Hurricane Dan (A Zombie Novel)

by bret Wellman

  "Well, should we get going?" asked Zoey.

  Dan climbed into the car and turned the engine. The thing cranked for a few seconds before deciding to turn over. He was thankful when it did, he didn't want to have to go back and explain that he couldn't get the car started.

  "Alright, let's get this rust bucket moving," said Dan as Zoey climbed into the passenger side.

  In order to get to Forty-first and Broadway, Dan had to drive around to the exact opposite side of the library, behind Bryant Park, and turn down Forty-first. He then had to drive one block to reach Broadway.

  As soon as they turned on Forty-first Street the city once again became barren of all life. It was the no man zone between the zombie takeover and civilization. As far as Dan was concerned, it might as well have been called the twilight zone.

  "This is so weird," said Zoey.

  Dan glanced out at the empty stores with their broken windows, blood smeared in some way or another on everything. The cars they passed were riddled with bullet holes. There had been a battle there; the safe zone had been carved out in blood.

  "If you ever wanted to know what the apocalypse looks like, take a gander," said Dan.

  As they pulled up to Broadway he could see that some of the National Guardsmen were stationed on the opposite side of the street. They had stacked up a line of sandbags and topped it off with barbed wire. Beyond that, there was no shortage of zombies stumbling towards them. Fortunately, they were dropping dead at a safe distance.

  They sat there idling at the intersection for a minute, watching the soldiers shooting out over the barricade every twenty seconds or so.

  Dan's heart jumped into his throat as the front doors flew open to a Starbucks on the corner closest to his driver’s side door. There was no glass in the door but the frame was still there.

  A National Guardsman came out balancing three steaming coffee cups in his hands.

  "Go ahead and pull up to the barricade," he said, nodding towards the other side of the street.

  Dan watched as Zoey's eyes zoned in on the coffee. "What I wouldn't give for one of those right about now.”

  Dan put the car in park and killed the engine. "Two coffees coming up," he said as he got out of the car.

  The National Guardsman watched him for a moment before heading across the street.

  Dan opened the front door and was surprised to see the power was on. He wondered what it took to knock the power out in the city; more than a zombie outbreak apparently.

  If it weren't for the fact that all the windows had been smashed in and the tables knocked over, the Starbucks looked like it was ready for business.

  Dan made his way around the counter, stepping over a pool of blood to get there. He immediately found himself overwhelmed; he had never been behind the counter of a coffee shop before. There were so many knobs, pots, pans, cups, toppings, he didn't even know where to start.

  "Step aside Dan, I'll take it from here," said Zoey as she came around the counter. "What do you want?"

  "Surprise me," said Dan, wondering if she was going to be able to figure out how everything worked.

  Sure enough, she knew her way around, hopping back and forth from machine to machine. It couldn't have taken her any more than a minute before Dan's drink was in his hand, whipped cream and all.

  "Well, what do you think?"

  Dan took a sip; it was a little sweeter than he was used to. "Not bad."

  "I knew it. You look like a latte guy, that or a black coffee guy. They usually look the same," she said as she began making her own drink. "I used to be a barista before I got my internship."

  "What did you go to school for?" he asked.

  "Architecture," she said. "I picked up my bachelor’s, I want to go back for my masters. If I did that, I would be making a ton of money, not that that's what's important."

  "It's more important than being homeless," he said sardonically.

  Zoey finished making her own drink and they began to head back towards the car.

  "What did you go to school for?" she asked.

  "I didn't, when I got out of high school I went straight to work, and never looked back." He failed to mention that up until the zombies he had been living off the land, or the pavement as far as being homeless in the city was concerned.

  “A working man, I like that,” she said as they walked back to the car.

  Dan took another sip and felt the heat sear his tongue. He winced a little but tried not to let on.

  “Something like that,” he said as he started the car.

  Having her call him a working man and sounding so enthusiastic made him feel like more of a bum than he was. He felt worthless, a working man was above him.

  She was watching, he had to force a smile that fought to turn the corners of his mouth down. He looked straight forward as he started the car.

  What the fuck ever, he thought, it doesn’t even make a difference with all these zombies. I could be Frank fucking Sinatra for all it matters now. The thought cheered him up a little.

  On Broadway, they had to drive across four lanes in order to reach the barricade.

  "Another fallen serviceman," said one of the National Guardsmen, walking up to their car. "Damn."

  He grabbed the body off the roof and hoisted it onto his shoulder. The other guardsmen moved aside for him as he walked up and tossed the body over to the other side of the sandbags.

  Dan popped the trunk and began to get out of the car, he felt out of place on the front line of a battlefield in street clothes. A few of the guardsmen fired a round off, making him even more uneasy.

  The zombies were traveling towards them in small packs, they stretched out for as far as he could see. It seemed like every thirty seconds or so a group would stumble into firing distance and the guardsmen would take them out. An immense pile of bodies was beginning to form between them and the next stop light. Any new zombies had to climb over the stack only to get shot and tumble down the other side.

  "That's one hell of a pile you are working on," said Dan as he unloaded the supplies.

  The guardsmen eagerly gulped down the water bottles and took stock of the fresh ammunition.

  "Any higher and they might not be able to climb it," said one of them. "We have yet to decide if we should leave it or risk moving it."

  Another guy looked back from his rifle. "I still say we should torch it. If we get lucky the fire will burn a few live ones when they try to climb over."

  "I'm not opposed to that idea," said the first. "I'm willing to try anything that could save us some bullets."

  "How is this all going?" asked Dan. "Having any problems keeping out the zombies?"

  "It isn't as good as I would like it to be," said the first guardsman.

  It was the exact opposite of what Dan was hoping to hear. "What do you mean?"

  "Well for starters, we are spread too thin. We try to let the guys go back to the library to get some rest but for the most part they have to sleep here in case we need them. Ammunition gets handed to us on a timed schedule, which is not good if we need extra. Now, don't get me wrong, we are holding these things back with ease right now. Unfortunately that might not be the case an hour from now or an hour after that. So far, the stream of zombies coming in has doubled every twelve hours or so. If that keeps happening then I suggest you start praying."

  "So you don't think you can hold them," asked Zoey.

  "Easy now," said the guardsman. "I don't want you guys heading back and starting rumors. All I am saying is that the zombies better stop increasing at the rate they are. Personally I believe that will happen soon, they have got to start running out of bodies at some point."

  "Yeah, but there is a huge number of people on the island of Manhattan at any given moment. It is hard to imagine you guys being able to take them all out," said Dan.

  The guardsman looked at him like he was annoyed. "A large number, yeah, but it is still a finite number. We are going to stop them."

  "But wha
t if you are wrong?"

  "Well, then I guess we are fucked, guy."

  Dan took the hint and set down the last of the boxes. "I really hope we are not fucked."

  "Amen to that," said another of the guardsmen.

  They were only a short ways away from Fortieth Street. They needed only to head one block down Broadway. The dead zombies there lay in a thick carpet across the entire block on the other side of that barricade. The guardsmen there had tried to space out where the zombies were when they killed them, preventing another hill situation.

  When Dan and Zoey showed up they helped to unload the supplies and were quick to send them on their way.

  Dan noted how different the two small platoons were. Both went about doing the same job, the same way, but they had such different styles. He wondered which one was the weakest link and desperately hoped he would never find out.

  Chapter 25

  It had taken a few hours but eventually Dan and Zoey were able to deliver supplies to every street with a barricade. Unfortunately, by the time they reached the last barricade it was just about time to restock the first. Dan was thankful when two different civilians came out to relieve them.

  After that, Dan had started to make his way back to Bryant Park. Zoey stopped him, suggesting they let Dicky know that they were done and see if he had anything else for them to do. Dan wanted to object, thinking that if they asked for something else to do, they might be given it.

  When they reached Dicky they found that he was in a meeting of sorts and decided it was best not to interrupt until he was done.

  The room was cozy, with a high ceiling and a long rectangular table where everybody sat. There were bookshelves on the walls but they were mostly ignored.

  "How long?" said Dicky. He was speaking to an assortment of men and women. Most were cops and National Guardsmen, a few were firemen, there were about fifteen in total. None of them seemed to care that Dan and Zoey were lingering at the edge of the room.

  "It's hard to tell, there are a lot of variables to consider," said one of the guardsmen.

  "How long?" Dicky repeated.

  "If everything stays as it is, we should be able to make it through tomorrow."

  "And then we run out of ammunition?" asked Dicky.

  "Yes, but there is more. If the zombies keep increasing at the rate they are, we will be overpowered before we can even get the chance to run out of ammunition."

  "The perimeter is just too big," said another guardsman. "We need to pull it back."

  Dicky nodded. "I've got guys working on barricades at all the intersections inside the safe zone. You will be able to fall back two times without compromising the library."

  "I don’t think you understand," said the first National Guardsman. "These things keep doubling in numbers. At some point we aren't going to be able to stop them."

  "So what solution are you suggesting?" asked Dicky.

  "I don't know, but we need to do something now, before it is too late."

  "My guys have been working on a little side project," said one of the firefighters. "They set out to siphon the gas from every car inside the safe zone that wasn't being used. They are using the gas to fill glass bottles they find inside the buildings. The idea was that it might come in handy to have a stash of Molotov cocktails lying around."

  "I could think of a few ways we could use those," said the guardsman. "It might end up saving us some bullets."

  Dicky nodded, "That's good, every idea like that is going to add up. Encourage your men to think of as many ideas as they possibly can. If anything might work we will implement it immediately." He laced his fingers and looked the guardsman in the eyes. "Any word from the outside world?"

  "The pandemic was far wider than they had originally expected. So far I have heard a report of three separate outbreaks all along the east coast. There are a lot of places that, at best, could be considered out of control. The government has swung into attack mode, they are giving it hell. The outbreak is big though, and they are working it from the outside in. I could tiptoe around this all day, I would rather just come out and say it, we aren't going to get any backup for a long time."

  Zoey grabbed Dan's arm, jerking him so he was no longer looking at the group of people sitting at the table. He caught his reflection in the mirror and was shocked to see how pale white his skin had gone.

  Zoey kept tugging, pulling him out of the room.

  "I've heard all I want from that meeting," she said when they were around the corner.

  Dan couldn't believe what he had heard. The zombies were going to break into the safe zone before anyone could come to save them; they were all going to die. Well, fuck.

  They were standing at the bottom of a grand set of stairs. Dan leaned against the thick, marble railing. He noticed that Zoey didn't look quite as distraught as he did.

  "Did you hear that?" He asked.

  She shrugged, "Yeah but I don't see the use in worrying about things we can't change."

  "We are going to die."

  "All the more reason to enjoy every minute we have left," she said and began to climb the stairs. "Come on."

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "Exploring the library, are you coming or not?"

  He debated it for a moment, he didn't really have the motivation to do anything but sit there and sulk. He idly wondered what would happen if they got caught and dismissed the idea, simply because he didn't care. He followed Zoey up the steps.

  "Come on," she said, leading him down a hallway with flowers on stands and a carpet patterned with big red diamond shapes. The walls were covered with old oil paintings.

  Dan watched her as she went along, her dark ponytail bouncing with her slender frame. There was a graceful elegance to her that he would never understand. How could someone seem so weightless and carefree in the wake of all that had happened?

  She stopped at a large wooden door with rich designs carved into it. She cracked it open and made sure the room was clear before slipping inside. Dan surveyed the hall before following; the lights were dim, there was no one there to stop them.

  He went through the door, making sure to close it as silently as he could.

  The room he had entered was the size of the average class room. There was a square table on one end of the room with seating for a bunch of people to use. On the other end were three rows of bookshelves, stretching from floor to ceiling. There were books on the walls as well, lining most of the room.

  "We found a study room," said Dan, trying to break the sudden silence.

  Zoey was at the first bookshelf. "Dictionaries, thesauruses, encyclopedias, they're all remnants of a time before the Internet." She took one finger and pulled on the top of one of the books, letting it fall to the floor.

  "It wasn't that long ago," he said. “By not long, I mean literally ten years ago.”

  "We could die at any moment," she said, walking to the end of the shelf. "So why not do everything we want to do, when we want to do it?"

  He watched her walk around the shelf and out of sight. His heart was beginning to thump hard in his chest, he felt a familiar thrill creeping up inside of him that he felt every time he stepped out of his comfort zone.

  "Of course," he said, letting his backpack slide from his shoulders to rest on the floor.

  He walked around the shelf to find her surrounded by two rows of books, a dictionary open in her hand.

  "That's what I was thinking, too," she said and dropped the book.

  He was walking towards her, she shoved him hard. His back hit the shelf, jarring some of the books loose. She pressed against him, pulling herself close. Dan only had a moment to register the pain in his shoulder before he felt her lips.

  They were soft and smooth, he tasted mint, as if she had just brushed or was chewing gum.

  He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. The feelings her kiss sent racing through his body awakened a thirst that he had only slightly known was there. Having her li
ke this fulfilled his desire, yet drove him crazy with new desire. He wanted more of her, he wanted all of her. He ran his hands up and down her body, feeling her curves. She reached up and took a fistful of his hair.

  He could feel his self-control dwindle under the power of the other emotions running through his body. He had an itch and there was only one way he knew to scratch it.

  He reached down and grabbed her shirt, pulling it up over her head. She grabbed his pants and undid the button.

  One by one, their clothes began to slip off and fall to the ground. It wasn't long before there was nothing between them but air.

  He kissed her neck and licked her collarbone, sliding his hand across her bare skin and cupping her breast as she gasped and took a handful of him.

  She was so warm and soft, her touch sent tingles through his body.

  He lifted her off the ground and spun, propping her against the bookshelf. She shifted, her hand guiding him. Her body tensed as he felt himself slide inside her.

  He flexed as a wave of euphoria washed over him. She began to rock, her breaths coming in short bursts that matched their motion.

  The entire world disappeared, there was only her, only passion.

  He wanted more of her, he pulled her in tighter, his muscles shook with fatigue. A few books tumbled from the shelf and landed at their bare feet.

  Zoey was growing louder, moans beginning to escape every time she let out a breath.

  In the back of Dan's mind he suspected that anyone walking by the room might hear them and barge in. He ignored his suspicion to keep all of his concentration on her. Her tender skin that was still tan after a long summer of sun, beads of sweat beginning to form along her dilated pores, every muscle in her body flexed.

  She pushed harder, her pelvis tightening and her stomach stretching. Her hips gyrated, she was beginning to lose control of her movements. Her fingers raked the back of his neck and shoulders.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling as hard as he could to keep her steady. She pushed against him, her body beginning to tremble.

  Her moans burst out louder than before. Dan clamped his hand down on her mouth to muffle the sound. The shelf seemed to give way around them and they were showered in a waterfall of books. One bounced off of his shoulder; he barely noticed.