by Zuko, Joseph
“Don’t do it.” Frank begged and pushed her gun away from the unconscious man’s skull. “Go be with your girls and let me handle him.”
Karen heaved in gulps of air. Her eyes looked black and soulless.
“I know you want to hurt him, but you look like one of those monsters outside. Don’t be like them and do not allow yourself to turn into him. Now go tell your girls they are gonna be okay.”
Frank hooked his arms under Karen’s and lifted her off Eric. He set her upright and helped slide her pistol back into its holster. “Go,” He nodded at the bathroom door. “I’ve got him.”
It took Karen a half minute to get back to her normal. The rage had taken over, but she knew Frank was right.
The gunfire outside was trickling off.
“What’s going on out there?” Frank asked as Karen stepped for the closed door.
“We have company,” Karen turned the knob and disappeared into the bathroom.
The bus tires crushed the fallen bodies into paste as it eased closer to the house. They rolled by a van that was modified with sheets of metal.
“Look at that,” Shawna said as she pointed toward the passenger’s side of the van. It was riddled with bullet holes and six bodies sat in the vehicles seats. “There are children in there.”
“What happened?” Charlie asked as he filled a mag with fresh rounds.
Straight ahead of them was a PT Cruiser. The front end of the Chrysler looked like Swiss cheese. Corpses laid in every direction. The front yard and all along the edge of the house were stacks of bodies piled five high.
Dallas noticed the bullet holes at the back of the black truck. It didn’t take him long to piece together the events. Blaine came to a full stop and killed the engine. He stood up, put his keys in his pocket and picked up his rifle.
“All right guys, let me do the talking. Dallas, why don’t you hang here for a bit. Guys your size can make people… nervous. Watch our backs from the bus.” Blaine slid open the bolt on the bus door. He kept the gun tight to his shoulder and stayed focused as he exited the rig. The others fanned out behind him.
Dallas waited by the war rig’s door. This wasn’t the first time his size had been an issue for him. He lost count how many times a drunk asshole had come up to him at a bar, wanting to fight, just because he was the biggest in the room and it made sense for him to keep an eye on them from the street. A hired muscle, bodyguard type, walking up to the door with an assault rifle did send the wrong message. He scanned the entire house. All of the windows were barricaded. He bet the front door was sealed off as well. It would be the only way to keep this many infected from busting it in. Dallas rubbed his sore knuckles. It had been years since he had punched anyone in the face. He had forgotten how much it hurt. He felt like such an idiot. He could have broken his hand.
“If I break my trigger finger I’m as good as dead out here.” He turned his hand into a fist a few times and his joints burned, but the pain was manageable. He slid a toothpick from his pocket and worked some plaque off his teeth as he watched the team head up the driveway.
The closer Blaine got to the house the harder it was to find a dry patch of grass. Limbs, torsos and heads laid across the ground like a thick blanket. He passed the back end of the truck and found a stack of chopped bodies. He recognized the clothes on the diced body parts. This was Eric’s team and they weren’t eaten by the infected. It looked like someone hacked them up with an axe. A severed head from one of Ranger Two’s crew was next to the front door. Spent shells were sprayed all over the ground and their rifles laid next to the truck.
There was no hiding Shawna’s anxiety when she asked, “What do you make of all this?”
Blaine was no Batman, but it was not that difficult to snuff out what happened this morning.
Blaine explained to the others how it went down. “Our guys fired at the two vehicles.” He aimed at both the PT Cruiser and the van. From this vantage Blaine spotted the blood inside the Cruiser and the van.
Theo got in Blaine’s ear and kept his voice low. “They shot the kids?”
Blaine searched for any of Eric’s remains. “That’s what it looks like.”
“Why the hell would they do that?” asked Charlie.
Shawna put her back to the carnage in the van. “Maybe they were shot at first and didn’t have a choice.”
“Possibly.” Blaine mulled it over as he scratched at the side of his skull. He wished to God he was back on the bus and racing away from this place. It felt cursed. When Blaine was in college he took a trip to Germany to visit a foreign exchange student friend he had made in high school. On the trip he did a tour of the local concentration camp just outside of Berlin. Blaine loved history and World War II was extremely fascinating to him. He remembered the feeling that hit him the second he stepped into the camp. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, his skin became covered in goosebumps and he felt surrounded by ghosts. This neighborhood gave him the same sensation.
The whole scene didn’t make sense. Why would people shoot at five heavily armed men and what reason would they have to wipe out a whole family?
Shawna tapped at Blaine’s elbow and woke him from his trance. “I don’t see Eric out here. What should we do now?”
Theo motioned toward the door. “Should we knock?”
A booming voice came from overhead. “That won’t be necessary.”
The four of them craned their necks and looked up to the roof of the garage. The top of a man’s head poked through the hole and a rifle was aimed at them.
Blaine aimed his rifle at the ground and put his other hand in the air as he said, “Howdy, neighbor.”
Frank slid a cigarette between his lips and struck his lighter. Blood trickled from Eric’s wounds and drizzled red along the side of the bed. A pool forming on the carpet below had doubled in size in the last thirty seconds.
“Won’t be long now, you prick,” Frank blew a cloud of smoke from his lungs and dropped some ash on Eric. He pointed his revolver at the maniac and said, “I should end you right now,” but shooting an unconscious man didn’t sit right with Frank. Monster or not, he was still a man. If he waited a little longer the fucker would turn, then he could empty his gun, reload and empty it again without any goddamn remorse.
“I’ll finish this cigarette and send you on your way. Then you can be your true self in hell.”
Karen clutched the girls to her chest. The little ones poured snot and tears onto her shirt as she comforted them. She heard Frank talking through the door. Eric’s number was up and it was only a matter of minutes before he’d be put down. Karen couldn’t wait to hear the sound of his revolver. That’s when it hit her.
I’m looking forward to someone’s death?
Tears formed in her eyes.
I think I’m broken.
She had buried her mother that morning, fought tooth and nail for her life and almost witnessed the death of her babies. It was too much. Her logic, emotions and sanity had been pushed past the breaking point and Karen was afraid there was no going back.
Jim had the man with the Forest Gump haircut in his crosshairs. He recognized him from Brother Paul’s church.
If Gump is here, does it mean that muscle head, Toothpick, is sitting in the bus with a gun aimed at me?
Jim glanced out the corner of his eye and yep, Toothpick was there and had a rifle aimed at Jim’s head.
Shit, that guy shot a moving target at twice this distance.
Double shit.
Gump gave Jim a big smile and said, “Hey, I remember you. It’s Jim, right? We met yesterday. Well, we didn’t get to properly meet, I’m Blaine and this is Shawna, Charlie and Theo.” Blaine pointed at the corpses. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” He forced a little laugh. “Where’s the rest of your group? Inside?”
Jim hunkered down further into the hole in the roof to get out of Toothpick’s line of sight. “What do you want?”
Blaine kept smiling as he shook his ind
ex finger in Jim’s direction. “Right to the point, good, well we are here in a friendly capacity and on a rescue mission. Have you come across someone by the name, Eric?”
“I have.”
“Is he… around?”
“Last I saw him, he was still breathing. My wife beat the shit out of him after he tried to rape her.” Jim wasn’t sure why he was fanning the flame, but it felt kind of good to rub their nose in the fact that their ‘friend’ was a piece of shit.
Jim noticed the look of confusion and disgust from the people below. It was pretty obvious they didn’t know about Eric’s sick needs.
Blaine didn’t miss a beat, “Well he sounds like a pretty rotten guy. We can do you another solid and take him off your hands, if you’d like.”
“Another solid?” Jim asked.
“We cleared out the rest of these creepers for you and if you need any medical supplies or extra ammo, we’d be happy to share. What do you say?” Blaine kept his grin ear to ear.
Jim contemplated the offer. Nothing about them felt sinister and they didn’t seem to have an ulterior motive. Maybe Eric was the black sheep at their church and just happened to be the leader’s brother. Why else would they risk so much for only one man? There seemed to be no downside.
Eric becomes their problem.
We get some extra ammo.
Win, win for both sides.
Jim aimed his rifle into the sky and pointed at the black truck. “We’ll keep those guns and that ammo along with the truck, in exchange for your man. Does that sound fair?” Jim didn’t want to come off as greedy, but he also didn’t want them to think he was a pushover.
Blaine nodded and said, “That’s acceptable.”
Jim yelled down into the roof’s hole. “Go ahead and open it.”
A second later the garage door began to rise.
Blaine and his team made their way around to the opening door. The rest of Jim’s crew was there, waiting for them in the garage. Jim made it halfway down the ladder when he said. “You should have your other man come on in too. No sense in leaving him out here. If more of those zombies show up you don’t want to be out on your own. Plus you might need his help to carry your man. I’m not gonna lie. Eric’s pretty banged up.”
Blaine waved at the bus. “Come on Dallas.”
Jim looked around the garage and there was still no Frank or Cliff.
Where the hell are those guys?
Jim would have preferred to have everyone out here so these people knew they were outnumbered.
Cliff panicked when he heard the garage door opening.
Jim’s letting those people in?
He wants them to take me away and kill me.
So he doesn’t have to deal with me anymore.
He tried to be calm and remain silent. The room he was hiding in was cramped and full of all kinds of crap. Which made it impossible to move. He had left the light off so they wouldn’t see him. Cliff stood in utter darkness and wished there was more time to grab something other than the machete sitting by the front door. A gun would have been a much smarter move.
Cliff was no coward. Even though he had spent all morning thinking about killing himself, so he could be with his family, he realized he wasn’t ready to die.
Tina wouldn’t want me to take the easy way out. She would demand that Cliff stay alive and make sure nothing bad happened to Jim and Karen’s children. He knew Tina would say something like, ‘Your skills as a carpenter and your heart are needed in this world, more than ever. Be strong, be brave and I’ll see you again someday.’
Cliff fought against the tears that threatened to blur his vision. If they did find him hiding in this closet, he needed to be able to see clearly, because there was no way in hell they were taking him without a fight.
Jim led the way into the house as the garage door shut behind them. Everyone was on edge, but no one wanted a fight. He headed straight for the living room. There was no reason to dally. He wanted these people out of the house and on the road as fast as possible.
Jim rounded the corner and found the room empty. “What the hell?”
The big man they called Dallas entered the room behind Jim. “Where is he?”
The two of them spotted the blood stain on the couch at the same time.
The others entered the living room.
Jim spoke as calmly as possible. “I promise you, he is here. They must have taken him to use the restroom.”
The room felt hot and there was a charge of paranoid electricity coursing though everyone.
Blaine nodded in agreement. “Everyone stay calm. We don’t want any trouble. Jim, lead us to the bathroom.”
Jim headed out of the living room and for the hall.
Dallas stayed close to Jim as the man led him toward a narrow hallway. The house was dark. With every window boarded up there was no natural light. The front door was blocked by five hunks of lumber. Blood and gore was sprayed everywhere in this room. It looked like a movie set on a horror film.
His heart pounded in his ears and he kept his finger looped around the trigger. This tiny hallway felt like a trap. All the doors were shut except for the one that led to the bathroom.
Jim clicked on the light. The mirror was shattered and drops of blood were all over the counter.
Jim entered the room and investigated the busted mirror, “What the fuck?” He looked back at the big man as Dallas ducked under the door way to check out the mess.
Dallas’ patience was wearing thin. “Where is he?”
Frank heard the strange voices coming from the hall, but he couldn’t leave the room. Not yet. Eric was about to turn.
The unconscious body on the bed had begun to shake. The familiar signals that the infection was taking over the body were right on cue. It was only a matter of seconds now and Frank was ready to put this bastard out of his misery. Eric’s body tensed, his lips tightened. Teeth exposed. His eyelids opened at the last second and both orbs were black.
Frank squeezed the trigger and the back of Eric’s skull painted the bedroom wall.
The gunshot made Karen jump. She knew it was coming, but it scared her just the same. She cried. Not tears of joy or sadness, but loss. She felt her grip on reality slipping away. She wanted that man dead and that was not a feeling she had ever experienced before. Frank took care of it and the monster was destroyed. Karen thought it was going to give her a feeling that justice had been served, yet all she felt was empty. A veil had been pulled over her soul and she was shrouded in darkness.
Chapter 24
Dallas flinched, backed out of the restroom, stomped for the bedroom door, kicked it open and recognized the man with the revolver standing over the dead body. Eric’s face had been beaten horribly and blood was everywhere. A chunk of skull fell from the soaked crimson wall and put an exclamation point on how violently he was snuffed out.
The older man turned, raised his empty hand and said, “It’s not what-”
Bang!
Dallas shot him in the face.
Jim stood in the hallway behind Dallas, and witnessed everything. He screamed, “Frank!”
It was too late. Frank’s body was thrown to the floor by the force of the shot. Jim’s mind went blank. He wasn’t thinking straight. It was like his father had been gunned down in front of him. Jim hadn’t known Frank for more than a day, but they had fought so many of those zombies together he felt they had as strong a bond as any family member. A kinship similar to what soldiers must feel for each other after they survive a battle together.
Jim was on autopilot. He felt his legs turning and noticed he was moving closer to the door. He didn’t know why, but he had an urge to get to Frank’s body and see if he was okay. As he attempted to pass Dallas the big man turned and started to aim his rifle at Jim.
“They killed Eric,” yelled Dallas.
The seven others turned and faced each other. Sara, Troy and Leon were standing in the center of the living room.
Blaine, Charlie, The
o and Shawna were closer to the foyer and hallway.
Guns raised.
Panic ensued.
The truce had fallen apart faster than expected and all they knew was, one person from each of their groups had been murdered.
Sara, Leon and Troy pulled back into the living room and ducked behind some furniture.
The others raced for the kitchen. Each side was terrified of the other and both opened fire at the exact same time. A barrage of rounds ripped through the dividing wall that separated the two rooms. Plumes of sheetrock exploded throughout the living space. Splinters of wood flew through the air. Blaine and his crew crashed into the kitchen cabinets and continued to blind fire into the other room. Amazingly no one was hit by a single shot.
The blast of rounds from the other side of the house and the mountain of a man in front of him got every ounce of adrenaline flowing in Jim’s veins. His rifle hung at his side and there was no time to raise it and defend himself. Dallas was a fraction of a second away from having a bead on him. All Jim could do was drop the rifle and catch the barrel of Dallas’ gun before it went off. Again Jim’s speed was his greatest allay. Dallas had the size and strength, but his movements were that of a lumbering giant.
One of the best parts of Jim’s Krav Maga class was when they practiced disarming someone with a gun. He had run this same exact drill so many times Jim didn’t have to think about what he was doing. Before Jim’s rifle hit the floor he had one hand wrapped around Dallas’ firearm, pushing it away from his torso. Dallas squeezed off a round and it whizzed an inch from Jim’s shoulder. Jim then landed a palm strike to Dallas’ nose. Breaking the cartilage and blinding him for a moment as Jim twisted the rifle from Dallas’ hand. Jim pressed the release button on the rifle and the mag dropped into his palm. He tossed it to one corner of the room while throwing the rifle to the other. Jim was furious about Frank’s death, but before he could say a word and attempt to defuse the situation Dallas lunged at him. Jim took a fighting stance. He didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, but this big guy wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
