by Scott Lee
Even with ZOMBIE OFF, navigating through a swarm would be extremely risky, and Connor wasn’t ready to take that risk. At least not yet. Giving a quick nod of his head, he indicated for the two to go back inside. Once they were in and the door was closed, he turned and spoke.
“Things just got a bit more complicated,” he said, a serious look on his face. “That bloody helicopter has drawn every zombie in at least a three block radius to Walnut Street. We’re going to have to find a different route to the hospitals. It would take us hours to try and wade through that swarm, and there’s no guarantee we’d even make it.”
Looking at his watch, it read 9:14. This wasn’t good. He’d figured on 30 minutes to make it to the hospitals, 45 at the most. Now they were looking at an hour at best.
Walking over to the bar, he crossed behind it and grabbed something from underneath. Seconds later he emerged from the bar carrying three bottled waters.
“I don’t know about you two, but I’m a little thirsty,” he said, tossing the other two to Doug and Diana.
“No need to carry supplies like this when its readily available,” he said.
Both Doug and Diana opened their waters and drank up, not realizing how thirsty they were. Downing it all, they set the empty bottles on a table when they were done.
“What now?” asked Doug.
Looking around, Connor spied the access door to the kitchen. Moving quickly across the room, he slowly opened the door and looked inside. The area was dark, with only the ambient glow from the dining area shedding any light into the room. From the few feet inside that he could see, the kitchen was in disarray.
Connor slowly closed the door and motioned for Doug and Diana to move to the center of the room. Once there, he quietly spoke.
“The kitchen is a mess from what I could see, and there’s no way we can navigate through there in the dark without making a ton of noise. Any undead inside would be on us in seconds and we wouldn’t stand a chance. Using the flashlights is also out of the question because if there are zombies in there, they’d be drawn to the light. Without knowing numbers, it’s to great a risk.”
“Then what do we do?” whispered Diana
“Doug, you hold the door open and I’ll make some noise. If there are any zombies inside, they should come for the sound. Stay behind the door and out of sight as they come through. When they enter the room, everyone stay still until they’re all in here. After a minute, slowly move through them into the kitchen. From there we can use the flashlights to watch for any trailers as we make our way to the back exit.”
The two nodded in agreement as Connor moved into position on the far side of the room. Diana stayed put next to the table as Doug headed for the kitchen door. On Connor’s signal, Doug opened the door. A moment later, Connor banged his machetes together four times, the noise ringing through the quiet bar like a loudspeaker. A few seconds passed before they heard the telltale moans of the undead rising from the darkness. The sound of metal scraping on the floor, accompanied by the shuffling sound of dragging feet, reminded Diana of a scene in a horror movie, only this time she was in it.
As the three stood motionless, the first of the undead emerged from the doorway, its eyes scanning the dimly lit room for any sign of food. As it staggered into the room, two more hideous forms appeared behind it, followed by a dozen more.
Diana anxiously watched as the zombies poured through the door. Some were dressed in kitchen attire, while others had waitress or busboy aprons on. Some were clearly patrons. The majority were still fully functional, and that made them quicker. Within seconds the room was filled with undead. As Diana watched in horror, she reached for the table to steady herself. The movement proved costly. As she reached out, she inadvertently knocked over the plastic water bottles that had been placed there just minutes before. Two of the bottles rolled to the edge and fell to the floor, bouncing on the hardwood. Instantly the zombies locked onto the noise and advanced.
In a flash Connor was on the move, shedding his supply bag as he tried to draw the attention of the zombies as they moved forward. Seven of the undead responded, heading his direction, while the remainder continued to close in on Diana. Stumbling backwards, she pushed tables and chairs in front of her in an effort to slow the advancing horde. Despite her efforts, the undead continued to advance, and moments later they were upon her as she scrambled to keep a table between them. The leading zombie hit the table and lunged forward, sprawling out on top of it. Without hesitation, she slammed the spike end of her weapon into its head, pulling it out quickly as another rushed forward. The flesh eaten waitress moaned in anticipation as it moved around the right side of the table, closing on Diana much quicker than she had expected. Swinging her tomahawk, she slammed the spike into the side of its head as it dove forward, dropping the creature to the ground, but pulling her off balance in the process.
Diana stumbled as the creature fell, her feet tripping on a chair, sending her falling to the floor next to the corpse. In seconds the undead were upon her, their rotted mouths opened wide as they moved forward, ready to tear flesh from bone.
The first of the zombies dove for her throat as she let go of the weapon and held both hands up in defense. Her hands grabbed its shoulders, pressing it back as her thumbs dug into the rotting flesh as she struggled to keep it away. A second zombie appeared behind the first and dropped down, ready to sink its teeth into her shoulder.
Diana screamed and closed her eyes as she braced for the searing pain that was to come, knowing this was the end. A split second later, a dull thud, followed by a cracking sound preceded the spray of liquid she felt across her face. Instead of the searing pain, she felt the weight of a body fall against her side, while the zombie in her arms went limp.
Opening her eyes, she saw a large knife protruding from the skull of the zombie on top of her, while Doug stood over the other, a bloody sword hanging at his side.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said, grabbing the zombie above her and tossing it to the side.
Doug reached down and grabbed her hand, helping her off the floor. Looking to her left, she saw Connor stepping over the bodies of a half dozen zombies as he retrieved his bag and made his way towards her, his weapons dripping with blood and gore. As he arrived at her side, he reached down and pulled his knife from the zombie’s skull, cleaning the blade on its clothes before sliding it back into its sheath.
“You OK?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine. Just a little shaken up,” she replied.
“Try and be a little more careful next time,” he said as he walked away.
Diana lowered her head in shame. She knew she nearly got them killed, and they had only just started the mission.
“Don’t worry about it,” smiled Doug. “Everyone makes mistakes. Just learn from it and you’ll be fine.”
Diana managed a weak smile as she tried to regain her composure.
Pulling out his knife, Doug leaned down and pulled the M48 from the zombie next to her. Setting it on a table, he carefully scratched two small lines into the handle. Handing it back, he smiled.
“Just like with the old fighter planes. Gotta keep track of those kills.”
Connor just shook his head in amazement and walked back to the bar where he grabbed a clean bar towel and tossed it to Diana. He grabbed two more for himself and Doug.
“Those are for the weapons,” he said. Don’t try and wipe off the zombie splatter. It might wipe off the ZOMBIE OFF.
“You mean I have to leave this disgusting stuff on me?” Diana exclaimed.
“For the time being,” replied Connor, his face showing no sign of emotion.
Looking at his watch, he sighed. It was now 9:30 and they still had a long way to go.
“Break time’s over, boys and girls. Let’s get moving,” he said, heading for the kitchen.
Doug and Diana followed close behind him as he approached the kitchen door. Turning on the fla
shlight, he turned to the others.
“Don’t let your guard down. There could still be crawlers in there, so keep the weapons at the ready. New marching order. Doug, you and I take point. Diana, you stay close behind us. If we encounter more zombies, give us room.”
Diana simply nodded in response. She had no problem steering clear of the undead, especially after her last encounter.
Pushing open the swinging door, Connor shined the flashlight around the room, looking for any sign of the undead. As the beam panned the darkness, it revealed a kitchen full of stainless steel covered in blood. The room looked like a tornado had hit it, with overturned shelves and pots and pans strewn everywhere. Gore splattered walls and countertops covered with bloody handprints were a sobering reminder of the carnage that took place here. As the group moved carefully through the room, they watched for any sign of movement. Nothing.
Keeping close to the wall, Diana was passing the door to the freezer when her left foot shot out from under her as she hit a patch of spilled cooking oil. Out of instinct, she reached out and grabbed for something to break her fall, her hand clamping onto the freezer door. As she grabbed the handle, she fell backward, pulling the latch and launching the door open.
Stumbling to the floor, she looked up to see a dark shape appear in the doorway, it’s leaning gate a clear sign of the living dead. Pushing herself backwards on hands and feet, she had only moved a short distance before she hit one of the stainless steel counter/shelf assemblies. As the creature lurched forward, she tried to scream, but nothing came out. Frantically she reached for her weapon, but it had slid away in the fall. As the zombie closed in, once again the flash of a sword saved her life as the top of the zombie’s head was cleaved off in one swing.
Looking up, she saw Doug standing above her, his hand extended once again.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he smiled.
But instead of taking his hand, Diana’s foot shot out and kicked him in the chest, sending him staggering backwards. Rolling to her left, she grabbed her fallen tomahawk and rolled to her knees. Lunging forward, she drove the axe blade deep into the head of the legless zombie that had appeared behind Doug just seconds before.
Doug, gasping for breath, looked at the zombie, then looked at Diana. Straightening up, his smiled had vanished. Walking over to her, he helped her up and pulled her in, wrapping her in a huge bear hug.
“You saved my life. Thank you,” he said as he held her for a few more seconds.
Letting her go, Diana stepped back, a weak smile on her face.
“Now we’re even,” she said. “So can we get the hell out of here now. Please?”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Connor, walking up to the two. “The back door is over there. Let’s get out of this zombie pit.”
Jamison looked out over the zombie filled street as the helicopter swept low above the buildings. The number of undead was still sparse enough that he’d be able to spot the three fugitives if they were walking among them. First off, they’d be the ones with little clothing on, because they’d have to be wearing ZOMBIE OFF.
At this point, they didn’t even know for sure how many people had helped her out on the boat. The team that chased her to the bank of the river said they saw two for sure, but that was all. At this point, they’d be watching out for three or four people. Jamison’s guess was three.
As the chopper made its slow progression down Walnut Street in search of the girl, the men could see the zombies beginning to mass as they were drawn to the sound.
After six blocks of searching the street, Jamison indicated for the pilot to take them higher. As the helicopter climbed, the men watched below as the zombies swarmed. Within minutes the streets below the helicopter were flooded with undead.
“Follow this street to the east. I want to know why they chose here to get off the river,” he barked. “No one comes to the city unless they have to. They came here for a reason. They need something. I want to know what.”
The pilot headed east along Walnut, moving at a steady pace high above the buildings. From their vantage point they could clearly see City hall as they passed over Broad Street, continuing their eastward track. Suddenly, Jamison yelled for the pilot to stop.
“Bingo!” he yelled. “I think I know where they’re headed.”
Conner slowly opened the back door of the kitchen, allowing the bright sunlight to flood into the room. Holding their hands up to their eyes, the three took a moment to allow their vision to adjust to the bright daylight. After a few seconds, their eyes adjusted and they took a look around.
The door exited into a back alleyway that accessed the back entrances to the row of buildings off Walnut Street, plus the backside of the row houses on the next street over.
Stepping out into the sunshine, the three looked up the alley, surveying the situation. The buildings weren’t of uniform depth, so the alley varied in width over the course of the block. A handful of cars were parked behind the buildings, but the area was relatively clear. Except, that is, for the zombies. Compared to Walnut Street, the alley was sparsely populated with undead. About forty zombies were milling about the alley, still worked up from the sound of the helicopter. This was a number they could deal with.
With a few hand gestures, Connor indicated the original marching order and the three set off in the direction of the hospitals. Navigating the zombies in the alley wasn’t a problem. There was plenty of space to move, so they only had to keep a steady pace to not draw attention to themselves.
When they reached 22nd Street, the density of undead increased sharply. Being a larger street, 22nd was a conduit for the zombies as they migrated towards Walnut where the helicopter had passed. Although the numbers were high, they weren’t impassible.
As they looked upon them, Diana couldn’t help but view it as some bizarre, horrific parade of the dead. Men, women, and children of all shapes and sizes wandered forward, their tattered and weathered clothes hanging from their pale, sometimes rotting skin. Some were missing body parts, while others showed only a single bite.
What was once a young man staggered by, his left forearm chewed down to the bones, the flesh of his cheek shredded. One after another the gruesome sights marched by, their mouths open as their haunting moans called out to one another, each moving with a single, common goal - to feed.
Looking at the other two, Conner gave a nod and walked slowly into the mass of zombies, Diana and Doug following close behind. Moving through the swarm was like moving through a crowded store on Black Friday. The three were repeatedly bumped and often forced to move with the flow before advancing any further towards the far sidewalk.
The distance across the street was no more than forty feet, but it seemed like a mile within the mass of undead. Grotesque and distorted faces appeared all around them, just inches away at times, their foul stench penetrating even the special balm that Connor had made them apply beneath their noses.
Diana felt a wave of nausea welling up inside her as a particularly putrid zombie staggered by, it’s entrails hanging out of a stomach torn open by undead hands. To vomit now would be the end of her, as the sound and motion would reveal her presence, leaving her exposed in the middle of the swarm. She would be torn to pieces in seconds.
Focusing on Connor, she held the feeling at bay and soldiered on, pressing through the mass until she finally reached the far sidewalk, her face as pale as those of the dead she had just passed through. Tucking in next to the parking lot fence, Connor and Diana waited as Doug made his way through. Slowly pushing through the edge of the mob, Doug was almost out when his foot hit the curb, causing him to drop to one knee. Connor and Diana held their breath, watching in horror as the zombies immediately around him slowed and looked. Without hesitation, Doug regained his feet and shambled forward, moving with the flow, giving his best zombie imitation. The nearby zombies turned and moved with him, still oblivious to the living person that
walked among them. Twenty feet up, Doug moved out from the mass and leaned against the fence, a look of relief on his face as he slowly made his way back to Connor and Diana.
Once Doug had rejoined the group, the three turned and headed down the next back street, Chancellor, as they continued to parallel Walnut. This street was much the same as the alley they had just come from in that it provided access to the rear of the buildings around it. After a short distance, Connor stopped and turned to Doug.
“You do realize you didn’t have to act like a zombie back there,” he said smiling.
“I’m sorry, but it was instinct. I couldn’t help myself,” replied Doug, somewhat embarrassed.
“I thought it was a very good zombie impression,” whispered Diana.
“You think so?” said Doug, the smile returning to his face.
“Seriously guys?” said Connor as he turned and walked away.
Doug and Diana just looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders as they followed after him.
As before, the street was filled with a lesser amount of zombies, making it easily navigated as they continued on. Reaching the end of the street, they intersected yet another alley, which led them to the junction of 21st Street.
Despite the high concentration of zombies, this street was much smaller than 22nd, making it much easier to cross. Chancellor Street continued on the other side, and the group made good progress as they ventured forward.
Reaching 20th, the side street ended, forcing them to head south. As with the other numbered streets, 20th was filled with hundreds of undead, all going the opposite direction of the three. Traveling was slow, but they made it the half block and turned onto Locust Street. The majority of undead had filtered onto the numbered streets by now, leaving even the larger east/west streets like Locust relatively clear. Moving forward, they saw trees in the near distance. Stepping into a doorway, Conner gathered the two next to him and whispered quietly.
“That’s Rittenhouse Square up ahead. It’s an open park, so no telling what we’ll see in the way of zombies.”
Looking at his watch, it read 9:50.
“Time is of the essence. Let’s move.”
Stepping from the doorway, the trio continued on until they reached the park. Looking across at the tree-covered land, the three exchanged glances. The area was overrun by zombies. Without hesitation, Connor turned right to skirt the park, wanting nothing to do with the throngs of undead that wandered the tall grass and weeds. It took an extra few minutes, but the three made it safely to the other side and were soon continuing down Locust Street.
By now they were getting pretty good at navigating the waves of undead, and soon they were nearing Broad Street. Fortunately for the three, the helicopter had abandoned its low ceiling search before it reached this point, and the largest street in the city was relatively clear. Crossing Broad proved to be no issue, and once on the other side, Connor checked his watch.
10:15.
“Shit,” he muttered in his head.
Diana and Doug saw the look on Connor’s face after he checked his watch, prompting them to do the same. Seeing the time, both were equally worried at the amount of time it had taken to get to this point. Looking to Connor, he had already read their minds. Holding up five fingers, he pointed east.
Five blocks to go.
“They’re heading for the hospitals,” smiled Jamison. “I’d bet my paycheck on it.”
“If you’re wrong, you’ll be betting your life on it,” said the pilot.
“Trust me, I’m not wrong. There are only a few things that would cause someone to become desperate enough to go into the city, and medicine is one of them.”
“You got a point,” nodded the pilot.
“We got ZOMBIE OFF on board?” asked Jamison.
“Of course,” answered the pilot.
“Then set us down where I tell you, and bring us in fast. When we touch down, cut the engine as quickly as possible. We don’t want to stir up the zombies in the hospital any more than we have to. Once we’re out, we’ll spray ourselves down and wait for our friends.”
Jamison pointed to a group of buildings in the distance.
“Take us there,” he said, a cruel smile crossing his face.
The trio made good time over the last five blocks, sticking to Locust Street and arriving at 9th Street at 10:30. Now, however, Connor stood at the intersection, looking around intently. For two solid minutes he stood at the intersection. Watching. Waiting.
Finally, Doug walked up next to him and leaned in close.
“You OK buddy?” he asked in a soft whisper.
Connor looked over at his friend and whispered in reply.
“What’s wrong with this picture.”
Doug’s gaze wandered across the area surrounding the intersection. There weren’t nearly as many zombies as they’d been encountering elsewhere along their route, but he viewed that as a good thing. Turning to Connor, he shrugged, a confused look on his face. By now Diana had joined them, also confused as to why they weren’t moving.
“Look again, my friend,” he whispered.
Doug took another look around, his eyes going wide as he suddenly realized what he had missed before.
Connor nodded when he saw Doug’s face.
“Now you see,” he whispered.
“See what?” asked Diana quietly.
“The zombies,” replied Doug.
“What about them?” she whispered.
“What do they all have in common?” Connor asked.
Diana looked closely at the scattered zombies in the area, and she suddenly saw it. Every zombie in the vicinity was a trailer. A slow mover that’s always at the tail end of a group or horde. And there was another thing. Every one of them was moving south.
“Where are they all going?” she whispered, a concerned look on her face.
Connor turned and looked at her, his brow furrowed in anger.
“They’re going the same place we are. Pennsylvania Hospital.”
“But why?” she asked.
This time it was Doug who answered.
“Because that’s where the helicopter landed.”
