“Don’t worry,” he said confidently, “I got point. This is just like Nam.”
The two zombies came around a Volkswagen Beetle that was in the middle of the road with the driver’s-side door open and a half-eaten body hanging out of the seat. A dried ring of blood had pooled around the stalled vehicle. Max took a stance, and as the two ghouls came toward him, moaning, he fired two shots. The first hit the closer zombie in the head, and he went down. The second shot hit the other in the side of the head, blowing out part of the skull and his left ear. The creature staggered back two steps and then started moving forward again. Max sighted down the barrel and carefully fired again. This time the bullet hit the snarling zombie directly in the center of his nose, blowing it and the rest of his brains out the back of his head. The ghoul collapsed backward.
Max smiled. “Haven’t lost my touch,” he said triumphantly.
Steve and Luke came up to him and, smiling, slapped him on the back.
“You the man!” shouted Luke with a laugh.
Ana also came up and said, “Okay, Rambo. Let’s get a move on.”
Just then a moaning started. It continued to grow in volume, seemingly coming from all around them. The four stood there, looking around them. Where was that infernal racket coming from? Then the first of the undead emerged from the entrances of the gated communities on both sides of them.
Steve’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit!” he said incredulously.
“We…we’re surrounded,” gasped Ana.
Luke started to shuffle his feet, inching toward the direction of the turnpike. He then yelled out, “Run!”
The four frightened survivors turned and started running for the entrance ramp. Now it seemed so far away. Max and Steve would take an occasional shot while they were running, but they soon realized they weren’t that proficient of marksmen and soon gave up wasting ammo.
As he was running, Steve split his attention between tracking the zombies, planning a course to the ramp, and checking on his three other comrades. Luke was running about even with him. Max was ten feet behind, and Ana was off to the right. As Ana veered around a furniture delivery van, she passed the front gate to Vera Vista Estates. Passing the gated-community entranceway, she heard a high-pitched snarl. At first she thought it was a feral cat, but looking over as she ran, she saw a youngish woman come running down the drive toward her. She was obviously undead and apparently just turned. Her lime-green halter top was covered in blood. Most of her left shoulder was chewed down to the bone. She had bite marks on her neck, and she was missing her left ear. More frightening than that, though, she was moving fast. Very fast. When they first turn, zombies maintain most of their quickness for at least a week before the body starts to break down some, and then they begin to slow. After a while, their running (not really running, actually more of a fast walk) slows down to the shambling gait that they then maintain. This one must have just died. Though awkward (they are, after all, dead), she was still quick.
Ana could see they were on a collision course. Having run all this way, the middle-aged CEO just couldn’t go any faster. The stitch in her side was catching all of her breath and seemed to be squeezing the air out of her lungs. Half a dozen zombies had just appeared out of the left-side community gate, so Steve and Luke had to veer to the right to avoid them. Steve paused for a second and took a shot at the zombie coming at Ana. He fired, and the bullet hit the dead woman in the side. It didn’t even slow her down.
“Watch out, Ana,” he yelled.
He quickly turned his head to his left and saw that he had better start running again. With mounting dread, he watched as the female zombie got closer and closer to the faltering Ana. Just as he started to run toward Ana, he looked back and saw that Max was slowing down, and the zombies to his left were starting to head for him. He stopped again, not quite knowing whom to save first. The zombies coming at Max from his left were closer to Steve. He raised his pistol, steadied himself, and took four shots. Three creatures fell with head wounds. Having given Max a short reprieve, he now turned to Ana. The running ghoul was almost upon her. Ana slowed and then stopped, putting her arms out to ward her off. She looked like she was crying.
The snarling ghoul had her hands out in front of her like claws. She opened her cruel mouth wide to take a piece of Ana. Her milky eyes were almost wild. Just as she was about to pounce on Ana, her head exploded in a hail of brain matter and blood. A split second later, the report of a rifle shot sounded. Ana staggered back, covered with gore. Touching her face and seeing blood on her hands, Ana started to scream. Another zombie came out of the same gateway, but before he could get more than two steps, his head also burst open.
From the top of the overpass, they could see somebody waving an arm at them. He then started motioning them over. Steve, Luke, Ana, and Max ran toward the entrance ramp. The second person on the turnpike overpass was shooting at any of the undead that got close to them. It wasn’t an easy or a close shot, but every one that landed was a head shot. Whoever was firing was good. Very good.
Finally arriving at the turnpike entrance ramp, they stopped. A huge moving van had jackknifed at the turn into the ramp. The rear doors had burst open, and the contents were strewn over the asphalt. Several cars had plowed into the van, and together they made for an impassable obstacle. As they figured out a way over the jumble of vehicles and furniture, the marksman on the turnpike continued to take out any zombies that neared them.
The other man yelled down to them, “Climb over. We’ll keep you covered.”
Just then, they heard the sound of a voice yelling from down the road they had just come from. Steve climbed to the roof of an SUV that had smashed into the trailer and peered down the road. He could see a figure limping. He had just turned onto the road leading to the turnpike. Looking closer, Steve could see that it was Josh. He was hobbling down the road, dragging one leg behind him. Waving his arms wildly, Josh was yelling ahead of him.
“Hey, guys,” Steve exclaimed. “It’s Josh. He made it.”
“Is Karen with him too?” asked Ana.
“I don’t see her,” said Steve quizzically. “Maybe she—holy shit!”
All of a sudden around the same corner from which Josh had just emerged, a large crowd of zombies came staggering after him. It had started with just the group in front of the deli, but it had picked up more and more undead along the way. The droning noise they were making was absolutely unnerving. Steve waved his arms and yelled to Josh, “Over here! We’re over here.”
Josh was hobbling along at his top speed. He was huffing and puffing as he pumped his arms and dragged his leg. The pain from his now dark-purple ankle was beyond comprehension. The all-encompassing throbbing was so strong that he was using it as his marching tempo. His whole world now was just to keep moving forward. He could see the group down the road at the entranceway. A grim smile formed on his lips. You can do this, he thought. You know you can do this. Josh was just one big ball of pain. His back and neck were stiffening up from his awkward, twisted gait. His smile was now a rictal grimace of anguish.
A zombie appeared from the same gate as the green-haltered zombie had. This one was a man. He had on a green polo shirt and white shorts—the same color outfit as she had. Apparently, the Bobsey Twins were husband and wife. He had a bite mark on his calf. Josh and the ghoul saw each other at the same time. The zombie snarled and hissed, and then he ran at Josh. Before he got near, a shot from the sniper on the overpass hit him in the back of the head and, knocking him off his feet, sent him skidding down the asphalt on his face.
“I won’t die. Nothing’s going to stop me. Nothing,” Josh said aloud through gnashing teeth.
Steve, meanwhile, had pulled himself up onto the moving van roof from the SUV. Reaching down, he grabbed Ana’s hand. She was already atop the SUV and, with a grunt, he was able to haul her up onto the roof. Max crawled onto the top of the SUV with Luke’s help. They weren’t worried about zombies as now two snipers on the overpas
s were downing any who came near. Steve grabbed ahold of Max and, with Ana pulling his shirt, was able to raise him up to the van’s roof. Next was Luke, and he went up easily. Steve then turned to Ana and Max.
“Both of you walk to the cabin and climb down. Go up to the highway. Luke and I will wait here and get Josh.”
The mass of undead behind the badly limping attorney was slowly gaining with each yard. Josh looked back and pointed the pistol behind him. He fired off a shot, hitting an undead security guard in the neck. Firing again, the hammer clicked on an empty chamber. Then another and another. Josh dropped the gun on the street and focused on the moving van. Steve lowered himself to the top of the SUV, figuring that Josh couldn’t get up by himself. Luke took up Steve’s old position. The two snipers took out two of the closer zombies, but there were far too many of them to make any real difference. Soon they stopped firing completely.
Josh at last reached the crumpled SUV. The minute he touched it and stopped moving, all of the adrenaline-fueled strength left him. He sagged on the side of the vehicle.
“Josh,” Steve urged, “reach up.”
With sweat and tears streaming down his face, Josh reached up and grabbed Steve’s proffered hand. Just as Steve started to lift him up, the mass of zombies reached the struggling Josh. They grabbed at his legs, pulling and biting them. One took hold of his bad ankle and sunk his teeth into the swollen flesh. Josh gave out an agonized scream as the ghoul ripped off a bloated piece of calf muscle.
“Oh my God,” he screamed, “help me, help me!”
Steve was pulling with his two hands and all of his strength against the multitude of zombie hands pulling back. “I’m trying,” he grunted.
The tug-of-war went on. Other dead hands were reaching up and trying to grab Steve’s feet and ankles. Both men locked eyes. The agony in Josh’s face was unmistakable. Just then, there was another shot, and the top of Josh’s head came apart. His hand went limp, and the many undead hands pulled him from Steve’s sweaty grasp. Josh slid down and disappeared into the mass of snarling zombies. Steve looked down in disbelief and shouted, “Noooooo!”
“Steve,” called Luke from atop the van, “grab my hand. Hurry, before they get you too.”
Steve hesitated for a second, and then he turned, grasped Luke’s offered hand, and climbed onto the roof. Together they jumped down off the large van and ran up the ramp to the turnpike.
When they reached the top of the ramp where Ana and Max were, they saw the two snipers walking toward them. Both men were dressed very similarly. They each had on ball caps, sunglasses, khaki T-shirts, and desert-tan camo pants. They also had web-mesh harnesses in which they had inserted various ammo pouches, knives, canteens, and other supplies. Both men looked to be six feet tall and well built, and each sported a beard. Steve walked up to them.
“You just killed my friend,” he yelled. They looked at him blankly.
“He was dead already,” the slightly taller one said.
“He was just…” started Steve. He dropped his head and took a deep breath. “Yeah…” he said reluctantly, “I guess he was.”
“Sorry, man,” the shooter said. “I just put him out of his misery.”
Steve nodded, “Okay.”
Luke stepped forward and put out his hand. “Thanks a lot, guys. I’m Luke.” They shook hands.
“This here’s Steve,” he continued, pointing at his friend, “and this is Max, and that’s Ana.”
They shook hands all around.
The taller one said, smiling, “Hi. I’m Dill, and this is Rube.”
“Dill and Rube?” Ana said, smiling. “Really?”
Dill, still smiling, chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, “really. Patrick Dillon and Danny Rubeck. Dill and Rube. Short and sweet.”
Ana grinned widely. “Well, okay.”
Max took a step forward, looking at the two men closely. “I take it that you are not just your everyday-type survivors.”
They looked at him.
“Special Forces?” asked Max.
“SEALs,” Rube said.
“Well, we were,” explained Dill. “We did a few tours with the teams. Then—”
“Yeah,” interrupted Rube, “then you took a bullet.” They both chuckled.
Dill continued, “So we decided it was enough. We left the teams and started working for Dark Delta Security. It’s a good gig. We were supposed to fly down to Antigua but ran into some trouble and missed our flight. And so…here we are.”
“Where are y’all from?” asked Rube.
“West Palm Beach,” replied Steve.
“Oh, that’s not good,” said Dill. “We saw that massive horde of zombies heading up that way from Fort Lauderdale about a month or two ago. Wasn’t pretty.”
“No,” replied Luke. “We barely made it out. There were ten of us when we started.”
“What are your plans?” Dill asked.
“I don’t really know,” admitted Steve. “Just get out of the big city. Away from population centers. Maybe head west.”
“Good idea,” said Rube. “We were gonna head on down Alligator Alley. Get out to the west coast of Florida where the population is smaller and hopefully the zombies are too.”
“Now that sounds like good thinking,” said Max.
“You’re welcome to join us,” invited Dill. “We move fast, so if you can keep up, you’re more than welcome to tag along.”
The four remaining members from West Palm looked at each other and either shrugged or nodded. “Sounds good,” said Steve with a grin. “We’re in.”
The six gathered themselves up and started walking south down the Florida Turnpike. Now they all had a definite goal.
After several hours and a few miles of deserted road, the sun was starting to sink into the western sky. Dill and Rube kept a brisk pace, just slightly slowing for the civilian group.
“There’s an industrial park off to the right,” said Dill as they walked. “We’ll spend the night there. Shouldn’t be any undead there. Or if so, not many. In about a quarter of a mile, we’ll cut over and then hop the fence.”
Dill pointed his thumb back over his shoulder. “The zombies are scarce along this highway, but we’ve got a little group back there following us. Once we get to the park and they don’t see us, they’ll lose interest and leave. I don’t like drawing a crowd.”
Continuing down the road past all of the abandoned cars, they could see the sky starting to turn a beautiful pink and orange with long, purple clouds near the horizon.
Max turned to Steve as they were walking. “You know,” he said, “I think that we should look for a big shopping mall to hole up in.”
They all just looked at him.
“What?” he said. “It’s a good idea. I mean, all those stores? It would be perfect.”
“You don’t watch many horror movies, do you?” asked Steve in a deadpan voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Dawn of the Dead?” mentioned Luke.
“Dawn of what?” Max asked, totally puzzled.
Smiling, Luke put his hand up dismissively. “Never mind, you had to be there.”
Steve smiled.
“Whaaat?” Max mumbled as they walked.
After a few minutes had passed, Luke turned and, looking at Steve, said, “You know, just before the Internet went down, I read a list of celebrities that had caught the Pandora virus. It said that George Romero had it and was hospitalized.”
“No shit?” Steve said. “George Romero’s a zombie? Ha! How fucking ironic is that?”
“Yeah, right?” said Luke.
Both men chuckled humorously as they continued walking down the turnpike.
Tommy looked around. The bright setting sun was in his eyes, but he could see the five zombies standing in front of the 7-Eleven. “Too many,” he said to Manny and Sean. “There’s a crowd a block away too. If we start firing, we’ll just draw a larger crowd over here.”
“How about if one of us draws them awa
y?” asked Sean. “As soon as they leave the area, the rest of us could break in and the other can just circle around and join us.”
“I’ll do it,” said Paul.
“Okay,” nodded Tommy. “We’ll circle around and come up behind the building. When you see us there, make some noise and keep drawing them away. Don’t let them see you, though. I don’t want them moaning and growling at you. It’ll just draw the others over, and that’ll screw things up.”
“Okay, Sarge,” said Paul. “I’m ready.”
Tommy, Sean, Manny, and Linda backed up and then went around the building. They crossed the street a half a block away, and then they came around and made their way to the back of the convenience store. Tommy looked from around a Dumpster and gave Paul the all-clear sign.
Paul tapped his rifle butt against the stucco of the building he was using to hide. Nothing happened. He tried again, a little louder this time. One of the zombies stirred, looked around, and then resumed staring off into space.
Shit, Paul thought to himself. It figures. I’d get the only five zombies in the world who are too deep in thought to pay attention. Looking around, he spied an empty beer bottle on the curb. Slowly moving out to reach for it, he kept his eyes on the creatures across the street. He snagged it and then brought it back with him. Taking another glance at the five ghouls, Paul raised the bottle and then smashed it down on the sidewalk by his feet. Immediately, all five looked in his direction. Paul turned and ran along the building unseen. He then turned and ran along the back Dumpster area in the rear. He quickly hid behind an overfilled and stinking Dumpster there. He bent and found a whiskey bottle, which he picked up.
The five hungry zombies had crossed the street and were making their way along the sidewalk where Paul had waited before. He could hear their feet crunching through the broken glass. At last they appeared, shambling past the alley. When all five had passed, Paul stepped out and threw the bottle as far as he could down the side street. It sailed over their heads and crashed down on the sidewalk in front of a small pink ranch house several houses down. All five immediately picked up their pace and headed for the house.
Pandora 2: Death is not an Option Page 13
