ROLL CALL
Alive:
Carson
Ryder: Former marine/Former police officer/Suffers from retrograde amnesia/ Searching
for clues to his past
Damien
Albright: Found and saved Carson/Has no family or friends outside of the group/Doesn’t
seem to have a care in the world
Kenny
Sudrow: Former spa porter/Happy to be doing something else
Chuckie
Razzano: His only concerns are his Rolex and his hair gel
Chase
Crawford: Religious zealot/Loner/Keeps to himself
Willard
Pickman: Scientist/Worked for the CDC/Knows of a cure
Eli
Burton: An enigma
Vern
Sheldon: New associate/Drives a box truck/Carries a badass flamethrower
Terry
Watts: Proprietor of the Starlight Hotel
Deceased:
Arnold
Vesti: Biters got him
Regis
Whitfield: Biters got him
Devin
Morris: Strangled in his sleep
Darren
Mays: Shot by Damien Albright/Claimed that Carson arrested him at one point
Trevor
Virden: Biters got him
Brent
Blaze: Vern Sheldon shot him after he got bit
Ally
Burton: Attacked by a lone Biter
Janice
Whitfield: Committed suicide
IN THE FLESH
By Daniel Skye
PART TEN
SCAVENGER HUNT
Day One Hundred and Forty.
Eli Burton was a natural. He and Carson had
used several wandering Biters for target practice, and Eli didn’t miss a single
shot.
“What do you think of this guy, Terry?”
Carson asked as Eli loaded a fresh magazine into his semi-automatic handgun.
“He’s skinny as a rail,” Eli replied. “I
don’t think we have to worry about him feeding us human flesh anytime soon,
that’s for sure. He’s not a threat like Dennis Pinkle, that’s also for sure. I
think he’s just a lonely guy who wanted some company.”
“But why won’t he let us on the second
floor? I mean, it’s not like there’s limited space. There are plenty of rooms
to go around.”
“Yeah, but it’s not all bad. We have
the entire first floor to ourselves. He doesn’t bother us much. He gives us our
space. And maybe that’s all he wants too. Space. I’m sure once he gets to know
us better, he’ll invite us upstairs.”
“Time will tell,” Carson said,
reloading his shotgun.
It had been several days since they
took up residence at the Starlight Hotel, several days since the heartbreaking
discovery of Janice Whitfield’s body.
No knew for sure why Janice decided
to take her own life, but the group all had their own ideas.
Terry Watts had expressed his
sympathies and allowed the group to hold a proper burial on the grounds. He
even showed his respect and took hand in the proceedings, helping carry the
makeshift coffin that Vern had constructed with supplies and spare wood from
his truck.
Vern, Willard, and Kenny all said a
few words. Then the otherwise laconic Chase Crawford said his share.
“I know I don’t say much,” Chase
admitted. “I usually keep to myself. But I had a soft spot in my heart for
Janice. Every day and every night I said a prayer for her and her unborn child.
I say a prayer for each and every one of you. I do it because, well, you’re all
that I have. This group was all that Janice had, too. And now she’s gone, and
I’ll miss her.”
Chase poured the first shovel of
dirt over the casket and the rest of the group took their turn.
They had no choice but to look
beyond this tragedy. Their survival depended on it. So they grieved for an
appropriate stretch of time, and then things rolled on.
Carson and Eli were standing just
outside of the floral carpeted vestibule when Damien approached. “Gasoline is
scarce,” Damien informed them. “I reckon we’ve got enough fuel to make it out
to Arkansas. After that, we’ll be dead in our tracks. And the canned goods and
preservatives we have are only going to last through the winter. We’re going to
need more supplies.”
“So what do you propose?” Carson
asked.
“I say we go on a little scavenger
hunt. Comb the area, see what we can find. There’s got to be something that
someone left behind.”
“I’ll come with you,” Eli
volunteered.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Damien
said. “You’re a good shooter, but you’re still green. You could get us killed
out there. You take that new gun of yours and watch over the hotel. Kenny will
come with us.”
A stricken Eli watched from the vestibule
as Damien and Carson set out with Kenny in search of supplies. He was alone
when Chase Crawford approached.
“I know what you are,” Chase said
with disdain.
“A handsome young man?” Eli replied.
“You’re the kind of man that was
willing to let his sister get devoured by that monster, Dennis Pinkle. You’re
the kind of man who’s not even sorry she’s dead. I watched you during Ally’s
burial, just like I watched you at Janice’s. You didn’t shed a tear at either. You
didn’t even sigh when we buried your own sister. You’re a demon.”
“I think you forgot to take your
meds, grandpa,” Eli said. “I’m no demon. No hell-spawn. I’m flesh and blood,
just like you. But if I am as bad as you think I am, why come to me? Why not
warn the others?”
“The others don’t listen to me,”
Chase said. “They just write me off as some religious nutcase.”
“Exactly,” Eli said. “And that’s why
I’m going to let you live…for now.” Eli gave him a rough pat on the shoulder
and left him trembling in the vestibule. He was alone now, and it reminded
Chase that his isolation could be his downfall. If he didn’t learn to open up
and trust the others, there was no way to convince them what they were truly up
against.
Chase was the only member of the
group familiar with the Black Lodgers, so he was the only one who recognized
their insignia tattooed to Eli’s shoulder. It was a tattoo of the planet Earth,
with skull and crossbones painted over it.
* * *
“Who do you think is still out
there?” Damien inquired as they walked through the desolate town. “Movie stars,
football players, pro wrestlers, musicians. You think any of them are tough
enough to survive a zombie apocalypse?”
“We’ve survived,” Carson said. “I’m
sure plenty of others have as well.”
“If any football player could
survive this, it would have to be Tim Tebow,” Kenny said. “Nobody has his heart
or determination.”
“Oh, please. If Tebow is still alive
right now, he’s probably on his knees, Tebowing for his life,” Damien said,
laughing at the mental image that conjured up. “Reggie Bush,” he added. “Now
that man could survive a zombie apocalypse.”
“My ass,” Kenny said. “Even Aaron
Hernandez has a better shot of outlasting Reggie Bush in this world.”
“I wish I could join in the argument,”
Carson said. “But I just don’t remember enough about the old world.”
“Schwarzenegger,” Kenny said. “I bet
he’s still out there, bashing zombie’s heads in.”
“I can’t argue with that one,”
Damien said.
“I remember that name,” Carson said.
“Arnold Schwarzenegger. Didn’t he play a robot?”
“Cyborg,” Kenny corrected him. “It
was a film called The Terminator.”
“It sounds familiar,” Carson said. “Say,
do either of you guys have a cigarette?”
Kenny and Damien shook their heads
no. Carson had been craving a smoke since he finished his last pack. He was
hoping they find something in the pharmacy, but the place had already been
raided, stripped clean. They did find one medical supply kit that had been
forgotten about on the bottom shelf of one aisle. They also found a bottle of
rubbing alcohol in the same aisle, which they also snatched up.
The next shop they hit was the
liquor store. Most of the booze had already been ransacked, but Damien managed
to scrounge up a bottle of bourbon and a bottle of scotch. They also checked
the supermarket, but the shelves were barren. In the back of the market, Kenny
found a sealed box of protein bars they took with them.
“What do you guys miss more than anything?”
Kenny asked.
“Right now, I’d kill for some red
meat,” Damien said. “A cheeseburger would really hit the spot.”
“I second that,” Kenny said. “Or I’d
take a nice, juicy steak. Hell, I’d take both if I could have them.”
“Now steak is something I remember,”
Carson said. “And I could definitely go for one of those right now.”
“While were reminiscing, I also miss
music,” Damien said. “And women. God, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had
sex.”
“I hardly got laid before the
apocalypse so it’s all the same to me,” Kenny said.
“You know what I miss?” Carson said.
“Running water. I’d love a shower for a change instead of scrubbing myself with
a wet rag.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Kenny
said.
They came upon an underground
parking structure and pondered going down. Damien was lugging two empty
gasoline cans so they could refuel.
“I don’t know,” Carson said. “The
spot could be a haven for Biters.”
“It could be,” Damien said. “But we
might have to take that risk if we’re going to make it to Texas.”
“If there are too many, we just
bail,” Kenny said.
“Agreed,” Damien said. Carson nodded
his head in agreement and they all went down.
No Biters in sight. But there were
several abandoned vehicles to choose from. As Damien began to siphon gas from
the first automobile, Kenny and Carson kept watch with their weapons.
Kenny heard the unmistakable groan
of a Biter and glanced in every direction. He didn’t see a thing, but Carson
had heard it as well.
From under a black van, a Biter that’s
legs had been maimed, was crawling its way towards them. Kenny spotted it, and
thinking on his feet, he fired a single shot. He hit the target, but the shot
echoed through the parking structure and almost deafened them.
The blast of the semi-automatic was
enough to attract the attention of a pack of wandering Biters, who came
staggering down the ramp.
“Better hurry up.” Kenny shouted to
Damien. “I count at least two dozen.”
“Do we have enough ammo?” Carson
asked.
“Depends on how many there turns out
to be,” Damien said.
Carson eyes desperately searched for
an emergency exit, but found nothing beyond the grey walls of the parking
structure. The Biters had them cornered…
To
Be Continued With Part Eleven: LIVE BAIT
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