by Gill, Bonnie
Meanwhile, the other vehicles surround us. They shoot the gabbies from their windows.
"Don't shoot me!" I yell as I climb through the tiny sliding glass window in the back of the cab. The truck is rocking back and forth from the zombies. The tree limb is up too high, but there's a lower one within arm’s reach. I dig the chainsaw out of the box and hook a bungee through it. I sling it over my head and shoulder and look back at my friends and family.
Star's biting her lip while she shoots at the gabbies. A shot whizzes past me from Dean's direction. I grab onto the other branch and pull myself up. It's a good thing I used to be a tree climber when I was a kid. The branch won’t hold me for long. A loud crack sounds as I swing my legs onto it.
"Raven, is that you?" Sheriff Brophy asks.
I know the sheriff from working at Dean’s shop. He often brought his truck and patrol car in for repairs. He always asked for me to work on it. Sometimes he brought doughnuts. I like him, he's a nice guy.
I see blood on the sheriff's pant leg. "Yes, it's me. Is that a bite?"
"What?" He curls up to see his leg. "No, they shot me."
I'm hoping he means people and not the zombies. We’ll be in a whole lot more trouble if they can wield weapons. I shimmy over to the branch he's on. I realize I didn't think this through. If I cut the branch, he'll crash into the truck head first and possibly crack open his skull.
Before I can even think of a solution, Joey stands in the bed. I have no idea how he got from his car so fast, but I'm grateful. "Thanks."
He motions to hurry.
The gunfire is nonstop. I have a feeling whoever hung the sheriff up there will come back to see what all the racket is about.
I balance myself on the branch and start the chainsaw. The whirring noise gets even louder as I cut into the branch.
The gabbies are piling up around the truck into small mountains. Soon, they'll be able to climb into the bed.
The branch cracks. Joey catches the sheriff and guides him down into the bed.
I turn off the chainsaw. "Here." I hand the power tool to Joey.
“Hurry up, Raven." He's looking back and forth for company.
Yeah. No doubt, we need to move. I scramble down. "We should leave your car. Let's go."
"I can't fit through that window. Drop me next to the ." He pulls out his gun and shoots over my shoulder.
I turn and see a gabbie drop off the bed. That was close.
After wiggling through the window and climbing over the back seat, I hop into the driver's seat and pull up next to the Mustang. The others follow us as if they know what I'm doing.
Star is on the hand-held radio so they probably do. She's great at reporting information. Who'd ever think her gossip-queen status would come in handy?
Joey jumps out the back of the truck and gets into his car.
The poor sheriff is still chained up in the bed, alone.
We pull out of the police department, fishtailing and screeching our tires.
"We have company," Daria says over the radio.
I've come to hate those words. It's never good company. Lately, it's always something that wants-to-eat-you company or someone who-wants-to-kill you company.
10
I peer into my rearview mirror. Two SUVs with gabbie face hood ornaments are behind us. One honks his horn. I press the accelerator harder.
"Follow me," Vinny says over the radio. He passes everyone and turns the corner. Joey is right behind him.
I turn to Star. "How far is Joey's house from here?"
"It's not far. Do you think we should go there?" She turns in her seat and sees Dean's truck. He's keeping up with us.
"Put on your seatbelt." I swerve to miss a gabbie in a head-on collision. "I wonder what kind of booby traps they have?"
"This isn't the way to their house. They must have something planned." Star sits back in her seat and buckles up.
Helga cackles almost hysterically. The woman's insane. She still has leafy stuff stuck in her teeth, which totally grosses me out.
"What the heck is her problem?"
"It's probably stress," Star says.
"We need to give her a toothbrush and floss."
We go around another corner and toward a train track overpass.
Joey comes on the radio. "Follow exactly where we go. Do not deviate from our path. Do you copy?"
We all respond with a yes.
Anticipation pumps through my limbs. I keep to the left just like he's doing. It seems weird to drive on the wrong side of the road. I sure hope the sheriff in the back isn't set on writing tickets.
We drive under the overpass and make a hard right. I see Joey and Vinny up ahead. What the heck? They're getting out of their vehicles?
Dean pulls up next to me.
I lift my hands as if to say I have no clue.
We wait.
It only takes a few seconds before the SUV's fly underneath the structure.
Boom.
The ground shakes. The truck shakes. Everything shakes.
Chunks of concrete and rebar explode into the air. Large pieces rain down around the area where the overpass stood. The SUV's are pummeled with debris. Their roofs and hoods crush inward under broken concrete.
Vinny stands by his car and is doubled over laughing, his eyes sparkling with glee.
The concrete finally stops falling from the sky. A piece of train track soars down and spears through one of the SUVs. If they weren't dead before, they are now.
It was like Vinny knew the precise spot where the debris would fall. The chunks from the explosion fell around us. Not one of us was hit.
Joey whistles to us and climbs back into his car. He takes the lead, and we follow him.
We pass Nippersink Lake so we're getting closer to Summer Hill. I press the button on the radio. "We need to warn the safe zone about those guys."
A screeching noise comes over it, then Joey's voice. "I bet they already know. We should head to our house."
Dean comes on next. "I have to agree. Safety first. Also, we need to take a look at the sheriff's leg."
Joey and Vinny live on the lake. They have a small, brick ranch with a boat slip in their backyard. I'd hate to pay their taxes. I've checked water property rates, and it seems the taxes are three times more than regular homes. They won't have to worry about paying anymore.
Joey stands next to his car and directs me to the house to the right of his. He opens the garage door, and I pull in. My extended cab pickup barely fits, and they close the door behind us.
We exit the truck and walk around to the bed. Luckily, the sheriff is still back there, and I’m glad he didn’t bounce out.
"Those were the guys who hung me up in the tree. They killed my deputy," Sheriff Brophy says.
"We need to look at your bullet wound. Can you walk?" Star asks.
"I don't think so." He bows his head. This has to be hard for the sheriff. Guilt is written all over his face.
Joey comes into the garage. "You need some help?"
We manage to get the sheriff inside the house without causing him too much extra pain. There are a few "Ouches," and "Watch its," but overall, we don't make things worse for him.
Star retrieves her first aid bag from the truck.
Helga holds the door for us while doing a jig. I'm glad she's enjoying herself. It's not every day you're chased by madmen and gabbies.
We walk through the small kitchen to the living room. We set Sheriff Brophy on the leather couch.
He grunts.
Joey darts from room to room closing curtains and checking to make sure the house is still empty.
Star sets down her stuffed duffle bag of first aid goodies. Looking at me, Star asks, "Can you cut his pants off?"
Alex Brophy is a larger man in his fifties. I really have no desire to see him in his underwear. A shiver crosses my spine when a thought smacks into my brain. What if he's going commando? I hesitate.
"How about I just cut off his pant
leg?" I ask.
The sheriff looks relieved.
Yep. He definitely doesn’t have undies on, or he’s wearing dirty ones. I don’t want to be the one to find out. That would haunt me forever. I have no desire to see his dangly parts.
Star shoots me a glare. "Whatever. I just need access to his wound." She walks into the kitchen and turns on the water. There are scrubbing noises and then the rip of a paper towel. She comes back into the room and pulls out gauze and several other nursey things. The snap of her latex gloves signals she means business.
I find the medical scissors and get to work on the sheriff's pant leg. The material is with blood. I cut a hole in the knee and then cut upward about halfway to his thigh. He points to the bullet wound so I don't accidentally bump it. I cut the material all the way around his red and swollen thigh. The bullet hole is small with blood streaming from it.
I have no clue when it comes to treating trauma, especially bullet wounds. I look up at Star. "Should I go boil water or something?" A feeling of needing to escape overwhelms me.
Daria, Vinny, and Dean saunter into the room. They plop down into vacant seats.
Good, someone else can assist Star. "I can keep watch for gabbies outside." I pick up my rifle and head for the door.
"Thank you for saving me," the sheriff says. He's struggling to push himself into an upright position.
"You'd do the same for me," I say.
"Can someone else take watch? I'd rather have you here. I want to brief you on what’s going on," he says.
This piqued my interest. I move back into the room and sit on a chair across from him.
Star probes his leg with her finger, and he winces.
"The bullet is still in his leg. I don't think it's lodged in the bone though." Star pulls out a pair of long tweezers. "We should give you some painkillers. This is going to seriously hurt."
The sheriff holds up his hand. "Wait. The men who attacked me. They're troublemakers from the area. There's about twenty-five of them. When everything started going south fast, we were informed to let all our prisoners free. This was statewide."
My heartbeat picks up so fast, I swear it feels like a huge super ball bouncing around inside my chest. "All the prisoners? Like even the ones in the State correctional facilities?" This can’t be happening.
"Yes. They didn't want them to starve to death inside if they weren't infected." He frowns.
That means Seth isn’t in jail anymore. He can, and will, come after me. To my knowledge, he doesn’t know where I am, but it won’t take much to find us in the area. I wouldn't put it past him to already know.
Star reaches over and places her hand on my shoulder.
Dean's gaze zeroes in on me.
My world spins. First this stupid zombie stuff and now the news that Seth is free. And deep down I know he’s alive. He's too evil to die. I catch myself looking over my shoulder.
“Are you okay, Raven?" the sheriff asks.
I hold up my finger for him to wait a minute while I catch my breath. I will be okay. Seth won't know to look for me here. No one does. I raise my chin and make eye contact with the sheriff. "I'm fine. I was just putting scenarios together. This means all the state's criminals are loose and probably healthy. It's going to be a free for all out there."
"Yes. I was gathering survivors and taking them to the refugee camp. We should really head over there. You'll be safe." He studies Star as she shakes a couple of pills out of the prescription bottle. "What is that?"
"It’s Percocet. It'll make the surgery less painful," she says.
"Surgery? Are you a doctor?" The sheriff scoots away from Star.
"No, I'm a nursing student." She moves closer to him. "I need to remove the bullet, or you're going to get an infection."
"Now, hold it right there. I'm sure the soldiers have experience in removing bullets. How about we get back into the car and drive over there? Just wrap my leg in something. We can leave right now."
"We're not going anywhere. Those guys are driving around the area looking for trouble. I can hear their vehicles in the distance," Vinny says.
Joey pipes up, "Oh, and you'll want to steer clear of all the bushes outside. Stay on the paths when you go out."
Yeah, I definitely don't want to trigger his booby traps. Which reminds me. "How'd you know exactly where the debris would fall after you triggered that bomb?"
Vinny lets loose the grin of all mischievous grins. "I'm highly trained in explosives."
"Did you learn it in the military?" Daria asks.
"Something like that," he says.
Dawn is breaking over the horizon after another sleepless night.
Dean looks as if he's going to topple over. Everyone else looks the same.
Star hands the sheriff three pills and a bottle of water. "Please take them now. I promise if I don't think I can reach it, I'll stop right away."
"Why three?" The sheriff studies the pills.
"Two are for the pain, and one is an antibiotic. Take them."
The sheriff takes his meds, and washes them down with half of the bottle of water.
"I need a volunteer to help me." She purposely doesn't look at me. She knows I get woozy when she watches those medical shows on television. They start digging into someone's chest cavity, and I'm out of there. You'd be surprised by how graphic they are. One time, I saw a doctor stick his whole hand inside someone and pull out his heart. I guess they were showing how to do a transplant. I didn't stick around to see. My stomach was queasy for the next two days. It’s weird how the zombie guts doesn’t bother me like a live human’s does.
"I'll do it," Joey says as he walks over to Star.
"Wash your hands and put on some gloves. I'll need you to hand me supplies."
He goes into the kitchen, and the rest of us file out of the room.
"I guess it's our watch," I say to Dean and pat him on the back.
"You can access the roof from outside. I have a ladder laying on the ground," Vinny says.
We collect a radio, water, and some snacks before we follow him.
He points to the bushes. "Bear traps."
I make a mental note not to go anywhere near the bushes.
Dean and I lie on our stomachs behind the chimney.
I search the other yards and the road with my binoculars. I see a truck driving down the next street. They'll be able to see us out here. "Change of plans. We're sitting pigeons up here. Let’s watch from inside."
"Roger that," Vinny says.
A couple minutes pass by, and I see him getting out the ladder.
We climb down and head back inside the two-story colonial. Star and Joey are still working on the Sheriff. We head upstairs, and I notice a brown spot on the carpet.
"Where'd you put all the bodies?" I ask Vinny.
"The rundown house on the corner. We figured no one would want to go inside there."
"Good idea." I move into a guest bedroom. I assume it was a guest room because there are no clothes in the closet. The bed is perfectly made, and there's not one personal trinket lying around.
"Dean's going to be across the hallway. Do you need anything?"
"No, I'm good. Thank you." I set up my little watch camp. I lay out my rifle magazines, binoculars, and water.
Dean pops into my room after Vinny leaves. "You lost all the color in your face downstairs. Are you going to tell me why you're so rattled? Does it have to do with you walking into my shop years ago?"
I nod, not wanting to speak right now.
"You can tell me when our shift is over. We have the right to know if someone is coming after us." Dean walks out of the room.
I scan the street for over an hour before several gabbies wander up to the house. They stop and sniff the air, scenting their prey. I imagine they can smell the sheriff's blood. Most of the zombies are wearing pajamas. There's blood on the front of them, or at least I think its blood. They most likely crashed through a window to escape their house.
T
hree more join them for a total of eight. I radio in to the others. "Eight gabbies looking for a fight."
No one responds.
Another one of the undead shuffles down the block.
Joey and Vinny dash outside and slug the undead with their bats. They move in sync like they've done this a hundred times before. They both have the same dark brownish-black hair and dark eyes. They could pass for brothers. If their mothers were truly hitwomen, what was it like to grow up in that environment?
They bludgeon a woman wearing silky pajama pants and top. She sinks to the ground when Vinny gives her a final blow to her head. They look up to my window and bow.
The rest of our six-hour shift is quiet. My eyes grow heavy. I crave sleep and a cheeseburger.
Dean clears his throat behind me. "Time to go."
We travel downstairs into the living room where the sheriff is sleeping on the couch.
Star rests her arm on my shoulder. "He'll be okay. I extracted the bullet." She raises her chin.
“I’m so proud of you.” I know she wanted to be a physician, but medical school has never been in our budget.
Joey and Star leave the room and head upstairs.
I assume Daria and Vinny are taking a nap. Mrs. Garcia, Ben, and Helga aren't around either.
"Spill it," Dean says.
One thing I love about Dean is he has never interrogated me about my past. Things have changed because of the current situation. I exhale a long breath before I start. "I was in a dark place when this happened." Great. Now I'm making excuses for myself. "I met Seth in a coffee shop after work one night. He was tall, blond, and incredibly good looking, and asked to sit at my table. As we talked, I learned he was a few years older than me. We started dating, and after a few months of getting to know each other, he asked me to boost a Camaro because the guy owned him money. Since I thought I was in love with him, and I was naive, I did."
Dean reaches over and lays his hand on mine. His kind eyes encourage me to continue.
"It was a nineteen-sixty-nine Camaro, so it was easy. The next day, I started digging around and found out he was into a bunch of other illegal dealings. He sold the cars overseas, was a drug dealer, and even laundered money. I was so stupid. A few days later, he wanted me to steal another car. I refused. He beat the living crap out of me and threw me into a shipping container. You know the ones I’m talking about. They’re the big kind you see on trains. Well, he locked me inside of one of those. There was a Land Rover in there, as well as a dead guy. The idiot also had left a large toolbox inside. I found a welding torch, and I cut a hole in the side of the shipping container. After I escaped, I called the cops and gave them an anonymous tip. Then Star and I ran. They ended up convicting him and giving him eight years."
