“How long are we going to wait here?” Cindy asked.
“Not much longer, babe,” Al answered.
“There’s definitely someone in there,” I said. “I see two cars and a pickup. Let’s cut the chain. Nobody’s coming. They either don’t see us or are hoping we’ll go away.”
Al got the bolt cutters from the back of the truck and I watched for any activity from the front of the building while he cut the chain. We had several locks and would just use one of ours to secure the gate behind us. That way whoever was in here would still be able to use their lock after we were done.
Al unwrapped the chain and opened the gate. “Do we go in on foot or do you want to take the trucks?”
“Let’s take the trucks,” I said. “I don’t like this. If anybody is in there you’d think they’d be watching the gate.”
Gina and Cindy drove the trucks through the gate while Al and I watched the building. Al wound the chain back around the gate and put our lock through where he had cut it. He left the lock open though, in case we needed to make a hasty retreat.
The first house I had owned when I was in my twenties had a wood burning stove. My dad and I had gone to a lumber yard much like this one back then. There was a mountain of scrap ends piled by the road leading to the saw mill. We had come to the lumber yard all those years ago to buy a truck load of these scrap ends. I borrowed a truck and the two of us drove for hours to get to the lumberyard a friend had told me about. After getting to the lumberyard I found out it was only thirty dollars a truck load and had gone about loading as much scrap wood as I could into the back of the truck. When I had the bed of the truck full I noticed several of the workers standing around, smiles on their faces. One of my back tires was nearly flat. It must have been low on air from the start. I tried to fill the tire with one of those battery operated pumps that one of the workers carried in his car but there was too much pressure on the tire. I was forced to unload the scraps from the back of the truck. Then reload it after I inflated the tire. I remember being so mad that day. All that work loading, unloading, and then reloading the truck. Now the thought of that day brought a smile to my face. If only a flat tire was the worst of my problems now.
Piles of cut lumber of different lengths and widths were stacked everywhere. Next to one of these piles was where we found the first dead body. There wasn’t much left. I couldn’t even tell if it had been a man or a woman. We stopped the trucks and Al and I got out. Gina and Cindy drove the rest of the way and we walked in front of the trucks. At the entrance to the sawmill we found another body. The torn remnants of the dress she had worn was the only reason I could tell this one had been a woman. Al told the girls to wait in the trucks while we went in. This brought a strong round of protests from both Cindy and Gina. They wanted to grab some wood from the piles outside of the mill and just take off. I kind of agreed with them but Al wanted to go inside and have a look around. He fed us some bullshit about finding the right size boards for the front of the truck. I didn’t say anything but should have.
“We need a place to spend the night,” he said. “There’s a fence surrounding the perimeter. We’ll just look around. If we run into any trouble we’ll turn tail and come right back.”
“Fine,” Gina said. “Go have your fun.”
“I promise you baby. First sign of trouble, we’re out of here,” I said.
Gina climbed into the truck with Cindy and closed the door. “I said go. So go.”
This was a big operation. The doorway was big enough to drive a tractor trailer through. The dwindling daylight only penetrated so far into the interior of the mill. Once we got away from the open entryway it got dark fast. Inside of the mill we found dozens of tents. It looked like an entire city had moved behind the fences in the hopes of finding something that didn’t exist any longer. Safety.
From the back of the building we could hear the unmistakable moans of the undead. Al and I proceeded cautiously deeper into the mill. We found several blood trails and followed the largest one through the debris field of the battle that had recently taken place here. The large saws and processed lumber stacked everywhere made it impossible to see all the way into the back of the mill. Avoiding tripping over the dead bodies that were everywhere made the going even slower. I stopped counting bodies after thirty. The spent shell casings, rifles, and hand guns, that hadn’t been enough to prevent this slaughter, lay next to many of the dead.
“Look at that one,” Al said. “She shot herself.”
“Looks like a lot of them did. We should get out of here.”
“There’s still zombies in here.”
“No shit,” I replied. “That’s why we should go. We’ll get your new bumper then set the place on fire when we leave.”
“They’re all in the back. Somebody’s still alive in here. They’d be out here now chowing down on these poor bastards unless they had something they were more interested in back there.”
Al was right. These kills were fresh. “Alright, let’s go.”
The further into the mill we went the louder the moans became. There were a lot of zombies in here. There was no way we would be taking this horde on with just our swords. We came to the back of the building and found what we were looking for. There were at least fifty zombies crowded outside of what appeared to be the office area of the mill. A solid steel door was all that separated the horde from whatever it was they were after. Most of them seemed to have lost interest in their prey and just stood staring off into space in typical zombie fashion. However there were about a dozen that were still actively trying to get in the door. Al and I stopped and raised our rifles.
“Be ready to fall back,” Al said, and opened fire.
As soon as we started shooting the entire group of zombies turned as one and ran in our direction. Even with our rifles on full auto this horde of freshly turned zombies were too fast. “Fall back!” Al shouted.
We retreated around one of the stacks of lumber. More zombies were coming at us from behind. How we had missed them on our way in I had no idea. There weren’t many but they slowed down our escape. A hand shot out from behind a stack of two by fours and grabbed my forearm. It pulled me off balance and I fell to the ground, dragging it down on top of me. As I hit the ground instinct told me to roll away from the undead monster before it had a chance to take a bite out of my ass. All this did was cause it to roll along with me. Somehow I was able to keep both hands on my rifle and used it to push the creature away from me. I had the end of the barrel up under its chin but my finger was nowhere near the trigger. I was in the process of sliding my hand up the stock of my rifle in an attempt to get to the trigger when I heard Al’s gun go off. He shot the bastard in the head and it flew off me, taking my rifle with it.
“Get up!” Al shouted.
He turned and fired into the runners as they rounded the corner. I drew my father’s revolver and fired from where I lay on the ground at the zombies that were coming at us from the other end of the mill. When my revolver clicked on a spent cartridge I crawled to the dead bastard that still held my assault rifle in its grasp. I pried it from its hands, ejected the nearly empty magazine, and slapped a new one home. Al reached down with one hand, grabbed me under the arm, and helped me to my feet. We fired in front of us as we made our way back out of the mill, taking down as many of the zombies that were in front of us as we could as we made our way out of the building. Suddenly the darkness that prevailed was broken by a set of headlights coming in our direction. The girls were coming to our rescue. The truck ran down several of the zombies that were headed in our direction and came to a stop next to one of the tents that Al and I had passed on our way into the mill. The passenger door to the truck burst open and Gina jumped out, firing her assault rifle behind us.
The tent next to her bulged in her direction and fell to the ground. She turned and fired a volley of shots into the writhing canvas mass beside her. I could see the darkened blood of a recently turned zombie oozing from beneath
the folds of canvas as Al and I ran to the truck. By this time Cindy was out of the truck. She had her assault rifle and was also firing into the horde coming at us from behind. Al and I ran to the back of the truck and climbed over the side. There wasn’t a lot of room back there amongst all the gear but we were able to wedge ourselves in. I heard the doors to the truck slam shut. Cindy threw it in reverse and backed away from our pursuers. I was trying to get into a position where I could fire my rifle when she hit the brakes and I was thrown onto my back into some cases of bottled water. I could feel her turn a one eighty and decided it best to stay down until we were out of the mill.
The truck came to a stop. I waited a second then sat up. We were outside of the mill. I climbed over the side and ran with Al to the entrance way. By the time we got there what was left of the horde was just coming into view. We started shooting into the running mob of zombies and when the girls joined us the four of us were able to put them down with little trouble.
“So answer a question for me,” Gina said, after the shooting stopped.
Here it came.
“When exactly did you get the first sign of trouble, before or after they swarmed you?”
“We rounded a corner and there they were,” Al said.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re telling me the two of you didn’t hear all those fuckers before you saw them.”
“Yeah. Something like that,” Al said.
“Steve, tell me you didn’t hear them,” she said.
“We heard them. There’s somebody trapped in there. That’s why we kept going.”
“You two promised us you wouldn’t do that. First sign of trouble, we’re out of here. Do you remember saying that?”
“I never said that,” Al said.
“I’m not talking to you old man.”
“You damn well better not be little girl. Not like that.”
“Will you two stop it?” Cindy said. “Al you were wrong to walk into that mess. What exactly is your plan? Get the two of you killed so Gina and I are left out here alone. You should have come back out. Didn’t we decide a long time ago that we couldn’t save everybody? You don’t even know who’s in there.”
“I’m sorry baby. I was trying to do the right thing. What if was one of us trapped? I can’t just leave somebody to die. Not like that.”
“So, you’re saying you want to go back in there,” Cindy said.
“In the back of the mill there’s some offices. They were trying to get in the door. Do I think we should go back in? Hell yes, but I’ll leave it up to you and Gina.”
“Only if we take one of the trucks in. Are you okay with that?”
“You really think we should go back in there?” Gina asked.
“I trust Al,” Cindy said. “If he thinks somebody might still be alive in there then yes, we should at least see if we can help them. Besides, it looks like it’s clear in there now. What have we got to lose?”
The girls drove and Al and I sat in the back seat. We made our way back into the mill. Cindy was right. We met no resistance other than a few crawlers that we handled by crushing them under our tires. Cindy stopped about fifteen feet from the offices and the four of us got out of the truck. Al produced a crowbar from under one of the seats and we went to work on the door. In a matter of seconds the offices were open.
It was pitch black on the other side of the door. Gina handed out flashlights and we made our way in. Four beams of light swept the room revealing nothing more than a desk and two other doors. There was a lot of blood on the floor and walls but no bodies. Al went to the closest door grasped the doorknob and stood to one side. I got in position on the other side and he pushed the door open. Gina and Cindy stood back and shined their flashlights into the room.
“It’s a bathroom,” Gina said.
I stepped into the doorway and looked in. There was nothing to see other than a toilet that was well used and full to over flowing with human excrement. I grabbed the doorknob as fast as I could and closed the door.
“Goddamn that stinks,” Al said.
“I guess the water isn’t working,” I said.
“You think not?”
“Listen,” Cindy said.
The sound of someone sobbing was coming from behind the other door. We set up outside of the door just like we had for the other. Al opened the door and the girls shined their flashlights in.
“Oh my god,” Gina said.
I looked into the room and could see several bodies on the floor. It was obvious they hadn’t escaped from whatever had happened in the mill unscathed. The bodies closest to the door were covered in blood and bite marks. They had all come here to die after their camp was overrun. This looked to have happened recently and none of the bodies in the room appeared to have died from a head wound. If we didn’t do something to correct this soon they would all be rising as the undead in a matter of minutes.
“We need to get out of here,” I said.
“We’re not leaving them like this,” Al said, moving into the room and drawing his pistol.
I did the same and fired into the head of the body closest to me. A blood curdling scream nearly caused me to drop my gun. One of the bodies sat up. “Please don’t hurt my mommy.”
A little girl covered in blood sat up and looked up at me from across the room. From behind me I heard the sounds of a struggle.
“Don’t go in there,” Al said. I looked over my shoulder and Al was trying to hold Cindy back. “I’ll get her.”
“She’s got bites all over her arms Al. There’s nothing you can do for her,” I said.
“What are you going to do, shoot her?” Al said, under his breath. “We won’t hurt your mommy honey.”
Al went into the room stepping over the bodies on his way. When he got to the little girl he held out his arms to her. She looked up at him and just sat there. One of us needed to do the right thing. Al looked to the three of us for help. I saw the glint of metal as the little girls arm swung at Al’s leg. Al stumbled back and groaned. A shot went off from behind me, the little girl’s head snapped back, and she fell to the ground. Cindy pushed past me and rushed to Al’s side. He was bent over holding his leg, a small pocket knife was imbedded in his thigh.
Cindy dropped to her knees and grasped the handle of the knife. “I’m going to pull it out now. This is going to hurt Al.” She pulled it out. The blood flowing from the wound increased with the knife gone soaking Al’s pant leg.
Cindy pressed her hand against the wound. “I need something to slow the bleeding.”
I was in shock. Probably more so than Al. “Who shot her? Did you?” I said, looking at Gina.
She just shook her head.
“What does it matter? I did,” Cindy said. “Get me something to wrap around his leg before he bleeds to death.”
Al pulled a large bandana from his pocket and handed it to Cindy. She tied it around his leg then turned her anger back on me. “Are you just going to stand there? Help me get him out of here before they start turning.”
I got Al’s arm over my shoulder and we helped him out of the room. Gina crossed the room and checked to see if we had any surprises waiting for us in the mill on the other side of the door. She stepped out of the room and looked around, sweeping her rifle from side to side. Satisfied it was all clear she waved us through. We got to the truck and I looked back.
“I have to go back. We left the door open.”
“Leave it,” Cindy said. “We’re not staying.”
“What about Al’s leg?”
“I’ll work on it in the truck. This place isn’t safe.”
I looked at Gina and she just shrugged her shoulders. Maybe Cindy was right. Al and I had been calling the shots up until now and things hadn’t been going so well. Let her take charge. Things couldn’t get much worse.
It was a good thing Al had left the lock open on the gate to the mill. There were dozens of zombies in and by the road as we left the mill. I was barely able to get the lock
off the chain before being swarmed by the horde that chased us from the mill. I shot my way through the mass of undead bodies that tried to eat me before I could get back to Al’s “new” truck. Cindy and Gina followed me out of the mill with Cindy working on Al’s leg while Gina drove. The new leader of our group decided we would drive through the night if necessary. She was tired of all the stops we had made along the way and felt that things couldn’t get any worse than they had already been by driving in the dark.
Cindy was able to get the bleeding stopped and sewed the wound shut. She kept Al pumped full of antibiotics and pain killers, doing her best to make him comfortable. Now all we had to do was wait. Gina and I stayed in constant contact over the radio and pressed on through the night. Al wasn’t doing well. He had a fever and was delirious. All I could think about was Rick and how suddenly he had turned. I wasn’t comfortable leaving the girls in the truck with him but Cindy insisted we push on. During one of our bathroom breaks that night I asked Gina to keep her pistol handy. If Al turned I didn’t want to leave it to Cindy to put him down. When Rick came out of the back of the truck Al and I had both hesitated, almost costing Gina her life. My girl was a survivor. If it hadn’t been for her quick action yesterday one of us might have been bitten.
Truthfully driving at night turned out to be a good thing. Even though the number of zombies we encountered was higher than in the daytime it seemed that all the criminals that ran amok during the day were tucked in for the night. Gina led our small caravan, plowing through anything that got in her way, and I followed behind in the rust bucket. By the time the sun was coming up we were almost to Rolla.
Even though it wasn’t a big town we decided it best to avoid Rolla completely and pick up the main highway west of the city. Rolla was a college town and school had just started before the event that ended mankind. There were probably thousands of co-ed zombies running all over the place. The last thing I needed was to be chased down by a bunch of undead teenaged runners eaten alive and then ripped to shreds.
Dead Life (Book 5) Page 9
