Jimmy nodded. John crawled back in the helicopter and gathered the other weapons along with the ammo. Most of the ammo he stuffed into two zipped canvas bags and handed them to Derek.
“My god,” Derek said. “These bags weigh a ton.”
John filled a backpack with MREs, water bottles, a first aid kit and handed it to Derek. He shouldered the backpack and tightened the straps.
“John, I don’t know how we’re going to carry all of this,” Derek said.
“We’re not going to carry them far,” John answered. “We’ll need to find a place close by to stay for now.”
John crawled out of the helicopter. It seemed to be stable now with no signs of fire or smoke. He was still concerned about the fuel leaking out on the ground.
“There are more supplies here we can come back for,” he said to Derek.
“Yeah medical supplies and at least six more cases of MREs,” Derek said.
John called everyone over to where Amy and Jimmy sat. He handed Amy the shotgun and the box of shells.
“You guys stay here,” John said to Amy and Shanna. “Derek and I will check out the cemetery and surrounding area. We need to see what we’re up against. We’ll check the front gate then work our way around the cemetery.”
John checked the pistol in his hand and stuffed an extra clip in his back pocket.
“You guys stay quiet OK,” Derek said.
Jimmy continued to cry. Amy held him tightly.
“I’ll watch them.” Shanna said.
She dropped the rifle clip, checked it, and put it back in.
John and Derek headed out for the gate. They covered the fifty yards quickly and peered through to the other side.
The skeleton of Saint Phillips sat directly across the street. The towering steeple loomed high above them like a charred black monolith. Columns stuck out of the blackened sidewalk still holding up the front of the building.
Derek strained his neck to look up. The masonry walls of the church stood tall and straight. The roof and the interior wood structure were gone. Burned to ashes.
John imagined the church walls would still be standing a thousand years from now. Long after, he suspected, all humans were gone. He thought it strange that just hours ago he was sure all would be well. And now, he had no confidence they would survive.
“Maybe we’re alone in this part of the city,” Derek said.
“Right,” John said noticing movement by the church. “And maybe not. Look.”
Derek looked over to see a lone figure peering over the top of the burned and blackened boxwoods along the right side of the church. It watched them for a second then turned and ran away, disappearing behind a large magnolia tree in the courtyard.
“What do you make of that?” John asked.
“Got me,” Derek said. “I couldn’t even tell if it was a zombie or not.”
“I don’t think it was a zombie,” John said. “Moved too much like one of us.”
“Maybe...” Derek said. “What do you think happened to all the zombies the rector had locked in the cemetery? They have to be close by.”
“I don’t know. Looks like a few of them right there,” John said pointing to several charred bodies lying in the street.
“Do any of them look like the Rector?” Derek said.
“Can’t tell,” John said. “They’re burned too badly.”
“We’ll probably never know what happened,” Derek said. “But my guess is he burned up with the church.”
“Maybe,” John said looking around. “There’s another gate at the back. You follow the fence to the right and I’ll go left. We’ll meet at the gate.”
“Alright,” Derek said. “If you get in trouble fire one shot. I’ll do the same.”
“Right...”
They headed off in opposite directions. The cemetery was roughly one hundred yards square. Tombstones stuck out of the ground in neatly laid patterns. Live oaks kept most of the cemetery in perpetual shade. Only the center where the helicopter crashed was in the sunlight.
Squirrels darted about here and there. Robins pecked around on the ground, occasionally stopping to pull a worm from the soft earth.
John stopped several times to read the grave markers. Finally he made it to the back gate. Derek was standing in front of the gate blocking John’s view of the other side.
Derek turned as John approached and stepped out of the way giving him a full view.
“Gomer,” Derek said.
Standing on the other side of the gate that separated the Saint Phillips cemetery from the graveyard at the congregational church, stood a male gomer. John thought he looked to be around fifty years old. He was a tall man in dark dress slacks and a white button up shirt. His feet were shoeless and his shirt un-tucked.
He stared at them with droopy, hazy eyes. Clutched in his right hand was a set of car keys. One finger stuck through the ring. A large electronic chip key and a remote door opener hung from the ring. There was a BMW emblem attached to it. Several other keys, house keys they looked like to John, were also on the ring.
The gomer looked at them for a few seconds, grunted, and raised his right arm in what looked like an attempt to wave.
“He’s trying to tell us something,” Derek said.
“Right,” John said. “But what?”
They watched as he stumbled backwards, caught his balance and walked away. The gomer turned once to look at them again and continued on.
He crossed the street, walked up to a parked car, raised the keys and pushed the button. Nothing happened. It tried several more times finally getting frustrated. It walked away and disappeared in front of the Congregational Church.
Derek and John stood in silence for several seconds then looked at each other.
“Creepy,” Derek said. “I wonder what that was all about?”
“No telling. Maybe he’s just trying to find his car so he can get the hell out of here,” John said.
Derek laughed.
When they returned the others were already getting things ready to travel.
“Derek and I should go first and check things out,” John said. “Then we’ll come back and get you.”
“No,” Amy said sternly, “we stick together.”
“She’s right,” Derek said. “It’s gotten us this far.”
“Right...”
“Ok, let’s take what we need for a couple of days,” Derek said.
John loaded one backpack with water bottles, slung it on his back and looked at his watch. It was 10:30 AM.
“We’ve got plenty of daylight,” he said. “Now to find a place to hold up.”
Jimmy stood staring at the helicopter. Tears streaming down his face. It broke Amy’s heart to see him so devastated.
“Jimmy,” Amy said. “We have to go buddy.”
She put her arm around him. “It’s going to be OK,” she said.
“Derek,” John said gesturing for Derek to take the lead.
They headed out with Derek in the lead, Jimmy and Amy next then Shanna and John in the rear.
Just as they reached the front gate Derek heard footsteps and held his hand up for the others to stop. They looked at each other nervously. From around the corner one of the dead appeared and lunged at the gate. Its claw like hands reaching through.
Derek stepped back, pulled a hunting knife from its sheath on his belt and stepped forward.
“Wait,” Amy shouted at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m going to stab it in the skull,” he said.
“Derek, for God’s sake, doing stupid stuff like that will get you killed.” she said sternly. “You could get splattered with blood or bitten.”
Derek put the knife back in its sheath.
“You’re right,” he said. “We’ve gotten this far by not doing stupid shit.”
“Right,” John said. “Lets not start now.”
Derek nodded, raised his pistol, and fired two shots. The zombie’s head exploded. The
body fell backwards and landed with a thud on the pavement.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Better...” Amy said.
“Let’s be long distance zombie killers...” John said smiling. “Safer that way.”
John approached the gate and looked through.
“Nice,” he said to Derek.
“Thanks.”
John un-chained the gate and started to open it.
“Stop,” Derek said.
John pulled the gate back and froze.
“What is it?” he whispered.
Derek pointed across the street to the small cemetery right beside the burned out church.
“There...”
John looked to see a dark figure dart through the charred rubble and pass by the open gate that led into the courtyard to the right of the church.
“Could it be the Rector?” Derek asked. “Or the guy we saw a few minutes ago?”
“I don’t think so,” John answered. “The rector would show himself to us and this doesn’t look like the guy we saw.”
Just as the words left John’s mouth a screamed came from the burned out church and echoed off the surrounding buildings. Derek raised his rifle and flipped the safety off.
“That was a demon,” Amy said.
Shanna stood silent. Her pistol held down at her side. Her finger loosely touching the trigger. Her eyes wide.
The figure they had seen just seconds before rushed through the open gate by the church and sprinted toward them. It screamed as it advanced. Jimmy slumped to the ground and covered his ears in anticipation of the coming gunfire.
Everyone stepped back giving Derek room. He stood his ground calmly waiting on the demon to get closer. The demon covered the distance quickly, launched itself onto the gate and climbed.
“Shoot it!” Shanna screamed.
As it reached the top Derek stepped forward and put a bullet between its eyes. The demon zombie collapsed and hung over the gate like an old rug. The iron spikes on top impaling the rotting flesh. Blackish red blood dripped from the hole in its head creating a puddle on the ground. Jimmy pulled his hands away from his ears.
“Gross,” he said getting back to his feet.
“You all seem so calm,” Shanna said shaking slightly.
Derek laughed.
“Well... unfortunately we’ve gotten used to dealing with these guys.”
“Right...” John said.
“We may see him again though.” Amy said.
“I hope not,” John said.
They opened the right side of the gate. Careful not to disturb the demons body hanging on the left.
“Where to?” Shanna asked.
“To the right,” John said. “Look for a safe place to hold up for a few days.”
“A easily defended place,” Derek added.
“Right...” John said.
“Ok children,” Derek said. “Silence from this point on. If you have to talk whisper.”
With that the small group went through the gate and turned to the right. They walked only about fifty yards when Derek held his hands up for them to stop again. He pointed to the front step of a yellow house to their right.
Like many houses in Charleston this one was only separated from the next house by a narrow alley.
Stacked on the front stoop of the house were bodies of varying stages of decay. All had their heads crushed beyond recognition and were covered in dark slime.
Shanna gagged at the sight and stench of the bodies. She turned and threw up. Amy patted her on the back.
“We’ve seen this before,” Amy said. “It means there were survivors inside the house at some point”
“Demons,” John said. “We think it’s a signal or sign alerting the other demons in the area that there are survivors inside.”
Shanna wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “Should we check inside?” she asked.
Derek and John looked at each other for a moment seriously considering the idea. Amy spoke before they could decide.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said. “We’re not standing out here on the street while you two cowboys go in there.”
Derek looked at John and shrugged. “Maybe we can check it out later,” he said.
“Right...”
“Lets move,” Derek said. “Keep quiet.”
They headed out again easing along the side walk past the next two houses until they came to the corner of Church and Queen Streets.
Derek motioned for them to stop and looked around the corner. He jumped back, squatted down against the building and motioned for the others to do the same. They all moved as close as they could to the building and huddled under a window. Derek put his finger to his lips to let them know to be quiet.
“Don’t move. Don’t breathe,” he whispered and held his hand up showing three fingers to indicate there were three zombies approaching.
As soon as the words left his mouth they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Derek raised his rifle. John eased up behind him. His pistol gripped tightly in his hand.
“What are they?” he whispered.
“Don’t know,” Derek whispered.
The zombies came into view. Everyone held their breath. The six figures were now even with them and plodding along steadily. Jimmy sneezed breaking the silence. Derek readied himself for the attack. The zombies kept going without even turning to look at them.
Derek looked at John with a puzzled look on his face. They watched for another minute as the zombies continued on. Either oblivious to them or just not caring.
Derek peeked around the corner and stepped back quickly. “There are four more headed this way,” he said.
“Same kind?” John asked.
Derek nodded yes.
John held his hand up. “Wait here,” he said and stepped up to the corner.
“John...” Amy said shaking her head suspecting he was up to something.
“It’s ok,” John said. “Derek stay at the corner and be ready to shoot.”
“You got it.”
John watched the zombies closely as they approached. They seemed to be like the three that just passed. He waited until they were almost to the corner and stepped out into the center of the street.
“Is he crazy?” Shanna asked.
“Shh...” Derek said with an annoyed look on his face. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Amy whispered.
Derek held his finger up to his lips again. “Shh...”
Jimmy clutched the back of Amy’s shirt tightly and closed his eyes. Waiting for the expected hail of gunfire.
As the four zombies approached John, Derek raised his rifle, leaned against the building and sighted in. John stood his ground. The walking corpses headed directly at him. He raised the pistol just in case they lunged. They ignored him. It was as if he were invisible. John continued to hold his ground. When they were only a few feet away he stepped to the side as the two dead passed him by. Their eyes never averted and their heads didn’t turned toward him. They didn’t acknowledge him in anyway.
“Wow...” Amy said. “What gives?”
John looked over at the group and shrugged. He turned and walked quickly by the two zombies and stopped in front of them again.
“Oh my god,” Amy said. “What is he doing?”
John waved his arms and jumped up and down. The four continued on as before and passed by again seemingly without noticing him. John turned and walked back to the group.
“Well done my friend,” Derek said. “It looks like we have a new kind of zombie.”
Amy rolled her eyes.
“Right...” John said. “These seem to be even less harmless than gomers.”
“Well done? Really?” Amy said obviously irritated. “That was dangerous John. Aren’t you the one who said less than ten minutes ago that we don’t take chances unless we have to?”
“I was just curious. I knew they wouldn’t attack.” John said.
“No you didn’t,” Amy said annoyed.
“We just wanted to see how they reacted,” Derek said.
“Gee... what a surprise,” Amy said sarcastically. “You take his side.”
“Sorry...” John said.
Derek looked at John and shrugged.
“She’s right,” he said.
“I know...” John said walking over and taking her hand. “Sorry.”
“Can we go now please?” she said.
The window they were standing in front of shattered with a loud crash sending shards of glass flying in all directions. Amy screamed, grabbed Jimmy and pulled him out of the way. Shanna moved out into the street making a mental note to never place herself in front of a window again.
Reaching for them through the window was a female zombie dressed in a long sleeve pink T-shirt. Long blond hair, filthy and matted with blood, hung down over her shoulders.
5
Lydia
-------------------------------------------悪魔死--------------------------Lydia, a freshman at the College of Charleston, was alone in her room that morning. She woke at 7:00 AM, and turned on the TV.
She sat on the floor and watched the reports of widespread panic and death in cities all across the country. The living were dying and rising from the dead. The rest were being hunted like animals the announcer said.
The main routes out of the city were blocked.
She grabbed her cell phone to call home but had no signal. She cursed it and threw it down. She could have stayed in her room. But, she didn’t. She wanted to see for herself if this was real.
She put on a pair of gray sweat pants, a pink long sleeve t-shirt and stepped into the hall. People were racing by in a panic on their way out of the building.
“You should leave,” a guy she barely knew said as he rushed by.
She decided to go down to the street and check things out first.
Emerging from her Apartment, Lydia made her way to George Street. The scene on the street was chaotic. She walked into a nearby diner she frequented.
“We’re closed,” said the man behind the counter.
“Are you here alone?” she asked.
“Yes, everyone else left already,” he said. “And you should leave too.”
As she turned to leave a man burst in. His eyes wide with fright. Half his face had been ripped away leaving exposed bone. Lydia recoiled at the sight and gagged.
The Demon Dead (Book 2): Troubled Waters Page 5
