town rumor

“I, I, I,” stammered Mary-Anne. She looked like a proverbial deer in the headlights.

Katrina’s fear morphed into rage. “I asked you, what the HELL are you doing?” Chris remained halfway up the stairs. Katrina’s anger was so unstable, he didn’t want to get in the way.

Mary-anne straightened and brushed her jeans off. “Well, I saw someone sneaking in the gate and well, I’m just glad it’s you and not some burglar.”

Katrina straightened her hunched back and uncurled her fists enough to seem about as less hostile as a dog ready to playfully beat a rabbit to death. “Why didn’t you try the front door?”

“well, I did. It’s locked.”

Chris started down the stairs, “uh, sorry, that was my fault. Habit I suppose.”

Katrina looked at him, processing some information. She turned back to Mary-anne, “Why did you have to break the window?”

“Sorry, I’ll replace it. I just, “ she looked at Chris and back to Katrina. “I have something that I guess you should know. In private.”

“Well, if it has anything to do with the infection, Chris can know too. He is writing that article after all.”

“Right.” She walked towards the sofa behind chairs and sat, curled into the corner as if that was her normal spot. Katrina followed her and sat in her mother’s chair leaning over the arm to the sofa. Chris stood guard behind the couch. “well, ever since we got back there’s been things going on.”

“What kind of things?” Chris heard himself ask.

Mary-anne glanced at him and continued talking to Katrina. “People are going missing. And not being found.”

“Who?” Katrina asked.

“Well, the butcher’s son. He goes hunting in the woods. He went hunting a couple days ago. Well, you can’t really call it hunting. He goes shooting.” Mary-anne chuckled at herself. “They searched for him, but found nothing.”

“What’s his name?” Chris asked, remembering the young man he saw in the woods, licking the tree.”

“Foster Briant.” Katrina answered. Chris was relieved: Not the same guy.

“So, anyways, they’re still looking for him. But another person has gone missing. I don’t know their name, but it’s some guy who was last seen last night at the bar.” Katrina and Chris cringed at the thought. “There’s more people missing, but no one will give details. The rumor going around is that the infection is getting stronger now that we’re back.”

“That’s absurd, “ Katrina scoffed. “We’ve been treated. We still treat ourselves everyday.”

Mary-anne rolled her eyes, “yeah. I know.”

“So what does this have to do with you breaking and entering into my house?”

“Well, I afraid that one of the two of you was going to murder the other.”

“And you were going to what, apprehend them by yourself?” Chris asked.

“mary-anne glared at him. “No, that’s what the brick was for. Dual purpose.”

Katrina stood up and walked through a door. A couple seconds later she came back with a broom and dust pan. “well, there’s nothing we can do but clean up and get this window covered with plastic until I can get it fixed.”

Mary-anne jumped up and headed towards the door, “well, I’m glad that it’s just you guys and I didn’t have to kick any asses today. I’ll see you later, gotta meet Mary-jo.”

Katrina rolled her eyes and started brushing up the glass. Chris walked over to help. “Where can I find a tarp or plastic bag or something?”

Ending Chapter 9: in the forest Cont...

....It only ate until it was full.”

“What does that mean?” Chris asked.

“That they’re changing kid. They’re evolving to something smarter. It stopped when it was full.” Jerrid repeated.

Gregory and Jerrid chuckled.

“Well, we can take care of this later, let me take you to the other one. It’s more… normal.” Gregory started towards the car.

Chris quickly leaned in to snap a picture of the empty ribcage as his camera was focusing, that’s when he noticed a spotty, half-circle imprint on the bottom of the ribcage. A human bite mark, he thought. He snapped a picture of that just as Jerrid was calling after him.

When they got back into the cramped quarters of the truck, Chris mentioned the teeth marks and Jerrid explained to him that that’s normal; they’ve seen that a lot when the infected gets carried away while feeding.

They made it back out to the main path that Chris was familiar with and Gregory continued up towards the farm. He took a right through the trees again. Chris assumed they had already passed the farm at this point. Gregory drove the truck as smoothly as he could while dodging trees and bouncing over broken tree-limbs. Chris couldn't help but contemplate how often the truck’s suspension had to be tuned.

“We’re just about there, it’s just over—“

“Stop.” Jerrid yelled.

Gregory hit the brakes and the truck slid through some of the underbrush. Chris was thankful he had his lap belt on.

“What the hell?” Gregory put the truck in park and glared at jerrid.

Jerrid pointed to the trees in the distance. Chris followed his finger but couldn’t see anything. He skimmed the trees with his eyes, looking for another animal corpse. Then he saw it.

About thirty feet away, there was a man in his late twenties. He had long, dark, dirty hair; his jeans were worn out like an old potato sack and his navy t-shirt was barely being held together by the threads. He was standing, but his whole body--including his face were rested against the tree. Chris couldn’t tell if his eyes were closed or just heavy. His tongue was hanging out the side of his face, lapping something off the bark at the pace of a small child eating an ice cream cone. His hand was pressed against the tree at stomach height to keep him steady.

“Well, that’s new.” Jerrid commented.

Gregory grabbed the binoculars hanging from a hook behind him.

Chris knew that in any other city in the US, this would probably be just some kid high on methamphetamines, come to the forest to ‘connect with nature’. Here in Forest Hills, it was the infection coursing through his veins.

“He’s licking blood off the tree,” Gregory concluded. “That’s where the wolf is.

”Was,” Jerrid added.

“What?” Gregory asked

“Well, if this guy is licking the blood off a tree, he’s probably finished off the wolf.”

Chris found his voice: “How did blood get on the tree?”

“Could have been anything. He could have been violent with the animal, which got the blood there, or it could be his own.”

“What do we do?” Chris asked. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as nervous as he thought he would be around an infected. He assumed it was because he was in a truck with two rifles and two large men who knew how to use them.

“Just wait a minute.”

Jerrid slowly pulled his rifle up from between his legs. He had to swing it over Chris’ leg briefly to get it above the dash. Chris flinched a little. He rolled down the window and maneuvered the barrel of the truck and rested it on the side mirror. Just as he was taking aim, the infected jerked his body towards them, sniffing the air. He was alert and aware of their presence.

“Quick,” Gregory shouted from behind the binoculars “He smelled us when you rolled down the window.”

“I got it. I got it.” Jerrid yelled.

The infected started bounding towards them in large lengths and Chris was becoming more nervous with each leap until he was shaken by a thunderous bang and the infected didn’t get back up again.

“See kid, that’s how you do it.” Jerrid said proudly. He brought the gun back inside; Gregory put the truck in drive and continued on through the trees until they got to the newly deceased.

Once again they were out of the truck gaping at something dead on the ground. The infected’s head was mostly missing and only held together by the flesh on his left temple. like a dog, it’s tongue was hanging out of what was left of his face. Chris took out his camera and tried to take picture of anything but its missing face. He took pictures of the fingernails that hand been bent back; partially ripped off, along with shots of the skin that was so deteriorated and diseased; it looked like it was melting off of hiss hands and arms. While Jerrid and Gregory were talking about what to do with the body, Chris took some more pictures of the infected’s bare feet. They were cut up from running around in the forest. He remembered Katrina saying something about their amazing tolerance for pain.

“What do you normally do with the bodies?” Chris asked.

“Burn them, but that was when we had more than two per week.” Gregory leaned down by the dead man. “Look at this: his wallet.” He reached in his front pocket to pull it out and opened it up revealing a Kentucky driver’s license. “He’s from Winchester.”

“Where’s that?” Chris asked.

“Up by Lexington.”

“What’s he doing all the way over here?” Jerrid leaned down to join Gregory. Chris snapped pictures of Gregory holding the open wallet, with the ID showing through a plastic screen.

“That’s a good question, my friend. And how did he get down here?”

“Well, keep the wallet, but we gotta start looking for some dry brush to cover him with,” Jerrid got up and started looking around. “Is there any bus tickets or anything in it?”

“No, just forty bucks.” Gregory got to his feet and tucked the money into his front pocket. “Come on kid, start searching.”

End of Chapter 8: Up on the roof

.......“And you give me shit about not wanting to come back here.” Jerrid yelled from his horizontal position a few feet away.

“We have to go there.” Chris encouraged.

“I suppose you’re right.” Katrina felt strong in that moment, knowing Chris would come with her and knew she would finally be able to enter her home again. Mama had offered to come with her before, but there was something about having a frail old later that didn't make her feel quite as secure as having a six-foot-two man with her. She smiled sincerely at Chris and looked over at Jerrid, who was trying to drink his beer while lying on his back.

They walked over and sat next to him. Chris leaned back, propped up on his elbows enjoying the clear view of the stars; they were spectacular dots of light in the dark sky with no city lights or smog to interfere with their brightness; Chris could clearly make out the constellations and even see what he imagined was part of the milky way.

Jerrid’s cell phone rang and he fumbled for it in his pant pocket, knocking over his beer in the process. “Shit. Hello?”

Katrina watched Jerrid intently and Chris watched them both curiously.

“Clint, Hi. Okay so you got her secured in the basement? Is she talking yet?” Jerrid nodded to himself “Okay, just keep her there overnight; we’ll come in the morning." He paused to let out a deep, meaningful exhale. "Well, If you’re not going to tie her up, Make sure she can’t get out.” With no goodbye he hung up the phone.

“Are you guys holding someone hostage or something?” Chris asked, very serious.

“Technically,” Katrina replied. Chris locked his eyes on her. “Well, what did he say?” She asked Jerrid.

“He’s got her back in the basement but he couldn’t ger her restrained; she kept trying to bite him. Apparently she hasn’t said anything yet but she’s… hungry. He said she’s moving normally but not fully there—mentally-- Yet.”

“So it’s working.”

“I guess so. You’ll have to try and give her another dose tomorrow and see if that will bring her back even more.”

Chris slid his bum into the circle more, “Does somebody here want to tell me what the hell is going on? Please.”

Katrina glanced over at him as if she forgot he was there. “It’s Emily.”

“Emily? I thought she wasn’t around anymore.”

“What made you think that?”

“Well you said—“ Chris thought about it, and realized Katrina never did mention her death. “She’s alive and she’s infected still?”

“Yes. I brought back some of the medication they were giving me and testing on others in Colorado. I wanted to see if they would work on her.”

“You mean you stole and smuggled some medication.” Jerrid added.

Katrina didn’t acknowledge the last accusation; “I figured if she stayed alive this long, maybe she can be helped; treated and cured. I didn’t want you to come with me to Clint’s today, because I was giving her the first dose. One or two more and she should be good--from what it sounds like.” Katrina was very happy with the possibility and it showed on her face.

Chris didn’t feel the same way, “Uh, Good?”

“Yeah, she can be like me.”

“Okay, so didn’t you think that this would have been helpful information to me? You have a weapon of possible mass-destruction hidden in your uncle’s basement, which you just happen to be holding captive.” Chris stood up to walk this new information off. “Oh, I wish my head would stop spinning,” He sat back down. “Wait, what happens if she gets out and she’s still hungry?”

Katrina couldn’t think how to answer the question without worrying Chris any further. Jerrid filled in: “Then we could potentially have a problem on our hands.” Chris and Katrina laid down beside Jerrid, looking at the sky and contemplating the possible outcomes if Emily were to escape. Jerrid frowned; “I’m out of beer; it spilled.”

End of Chapter 8: Up on the roof

.......“And you give me shit about not wanting to come back here.” Jerrid yelled from his horizontal position a few feet away.

“We have to go there.” Chris encouraged.

“I suppose you’re right.” Katrina felt strong in that moment and knew she would finally be able to enter her home again. She smiled sincerely at Chris and looked over at Jerrid, who was trying to drink his beer while lying on his back. They walked over and sat next to him. Chris leaned back, propped up on his elbows enjoying the clear view of the stars; they were spectacular dots of light in the dark sky with no city lights or smog to interfere with their brightness; Chris could clearly make out the constellations and even see what he imagined was part of the milky way.

Jerrid’s cell phone rang and he fumbled in his pant pocket for it, knocking over his beer in the process.

“Shit. Hello?”

Katrina watched Jerrid intently and Chris watched them both curiously.

“Clint, Hi. Okay so you got her secured in the basement? Is she talking yet?” Jerrid nodded to himself “Okay, just keep her there overnight; we’ll come in the morning. If you’re not going to tie her up, Make sure she can’t get out.” With no goodbye he hung up the phone.

“Are you guys holding someone hostage or something?” Chris asked, very serious.

“Technically,” Katrina replied. Chris locked his eyes on her. “Well, what did he say?” She asked Jerrid.

“He’s got her back in the basement but he couldn’t ger her restrained; she kept trying to bite him. Apparently she hasn’t said anything yet but she’s… hungry. He said she’s moving normally but not fully there—mentally-- Yet.”

“So it’s working.”

“I guess so. You’ll have to try and give her another dose tomorrow and see if that will bring her back even more.”

Chris slid his bum into the circle more, “Does somebody here want to tell me what the hell is going on? Please.”

Katrina glanced over at him as if she forgot he was there. “It’s Emily.”

“Emily? I thought she wasn’t around anymore.”

“What made you think that?”

“Well you said—“ Chris thought about it, and realized Katrina never did mention her death. “She’s alive and she’s infected still?”

“Yes. I brought back some of the medication they were giving me and testing on others in Colorado. I wanted to see if they would work on her.”

“You mean you stole and smuggled some medication.” Jerrid added.

Katrina didn’t acknowledge the last accusation; “I figured if she stayed alive this long, maybe she can be helped. I didn’t want you to come with me to Clint’s today, because I was giving her the first dose. One or two more and she should be good--from what it sounds like.” Katrina was very happy with the possibility and it showed on her face.

Chris didn’t feel the same way, “Uh, Good?”

“Yeah, she can be like me.”

“Okay, so didn’t you think that this would have been helpful information to me? You have a weapon of possible mass-destruction hidden in your uncle’s basement, which you just happen to be holding captive.” Chris stood up to walk this new information off. “Oh, I wish my head would stop spinning,” He sat back down. “Wait, what happens if she gets out and she’s still hungry?”

Katrina couldn’t think how to answer the question without worrying Chris any further. Jerrid filled in: “Then we could potentially have a problem on our hands.” Chris and Katrina laid down beside Jerrid, looking at the sky and contemplating the possible outcomes if Emily were to escape. Jerrid frowned; “I’m out of beer; it spilled.”