Back In The Day
Page 6
One got wrapped up in the wheel well causing the truck to jerk unexpectedly. Jones watched the tail end of the truck in horror as one of the guys went flying out of the back. Two of the other guys tried to grab him but their attempt almost sent them out as well. Before he even hit the ground, vicious undead marauders were on him, pulling at him.
The poor son of a bitch was Roger, one of Davis’s fishing buddies!
Roger fired at blurry hands as he fell but was bitten at the waist. He screamed. The gang in the back of the truck fired as best they could. Then one of the men shot Roger in the head. Whether it was on purpose, or an accident, it put Roger out of his misery. He wouldn’t be able to feel the teeth and fingers digging out his guts and plucking out his eyes to feast upon. Once his warm flesh began to cool, however, the dead things let his corpse lie, unable to sleep. Moments later, Roger, a pile of unrecognizable shredded flesh, complete with a hole in his head, got up and joined the ranks of the dead.
Dane’s expression grew grim. His only desire was to get home to Susan, pop on the television and watch nothing remotely interesting as the aroma of fresh coffee filtered in from the kitchen. Those daydreams came to a quick end when the gristle and gray matter started spattering on his cruiser. A scream came from the right of where Dane was standing. It was punctuated by the sounds of gunfire and the grunting of the dead, but it was a scream nonetheless. Dane couldn’t see who it was. His vision was blurred and he was close to passing out. So much madness in such a short time, it was hell and hell was getting really hot.
Most of the men never had to fire their weapons at anything other than targets and bottles, yet they were now putting holes into heads. Some found they enjoyed it, the violence was so addictive and enthralling. For most, though, death stayed a taboo, one big question mark at the end of a life. Killing was now a right of passage for the men of the new world if they planned to survive.
More screams broke the monotony of the gunfire. Someone else had fallen, another guy Davis had coerced into bearing arms against the living dead. There were few dead things left and with a few well-placed shots the numbers finally dwindled to zero.
Alan began torching the remains of the creatures and the few who fell victim to them. Thick black smoke rose from the ground. The smell was awful. Dane wiped his sweaty forehead, pulling chunks of flesh, and dried blood off himself. He wanted to go home and shower, wrap his arms around Susan and feel like a human being again. Instead he felt like a hollowed out husk, a rusty robot in dire need of oil and lubrication.
Davis grabbed his talkie, his leathered face covered in sweat. “South Roadblock come in.” He paused, waiting for a reply.
“Sheriff, this is south. What’s up?”
“How you guys holding up? We just had ourselves a helluva firefight.”
“What? Is everyone okay?” the voice from the other end asked.
“No, we lost a few guys…we’re going to need something more than a roadblock if more of these fuckers come to town. Get your guys and meet me at George’s lot,” said Davis.
“See ya there. Over.”
All the men at the North roadblock were either huddled together or else in their vehicles as Davis pulled up. He opened his door, standing a head above his truck while using the door for leverage, “Listen up,” he yelled, “Finish torching these dead fucks and everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, meet me at George’s lot! This shit’s only begun.”
***
Jeff had just finished his sandwich, dipping his last bit of roll into some hummus. His father had a room temperature bottle of Budweiser lingering off his lip. The kids were eating peanut butter and jelly. Apart from everyone chewing, the only sound you could hear was the wind crashing against the boarded-up windows. Barbara and Maria were eating some pasta left over from the night before and Laura was having a bit of everything. Barbara was tense and wanted to say something, she actually wanted to breakdown and cry, but she kept herself in check. The adults had agreed to keep cool in front of the kids (there was no need to scare them more than they already were). And they’d be in bed soon enough, leaving the adults to talk and curse and cry all they wanted. Lunch was a late one and should have been called dinner.
Walter and Jeff went out to the porch, beers in hand, and looked up at the sky. It was almost dark.
Walter looked at his son. “Let’s take a stroll around the house. Give it one last look.” He put the beer up to his lip and kicked it back.
Jeff followed suit and they both took a casual walk around the house. All the boards looked good, and there was nothing in the distance besides the faint scent of smoke. A drop of rain fell, then another. A line of cars passed the road in the distance, Davis’s pickup leading the way. A rumble was heard in the sky, lightning struck and thunder rolled.
Jeff and his father finished up their walk around and ended right back on the porch. Walter looked up at the sky and Jeff looked at his father. Jeff’s son, Tommy, came out to the porch as well. Jeff put his arm around him and pulled him closer. He had no idea what was going on, but he sure loved a thunderstorm.
Everyone one was back in the family room with their stomachs full. The rain started to come down heavier, it wasn’t pouring, but it was more than a trickle on the roof. The kids were getting antsy, so Maria decided to bring them upstairs. She took a big flashlight and led the way. She lit a few candles on the way to the room as well, and another inside the room so the kids wouldn’t get too scared. Just for peace-of-mind she left the flashlight with them. Tommy grabbed it and gave it to Sandra, and then Sandra gave it to little Wally.
They weren’t quite ready for bed so they started building a fort and playing with their toys. Maria sat in the room and just watched. She loved them so much, and couldn’t bear to think about what may lay ahead for them.
They started building a fort around her as Sandra sat on her lap making goofy faces with the flashlight under her chin. Maria started laughing and crying at the same time. Maria wrapped her arms around Sandra and tackled the rest of them into the halfway-built fort and brought the sheets down with her. You could hear the laughter from the family room. The others smiled. The rain continued to fall.
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About the author
Steve Wands lives in New Jersey with his wife and son. He’s an artist by day, and a writer by night. He drinks massive amounts of coffee, and sleeps very little. He is the author of Stay Dead, Graveyard, Words Like Daggers, Horror Stories: A Macabre Collection, and many short stories. His lettering has littered the pages of comic books around the world including such titles as Batman, Green Lantern, American Vampire, and Scalped for DC Comics and Vertigo to name a few.
Discover other titles (Stay Dead: The Stranger & Tunnel Rats, Dark: A Horror Anthology) by Steve Wands at http://www.smashwords.com
Check out the Stay Dead blog:
http://www.pleasestaydead.blogspot.com
Nice words from nice people about the Stay Dead Series available at smashwords.com
“…it’s a tribute to Steve’s imagination that my attention was held from beginning to end. I especially liked a sequence in which we find that zombies ain’t the scariest thing out there… encouraging moments of insight into how a kid might feel if life became a horror movie…”
Martin Gray Journalist
http://dangermart.blogspot.com
“…focuses on atmosphere and desperation…gruesome and really interesting, both stories oozing hopelessness…a really strong debut.”
Corey Graham formerly of the Midnight Podcast
http://www.midnightpodcast.com
“One of the most humanizing zombie stories since Romero’s Night Of The Living Dead.”
Bryan Wolford of the Drunken Zombie Podcast
http://www.drunkenzombie.com
“This collection of short stories is brutal and heart breaking. Steve Wands describes the state of the world in the midst of a zombie outbreak as if he were there. These tales will make
you feel like you know the characters and are sharing in their plight.”
Mike Benedict of The Cadaver Lab Podcast
http://www.cadaverlab.com
“…one of the more intense and downbeat endings you will ever read… endlessly fun…nothing wasted…no pulling of punches.”
Desmond Reddick of Dread Media
http://www.dread-media.com
“…very well done…makes you want more…a great read… I couldn’t put this down.”
Darryl Pierce of A Little Dead Podcast
http://www.alittledead.com
Stay Dead: The Stranger & Tunnel Rats was also nominated for a 2009 Mail Order Zombie Dead Letter Award for Best Zombie Book/Fiction.
www.mailorderzombie.com