by Gill, Bonnie
"Oh my gosh," Star says as she sees what we're up against.
"We're going to get them out." I reassure her, patting her on the shoulder.
"How?" she asks. And that's the jackpot question of the day.
Dean and Daria walk over to us.
"Holy crap," Daria says.
"Any ideas?" Dean asks.
Everyone looks at me like I'm the Martha Stewart of rescue planning. I shake my head.
Star looks through the binoculars. "I can see them. They're on top of the building. Look." She hands the binoculars back to me.
Sure enough, they're on the flat roof. Vinny is flipping off the horde.
"We can distract the gabbies, while someone gets them down," I say. How's that for my brilliant plan?
"We can use the trucks," Daria says.
"No. There's too many. They'll gridlock us. How many rounds did we pack?" Dean asks.
"I think we have about a thousand," Star says.
Dean raises his eyebrows.
"Well, you said to pack plenty of ammo. We didn't want to run out." She looks at me and smirks. Yep, my paranoia is rubbing off on her.
"Okay, do you think we can get onto the roof of the car dealership? We can shoot at the gabbies from there. Did anyone bring the heavy paracord?"
"There's some in the bug-out bags," Daria says.
"Good. Empty the packs, and fill them with ammo and the cord. We'll need to find a ladder. We can check some of these garages for one," Dean says.
"Can we let them know we're here?" Star asks.
"Let’s wait until we're ready. If you make noise, it's going to trigger the gabbies into a frenzy. Then we'll have a hard time getting onto the roof," Dean says. He has a point. “We could also end up stranded. Once we start shooting, it'll attract the zombies. You never know how many are lurking around the town.”
"We can move the truck closer so they can jump off. It's only a six-foot drop," I say.
"Who's going to run into that mob to do it? And should you succeed, what if the keys aren't in the truck?" Dean asks. He’s full of good suggestions today.
"Okay, how about if you guys go up on the roof and clear a path for me to the truck? We'll just have to hope they left the keys inside," I say.
"No. We can’t plan on hope. Besides, one bump to the ribs, and you'll be out of commission," Dean says.
"I'll go," Star says.
"No," Dean and I say together.
"I'll go. I'm small, and I can fit underneath the truck if I have to," Daria says.
"No. You can't drive a stick shift. It has to be me or Dean. And, Dean, I hate to say this, but you're too slow. I can do this. I feel good. Just cover me." My ribs feel okay. I'll be able to move if I need to.
Dean slams his lips together and gives me a tight nod.
"Good. Now let's find a ladder," I say.
We check five garages before we find a ladder tall enough to reach the top of the car dealership. I find a pair of wire cutters. We put the ladder into the back of my pickup, and I drive through the neighbor's yard that backs up to the dealership. Everyone gets out, and we set the ladder against the fence. I climb up and cut the barbed wire on top with wire cutters. Daria is over next. Dean and Star heave the ladder over the fence and climb the chain links. I keep watch for zombies. We bring the ladder to the back of the dealership, still out of the sight of the horde. A few box trucks sit for sale in the parking lot.
"Guys, look." I point to the trucks. "We can use one of those instead."
"Now you're thinking. We'll need to get inside and find the keys," Dean says.
And that'll be the tricky part. Usually, dealerships keep the keys hidden in a locked panel. I used to work for a dealership before I met Dean. “I may be able to find them. We can break in and look for the keys."
We place the ladder against the building. I try the big metal door next to it. Locked. Of course, because nothing is going to run smoothly in the apocalypse. We try all the doors on the backside. No luck. We may have to break a window, but it’ll be noisy. I pull out my wrench from my backpack, and before anyone can object, I break the large panel of glass. The noise is loud, especially since the only other noise is the moaning of the gabbies.
Star peeks around the building to see what's going on at the other shop. "The gabbies are looking this way. So are Vinny and Joey." She waves at them. They must see her because they start yelling.
"The gabbies turned around," Star says. "They're going back to the shop because the guys are making so much noise."
"Okay. First, make sure there are no zombies are lurking around inside. Then, look for keys that have a yellow or white tag. There should be a number at the top, and below it'll say ‘box truck’, or something like that, to describe what vehicle it goes to. Check the sales people's desk drawers or in the file cabinets in either the office or behind the main sales desk. There should be a drawer that holds files with keys in them," I say.
"Why the desk drawers?" Daria asks.
"Because salespeople can be lazy, and they don't put the keys back where they belong." I've spent many hours of my life hunting for keys. Sometimes I'd have to charge the battery on a vehicle and couldn't find the keys. I’d usually end up finding them in a salesperson's desk. It drove me crazy.
We head inside and split up. I head toward the office area. There's a gabbie with a bun on top of her head. Her back is to me. I raise my wrench, ready to bash her head in, when she turns around and gasps.
"Shhh." I lower my weapon and clamp my hand over her mouth.
Her eyes flicker back and forth.
"I'm not here to hurt you. I thought you were a zombie. If I pull my hand away, are you going to scream?" I ask.
She shakes her head. An older woman is in her late fifties, she puts her hands in the air. She looks like a secretary in her black pants and sweater. How on earth can someone worry about wearing makeup during a zombie apocalypse? "Don't hurt me," she says.
"I told you, we're not going to hurt you. What's your name?"
"I'm Georgia." She backs away from me, and her body's stiff.
"Is anyone else here with you?"
"No." She looks toward the door.
I try to make my voice calm, so I don't spook her. "My name is Raven. I have Star, Daria, and Dean with me. We're trying to save our friends who are stranded on the roof next door. Do you know where the keys are to the box trucks?"
She inches toward the file cabinet on the end and pulls a set of keys from her pocket. She unlocks it and opens the drawer.
"Thank you. Do you have anywhere to go? We sort of broke your window. Zombies are going to swarm this place any minute now."
"No."
"We have a secure house, and we're heading up north in a few days. If you want, you can come with us." I give her a forced smile. I know I really shouldn't though. Star says my fake smiles make me look deranged.
Daria comes running in the office. "They're coming. Did you find them?" Her mouth opens to an O. "Who's that?"
"This is Georgia. She's been staying here," I say.
Georgia nods. She reaches into the cabinet and pulls out the keys from three different packets. "Here." She holds them out to me.
I take them. "Thank you. Are you coming with us?"
She runs to her desk, grabs a large purse and shoulders it. "I'm ready." She follows us out of the office.
Dean and Star are fighting zombies in the showroom. There are several with their heads bashed in scattered across the floor. Brown and red goo is flung all over the desks. A brand-new red sports car has a zombie sprawled out on the hood.
"Get to the roof." I hold up the keys for them to see and run out into the parking lot.
They follow me outside. I take off toward the trucks that are backed up to a fence, and the others head to the ladder. I check the key for the stock number and look at the white tags glued on the windshields. I find the key for the first one and hit the unlock button. The truck chirps. Good deal, the battery isn't dead.
I open the door and jump inside, slamming it shut behind me. A gabbie bangs into the side of the truck. I turn the key, and it starts right up. Good. An orange light flashes on the dash. Low fuel. Of course, it is. The gage is pegged at empty. It's universal, all salespeople are too lazy to put gas in the vehicles. I push the menu button on the dash and select estimated miles left. Zero. It may not make it next door. I shut down the engine and glance over at the other trucks. Four zombies are now between me and the next truck. I dig through my pockets and grab the keys. I push the unlock button on each one until the lights flash. I see there are remote start buttons on the key fobs. I duck down on the floorboard and start the truck on the far end. I wait for a couple minutes and peek out the window.
A gabbie's face stares back at me. I jump and let out an "Eep." It's a male, and he's biting at the glass. No zombies are on the other side of the truck. "Here goes nothing." I slide to the passenger seat and open the door a few inches. Three gabbies shuffle in my direction. With my wrench in my hand, I drop out of the vehicle and roll underneath it, which is hard because of my backpack. I see three sets of feet on the passenger side, one in slippers, one in work boots, and one barefoot with thick yellow toe nails. The toes are hairy, dirty, and have grass sticking out from under the cracked nails. They totally could use a pedicure. Multiple sores ooze thick, brown and yellow pus on the feet. I dry heave and turn to face the driver's side to find a zombie wearing gym shoes. Much better.
I don't have enough room to swing my wrench. I pull out my pistol and shoot its knee cap. The male gabbie topples over, and I put a round into its head. The shots make my ears ring and muffle all other noises. I climb out from under the truck I was just in and jump into the passenger side of the next one. Some gabbies shuffle toward the vehicle. I get behind the steering wheel and start the truck. One-eighth of a tank of gas. I want to bang my head on the dash. It'll have to do.
I put the truck in drive and pull out of the parking spot. Thawump. I roll over two of the gabbies standing in front of me. Stupid zombies. I pick up speed before more of the undead flock to my vehicle. Gunfire breaks out. Good, they're thinning out the horde. I drive onto the street and into the accessory shop’s parking lot. The undead crowd around. There's so many. I run over a few and try to pull up next to the building. A bullet crashes into the rearview mirror. "A little too close you guys," I say, even though I know they can't hear me. Only ten more feet until I'm next to the building. I accelerate and slam on the brakes. Perfect.
I hear some thumps coming from the top of the box in the back of the cab. The guys are jumping on top. Star is giving me a thumbs up from the other roof. I pull away from the building, trying not to run into, or over, any more gabbies. If the guys fall off the roof, they're dead meat.
Several zombies push on the sides of the truck. They're banging and moaning. The noise is deafening. My lungs are now in my throat. I'm in the middle of hundreds of gabbies. One wrong move, and it's over. I hear an explosion off to the side. Vinny must have a few tricks left up his sleeve. The gunfire is still nonstop.
Dead zombies are all over the place. I'm going to have to roll over them. Joey and Vinny better hang on. I honk the horn to get their attention. Hopefully, they'll see the problem. There's nothing on top of the roof for them to grab onto. The truck rocks back and forth as I drive over the dead undead. The skulls and bones crunch under the wheels. I feel the backend of the truck go sideways, fishtailing in the gabbie slime. The guts are slippery. I try to drive at a steady speed.
There's a pile of them in front of me and cars parked to the left and right. I can't exactly go around them. "Here goes nothing," I say to myself, driving a few more feet before I stop. I press on the gas a little harder and hear the telltale sound of wheels spinning. I put the truck into reverse and press the pedal again. More tire spinning noise.
I should have thought of this. Now I'm stuck, and there's probably four hundred zombies surrounding us. I repeatedly shift the vehicle from drive to reverse and back again. We're stuck.
Star, Daria, and Dean are still shooting at the gabbies from the roof. Georgia is standing next to Dean, hugging herself. If we wait long enough, maybe they'll shoot them all? Or maybe not. I beep one more time to let the guys above me know I'm going to floor it. At least, I hope they realize it. I put the truck in reverse, then into drive, and stomp the gas. The truck lurches and takes off. I look in the rearview mirror to see if I’ve lost Joey or Vinny. I don't see them on the ground.
I pull out of the lot. The dealership parking lot is flooded with zombies now. Well, I guess I didn't think this through very well. There's not as many as at the accessory shop, but the roof is much taller. If I hurry over there, I can pull up next to the ladder, and maybe they can get on top from there. I drive the truck around the building, taking the long way and pull up to the ladder, careful not to knock it over. I roll down the window and yell, "Hurry." I can't see them. Hopefully, Joey and Vinny won't go up, and the others will come down.
I hear some thumps, then gunfire, and then more thumps. More gunfire. The gabbies are closing in. More gunfire and another thump. Then three knocks. It must be the all-clear signal.
I pull away from the building, gunfire still blasting. I drive slowly, but steadily, so the creatures don’t swarm the vehicle. It’s been about three minutes, which seems like an hour, when we make it to the street. I go a little faster until we are far enough away from the gabbies. I pull into the parking lot of a marina and park next to a boat. It'll help them get off the roof of the truck, while I get out.
Joey and Vinny are already in the boat helping Star, Daria, Georgia, and Dean off the roof of the vehicle. They all climb down off the boat.
"That was scary," Star says.
"Yeah, especially when you got stuck," Daria says.
Joey and Vinny's faces are a little whiter than usual.
"We forgot about the zombie sludge," Dean says. We sure did.
"I'm starved," Vinny says.
"Most of our gear is in the semi," Joey says, looking over his shoulder at the truck surrounded by hundreds of gabbies
"Get inside the box. We should get back to the pickups," I say.
Dean opens the back of the box truck, and all the guys and Georgia pile inside. Star and Daria get inside the cab with me.
"You almost lost Joey and Vinny a couple of times. I was so scared," Star says.
"Me too," Daria says.
"We got through it without any casualties. I consider that a win. What do you think about Georgia?" I ask.
"I didn't have much time to talk to her. She looked scared to death," Star says.
"What was she doing all alone in the dealership?" Daria asks.
"She said she was at work when the outbreak happened and was scared to leave." I park the truck next to our pickups. The guys open the door and exit the vehicle.
Dean, Daria, and Vinny run to his truck, and everyone else runs to mine, except Joey.
"I'll drive the box truck back to the house," says Joey.
"It needs gas. We'll go with you to the gas station," I say.
We follow him as he pulls away. Hopefully, the nearby gas station isn’t full of gabbies.
"I hope we don't run into any more zombies. I'm all gabbied out for the day. Where did they come from?" Star asks.
"They're probably from around town. We had fifteen thousand people who lived here." I don't mention the other nine and a half million people who live in the Chicago area. If only a half of million survive that still leaves nine-million zombies.
21
We make it back to the house without incident. We walk through the utility room, and the chickens are sitting on their nests, clucking softly. I notice one of them with a wooden leg standing by the water bowl.
Star comes up behind me. "What's wrong?"
"That chicken has a wooden leg," I say.
"Really?" She crouches down to look closer. "It does, doesn’t it? That's weird." She gets a cup and scoops some feed into the food
bowl. Several other chickens get off their nests and come over to peck at the food. Each one sports a peg leg with a thin wire tethering it to its thigh.
"They're all missing a leg. Did they come in that way?" I ask.
"Honestly, I haven't paid much attention to them. Mrs. Garcia and Helga have chicken care duties," she says.
Dean comes in from the garage. "What's going on?"
I point at the chickens. "The chickens each have a wooden leg. Did they come that way?"
"I have no idea." He scratches his head.
"You have chickens?" Georgia asks.
"Yes. We found them around town," Joey says.
We take off our shoes before entering the house so we don't track zombie germs inside.
A pot of meatless chili cooks on the stove, and my mouth waters. I'm starving.
"I'll go up and relieve them," Dean says.
We're all in the living room when Mrs. Garcia and Helga come down. "Ben's going to stay upstairs and keep watch with Dean," she says.
I plop down on the sofa. My ribs ache. Everyone else looks worn out too.
"The chili is almost done. How'd it go? You guys look beat," Mrs. Garcia says.
"Vinny and I went into the accessory shop to check it out. Vinny had to use the bathroom, so I was in the back making sure there were no gabbies inside. I also wanted to see their inventory. After Vinny was done, we noticed the parking lot was full of gabbies. It was weird because there were only a few to start with, but then fifteen minutes later, there were, like, a hundred. We didn't bring in all our gear, so we were stuck. We saw a door to the roof and decided to wait up there. Then you guys show up," Joey says.
"We didn't know if you'd come," Vinny says.
"Why wouldn't we?" I ask.
Vinny shrugged. Just that small gesture is like a punch to the gut. How could he think we wouldn't rescue them? They were part of our group now. An important part.
