by bret Wellman
As soon as they got onto the street he knew they were no longer in the safe zone. The street was loaded with smashed up, abandoned cars. It was as if all the drivers had gone on a road rage before getting out and simply walking away. Almost all of them were banged up in one way or another, every now and then one would be upside down. Trash was blowing everywhere and there were streaks of blood in random places. Not far from the subway sat a bus on flat tires with all of its windows smashed.
That bus must have been like a giant Twinkie for the bastards; it was a grim thought that Dan couldn't help thinking.
A half-mile behind them he could see a maelstrom of commotion. That is what's left of the safe zone, he thought as he watched thousands of zombies all fighting their way in one direction.
Ahead of them was water, but what water? Dan was too disoriented to know. To their left and right, hungry, dead eyes peered out from the buildings.
"Don't l-l-look around, just k-keep moving," said Dan when he noticed they had slowed down.
He was beginning to gain some feeling in his legs again, allowing them to move slightly faster.
As they zigzagged through the maze of cars the tail of zombies following them began to grow. They would trickle out from the shops and apartment buildings and add to the ranks.
Dan could feel himself heating up as they increased their pace. He was no longer shaking uncontrollably, nor clinging to Zoey as tightly. They were beginning to jog, gaining speed with every passing second. The zombies were starting to fall behind.
"No more subways," said Zoey as they split to go around an overturned taxi cab.
Dan inhaled, feeling the burn in his lungs. "Deal."
When Dan's speed began to decrease again it was not because of the cold, it was the fact that he was running out of breath. He stopped gaining ground and the tail of bodies was soon closing in.
The zombies were never going to grow tired, and he was simply out of gas. He tried to fight the pain and keep going but it felt like his body was shutting down.
They were getting close to an intersection when Dan was yanked to a stop. He tried to keep running but it felt like he was a fly caught in a trap. Whatever had grabbed him pulled hard, back and forth.
Dan looked over his shoulder and saw the dead face trying to bite a chuck from his backpack. It had a mouth full of bag, one of its teeth had broken on the zipper.
Dan let his arms drop through the loops and stepped out of the backpack. When he turned back the zombie was still clutching it, the other zombies were still thirty feet behind.
That is my future, Dan thought as he stared at the backpack. They killed Barns and now the fuckers are trying to steal my future.
A blanket of red hot anger fell upon him and he stepped forward, grabbing the back pack with two hands.
"You can't have it, you bastard!"
He kicked his heel into the zombie’s groin and tried to shove it away. The thing’s death grip was unwavering.
"Dan!" Zoey screamed.
He ignored her and kept pushing, his face turning red.
"Let go!" he yelled.
He could see the other zombies closing in through his peripheral vision. He yanked and tried shaking the bag free. It wouldn't budge.
The other zombies were moving for the kill. They crowded in, reaching for him.
When he knew he had no more time, he punched the zombie in the forehead and sent it stumbling for the others.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Zoey asked when they had started running again.
It had been an extremely stupid move, he realized. They had lost valuable ground and the zombies were now closer than ever. They would be run down before they could reach the next intersection.
“If I’m going to die,” Dan huffed, “I’m glad I got to spend my last few days with you and Barns.”
“Just keep running, Dan,” said Zoey.
“It’s no use, my legs are giving out.”
As he spoke his right leg buckled and he had to grab onto a car to keep from falling. The fear of being eaten drove him to put more pressure on his other leg and limp forward.
Near the intersection, Dan could feel a rumble under his feet and hear the clanking of metal against pavement. He could also hear the quiet hum of an engine that sounded to him like a tractor. Had it been a normal New York day he might have never heard it, but the streets were empty now and the noise carried.
He glanced over at their reflection on the side of a building; the zombies were only ten feet behind them. He begged his legs to push harder, knowing they would give out at any moment. A charley horse persisted in the leg that had buckled, making him wince in pain.
All at once the noise from the tractor burst onto their street and a giant, cream-colored, army tank rolled out into the intersection in front of them. Its huge cannon was aimed straight at them and it was flanked by a solid thirty soldiers.
"Get down!" One of the soldier’s voices echoed through the street.
Dan dove to the ground, tackling Zoey as he went. The pavement came up fast and unforgiving, scraping and bruising his arm on impact.
There was a teeth-rattling boom as the tank fired and the street exploded behind them. The percussion jarred his head and caused the dust on the ground to bounce into his face.
After the cannon, there was a break in action for only a heartbeat before the thirty soldiers opened a can of whoop ass right over the top of their heads.
Dan put his arm over Zoey's head and tried to stay as low as he could. The bullets sounded like bugs as they whizzed by, some only feet above them. Dan closed his eyes and waited for it to end.
The fight went on for a solid ten minutes, with the tank firing a round off every so often. When it was all over, Dan felt someone pat him on the shoulder.
"You all right?"
Dan looked up into the face of a kid who couldn't have been older than nineteen. He was decked out in full army gear, complete with a rifle that was slung over his shoulder. There was a small camera mounted onto the top of his helmet that seemed to watch everything.
"Yeah," said Dan, getting up. He reached down and helped Zoey to her feet. "You guys came just in time, I don't think we would have made it any longer."
The soldier nodded, "Just following orders."
By the time Dan heard the jet, it had already passed. He turned in time to see the napalm strike hit the safe zone. A giant ball of fire consumed Fifth Avenue and everything in it, including the zombies. The soldiers cheered the jet on as it disappeared back into the sky, leaving a streak of white as it went.
When it was time to move on, the soldiers made them stand at the corner of the intersection with a small guard of three men while they waited for a helicopter to fly in and pick them up. As they stood there, soldiers and tanks rolled by like they were some kind of End Of The World parade.
Eventually Dan couldn't take it anymore; he began to walk down the street from where he had just come. His small guard tried to protest but he ran off before they could say anything. He assumed they wouldn't shoot him for it and he was right. Looking back, he could see that Zoey looked madder than any of the soldiers. He supposed he should have at least given her a head’s up.
With the soldiers and Zoey behind him, he began picking through the bodies on the ground. He was hoping his backpack would have been easy to spot, but it wasn't.
He searched for what felt like hours, coming up empty-handed. Eventually the sun started to sink and their rescue helicopter arrived.
As he kicked over yet another corpse with his foot, he could hear Zoey and the soldiers calling for him. He knew that if he didn't go soon, they would leave him.
He finally called off his search, realizing he was just thankful for simply being alive.
He was disappointed, for sure, but he was alive; it was what he kept telling himself as he headed for the helicopter.
Chapter 34
They got the bastards six months later. They were hiding out in a warehouse in Mexic
o when they were caught. The bust had involved three police helicopters and multiple American SWAT teams, aided by Mexican officials. The end result had been the capture of multiple biochemical engineers and two historians. At the same time as this was happening, the homes of several average, everyday Americans were broken into and the homeowners arrested. It turned out that all of these people were part of the online hacker group responsible for taking over the television’s emergency broadcast system.
Dan watched this all unfolding live as he and Zoey went over their college transcripts. Most of Manhattan had been shut down for the foreseeable future so they had both agreed to move somewhere else. Furthermore, Dan had decided that he wanted to give college a try so they had both enrolled in the same school together.
"What would you like to drink?" asked their tan-skinned waitress, her attention mostly on the large television hanging over the bar.
"Water, please," said Zoey.
"Pepsi," said Dan.
"Is Coke okay?"
Fuck, no, Coke is not okay, Dan thought. "That's fine," he said.
Zoey ran her finger across his transcript, brushing over the letters KCC, and coming to a rest on his math class.
"I can tutor you through this catch-up crap. With my help, you will be through all the work and pass by the end of the month."
"I don't think that is how it works," said Dan.
Zoey didn't look fazed. "Yeah, I had to take one of these courses my first year of college."
The waitress walked up with their drinks and glanced down at the transcripts. "You guys are going to school at Kapi'olani? I try to take at least two classes there every semester."
As Zoey smiled and began making small talk with the girl, Dan focused on the television. The police had a group of men lined up outside of the warehouse; they lay face down in the dirt with their hands cuffed behind their backs. This was all captured by a helicopter that was circling above.
You fuckers are going to fry, Dan thought as he watched them.
He began thinking about Barns, the joyful bastard had been popping up in his dreams for a solid six months now. He was with his kids, he bragged about how happy it made him constantly.
Dan had thought he had seen the last of the guy when he jumped off that fire truck. Imagine his shock when a video went viral showing a giant, Santa Claus-looking zombie. The amazing thing in the video is that it takes four head shots to take the guy down. There was a small detail that might have been missed by the rest of the world but had not gone unnoticed by Dan. He was found in a liquor store.
I be at peace was all he said in Dan's dream that night.
Dan glanced over at Zoey as she scanned her menu. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a pink flower tucked behind her ear. She wore a white bikini top and a skirt that looked more like a cloth she had wrapped around herself. Either way, she looked good.
"Have you decided what you want to do yet?" she asked, catching him looking at her.
"Remind me what my options are again?"
"Well, let's see, we were supposed to go take surfing lessons today but we could always go back to the house and try to come up with something better to do."
Dan smiled. "I will take option B followed by option A, in that order."
Zoey shot him a wink before turning back to the menu.
As it turns out, you can do a lot with a million dollars but it sure goes fast.
He had found it on his sullen walk to the helicopter six months earlier. The soldiers had been screaming for him to hurry, Zoey watching him from the blanket she had been given. The zombie had died against a brick wall on the side of the street, the backpack still clutched in its dead hands. He recognized the zombie immediately. He didn't know what was more shocking, the fact that he had found the backpack, or the fact that it was being held by an old friend.
The poor bastard had seen better days, that was for sure. He was covered in bite marks and lacerations, there was a chunk missing from his neck and a bullet hole in his forehead; the exit wound was quite large in the back.
"Thank you, Dicky," he had said before taking the backpack and heading for the helicopter.
As he sat there, six months later, in the warm, salty air he began to relax. He had been wound up for months, suffering from bouts of post-traumatic stress. It wasn't until the last couple of weeks that he had begun to grow more comfortable in his skin. He knew Zoey had a hard time coping with it at first but, to the girl’s credit, she held herself together pretty well.
It felt good knowing he wasn't going to have to do anything but surf that day. School would not start for another month and, until then, they were on an extended vacation.
His phone began to ring, he pulled it out and checked that it was an unknown number before sliding it back into his pocket. He had been getting one or two calls a day for the past month; most were from authors wanting to write a story about him, a few were from the big-time cable talk shows.
There hadn't been very many survivors in Manhattan at the end of it all; fewer than fifty in total. The zombies had ransacked everything, leaving no door unbroken and no room unchecked. There were a few people that blamed the carnage on bad planning, as if millions of lives would have been saved had they just done a few zombie fire drills.
Dan had his own theory; it was as if the zombies could detect life. They had an extra sense; maybe they could smell it in the air. It led them forward, telling them where all the humans were. In the end, the only way to survive was to keep moving.
Being one of so few survivors meant gaining international recognition. Dan and Zoey had been all over the news and even got to shake the President’s hand.
"We will both take the number three special with hash browns," said Zoey to the waitress.
Dan snapped out of his reverie to look at her as the waitress walked away. "How do you know I didn't want something else?"
"Because you haven't looked at the menu since we came in here, and you were all but completely ignoring the waitress when she asked to take your order."
"Fair enough."
She smiled and took a sip from her drink before turning to look at the television.
The news was following a high-speed chase involving a sports sedan and twenty cop cars. The owner of the sedan was one of the lead members in a hacker group, the headline said.
"Doesn't look like the zombie terrorists are having a very good day," said Zoey.
Dan smiled, "I hope they drive him right off a cliff."
As their food came and Dan took in the aroma, his stomach growled. He could not wait to begin scarfing it down.
The sun was beginning to grow hot and the ocean was beckoning. Birds chirped out from the jungle and the locals laughed and waved as they passed. The Hawaiian air was warm and the breeze felt great. Dan took in a deep breath and exhaled.
Table of Contents
Text copyright 2013 by Bret Wellman
To Kris and Kenny, who both really really wanted a sex scene
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
