“Sorry.” Red called out as the man started to turn away. “Don't go. I want to talk.” And so the die is cast, he thought to himself, this is my pawn in the great game of someone else's making.
The man on the road seemed to hesitate, then turned back, “So, talk. Who are you?”
“My friends call me 'Red'. And you?”
“My name is Max.”
“Pleased to meet you Max. Where are you headed?”
“Away from here. East. I hope to run into a place where there aren't any zombies.”
“Right. How far east you plan on going. I can tell you the east coast is gone.”
“Excuse me for asking, but how do you know that?”
“I just do. You have time for a story Max, you and your friend?”
“Maybe. I am supposed to find out what you want, the others are not so keen on talking. Talking…that hasn't worked out well in the past.”
“Not with other zombies maybe, but not all of us are like that anymore.”
The man seemed relieved, “Yeah that is what I thought. We ran into one guy, well, he didn't want to fight with us, but there was another, more powerful zombie making him fight.”
Good, thought Red, he already knows something, this might not be as bad as I thought.
“You still talking?” Max asked after twenty or so seconds went by.
“Yeah. Sorry, I can get distracted at times. I am trying to figure out what to say to you.”
“Well I am not going anywhere, we plan on camping out here as long as we can.”
“That wouldn't be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“There are a bunch of zombies coming this way from Colorado and Wyoming.”
“How do you know? Or is this another question you don't have any proof for?”
Angry, Red thought, he is so angry. Then again so am I. “Max I didn't do this and I didn't want any of this to happen. It was not my plan and I am fighting against it as best I can. Some things you are going to have to trust me a little about, but in this situation I can provide proof. How did you see me?”
“I…I just spotted you across the field.”
“You didn't and I know you didn't. Not at night while I was three rows deep in the corn and half a mile away. You've killed a lot of zombies haven't you?”
Max was quiet, Red thought he was trying to decide what to say, finally he spoke again, “Okay, yeah, I have and I can kind of see zombies from a long way off now.”
“A useful talent and I took a guess that you had it after you reacted how you did on the porch over there.”
“How long were you there?”
“Long enough.”
“And you just watched us?” Max said with some anger.
“I didn't want to intrude. How as I to know you could see us? Don't worry our vision isn't that great, we knew you were there, but couldn't see much in the way of what you were doing, the corn is too high.”
“So you can see, well, I don't know what to call, life force?”
“I suppose, I see a colorful swirling of blood coursing through living tissue. It is wonderful, the most exciting and beautiful thing I have ever seen and it is in every living person. I, well 'we' really, I have two companions with me, wouldn't have seen anything, except the….what you were doing, seemed to make the colors brighter and more intense. Like a beacon.”
“Shit. It drew the zombies from Colorado here?” Max asked a little confused.
Red laughed, “No. Sorry. No. It wasn't that big or bright. More like anything a mile away could see it. How far out can you detect us?”
“That is about my maximum range too. Your friends are within range and I can sense the edges of town without any effort. If I concentrate I can see into parts of town. I have to concentrate to see you, it isn't like I just do it.”
“Well that might not be far enough to prove my point. Try casting your mind's eye further west. Do you see anything?”
The man concentrated, then seemed to stagger under an invisible blow. Behind him the woman holding the shotgun fired into the corn field a pellet winged Red in the arm, even though he dodged. The woman was fast.
“Fuck you!” she screamed firing repeated into the field where Red was moving around.
“Stewart!” Max called out, “Stop! Stop! It wasn't him!”
She fired once more, then paused to reload, standing next to Max, who was down on one knee in the middle of the road.
Red decided to proceed as if nothing had happened, “Do you see them?”
“Fuck you!” Stewart yelled, pulling the shotgun up and aiming it where Red's voice came from. Max reached up and pulled the stock down, earning a glare from her.
“It wasn't him. He is telling the truth about us not being able to stay here.”
“What is going on Max, what did you see?”
“Zombies, lots and lots of zombies.”
“How many?”
“Over a hundred and fifty thousand, near as we can tell.” said Red, moving slightly to one side after talking.
“Are you bringing them here?”
“No, me and my two friends are doing everything we can to stop them.”
“Why?”
“Because I hate them Max. I hate what they did to us and I hate what they are trying to do to you and the other humans. But I need your help.”
“What?”
“Do you want what I need or some background first? If you have time and if you promise not to shoot at me I can tell you what I know and what I need.”
“Stewart?”
“I am not inviting them up to the house for coffee. We stay here and he and his friends do not get any closer to the house than they already are.”
“We won't come any closer.”
“Okay, then we can talk. So tell your story.” Stewart said belligerently.
“It started down in Florida. My brother in law called me up and asked me to help him move his old car off the street, he said the cops were going to tow it. I came over to help, and these cops met me there and they 'arrested' me. I had no idea what was going on or even why they had taken me in. They parked next to this building and dragged me inside, it looked like a normal office building on the outside and smelled terrible inside, like being downwind of a deer two weeks dead. So we go in and I meet this guy, he looked like a mad scientist and he introduced himself as Doctor Thomas Sentry. At this point I thought it might be some sort of prank my in-law was playing, but he just stood there with a dumb look on his face, more sad than anything. The cops stayed with me while the Doc when into another room, eventually he called for us and that is when I started struggling. There were three zombies along one wall, I didn't know they were zombies at the time, but I knew there was something wrong with them. The floor was coated with blood, some dried, some fresh. The smell, God the smell, was horrible! I know what 'carnal house' smells like now; rotted and decomposing flesh. The doctor came in and told me not to be afraid and while the police held me, he bit into my neck, sure that wouldn't make you afraid. I could not move, I have to emphasize this, the cop's grips were like iron. After he bit into my neck he started sucking my blood, but it got all over me, ran down my shirt, down the outside of my jeans and splattered onto the floor. I was hurt bad too, and I knew it, there was just so much blood. Then I remember him pulling back and slitting my wrist with a small sharp knife, he did it length ways down my arm, not across it. He collected my blood in a five gallon bucket not some medical thing, just a normal looking plastic pail. The bucket already had some blood in it, half coagulated on the sides and it looked like…well, like when your momma made brownies and let you lick the bowl. There were finger streaks all through the blood, as if someone or something couldn't get enough of it. My last living memory is of watching my blood pool at the bottom of that bucket.”