Zombie Apocalypse

by Cassiday, Bryan

  “If you could tell me some good news, I’d like to hear it now.”

  “No news is good news.”

  “That’s not what I had in mind.”

  “We need to turn back. We’re not gonna be able to get by those things. More of them keep streaming out from that cross street.”

  Halverson watched the green silhouettes of the creatures thronging down the street.

  Tom looked agitated. “If we turn back, we might run into those Zone Zero zombies we just fled.”

  “We can’t go forward.”

  Halverson retreated in the direction they had just come from.

  Reluctantly, Tom followed, his arm around Tanya, helping her walk.

  “If things get worse, do you want to know about it?” asked Halverson.

  “No.”

  “OK.”

  “Tell me, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I can see a jeep heading this way.”

  “That might be good news.”

  “I doubt it. There’s a guy standing behind the machine gun mounted on it.”

  “It’s a Zone Zero jeep?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not good.”

  Halverson ducked into a nearby alley. Tom and Tanya followed him. They hid behind a large green steel Dumpster.

  “We need that jeep,” said Halverson. He peeked around the Dumpster at the street they had just left.

  “Was the gunner wearing night-vision goggles?”

  “No.”

  “Then he must not know about the zombies up ahead.”

  “Not yet.”

  “That might work in our favor.”

  Tom and Tanya huddled behind the Dumpster. A cat-sized rat leapt out of the Dumpster and scampered past their legs. Tom’s eyes bulged out. Tanya, as usual, displayed no reaction.

  “Can rats turn into zombies?” Tom asked anxiously.

  “I don’t know if this plague can be spread to different species.”

  “Didn’t rats spread the bubonic plague in the Middle Ages?”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Tom bounced to his feet. “Let’s just get out of here. There may be more of those rats in the Dumpster.”

  “We need that jeep,” Halverson muttered.

  He was still peering out of the alley toward the main street waiting for the jeep to come into view.

  “Maybe you can flatten one of the jeep’s tires with that pole somehow,” said Tom.

  “Then the gunner will shoot us.”

  “Good point.” Tom paused in thought. “There must be some way.”

  “What if we push this Dumpster to the mouth of the alley?”

  “What good will that do?”

  “You didn’t let me finish. After we move the Dumpster, I go to the other side of the street and hide in the alley there. When we hear the jeep coming, you shove the Dumpster in the jeep’s path to block it.”

  “What are you gonna be doing?”

  “The Dumpster will act as a diversion as well as an obstacle. When the soldiers are dealing with the Dumpster, I’ll move in and knock the gunner out with this.” Halverson held up his steel pipe.

  “What’s to prevent the driver from driving away?”

  “You and me. We come at him from two fronts. He won’t know who to ward off first.”

  Tom shrugged, not impressed with Halverson’s plan. “Too many things can go wrong.”

  “If you have a better idea, let’s hear it now. We’re running out of time. The jeep will be here in a few minutes.”

  Tom shook his head.

  “I’ll help you push this Dumpster to the street,” said Halverson.

  They both put their shoulders to the Dumpster and fell to pushing.

  “This thing’s not exactly light,” said Tom.

  “It must have a bit of garbage in it.”

  “I got a brutal headache in my sinuses.”

  Halverson and Tom shoved the Dumpster to the mouth of the alley. Tom heaved a sigh of relief.

  “It’s not gonna be easy pushing this by myself,” he said.

  Without saying a word, pipe in hand, Halverson sprinted across the street into the alley there.

  Halverson didn’t have long to wait before he heard the sound of the jeep’s motor approaching. He skulked in the alley, waiting for Tom to roll the Dumpster in front of the jeep.

  The best part of ten seconds later, Tom rolled the Dumpster out into the street into the jeep’s path.

  The jeep was approaching pretty fast, Halverson saw. A good thing for him and Tom, Halverson decided.

  To avoid crashing into the Dumpster, the jeep’s driver steered to the right toward the alley’s entrance where Halverson was lurking. The jeep skidded and spun out of control to a tire-screeching stop.

  Halverson rushed out of the alley and thrust the end of the pipe into the startled gunner’s head. The gunner was off balance in the first place. The spinning, skidding jeep had knocked him back on his heels. He had lost his grip on the machine gun. He could not respond to Halverson by shooting him.

  Not only that but Halverson’s ambush had caught him off guard.

  Halverson’s blow to the gunner’s head toppled the gunner off the jeep. The gunner fell to the pavement, slammed his head into it, and lay motionless.

  Halverson heard the commotion as Tom bushwhacked the driver. Tom had grabbed one of the driver’s arms through the jeep’s open window and was trying to wrench him out of the driver’s seat.

  The bald fortyish driver had two day’s growth of black stubble on his face and a ponytail that sprouted from the back of his head. He had no intention of letting Tom inside the jeep. The driver fought back with the strength and the will of a cornered wild animal.

  Halverson leapt onto the passenger’s side of the jeep and helped Tom overpower the driver.

  Halverson looped his arm around the man’s head from behind and squeezed the man’s neck in the crook of his elbow. His neck wedged in Halverson’s arm, the man continued to resist. Even so, Halverson managed to haul the driver out of his seat by the neck. The man pulled a knife from a leather scabbard that was strapped to the inside of his calf.

  “Look out!” said Tom. “He’s got a knife.”

  Halverson had seen the knife at the same time Tom had.

  Knife in hand, the driver stabbed behind him toward Halverson’s chest.

  Halverson intercepted the driver’s hand as it lunged toward him. Halverson latched onto the driver’s wrist and banged the guy’s knuckles repeatedly against the steering wheel, attempting to force the guy to drop the weapon. Halverson knew his smashing of the guy’s knuckles against the hard plastic of the steering wheel had to hurt like mad.

  Wincing in pain and having trouble breathing courtesy of Halverson’s arm around his windpipe, the driver dropped the knife. It clattered against a thick plastic spoke in the steering wheel, ricocheted off the spoke, tumbled against Halverson’s thigh, and dropped into the passenger-side foot well.

  Halverson scooped up the knife by its helve.

  He let go of the driver’s neck with his arm, clutched the guy’s ponytail, and yanked the guy’s head back. With his other hand, Halverson drove the knife blade up through the bottom of the guy’s mouth, through his tongue and his palate, and deep into his brain all the way to the hilt.

  The dead driver ceased struggling. He fell limp, his body sprawled over the gearshift between the jeep’s two bucket seats.

  Still wearing his NVGs, Halverson peered through the jeep’s grime-streaked windshield and could make out the pack of zombies shambling and lurching down the street toward the jeep.

  “At least these guys didn’t get a shot off at us,” said Tom. “The zombies would’ve heard it and found out we’re here.”

  “They’re coming anyway,” said Halverson.

  He lugged the driver’s heavy body across the gearshift and across the passenger seat. He dumped the corpse onto the street, but not before he withdrew the knife from its blood-soaked throat
. He tossed the knife into the foot well.

  “Where’s Tanya?” asked Tom, whipping his head around to seek her out behind him.

  “She’s probably still in the alley. I’ll get her. I can see better than you.”

  Halverson dashed around the front of the jeep and into the alley where they had found the Dumpster. Tom followed on Halverson’s heels.

  Halverson brought up short, so short that Tom ran into Halverson’s back.

  “What the hell?” said Tom.

  “Don’t move.”

  Halverson stretched out his arm and held Tom back behind it.

  “What’s happening?” said Tom. “I can’t see.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Through his NVGs, Halverson could discern at least a score of green figures staggering through the alley. They were converging on Tanya.

  She put up no resistance that he could see.

  Several of the creatures grabbed her arms and started chewing on them.

  She fainted.

  “The zombies got her,” Halverson told Tom.

  “Then what are we standing here for? Let’s go help her.”

  Tom made to bolt into the alley. Halverson held him back.

  “What are you doing?” said Tom, puzzled. He tried to shove Halverson’s arm out of his way.

  “There are too many of them. They’re already on her.”

  “We’ve got to get her!”

  “Use your head! There are over twenty of them in there and maybe even more behind them.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  “Where do any of them come from? They’re all over the place. They could be surrounding the jeep while we’re talking.”

  Halverson seized Tom’s arm and ushered him out of the alley. Tom tried to fight free of Halverson’s grasp.

  “We have to help her!” said Tom.

  “She’s buried under those things. We need to get to the jeep.”

  Tom broke free of Halverson’s grasp.

  Halverson gazed at him for a few seconds then booked for the jeep.

  Tom peered into the alley.

  Halverson arrived at the jeep. He turned around to watch Tom.

  Motionless, Tom was trying to figure out what to do. Grudgingly, he decided to turn away from the alley. He broke into a run for the jeep.

  The teeming zombies on the street were nearing the jeep. As yet, none of them had reached it, Halverson realized with relief.

  He hopped into the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive. I can see better.”

  Tom didn’t stop to argue. He circled around the jeep and hopped into the passenger seat.

  The jeep’s engine was still running, Halverson realized. The driver had not bothered to kill it. The jeep’s headlights were off. Halverson left them off. He would not need them with his NVGs on. The headlights would only serve to attract the attention of the creatures, giving them something to zero in on.

  He turned the jeep around and sped away from the oncoming army of zombies. He burned rubber in his haste to escape. The tires fishtailed, squealed, and at length straightened out as they grabbed purchase on the pavement.

  “Eat dust,” Halverson said to the green zombies that he saw in the rearview mirror as he drove away from them.

  Except now that he peered through the windshield he could make out that there was yet another clutch of zombies massing at the opposite end of the street directly in front of him.

  Instinctively, Halverson slowed down.

  “What are you doing?” asked Tom in consternation.

  “More of them are swarming in front of us.”

  “Are you sure? I can’t see them.”

  “But I can.” Halverson tapped his NVGs with his forefinger.

  He stopped the jeep. He buckled his seat belt.

  “Buckle up,” he said.

  Tom groped for his seat belt at his sides and buckled it.

  Halverson considered the zombies in the rearview mirror then the ones in front of him. He gunned the engine. The jeep’s tires shrilled. The jeep bucked and shot forward.

  “There are less of them in front of us,” he said. “We’ll have to ram through them. Get the knife.”

  Tom scanned the jeep frantically, twisting his neck and body in his efforts. “Where is it?”

  “In your foot well.”

  Tom bent over and cast around between his legs. It wasn’t long before he spotted the knife on the carpet near his right heel. He snagged the haft. He sat up.

  “Why don’t I just man the machine gun?” he said.

  “The noise will attract the things.”

  “But they already know we’re here.”

  “We can’t be sure of that. Just because they were heading toward us doesn’t mean they know where we are.”

  “Then why are they surrounding us?”

  “They may not be doing it deliberately. Maybe they’re just roaming all over the place, no matter where we go.”

  “That’s a comforting thought.” Dejected, Tom slumped in his seat. He thought of something. “Can’t they hear this jeep?”

  “I’m not sure.” Halverson peered through his NVGs ahead at the maundering zombies. “If we start firing that machine gun, though, they’ll hear it. You can bet the farm on that. M2s make a racket.”

  Tom considered the knife in his hand. “This knife isn’t gonna be much help.”

  “I doubt we’ll need it. I’m gonna go at them so fast, they won’t have time to react to us.”

  “What if they blockade the jeep?”

  “I don’t have any problem running those things over.”

  Halverson got the jeep up to 80 mph. He still had the jeep’s headlights off. He planned on flying out of the darkness so fast, the zombies would not know what hit them.

  He aimed the jeep at the weakest link in the zombie chain creeping up the street. No matter where he drove he would have to hit some of the creatures. Their numbers stretched from one side of the road to the other.

  Without slowing down, he slammed into two of the creatures. One looked like a heavyset armored truck driver in a blue Brink’s uniform. The other wore a navy blue Homeland Security Windbreaker.

  The jeep hit the two creatures with a thud. The collision threw Halverson and Tom forward in their seats and all but brought the jeep to a halt.

  Halverson floored the accelerator. The last thing they needed was to stop here in the middle of a pack of zombies. The armored truck driver zombie was wedged under the jeep’s chassis. The creature was so fat Halverson could not get the jeep to roll over the creature’s massive stomach.

  Zombies staggered toward the jeep.

  “This isn’t a good place to park,” said Tom, frozen in fear, gripping the sides of his seat as if he was holding on for dear life.

  Halverson changed gears. He put the jeep into reverse. The chassis was still stuck on the mound of belly underneath it.

  A brunette female zombie wearing a blonde wig reached its hand into the jeep trying to grab Tom. Tom unfroze in response to the assault. He slashed at the groping arm with his knife to ward the creature off. He sliced the creature’s arm several times. It seemed to cut no ice with the ghoul. The ghoul kept trying to grab a piece of Tom so it could bite him.

  Tom hacked at the withered, rotting arm with all the strength he could muster. He managed to cut the creature’s dead arm off below the elbow. The hand and the forearm fell into the jeep beside him. Disgust on his face, he watched maggots instead of blood spill out of the veins of the severed forearm.

  He snatched up the forearm and hurled it at the zombie’s head. The forearm bounced off the zombie’s brow and caromed into the herd of zombies behind the creature.

  The jeep’s rear wheels gained enough traction on the asphalt for the jeep to pull back off of the armored truck driver’s bloated belly wedged under the chassis.

  Halverson backed the jeep into a cluster of creatures that were converging on him from behind.

  Unable to continue backing up because
of the wall of zombies forming behind him, Halverson put the jeep into first gear and was careful to steer around the armored truck driver’s distended belly.

  Tom hacked with his knife at another arm that was reaching into the jeep and groping for him. Out of the corner of his eye, Halverson glimpsed four fingers fall off the zombie’s hand and roll into the foot well.

  Another zombie appeared out of nowhere to take the place of the fingerless zombie that pulled back to stare in puzzled disbelief at its mutilated hand.

  This one was a female zombie with shoulder-length curly blonde hair. She wore a baggy white sweatshirt that reached below the crotch of her faded blue jeans. Frowning, she held her head down on the chest of her sweatshirt, which was saturated with blood—that of her most recent victim, Halverson assumed.

  It looked to him like she was trying to consume her victim’s fresh blood that was staining her sweatshirt and to consume her sweatshirt in the attempt.

  If Halverson didn’t know better, he would have thought, from the looks of it, that she was devouring her own chest.

  “Can’t this crate go any faster?” Tom asked, pulling away from the creature moving in on him.

  The problem wasn’t the speed, Halverson knew. It was finding a clear route to traverse. The lurching zombies kept stumbling into his way just as he was about to floor the gas pedal. He didn’t want to end up beached on another hump of belly.

  Though the creatures had the whip hand in terms of numbers, Halverson retained one advantage. Courtesy of his NVGs, his vision was more acute than theirs. Unless the jeep was directly in front of them where they could see it, the creatures were stumbling blindly, haphazardly in the dark foraging for fresh human flesh.

  Halverson seized his chance. He picked up on an opening in the milling zombie herd. He put the pedal to the metal. He shot the gap.

  At the sound of the jeep’s stoked engine, the zombies became alerted to the jeep’s whereabouts. Clumsily, they shambled around and homed in on the high-revving engine. Unable to converge on the jeep fast enough, they plodded behind it, giving chase, stumbling and falling all over themselves.

  Halverson was speeding forward, leaving the bumbling, milky-eyed zombies in his wake. To Halverson, through his NVGs, the creatures were rendered as green figures flailing away in the darkness clutching and grasping in futility at air.