Dead and Forsaken

by West, J. D.

  “SKIRRRRT!”

  We pulled out the lot running over several more forsaken blocking the exit.

  “THUMP! THUMP!”

  The truck sideswiped several parked cars on the street.

  “BAM! BAM!”

  Through luck and determination we had once again cheated death.

  “Drive faster their still behind us!” yelled Maria. “They’re not giving up!”

  Carlos gripped the wheel and easily maneuvered the truck like it was a small car.

  “Thank God we are driving!” said Blair. “If we were still walking we would be sitting ducks!”

  CHAPTER 22:

  The Beginning of the End

  Outside the city was transformed. Scenes from our darkest nightmares had come true. We pasted a badly damaged police car at the end of the block. All of the doors had been pried open. The windows were smashed in and the seats were bloody. The hospital got smaller in the rear view mirror as we drove past the wreckage. There were so many people in the hospital but we were the only ones that made it out alive. We had less than an hour to find temporary hideout and fortify it before it got dark. In the morning we would procure better weapons and supplies. The last thing we wanted to do after escaping was to get caught outside in the dark with no shelter.

  Neighborhoods from the east to the west valley were devastated. None of us knew the circumstances that led to this tragedy but the end results were clear. We gazed out the trucks windows at the horror movie backdrop outside. It was hard to except with contrasting memories of the good times still fresh in our minds. Evidence of a terrible battle and the remains of the dead were everywhere. Bricks, debris and trash littered the road. Blood was sprayed against a brick wall that was also riddled with bullet holes. Thousands of newly forsaken lurked and prowled the streets in hordes. They stretched out their decaying hands and opened their filthy mouths as we passed by.

  “GRRRRRR!”

  The truck swerved from side to side as we tried to elude them. The entrance to the interstate on ramp was blocked with crashed and flipped over cars. Ordinary people were caught in traffic and trapped in their vehicles. Others just abandoned them and tried to walk. Half of them were eaten alive while others were bitten and infected.

  “I guess the quick and orderly evacuation didn't go so well!” I joked.

  The tangled mass of disabled and wrecked vehicles shut the highway down. Carlos had to back up and drive the truck around the man made road block of metal to get back on the main street. The overpowering odor of death was in the desert air.

  “In order to survive we have to be smart!” I told Carlos. “Try to avoid heavily populated areas and neighborhoods.”

  Corpses were everywhere. Some of them had no head or limbs. The rotting body of one half eaten corpses was still seat belted into its disabled vehicle. The ribcage was ripped open and the organs were gone. All the doors on the car were open. Dark stains covered the car's interior along with bones and pieces of chewed flesh. Dry blood had pooled in the passenger seat but the body had been dragged away. The blood splattered baby seat in the back told the rest of the story. The child that sat in it was nowhere to be found. The faceless and anonymous victims expired without dignity or respect. There would be no funeral or last word reading. Their final resting place was where ever they died. Flies swarmed over their maimed bodies.

  We didn't see any signs of the living on the dusty windblown streets. The remaining living squeezed themselves into closets, bedrooms and garages desperately seeking shelter from the rising dead. Some of them heavily armed themselves. The survivors were trapped like rats in a cage waiting for rescue but help was not coming, hope was long gone and only agony lay ahead. The horror from the last couple of days had caused a mass exodus of the city’s population. Many of them were already sick. There was no telling how far the fleeing survivors spread the disease. Smoke bellowed into the sky as thousands of fires burned out of control. Carlos drove down the dotted line in the middle of the street so we could see clearly. Hundreds of houses were left ram shacked and in shambles.

  Traces of everyday human life and necessities were dropped during the last melee. All the smart people left in a hurry. They didn’t have time to pack up. A child’s bike and a scooter lay in the driveway of a large house on the corner. The house’s windows were shattered and the door was smashed in. Down the block the washing machines in Chang’s all night laundry were still filled with clothes. Spilled soap powder and dried blood clumped together on the floor. Across the street sat a looted twenty four hour grocery store. All the doors were wide open and partially filled baskets of food just sat there. Blood spray and cast off could be found in every aisle. Public parks sat empty and school yard swings were motionless. When everything went down thousands of people rushed into the streets seeking help and trying to search for friends and loved ones.

  “It's worse than I thought!” said Maria while shaking her head. “Where are all the people?”

  “Who do you think has been eating us?” answered Carlos. “All of those things use to be human!”

  “What if we are the only ones left alive in the city?” asked Blair.

  “Maybe there are people still at that military checkpoint!” said Carlos.

  The next street the truck turned down was filled with several dilapidated restaurants and downtown shopping centers. We shoot looters was spray painted on a large wall. Carlos accelerated through the intersection. The eerie silence was broken every couple of minutes by an occasional moan or roar. Halfway down the block a million dollars in blood splattered money blew across the street like leaves in the wind.

  “Can we keep some of it?” asked Latia.

  “No baby!” answered Maria. “I don't think that’s a good ideal.”

  The plate glass window of a well-known bank was cracked and full of bullet holes. The mangled remains of two thieves littered the banks entrance. The desperate group of criminals never got to enjoy their stolen treasure. All the cops were gone but the burglar alarm alerted the hungry forsaken. As we past their blood smeared get away van we could see the getaway drivers dismembered body. It was scattered in a pile of hundred dollar bills in the back.

  “I guess their greed was stronger than their fear!” said Blair.

  “Some things are more important than money!” I responded. “They should have been looking for food and fuel.”

  “There are a lot of things more important than money!” said Maria’s while squeezing my hand.

  Carlos eased the truck to a stop at the corner next to a row of chard cactus and scorched palm trees. He turned on the radio but every station was filled with dead air or static.

  “There has to be a place where we can carve out a life without being eaten alive.” stated Carlos.

  It was 7:42pm and the sun was setting over the Camel back Mountains. As dusk fell the city of Phoenix got darker and darker around us. It was once a bustling metropolitan area whose suburbs reflected its power and wealth. Now it was a ghost town.

  “What do we do now Kevin?” asked Maria.

  Before I said anything I looked around the truck at everyone’s face. What they all needed now was hope. They respected what I had to say because I got them out the hospital and kept them alive. I didn’t have all the answers but I knew what to say.

  “The same thing I have been doing all my life!” I told her. “Try to survive!”

  They were all both worried and relieved by my words. Our survival depended on how we responded to this new threat and the chaos and devastation it created. The only thing we knew for sure was that the dead had risen back to life and the valley of the sun belonged to them now. For weeks after that the sickness kept spreading. The battle became a war and the war became a holocaust. They defeated armies and toppled governments until the dea
d outnumbered the living.

  Biography

  J. D. West is a writer and a photographer. While attending Norfolk State University in VA, he was an avid reader and wrote hundreds of short stories. This is his first attempt at putting pen to paper in the form of a novel. He was born and raised in Pittsburgh, PA but currently lives in Phoenix, AZ with his wife and three children.

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