I think we were up to about fifty zombies when the windows started to crack. I shouted out some obscenities as Ryan finished loading up his gun. He racked a shell in and aimed at the glass, frantically switching targets as the spider web cracks grew bigger and bigger. I shouted for him to follow me and he backed up. The glass exploded under the weight and the first two rows of undead fell down, tripping those behind them. We took advantage of that and ran towards the back. I let him pass me and I held my arms outstretched, knocking shoe boxes off their shelving in hopes to create tripping hazards for my silent predators. I never looked back to see if it worked. I was thinking on the fly. We rounded a corner and saw that there were two doors. We took the one closest to us and ran in. Of course it was a storage closet, and we were now trapped. Ryan and I pushed the door shut and I twisted the deadbolt to lock it. Within seconds, the dead were on the door and it began to creak and shake. There was no way it was going to hold.
I turned my attention to the new guy and did a quick once-over on him. The man was about 5’11 and had really long, dark hair that was matted with blood and other types of tissue. He was wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt that had massive amounts of red on it. Looking at his pointy noise, thin lips, and unshaven face, I guessed that he was in his early thirties like myself. The dude might be handsome to some girls, but right now he looked like shit. I assumed he was hungry and thirsty, so I swung my backpack around and unzipped it halfway. I pulled out one of the grocery bags that I had salvaged from the back of my bosses car and tossed it to him. The disheveled man dropped his shotgun and fell to his knees. I tapped him on the shoulder with a water bottle and he snatched it out of my hands, bobbing his head in an effort to say thank you.
I watched as he tore into the bag in the same manner that those zombies tore into that man I saw on the street the first day. The dude looked hungry. I had to break the silence, so I decided to ask him a stupid question.
“So I have a general idea of what’s going on, but… what’s your take on this?” Even though I had just witnessed some serious shit go down, I wasn’t about to admit it to this Ryan fellow. I didn’t want to sound crazy, which, ironically, sounded crazy.
“Look, all the dead people are starting to stand up and move around again. They are attacking people, eating people, and just… it’s a lot to digest. Thanks man, I’m starving so damn bad,” Ryan said while digging through the ripped grocery bag. He pulled out the box of breakfast bars and hungrily tore into it, almost eating the wrapper as he scarfed down the strawberry treat. I scratched my head with the sights of my 9mm and finally accepted the truth: Zombies were real.
The sounds of fists pounding on the door behind me intensified our situation. We had to act fast, so I began to reload my magazine with what was left from that box of bullets I acquired earlier. “What’s your plan then, Ryan? Because if you don’t have one, I have one. I want to get to my house and to my guns. You should come with me. There’s safety in numbers.”
I only had three magazines on me—which meant that I only had forty-five rounds of “usable” ammo before I had to reload. If I could get Ryan to accompany me, that would improve my odds of getting home and getting to my gun stash. Plus, two people working together was way better than just one. Ryan was already chewing on his third fruit bar and untwisting the cap off of that bottle of water.
“My plan? My plan is to hole up in a hotel or something. They have food in the breakfast area that I could live off of for a while, and I could always chill up on the roof if things got bad. From there, I may be able to figure out where my girlfriend's at.” He smiled.
I returned the smile and then shook my head. “No offense man, but that’s a dumb idea.” Ryan blinked and took a swig of water, legitimately shocked that I would say such a thing. I continued. “Look, a hotel has like, one hundred rooms, right? Average about two people per room, plus the staff, plus all other people who have the same idea as you. You’re not going to last long.” I stuffed the box of 9mm’s back into my backpack and then sucked on the straw to get some water out of my camelback. My magazines were now fully reloaded, with an extra one in the chamber for good measure.
Ryan mulled over what I had said and then shrugged. “Okay, fair enough. I’ll go with you to your house then. But afterwards, I want your help getting to mine.” His words were muffled by the food he was chewing.
I nodded my head and clicked the safety off my Glock. “Deal. Let’s do this. Let’s get the hell out of here.” I sounded so bad ass when I said that, I wished my friends were there to witness it.
Ryan stuffed the rest of the food into his pockets and finished drinking the water. I could hear the door creaking under the weight of the undead mob outside, and it was just a matter of time before they pushed through and started chowing down on my new friend and I. I secured my backpack over my shoulders and clipped the chest piece to keep it from bouncing around when I ran. I started to search the closet in hopes of finding a secret exit, but there wasn’t any. I looked up and saw that there was no roof access from here. I punched the wall out of anger and my fist went through it. That’s when I remembered that I still had my framing hammer and that I could try and bash my way out of here. I pulled it out and started slamming it into the back wall, which is where I was guessing would lead us to the outside. It didn’t take much to break through the sheetrock, Ryan and I tore away at it as fast as I could break it. I got to the exterior surface and started to kick at it, taking swipes with my hammer whenever I could. We could see daylight through a small hole, which only got bigger with each kick. I pushed the plywood out and Ryan slid through. I heard the door crash behind me and they were on me faster than I thought they would be. I was halfway out the hole when they started to pull me back in. Their grimy hands tore at my hair and face. Ryan pulled with all his might on my chest straps, trying to yank me free. I could hear the teeth gnashing behind me as they started to bite my backpack. I would have just unstrapped myself to get away, but one had a pretty good hold on my hair and would not let go.
“Sorry man!” Ryan yelled out. I assumed he was sorry about running away and leaving me to be fed upon. To be honest, I couldn’t blame him—I’d slow them down and he’d get free. But, my new friend surprised me when he slung his shotgun around and stuck it over my head. Ryan pulled the trigger and my ears rang like I had just had music blasted into them. I have a little bit of tinnitus from running a nail gun a good portion of my adult life, but this was way worse. I was sorta dazed by it, but he fired one more round and that brought me back into the moment. I got out of their grasp and was surprised to see that the dead ones had formed an “undead plug” to block the others from coming through. I did a quick assessment of where we were; a small alley that ran behind all the stores in this area. We were the only two back here, which caused me to let out a sigh of relief. I then started to laugh like I had lost my goddamn mind.
“I’m sorry man! I know that’s loud!” Ryan yelled out. I stopped laughing and responded with a “What?” before I understood what he said. This Ryan guy seemed like a good person. I just knew he was going to leave me. Would I have left him? No. I’m positive I wouldn’t have. We grabbed a wood pallet and stuck it over the hole. I got some nails out of my bag and drove four or five of them into the wall to hold it in place.
Ryan reloaded his shotgun and we assessed that he had about forty shells on him. As we walked down the empty alley, Ryan told me his story. Just as I had suspected, he had gotten the hunter's vest from the local general store. I was shocked to learn that it hadn’t been hit yet, but a car accident out front had created a frenzy and people were set upon by the dead. The owner locked up the building, produced a handgun, chased his staff out of the store and then locked himself in, leaving everyone outside to die. Ryan had worked there for five years as a stocker, so while his boss was chasing everyone out, Ryan snuck behind the counter and snagged a 12 gauge Mossberg and a few boxes of shells. He snuck out of the pharmacy’s back window and then locked it
up before leaving. He had been on the run ever since, sleeping on the roof of a crashed 18 wheeler the first night, then sleeping in a tree last night. He climbed out of the tree in search of food when he stumbled across a group of them that had followed him for over four blocks. He told me he couldn’t run anymore and started opening fire on them. I took that time to tell him that headshots were the only shots he should be taking from now on. He nodded and said that he had figured that out when he woke up the one morning and had to shoot down from the top of the truck to escape. He said that all he had was headshots and that the dead stayed dead then.
I took another drink of water and chewed on the end of the straw for a bit. We had reached the end of the alley and it was blocked off with an eight-foot high chain link fence with a locked chain around the gate. And if that wasn’t intimidating enough, barbed wire was strung across the top to keep would-be thieves from getting back here. The street on the other side was dead quiet (pun, sorry) and there wasn’t a soul around.
Ryan pulled on the chain and let out a curse. I looked around for a vehicle, but there wasn’t one anywhere. If I had my truck, I would have just driven that big blue bastard right through this. But I don’t have my truck anymore, because it’s wrapped round a fucking tree right now and keeping my dead boss from getting free and eating people.
I miss my truck.
“Well shit,” I said out loud. We both knew what we had to do, but neither one of us wanted to waste a round of ammo on this lock. Plus, it might draw some of them right to us. We both caught noise of a car heading our way and our heads jerked in that direction. A Cadillac with dealer tags came into view and was gone as fast as it was there. We both started to laugh, because obviously someone stole this car off the lot; it still had smiley-faced balloons tied to the antenna.
Well, at least there were three people still alive out there. That brought me some hope. “Dude, do you have any chisels in there?” Ryan asked, pointing to my construction bags. I had a head-slapping moment when I produced a small file that I used to sharpen saw blades. Ryan took watch and I started to file away at the lock. That was pretty fucking tough, so I started to file away at the chain. After ten minutes, I was through one link and the gate was ready to be opened. Damn, keeping my construction bags had been a damn blessing. We both agreed that this area was a good spot to fall back to, so we hung the chain up again so it looked like it hadn’t been tampered with. If we made it to my house and got a good vehicle, we could come back here and nab supplies.
I’m glad this Ryan guy is thinking like me right now. I can’t believe I’ve never seen this guy before. Turns out, his boss was an ultra-conservative asshole that didn’t like long hair. He made Ryan work in the back and never let him out front. Ryan had a Bachelors in Arts, but as he explained, “Nobody appreciates art anymore,” so he was never able to ply his trade as an artist. He has spent a lot of time out in the woods with his girlfriend, and he admitted to me that he spent a year in jail because of some hippie protest things.
I liked this guy.
We made our way to a parked car and we were both freaked out when we saw a woman still inside it. She had been bitten on the neck and must have climbed into this car to save herself. She died in there and now it was full of blood, shit, and piss. She had been fighting against the seatbelt and it had cut into her neck and stomach area; she must have buckled up before she left this world. Lifelessly, she pushed her face against the window and opened and closed her mouth. Snot and blood left streaks on the window and I felt my stomach churn for a second.
“I’m not driving that thing. Why couldn’t she have died in the backseat?” Ryan complained out loud. I looked to him and he immediately looked ashamed of what he just said. He mumbled an apology and rested the shotgun on his shoulder. I looked back down to her and shook my head at what I saw. The worst part was that I agreed with him, and that made me feel like a big piece of shit. This woman probably died a painful, lonely death and I’m mad that she died in the driver’s seat of HER car. I hated myself.
“Let’s see if we can find another one,” I said. We started to walk away and the horn began to honk. We both jumped and ran back to the vehicle. Was someone else in there? I thought. The horn stopped and the dead woman was now pushing her hands against the window.
“She’s dead. She’s not smart enough to honk a horn. We walked ahead of her and she tried to crawl towards us. Right?” I said to Ryan. Hell, I said that more to myself then I did to Ryan. I didn’t want to think these things could get smart on us. If they did that, we’d all be dead for sure. Ryan shrugged and then his jaw dropped. He pointed down the street and I snapped my head to see what got his attention. Through the heat waves on the asphalt, I could see the outline of a mob heading our way. The horn had alerted them. Dammit.
“We need to kill her, or she’s going to draw more of them,” Ryan said. He aimed his shotgun towards her and I shook my head at him.
“Wait, I got an idea,” I said as I holstered my weapon and pulled a nail out of my bag. I held it up to the window where she was gnawing at us and then swung my hammer. Just like I had planned it, I drove the framing nail right into her skull and she died instantly. She had a few “death twitches”, but the nail was firmly in her forehead and the driver's side window. I was amazed it didn’t shatter. I bet I couldn’t do that again.
“Let’s go before those get here.” I motioned towards the mob with my hammer. We both ducked down and moved up the street, placing that car between us and them. I redrew my pistol and replaced the hammer in its holding spot. We got to a corner and placed our backs to it. I poked my head around and saw that there were a few stragglers out in the street. It looked like another car accident had taken place here. Seriously, I wonder how many of these things got their start from car wrecks. People run up to see if their okay, they pull them out to administer first aid, and then BAM! They are zombie chow.
“Did the ones behind us stop at the car?” I whispered. Ryan nodded his head and looked back to me “Yeah, they literally stopped right where the sound came from. How’s it look over there?” He asked. I was still assessing the situation and saw that there were now five zombies stumbling around. My eyes caught sight of something glorious: a police cruiser was there and its door was wide open. I honestly thought I could hear the engine still running from here, but there was no way that I was that lucky. I leaned against the wall again and then smiled at Ryan as I formed a plan in my head. After a brief moment, I spoke.
“So, there’s a cop car over there… but there’s also five dead guys standing around it. Probably twenty yards out. I think it’s still running, that’s why they are standing there.” I turned away from him and pointed at my backpack. “I got a soda in there, I’m going to shake it up and then throw it as far as I can. Hopefully the thing will make enough noise to distract them. Can you get it for me?” Ryan unzipped me and pulled the can out. He seemed onboard with my dumb idea, so maybe that meant that it would work.
I shook the can and stepped out from behind the wall. With a soft grunt, I chucked that can like my name was John Elway. It sailed beautifully past the cop car and landed with a “splishhhh” sound as it exploded on the road. The undead looked in its direction and started towards it, that’s when I noticed that one of the walkers was a cop. I couldn’t believe it, it fucking worked!
I counted to ten-Mississippi in my head and then I made my break for it. Ryan was hot on my tail and we made good time as we rushed the cop car. The engine still ran, which was a win for us. I pulled my pistol up and inspected the opened door to make sure that there was nothing sitting in the driver’s seat. There was a little bit of blood on the microphone and police issued shotgun, but nothing dead in the front seat. I did a fist pump and Ryan ran around to the other side. He stopped in his tracks and started to back pedal, and then he fell down out of my sight. My heart dropped as I jumped up on the hood of the car to see what had happened. Ryan started to scream as an undead kid was clawing his way up his pan
t leg. It had started biting him through his pants, but I wasn’t sure if it was breaking skin or not. I jumped off the car and holstered my gun. I reached down and grabbed the kid by the waist and then did a suplex-type move to throw him away. The kid slammed into the light pole behind us and I spun around to see if he was coming back towards me. The kid was trying to turn himself over, but both of his legs were broken and he was having difficulty doing so.
My best guess is that the cop ran over this kid and got out to help him. Then the kid died, came back to life and then bit the cop. Snowball effect from there and BAM! We have a street with dead people on it and they all were heading our way because Ryan was still freaking out. I couldn’t quite understand him, but I could tell that he was relieved to only see bruising and no blood on his leg. Hooray for polyester! I drew my sidearm and decided that enough was enough. My first round went through the cop's head. The second and third rounds probably went through the kids family members. The next two sailed wide right, but I gained control of my shots again and dropped the last two zombies with ease. Ryan stood up and fired a shotgun round into the kid, thank heavens I didn’t see it. I haven’t had to shoot a kid yet, but I know that’s going to happen sooner than later.
“Get in the car!” I shouted. Ryan nodded and climbed inside the passenger seat. I ran over to the zombie cop and pulled his weapon off of him. I then undid his tactical belt and yanked it free. I now had two pistols and some spare ammo. I could give it to Ryan, and he’d be set up as well. This was a good find.
Unhappy Endings Page 17
