The Zombie Uprising Series

by M. A. Robbins

  She ripped open the M80 package. "Now let's set off some fireworks."

  24

  Jen cracked the front door and peeked out. The screeching had stopped. Sensing no movement, she opened it farther and scanned the area. "Clear."

  Griffin handed her two M80s. "How's your throw?"

  She shrugged. "I throw like a girl."

  Griffin made a face.

  "I throw like a girl who played softball for years. I can chuck something as small as an M80 far enough."

  They stepped onto the porch and faced the house. The rain had died to a steady drizzle. "We need to get these over at least the next house. Don't want to draw the zombies too close to us," Griffin said.

  Jen glanced up and down the road. Still clear. "I can do better than that. Mine'll go over the next two houses."

  "Good." Griffin removed a box of matches from his pocket.

  Jen held an M80 in her throwing hand. "How do you want these spaced? I say we throw one, wait for the explosions, then throw another."

  "That'll work. Then we go back into the house and wait for things to calm down before heading to the school."

  Jen nodded.

  Griffin struck a match against the side of the box and produced a blue-and-yellow flame. Jen lit her wick and threw the M80 high over the house. Two seconds later, Griffin's arced out of sight.

  A boom, then another, echoed between the houses. The screeching began, several from close by.

  Jen lit her second M80 and flung it, then ducked into the house. Griffin did the same and closed the door behind him, just before two more resounding booms penetrated the walls.

  The screeches multiplied and footsteps pounded the ground. Please let Dad be somewhere safe.

  Griffin opened the refrigerator door. "Want a beer?"

  Jen nodded, and Griffin tossed her a can. She opened it and took a swig. No need to whisper with the racket from the zombie stampede outside. "Why?" she asked.

  Griffin leaned against the counter and opened his can. "Why what?"

  "The bootlegging," Jen said. "Doesn't seem like a good career choice."

  Griffin shrugged. "My talents lie in a couple of specific areas." He took a mouthful of beer.

  Looking around the kitchen, Jen said, "I'm betting housekeeping isn't in the top ten."

  Griffin laughed, spewing beer onto the floor. "Shit."

  He coughed and wiped his mouth. "You're a real ball buster." He took another swig and swallowed. "My talents are in flying and selling, and I've taken the best opportunity to do both."

  "So you have a plane?" Jen asked.

  He shook his head. "Had. Troopers caught me at a dry village with some vodka and my plane was confiscated. So now I just use mail order."

  Something bumped into the house and Jen froze, her can of beer almost to her mouth. When no other sound followed, she took another gulp. "Don't get too big of a head, but you're not a dumb guy. Why not get a flying job that pays you?"

  Griffin downed the last of the can and placed it on the counter. "I've got a problem with authority figures and I don't play well with others. If you find a company that'll hire me with all that, let me know."

  Jen grinned. "Not something I've ever seen on a job description."

  Griffin smiled back. He folded his arms and waited.

  Things quieted little by little outside until Jen heard nothing else. "Don't think we can wait much longer, or the plane might land before we get there."

  A footstep clomped on the porch and Jen's eyes met Griffin's. "Could be my dad," she whispered. She tiptoed toward the door, but Griffin grasped her arm. "Peek out the window first."

  Jen crept to the window and pulled back a sliver of the curtain.

  Three sailors stumbled around on the porch.

  You've got to be freaking kidding me.

  25

  Jen looked down the road from both sides of the window, then straightened. "What do you see?" Griffin whispered.

  "I don't see any others, but I can't see all of the road from this angle." She choked up on the bat. "There could be a horde just out of sight for all I know."

  Griffin scratched his beard. "We don't have a choice. No time to wait. We have to take those three out before they can sound the alarm." He frowned. "If there are more out there and they attack, we'll have to fall back in here and figure something out."

  Jen nodded. I've got to get to Dad. What if he's injured? "I'm with you."

  Griffin peeked out the window, then backed away. "Two are just a few feet outside the door. It's the third one that worries me. It's halfway across the porch."

  "You go for that one," Jen said. "I'll take care of the other two."

  "How's that going to work?"

  Jen licked her lips. "You run between the first two. Ignore them and get the other one. You'll have to be fast."

  "And you?"

  "I'll take care of mine. Don't you worry."

  Griffin laid the cake package on the couch. "OK. Let's do it."

  They huddled at the door and Griffin turned the knob slowly. He nodded, then breathed, "Three, two, one."

  He burst out the door and rammed between the two closest sailors. Jen stepped out and swung at the head of one of them, hitting it square in the back of the head. It dropped, and Jen reared back while the other sailor turned on her, its eyes glittering. It tilted its head back and Jen jerked the bat around and smashed its nose. Teeth scattered on the porch.

  Griffin rushed the other sailor. They'd lucked out; it had been facing away from them. But it heard him coming and spun to meet the threat. Damn. A fast sailor zombie? What the hell?

  It leapt at Griffin, who jumped to the side and was able to take a chunk from its chest with a swing of the tomahawk.

  Jen's remaining sailor stumbled backward, but managed to keep its feet. It tilted its head back, but all that came out was a weak whistling sound. Jen cocked the bat back and let it fly, crushing the sailor's skull at the temple. It fell to the porch.

  Griffin's sailor pulled itself to its knees. Grunting, Griffin brought the tomahawk overhead and planted the pointed end into the top of the zombie's head. It slumped and lay still.

  Jen backed to the door, her head swiveling left and right. No sounds. No movement. "I think we did it."

  Griffin hurried into the house and returned with the cake package. "Maybe we have some luck after all."

  He ran past the next house with Jen behind him, stopped and scouted the road, then continued to the other house. Jen caught up and grabbed his arm. "My dad."

  "Where was he when you last saw him?"

  She tried to get her bearings. The house they stood next to looked the same as any other, battered by the elements, with a four-wheeler outside and a snow machine with a tarp draped over half of it.

  "It was either right where we're standing, or that next house closer to the school."

  "I'll search the next house. You check out this one." Griffin peered beneath the house. "Nothing under there. Be quick." He ran across the road.

  Jen climbed the stairs, her stomach dropping when she hit a squeaky step. She paused, then proceeded when nothing happened.

  The door was closed and blankets hung on the inside of the windows. She turned the knob and eased the door open. Gripping the bat like her life depended on it, she stepped inside and closed the door, then fumbled on the wall for the light switch.

  She flipped a switch. Dull light cast shadows over a tidy, but threadbare room. Family pictures hung on the wall alongside various skins and animal trophies. An ivory dream catcher hung from the ceiling in the center.

  "Dad," Jen said.

  Two doors stood at the back of the house. She pressed her ear against one. "Dad, are you there?"

  Nothing stirred. She pushed the door open and flipped the light on. A lumpy bed on a rusted metal frame lay against a wall. A new-looking handmade blanket lay on it.

  Jen opened the other room and lit it. Two single beds, a few toys, and children's clothes scattered abou
t.

  Shit. "Dad? Chris?"

  Maybe they'd returned to the school. I swear I'm not leaving this village without them.

  She left the house and stood on the porch, scanning for any sign of trouble. Griffin stood across the road. He held his hands up and shook his head.

  Where the hell are they?

  She walked toward Griffin, but stopped. A noise. A rustle.

  The tarp on the snow machine moved in the wind. She let out a long breath. Getting jumpy.

  But the tarp moved again, near the bottom. "That's not the wind."

  She raised the bat over her head and stalked toward the tarp. It rustled again, but without a gust of wind blowing first. Something pressed against the inside of the tarp. Not an animal. Too big.

  Swallowing, Jen leaned forward and grasped the end of the tarp with one hand. She glanced at Griffin, who hurried to join her.

  She yanked the tarp off, and on the ground staring at her was Marcia's father. He tilted his head back and let out a blood curdling shriek.

  26

  Jen brought the bat down on the old man's skull, silencing him in mid-screech. Griffin ran up. "Marcia's father?"

  Shaking the blood off the bat, Jen said, "Yeah. He takes a licking, but keeps on ticking."

  Several answering shrieks sounded from the direction of the M80 detonations. Griffin didn't need to tell her what to do. Jen raced toward the school. She beat Griffin there by seconds and pulled the door open.

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "My dad might be in here."

  Griffin pointed back the way they'd come. "I don't think so."

  Devin and Chris trotted toward them. Jen ran to her dad and clutched him to her. "I thought you were gone."

  "Can't get rid of me that easy," he murmured.

  She released him. "Where the hell were you?"

  "We saw we weren't going to make it and didn't want you two coming back to get us, so we hid behind the house until the horde passed."

  Chris nodded at the school. "Then we came back here until we heard the fireworks."

  Griffin took the cake out of the package and laid it on the ground twenty feet from the school's entrance. "Get over here. I need to light this before the drizzle screws it up."

  Jen pulled Devin over with her. When they reached Griffin, Devin bent over with his hands on his knees. Jen put a hand on his back. "You OK?"

  "Just out of shape," he gasped. "I'm good to go."

  "You're going to have to be," Griffin said. "We can't wait any longer."

  Chris walked over, his eyes scanning the area. "Why don't the rest of us wait for Griffin on the other side of the school?"

  Devin straightened. Jen took his hand and they followed Chris. By the time they reached the other entrance, Devin's breathing had slowed and become less raspy. Even his color seemed better.

  Griffin streaked toward them, waving for them to get moving. The group raced from the school as a boom came from behind and the sky lit up in blues and greens. Another blast, then dozens of smaller explosions followed, as if a hundred firecrackers went off in the sky.

  Zombie screeches rose but were drowned out by the fireworks.

  Griffin zigzagged between buildings and almost ran into a sailor as he rounded a corner. The zombie let out a quick screech, but Jen's bat dropped the creature. No answering shrieks came.

  They passed Raymond's house as the big finale—a cascading rainbow of colors with big explosions punctuating the show—burst over the village. Jen broke onto the road and headed for the community center. "Didn't think I'd be glad to see this place again."

  Devin stumbled in and slumped onto a chair, his lungs heaving. Jen found water and brought him some. "You take it easy," she said. He nodded, unable to speak.

  Pools of drying blood lay on the floor, especially near the doors. Half-eaten organs were strewn everywhere, clouds of flies buzzing above them. Jen checked the doorways for weapons, but found nothing more than pieces of wood suitable for clubs.

  "Jen." Griffin stood in the kitchen area holding a revolver.

  She hurried over and took it from him. Popping the cylinder open, she checked the rounds. "Only two left unfired."

  Chris stood at the back door, looking out. He turned to the others. "The villagers are already coming back."

  "Shit." Jen closed the cylinder and stuck the revolver in her belt. "We better get up that freaking hill."

  They left the community center single file out the front door, with Chris taking them in a wide arc to the base of the hill. He looked at his watch. "The plane should've been here twenty minutes ago."

  "Then we should get to the boats," Devin said. "We can't stick around here any longer."

  Chris looked up the hill. "Stay on the far edge. The middle is all mud." He clambered up the slope and didn't look back. Griffin followed.

  Jen turned to Devin. "You first. I'll hold the rear."

  "I'm supposed to protect you," Devin said.

  Jen took his hand. "We're supposed to protect each other, and this climb'll take a lot out of you." She squeezed his hand. "My turn to take care of you."

  Devin kissed her on the cheek. "I bought a condo in Anchorage before we flew out here."

  Jen gave him a slight push on the back. "Come on, then, old man. Let's go home."

  Devin trudged up the hill and Jen kept pace behind him, maintaining watch on the houses at their rear. A few minutes later, they climbed high enough to see over the roofs. Zombies gathered in clusters, wandering aimlessly about. Jen's heart raced as she and Devin worked their way higher and she had view of the whole village. Hundreds of zombies filled the streets. Rush hour in Zombietown.

  Devin reached the lip of the flat section of the slope and stepped onto it with one foot, but lost his balance with the other. With a cry of surprise, he slid backward. Jen caught him from sliding farther. Chris and Griffin each grasped a hand and pulled him up.

  A screech sounded behind Jen. A sailor outside the community center had seen them. The call was repeated across the village, and hundreds of zombies raced for the slope.

  Jen pushed her father forward. "Get out of sight. Head for the trailers."

  Chris sprinted for the trailers, but skidded to a halt.

  A sailor lumbered into view, and Jen took a practice swing with her bat. "This is going to be almost too easy."

  The sailor shambled toward her, but Jen caught her breath as another figure rushed them, its eyes burning into hers.

  Raymond.

  27

  Raymond screeched. He zipped past the sailor and bore down on Jen. Chris took a swipe at him, but Raymond bowled him over and continued rumbling toward Jen.

  Devin jumped in front of her and slammed the pipe into Raymond's chest. It might as well have been a pillow as much as it did to slow the huge zombie. Raymond knocked Devin to the side.

  Jen ducked and cracked her bat across Raymond's shin. Raymond hit the ground and tumbled over the edge of the hill. Jen ran to the edge and watched him tumble all the way to the bottom.

  Griffin put a round in the sailor's forehead, and it fell in a heap.

  Jen joined the others, her pulse pounding in her ears. "Son of a bitch. Raymond's damn near unstoppable."

  Chris leaned on his axe and wiped the sweat from his brow. "There are too many of them. We won't make it to the boats with all the undead flooding the streets, so what do we do now? Make a last stand in the trailers?"

  "They won't hold," Devin said. "Too flimsy. Our only choice is to go up to the landing strip."

  Snarls sounded closer from three sides. Griffin looked down the slope. "Most of them can't make it up through the mud. They keep slipping back down, but there's still a couple dozen or more on their way up the sides."

  "What then?" Chris picked his axe up.

  Jen's gaze fell on the fuel tank a hundred feet up the hill. "We burn them?"

  Griffin jogged back to her. "What?"

  "Chris can punch a hole in the side of the fuel
tank with the axe. It empties down the hill and into the village, and we light it. Might not take them all out, but it could kill enough of them to give us a fighting chance to make it to the boats."

  Chris smiled. "Brilliant." He ran around the trailer and toward the tank.

  Jen pulled Devin's arm. "Let's go, Dad."

  The first wave of zombies reached the trailer just as she arrived at the tank. One of the creatures spotted them and let out a screech that was echoed by the rest.

  Chris reached in his pocket and tossed something to Jen. She caught it. It was the Marine Corps lighter. Leo's lighter.

  He hefted the axe. "Be ready to light the fuel when I tell you, but you'd better stand back. You don't want to get any of it on you."

  Griffin grabbed her wrist. "No. That tank'll explode. We have to be under cover first."

  Shit. Jen looked around, her gaze falling on the trailers. Running downhill, they could reach them in seconds. And the fuel would flow right by. She pointed at the trailers. "We'll all take cover behind them."

  Chris nodded. Jen joined Devin and Griffin a few yards to the side. She pulled the revolver from her belt, while Griffin's face hardened and he faced the incoming zombies with his .357. "Six rounds left," he said.

  Devin's eyebrows lowered on his ashen face. "Make them count."

  Chris grunted and attacked the tank with the axe. It bounced off the side, leaving a small dent. He reared back and swung again. The dent didn't seem to get deeper.

  A teenage boy with a gaping chest wound reached them and Devin knocked him away with the pipe. The zombie regained its footing in seconds and rushed him. Jen aimed. Got to time this right. She led the zombie and squeezed the trigger. The gun clicked empty.

  "Shit! I didn't line up the right fucking chamber."

  The .357 Magnum boomed behind her and the teen's face imploded, spewing gore in an arc behind him.

  Two more zombies reached them and Devin managed to jump out of a middle-aged man's way at the last second and whack it with the pipe. He missed the head and instead hit the back of its neck, adding a cracking sound to Chris's grunts as he swung the axe.