Food Supply - A Short Horror Story

 

 

FOOD SUPPLY

 

A SHORT HORROR STORY

 

By

 

Jean Daniel

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

FOOD SUPPLY

 

A SHORT HORROR STORY

 

Jean Daniel

 

Copyright 2026

 

All Rights Reserved.

 

 

For the others.

 

 

FOOD SUPPLY

 

It started with the bees, I guess. At least that’s what people were saying back then. Some new pesticide corrupted the flowers and the bees contaminated the other plants and then the produce was fed to the cows, the pigs, the horses and the chickens, etc… and then it escalated from there.

Others say it started in Japan, with some new hybrid carnivorous hornet that was accidentally shipped to the USA in containers and swarmed a bunch of dockworkers.

All I know is I haven’t had a decent meal in three years. We scavenge the abandoned cities at night when the infected are more likely to be sleeping. Sometimes we find a bag of frozen French fries or a forgotten Hot Pocket in some dead person’s freezer. Once in awhile we get lucky and discover a stack of canned goods. Most of the time, though, we come back to the safe house empty handed, our stomachs cussing at us for denying them the sustenance they need. It gets old, man, real old.

Sure, we have electricity, for now; from a damn good, expensive generator. But the TV stations are all deserted, and the internet service is gone - we get no real news, just rumors from other uninfected people surviving out there. Anybody with the money to take off did, leaving us wage-slaves at the mercy of the infected. Our bosses, their bosses, all the CEOs and politicians and athletes and rock stars and movie actors – well, I heard they’re all hiding out in the islands. The infected are shot if they come near an island in a boat. And they sure as hell can’t fly any planes. Neither can we with no fuel.

Me and my buds, and a couple of chicks, are holed up in this dead guy’s mansion. It’s built like a fortress, stone walls, big iron locks, with a lot of fancy chicken shit digital gadgets that don’t work anymore. I don’t know who he was. Rumor says he was a tech billionaire dingbat who created this shelter in anticipation of the second civil war. He never bargained on meeting his maker by being some infected freak’s dinner.

All day long we hear the newest of the infected roaming around outside. They call for their loved ones or cry for food – which means us. We are their food supply.

My name’s Danny, by the way. Danny Ortero. My buds are Joey Swartz and Bo Harvey. We wound up being trapped here six months ago, after our SUV was swamped by a horde of infected horses. They kicked the thing to pieces and would’ve eaten us down to the bones if Joey hadn’t sprayed them all with the last of our gasoline stash and lit a match. Damn, that was an image I’d love to erase from my brain. Along with a thousand others I’ve seen in these three years. Dogs bite people’s fingers off when they try to pet them – that happened to my best bud Jordan, he was missing three on his left hand. I had to shoot the poor mutt when he aimed for Jordan’s face. Later I had to shoot Jordan when he got the sickness and came after the rest of us. Cows stampede like thunder in the hills, stomping every human in sight then ripping at them like starved wolves. You can’t even trust a damn tick not to infect you as it sucks your blood dry.

In this mansion the situation is bizarre as shit, man; like some crazy ass version of Big Brother. The two ladies, Maura Teague and Chelsea Nicholls, came here a couple of months ago out of nowhere. They said they were escaping a prison farm full of the infected, the warden was keeping the women healthy in case their main food supply ran out. We didn’t believe them. We’ve learned the hard way not to believe anything anybody says. But we let them stay in the west wing of the mansion. So far they haven’t tried to eat us. They go out and scavenge around on their own. If they find extra they share; same with us. We only get together on Saturday night – well, we think it’s a Saturday, no calendars around – and have a game of gin rummy using some Paw Patrol cards I found in a kid’s bedroom downtown. (I don’t like to think about the kids. People say most of them were shipped to a safe island two years ago, my sweet little Rosa included, but we can never be sure of rumors. I only know I miss her like hell; and her mama, Lucy. Damn, that lady was the center of my universe. I guess I’m kind of loose and free falling now; nothing to catch hold of. No meaning to this life. Sometimes, I wonder why I keep fighting to live. Hope is a sick thing, man.)

Also on Saturdays we continue our treasure hunt, looking for the secret food stash that has to be in this house somewhere. We know it’s here. Preppers always stash food. But it’s a huge house, so many corners that might have a trap door or secret passage. We limit our searches to Saturdays to save our energy for foraging.

Speaking of energy, Maura is cool, she needs male companionship once in awhile and ain’t too picky about where she gets it, though I think she prefers me to Bo and Joey, since I still have a healthy ego and keep myself super clean. Bo and Joey don’t really care anymore; one shower a month would suit them fine.

Chelsea, now there’s a weird one, likes to hide away by herself in one of the top floor bedrooms for hours, just singing the old songs as loud as she can. Not a bad voice; maybe that’s just her way of coping. She’s pretty, small and blonde, like my Lucy. I’d give her a go if she’d offer but she doesn’t. Maura said she’s still pining over her man, who got infected and tried to bite her while she was sleeping one night. She had to beat him off of her with a broom and ran for the hills; then she was caught by the farm guards. Not the most romantic story of love lost I’ve heard, but it’s typical in these times.

My Lucy was amazing, wanted to stay and ride out the storm with me. I was the one that told her to take Rosa and escape to the islands, gave her what little bit of savings I had to do it. There was only enough to pay the smuggler for her and Rosa’s safe passage; if they made it out. I had to stay behind anyway to watch over my mom and pop. But the infected shits discovered them in my basement one day while I was out looking for food. I had to bury what was left of them in the yard. Just thinking about that makes me bawl like a baby. Nobody should have to die that way. Maybe that’s what is keeping me going; the idea that if I’m forced by circumstances to kill a few of the creeps I’ll be getting revenge for my mom and pop. They wouldn’t like that. They’d say leave it up to Jesus. I say where the hell was He when they needed Him?!

Last week a stranger came by, offering us some vegetables he grew. We didn’t trust him; heard too many tales about desperate sorts taking shelter from the infected to lead us lambs to our slaughter. He might’ve poisoned that food, or injected it with sleeping drugs. You can’t trust anybody here; not even each other, really. Bo, Joey and me go back a long ways, to middle school, but to be honest I wouldn’t trust them enough to turn my back to them. Hunger is ugly, makes you think bad thoughts. Joey as much as said he wouldn’t mind trying a human burger if there was nothing else left to gnaw on. Not that I haven’t wondered about it myself. But if I sink that low I might as well just stick a knife in my gut and call it a day. You got to have some kind of decency, if only so you can face your image in the bathroom mirror every morning.

Maura knocked at my door. I let her in. Just got back from a run; found some old wine and a box of canned tuna. Red wine. It doesn’t go well with tuna but maybe it’ll kill the pain I’ll have while I’m screwing Maura and thinking of my Lucy. I don’t know why I’d think it would, though. It never has before.

It was Saturday. Well, our Saturday. We were playing cards, drinking wine, after me and Maura cleaned up. A pack of wild dogs had been howling outside all evening, now they were tearing at each other. Not exactly the music you’d prefer for an evening’s entertainment but we ain’t got much choice.

“Sing us a song, Chelsea!” Joey yelled at her as she walked into the hall. She looked like a music video dream girl, wearing a purple satin gown with her golden hair draping her bare, pale shoulders. She and Maura liked to dress up on Saturday by dipping into the master bedroom closet’s endless pile of expensive threads – the dead billionaire sure couldn’t complain, or his trophy wife either. We found that dame first day we came here, lying dead, face down in a muddy ditch with her backside being eaten off by some ravaging raccoons.

Chelsea started singing a sad old tune, something by Evanescence, I think. I know Lucy liked it but I was never into that tearjerker kind of music. Life is sad enough without letting some damn song remind you of past miseries. I guess Chelsea was pretty much drunk or stoned. I caught a whiff of stale pot floating around earlier. She stood on top of a fancy carved round table and began to dance to her own voice, giving us guys a nice view of mutton now and again.

“What’s up with her?” Joey asked Maura.

“She’s hurting, is all. This was supposed to be her wedding day. She saved up for four years working at a Waffle House just to pay for it herself.”

“Tough. At least she’s alive.”

Chelsea jumped down from the table. “You call THIS being alive?”

“You’re breathing, ain’t you?” Joey shrugged.

“Breathing. Yeah. I am.”

Chelsea swirled about; started singing again. Bo watched her, decided to join her in the slow dance. He took her arm, she yanked it away, smacked his face.

“Damn, girl, chill out! All I wanted was a dance!”

“I don’t dance with anyone but Terry. And Terry’s … dead!”

There was a strange kind of tapping noise coming from the foyer, like a crowd of high heels or hooves. We all turned; saw the pack of wild dogs rushing toward the living room door.

“We’re all going to be dead if you don’t slam the door NOW!” I shouted.

Joey and Bo shoved the big door shut; locked it fast.

Maura began to freak out. “How’d they get in? This place is rock solid!”

“Joey, you were the last one out. Did you forget to lock the front door?”

“No, Danny, I never forget. Bo, did you…”

“Not me.”

“It was me,” Chelsea started crying. “I went out to find some flowers for my room. There’s a bunch of wild roses growing over by the front gate, on the outside. I just wanted flowers on my wedding day.”

Maura grabbed Chelsea by the hair and shoved her into a chair. “Save them to cover your grave with. You’re going to get us all killed!”

“I didn’t mean to … I …”

I took pity on her, maybe I shouldn’t have, but she looked so much like my Lucy. “It’s okay. Nobody’s dead, yet.”

“So how do we get those dogs out of here?” Joey asked.

“Round them up, cowboy style?”

“What do you mean, Danny?”

“Light some torches, Bo. They’re plenty in the wood pile by the big fireplace. Then we’ll herd them into the study and shoot them like fish in a barrel.”

“That sounds cruel,” Chelsea cried.

“Look, sister, these ain’t your typical pet shop puppies. They are wild, starving, sick beasts, looking for some meaty bones, namely yours. If you can’t help us do this, kick back in that chair and start singing the blues. Come on, guys!”

“Count me in!” Maura yelled. “My dad taught me to shoot when I was twelve.”

“I guess I better watch my manners around you from now on, huh?”

“Yeah, Danny, you better,” she winked, slapping my butt as she passed me.

We lit the torches, Bo and Joey went towards the hall from the living room, Maura and I slipped through into the dining area, made our way to the back of the hall. We all had our guns loaded and hanging over our shoulders, ready to fire.

I caught a bad smell in the air, like rotted flesh, as we watched the muddy dogs with dead victims’ blood staining their lips, their dirty teeth dripping saliva; they growled at us, their eyes unbearably raw with fear and pain.

“It’ll be a merciful deed putting those poor devils out of their misery,” Maura sighed.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Guys, they’re herded up close here. Guns up!”

They nodded. We let loose, popping the beasts with shot after shot, making sure every hit was as lethal as possible, to save ammunition for the bigger threats that we knew were waiting outside the gates.

Once the animals were dead, we dragged them out and tossed them as far out of the yard as we could. No use burying them; that was a waste of time and energy. The infected would only dig them up for dinner.

When we returned Chelsea was mopping the bloody foyer floor, humming a lighter tune. “At least they’re not suffering anymore,” she sighed.

Mornings were rough in the mansion; trying to get a handle on the fact that another useless day was starting. For me, it was one more day without Lucy and Rosa.

“You loved her a lot, didn’t you?” Maura had asked me the night before, after we’d made love for a second time. The wine had given us both an excuse to be close again.

“Who?” I stupidly said.

“The one whose name you call out every damn time you screw me. And I know you ain’t just fantasizing about Lucille Ball or Lucy Liu.”

I was busted. “Yeah, I still love her. But she’s long gone; her and my baby, Rosa. I sent them off to live safe on an island somewhere.”

“Lots of people were sent, doesn’t mean they made it.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that there was a jerk name of Sullivan who took money to deliver families safely to the islands, back when money still had value, but he grabbed the money and ran.”

I sat up, stared at her in the gray moonlight.

“Did you say Sullivan? Arch Sullivan?”

“That was his name.”

“How do you know about this? Where’s your proof?”

“I’m my proof.” She rose up, stood naked in front of the window, making a shapely silhouette. “I paid him a fortune to get me out. He took it, disappeared. Then I was captured by the Judas Squad, or that’s what we called them. Sullivan’s Judas Squad. They left us at the prison farm, to be servants, and standbys for the residents if they ran out of weaker victims. We’d be their meal ticket, literally. I told you about it.”

“Yeah, but I never believe anybody anymore. Too many of those Judases out there living off of the infected’s promises of security and future wealth. I figured you might be one of them.”

“You should have a little more faith, Danny. But I don’t blame you. Chelsea and I escaped that place by killing a Judas; her fiancé Terry. The one she can’t forget. It isn’t so much her love for him that haunts her. It’s the fact that she had to kill him to survive. He turned us in, would’ve eaten us raw if the bosses had let him.”

“God Damn. But … if Sullivan tricked you, what about Lucy? Was she … was she there, at the prison farm?”

“I don’t know. I don’t recall anyone named Lucy, but then we mostly went by numbers, not names. I was 208, Chelsea was 209. I heard a few girls called by names, not often, though. What did she look like?”

“Kind of like Chelsea.”

“Oh, that’s why I’ve caught you looking at her with a strange sadness in your eyes. I figured she reminded you of somebody. You know, I’ve actually been jealous of those glances.”

“Jealous? Now, wait a minute …”

She sat back down on the bed, began to rub me in just the right way.

“No worries, Danny. I won’t cling to you. But damn, you make me feel awfully good. Not even my husband gave me a rocking like you do.”

“Husband? Didn’t realize you had one.”

“I don’t. Now. The infection got him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I should be. Sorry, I mean. He was great in bed but damn, after awhile he got to be such a jerk. I’m sad he died, I’m angry that he suffered. But I never grieved after him. Is that wrong?”

“I can’t say. I didn’t know him.”

“You wouldn’t have liked him. He was weak and mean; never a kind word or compassion for anybody. He hated people for the color of their skin, their politics, their success…”

“So why’d you stay with him?”

“I was going to divorce him; I’d saved enough to hire an attorney. But then he became infected and went after a kid down the street. A cop put a bullet through his right eye. And that was it. Instant divorce. I tried to use the money to escape but Sullivan ruined that. No more talk, Danny, hum?”

“Fine with me, Maura. I’m bushed.”

“But not too bushed, maybe?”

She leaned down into me; gave me another going over. After that she was out like a light. Me, though, I couldn’t sleep. I kept having this one question nagging at my soul. What if Lucy was at that farm?

~~~

Sleep finally took me. But morning found me still wondering, though Maura had quietly gone back to her room before I woke. She never waited for the sunrise. Maybe feelings were just too real for her in the daylight.

I took a shower; the warm water seemed to cleanse my heart, brought my hope to the surface again. I ate a half can of Lima beans with a handful of stale crackers for breakfast. At some point you ignore the taste of things and just shove it into your mouth for fuel.

I looked out the window; Maura was out in the back yard, near the pool. We never used it, decided it was a huge waste of water that we might need eventually. It was full of murky rain water and leaves, and a frog or two. I slipped out the French doors and joined Maura, knowing we were fairly safe from attacks in that part of the yard.

“Where is this farm?” I asked Maura as she stood watching an infected Blue Jay devouring a rat’s carcass beyond the back gate.

“I should shoot the thing, shouldn’t I?” She didn’t wait for a reply but pulled out a pistol and dropped the bird dead with one bullet. The sound brought out a swarm of infected fools, scrounging for food. They reached through the iron bars of the gate, frantic for a taste of flesh, any flesh. But the gate was strong, held them at bay.

I hated seeing their faces, the glazed eyes, the foamy mouths. These used to be somebody’s loved ones; their dad, their aunt, their son. Now they were reduced to nothing but raving, ranting seekers of meat. Not zombies. They weren’t dead. They just had a lethal desire for flesh.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?”

She sighed, headed for the house. “I thought I’d get a fresh breath of air. Maybe we should shoot them all.”

“We made a pledge to only shoot those that threaten us.”

“I know, Danny, but God the suffering! I’d want someone to shoot me if I was infected.” She stopped, looked me straight in the eye. For the first time I noticed she had brilliant green eyes flecked with gold. “Promise me you will, shoot me, I mean, if I ever get infected.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Why not? I’d do the same for you.”

I stood there, and thought about it for a minute. “Sure, all right. I promise. But make certain it never happens, okay?”

She nodded. “Now, you wanted to know about the farm. It’s eighty miles or so north, on old Highway 31, in a town called Harrisville. They said it was a plantation house during the Civil War. I’d believe it. The place reeks of mold and death.”

“Could you draw me a map?”

“I can do better than that. I can take you there.”

“No, I couldn’t expect you to do that, Maura. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’d like to go back there. There was a girl, a kid, really, her number was 110 but we called her Tenny. I felt awful having to leave her there. She was so scared. If I could get her out I’d sleep better at night.”

“All right. Fine. But how do we plan this?”

Joey’s excited voice interrupted us. “I found it! I fucking found it, man! The jackpot! It’s here. It’s HERE!”

We hurried into the house, followed his shouting; it led us out the side door and into the garage. He was in the farthest part of the long building. We ran past car after car after car; none of them in working order since we had no gas or oil. Joey had found a fake wall panel behind a dust-laden RV and discovered a lever that opened a door in the floor.

“Look, Danny! It’s all down there!” He held cans of food in his arms; tears were actually welling up in his eyes. “It’s food; enough to last weeks, maybe months!”

Maura and me crept down a well-lit staircase, entered a solid room full of food, guns, ammo, etc… the thing that caught my eye was a wall of gasoline jugs – and they were all full.

We glanced at each other. “Now we can make a plan.” Maura smiled.

Bo had been upstairs sleeping; Chelsea, as usual, had been singing in her room. The five of us got together, decided that we’d load two vehicles up with as much stuff as they would carry then we’d split up. Maura and me would head to the Harrisville farm in an SUV; Bo and Joey and Chelsea would try to get to the ocean in the RV. We’d meet up there, in a little town called Skyler Bay then we’d figure out our next move.

First, we had a feast. Man, you don’t know how good something is until you have to do without it for a long time. A can of pineapple went down quick and smooth. I enjoyed every last chew. There were some instant meals among the supplies. We gorged ourselves on Swedish meatballs with noodles and steak and russet potato stew.

“That was better than sex!” Joey exclaimed after belching really loud.

“Says a lot about your sex life,” Maura laughed. It occurred to me that I hadn’t heard her laugh that freely before; most of the time I’d known her she could only manage a kind of sarcastic sneer.

Chelsea had disappeared after lunch. We assumed she was digging into her pot stash again. We were wrong.

We started loading up the two vehicles. Once we were ready we awkwardly made our goodbyes. Bo and Joey hugged me. I didn’t mind, though I was not much of an affectionate person when it came to other guys. But they’d been my companions through some bad shit that none of us would ever forget, and it bonded us. I guess the same way soldiers bond when they go through the hell that war heaps on them. We’d been in a kind of war, too.

We heard a terrible commotion in the mansion. Joey opened the door to the side of the house but quickly shut it again.

“What is it?” Maura asked.

“She’s let them in!” he said in a strange tone. “That bitch has let the freaks into the house!”

“We’ve got to save her!” Maura screamed. “They’ll kill her!” She bounded for the door but Joey stopped her.

Me and Bo gently opened the door an inch or two and looked through. A crowd of the infected fools were dancing around the living room, eating some of the food from the dead billionaire’s stash. Chelsea was on the table, high as the sun, singing to them and swirling her dress to reveal her legs.

A couple of freaks grabbed her, dragged her down; began to tear at her clothes. Then they all gathered around and started to bite her. She screamed and laughed at the same time.

“God Damn her!” I yelled as I raised my gun. I pounded the air with shots, felling some of the freaks. But they kept on biting her, tearing her flesh. She didn’t fight, just let them eat her alive. It was madness. I’d never seen anything like it. I froze, couldn’t fire another shot.

Maura pushed through; raised her gun and shot Chelsea straight through the head. She fell in a lump to the floor. The freaks scattered then returned to their feasting. But Chelsea was dead. She was feeling no pain, then.

Bo slammed the door; locked it. “Come on, Danny. We got to move!”

I must have been in shock. I couldn’t function. “Why the hell?” I wondered. “Why the fucking hell?”

“It’s what she wanted, Danny,” Maura sighed. “I knew it’d come to that eventually. She was half out of her mind after she killed Terry. She wanted punishment. I guess now she’s got it.”

Joey shook me a little. “Come on, bro. Let’s hit the road. They’ll take over the house. And they’ll come after us. I don’t want to waste any more ammo on them. We’ll need it later, to get away.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s git.”

I didn’t even glance at the place in the rear view mirror as we spun out of there. Sure, we had some decent times together in the mansion but most of it was pure shit. No use thinking about any of that. We had a mission to run.

We split up on the fork that led to Harrisville one way and Skyler Bay on the other, a hundred miles or more east of there. I kept thinking maybe we should just follow Bo and Joey and forget about that farm, but Maura wanted to save the girl called Tenny. And I had to be sure Lucy and Rosa weren’t there. I could never forgive myself if I didn’t at least make an effort to find them.

After a couple of hours of dodging a few of the infected as they dragged their hungry asses down the highway, we stopped by a creek near an abandoned subdivision. House after house, shittily built to begin with, were now rundown, leaves stuffing the gutters, the grass shoulder high. No letters from the local HOA telling them to clean up or go, I’d bet. Ha!

Maura took a leak in the hedges by the creek. I walked to the other side, did my business then stopped to enjoy the quiet atmosphere and pale yellow sun.

“Hard to believe hell is just round the corner from here.” I sighed.

She zipped up her jeans, came towards me. “Do you want to go back and catch up with the guys? I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to find my family. But you, you don’t have to go.”

“Yeah, I do. I know you don’t want to hear this but I’m too attached to you now to simply walk away. I’d rather live with you, or die with you, than be safe on my own.”

I stared at her hard. She was right. I didn’t want her putting words to her feelings. Especially since mine were starting to be the same.

“I can’t say… what I’m feeling, Maura. I ain’t never been good at that. But if there was no Lucy, maybe…maybe…”

“I know. Forget it. We’re almost there.”

She jumped into the SUV, took the wheel. I slipped into the passenger side, tried not to look at her. In different circumstances I’d fall hard for her without batting an eye. But Lucy was out there. And Rosa. Or maybe they weren’t. The not knowing was tearing my insides up. I couldn’t give my heart to somebody else until I was sure.

All of a sudden the road was full of fierce-eyed felines, aiming to make us their lunch. Maura swerved the vehicle; hit a few intentionally. They screeched. I swatted some away from my window with my rifle. One grabbed my sleeve; I flung it loose, watched it land in a ditch. It got up and came at us again. I got the window up in time to stop it; it hit the glass, left blood smeared all across it.

“Damn!” Maura cried. “Is there anything that isn’t infected?!”

“I ain’t seen one critter yet. Maybe this is the Apocalypse, huh?”

“I can’t think that way, Danny. I want to survive.”

“So do I. But the world’s against us. Maybe we should do ourselves in and get it over with.”

“No, you wouldn’t. It isn’t in you. Or you’d have already done it years ago.”

“I’m glad you’re sure of that, ‘cause I sure as hell ain’t!”

Harrisville came into view. We ate a couple of Pop Tarts we’d found in the billionaire’s stash as we moved slowly through the empty town. It was one of those places nobody knew or cared about anyway; just a blip on the radar screen back when the weather lady would call out the names of towns that were getting creamed by a bad storm, minute by minute, along with Pig’s Hollow or Bucksnort.

The few storefronts had been boarded up when the infection first started. The plywood was old now and rotted by the rain and sun. Cars sat around, useless without gasoline; a tacky, painted sign said Sullivan’s Farm was three miles east.

“He named it after himself?”

“Yeah,” Maura said, with a sneer. “He fancies himself to be a leader of some kind, maybe a mini Stalin or Napoleon, I don’t know. But his followers let him think it, so they can eat.”

“Ain’t it always the way? Just once I’d like to see somebody try to be a dictator and fail. But the groveling weasels are there, waiting to follow, every damn time.”

We hid out until dark then made our way carefully towards the farm. The enormous house looked like it had been transported from the Tara Plantation in Gone With The Wind. A black mesh fence surrounded it, spoiling the scenery. Armed guards paced back and forth, their eyes focused on the road. A big bunk house sat near the back fence. The place was lit up with solar lamps; I couldn’t see a safe way in.

“C’mon,” Maura whispered. “There’s a break in the fence down by the creek. That’s how we got out. They probably haven’t found it yet. We weaved it together so it looks normal, unless you touch it.”

I followed her lead, just barely squeezing my big frame through the tiny opening in the fence. I tore a small gash in my arm; stifled a groan.

“Damn, if they smell my blood…”

“Don’t worry. They’re humans, baby, not bloodhounds.” She smiled.

We scooted across the creek as slowly as possible to avoid making any splashing sounds. The bunk house was full of noise; singing, crying, laughing. All female.

“Don’t they hoard any guys for meat?”

“Nah. Sullivan’s a classic narcissistic chauvinist. He keeps the men as allies and the women as food. Are you ready if we have to shoot to kill?”

“Yeah, ready.”

“Then let’s go!” she sighed, gun up. I raised my gun, too, worrying that I might hit the trigger too quick and hurt an innocent soul. I guess I wasn’t as tough as I told myself I was. “Can you kick in the door?” Maura asked.

“I can try!” I leapt up, put all of my weight onto the wood door. It gave slightly. These things never were as easy as they looked in the movies. I tried again; someone screamed inside.

“Shut up, fools!” Maura hoarsely called out. “We‘re here to help you!”

I shoved the door hard, it splintered. Girls wailed from inside the bunk house, others were peeking through the door.

“It’s her!” a voice whispered. “208! Hurry, come in! We thought they’d eaten you!”

We slipped through, tore the rest of the door apart. The bunks were full of scantily clad women, most looked dazed; some hid in the corners. A few stood strong, ready to go.

“I told you all I’d come back if I could. Where’s Tenny?”

“She’s in the main house.” A plump woman in ragged pajamas replied. “Mr. Sullivan decided she could move in with him after her mama died.”

“Her mama?” Maura looked confused. “I didn’t know her mama was here.”

“Oh, sure. You remember. The little blonde that was staying at the guard house up front, trying to wiggle her way into Mr. Sullivan’s good graces. She finally made it. Then he got mad at her for some reason and tossed her out. She died the next night.”

“Died? Or was killed and served up for his dinner? That’s usually what happens.”

The women all glanced at each other. No one said anything. Maura sighed.

“This is going to be harder than I thought, Danny.”

“Yeah, well, nothing is easy these days. But if the girl has gone over to their side, maybe she ain’t worth saving.”

“I need to know if she is worth saving or not. 350, do you think she’s infected?”

An older woman with short cropped white hair turned towards us. Her dark eyes were marred by red lines; you could tell she was the kind who cried a lot. She lowered her gaze.

Maura sighed again. “Okay. Tenny’s a lost cause. I tried, anyway.” She held still for a second, looked like she was holding back some tears of her own. “Ladies, we are getting you all out of here, if you’re willing to try.”

“You got any guns we can use?” the plump woman asked as she slipped on some jeans.

“Here’s a handgun,” I offered. She took it, eased her hands over it like it was a gift from Heaven. “Do you know how to shoot it?”

“I’m a fast learner, baby. Just give me the general picture.”

A few others stepped forward to watch as I went over the basics. Maura gave them a couple of guns she had stuck in her pockets.

“Everybody ready?” she whispered. “If you don’t think you can go, we’ll understand.”

“Are you kidding? What choice do we have?” 350 cried. “I’ve seen so many girls go out that door, kicking and wailing, and they never came back. Then would come the smell, that awful stench of flesh cooking. We’d all rather die fighting than wind up in Sullivan’s stewpot!”

“Let’s go then.”

“Wait,” I said, “Maura, you lead them all down to the fence. I’m going to look around for Lucy and Rosa.”

“If they’re not in the bunk house they ain’t here, Danny.”

“Maybe they’re in that guardhouse, like the mama was.” I stopped talking. Something the plump woman had said was gnawing at my gut. I didn’t want to think it, but…well, it was there. I had to say it or bust. “What did Tenny’s mama look like again?”

“She was short, blonde, with kind of pale blue eyes. A real tough little chick.”

“Danny, you don’t think…?”

“Yeah, Maura, I do. Lucy had real pale blue eyes like a husky dog. They could get freakish sometimes, especially if she was angry.”

“That’s her!” the plump woman shouted in a hoarse whisper. “And she was really feisty, you know, used to fight with everybody. That young one, though, was a sweet kid, only about fifteen. I hated it when she moved into the main house.”

“So, why did she?” I questioned.

They all got stone quiet.

“I know why,” 350 said, finally. “She wanted revenge. She thought if she got into the big house she’d get a chance to make Sullivan pay for what he did to her mama.”

“Sounds like what a kid of mine would do,” I said. I was struggling not to let go in front of the women. But thinking that my Lucy was dead, that she had died in that way … it was worse than what happened to my mom and pop. I couldn’t get it out of my mind … the images were too easy to conjure up after all I’d seen in the past. I turned away from them all, tried to stop the rage that was busting through my veins. I had to calm down, for Rosa’s sake.

“Danny, baby, we need to go,” Maura said, shaking me out of my thoughts. I looked at her in the dim light. Her eyes were soft, understanding. She got it. She knew what I was feeling. I took some strength from that.

“Yeah, you all get to the fence. I’m going for Rosa.”

“All right. But I’m not taking off without you.”

A sudden racket made us all jump. Tires screeched, men yelled then came a loud crash.

“What the hell?” I peered out; saw an RV storming towards us. The guards were shooting at it as they chased it up the drive.

“Danny? Maura? You guys here?”

I couldn’t believe it. Joey and Bo were in the RV, waving their guns.

“Damn, man! Here we are! Ladies, head for the driveway!”

They took off; Maura and me gave them cover in a blanket of bullets; we hit a guard here or there and felled them. The women piled into the RV; the plump woman grabbed Bo and gave him a big wet kiss as she boarded. He was dazed for a second.

“Danny, you all coming?” he shouted.

“Naw, I’m still looking for Rosa! What in God’s name possessed you two to come round here?”

“We figured we couldn’t sleep too good if we just left you and Maura to make this run on your own.”

“Yeah, we’re stupid, I guess,” Joey added.

“Maybe, but I’m glad of it.”

“So am I!” the plump woman smiled. “And as soon as we get free of this hellhole I’m going to show you my utmost appreciation, pretty boy!” She was looking straight at Bo.

“Damn, woman, I’ll take whatever you can give! Joey, hit the gas!”

They spun out of there like a tornado, left dust in their wake, choking the guards that had filed out of the main house, two by two.

Maura pulled me behind a Hummer to avoid the hail of ammo that showered the driveway. We fired back, taking down a few more guards. In all the dust we became invisible; we headed for the mansion.

A tall man stood on the upper porch underneath a flood light; it was Arch Sullivan, looking like the villain he was, dressed all in black with a western hat pulled over one eye. A pretty blonde teen shivered beside him. My Rosa.

The dust began to clear. I walked out with the vengeance of God directing me. I had no fear of bullets or of getting bit. My mind was straight and determined. That was my kid up there, mine and Lucy’s, and nobody was going to keep me away from her.

“Daddy! It’s my daddy” she screamed. “Save me! Please!”

“I’m coming, baby girl!” I called back as I flew into the house and up the winding stairs. I met them at the top of the landing.

Sullivan grabbed Rosa by the hair and started to drag her down the hall. I followed; he held out his hand.

“Stop or she’s dead.” He picked her up, ready to throw her over the banister.

A crowd of the infected came out of a nearby door. They swarmed me. I fought them off, flinging them every which way before they could bite me.

Rosa was squirming in Sullivan’s hands; he set her down, she tried to run but he twisted her around, aimed his teeth at her throat.

“No! You won’t infect me, you bastard!” She kicked at his shins, almost got away but he dug his grip into her.

“Rosa!” I raised my gun, pointed it at Sullivan’s skull. He was laughing as the shot hit him square in the forehead, splattering the cowboy hat, and his brains, all across the wooden floor. His body fell with a thud. Rosa screamed then ran towards me.

“Daddy!” she whispered as she flung herself into my arms.

I kissed her head, her face, her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent. It was like Heaven, having her there, safe in my grasp.

“Daddy…mom…I couldn’t help her…”

“I know, baby girl. I know.”

“Danny! We’ve got to get out of here!” Maura called from below. She was fighting off a hoard of the infected. I started shooting at them, knocking her free.

I swept Rosa up and hurried down the stairs. We all bounced out the double doors and ran for the Hummer. Maura grabbed a flare gun from the back seat and shot a flare into the house. It caught the curtains on fire. In record time the house was blazing; what guards were left scrambled to douse it, giving us time to high tail it out of there.

Once on the road, I took a minute to evaluate the situation. Rosa looked thin but okay. Maura wasn’t as good. There was a tear on her left sleeve; blood covered her bare skin.

I pulled over in a parking lot, began to examine her. She’d been bitten all right. We looked into each other’s eyes.

“I guess it’s time,” she smiled. “You know, to do what I asked.”

“No, no, we’ll think of something. We’ll cauterize it. Yeah, we can do that.”

“People tried that when this shitty thing first started, Danny. It didn’t work then. It won’t now. Let’s go over there, behind the Target store. I used to be the manager of one back in Leoma.”

“Daddy?”

“Oh, Rosa. This is Maura. She’s a good friend of mine.”

“I know. She was my friend, too. When mom went nutty and tried to save herself by cozying up to the guards and then Sullivan, I was so ashamed. I didn’t tell anybody she was my mom. Maura was kind to me. She took good care of me. But she’s been bitten. We can’t trust her now.”

“She’s right, Danny.”

I knew what they were saying was true. But I’d lost Lucy and my mom and pop. I got my Rosa back but I cared about Maura, too. I couldn’t lose somebody else. It’d be too much.

“Maybe somebody has a cure somewhere. We could look. We could go find out.”

“They don’t, Danny. Fuck it, man, don’t make this any harder. If you can’t shoot me, I’ll do it myself!”

“No, I’ll do it. Stay here, Rosa, be ready to go when I get back. And lock the doors.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Maura.”

“That’s okay. I’m just glad your daddy found you.” They clasped hands.

I followed Maura to the back of the store. She lay down on a grassy spot, readied herself for the end.

“I’ll dig a hole first. I don’t want somebody to find you and…”

“No, Danny, don’t worry about that. Once my spirit is free it won’t matter what happens to this body.”

“Can I hold you a minute? I kind of like that body. I’m going to miss our Saturdays together.”

“Sure, but don’t leave Rosa alone too long. I’ll miss you, too, Danny. At least I had a good man for awhile. My husband was a dick. But I told you that before, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

I took her into my arms for the last time and kissed her. One shot and that was it. Another image I had to try to forget.

Me and Rosa headed out for Skyler Bay after that; hoping to catch up with Bo, Joey and the women. But nothing was for certain. Hope was about all we had left.

 

THE END