Flirting With Death: Surviving The Infected Page 13
The ice and snow melted as things warmed and, in April, it was almost gone when Justin screamed from somewhere in the woods. Sarah and I had been getting the wood for the evening’s dinner ready, and stealing kisses, when we heard the shout. I got there in time to see him run into the cabin and slam the door. I listened, and heard nothing. It was strange. Sarah motioned to his footprints and I nodded. We backtracked to where he'd been, the little valley with the acorns, probably watching the squirrels. I was looking into the majestic oaks when I noticed a figure across from me, its legs buried in a snow drift.
My heart started hammering and Sarah kept trying to get in front of me. I'd grown, changed over the winter. I’d become someone different, and was no longer the shy guy. I didn't want to lose anyone else, and the Andersens were all I had left as far as family went. With a one fingered salute to me, I took point and approached the figure.
It was an infected and, judging by things, it had been standing there for quite a while. Its eyes were completely milky white and the odor coming off it smelled reminiscent of road kill, not the reeking stench of rotted meat that was marinated in horse piss that I'd come to recognize as something entirely different. The infected just stank different, that was all. The other thing I noticed? It was dead.
“Go get your parents.” I told Sarah, the .44 in my hand as I nudged the body lightly.
“They're coming already.”
“What was it your dad told me to do to dead deer?”
“Poke them in the eye. If they flinch, shoot.”
“Yeah, but why do that?”
“Nobody can hold still if you poke them in the eye. Nobody.”
“Ok, be ready,” I told her as I held my breath; the barrel of the .44 brushing against the infected's flesh, which almost smeared off.
“Oh God, that's bad,” Sarah gagged.
“Yeah, it is.”
Katherine examined the body, and a day later, we found another one. She wouldn't tell us what she was thinking, but kept going back to the library shelves, pulling books out at random. After we found a third and she muttered, “Just the same.” We forced her to talk to us.
“Dammit Kath, what is going on?”
“It's too simple. I'm just trying to get my head around it.”
“Did they just freeze to death?”
“Sort of, but not really.”
“I'm getting tired of this. You're the doctor here, what killed them?”
“Without an autopsy? I'd say freezer burn.”
“What?” I asked, not sure if I’d heard her right.
“When they froze solid, their cell membranes burst. When they thawed... Well, neural pathways, muscles and so on… the entire body is probably a wreck.”
“What does that mean?” Sarah asked, coming up behind me, putting her arms around my waist.
“They froze to death. Literally. I've been trying to wrap my mind around this for the last couple of days, looking at every possibility if this was the case...”
In the end, it turned out to be the cold. Sure, the infected could thrive in the warmer climates, but not up in the great white north. In the end, Mother Winter conquered all. Any infected we came across (Katherine theorized) would be freshly turned or from a more southern climate, migrating in.
“So we'd be relatively safe up here?” Justin asked.
“I'd be surprised if we saw another infected anytime soon.” She ruffled his long hair with a smile.
I had to smile too; if we were getting a reprieve from the infected, I wanted to drop some trees close to the cabin and get the solar setup installed. We could do so much more if we did that, and we needed enough sunlight for the permaculture garden that Sarah was planning. It would supply us with enough greens and vegetables to barely keep us going without relying on foraging too much. There was always Bobby's cabin of course, and his stash, but we didn't think we'd need it. We'd keep it as a fall back location. Just in case.
You just never know when you'll need someplace safe to bug out to.
The End.
About The Author –
Boyd Craven III was born and raised in Michigan, an avid outdoorsman who’s always loved to read and write from a young age. When he isn’t working outside on the farm, or chasing a household of both blood and foster kids, he’s sitting in his Lazy Boy, typing away.
This is his first novel to be released, although he is a bestselling author under other pen names. If you’d like to contact Boyd directly, follow the links below –
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/boyd3
Email: boyd3@live.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 – Funeral
Chapter 3 – Go North
Chapter 4 – The Cabin
Chapter 5 – First Morning
Chapter 6 – Town and Dire Warnings
Chapter 7 – Friday
Chapter 8 – A Disturbing Phone Call
Chapter 9 – East Jordan
Chapter 10 – Reunion and Preps
Chapter 11 – Frank's Message
Chapter 12 – Waiting
Chapter 13 – Running Gun Fight
Chapter 14 – Boat
Chapter 15 – Healing & Laying in Supplies
Chapter 16 – Who's going zombie hunting?
Chapter 17 – Confrontation
Chapter 19 – Cipro
Chapter 20 – Present Day, Now Happening in real time.
Epilogue