several of them, we practiced with our knives, perfecting the best way to kill them with a knife. Charlie liked the temple entry, while I was a proponent of the top of the head thrust. We argued the point until Sarah told the two of us to shut up.
We reached the last house on the street, and went through our routine of checking the windows. I noticed a lot of furniture had been moved around, and the kitchen looked like there had been a fight of some sort. I could see a blood trail leading out of the kitchen. Something had happened here, and recently. I signaled to Sarah and she tried the door. Thankfully it was unlocked, and the three of us slid silently into the house. Immediately it was obvious there was trouble here, and we spread out to check the downstairs.
Finding nothing, we met back at the stairs. Sarah and Charlie shook their heads at me and I returned the favor. It was in that moment I heard a long scratching sound, and I glanced upstairs. Charlie heard the same thing and put away his tomahawks, drawing his Glock and holding it ready. Sarah placed her bar against the doorframe and pulled her gun as well. I looked down at the blood trail that led out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Whatever was making the scratching noise was upstairs.
I drew my SIG and slowly went upstairs, Charlie watching my back and aiming at the top of the stairs. My flashlight illuminated the darkened hallway and as I stepped higher I could see two forms in the hallway. One was the body of a man who was clearly dead and the source of the blood trail. He had been torn up pretty badly, and I could see blood splatter on the walls and red handprints where a struggle had taken place. The man had fought to get to the door at the end of the hallway, and died trying to protect what was in it. The zombie on top of him, his wife, I guessed, was slowly scratching at the door with both hands, her fingers worn to the bone. Her clothing was covered in blood and gore, and when I hit her with the light, she slowly turned her dead head towards me. I could see stringy bits of meat hanging from her bloody mouth, and dried blood covered her face. She had so thoroughly torn apart her husband that he had no chance to come back as a zombie. She slowly rose to her feet and took slow, painful steps towards me. Her thin arms raised and her lips curled back as she moved closer towards the light that illuminated her.
I didn’t waste time, I simply shot her in the head and dropped her next to her husband, the shot sounding unnaturally loud in the small hallway. I moved towards the door and stepped around the mess in the hall. I leaned against the door and listened carefully. I didn’t hear anything, so I tried the door and found it open. I pushed it in and found myself in a nursery. Oh, shit. I thought. Not again. I looked around and saw that the nursery was for a little girl, based on the pink animals and yellow duck stenciling on the walls. I approached the crib, expecting the worst. There was a small form curled up in the corner of the crib, and I couldn’t tell if she was dead, zombified, or other.
My heart was full of dread as I reached in and carefully turned her over. Her face was angelic as her head turned towards me. Her eyes were closed and she was dressed in one of those fleece sleeper blankets, and I guessed she was approximately three or four months old. I sighed and brought up my SIG, wondering again why God punished the little ones. I lined up her small head and stopped. For some reason, I couldn’t pull the trigger. Charlie came up to the door and saw me pointing my gun at the crib.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, holstering his Glock.
“Something doesn’t seem right.” I said, lowering my weapon.
“What do you mean?” Charlie stepped over the corpses and entered the room.
“Why was that mother trying to get in here?” I asked. “The Z’s don’t stick around after something is dead. They prefer live…Holy shit!” I exclaimed, staring at the crib.
“What?” Charlie hurried over.
I waved him back and stared at the little girl. Sure enough, I could see her little chest rise and fall as she breathed. My exclamation had caused her to open her eyes, allowing me to see her clear baby blues before she closed them again.
“Shit, she’s alive!” I yelled, grabbing a blanket in the crib and gently lifting the baby out and wrapping her up against the cold. “Grab whatever supplies you can find in here and meet me outside. Sarah!” I yelled as I hurried down the hall and headed for the stairs.
“What?” came the reply form the kitchen area
“Grab all the baby supplies you can and get to the car right now and fire it up! Get the heater going full blast!” I hollered as I fairly jumped down the stairs.
Sarah, bless her, didn’t hesitate and I could hear cans and things being dumped into a garbage bag. I made it outside with Charlie and Sarah right on my heels.
“Dear God, is that a live baby?” Sarah asked as she hurried past and jumped into the car, firing it up and cranking the heater.
“I don’t know how alive she is, but we’re going to give her as much of a chance as we can. Her father died for her, so we owe him at least the attempt to save her.” I filled her in on what we had found upstairs and the zombie clawing at the door. Sarah shuddered and gunned the engine.
Charlie was strangely quiet as he sat in the back seat with me and stared at the little bundle in my arms. I paid little attention to him as I grabbed the small radio we kept in the car.
“Tommy or Duncan, you read me? Over.” No response
“Tommy or Duncan, you read me? Over.” I was starting to get impatient.
On the fourth try, Tommy’s voice crackled over the small radio. “John, that you? What’s up? Over.”
“Tommy…get on the big radio to Nate and have him get the doc on the horn. I don’t give a damn what she might be doing, he needs to get her to the radio pronto. Over”
“Will do. What’s going on?” Tommy wanted to know so he could tell Nate.
“We found a baby in one of the houses.” I responded. “She looks to be dehydrated and probably hypothermic. I don’t feel any fever but it’s possible.”
“Holy crap. I’m on it. Out.” Tommy signed off and I looked at Sarah and Charlie. Please, I thought. Let us win this one.
Charlie remained silent but his eyes were locked on the little girl. I idly wondered if he was thinking about his own daughter and was reliving that loss.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it as Sarah careened into our parking lot. The tires squealed as she pulled to a stop. I was out of the car before it had stopped moving and rushing up the stairs. Charlie was right on my heels. I ran to Charlie’s condo, which happened to be the closest one and brought the little bundle near the small fire that was going in the fireplace. The motion and warmth of the blanket and fire had stimulated the little girl and she started to open her eyes and began to give little rasping cries.
I motioned to Charlie. “Stay with her. I’ll be right back.” I ran to my condo and waved to Jason and Lisa, who were watching Jacob play on the floor. I briefly wondered at this as I had left Jacob with Kristen, but I didn’t have time to question it. I grabbed a baby bottle and dumped some water and formula in it, then ran back to Charlie’s place. As an afterthought I grabbed the tube of baby bottom cream from Jacob’s bag.
Sarah was coming up the stairs with the baby supplies, and joined me with Charlie. She dumped the contents of the bags out on the floor and found some diapers and wipes. She quickly changed the baby and put some diaper rash cream on a very sore looking bottom. Sarah kept the baby in her little nightgown and picked her up gently. I gave her the bottle and she gave the baby a little sip. The tiny mouth immediately sucked down an ounce, but Sarah was smart enough not to give her too much at once. We were giving her a binky when Tommy came in the door with the radio.
“Doc’s on the line.” was all he said. His eyes got big when he saw the child, but he said nothing more.
“Doc?” I asked holding up the radio so we all could hear.
“I’m here, John. Nate told me you found a baby?”
“That’s right. She looks to be about four months old, possible dehydrated, maybe a little hypothermic.” I described as best I could.
“How’s her color?” Doc wanted to know.
“Pretty good, actually. We’ve been warming her up, and Sarah is giving her sips of formula. Nothing dramatic until she gets used to it.”
“Sounds like you have things in order. Make sure she takes warm water as well, and call me back when you have two wet diapers. If she doesn’t produce a wet diaper in the next 12 hours, increase the amount of fluid. Call me immediately if she develops a fever.” Doc didn’t sound too concerned, so I took that as a good sign.
“Will do. Talk to you later, Doc. Out.” I clicked off the radio and looked at the group. Sarah was giving the
