by Urban, Tony
That bought a cheer from Denny and Lonnie. Caspar only watched with blank, emotionless eyes.
“Are you ready?”
Lonnie hit his air horn as an answer. The others followed.
Saw returned to his dump truck, shifted it into gear and drove onto the ice. It held.
In his rear-view mirror, he saw the others follow. Casper first, then Lonnie, with Denny bringing up the rear. They fanned out so the four vehicles were in a mostly straight row.
Saw shifted again, picking up speed. He could feel the wheels slipping under him but that only made him drive faster.
The other trucks followed suit, barreling across the ice and rapidly closing in on the island. White clouds of displaced snow rose around them like a fog that chased them as they drove, obscuring the bottom halves of the trucks and making the rigs look as if they were floating across the frozen lake.
Saw could feel his pulse pounding, could hear it in his ears. He’d been wanting this fight for months. Ever since he saw the island for the first time. Whether they had twenty cans of soup or enough food and supplies to last a decade didn’t matter to him. His men might want their provisions, but all Saw cared about was battling men who could fight back. He’d grown bored with the zombies who were too stupid to even care when you killed them. He wanted - needed - to cause pain. It had been too long.
About three fourths of the way to the island, Saw caught Lonnie’s rig swaying to his left. That quickly escalated as the truck jackknifed and the trailer spun around. When he took a closer look, he realized what was happening. The ice under Lonnie’s truck was giving way. The tires shrieked against the ice, spewing wet clouds as it ripped through the surface.
“It’s breaking, Saw! I’m gonna fall through!” Lonnie’s voice squawked through the CB radio.
Jimmy’s voice, full of panic, crackled through the speaker. “Saw, we’ve got to help him!”
Saw looked sideways and saw Jimmy’s rig slowing down and veering toward Lonnie. He grabbed his CB and pulled it to his mouth, his lips pressed against the cold plastic. It tasted like stale cigarettes.
“Don’t slow down, no matter what happens!” He pushed his own gas pedal until it wouldn’t go any further, the diesel engine roaring and the pipes belching jet black smoke into the air.
The cab of Lonnie’s 18-wheeler dropped and, even over the screaming of his own truck and Lonnie on the radio, Saw could hear the ice break. The next second, Lonnie’s rig was gone and a puddle of dirty water erupted from the ragged hole like a wet belch.
Lonnie’s squalling continued over the radio and Saw heard Jimmy’s voice consoling him and crying as Lonnie went down. He shut off the radio, not interested in the conversation.
To his right, Casper sped along beside him undeterred.
Within minutes the island was in sight and the gate was wide open.
Good boy, Mitchy. I knew I could count on you.
“I’ll lead the way, boys,” Saw said into the CB. The remaining two trucks fell back and Saw drove through the gate. He spotted a lump of a human form sprawled in the snow and grinned. Yep, very good boy.
The tractor trailers entered behind him. The snow was two feet deep but the convoy plowed through it, speeding straight ahead until it reached the center of camp. The spectacle of their arrival had drawn the attention of a dozen or so men and women. Two of them ran but the others stared ahead, shocked and curious and too stupid to move.
Saw jumped out of the dump truck, landing in a puff of snow. He looked at them. “Ladies. Gentlemen. My name is Solomon Baldwin but all me friends call me Saw. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Another person, a middle-aged man, ran, dashing toward one of the several buildings which were laid out to form something like loose concentric circles.
Saw looked behind him and saw Casper and Denny waiting. “He must of heard of me.”
Denny laughed. Casper stared blankly ahead.
“Aw right, boys. Let’s get this party started.”
Saw pulled out his pistol and shot the running man in the back. He fell into a snow drift, then tried to crawl away on his hands and knees.
Caspar and Denny threw open the doors at the rear of their trailers. Then they slammed their hands into the outer walls, banging the aluminum like they were playing the bongos. Saw could hear movement inside. The more his men beat the walls, the louder and more agitated the creatures inside grew.
The first zombie that dropped free was a woman with spiked, red hair. She got up from the snow and looked around like a tourist in some exotic land. Then she saw one of the islanders and headed toward him.
More zombies followed. They poured out of the trucks in a way that reminded Saw of how cartoons depicted lemmings going over cliffs. There were around eighty in all and they hadn’t eaten for weeks, Saw had made sure of that. He wanted them good and hungry.
“Now while my zombie friends ‘ere get their feet under them, let me explain how this works. You folks can either stay here and do whatever I can tell you to do, or you can run, in which case then you’ll get eaten. The choice is yours.”
A woman sprinted away. Two others followed. The best part, Saw thought, was that there was nowhere to go. They thought they were safe on this island. Only now did they realize they were trapped.
Casper poked a few zombies in the back with a makeshift spear and sent them in the direction of the runners.
The other islanders stayed.
Saw smiled at them. “Wise decision.” He turned to Denny and motioned to a wood sided building. “Put them in there.”
Denny shuffled them toward it.
Saw turned to Casper. “Break down the door to every other building on the island. We want our horde to have free reign.”
Casper kicked open the door to an Airstream camper. A man inside screamed as two zombies charged through the opening.
Overhead, a siren started to wail. Saw grinned. “They put some music on for us, mates. How considerate.”
The man who’d been in the Airstream fell out the open doorway. His right arm was spurting blood from several large bite wounds. The zombies followed him back into the snow and descended upon them. Saw took in the chaos surrounding him, proud as could be of what he’d started.
When she stepped into the laboratory, Ramey couldn’t understand what she was seeing. The men and women who roamed through the white room were zombies, but unlike any she’d seen before. They were mutated and mangled, their bodies cut apart and sewn together like someone had snipped photos from a magazine, torn them to pieces, then taped them back together haphazardly.
She gasped when she saw them, but when she noticed her father’s behavior, the situation turned even worse and more bizarre. He looked at them, not with fear or disgust, but with pride. He was beaming with it.
“What the hell have you been doing down here?”
Doc turned to her, a lunatic’s smile on his face. “Creating, of course. Aren’t they grand?”
He’s gone mad.
Ramey wondered when it happened. He couldn’t have always been this crazy. Surely, she would have noticed. She couldn’t have been that blind, could she?
Doc moved away from her toward the corner of the lab where a plastic tote sat on metal shelving unit.
A zombie with two heads came toward Ramey. She stumbled backward.
“Don’t be afraid of them. I’ve removed all their teeth. They’re harmless as kittens.”
She looked closer and saw their lips curved inward over empty gums. “I can’t believe this is what you’ve been doing all these months. You’re sick.”
“What would you have suggested I do, Ramey?”
“Why not try to find a cure?”
Doc turned to face her. “Oh please. Do you really think it was just some happy coincidence that I built the Ark mere years before the zombie apocalypse? You’re smarter than that Ramey.” He stepped toward her, clutching the towels. Ramey stepped back.
“I don’t want to cure the disease.
I made it.”
Ramey’s mind was reeling. He did this? Everyone who had died? It was all because of her own father. She couldn’t comprehend it. She realized she was crying.
“Why would you do this? To prove you’re smarter than everyone? To be infamous? Or did you hate everyone that much?”
“What’s the point in limiting myself to just one?”
Doc sat back against the counter. “Really, Ramey, tell me why what I did was so wrong? Mankind before the plague was already lost. You had religions blowing up people because their messiah promised them sex with virgins. You had maniacs running countries, starving their own citizens. People like your mother were so pathetic that they’d sell their own bodies to get whatever they needed to feed their addictions. They spent more time looking at memes on their phones than talking to people they supposedly loved. People didn’t value each other. Humanity desperately needed a wakeup call and I gave it to them.
Ramey couldn’t handle the sound of his voice. The noise made her want to puke. The sight of him was even worse, because in his face she could see herself. “I hate you.”
“I’ll add you to the list.”
Ramey turned to the door. She’d had enough, heard enough. Her fingertips hit the lock and started to turn it.
“Ramey, one more moment, please. That’s all I ask of you.”
Go. Run. Don’t listen to him.
But she turned around.
Doc held up a bundle of towels and she realized the towels were swaddling a baby. Doc had raised a red bottle to its lips and it drank.
“This is my greatest achievement thus far. She was born just a few hours ago.”
“Oh my God. Are you feeding it blood?”
Doc bobbed his head. “She can eat meat in small amounts, but I believe this provides more nourishment.”
Ramey got closer. She could see the baby now. The black veins standing out against its pale skin, the wispy bits of hair that sprouted from its head, its cheeks as they sunk it and puffed out with each sucking mouthful and swallow.
She grabbed Doc’s hand, the one that held the bottle and tried to pull it away. “Stop it! You can’t do this!”
The baby opened its eyes. They were gray and lifeless, yet somehow, still hungry.
Ramey’s breath caught in her throat when she saw them.
Doc looked down on the baby, smiling. “She has her father’s eyes.”
Ramey looked at the zombies that wandered about the room and found the one with its stomach shredded. She realized it had given birth, if you could call it that, to this monstrosity. She couldn’t imagine how that was even possible.
Doc motioned to a gurney where another zombie was strapped to a table. There was a barely noticeable incline in its profile at the midsection. “That one is Phillip’s breeder. She’s two months along now! I’m hoping it’s a boy. They can be the Adam and Eve of the new world.”
Ramey had seen enough. She turned to run, but as she did a red light flipped on, bathing the white room in its crimson luminescence. A moment later, the siren wailed.
Chapter 48
The sirens woke Mina from a sound sleep and she bolted upright in bed.
“The zombies are back, Birdie. This time they’s gone eat you,” her father’s voice said.
She realized he might be right. The last time the siren went off, it was because of zombies. Then, Wim and Delphine saved the day but could that possibly happen again? Sooner or later their luck was bound to run out. In many - most - ways, her luck had run out a long time ago.
She wrapped the sheet around herself as she moved from her bedroom, across the narrow hall to Emory’s room. The door was closed and she lightly rapped her knuckles against it.
No response came.
She knocked again. “Emory? Don’t you hear that?
No answer.
Emory wasn’t normally a sound sleeper. He was an early riser too which made the fact that he was still in bed unusual. Mina turned the knob, eased the door open, and saw the room was empty.
His bed either hadn’t been slept in or he’d already made it. She hoped the latter as she moved up the hall and into the kitchen.
There was no coffee brewing. No dirty cups in the sink.
This is bad.
“Damn right its bad. Zombie’s got him just like the got your last boyfriend.”
“Shut up!” She screamed out loud.
In her head, her daddy laughed and laughed.
Mina grabbed a jar of pickles from the countertop and hurled it against the wall. Juice and glass and bits of exploded gherkins flew through the air, covering everything from the floor to the ceiling in the tiny kitchenette. Mina knew she’d have to clean up the mess and that just made her angrier.
She reached for a plate. Why stop now? But noise outside the trailer drew her attention. She realized Emory must be outside, listening to her throw a tantrum like a crazy person. She didn’t bother with the plate and instead moved to the door.
As Mina opened it, she expected to see Emory’s wrinkled, kind face but instead she saw zombies. Half a dozen of them. Their faces unfamiliar except for the fact that they were dead. Mina stumbled backward, slamming the door closed.
“Told ya, Birdie! But you never did listen to your daddy.”
Mina closed her eyes. She was imagining this. It wasn’t real. Maybe it was a dream and she’d wake up again in her bed only this time everything would be quiet and the smell of brewing coffee would fill her nostrils. That’s right, only a dream. Nothing to be scared about.
Hands banged against the thin metal door of the mobile home. More joined it. Soon it was like a band of undead drummers hammering away.
Mina realized it wasn’t a dream but she still kept her eyes closed.
Wim was a hundred yards from the center of camp, cresting a small bluff when he saw the tractor trailers. He realized the siren had nothing to do with his Viking-esque send off for his friend. The Ark was under attack.
In the distance, he could see people running. But there were too many. There were no more than forty people left on the Ark. He saw two times that many figures. Maybe three. He squinted, trying to make out details but the distance was too great for his aging eyes to find any. But he knew whatever was happening was bad.
He made his way to Delphine’s cabin. The door hung ajar and he crept toward it with caution. For once, he was happy to have snow because it muffled the sound of his approach. He listened carefully but could hear nothing aside from the siren. Wim took a deep breath and stepped into the cabin.
He realized he was alone. The cabin looked ransacked and her cache of firearms was strewn across the floor. Wim wasn’t sure how many she’d had before this, but all the pistols and revolvers were gone. All that remained were three rifles and a shotgun. He took a bolt action Remington 770, loaded it, and shoved as many .30-06 cartridges into his pockets as would fit. He wasn’t as comfortable with that particular firearm as he’d been his Marlin, but if the scope was sighted in, he thought it more than capable.
Wim left the cabin and went back to the overlook. He leveled the rifle toward camp and peered through the scope. He gasped as he realized the new additions to camp weren’t people, but were instead zombies. He then looked to the tractor trailers. Even though he wasn’t a scholar like Emory, it only took him a moment to realize what happened.
Who would bring zombies here and set them loose like attack dogs? His next thought was to wonder where Ramey was. As soon as that came to mind, he recalled Delphine telling him he was selfish. Maybe he was, but he knew everyone on the Ark was in danger right now and he had to trust that Ramey could handle herself, at least for a little while.
He lined the crosshatch of the scope over the face of a zombie and shot. It fell. He pulled back the bolt handle to eject the spent cartridge, fed in a new round, then locked the bolt back in place. He aimed, shot, and killed another zombie. Then the whole process started over again.
Casper herded a group of men and women toward
Saw. There were eight altogether, five men and three women. One of them caught his eye. She looked to be around 40 and was thin as a twig but had a look in her eyes that was different from the others. It wasn’t the blank defeat he’d already grown familiar with. There was life there, and maybe rage. Saw always liked his women feisty and as she passed by, he grabbed her forearm.
“Aren’t you a pretty bird?”
Her head snapped toward him eyes blazing. Oh yes, he liked this one. “What’s your name, love?”
She tried to pull away but had no chance of breaking Saw’s grip. Saw dragged her closer, their faces inches apart. “I asked you a question.”
“My name’s Wilhelmina.”
“Ah. So, are you a Wilma or a Billie?”
“I’m a Mina.”
“Very pretty. Please to meet you, Mina. My name’s Solomon but you can call me Saw.”
He released her expecting her to run. But she didn’t. She stared at him. Saw motioned to Casper. “Put them inside.”
Casper pushed them toward a cabin which had become a makeshift holding area but, before he made it all the way there, a zombie ten yards from them collapsed. It took Saw seeing the blood around its head to realize it had been shot. He hadn’t even heard the gunshot over the air raid siren.
Fookin’ thing’s giving me a headache. He’d need to shut that off soon but now he was curious who’d just killed one of his zombies. Before he could even begin to formulate a plan, another fell. Saw spun around, looking in every direction but couldn’t see anyone with a gun.
A third zombie hit the ground. Saw could feel his pulse quicken. His face felt hot and his palms tingled. Now this was the excitement he’d been craving. He clapped his hands together.
“Heads up, mates. We’ve got ourselves a war!”
Casper closed the cabin door, locking Mina and the others inside. He took out a pistol of his own and Saw thought he saw emotion on the pale man’s face for the first time. Panic.
