by Perrin Briar
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A CLAN OF ZOMBIES turned to look at them as they passed. Their heads turned to one side, like puppies at an interesting sound. They walked toward the group. Not fast or aggressive, but with curiosity. In any case, it was dangerous.
“Stand still,” Dana said.
She, Hugo and Poo Poo Head crowded around Debbie to disguise her living stink from the undead. Perhaps they could cloak her with their scent, or whatever it was that made them different.
Debbie was the only one among them who was not—as far as they knew—Resistant. Poo Poo Head, despite his obvious bite wound, was still not a certainty. But he didn’t know the location of the safe house. He was expendable.
The undead sniffed them each, one by one. The stink of the undead clogged up Dana’s nose. Their ruined noses snorted, a thick green-brown liquid oozing from their torn nostrils. Dana could hardly breathe, needing to turn her head to the side to avoid it.
Poo Poo Head would turn out to be the weak link, Dana knew. He did not understand their predicament. He raised his shoulder to block their approach. He whined under his breath, afraid. The lead undead opened his mouth wide like he was preparing to bite him. Any second, Poo Poo Head was going to make a break for it. That would spell his doom.
The whine was garnering a lot of attention from the undead. And yet, despite Dana’s expectations, Poo Poo Head held his ground. He never made another sound nor movement.
Debbie made herself as small as she could, shrinking between the three of them. The undead weren’t finished yet, and pushed at them, attempting to get to the succulent center. Poo Poo Head was the weak link. As a kid, he couldn’t hold to hold the zombies back.
Hugo wanted to speak but didn’t want to give them away. Dana locked eyes with him. Meaning passed between them that could only come with time spent together. She nodded. They leaped back.
They grabbed the undead by the shirt collars and pulled them back. They stabbed them through the eyes before following swiftly with violent strikes to the back of their necks. With just Poo Poo Head left to take the brunt of the undeads’ attention, they pushed past him with ease and bore down on Debbie.
Debbie screamed, eyes wide and fearful, and fell back on her ass in her attempt to escape these monsters. Any doubt of her being a living, breathing person was well and truly gone.
Dana and Hugo had grenades and other powerful weapons at their disposal. They were going to be very loud and get the attention of any undead in the vicinity. They would need to be careful if they wanted to get away.
In truth, Dana didn’t care if the old toad did get eaten alive. It was what she deserved. But with her went their one chance of swiftly finding somewhere safe to hole up.
Dana bellowed, Hugo swiftly following. The undead paused, turning to look up at this new meal that had so graciously presented itself to them. Dana took out the first zombie. Its eye sockets were already empty. There was no easy target in its skull. She spun around, bringing her machete to kiss its neck. It hit the ground but did not stop convulsing until she brought the blade down two more times.
Hugo was on the second undead, mimicking Dana’s own strategy. He tore open the creature’s throat. Its head fell forward, but it otherwise hadn’t taken any notice. He finished it off with a vicious swipe across the back of the neck.
Dana took to the next zombie, and the next, yelling bloody murder at the top of her voice. Debbie was screaming her lungs out. Dana feared they were already too late. One bite and Debbie was as good as dead.
The last zombie fell, revealing Debbie lying on the ground. Blood stained her dress from a monster sprawled between her legs. Hugo had cut it down.
“Are you hurt?” Hugo said. “Are you hurt?”
Debbie was in shock, peering around at herself. She didn’t know the answer. She got to her feet and stretched her arms and legs, checking for injuries.
“She’s not hurt,” Dana said.
Her relief turned cold as ice.
“Then why was she screaming?” she said. “Doesn’t she know her screams attract them? Making our job ten times more difficult?”
Hugo took off his shirt and wrapped it around Debbie’s shoulders. The old woman shrugged in an attempt to refuse it, but Hugo restrained her.
“It’s for your own good,” he said.
“What’s the good of that?” Dana said.
“Maybe it’ll give her some protection,” Hugo said.
“Your stink would keep everyone at bay,” Dana said. “Come on. We’re wasting daylight.”
They continued down the street, heading deeper into the city. They left the murder scene behind. They stopped every so often to check on Debbie, who pointed with a crooked finger in which direction they ought to go.
They turned a corner and were faced with a street packed with the monsters. They froze, watching to see if the creatures had seen them. Evidently, they hadn’t, as they continued shuffling in small circles. Dana and the others turned back around the corner.
“Looks like we’re going to have to take a little detour,” Dana said.
They turned and headed back, proceeding down the street that ran parallel to the one infested with undead.
There were few places without undead in the city now. They kept Debbie on one side, disguising her uninfected stench. They moved slowly so as not to garner more attention than necessary. Those that were more curious than the others, who sidled up close to Dana or Hugo, quickly paid the price with a stab in the eye.
The rest of the undead left them untouched. It was while they were walking down one of these streets that a pair of undead heads exploded.
The group dove to one side and hid behind a pair of trash cans.
“What was that?” Dana said.
“Snipers,” Hugo said.
“Snipers?” Dana said. “Where?”
Hugo raised his head over a trash can. Then lowered his head back down.
“On top of the tall building at the intersection,” he said.
Dana raised her head too and peered at the building Hugo had pointed out.
“How can you see them?” she said. “I can’t make them out at all.”
As Hugo wore thick glasses, Dana could not bring herself to believe he could see better than she.
“I can’t see them,” Hugo said.
“Then how do you know they’re there?” Dana said.
“Because it’s the most obvious position to camp,” Hugo said. “From there they would have a clear sightline over the entire city.”
Dana checked over the trash cans again. Hugo was right. She was familiar with the area and knew it was perched on an intersection in the heart of the business district.
“At the intersection where we need to go,” Dana said. “Of course it is.”
Poo Poo Head whined under his breath, tears running down his face.
“What’s wrong with him?” Dana said.
“He’s upset,” Hugo said. “He doesn’t like seeing heads explode.”
“That makes two of us,” Dana said. “But I’m not crying about it.”
“He’s not like other kids,” Hugo said. “He can’t express himself.”
Debbie grabbed two fistfuls of her grey wire-like hair.
“Now what do we do?” she said. “If we walk out there they shoot us!”
“Thanks for spelling out the obvious,” Dana said.
“It’s all right,” Hugo said. “They’re shooting zombies.”
“What do you think they’ll do when they see us?” Dana said. “In case you forgot, we’re infected and look just like them!”
“We don’t have to head toward them,” Hugo said. “We can go around. That’s the smart move.”
“Smart, but time-consuming,” Dana said.
But what other choice did they have? They turned back the way they had come and approached the next intersection. They hung a right and then proceeded down several blocks. They continued in that direction until Hugo felt confident they
were out of range of the sharpshooters. He turned right onto another street. Finally, they were on their way.
Hugo came to a stop.
“Don’t make a sound,” Hugo said.
Dana had no intention of doing anything so stupid as that. In front of them was yet another huge herd of undead.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
THEY CREPT BACK around the corner and came to a stop. The herd was again standing on the spot, turning in tight circles. They evidently didn’t know where to go nor what to do. Without stimulation, they would stay there forever.
“Where are there so many herds like this?” Dana said.
“It’s an entire city, having turned undead,” Hugo said. “What did you think it would be like?”
“There’s no way we can pass them without them noticing Debbie,” Dana said, ignoring Hugo’s sass.
“We can’t go back the way we came either,” Hugo said. “The snipers will pick us off.”
“Not so much picking us off, as shooting fish in a barrel,” Dana said.
Then Dana lowered her voice, and pointedly did not look in Debbie’s direction.
“There is an easy solution to all this,” Dana said.
“What?” Hugo said.
“We leave the one member of our team behind who could attract the undead’s attention,” Dana said.
Hugo glanced at Debbie and then turned away.
“We won’t know where the safe house is,” he said.
“We’ll be a lot safer without her with us here,” Dana said. “Then, we can find our own safe location anyway.”
Hugo thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head lightly.
“No,” he said. “The house Debbie describes is exactly what we’re looking for.”
“Assuming it’s real,” Dana said.
“If it’s not, we can dump her,” Hugo said. “But until then, we stick with our agreement.”
Dana screwed up her face. She didn’t need to stay with anyone. But there were things Hugo knew, things she hadn’t expected him to know, that would prove very useful for her and her own survival. Things like weapons, and where the snipers were camped. Useful, for now.
“Then what do you suggest?” Dana said. “We’re never going to get out of this situation if we don’t do something.”
“We could spend the night in one of the buildings here,” Hugo said. “Wait for them to pass.”
“Do they look like they’re rushing to get somewhere to you?” Dana said. “They’re turning in circles! And what if they come into the building after us? There will be no escape.”
“Then how about we retreat to the hospital?” Hugo said. “It’s not too late to go back.”
“Yes, it is,” Dana said. “I’m not going back there. It’s onward and upward.”
They were silent a moment. Deep in thought.
“I’ve got an idea,” Dana said.
She stepped into the road, in view of the hoard.
“Hey!” Dana shouted. “Hey! Hey!”
A few of the undead spotted her, turned, and stumbled toward her. They weren’t attacking her. They were curious.
Hugo grabbed Dana and dragged her back behind the wall.
“What’s wrong with you?” he said. “What are you trying to do? Commit suicide? That’s your big idea?”
A handful of undead approached them. They got the attention of even more of the hoard. Soon, a large chunk of them was heading in their direction.
“They’re getting close!” Hugo said. “Now what?”
“Now, we run!” Dana said.
“We could have done that in the first place,” Hugo said. “And we didn’t need an army on our heels.”
None of them hesitated. They ran. Hugo took Poo Poo Head’s hand and led him down the road. Hugo was too fearful to notice the direction they were heading in. It was left up to Dana to decide their route. They ran back the way they’d come, and then hung a left.
“Wait!” Hugo said, coming to a stop. “This is where we went before. Where the snipers are.”
The undead was on their tail, following them, some way back.
“The snipers will shoot us!” Hugo said.
“That would be very unlucky,” Dana said.
“Unlucky?” Hugo said. “Our plan is relying on luck now?”
“What’s new about that?” Dana said.
They ran into the street. The tarmac flicked up as stray bullets smacked into it. They crossed the street and hid behind an abandoned car. They watched the mouth of the street, where the undead horde would emerge any moment…
Except they hadn’t arrived. Had they stopped? Had Dana and the others run too fast and lost them? Had they forgotten who and what they were chasing?
“This is great,” Hugo said. “Now what?”
In response, Dana picked up a garbage can lid and threw it across the street. It clanged and rattled, making an almighty racket. Hugo planted his hands over his ears to block out the worst of it.
The undead rounded the corner and approached the street. They’d heard the noise and could see the garbage can lid turning in a circle as it rattled off a few more loud decibels and came to a stop.
The undead headed toward the garbage can lid, picking and prying at it. They pushed it, and it made a loud scraping noise. No shots were fired by the snipers yet. These undead were still out of range.
Dana picked up another garbage can lid and threw it, frisbee style. It hurtled across through the air and slammed into the street further up.
“Breadcrumbs,” Hugo said with a grin. “I get it. The garbage can lids are breadcrumbs.”
He picked up his own garbage can lid and prepared to throw. But he hadn’t yet.
“Not yet,” Dana said. “Wait until they pass us. We can run through them, hide, and then throw it to get their attention where we want it.”
They did just that. As the hoard passed the trashcan lid, they made a loud shuffling rustling sound. As they approached the garbage can lid, shots fired.
The snipers took out one undead after the other. There was no way for them to keep up, no way for them to destroy them all. Now was the time when Dana, Hugo, Poo Poo Head, and Debbie would break from their hiding place.
They ran through the hoard, Hugo keeping a tight grip on Poo Poo Head’s hand. They running around them like an obstacle course. Zombie heads exploded like party balloons, showering Dana with shattered brains. They emerged out front, before turning and hiding behind a vehicle.
Hugo pulled his arm back and let the garbage can lid fly. It skimmed across the concrete, lacking the height of Dana’s toss. Still, it had the desired effect. The hoard meandered toward it.
Once enough of them had passed, the survivors took off at a run, using the undead as cover. The group hurled object after object until they got to the end of the street. No matter how many bullets the snipers fired, there was no way for them to take out all of the undead. It was simply impossible.
The heads of the undead exploded around the group, some no more than a few feet away. The snipers’ bullets slammed into their craniums. The undead were unaware of what was causing them such harm. Neither did they care. They concentrated only on the tossed objects and the flesh of their fallen comrades.
Finally, the shots from the snipers died.
“Why have their stopped shooting?” Dana said.
“The undead are getting too close,” Hugo said. “They’re relocating. They don’t much relish the idea of getting cornered.”
“How do you know so much about all this?” Dana said.
Hugo shrugged.
“Just something I picked up,” he said.
Dana had been to Hugo’s house, had seen who his father was in a collection of frozen memories in the living room cabinet. There was no doubt in her mind where he had learned these things.
At the end of the street, they hung a left. Then they took an immediate right, heading down the street. The entire city was a maze. They could get lost, cornered, or ju
st unstuck, with ease. They were hampered by Debbie’s slow speed.
Finally, they turned another corner. When Dana checked around it, she found the undead only halfway up the block.
“Now what?” Hugo said.
“Do you know where the sailing club is?” Dana said.
“The one on the seafront?” Hugo said. “Yes. Why?”
“I’ll meet you there,” Dana said.
“Meet us there?” Hugo said. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll draw the zombies away,” Dana said.
“How are you going to do that?” Hugo said.
“You can’t keep running, not forever,” Dana said. “And especially not Debbie. We need to get to this safe house right now.”
They were on the suburbs of town. In front of them was a large plate glass window. It was home to the showroom of a classic car company. Dana ran to the main door, closed her eyes, and after murmuring a prayer to herself, she tried the door. It opened. Of course, it was unlocked. Who locked doors during the apocalypse?
Dana entered and went directly into the showroom. She entered the back office and approached a box attached to the wall. Inside it were dozens of keys, of every shape and size. Each them were labeled.
She grabbed one set of keys and turned to leave. She stopped and turned back to the set of hanging keys. She replaced the ones in her hand. She turned her head to one side and read each of the labels. She came to one that caught her attention, smiled, and took them.
She left the office and approached a car. It was a hot rod red Chevrolet Camaro ZL1. She revved the engine, loud. It chugged like an old tractor even when she didn’t touch the accelerator. She took off the handbrake. The car darted forward, smashing through the showroom window. Dana took the car onto the pavement and onto the street.
The alarm should have gone off, but the city’s power was already out.
“Nice set of wheels,” Hugo said.
“Get to the sailing club,” Dana said.
She uttered no more argument, and hit the gas. She screeched down the street, checking back in her wing mirrors to check Hugo was on his way out of there. He had. They were leaving.
Danna revved the engine, making it roar. She waited for the undead to catch up before roaring again.
