36. Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
Cason
After eating a hardy meal prepared by Norma and her daughter, they pass around dessert while the four families who live on surrounding properties explain how they all decided to band together.
Although it began with the virus, many of these hardworking men and women survived due to their isolation away from mainstream society.
However, the couple Bob mentioned before who came through as grifters gave them the insight they needed to be more cautious.
Two older couples who escaped the initial outbreak came up missing. This after speaking of the mysterious couple in need of assistance.
No stranger to the often harsh ways of life, this is when they joined together, meeting weekly to exchange news and discuss the coming months of harvest. Many of the people employed ran off to save their own families, leaving a skeleton crew to keep things operating.
Between the Richard’s, who have cows and horses, the Montague’s who plan to set up a forge and the Donahue’s who grow wheat and corn, these families could withstand much of what’s coming.
Bob and his family own enough cows to run a dairy farm. If our little crew can provide something these people need, we will be that much stronger, or they will, I guess. Either way, there’s peace of mind in knowing that we have allies.
“After what we heard on the news, we’ve been cautious,” Bob says. His mouth folds in a thin line and he shakes his head. “Still not sure what to think about our government abandoning us.”
“Yeah,” Bob’s son, Jack says. “And what about what they said? There’s people out there with no symptoms, carrying this shit?”
Norma clucks her tongue and his cheeks burn but he doesn’t retract his statement and I silently agree. With everything that’s happened, there’s been no time to consider the ramifications but what if this virus mutates? What if these silent carriers suddenly turn?
Since there’s fuck all I can do about, I add it to the list before turning to Bob when he says, “There are more supplies in Albany. We’ve tried to be thorough, but many of the stores are surrounded.”
“Can you distract them?” I ask and he meets my gaze.
“Unfortunately, son, many of our people aren’t cut out for that kind of mission but I’m hoping you young lads are willing to help with the job.”
I haven’t mentioned my plan to leave, and I don’t want to speak for the group. However, what he’s asking is dangerous. Especially if they’re not willing to do it themselves.
When I don’t respond, Bob continues, “It’s a risk. Sure, but we need those supplies if we’re going to last through winter and it may seem a long way away, but it will be here before we know it.”
Winter. I’m still struggling with the now, but these people are mapping out a future.
Thank fuck.
Sitting back, I look at Larry, Jason and Nora. At their silent support, I turn to Bob and say, “I think we can figure something out.”
Maybe I can stay long enough to make the trip to Albany. This would show Bob and the others our commitment and secure our place amongst them.
At my words, Norma clasps her hands together and casts me a warm smile before saying, “Enough business. Tell me how it’s going at the Colter’s. Is Judy's arthritis acting up again?”
“You mean Lottie?” Nora interjects with a puzzled frown.
“Lottie?” Norma says and when she turns to Bob, my stomach sinks.
Who the fuck is Judy and why do they expect her to be at the farm?
Shelby
Can a person go mad like this? Don’t be stupid Shelby. You’ve been trapped before but not like this.
Never like this.
I can’t sit for fear that it will further make me vulnerable but my feet fucking hurt standing here like this for what must be hours.
Where are the others? Did Cason come back? Are they looking for me?
At the thought despair washes through me and I cover my mouth for the sobs tearing at my throat. I don’t want to die here, like this.
Of course, while I have my mini-freak out, my leg cramps just as that thing brushes something far too close for comfort.
I don’t have time to brace my fall and whatever I bounce off on the way down gives beneath my weight.
The resounding crash echoes around the room, and I wince, scrambling to stand before it reaches me.
Shit. I lost my weapon.
My leg burns and I think I may have cut it against something sharp, but I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.
When it brushes my shoulder, the hysteria I’ve been forcing back bubbles over, and I scream before jumping backwards.
“Unnh,” it groans and I feel the whoosh of its body as it stumbles around, in a frenzy now.
With my heart in my throat, I spin in the opposite direction but whatever was behind me is large, really fucking hard and blocking my path.
My nose throbs from the impact, not to mention my knee which could be fucking broken for all I know. It’s secondary to my panic though and I have just enough time to turn before it’s on me.
Bracing for impact, I throw out my arms. My fingers sink into something gooey and slide around when I attempt to push it back.
It’s fetid breath puffs against my cheek and tears fill my eyes before I turn my head away.
I’m going to die. This is it.
Tragically, I don’t think I ever truly fucking lived and that’s a hard pill to swallow.
Ben’s greedy stare flashes over my vision as I push against the mass of what I can only assume are its intestines. The total darkness is almost a boon because I can’t see what’s about to happen to me. However, it also prevents me from making my next move.
When my limbs tremble, I slide to the side, but it follows and before I can brace myself, I’m on the ground.
Thankfully we somehow land on a bare patch of floor, but my lungs seize anyway because fuck, but the concrete floor is not forgiving.
When something drips onto my cheek, I roll away but there isn’t anywhere to go and after hours of sitting in the dark, the sounds around me are almost 3-D.
I track its movements by the shuffle of the feet, the clang of something to my right and the soft whoosh over my head.
Ducking down, I touch the floor and inch my fingers forward until I feel the soft leather slope of a shoe. I don’t know what else to do, so I go for what I know has worked in the past and push off my knees, pressing my shoulder into its legs.
The momentum forces it back, but it doesn’t fall, and I drop to my ass before swiping my leg out.
Unfortunately, the angle brings it down toward me and I roll away once more when it falls to the ground, displacing something that screeches across the floor.
While the fucker writhes around, I press my palm against its body, my fingers once more sliding through something slick and squishy. I don’t want to know what it is as I climb over its body and drop down.
The damn thing wiggles around like a flopping fucking fish while I inch up its body, avoiding it’s arms waving through the air.
When it’s fingers brush my chin, I wrench back and close my eyes. You can do this. Slow and easy.
Searching the air for the first hand, I flail for a minute until it comes back my direction before wrapping my fingers around the arm and shoving it to the floor.
Once it’s secure under my knee, I proceed to do the same with the other arm. Thankfully, this one doesn’t seem all that strong and I half wonder if it’s a woman based upon the size of its body.
Unfortunately, now I have to figure out how to end it for good while I can hear the clack, clack of it’s teeth snapping and the swoosh of it’s head writhing on the floor.
Reaching beyond the body, I brush my fingers against the concrete and search over the objects placed haphazardly around us.
The first one is too heavy. At the second I rear back because it’s soft and pliable.
Unable to truly imagine what I’m touching, I set that shit aside and continue my search, mentally fist pumping the air when my fingers curl around something metal, relatively hefty but not too heavy for me to lift.
“Shut up,” I mumble when the weird growls of the thing won’t fucking subside. The damn thing tries to buck me off, but it’s not coordinated enough to do much more than shift me around.
My next dilemma is that I can’t see it’s face and if I don’t do this just right, I may get my fingers bitten off. However, this is my only option unless I want to sit on this thing until someone else comes along and if it’s Lottie, I’m screwed anyway.
Sucking in a breath, I move my fingers across it’s chest, ignoring the weird squishy sensation. When I reach it’s neck, I press my hand against the chin and force my weight into my hand, partially subduing it.
My fingers ache when I bring the weapon up and slam it against it’s head, or part of it’s head. When the metal slips off the skull and meets the concrete, I wince and shake out my arm.
On the second swing, I close my eyes even though I can’t see shit. This time, the audible crunch followed by a pop, rings in my ears and I pause, blinking when sweat pours into my eyes.
It’s quiet but for my choppy breaths and I note the stillness beneath me before rolling away. Of course my knee rebounds off something, and I hiss before searching the ground beneath my head.
Once I know that it’s clear, I lay on my back, next to a twice dead fucking body and try to regain my equilibrium.
However, the longer that I linger beside it, the harder it is to focus on anything but the darkness consuming me, and I fall into it, headfirst and without anything to pull me back.