The Dead Don't Bleed: Part 2, The Aftermath (6 page)

Calvin reached the gazebo on the right side of the yard first. Even though he was sure that Garrett could have easily outrun him over that distance it was obvious that he had hung back and kept pace with Miranda. Calvin was sure that only part of his reason for doing so was for any type of security reason, his friend was rather taken with the young lady and it was pretty obvious even if he wasn't yet ready to admit it yet. As the two of them reached the gazebo, Miranda was red fa
ced and out of breath, Garrett having barely even broken a sweat during his casual jog, took her gently by the arm and guided her down onto the wooden steps of the gazebo where she could rest and catch her breath before they moved further.

Turning back to scan the next leg of their run, Calvin immediately spotted trouble ahead. He reached out an arm to grab Garrett
and pull him down below the railings on the back of the gazebo while pointing to a spot in front of the house they had just arrived next to.

Garrett followed his gaze and saw the problem. Just across the street from the house they were hiding next to there were three zombies walking slow methodical circuits in a meaningless pattern they had already witnessed a few times before. They had come to think of this state as some kind of rest period for the zombies, they would stake out whatever little patch of earth they had ended their last bout of physical exertion and simply remain in place, wandering in this aimless fashion until something else of interest entered within range of their senses. It was just one more piece of evidence of how all humanity had been erased from them, their entire existence was now devoted to storing energy from their last meal in order to obtain their next. Now, they were facing three of them in this exact state
, wandering from the shoulder of the road, down a slight depression several yards into the nearby grass lawn and then back again. Garrett tracked them for almost a full minute and with only a few momentary lapses in their pattern, at least one if not two of them were able to view the road they would have to cross at any given moment. There was no way they would be able to simply dart across unobserved at this point in the road.

Looking back up towards their friend skirting the hedges now less than a football field's
distance away, Garrett saw that he had found a desirable spot and had just completed his crossing into the yard beyond the hedge and was now hustling over towards the garden shed with the zombie on the other side. If they were going to intervene in the coming encounter they were quickly running out of time. If the guy screwed up his attack on that zombie, there wasn't much doubt it would have enough time to get off a warning cry that would see at least these other three zombies running into the fray and more than likely many others as well. The zombies they had lured away during their drive through the neighborhood may already be on their way back and within earshot of the wails of their comrade. It would certainly make their planned scavenging trip much more challenging and would more than likely also get this other guy killed and served up on a buffet line for his neighbor’s pleasure. Doubling back and crossing the street three houses further down the block was an option. They would be able to cross at a slight bend in the road and down an incline that would provide them some cover as long as they kept low to the ground. Garrett knew that if they were forced to take that option there was no way they could make it across and intervene in the coming altercation in time. Even running straight across from their current location they would have to move quickly if they were to get there in time, the guy was almost to the shed already. Garrett figured that since he didn't seem to be carrying any type of obvious weapon that he planned on finding something in the gardening shed to improvise with. Give him two minutes to find something suitable, another two minutes or so to work up the nerve to actually do it, and his estimate gave them less than four minutes to get over there before the zombie dinner bell sounded.

Both Calvin and Miranda had reached the same conclusion as Garrett upon spotting the zombies not far from their route across the street. Once again, it was Miranda's sharp eyes that helped them find a ready solution to the problem. Without saying a word she pointed to a
spot between the two driveways leading to the street in front of them. The driveways followed a winding path from the garages at the side of either of the neighboring houses, meeting up at a point where they were separated by only about fifteen feet of drainage ditch between them. The ditch was slopped out from the road reaching almost four feet down from street level at its deepest point as it flowed back into the yards. Almost directly in the middle of that portion of ditch there was a wide storm drain that ran underneath the road where it more than likely met a similar ditch on the far side. That side of the road had a nice dense patch of trees just on the upward side of the storm ditch that would provide adequate cover for their movements until they reached a point in the yard where they could dart across the front of the house using the angle that the house itself had been built to conceal them from the three zombies down the road. Garrett studied the storm drain and thought that even though it would probably be a tight fit for Calvin and himself, they should be able to squeeze through with little trouble.

"What do you think?" Garrett asked as he watched Calvin also sizing up the storm drain.

"I think that the lady has a good eye for detail. I saw that drain as well but didn't give it a second thought as a means for getting across the street." Calvin replied.

Miranda said nothing, but Garrett was sure he noted the slightest upturn of her lips as she beamed with pride inside for once again proving her worth on this little trip.

"Alright then, let’s get going. Our friend is just getting inside the shed now, I don't think we have much time." Garrett said as he dropped to a crouch and circled wide around the driveway following it to a point where the lawn between the two driveways dipped down enough that running at a severe crouch would keep them just out of sight of the street. The last twenty feet of grass between the driveways was going to be the tricky part. The lawn rose back up at that point almost level with the front of the lawn on the opposite side of the driveway and all the way to the edge of the ditch on their side of the road. Dropping flat onto his belly Garrett motioned for Calvin and Miranda to follow his lead as he wormed his way across that final stretch of grass keeping his body as flush to the dirt and grass as possible.

"I like it girl, but you need to keep that little ass down on the ground." Calvin hissed from behind him. Garrett glanced back over his shoulder and caught a red faced Miranda working to pull her slightly raised backside down flatter to the ground. The way she had been moving along with it raised in the air would have looked like a small animal moving through the grass if any of the zombies across the street happened to cast a glance in that direction. Neither of them had any idea how those things would react in the presence of wild life so Garrett had to agree with Calvin's encouragement for her to keep pressed lower to the ground. Although he wished the man would sometimes consider at least the most primitive level
of tact when making such observations. He also realized that he felt a slight pang of what he could only describe as jealously at the thought of his friend staring intently at that tight little well-formed butt wiggling along only a foot or two from his face. He shook the thought from his head and chided himself for even allowing such a brief indulgence, it was certainly not the time for letting his own mind wander with such juvenile thoughts.

S
liding into the mouth of the drain, Garrett had to pull his shoulders in as tight to his stomach as possible and even then he just barely fit. Luckily the interior was made up of corrugated metal so that he could use the divots in the floor to tuck his toes into and propel his body forward several inches at a time. He thought that if it had been solid concrete construction there would have been no way for him to get any leverage to use his legs to force himself ahead and he would have been stuck within the first four or five feet. Once he got a good rhythm going he was able to make short work of the tunnel and in a few moments his head popped out of the far side and he dropped down into a puddle of stagnant rain water about three inches deep. Miranda was coming along right behind him and had not had the same limitations inside the metal tube as he had. Like a limber monkey she shot out of the drain and managed to climb off to the side and avoid the muddy puddle that Garrett had landed face down in. As Garrett was pulling his soaking and mud covered body clear of the ditch, Calvin followed shortly behind Miranda and landed with a splash in almost the exact same muddy spot that Garrett had just left behind.

With both of them soaked and filthy Garrett told himself that their supply list was going to have to be expanded to include clean and dry clothes. Even with the warm weather they were having, the nights were cool and without dry clothes to change into
, both of them were risking falling ill. The way things had suddenly turned in the world even simple things like the common cold could result in all of them being put at risk.

They could no longer see the shed from their position in the front of the house but Garrett could sense that t
hey were just about out of time. By now the guy who had crept into the backyard would have probably already chosen a gardening tool for a weapon and was probably getting ready to move into position to strike.

Garrett studied the layout of the yard and decided on a course of action that would get them up close to that lone zombie beside the shed while keeping out of sight. The decorative fence covered with vines and flowers jutted out into the back yard a distance past where the creature was stuck. By making a wide loop into a patch of trees they could follow that cover until it came up even with the fence and then simply run straight to the side of it allowing the dense
buildup of flowers and leaves to mask their approach. He motioned with hand signals for the others to follow him and took off at a trot into the row of trees while glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Miranda was keeping up ok. He could tell that she was not at all used to this level of physical exertion. Sprinting, crawling, ducking and slithering through metal tubes was just like running a grueling obstacle course and more demanding than running a straight even marathon. She was starting to show signs of fatigue and Garrett knew that they needed to stop soon and allow her to rest and recuperate before she dropped out on them. She caught his glance at her and even through the strain on her face still managed a reassuring smile to tell him that she was fine and could keep up.

Reaching a point within the trees where they were parallel to a
spot along the fence that Garrett was reasonably sure was just about even with the zombie on the other side, Garrett stopped and dropped to a knee. Without speaking he motioned for Calvin and Miranda to remain there while he drew the long combat knife he kept strapped to his leg in a leather sheath. They hadn't discussed who would be the one to actually finish the job, but Garrett somehow felt that it was his responsibility to take care of it. He approached the fence as quietly as possible, keeping a close eye on where he placed his feet to ensure he didn't step on something that would make noise and announce his presence. He could hear the zombie as it thrashed about struggling to free itself just a few feet away from him. The moans and groans coming from the creature were almost in a distinctive rhythmic pattern. When it reached the limit of forward motion that the snare along its feet would allow it would bellow a loud grumbling almost hissing sound that Garrett thought resembled some form of aggravation at its inability to move forward. Then it would relax and step backwards two or three feet to gain momentum to try again, just as it started to move forward the zombie almost growled as though it was motivating itself to try harder on its next attempt to break free. He wasn't too worried about these noises, if they hadn't attracted attention to its predicament by now he figured that any other zombie hearing those sounds would not consider them to be something they needed to investigate further. He could see the outline of the zombie through the fist-sized square holes in the fence and breaks in the foliage covering it. The pattern of forward and backward movement was easy to follow and allowed Garrett to predict where and when the zombie would be at any given moment. He picked a spot along the fence that would put him in a position directly in line with where the zombie ended up at the extreme end of its range of forward motion. Garrett thought that this point was were the thing was the most focused on trying to free itself and least likely to be aware of subtle changes in its surroundings. He was just studying the fence and dense growth of flowers for the best spot to make his move when his peripheral vision caught a subtle shadow passing further down the fence moving into position just behind the zombie.

It was almost midnight before Dr. Woods and his people were escorted by a squad of heavily armed infantryman and backed up at a distance by five armored Humvees with mounted machine gunners from the quarantine hangar to their new quarters in the partially completed science center. The complex consisted of four wooden buildings, the two largest of were designed to house their scientific work and equipment. Another large Quonset hut type building was stacked with bunk beds, an open shower bay and crudely constructed toilet facilities. There were only enough beds for a little over half of them so it was clear from the onset that they would be taking shifts with sleeping arrangements, a portion of their people down for rest periods while a crew was on duty around the clock working towards a miracle cure. The forth smaller building contained four small offices and housed all of their communications and computer equipment. While it was not the most modern facility that Dr. Woods and his people had ever worked in, it would suffice to get them back to work. The first order of business was to get all of the equipment they had managed to salvage set up, inspected and into operation. Workers had deposited a good deal of their equipment in haphazard locations throughout the buildings while leaving the rest inside two large metal cargo containers that had been deposited just outside the Quonset huts. Even though everyone was tired and annoyed with the way they had been treated since their arrival, Dr. Woods wanted to waste no time in getting the facility up and running. Working with the handful of his own staff that had joined him from DC, he outlined work and rest schedules, teaming up equal numbers of scientific and support staff to form three crews. The first order of business was to get the lab functioning and he informed everyone that until that was completed none of them would be getting any rest.

The one bright note that he was able to give his people was that at least they would have a hot meal that evening. The arrangements they had made with the command on the base was for the dining facility to serve up four hot meals a day
for their people. Shortly after moving into their new complex they were greeted with a midnight meal consisting of grilled hamburgers, hot dogs, French fries and corn on the cob. It was about as American a meal as one could possible get considering where they were at that moment and stirred a level of patriotic discussions that helped fuel their eagerness to find the cure. The arrangements for meal delivery was that a dedicated Humvee would pull two luggage carts stacked with all their food and serving trays to a point just inside the barbed wire perimeter they were forbidden to pass. The kitchen staff would disconnect the luggage carts and depart the area before anyone from inside the small compound was permitted to approach and retrieve the food. A relay of luggage carts dedicated to their use only would then commence with the next meal delivery retrieving the carts from the prior meal and delivering them to a prepared location several hundred yards away where a crew would be standing by to fully decontaminate the carts and delivery vehicle. Dr. Woods had to admire their thoroughness in the process, even though it made him and all of his personnel feel like unwanted lepers. It was a step that was necessary to ensure the very survival of their species and he was sure that after a period of adjustment all of them would understand that and just take it for what it was.

While his people went about diving into their first hot meal since arriving
, Dr. Woods scooped up a hamburger and a plate of fries and trotted off to the communications section. He had some discreet calls to make in order to lay the groundwork for the next stage of their operations. Since he was sure that the request he needed to make would be refused by MG Brookover, he knew of one person who was still in a position to supersede his command and he also knew that this person would more than likely listen to reason much better than the General.

#

The second hand on his watch reached the point
of his self-imposed deadline for making his move. With a final deep breath to steady his nerves, Doug hefted the hoe above his head and stepped around the corner keeping low and close to the wall. The zombie was just starting to take the first few steps forward in his next attempt to break free of the ropes and hoses binding his legs. Doug would have to continue moving forward to a point just past midway along the side of the shed where he would be poised to strike once the zombie returned to a resting position. He positioned himself where he thought he would be in just the right position to catch the zombie as it retreated back several steps before moving forward again. Keeping his eyes focused intently at the point on the back of the zombie's head where he envisioned the rounded end of the hoe breaking through bone and slicing deep into its diseased brain, he started to raise the hoe over the back of his own head without thinking to look up first and ensure that he had enough overhead clearance.

The unexpected
resistance the hoe met as he swung it high over his head instinctively caused him to apply more force as the zombie began moving backwards towards him and he started to step into the swing. His attention had not left the back of the zombie’s skull where he anticipated his blow to land in the next few seconds. He failed to notice the support ropes that had been attached from the top of the fence to small eyelets embedded into the side of the shed. The weight of the vines creeping up the side of the wooden fence had caused it to start sagging away from the shed. Cameron's mother had used heavy weight fishing line to keep the fence in place until the vines completed growing onto the opposite side and allowed it to stabilize on their own. The fishing line was sturdy enough to maintain the weight and had been cleverly distributed every three feet down the length of the fence where it ran along the side of the shed. She had preferred the clear line so that it would be almost impossible to see if you didn't know it was there and had picked a point just under the outside gutters of the shed to sink in the tiny metal anchors so that they would be out of sight. The rising hoe snagged one of the lines just at the base of its handle, the extra force he applied upon feeling resistance resulted in the line pulling a section of the fence several inches closer to the shed while also loudly shaking the branches of the flowers and vines. To make matters even worse, as he stepped forward to start his downward swing, the fishing line stretched taut just under the head of the hoe and slipped up underneath a small crack in the wooden handle. Realizing he had snagged against something and seeing the zombie start to turn backwards in response to the noise, Doug pulled down hard on the wooden handle only to feel his grip slipping as the fishing line refused to give anymore and pulled the top of the hoe up and almost free of his hands altogether. Doug realized in that instant that he had screwed up, the zombies head had turned enough that their eyes suddenly locked and Doug watched in slow motion as its mouth started to open to announce his presence to the rest of the world.

The sudden blur of motion next to the creatures head completely caught Doug off guard and he whipped his head to the right expecting to find a crowd of additional flesh eaters suddenly pouring through a break in the fence and rushing towards him. Instead of impending doom a surprising sight met his eyes. Just as the first guttural cry started to escape Cameron's dead father's mouth, an arm with a balled fist burst through one of the squares in the wooden fence and landed an explosive punch directly into the side of the zombie's mouth stifling the coming cry and sending the creature crashing hard against the side of the shed. The punching arm was followed an instant later by an explosion of breaking wood and shredded flowers as a figure burst through the brittle side of the fence and fell on top of the staggering body of the zombie sending them both into a tangled heap on the ground. Doug saw the damaged fence start to
sag in the middle from the man sized hole that had suddenly appeared in it and then watched as it toppled over towards the zombie and this surprise guest. Just before that portion of the fence rained down on top of the two figures, Doug spotted a glint of light as the sun reflected off a metal object and he spied a flash of movement between the two struggling forms. Before he could decipher what was happening, the rest of the fence completed its fall and covered both figures under a twisted pile of broken wood, blooming flowers and long tendrils of snake like vines.

Doug glanced over his head
where the edge of the hoe was still caught on the length of fishing line and realized what had happened. He saw where the line was caught under the head of the tool and pulled in the opposite direction to free his makeshift weapon. Keeping his eye on the next length of line, he raised the hoe high into the air again ensuring that he was clear of any further obstructions and started moving forward intent on following through with his attack. He could see the legs of Cameron's father still jutting out towards the ruined section of fence and noticed that the impact of the collision had knocked the restraining lengths of hose and rope free of his legs. Once the zombie regained his feet he would no longer have anything restricting him from pressing an attack against Doug. With the element of surprise gone and a second zombie thrown into the mix, his only chance was to follow through while they were both down and hope to score quick kill shots with the hoe. If he turned and ran, not only would they both have a chance to sound the alarm to others but he also was certain they would be able to free themselves in relatively short order and there would be nothing to keep them from running him down before he could reach any place of safety. He spotted a tuft of hair poking out from underneath the broken fence and registered movement as the pile of debris shifted as it appeared someone was starting to rise. He centered his focus on that tuft of hair and concentrated on connecting the edge of the hoe with that spot.

"DON'T!" The excited shout came from just beyond the ruined portion of the fence. Doug turned his head towards the unexpected sound and stumbled under the momentum of the already falling hoe when he found himself staring down the business end of a very serious looking rifle pointed right at his head.

Doug let the hoe fall just off to the side of the broken section of fence and then quickly hefted it back over his shoulder into a defensive posture as he turned his body to face the newcomer while he also jumped backward several feet in stunned surprise.

"
That’s a friendly under there." The man continued as he pointed towards the pile of broken fence, the rifle continuing to track Doug's movements, "and he just saved your ass."

Doug studied the man, clearly he was not a zombie, first of all he was not already on top of him and tearing away chunks of his flesh. Not only was he not trying to eat him alive, he was also speaking, something that a zombie did not appear capable of beyond uttering the most basic animal like noises. He looked back down towards the pile of broken fence covering the two bodies where the stranger was pointing and saw the top layer of smashed wood start to slide off to one side as a figure began to rise from underneath. Doug took another hesitant step backwards not ready to trust the word of this stranger. He figured that if it turned o
ut to be some kind of ruse he would swing the hoe for all he was worth and take the chance of being shot down. Dying in a hail of gunfire would be much preferable to the alternative of being ripped to shreds and eaten alive.

"Who the hell are you?" Doug stammered, his eyes not leaving the figure starting to emerge from underneath broken fence in front of him.

"I guess we could ask you the same damn question." The reply was from a man but not the one holding rifle. The voice had come from underneath the broken fence and sounded strained mixed with a little bit of anger.

"GARRETT!"
cried a female voice as Doug heard accompanying foot falls just out of sight behind the flower covered fence. Suddenly a dirt and grime covered young woman appeared in the opening. Taking only the most cursory of looks at Doug, she clambered through the broken fence and immediately knelt down and began clearing away chunks of broken wood and large clumps of vines and flowers covering the two figures on the ground in front of him. She quickly cleared away enough for Doug to make out two people on the ground against the side of the fence, one was partially on top of the other with his back turned towards him. The second one, on the bottom of the pile, Doug recognized to be Cameron's father. The last time he had seen the man had been without the long handle of a knife buried to its hilt through the side of his head. The young woman grabbed the man on top of Cameron's father under his arm and helped him to stand partially up and lean against the side of the shed while he took a minute to recover from the collision and brief struggle with the fence and zombie. Doug saw that the man's hand was still wrapped tightly around the handle of the knife buried in the creatures head. As he watched, the newcomer twisted and pulled on the handle of the knife and with a sickening moist sucking sound pulled the gore covered blade free of the ruined head. The woman briefly wrapped her arms around the man and then stepped back and suddenly lashed out with a slap across the back of his shoulders.

"You stupid asshole! What exactly
where you trying to prove with a stunt like that?" She exclaimed as her face turned from a mask of genuine concern to one of disappointment and frustration. Two more slaps against the man’s shoulders were followed once again by a quick hug and a quick examination for any visible wounds or injuries.

"Thanks, but believe me I'm fine." The man replied as he gently pushed her back a step so he could climb the rest of way free of the tangled mess of broken fence and the dead zombie at his feet. "I didn't have any other choice, our friend here made his move before I was ready," he continued while nodding towards Doug. "Another quarter second and the dinner bell would have started ringing."