Allison disappeared from my line of sight; had gone around the side of the dumpster, as if driven further away by the horde of zombies encroaching ever forward. “Alley! Allison!”
Dave held the block in the rectangle holes and spun round and round clocking anything in his way. The heavy grey brick was a ruthless weapon for the bear of a man.
Charlene worked her way closer to the dumpster. She just stepped forward and thrust her blade into whatever was near. Seemed like she wasn’t concerned with killing zombies as long as she stopped or slowed them down.
The zombies screamed and roared as we fought them. They were extremely animated. Strong. They kept coming at us. More rounded the corners. I had no idea how much ammo Kia and Michelle had. They were doing a great job at taking out the creatures.
There were just too many. The constant gunshots, the noises the zombies made, the screaming we did as we fought them…it had to be like a giant dinner bell being rung.
“Allison!” I’d reached the dumpster. Charlene and Dave defended Allison as best they could.
“I have her, Chase! Cover me!” Dave threw the cinderblock at the crowd of zombies. He squatted and lifted Allison up over his shoulder. I saw blood flow from wounds on her arm. It sprayed, staining Dave’s clothing.
“Let’s go, Charlene! Get back inside!” I said. I spun right and left and leapt forward, and jumped back. I let my blade cut into everything around us. Anything close, I cut, chopped and severed. My eye was on Charlene, who was now beside me, and we fended off creatures as we protected Dave on the few yards we needed to cover in order to get back inside the safety of the school.
Then we were inside, door closed, locked.
We were safe.
Except Robert was dead.
Robert was dead, and Allison had been bitten.
Chapter Nineteen
1216 hours
“Chase!” Allison held out a hand.
Dave used an arm to swipe a cash register to the ground before he laid Alley down on the checkout counter. The register shattered on red tiles. I saw fear in her face. I felt that fear like a fire inside my own chest. “Hang on, honey.”
Everyone stood back. The windows over the sink were now closed. Michelle sat on the counter, her back to the wall, her knees up. The rifle rested between her legs. Megan, Kia and Melissa stood huddled close together.
Charlene cried, silently. Tears left clean streaks down a blood and dirt covered face. Her body shook as Dave placed an arm over her shoulder.
“It’s bad?” Allison’s lower lip trembled. Her eyes were opened wide. They looked at me, looked around me, and then back into my eyes. “This is bad.”
“I’m going to need water. Lots of water? And towels,” I said. “Light the stove and find a spatula. A metal one, not plastic.”
“A spatula?” Alley said. “Chase?”
Kia grabbed a silver bowl and filled it with water, as Dave tore hand-towels into strips that we could wet and use to wipe up the wound. I took Dave to the side, and whispered, “I want you to hold her down.”
“Chase,” Alley said, again.
“I’m right here,” I said. “I want you to stay calm. Charlene, help me get her coat and shirt off.”
I needed to see if she’d been bitten anywhere else beside the arm. For what I had in mind, the water, the towels, we could use those supplies after. The deep breath I sucked in made me wince. It felt like a fist suddenly closed over my heart.
Charlene helped Allison shrug out of her coat, and pull off her shirt. The bra she wore was stained with blood. I poured water onto her chest. The blood washed away. I looked for bite marks. I did not see any.
“Only on my arm,” she said. “I got bitten once. On my arm.”
I whispered to my daughter, “Heat the end of the spatula up on the flame. Get that metal glowing.”
The bite on her arm was severe. It started at the forearm, and flesh was pulled loose up past the elbow. The blood spilled from the wound. The school kitchen was so silent, except for an occasional sob. I heard my own breathing. It filled my ears. “Lie back down,” I said. “I want you to hold still. Hold out your arm.”
Dave stood at the head of the counter. I nodded to him. He held her by the shoulders.
“Chase…”
“Just do it, Alley.” I pulled the machete from the sheath and held it with both hands. The sword was contaminated with fresh zombie blood. If I severed her arm using the sword, it might not help at all when her blood mixed with the infected blood on the blade. This might not work anyway. I only had seconds before it was possibly too late to do anything.
“Chase!”
There was no time for waiting, for talking her through it. I swung the machete fast, hard and screamed when I felt the metal make contact, and chop through skin, and muscle and bone.
Her arm fell from her body. It plopped into the formed pool of blood on the kitchen tiles. Blood splattered. The severed limb was coated red. More blood sputtered from the stub of an arm.
“The spatula,” I said.
Charlene removed the flipping end from the flame and handed it to me.
Allison yelled. She did not seem able to form any words. It looked like she was being electrocuted the way her head kept going from side to side. Almost worried I might need to stick something in her mouth to keep her from biting off her tongue.
I pressed the heated utensil against the stump, hoping it would immediately cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding. The spatula sizzled against the flesh. I think I screamed. The putrid odor of cooking human meat filled my nostrils. I vomited. My stomach bile mixed with her blood and severed arm.
Alley let out a single scream as well, and then went abruptly silent.
Her eyes were closed. The pain must have been too much. She had to have passed out. I hope she passed out. I wished it had been earlier. I didn’t want her to remember all of this. It was something I’d never forget. The images were seared into my brain. Seared forever into my memory.
I just kept hearing one phrase replayed over and over inside my head: I cut off her arm. I cut off her arm. I cut off her arm.
Melissa and Kia came over. They dipped the torn strips of towel into water and washed the blood around the Alley’s wound. I backed away, letting them tend to Alley for now.
“Are you okay?” Charlene put a hand on my arm.
The simple touch was not enough. I pulled her in for a hug. “I thought I lost both of you out there.”
I couldn’t hold back my tears. I didn’t try. I hugged Charlene tight, with my hands tangled in her hair. I couldn’t press her close enough to me. I needed that, her close, as reassurance that she was real. That I had not lost her.
“Is she going to be all right?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t know.”
“You’re bleeding, too. Your side,” she said.
I lifted my shirt and felt it peel off my stomach. “Stitches must have come out during the fighting. I’ll be alright.”
“Let me take a look. I’m sure I can fix it up,” she said. And I let her.
# # #
I did not see who had done it, but after my daughter led me to the cafeteria area, someone cleaned the mess under the cash register counter. They must have disposed of Alley’s arm and mopped up the blood and vomit.
My daughter and I stood at the threshold and looked at Alley, who was still out cold. “Anything?” I said.
“She’s breathing,” Kia said. “It’s steady. But she hasn’t moved at all. Her eyes haven’t opened.”
“I appreciate you looking after her for me,” I said, and remembered how, when we first arrived, she’d told stories to take my mind off the stitches Gene had first given to close my deep cuts. I touched my side, and let out a wince.