Quarantined in Chaos (Nova Nocte) (16 page)

             
The last two weeks have been difficult; every urban area we pass is overrun and most of the rural areas have pockets of hostile survivors. At sunset today, I had to help bury Claude. His ribs showed and he shivered no matter how many layers he wore. It was the cough that did him in; he began hacking up blood with his phlegm before he passed in his sleep this afternoon.

             
Probably the last peaceful death I’ll ever see.

             
Margot stood over the shallow grave we dug from the frozen earth. Her eyes were sunken and her lips cracked. Bubba offered her a flask he’d recovered a few days prior. She ignored him and knelt beside his spindly form.

             
“Just drain me. Please, let this all be over.”

             
She spoke to no one in particular, but all faces drifted to me nonetheless. I glanced at my fellows; I hadn’t drained anyone completely in over a week, but the other three had filled up four days ago when we crossed a family armed like a Mexican cartel.

             
“Fine. Call it mercy. You’ve only got a day or two left before this hunger strike of yours puts you down.”

             
The crew retreated to the bikes and left the camp shovel. My canines slid into her carotid artery with ease. Her blood was warm as it gushed over my tongue and sent shivers of sensation through every cell in my body. I closed my eyelids and let the sanguine fluid quench my thirst and appease my frenzied mind.

             
The light went out too quickly. I sucked harder to get the last dregs of nourishment from the weather-ravaged body. A strong hand carried me back to the winter’s night. I relinquished my grip and looked to my right.

             
“Daemon, what are you doing here?”

             
“Came to help you clean up.”

             
“You mean you came to make sure I didn’t get overwhelmed by the immense festival of energy particles and recede into my mind?”

             
He picked up the shovel and tossed aside a scoop of soil.

             
“Exactly.”

             
We worked to give the woman a hasty burial and rejoined our comrades for the night’s journey.

             
###

             
“Chase, can you give me a hand moving this gear into my trailer?”

             
A bag of cookware crashed to the ground beside Sunny. Her husband waved her off and lifted them along with the blankets she still held. He planted a kiss on the lady’s forehead.

             
“No, but I can put them into my trailer. You’ve got enough to tow; just take care of yourself and our baby.”

             
He finished the task and started to redistribute the rest of the supplies as evenly as possible. Sunny snuck a few items back into her trailer while he was busy. I laughed and ignored the distant sounds of gunfire.

             
Sporadic and small caliber; miles away and not an issue. Enjoy the moment.

             
We mount our bicycles and begin the night’s travels. Daemon and I aren’t the only ones who giggle as Cal learns to ride a bicycle; the trailer helps keep him from tilting over. We’re heading towards the shooting, but Reggie is flying ahead. When we are within a couple of miles of the gunshots, they cease and the only sound is the creaking of the ice as we ride over the frozen ground.

             
Reggie is standing on the road two miles ahead. He bears an M16 and a strand of grenades is flung over his shoulder. To his left is a figure wobbling in the shadows. The scent of blood is not present. Reggie spies Cal ‘parking’ the bike against a stack of wood.

             
“Caelinus, why did you run your bike into this man’s pile of kindling?”

             
“Reggie, don’t start. These seats are not exactly comfortable.”

             
“I just don’t think plowing into a stranger’s firewood is a good way to stop a Schwinn. Haven’t you thought of using your brakes?”

             
“Go to Hell.”

             
The Roman dismounted and adjusted himself in as dignified a way as he could. Daemon bit into his lip and grinned. Sunny and Chase smirked while Bubba just shook his head and followed his boyfriend to meet the new arrival.

             
“Who’s this feller?”

             
“Some jerk who was shooting an automatic weapon at beer bottles. He says he’s out here alone. No name yet.”

             
I sized up the man huddled on the ground. He swayed while sitting and wore cargo pants with a long-sleeved shirt. The aroma of whiskey surrounded him.

             
“What’s your name?”

             
Bleary eyes met mine.

             
“Why, you gonna put it on my gravestone? Or do I even get a grave?”

             
“No one is planning on killing you. And if we did, yeah, I’ll write it on a grave marker for you. So, what’s your name?”

             
He squinted at me and harrumphed.

             
“Most people call me Allen, but you can call me whatever you want pretty lady.”

             
His eyebrows lifted twice and he smiled widely. Daemon was suddenly beside me.

             
“She’ll call you Allen. I’m Daemon.”

             
Allen fell shook his hand and fell over.

             
“Protective little bloodsucker ain’t he?”

             
I helped the man to his feet.

             
“Yes, Allen, he is very protective of me. So why were you shooting at bottles?”

             
He gave me an incredulous look.

             
“How else am I supposed to get zombies to find me?”

             
Our group studied him and shared glances in turn.

             
What special kind of crazy is this?

             
“Okay, I’ll bite; why do you want to draw the Dead to you?”

             
The humor left Allen and calm settled over him.

             
“When you’ve spent months living alone -- if you can call this living -- just joining the winning team sound like a good idea. Who knows, maybe being a zombie is fun.”

             
Nurse stepped forward.

             
“Were you bitten?”

             
“No, I just want one or two to show up and get the infection, not a dozen and get destroyed. Kept having to mow them down or hide.”

             
Nurse walked over and put his hand on Allen’s forehead. The inebriated man didn’t resist. He didn’t seem to care enough to resist anything.

             
“No fever and no signs of prolonged dehydration. Well, he’s got no physical reason to go this route. He’s just suicidal. I think I’ll get his fire built up; I don’t want to know how this turns out.”

             
He left our circle and fanned the embers, setting up a small meal of canned whatnot and pasta noodles.

             
“Allen,” I tried to think before speaking. “...if you were a part of a group and had a goal in mind, would you be okay with
not
attracting fleshies?”

             
“Of course.” He tilted his head at me like I’d asked him if fire was hot. “Suicide by dead guy tends to be a last resort kind of thing. You’re not the brains of this outfit are you?”

             
I blushed and scratched my chin.

             
“Not really. Sunny’s in charge.” I pointed to our leader who was busily shaking her head not to make an offer. “If you pass a quick interview and agree to our terms, I think she’ll let you join us.”

             
She threw the Mom Glare at me before donning her pleasant but stern leader face.

             
“If you’re interested in being alive and not alone, just sit over here; Cal has some questions to ask you...”

###

              Allen turned out to be a former science teacher who had already been estranged from his family, divorced with no children, and he was fired a month before the outbreak due to budget cuts. He was also proving to be adept at problem-solving.

             
“When my cheap katana broke, I managed to get into a camp that had a ton of firepower on the grounds that I knew some decent first aid and how to purify water. Then most of the group got rounded up and caged by a couple of vampires to be used as cattle.” Allen shoved another mouthful of noodles into his mouth.

“I managed to hide in a sewer until dawn and get a couple of them freed. But after that, we just sort of hit too many obstacles: zombies, vampires, some crazy jerks who kidnapped the two women with us, a couple of creepy kids roasting a guy on a fire. Finally, it was just me and Rory.”

              “What happened to Rory?” Chase asked.

             
“Rory found a bag of drugs and smoked it all. There was crack, weed, and meth. And then there was Rory twitching and foaming at the mouth. I turned him on his side, he puked, and he died. I took the last of our supplies and never looked back.”

             
Our newcomer stopped eating and stared into the ether.

             
“I’m sorry you have been lost and alone.” Cal spoke low and kept his gaze on the fire. “You are no longer on your own. And soon, you will be restored to the living world to start anew.”

             
“Thanks. Means a lot.”

             
He smiled and patted the elder Undead on the back twice. The night was silent except for the creaking of tree limbs as the snow gathered on the thin boughs. I added Allen’s name to my schedule and reviewed my calendar.

             
Donations will be simpler but the guard shifts will still be tough; it’s hard to trust a guy who was trying to commit death by zombie.

             
Cal rose and packed his belongings. We all followed suit. Allen loaded his arsenal and munchies into the various trailers and took over the Roman’s bike. Cal appeared relieved to be handing the contraption to someone else in exchange for flight.

             
“We’ve got a lot of ground to cover; anyone needing a potty break, get it now. No more stops until morning nears.”

             
I waited for any response and set off into the sky. Daemon glided beside me effortlessly. I wobbled from time to time as I changed direction or was caught in a strong gust, but my flying was improving. Reggie and Cal flew behind the pack of riders and allowed us to lead.

             
Once in a while, I’d dive low and hack off a zombie’s head or punt the skull into the next time zone. The night went smoothly. And then morning came.

             
We skirted the town of Bowman to avoid the sea of Dead roaming its streets. I noted the slowed movements of the fleshies.

             
The cold must be thickening the fluids in them. They only move as fast as dial-up internet in this weather. Thank goodness we’re catching a break.

             
As we took cover on an abandoned farm for the day, the familiar pop pop pop of a 22 caliber went off. Everyone stopped moving and listened, half-unloaded gear still in hand. A chorus of bangs and booms thundered in its wake; larger rounds and shotguns. My skin tingled with the instinctual alarm that the sunrise was soon. The gunshots were only a mile or two away and closing.

             
“What do we do?” Garret asked Sunny.

             
“I don’t know. We can run or defend. But they,” She gestured to us Undead. “...they can’t be outside for much longer.”

             
Reggie piled his bags of gold and other items into the nearest trailer.

             
“We go. We move as far away as possible and hide in the brush until dusk.”

             
A flurry of movement followed his decision. Cal loaded all the heavier bags onto his back and into his arms. Daemon and I copied him, Reggie begrudgingly did the same. I relayed the plan to Sunny and Chase.

             
“We’ll carry as much of the heavy stuff as possible. They are coming from the south out of the town; we’ll head north and east across the fields and into that little forest. No fires to draw their attention and set up a strong watch with weapons at the ready. We’ll dig in and come out as soon as the sun sets.”

             
They pedaled as fast as they could over the terrain while we ran.

             
If we fly, they could see us. We have to run and find a place fast. What about the trail in the frost? How will we cover that?

             
We located a little clearing and plopped our cargo on the hard soil. Our team of vampires sprinted back for the rest of our crew, ignoring the desperation in our veins to seek out cover from the lightening sky. Those radiant lavenders and oranges had never been so terrifying.

             
Daemon beat us there and scooped up Sunny, placed her in the trailer, and pedaled until his feet were a blur. At one point the uneven ground made them begin to fall and he recovered it by flying them a few feet up and bringing the ride back down level. Reggie, Caelinus, and I did the same with others. Leaving Chase, Bubba, and Nurse with Sunny to set up a camp we returned for Garret, Allen, and Vincent.

             
My skin began to burn and itch like a rash gone wrong. The first curve of the sun was cresting the horizon in the field. I noticed the pink hue all of our skins were taking. Our final companions were grabbed and flown low to the ground into the cover of the wood. Cal was behind us leaving a dozen different trails away from our escape in the frosted earth.

             
Reaching our destination, the four of us hurriedly jumped into the shallow graves our friends had dug for us. They tossed cold dirt on us just as my skin began to smolder. Reggie and Cal somehow wiggled their way further into the ground and I could hear them stop moving and rest. Daemon and I were in holes a few feet apart. I could feel where he was even though my eyes were closed and sound was muffled.

             
I guess I’ll always know where my sire is. I hope he can feel me, too. I hope he knows I’m okay.

             
I strained to listen through the foot of hard soil for the sounds off attack during the day, but exhaustion took over and I drifted off to sleep. For the first time, I slept in my unmarked grave. It was peaceful.