Dead Living (27 page)

With Sam.

I need to get out of here.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but
it was enough to give him a small head of hair. He watched the camp
carefully every day. He knew when they ate, slept, where they kept
their supplies, when they went out to town. He just needed a chance
to get out.

“Still thinking of your escape plan?” Charlie
asked, his eyes still closed.

“Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“I can just hear you thinking over
there.”

He laughed. “I'll try to think quieter.”

“Listen, Aaron.” Charlie lowered his voice
and leaned forward. “I know you still think you're getting out of
here. And you're an idiot. But you have to keep that to yourself,
okay? Derek thinks you're full of shit, but Amanda, well, she isn't
as smart. You're getting her hopes up.”

“When did you lose hope, Charlie?”

He leaned back. “When I lost my wife.”

Aaron looked at his friend. “You can't lose
hope.”

“Can't lose hope? Are you kidding? We live in
a world filled with walking corpses. I think hope got dead and
buried a long time ago.”

Aaron saw movement. He looked across the
tents to see Allister touring his kingdom. He studied the man who
murdered his family, more than anything else.

Allister did very little
work around the camp. While everyone else gathered supplies, cooked
food, boiled water, Allister did nothing. He simply gave direction.
He never looked at the slaves, his
property
. Aaron could see it pained
him to even have to prepare food and water for the
slaves.

Allister never smiled or laughed once. He
never showed any emotion. He was a hollow shell of a man, only
concerned with surviving from one day to the next, at any cost.

Aaron was going to kill him. His only regret
was that he couldn't kill him four times.

Allister disappeared as he moved closer to
the perimeter fence. Aaron and Charlie finally nodded off to sleep,
although it would be short-lived.

He woke up to the sound of a muffled cry. He
heard it again, followed by what sounded like a slap. There was a
loud bang against the wall in the truck next to them. His gaze fell
on one of Allister's men, standing guard outside the women's truck.
He looked around nervously while waving his gun. Aaron heard a male
grunt, followed by flesh smacking flesh. His tired mind immediately
put the pieces together.

“What's all that noise?” Charlie mumbled,
just barely awake.

“Hey!” Aaron shouted. He grabbed the bars and
shook them. “What the hell are you doing?”

He recognized the guard, a man named Keller.
He peered into the back of the truck.

“Hurry up you guys!” he said. “The property
is waking up out here!”

Aaron had gotten to know the two women in the
truck next to them, Sherry and Dana. He talked to them every day.
She was a child when the corpses first rose. She spent some time
each day telling them about the old world. Dana was sick, but
refused to take more than her share of food and water from
Sherry.

“Help! We need some help over here!”

Keller looked nervous, but no one in their
tents made a move. Aaron was shocked. There was no way every slaver
was sleeping. Charlie checked on Derek and Amanda.

“What's going on?” the young girl asked.

“Just stay back here. Derek, you both stay
here, okay? And please, cover her ears.”

Derek's eyes were fearful. He gave a nod.

Aaron paced back and forth, his eyes never
leaving Keller. Hearing Sherry and Dana's cries for help, just ten
feet away, threatened to send him over the edge. If he could get
out, he would kill everyone in the camp.

“Why aren't they coming?” Aaron asked. “Why
aren't they helping?”

Charlie put a hand on his
shoulder to stop his pacing. “Look, they don't care, Aaron. As long
as the
property
isn't harmed, Allister doesn't care. This shit happens every
now and then. Keller doesn't even really need to stand guard out
there.”

Aaron grabbed at his hair in frustration.
“What can we do?”

“Nothing.”

Aaron shook the bars some more, just wanting
to be as loud as possible. The only response he got was someone in
a tent telling him to shut up.

Sherry went quiet. Only Dana cried out in
pain. Aaron could hear more of the rape. Charlie put a hand on his
shoulder as a tear ran down his face.

“They're strong,” he said. “They'll get
through this-”

A loud throaty moan, followed by a terrified
scream, erupted from the truck. Aaron and Charlie went to the bars
to see as much as they could. Keller was shaking as he pointed his
rifle into the darkness.

The planned rape had gone horribly wrong.

Harold, the man who had picked out Sherry
earlier in the day, lost control. He was too rough on her, beat her
too much. He never realized that Sherry didn't just pass out, he
had killed her. He didn't know until, in mid-thrust, Sherry came
back to life and sank her teeth into his throat.

She shook her face violently, ripping flesh
away. Blood shot from his neck and sprayed over Sherry's face.
Harold tried to shout, but nothing came out. Andy, the man who
picked out Dana, couldn't see what was happening next to him, but
he heard the feast. He pushed himself away from Dana and crawled
toward the open bars. His pants were still around his ankles.

Keller slammed the bars in his face and
chained them shut.

“What the fuck?” Andy screamed. He reached
through the bars. “Open the gate!”

Keller panicked. He disappeared in between
the trucks into the shadows. Andy shouted in pain as Sherry bit
into his bare leg. Dana cowered at the front of the truck,
screaming as loud as she could.

“You've got walkers killing your damn
property!” Aaron shouted.

Only then did he finally see a head poke out
of a tent.

Harold twitched as Sherry gnawed on Andy's
arm. He slowly crawled toward Dana, who tried to keep quiet in the
corner. Harold couldn't see Dana, but he could certainly smell
her.

Aaron and Charlie said nothing as men finally
ran to the truck. Amanda and Derek were both crying. Aaron reached
out to hold Amanda, and she nearly jumped in his arms. Charlie put
an arm around Derek as he wiped his eyes.

Aaron wondered who was worse, humans or
undead.

*****

It was mid morning as Allister paced back and
forth near the trucks. His men were gathered around, both anxious
and afraid of what he had to say. The undead corpses of Sherry,
Dana, Harold, and Andy reached through the bars as he passed by.
The women didn't wear any pants, a sick reminder of the prior
night's events. Andy still had his pants down, and would fall and
pick himself back up, over and over again. Some of the men had
trouble keeping in their laughter.

Allister said nothing. He was so angry he
couldn't speak. What he wanted to do was cut every man loose, and
wave goodbye to the slave trade. He knew he couldn't do that, not
yet. They needed to get back to the old border that used to
separate the United States from Canada and trade every last slave
they had. Whichever ones didn't sell, it was easy just to kill
them. Then he would retire to a nice little corner and watch the
corpses kill everyone.

As he paced by the last truck, the newest
slave kept giving him that hard look. Allister never looked at the
slaves. He didn't really consider them people. For some reason, the
newest slave got under his skin, and he wasn't sure why.

He stopped by the truck full of corpses and
fired off four shots from his pistol. The rest of the men flinched
as the corpses collapsed on top of each other.

“I want to know who helped with this last
night,” he said. “The gate didn't just close itself.”

No one said anything.

“If you want to fuck the
slaves, fine. I don't care. But you
kill
them, you take food out of my
mouth. So, again, who was part of this?”

Silence.

He stopped in front of the last truck,
Aaron's truck. As always, they kept the children near the front.
Aaron and Charlie said nothing as they leaned against the bars.
Aaron knew he could spot Keller if he saw him, but he didn't know
his name. Only Charlie knew, and he wasn't talking.

“I know you saw,” Allister said, looking
right at Aaron. “I know it was you making all the noise. Who was
it?”

He said nothing. He just kept his eyes locked
on Allister.

Allister finally figured out what it was
about the young man that unsettled him. He wasn't afraid. The camp
was full of people that were afraid of him, even his own men.
Whenever he passed by someone, they would dip their head or lower
their eyes.

But not Aaron.

Allister needed to get everyone back to the
border in one piece. He needed them to behave, plain and simple. He
thought the six corpses he left chained up would have deterred
unruly behavior. Obviously, he was wrong. He needed another
example, and Aaron would serve that purpose.

He gestured to two of his men whose names he
didn't know. Allister pointed his gun at Aaron after they opened
the gate.

“Get down.”

Amanda wrapped her arms around his waist.
“No,” she whispered.

Aaron patted her on the head and pulled
himself free. “It'll be okay.”

He stood in front of Allister. He was so
close, just an arm's length away from avenging his family. He could
do nothing, not with forty men standing around with guns.

Allister pistol-whipped Aaron across the
face.

He dropped to one knee. Allister circled
around him.

“Who was it?”

Aaron truly didn't know, but he wouldn't
utter the words. He wouldn't say another word to Allister until he
had his hands wrapped around his throat.

The beating continued for a few minutes.
Charlie wanted to say something, but he was too afraid. He had
Amanda and Derek to think of, and he could only imagine what the
other slavers would do to them if he gave one of them up. Allister
tried to control the men, but Charlie knew they were all out of
control, except for Gibbons.

Aaron was on his knees, still looking
defiantly at Allister. Allister stepped forward and kicked him
square in the face.

“Get some rope,” Allister announced. “We're
gonna play a little game.”

Two men hauled Aaron to his feet. He spit
blood to the ground. He'd just recovered from the beating he took
on his first day at camp, now he had to deal with another. A few
men tied two pieces of rope around his waist.

Charlie started shaking the bars. He knew
what Allister had in mind. He'd seen it before. He couldn't let
Aaron die such a horrible death. Even Derek was scared.

“It was Keller!” Charlie shouted. “It was
dark, but I'm pretty sure it was Keller!”

Allister laughed. “It's a little late for
that now. Shit, we've already got the rope tied. But grab Keller,
he's next.”

He signaled, and the two men holding onto
Aaron began to pull him by the rope. The rest of the slavers
started cheering and whistling. They cleared a path to the chained
corpses.

They're gonna feed me to the walkers.

He tried not to smile.

His chance had finally arrived.

He looked around quickly while digging his
heels in the ground. He was still weak from the beating. He needed
time.

“Please, wait!” he shouted. He tried to sound
desperate, even though the corpses didn't look at him.

“Let's place bets on how many times we'll
hear that!” Allister said.

Aaron searched around as they dragged him
back another few feet. He could finally see the entire camp. Three
men had grabbed Keller and were kicking him on the ground. They
were in the middle of the yard. No matter which direction he chose,
it would still be a long run to the fence. Climbing the fence
wouldn't be fast either.

His eyes fell on some crates against the rear
fence. That was his best chance.

He met Charlie's gaze. He was trying to
shield Amanda from what she was about to see. He saw the rest of
the slaves he'd never met watching from behind bars. Only the
slaves and Gibbons looked horrified. Everyone else was having a fun
time.

Aaron dug his heels once again in the ground,
to plot out his escape. His only immediate danger was the slavers
realizing the corpses were more interested in them than him. He
leaned forward and tried to crawl on the ground.

“Allister! Listen to me!”

Allister smiled. The men took his advice and
were placing bets now. Some bet on how long it would take for the
walkers to kill him. Others bet on how much he would beg. Allister
was pleased. This would teach a lesson about staying in line, and
let the men blow off some steam.

Aaron was blinded by a light.

He glanced to his left. In the trees, just a
short distance behind the rear fence, was a flash. It disappeared,
then hit him again in the eyes.

Someone was signaling him. He had a good idea
of who it was.

“Please, stop!” he shouted, more for his
accomplice's benefit than his own.

He gave one final look around camp. Most of
the men had holstered their weapons.

Allister knelt down in front of Aaron. He
made sure to keep his distance. The walkers stretched and reached
for the camp leader, but to everyone, it seemed they were reaching
for Aaron.

Aaron struggled against the rope, which made
it hard to breathe.

“Nothing personal, young man,” Allister
said.

Aaron looked up at him. Something scratched
at the back of Allister's mind. His instincts, which had kept him
alive from the very beginning, were telling him something was
wrong.

Through the bloody nose, swollen eyes, and
bruised jaw, Aaron gave Allister a bright smile.