Another Zombie Apocalypse Tale: Part 16

Three Weeks and Two Days Since the Apocalypse

Mario did know how to get to the highway. He used to live in a small town not far from this city, so he knew the area fairly well, which was one of the reasons he stayed. He knew places to hide to avoid the Grinning Man’s group—who apparently called themselves The Brood. Ick.

As we got closer to the vehicle, I began to rehearse what I needed to say to the group and as I did, questions surfaced. What if they didn’t believe me? What if they thought I’d left Beckett, Myra, and Elsie behind on purpose? What if they thought I was part of the ambush?

What if, right now, I was unknowingly leading the Grinning Man’s group to them? I glanced at Mario. I didn’t know him very well. What if he was part of the Grinning Man’s group? He admitted to doing what he had to in order to survive. But I recalled the tremor in his voice when he told me The Brood wasn’t good, and I’d like to believe that it was because he’s scared of them, and not because he’s hiding something.

Movie logic would demand that he would be leading us into a trap, though.

It was too late to turn around. The vehicle we’d arrived in was in sight, illuminated by the warm glow of a solar powered street lamp, and Amber/Kimber’s stout figure appeared, her metal garden rake was held at the ready, Erik alongside her as he adjusted his glasses. Marianne appeared next to them; baseball bat held low but her grip was tight, ready to beat whatever she needed to. I stopped short and held my hands up. Mario mimicked me.

“Where’s Elsie? Beckett?” The black woman’s gaze flicked past us before landing on me. The accusation in her tone was warranted but it didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little.

I told them what happened, how we were herded into a trap, then I was left outside to be the entertainment for the Brood. “We need a plan,” I said when I finished explaining. I glanced at Mario. “He’s been on the inside, he can help.”

“What?” Mario took a step back. The whites of his eyes bright in the streetlight. “You can’t be serious about going back there.” He looked at all of us then his gaze found me, and he pleaded, “Camille, I told you they were bad news.”

“All the more reason we need to get them back,” Marianne said, her tone cold and she moved to stand in front of him. Amber/Kimber put a hand on her arm, coaxing her to back down and to not scare the poor guy, and Mario was scared; trembling, wide eyed, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Give us a second,” I said, brushing past Marianne and Amber/Kimber(I really needed to remember her real name), and took Mario by the shoulder, much in the same way our coach would, and led him from the group. We leaned against a sedan and stared out over the empty wasteland. “Look, you don’t have to come along, but…” I picked at the flaking paint near the taillight. “We need to get them back and whatever info you have on these guys would be appreciated.”

“You want to know what these guys do?” Mario’s voice shook and he pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie, revealing his wrists; the skin was rubbed raw and caked with dried blood. “If you don’t take part in the initiation, you become the initiation.” Then he pulls the collar of his hoodie down, even in the dim light, I can see the bruises around his neck and on his collarbone.

The sight of his wounds and what they could mean stole my breath. “Allen,” my voice was tight with horror, “did he—”

Mario laughed, a bitter and sad sound. “He has skills useful for the zombie apocalypse,” he said, referring to Allen’s Olympic and medieval warrior talent with the javelin. “Being able to sustain a seven-minute mile pace for several hours is not as impressive. Not anymore.”

“All the more reason I need to get them out,” I said, even as my blood ran cold. What would they do to Allen now that he’d assisted in my escape from the horde of dead? What would they do to Myra if they found out she didn’t turn? Beckett and Elsie were both grown adults, but against a group of adults they stood no chance. Why did I feel inclined to save them? Besides Allen, I didn’t know them. Was it because of Myra? Was it some human instinct to want to save and protect? I didn’t know the why, I just knew that I’d already made the decision and I was going to get them away from the Grinning Man’s brood.

“Tell us everything you know about the layout, how many people they have, the hierarchy,” I said to Mario, rising my chin in determination, channeling all the badass characters in the movies. “You can hide out here. I’ll even leave my backpack with you.”

Mario laughed again, running his hands through his dark curls. “God, they’re right giving you that nickname. Kamikaze.” He looked at me, sad and defeated. “Only this time you’re going to get yourself killed for real.”

Back with the rest of the group, Mario told us everything he knew about the Brood’s setup. Elsie’s earlier assessment of them not having ammo was correct. The guns were just for show; until they acquired ammo, of course. Luckily, they only have the shotgun I used to shoot at the Grinning Man and whatever ammo was left in it. Beckett and Elsie—and the rest of the group—only had the ammo that was inside of the guns they carried. It was a rule to only carry what your weapon could hold.

Now, the rest of the group thought The Brood also had Elsie’s handgun. The Glock. I didn’t feel inclined to tell them that I had the gun. Mario kept his mouth shut about it. It’s not like the gun would be of any use to us right now anyway, being empty and all that.

“We should just leave them,” Erik said. When Marianne turned on him, he flinched away and raised his hands in defense. “It’s the logical thing to do. Why risk all our lives?”

“Feel free to stay behind.” Marianne raised the bat and rested it on her shoulder before she turned to the rest of us. “Same goes for any of you.”

I shrugged. “You already know I’m in.”

“Same here,” Amber/Kimber said.

“I’ll go,” Mario said, a tremor in his tone but with a newfound determination behind it.

“That settles it.” Marianne glanced back at Erik. “You stay with the truck.”

“Okay, give me the keys.” He held his hand out to her.

The woman snorted and began walking away.

“I’ll wait for you guys,” Erik called after her, “but I’d love to be able to get out of here if you aren’t back by sunrise.”

Marianne showed no sign of handing over the keys, but Amber/Kimber—being the one who drove the vehicle to begin with—pulled the keys from her pocket and held them over.

“We’ll see you in a few, okay,” she said in a kind, quiet voice.

“Thanks, Kimber.” Erik took the keys, his fingers lingering on her palm. “I’ll be here.”

Ah, Kimber. Now, I knew her name but I’d lost a little respect for her as she handed the keys over to the guy who shot at me. I had to remind myself, though, that the two knew each other, and with the way she carried herself, I didn’t think she’d hand over the keys if she didn’t trust Erik.

Or maybe she was a realist and figured there was a big chance that we weren’t coming back—which was a real possibility. If this was a horror movie, none of us would return. Maybe one of us would, but we’d be so messed up it wouldn’t matter. If this was an action film, then most of us would make it back, just as dawn began to break. But this was real life and realistically we were on a suicide mission.