by Zuko, Joseph
She squeezed through the hatch. The two bags and her torso smooshed together as she muscled out onto the roof.
She mumbled, “Thank God I’ve only got B cups.”
Leon’s hand rested on the stick shift, ready to punch the gas. He studied the different monsters shuffling around the front of the bus.
What are they thinking about?
Is anything firing between their ears?
A horrible thought occurred to him. He whispered it to himself. “What if they are trapped? Maybe, on the inside, they’re normal, but they can’t control themselves. They are forced to eat peop-” He paused mid-sentence and jerked forward. Shawna was ten feet from Ryder’s car when he spotted her and Leon wasn’t the only creep interested in the fast-moving woman. A pack of infected broke from the front of the bus and were on collision course to intercept her. “Oh, poop.”
Sara stepped next to Desiree at the edge of the building. She tossed the first bag of food to the canopy. Troy helped steady Karen as she jumped to the roof of the bus. “I got your shotgun,” said Sara as she called down to them.
Troy guided Karen toward the hatch. “Thank you dar-”
The blast of a gunshot caused everyone to duck.
Shawna was taken by surprise when the football sized hole punched through the zombie’s skull.
Dang! This gun has some stopping power. Her shoulder ached from the impact, but she kept sprinting.
The monster fell backwards and knocked the others to the ground. It gave her the few extra seconds she needed to get to the Firebird. Behind her the zombies clawed each other as they fought to gain traction. Her fingers fumbled with the keys until she found the one with a Pontiac symbol.
They were only a few feet away. An unbelievable amount of panic swept through her and her body wasn’t working correctly.
This was a dumb move.
The key slid into the lock, she twisted her wrist and was tackled from behind. The tip of the key broke off as she crashed to the rough surface of the parking lot. A set of red teeth snapped an inch from her face.
Chapter 12
Paul stood in the doorway at the rear of the church. In the stock room, people swarmed the ammo boxes and gun safes. He wished more than anything that Dana was still alive. She could keep any size group organized, always knew what to do and in which order the project needed to be done.
Scotch sloshed around in his belly. A calming numbness set in as he calculated the next move.
Michael stood in the center of the room. He barked incomplete sentences and attempted to rally the people, but it only added to their panic.
Doctor Bryant stationed herself close to the main entrance. As people exited, she offered words of encouragement and told them to stay calm.
Outside was complete chaos.
People abandoned their posts in search of a safe seat inside a vehicle. The rest tried desperately to keep the wall of flesh eaters from reaching the church. They weren’t an army. They didn’t have proper training. His people weren’t prepared to make an orderly retreat while defending itself from an onslaught of infected.
I can’t be two places at once.
How am I going to get everyone inside the church ready to move and at the same time lead the charge against the approaching horde? Brother Paul deliberated as his world crumbled around him.
Cooper raced across the field. Gunfire chopped at the infected. The monsters poured through what remained of the tree line behind the church. Mountains of dead bodies littered the field and slowed the bastards’ progress.
I’ve got to get to the truck. He pushed harder. His lungs burned, and his thighs ached. On the other end of the field was a semi with a trailer attached. He had taken it from a warehouse earlier that morning. It was full to the brim with food and toiletries. Enough to keep everyone fed and clean for months. They absolutely needed this truck for survival. He skidded to a stop and let a fortified school bus drive by.
Taggart was at the bus’s helm. He cruised a foot away from Cooper and pulled from the blockade. The big rig’s absence left a large hole in the semicircle that protected the rear of the church. Now they were fully exposed, and speed was their only ally. Cooper drove his feet harder. He was in a foot race and his opponents didn’t register pain or need oxygen. It was going to be a photo finish. One he couldn’t afford to lose.
Lisa stepped closer to the Hummer and pointed at two men. “Brady, Mason, you guys put the last canisters in the trunk.” She patted a woman on the shoulder. “Alayna, you man the turret.” Her ranger team snapped to. The guys loaded a few more gas tanks into the rear of the vehicle as Alayna scurried into the Hummer’s open door.
Lisa hopped into the driver’s seat and surveyed the field. The infected were getting close and there were not enough guns keeping them at bay. Her orders were to lead the caravan out of Vancouver, but if the creatures managed to breach the church, there wouldn’t be anyone to lead.
We need more time. She removed a pack of gum from her front pocket, tugged at a stick, peeled off the wrapper and popped it in her mouth. Chewing something minty always helped her stay focused.
“Move it, guys!” Lisa slammed her door shut and started the engine.
Alayna worked to get into position under the turret. “What are we going to do?” She slid a Kevlar vest over her head and Velcroed it tight to her torso.
“How many boxes of ammo are left for the fifty cal?” asked Lisa.
“A dozen,” said Alayna. She pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail and put on a helmet.
“I hope it’s enough.” Lisa tapped the accelerator.
Both men were panting as Brady and Mason climbed into the rig.
Mason was small in stature and had a mop top of blonde surfer hair. He crawled into the back next to Alayna and put on a pair of mirrored Aviator glasses. “The tanks are secured.” He checked the mag on his rifle and released the bolt.
Brady sat next to Lisa in the passenger seat. He was tall with broad shoulders and cursed with a baby face that kept his appearance close to a supersized teen. He lifted his rifle and yelled, “Punch it.”
Lisa stomped the gas and her Hummer took off for the gap in the semicircle.
Alayna struggled through the turret. She let out a loud grunt as she lifted the heavy box and set it on a platform next to the gun, popped the top and tugged the belt of rounds. They were the size of large carrots, measuring five inches long and felt like they weighed a quarter pound each. It was her second time loading the weapon and it took a moment to feed the belt into the gun.
More vehicles were on their way to the front of the church. It was a mad scramble.
Alayna slapped the lid shut at the top of the machine gun, released the bolt and opened fire. Spent shells rained back into the turret and pinged off the metal flooring.
Limbs went flying.
Torsos were torn in half.
Skulls vaporized. The infected bodies popped like bags of blood. It was glorious.
Paul faced his people inside the church. He knew what needed to happen next and how to proceed. Divine inspiration struck him only a moment ago. He was filled with a confidence.
Perhaps I have regained my connection with The Almighty?
Maybe He has shown me the path? There was no time for spiritual reflection. He had to move fast.
Paul cleared his throat and hollered. “Listen up!” His voice boomed across the room. Everyone paused, turned and went quiet. “I want an orderly line, waiting at the front door in two minutes. I want the youngest children loaded first. Michael and Lindsey are in charge…” He glanced at every soul in his vicinity. “I’ll join all of you at our new home. God bless.” And with that he ducked through the doorway and charged onto the field. Once he was gone the others got to work. They moved with purpose.
Scott pushed through the crowd until he was at Michael’s side. He handed him a map.
“What’s this?” asked Michael as he took the piece of paper.
“Give it to yo
ur driver.”
“A map? I’ve been there before. I don’t need this.” Scott’s grim appearance said otherwise. It took a moment to hit Michael. “It’s in case I don’t make it?”
“Just in case.” Scott grabbed him by the elbow. “You can do this.”
Michael’s gaze met Scott’s and he gave him a friendly pat before letting go of the pastor’s arm. “He asks of you, only what you can accomplish.”
Michael came close to a grin. He replayed the words in his mind. “Is that… Is that a quote from-”
Scott cut him off, “You said it the first month you got here.” Scott moved for the door.
Michael’s dreary tone was lifted. He sounded close to normal as he called after Scott, “I’m glad someone was listening.”
Cooper wanted to hit the deck the second Alayna opened fire with the machine gun. He swore the rounds were passing a few inches from his skull. He kept his feet moving, but fear caused him to swerve off course. The change in direction cost him precious seconds. On the opposite side of the semi-truck was a squad of infected. They were outside Alayna’s sightline and moving fast toward the passenger door. Cooper carried a rifle in his hands and a pistol on his hip, but he had not fired either of them in months.
I should have practiced more. He carried the rifle for protection, but truth be told, the weapon only gave him a false sense of security. Yes, eventually he would land a kill shot, but it would take the whole magazine worth of ammo and his reload speed was horrible. With his luck, the next monster in line would tear him to pieces.
Maybe I’ll get through the day without firing a single shot. He hoped with all his heart. Cooper caught a glimpse of the monsters.
Probably not.
He closed in on the truck. Cooper needed both hands to climb the rig and get it rolling. He tugged at the gun’s strap and stuck his head through the opening. He transitioned the rifle to his back before he leaped onto the side of the truck. The steps were slick, as were the handles mounted on the side of the rig, but he managed not to fall. He opened the door and climbed into the cab. He won the race, but the infected were sore losers. Bodies rocked into the passenger door, the fender, and the side of the cab. A wet, tattered hand slapped against the glass.
Cooper screamed, leaned across the seat and locked the door.
That won’t stop them. His hand searched under the dash, where he hid the key earlier. A set of black eyes peered through the window. Braces covered the teenage girl’s teeth, which somehow made the idea of being bitten even worse. Its lips were pulled tight, exposing its gums. It wore a Mountain View High School letterman’s jacket and had lettered three times in track.
No wonder she was so fast. He reasoned. His fingers found the key.
The track star smashed its head into the window.
Cooper tried three times to get the key into the ignition. He realized he was holding his breath and close to passing out. He sucked in a sharp, lungful of air. Even with all the meditation and yoga he practiced throughout the years, Cooper was unable to calm his nerves.
The dead girl’s head crashed through the glass. An eviscerated hand reached through the cab for Cooper’s throat. Its grip was surprisingly strong, but he managed to slip from its grasp. The infected pulled itself deeper into the cab. It reached, with both hands, as it frantically tried to get hold of him. The bitch wanted to take a nice big bite of his flesh. Its teeth slammed shut, missing him by a hair. He ducked and dropped the key to the carpeted floor.
Two more slimy jerks climbed onto the hood of the semi. They struck at the window and smeared gore across the glass.
The infected teen’s open hands slapped at Cooper’s shoulder and back. Its nails clawed at his jacket. It dragged itself through the window. There was nowhere for him to hide. He abandoned the key, forced his back to the door, grabbed the nasty teen by the throat and pushed its snapping skull back toward the busted window. Without thinking, his fist turned into a ball and swung at the infected girl’s nose. His punch did nothing but hurt his own hand.
The creatures at the windshield continuously crashed their fists and foreheads into the clear surface, but the thick layer of safety glass held.
The infected teen swatted at Cooper’s face. Its wild claw knocked his hat and sunglasses to the floor. He pushed harder, trying with all his might to expel the thrashing beast from the cab, but it was obvious this dead teen wasn’t going anywhere. The gun at his hip caught the backrest as he twisted his body to combat the dead girl. It pulled his attention to the weapon.
It’s my only option. The infected girl worked her knee through the busted window, lurched forward and fell onto Cooper’s body. A loud scream escaped from his mouth and filled the small space. Awkwardly wrestling this young dead woman, on the painful bucket seats of the semi, reminded him, somewhat, of his time with Emily Russell.
They were both seniors in high school. Emily had a strange reputation. One she started and actively promoted. Emily was the first, self-proclaimed, sex positive feminist, he ever met. She was advanced, in control and called the shots. Her mission was to help train the uneducated men in her class, the proper way to treat a lady. Emily was highly adept at finding guys with zero experience and low confidence. This power gave her a legendary, goddess like status among her male peers. Cooper recalled how upfront and blunt she was about the process. Emily made it clear she wasn’t after a boyfriend and this wasn’t about love, nor was it an act of mercy.
“I’m helping you, so you don’t disappoint a girl you care about in the future,” said Emily from the passenger seat of Cooper’s car, before she grabbed him and made a man out of the nervous boy.
Cooper distinctly recalled how absolutely terrified he was sitting next to Emily. The fear of the unknown. The anticipation of touching her body. The pure terror of stepping through the threshold from childhood to manhood was all encompassing and crippling. Cooper couldn’t form a full sentence. He grunted yes and no to her questions, but some people were born to teach, and Emily seemed to have found her calling. She started with baby steps. They progressed slowly as she explained the why to everything she wanted him to do. It was as exhilarating as it was informative. She set every one of his misconceptions straight and walked him through the delicate process of foreplay. He recalled every blissful moment their bodies were intertwined. To this day, his night with Emily was one of the top three in Cooper’s life. As fantastic as that night was, the fear Cooper experienced then was nothing compared to the relentless horror he faced at this moment.
Cooper struggled to gain some distance between him and dead track star as it inched closer to his exposed skin.
I must kill this thing. His anxiety didn’t revolve around the possibility of his death. Cooper had been convinced, for a long time, a better place waited for him at the end of his story. His main concern was for the people counting on him inside the church. They needed the supplies stacked in the semi’s trailer. Without the food and water, more of the congregation would perish.
His limbs were entangled with the ferocious flesh eater in the letterman’s jacket. Its teeth aimed for his neck. He caught the side of its head with his elbow and slammed it against the steering wheel. Its forehead bounced off the horn. The semi let out a loud BEEP! He kept the pressure on as he reached for his sidearm. He came close to dropping the pistol twice as he raised the gun to the infected girl’s chin. His thumb clumsily flipped the safety as he pressed the barrel against her snapping jaw. He squeezed the trigger. The noise was deafening inside the cab. Brains exploded from the back of her skull. The gore covered the console and dash. Its body went limp and pinned him to the seat.
Movement at the busted window grabbed his attention.
Another monster!
Cooper emptied his gun. Its body fell from the side of the rig and was quickly replaced by another haggard face.
Chapter 13
Shawna panicked as she fought for her life. The monster’s gaping mouth hung above her face, as if it was going in for
a rancid kiss. She sucked in a nose full of zombie breath as she hyperventilated. It smelled as if the thing had recently dined on a bag of shit.
Earlier, when she plotted this escape, she saw herself breezing past the creepers, making it to the car completely unscathed, riding off into the sunset and arriving at the church in under an hour. Apparently, easier said than done. Sharp chunks of gravel stabbed into her back as the infected pressed its weight on to her. The pain along her spine amplified her bleak reality and put an exclamation point on how much she had screwed the pooch with this stupid idea. The double-barrel shotgun was awkwardly jammed between the two of them. She fired it thirty seconds ago and heat was still kicking off from one side of the gun. It was as hot as a nuked bowl of soup. Touching it burned like hell, but she needed to use it to keep the infected from launching its teeth into her neck. She benched the wiry creep off her chest. Shawna spotted another pack of infected behind the squirming monster. They limped and shuffled in her direction.
This is it!
