by catt dahman
“Good,” Jet said.
“He got Joan out before she burned, but they both suffered second-and third-degree burns. We did what we could; they lived which was better than some, but skin grafts are a thing of the past. We had another four get out, but they died days or weeks later after being burned,” Sean explained.
“Sorry to hear that,” Matt told him.
“The conditions are partly responsible, not clean enough.”
Brad came forward to get food. “I was in the front. I have had seizures since the crash when I get over-stressed or try to run. But I’m okay. I can’t run now, so I don’t get to help hunt for food,” he said.
“We have fresh vegetables and fruit, and we have milk, eggs, and meat,” Jet said as he shared food. We grow it ourselves. Gasoline is failing, so we have horses, too.” He thought maybe telling about the food was torture, but he did want to give them something better to think about.
“Pete,” the next man introduced himself. He had lost one eye, and his face was scarred with cuts from the crash. No one bothered to ask him if Sean were the non-expert stitcher.
Sean pointed. “That’s Rob. No one else made it. Some went out in a group to find help…twice, but we never saw them again.” Rob nodded but didn’t say anything as he listened to the conversation. Once he heard there was no safe place and that this was no American military force that came to save them; he lost some of his interest.
“About a hundred thousand of those creatures are out there, moving in small hordes; they’re in the city, looking for people. We have fences and security.”
“Fences?” Terry shook his head.
“We have a mass.” A man hobbled down the stairs and joined them. “Bunch of them bastards; they followed you.”
“We followed your SOS,” Matt said, wondering why he always got the unappreciative ones. He handed the other woman, Leena, some food. “You need to get anything personal; we move in two minutes if you want to come to the compound. No one that is bitten will be admitted,” he automatically added that.
A series of hands slammed against the doorway they had entered.
“Sitrep?” Matt yelled.
“Fucking hell,” Carl yelled back in a minute. “Matt, we have a horde right on us; they had to have followed us. I’d say a hundred at the door and a few hundred on the way. No, make that a thousand.”
“Can we make the cars?”
Carl looked at the weakened people in the room. They might could, but these people have no chance, and they brought the Zs. “No, Plan B, Pak?”
“What’s out back?” Pak demanded. He came up with one Plan B, and now, they expected him to do it again?
“A little neighborhood lake,” Sean responded, “there are a boat and a barge that we kept, in case….”
“This is in case,” Matt said, “let’s move. Keep alert, and let us handle them unless they are on you.”
“I have your back.” Juan moved to point, with Matt. He was sorry he ever saw the SOS, sorry he reported it, and sorry he volunteered for this useless bunch. Then, he was sorry he thought that of the people.
The people grabbed a few things but left most of the meager possessions where they were; they didn’t amass much that needed to go and thought they would be rescued, not making a run for it. “This is the worst rescue I’ve ever seen,” Sean mumbled.
“Can you do better?” Teeg snapped, “Matt’s doing fine.”
Matt led them to the back. He knew Zs didn’t drown but wasn’t sure how they dealt with water except to float around in it and wait for a chance to bite. He shot a zombie as he ran, watching its brains splatter. Several more headed their way, and it took a lot more firepower to get the ones hurtling after them.
The people with them were slow from starvation and old injuries.
“Move.” Matt waited, firing his gun, along with the others as Steve, Leena, Pete, Sean, Emily, Carl, Pak, and Jet climbed into a boat that was used for some lazy fishing but could move faster if needed.
A very small boat was to the side and didn’t look waterproof, but they rushed Joan, Terry, and Teeg into it.
Teeg wanted to be on the barge, but he went with the couple to help. The barge was a nice one, and the rest scrambled onto it as Matt and Juan fired into the growing crowd, trying to get to them. They paused to push the boats off, almost getting over-run, then pushed the barge off, and clamored through water to jump up as the rest helped them.
“This is a young man’s game,” Juan groaned as he smiled at Matt.
Now, they were in three boats, slowly meandering away from the shore where a horde gathered, moaning.
To no one’s surprise, the zombies displayed no emotion as they waded out into the cool water, some sinking as they got in deep, and other floating while flailing and moaning at their food. None of the boats would start, so they used paddles and whatever they could find to stay together and drift away from the zombies that kept piling into the lake.
“Stink,” Emily said.
“Yep, they do stink,” Jet agreed.
“Timing, it’s all timing, and this time it sucked. Another time and this could’ve been easy and fine,” Alex stated. “I swear timing is everything. When are you due, do you think?”
“Maybe a month.”
Alex smiled but cringed inside. Her child should have immunity, but his recent experience made him nervous around childbearing.
The number of creature wading into the water was growing, and they were bumping out deeper into the lake where some floated naturally, and some vanished into the water. Fish darted in to nip at them. Given enough time, the fish might finish them off.
“They’re still here,” Joan screamed, distracting everyone as she watched them vanish into the water, knowing that they were there but hidden from sight.
She stood, despite Terry grabbing for her, looking around the little boat. Knowing that the creatures were there was similar to knowing there was a monster and not being able to see it in the dark of a room. Again, Terry reached to grab her, but his lost fingers didn’t snag her clothing.
“Sit down,” Teeg ordered. He knew the worst was about to happen and tried to draw next to the barge, but so much was going on all at once that it was hard to think.
Teeg felt the boat shift and slide, and he half stood as he leaned, hoping for the best. Juan reached for him and then rolled backwards with Teeg as he pulled him to safety.
“Come on, sit down, or get over here,” Teeg yelled at Terry and Joan as the boat righted itself, again.
Terry grabbed for Joan again, but she leaned away, causing the boat to dip and take on water. She stumbled and hit the water, just as they knew she would, but they were unable to prevent it. Several of her friends cried out.
They had to help them, but some already saw the next problem. The lake narrowed for a bridge to run over it, so people on the walking trails could cross the water before the lake widened again.
Zombies were already at the edges, moaning, standing, and pushing one another off of the bridge. Matt and some of the others were taking shots when they had a clear view. Zombies would fall on top of them if they went underneath the bridge.
Joan screamed, flailing her arms for Terry to pull her up. Blood stained the water, a sudden red around her as zombies below her began to chew and snap at her legs in the shallow lake. Terry reached, trying to drag her upward, but she was slinging her arms too much for him to help.
As he leaned far down, trying to reach her, a hand snagged his hand so that his face bounced off of the metal side of the little boat, and he flipped into the lake. That he broke bones in his face and his nose and went dizzy hardly mattered with his situation.
Pak and Carl, already fearing they were over-loaded, moved the boat away from the pair in the water, feeling guilty. If Pak and Carl were grabbed in a panic, the entire boat might be flipped as well; they didn’t know the dynamics of the floating boat. If a zombie got in, it would be just as bad for them. Not cowards, they also were not fo
olish.
Matt saw the blood everywhere; he raised his gun, and Juan and he both fired. Carl added his help, and finally both people slipped below the surface. That was the only choice. Roses of blood bloomed all over the surface of the water, and both screamed with the horrific pain of being eaten alive.
“You shot them?” Emily was standing with Sean beside her. “You can’t just kill people.”
“Sit down,” Juan ordered with his gun still raised. “You know they were infected and suffering.”
“And if you don’t get that…since you’ve been here a while…if you’re bitten, you’re infected. Period. You wanna watch those folks suffer while they get chewed up?” Carl asked.
Both sat.
Juan knew that coming here was a mistake, and he wished he had never seen the SOS sign; it was too dangerous. He doubted they could get these people out and to safety and wasn’t even sure the veterans of combat would make it back. “We need a plan. What’s Plan C, Pak?”
“We can’t go under there; they’ll fall on us,” Pak said, looking at the bridge. “There are not many on the other side yet, see? They’ve blocked their own way.”
“Let’s head to that side and aim at the ones there and the ones on the bridge, so when they fall, they’ll made a natural blockade,” Matt agreed.
More came from the side and waded out into the water. If they didn’t get out fast and on the other side, there would be no chance. As it was, there was a slim hope to get out of this.
Steve, Leena, Pete, Sean, Carl, Pak, and Jet frantically paddled to the other side, but Emily just stared straight ahead, holding her belly and rocking with shock.
Jet and Carl turned to shoot the zombies who were near the side, with the hope that the rest would gather to the far side so they could skirt around back to the vehicles they left.
On foot, they were doomed.
Sean pushed Emily ahead of him, but she stalled in the mud of the bank, losing her balance as she stared at all the moaning corpses who reached for them.
The smell alone was too much, and she gagged uncontrollably. It looked impossible. When she jerked away from Sean, she sank into the mud and fell into the shallows. A piece of an arm washed up onto the mud, causing her to shriek again, making the zombies moan in a frenzy.
“Pick her up,” Carl demanded. Why he had to give the order was a mystery to him, but people didn’t always use common sense.
Sean waded out, tripped, and then screamed as a floater moved in like an alligator, sensing prey: grabbing and biting. He fought back even as two more floated close enough to grab his arm.
Within mere seconds, his elbow yanked loose, and he wailed in agony. Hit with Sean’s torn flesh, Emily leaped forward into the deeper water, instead of toward shore. The water was almost boiling as the zombies thrashed, feeding, and rolling around. They ripped into her body, and no one could stand to watch.
Jet took a step that way, but Carl let one of his strong hands fall on the younger man’s shoulder, refusing to allow it. “It’s done.”
Pak pointed. “Up that tree, break into the place, then out of the front and back to cars.” He led them. This was Plan D.
“Says the stereotypical Asian man,” Carl grinned, “Bruce Lee.”
Pak managed a weak grin and an obscene gesture.
Matt docked the barge on the mud, and they fired into the numbers, trying to cross the bridge. There were too many. The others they came for were not in great shape with improperly healed wounds and no experience; they slowed them down considerably. Matt and Juan kept grabbing at those who were slow and pulled them along faster.
What would Len do in this predicament? Len would try his damndest.
Pak was already up the tree along a sturdy limb and almost to the balcony, making it look easy. Carl boosted Leena and then Steve and Pete.
Teeg and Alex both took branches and began to help the rest climb; it was a fairly easy climb with many hand and foot holds along the way; the branch that leaned out toward the balcony was strong and almost level, so it was easy climbing. Pak held out a hand to yank Leena up next to him.
“Keep it moving, and keep steady. Don’t look down,” Alex said, “Pak is brilliant with this plan.”
Matt, Juan, Jet, Carl, and John kept a steady barrage of bullets aimed at the shamblers, but the group knew they would run out of ammo long before all of the Zs were put down.
“Need to rush this,” Matt yelled.
Alex yanked Steve with him to the balcony and broke into the upstairs of the apartment. Pete landed next and took his gun out to help Alex clear the little area. It was empty.
“Go,” Matt ordered Jet. Brad followed him. Then Rob.
Brad made a funny noise, half a hiss and half a groan, making Jet’s scalp prickle with fear that the man was bitten and was turning.
But he saw Brad rigid, grabbed for him, knowing Brad was having a seizure, something the man said he suffered with since the plane crashed. It was a really bad time for this.
Jet lost his balance and he, Rob, and Brad fell, hitting branches as they went. Jet felt skin peel as he fell.
They landed on top of John, a sight that would have been funny any other time.
That one pause was all it took for a mass to be right on top of them.
10
Mission Juan
Matt considered just stopping: laying his gun down and getting on the ground and laughing since this entire trip was like a comedy of errors. His team and the ones he was trying to save were in a heap while Zs lunged at them; he had yet to save any survivors.
John scrambled to his feet again, but Brad was still in the midst of the seizure, so it was difficult to bash the ones close to them. Juan moved between a pair of grabbing zombies to grab Jet, raise him up, and order him to climb, ignoring the zombie that crashed into his back. “Climb; just go.”
John pounded its head violently.
Carl yanked at Rob, but the man’s legs were already being chewed even as the man kicked and screamed. Blood coated the ground. Carl turned and batted one away from Juan and shot another one close enough that brains splattered all over Brad, lying on the ground. “Go,” he ordered John.
Brad was being devoured, and nothing could be done, not even taking a second for a killing shot to end the pain. Taking in a fresh breath, Rob screamed again, but his lower half was almost shredded to the bone. The cries of pain and misery made everyone nauseated.
Shooting Brad and Rob would stop their misery, but it would cause those feeding zombies to leave them and grab the rest.
John jumped up to grab a branch before he was bitten. Matt scampered up the main tree trunk, looking for a place to hold on as zombies filled the patch of ground he once had been defending. Matt climbed faster to get out of the way; he and Carl both jumped to the balcony to shoot downwards. Juan kicked at several and climbed up last, shouting for John to hurry.
Pulling at his feet, two of the zombies tried to yank John back to the ground so they could feed. He kicked one off, but two more reached at him, taking its place. Juan settled on a branch above and reached for John to haul him up a few more feet to safety.
“I’m gonna pull you up,” Juan said. Matt was already coming back down to help pull John upward. They each had a hand as John screamed with pain, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Awe, no,” Juan whispered.
John’s grip on the men’s hands lessened. “Been a helluva ride,” he yelled, letting his head loll. Juan and Matt pulled again as John was almost pulled away from them. A zombie was halfway up John’s leg, chewing as he held on.
Carl leaned over the balcony and fired several times. “Let him go, boys.”
Matt let go first. Then John lost his grip, and Carl fired again at the ground until he nodded. “Come on up; it’s done.” They put their own men down to end the agony.
Juan and Matt climbed up. “Ya big cry baby.” Matt patted Teeg’s and Alex’s shoulders. He blinked his own wet eyes. “We almost made it.”
“It
isn’t right, their dying like that, no dignity,” Teeg complained.
“Nope. Not a bit of dignity, but they did it so we could live, so let’s get out of this shit,” Matt said.
“Let’s get a quick breath and then see how to get outta here,” Juan suggested, going into the apartment and looking around. “We can go out the front through the window, shimmy down to the ground, and run to the cars.”
“Reminds me of when Len had everyone do this to get out of the school house,” Carl and Pak began tying and testing bed sheets to make a sling to lower people if they couldn’t climb. They were going to come out the front and hopefully sneak past the moaning horde, waiting for more food to attack on the other side of the building
“That’s what? Three down? We can take them out fast before they call the rest.”
“We need to go.”
Pak, Teeg, and Alex slid down the sheet to the ground and battered the three as quietly as they could. Leena, Steve, and then Pete went down. Jet slid easily, and Carl made it look like a snap to do. Matt and Juan slid down last.
“This is okay; we can skirt around and head back on the other side, and then we should be at the parking lot. We’re gonna get out of here and back where we belong,” Pak said. “Just stay quiet, and watch all sides. We can do this.”
Pak took point with Carl now, watching for what was in front. A few times they were forced to slam their guns into zombie heads, trying to remain quiet.
They paused at the corner around the street. Several sat down. Pete sat, retying his shoe. Matt watched three dogs staring at them; all had gone feral; a pit bull, a Doberman, and a German shepherd growled as they approached the people. The dogs were hungry, mad, and scared and had forgotten friendships with humans over the past year since humans, in zombie forms, chased them to eat them.
“No sudden movements,” Matt warned.
That was a useless statement as Pete suddenly half stood and fell forward onto the edge of a storm drain in the street, catching himself with his hands but wailing loudly.
“Hey,” Carl said.
Pete slipped further into the concrete storm drain, too small for his fat body to go down. His face was surprised and confused; he was unsure what was happening to him. He yanked himself over to grip the top, hanging over the drain.
