The Roaming

by W J Hegarty

  “Hey, hey, slow down. What are you going on about?” Jeremiah shook the man to attention.

  “Carriers, man! They’re everywhere. Right fucking behind me. We gotta go!” Dave pleaded, pointing back to the edge of the darkened street, only five houses down.

  Jeremiah released him and let the man continue his mad dash through the neighborhood as the source of Dave’s fear was absolutely clear. A few houses down, the homes at the end of the cul-de-sac were surrounded by infected, hundreds of them bursting from the tree line. Across the way, a family was being torn apart inside of a van, blood-covered windows smeared by flailing limbs. Another woman opened her front door only to let in an avalanche of deadly attackers. Whatever was happening at the southern edge of town was something else entirely. Up here, where it was deemed safe, they had been taken unawares by a second phalanx of infected. Takashi’s assessment was wrong—Pepperbush was surrounded.

  Jeremiah fired three rounds at the oncoming horde. One of them fell but got right back up. People continued to emerge from their homes in response to the gunfire and increased commotion. Confused and scared, some people darted straight for their cars. Others turned and locked themselves in their homes. An elderly man grabbed his chest and fell to the ground. The situation had grown out of control as quickly as it began.

  “Everyone, out now. Leave everything. Just go!” Jeremiah shouted.

  He fired off three more shots for the benefit of anyone who thought the first burst might have been a fluke. Jeremiah pointed directly at a nervous couple peering out of a window and waved them out of their home. He banged on the side of their van as he made his way down the street.

  Jeremiah turned to his radio in an effort to warn Aiko a few blocks off. “Northernmost homes have been compromised. Repeat, we have been overrun. Infected have breached the area. Aiko, do you copy? Over.” Jeremiah began a light jog away from the incoming infected.

  Cars sped past, sliding on the slick pavement, while other residents ran as fast as they could. The people on foot tried to keep one step ahead of the undead wave while desperately begging for their neighbors to stop for them.

  Three-quarters of a mile away at the other end of the street, Aiko picked up Jeremiah’s transmission. “Jeremiah, what’s happening up there? Where are you?” Aiko shielded her eyes, straining to see through the storm.

  Oncoming headlights grew larger until she jumped out of the way, splashing down in a mud puddle. The car’s driver never attempted to slow, much less avoid hitting her.

  “What the fuck?” she said as more cars barreled down the street past her.

  Her radio came alive. “East end of the block, Aiko. All the way down. It’s chaos over here. Hundreds of infected appeared out of nowhere!” Jeremiah yelled. This time, gunshots were clear over Aiko’s radio.

  “Jeremiah, what’s happening? Can you hear me? Jeremiah?” Aiko shouted, though Jeremiah offered no response as the radio went silent. Aiko tried the radio again. “Jeremiah, Jeremiah, come in. Can you hear me? Goddammit, talk to me!” she yelled into dead air.

  The distance was black. It kept its secrets, save for the occasional gore-splattered vehicle speeding past.

  Tobias locked his front door behind him before joining Aiko out in the street. He pulled his coat tightly up to his neck. Tiny droplets of rain bounced from his chattering jaw. He held his umbrella over the young soldier’s head in a near-pointless attempt at shielding her from the storm while she continued to fumble with an unresponsive radio. “Aiko, what’s happening?” Tobias strained to see through the deluge.

  “It’s bad, Tobias. Get your family loaded up. We don’t have much time. I have to make a call. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t leave me.” Aiko pointed Tobias back toward his home. “Aiko to Takashi. Come in, Colonel. Do you read me? Over.”

  “Sitrep, Aiko,” Takashi promptly responded.

  “Sir, Jeremiah radioed in. Said they were under attack a few blocks away. It sounds like a second wave of infected came out of nowhere. I heard gunfire. Then I lost contact with him, sir.” Aiko paced, awaiting a response.

  “It’s worse than we thought, then. Okay, that’s it. Get your people out of there, Aiko. Radzinski and Rachel are pulling back as we speak. The southern defenses are a complete loss.”

  “What about the others, sir?”

  “No one else is responding. For now, I have to assume they’re KIA. We have too many civilians depending on us to sit on our hands. Gather everyone up and get them the hell out of here. I’m calling the evac now.”

  “Yes, sir. Aiko out.” Aiko looked around at the panicking people quickly filling the street, then back down the road in Jeremiah’s direction. She continued to pace while rubbing her belly. She whispered, “Goddammit, Jerry.”

  4:36 am - Shearburn Residence

  Vanessa lowered herself from the slick roof. Coarse shingles scraped against the soft flesh of her exposed skin, tearing dozens of tiny cuts. Her legs kicked and flailed as she tried to get a foothold on the slippery corner post with bare feet. Exhausted from her encounter with Jim, she lost her grip and fell into the mud below. The cold rain was jarring enough to get her back upright. A myriad of gunshots and moans in the distance kept her moving. She hobbled out of her front yard, across the street, and into the adjacent woods. She leaned against a thick oak to catch her breath. Only for a moment, though, as nearby rustling bushes compelled her to flight.

  Fighting through the pain of a badly sprained ankle, Vanessa pressed forward, finding the strength to continue running through the darkened woods. Sharp tree limbs crashed against her wet skin, and pouring rain filled her eyes as she burst from the tree line and into the back of a Main Street alley. Each footfall slapped hard against the saturated pavement. Fatigue and the change in terrain buckled her legs. She tumbled into the side of a dumpster, bounced off the unforgiving steel, and cracked her head against the grimy concrete. Vanessa lay in the alley, unconscious.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Gate

  The storms fury was unrelenting. Worsening weather conditions remained an issue on the roof of Mother Leeds. “No infected yet on my end of Main Street, sir. Wish I could say the same for the rest of the place, though,” Garrett said. “From what I can tell, Miller’s position has been completely overrun. I’m sorry, sir, but if any of them made it out, I can’t be sure from here.” Garrett allowed himself a moment’s respite from the scope.

  At the other end of the radio, Takashi hesitated for a moment before responding. “It’s bad all over, Garrett. I want that gate open ASAP.”

  “Copy that, sir. How bad is it?”

  “Real bad. The town will be a complete loss in a matter of minutes. Get on with it, Lieutenant. Keep the exit clear for as long as you can, but make sure to get your people out of there—all of them. Takashi out.” He broke off the transmission.

  “Shit.” Garrett waved over Damon and Ryan, who by then were standing close enough to have picked up the gist of the conversation.

  “I caught enough of that shit to know what’s up, man. We should just leave. Fuck this place.” Damon dropped his gear and made a beeline for the ladder leading to the bar below.

  “I don’t know, dude. They said we had to watch the gate.” Ryan was pacing, a step toward Damon, another back toward Garrett’s nest. “I don’t know, man,” he said again.

  “No one is going anywhere. At least you’re not. Not yet, anyway.” Garrett stood. His imposing silhouette froze both young men in place.

  “Say what? If anyone’s leaving, it’s going to be me,” Damon replied with a foot on the ladder.

  “You can leave, but not just yet. I’ll need ten, maybe twelve minutes of your time first. After that, you’re free to go. I don’t have time to argue, so you’re just going to have to suck it up.” Garrett reloaded his rifle without so much as a second glance at Damon or Ryan. “I have to make this brief, so listen up. We’re bugging out, all of us, but I need to open that gate first. We can’t exactly go anywhere if we�
��re trapped in town, now can we? You won’t make it ten steps past that gate on foot.” Garrett offered his rifle up to Damon, who was hesitant. A quick assessment of options brought him around.

  “Alright, what do you need us to do?” Damon handled the rifle, quickly familiarizing himself with the weapon as best as he could under less than ideal circumstances.

  “Fantastic. Look, infected are beginning to pile up outside the gate. It’s not too bad yet, but it will be soon, so I need you to cover me while I make for the bus.” Garrett pointed out the lone barrier trapping them all on this side of the berm. “Don’t worry about the carriers behind me. Aim for the ones where I’m going to be. Any of those things gets close to me, I’ll take care of them. Don’t even think about shooting anything close to me. Once I’m inside the bus, aim for the ones closest to the front and work your way out from there. As soon as I get that thing started, I’m going to head south. Most of them should follow me, and when that happens, aim for the ones outside of the gate and nearest to the road.”

  He pulled the rifle away from Damon’s eye. The kid was already lining up shots, and for a moment, Garrett second-guessed his choice for covering fire, until he heard a slight sniffle from Ryan’s direction only a few feet from the conversation.

  “Listen to me, Damon. It is vital that we do not let those fuckers bottleneck, or no one is getting out of here alive. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Garrett shoved the rifle back into Damon’s chest.

  “Yeah, yeah, I got this. Don’t let them pile up.” Damon settled into Garrett’s nest and began checking over his rifle.

  “Remember, just like we’ve been doing all night. Ryan will bring you a fresh magazine whenever you need it. Don’t panic and we will get through this. People are counting on you, Damon.” Garrett turned to Ryan, whose hands were shaking but already loading another magazine.

  “Are we good, son?” Garrett steadied Ryan’s hands.

  “Yes, yeah, yeah, I… I’m good, sir.” Ryan’s reply didn’t exactly inspire confidence in the old soldier, but shaky as it was, it would have to do. There was no more time to waste. Garrett had to go.

  “Okay, gentlemen, I’m off. I’ll meet you just outside the gate on your way out. Fifteen minutes tops.” Garrett disappeared from sight, down the ladder and into the bar.

  Ayn’s fresh cup of coffee smashed to the floor as Garrett burst into the bar and rushed past her in a beeline for Markus. Samantha and Ayn were busy rummaging through a closet when he interrupted.

  Garrett tipped over a large plastic recycling bin, spilling its filthy contents about the floor. “Gather up everything else you even think looks useful and pile it up by the door. Food, water, and strong alcohol are the priority. None of that fruity shit. Toiletries and any kind of first aid supplies you can find are essential as well. Anything else you come across that looks useful, great. Pick it up, but save it for last. Remember that.” Garrett had a few bottles of whiskey by the neck and dropped them into the container before pulling Markus aside, closer to the front door.

  “Wait a minute here, man. What’s going on?” Markus tensed up. He wasn’t green when it came to having plans ripped out from beneath him, but Garrett was supposed to spend the night on the roof. If he was down here already, and rummaging for supplies no less, something had changed and not for the better.

  “I don’t have time to explain, Markus, other than to say we are leaving. The town has been compromised on two fronts. It’s bad out there. Real bad.” Garrett grabbed an armful of various liquor bottles and placed them on the bar. He turned his attention to the girls. “This is the kind of alcohol I’m talking about. The stuff we can clean wounds and disinfect with. None of that sipping shit. I can’t stress that enough.”

  “It’s that bad?” Samantha’s hands were shaking as she rummaged for more bottles. Their clinking together gave her away.

  Garrett steadied a bottle she was nearly dropping. “Worse,” he said. “A second wave came out of nowhere and hit us up north. We had no idea it was going to be like this.” Garrett unlocked the front door. He kept a hand on the doorknob while he peeked through the blinds. “I’m going for the gate. Someone needs to get that bus out of the way if any of us are going to make it out of here alive. I’ll get the bus out of sight, and with any luck, the attention will pull most of those things along with me. Wait until I radio back. Then go get the car. The keys are in the ignition and it’s got a full tank of gas. You’re only going to have about five minutes, so work fast,” Garrett explained while checking his sidearm. “The second I’m out there, secure this door behind me—and fast. Infected haven’t made it to this end of Main Street in any significant numbers yet, but they’ll be here any minute now. You’ll need to be gone before that happens. Any questions?” Garrett was hoping to get none.

  “No, we’re good, man. I think I got it. I’ll pick you up a quarter mile down the road near the fork by the downed oak. You can’t miss it. Be safe out there.” Markus shook Garrett’s hand.

  “Will do, Markus. Okay, people, let’s do this.” Garrett bolted through the exit and was gone.

  Markus slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned against the door, pressed his head against the cool wood, and closed his eyes. The past month raced in his mind, from his and Damon’s first encounter with an infected at the abandoned farmhouse to good times with Vanessa and the people of Pepperbush. He finally found a place he could call home, the sins of his past washing away with every good deed or offered smile. He was finally free to start over fresh, but more importantly to choose for himself the man he wanted to be. Now all of that was gone in the blink of an eye. The soldiers from Philadelphia turned out to be nothing more than the vanguard for another wave of violence, a pattern Markus just couldn’t seem to escape no matter how badly he craved it. In a handful of minutes, he would have to leave Pepperbush for good. The realization broke his heart. Behind him, Samantha and Ayn emptied cabinets and closets, gathering supplies for an unknown future.

  Garrett slogged through the mud as he approached the gate. Thousands of tiny projectiles bounced off the hollow bus, echoing down Main Street. Had Markus left the door open back at the bar long enough, surely he could have heard the racket nearly two blocks away. Garrett hoped the noise would mask him entering the bus and getting it started. Three infected meandered around Garrett’s side of the blockade. They didn’t seem to notice him, and whether that was due to the storm or the noise coming off the oversized vehicle, he didn’t care as he dropped them with three well-placed shots from his sidearm. He was committed now; his gunfire was surely noticed by any other infected creeping just out of sight. He was inside the bus, securing the door before the last infected fell. He took the driver’s seat and wiped condensation from his closest windows.

  “Shit,” he said. On the other side of the makeshift gate, out on the road leading away from Pepperbush, a small group of infected wandered about. Some clawed at the bus. Others merely stood in the road, staring. For a moment, he considered that maybe these things knew what they were doing after all and were actually waiting for anyone who attempted to flee. No time to consider that now. He turned the ignition. Nothing.

  “Dammit,” he said, louder than he meant to. They definitely heard that, he thought as he tried the engine again and again.

  By then, enough infected had gathered around the opposite side of the bus that they threatened to turn the thing over. As if the horde’s incessant rocking woke the thing up, the bus at last roared to life.

  Before the soldier’s arrival and nearly every day since it was put in place, the bus was started up and allowed to run for a few minutes to keep the battery charged for just such an occasion. Even through the storm, the roar of the bus’s engine was unmistakable. Thick black smoke belched from the exhaust as the old beast came to life. Nearby infected, now stirred into a frenzy, were scrambling to investigate the shadowy figure inside, illuminated only by a few dashboard lights. Garrett disengaged the emergency brake. It came loose with
a loud thud, and the behemoth inched forward.

  “That’s right, baby,” he cheered with a triumphant fist pump as if he’d just scored the winning touchdown.

  Though Sam’s men started the old bus on a regular schedule, not one of them ever thought to move the relic.

  Luckily the brakes didn’t stick, Garrett thought as he put the bus in drive and flicked on its headlights.

  In front of him, another eight or so infected were making their way toward the commotion. In the distance, the new light revealed even more approaching. He accelerated gently. A stall now would likely be fatal and not only for the sniper; the roadblock would trap everyone else inside Pepperbush.

  The bus picked up speed as it barreled alongside the berm, leaving the opened gate behind. Red mist from exploding carriers too stubborn to move from its path coated the front of the vehicle and windshield in gore. The infected didn’t bother trying to get out of its way. Heads exploded, and limbs were torn from bodies. An obese carrier’s chest burst on impact. Entrails flailing wildly were pulled into the bus’s massive wheel well as the creature was dragged in with it. The machine slowed briefly while the tires ground up and spit out the trapped carrier in chunks no larger than a lunch box. Garrett pulled the wheel hard to the right in a desperate bid to avoid a stump. The bus skidded a little before its passenger-side mirror slammed into an infected, sending the creature soaring into another group of oncoming dead.