This Dying World (Book 2): Abandon All Hope

by James D. Dean

  The smell of rain hit me as I pushed the door open, taps carrying from the boarded up bay windows opposite of where I stood. Lightning flashed through small openings in the boards, lighting the room in electric blue for a few seconds. A low rumbling thunder crawled across the land until it vanished behind the veil of falling rain.

  I looked around and saw nothing but a lobby full of dust covered plastic chairs tossed haphazardly across the room. The walls were barren of anything that could tell us our location. Gold sheriff stars painted on the walls were marred with streaks of paint to make sure any identifying marks were removed.

  “Another game,” I whispered, nodding to the vandalized stars. “No idea what game and really don’t care. Find a way out, I’ll be right back.”

  “We should stay together,” Tanya whispered harshly. “Where are you going?!”

  “I’ll be right back,” I repeated. “If you don’t see me in ten minutes, get the hell out of here!”

  Before they could lodge any protests, I crouched down and started my hunt, pistol firmly in my fully healed grasp. I heard Jeff swear as I darted away, but they did not follow.

  I crept through the station, looking through every window and every office for the man who had tortured me and so many others, the one who had threatened my family and my little girl. There would be no begging or pleading, no bargains would still my hand or sate my wrath. There was only one way this day was going to end.

  Blood would be spilled.

  I felt time growing short as my search became more frantic. I expected to find someone there, even with most out restocking their fuel stores. I was close to accepting the fact that the place had been abandoned when I came to a room that I could see was filled with rows of dark CCTV monitors.

  He was there.

  I stood from my crouch, walking up to the door window with my Glock raised. He was turned away from me, leaning back in a tall desk chair. His feet were propped up on the desk on front of him, the black shine of his shoes catching the glare of the battery operated lamp sitting on a table next to him, a copy of The Divine Comedy laying across his legs.

  I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. I had seen that graying hair and balding head far too many times to not know the man who was responsible for so much pain.

  “Fuck you, Jake,” I seethed.

  The Glock kicked, window shattering in front of me. In a halo of red mist, the top of Professor’s head vanished into a pulpy mess of gore and bone. The monitor in front of his dying body exploded as the .40 caliber slug slammed into the screen.

  I turned and walked away as his body slumped in his chair. A feeling of deep satisfaction settled in me as I made my way to the front of the building where the others were waiting. Though I had been responsible for a couple deaths, I had not directly pulled the trigger on a living being until that day.

  I had committed murder, and I was okay with it.

  Tanya and Jeff stood at the open front door, both faces a portrait of concern. I stopped and looked out the door into the heavy rain shower that had brought visibility to mere feet. I took a deep breath, savoring the smell of the spring storm.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and stepped outside into the soaking rain.

  Chapter 40

  The threshold passed beneath my feet, and as if a blanket of filth had been pulled away, the darkness of the building disappeared and opened into the light of a midday thunderstorm. I walked down the few concrete steps, leaving the dry patch under the building’s awning and into the cool spring rainfall.

  I turned my head to the sky, heavy droplets pelting my face and soaking every bit of clothing I wore. I inhaled the fresh air, closing my eyes and allowing myself to feel the clean water flowing over me. I imagined the hell I had endured washing away into a pool of thick black evil, slipping away in one of the many small rivers streaming across the asphalt parking lot I stood in.

  I opened my eyes as a streak of lightning tore across the sky, the brilliant hues of white and blue lighting up the dark clouds rolling overhead. The ground rumbled as a deep roll of thunder reverberated through the earth.

  There was the distinct possibility that I was in the crosshairs of a distant guard who had my head dead in the center of his scope. The gunshot that announced the Professor’s death had to have been heard by anyone nearby in spite of the storm.

  I didn’t really care. I was enjoying the sweet taste of freedom for the first time since snow covered the ground. From Tanya and Jeff’s silence, I believed they felt the same elation. Steeling a glance over my shoulder, I found my new friends locked in an embrace, letting the knowledge that they were no longer trapped in that cage sink in.

  As I looked around the area, I was shocked to see the small municipal building sat completely unguarded and defenseless. I had expected to walk out and face a guard or something. Hell, a pissed off boy scout with a sling shot would have sufficed. But there was nothing. No gates, no hastily thrown together fencing.

  The building itself was very plain, the two story multi tone red brick station butted against a river. It looked as if it was built intentionally to be very non-descript, with the only identifying markings I could see was a small overhang sign reading POLICE in bold white letters.

  Each spot in front of the station was filled, the black and white SUV’s sat like silent sentries. Rain flowed like rivers over the glossy paint, washing away the layers of gore caked on almost every one of the squads.

  The only vehicle that stood out was the hot pink pickup truck parked closest to the doors we had exited. Why the hell anyone would paint a pickup hot pink like that I will never know, but whoever did left his cowboy hat on the dash in front of the steering wheel.

  “Where is everyone?” Jeff said finally, raising his voice to be heard over the sheets of rain.

  “No one else inside either,” I said, wiping water from my face.

  “What did you shoot?” Tanya asked.

  “Jake was there,” I replied coldly, glancing over my shoulder at her. “Now he’s not.”

  “There’s no defenses,” Jeff stated, swiveling his head around in all directions. “Nothing to keep the zombies out. This doesn’t make any sense!”

  “There’s so many buildings, so many homes,” Tanya added. “This place should be crawling with those things. A place this big should have zombies everywhere, probably a good number of survivors too.”

  “I’m starting to get used to the idea of things that don’t make sense being the norm,” I said. “Do those squads say where we are by any chance?”

  “Same as inside,” Jeff answered. “Can’t read anything from the decals. Either painted over or scratched off completely.”

  “What the hell game was he playing?” I exclaimed, tossing my hands up.

  “Maybe in case someone got out, it would keep them disorientated enough to give them time to be recaptured,” Jeff mused.

  “Doing a pretty good job on us,” Tanya added.

  “I’m leaving,” I said abruptly. “I have a family to find, and I don’t want to wait around to find out how shithead’s goons will act when they find out I just perforated his skull. We need to get moving.”

  “These might help,” Jeff said, pulling a wad of keys from his pocket. “Found them by the door. I think they go to these cars,” he finished, thumbing back toward the Ford Interceptor police SUVs parked in front of the station.

  “Not the pink truck,” Tanya said quickly.

  “Took the words out of my mouth,” I said, snatching the keys from Jeff’s hands. I made my way over to the closest squad, trying every key in the pile. My heart leapt as elation washed over me when a key slipped into the lock and spun. With a pop, the door to our final escape opened wide.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask,” I said sheepishly before climbing into the car. “Did you guys want to come with me, or are we saying goodbye?”

  Tanya looked at Jeff, raising an eyebrow at him. He returned the look before they turned their stares to me.


  “I don’t…you know,” I stammered, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to assume. I mean, you don’t have to. But if you do, I’d love the company.”

  “We hadn’t really thought about it,” Jeff said. “I think we just expected we would all stick together.”

  “If that’s okay,” Tanya added. “We lived in Chicago, and that didn’t sound like a good place to go. We really don’t think any of our family survived. We just—”

  “Of course it’s okay!” I interrupted, a true feeling of happiness filling me. “I was really hoping you would. In that case, all aboard. Your chariot awaits.”

  “Just promise no more jokes like that,” Tanya said, smiling as she shook her head.

  “Can’t make that promise!” I replied, climbing into the driver’s seat.

  Though I had spent many hours as a medic inside various emergency vehicles, this one was the most advanced I had ever seen. Despite the fact that the dash mounted computer had been completely ripped out, leaving only the mounting bracket in its place, the amount of buttons and controls made me wonder if this was a squad car or a space shuttle simulator.

  “Cross your fingers,” I said as Jeff slid into the back seat, Tanya following close behind.

  “No one wants shotgun?” I asked the pair through the protective shield between the front and back seat.

  “No offense,” Jeff started. “But it’s been so long since we have been this happy together, we don’t want to be separated by this thing,” he finished, knocking on the thick plastic shield behind my head. I nodded, setting my Glock in the seat next to me and turned my attention to the dashboard.

  Slipping the key into the ignition, I said a small prayer and turned it. Without hesitation, the powerful engine roared to life. Shrill beeps squealed from the radio as the electronics cycled through all their checks before finally settling down, and the only sound left was the engine purring away.

  Through a hail of cheers from all of us, I backed the car out of the space, cutting the wheel hard left until the street came into view. I kicked on the wipers and popped the car into drive. I pressed the gas, and immediately slammed the brakes.

  “Nope!” I said aloud as the visage of a church steeple came into view, it’s white base and black pointed tower reaching high into the sky until it seemed as if the cross affixed to the top scraped against the dark clouds above. “To hell with churches!”

  “No one’s there, just drive by it!” Tanya called up from the back seat.

  “Hell no,” I said, popping the car in reverse and turning the car around in a hasty three point turn. “Very bad experience with churches! No churches, no ambulances!”

  Before anyone could ask what my odd phobias were about, I punched the gas and rocketed away from our personal hell. Following the river, we passed through several residential areas until we found ourselves skirting along the edge of whatever town we were in.

  “No people, no zombies, not even a stray dog,” I said. “What is going on here?”

  “I don’t know, but this is seriously screwed up,” Jeff said, his eyes scanning in all directions.

  “I’m just ready to be done with all this shit!” I snapped, more angry than I intended to sound. “I just want to get back to my family and see my little girl! I have a lot of apologies that are long overdue, and my brother can hold a grudge for a long time!”

  “I think he’ll understand,” Tanya said.

  “Nahh,” I replied, trying to lighten my own mood. “He’ll just say I got kidnapped to have an excuse!”

  “Pretty good excuse,” Jeff added with a laugh.

  “He’d still find flaws in it,” I said, feeling a little bit better. “But that’s Chris. He’d—”

  The roar cut me off mid thought, sending shockwaves of fear through my spine as the sound reverberated off the buildings and through the car. I slowed, probably looking very much like a startled deer with how fast my head was swiveling around.

  “What the hell was that?!” Tanya gasped.

  “What Professor called a mutation,” I answered, setting my foot back on the accelerator. “If there’s a scream, you can guarantee there’s a horde nearby!”

  For a second time my blood ran cold, a distinctly female shriek carried through the waning storm as if it had come from everywhere at once. I sped up in a panic, my eyes darting around in any direction that might hold a horde large enough for two of the things.

  A third joined in, deep and throaty with a growl that sounded more like a lion with laryngitis than something that used to be human.

  “Where the hell are they?!” I gasped, terror sawing through my guts like a dull serrated blade.

  I pushed harder on the accelerator, sending the speedometer beyond sixty, much faster than was safe in the best of conditions. Stealing a quick glance in the rear view, I found the pair returning my stare. Their faces devoid of color, eyes widened and filled with fright. I wasn’t sure if it was the screams of the mutated dead that had them shitting concrete blocks or if it was my driving. So I slowed slightly, watching the relief wash across both of them.

  A field opened up on my left as we rounded a curve. It took a moment for the sight to fully register in my brain, but when it did, I pumped the brakes. Had it not been for the antilock brakes, I may have sent us into a spin that would have cut our escape short before we could even get out of town.

  Several high tension power lines cut across the sky over the field, the hulking metal framework of each support looking like gigantic steel skeletons against the green backdrop of the forests beyond. The electrical supply lines looking like gigantic spider webs, stretching from support to support until breaking off to smaller distribution points throughout the town.

  Zombies encircled the base of a structure planted in the middle of the field, the throng standing at least thirty deep. The air filled with the moans and growls of the ravenous dead, blistered and ashen arms reaching over their heads, swiping at the air above them.

  Four figures appeared to be strapped to the metal structure at least ten feet from the monster’s grasp. Three of them struggled against their bonds, their bodies twisting and turning to break free of whatever held them in place. The fourth sat motionless, its body hanging limp with its head slumped down to its chest.

  I turned my head to open up a discussion with my companions on the extremely foolish notion of a half-assed rescue using our one pistol and an ammo bag full of good intentions when another roar ripped through the waning storm. This time there was no doubt where the sound had come from.

  “That’s how he’s keeping the dead away,” I said to no one in particular. “Kill one of the black-eyes to whip them all into a frenzy, but have enough of the moving ones to keep them at bay.”

  “Dan,” Tanya exhaled in a shocked whisper.

  Looking in the rear view, I noticed the two were staring out toward the field, but not at the throng of dead. I followed their gaze, and nearly vomited when I saw what had the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Amongst the new growth of springtime grass and weeds, sitting in the mud and puddles across the ground, hundreds of piles of clothes stretched far off into the distance. Open suitcases, toys, boxes, almost everything and anything one would imagine carried by those in terror filled flight was strewn haphazardly across the land.

  One clothing pile close to the road caught my attention. White fluffs of insulation poked out from the tiny weather worn green winter coat. Snow pants stuck out from beneath the coat, coming to end at a pair of purple boots adorned with small yellow flowers.

  I swallowed hard when I realized what I was seeing. The decayed skull of a child poked out from beneath, its hollow sockets staring back at us, mouth agape as if locked in an eternal scream. Small bits of flesh stuck to its face, the stained bones bearing evidence of months of wildlife feeding on the remains. A small crack above the orbital bone of the left eye was the only evidence of how the little kid had died.

  Evidence of the massa
cre suddenly appeared in every direction that I looked. Skeletal arms, and fleshless fingers poked out from underneath piles of winter coats, clothing that had become death shrouds for the town’s population.

  “Maybe they were zombies?” Jeff said in a tone that cast heavy doubt that he believed the words that he had spoken aloud.

  “Zombies don’t carry suitcases. The dead don’t have any use for toys or bags of food,” I answered just above a whisper, my stomach threatening to empty itself all over the steering wheel. “This was an execution.”

  “I want to leave,” Tanya cried, salty tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please, take me away from this!”

  “The man who did this is dead,” I said, more to myself than anyone else as I pressed the accelerator again. Slowly, the Interceptor picked up speed, passing by the mass of dead.

  “He didn’t do this alone,” Jeff said, his head lowered, eyes locked on the back of my seat.

  “I don’t care,” I snapped coldly. “I’m done with this. I’m done with anything having to do with that man.” My teeth clenched as the sorrow I felt for those laying in the field changed to anger. “I’m going back to my family. I’m leaving this state, and piss off to anyone who wants to stop me!”

  I stepped on the gas, speeding past another of Professor’s zombie traps as we drove parallel to the high tension wires. A third of his zombie attractors sailed by as we cut away from the side road and onto a state highway, leaving Professor and the hell he had created in the rear view mirror.

  Chapter 41

  We stopped at a small gas station on the side of the road after an hour spent in silence. Though the store was looted of everything that could even be considered food, and refueling was completely out of the question, there was still a stock of paper maps sitting by the register.

  Since the world before Z-Day had gone almost completely digital, I figured the idea of paper maps had gone the way of drive in movie theaters and smoking on airplanes. Imagine my surprise when I found an almost fully stocked rack of maps. There was even a map sitting by the counter with You are here conveniently marked in red ink.