Respect for the Dead (Surviving the Dead Book 1)

by Shawn McLain

  Martin grabbed Devin again as Trevor urged them to follow him. The three men ran down the hall to the stairs that led down to front doors. When they pushed through the doors into the lobby of the city government building they were met with bedlam. The security guards were screaming at a group of people to stay back. The group was trying to break through the front doors. Devin saw streaks of blood covering the glass. The people looked like they had been through a meat grinder.

  “Aim for the heads boys!” Martin yelled. “don’t try to reason just shoot and run!”

  “The side door!” Screamed Trevor.

  The three men sprinted across the lobby, Trevor in the lead followed closely by Devin and the Mayor huffing, bringing up the rear. The glass from the front doors shattered. The security guards guns blasted as the men ran by. Devin covered his head and ran after Trevor. Martin yelled over his shoulder, “Shoot em in the head and run for you lives damn it!”

  Devin slid around a corner after Trevor. “Keep up Marty!” Trevor threw over his shoulder at the Mayor. Martin exclaimed in very explicit terms for them not to wait for him. Trevor skidded to a halt at the emergency exit to the alley. Devin slammed into the door next to him. The two men stared at each other; both wondering what would greet them on the other side.

  Martin barked at them as he ran full out, “Get out of the way boys!”

  “Mayor what if they are out…”Trevor started.

  “Then you two either better save my ass or run the other way.” Martin shouted as he spun to slam through the door back first into the ally.

  Out of the Cage

  Gillian grabbed Matt’s arm pulling him to the back of the clinic. All the animals were straining and crying in their cages. She hesitated for a moment wanting to set the animals free. What would happen to them if she did? What would happen if she didn’t? Would the creatures follow the animals, or leave them alone? Could she live with herself if she used them as bait? Could she live with herself if she left them in the cages to their fate? Her internal struggle ended with the clang of a metal dish falling from a counter.

  Now it was Matt’s turn to pull Gillian to the door marked exit. Letting go of her arm he pushed on the door. Nothing happened. Gillian looked back down the hall. The two undead were progressing slowly toward them. They were already passed the examination room where Jeremy was. Gillian threw a chair down the hall tripping one of the ghouls. She picked up a large cat carrier and held it ready to throw. Behind the advancing dead, Jeremy stumbled out of the room. His movements were jerky and stuttered. It looked like he was having trouble making his limbs move.

  Gillian saw the look on his face. The boy she had been treating was no longer behind the eyes. It was time to go. She threw the carrier at the jawless man who was closest. It bounced off his chest not slowing his progress.

  Matt glanced over his shoulder. Seeing the approaching ghouls with his friend close behind sent him into a panic, “Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” He screamed pushing at the door.

  The jawless man was furthest down the hall, Jeremy was not far behind and the one on the floor was thankfully having a difficult time extricating himself from the chair. Jeremy let out a howl like nothing Gillian had heard before, a low mournful cry that was answered by a gurgling from jawless and a lower howl from the chair man. Matt was pushing and pulling at the door, whimpering and pounding.

  It started in her toes and worked its way to the top of her head. Terror like she had never felt, she flung whatever was in reach at the creatures. A pair of scissors flew from her hand and embedded themselves in the chest of jawless. He did not falter.

  Giving up on throwing things she ran to Matt’s side, “Deadbolt!” She screamed and tried to turn the knob. Matt, in a panic, tried to push the door open.

  “Let go of the door so I can turn the deadbolt!” She yelled at the boy.

  “What! Let me out! Let me out!” Matt screamed back.

  Pushing Matt out of the way she cranked the deadbolt, twisted the doorknob, and pushed the door open. She flung herself and a panicking Matt out into the street. Turning she saw the jawless man right on top of them. The same stench she had encountered from Jeremy’s wound accosted her nose. Gagging she slammed the door on the jawless face. The slam of the door barely hid the crunch of a nose as the door met his face.

  Cool evening air flooded into her lungs. The smell of decomposition still haunted her sense of smell. Drawing deep heavy breaths she slumped against the heavy steel door. The cool metal felt safe and sturdy against her back. Matt was looking up and down the alley. Gillian became aware of a scratching coming through the door. Suddenly the door rattled in its frame, Gillian jumped away ready to run.

  Matt grabbed her arm, “we, we should be ok. They don’t seem too good with door knobs.” He panted still scanning the alley.

  She turned to ask one of the million questions screaming through her mind but only one came out as she saw the street, “What the hell is going on?”

  Withdrawal

  Wendell Phillips glared at Archie Snowden’s back as he mounted the steps to the bank. The two men had worked together for the past seven years. Wendell had never really liked the man. Wendell’s former partner had retired and he got stuck with Archie. In Wendell’s opinion, Archie was a foul mouthed, lazy, grouch. He complained incessantly about the job, their supervisors and the weight of the money they carried.

  For Archie, Wendell was a bore. All Wendell wanted to do was make the runs and get back without incident. Archie prayed for the day when someone would start something. Today could finally be that day.

  Wendell had never even had a bullet in the chamber of his gun, earning him the nickname Barney Fife from Archie. Today the gun was out of the holster, loaded and ready. His head snapped to the left as a scream floated from a building across the street. A car jumped the curb, tore across the sidewalk but kept going. Wendell’s arms were starting to ach from the tension. He needed to get home to his wife to get them out of this town.

  Dispatch had ordered them to the main branch of the First County Bank. When they had arrived the manager had opened the vault and told them to take the money to one of the branches in the suburbs.

  In the bank Archie wiped the sweat from his balding head. Grabbing three large bags and grinning from ear to ear, moved his large frame out the door to the back of the armored car. Throwing the bags into the truck he slapped Wendell on the arm and hurried back up the stairs.

  “Hurry up, I want to get this done and get home.” Wendell shouted at Archie who just gave an irritated wave over his shoulder.

  “Just have to get the rest of my retirement.” Archie said to himself. The manager had run off right after opening the vault. Archie stepped over the reason for the manager’s flight. The woman’s eyes stared up at the ceiling the top of her head was all over the floor and the desk behind her. Archie looked down at her. “Boom! Head shot.” He held his fingers like a gun with his thumb coming down. “You were a mess when you came in, oooo all bloody and growling.” He taunted. “Well your more of a mess now aren’t ya?” Archie laughed as he huffed back to the vault.

  Grabbing three more heavy bags he turned to head back out. He was in the lobby when he stopped and dropped the bags, grabbing his gun. A window shattered. An arm thrust through the broken glass. The arm was cut up, the muscle and suit material hung from the shredded appendage. It flailed around in the window but the height and bars kept the owner from getting in.

  Dancing just out of reach Archie shook his enormous backside at the grabbing hand. “OOH you like that huh?” He laughed. Holstering the gun he grabbed the bags and hurried out the door and down the stairs to the truck.

  The look on Wendell’s face told Archie there was going to be a problem. Next to Wendell was the corpse of a man in a suit. It was obvious that he had been like the woman in the bank and the flailing owner of the arm.

  “I’ve had enough! I am taking the truck and getting my family. Let’s go.” Wendell demanded pointing to the
door of the vehicle.

  Archie stared at Wendell. The last seven years burned in his stomach. He always hated Wendell. Whining about his family and boring him with stories of his old partner. This scrawny old bastard was not going to keep him from this windfall.

  “The world is falling apart,” Archie growled, “by the time they get this straightened out I will be long gone and forgotten. So will this Podunk town bank’s money.” His hand dropped a money bag and edged toward his gun. He eyed Wendell’s weapon. It seemed heavy and awkward in his hand. Archie trained weekly, he doubted Wendell even liked to carry the gun let alone fire it.

  “I am taking the truck, you can come along and I will drop you somewhere but we are leaving now. You can have all the money as well. I don’t….” Wendell’s attention was distracted by movement on the side of the bank. A man with one arm missing was approaching them.

  “Fuck you and fuck your family.” Archie spat.

  Wendell turned back ready to tell Archie what he thought of the fat lazy…His eyes went wide as saucers and the look of total amazement was priceless to Archie. Three rounds hit Wendell in the chest, his gun clattered to the ground. Archie stood over him for a moment trying not to laugh at the look of surprise still etched on Wendell’s face. Blood spread out from the body as Wendell gasped for breath, reaching out to Archie. His eyes rolled back in his head.

  “They won’t miss a rent a cop either, or figure out I did it.” Archie laughed as he ran back up the stairs to the bank shooting the one armed man as he did.

  Disintegration

  The sun burned red as it began its decent behind one of the mountains. The glow brightened by the addition of the several buildings burning out of control. Sitting alone by one of the infernos was a fire truck, water spewed copiously from a hose that no one attended. The flaming Lawyer’s office next to the truck collapsed sending sparks high into the darkening sky.

  Gillian and Matt peaked around the corner. At the end of the block the road was clogged with cars. They were smashed into each other or stood abandon with doors hanging open. Nothing was moving and there was no clear path. They retreated to the other end of the alley, a light burned straight ahead.

  Gillian recognized the café across the street. She had just had lunch there yesterday. The front window was streaked with bloody hand prints. Open mouthed Gillian stepped off the curb toward the restaurant. A car screamed around the corner, two hands yanked her from the road back onto the sidewalk. The car never slowed as it passed.

  “Be careful!” Matt hissed.

  She glanced over her shoulder giving him a nod of thanks. Breathing heavily through the adrenaline, her attention was drawn back to the window. A figure slowly stood up. Its back was to the glass; slowly it turned, for a moment it just stood there then it saw her. Gillian backed up until she ran into the wall. Bloody hands slammed against the window. Teeth scrapped at the glass, loose skin drug across leaving streaks of makeup and blood. Half of the blond hair of the waitress was missing as was part of her scalp. A finger on one hand was also gone; blood stained the pink and white uniform.

  Gillian’s hands covered her mouth as she forced back a scream. The waitress kept trying to get through the glass at them. Matt appeared at her side again grabbing her arm as several people ran past on the other side of the street. They took no notice of the ghoul behind the glass even as she slammed her fists against it.

  “She’ll make it through eventually.” Matt nodded, “They don’t seem to get tired. Just keep banging away until they get through.”

  Her attention followed the retreating group, “Where are those people going?”

  Looking from the direction they ran to where they came from, they spied three ghouls. They were kneeling over a prone figure on the ground. One raised its head; blood covered the mouth and front of the suit shirt. Another head came up and looked in their direction. The green Mohawk was half flattened against the head with dried blood. Its mouth also covered in dripping red.

  “Come on we can’t stay here.” Matt whispered.

  “Right, my car is this…” Gillian faltered, putting her hand in her pocket searching for her keys. The memory of earlier in the day played back in her mind as if on a film. She took them out of her pocket and put them by her lunch bag so she wouldn’t forget it. Slapping herself in the forehead she couldn’t look over at Matt.

  He read the look, “No Keys?” He moaned.

  “Come on we are three blocks from the city building. They have armed guards there and police.” Gillian said. Matt stared at her.

  “We have to walk? Dude that sucks!” Matt frowned.

  Gillian smiled, “Dude? Really?” Matt smiled back and they both chuckled nervously, regaining her composer, “we have to move. This way”, she pointed away from the three ghouls and their prey. The suit and the punk were already on their feet heading in their direction.

  Matt and Gillian moved quickly down the block toward the city building. Gillian trying to block out the screams and blood that seemed to surround and follow them. A man passed them running in the other direction. He stutter stepped, reaching them he faltered just long enough to grab Matt by the shoulder and yell. “GET TO THE BALLPARK!!! The Army is going to pick us up!” He released Matt and ran away. Gillian made to follow the fleeing man but Matt pulled her in the direction they were previously going.

  She began to question him. “That is the way Jeremy and I were coming from. “ There are too many uh, zombies that way.” Matt stated flatly.

  She hesitated then let herself be led away from the direction of the ballpark. “Who was Sarah?” She asked.

  Matt stopped and looked down. “She was my sister.” He started moving again but never looked at Gillian, “My dad was sick, ya know with the flu. My Mom called from the hospital where Dad was and told us things were going crazy down there and to leave. Jeremy, Sarah, and I were trying to get out of town.”

  Coming to a corner Matt pressed himself flat against the wall. He took a quick look then finally met her gaze. “That way looks ok.” Gillian nodded. Matt however didn’t move.

  “Jeremy was driving and we got hit by a truck. It just blew through the light. Sarah got bounced around pretty hard when we got hit. We tried to run to the Ball Park like the radio told us but she was really hurt. Jeremy had been helping her but she fell down and we couldn’t get her to get up. That was when we saw that group come out of the building. Jeremy tried to pick her up and get away. That’s when she,” Matt took a deep breath and swiped at his eyes. Gillian acted like she hadn’t noticed by looking up and down the street.

  It took a moment then he continued, “She attacked him. She bit his shoulder…her eyes… her eyes were all crazy. He pushed her away and she came at him and he pushed her again. She wouldn’t stop coming after him. I tried to grab her and oh god.” Matt wiped his eyes again. The tears were rolling free. Gillian placed a hand on his shoulder. “She just wouldn’t stop. Jeremy had no choice. He loved her ya know. They had been together for two years.” Matt looked up at Gillian, his eyes pleading with her to understand. He dropped his gaze shrugged patted her hand. She dropped it to her side.

  Matt stepped around the corner keeping close the wall and edged down the street, “they are together now I guess.” Not knowing what to say Gillian followed Matt to the next corner where they stopped. Across the street was a bank.

  Need a Ride

  The sound of gunfire caused Gillian and Matt to stop instantly. They watched, stunned as the older man sunk to the ground. The words said by the shooter lost in the chaos that surrounded them. They exchanged a glance. “It is really going to hell isn’t it?” Matt questioned. The fourth shot caused him to jump, looking back toward the retreating figure entering the bank.

  Gillian shook her head, “I can’t believe we are turning on each other already.”

  “Well we need a ride and I doubt one will be offered. I think it is ok to steal a car from a murder.” Matt noted nervously. Gillian couldn’t think of anything
wrong with Matt’s reasoning.

  “We heard four shots. So he only has two bullets left.” Gillian surmised.

  “Assuming he has a revolver and not a semi.” Matt explained. A look of panic passed between them. Without a word they hurried from the corner they were hiding around, across the street to the armored truck.

  “We need the keys. Check his pockets.” Gillian said glancing into the cab. She grabbed the gun from the ground and took the extra ammunition from Wendell’s belt.

  Matt stood staring down at the man. Gillian saw the fear in the young man’s face. “Fine!” she grunted and shoved her hand into a pocket. Finding keys, they jingled free. She tossed them to Matt who hurried to the passenger side door. Wendell groaned. Gillian jumped back.

  She could see the blood pool. She knew there was little time before the other man returned and she knew they could never get him to the hospital in time. Gillian cursed, closed her eyes then checked the back of the truck for any weapons they might need. She only found several sacks of cash. She allowed a moment to muse over the bags, thinking she had only ever seen them in movies. She also tried not to think about putting the Wendell out of his misery. He seemed to have passed out. Shaking the thoughts free and not finding any weapons she closed up the truck.

  Running to the driver’s door she found it locked. Looking through the window she could see the top of Matt’s head outside the other door. Gillian swore again and ran around the front of the truck trying not to look back at the legs twitching at the rear.

  “What is the problem?” She demanded.

  Matt fumbled through the keys trying each one. “There are like a hundred keys on this ring.”

  “Come on, come on.” Gillian urgently whispered.