Lane came back after a few minutes, shaking the pan around and hitting me with spots of water.
“Stop that.”
“I was air drying it for you,”
“Not all over me,” I said, yanking it away from him.
“It's getting dark,” Lane said.
“No shit,” I mumbled.
“Are you always this moody?” he asked.
“Are you always this annoying?” I asked.
Lane didn't respond and picked up his rucksack. I packed my cooking utensils away, then saw Lane
rubbing something across his bottom lip. He stopped when he saw me watching him.
“My lips get dry,” he said, holding his hand out to me.
I gave him a questioning look but didn't hesitate to take it. I glided the
ChapStick
across my lips and
rubbed them together.
“You better not be infected,” I said, handing it back to him.
“What else have you got in your bag? Anything useful?”
Lane brought his rucksack over to the log and opened it up for me to see inside, pulling out random
things.
Deck of cards, dry cereal, numerous packets of gum, comic books, one T-shirt, a corkscrew, and
three cans of beer.
“You don't even have any spare socks,” I said.
“I used all of them and then threw them away.”
“Okay, FYI don't throw your socks away until you can replace them. I usually wash mine out in the
river. But I've got spares, so I haven't had to do that for awhile.”
“What's that?” I asked, sticking my hand into his bag, then I realized it wasn't my bag and I didn't
know Lane well enough to go through his stuff, so I quickly pulled my hand back out.
“It's okay, did you mean this?” He lifted out an extra large meat pounder with a wooden handle and
a steel ridge dual head.
I didn't like the idea of using something so small as a weapon, it meant having to get close to the
zombie, something I always avoided. It meant reaching toward a zombie and exposing your hand or
arm for a tasty snack. That's why I liked my butcher-knife-stick-thingy, I kept a safe distance and
still managed to cause damage by waving it around like a magic wand.
“Cool!” I said, taking it from him.
I was still excited to see one. Those were the times we were living in, when a teenager thought a
meat pounder was
cool
.
“I'm guessing you haven't used this. It looks new,”
“No, I haven't used it. I wouldn't know what to do with it.”
“Pound things with it.”
“I'm not used to pounding things.” he said.
I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped my lips.
He looked at me and smiled when he realized what I was thinking.
“And you think I'm disgusting?” he said.
“Shut up! Here have your zombie pounder back. You could probably do a lot of damage with that
thing, but I like to keep my distance from their teeth.”
Lane put it back into his bag and shifted some of the contents around inside.
“Wait, what was that?” I asked, peering in.
“It's just a map.”
“What! Let me see,”
Out of all the things I thought he would be carrying in his bag, a map was not one of them.
He passed me the map and I unfolded it. Trying to remember the name of the last town so I could
locate where we were.
“You're here somewhere,” Lane said, pointing.
“Really? I didn't know I'd walked that far.”
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
I thought about it for a moment. I didn't really have a destination. I had been walking in hopes I
would find somewhere safe with other humans.
“I don't really have a destination.”
“I guess somewhere with lots of guards and guns would be the best destination.” he said.
“Hmm, I don't see that on here.” I said, looking up at him.
“Well, we'll just keep going until we find it.” he said, taking the map from my hands and folding it
back up.
Lane assumed we were staying together. I hadn't decided yet.
“What now?” he asked, lifting his rucksack onto his back.
“Now we find somewhere to sleep.” I said, picking up my saucepan.
“Where are you going?” he called.
I spun around. “Shhh, I'm just going to get some water.” I whispered loudly.
I hurried to the edge of the river and walked back with the saucepan full of water and tossed it on
the fire. It wasn't a large fire, so it went out easily, then I stomped on the rest.
“I think if you want to call me for anything we should come up with something else that doesn't
involve you shouting.”
“You just started walking off, I thought you were leaving me.”
“Yes, of course, I was leavening without my bag.” I pointed to my bag.
“Can you please whistle or tweet like a bird or something other than shouting next time.”
Lane made a funny calling noise like a large bird would make.
“That any good?” he asked.
“It's mildly better,” I said, packing my stuff away. “If you need the bathroom, I suggest you go
now.”
Lane looked around at his choices and walked behind a nearby tree. I did the same and met him
back by the burned out fire.
I wedged my weapon under the straps of my messenger bag.
“You any good at climbing?” I asked, pulling myself up onto a low branch.
“Only out of windows, remember?” Lane said, leaving his shovel beside the tree and climbing up
behind me.
I was glad he couldn't see the stupid grin on my face. I climbed until I reached a branch which had
an identical branch on the other side, and lifted myself up.
“This looks good, you can take that side.”
“Are you always this demanding in the bedroom?” He grinned looking up at me, before pulling
himself up onto the other branch.
“Are you sure this is high enough?”
“Yes, it's just right.” I said, carefully pulling out the rolled up blanket from my bag.
“You have a blanket?” Lane asked, peering around the tree at me.
“No, it's a napkin. What do you think? And no we're not sharing, there's a tree in the way anyway.”
“Can they climb?”
“No.” I groaned, getting annoyed with all his questions. It was like he had no idea what zombies
could or couldn't do.
I found a branch not too far above my head and hung my bag strap over it.
“How do you sleep and not fall off?”
“Take this,” I said, passing the end of the rope to him. “Wrap it around yourself and hand it back to
me.”
“You tie yourself to the tree?”
“Well, I don't want to fall out of the tree. Do you have a better idea?”
He passed the rope back to me and I pulled it tight.
Lane coughed and grunted. “Alex, can't breathe,”
“Tough luck! I'd rather be uncomfortable all night than fall out and break my leg.”
I tied a strong knot, one that wouldn't slip but I would still be able to undo easily. Lane fidgeted and
tugged on the rope every few minutes.
“Lane, quit it! Every time you do that it pulls against my chest.”
I wrapped my blanket around my legs and pulled my hood over my head, folded my arms across my
chest, making myself semi-comfortable.
The rope finally stopped pulling and I rested my head back against the tree, waiting for nightfall.
“What do we do now?” he asked.
“We sleep,” I replied.
“But it's early. I'm not even tired.”
“Well, I am, I've been walking since 7 am.”
Lane huffed.
“So not tired,” he whined.
“Okay, Lane, what do you want to do? We're up a tree and it's going to be pitch black soon, I don't
think we can play cards right now.”
“Do you think if you rubbed yourself in garbage and blood, and waddled down the street with your
arms up they'd leave you alone?”
“Zombies don't waddle with their arms up. This isn't one of those stupid horror movies, this is
real
life
.”
“Yeah, but did you really think zombies would become real?”
“I don't think anyone did, otherwise, they would have been better prepared for this.”
Lane went quiet and I thought he'd finally given up on pestering me and was trying to go to sleep. I
closed my eyes and tried to think about something other than zombies.
“Alex,” Lane called softly.
I didn't answer hoping he would get the picture.
“How close have you come to getting bitten?... Alex?”
“Pretty close, okay? Now can you please stop talking so I can get some sleep... or am I going to
have to use that duct tape on you?”
“Getting kinky are we? Well, we're halfway there, you've already tied me up.”
“Goodnight, Lane,” I said, closing my eyes again.
Not even a minute had gone by before he started again.
“Alex... Alex, Alex?”
“What?” I snapped.
“Thanks,”
“For what?”
“For letting me tag along.”
“Night, Lane.”
“Night, Alexia.”
I couldn't help the small smile that appeared on my lips. No one ever called my Alexia, not many
people even knew it was my real name.
I settled down, but didn't close my eyes this time and did what I did most nights. I stared into the
darkness until my eyes could no longer stay open. There was nothing comfortable about sleeping in
a tree. To be honest, I only ever got around four hours sleep every night. I was surprised at Lane,
after saying he wasn't tired he was asleep within half an hour, snoring like a pig, and, of course,
every time I drifted off one of his extra loud snores woke me up. It's not like I could kick him to
make him stop as I couldn't even reach him. Maybe been on my own wasn't such a bad thing, with
Lane around I wasn't going to get any sleep. I ended up cushioning my blanket over my head and
around my ears, it helped to drown him out... a little. I would just have to sacrifice staying warm so
I could get some sleep.
A scream filled the air, causing me to jolt upright, only the rope didn't restrain me as it should have.
It was now loose around my waist, and I quickly lost my balance and fell sideways off the branch. I
reached out, desperately trying to grab anything I could, but it was to no avail. I wasn't quick
enough to land safely and instead landed awkwardly on my leg and then fell onto my front. It was
still dark, but the moon was bright, shining through the gaps in the trees.
I rolled over and sat up, wondering what had happened... then I remembered the scream.
“Shit.”
I pushed myself off the ground and managed to stand up, the rope had fallen down with me and was
twisted around my legs. I was still trying to get out of it when something crashed into me.
I landed back on the ground, quickly lifting my head up to see what had knocked me down.
“What the hell, Lane?”
“Run!” he shouted.
“What?”
“There are tons of zombies heading this way.”
“What?” I repeated, trying to stand up again, but my leg wasn't cooperating.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
“Not at current, thanks to you.”
“Alex, we gotta get outta here.”
“No, I can't go anywhere and all my stuff is up the tree.”
Another scream... I turned to Lane and spotted his rucksack on the ground.
“Grab it, quick, and get back up the tree.”
He picked it up and we quickly scrambled up the tree. Lane was right behind me, urging me to
hurry, but my leg was still sore from the tumble. All of a sudden I heard Lane yelling obscenities
behind me, then he dropped to the ground again. I looked over my shoulder to see a zombie had
yanked Lane from the tree and they were now both on the ground.
I had two options, I could either forget about ever meeting Lane Walker and climb back up the
tree... or I could climb back down and help (and possibly get killed in the process).
When I reached the bottom of the tree, Lane was nowhere... and the zombie was gone. The shovel
had disappeared from beside the tree, and when I reached for my gun... it was gone.
I scooped up Lane's rucksack and dug around inside it.
A loud gurgling sound stopped me in my tracks. A tall zombie lurched toward me... and I thought
Lane was tall, this zombie was like,
giant
tall. I started backing away pulling out random items from
Lane's bag and chucking them at the zombie to distract it while I searched for the meat pounder
which appeared to have vanished.
The keys went first, then a comic book, followed by a random piece of clothing, deodorant can,
each time I aimed for the zombie's eyes. Then I got my hands on a corkscrew. I stepped up onto the
log and waited until the zombie was close enough, then I lunged forward, stabbing the corkscrew
into the zombie's eye. It let out an annoyed grunt and I jumped off the log.
The zombie twirled around in a circle and walked backward, and while it was temporarily
distracted, smacking itself in the face, trying to figure out why it couldn't see out of one eye, I had a
chance to locate the meat pounder.
The zombie was still flailing its arms around confused by what had happened, and I took the
moment to run behind it and jam my foot into the back of its knee. I needed it on the ground.
Ramming my foot into the back of a zombie's knee was becoming my signature move, it was the
easiest way I had found of dealing with them, by getting them on the ground and pouncing while
they were down.
It fell forward onto its knees and I gave it a shove in the back with my foot, causing it to fall
forward and onto its face.
I didn't think about what I did next, I never did, I had no choice. I stood over it and started hitting it
in the head as hard as I could. Its arms jerked around and every time it tried to get up I stood on its
back and pushed it back into the ground. It let out a few groans but didn't put up much of a fight.
My hand felt wet with zombie blood, but I didn't stop. Another groaning noise caught my attention.
Zombie number two was heading my way, this one a little faster than the last.
I backed away getting ready to dive under its arm when another figure appeared, running toward
me, but lost its footing and stumbled to the ground beside me.
“Where did you go?” I asked, still backing away.
“I was leading the other one away,” Lane replied, quickly jumping to his feet and hiding behind me.
I sidestepped around the dead zombie hoping my plan would work. The moving zombie tripped
over the dead one and I jumped back not wanting it to touch me, but I bumped into Lane and the
moving zombie clawed its way down my jeans as it fell. I quickly bashed it in the head before it got
back up. Another screaming zombie appeared from the trees and ran straight into the log and
toppled over it.
Damn zombies were retarded, they couldn't even figure out how to step over a tree log.
Lane was still using me as a human shield. I had since changed from pounding the zombie in the
head with the meat pounder to crushing its skull in with my boot. The newbie zombie that was
already back on its feet, screaming and running toward us, had managed to get its feet tangled in the
rope. Lane must have seen it as well because he left my side, running over to the zombie, skidding
across the ground, through dirt and leaves, and pulling the rope with him. The zombie fell face first
onto the ground.
I stopped my skull crushing for a moment to see if the zombie was going to get up again. It didn't
move. Lane was on his feet dragging the newbie zombie over to me.
“Got you a present,” Lane said, walking past me, dragging the zombie closer.
“Remind me to thank you later,” I said, kicking the lively zombie in the face.
“How many did you see before?”
“Tons!”
“How many is tons?”
“Alex, look out!” Lane yelled, pushing me out of the way.
Another zombie had turned up and was in the process of trying to tackle Lane to the ground,
another newbie, it was stronger and faster, and screaming like a school girl. Lane lost his balance
and went down, and I realized I was lying side by side with the other newbie. It noticed me and
tried to claw at me, but I rolled out of reach and got to my feet, kicking it in the face again, while
reaching over it to grab the rope. I ran toward Lane, he was on the ground, holding the hungry
zombie back at arms length. I looped the rope around the zombie's neck and yanked it backward
and off Lane. I dragged it across the ground and stuck my knee into its back and knelt on it, letting
go of the rope and using both hands to whack it in the head with the meat pounder. I glanced over
my shoulder, not forgetting there was another zombie, but Lane had located his shovel and was
smacking it in the head already.
The zombie underneath me stopped squirming and I climbed off it and went over to Lane.
He still hadn't killed the zombie he was dealing with, more like stunned it, every time it moved he
gave it a tap on the head with the shovel.
“Give me that,” I said, snatching it away and plunging it into the zombie's neck, it was harder than
it looked and I ended up jumping on the shovel for the desired effect.
The shovel eventually pushed through to the ground and I kicked its head into the trees.
“I've got fucking zombie brains all over my
Chuck Taylors,
” Lane complained.
I gave him a hard shove and he stumbled backward.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I fell out of the tree. What happened? What were you doing out of the tree?”
“I had to use the bathroom.”
“The bathroom? Are you kidding me, couldn't you have just taken a piss from up there?”
“It wasn't that kind of calling.”
“Huh?”
“I needed a number two.”
“Too much info Lane. So just for the record does
tons
of zombies mean four or five? Or are there
more?”
“No. I think this looks like all of them. I never did get to go to the bathroom, they caught me with
my pants down.”
“Well, I'm not stopping you.”
“I think I'll hold it,” Lane said.
“Ugh! What's the time anyway?” I asked, checking my watch, but it was too dark to see it.
“5.23am.” Lane said, looking up from his digital watch.
I pushed the meat pounder against his chest which he caught and I stalked back over to the tree.
“Are you mad at me?”
I ignored him and pulled myself up, not even bothering to look back to see what he was doing.
I climbed back onto my branch, straddling it. My rope was still wrapped around the zombies. It
could wait until sunrise, anyway, there was no way I was going back to sleep.
I heard him on the other side of the tree, but he didn't try to talk to me.
We sat there for another hour and a bit, and I listened to the early morning birds chirping as the sun
came up.
When I was happy with the amount of sunshine, I grabbed my bag and climbed back down without
speaking to Lane. I picked up my gun, I had spotted it on the ground from up in the tree. I tucked it
safely back into my belt, just as Lane dropped down from the tree.
Then my eyes landed on a toilet paper roll that had rolled behind a tree. “Oh, my...” I walked over
to it, stepping over a dead zombie and picked up the toilet paper.
“Is this mine? Did you go in my bag and steal my toilet paper last night?”
“I didn't have any.” Lane shrugged.
I shook my head. Lane Walker had stolen from me and nearly gotten me killed by zombies.
I had to cut him loose.
He gathered his things that were strewn all over the place and put them back inside his rucksack. I
rolled my blanket back up and detangled my rope from the zombies. When I was done, I caught
Lane looking at me.
“Don't!” I said, adjusting my bag strap across my chest.
“I didn't say anything.” he said, avoiding my gaze and staring at one of the dead zombies.
“You don't have to say anything. You're looking at me like I'm a crazy psycho that just set fire to a
box of kittens. I killed a zombie, Lane, it's what I do, and it's what you're going to have to do if you
want to stay alive. I haven't seen that many zombies in these woods for weeks, yes they're in the
towns they always are, but rarely in the trees, there's nothing for them out here.”
“And?” he said.
“And I run into you and a whole frigging horde of them turns up, and I risked my life saving your
ass.”
I started walking away.
“Alex,” Lane called, jogging to catch up to me.
“Don't talk to me, better yet, start walking in the opposite direction.”
“You don't mean that.” he said, falling into step beside me.
“Yes, I do. I don't want to get killed because you're being an idiot. I mean, who takes a dump in the
middle of the night in possible zombie infested woods?”
“Sorry if my metabolism doesn't agree with your zombie survival program.”
“Lane! I fell out of a tree. I could have seriously injured my leg.”
“But you didn't your leg is fine.”
“What is wrong with you? Can you not see what you did wrong? You didn't even tell me you had
loosened the rope, I had no idea. I could have broken a bone and I would have become a zombie's
breakfast.”
“I think you're blowing this out of the water a little,” Lane said.
“You nearly got me killed, and you just stood there watching, you weren't even participating at the
start.”
“I don't like killing zombies and you were the one with the weapon. I didn't know where the shovel
was so I stayed out of the way.”
“Lane, if you don't have a weapon then you use what you can, like your feet, they're not just for
walking on.”
“I did, I kicked one.”
“You kicked one,” I laughed. “Let me guess you didn't want to get your hi-tops too dirty.”
“Stop being such a bitch.”
“Well, stop being such an idiot and use your brain.”