Dead: Snapshot 01: Portland, Oregon

by T. W. Brown

  “I’m not going to shoot you…again,” he added that last word as he tucked his gun back in his belt.

  He saw the other two that he’d shot lying where they’d fallen. He also saw a few figures moving with that slow, awkward walk in his general direction. Reaching down, he scooped the girl up. She yelped and struggled weakly in his grasp.

  “Shut up, I’m not going to hurt you. You need to see a doctor,” he hissed.

  “Just let me go!” she insisted.

  Ken looked back at the advancing figures. Turning slightly, he pointed them out. “You want me to leave you to them?”

  She seemed to consider her choices and then leaned into his side. He walked her to the front of the truck and opened the door. He cast a look of longing over his shoulder. There was still so much inside the store that he could use, but he needed to check on his mother and get this girl some help. He knew that Legacy Hospital was not too far away. He could drop the girl off at the emergency entrance and then head to his mother’s.

  Moving around the car, he heard a scream and, as he unlocked his door, he saw three figures falling on the prone body of one of his attackers. He actually felt sorry for the person. He’d heard that scream from Gina Glendon and could only imagine what was happening to whichever of the male attackers he’d shot.

  Climbing into the cab, he was instantly met by the snuffling face of the retriever. He eased in and nudged the dog back into the extended part of the cab behind the front seats. The scream rose in pitch and then went silent in an instant.

  “What was that?” the girl asked, sounding for the first time like a frightened young lady.

  “Something bad,” was Ken’s reply as he started the truck and headed for the exit. “Now buckle up. I am taking you to the hospital.”

  ***

  Rose backed away. Frank stood, his insides spilling from a rip in his belly. Before she could take another step, Rose heaved, the contents of her stomach making a splash on the hardwood floor of her living room.

  Her mind struggled to process what she was seeing, but nothing made any sense. As she fought to get her mind to wrap around what was happening, the two men began to draw closer. Standing in the entry hall, the sounds of frantic barking came from her bedroom where Imp and Circe were shut away.

  The two figures, Frank and the neighbor, took step after agonizing step towards her. As the intensity of the barking increased, Frank’s head turned in a jerky movement that was almost inhuman in the way it twitched; very nearly like that of a bird. Rose could not allow them to head down the hallway to her bedroom. She had no idea if they could open a door or not, but she needed to get these two men out of her house.

  “Hey!” Rose yelled. Frank’s head came back around and he started towards her once again.

  Rose backed to the front door, reaching behind her to open it. She had to actually step closer to the advancing monstrosities for just a second as she pulled her door open. At last she was able to slip around it as the neighbor’s hand swiped at her and missed by just a few inches.

  Stepping outside, Rose backed down her stairs and looked around. The entire neighborhood was strangely quiet. It was only late afternoon, and not even children could be seen playing outside or walking down the street. It was as if she were the only person actually at home.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Rose backed down the path once the neighbor and Frank both exited her house. The neighbor reached the first stair and stumbled, landing with a sickening crack as he struck the concrete and tumbled down the three stairs. Frank did not seem to notice and followed in the neighbor’s footsteps. The only thing that was different was that Frank landed on the neighbor who was struggling to try and roll over.

  As the two men became disentangled, and the neighbor crawled free, Rose noticed that the man’s arm now had an obscene break in the forearm. Bone jutted through skin, but he took no notice and actually tried to use the arm as he struggled to his feet. Rose had to battle with her rising gorge as she saw the broken forearm bend at the midpoint and then snap in half. The arm was, at this point, totally useless, as the lower half of the forearm was now barely connected by skin and ruined muscle.

  Rose walked out into the street and waited as Frank and the neighbor, through some miracle, managed to make it to their feet and continue to pursue her at their slow, awkward pace. Once they reached the end of her driveway, Rose was actually at a loss as to what to do. It wasn’t like she could continue to act as some sort of Pied Piper. She had to figure out a way to ditch the pair and get back to her home.

  Then what? she thought as she backed down the middle of the street.

  Almost on cue, her phone rang. She knew by the ringtone that it was her sister. Grabbing the phone from her pocket, Rose thumbed it and answered.

  “Hello? Violet?”

  “Rose!” Her sister’s voice was frantic. But there was something else about it that sounded off. She couldn’t place it, but there was definitely something off.

  “Violet, Frank is here, and there is something wrong—” she began, but her sister cut her off.

  “Don’t let him in, Rose. This is every—”

  And then the line went dead.

  ***

  “Dios mio,” the voice sighed.

  Jason had hit the brakes and spun to look in back. Juanita was climbing up from the floor where she had tumbled. He was pretty sure that zombies didn’t talk. Sure, some of the more peculiar books had that going on. He didn’t much care for those, but who knew where the line was drawn between fact and fiction. He would have laughed at the idea of zombies as early as this morning, but events were proving that perhaps truth was as strange as fiction…or something like that.

  “Juanita?” Jason asked tentatively. One hand was opening and closing in a tight fist; the other was gripping the door latch. He was pretty sure that he could escape before she bit him.

  “Where are we?” the woman asked, rubbing her head tenderly and wincing.

  “The hospital.” Jason paused before making his admission. “I thought you might be dead. I was bringing you here to be sure.”

  Juanita was silent for a moment before she finally spoke again. “Then you must not have seen what I saw.”

  “You mean about the zombies?” Jason blurted. As soon as the word left his mouth he wished that he could get it back. He had already given Juanita enough reasons to ditch him. Showing that he was nuts in the head would not do him any favors.

  “So you have seen them,” Juanita whispered.

  “Don’t tell me that you think…” His voice trailed off as a woman walked past the car.

  They were parked so that they could see the sidewalk that ran along the front of the parking lot where the street went past. The streetlights were all coming on as the light sensors activated them to push back the gloom of the growing darkness of night.

  The woman was a bloody mess. There was a strand of what could only be intestine trailing behind her. and as she passed directly under the light, the knife jutting from her chest drew the focus from the missing flesh of her cheek. Her walk was a sort of drag step that reminded Jason of an old man he knew in prison that had suffered a massive stroke. One side of him was partially paralyzed, so his walk was this incredibly awkward gait. Unfortunately, inside, that made him not only a target of ridicule, but also of the general population’s bullies.

  “But when I listened to your chest, I didn’t hear a heartbeat,” Jason said weakly.

  “Well, I can promise you that I am not a zombie,” Juanita replied as she climbed over the seat.

  “So what do we do?”

  Juanita thought it over for a moment before turning to face Jason. “I don’t think going into the hospital is a good idea.”

  “But your head.”

  “I’m fine,” Juanita brushed aside his concern.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to be sure,” Jason insisted.

  The two craned their necks around to look back at the hospital entrance. Despite the fac
t that the lot was packed and three ambulances sat in the entry bay with lights on and back doors open, the warm glow of the entrance did not seem to bode ill.

  “I will stay right by your side,” Juanita said, patting Jason on the arm.

  Together, they took another look around to ensure that there were no more zombies walking past. Once they were fairly certain that the coast was clear, they exited the car, both taking special care to shut the door as quietly as possible.

  Without realizing it, they clutched each other’s hand and started toward the entrance to the hospital emergency room. They were just crossing the last crosswalk where the main entrance allowed access to the parking lot when the roar of an engine sounded and the bright headlights of an oncoming vehicle chased away the darkness in a blinding flash. The tires screeched as the driver had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the pair.

  So this is what a deer feels like, a muted voice said from somewhere in the back of Jason’s mind.

  ***

  Ken came to a stop at the intersection. He heard the gasp from beside him and he had to blink a few times for his own eyes to fully register what he was seeing.

  Two cars had collided at the intersection. Both were high priced luxury vehicles, and later, when he was trying to purge his mind of some of the horrors he’d seen, he would muse that both driver’s probably felt they had some sort of special privilege afforded them. He’d responded to his share of car accidents where some asshole in an expensive car, driving like he or she owned the road, ended up in a fender bender. He never bothered to hide his smile when he handed them their ticket for any infractions they may have committed to cause the accident.

  In this case, the cars had ended in a T-bone right in the center of the intersection. However, that wasn’t the problem that he was dealing with as he took in the scene. It was the fact that a few of those things—he was ready to call them zombies now—had pulled the occupants from the wreckage. A girl no older than fourteen was just standing there in the street, an arm that had been torn from a body clutched in her hands as she chomped into the flesh. Her own injuries were nothing more than dark blotches on her shoulder where her light colored shirt was ripped and stained in that general area.

  Sitting on the ground by one of the luxury sedans were three more zombies pulling out a spool of entrails from a torso that looked to be missing an arm and both legs and stuffing it into their mouths. One of them had a large glob of something that kept slipping from its grasp and landing on the pavement. In his mind, Ken could almost hear the wet splat. In any other situation, this might have been comical as the zombie picked up the unidentifiable organ and would lose its grip just before shoving it into its mouth.

  Ken needed to get around all of that to make it to the hospital. He glanced to his right at the girl in the passenger’s seat. Her hoody had slipped down to reveal her close-cropped hair that was dyed in a rainbow of colors. The black eyeliner had run down her face from the crying and added to her bizarre appearance. For a second, he was almost reminded of Alice Cooper in the way that the black had made long, dark trails down her pale face. She was staring straight ahead, and her mouth was open in a “oh” of shock and probably horror at what they were witnessing.

  “Hold on,” Ken warned before giving the truck a little gas.

  At first, the zombies paid him no mind, but as he neared to within ten or so feet, heads began to turn towards this new stimulus of sound. The girl holding the arm let it fall as she pivoted awkwardly and began a slow shamble in their direction. That was enough for him. Ken hit the gas.

  The truck launched forward, the bumper clipping the girl zombie and sending her flying. He felt the truck lurch as he ran over another that was struggling to its feet.

  “What the hell are you doing!” the girl shrieked from beside him. “You can’t just hit people with your truck!”

  “Just shut up and hang on!” Ken snarled.

  They were barreling towards two more of the blood drenched monstrosities when the girl reached over and tried to yank the steering wheel to the right in order to avoid hitting the walking corpses. Ken smacked her with a hard backhand. The girl’s head slammed into the edge of the doorframe on her side of the truck and she went limp.

  The entire time, the dog had been whimpering and whining in the back of the cab. When he struck the girl, the dog began to bark furiously.

  “Oh shut up,” Ken yelled over his shoulder. “She was going to get us all killed.”

  The dog made a high-pitched sound in the back of its throat and Ken felt his insides twist. He glanced over at the girl; she was out cold, but he could see that she was still breathing. He hadn’t meant to hit her so hard. But if he hadn’t done something, she might have gotten them killed.

  Or worse, Ken thought as he drove past a small pack of the zombies that had come out from between some trees that were planted in the center lane divider.

  He zoomed past a blue sign that told him the hospital was to the left. Unfortunately, he did not notice that sign until he was passing it. Slamming on the brakes again and sending the truck into reverse, Ken reached over instinctively and kept the girl from being thrown forward and slamming into the dashboard.

  He felt the truck shudder as he slammed into one of the approaching zombies with his rear bumper. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he made out a handful of them heading his direction. Cranking the wheel to the left, Ken popped the truck back into drive and took off down the two-lane road that led to the entrance of Legacy Hospital.

  The entrance was marked by the large, lit neon sign that read “EMERGENCY ENTRANCE” in bright red letters. Ken turned hard and spied two figures ahead that were crossing right in front of him. He did not want to hit two of those things head on with the truck. That sort of thing might look great in movies or on television, but the reality was that a human body could inflict serious damage to a vehicle. He did not want to risk losing his only means of escaping the city. As Ken slammed on the brakes, he felt his heart seem to skip a beat and then leap up into his throat. Those weren’t zombies…they were living people. He just hoped to God that the truck would come to a complete stop in time.

  ***

  It had been easier than she first thought. Rose had ducked around a van parked on the street just a house away from hers. The two men had stumbled along, and as she snuck carefully up the sidewalk in the opposite side, she could hear them making strange moans and mewling noises. Once she felt confident that she could slip away, Rose hunched down and hurried back to her house. She glanced back as she reached the door. The pair was still heading along the street and about to cross the intersection. Rose slipped inside and shut the door quietly.

  As soon as she did, her stomach lurched a little. The stench of the two men mixed with the tangy acrid stink of her vomit was overwhelming. Rose tried to breathe through her mouth as she went to the bedroom door where Circe and Imp could be heard snuffling on the other side.

  She opened the door and was greeted by the pair of bounding dogs. Imp jumped up on her, but quickly slid down her front, shifting into a sort of guard dog mode as he moved in a crouched down prowl towards the living room. His nose was in overdrive. Circe was a different story as she kept leaping up and nudging Rose with her head. As soon as Rose bent down, the warm, wet tongue of the Border Collie made several passes along her cheek and chin. Twice it felt like the little pink muscle was going to shoot up a nostril and pierce her brain.

  That moment of normality allowed Rose to catch her breath. She hugged the smaller red and white dog close for a moment. With a shudder, she stood and walked into the bedroom. Both dogs were on her heels. Even Imp abandoned his investigation to keep in close proximity to Rose.

  The two jumped up on the bed and watched as Rose grabbed a gym bag from the closet and began stuffing a few things in it. She packed enough for a few nights, making sure to grab hiking boots as well as her trail runners. She knew from experience that it paid to have both if she was going to be at her sister�
��s house for any length of time.

  Certain that she had enough for a few days, she stopped at the kitchen pantry and grabbed the bin with the dog food as well as their bowls. As an afterthought, she tossed in the container of treats.

  Making a point to look outside from a few windows in order to be sure that the two men had not returned, Rose turned to Imp and Circe. Both dogs sat, staring up attentively. She clipped on their leashes, not wanting Imp to take off after something if the urge struck him. She’d almost lost him once; that was not going to happen again.

  Opening the door just a crack, she peered up and down the street one more time to be extra certain. Confident that the way was clear, she stepped outside, shut the door, and locked it. In a quick walk, she hurried to the car and opened the passenger side door. Both dogs jumped in; Circe curling in a tight ball on the floor of the passenger side as always, and Imp hopping over to the driver’s side and watching her come around the car. She could almost swear that he expected her to just hand him the keys and let him drive.

  “In the back, Imp,” Rose whispered as she opened the door to climb in. He gave her a cocked head in response for just a second before turning and bounding into the back seat.

  Climbing in, Rose started her car. As she pulled out, her head craned to the left. She saw Frank and the neighbor. They hadn’t gone far, and apparently the sound of the car was bringing them back as they both turned awkwardly, sort of bumping into each other as they made the effort to come for her.

  Gunning it, Rose took off and headed for the highway. She hated that her drive would take her back towards downtown Portland. Still, she needed to get to her sister’s house as soon as possible. She pulled out her phone, plugging it into the car charger as she drove. Occasionally, she would tap the button and try to call, but she either got the “All circuits are busy” message…or nothing. She did not know which she hated more.