This is Issue # 4 of Dead Frontier by Walkerbait22, titled Beyond Saving.
Issue 4 - Beyond SavingEdit
Hannah, Cole, and Micah sit at the dining room table, eating dinner; Mr. and Mrs. Fleetwood have taken their food upstairs. They sit and stare at the chaos unfolding on television. Reporter Dick Johnson is again reporting. "We have new information from the CDC regarding the infection. It doesn't seem to be airborne; the only way to contract the disease is through a bite by another infected individual. These infected individuals are not people. I repeat, they are not people. Do not hesitate to kill on sight. To anyone out there that is still watching, I'm Dick Johnson. Good luck, and may God watch over us."
"This...is some serious shit," Micah says as he chows down on corn.
"That's an understatement," Cole says. "Hannah, do your parents have any supplies stocked up? Like food and water?"
"Barely. There's a Walmart in town; how about we check there tomorrow?"
"HELP ME! PLEASE!" an agonizing voice screams from outside.
The three of them halt their eating and run to the large window in the kitchen. A woman is clutching her arm and wandering aimlessly outside. Hannah runs to the porch. "Are you okay?" she calls out to the woman.
"They're coming for me!" the woman screams. Behind her, several infected groan and limp in her direction. Blood seeps through her fingers where she holds her arm. She begins running toward the house and Hannah opens the door for her.
"Ma'am, what happened?" Micah asks. He removes her hand from her arm and sees the gushing wound.
"One of those things bit me!" the woman explains. Cole sees the infected turn towards the house, possibly attracted by the woman's screaming.
"Keep your voice down!" Cole demands.
"What the hell is going on?" Mr. Fleetwood says as he stomps down the stairs. "Lara? What's wrong?" The hurt woman, Lara, explains that she was bitten. "What? You're infected?"
"I'm not infected, I swear! Just help me. Please."
"There is no saving you. You've seen the news. A bite is the only way you turn into one of those...things."
"Dad, we can't just let her die out there," Hannah protests.
"Guys, we have a problem," Cole says. The infected lumber up the steps of the Fleetwood residence.
"Wanda, get me my shotgun!" Mr. Fleetwood calls upstairs. Mrs. Fleetwood walks down and hands it to him. "Open that door."
"Are you crazy?!" Hannah yells over the infected pounding on the door.
Hannah reaches for the doorknob and flings the door open; Mr. Fleetwood aims his shotgun at the doorway. Four infected stand in the doorway and snarl excitedly at the smell of flesh.
Mr. Fleetwood fires four times and hits each infected in the forehead. Their skulls explode with the power of the shotgun, and they fall lifelessly to the ground. He then turns the gun on Lara.
"Woah, what are you doing?!" Micah asks.
“What do you think?” Mr. Fleetwood’s knuckles turn white from the pressure of gripping the shotgun.
“We need to help her!”
“Help her? How? There is no cure! She’s beyond saving! She’s dead.”
“Please, Mick,” Lara pleads as tears brim her eyes. “I’ve been your neighbor for years. I’m your friend. Please, just help me.”
Mr. Fleetwood doesn’t blink. “No.” The power of the shotgun blast jolts Mr. Fleetwood back, and brain matter stains the white wall behind Lara. “I’m not cleaning this up.” He sets the gun on the couch and walks back upstairs; Mrs. Fleetwood still stands on the steps, covering her mouth in shock.
Micah doubles over and vomits onto the clean carpet until his stomach is empty. Cole pats him on the back. Hannah stands in the corner; her legs shake and she covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God, Lara. She used to babysit me when--” She stops and bursts into tears.
Cole just stares at Lara’s mutilated face. He’s known Hannah’s father for years; he knows he’s rash, angry, impulsive. But how could he just kill someone he’s known for years? Someone that called him a friend? This thought ponders in his head as he goes to comfort Hannah and pulls her into a hug. “It’ll be fine,” Cole says in an attempt to soothe her, but she continues to sob into his chest. “I’ll take care of this. You and Micah can go.”
“No, Cole. You d-don’t have t-to. I’ll get m-my Dad to do it,” Hannah says through frequent sobs.
“You know he won’t listen. Look, I’ve killed one of the infected myself. If anyone is equipped to deal with this, it’s me.” He lets her go and she leads a sick Micah upstairs to get cleaned up.
Cole covers his nose and mouth with his shirt, sickened by the smell of the infected. One by one, he grabs each of the four infected by the legs and drags them down the front steps, eventually taking them into the backyard. He returns and looks down on Lara’s dead body. Most of her face is a grotesque blob; one of her eyes hangs out of its socket and lies on her cheek. Cole looks away and gags. Eventually he builds up the courage to drag her into the backyard with the rest of the bodies.
Cole sits on the porch of the house and stares into the darkness of the empty town. In the distance, he can see several figures limping, and he hears the groaning of the infected that make his blood run cold. Lost in his thoughts, thinking about how in just a few days the world fell apart, he hears the loud sound of the church bell ringing a few blocks away.