Undead: The Undead Ruins - Undead: The Undead Ruins Part 6
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Undead: The Undead Ruins Part 6

On rare occasions, there was a Z in the tunnel. There were two ways they got in. If some idiot left the tunnel door open in the clearing, they could wander in. Sometimes people tried to smuggle out the infected or dying. You'd think, after so many years of living in an undead world, they'd know better. Yet blind human emotion triumphed more often than it should.

Water splashed under our boots. The light from our flashlights barely cut through the thick darkness.

Blaze raised her left hand in a fist to stop me and motioned ahead to the left. Something moved. A slow stumbled out, drawn by our lights. His chest cavity bloomed outward in a mess of chewed tissue, pulled ribs, and missing organs. The carnage traveled up through his neck into his face.

"I got it." Blaze raised her axe.

I stood with my back to the tunnel wall and glanced between her and where we'd come from. We'd gone through enclosed spaces enough times to know someone had to take the frontline and someone had to be the lookout. Blaze waited for the slow to clear the area of the decoy tunnel then planted the spiked end of her axe into its head. It crumpled to the ground.

We waited to see if the kill drew out any more.

Another shuffle and another slow came from the same tunnel. This one was less beat up. A gory wound in the neck and white eyes were her only real zombie traits. Blaze waited patiently as she came closer, then she received the same treatment as the previous.

No more came. Drips of muddy water slid down my face and I swore I felt something crawling on me.

Finally Blaze pushed forward. The rest of the tunnel was uneventful, until we approached the exit, where a ladder led upward to a trap door. It gaped open, light shining through. I guess there was another way for Zs to get in; if they came from within the town.

Blaze went up slowly, me following close behind. The tunnel exited behind a storehouse just on the edge of Brickston. We climbed out, crouching low behind the structure. In front of us were the lots that had turned to fields, behind us was the town.

The sight of bodies registered with me before the sounds or smells. I counted ten corpses nailed to wooden poles rooted in the ground. They were burnt to a crisp, and the plants around them were wilted or burned, too. They were undead, and shifted against their restraints.

Cooked human flesh. I'd smelled it so many times before, but I never got used to it. I wanted to breathe through my mouth, but the thought-now you're tasting it-stopped me.

"This took time," Blaze whispered. "They did this because they wanted someone to see it."

Her mouth was set in a grim line, brows furrowed as she scanned the field. She sheathed her axe and pulled her rifle from her back.

"You think some crazies are still in here?" I holstered my handgun and switched to my rifle. I hadn't fired it once since we left Valtown, putting me at a full mag, plus extra in my vest.

"Potentially. The bodies look like they're still smoking. Everything smells fresh."

"Let's go in quiet. Stay low and observe," I said. "It's safe to assume the Zs we encountered yesterday were from here, but there could still be more in town."

One curt nod. "Got it."

We hugged the sides of the storage shed, peeping in through the windows as we went. Big wood crates of food were tipped over; potatoes and kale scattered across the floor. Someone had ransacked it, but took nothing.

Cannibals, I thought. Not so into seasonal eating.

We rounded the corner and came face to face with the primary wall around Brickston. It was neatly made out of concrete and cinderblocks and about seven feet tall. There was a gate into it, then smaller gates that lead out into the fields. The nearest gate was about seventy feet from us, its doors hanging wide open.

I spotted empty crates stacked beside the storage shed. "Help me with this." I grabbed one then set it against the cinderblock wall. "Let's take a peek at what's over there."

It wasn't the most stable setup, but the crates provided me enough height to peer over the edge of the wall, which was flush with the roof of the storage unit facility and other structures. Directly below the wall in front of me lay a motionless body. Not one of us. It was a crazy unlike any I'd seen. His corpse was covered in hundreds of intricate scars. On his bare chest was a bigger, cleaner version of the emblem on my own. The top of his head was bludgeoned.

I looked right. There were numerous, giant water barrels all along the side of the building, connected to gutters. The space between the wall and building, about ten feet, lead clear to the gate. Three Zs stood right inside of it, all of them appearing to be Brickston inhabitants.

I popped back down. "Three stiffs inside the gate. Dead body right on the other side of the wall, but I can't see much more than that."

"Can we jump from the wall to the roof?"

I thought of Fort Christian, where I'd done just that. "It's risky. We'd have to perch on the wall and jump. No running start would make it difficult."

"Just drop to the other side, then?"

I went first, climbing back up the crates, lifting myself over, then dropping to the other side. My feet hit the ground a little too loud for my liking, but I ducked behind the barrel nearest to me for cover.

Blaze followed, dodging behind the barrel next to me. I peered around the edge of it. The three zombies remained where they were.

I signaled to Blaze to head out opposite of them. We crouched low and moved quickly down the side of the building until we reached its end. In front of us was another building. The garage doors to the units were open, showing the bunks and living quarters. More dead bodies were scattered about in there, stripped naked and mutilated.

To our right was a long stretch of road that went straight to the back gate, which was bent inward and falling off its hinges. The second gate outside of it was also broken. It must've been rammed open.

Blaze tapped my shoulder. "We should check munitions. See what they took."

I didn't think it was necessary. They'd obviously opened every unit when searching for people. There was no way they didn't take every round and gun Brickston had. I tried to remember what units they stored their supplies in.

We left our cover, headed in the direction of the back gate, then took a right. Brickston used this area as a sort of open market. Tarps were put over tables, covering the area. I'd venture to call it nice, but now it was destroyed. One side of the market was burned down. Whatever was left was strewn about. At the end of this row, the last two units were used for storing munitions.

We made our way through the mess. It was hard to tell if the damage had been done by crazies or the undead. Mangled bodies and destruction came naturally with both. I tiptoed around the small body of a child missing a head.

When we arrived at the munitions units, they were both open and picked clean. In one unit, the shelves were pushed to the side, creating an open space in the middle where a symbol was painted in blood, now drying dark.

The Brotherhood was here. The sword in a circle, painted with a surprising amount of nuance, stared back at us.

"Fuck." Blaze's tone was displeased, pleased, and surprised all at once. Yes, we were closer to the Brotherhood. But they had at least thirty new guns, ammunition, and if I recalled correctly, the makings for a few IEDs.

"I think we've seen all we need to," I whispered, catching sight of some Zs shuffling towards us from the opposite corner. "Let's check for a car and get out of here."

Blaze nodded. As we roamed the rest of the massacred facility, it became apparent the inhabitants were either taken, dead, or were zombies and had left. Besides the few we'd seen at both the gates, there was no one. All of the fields held macabre, burned scarecrows, and the bloody symbol of the Brotherhood was painted with less craft in other areas.

It was a message: We have your guns. We killed your people. You're next.

"Cyrus?"

Blaze looked at me expectantly. We were in the workshop units. Had she asked me something?

"What?"

"The cars are all jacked, but they didn't get these bikes." She patted a motorcycle. "Found them covered up with some junk back there."

I tried to smile and keep my revelation at bay, catching the keys as she threw them to me. "Good."

She straddled the motorcycle, securing her gun on her back. "We're close, Cyrus."

"I know."

But what we were really close to, I wasn't sure.

Chapter 11.

2 years earlier There were fifteen kids in Valtown by the end of our third year there. One of them was only a couple months old. The baby had been conceived and birthed in the little post-apocalyptic settlement. I'd heard people joking, saying all the new kids were part of the Z Generation.

I didn't have much experience being around kids. They were a hazard. Loud, needy, and dangerous, and that was before the apocalypse. I couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to take care of one now.

The day the girl was born, the entire town got together to celebrate. Blaze refused to go, even though Arbuckle made it clear we were expected to and it would draw unwanted attention to us if we didn't. I had no reason to go, so I sided with her.

We manned the single watchtower at the front gate. The long summer days were sweltering, making the storage units unbearably hot to stay in. From our vantage point, I watched the little get together in the main center of the town.

"I heard they made Jell-O," I said forlornly. "Kept it cool in the root cellar by the gardens. Cherry Jell-O no less. My favorite."

Blaze said nothing. She cradled her rifle. Sweat dripped down her neck and face. She squinted as she watched the area outside the wall. Occasionally she'd bring the rifle up-a gorgeous .30 cal hunting rifle with a scope-and check the tree line.

"Someone told me they were going to put sweetened condensed on it, too," I said, trying to get something out of her, even if I made her snap at me.

If they had even a single can of sweetened condensed milk, I'd have gone in a heartbeat, no matter what Blaze said.

My last remark received no reaction, so I quieted down. The sun sat at an angle that made the tarp useless cover. I was working on a bad sunburn on one side of my body. I shifted around to at least even it out. Blaze developed a flat tan in the summer that led to more fine wrinkles on her face once fall came around.

"You like kids?"

I'd almost choked on the water I was sipping. "No. Not particularly."

"I didn't used to hate them," she said. "Because of how I grew up, in high school I really wanted to have them, so I could give them a different kind of life. Better than I had. You know, the usual."

I didn't, but it made sense. I recalled a bit of information from the house in Monroe, with Frank and Gabe, when everyone was telling their stories. "You got that hysterectomy though, before you joined the marines."

She shrugged. "I didn't say I got it for the military."

"Why did you, then?"

Blaze, usually inclined to look you hard in the eyes whenever she spoke, kept her gaze forward. "Senior year of high school, my friend and I went to a party. I didn't want to go. Didn't like that scene. I lost track of her and found her in the basement. One of her exes and a couple of his buddies raped her. I walked in on it."

I didn't know what to say. Blaze didn't talk much about her life Before, and this was something tragic. I chose to say nothing, giving her space to continue.

"There were five of them. I walked straight up to the guy, Jeremy Sammons, mid act, and smashed his head into the TV behind him. I managed to land a few punches on two of them before Jeremy got up, pulled a knife, and stabbed me. His friends lost it and ran."

She gestured to her lower abdomen. I'd seen the handful of scars she had, but I never knew what they were from.

"Almost died. I suffered so much internal damage they had to take out everything. I was bitter for a while. I felt fucked up from all the medications I had to take. After a few years, I evened out and tried for the military. I was surprised the marines took me with something like that in my past, but I met the physical and mental standards. The medical exam was a breeze. It helped that my dad was one, too.

"After all that, once I came to terms with the fact I'd never have a kid of my own, I started looking at things differently. It dawned on me how much they took from you and never gave back. They're a huge gamble. When my half sister had her kid, it sealed the deal for me. You know, the one who turned that I had to kill. Just made me realize they take and take but never amount to anything."

Blaze's dislike for children was obviously rooted in her own past. Some of her hatred was mirrored in her own childhood. I wondered if the same could be said for me.

"Anyway, when I see the little fuckers it makes me angry. Especially these days. I mean, that woman down there? She won't be able to work in the gardens or on anything else because she'll be raising that kid. When people become exceptions, they think they have control."

"Is that why you got rid of Gabe? Because she thought she could get away with whatever she wanted?"

The question took her by surprise. It surprised me that I even asked. I typically avoided the subject of Gabe.

It might seem surprising that we hadn't spoken about Gabe, what with almost three years having passed since I found Blaze again. But it was easier than you'd think. Between surviving and running errands for our new boss, talking about undesirable subjects was the last of our concerns.

I was still coming to terms with Gabe. I used to think she was my responsibility. After I saw her with the cannibals, I was disturbed and felt like I failed her. I took her under my wing and, for whatever reason, she ended up with cannibals. With time, I did realize Gabe manipulated me. She was clever in her own way. She saw people's weaknesses and exploited them however she could.

The topic of children strongly reminded me of her. She had been so young-a child to me. How could someone that young twist me around her finger without me seeing it? If she did that to me, what else was she capable of?

"Yeah. I suppose so. Shit, I'm pretty fucked up. I did a lot of stuff I regret during those first months."

I swirled the lukewarm water in the canteen while thinking. No matter how I looked at it, Gabe didn't deserve the fate Blaze gave her. Sure, once I came around I would've told her to take a hike. I wouldn't have taken all her gear and condemned her to death.

"We all did. Still think you overreacted, though."

She seemed eager to move on from what she'd just told me. Maybe she had heatstroke and it was a temporary lapse in her judgment. Maybe she'd regret telling me tomorrow. After a minute, she shrugged.

"It made sense at the time. I took all her gear, and we left her in a position that would make her sink or swim. I knew she'd sink. How was I supposed to know the house would get set on fire or those crazy people would show up? She would've been fine according to my plan. Potentially."

"What if she lived?"

Blaze looked away from the horizon and stared at me with hard eyes. "Why would you ask that?"

Gabe's white robes. Her hair grown out. The redneck crazies listening to her every command.

"I mean, we always act like she died. We don't know if she did or not."

"Hypothetically, she could have lived. If she happened to live through the gunfight we had that morning, if she didn't burn to death, or if she did manage to get out of the shed, if-"

"I get it. I'm just saying, if she did manage to survive, would you reconsider how you thought about her?"

Blaze set her can down and leaned forward, her voice low. "Cyrus, is Gabe still alive?"

I swallowed, forcing my face to remain neutral. "That's what I'm saying. We have no way of knowing."

"Then why are you bringing it up?"

Gabe controlling the Brotherhood. Gabe pointing at me.

"I wonder sometimes. That's all."