And sure, enough stuck up in a tree was one of the undead, tangled in its branches with not enough brain power to work out how to get down. What was left of its clothing looked a lot like my military gear and selfishly I hoped that I it wasn’t someone I knew.
“Hey” Jack’s voice startled me and caused me to jump. I turned to look at him just as the main branch holding the zombie snapped causing it to fall. The body landed with a hard thud and I could have sworn that I heard the crack of ribs breaking, maybe and arm too. But it wasted no time in pulling itself towards me, trying to get a taste.
Jacks walked up behind it, and held his knife above its head. It didn’t even notice because it was so focused on me. He knelt and thrust his knife through the temple, he made it look a lot easier than I had done it earlier that day. There was no shout of alarm, or squeal of pain, just a sort of angry grunt that it had been stopped from its final meal. Just for a second or so as the knife sliced through its skin and into its brain, or what was left of it anyway.
I closed my eyes and remembered back to the beginning, well a few months in, when that’s all we had left was radio. They encouraged us to stay indoors, lock all doors and windows and stay out of sight. But if we were attacked then we were to attack the head and try to destroy the brain.
Kelly and I had discussed it one evening, over candlelight when the kids had gone to sleep. We had both agreed that shooting someone in the head or worse, having to stab or beat them to death in the head was something that neither of us could see ourselves doing. How that had changed. Now if it needed doing I could do it, I never took enjoyment out of it but if it was down to them or myself and my friends then the zombies would lose with their heads destroyed each and every time.
I closed my burning eyes, breathing through my mouth, trying hard not to smell, the acrid burning of flesh. I could hear the crackle as the fire made its way through the dry grass and trees.
“George, I’m sorry for your loss” I opened my eyes and met with Jacks’ looking sorrowful.
He held out a pair of dog tags and then knelt to the floor to go through the pockets of the now still body.
I turned over the tags in my hand, B.S was crudely scratched in. Billy Sanders.
My heart was in my stomach, we were too late. How in the hell was I going to tell Nia that I wasn’t good enough to save her friend? Jacks handed me another set of tags. These had been engraved with the Captain’s initials and were a lot more worn than Billy’s had been.
“Found them in the breast pocket of Billy’s shirt.”
“I guess that’s our answer” I voiced out loud, my voice breaking. I had honestly thought that we would have found them alive and well and ready to come home.
“Yeah” Jacks had fallen onto his backside in the grass, his eyes were wide and glassy. The captain had been his friend also.
“I’m sorry” I clapped him on the shoulder.
I could see Lewis and John running towards us with weapons in hand. Ben just behind them carrying his doctors bag.
“We better go” I nodded towards our friends. Jacks followed my gaze and nodded getting up slowly.
They stopped when they saw the looks on our faces.
“Billy?” Lewis asked.
I shook my head.
“None of the others survived, sorry” Ben told us.
“Your other men went back to the car when we came running to try to call for backup” Lewis told Jacks.
The five of us carried on walking back towards our cars, each lost in thoughts and grieving for our lost ones.
The little boy had stayed with the other army men, and ran to Lewis as soon as he saw him. Hugging him tightly, burying his head in Lewis’ chest.
Jacks went to let the other men know our situation whilst John and Lewis got our new little friend Cory, comfortable in the back of the car. Ben didn’t say another word he just got into the back of his truck.
Followed by the soldiers, Jacks came walking back to us, head high. “Let’s go home gentlemen. I have a base to look after now.” His voice was sombre.
We all nodded, he got in on one side of the child and I got in the other; no car seats anymore. John and Lewis took the front seats, holding each other’s hand as we pulled away.
John did a three-point turn and started to follow the other truck. He drove for as long as he could without putting the lights on. When it was too dark to see, we pulled over and took it in turns to keep a lookout. Cory, slept throughout the night, I placed my black fleece jacket over him. The poor boy must have been exhausted, god only knows what he had been through. Lewis said that his family had been in the camp when they were over run and Cory’s father had begged Lewis to take Cory to safety whilst he and his wife stayed to fight. That was the last they had seen of
