Two people got out of the car. They were holding their hands up in the air. The crowd in the circle seemed agitated, screaming and pointing at the people. I figured that they heard the siren too, and were drawn in like the creatures.
“Are those people like us? People trying to get help?” Kyle whispered, even though we were hundreds of yards away.
That’s when the guy holding the chainsaw swung a shotgun from around his back and opened fire.
The shots tore through the first person, puncturing his chest, dropping him to the ground on impact. The other person turned to run, and got the full barrel of buckshot blown right through his back. He flew into the car, creating a spider web of blood-covered cracks on the windshield.
I was standing at full alert with my hands stuck to the top of my head, watching in horror, when Kyle pulled me back down to a crouch. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen. People were killing people…
“Don’t let them see you,” Kyle said sternly.
A few of the others from inside the circle crossed the bridge and one by one took the bodies over to the fire-pit, tossing them in with the same level of remorse they had for the zombies they had just slain.
The cop car pulled up minutes later to help with the clean up.
Chapter 13
I’m going to ask you a simple set of questions.
The sky was turning pink with white waves of clouds as the sun started to set over the tree line. Kyle and I were discussing what to do next when we heard a rattle of the door handle behind us.
In a panic, we both ducked behind a nearby bush. Peering through the leaves, I watched as a slender woman with dark brunette hair and a revealing black swimsuit stepped out.
She lazily walked to the overlook where we were hiding, and stood at the railing of the deck just above us. I heard a click, then another. I smelled the familiar smoke from a freshly lit cigarette floating in the air.
Not moving a muscle, Kyle and I were both crouched down, attempting to stay concealed. I watched a bead of sweat start from Kyle's brow, run down the side of his face and consequently, his neck, and into his shirt collar. He didn’t flinch.
My legs were starting to shake when I heard a car door echo shut from the town below. The people had finished their cleanup and were heading back into the neighborhood.
The finished cigarette was flicked over our heads. Ashes fell from the butt like a tiny rocket as it floated downward. We could hear the woman’s feet touch each board softly as she padded back to the pool.
We need to get the hell out of here, I thought to myself. The Hummer was on the side of the house, and not obvious to anybody who was just driving by. However, it could be seen if you moved close enough to the house. After all, its yellow exterior wasn’t exactly designed to blend in.
Kyle’s expression told me that he was thinking the same thing. We began creeping around the exterior of the deck, still crouched as low as we could get. It didn’t matter if this woman saw us. We’d be at the Hummer in just moments.
Her feet were splashing in the pool, and her back was to us. She was sitting down, leaning back on both arms. Soft, graceful, and methodical, her movements were not unlike those of a small house cat.
We could hear people talking in front of the house and cars driving by.
Hearing the rattle from the rear door once again, Kyle and I dove behind the fountain. Lifting my head up from the grass, I could still see the woman slowly moving her feet back and forth in the water. The noise was from someone else joining her.
The black plastic apron and chainsaw told me he was the zombie chopper. He stepped through the door, and walked to a garden hose by the side of the house, setting down his weapons against the wall.
The woman didn’t even look up at him; he didn’t say anything to her. The air was silent except for the pounding of my heart and the water hose.
He rinsed off his boots, black plastic apron and helmet. We were close enough to see a watered down crimson pool of blood flow into the flowerbed.
Once finished, he lumbered across the deck to stare down at the little town. He was heavier built, and each footstep came down on the boards with a loud echoing thump.
“You’ve been smoking again,” he growled.
The woman didn’t reply. Her feet were still playing in the water. He paused.
“The Zs are cleared out. We pulled them in from miles around. This system is working,” he said, almost looking for approval. He received none.
“More people showed up down there. I took care of them.” He sounded more macho now, but still received no response from the woman.
“Our very own security force, Officers Dumb and even Dumber, said that they found a few people driving around the neighborhood in a yellow Hummer. Those fucking idiots simply escorted them out of town.” After a moment, he went on.
“I’ll put a bullet in those rent-a-cops, if those people come back with any friends.”
He set a small handgun on the wooden railing, as he gazed across the now darkening sky. Turning around, he looked down at the woman, watching her kick in the water.
They remained there in silence as the minutes ticked by. Kyle and I looked at each other.
“What the fuck?” he mouthed. I could only shrug.
“What’s with the silent treatment?” We heard from the guy on the porch. I could hear his feet thudding across the deck once again.
“Are you still pissed because we’re not going to Avalon?”
Kyle and I glanced at each other in question; other people knew of this area?
“That place is for fucking pussies. Don’t you get it? They are going to wall themselves up into a cave, and hope this shit passes.”
Feet still kicking in the water, no response.
“Oh, I get it. All your girlfriends got the season pass, so you need to be there, too, huh? It’s not good enough to stay here, safe, in our own new house.”
Her feet stopped kicking.
“Mother fucker!” she screamed. “Mother fucker! My family is at Avalon. All my friends are there. You want to stay here, surrounded by this group of free loaders and poor people. This isn’t our house. This is our coffin!”
He was standing over her again. Just as he was about to respond, we heard a bang and screaming from the side of the house. Kyle and I knew what had happened instantly. They found the Hummer.
Moments later, the two cops emerged from the other side of the house, pushing Michael, who appeared to be in handcuffs in front of them.
“What the fuck is this?” snapped the guy on the deck.
“This is one of the guys from the Hummer, which is currently parked on the side of your home,” one of the cops said sarcastically. “You didn’t see the large banana next to your house?”
“He wasn’t alone, so we can assume there are two more adult males somewhere around here,” the other cop noted.
“You should have taken care of these fuckers when you had the chance. You should have never let those people go!” the guy bellowed. Nobody bothered to respond. The woman’s feet were kicking in the water once again.
“Bring him over here and cuff him to the table,” the house owner said, as he motioned towards a black wrought iron table sitting near the pool.
As the cops hauled Michael over, it was obvious he couldn’t walk on his own and clearly was still very much in pain.
The man on the deck picked up the small handgun on the railing, and walked over to where his black apron sat. He slid it over his chest, and then stuck the handgun between his pants and his back as he walked back over to Michael.
“I’m going to ask you a simple set of questions. Either you can answer these questions, or you can decide not to. That is a choice you have to make. However, I want you to understand what your choice means.”
Michael’s one hand was cuffed to the table; his other was covering his stomach. There was a look of terror in his eyes.
Kyle and I were close to the side of the house. We could eas
ily escape. I looked at him. It was an unspoken question; do we save our own ass, or do we rescue our passenger? Kyle motioned toward the deck. I nodded, and quietly slid my hammer from my belt. We wanted our wounded companion back.
The man on the deck continued.
“Life is full of choices. People make them every day. Today, you have ten choices.” As he spoke in a sinister voice, he reached into the front pocket of his black apron and his hand emerged with what looked like pruning shears. Flicking the spring release on them, he held them in front of Michael's face. One cop grabbed Michael’s bound wrist and held it to the table, while the other officer pinned his body down.
“Where are your friends? But before you answer, I want it to be clear what your choice is. If you chose not to tell me what I want to hear, you lose your left index finger. You will have nine more choices if you answer this one wrong. Are we clear on your options?”
He gazed down at his prey. Utterly stunned, Michael did not respond. The man on the porch opened the sheers and placed them around his index finger.
I started to stand up, but Kyle yanked me back down. He made a hand signal that looked like a gun, and shook his head. He was waiting for a bigger distraction.
“I don’t; I don’t know where they are,” Michael stammered. “Come on. I’m rich. I can give you anything. Do you know what Avalon is? I can get you in,” he began to plead.
Pausing, his captor looked over at the girl in the pool, shook his head, and then pulled down on the sheers. A streak of blood spattered across the wooden deck. Michael let out a howl that I’ll never forget. He twisted maniacally under the cops’ weight as the bastard cut again to sever the finger completely.
In that instant, Kyle pulled me up, and we charged them from behind. Completely distracted by Michael’s screams, they never saw us coming. Kyle swung his metal weapon at the first cop, then the second. They were out in an instant.
I tackled the zombie chopper, driving him away from Michael. I could see his finger fall from the sheers as we both hit the deck. The guy had fifty pounds on me or better, and he easily threw me off to the side. Luckily, I kept my wits and cracked the hammer against his knee as he took his first step towards me.
I could still hear Michael screaming in the background as Kyle stood over us with a pistol aimed directly at the face of the man.
“Move and you’re dead,” Kyle snarled in a dangerously low voice. “I’ll put one in your chest so you come back as one of those fucking zombie things. Then I’ll put one in your head so I can kill you twice.”
The guy rocked back and forth, holding his knee but made no other move.
I scrambled to one of the unconscious cops, and pulled the keys to the cuffs from his belt. Unlocking Michael, I then heaved him onto his wobbly legs.
Holding his grossly amputated finger, Michael staggered to his tormentor and drove his foot into his face. The guy dropped unconscious to the wooden planks, blood draining from his now broken nose.
Kyle pulled the two holsters from the cops’ belts, and tossed one to me. Strapping the holster around my waist, I felt like a bad ass. I had shot guns before, but only at a target range. Playing army as a kid didn’t really prepare me for this.
Kyle looked over at Michael, “You going to make it? You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. Some dick face just cut my finger off.” He kicked the guy on the porch again, bringing his foot down hard on his chest.
“What was that shit about choices? I have a choice for you. Don’t cut my fucking finger off. How about that for fucking choices.”
I looked between the two of them, then up at the sky.
“We need to get out of here. I have no clue where to head.”
“Any place is better than here,” Kyle replied.
“Yeah,” Michael said. “Maybe we could go someplace where they don’t cut your finger off.”
In that instant, just beyond where Michael was standing, I saw the guy on the porch reach his right arm around to his back. I could see the small handgun emerge.
“Michael, look o-!” I heard a gunshot, but Michael didn’t fall.
The guy on the deck fell backwards, blood staining the wooden planks, mixing with the blood from Michael’s finger.
I looked wildly at Kyle. A handgun didn’t do that. He was staring behind me. I whirled around, my voice catching in my throat. The woman from the pool was standing by the door with the shotgun in hand. She looked up and met my eyes.
“I want to go to Avalon.”
Chapter 14
There is a point in time where one hopes that what is happening will just stop, before another killing occurs.
Her name was Sophia. Aside from killing her husband, who was almost twice her age, she was actually very accommodating.
Leaving his bloody remains dripping all over the porch, she invited us inside the house. Knowing that it was too dark to venture from the relatively secure area, we cautiously decided to take her up on the offer.
After cuffing the two unconscious cops to the wrought iron table, making them look like they were sodomizing each other, courtesy of Kyle, we stepped through the rear door.
The house was enormous, and clearly the biggest that I’d ever been in. The back door led directly into a great room with a fireplace so large that I could literally walk into it. Kyle shot me a look as if to say, “This place creeps me out.” I just nodded in agreement, as we followed Sophia through the house.
“Won’t the gunshot alert your neighbors?” Kyle asked.
She looked back at him, smiled, and with a cool tone said, “Gun shots are a part of life now. You’ll hear them all night long. People stopped running towards them days ago.”
As we entered the kitchen, she offered us any food that we could find in the fridge, and then laid the shotgun against a nearby chair as she lit up a cigarette. Using a cup to flick ashes into, she told us that Richard, her husband, would never let her smoke in the house. She was eerily calm, almost monotone with her statement.
Warming up to Michael immediately, she gestured with a smile, and went into full nurse mode as he sat down. She opened a number of doors before she found an emergency kit that contained gauze and tape, with which she began bandaging him up.
Neither Kyle nor I turned down the offer of food, digging around in the fully stocked fridge.
“What is this place?” Kyle asked around a mouthful of deli meat.
Sophia slowed her bandaging and thought carefully.
“It’s our home,” she said.
“Yeah, I’ve got that, lady. How come this town has power when no place else does?”
She went on to explain that the neighborhood was one of the newest in “green” efficiency. It had become popular to be green in her social circles, and the town ran on a combination of hydroelectric and wind turbines on the other side of the hill. Each house also boasted a series of solar panels sitting atop their roofs.
“What about the sirens?” I asked.
“Richard was hell bent on staying here. He devised the system, and persuaded those who stayed here to help him with the cleanup. He even offered vacant homes in the neighborhood to people passing by, promising them shelter in exchange for their help with protection. That is, until the houses were full. Then he started turning away people. When they wouldn’t turn away…well, he applied more forceful methods.”
“Yeah, we saw the more forceful methods down at the siren,” Kyle said.
“I didn’t say he was a good man,” Sophia countered.
“He was a fucking dick!” Michael blurted while looking down at his bandaged hand.
Sophia ran her hand through his silver hair, comforting him with an arm around his waist. Kyle looked at me, shaking his head slowly as he scowled.
“I’m not so sure about this siren stuff. You remember how the zombies followed us for miles to the gas station. Who’s to say that the neighborhood watch didn’t just kill the closest creatures…that there are not hundreds more on the way?”
We all looked at each other in alarm, agreeing that we’d better get the hell out of there at daybreak.
Looking Michael in the eyes, Sophia asked, “So will you take me? Will you take me to Avalon with you?” Michael paused, and looked at us.
“We have another seat in the car,” he said quietly.
Kyle and I stepped to the side and mulled it over for a moment. Neither of us trusted her for shit. It was obvious that she had suckered up to Michael from the second we got into the place. However, she did save him out on the deck; even if it was her husband she killed. For a good reason but still…
“I’ll tell you what, we’ll let you come if you let me use your phone,” I said to her.
“It’s over there.” She smiled and pointed back towards the great room.
I nodded, and took a deep breath as I walked toward the fireplace and spied the phone sitting on a nearby end table.
My fingers were shaking as I dialed her cell number. The call went straight to voicemail.
“Hello, this is Jenn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a nice day.”
“Damn,” I said aloud. What did I really expect? I decided to leave a message.
“Jenn, I’m okay. We’re held up in a house in Jersey. Still a long way away I know, but I’m traveling with a few people who I trust, and we’ll be there soon. There is supposed to be a place in West Virginia that’s safe. One of the guys I’m with says he can get us all in. Don’t have time to explain here, but I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. I don’t know how long the phones will work. If you can get to a CB radio, turn it to channel 14 and make sure it’s on at noon every day. We’ll be able to talk when I’m in range. I love you so much. I will find you.” Beep.
I dropped my head and paused for a moment.
I dialed my home number. The phone rang, then again, and a third time. Voice mail.
“John. If this is you, I’m okay. I don’t have much time with this message, so listen carefully. Sue’s dead, John. She came back as one of those things. Joe was able to push her out of the car. We made it to a nearby cabin. It’s not Joe’s, but nobody has claimed it. The baby has not come yet, but I’m just weeks away. The address is 127 Brown Bear Rd., Blue Ridge, GA. It doesn’t have a phone, but I left this message from a working land line at a small gas station down the street. Get here as soon as possible. I’ll check this voicemail every day. Please let me know if you’re all right! I love you, John!”
900 Miles: A Zombie Novel Page 9
