by James Master
“Alright, we move on after you’re both finished.” John finished a moment later, leaving his trash on the floor where he had been.
“Roland, where are we going now? No zombies talking now.” Roland looked around and pointed at the floor. “See those bloody prints on the floor? There are four sizes. The two larger ones are yours and mine. The smaller is obviously Ashley's. The middle size pair belongs to Starke. We simply follow the pair when we leave. The trail will end eventually, but until then that is our best shot.”
When Ashley finished her meal the three left the burger joint Roland in the lead again. He surveyed the ground looking for Starke's bloody shoe prints. John was watching out for any zombies. Unlike the men, Ashley was the only one to notice the bed sheet hanging from the window of the apartment complex across the street.
“Roland, Starke is heading for Indianapolis.”
Roland laughed. “What makes you think that? Did you dream of that also?” John followed her line of sight and read the message aloud. “Roland, if you want your brother's gun, you'll find it in the capital. Your friend, Gary Starke.” Roland stopped and looked to where the two were staring at. “Son of a bitch. He's taunting us.” Ashley nodded. John shook his head. “I hate that place. Why go there?”
Roland looked at John and Ashley. “Because that is where he wants us to go. For some reason, that is where our story will end. One way or another.”
Chapter Eight
*** 1 ***
Having stopped off at a gas station, Roland and crew had enough gas to make it to the capital. They had given up on tracking Starke mostly because there was hardly a trail and Roland thought Starke wanted them to play his little game.
John was in the front seat of the vehicle they had 'acquired' in Walkerton. He let out a long whistle as they approached saying, “Wow, never thought I would be riding in one of these babies. How much did you pay for this thing?”
Roland laughed and shook his head. “Nothing, owner didn't have a further use for it so I decided to take it off his hands.” John got the hint and chuckled, opening the door for Ashley. She started to protest, but John said, “If we need to get out on short notice, it's easier for you to get out from back there.” She saw the logic and gave up. When they were all in, they drove around the city of Rochester taking State Road 25 connecting with State Road 31, hoping never to come back to the dead city.
Roland tried the local radio stations, but heard only static. He tried the talk am stations, still getting more static. Not a good sign in Roland's opinion. Circling the town proved to be longer than any of them had thought. The evacuees of the town had the same thought as Roland: Take the side roads instead of the straight path. Many times they had to drive off roads to avoid the one road pile ups. It was half a day before they were back on State Road 31. The road would take them past the cities of Manchester, Oxford, Terre Haute, Kokomo, then finally their destination Indianapolis. Whatever reason Starke wanted them there for was beyond Roland's reasoning.
John opened one of the nutritional bars they had raided from the mall and started chewing on it for a good minute before forcing it down his throat. He rolled down the window of the bird and let out a breath as the wind hit his face. It was still getting warmer in Indiana and the car was stuffy. Roland did the same, exchanging a relieved look from Ashley. “Thanks, guys, it was getting humid in here. Why is it so hot?” John chuckled remembering the Gore joke. Roland smiled but didn't elaborate.
Instead, he took his handkerchief and wiped his brow. Ashley poked her head out between the seats and asked, “So, is this what we are going to do for the next four hours just sit in a car and sweat?” Roland shook his head. “Nope, we will be doing this for more like one to two days if John drives while I sleep.”
Ashley let out an angry humph, “What do you mean? My mom and I went on a trip to the mall in downtown Indy and it only took us four hours from Walkerton. Why so long?” Roland looked over at John and grimaced.
“Because we literally are going to get stuck in the traffic jam from hell.” Pulling the water bottle that was sitting in the driver side cup holder he unscrewed the cap with one hand and took a long pull before replacing the cap and setting it back into the cup holder. “That tastes good. Anyway, remember the traffic jam we encountered trying to get around Indy? Well, imagine something like that but only larger and filled with more of the undead than previously seen. We also should 'acquire' a better vehicle for city travel. A Hummer or a more durable transport would do the trick, something that the zombies wouldn’t be able to flip.”
They were driving down state road when they all saw signs of a major crash. Roland slowed down and both John and Ashley readied their weapons. Ashley gripped Roland's M1 Garand and John pulled out his sawed off shotgun. Roland noticed the rifle and told Ashley not to use the rifle.
“Why not? I know how to use it.” Roland rebuked, “Sure when we are in the open, but we're not. We are in a two-door car that does not have the mobility when you want to aim an M1 Garand. John, will you hand her your pistol?” John said he would, handing her his unused .38 snub-nosed six shot.
When they got closer, Roland prepared them for battle. “Now remember, don’t shoot unless we are stopped by zombies. If the undead are so overwhelming that we have to abandon the car, don't try to grab everything. Just grab a weapon and get out. Don't try fighting them because there will be too many. Just run. Try to stay together if able. If not, then lead the zombies away and we will try to regroup at the car when they are gone. John, you cover your side, Ashley you cover mine. Don't shoot if we can get through without any difficulty. Agreed?” Both of them were ready by the time they approached the wreckage.
It was a school bus and an oil tanker that had collided with each other. The resulting explosion and wreckage prevented many cars to get stuck behind them. When Roland tried to drive off road, he noticed that other vehicles had had the same idea. Many were still there; making it look to Roland like it was a wall of cars. There was no way on his left so he backed up and tried to the right of the barrier. To Roland's dismay, there were, even more, cars piled up on the right side of the four-lane state road. Roland backed up and put the car in park.
John looked at Roland and sighed. “Road is clogged up tighter than a fat man's arteries. How are gonna get across. You know that if you take this bird down into the trench there at the side of the road it's bound to get stuck,” patting the outside of the door, “courtesy to its nice long body.”
Unbuckling his seat belt he put the car into reverse and backed up about fifty feet. Putting the car in park he turned it off. “Alright, let's pack up and leave.” John and Ashley both looked at Roland like he was some sort of crazy. Roland adjusted his hunting hat and wiped his brow again. “I know, alright, it sounds crazy. John is right, if we try to off road with this beauty of a car, it'll just get stuck and then we'll be in real trouble. There is bound to be a better car on the other side of the wreckage. We just get around on foot, then hot wire it and are on our way.” They got out of the car and strapped their packs on.
When they were set, Roland stopped them. “I should probably explain about dealing with car zombies.” Ashley looked around at the wreckage. She turned and asked Roland. “Car zombies, what are they like cars that turn when their gas is infected?” She started to giggle at the thought. “Do you have to kill them with a bullet to the engine?”
Roland simply stared at Ashley until she stopped laughing. Getting her laughing under control she looked at Roland and saw the seriousness on his face. “Sorry, please explain what they are.” John shook his head, a smile on his face despite Roland's sour mood.
“Car zombies are people that turn while still in their car. Be careful when passing a car with one in it. I can see someone passing a car not noticing a zombie in it, or even better thinking it to be safe. When the person is grabbed by the thing and is stuck as the undead get closer, they won't find that too funny. Also, before getting into a car, check the backseat
and also underneath the car. Also be wary of zombie children in car seats. They may be strapped in, but they are still dangerous.” They began walking towards the oil tanker/ school bus crash when John piped up. “You know Roland; you could be a teacher of Zombie studies. Better yet, Undead 101: How to survive the Zombipocalypse.”
Ashley didn't laugh, she thought it funny and true. Roland however replied. “Please try and stay quiet, we don't know if they are in the wreckage or not.”
Roland led the trio through the wreckage with Ashley in between, John picking up the rear. Roland squeezed between the bumpers of the two burnt out vehicles. He saw a long line of cars that stretched maybe ten cars on each side of the road. Roland let out a groan; he hadn't expected it to be this bad. He waited till Ashley and John fit through. He saw the disappointment in both of their eyes. They both looked at Roland who looked back at them and shrugged. “Be careful while getting across, we'll go to the right instead of up the middle. Don't get too close to the cars themselves. We'll take one of them at the back. Ashley, it's important that you get there as soon as possible because you are carrying the gasoline. Alright, let's go.” He whispered his plan and started to move to the right shoulder of the road.
They were maybe three cars down when they saw the first of the undead. Roland stopped and turned back to the group. He whispered again. “Okay, we run the rest of the way. When we get to the last car, John I want you to cover me while I clear the car and hotwire it. Ashley, when they car is cleared, get in the back and cover John from the back seat. Once the first shot is fired, they will come out of the woodwork like roaches, but don't fire until I do.”
They crept on the zombie until they were five feet away. Roland pulled out his revolver and fired at the thing sending it down to the ground. When it hit the ground it tumbled down the shoulder and stopped at the bottom of the ditch.
When Ashley heard the first shot, she started running like a deer, jumping over bits of debris, dodging open car doors. She breezed past three zombies as they turned towards the sound of the shot. Roland was surprised to see Ashley was so quick. He started jogging after Ashley aiming at the next zombie. John, not as fast compared to either of them, started huffing when he reached the fifth car. After the fifth, he slowed down to a fast walk caused by his leg cramping. Roland noticed this and yelled just as John was grabbed by a zombie in car number six. John let out a yell himself and angled his sawed off, firing at the things head. Its explosion made John think of the movie Pulp Fiction. It took a moment to shake the grip from the arm of his shirt.
John was again grabbed and pulled away from the car by another zombie, this one not strapped in by a seatbelt. John, in his weary state, fell down on his back, yanking the thing down on top of him. Its mouth came an inch from his own when Roland put one in its brain. John shoved it off and quickly stood.
“C'mon John, there’s only three more cars left!” Roland aimed at another zombie and fired, dropping it to the ground. Roland turned and jogged past number eight. Ashley was already at the last car, a nineteen ninety-three Ford Taurus. She looked through the door, already opened, seeing no zombies, she checked the back seat seeing none as well.
John cleared number nine and saw that Roland had already started to hot wire the car. He turned and saw another zombie running at him. He spent his second shell and blasted the things head off. He dug in his pockets for more shells while opening the chamber of the sawed off. Shaking the old shells out, he replaced them with fresh ones just in time to close it and blew another undead head off. He heard the car roar to life and ran around the trunk and ripped off his pack. Roland closed his door and then opened the passenger door, taking John’s pack. John was about to get in when he was pulled down to the ground. A legless zombie had crawled under the Taurus and yanked the exhausted man off his feet. John let out a yell as he fell. Ashley screamed and opened her door, but John's body had blocked the door from fully opening. Probably for the best, since the zombie was underneath Ashley's door.
The zombie bit John on his leg, right above the kneecap. This time John didn't cry out, he just ripped himself out of the zombie's hold and fired at its head. John heard the roar of the shotgun, saw the head burst like a watermelon getting hit by a hammer, but it was if he was in a dream. Everything slowed as he felt Roland pulling him up and shoving him into the car. He passed out while Roland was backing up, thinking for a moment that they hit one of those damn speed bumps, but then thought that it was just the zombie that had bitten him.
*** 2 ***
They stopped a half an hour later when Roland thought it was safe. He didn't turn the engine off, only put it in park. Walking around the car, he opened John's side as saw the inside of the door was smeared with John’s blood. He swore and took the handkerchief from his neck. Kneeling, he told Ashley to cover him as he looked at John's wound. It was bad, even if it wasn't a zombie that did it. Roland tied the handkerchief around the leg in an attempt to stop the blood flow. He stood, closed the door and walked to the trunk. Sitting on it, he beckoned Ashley to do the same. She opened the door and sat next to her companion. They shared a water bottle in silence. Roland looked down swearing under his breath. Ashley spoke first, quietly as if not to talk too loud less she woke John up.
“John’s infected.” Roland noticed that she had said it as a matter of fact, not as a question.
Roland nodded his head slowly. It was Ashley's time to swear under her breath. She crossed her tanned legs until each foot rested on the opposite kneecap.
“So, how long does he have till he turns?”
“I don’t know, there isn’t a certain time frame when someone gets infected. When he dies, it’ll probably only take a minute or two for his body to reanimate.” Ashley started to tear up, using her sleeveless shirt to wipe away her tears. “When he dies? Doesn't the infection kill him?” Roland shook his head. “That’s a common misconception in modern day zombie movies. The infection is like AIDS. When you get infected with AIDS, it isn't the virus that kills you; it just weakens your immune system. A common cold could kill you, the same thing with our virus. Bleeding out from the bite is the most common way one dies.”
Ashley stared at Roland suspiciously. “Roland, I never asked how you know so much about the zombies. Mainly because there wasn't a good time to ask, but I remember that you mentioned that your father had seen them in world war two. I just thought that was the case, but know I'm...” They heard a stirring in the front seat and turned, weapons raised. John's stuck out one hand waving the weapons off.
He coughed and laughed at the same time, “So, am I a zombie yet? I don't feel that hungry. For flesh anyway, could probably go for a Pop-Tart right about now. I only eat the brown sugar cinnamon non-frosted kind.” Roland slid off the trunk and started to walk to the driver door when Ashley gripped his arm.
“I want answers. You should be able to trust me at this point.” Roland's eyes went from John in the front seat to Ashley's face, not a foot away. “Alright you’ll get some answers, but not now. Later, I promise.” Ashley let go and slid off the trunk. They both returned to their seats and started down the road in awkward silence.
*** 3 ***
It was nighttime when Roland pulled over on the shoulder of the road. The Taurus's needle on the gas gauge slowly crept past the E. Roland killed the engine and looked around where he parked. The unusually warm air blasted his face when he manually rolled down the windows. He had been forced to turn on the air conditioner due to the humid weather outside. Ashley had fallen asleep on the drive, but now she was alert and awake, puzzled why they had stopped. Roland looked over to John and was relieved yet saddened to see the man was still out like a light. He had fallen unconscious soon after they started. Roland thought he would never leave the car alive. Roland left the car and quietly walked over to the trunk. He remembered when he went to get the keys that the car trunk had to open from the inside. He heard a pop and saw that the trunk had opened.
Ashley slipped out of the driver's
side passenger door and watched as Roland filled the tank with unleaded. He placed the nearly empty gas can back in the trunk shutting it gently, so as not to wake John. Ashley nimbly sat on the back of the car, letting her feet kick the hard rubber of the tire. Roland sat down on the ground to the left of Ashley's kicking feet. Ashley looked down at Roland's head, seeing a small bald spot starting to appear. Roland let out a sigh and pulled out another water bottle. Ashley thought about where he possibly could be hiding them, he always seems to have them handy, she thought.
Roland sighed, clearing his throat he spoke. “It was the family business. My father was a medical doctor before the war. During the war, however, he discovered the zombies.”
“My family is complicated. My mother died when Eddie and I were just kids. My father wasn’t very good at being a dad; he was too obsessed with his work. He was so obsessed with it that he pressured us into following in his footsteps. To become scientists ourselves.”
“I thought you said you were a teacher?” Ashley asked.
“That’s because when I was in college, my father and I had a sort of falling out and I changed my major,” Roland said.
“What happened? The falling out, I mean,” Ashley said.
“He told me about his work and why he’d been so obsessed with it.” Roland then began to tell Ashley the origin of his father’s work.
“It was my second year in med school and I went home for Thanksgiving. We had the short, awkward dinner we always had year after year. Afterward, my father took me and Eddie into his office. He poured some brandy for each of us. I thought it odd because Eddie was still a minor and my father was a strict letter of the law type of man.
He explained to us that when he was a medic in the army, his unit encountered a concentration camp in Germany. They had liberated it during the last few days of the war. He said that when they entered the camp, the prisoners didn’t welcome them like they had in previous camps.”
