Zombie Off

by Scott Lee

A short distance beyond the dam, the small boat approached the first of many bridges that crossed the Schuylkill River on the west side of Philly. Or used to cross. The broken hulks of concrete and rebar protruded from the green water of the river as the three looked on in shock. It quickly became clear that the bridges had been destroyed in an effort to contain the undead within the limits of center city. From the look of it, it appeared that the spans had been blown up by the military, most likely by missiles from a fighter jet. Despite the wreckage, the small boat was able to easily find passage through and continue on its way.

  As the boat floated on, the group could see more debris littering the water ahead of them. As they continued, they crossed the broken remains of five more bridges before Connor gave the signal to stop rowing. Speaking softly, Connor pointed to the supply bag.

  “Doug, break out the ZOMBIE OFF. Time to spray us down,” he whispered.

  Doug quickly pulled the ZOMBIE OFF out of the supply bag as the boat drifted in the middle of the river. Taking off his shirt, he wrapped the can in the fabric and shook it up. After shaking for about twenty seconds, he set the can down and stripped off his remaining clothes. Diana turned her head, blushing.

  “No time to get modest, Diana. You gotta cover every inch of skin for the best protection, so be prepared,” said Doug.

  Holding the can about 8 inches from his body, he carefully sprayed every inch of exposed skin he could reach. Then, handing the can to Diana, he asked her to spray his back. Reluctantly, Diana obliged, quickly handing the can back when she was done.

  After his thorough coating of the spray, Doug put his shorts, socks and shoes back on, leaving his shirt off. He then turned to Diana.

  “Your turn,” he said, a serious look on his face.

  Diana looked back at Connor, as if to find an alternate solution, but instead she was met with his iron gaze, indicating there was none.

  “It’s the only way,” he said.

  Turning back to Doug, she sighed in defeat as she started to undress. Stripping naked, Doug proceeded to spray her down, never commenting once about her body. When he was done, he told her to wear only what was necessary, and to leave as much exposed skin as possible.

  As Diana began to dress, Connor indicated for Doug to take the oar as he moved forward from the back of the boat. Pulling his knife, he took the tank top she had been wearing and cut off the lower half, leaving just enough to cover her breasts. After putting her shorts back on, she reached for her bra.

  “Leave it off,” said Connor. “The more layers of clothing the less effective the spray.”

  Sighing again, she grabbed the tank top and put it on, followed by her shoes and socks.

  Next it was Connor’s turn. Following suit, he stripped naked and sprayed himself down, having Diana spray his back when he was done. He then got dressed as Doug did, putting only his cargo shorts, boots and socks back on.

  Reaching into an interior pocket of his supply bag, Connor pulled out two small objects and handed them to Diana.

  “If we get near a swarm, put these in,” he whispered. “They’re my only pair, but you’ll need them more than me.”

  Looking down, she saw two small earplugs resting in her palm.

  “Thanks,” was all she could say.

  Next he took out a small round container, which he quickly opened. Taking the tip of his shirt, he dipped the fabric into the balm and spread a small amount under his nostrils.

  “Do the same,” he said to both Doug and Diana. “It will dull the smell of death.”

  Diana and Doug both took some of the balm and did as instructed.

  With that done, he put the balm in his pocket, threw the supply bag over his shoulder, then grabbed an oar and helped Doug guide the boat to the dock. The dock was small, and appeared to have been used as a water taxi boarding point. As they approached, they could see numerous zombies milling about the overgrown park area that was once known as Schuylkill Banks Park. It was a long, thin stretch of grassy area that spanned the equivalent of two city blocks along the bank of the river, between the water and the Schuylkill River Trail. Approximately 50 zombies were moving about the park, wandering aimlessly as they waited for prey that would give purpose to their undead existence.

  Gliding slowly to the dock, Doug grabbed hold and carefully held the boat in place as he tied it to an anchor post. So far, the zombies had taken no notice of them.

  “Take this,” he whispered, handing her a wicked looking tomahawk with an axe blade on one end and a sharp spike on the other.

  Diana took the weapon and slowly hooked the empty sheath onto her belt.

  “Let’s hope you don’t need to use it,” he whispered.

  Doug, in the mean time, had slung his short sword across his shoulder and was slowly drawing the weapon in preparation for the journey, while Connor quietly slung the two machetes across his back, careful to keep his movements slow and unnoticed. Lastly, Connor reattached the knife to his belt, completing his defenses. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out one of the two large pocketknives and handed it to Doug, who immediately clipped it to his belt. The second one he clipped to his own belt.

  Looking at the others, he indicated for them to lean close.

  “This is it, guys. If you do what I do and follow my lead, we’ll be out of here in under 4 hours. Stay calm, and stay focused, and whatever you do, no matter what you see, don’t panic.”

  Looking out at the city, a somber look came across his face as he turned back to them. “I’m sorry you two have to go through this, because you’re about to enter hell itself.”

  Diana couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes as he finished his words. Seeing this, Doug took her hand and leaned forward, smiling.

  “It’ll be OK. I promise,” he whispered into her ear.

  Looking back at him, a calming smile came across her face.

  “Thanks,” she mouthed, no sound coming out.

  Quietly, Connor spoke next.

  “I’ll take lead. Diana is in the middle. Doug, you’re last.”

  The two nodded in reply.

  “Check your watches. I have 9:04. Our target time to reach Syrinx is 1:00. Latest we can be there is 2:00, but I don’t want to push the envelope of the ZOMBIE OFF.”

  Doug and Diana checked their watches and nodded in agreement.

  “Let’s do this. Remember, slow and steady. No sudden movements. If we’re among them, match their pace. Ready?”

  Two nods indicated yes, and with that Connor carefully crawled onto the dock. Holding the boat steady, Diana and Doug joined him. Standing, the group slowly moved along the dock, before climbing the ramp that led to the entrance to the park. As they moved to the gate, Diana looked upon the scene with horror.

  The once clean, well-maintained park was now an overgrown field of tall grass and weeds. Where children once played, the undead now roamed. Where blankets and picnic baskets full of food once lay, the bodies of the slow and the weak now crawled, loathsome and repulsive in their half eaten state.

  Moving through the gate, they headed for a series of stairs that led to the remains of the bridge above. The center portion of the span was gone, like all the others, but the section over the park was still intact.

  As they crossed the pavement to the stairs, Diana caught movement in the grass to her left. Glancing over, she saw the remains of a small child, no more than six, clawing it’s way out of the overgrowth. The creature’s legs were mostly gone, except for two small stumps where the femurs protruded from the gray flesh. Its tiny hands were shredded as a result of its never-ending death crawl, and its face was missing huge chunks of skin on the right side. One eyeball was gone, leaving a black hole that seemingly mirrored the soul of the horrifying creature. The small bony arms struggled to pull the remains of the body as the revolting zombie child crawled from the grass.

  Diana had the urge to end its misery, but Doug, catching her gaze, gently touched her arm, guidi
ng her to follow Connor as he forced himself to look away from the gruesome sight.

  Mounting the stairs, the three had only ascended one flight when Connor held up a fist, indicating that they stop. Doug and Diana looked at each other puzzled, but suddenly the two understood. In the distance, getting louder, was the sound of a helicopter.

  Turning to Diana, Connor leaned in and whispered.

  “Does Morrow have a helicopter?” he asked.

  “Chemcorp has one. I suppose he could be using it,” she replied quietly.

  “Then we best get moving. We need to merge with the zombies ASAP. If the helicopter see’s us, we’re in serious trouble.”

  Connor turned and moved as quickly as possible to the top of the stairs, stopping when he reached the bridge’s sidewalk at the top. As the other two joined him, he slowly scanned the distance for any sign of the helicopter. He could hear it, but it wasn’t visible yet. Wasting no time, he moved forward, starting their long, slow walk down Walnut Street.

  The pilot of the helicopter flew slowly, just a few hundred feet above the river, giving the men an easy view of the water and the shoreline as they searched for the girl. So far they had seen no sign of the boat as they crept closer and closer to the city. Passing over Route 1, the crew could see the woods of East Fairmount Park to their left as they continued on. Minutes later, they rounded a bend in the river and saw the skyline of the city, looming in the distance.

  The men in the chopper exchanged glances as the skyline grew larger, each having heard stories about the swarms of undead that reside there. As they continued on, they could see the numbers of zombies along the Schuylkill river trail increasing, going from dozens to hundreds in what seemed like a mater of moments. Minutes later, the helicopter approached boathouse row, which each man recognized from the long, thin sculls stacked near the houses.

  Suddenly, one of the men called out.

  “There! Near the dock! You see it?”

  It was Jamison that spoke up next.

  “Yes. There. At the dock. There must be at least a dozen bodies down there. Looks like they’ve been here. The kills look fresh.”

  “Any sign of the boat?” yelled another over the sound of the rotor.

  “No,” said Jamison. “But my guess is they kept going downstream. This may be a ploy to throw us off. Judging by the number of Z’s hanging out on the dock, I’m guessing they weren’t on foot when they left. Keep going. We might be getting close.”

  Rotating the helicopter, the pilot continued down river as the men soaked in the destruction that unfolded below them. Zombies began to gather along the remains of the bridges as the helicopter continued on. Thousands could now be seen from their elevated perch, all looking skyward toward the sound, hopeful of a possible meal.

  After passing over the remains of a half dozen bridges, the crew began to mumble amongst themselves, concerns about the city beginning to surface. Just then, one of the men yelled out, pointing to the river below. Ahead of them, they could see a small rowboat, similar to the ones at the docks of boathouse row, tied to a small dock at a park. As they flew closer, they could see clearly that it was empty, except for a few oars.

  Jamison looked down at the small boat and then shook his head, almost laughing as he spoke.

  “I think those crazy bastards have gone into the city.”

  Connor slowly led the three away from the bridge, heading into the heart of the city via Walnut Street. He had chosen this street because it was a direct route to the three hospitals on the east side of the city. The street was one of the main arteries in the city, and was four lanes wide with wide sidewalks. This gave the three plenty of room to move as they ventured into the massive population of undead. And massive it was.

  Moving forward, Diana felt a wave of panic well up as they began their journey. There had been twenty or thirty zombies milling about near the collapsed bridge when they reached the top of the stairs, but as they moved down Walnut Street, the density was quickly increasing. Within a block, they were walking among hundreds of undead, with nothing but a sea of zombies visible ahead of them. As they merged into the masses, they soon heard the loud sound of the helicopter as it approached their locale. Turning slowly, they watched as the large aircraft came into view and hovered over the Walnut Street Bridge, causing zombies to converge from all directions to investigate the noise. The three exchanged knowing glances as the helicopter hovered over the bridge. It had seen the rowboat, and now they knew where they got off the river.

  Connor looked at Diana and Doug and slowly turned towards a nearby building. Calmly and methodically he led the two to the recessed doorway of a restaurant. The three ducked inside, out of view of the helicopter, and waited. Connor knew that the helicopter couldn’t land without attracting hundreds of zombies to greet them, so for now, the three were safe. But the buildings near the river were relatively short, reaching only nine stories at the most. If the helicopter were to fly low along the rooftops, it could definitely spot them among the crowd of undead.

  Peering from the doorway, Connor watched as the helicopter hovered for a minute or so before turning in their direction. Rising up to rooftop height, the aircraft began a slow movement down Walnut Street, searching for the trio.

  Turning, Conner grabbed the handle of the restaurant door and pulled on it gently. To his relief the door was unlocked. As quickly as possible, the three moved inside the building, letting the door close behind them. No sooner had the door shut when they saw the helicopter pass slowly above the shorter buildings across the street.

  Doug and Diana breathed a sigh of relief, but Connor’s gaze hardened as he watched the helicopter move on. Looking around the room, the three saw only a single zombie, which was trapped behind the bar. The once pretty young bartender moved back and forth behind the counter, unable to pursue the noise that had riled it up. Her face was ashen gray, and dried blood stained her white logo shirt from the bite she had sustained during the outbreak. Most likely she had hidden behind the bar after being bitten, hoping for help to arrive. Help never came. She had turned while hiding, leaving her stuck behind the counter where she once smiled and laughed, enjoying the stories of the patrons.

  She took no notice of them, but was only interested in the sound of the helicopter, which was now fading in the distance. As the sound grew faint, the zombie’s activity lessened, until finally, with the sound now gone, the zombie just swayed in place, an empty gaze staring out across the bar.

  As the three turned to the door, it was Doug that stopped and turned around. Slowly, he walked over to the bar. Raising his sword as he approached, he stopped in front of the former bartender, looking at what the poor girl had become. The creature stared back at Doug with soulless gray eyes that seemed to look straight through him, never moving as it swayed in a trance-like state. In a flash Doug drove the sword through her mouth and out the back of her head, blood and brain matter splattering on the large mirror behind her. Pulling the sword free, the zombie dropped to the floor behind the bar as Doug grabbed a bar towel and cleaned his blade.

  Walking back to the door, he looked at Connor, who simply nodded in approval. Pushing open the door, the three stepped back outside, but as they stepped onto the sidewalk, they were greeted to a disturbing sight. Where the street was once filled with hundreds of zombies, it now contained thousands. The sound of the helicopter had drawn them from blocks away, all congregating on Walnut Street. Within moments, the street was packed full of undead, leaving almost no room to move.

  Connor’s eyes filled with anger. The bastards in the helicopter had created a swarm.