Winter's Salvation (14 page)

Chapter 8

The change

They left through the back of the house, to avoid the wandering undead and after they crossed through a few yards in this suburb, the houses started to spread out more and more.  After a while they started crossing multiple acres of wooded land before they would get to the next house.  Eric and Rodriquez ran in silence while Drew asked question after question about David.  The only response was from Eric and that was a sharp, “We’ll tell you later!”   

The morning had an unusual chill in the air, but as the sun greeted Eric and Drew with it’s warm touch the chill quickly began to melt away, but for Rod the chill was only getting worse.  He began sweating even though his body was frigid and his right leg felt as if he had a hundred bees stinging him over and over again.  The thought of the infection spreading through his body faster due to his heart beating faster and harder while running, scared him, so he suggested that they slow their pace a little and maybe duck into the next house they came to. 

His leg was throbbing with wave after wave of pain and the sting seemed as if it were traveling through his body.  As they were cutting through one of the properties, a building that took the profile of a barn
took shape on the horizon.  “We’re stopping in that building up there,” Rod snapped.  Eric turned and acknowledged his command, but was very bewildered as to the tone in which it came. 

Rod didn’t realize his request came out the way it sounded un
til he saw the look Eric gave him.  “I’m not feeling well.”  He said, “Sorry about that, I just need to rest for a second.” 

They had
not seen any undead for a while and figured they would play it safe and avoid the house that was beginning to appear behind some trees, but rest at the barn.  The barn was a classic red with wood shingles that looked as if they were in dire need of repair.  One side of the double doors of the barn was open, so Rod stepped forward and pulled the black pistol that he got from David’s back pack.  “Let me go in,” He said in a whisper as they got close to the door.  “Just watch out here and I’ll let you know what I find. 

Eric pulled his rifle off his shoulder
.  Drew held a bat at his side and they both took watch outside the barn.  Rod carried a bat in his left hand and the pistol in his stretched out right.  He walked into the double doors with a mission.  A faint hint of death hung in the overwhelming smell of hay.  “Come on you fuck, come and get some.”  A fury rose up in him that he could not control.  He wanted to hurt something.  He wanted to squeeze the life out of something.  He wanted to feel someone’s skin rip between his fingers, as he tore into their flesh.  He wanted to bite into the flesh of a living creature and feel their blood spurt out through the skin and between each tooth in his mouth.  Rod wanted to kill something.   

The sun shined through the windows on the right side of the barn like wide laser beams, which had fine particles shining through them from the dirt floor and piles of hay.  The barn was broken up into separate stalls with a chain that hung loosely on half of them and a solid wooden door on the other half.  Large old wooden beams held the ceiling up and attached to them and above the stalls was another landing.  Some of the stalls were used to store feed and hay and the landing above them was used to store more hay and other farming equipment that hung over the ledge, like sharp spears. 

Rod walked halfway through the barn kicking up dried powdered dirt, as he stepped through the middle of the barn, adding to the particles in the sun light laser beams, when he heard the sound of rustling on the far side of the building.  “I knew you were in here, show yourself mother fucker.”  He began to feel his body tremor.  His whole body began to shake with anticipation.    

Eric and Drew, both could hear him and looked into the double door.  They watched as a lone figure stumbled out of the far stall.  They were not able to make out any of its features, but with its shaky and clumsy movements, there was no doubt it was a zombie. 

The creature walked forward after bouncing off one of the wooden beams with its right shoulder.  When the undead moved closer, Rod was able to make out that at one time this man was one of the field hands that worked on the farm.  He wore a pair of overalls that hid his muscular lower body and the straps slung over his shoulders hid his mid chest.  This farm hand died quickly, because as he walked closer to Rod and deeper into the sun light, it became apparent that his throat had multiple large chunks missing from it. 

Rod put the pistol in the back of his jeans and switched his bat
to his right hand.  He moved closer for a swing and as soon as the farm hand began to raise its hands Rod let fly with the bat.  The aluminum bat hit the zombie square in the temple making the sound of a squashing grape fruit that was just pitched at a major league ball player. 

The farm hand spun to its right
, falling to his hands and knees and the momentum forced the ghoul to roll on its back.  The undead laid still for a second, just long enough for Rod to observe the damage he had inflicted.  The bat had completely smashed in the left side of it’s face above its mouth.  The site of the damage he created excited him and the only thing that made him upset was that the undead did not feel pain the same way he did.  He wanted this thing to hurt.  He wanted this thing to scream out in agony. 

Rod lifted the aluminum bat above his head and
brought it crashing down on the undead’s face and then did it again, and again and again.  With each hit Rodriquez could feel the bat sink deeper into it’s skull and past the hard bone and into what felt like a wet sponge.  The sound of rustling behind him broke his trance and satisfaction of the feeling of inflicting such destruction.  He turned and saw another body moving toward him.  It was another creature to release his anger out on and excitement filled him sending jolts of energy through his arms forcing him to grip the bat tighter. 

Another
undead laborer that worked on the farm made its way out from one of the stalls.  The now manic Rod ran to this worker and swung cracking it above the left knee.  He did not want to kill this one as fast as he killed the other one.  With the undead’s left leg broken he wanted to find out how many bones he could break before actually having to kill it.  The ghoul was on it’s hands and knees working its way to a standing position and Rod was about to swing on one of its arms to knock it back down when he heard a gurgling sound coming from the undead that he had just smashed its head in.  He turned and was shocked to see it was not dead and was rolling over.  The zombies face looked like a piece of steak that was attached to a neck.  There were absolutely no features on it that would give any indication that at one point this was a living creature until you saw its body.  It rolled over and Rod brought the bat on the back of its skull, dropping it finally for good. 

A question popped into Rod’s head and washed the need to release his frustration.  Dave had always told them to kill the brain, but he had driven the bat, so deep into its head that it would have killed the brain of any living creature.  He thought to himself he needed to hit this one in the back of the head, just for experimental reasons.  His rational thought made him angry.  He was finally releasing his anger and it felt so good to him and this thought snapped him out of it.  Rodriquez turned to the undead that just fell again because it tried to put pressure on its broken leg.  The back of its head now faced Rod as if it were bowing down to him.  He
swung straight down on the back of its head and it dropped face first into the dry dirt. 

Rod felt the sun light hit him in the back as he heard the groan of another zombie enter the barn from the opposite double doors.  It swung one of the doors wide enough to get its body through and was making its way into the barn and straight for Rod.  This one was faster and moved with an excited purpose.   

He was now angrier than before because he could no longer let go of his emotion and had to try his theory again.  He walked to the double doors to meet the uninvited guest. 

Eric signaled for Drew to follow him after he saw the other zombie come through the northern door.  They ran around the western side of the barn, so the sun would not shine in their eyes.  Making their way to the northern end of the barn they saw what had to be about twenty undead stumbling toward them just a few feet from the double doors.  Some were beginning to stand after kneeling on something that looked to be a cow.  As they stood they could see the animal was still alive and with the zombies moving away from it they could hear it cry out in pain. 

After stepping around the corner Eric and Drew immediately ducked back behind the barn.  All, but two of the ghouls turn their attention to them, the other two were already half way through the door after Rod.  “Go back to the bags!” Eric hollered to Drew and started to run.  They ran back to the south side of the barn, shaded by the sun, just as the first set of undead made it around the building. 

Eric pulled the lever down on the .22 and chambered the first round while he was running.  Lifting the rifle to his shoulder he looked down the iron sites.  He thought back and replayed Dave’s instructions in his head, as if he were their coaching him through his first shot. 
Take it easy.  There is no point in pulling that trigger if you’re not going to hit it. I set this up so you can see where your shot hits.  Look through the V of your closest sight and focus the green dot between the V. 

He breathed slowly and focused on bringing the green dot in the middle of the top sight. 
Now place that green dot directly under the middle of the zombie’s eyes. 
The undead was moving slow and not wavering side to side too much and he focused the green dot just above the bridge of the undead’s nose. 
Now FIRE. 
He squeezed the trigger and a small dot appeared directly between the eyes of the undead.  It completed the step it was taking and then fell face first to the ground.  He pulled the lever down chambering another round and focused on the next zombie in line. 

Multiple shots rang out, every shot hitting its mark dropping another ghoul.  The screaming from inside the barn got louder with each zombie that entered the double doors.  They never wondered about the screaming because they knew it was Rod screaming, as if he were conducting a strange march to his own deadly swings. 

After Eric’s tenth shot and tenth slain zombie, he lined his sights on the next in line and pulled the trigger.  Fear shocked his body as he stood motionless as this zombie did not fall, but continued to move forward.  The absence of the small kick of the rifle and no loud explosion of the bullet shocked him.  The rifle was empty. 

The five remaining worked past its fallen companions and reached out for Eric and Drew.  Eric backed up and reached out to ensure that Drew was moving backwards.  As he stepped backward and was about to turn to find Drew he saw one of the zombies in the back get spun around and black blood showered the undead in the front of it.   

After Rod had destroyed his, now, welcomed visitors he walked out of the north doors of the barn just in time to see five turn the corner where Eric was shooting.  After giving it a second to ensure Eric was finished firing he greeted the last one to turn the corner with a swift swing of his bat.   The next closest zombie turned to Rod and was greeted in the same fashion Rods last victim was acknowledged with a solid blow to the face, but knowing this was not a killing blow it was immediately followed with a hard swing downward to finish the creature.  The last three were finished in the same manner with each one either suffering one or two hits to the head. 

Blood was splashed across Rod’s body as if someone randomly drew black, brown and crimson red paint strokes across him, with speckled blood spots that littered his face.  He breathed heavily standing over the pile of undead and his small statured body now looked ten feet tall.  

“How you doin?” Eric spoke with a slight playful cue in his voice to hide the concern he had for his friend.  He just witnessed what he considered to be his long time friend just go through an extreme manic episode and was not sure what he was going to do next. 

Dropping the bat and running his bloody fingers through his blood caked hair, he snapped out of his daze and turned to Eric.  “Who’s Puerto Rican now?  I need a cigarette.”

“You are definitely Puerto Rican, and you and I both need a smoke.” Now knowing his friend was back, “We drew too much attention here, I say lets make our way up to the house,” he pointed to the large house on the horizon, “and see if we can find some decent food and a place where you can get cleaned up.” 

Rod picked up the bat and turned to retrieve the gear they had dropped, as the mauled cow called for someone to put it out of it’s misery.  Pulling his pistol Rod stepped up and silenced it.    

**********

They walked up a set of old painted stairs that the blue paint was beginning to peel off that led to a rotting wood deck that matched the stairs.  As they traveled across the creaking deck the sound of swarming flies grew louder the closer they got to the
door.  The front door of the house was swung open like the doors on the barn.  Rod was the first to enter the house and stopped suddenly as he saw the half eaten remains of what he guessed was the owner of the property.  A pool of blood had dried into the light blue carpet right in front of Rod’s shoes that had poured from a set of legs still in their blue jean overall bibs.