The dead
Chapter 2
We were sitting on the sofa, my legs draped over a pillow, my head resting on Paxton's lap. Peter and I decided to stay for the winter and help out on the farm. Peter had gone upstairs to sleep leaving the two of us alone. Paxton's fingers gently stroked my forehead, making me doze as we spoke; it had been a long time since I let anyone get this close, not since the complex. We both try to avoid talking about anything more than the chores we've set for the day, especially when Peter is in the room The few times either of us had spoken about what had happened before we arrived here had left the boy shaken. Bad memories for both of us still lay beyond the gates of the farm. With fall nearly in full swing and winter on the way, it was something we wouldn't have to worry about for a few months.
"Would you like to come upstairs?" His head drifting over mine.
"I'm fine down here, you're just hoping for sex, and that's the last thing on my mind at the moment," laughing as I sat up, nearly crashing my head into his.
"I figured you would be more comfortable in the bed. I can sleep down here or perhaps we could share the bed, make the couch a whose ever on watch position. When was the last time you slept in a bed?" He wrapped an arm around my waist and brought his lips to my shoulder.
"I spent the last year sleeping in abandoned cars and up against trees. This couch is the most comfortable place I have slept in a while."
A loud bang from the kitchen startled us and brought us to our feet. Grabbing our guns, we made our way to the door, expecting to see undead monsters. Then a man's voice calling for help.
Flinging the door open we watched as a man carrying a small child fell through. Scampering the rest of the way in; the man begged Paxton to close the door. As he did a rotting hand reached for him. I threw my body into the door, slamming it shut. The dead arm fell to the floor with a thump.
"Damn it, Zoe that thing could have scratched you." Paxton scolded bolting the door.
"Don't worry, it didn't get me. Let's just take care of those two."
"Thank you." The man said as he hugged the girl closer to him. They both had long, shaggy blond hair. The man had a wild animal look about him, not too surprising from what had just happened.
Before he could say much else the girl began to cry, taking his attention from the rest of the room. He spoke to her in a soft soothing voice trying to calm her.
She was small and thin, couldn't have been more than a couple of years old. Then again malnutrition could have been a factor in her size. After a minute she stopped crying, looked around the room, and reached for me.
"I'm sorry, her mother was better at comforting her than me. I think she sees you and thinks of her mother." The man, as the girl pulled from him, almost falling from his arms said with a defeated look on his face.
The girl tumbled out of her father's arms and scuttled over to me. Tears filled her eyes as she stretched her arms out, begging to be picked up. I'm not much of a fan of children, but she looked so helpless that I lifted the small creature into my arms allowing her to cuddle. It was a relief not to hear her bawl. For a while, the only sound was the undead fellow scratching at the door.
"So what are we going to do about that?" I asked as the girl, now shaking at the sound, pressed herself closer to me.
A shot rang out and the scratching stopped. I could hear Peter's heavy steps clomping down the stairs seconds later.
Peter charged into the kitchen, ignoring the small child on my lap and focused on the man standing in the kitchen. "Are there any more?"
"There were three following us. All I could do was run." He replied looking down at the girl.
"I can take them," Peter said checking his gun.
"You are not going out there alone," I said trying to hand the girl back to her father.
Paxton going into the other room and returning with a couple rifles and handing one to the blond man. "You are not going out there at all, Peter. I need you to keep Zoe and the girl safe. You, come with me."
Opening the door Paxton leaped out, our visitor following him, leaving me, Peter, and the girl inside. By now she was so exhausted she had fallen asleep against me. I carried the small girl into the living room and lay her onto the couch she whimpered for a moment and quickly dozed back off as exhaustion overtook her.
I walked back to Peter who was keeping an eye out the window and anxiously waiting for both men to return. He wanted to be out there helping clear the yard.
"They'll be back any minute, so stop sulking," I said searching the cabinets for something quick to cook. Finding a can of soup I grabbed a pot and set about cooking a small meal for our visitors.
I knew the man had to be starving and wasn't about to let the girl go hungry. We didn't have much and Paxton and I was supposed to go out and search for more food to keep us fed for the next few months. Maybe we would get lucky and find another farm or house that hadn't been picked over by scavengers. The last few times he and Peter had gone out, I had stayed behind to gather what I could from the small garden, and found a few useful things, canning supplies, a few cans of gas siphoned from a few vehicles that had been abandoned but not much else.
"We are going to have to fix that hole in the morning, but we should be able to put the truck in front of it and keep more from coming in. Why don't you get cleaned up and grab a bite to eat. This shouldn't take long," Paxton said as the two men stepped in from the yard and he grabbed for his keys.
Apparently, there was a breach in the fence and that could mean losing a day of hunting, depending on the size of the hole. I watched as Paxton led the man to the kitchen and started back for the door.
"You're going to need backup," catching the door just before it closed. I didn't like the idea of him being alone out in the dark, it made me nervous. I closed the kitchen door behind me and followed him out to the truck.
"Just go back in and make sure everybody is fed and comfortable. This won't take long," He made his way to the truck, me at his heels.
"I don't want anything to happen to you or Peter. Will, you just stop," grabbing his arm and giving it a hard tug.
Paxton turned and faced me, the light from the kitchen window slightly illuminating his face for a moment as he gestured for me to climb in. As I began to step around to the passenger side, I felt him grab me. He pulled me so close I could taste his breath. My heart began to race as he leaned in.
"Something's moving out there. Get in on this side." Paxton breathed lifting me into the cab before crawling in himself, easing the door shut as quietly as he could.
I searched the dim light for movement and saw nothing but the opacity of night before Paxton pointed out the faint silhouette that moved along the edge of the vehicle. The figure made it's way over to the passenger side of the truck, it's long nails clinking on the glass, like heavy rain on a window, as it searched for a way to get at us. I flinched as it slammed its hand against the glass as the tinkling gave way to thudding and banging.
"I want you to lower the window about an inch and crawl into the back seat, be careful my shotgun is back there. I want you to hand it to me, cover your ears the best you can, and keep your head down. This is going to hurt."
"I can handle a little hearing loss, just don't get either of us killed. Let's kill this bitch and get that fence blocked," I ducked down as low as I could and began to slowly turn the window crank until I was sure that the opening was wide enough for the barrel of the shotgun to easily fit through without inviting our rotting guest too far inside. Looking up I saw Paxton sling the shotgun from the backseat howling for me to drop. I slid as far as I could under the dashboard and covered my ears, barely able to block the sound of the shot.
My ears thundered from the shot as I looked up from the floorboard. The shotgun was no longer in Paxton's hand, he was leaning across the seat rolling the window up as quickly as he could, with a worried look on his face. I coughed as the scent of gunpowder hit me. Paxton glanced down, the concerned look leaving as he adjusted allowing me to climb back into the seat hugging me to him before I was able to get settled, his musk overpowering the smell of combustion that clung to the interior.
"I thought you were going to let me get to the back before you started firing?" I could feel his chest vibrating and knew he had to be speaking but staticky thunder was all that filled my head. I pulled away and looked at him, not confused but a little shocked. I had thought I was used to the sound of guns firing, I had been able to block the sound out while we had been in the compound, my ears somehow trained to know the difference between the far off sound of soldiers fighting off from their towers to the sound of survivors fighting for survival. Maybe it was the proximity of the shot. I put my hand on his face and tried to talk as quietly as possible as I told him my predicament.
He pulled away from me with a small smile and started the truck. We still had to block the fence before anything else could be done. He put the truck in gear and took off towards the damaged spot. I wanted to ask how bad the hole was and if there was a way to fix it quickly, but unfortunately for us, that would have to wait until we were back inside where it would be easier to communicate. It took an agonizing few minutes to get to the fence and block it. Wanting to inspect the gaping maw that had been ripped into the fence, I reached for the door only to have my hand seized before it could reach the handle. I looked over at Paxton and watched the shadow of his head shake, and was certain he was telling me to hold off, but without the ability to hear, at the moment, I'd be dead, especially in the pitch black that surrounded us.
We sat there in the dark, Paxton's hand still holding mine with the realization looming over us that we were going to have to make it back to the house with no way to tell if there was any more dead waiting in the shadows. Opening the glove box I released my companion's hand and began searching for anything that might help us get back to the house safely. Fortunately for us, there was a flashlight stashed inside. It would help a little considering we had no idea how many had gotten in during our trek to the fence.
Flipping on the light I scanned the area around the front and side of the truck. Nothing near us that I could see. I turned the light on Paxton and with a quick nod, he once again grabbed the shotgun. With a quick motion, he flung the door open and slid out, me on his heels, scanning for movement in the shadows as the gleam of the flashlight lead us closer to the glow of the cabin's windows.
Halfway to our destination, I saw Peter framed in the blinding incandescence of the door motioning for us to hurry as he darted out the door rifle trained on moving shadows near the side of the house. I stopped and the beacon of light veered toward where the boy was aiming and saw two dead things ambulating towards him. Unable to move, I watched as he took them down with ease. I felt a tug at my shirt and broke from my trance as Paxton began to pull me towards the door.
We stumbled over the threshold and into the blinding glow of the cabin, no worse for the wear and thankful to be inside. Peter shut and bolted the door quickly then began to ask us what had gone on outside. Some of my hearing was starting to return but whatever I was hearing sounded like I had my head underwater. I tried to explain to him about my lack of hearing, but he seemed to miss the point until I spoke in what I thought was going to be my normal, everyday voice. I instantly figured out I may have been a bit too vocal by the unpleasant face the boy made.
I softly apologized and turned to find a pen and paper, and noticed our guests had vanished. Peter, as if knowing what I was about to ask, pointed upstairs, and mouthed, my room. I nodded and restarted my search moments later, returning with a yellowing notebook and an old, slightly chewed pencil. Flopping down on the couch I began to tell Peter what had happened as simply as I could.
I handed the notebook to Peter and watched Paxton pace by the fire, with a worried look on his face. I had expected Peter to be upset and the boy was by his smothered rant at the older man. Standing, I grabbed Peter and flung him into a nearby chair.
Ripping the notebook from the boy's hands the words pouring from me, probably a little too loudly, "I put myself in danger when I went out there and Paxton saved my ass. That fence is going to have to be fixed whether we can hear or not, so we are going to have to put any plans we have on hold and take care of the situation at hand."
I knew Peter was scared, but I was too pissed to care. All I wanted was to get my hearing back, fix the hole in the fence, and go scavenging for supplies. There were now two more mouths to feed. That was if Hoyt decided to stay. Either way, we needed supplies to keep us from starving as winter quickly approached. I watched as he drew his legs up to his chin and started to shake. It wasn't the first time he's seen me like this, and it wouldn't be the last, not like he had anything to worry about when I got angry but I seriously just wanted him to know that I was not in the mood for his shit. Peter has a way of getting under my skin at the wrong time, he thinks I need him to protect me and when I say anything to the contrary he pulls the helpless child act. I had hoped that even with the short time we had been here he might have grown out of this just a little. I tossed the notebook onto the table with a sigh and started for the stairs. I needed some time to calm down and decided to take Paxton's offer of the bed.