The Living Dead Series (Book 2): World Without End

by L. I. Albemont

  This was exactly what she had feared ever since Brian told her the Potomac River had drained away. They were under the earth, sealed inside this shelter that might very well be her tomb now. Furious she climbed the wall rungs and jabbed at the round hatch with her railing. Nothing budged visibly but a shower of dirt fell to the floor.

  David stood below her. “Okay. At least we know it’s not completely sealed but who knows how much dirt we’re under. We might have to tunnel out once we get the hatch open. The chopper will be here in less than an hour. Gentlemen, let’s get to work.”

  It was a blow torch and manufacturing incompetence that saved the day. There was a defect in the hatch design and a few minutes of heat directed at the surrounding seals melted them enough to allow them to pull the iron pins from the two way hinge. The thick, steel hatch fell to the floor and a fall of dirt from above poured down and buried it immediately. Once it stopped pouring, they climbed back up and dug at it. They finally broke through a layer of concrete and, blessedly, they saw daylight.

  “We have no idea who will be waiting for us up there. The outside monitoring cameras were messed up by the quake and it looks like a section of the fence might be down or at least damaged. I’ll go first.”

  David climbed up and disappeared from view. After a moment he shouted down an all clear. The soldiers picked up their gear and ascended. Bea climbed up last.

  The sound was even more painful out here. She was the only one with earplugs and even after she stuffed those in her ears, she felt nauseated from the sound. Even so, she was happy to be out here rather than underground. The snow still lay in drifts but the almost setting sun cast a welcome warm light on everything and the air, although a little smoke-filled, was fresher.

  She had never seen the compound by daylight before. Rolling fences with razor wire blocked off an area about half the size of a football field. The depression on the South Lawn where they entered the shelter on the first night was outside the fencing and seethed with infected. The White House was outside the fencing too, and it looked as if the central Executive Residence had burned to the ground. Smoke still rose from the charred rubble. Vast numbers of dead roamed among the ruins but none had made it through the compound fence, which was twisted and bowed in one section but still holding.

  A helicopter appeared in the distance, growing visibly larger as it approached. The soldiers shouted something about a Kestral and they seemed pleased.

  Bea had never been this close to a helicopter before and the size of it surprised her. It was enormous and at first she thought it wouldn’t have enough room to land but it did, easily. Painted a neutral green that was not exactly camouflage it looked like an enormous insect.

  “Is this Marine One?” Bea shouted to David.

  “No. It would be if the president were on board. Whatever helicopter the president is on is automatically designated Marine One no matter the type. Quantico maintains an entire fleet of potential Marine Ones.”

  There were already two passengers inside in addition to the pilot. One was a soldier but the other was a civilian, shivering in wet clothes and wrapped in a blanket. The soldier, holding his rifle ready, climbed out and scanned the area while motioning them inside. The soldiers boarded first.

  At first she didn’t understand what was happening. Bea felt the ground moving beneath her feet, unbalancing her. She dropped to one knee and fought to keep from falling into the enormous crack that had just appeared in the lawn in front of her. The damaged section of the fence surrounding the compound swayed before it fell flat and the dead, already excited by the sound of the helicopter, surged forward.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Kestral, unbalanced now and sitting directly on the gaping fissure in the earth, tilted abruptly to one side. The rotating blades of the main rotor came within a few feet of hitting dirt. The pilot immediately took the chopper up away from the now treacherous ground, the soldier with the rifle leaping in at the last second. The helicopter continued to rise but the pilot had trouble correcting the tilt and it flew lopsided and off-balance, the tail higher than the body. The entire machine began to spin.

  Bea and David could only watch as the pilot tried to pull out of the death spiral. The helicopter barely cleared the fence section still standing before it crashed into the West Wing. Black smoke billowed from the tail section. Two figures crawled from the wreckage but the dead came for them immediately. Gunfire rang out but there were just too many infected. David thought he heard screams before he lost sight of the struggling soldiers.

  He turned. Although most of the dead were attracted to the noise from the crash they would notice the two of them soon enough. Going back down into the shelter was not an option. It had sunk so deeply into the riven earth it was not even visible. They had to find a way out.

  Bea grabbed his shoulder and pointed in the direction of the Tidal Basin. There was a gap in the crowd there and they might get around the dead that way. He nodded and they sprinted toward the gap, evading the few dead that noticed them. Most of the LRADs seemed to have survived the quake and still emitted their painfully loud pulse all around them. Lungs burning and hearts racing they arrived at the Tidal Basin.

  It was empty, drained like the Potomac. The thousands of graceful cherry trees surrounding it now spread their delicate, bare branches over a huge pit of mud and rocks. A multitude of maimed, moaning creatures groped and slithered through the ooze.

  Near their feet one of them came crawling up out of the mud. Slimy and slick its face was mostly eaten away but it shambled forward on jiggling, water-swollen legs and reached for them with bloated arms. Bea lifted her iron rail and was poised to strike when the thing lurched past her, continuing on toward the Mall area.

  They looked around. Several more climbed up and slogged on. The pulsing of the LRADs must be attracting them in a way the slighter sounds humans made could not. The smell that rose from them was so strong it clogged their throats.

  Trudging under the cherry trees they walked past shuttered vendor stands and eventually came to the Jefferson Memorial. A slightly tilted, bronze Jefferson gazed out serenely over the devastated city. One of the LRADs, resembling a black, satellite dish, pulsed from atop the cracked and crooked marble steps.

  The memorial was open to the elements and really wasn’t a good place to spend the night. Inside they saw that the dome ceiling had shattered, raining down large chunks of marble. Bea walked right up to the LRAD and pulled the cables attaching it to its battery. The sound stopped and she sat down on the steps and dropped her head on her arms. Would it do any good to keep trying? She couldn’t think of a way to escape the city. That helicopter had been their last chance. Behind them thousands of infected crawled through the mud-filled Potomac, called here by the cannons. They had difficulty negotiating the mud-slick banks but eventually they would make it up. They never quit.

  David walked behind the building and found a surprise. A vehicle, one of the Polaris ranger series used to bring in the paddle boats so popular in the spring with tourists, was parked near the bank with the keys in the ignition. It was small though not as narrow as a motorcycle and had an abbreviated truck bed in the back. It might get them through the congested streets better than a car or truck. He climbed in and started the engine, pulling it around to the front steps. Bea raised her head and laughed at the sight of him on the funny-looking little vehicle.

  “You know there’s no way we’re going to make it out of here.”

  “I’m not sure I agree. We have transportation now and as long as those sound cannons keep those things hypnotized we should be okay.”

  “I was hoping for something with a little more style. Also, we’ll probably get some unfriendly hop-ons.”

  “I’ll drive if you’ll deal with the hop-ons.”

  “How fast do these things go?” She walked over and circled the vehicle, kicked the tires.

  “Let’s find out.” He extended a hand and she climbed in.

  Their progres
s was dream-like. To their amazement the dead were still so focused on the rhythmic pulse coming from the city that most never even turned their way or noticed their passing. A few of the really close ones reached for them but didn’t follow. It was almost as if they were invisible in the midst of a mass migration of shambling, mutilated bodies. Smoke drifted around them, obscuring their view and forcing them to creep. They wove slowly through abandoned vehicles, flinching every time one of the dead got too close. They seemed to go for miles like this and it wasn’t until the LRADs began to fade, around the time they were close to Fairfax, that they encountered any real problems.

  Here the dead were sparser but they definitely noticed them and Bea and David had to speed up. Fortunately there were fewer cars on the road here. The top speed the little vehicle could manage was forty-four mph. That had been fine when weaving through wreckage but they had to find something else and soon.

  Bea pulled her earplugs out and rubbed her ears. She was so cold. The uniform jacket she wore was sturdy but not warm. The roads out here were passable and it was time to steal a car with a heater. To her left she saw a pancake house and her stomach rumbled. When had they last eaten?

  David said, “Are you seeing what I am?”

  She nodded, thinking she hadn’t known he was a pancake enthusiast. They were her personal weakness, buckwheat, blueberry, those wonderful pumpkin ones they did for Halloween, she loved them all. Add a little bacon on the side and she was in breakfast heaven.

  “David, I doubt they’re open.”

  “That’s the point. I don’t think we would get far if they were.” He turned left, drove past the pancake house and pulled up to a Volvo dealership she hadn’t noticed. Oh, no pancakes after all.

  They didn’t waste time. David crashed the ranger through the showroom window and left it there, blocking the gap. They couldn’t find the keys for the new cars but the service department key rack yielded access to an almost new S60 with a full tank.

  “Let’s hope that whatever service this thing was in for has already been done. You know, I wanted an SUV. The snow can get pretty deep in West Virginia and it’s mountainous.” David was disappointed.

  “The beauty of being a car thief is that you can always steal another car when you find one you like. Or you can try anyway.”

  The service parking lot was fenced in and the gate locked and chained. A cluster of infected, drawn by all the noise they made, pressed against the chain link. David rammed the gate but it didn’t budge. The crowd grew even more excited.

  Bea searched the service area for something to cut the chains but found nothing. None of the keys on the rack worked and she took them back inside. Still cold she took a black, leather, bomber-style jacket hanging from a hook and donned it. It was so big the waist fell almost to her knees and she had to roll the sleeves up. Outside, David was trying to remove the pins from the gate hinges. He looked over.

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing.” She affirmed.

  “Nice jacket. You couldn’t find a bigger one?”

  “Thanks and no, I couldn’t. This was the biggest one in there. Now if I could just find some jeans somewhere I’d be all-” She felt a set of keys in the jacket pocket and pulled them out.

  “Let’s try these.”

  The first key they tried fit and they unwrapped the chain and threw it aside. The dead poured in like filthy water down a gutter before they could get back in the car. A little boy, one arm missing, latched on to David, biting and scratching at him. David finally shook him off but wound up smashing his head when he slammed the car door shut. The gore splashed across his legs and onto the seat. David punched the gas pedal and they roared out of the parking lot, skidding a little before the tires found traction.

  Abandoned cars, many with dead, still writhing occupants, littered I-66. They made it around the blockages and just over an hour later were approaching I-81 but they still had a long way to go. Bea had told Brian she would be there in six or seven hours but it was probably going to be longer even if they didn’t run into any obstacles. Brian would be worried and she had no idea who was watching out for him. She could only hope that Ian or Virginia had explained the situation to someone at the Bluefield landing area and Brian wasn’t alone.

  The engine of their stolen car had a raspy purr and accelerated nicely. They occasionally reached speeds of 50 or better but the road was far from clear. Infected were present though much fewer in number. Though they searched, there was little on the car radio but static. For a few miles the AM band yielded a man reading from the book of Revelation and crying but that faded out soon.

  David said, “You know, this has been a lot smoother than I expected. I thought we would get tangled up in wreckage and be on foot long before we got out of the city.”

  “I didn’t expect to get out at all once the helicopter crashed. By the time we reached the Jefferson Memorial I was pretty sure I was going to die. Just the numbers of the infected were shocking. I still see the bed of the Potomac full of those floundering things when I close my eyes. I’m glad Brian didn’t have to see that.” She shuddered a little.

  “You guys will have to be wary around strangers. Some rough types are going to take advantage of the chaos. Even normal people will do things during desperate times they normally wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t worry. Neither of us will forget that couple and their daughter anytime soon. Still, there must be plenty of ‘good guys’ out here somewhere.” She continued, “I wish we could have done this during daylight. I’d like to see what the situation is around here since it’s more rural. The power is out, obviously, but I’d like to see some smoke coming from chimneys or maybe even some people out and about. This is the farthest west I’ve ever been. I used to think that someday Brian and I would drive across the country sightseeing. He likes to read about the Plains Indians. The Anasazi too.”

  “I remember learning about Lewis and Clark in school and wondering what it would be like to be an explorer.”

  Bea smiled. “Exhausting and dangerous. Did you know one of the most important considerations on that trip was the amount of whisky they could carry with them? They couldn’t haul enough to last the entire journey but it had to get them past ‘the point of no return.’ If they ran out while the men could still easily trek back to civilization they would often desert.”

  “I didn’t know Thomas Jefferson sent out a group of alcoholics to map the continent.”

  “They weren’t. Not really. But they had the usual human complaints of toothache and arthritis. Some even had active cases of venereal disease and with no antibiotics or even aspirin they tended to dull the pain with whiskey when they could.”

  Without warning David stomped the brakes hard and the car went sideways briefly before skidding to a stop. At first neither of them could quite comprehend what lay in front of them, completely blocking both the north and southbound lanes.

  A jet, great, curving sheets of smoke-blackened metal twisted and sundered, rose up before them, looking alien in this setting where it was never intended to be. The car headlights shone directly on the fuselage which tilted to one side bringing the windows closer to the ground. One wing was gone and the other had dug a deep trench in the asphalt of the highway.

  They got out of the car and peered inside looking for signs of survivors. They saw none until they reached the cockpit and tapped on the glass. Within seconds a form slammed against the forward glass so hard it rattled. Once started it never ceased and soon dark streaks of something, possibly decaying brain matter, splattered the glass. They walked away as it was obvious there was no one here in need of rescue.

  There was no way around the jet without leaving the road. Bea drove while David walked in front guiding her and they cautiously crept forward, across a deep dip in the median and then off the road over to an exit ramp. David got back in and they drove to the top of the ramp, preparing to exit back on the other side when Bea noticed something.

  An outlet mall, o
ne of those sprawling shopping areas that beckon travelers with “Factory Direct Discount Prices!” spread out on their right. She looked down at her baggy, sweat-smelling jacket and the camouflage pants with mud and blood stains on them.

  “David, that’s a gas station over there, right? Do you know if there’s a way to get gas out of the pumps if they don’t have electricity?”

  “The old pumps maybe but not one this new. It would be nice to fill up, though. I see something that we might be able to use. Pull over near that old flatbed Ford.”

  David found a hose behind the truck seat and started siphoning gas from the truck into the Volvo. No one was around, living or dead and he broke into the station mini-mart and loaded up on bottled water and snack food as well as the flashlights and batteries Bea requested.

  Bea waited outside, keeping watch the best she could in the darkness. David returned and dumped his stolen swag in the back seat. Bea put batteries in the flashlights and put one in the glove box, keeping the other one on the seat beside her.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Not quite. We have a little more shopping to do.” She drove slowly across the overpass and into the outlet mall parking lot. David smacked his forehead exasperatedly.

  She parked almost on the sidewalk. “Just be quiet and follow me. I need someone to help carry things. It won’t take long.”

  Nothing here appeared to have been looted. She threw a garbage can through the window of a Bass shoe store and grabbed boxes of leather shoes and boots with several pairs for Brian in assorted sizes. Next they hit a Levi’s store and Bea shed her camouflage for a much better fitting pair of stone-washed denim and loaded up on others, again in assorted sizes for Brian as well as an armload of shirts and sweaters. She found underwear of all types courtesy of Hanes and finally Eddie Bauer provided them with several parkas and vests. They loaded the car and the whole expedition took less than forty-five minutes.