Children of the Corn - Open

[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

He hated the abandoned cornfields. There had been a time, and quite possibly that time would come again, when he would actually love the cornfields. The quiet of the late afternoon was lulling him into a false sense of security, he knew that and chose to let it for the time being. His boots made soft taps on the side of asphalt road, the tiny metallic click of the .22's strap on his shoulder a counterpoint to the boots. All of this was his music, what he had grown accustomed to since taking to the road, and it sounded like it did everyday, indicating everything was still SNAFU.

But back to the cornfields. While it had always been illegal to hunt on fields with corn still in them, that had not stopped David or his father. If you knew the game wardens you could generally get away with something as trivial as hunting near baited fields. But that had been last year or years ago, it had been awhile since David had the luxury of hunting time. Now the cornfields were the haven of the zombies, places for them to hide. It was like that eighties-ish movie Stephen King had made, about the children living in a cornfield. You couldn't see them but they were there. And the rustling of aged stalks did not help matters at all.

The sounding of a sharp beep finally registered on his brain and he checked his watch. As he usually did when the alarm on his digital watch went off, thank God the battery was new and not likely to die off anytime soon, he paused in his journey. He glanced around, the rustle of stalks sounding so much like paper bags at the commissary when the bag boys started to bag items. He did not see or hear anything unusual, so he stripped his pack off, kneeling down with a gun across his legs, to dig for his map and compass. He was headed north with every step hoping Sheena had stayed put and constantly on the search for his own family. So far there had been no luck, but chances are he would find them sooner or later. His dad was a good man, his mother was smart and his sisters took after them. As for Sheena, she was supposed to be with other Army buddies. He would try the next pay phone he found, hopefully she would answer the number then.

He checked the compass against his map, determining he was still headed north but was now moving slightly west. Not the best thing in the world but he had to follow the roads. It was more dangerous to follow the roads, the zombies had less obstacles and there were other people as well, but it was faster. The overland route was safer but slower and there was less chance he would run into people. He needed to run into people because he needed information. With a sigh he marked his current location, a guess since he did not have GPS. He unscrewed the cap off a bottle of water and took a drink, shielding his eyes against the sun as he looked around.

He missed his BDUs, the ones for the middle east had been made for hot weather. Now he was stuck with black t-shirts, black because it hid the grime of not being washed everyday, and jeans. The jeans could chafe from time to time, but he had long ago learned you always kept fresh underwear and socks in your pack. He was always on the lookout for both, more so than food, and would trade alot for those articles of clothing. He had a hat, but it had fallen off his head, held onto his neck by an improvised strap. David was lucky to have his boots, out of habit he checked the ties making sure they were still done. His boots were combat level, worn in and as comfortable as a warm bath.

"Now, where to camp for the night?", by his estimate he was short walk away from a small town but it was off his current path. He could always push himself for the larger town on his road but that was the more dangerous option of the two.

[Diana Cross]

[/i], but by people. Other 'survivors' she guessed they would be referred to when history would record this mass plague. The humans that could still function were not just immune to the disease- they were surviving every day, because those who fell ill, came back, and they're out for blood! She had to leave her bike in town this run, it pissed her off when she was forced to actually run. She did cut it close with those things, but she escaped unscathed. Every day she grew braver, weaving in and out of the hoards, and a couple times she even tried shooting them while steering the little motorbike through the vacant streets. She would drive out of the town and they would stumble after her, but they never caught up, and after awhile she was sure that they forgot she was even there. Not too bright, and they never learned... well, so far.

She didn't doubt the evolution of things, but she did doubt she would live long enough to see it get there.

One of the shafts of corn she had pushed out of her way came back swinging and whacked her in the bare shoulder. She groaned, and pushed it back again, as if it would feel the punch. The air was humid, and sticky for an October afternoon. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and readjusted the sack. Picking up the pace, while being extremely irritated. She wanted to get these ridiculous work boots off and slip up into the attic, and sleep, and eat, and maybe read a little before all of that.

Yes, thinking of that sleeping bag she had waiting for her helped her refocus on the task at hand- cross this god forsaken land of crops, and get to the place she referred as home now. She broke down a few more of corn posts, and another one came back to swing at her, she cursed a bit loudly this time, and lifted her leg up to destroy the plant seeming to attack her. After sighing with satisfaction, she continued her way through. It had been a week since she found this place, and wished she could just plow her path, and ride her bike through, but she couldn't risk some unkindly survivor finding where she was staying.


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[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

He glanced over his map, biting his lip in indecision, lost in the world of his own brain. That had always been a weakness of his, over thinking things. He could remember every time he over thought something and it had gone from good to bad before he could blink. David operated best when he went with his instincts, the Army and his upbringing had given him a good set of instincts to rely on. And truthfully, every bad thing he had done he could blame on following his brain over his instincts. Like his divorce, on paper it had made sense but his heart screamed no. Still he had married her and she had divorced him, thank God no kids had been involved. Instinct told him to take the path to the small town, but so did experience which he could not discount. But his brain said the bigger town would make his going easier, he could find people, supplies and other things he needed.

It was the loud trampling from the cornfield that forced him to stop his over thinking and react on instinct. He spun on his heels, still crouched down, rifle aimed at the cornfield. A muffled sound this time, following by more trampling and he put the gun into semi-auto, safety off, preparing himself for the blast of bullets likely to be unleashed. The corn began to sway violently back and forth as something, or someone, continued to travel through the corn. In his experience only the turned traveled through the cornfield, the fields were too dense to be safe places for the living.

Training hardened instincts took over as adrenaline coursed through his system. It was like a shot of caffeine straight to his brain. Colors and lines came into sharp focus, outside distractions faded away and only the here and now mattered. This heightened awareness of what was coming could, and more than likely would, get him killed one day. Focusing on what was coming could cause him to neglect what was already here, but today he would be safe enough.

"Who is there? Show yourself, hands up!"

He hollered the command, gun aimed on the cornfield as he guessed where something would come out. He was prepared for any eventuality, for anything that would come out. He hoped it was a living human, and a friendly at that, but he feared it might be something else, something dead. But of course it could always be his imagination. A deer, a horse or even a cow could have wandered into the cornfield though that was highly unlikely. As dumb as they were, they were still smart enough to avoid death traps like the cornfields.

Children of the corn indeed.

[Diana Cross]

[/i] and almost there. How long had it been? She didn't feel she had been walking that slow, she should be a little over half way there by now, at least.

She had just been thinking when thoughts were interrupted by a shouting out of words. She froze. Calling out inquiry of who was there, come out, and hands up- was usually a term that meant who ever was there was armed.

She instinctively squatted to the ground, setting the massive bag on the ground with a soft slap that wasn't much louder than hitting a pillow against someone, she hoped the noise didn't give her away. Her eyes quickly scanned her surroundings, she didn't think whoever it was could see her, but they sure as hell heard her. She cursed herself for being so uncareful. She stood halfway up and made her way from the bag. If she had no supplies maybe they would leave her alone. These supplies had cost her nearly cost her life, and possibly her bike. The two were interchangeable. She knew she was caught, what would running get her? AWAY! She shouted at herself.

But that seemed a poorer choice, the person here might also be on edge, like her, possibly he'd heard some news, or was heading in a direction for a particular reason, maybe even military, she hadn't seen one yet. They may have the scoop. She peered through the stalks, and saw a man through them. She placed a hand instinctively on the gun she had tucked on her waist line. He had a map, and a compas, she looked down to her shoes, and decided to reveal himself, he may know something. She assured herself.

So Diana stood to full posture, and pushed through the thick and dying stalks. "Do those things ever listen?" She said with both hands limply raised in front of her chest, she dropped them just as quickly as she had flashed them, "Cause, they never listen to me." She subtly tilted her head to right to take in this tall blonde man.


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[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

Well....he was mostly right on his aim as a young woman stepped out of the cornfield. It was hard to judge noises so he didn't hate himself too harshly as she came walking out. David did not move as she flashed her hands to show they were empty and set them down. After a second of staring, in which she said something about things listening to him, he put the rifle's safety back on and stood up. Looming over the asphalt his shadow almost ten feet long, he was an imposing figure in dirty blue jeans and a sweaty black shirt.

"Never been in the army then. Sometimes you have to talk to things to get them to listen properly", he answered, his attempt at a joke meant to relieve some tension. Nurses and negotiators all used the same tricks and he had been good at both skills. He studied her, taking in the fact she appeared to be alone and also appeared to be lacking supplies. She had been banging through the fields so he believed she was alone in which case she should have had supplies. Her lack thereof said she either had a hidey hole close by or she had dropped her supplies in order to keep them from him. He was not interested in her supplies, unless she had clean underwear and socks, he was interested in her information.

He shouldered the rifle, adjusting it to hang comfortably. He carried two rifles and a handgun, most of his bag was filled with ammunition with a spare change of clothes and the rest was food. A medic's field kit was on his belt, next to a metal canteen of water. He really needed a wagon or a horse, but he was loathe to take on caring for other supplies. "Where are you coming from?", he wiped his forehead with his forearm, removing sweat before pulling his hat back up to shade his eyes. David was not interested in where this young woman was going, but rather he wanted to know the way she had been. Maybe she would be able to give him information on his road, where groups of the dead were or where people were gathering and what places to avoid. Such information was invaluable.

[Diana Cross]

[/color] it was an under the breath mutter but still audible. A bit of giddiness may have betrayed her desired tone but this was to good to be true. She thought a small prayer of thanks for deciding to come out instead of booking it. She took in his image again, still unable to compare his stature to any one she'd ever seen in person before.

She lowered her hands and slipped them into her pockets, for lack of better placement. "Atlanta," she said vaguely, in response to his inquiry of where she had come from, "been making runs for whatever I need occasionally, and yourself?" She didn't feel like she was reporting to authorities, which was something that always irked her to do. "You're in the army," she restated, looking up to him. She stood around 5'4, and he must have been three or two and a half head lengths taller than her. She felt short, and when she felt short- she felt fat. Just something that came from standing around someone tall and fit. Her eye brow half arched, while the other lay relaxed, "do you know what's going on?"

It was an awkward question like- hey have you seen the rain? But she hadn't stayed to chat with any one for quiet some time and was looking for a bit deeper input than, run for your life, they're coming. She hadn't heard from any form of government rising, or any kind of authority coming to clean out what was wrong, she hadn't heard a thing. So someone like this may just be the answer.


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[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

He heard her mutter under her breathe and only nodded to confirm the almost unspoken question. She tucked her hands into her pockets and relaxed a little more, settling back on his heels as he glanced around. Just because he had met a ‘friendly’ did not mean ‘enemies’ were not around. He waited patiently while she answered his question and asked a few of her own. There was a statement in there about the Army and he smiled a bit at the thought, Yeah once upon a time, he thought to himself.

”I am Army, yes. Captain David Anderson of the Army Medical Corp at your service ma’m. And I am a nurse not a doctor”, the last was said with a wide grin. Most people mistook him for a doctor when he stated his position; they just assumed a guy like him was giving the orders not following them. He had thought about getting his medical degree once but didn’t like the job. “Texas, Fort Bliss”, he relayed his own origin to her. ”Headed towards Savannah to find my sister”, he added with a sigh. Finding his sister and her family was going to be like looking for a needle in a square hay bale. Finding his parents and Sheena would be like finding a needle in a stack of needles. All he had to go on by their whereabouts was a note and a phone call. In this world that would probably not be enough.

He rubbed his chin, noticing he needed to shave next time he found a razor and cream. He had a slow growing beard, thank God, but he didn’t want to get scruffy. People did not trust scruffy men, especially when they wore dirty shirts. At least if he shaved they would assume he took a bath to, in Georgia’s heat a grimy shirt was not uncommon. ”As for what is going on….”, he let it hang for a moment, mulling it over in his mind. ”I was working on the post hospital when a guy came in for a broken hand and a bite wound. The MPs said he had been bitten by the guy he was fighting, a guy they had to shoot because he would not listen and the stun guns didn’t affect him”, he began, looking up into the sky. ”I took care of the guy and went home. Next night he attacks his nurse as she tries to re-bandage his bite, biting her. He had to be shot. Next day that nurse doesn’t come into work. Two days later she is shot dead on the post. Three days after she was shot dead the post was closed down about a week later they began evacuating. All I know is, whatever is going around, it is dangerous and deadly. I would rather shoot the zombies then study them”, he admitted.

He kicked at a rock on the road, the toe of his boot rolling it over. He should have paid more attention in microbiology but he had never been good with the intellectual book learning. His strengths had always lain in application. ”Some of our doctors were evacuated to a CDC building with the body of the first patient for study, but I never heard anything back. And the military is all but disbanded. Too many of them are like me, trying to get home to families. We’ve got the skills to keep them safe, or so I hope”. He could keep himself alive, that part was easy, but keeping his family alive? That would be a challenge, but he had to find them first.

”Have you heard anything?”

[Diana Cross]

[/i] she found herself thinking, but shut out the thoughts almost immediately. Needing a nurse requires getting hurt. She didn't plan on getting hurt, she was either going to live or die. From the sounds of it there was no Plan B for people. It was scatter and hold on to what you have while you wait this out. It was nice this man had hope, Diana had nothing, in fact she had put down her own mother and brother, so she knew she had no hope. The other brother though... off somewhere and estranged, no hope there.

She had little to comment about the occurrences in his experience, but she took them to heart, an understanding was better than a blank. She could imagine everything he said. It was an interesting perspective, one many may not know.

"I went on a jog after work one night-" she paused and remembered squatting down to tie her shoes, and then bouncing back up to lock her apartment door, "I can't even remember how many days ago that was." She stifled a short laugh of irony by biting the corner of her lip, she released it and continued. She was amazed how much she had forgotten about the beginning, it was something that haunted her at night, but she rarely thought about it, it was becoming a repressed memory.

"When I was out, some guy was running laps too, but I didn't look back- didn't want to be rude- but I could see in my peripherals, how... strange he was," She shrugged and continued, this was the first time she verbalized this story, she had gone back to her mothers to see what was going on afterwards when the evacuation started, she was going to tell it then.... but that didn't happen, "When I was walking he was catching up and I turned, and I'm sure you can guess what I saw." Despite the heat, she was feel cool and focused, almost like admitting that all of this was real, she was hesitant. Would keeping quiet make her mother and brother alive and well? No.

"I went home after that, well ran home, not the apartment- home. My mama and brother weren't picking up the phone, and the traffic was insane so I walked, they were sick." She left it at that. She could not say the words, then I killed my brother, in the same place he killed my former boyfriend, and then I found that he had eaten part of my mother, and when she got up, I killed her too.

"Your sister, you've heard from her?"

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[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

He was restless, but it was a restless that came from standing still when every nerve in his body wanted him to keep moving. David wasn’t trying to be impolite or hurry along, but movement had gotten to be a habit lately, and it was a hard habit to break. He listened to the story of her encounter, nodding to show he was taking it all in. Her encounter had been as random as his, well the first one. The second one had clearly not been random nor had it been a good one. They were sick, that was a polite way to put it. He could read between the lines though, this young woman had shot her mother and brother, much as he had shot mothers, brothers, fathers and sisters on his eastward travels.

David felt the callous urge to shrug and say, It happens, but that was not the best thing to say right now. In three weeks his world had altered so much that he could abandon years of training to even think that thought. Would he still think that particular thought if it came to a point when he had to do that to his own parents? His own siblings? Even his nieces and nephews? He would. He was a nurse but in the Army you had to protect your own and yourself first, because if you didn’t, then who was going to protect you? How would you protect yourself? And once they were dead and one of those things, well then it was just a dead body and David refused to let a dead body have any power over him.

Then she asked him if he had heard from his sister and all he could do is look down, sigh and shake his head. ”No. Not since I left Texas. I was talking to my parents and her until the post was evacuated, then communication went down. The last person I talked to on the phone was an old combat buddy from Tennessee. She was coming to stay with my parents”, and be with me, he added to himself. He had no idea if that was the actual reason, afterall Sheena could be married with a family, it had been awhile since they had dated. ”When I got to my parents’ house in Alabama, they left a note telling me where they were going and who was with them. My mother asked me to come get my sister and her family, they aren’t uh…..”, he didn’t know how to say his sister and her husband were worthless at country living so he said, ”They aren’t survivors”. He put his hands in his pockets, fingers caressing the flashlight, extra magazines and loose bullets he cared.

”Do you have any idea of the surrounding towns?”, time for a scouting report.

[Diana Cross]

[/color] She paused, remembering riding through East Point, there was a school bus there, an Elementary one, blood smeared all across it, but the just at the height of a little fourth grader. A few yards away from that lay a child, his body limp on the ground and his face had been destroyed by a bullet. Of course he was infected, but a maternal part of her that would never be sobbed for the death of this child, "There's not much there except for corpses, walking and still."

She thought back to her bag, and the little farm house she had been camping at, she needed to remember where she had placed that bag and that she had a location to get to before sun down. She had to make sure the place was still as vacant as she had left it this morning. Before feeling completely safe.

"You planning on reaching one of those before night fall?" Why was she asking? She knew what that would lead to, revealing where she was currently hiding out at! Revealing her new luxury items she had risked her neck for, but this man didn't seem dangerous... and he did seem like a soldier, and a sane one who was on a mission. There could be little harm in housing a soldier for the night? Who knows she may sleep better than she ever had before. Would is be so bad to break bread with someone for the first time in three weeks, rather then eating by herself in silence, and then curling up blocking out images of everything that had been happening?


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[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

She mentioned two towns in answer to his question, and as she added the bit about corpses he got to work. The map came back out and was unfolded, a pencil and ruler were brought out from his backpack and he ran his fingers over the map to find the two towns, quickly measuring their distances from his previously found current position. It would be close, getting to Druid Hills before night fall; it was the closer, and smaller, of the two towns. It would be safer, as far as population went, but might lack essential supplies. He sighed, chewing on the pencil as he mulled over his plans.

”You planning on reaching one of those before night fall?”, she asked him. He glanced up and towards her, before looking back at the map. ”To be honest, I could get there before night fall but I would not have time to scout out a safe place and I would have to trust the first quiet place I came too. I do not like going into towns at sunset”, he admitted ruefully. In the fading light it was harder to see the walking dead, it was also harder to avoid people hiding in the shadows or get a look at his next move. When he planned on spending the night in a town, he generally liked to get there at noon. That gave him time to scout out a safe overnight spot as well as time to look for supplies. And he always left first thing in the morning.

”I am no stranger to sleeping outside, I will probably go another hour or two, find a tree to put my pack in for the night, then hunt and scout for my supper”, he explained to her, folding the map back up. That was his better bet and his better choice, unless she had other ideas. David was not averse to camping with another person for the night, it would be refreshing to hear other stories besides the ones in his head. Not to mention it would give him something to do until sleep came, and he would sleep better. With another person to keep watch he could let his guard down and actually sleep. ”If you want to camp with me tonight, I will share whatever I scrounge up. I can generally get a rabbit but with this corn, I could try for a deer tonight”, he offered. It had been longer than months since he had last had venison. If she had a decent fire he could smoke some and have some for the next few days, as could she.

[Diana Cross]

[/color] her upper lip lifted at the unhappy thought of her nights out here. Although she had tried, in her defense, the first couple of nights after the outbreak she had spent some time becoming one with the wild. It had ended up with bug bites the size of the bugs themselves, and pain in her back that she had never felt before, even enabled her ability to run for awhile. Since then she had been clearing places, and tucking herself away for the evening well and hidden.

"There's a place up ahead, through this field, it's not much," She shook her head and rose her eyes back to the tall soldier, "But I've been staying there for a while now, it's proved to be secure, and vacant- for the most time," She remembered an evening she returned to find a wandering one of them just outside of the little barn house. She killed it without even thinking, it disturbed her later that it could have been a survivor and she hadn't even checked. What did that make her?...cautious?

"I have some food at the barn house, and a bag I left over there," she said nodding behind her where she had left it while she weighed out this situation, "You're welcome to hunt though," she said, a smile spreading as she thought of what she had, "All I have up there is some beef jerky and chips."



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[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

He hid his surprise when she invited him back to the house. Was he really that harmless looking?, he thought to himself. Chances are he looked anything but harmless. Scruffy dark blonde beard, piercing blue yes, hair which hadn’t seen a comb in a few days and clothes which were grimy and well-worn made him seem like some hitch hiking murderer when combined with his weapons. He was pretty harmless though, or at least considered himself to be. The ladies back home always said he had been raised right, which he had always told himself he could have a little less of the whoopings. David might not identify with being a southern gentleman but that is what he had been raised to be and that is what he was.

”Thanks for the offer. I will take you up on it for the night”, he answered her, folding the map back up, properly, and stowing it away. ”You won’t have to worry about sharing a building with me, I don’t sleep inside anymore. I will sleep on the porch if there is one or on the roof if there isn’t”, he told her wanting that to be upfront in case she thought she might take advantage of her. There was a time he would have, a time when he could have gotten into any pair of pants he wanted and walked away without a regret. And that was only four weeks ago. Now, well he wouldn’t say no, he wasn’t made that way and that is what had gotten him into trouble a time or two over the years, but he wasn’t going to start anything. Women nowadays were dangerous.

”I will provide supper tonight, if you are alright with that. I will follow you to your place then hunt around the outside until I get food together” he added, shrugging the bag back onto his shoulders with a quiet grunt. It carried the entirety of his world at the moment and damn but it was heavy. He rocked onto his heels then stepped across the road towards her. ”Lead on oh fearless leader”, he shouldered the military rifle across his forearm so it was ready in case they would need it.

[Diana Cross]

[/color] she said and when her back brushed against the towering stalks, she turned and slipped in between them, to the trail she was blazing with her feet every day. She back tracked to grab the bag she had left in case all this guys wanted was supplies. She hoisted the thing back over her back, and with an exhale, continued through the stalks back to the place where they first met.

"Sorry," she mumbled, hoping he wouldn't be offended about the gesture of hiding things, "didn't know what state of mind you would be in." She explained, shrugging- a bit lopsided. The bag was weighing down her left side, but she tried not to show it. She had grown stronger in this time. She used to be involved in a few fitness courses at the local gym, but nothing quite as strainious as this world.

"It's just a little bit further," she had to smile as she lead the way, there was a porch, but being out in the open seemed to deter the benefit of finding a roof over her head. She was sure she could find some kind of in between they could agree on. She imagined this giant man sitting on a rocker of a different, nicer farm home, with his rifle in his lap, rocking back and further looking out into the fields for movement. She didn't often make herself smile, but this was a thought that provoked an upward curving mouth.

She led the way, she was hungry for a good warm meal. She wondered what this man had in store. For just this moment in time she allowed her mind to stray and think of other things than immediate danger, or locals turned crazy lurking in the fields.

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[Cpt. David Michael Anderson]

He nodded, showing he understood she would be right back, and casually turned around to check up the road and down the road. Abandoned here and there were a few cars but not so many in the middle of this vast cornfield. It once more crossed his mind to get into a vehicle; he was in a hurry after all. But he was particular about his vehicles, always had been. Maybe this girl, he had failed to get her name but that was not very important, would have an eye for vehicles. He ran the pros and cons of the present vehicles in his mind and shrugged, more than likely there would be no keys for them. He ought to go by a dealership and see what he could find there.

She appeared with her bag, mumbling something about not knowing his state of mind. ”No worries ma’m. I understand completely”, he gave her his good ol’ boy smile and fell into step a few paces behind her. No use in walking on her heels, if they ran into something undead he wanted to have the freedom to avoid her. He let his mind wander back to Iraq and the patrols he went on there. As an officer he could ride in the vehicle, but sometimes it was less dangerous to walk, so walk he did. On patrol you had a certain spot to walk and it rarely changed, this was a great deal like a patrol in enemy territory, you never knew when something would happy. At least here he was not at risk for losing a leg because he stepped on an IED.

He chuckled when she said it was just a little bit further, he had had a drill sergeant back at basic who would always say that during runs. ”Just a little further dudes, just a little further”, of course a little further had always turned into another mile, or two or five depending on the sergeant’s mood. And he always called them dudes being from California with a surfer’s tan and an easy smile. He had been a good man until he got shot in Iraq during one of David’s tours. Didn’t have much of a smile now unfortunately but still called everyone dude.