down another aisle, with my tennis shoes slippin
g on the slick tile and excess energy making me feel out of control.

  Terror crawled up my throat, threatening to spill out into a scream. I was desperate to get to a weapon. Frustrated tears blurred my vision and the sounds of Haley and the other Parkers fighting in the front of the store made my blood turn to ice.

  And then I saw it- or them. My miracle. A man lay sprawled out on the floor in front of me- definitely dead. He was face down on a carpeted section with the entire back of his head missing. Obviously Zombie food.

  But he was laying underneath a single pole rack that branched out at the top to display gun holsters. In his petrified fingers was a hand gun and scattered in front of him were bullets.

  He had been trying to load his gun when he was attacked.

  I was putting a lot of faith in those bullets matching that gun but I didn’t have a choice. If this didn’t save me, nothing would.

  First, I would have to give myself enough time to load that gun and it would be almost impossible to do while I was fighting off the pack behind me.

  I lunged for the gun holster rack and swung it blindly. The top of it- the part that branched off with merchandise- flew off with the momentum of my swing and knocked into the ravening Feeders. That actually worked better for me.

  The pole was heavy though- too heavy for me to get a good swing on and the base made it awkward to carry. I managed to push a few Feeders back, but I was not going to get any killing blows in with this thing.

  My arms ached as I flung the heavy pole at my attackers, barely managing to keep my limbs out of biting range while simultaneously backing up toward the dead guy on the floor. I swung again and missed this time. I was too sluggish with this impossible pole.

  Giving up on it I threw it at the approaching horde and while it pushed them back and rolled down the front row’s body, it hardly hindered them.

  I scrambled back and then tripped over dead guy’s feet. I fell in a tangled heap on his back- which freaked me out completely. He was cold and hard as rock and I hated touching him.

  And there I was sprawled out over the back of some random victim with eight Zombies looming over me. One dove forward, jumping on top of me and I just managed to get my feet up and miraculously connect with his head. I screamed as it happened, acting on pure instinct more than anything.

  The Feeder flew backwards and sprawled out on the tile floor. Without thinking at all- acting only on survival instinct I sightlessly picked up the top branch of that display rack, grasped it firmly in my sweaty hands and then attacked the Zombie. I brought one limb of the branch directly down on the Feeders hungry face, the bone instantly gave way and the metal went all the way through his forehead.

  I instantly covered my head, waiting for the rest of the Feeders to descend on me, resigned that that was my last kill.

  But they never came.

  Hendrix was back, along with Vaughan. And they were managing to distract all of the Feeders with their weapons. I didn’t think anything else through I just dove for the gun still gripped in the dead guy’s frozen fingers.

  Sucking air in a desperate attempt not to faint, I pried the gun from the stiff fingers and frantically started loading bullets into the chamber. My fingers were trembling, my body shaking so violently I kept dropping the stupid bullets.

  Finally I managed to get five into the clip and slide it into place. From my place on the floor- partly because I didn’t trust myself to stand and partly because I wanted to stay close to the bullets still scattered around me- I pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  I breathed out a string of curse words, flicked off the safety and then let the first real shot ring in the air.

  Finally, a real weapon. Now to clean up this mess.

  Chapter Four

  I felt the force of the gun all the way to my shoulders. It was a powerful handgun that had quite a bit of kickback. But the vibrations in my bones felt good.

  I managed to get a Feeder directly in the back of the head without hitting Hendrix or Vaughan. I pulled myself up to my knees, feeling a little bit more confident now that I knew the gun would work. And then I kept shooting.

  And the Parker’s kept swinging.

  My gun ran out of bullets and I quickly loaded it again. Five in the chamber and then five in various body parts of the Zombies.

  I didn’t get them all in the head and I couldn’t really shoot at the ones close to Vaughan or Hendrix, but I kept the ones on the fringe from ever reaching them. I had to.

  Vaughan and Hendrix were identical in their brutality. Their bodies were both equally unforgiving and unrepentant as they pounded hit after hit into Zombie after Zombie. They worked as a team flawlessly. There was a steady stream of blood that seemed to be constantly flying through the air and the smell was choking in its pungency.

  I heard the sound behind me before I felt the presence of another Feeder.

  By the time I’d managed to spin around on my knees the huge beast of a Zombie already had me in his sights. He took off running at a lumbering gate from an office area about fifty feet away. The warm lighting from the sky lights above flashed over his putrefying, mangled face as he passed each one.

  I pulled shakily to my feet and then aimed directly at the center of his face. My arms were straight out in front of me, my left supporting my right and when I felt confident I wouldn’t miss, I pulled the trigger.

  His head reared up and his body jolted backward with the action, but to my horror his head snapped forward again and his cold, bloody stare met mine with a new kind of determination. He shook his body as if to wake it up, his arms flinging around like dead wait. His head was bald of hair or beard and the bullet hole in the center of his forehead dripped blood down his eyes, over his nose and into his mouth, but he only licked at the sticky substance and seemed to grow hungrier.

  Shit.

  I swallowed down the intense feeling of panic and shot him again- and then again. I got him right in one of his eye sockets, leaving a huge, gaping black hole and then again in the opposite cheek. I could almost see all the way through his head. But while he paused with each impact of my bullet in his face he continued his trajectory toward me.

  I pulled the trigger again, but nothing. I was out of bullets.

  He swayed to the right and then to the left and I could see that I was wearing him down, but I couldn’t finish the job without ammo!

  Vaughan and Hendrix were still desperately fighting for their own lives behind me. They wouldn’t be able to save me.

  I immediately dropped to the ground and swiped my hands across the floor in a blind search for another bullet. I was too panicked to see straight and my breathing was deafening in my ears. I had to find something.

  I had to come up with something!

  My numb fingers finally closed around a bullet and I realized it was the only one left- at least the only one I could see. Tears formed in my eyes before I could pull myself together and slid down my dirty, bloody face unbidden.

  My heavy breathing became forced sobs as I struggled to get sufficient air in and out of my lungs.

  Focus, I commanded myself. But I was having a really hard time managing. I could hear his excited moaning as he drew closer, I could smell his putrid stench with each one of his clumsy steps. His breathing was a wheezing squeal and when I glanced up I saw that he was missing a foot, hobbling toward me on an oozing stump of an ankle.

  My stomach lurched but I forced myself to hold it together. I had to.

  Or I would die.

  With trembling hands I somehow bumbled the bullet into the chamber and pulled back on the slide. I took a necessary moment to check the safety and then I threw my body back at the same time I fired the last shot.

  I screamed out my distress as his massive body landed on mine. I was crushed beneath the sheer weight of him. My hands were pinned to my sides, my eyes shut tight, and my body completely unmoving as he lay on top of me.

  I waited, sobbing hysterically and out of my mind
with fear, for him to start gnawing at my face. Tears streamed from my eyes, mingled with sweat and blood that I couldn’t even identify. A few moments passed and his forehead lolled onto my cheek, smearing more bodily fluids around. I screamed again from the contact.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that he was dead, that I would be dead if he wasn’t and since I wasn’t dead, then he was.

  But my brain was hardly capable of processing things rationally right now.

  I just kept screaming and crying and sobbing. I couldn’t get my hands free and I couldn’t get him off of me. It was the most traumatizing few moments of my entire life- which was saying a lot.

  Finally- after an eternity under that huge son of a bitch- someone pulled him off me. I was blind from tears and sweat and blood and I didn’t know what belonged to me and what didn’t. Which only caused me to panic harder.

  Strong, familiar arms wrapped around me as soon as the Feeder was gone and I fell into the protection of Hendrix’s arms. I just kept crying and screaming. He whispered soothing instructions in my ear, but there was no way I could understand them. I was so far beyond lucidity I was almost worried that I had lost my mind completely.

  This could easily have been my breaking point.

  “Did he get her?” I heard Vaughan ask, but it sounded so far away that I felt like his voice existed in an entirely different plane of reality.

  Hendrix didn’t answer, he just pulled me tighter to him. He was on the floor with me, cradling me in his lap but clutching me against his chest so tightly I could hardly breathe- which wasn’t exactly aiding to the whole hysteria thing.

  “Goddammit Hendrix, is she bit?” Vaughan bellowed.

  That shook me out of my madness a little. I pulled back from Hendrix. I had to know. I had to know if this was the end.

  “Am I bit?” I asked him in a quiet, detached voice. The tears had finally stopped and I waited for the verdict. Better a quick end by people I loved than the gruesome future that Feeder-life had in store for me.

  Hendrix looked at me with eyes so pained and sorrowful I for sure thought that I was already dead. He wouldn’t look at me like that if I was fine. He wouldn’t look so haunted.