by Radke, K. E.
Completely turning his back on Heath, he fired at the muncher’s face and the next one closest to him. Then he gave Heath one glance over his shoulder before he forced himself to flee between the buildings and disappeared.
Heath’s gaze never left the spot Murray retreated from. Eight sets of jaws snapped at him through the thin dust cloud. All of them headed straight for him. He took a step back and glanced anxiously at Wyatt, trying to keep his voice steady, “We need to move or start shooting.”
Wyatt glanced between Noah and Lincoln. If Heath bolted, they’d all be sitting ducks—and if they moved—Heath could only carry one of them. Crawling toward Lincoln because he was the closet, Wyatt shook him and slapped his face several times.
“It’s time for you to wake up,” Wyatt shouted desperately. He reached over Lincoln and shook Noah. “Noah get up. Both of you get up or we will die.”
Noah groaned first and sucked a deep breath through his teeth. He reached for his head and felt a large lump while he blinked several times to clear his vision and adjust to the light. Carefully sitting up, he felt dizzy and leaned heavily on his elbow. “Did someone say die?” he asked in a rusty voice.
Relieved Wyatt managed to wake one up, the words poured from his mouth, “You and Heath can run out the back. He can carry Lincoln and I’ll hold them off.”
Noah’s head spun at the quick directions and rolled onto his side soaking in the information before he questioned in a daze, “Who the hell is Heath?”
“The lobster man!” Wyatt shouted the first thing that came to mind when describing Heath. Annoyed Noah wasn’t grasping the grave situation, Wyatt pulled on his shirt to coax him to sit up.
“Fuck!” Noah whispered rubbing his face in tired disbelief. “I’d call bullshit, but I’ve seen dead people come back to life. Does he have pincers?” The question had no sarcastic tone and Wyatt sighed audibly with his eyes closed.
In a calm voice after a long exhale he explained, “The man with the really bad sunburn, his name is Heath.”
“What’s the plan?” Heath called to them hiding behind the wall and peeking at the hoard of cannibals on their way. They were surrounded, and more bodies were popping out of the dust cloud by the second. Croaks and grunts were rising in volume, alerting every cannibal in the vicinity to their location.
“Where’s Gloria?” Noah asked apprehensively after he sat up and surveyed the room.
Wyatt’s eyes bounced to Lincoln before he answered lowly, “I think she abandoned us.”
“All things considered, I’m surprised she stuck around as long as she did—,” Noah admitted before he was interrupted by gunfire. Abruptly on his feet he yelled, “What the fuck is going on?!” He lifted an AK off the pile of guns when Heath yelled, “Go out the back!”
“Why the fuck are you making casual conversation when we’re under attack?” Noah asked baffled collecting as many guns as he could carry and strapped the machete to his back. He was ready to bolt for the backdoor until his eyes landed on Wyatt’s broken foot, and the packs beside him. His gaze flickered to Lincoln’s motionless body and then to Heath.
“Well fuck me,” Noah said under his breath peering down at the guns in hand and slung over him. His hands were moving before his brain had processed the thought. Guns were shoved into Wyatt’s waistband and under his arm while Noah shifted the AKs to the left side of his body.
“Heath you carry Lincoln. I’ve got Wyatt. If you can manage carrying a pack too that would come in handy later if we survive,” Noah declared in a determined voice.
“You cannot carry me and all those guns at the same time,” Wyatt argued trying to hand back the Glock 17.
“Is there a little girl at home waiting for you?” Noah asked seriously bending down to get Wyatt’s arm over his shoulders not waiting for a reply.
“Heath can only carry one person and you’ll need the firepower to make it back. What you don’t need is me holding you back from a hoard of cannibals on our trail.”
“Put your goddamn arm over my shoulder and get the fuck up. I will not tell your little girl you sacrificed yourself because you were too goddamn stupid to try. And that’s fucking offensive that you think I can’t help carry you because I’m smaller than Heath. Now move!” Noah yelled with motivation and lifted Wyatt to his feet.
“You’re smaller than everyone. Wyatt should be offended you think you can actually carry him,” Lincoln groaned touching his head and wincing.
Noah kicked Lincoln in the shin and said, “Rise and shine mama’s boy. Why don’t you do us all a favor and use the energy from your dumbass mouth to suck a cock.”
“Shut the fuck up I have the hugest fucking headache,” Lincoln groaned shifting to his side.
“When we all die you’ll be pain free,” Wyatt said sarcastically.
Heath fired off several rounds before striding across the sandwich shop in three huge steps and signaled it was time to go. Lincoln refused Heath’s helping hand and swayed on his hands and knees before he slowly stood up. The grunts and hisses from outside were muffled against the ringing in his ear as he dealt with his lightheadedness.
Heath shoved a pack on his back and took Noah’s spot at Wyatt’s side and said, “You’re not going to like this, but we’ll move a lot faster this way.” Wyatt was tossed over Heath’s shoulder before he could object.
“I think I’d rather die,” Noah said under his breath chuckling at Wyatt’s shocked expression as Heath maneuvered around the broken furniture to the back door.
“If only we had a camera,” Lincoln added before his attention shot across the room at a croaking body too close for comfort. His hand fled to the empty holster at his side. Panic embraced him as the ghoul took another step forward.
Noah fired hitting it in the head and held up the Glock 17 just out of Lincoln’s grasp. More flesh eaters took its place. The dust covered bodies hobbled forward with missing limbs, and bones protruding like weapons. Some had body parts hung at weird angles, swaying with each step barely attached by the sinewy tissues and veins.
Noah limped his way to the packs and strapped his on while shooting the closest ghouls. Lincoln dragged the other two packs and leaned on anything in sight until he exited out the back.
Swerving around the corner on screeching tires, Gloria pressed on the brakes and felt the SUV skid to a complete stop right after she slammed into three walking roasted bodies. Two of them were underneath the Jeep, while the other one rolled over the hood, bounced on top of the roof and fell off the back. She played with the switches around the steering wheel until she found the one to clean the windshield.
The wipers smeared the goo back and forth making the visibility worse. Cursing loudly, she put the Jeep in gear and slowly puttered forward trying to find the men she left behind.
Heat consumed the block and she peered at the fiery source leaving charred remains in its path. The explosion had split into two fires, snaking its way through the buildings on either side of it. Completely engrossed by the view she came to a complete stop and something jabbed into her arm from outside the window.
A bone surrounded by mangled flesh with a semi-detached hand poked her again. The hand swung forward smacking her chest and left a smeared bloodstain in its wake. Teeth snapped inches away from her, its head reaching through the window before she pressed on the accelerator. The ghoul’s neck snapped, and the useless hand anchored itself in the seatbelt and fell in her lap.
Pressing on the brakes, the rotting hand flew onto the floor right next to her foot as she quickly rolled up all four windows. Two fingers picked it up before it lodged itself under the brake and she threw it behind her.
Idling for a few seconds in one spot had her surrounded by roasted bodies pounding on every side of her trying to pry their way inside. Nothing was visible beyond the windows besides hands, open mouths, licking tongues and burnt, torn skin tissue.
Sounds from the hoard were deafening. If anyone was trying to get her att
ention it was impossible for her to know. So she did the only thing she could do and waited. Peter was a determined son of a bitch and he’d get her attention one way or another.
She twisted her hands around the steering wheel nervously and tried not to count the seconds. To bide her time and stifle the rising panic of not seeing her son again, she fiddled with the radio. Static drowned out the croaks and inhuman gurgles. She never thought the sound could be so nostalgic.
Six static-filled minutes passed without interruption. Thoughts warred inside her head, each one vying for her attention. Placing her hand on the gear shifter, she moved it from park to drive and then back again—unsure if she should drive around searching for them. She decided to give them ten more minutes, but she kept her foot on the brake and her hand on the shifter just in case someone else showed up. Someone was bound to notice the giant herd of unwavering cannibals in the middle of the road.
Blood and brains splattered against the back-passenger side window. Gloria ducked in her seat and turned off the static. Some of the mindless vermin raping the windows were distracted for a moment as she turned in her seat trying to peer beyond the rotting bodies to catch a glimpse of the shooter.
Several more shots were taken, and she watched bodies fall while other ghouls were lured away.
Two hands banged against the front-seat passenger side window and Noah’s face appeared on the other side of the goo fiercely aiming his 1911 until he recognized her. He seemed relieved to see her and then pulled on the car door handle manically. As soon as she unlocked it, he swung the door open and made a sour face whispering, “Shit. What is that smell?”
“Keep complaining and I’m leaving you on that sidewalk,” she replied and narrowed her eyes. “Where’s the cheating cunt and the pretty one?”
Squeezing his nose, he hopped inside the car and softly pulled the door shut. “I can’t even be offended because the smell is so toxic. I’m pretty sure I’m about to die from the fumes.” Breathing through his mouth he focused on the next step. “Slowly back up, we don’t want them turning around,” he whispered keeping up the pretense to stay quiet. He had her stop in front of an alley and checked for any lingering ghouls.
Pushing the door open, he sprinted quietly to the lone dumpster. Heath popped out from the other side of it along with Wyatt. Noah emerged with Wyatt’s arm around his shoulders and Heath was carrying several guns slung across him and a pack on each shoulder.
Heath quickly loaded the gear and ran back down the alley. He pulled the other two packs out of hiding at the same time Wyatt reached the SUV.
“I never thought I’d be so happy to see you,” Wyatt admitted sweating profusely.
“The feeling is not mutual,” Gloria replied in a grumble but the relief in her expression betrayed her words.
Before anyone could claim it, Heath sat in the front seat, his legs cramped in the tiny space. Noah made sure everything, and everyone made it inside before he said lowly, “Wait here, I’m going to make sure—.”
Wyatt cut him off, “Peter!” He placed his hand over his mouth for being too loud and said lowly, “He’s going to make sure Peter wasn’t ambushed.”
Noah ran down the alley and turned out of sight.
Gloria drummed her fingers nervously along the steering wheel and muttered, “I feel like a sitting duck waiting to be slaughtered.”
“Can I just say thank you,” Wyatt blurted out in a tired, grateful tone. “Thank you for coming back.”
Gloria scanned Wyatt in the rearview mirror with suspicion trying to find a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but he was slumped over in his seat from exhaustion. Heath also thanked her, and she replied in a shocked low voice, “You’re welcome.”
Staying vigilant, Gloria saw two bodies sprinting up the street behind them. As they got closer she realized the small man had to be Noah.
Lincoln reached the car first and jumped inside breathing raggedly, and Noah stuffed himself next to Lincoln.
“Jesus what’s that smell?” Lincoln questioned gulping down air from all the exertion of herding walking corpses.
“That would be the sweet love of cannibals,” Gloria chuckled with a light tone. She put the car in reverse intending to go back the way she came and frowned, “Well ain’t that a bitch.”
Her rearview mirror was full of burnt bodies headed straight for them.
Only one stood out from the rest. Mixed into the crowd she spotted a filthy, shiny red coat. Its curly, black hair blended in with the extra crispy bodies, but the skin wasn’t scorched like the rest of them.
“Is that a human?” she murmured. “Alive and walking among them?”
Everyone turned in their seat to see who she was talking about.
“That would be the Prince of Pop,” Noah sighed. “Lucky bastard. He’ll take a bite out of you just like the rest of them. Just blind you first with his shiny, black glove.”
Gloria changed the gear to drive and sprung forward only to slam on the brakes. At the other end of the street where they first entered the little oasis, a huge explosion rocked the entire block in front of them.
Chunks of concrete and bodies landed a few feet away, the air filled with debris, smoke and dust. Pebbles showered the SUV making hairline cracks in the windshield. Balls of fire arced in the air like fireworks before pummeling to the ground lighting everything it touched on fire.
“Backward it is,” Gloria thought better of her first decision and changed gears again.
The Jeep slowly crept backward as the ghouls surrounded the vehicle and followed it. They licked and pounded on the windows trying to reach the fresh meat inside.
“Are they getting up?” Heath muttered shifting forward in his seat. He placed his hands on the dash and squinted, trying to see through the goo on the windshield. It didn’t seem possible for anyone to survive the giant explosion.
Wyatt and Lincoln tried to squeeze themselves through the front seats to witness the new phenomena.
Gloria pressed on the brakes because her view was blocked. “Get the fuck out of the way! I’m a little busy trying to save everyone’s ass!” She pointed out in a stressed tone.
ELEVEN
L incoln shut his eyes for several seconds before opening them again. Gloria’s mouth was moving but he tuned her out and focused on the flying body that landed on its neck a few seconds ago. Less than a minute later it stood up with its head twisted at the wrong angle. He jumped forward between the front seats and tried to see through the spread of goo across the windshield.
He thought the first few survivors that stood up—and seemed unharmed—was just pure luck. After all, he’d survived a similar blast earlier. But more bodies hit the concrete hard with a definite cracking noise. Feeling the phantom pain, he cringed at the sound and tried to find the typical, discernable indicators of an infected person.
Nothing was easily visible to prove the people ambling around were still human. Lincoln desperately pulled at the wiper switch and watched water douse the windshield. The wipers spread the thick bodily fluids around, but he refused to let go of the lever until there was a small space of clear glass he could peer through.
Smoke and dust covered most of the area. It didn’t stop several bodies with missing limbs from lifting themselves off the ground. Lincoln’s jaw dropped, and then he noticed the deafening silence. No screams of pain or orders were being given. Not one person called out for help. The last thing he witnessed was a body cut in half. Organs spilled out of the moving torso in a massive puddle of blood before his gaze fled to the noise near the hood.
Someone hit the side of the SUV and slowly turned its head. Its gray face revealed one red eye peering straight at them. The other half of its face was burned. Black as coal, the skin was permanently frozen in a grotesque expression as the melted mouth croaked. It hauled itself on the hood with shredded, bloody fingers and stared straight at Gloria. Seconds later it slammed its fist against the windshield. The hairline cracks started to lengthen like a spider weavin
g its web over the glass.
Tires screeched, and Lincoln was forced forward and then backward. Wyatt yelped in pain from Lincoln’s arm colliding with his leg and Gloria yelled, “Are you done sightseeing?” She didn’t wait for a reply and positioned herself between the seats with her hand on the steering wheel hauling ass backwards, sideswiping anyone in the way.
She slowed down when the SUV swerved from rolling over the ghouls that refused to acknowledge the vehicle would mow them down. At the end of the block Gloria turned left and headed back to the parking garage for cover.
On the second floor, she rolled down the windows and stuck her head outside to take a deep breath of air.
“You want to tell me why you’re covering your mouth and nose with your shirt?” Heath asked twisting in the front seat to confront Lincoln.
His fingers relaxed, and Lincoln’s shirt fell from his face. Everyone started asking questions at the same time, but he sat there silently, and combed through every bit of knowledge he knew about the new virus.
None of those bodies should have risen. The people who inhabited the safe haven protected the entire block. It’s possible the cannibals could have infiltrated the little oasis if the first explosion distracted the guards long enough.
But he never heard a shot.
He lifted his gaze to Heath and asked, “While I was unconscious, were they shooting?”
Everyone stopped talking at once and Lincoln had to repeat the question.
“No one was shooting at us. The only one who showed up was Murray, but he disappeared before he had a chance to figure out what happened,” Heath replied. Wyatt was nodding in agreement.
“What about down the block where they were guarding the perimeter?” Lincoln questioned and waited with anticipation for the answer.
Heath hesitated and glanced at Wyatt for a second before his eyes landed on Lincoln again. “I don’t think so. If we’d heard gunshots, I don’t think I’d be here right now. No offense, but I’m not sticking around to die.”
“I didn’t hear a damn thing and I was literally sitting there watching Heath do all the work,” Wyatt said firmly.
