Zombies On The Rock (Book 3): The Republic of Newfoundland

by Carberry, Paul

  Dana walked into the room and was caught off guard by how differently the cabin was decorated. The furniture was worn and filthy, it was like an animal lived here. The smell was hard to stomach. It wasn’t the foul stench of the dead but the scent of heavy smoke and sour body odour. The floors were littered with empty beer cans, mouldy food, and rat droppings. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Dana pulled her jacket up to her nose, trying to block out the smell.

  “I’m just going to do a quick search and see if there’s anything we could use in here.” Sasha turned around and stepped in a pile of rotten food, causing her to stumble into the end table. “Ouch.” Sasha cried out as she banged her shin off the edge of the table.

  Dana looked at the kitchen. The sink was filled with dirty dishes and scummy water. “There’s no way I’m eating anything that comes out of this place.” She couldn’t stomach the thought of someone living here, but there were clear signs that someone had recently been here. The dishes on top were stained with food that hadn’t turned moldy yet. A glass of water on the counter was still clear.

  “There may be canned food in here. We can definitely use the tools in the basement as weapons.” Sasha walked through the living room towards a closet door, the garden hoe gripped tightly in her hand.

  A sour smell was coming from the fire place. Burned bones poked out through the ashes. Specks of fur and burnt flesh clung to the charred remains. The sickly sight made Dana urge.

  THUMP

  A sudden noise from upstairs startled Dana. Her heart leapt up into her chest. “What the hell was that?” Dana looked up to the top of the stairs expecting to see a zombie lumbering down them, but the landing was empty. Bloodied handprints and dark red streaks stained the out dated floral wall paper.

  “I don’t know.” Sasha held the gardening tool firmly in her grip, ready to lash out at the shadows. Dana crept towards the staircase. She reached out and grabbed handrail. It wobbled and groaned loudly.

  THUMP THUMP

  “You should let me go first,” Sasha called out from behind.

  Dana reached out her hand and blocked the stairs. “Let me do this?”

  Sasha gave Dana a long, confused stare before relinquishing the garden hoe. “Be careful, I’m right behind you.”

  THUMP

  Dana held her finger over her mouth and waited for the noise to stop. It didn’t take long before a silence fell over the whole cabin. She counted to twenty in her head and the eerie silence remained. “Hello.” Dana deliberately broke the silence.

  THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP

  “I think there is a zombie stuck up in one of the bedrooms,” Dana said, pointing upstairs with the bladed end of her weapon.

  “I think you’re right.” Sasha agreed.

  Dana walked up the stairs, the boards creaking loudly beneath her with each step. The whole staircase seemed to move with each step as they made their way up to the top landing. The hallway was covered in dirt and garbage. Rotting floorboards had turned almost black and in some places the rot had eaten clean through the wood. All of the doors were open except one. The first door on the left was the only closed door.

  THUMP

  THUMP THUMP

  “Whatever is making that sound on the other side of the door is trapped inside.” Dana watched the door intently but she couldn’t see any signs of hands pounding against it from the other side. They carefully made their way towards the door and Dana gripped the door knob in her hand, it nearly fell off as she turned it open. “Jesus Christ.”

  An elderly man hung from the rafters, his feet banging off the old dresser behind him as he swung back and forth. His body was frail and malnourished, his skin pulled tightly against the skeleton underneath. His glossy, pale white eyes reflected the sunlight back at them as his lips snarled into a sinister smile. “How long do you think he’s been up there?” Sasha half whispered.

  The dead man stretched out his arms, his neck muscles pulled tight as he strained to grab a hold of them. He nostrils flared wide open as Dana stepped into the room. “He’s been up there a long time.” The zombie’s hungry groans and painful grunts proved that even the dead needed to eat. “Maybe since the beginning.” Dana tensed up as she raised the hoe above her head.

  “Wait.” Sasha held out her hands and stepped in front of Dana.

  “What are you doing?” Dana tried to push her out of the way, but Sasha was much stronger.

  “He made his choice and now he has to live with it.” Sasha sounded angry. “You don’t get to give up and get bailed out.”

  “What happens if he gets down?” Dana wasn’t thinking about the man’s decisions. She was thinking about keeping everyone inside of these walls safe.

  “It’s one fucking harmless zombie.” Sasha responded harshly. “If he does get down we can handle it.”

  “Just move out of my way.” Dana tried to push past Sasha, but she wasn’t able to budge the younger woman. The creature thrashed his legs wildly, the rope swayed back and forth now. “Please.”

  A loud crack interrupted Sasha before she could respond. The rope snapped and the zombie collapsed on top of her. Dana drove the hoe down as Sasha knocked her off balance. The metal edge grazed the creatures skull and the blade wedged itself into the mans collar bone. “Fuck!” Sasha screamed as the snapping jaws tore into the flesh covering her shoulder blade. Blood dripped from the creature’s chin as it buried his face into her back. Dana kicked the zombie in the forehead. Its head wretched backwards sending a spray of blood flying through the air.

  Sasha scurried to her feet, tears streaming down her face and a look of shock plastered on her expression. She turned around and reached out for the dresser, pulling it down on top of the creature and pinning it to the floor. “You piece of shit.” Sasha screamed at the twitching corpse. It struggled to move underneath the weight of the dresser. Sasha raised her foot and stomped the creature’s head over and over again until the skull caved in. An eye popped out of the socket and a rush of thick blood flowed out of the hole over the floor.

  “Sasha.” Dana tried to calm her down, but the young girl wouldn’t stop driving her foot down into the pile of mush that used to be the old man’s head. Every time her foot lifted up a sickening, sucking sound echoed over her sobbing cries. Dana reached out and pulled Sasha into her arms, trying to calm the girl down. “Sasha, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

  Sasha looked up at Dana with terrified eyes. They both knew what needed to be done. “How could you let this happen?” Sasha accused Dana.

  “I’m sorry.” Dana didn’t want to kill Sasha but she knew that she had to keep her child safe no matter what. “You should have let me kill him.”

  “You’re actually blaming me for this?” Sasha lashed out at Dana, throwing a right hook that took her by surprise. The blow knocked Dana backwards and she fell down hard on her backside. Sasha stared down at Dana with hatred burning in her eyes. She turned around and grabbed the handle of the garden hoe and yanked it from the dead man’s corpse. With a sickening, wet pop the blade dislodged the creature’s arm. A splash of blood spilled onto the floor and puddled underneath Sasha’s feet. She turned to lunge at Dana and she slipped in the greasy pool of dark fluids.

  Dana crawled backwards into the hallway and used the wall to pull herself up, darting towards the stairs just as Sasha swung the blade into the floor. Dana dashed down the stairs two at a time, the floor boards groaned loudly as Sasha chased after her. “Sasha, stop.” Dana pleaded as Sasha swung the hoe again. The metal edge narrowly missed Dana’s neck and sent a spray of gyprock flying through the air.

  “This is all your fault!” Sasha screeched as she barreled down the stairs. The last step broke underneath her and she slammed hard into the edge of the fireplace. Her head snapped back violently as it smashed into the iron edge. A burst of blood exploded from a large, gaping wound on Sasha’s forehead. Her body twitched and convulsed on the floor. Her grasp held the garden hoe tightly and refused to le
t go. Dana backed away and waited for the convulsions to stop. Sasha’s eyes nearly popped out of the sockets and spittle flew from her mouth. The blood oozed from the deadly gash on her head and smeared the floor underneath her head, soaking into her golden blonde hair.

  The front door open and a cold gust of wind rushed into the cabin. “What the hell happened?” Hank’s voice spoke up from the doorway.

  “Sasha got bit!” Dana cried. The sound of Hank’s approaching footsteps made Dana uneasy.

  Hank walked past Dana and knelt down and pinned Sasha to the floor. He pulled out a large hunting knife and without hesitation drove the blade deep into her skull. Sasha’s body went still and her arms flopped down to the floor, her eyes glued to Dana’s. Hank turned his head around and glared at Dana. “I can’t believe this could happen.”

  Dana didn’t have anything to say. She wanted to turn and run, but her legs wouldn’t move. The door opened behind her, she was too afraid to take her eyes off Hank. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do next. “Dana, are you okay?” Eric spoke up.

  “I’m fine,” Dana trailed off.

  Hank cradled Sasha’s blood-soaked head into his arms, pulling her close. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have left you here.” Hank rocked back and forth gently like a mother rocking her baby to sleep.

  “Hank, I’m so sorry.” Eric placed his hand on Dana’s shoulder and squeezed gently, turning her around to face him. His eyebrows and hair were covered in frost and his cheeks were bright red. “Dana, what happened here?”

  “Sasha got bit by a zombie.” Dana was getting agitated by the repeating question now. This was the second time she had to answer it. “It’s upstairs if you don’t believe me.” Dana felt she needed to defend her actions.

  “Why were you guys over here?” Eric questioned.

  “We came over to check the cabin out, see what supplies we could gather.” Dana didn’t want to blame Sasha for what had happened, even if it was her fault. “We were upstairs going through the bedrooms and a man had hung himself. When he saw us he got all riled up and the rope broke. He fell on top of Sasha and took a bite.” Dana hid the full truth from Eric; she didn’t want to upset Hank.

  “Well, we should head back to the cabin and give Hank some time alone.” Eric ushered Dana towards the door. “Hank, do you need anything?”

  “Bring me a shovel.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN:

  DIGGING

  Byrne could feel the sweat running down his back. The frigid winds whipped through the trees and cut through his winter jacket, chilling him to the bone. He drove the pick axe down into the frozen ground. The vibrations hurt his hands with every strike, he had no choice but to continue. He looked around at the other soldiers as they dug into the forest floor, mounds of snow piled up around them. A look out had been posted at the edge of the woods around Grand Falls, but no one from the town bothered to leave the comforts of their warm buildings. A few bikers had walked along their sentry, showing no interest in leaving their designated path.

  Sucking in a few deep breaths, Byrne laid the pick axe aside and picked up his shovel to remove the dirt he had loosened. He took extra care not to throw the gravel over the snow, making sure to keep it all in a neat pile so he could hide from view. He had been trained to dig trenches before, but he had never dug one in frozen soil. This was proving to be much harder that he had expected, even though they still had time to set up their traps. Once the zombies from the great herd entered the city from the east, they would be forced into the woods in the west, which was where they would ambush them.

  He could hear footsteps approaching from behind, the snow crunching under the heavy boots. “Take a break, private,” Suzanne said as she stepped down into the hole.

  “It’s not very deep yet.” Byrne was disappointed with his lack of progress. He examined Suzanne’s face, unable decipher her mood. Her expression remained unchanged since the moment he met her.

  Suzanne pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Byrne, who gladly took one and placed it in his mouth. “Nobody has made much progress yet, but we will get it done in time,” She assured him. “We have another two days before we need to execute the plan and we should have help soon.” She flicked her zippo open and a tall flame burned brightly. She lit her own fag first than offered the flame to Byrne.

  “Thanks.” Byrne inhaled a deep puff and tilted his head back, staring up into the tree branches over head. “We could use some of those to build a canopy over the trenches.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll make sure we get that done.” The chief paced from one end of the trench to the other, placing one foot directly in front of the other, counting the distance. “This needs to be another three paces wider to fit three people in here.”

  Byrne stared down at the frozen ground and sighed. “I think we have room for three people in here now.”

  “You’ve never been in an actual fire fight have you, private?” Suzanne didn’t sound impressed with the private’s objection.

  “No, I haven’t, but the trench is three-shoulder-widths long.” Byrne gazed at the length of the trench and was sure he gagged the length correctly.

  “The trench will fit three people and there’s even enough room for the weapons but you forgot an important point.” Suzanne paused briefly, not giving Byrne enough time to come up with a response. “Have you ever got a hot piece of lead on your back? It’s not very pleasant and it can interrupt your aim.”

  Byrne felt his cheeks blush with embarrassment. “I’ll fix it.”

  Suzanne laughed. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not the only one who needs to do a little more digging.” Suzanne left the shallow trench and headed through the deep snow towards the next trench, stepping down carefully into the next one.

  Byrne grabbed his shovel and headed over to the edge of his trench, scooping away the snow. He was grateful that the snow weighed a small fraction of the soil and didn’t offer much resistance. It only took a few minutes to uncover enough ground to make his trench long enough. He walked over to his small pack and rummaged through an open pack of rations. He only had two meals, so he had to make sure that he spaced out his food so he wouldn’t be too hungry when the assault happened. Suzanne had expected more rations to be delivered tomorrow, but they couldn’t guarantee Warrant Smith would be able to make it back in time. If it snowed much more he wouldn’t be able to get back from Corner Brook in time and they would have to go ahead with the plan without him. They would be greatly outnumbered and their supply of ammo would be exhausted after a few short minutes.

  Taking out a pack of peanut butter and a stale bun, Byrne spread the condiment over the bun and took a bite. The peanut butter still tasted good, but the old bread was as hard as a rock and wasn’t fit to eat. He ate the peanut butter from the packet, squeezing out the last ounce directly into his mouth. He looked down into the brown paper bag and shook it, trying to find something else that he could snack on. He decided to eat an energy bar before getting back to work. Byrne sat down in the trench and ripped open the plastic wrapper. He took a bite of the double chocolate energy bar and found it chalky and dry. He had to chew it for a long time before he could choke down a lump of the food.

  Cursing under his breath, he got back to his feet and grabbed the pick axe. He swung it over his head and down into the frozen earth, his cold hands were starting to blister now. Every muscle on his body hurt and he had hunger pains, but he continued to swing the pick axe over and over relentlessly.

  All of the lawns were buried under the snow and the roof tops were covered in white. The colours of the siding stood out against the pale back drop. The city of Corner Brook looked to be asleep as Warrant Smith drove his convoy down West Valley Road. He checked the rearview mirror to make sure the other truck was still in view. They had fallen behind, riding the brake down the hill. Smith was worried that they would get stuck in the deep snow if they didn’t pick up the speed.

  The only sign of activity were the
shuffling foot prints scattered throughout the streets, wandering around aimlessly. The old mil-cot trudged through the snow, the bald tires slipping on the treacherous wet pavement. Smith kept his foot pressed on the brake now, letting the seasoned truck roll down the hill towards the old armories. He checked his mirror again and noticed his other half had gained some ground on him.

  “What if we get stuck down here?” Tina asked nervously from the passenger seat.

  “Once we get my jeep we won’t have any problems.” Smith patted his jacket pocket, the keys jingling inside. “It was built to handle any kind of terrain.” His assault rifle rattled back and forth in the holder that kept the muzzle pointing up towards the roof. The built in gun rack was rusted but still managed to do its job. Smith wished he could have taken more troops with him, but he knew the soldiers had a lot of work to do in the woods outside of Grand Falls, so he went with just Tina and two young men that he could afford to lose. The thought made him feel guilty, but he knew they would fold under the pressure of a gun fight with the biker gang. He wouldn’t be surprised if they ran away at the first sign of trouble in the city. They had proven themselves cowardly during the night the fence fell down. Privates Clarke and Keough had tried to remain calm, but the let the dead rattle their nerves. They had turned to run before the orders were given to abandon the armories. They weren’t the only ones that had lost their nerves, they just happened to be the only ones that lived through the night. They may still be useful, but Warrant Smith had to keep a close eye on them.