Throwing manners to the wind, Bryce didn’t wait for Victoria to sit before he collapsed in another of the chairs. He immediately began making a sandwich of immense proportions.
“You could be eating the germs that did this, you know,” Victoria remarked. She sounded as if she really didn’t care. He only shrugged and crushed down the sandwich with the palm of his hand. It was still so big, he looked like he’d have to dislocate his jaw to take a proper a bite. He gave it his best shot and Victoria turned away to look at her daughter.
Tessa was pale, the color of the moon. She was quiet, staring at a hopscotch grid that ran half the length of the alley. There were forty-two boxes, numbered in a childish scrawl. It was something she understood. Nothing else about that day made any sense to her.
“Call daddy,” she said. “You gotta tell him about this place. ‘Member he was talkin’ about finding somewhere safe? This is safe, right?” Why else would the skinny man grown-up be eating? Or the fat woman grown-up be sleeping?
Maddy hadn’t expected to fall asleep. She had sat, closed her aching eyes for all of one second, and now she was snoring.
Victoria checked her phone and got the same pre-recorded message. Then she checked the internet and found it wasn’t working either. “He knows where to meet us.” She glanced over to Griff who was standing next to the back door of the deli. He had found a length of wood, taller than himself, and was wondering how he could use it to block the door. “Hey, mister. I think I should have one of the guns. This guy didn’t even know how to load it.”
“I knowb dow,” Bryce shot back around a mouthful of sandwich; it was the last mouthful. He had wolfed down the rest. He pulled out the gun and pointed to the little knob. “See this?” He was clueless when it came to gun safety—his finger was on the trigger and the muzzle of the gun was pointed directly at Tessa. It was at that moment that the door to the deli banged open.
Bryce jerked and the gun roared.
Chapter 12
Bryce had jerked just enough so that when the gun went off, the bullet singed the air a fraction of an inch from Tessa’s head. In shock, the six-year-old wet herself, but didn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel anything. Adrenaline shot through her and it felt like every nerve ending in her body was on fire.
As tears sprung into her eyes, her mother snatched her into her arms, Maddy snorted in her sleep, and Bryce dropped the gun. He stared at it as if it had gone rogue and had tried to kill the girl on its own.
“I’m sorry. I thought it was… you know…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say. He couldn’t exactly say that he thought the safety was on since he had never put it on safe. And he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know it was loaded since they had just watched Griff load it. Bryce had screwed up. He’s been stupidly careless and nearly killed a little girl—he thought he was going to throw up.
“Stop shooting!” Griff snapped. He had no idea what was going on and assumed Bryce was shooting at the zombie that had just pushed open the back door of the deli. How he could miss the creature framed there was beyond comprehension. That morning, the zombie had been a bus driver named Tamara Ripperdal. As a human, Tamara had been unable to control her eating and had gone up two sizes every year since high school.
As a zombie, she filled the doorway. When Griff saw her, his first reaction was to try and shove her back inside using the board. The gunshot had the other zombies charging and there wasn’t time. He went for his own pistol, a Glock-17. It slid from its holster as smoothly as if he were drawing an oiled dagger from its sheath. His arm unfurled and he fired in one motion.
At a range of six feet with a target the size of a small pumpkin, Griff couldn’t miss. The gun banged and Tamara collapsed in the doorway.
“Come on!” Griff was already running down the alley.
Victoria glanced once at the fallen Sig Sauer lying on the cement and all her fears of guns came roaring back. She grabbed her daughter and chased after Griff.
Bryce picked up the gun and spent a second he didn’t have flicking the safety on. He then snatched up his bag of sandwich fixings and was about to run as well, only just then he realized Maddy was still asleep.
“God! Maddy! Wake up.” He shook her roughly until her eyes blinked. They were still out of focus when he heaved her out of the chair. “Get your gun. Maddy! Pick up your damned gun.” He shoved it into her hands and began pulling her along by Griff’s black coat.
“What’s going on?” she muttered. “Zombies?”
Bryce looked back over his shoulder at the deli. Something huge was shoving other zombies out of the way to get through the partially blocked door. From its clothes, to its skin, to its eyes, it was midnight black. It was huge and stronger than the others. Nothing had bitten it. It was whole. At the sight of the thing, Bryce was suddenly struck by a nearly paralyzing fear. It was a fear that made no sense. Yes, he was afraid of the zombies, of getting eaten or being left behind by the others. His fears up to this point had been right and natural.
This fear was different. It was otherworldly, as if he were seeing something alien from another world or… “From Hell,” he whispered. He was looking at a demon, he realized.
“Bryce?” Maddy had felt the fear as well, but didn’t know what was causing it. “What is it?”
He couldn’t say the word demon. He was a scientist for God’s sake and was sure there was a reason his soul felt like it was shriveling inside him as if it were trying to hide.
“J-Just, zombies. Hurry. Please.” He pushed Maddy ahead of him and ran, looking back over his shoulder.
The sight of the demon filled him with dread and he forgot his aches and the fire in his joints, and he ran faster than he had ever in his life. This wasn’t saying much. Tessa was outdistancing him and Maddy was able to keep up. Still it was a personal best.
The alley had a large opening to the west, one that a car could drive through. It also had a narrow one to the south. It was barely a foot and a half wide. Much to Maddy’s dismay, Griff chose the narrow one. He slid in sideways, gun at the ready. Victoria went next and then Tessa, her puffy blue coat making a whistling sound as it scraped across the filthy wall.
“Jesus,” Maddy whispered at the sight of the gap. Without another choice, she pushed in and got stuck right off. “Oh shit. Bryce! Shit. Help me.”
Bryce’s heart began to hammer. She was being too loud! The urge to leave her filled him and he looked back. The demon was at the table they had just abandoned. It was turned away, which settled Bryce for a moment. He shushed her, as he pulled her out. “Try it without the coat on.” She ripped it off and tried again. This time she just managed to slip in. Her gown, front and back, scraped heavily along the wall and snagged on every imperfection along the walls. She was moving so slowly that Bryce began to go from foot to foot in his rising fear.
The demon had turned towards them. Behind it, the alley was filling with the dead.
“Hurry for God’s sake,” Bryce whispered. He could feel his bladder wanting to let go on the spot.
Maddy tried. She pushed sideways as hard as she could. Her gown tore as it caught on a jagged bit of cement. She tried to keep going but after ten feet she realized that she would be naked by the time she reached the other side.
Bryce watched her from the opening of the gap. He had only progressed a foot into it, afraid that Maddy would get stuck and that he would be trapped. The weaker Bryce inside him wanted to run away. He could slip into the shadows and sneak off…and Maddy would be killed. The demon would get her and devour her, chunk by chunk.
It was drifting towards them, sniffing the air. Bryce was torn between doing the right thing—helping Maddy—and running away. It can smell my fear, Bryce realized. Or is it the pastrami?
The aroma coming from the bag of meat and cheese was heady and strong. Was it luring the creatures on? Coming to an instant, but painful decision, he swung the bag in a full circle and sent it flying off towards the wider entrance to the alley. It fluttered as it
sailed through the air and then landed with a louder than expected thud. The demon turned in that direction and ran with a strangely stiff gait towards it.
Bryce immediately slipped into the gap and began pushing hard against Maddy, forcing her deeper into the narrow chasm. She whimpered as the gown tore completely and hung from her like a death shroud. Now it was her flesh going red and raw. Somehow, she managed to hold in the pain.
Unfortunately, she kicked a pipe that clanked loudly into another. It was only then that Bryce realized that underfoot were lengths of old rusting rebar and wrist-thick iron pipes. The metallic clank brought the zombies hurrying to the narrow crevasse. The first one to the entrance was a chubby, middle-aged waiter who had been still living with his harpy of a mother that morning. The zombie virus had freed him of that particular horror.
He was slightly rounder than Maddy; regardless, he threw himself into the opening. His once white shirt tore off him in seconds. Then his skin began to peel back. Bryce felt the sandwich twist in his belly as the zombie kept coming unaware that he was flaying himself alive. His hideous black blood acted as a lubricant and he slid onward, leaving a sickening trail along both walls. Behind him, the other creatures fought to get into the crevasse. They roared and gibbered and laughed maniacally.
Weren’t these zombies? Shouldn’t they simply moan?
“Hurry, Maddy. Please.” Bryce was so afraid that he had to clench his cheeks to keep from shitting himself. He begged Maddy to hurry, but she could only go so fast, and the bloody creature was closing rapidly. Bryce twisted around so that he had the gun pointed. Not wanting to waste ammo, he waited until the creature was five feet away before he pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
He had forgotten he had put it on safe. “Fuck!” He backed up as quickly as he could and nearly ended up tripping over more of the rebar.
The zombie slid closer, while behind it the others teemed. Most of them were smaller, skinnier, faster. They weren’t really bothered by the narrowness of the crevasse and it dawned on Bryce that killing the first zombie would only make things worse for him.
He knew what to do. Sticking the gun in the gown’s only pocket, he knelt and grabbed a long hunk of rebar. Planting one end against a crack in the cement, he leveled the other end at the zombie. It didn’t blink as it pushed itself against the rebar. The metal dented his skin, deeper and deeper, making it look like its flesh was made of white rubber.
Then the rebar broke through with a sickening pop. Not only did Bryce hear it, he felt it vibrate along the metal and up into his hands. And still the creature kept coming. There were more pops as it pushed the metal through its diaphragm, its stomach and then out its back. And it kept coming.
Bryce almost panicked. He could feel the fear just below the surface, but he had it under control, barely. For him, almost panicking was a moral victory and it buoyed his sinking spirits—then he dropped the pistol he’d been desperately trying to pull from his pocket. Just like that, his moral victory became a losing battle. He could feel his fear like a physical force inside him. It shook the core of his being and he would’ve run away only Maddy was still mostly lodged in place and was only slowly retreating.
Bryce turned back to the creature and up close, he saw that the thing was grinning. It had a steel bar right through its abdomen and the thing was happy!
“Fuuuck!” Bryce cried as he dug for the gun among the pipes and poles. Most were long, ten feet or more, but one pipe was only four foot in length. He picked it up and had the same odd sensation he’d had earlier with the “kick.”
The pipe, two inches in diameter and about twenty pounds in weight, felt wonderfully right in his hand. He hefted it and just holding it calmed his frayed nerves. The gun became an afterthought. In the narrow confines, attacking with the pipe was relegated to the overhead bash, which was perfect since he was facing zombies.
He lifted the pipe, paused, gritted his teeth and swung it in a sharp, fast arc. The happy look on the thing’s face disappeared as the top of its head cracked like an egg and blood shot out its ears. It fell forward, but because there was still three feet of rebar sticking out of his chest, it couldn’t fall completely. It sort of slumped to the side, half blocking the lane.
Behind it were the others. These ones moaned properly. It was an eerie, terrible sound, but at least it made some sense.
They climbed over each other to get at Bryce. They also climbed over the once grinning zombie, only to be met by the pole he wielded. He lifted it high once again and began hammering the creatures as they came on. In the narrow space, he had a distinct advantage. There was no room for maneuver. They came on completely without fear and didn’t even throw up an arm to ward off the blows he rained down on them.
Bryce killed them, one after another. They piled up as high as his head, and still they came on, crawling over the top of the pile. His arm began to ache and quickly, the pole lost whatever magic it might’ve had. He swung and swung, and with each crack of the pipe, vibrations shot up the metal and into his hands. Blisters formed along the delicate skin of his palms; evidence that he hadn’t done a day’s worth of manual labor in his life.
Sweat was dripping into his eyes when he heard, “Hey!” It was Tessa hissing from the end of the alley. Maddy was finally through. Bryce swayed for a moment before he reached down and grabbed his pistol. He then slid along the gap between the buildings. Just as he came out, he was greeted with a mostly naked Maddy. She was holding the scraps of her gown around her.
“Where’s the coat?” she asked.
Bryce looked back. He had dropped it and now it was being trampled by the dead as they pushed slowly along the lane. “Back there,” he said. “Sorry, but there were so many of them. We’ll get you something. There’s stores every…”
“Enough!” Griff barked as quietly as a man could bark anything. “We’ll worry about clothes when we’re safe, and that’s not now.” They had emerged onto another street blocked with cars. Most were abandoned. One had a terrier in it that was going out of its mustached mind. It was barking and growling, looking like it would tear them to pieces if it could only get out.
The sound was drawing the dead from the surrounding buildings. Victoria was already pulling Tessa up the block. Soon, they were all running again, as behind them the street filled with the dead. The little group had been terrified a block over when there had been forty of the creatures after them.
Now there were hundreds.
Chapter 13
Bryce ran doggedly, his bare feet slapping the pavement. Pain shot from his soles, up his legs and along his spine with every jolting stride. His shoulders ached and his hands were numb…except for the pain from the blisters. He wanted to toss aside the pipe. It was heavy and, compared to the Sig Sauer, it was a primitive weapon. And yet, he only had ten rounds in the gun. They would go in seconds; he had learned that the hard way.
Behind them were howling, moaning, gibbering beasts—some were also laughing in a mad, over-the-top cackle. The laughter was insane, even more so than all the rest, and the sound of it made him want to puke in fear.
Just ahead of him he could see Maddy; in fact, he could see way too much of her. She was starting to lose even the shreds of her gown and now her jiggling rolls were visible.
As much pain as he was in, he felt bad for her. Not only was she being tortured by the drugs running about inside her body, she was also being humiliated. It didn’t seem right.
To add salt to her wounds, they were passing rows of boutiques. She was a brick throw away from being dressed in thousand-dollar jeans and tailor-made jackets. For the first time in her life, she stared longingly at the designer clothes. She stared for a second too long and hit an open car door. It was a glancing blow but it still took flesh off her right arm.
Bryce darted around the same door, but then saw that the driver had left behind a blanket. It was snowy white and seemed to glow in the dark. He grabbed it and picked up the pace and after a few
seconds came abreast of Maddy, who was huffing and puffing. She was too tired to say thank you, but he read it in her eyes as she pulled it around her shoulders.
A shuffling grunting coming from behind them had Bryce looking back over his shoulder. It was one of them. The creature was tall with a runner’s lanky body. It put out a long, long arm to grab him. It seemed to stretch and stretch until it was inches from his neck.
Then Bryce had yet another moment he couldn’t explain. Without even knowing he was going to do it, he stopped, pivoted to the side and ducked under the grasping hands. The creature couldn’t control its momentum nearly as well and it shot past, but not before Bryce swung the pipe around in a blur.
Crack!
It struck the thing’s right knee and shattered the kneecap into a dozen fragments. The joint became unhinged and the zombie collapsed in a rolling ball of arms and legs.
A second zombie had been on the tail of the first. It too couldn’t stop on a dime and it tripped over its lanky friend. Bryce smashed it in the back of the head and ran on. He was too tired to be amazed that he was doing actual manly things. He was too tired for anything, really. The last time he had run this far was never. Although he wasn’t fat, he had no endurance and little strength.
Still, on a normal night and in proper shoes and shorts, he figured he could’ve run twice as far without feeling like his legs were about to give out from underneath him.
It was the fear; it sapped his strength. And it was his feet; every step was an agony. In the dark he kept landing on rocks and cracks and who knew what.
Sheer determination kept him running with his head down. They were going south now, block after block. Their way west had been stopped by hordes even larger than the one following them.
“Behind you,” someone hissed from above.
Instead of looking back right away, Bryce glanced up at the dark building. There were people poking their heads from windows watching them run. There were at least a dozen of them and more were peeking out from behind dark curtains or heavy blankets. It made him realize that the numbers of people fleeing or infected were just the tip of the iceberg.
Heroes of the Undead | Book 1 | The Culling Page 10
