The Aftermath Trilogy (Book 2): The Aftermath [Town of the Dead]

by Smith, Daniel

  He snatched the radio from his belt as he raised it to his head.

  “Go,” he stated.

  “All hell is breaking loose. We have two teams overrun by zombies with more reports coming in of attacks,” the voice started to report.

  Commander Hudson moved allowing his gray eyes to see the mass of zombies outside the doors on the street.

  “Recall everyone to base now,” he said into the radio.

  “Understood,” the voice started. “What is your ETA.”

  Commander Hudson turned to look at his troops for a second before keying the radio.

  “Unknown we are safe but pinned down will update in 30 minutes,” he stated.

  After the briefest pause.

  “Understood,” the woman’s voice answered.

  Commander Hudson turned to look at Mary.

  “Did he make it,” he asked softly looking at her for a reaction.

  “He took off running down the street,” she said looking guilty.

  Commander Hudson changed the radio channel to hear overlapping voices reporting zombie attacks or running from hordes of zombies.

  “He was not kidding about this town,” Commander Hudson said softly.

  Veering right towards Fifth Street watching more zombies come around the corner of the building. Forcing the people in the doorway to fight to close the doors stopping the zombies from entering after them.

  “Backdoor,” Dan thought running for the back of the building.

  He forced that idea from his mind instantly, as the back parking lot was now full of zombies.

  “Damn,” he swore where did they all come from as he did a quick look around in the falling rain. There was only one-way to go so he started to jog down Fifth Street ahead of the clumsily moving dead. He would take a side street and head back to their camp at the police station. The town dashed that plan as he saw more zombies coming up the side street he wanted to turn on, he could hear the moaning growing over the sound of the falling rain. Running past the next side street as more zombies milled around the street. Dan was fast approaching the electrical supply store. They had recovered the Mac truck from.

  “That will do,” he thought veering towards it.

  The idea of taking refuge in the store dashed. As he saw several zombies moving out of the tree line near the road to intercept him. He would never have enough time to secure the broken door. Before the number of zombies on the street overran him. A brilliant flash of lightning lit up the street revealing two zombies closer to him then he thought before the rolling boom of thunder echoed across the sky.

  Having no choice. At hearing their moans he pulled the black blade from his sheath. The metallic metal on metal hiss heard.

  As he ran at the first one a woman in a pair of blue jeans and an old shirt her long gray hair pulled into a ponytail. The solid milky white eyes staring at him from a shrunken face. As her clawlike hands reached at him.

  He swung the blade hard cutting off one hand before the head flew free in a tug a leathery flesh and parting bone.

  Dan had to stop and pivot as the next zombie a man in a dark jumpsuit appeared. His mind flashing back to all the blue jump suited zombies at the lab in Memphis for a second. Before he realized this was just something slightly different. Raising the black blade above his head to bring it violently down. Smashing the skull of the man with the sagging flesh on his face. Feeling the satisfying crunch of bone as the zombie dropped in the rain to the wet Street. Starting to run again he struggling to return the black blade into the sheathe on his back.

  He was starting to wondered as he kept running further away from where he could be safe. Did he push is luck here and now this town of the dead had a personal grudge against him and meant to make him stay here with them. He was starting to panic as he made to the intersection of Fifth and East Euclid avenue there was only one direction open to him as he ran right on to the next street. He was starting to breathe heavy as he jogged down the tree landed street with it small-town picture-perfect single story homes passing an occasional two story home. He had at least started going in the right direction. He had almost made it past Fourth Street and had made halfway down the street when everything went from bad to worst. There were two zombies ungainly moving slightly ahead of a mass of shambling zombies coming up the street. He hope to make it past them and onto a side street away from the growing numbers of zombies coming up the street in front of him at the intersection.

  He knew now this town was out to get him Dan reached up for the leather wrapped hilt of the Katana jerking the black metal blade from it sheath on his back. The metal hiss of drawing the blade drowned out by the rain. He froze, the closest zombies in front had cut him off from the side street. He looked at the zombies of James and Marion in horror. Their flesh was pale gray with bite marks and pieces of torn out flesh showing from ripped clothing visible on their body’s and outstretched arms. Those solid milky white eyes staring right at him accusingly the low pitiful moans coming from their mouths accusations at him for leaving them behind.

  It almost seemed impossible that they were still together even in death as his grip tighten on his sword hilt the tears in his eyes hidden by the rain. The look of despair washed across his face, everyone he had known or loved had ended as a zombie. His mother, father, Manny, James, Marion, who was next that he knew or cared for. Dan felt ashamed as he thought of just giving up. The mass of zombies behind his former friends continued shuffling towards him.

  “Commander it looks clear,” a man called out moving from the glass door.

  Commander Hudson moved quickly to the glass doors away from the group to look out onto the dark street. Only a few shambling figures seen.

  “Form up and move out to the trucks,” he said pulling his machete from his belt.

  The riot gear clad people burst from the glass doors in pairs. Moving in two lines around the building towards three flatbed trucks with metal rails for sides. Rounding the corner one slammed a zombie into the wall with the clear plastic shield as their partner smashed their machete into the zombies head. The rest of the group moving past them. The pair rejoining the group as the zombie hit the sidewalk. Making the trucks the group took off down the street heading for their camp at the police station.

  Commander Hudson pulled his radio from his belt.

  “Base we are incoming,” he spoke into the radio.

  A man’s voice came over the speaker of the radio.

  “Commander we have a massive number of zombies here approach with caution.”

  “Understood,” his soft voice responded.

  Slowing as the trucks neared a large crowd of zombies on the street blocking their way to the police station.

  “Turn here and take the back way in,” Commander Hudson said motioning to a street.

  The driver turned down one street. This street held fewer zombies. Nearing the police station.

  Damn,” the driver said slowing the truck.

  Sitting on the side of the road was a flatbed truck like theirs sitting at a slight angle on a pile of zombies some still struggling to move. With only the wood rails of the trucks sides protecting them from a hoard of zombies. Four people stood swinging baseball bats at the heads of the zombies trying to reach them.

  “Pull up close so they can jump,” Commander Hudson told the driver.

  Slowing the truck the driver pulled up close to the disabled truck pushing some zombies out-of-the-way.

  “Damn saved at last,” T-Boned yelled as the dark haired Juliet swung her bat.

  “About time,” she said as a zombie fell.

  The trucks came abreast of each other as the four people moved to jump on the truck of the self-defense force members. Moving to help as one swung their machete severing an arm from a zombie. Then using his boot to kick the severed arm back into the zombies gray face. The three trucks moving off towards the police station. Seeing the perimeter fence surrounded by zombies. Parts of the fence starting to sag in places. Commander Hudson
pulled his radio.

  “Pull up to the weak spots and use the trucks to push the zombies out-of-the-way,” he ordered. “We will climb over the fence using the trucks to reinforce it.”

  The drivers did as ordered knocking the zombies out-of-the-way. Scrambling the people in the truck started climbing over the fence. As the driver turned to Commander Hudson.

  “Do you want to break the window or shall I,” he asked.

  Commander Hudson turned in his seat as zombies started pressing up against the passenger window.

  ‘Go ahead,” he told the driver.

  The rear window shattered on the trucks as the occupants climbed into the truck’s bed before going over the fence.

  “I’m sorry,” he yelled at them his voice full of emotion. A look of fierce determination driving off the despair that was on his face. As lightning flashed across the sky he lunged forward bring the blade down in an overhand arc into James’s skull with a crunch of bone. His former friend’s body collapsed onto the dark wet street. Using gravity to help him ripped the blade from the yellow ooze that now started leaking from the shattered skull.

  He barely had time to twist feeling something grabbing at his gray day pack as he moved into a new stance with the sword in front of him. The black blade at a forty-five degree angle to his body. Looking in to the withered face of Marion. Her solid milky white eyes stared at him as he shoved the blade violently upwards to hit just under her chin. Causing the sharp blade to travel up into her skull impaling her brain as he moved towards her. For a moment time slowed, as she stayed supported by his blade. Dan flashed back to a time long ago at the start of this madness when it was his mother in front of him with her lifeless solid milky white eyes.

  Before she fell, he moved forward to allow the blade to twist so he could wrench it out of her skull as she hit the ground. Looking around franticly at several zombies reaching for him. He had taken too much time. Dispatching his former friends in life letting the zombies on the street in front of him block the intersection. Grabbing the blade with two hands he swung viciously at one zombie sending their head flying. As the headless body hit the ground causing a small chain reaction. Several zombies tripped on the body falling on top of it. Using this opportunity he ran for an old silver pickup truck sitting on the street. His foot used the front bumper to jump onto the hood then scrambled on to the cab’s roof. Looking around wildly for a safe place to go. Moving to the center of the cab allowed him a second to rest. Standing just out of reach of the zombies grasping hands.

  Spotting a wood fence a few yards down the street.

  “Out of sight out of mind,” he mumbled as he swung the blade sending a zombie’s hand flying off. Looking at the mob of zombies surrounding the truck he spotted the weak spot. Jumping onto the hood Dan lashed out with his boot impacting on a woman’s gray face. The woman in the yellow bathrobe fell back knocking over several zombies. Jumping down into the opening he created. He swung the black blade again cutting muscle and bone in the leg of a woman zombie as she started falling he spun kicking her into the ones behind her.

  Turning to cut the arm off another reaching for him. The opening this caused gave him his chance out. Springing forward he jumped the woman landing hard onto the chest of a man she knocked over feeling the zombies ribs crack under his weight. Moving off him Dan swung catching a zombie in the face with the blade. Sinking deep it jerked to a stop causing him to spin as he ran towards a wood fence surrounding a red brick house-sitting halfway down the road. He dodged another two zombies and swung hard at one zombie. Only managing to tear his throat out as he grabbed at Dan. Jumping up to grab a hold of the wood fence with the Katana blade still in his hand struggling to pull himself over. A sudden jerk on his foot as a zombie grabbed him. Kicking out in panic he managed to break free throwing him off balance as he tumbled over the fence.

  His Katana flying free of his hand as he crashed onto a pile of trash. Feeling a sharp pain in his right leg as he landed.

  “Damn it,” he cried as his hands shot to his leg to feel the warmth of blood on them.

  Dan started struggling to free himself from the pile of trash he had landed in. As a pathetic pounding started on the wood fence. He heard the moans of the zombies growing louder from the other side of the fence. Managing to free his leg he desperately looked about for his sword in the darkness. Spotting it in the wet grass a few feet away. Trying to stand his leg gave out in pain as he crashed back to the ground. His hand grasping his leg the warmth of his blood dripping from his fingers. Scrambling on his hands and knees he moved for the sword grabbing it. As the pounding on the wood fence grew louder.

  8 From Bad to worst

  Dan started pulling himself across the backyard in a crawled the sword still in his hand. The wet grass slippery causing him to struggle as he heard the boards creaking on the fence behind him. Making the fading steps of the back porch he started climbing up them.

  “Damn, Damn and damn,” he swore again. As the pale white light of a motion sensing floodlight came on. Bathing him a soft white light as he made it onto the wood back porch of the house out of the falling rain. Thrilling at any other time to see the solar powered light on the porch. Now the soft light a beacon for the undead masses pounding on the wood fence behind him calling them to dinner.

  Struggling to start slowly pulling himself up the steps out of the rain crossing the porch turning as he leaned against the wall of the house. He was cold, wet and his right leg did not want to support his weight. Listening he could hear the zombies moaning on the other side of the wood fence watching it sag in a couple of places every time the zombies pressed against it. Watching the fence bulge and creak of tortured wood as the mass of the undead pressed and pounded against it attempting to enter the backyard. Dan struggled to stand as best he could the pain in his leg making it hard as he started hopping on one foot to the back door of the house. The paint faded and peeling off. The back door had six small glass windows in it. Using his free hand, he shined the flashlight from his belt into one of the glass windows. Looking in the window the white beam of his flashlight lit up the kitchen area of the house. Playing the beam around he spotted an opening on the opposite wall leading into the house.

  Dan turned is head as the sound of the fence boards splintering and cracking came over the rain, without hesitation he slammed the point of the blade of his katana into the window. Breaking one of the glass windowpanes on the door near the lock running the blade hurriedly around the frame making sure the glass was gone before reaching through and unlocking the door. After pulling himself inside locking the door behind him, he stood as best he could listening for any sound coming from inside the house. Hearing none, he looked out the window in the kitchen door to see a large section of the backyard fence collapse with zombies falling on top of it. He stared at the porch light starting to worry the light would attract the undead closer to the house. Relief washing over him when the light went out. Whatever timer running the light had turned it off.

  Dan watched from the dark interior as more undead started pouring into the backyard through the collapsed section of fence once again tripping the light on. Moving as fast as his injured leg would let him as he hopped one legged. Moving for the kitchen’s entrance finding it opened into a large dining and living room area. He quickly moved inside getting out of view of any zombies that might climb onto the porch. Shining the light around the room stopping on a dining table out of sight of the kitchen window. Moving over to pull a dusty chair from the small dining table sitting down taking the weight off his injured right leg. Placing the Katana on the table he removed the K-bar knife from it sheath on his belt. Using it to start cutting his pant leg open to inspect the extent of his injuries. Dan saw a nasty gash exposing different shaded and textures of red on his leg. He expected to bleed more as he looked at the torn flap of skin.

  “It look like it needed stitches”, he thought, the blood was mixing with all water on his clothes making it seem worse.

 
Removing his daypack off his back to get at the few medical supplies he carried. Removing and pulling open a large plastic zip lock bag. He removed a large roll of gauze and started to bandage his leg the best he could. A slight shaking started to come over him as he worked. Feeling the chill from being wet he struggled to finish. He try to stand but the pain in his right ankle was too great. Sitting back down he bent over to start checking his ankle by squeezing it and trying to move it with his hands. While painful he did not think he broke it probably just badly sprained. With nothing to wrap it with now he sat in the chair letting the flashlight beam play across the room. Spotting a door he thought could possibly be a closet or lead to the basement onto a hallway possibly leading off to the bedrooms.

  The beam crossing along one wall over several pictures of children and into the living room, he saw a fireplace with some wood stacked next to it. Turing off the flashlight for a minute he leaned back in the chair looking past the kitchen out the back door windows. While the soft white light of the motion sensing light was still on, he saw no zombies on the porch.

  Sitting in the dark he started thinking.

  “He was in trouble and he knew it,” he sat brooding. “What was he going to do now,” his dark train of thought continued.

  “The radio”, he thought excitedly. His hands quickly moving for his belt then wildly over it. Disappointment washed over him like a tidal wave when he did not find it there.

  “Must have dropped it,” he muttered darkly. “And no one else knows where I am.”

  He started to shake sitting in the dark thinking.

  “With his bad ankle, there was no way he could outrun any zombies he met on his way back to the police station. Hell,” he thought.

  “He could not even outwalk them.” Trying to think on how he was getting out of this mess he started shivering more violently from the cold. He was getting cold. Knowing the shivering was a bad sign he stood and started hopping painfully on his one good foot towards the fireplace. After a painful try he managed to sit down.