After The End (14 page)

“You are not going to hurt my husband. He cut
off the arm immediately; there wasn’t time for the blood to pump
the infection through. Chase is okay and I’m not letting any of you
kill him.”

The amputee whimpered as he cradled the
charred stub of his forearm to his chest. He rocked gently as he
sat by the inflamed trench. The smell of his burnt flesh reminded
me of overcooked pork chops; the sight of the jagged ash-covered
sear at the end of his arm transformed my stomach into a trapeze
artist.

I could see the others taking small steps
forward in my peripheral vision as I choked down the rising bile. I
had to intervene or this would get vicious.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.” Everyone paused
and her eyes studied me for signs of trickery. “If he isn’t
infected, of course Chase will be fine. All we have to do is get
the vamps to check him first.”

I was suddenly surrounded by blank stares.
The twang of arrows and pfft of stones flying over the chorus of
moans receded into the backdrop. I could hear every tiny sniffle
from the distraught amputee and the sharply held breath from
Randolph; my heartbeat grew steady and calm, no longer attempting
to erupt from my chest.

“What are you saying, Squirrel?” Sunny
lowered the tip of her weapon a fraction of an inch, just enough
for her muscles to relax.

“Simple test for all our sakes. If he’s
clear, we patch up that arm and do our best to prevent regular
infections from killing him. If not…Chase will die either way; our
way is less painful, quicker, and allows the man some dignity. We
get Cal or Daemon to take a few little sips and see if they taste
Z-bug. Those two can taste death in the blood, remember?”

I held out one hand with the palm up and used
the other to wave Bubba and Randolph away.

“Will you lower the spear and the two of us
can get him over to the coffin cabin?”

It seemed eternity that my arm hung there,
trapped in apprehension, waiting for a reply. Chase drew himself up
gingerly, ambled to us, and set his remaining hand on his wife’s
shoulder.

“We have to try it. Squirrel’s right, Cal and
Daemon will be able to tell if I’m…they’ll know if my blood is
tainted. I don’t want to die that way. I can’t risk hurting you or
the others and I don’t want to end up like Kyle. If I’m going to
die, I want it swift and painless.”

With that, Chase walked past her and headed
towards the second cabin. Randolph let out his breath before
sprinting to help elsewhere – I don’t think he wanted to witness
the results if Chase wasn’t cleared. The stranger and his dog
followed the three of us to the vampires’ quarters. I stopped the
new guy at the door to the building.

“Why are you following us? Go help with the
arrows or get water or something; this isn’t your business.”

“I’m a nurse, if that man isn’t infected, I
can take care of his wounds before checking on Jordy’s ankle.
Besides, Sindbad here can smell infection overtaking the body. This
is where we’re most useful.” He answered confidently as he made a
gesture and the canine sat at attention.

“Fine, it’ll be nice to have a medic on hand
and a trained pup could be handy. However, if Chase isn’t given the
A-Okay, you leave. Take care of that kid and leave this to us if it
goes that way; Chase is a close friend and we’ll handle it
ourselves.”

I entered the sparse room without waiting for
a reply. Both vampires’ eyes shone bright red at the amount of
blood covering our patient. I assume the scent of it set them off.
Daemon stood with his back against the far wall; I could see the
risen hunger was pushing him to the edge of his restraint.

Cal leaned over Chase and nipped his neck.
The Roman held the sanguine fluid in his mouth a moment as though
critiquing a fine wine, while his protégé shifted uncomfortably
with his back against the wall. Daemon’s sharp fangs were pressing
into his bottom lip. Sunny’s chest heaved as she awaited her
spouse’s fate. I could hear her panicked wheezing from across the
room. The nurse behind me strode over with his dog, watched the
animal’s motions, and smiled.

“Not infected.” Cal declared with a smile as
he calmly eyed they state of the young vampire across the room.
Daemon had tears rolling down his cheeks as he kept his back
pressed to the wall, wringing his hands, and his gaze fixed on the
floor. The couple hugged tightly and wept. The nurse agreed while
drawing himself erect and giving out directions.

“I think it’s time I took care of Mister
Chase. I’ll need some medical supplies or at a minimum: clean rags,
painkillers, and sewing items. I may need to redo that
cauterization and the pain of stitching and cleaning of that wound
will be excruciating.”

He gazed at Daemon before continuing. “First,
we should move the patient to another building; it would be unwise
to add more blood to this environment given that those two are
already struggling to keep their fangs to themselves.”

Our new medic took hold of the injured limb
and began a precursory examination of the extent of damage while
aiding Chase to his feet. All gazes converged on me as the stranger
repeated his directions.

“The guy’s a nurse, do what he says. Get
Chase and that boy into the main cabin and help him patch them up.”
I turned to the hungry Undead before continuing. “As soon as night
falls, we need you two outside. Daemon, I’m your donor tonight, so
just find me; Cal, yours was scheduled to be Chase so tell Sunny to
do it instead. Any problems?”

Even the dog’s head shook. I gave a firm nod
and hurried out to defend the perimeter; it pained me to see Daemon
so distressed. The only sounds were the intermittent muffled
screams from Chase, the noise of projectiles cutting the air, and
that horrible moaning from the zombies assembling around our steel
walls.

The children stayed in the secondary cabin
with Ellen’s Mom; soon the boy with the sprained ankle and his
mother joined them, a torn shirt wrapped the limb. Randolph kept
everyone fed, filled the canteens, and loaded stones and arrows
into the pulley-buckets for the rest of the day. Every hour or two,
he would jog over to the cabin to check on Michael and Bobbi.

The Dead kept coming. They didn’t climb, but
they could easily walk over the mottled remains and reach up the
side of the wall. It was like being in the middle of an ant mound.
Most of the fleshies were long since infected and easily destroyed,
but the few who weren’t threw themselves at the gate with the force
of a meth addict looking for a fix.

I placed a ladder against the wall near the
entry point and climbed to the top of the barrier, dragging my
defense with me. It was a sack made of gator skin that I’d filled
with around ten pounds of smooth river stones. It was lashed closed
with a six-foot strand of rope that had several knots and loops at
one end.

I put a loop over my wrist, gripped just
under a knot, and lowered the sack over the side of the partition.
Swinging it back and forth as a pendulum, I crushed in the skulls
of those zombies who reached the wall.

The moist cracking sound of their heads
caving in kept my adrenaline flowing. Every half hour or so, I
would heave the gore encrusted bag up and move to a different wall,
taking short rests in between. The sight of the bag swinging
usually drew the creatures right up to the weapon.

All day we slayed the corpses in near
silence, waiting for dusk to bring our reinforcements. Everyone
knew that we couldn’t depend on the living to save us; the vampires
were our only hope to escape today’s atrocities and see tomorrow’s
fresh horrors.

The last rays of light dimmed out of
existence as the last of our arrows struck the neck of its target;
it shambled closer, unaware of the protruding missile. My forearms
burned like acid and shook as I withdrew the sack and dropped it to
the dirt along the bottom rung and climbed down. My back popped
with every stretch and twist. Several of our shooters came off the
tower and went for the weapons shack. I placed myself in front of
the door.

“Don’t touch those guns! We have almost all
of them eradicated, if one shot’s fired, this mess will start
over.”

At that moment, twin streaks lit out of the
coffin cabin and over the shimmering steel partition. Hacking and
slashing, the vamps annihilated the lingering Dead as they circled
the wall.

Cal jabbed his short wasp-bladed sword into
half-devoured faces as Daemon swung an ax like Paul Bunyan, felling
fleshies as the blade separated the top of the cranium from the jaw
with each swipe. The pair moved like lightning, shredding the
attackers furiously and edging their way further and further from
our encampment.

After nearly an hour, they returned and
tossed their weapons aside. Their clothes were matted with shards
of bone, coagulated blood, and the occasional patch of scalp. Both
looked ravenous, having still not fed. The dog gave a low growl as
Daemon stepped towards me. The fledgling regarded the canine with a
stare; the dog whimpered and sat by his master while the young
Undead spoke.

“We need to clean and feed. Squirrel, I’ll
meet you in my cabin in a minute. Cal will be there, too. Bring his
donor with you, please.”

He flew off in the direction of the stream as
the last word left his pursed lips. His mentor glanced at me with
his blazing eyes. His voice echoed in my mind. “I will make sure he
keeps control and you are unharmed. Please get Sunny.” Cal followed
Daemon to wash away the battle.

Sunny and I stood in the small cabin for ten
minutes. The room was quiet as a tomb and as uncomfortable as
borrowed dress shoes. I stared at the door, unwilling to look at
her after our earlier standoff. The door launched open. Caelinus
strolled inside.

“Sunny, if you wouldn’t mind, I would prefer
to wait until Daemon has fed. It would be best if I ensured the
Hunger did not cause any further issues this evening.”

She said nothing, but nodded and sat
awkwardly on the end of the nearest bed. I noticed she was looking
in every nook and cranny that was not a view of the feeding. Cal
joined her as Daemon stepped towards me; he was clean, but the
flames in his eyes still raged; the desire for blood wreaked havoc
within his every cell.

The feeling of embarrassment at having my
donation observed promptly shifted to fear. His face showed no sign
that my friend was even aware this feeding was being monitored. I
wasn’t even sure he still knew it was me standing in front of
him.

Daemon’s fangs scraped his bottom lip as he
reached out to push my hair aside. I felt an iron hand gripping my
waist as he pulled me closer. I closed my eyes, and leaned my head
to the left for him.

The familiar gentle pricks were replaced with
a fierce bite; I startled at the savagery as much as the pain. He
took two or three deep pulls from my vein before I felt my knees
waver. Warm hands caught me as I felt Daemon’s grip disappear.

I forced open my eyes. My head struggled to
steady itself from the buzz I was feeling. Sunny held me upright
and kept giving my cheek light slaps. She was asking me something;
it sounded like she was speaking underwater.

I giggled at the concern on her face. Earlier
that day she shoved a spear in my face, ready to kill me without a
thought, and here she sat genuinely worried for my health.

Looking over, I saw the vampires scuffling.
Cal smacked the young vampire in the face. A bicuspid somersaulted
through the dim room and landed against a small tower of dog-eared
books. The Roman walked over and rubbed his palm a moment before
picking up the tooth with the tips of his forefinger and thumb.

Daemon was on his knees holding his mouth;
his eyes were back to their usual brilliance. Examining the prize,
Cal turned around and presented it to his protégé.

“Put this back in the hole in your gums. It
will be agony for a minute until it heals, but only a minute.”

With a whimper, Daemon did as instructed. Cal
sighed and held out his hand to Sunny.

“Are you ready to donate? I assure you,
they’re both fine now and I only need my regular quantity of
blood.”

Sunny looked around the room at the three of
us before helping me back to the bed and offering her vein to the
elder vampire; her eyes flitted about as he took a few tiny sips.
She gripped the dagger on her belt with an unsteady hand. I gazed
at Daemon across the cabin; he sat hunched with his back against
the opposite wall. His cheek had returned to its normal pallor, but
the thin streaks carved by his tears remained visible.

The fledgling rose to his feet as soon as his
mentor was done. Daemon’s eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke
in a muted tone.

“I’m going to start clearing up the mess
outside. I’ll leave the useful stuff in a pile by the gate and drop
the corpses in the burn zone for you humans to torch during the
day. It’ll probably take all night. Both of you should get some
rest. Especially Squirrel. I’m…I’m sorry I lost control again. It
won’t happen anymore.”

He hurried out of the cabin to his task with
the door slamming shut on the final word. Cal merely looked deep in
thought and said goodnight before following. Sunny and I sat in the
coffin cabin, immersed in silence, until my legs cramped up and
brought the exhaustion I’d been ignoring crashing down on me. I
stretched my legs, stood, and ambled to the exit.

“How is Chase doing?” I asked.

Sunny flinched.

“He’s okay. That nurse guy patched him up
before wrapping that boy Jordy’s ankle. Kid only sprained it, so
that’s good. Chase is enjoying a little rest thanks to a couple of
painkillers someone scrounged up on the last raid.”

“Good to hear. By the way, it’s okay what
happened. I get it; he’s your husband. There aren’t any hard
feelings about earlier.”