The Living Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Coast

by Albemont, L. I.

The blaze of joy on her face made David smile. “A baseball stadium is a good rendezvous point for an air rescue. A wide open field and great visibility all around. No point in trying for this air field now. We can turn around and get back on a main road. We’ll make better time.”

  She stopped and put the truck in reverse, backing down the narrow lane with her hand on the back of the seat. She surprised him by taking his hand and pressing it to her cheek. Her hand was warm and her cheek soft and he almost, almost cupped her chin to turn her toward him but she stiffened and turned her head, looking through the rear window. Following her gaze he saw why.

  The little lane had filled in behind them. The infected had already reached the truck bed and were moving around the sides. Advancing clumsily but with savage, rapacious intent, a man, shreds of skin hanging from his arms, grabbed the side view mirror and hung on as Bea tried to speed up. Dull thuds shook the truck and their heads hit the ceiling of the cab as they bowled over the fallen bodies. The man grasping the mirror hissed, hands scrabbling to hang on to the window. His fingers locked in the narrow gap at the top and the window began to slowly slide down.

  Bea scrambled through her backpack. Where was her fence post?

  “Just shoot him! Here!” David handed over his gun and she fired, the report painfully loud in the confined space. The dead man’s face caved in and she saw daylight through the back of his head. He dropped off.

  The window wouldn’t roll back up. She pressed on it and pushed but it stayed down. More dead reached them and thrust searching hands into the truck. One caught her hair in a vise-like grip and wouldn’t let go. Tears came to her eyes from the pain before she shot it in the head, closing her eyes and mouth tightly against spatter. Even then the grip didn’t relax and she pried the dead fingers apart. The body fell under the truck and they bounced as they rolled over it. Bea’s scalp burned.

  The crowd became impenetrable and the truck almost bogged down. Seeing no other choice Bea put the truck in drive and they shot away from the moaning throng. Ahead was a fenced-in, paved area with razor wire and a locked gate. A sign read “Muncy Airfield”. There were a few dead wandering inside the fence. They kept going.

  The street dead-ended just past the airfield. Tall privet shrubs surrounded this end of the street blocking any view of what might be behind them. Far in the distance now but not slowing down the dead were staggering closer. Bea looked at David, shrugged and gunned the engine, speeding up to break through the shrubs. Terrified, David gripped the door handle. A maelstrom of branches whipped around them, hitting the windows and doors and then they came to an abrupt stop, nose down in a ditch. Bea’s head hit the side window hard and she cried out then gunned the engine but the wheels spun uselessly.

  David slammed his fist on the dash in frustration. They would have to go forward on foot. Bea was already climbing out, standing by the truck bed, swaying a little. Blood ran down her forehead and she wiped it away from her eyes with the palms of her hands then began taking boxes from the truck.

  “Stop it! There’s no time and we can’t carry all of it.” David took just his backpack and guns and handed her the Glock and backpack she left in the cab.

  She kept removing the boxes with her free hand. “Brian needs these. He lost his shoe, don’t you remember?” She set two boxes on the ground and went back for more.

  “Bea, let’s go!” David grabbed her arm and then noticed the blood on her forehead. He took her head in his hands and turned her face toward him. Her left pupil might be slightly larger than her right and if so that was a classic sign of concussion. A gash near her hairline bled freely.

  He pulled her away from the truck and she didn’t fight him, donning her backpack when he handed it to her. They climbed out of the ditch onto pavement.

  “We have to find transportation. Come on.” David began to stride down the street then looked back to see Bea still standing by the ditch. She wiped her forehead again and stared perplexedly at the blood on her hand. David took her arm and pulled her along.

  They were in a residential area, a little on the shabby side. Several houses sported boarded-up windows and doors. Cars were parked randomly here and there but none had keys in them. The moans and shuffles were getting louder even though they couldn’t see the dead through the privet yet.

  Discarded items filled the streets, backpacks, fishing tackle, a pink, plastic Barbie dream house, all dropped by fleeing residents. A dead dog, white ribs facing upward and legs torn off, lay in a gutter. They passed a burned-out house containing an infected clawing at flame-scorched basement walls and trying to climb out. He or she had been so badly burned that it was impossible to make out any features; hair, nose and ears were all burned away.

  Most of the houses were locked up tight with no evidence of living human habitation. David looked back down the street behind them. Four infected made it through the hedge and were coming their way. He could shoot them but the gunfire would inexorably draw the others. He gripped Bea’s arm tighter and pulled her along. She stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding her up.

  He glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone raised an upstairs window in a red, clapboard, two-story house on the next block and was beckoning to them. He strained to see. The figure left the window.

  Behind them more infected emerged from side streets and shambled along, getting closer.

  Any port in a storm, David thought. The red house was just a little farther. Bea was starting to stagger. He put an arm around her waist and half dragged her across the street.

  Here the houses were a little more spaced-out, some with detached garages left open when their owners fled. Smooth lawns sloped down to sidewalks littered with more detritus of the fleeing. Seemingly out of nowhere a man, wearing nothing but filthy, stained boxers, shreds of skin hanging from a ragged hole in his abdomen, slammed into David, taking him to the ground.

  He felt the dead man’s mouth chomp down hard on his arm, tearing away the nylon shell and the down underneath. Little puffs of feathers floated to the ground. Chewing for a few seconds before spitting them out, the man came in for another bite.

  Spinning around, David kicked him hard in the face before scrambling backward and almost colliding with Bea who was standing, holding a Glock in shaking hands. She looked down at her hands almost as if they belonged to someone else and had nothing to do with her. When the gun fired twice she looked surprised.

  The first shot hit pavement. The second hit the dead man in the side of his face, blowing off his jaw and the side of his skull. Black chunks splattered across the street. He went down.

  “I think he wanted to hurt you.” She struggled to get the words out and her speech was slurred.

  David almost laughed. “I think you’re right. Let’s get inside.”

  More dead staggered into the street behind them. They ran for the red house, David hoping she didn’t collapse before they got to the steps. Someone opened the door and they almost fell inside, finding themselves in near-total darkness. David froze when he heard a shotgun rack.

  Chapter Two

  David put his hands up and turned slowly, looking for the source of the sound. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw they were in a small front room containing a sofa, a television and a gigantic fish aquarium. Heavy curtains covered the single window. A strong smell of cigarette smoke hung in the air.

  A shadowed figure, shotgun held at the ready, strode angrily forward.

  “What was that for? Don’t you know that gunshot is going to draw a crowd of those monsters?”

  A chunky, dark-haired man, wearing heavy-duty work boots and a camouflage vest, he seemed to be almost sparking with rage. Bea flinched and backed away then raised the Glock. He didn’t slow down and knocked it from her hand then slammed her into the wall. She saw stars before the room seemed to recede down a narrowing hallway and all sounds ceased. She slumped to the ground.

  Choked with rage, David raised the butt of his rifle and m
anaged to land a good hit in the guy’s substantial belly. His breath released with a startled oomph but he didn’t go down. He launched himself at David and threw him to the floor, battering him with those steel-toed boots. David kicked him hard in the knees and he came down, almost on top of him.

  The two men were silent during the whole struggle, both aware that the creatures would be drawn to sound. Just as David managed to sit on top of his opponent, ready to punch the man’s head into the floor, a deep moan and then a keening snarl sounded outside. Both men froze.

  The man sucker-punched David in the stomach then slid out from under him. Scrambling to his feet he twitched the curtain aside and looked out.

  “Five or six of them now. In a few minutes it’ll be a hundred.” He glared at them then noticed that Bea was unconscious.

  “What’s wrong with her? I didn’t hit her that hard.”

  “She has a concussion, you jackass. Who knows how much damage you caused when you hit her.” David caught his breath then scooped her up and carried her to the sofa. Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. He checked and found her pulse was racing.

  “What was I supposed to do? She pulled a gun on me.”

  “Only after you racked that shotgun and came at us. Do you have any blankets?” He wanted to keep her warm.

  “I know there are some upstairs. This isn’t my house. I was getting ready to leave when I saw the two of you. We can’t stay here.”

  “I’m going to have to stay here. At least until she gets back on her feet. Could you just look for some blankets? Please.”

  The man grunted and turned away. David heard a click and looked around. Their reluctant host had just turned on a closet light and was rummaging through the closet contents. Electricity?

  “You have power here?”

  “Yeah. Not sure why. This is a pretty old part of town. Maybe it’s on a different sub-station from the rest of the area. I’m not using lights unless I have to and I’m trying to keep them from showing through the windows. Don’t want to attract unwanted attention.” He emerged from the closet with a knitted afghan.

  David covered Bea. “I don’t think they can see very well, if at all.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that but there are other threats. Lots of gangs and just plain old-fashioned bad guys in Cincinnati will thrive in situations like this. Like the ones down south that deliberately stayed in New Orleans during Katrina just to loot or worse.”

  “Should we be worried that the homeowner is going to come back and shoot us for trespassing? Do you know whose house this is?”

  “My ex-wife’s. I came over here looking for my two boys when all this broke. Everyone was gone when I got here and I’ve been trapped by the infected for two days. They had cleared out when you and your gun-happy girlfriend showed up. Thanks a lot.”

  The chorus of moaning outside rose to a disturbing pitch. David felt the hair on his neck prickle. How he hated that sound. It carried such driving, primal menace. No thought behind it, just the urgent hunger to kill and consume.

  “Look, I’m sorry. That guy came on us so fast. I mean, we know how attracted they are to sounds but we had to get rid of it. My name is David and this is Beatrice. She’s not my girlfriend, by the way. We’re trying to get to the west coast. She’s trying to find her brother and I have business out there.”

  “I’m Homer Hazard.” He fished in his down vest and drew out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a deep drag.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “But you’re-”

  “Asian, I know. As far as the Christian name goes my mom liked reading the classics and the surname is supposed to be an anglicized version of Hsiao.”

  “So you’re from Ohio?”

  “My family is from Tennessee. Can we move on? Do you want to take your ‘not girlfriend’ upstairs to one of the bedrooms? She’ll rest a lot better on a bed.”

  “No. It’s fine. I want to keep an eye on her. Plus who knows when we’ll have to bug out,” David said.

  “So you’re headed to the west coast? That’s a long way to travel with or without zombies blocking the way. You know the whole country is infested, right?”

  “We assumed it was but we don’t have any recent details.”

  “You need to educate yourself fast, buddy. The west coast was hit by an off-shore earthquake and the tsunami that rolled in smashed the harbors and beaches. They’re a mess out there. You’re on foot?”

  “We are now. No keys in any of those vehicles in the streets. How were you going to get out?”

  “The black truck out there is mine. I’d be long gone by now but I’ve got very limited ammo. Just a few shells left. Those things finally migrated to the next block. I can handle a few at a time but hundreds- I’m screwed. Lord knows when I’ll get out of here now. I’m going up to get a better look at the street.”

  He left. David found the kitchen and ran water on a paper towel to wipe some of the blood from Bea’s face. He hoped the water wasn’t contaminated. If it wasn’t now it soon would be. Municipal utilities probably hadn’t been maintained since all of this started.

  He peered out the window. The crowd had increased exponentially. The dead shuffled back and forth, bumping into one another or cars, sometimes falling but always getting back up eventually. As usual they showed no real awareness of one another. A woman fell down and he was close enough to see she had no skin left on the soles of her feet. She must have walked it off. Others were in worse shape.

  Sitting on the floor he went through his backpack. Still plenty of ammo but not enough to shoot his way out of here. He double-checked all of his weapons, making sure they were loaded. He then inspected Bea’s Glock and noticed a few light rust spots. He added two bullets to the magazine and snapped it back into place, thinking that he should look for some gun oil soon.

  Bea murmured something and her hands moved restlessly. He took both hands and held them in his. She drew a shaky breath and seemed to slip into a deeper sleep. He sat beside her for a while.

  There was a laptop on a kitchen counter and David booted it up, hoping it wasn’t password protected. The blue light from the screen was comforting, a reminder of civilization and normalcy and being connected with the rest of the world. He checked his email (old habits die hard) but there was nothing helpful there. Searching he found the latest posting from WHO, dated three days ago.

  World Health Organization

  Z-virus now in Post-Pandemic Period

  Director-General’s statement at virtual press conference

  Update: Canada

  Alberta Children’s Hospital reports considerable anxiety among the international community since the reported bombing deaths of an entire ward of children of guest workers from Mali. Hospital spokesperson Monique Darr confirmed the auxiliary wing of the hospital was bombed by persons unknown at this time. Witnesses to the early morning attack described a group of men in military style uniforms all wearing knitted facemasks and arriving on the scene in black, late model SUVs with tinted windows.

  The Canadian government has a press conference scheduled for later today and WHO applauds this move and all efforts to increase the flow of information concerning the virus.

  This is not the first hospital bombing seen in Canada since the outbreak of the pandemic but is the first time children have been targeted specifically.

  Update: China

  The Chinese Ministry of Health, before today, has denied the existence of any cases of the virus in the country. Following a surprise shake-up in the Ministry, newly appointed director Xaio Ling confirmed a large number of virus cases in Guangdon Province but insists the situation is under control and they do not expect the disease to spread any further. Doctors say they have found no evidence that the disease is airborne and state that all new cases have occurred within isolated areas. All cases have been traced back to one hospital that has since been placed under quarantine.

  The ministry will no
w be providing daily updates on the illness. WHO is pleased with this effort at transparency that will help provide useful information to other nations dealing with the virus.

  Update: Switzerland

  Traffic checkpoints have been set up outside Geneva in an effort to stem the flood of refugees from Italy, which remains in crisis having been particularly hard-hit. The disease has spread outside the circle of first responder groups and their families. Overwhelmed hospitals have turned away patients causing them and their families to seek help outside the country. Surveillance in Switzerland has been heightened for suspect cases. Authorities now consider refugee cases 85% contained.

  In conclusion, as we move into the post-pandemic phase of the crisis we expect to see the disease spike in some areas with a gradual fade worldwide. Luck has been with us since the beginning in that cases were handled promptly and decisively and the virus itself did not mutate into an airborne transmittable form.

  David sat back and stared at the screen. He couldn’t believe what he just read. Post-pandemic? The World Health Organization thought this was over? Did they really think they were fooling anyone with this garbage?

  He heard footsteps on the stairs. Homer came in and started rummaging through the fridge, pulling out a beer. He popped the top, took a long, thirsty swig and then belched. David shut the browser and turned around.

  “Where were you when it all started?” Homer asked.

  “At work.”

  “Me too.” Homer spoke between swigs. “I work downtown. Two of the major hospitals there- oh my gosh, you wouldn’t believe the crowds waiting outside the ER that day they announced the outbreak. People downtown were supposed to be evacuating but really going nowhere since all the streets were blocked. It’s amazing how just a few wrecks, stalls, and abandoned vehicles can shut down the entire traffic grid. On top of that a couple of water mains burst and everything was coated with ice. You could barely walk down them much less drive.”

  “How did they evacuate then?”