“Thomas!” Dan screams.
“Around the car,” Thomas groans. “Get to the other side!” He’s only partially aware exactly what’s going on around him, as everything takes place behind a red veil of excruciating pain.
Dan skips around the car as fast as he can. The two zombies still on their feet stagger right past Thomas, and Thomas, without time to think, stretches out his leg and kicks the black guy’s ankle hard, causing him to stumble and fall over. But the girl continues, reaching the woman’s car just as Thomas hears the sound of a car door opening and then slamming shut again.
He made it, Thomas thinks, laying back his head, resting it on the cool gravel. Dan made it, and now I faint.
He drifts off to a pleasant darkness.
EIGHTEEN
A voice from very far away calls to him.
Slowly, reluctantly, Thomas is drawn out of his daze. It feels like awaking from the deepest sleep. He opens his eyes, blinks, and into focus drifts a clear, dark sky full of stars.
“… Thomas …”
He wakes up a little further. Begins to remember. The pain is what brings him back completely.
He moans and sits up with an effort. His leg is one big blaze of fire. The foot has swollen to twice its size, and the sock seems about to burst. The skin on his ankle is deep blue.
Am I dead? Am I a zombie?
“Thomas! Over here!”
He turns his head. His sight flickers for a moment, then comes back into focus. The black guy is standing in front the car. From the side window, Dan’s pale face is staring out.
Thomas rubs his forehead. The skin is hot as lava. He feels the side of his neck. There is a weak pulse.
Guess I’m still alive.
He comes to his feet, using all of the strength left in his body, willing it to obey. He hobbles to the car, shoving aside the black guy and leaning heavily against the car door, rasping for breath, croaking: “Why … are you … still here?”
“We need to kill them, Thomas,” Dan says from the other side of the glass. “We can’t go before they’re dead.”
Thomas moans. “Just fucking run them over.”
“I already suggested that. But she says she can’t do it. And I don’t know how to drive.”
Says she can’t do it, Thomas thinks, bending down and darting the woman a burning look.
He skips to his own car. Every step is sending waves of pain up and down his leg. His head is swimming, his temples are throbbing. He opens the trunk and takes out the tire iron.
This is turning out to be a real zombie flick, he thinks, almost smiling to himself. In a real zombie flick they always use a tire iron or an axe.
He skips back to the other car. The zombie woman is closest to him, which means she’ll be the first to go. That’s only fair. After all, she started it all.
Thomas positions himself behind her, using a few seconds to secure his unsteady balance. The woman doesn’t even register him. From inside the car, Thomas notices Dan telling the redhead to look away.
That’s right, don’t look at me doing your dirty work. Wouldn’t want to cause you any distress, you stupid cunt.
Thomas pulls back the tire iron and bites down hard. He releases the swing with all his might. It connects perfect, the impact sending a jolt all the way up to his shoulder. The woman goes down sprawling, her skull visibly cracked open.
“Next, please,” Thomas mutters, a string of saliva dripping from his lower lip. “Please step up to the counter, sir.”
He hobbles round the car and repeats the procedure on the black guy. But this one doesn’t go down instantly like the old woman. He requires nothing short of four powerful blows. Even as he finally collapses, Thomas has to administer two more to keep him from getting back up. At last, the skull gives way at the temple, causing the tire iron to get stuck. Thomas twists it sideways, producing a sound both wet and crisp. As he pulls his weapon free, there are greyish lumps of brain matter stuck to the metal.
From inside the car, the redhead starts bawling loudly like a toddler. The sound brings Thomas a highly inappropriate feeling of joy.
Hope she’s watching. Hope she’s enjoying the show.
His breath is very shallow now, like his lungs almost can’t manage the effort anymore. “You’re the only one left,” he wheezes at the girl. “Last zombie standing.”
On the inside he feels something akin to excitement. Even though he’s dying, he’ll get to save the world first.
How many people in history can say that? How many can say they actually—
Thomas skips forward, and a new, flaming stab of pain rolls up through his leg. And this time, it doesn’t stop at the hip, but flows out to his entire body. The pain is too intense. It short-circuits him.
Thomas doesn’t scream. He merely gives off a sigh. And collapses.
NINETEEN
Dan sees Thomas go down for the second time. This time he doesn’t think he’ll be able to call him back. It looked like a minor miracle when he woke up again the first time around.
The woman is sitting with her face in her palms, sobbing. Of course, she looked away as Thomas put down the zombie who just a few hours ago had been her husband. But the sound of the blows could be heard even inside the car.
“He didn’t get the girl,” Dan mutters.
The woman lifts her head and stares at him, her eyes wet and swollen. “What?”
“Thomas is out again. He didn’t manage to …” Dan points out the window at the girl who is still snarling at them hungrily.
The woman looks from the girl to Dan. “What … what do we do then?”
Dan breathes deeply through his nose. “I think we have to do it. With the car.”
The woman immediately shakes her head violently. “No, I can’t. I won’t. You can’t make me!”
“I know it’s tough, but we might be talking about the fate of the world. If we don’t—”
“I just lost my husband! And now you want me to run over Siva? Forget it!” She turns the key and starts the engine. Suddenly, she seems very adamant. “I’m going to the police now. They’ll have to handle it.”
“I lost my sister too,” Dan says quietly. “If we drive off now, we might lose more of our friends and family members. We might lose everything.”
The woman has put the car in gear, but now she hesitates, staring stiffly out the front window.
Dan can tell how she’s fighting an internal battle. “Was she your daughter?” he asks.
The woman shakes her head. “She was my husband’s. I … I guess I cared for her, but we didn’t get to build a very close relationship. Janjak was very protective of her, since her mother died a few years back.”
“What’s your name?”
The woman looks at him. There’s the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Linda.”
“She’s already dead, Linda,” Dan says softly. “It’s just some crazy disease keeping her body moving. You would only be giving her peace.”
Linda nods in resignation. “I’ll try. I can’t promise anything. But I’ll try.” She places her hands on the wheel, but makes no attempt to drive anywhere.
“You can back it up,” Dan says quietly. “If you do, I think she’ll walk in front of us.”
He’s not sure Linda has heard him, and he’s just about to repeat, when she suddenly slams the car in reverse and backs up several yards. The zombie girl, as Dan predicted, staggers out right in front of the car and follows them. She’s a pretty terrifying sight to behold in the sharp gleam of the headlights.
Linda turns them off.
“Good idea,” Dan mutters and fastens his seat belt.
Linda whispers something under her breath, too low for Dan to pick it up. Then she puts the car in first and steps on the gas. The tires spin violently, gravel is banging against the underside of the car as it lunges forward.
Dan senses the figure of the girl right before the front end of the car collides with her. He even feels the jolt all th
e way up his seat. The zombie girl is flung forwards and tumbles across the courtyard, rolling over several times. Linda—to Dan’s great surprise—doesn’t slow down, but keeps on the gas and hits the girl again. This time, the tiny body goes underneath the car. It feels to Dan like driving over a curve stone. He is jerked back and forth in his seat.
Then Linda hits the brakes. As the car comes to a halt, she’s still clutching the wheel and staring out the windshield. Her voice is stiff as she asks: “Is she dead?”
Dan turns to look back. He can make out the girl in the red gleam of the rear lights. She’s not moving.
“I think she is.”
Linda gives off a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob. “Let’s get out of here …” She’s about to drive off.
“Wait,” Dan says. “There’s still Thomas.”
TWENTY
Linda really steps on the gas. The headlights follow the curvy country road. The car races through the summer night headed towards the town. Neither of them speak.
Dan can’t quite relax. Even though it’s actually over, it’s not really. He’s constantly listening for sounds from the trunk.
Was it a mistake?
His thoughts are oddly dissolute. Like he can’t really collect them. Perhaps it’s due to exhaustion. Perhaps hunger. Or shock. A single question keeps presenting itself, though.
Was it a mistake to bring him along?
He’s not sure. But what else could they have done? Run him over like they did the girl? He was still alive, for God’s sake. Dan heard the faint, rattling breath as he, with the help of Linda, lifted Thomas up into the trunk.
Linda breaks the silence. “Do you think they can save him?”
“I don’t know. It never works in the movies. There’s nothing the doctors can do, because there’s no vaccine.”
Linda throws a look into the rearview mirror. “What do we do if he … wakes up?”
Dan runs a hand through his hair. “I have no idea.”
They speed past the town limit and the first houses appear on each side of the road. Linda slows down as they reach the somewhat comforting light of the streetlamps. The streets seem only sparsely trafficked. At the first traffic light, Linda runs a red light.
“You’ll have to tell me the way,” she says. “I’m not from around here.”
Dan guides her through town. They reach the hospital.
“Pull over here,” he says, pointing. “This is the A&E.”
Linda parks, pulls the handbrake, but keeps the engine running. She looks at Dan. “I think it’s best if you explain it to them.”
Dan unbuckles and steps out of the car, avoiding stepping on his injured foot.
The glass doors of the building glide open, and a young man in scrubs comes out. “You can’t park here. It’s only for ambulances.”
“We have a seriously ill person,” Dan says, hobbling to the trunk.
The man looks down at his leg. “It just looks like a sprained ankle to me. You’ll have to get her to remove the car, so we—”
“It’s not me,” Dan interrupts and opens the trunk.
Thomas is lying there, in fetal position. His eyes are closed, his mouth open. A string of drool has run from his lower lip, and the skin is completely white. Thomas is obviously dead. And at the sight of him, Dan is struck be deep terror. Suddenly, he realizes how stupid it was to bring Thomas to the hospital, and just how dangerous the situation is.
What was I thinking?
The nurse shoves him aside. “Geez, what happened?” He reaches down to feel Thomas’s neck. “I can’t find a pulse. Don’t move him, I’ll get help.” He runs back in through the glass doors.
Dan just stands for a moment, paralyzed, thoughts darting back and forth inside his head. Thomas will wake up any moment. The doctors have no idea of the danger. If they bring him inside the hospital to try and resuscitate him—
His train of thought is abruptly interrupted when Thomas opens his eyes. But as the empty, milk-white balls turn to look at him, Dan can tell at once it’s no longer Thomas peering out of them. He utters a hiss and reaches up to grab him.
Dan acts out of instinct: he grabs the lid and slams it down. Thomas immediately starts scratching on the inside.
Dan skips round the car to Linda’s side, and she rolls down the window.
“What happened?” she asks.
Dan shakes his head. “It’s too late. He’s—”
The nurse comes running back out, bringing two colleagues and a gurney.
Dan steps out in front of them, his heart pounding, holding up his hands. “He’s dead! There’s nothing you can do!”
The nurse doesn’t pay any attention to him, he simply pushes him aside and grabs the handle to the trunk. “How do you get this open?”
“Listen to me!” Dan yells, his voice pleading now. “We can’t … it’s dangerous … he’s no longer human!”
One the other nurses—a young Indian-looking woman—exclaims: “I can hear him in there! He’s regained consciousness.” She turns to seize Dan by the arm. “Open that trunk lid, right now!”
The male nurse is still struggling to open the lid, tugging at it hard. Dan is close to panic. He only sees one way out of the situation, so he screams: “Go, Linda! Drive!”
The engine roars and the car skids forward.
“No!” the nurse yells, letting go of Dan. “What the hell are you guys doing? Stop the car!”
Linda pulls out onto the road and guns it. Dan runs after the car as fast as he can with his aching ankle screaming to him for every step.
“Call the police!” one of the nurses calls from behind him.
Luckily, none of them take up the pursuit. Dan waves at the car, and the brake lights shine as Linda stops and backs it up.
Dan opens his door and throws himself inside. “Go,” he gasps.
Linda has already floored the pedal, and a moment later they once again speed through town. From the trunk Dan can hear fumbling, scratching and growling.
“Oh, no,” he whispers, rubbing his head with trembling hands. “Oh, no, oh, no …” He turns and looks back. “Can he get to us?”
“I don’t think so,” Linda says. “Unless he scratches his way through the seats.” She darts him a quick glance. “What now? And don’t tell me I have to run him over. I’m not doing that again.”
Dan tries to collect his thoughts. The shock of the nearly averted disaster slowly settles, and an idea comes to mind. “I think … I think I might know what to do. Do you smoke?”
“What? No.”
“Then pull over at the gas station coming up on the left.”
Linda glares at him. “Are you going in to get fucking cigarettes? Right now?”
“Just pull over, please,” Dan says, trying to shut out the sounds of Thomas from the trunk.
Linda pulls over and stops in front of the gas station.
“Wait here, it’ll only be a moment,” Dan says, getting out. His ankle is worse now, all swollen and throbbing. He can’t put his weight on it, so he skips into the store on one leg. He’s met by the smell of coffee and chocolate, but the store is empty.
The cashier comes out from a backroom. It’s a young, pimply teenager, around Thomas’s age. “Hey there,” he says absentmindedly, not even looking at Dan. “You paying for gas?”
“No, I just need a lighter.” Dan skips to the counter.
“Sure thing. We got ’em here.” The cashier points to a rack next to the counter.
Dan grabs one and also takes a packet of Kleenexes, putting both items on the counter.
“Forty-five kroner,” the cashier says.
Dan goes to his pockets and finds a fifty-kroner bill all crinkled up and damp from sweat. He was going to spend it on a cold soda on their way home from the paper route.
The cashier gives him the change. Dan grabs the lighter and the paper tissues, turns and skips towards the door.
“Hey, what happened to your foot?”
“
Soccer practice,” Dan mutters over his shoulder right before hobbling out into the cool night air once again. He opens the door and jumps in.
Linda stares at the lighter. “You … you’re not thinking about …?”
“Drive out of the town,” Dan says tonelessly.
TWENTY-ONE
They pull over at the first rest area they see.
Linda turns off the engine and looks at Dan. “For the record, I still think we should call the police.”
“They won’t believe us,” Dan tells her for the fourth time.
“We just need to explain to them what happened. If we tell them not to touch him—”
“It’s still too risky.”
“But we can—”
“No!” Dan interrupts, amazed at how stern he sounds. He goes on more softly: “We need to end this. It was too close a call before at the hospital.”
In the trunk, Thomas is rummaging around, growling and snarling.
“Sure there’s no better way of doing it?” Linda asks hoarsely.
“I can’t think of any. Can you?”
She bites her lip then shakes her head. “And you’re sure he won’t …?”
“I’m sure. He doesn’t feel pain anymore.”
“All right.”
“Do you have anything in here you want to keep? Better bring them, then.” Dan opens his door and steps out onto the asphalt. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool, crisp air, smells the surrounding fields and listens to the silence.
Linda comes out of the car, carrying her jacket, purse and a pair of sunglasses. “Okay,” she mutters. “All clear.”
“Right. Step back then.” Dan opens the back door. He pulls open the packet of Kleenex and shoves them down between the seats one at a time. Thomas scratches and moans more eagerly from the trunk, as though he can sense Dan is close by.
“I’m so sorry,” Dan whispers as he tears up. “But I have to do it. I think you’d understand. And thank you for saving us, by the way.”
He flicks the lighter, looks at the flame for a moment, then he lights the tissues and shuts the door.
Linda has gone several yards away, and Dan skips over to her.
Dead Meat Box Set [Days 1-3] Page 7
