The engine turned over immediately and I could have cried from pure relief. I slammed the vehicle into drive and pressed the gas like my life depended on it … and it did. Not even the blast of Justin Bieber’s Baby coming through the speaker system could wipe the smile off of my face. No, I turned the volume up full blast, held on tightly to the steering wheel as I navigated around as many obstacles as possible and ran over bodies if I had to, laughing the whole time as tears streamed down my face. I glanced in the rearview mirror when I was almost all the way out of the roughest part of town and saw at least two dozen bodies lurching out of alleyways and out into the open. Several of them were on fire. I might not have cleaned out all the zombies in town, but I sure as hell put a dent in their numbers before I left.
΅
I TOOK THE TIME TO PULL over and load more bullets into my gun before I drove into my old neighborhood. Well, neighborhood didn’t really fit any longer … warzone seemed much more appropriate. Everything as far as I could see was completely destroyed from the huge airplane that fell from the sky and landed in my residential neighborhood. The burnt trees and houses looked like a group of tornadoes made of lava had touched down and leveled everything thing in their path. Anxiety pitted the center of my stomach as I pulled in front of my house. I cut off the engine and stepped out of my commandeered vehicle and shoved the keys into my pocket. A zombie lumbered around the side of my neighbor’s house as soon as I shut the door. With a jolt, I recognized Mr. Howe … he still wore his pajamas and only one shoe, just like I’d last seen him.
I swallowed back tears and stuffed my gun into the holster on my leg. He began moving quickly, until he was right on top of me. I lashed out and drove my blade right into his forehead. I whimpered as he jerked and then stilled, his body dropping to the ground.
“Sorry, Mr. Howe,” I whispered. I glanced around hastily and then ran to the front door of my house. The door had been kicked in. I swallowed back my anger and entered the front room with my gun drawn. I made my way from room to room and quickly realized they had only been after food and supplies.
Even knowing the house was clear, I knew I couldn’t dawdle too long. I needed to get what I came for and then leave. I headed back to my dad’s room and sat down tiredly on his bed. I picked up his pillow and held it to my nose and inhaled the scent that clung to his pillowcase. I closed my eyes and hugged the pillow to me like a lifeline. After I sat there for much too long, I stood up and began gathering the things I’d come for. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a large, black garbage bag and began in my father’s room. I added my dad’s pillow and a sturdy sheet and blanket to the bag first, followed by the last five MRE’s that were left in a box under his bed. I took out all the ammunition that was left in a storage bin under the bed and added it to the bag as well. I was relieved to find more ammo for the rifle.
Next, I went into my room and glanced around. This was going to be the last time I would be back here for a long time—maybe ever. I grabbed my ipod out of my desk drawer and shoved it into the bag. I knew it was fully charged … so I still had a little playtime left on it. I swung open my closet and thanked the heavens above I had never been a girly-girl. I’d insisted, even when my dad protested, that my clothes and shoes be practical and even border on boyish. Since I was about to turn eighteen, he’d given up on trying to get me to wear any pink. I think he had finally realized what a waste of time it was. I grabbed a week’s worth of undergarments, socks, and one set of flannel pajamas to the bag. Next I added every single tank top I owned and then half a dozen tee shirts, two pairs of jeans, two pairs of dark cargo pants, and three long-sleeved thermal shirts and leggings. The small, compact bundle would’ve made my dad proud.
I grabbed my dad’s dog tags and my mom’s locket off of my dresser and hung them around my neck, glad to have my most prized possessions with me again. I glanced around my room once again as I was walking out. I snagged a picture of my dad and me off of my desk and one of my mom and threw them in as well. Nothing else meant anything to me, and anything else would have been a burden to carry.
When I went into the bathroom I just raked everything I thought might be useful into the bag … Tylenol, cold medicine, rubbing alcohol, more first aid supplies, toothpaste, lotion lip glosses, two towels and wash cloths. In the kitchen I grabbed ziplock bags and two empty water jugs. By the time I was done, my bag was bulging. But I had two more items I needed. I headed to the garage and found what I was looking for.
When I left the house I had to move as quickly as possible, even with everything I was carrying with me. Three zombies were heading for me as soon as I came around the corner and reached the SUV. I threw my huge sack into the back and then quickly jumped into the driver’s seat before the zombies made it to me.
I started the car, threw the Justin Bieber CD out of the window, shoved my own Flyleaf CD into the player, rolled down my window and waited for the zombies to get in range and then—just as the words “fully alive” blasted through my speakers—I put the three zombies down before I drove out of my old neighborhood, determined to make it back to the cover of the woods before it got dark.
΅
WHEN I PULLED THE SUV off the road, I was dreading getting out of it. My heart began pounding and I was sweating before I stepped out of the vehicle. I walked to the back and took the shovel out and made my way over to an all-too-familiar wreck site. I pushed everything that I did after that to the back of my mind. I had to, or I would have never been able to go through with it. When I was done, I sunk to the ground and wept until I couldn’t weep anymore. I now had my dad’s wallet and wedding band in my pocket, and once he was buried just inside the tree line where we had crashed, I felt a sense of relief and calm wash over me. He would have been proud of me.
I wiped my eyes and got back into the SUV. I found a spot about a half mile down the road where I could drive the SUV into the woods. I went as far back as I dared and parked it in an area that was surrounded by thick foliage. I pocketed the keys and then grabbed the huge bag out of the back of the vehicle and also grabbed the tent I’d picked up out of the garage. I was a nice one, not too big, but most importantly, it would keep my safer from the elements. I exited the woods and stepped onto the road and peered over to the place where I had parked. I couldn’t see the SUV and I sighed in relief. The vehicle could come in handy later on, so long as no one siphoned all the gas out of the tank.
I took a deep breath and slowly made my way across the street and stepped into the forest. I immediately relaxed, back in my element, and happy to be alive. I set out at a slow and steady pace, feeling the day’s events weighing heavily on me and the bag I carried slowed me down even more. I pulled out my ipod and allowed myself the luxury of one song as I made my way deeper and deeper into the forest. I played Pink’s Beam Me Up and tuned everything else out.
With each step I took, the carnage and decay of the new world slipped further away from me. As I put one foot in front of the other… and each beautifully sung word cleansed a tiny piece of my soul … the uncertainty of my tomorrow didn’t feel quite so unbearable.
THE DEAD NEVER SLEEP. THEY don’t have to … they never get tired. They just keep going and going, like some sicko’s version of an energizer bunny. They do, however, have times when they just shut down and stop and stand idle for whatever reason. Don’t get me wrong … you make too much noise or run in front of them, they’ll snap out of their idleness, whether they’ve been like that for hours or months, in a flash and try to make you their next meal. Me? I don’t plan on being anyone’s meal any time soon, so I kept my eyes alert and my foot steps as quiet as possible as I entered the military base.
It had been a little over two years since I had last seen the base and even with what I’d witnessed going on that day, I still hadn’t expected the level of carnage and destruction I now found. In the cities, yes. But at a government army base? I just figured they would have been better prepared to deal with everything that went down. I guess
no one could’ve been prepared for people—civilians and soldiers alike—dying and then coming back as mindless monsters, hungry for human flesh and blood.
I don’t know what drove me out of the woods this time. I had been living in the forest by myself for the past two years and had only come out a handful of times … to scavenge for supplies and to try and assess what kind of shape the world around me was in. This time I really didn’t need supplies and it was pretty damn obvious the world had gone to hell in a hand basket, but here I was making my way into a very dangerous situation. Of course anywhere I went could now be considered a high risk since everywhere I turned I could run into one of the zombies lumbering around aimlessly. I think more than anything else … I was just ready. Really ready to find out what was going on elsewhere in the world. Was the government completely shut down? Were there safe zones? What happened two years ago to cause this fucked up mess? I had asked myself these questions over and over again the past months and had even gone so far as to pack up all my gear to make my way back to civilization a few times, but each time I stopped myself, came up with an excuse to hold out, to live the best way I could alone in the woods … to survive. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I realized my dad wanted me to survive, but survival meant so much more than just being alive. Survival meant adapting and moving forward. I’d survived, but I wasn’t living or adapting. I’d become stagnant.
So, here I was out of my element, trying to find some answers. I was feeling way too exposed out in the open. I’d gotten used to being cloaked and hidden in the woods. Now I felt naked and vulnerable, with nothing around me as camouflage. I was no longer used to my old surroundings—civilization. The sounds of the dead shuffling around and moaning in the receding shadows caused a fine mist of sweat to break out on my upper lip as I pressed my back up against the check point building leading into the army base. Decaying bodies that had been left out in the elements since that first day were everywhere. Some hung out of vehicles, some littered the street and walkways, and others were mostly hidden in grass and weeds as they had been strangled and overtaken by nature run-amok. Between the decaying bodies that had been taken out with a bullet to the brain or a knife thrust through the cerebral cortex and the bloated, rotting flesh of the corpses that still lumbered around in search of their next meal, the air was oppressive and stank of things worse than death.
I tightened the cloth that covered my nose and mouth, repositioned my dad’s M4 rifle on my back, and gripped my twelve inch recon blade tightly in my right hand just before I slipped from shadow to shadow, avoiding as many of the zombies as I could. My feet were light and sure as I made my way onto the base. Months and months in the woods had made me more careful, more alert to my surroundings and any sounds that I might make. I was making pretty good time as I moved stealthily along the perimeter of the property and kept the building I was headed for in my peripheral vision. I had ducked and dodged my way past at least a dozen staggering zombies and was feeling pretty great about myself when I dipped behind a jeep to avoid a cluster of zombies standing in front of the building I needed to get into.
I lunged quickly to keep from being seen and brought my booted foot directly down into the chest cavity of a legless corpse. Unfortunately, the corpse was of the squishy, animated variety and the forward momentum of my boot, combined with all my body weight caused the chest of the zombie to give beneath me like an engorged, over-ripe melon. Blood, putrid fluids and skin burst from the zombie and exploded all over my leg—I barely reigned in a scream and kept my stomach contents down. Even with my foot crushing its rib cage and squishing its guts all over the place, the zombie lurched forward, its mouth snapping open with a gurgle working its way past his throat—the promise of fresh meat had landed in its lap. Literally. I whipped my arm out, my hand still clutching the recon blade, and drove the sharpened point directly through his eye socket. The zombie’s jaw wrenched open one last time and fetid-smelling fluids seeped out of its mouth and eye. I stood in a crouch and placed my goo covered boot on the head of the zombie to extract my blade.
“Shit,” I whispered under my breath. The zombies in front of the building were all just kind of standing there, some of them standing pretty still, some of them wavering back and forth as if they would topple over at any moment. I could have used my rifle to take them out and clear my way, but I didn’t want to make too much noise and draw more zombies to the area and make my escape when I was ready to leave harder than it needed to be. I counted about five zombies and figured there had to be two or three more I couldn’t see from my vantage point. The toxic fumes of the corpse I was almost kneeling in was beginning to burn my nostrils and make my eyes water. I was beyond ready to move. My dad’s words echoed in the back of my mind and I took a moment to try and remember his voice. Acting rashly is what gets people killed. He was right. I took another moment to consider the situation.
I duck walked to the back of the jeep to see if I could find what I was looking for. I lucked out and found several large rocks within arm’s reach. I gathered them up and went back to where I could see my targets the best. When I was sure I could pull off my plan, I reared back my arm and launched a rock at a zombie a little ways off from the rest of the group that was standing in between me and the building. The rock missed by several feet, but the zombie jerked at the sound of the rock landing near him. I had his attention. I picked up another large rock and launched it at the zombies nearest to the first one I’d aimed at. The both gnashed their teeth and moved toward the sound of the rock hitting the pavement. The three zombies looked so utterly confused that I almost laughed. For my idea to work, I’d have to launch another rock further than all the rest and hit a cracked window I’d spotted on another building across the way. I swung my arm with all my might and heaved a large rock through the air. The rock bounded off the building a foot away from the window. The zombies barely even noticed. I grabbed another stone, this one a bit smaller, and took careful aim before I chucked the rock with all my strength. The rock glided through the air and hit the window dead-center. The shattering glass seemed to echo all across the base, raising the hairs on my arms and drawing the attention of every zombie in the area, including my little trio of friends.
Several of the zombies started in the direction of the noise and a few others followed behind the zombies that were on the move, sensing their interest. I took my window of opportunity and sprinted from my hiding place while the zombies were turned in the other direction. About halfway to my goal, two zombies stopped mid-stride and turned back as soon as they saw my movement. I raised my knife as I ran and met the first zombie head on. The zombie was so bloated that his skin seemed almost translucent. It was kind of rubberized, with deep blue veins bulging in contrast to his white, pasty skin. My knife caught the uniform-wearing zombie just above the collarbone and slide into his neck without much effort, but got stuck at the spine. My speed when I hit the zombie, drove us both to the ground, with me on top. I pushed down with both hands on the hilt of my knife until I heard the crack of the spine and the head lobbed off to the side, with only skin keeping it attached to the body.
My hands were still shaking when I jumped off of the corpse beneath me and began running for the building again. The second zombie was further away and was moving in a slow, lurching motion towards me. I was only fifty feet away from the doors when it caught up with me. As soon as the zombie reached me, I realized why it moved so much slower than some of the others. The zombie’s leg had been almost completely eaten away and all that was left was shredded fabric from its pants leg and splintered bones poking through a thin, flapping layer of decomposing skin. The zombie had no chance. My knife slid through his forehead and poked through the back of its skull without any resistance.
I reached for the door and had a moment’s pause when I realized I had no idea what lay on the other side. As far as I knew, it could have been completely filled with zombies. From the corner of my eye I saw several shambling corpses hobble around the
corner of the building … and just like that—my mind had been made up for me. I pushed into the building holding my breath and hoping against hope that I hadn’t made a fatal error.
DUST MOTES FLEW ALL AROUND me as I knelt inside with my back to the door and quickly surveyed the room I’d entered. I let out a relieved breath when I wasn’t immediately attacked by an entrapped zombie horde. I reached back and untied the cloth I’d secured around my face and took an unsteady breath in. The air was stale and thick with dust, but was surprisingly devoid of rot and decay. I stuffed the cloth into a pocket and moved slowly away from the door. The room looked like people left in a hurry. Papers were scattered about, office chairs were knocked over and tables, cabinets and other various items lay broken and strewn about. I quickly made my way around the large room, checking out the several smaller offices off of the main room for zombie loners. The whole room seemed to be completely zombie free and abandoned. Something sparked in the back of my mind and I couldn’t help wonder how, with all the bodies and chaos surrounding the base, the room was completely free of any dead bodies. Maybe at first they’d secured this building and maybe everyone who turned or died had already left the building when it had happened. It didn’t fit right. Something felt off. I spied a larger office in the back of the room and headed for it.
The office was clear of dead bodies and I was somewhat disappointed. I shook my head. It seemed the “norm” was now death and corpses and anything other than that made me squirm with uneasiness and suspicion. I made my way around the huge desk, sat down in the dust caked, black leather chair and sat my knife on top of it. The chair, which had sat unused for so long, squeaked beneath my weight and I froze, the sound seeming overly harsh to my ears in the small space. I sat rigidly at first, my body not used to sitting anywhere other than the forest floor, but I soon relaxed back into the seat. Such small things meant so much now. After indulging myself for a moment or two, I sat up straighter in my seat and reached over to see if I could find anything useful in the office.
State of Decay (Omnibus (Parts 1-4)) Page 4
