by Mark Clodi
“What the fuck.” Max said softly while continuing to watch. He noticed several more pulses until all the shamblers to his right all stopped in a line parallel to the tree line. With growing excitement he realized what he must be seeing was the ‘leader’ giving the lesser zombies orders. Redoubling his efforts to break into the super zombies mind didn’t get him inside its head, but when the next pulse came out Max felt it clearly, it said, ‘Move’. The order sprang from the super zombie and raced towards the waiting zeds to the right. Max grabbed the message, and time seemed to slow down as he disseminated it. Then he changed it.
It was a gut reaction, nothing Max would have done had he had time to think about it. He changed the message to ‘Move further right’. The shamblers all headed off that direction along the inside edge of the woods. Max was really excited now, he thought he had unlocked a way to force the zombies back and proceeded to issue them new orders, to head back into the woods, to attack the supers, to stop…it all amounted to nothing. No little blue data packet flew from Max’s head out to the shamblers. He couldn’t create a message on his own.
The super realized something had gone wrong and sent another pulse along to his minions; the second time around Max snagged it easily and reinterpreted it to ‘Move back into the woods’. He was disappointed that he could not send out orders of his own, but this was new, and useful. It came as a complete shock when the padlock flew up from the gate and belted him in the side of the head.
“Holy fuck!” Max yelled, thinking, ‘one of them is telekinetic!’ It took him a moment to realize that no one had flung the lock at him using telekinesis, the lock had merely been shot with a rifle and bounced into the side of his head. While he was so busy keeping an eye on the super zombies messages one of them had moved forward far enough to take a shot at him with a rifle.
Over at the fuel pump, the others were running towards the fence closest to the woods raising their rifles and firing randomly into the trees.
“What?” Max wondered, then he heard Stewart yelling at him to get down. Max fell to the ground out of sight as another bullet whizzed by in the place he had been standing a moment before.
A volley of gunfire rolled out of the woods, forcing his friends to take cover behind the equipment in the work yard. Max had thrown himself down behind a pile of what looked like rail road ties sitting just inside the gate. Reaching out he intercepted yet more orders for the shamblers and twisted them to his own end. The orders were coming so frequently that Max didn’t have time to do more than change them to basic marching orders, he settled on directing the zombies to head back into the woods away from his position. Max safely watched the rest of the physical fight unfold while constantly shifting the super’s orders to the shamblers.
The return gunfire was more accurate than Bill liked, it must be true that the zombies could see the living through obstacles, not that he had doubted Max’s word. He looked over at his companions, then beyond them for a moment to where Max was laying with his eyes shut forty feet away. No one was hurt yet. Thoughts of how to proceed were spinning through his head when he heard Stewart swear.
“Fuck. I liked that water bottle you assholes!” her hip was dripping where a bullet had caught the bottle in her belt pouch. “Indestructible my ass.” Stewart muttered looking at the broken piece of plastic. She caught Bill’s gaze and nodded, “So? Ideas?”
“Get in the cars and drive?”
“We need to fuel up.”
“Oh shit.” Bill said, looking behind them at the fuel tank and the three squad cars. The pump was not powered, it was a simple gravity pump and he had left it in the tank of his car, as he watched the fuel filled the tank and then started to pour out onto the ground.
“Go fix that cowboy, I’ll run interference.”
“Wait! Stewart!” Ruben cried, a moment too late.
The woman took a short leap to the top of what looked like a blue delivery van, it was an impressive jump from a kneeling position and she didn’t stop there, she ran down the length of the van and vaulted over the six foot high chain link fence and into the woods. Bullets tried to catch her as she flew, but they were microseconds too slow. Bill paused to watch Stewart’s progress open mouthed. Ruben was more practical; he ran back to the overflowing car and shut the pump off.
“C’mon Bill!” the old man yelled shutting the fuel tank. He ran around to the driver’s side and pulled the car twenty feet forward. Bill was still staring at him open mouthed when he got out.
“Bill, move the other car up!” Ruben yelled.
Spurred to action Bill raced towards the second cruiser and hopped in, the keys were still in the ignition and he pulled it forward until Ruben could slot the nozzle into the tank to begin filling it up. After getting the pump open he ducked down to the pavement taking cover from the sporadic bullets flying out of the woods. He still couldn’t see anything to target.
Bill shut the car off, engaged the emergency brake and ran back to Stewart’s cruiser. Thankfully, she had left the keys in the ignition. He moved her car up until it was touching the bumper of the cruiser being fueled. With any luck Ruben could fill this one up without having to move either of them again.
From the woods the gun fire was intensifying. No more bullets were flying their way, Bill looked at Ruben and yelled, “You think you can handle this?”
“Sure, go help her.” Ruben yelled back.
Bill ran towards the exit where Max was lying, stopping just inside the gate and using the thick square-cut logs as cover. “What are you doing?”
“I’m concentrating. I can…do things to them Bill.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can change what they say to the shamblers. I am making the weak zombies go away. It’s hard to explain. I kept trying to do what Aubrey said, just kept looking at them and I can see them when they talk to each other.”
“Ah, yeah, okay. That’s…good?”
“It is. There is more to it than that, I can change it sometimes. I think I made it so the slow zombies won’t eat us.”
“Max, can we talk about this later? I need to know where Stewart is.”
“She’s in there. With them.” Max said, gesturing, eyes still closed, to the woods.
“We should go help her.”
“I am helping her!” Max said, exasperated.
“So she is alive?”
“She is thriving.”
Chapter 28 – Stewart
The jump to the top of the van had come as a shock to her. Stewart didn’t think she could go that high, she had been aiming to hop on the sloping hood and then jump up to the top from there. The idea had been to use the van to get over the fence, instead of running the long way past Max. After her injuries she had felt slow as if treading through molasses. She hadn’t tried to use her speed and strength since being hurt, she was afraid the abilities were gone, that maybe she had just been hyped up on adrenaline and was suffering from mis-remembering. She hadn’t shared her fear with the others either. ‘Trial by fire. Don’t abuse it. Conserve.’ Those were her thoughts.
Now she wondered why she had waited so long. Like Max her abilities had a conscious element to them. There was a constant vibe that beat through her body, just begging to be tapped into. When she dipped into it she felt so much more alive, so much stronger, she felt invincible. For these reasons Stewart tried to rein in what she was feeling. She tried to ride the beast, instead of letting it ride her. She remembered the fight with Ella. More importantly she remembered Ella. The woman had been alive and had been taken down by an old man with a knife, he had assessed the situation and used Ella’s desires against her. If Ella could be so attracted to blood and killing that it led to her downfall…it almost went without saying that Stewart could have the same weakness.
Still when the bullets started flying at her she didn’t hesitate to give the beast she was riding a little more freedom. Raw, animal instinct took over and she spun sideways into the tree line, barely avoiding the
projectiles that were flying out at her. Stewart ducked and rolled forward towards the only super zombie she could see, her speed and trajectory took him by surprise and he had barely begun to shift his rifle to aim at the woman lying on the ground by his feet when she kicked straight up, knocking his rifle skywards. Stewart still had her rifle, it was cradled in both arms and parallel with her body, with the barrel towards her head. When her foot came down, the barrel came up, three shots rang out in quick succession and the zombie’s head deformed under the onslaught.
This brought his friends out of the woodwork. To Stewart’s left two women, with clear, shining eyes rushed into view and stopped when they saw her. On her right three burly men, looking like lumberjacks coming home from work stepped out of the brush. The five lowered their rifles towards her in uncanny unison and Stewart shouted, “Surrender and you don’t have to die!”
“I’m gonna eat your pussy lady and not in the good way!” shouted one of the super zombies, pulling the trigger on his rifle. Stewart bucked sideways and rolled to a crouch, the bullet hit the ground where she had been laying, kicking up leaves and sodden twigs.
“She’s fast.” The older woman murmured, “All together.”
But they didn’t fire in unison, the woman giving the orders fired and Stewart rocked sideways, bringing her own rifle around, firing as it pulled into line. The younger woman crumpled as at least two bullets hit her in the shoulders, the older woman’s shot caught Stewart right in the stock of her rifle, ricocheting into the ground and splitting Stewart’s rifle into pieces. Stewart tossed the rifle butt at the lead man, who attempted to block with his own rifle, but was too slow.
Stepping downhill, Stewart lunged for the concealment of a large, leafy bush, and then stumbled over a log to the ground. The zombies behind her riddled the air just above her head with bullets.
‘This was a good idea?’ she thought to herself, ‘Of course it was, the others will be here soon.’
Reaching to her belt Stewart grabbed for her pistol. The holster was empty. With her left hand she pulled the short combat blade from her belt. Another thought struck her and she reached to her back and took comfort in the hard, plastic grip of the machete, still tucked into her belt.
Pulling the blade out with her right hand she got up on her hands and knees to assess her situation. More bullets peppered the ground around her.
‘Zombie vision, no fucking fair assholes!’
Stewart shoved herself down the hill at a slant that would bring her closer to where the women were than the men. Sure enough the shoulder shot girl had been trying to make her way around Stewart’s flank. By the time Stewart saw her, the woman was already aiming her rifle.
The bullets flew in a burst from the gun and Stewart gave in fully her instincts. She didn’t escape unscathed; one bullet grazed her thigh, a deep, bloody wound, that adrenaline surged to overcome. Stewart didn’t drop to the ground; the other zombies would be coming for her and she doubted she would have time to recover before they were on her.
‘It’s like I am riding in the backseat of a fast car.’ She thought, trying to keep up with what was going on. If anything it appeared to her that the zombies were moving slowly, as if slightly drugged, the bullets moved faster than she could see, but she could tell from how the zombie angled the gun where they would strike. All she had to do was keep out from in front of the hole in the barrel. ‘So, in other words, do what every other person faced with a gun has ever wanted to do.’ Easy.
Dodging behind a sapling Stewart zigged back and closed with the older woman zombie, knocking the rifle from her hands hard enough to bend the barrel. She followed through with her knife hand jabbing the blade towards the other woman’s chin. The zombie seemed to catch herself, as if awakening from a dream. She swept her arm upward and Stewart’s jab hooked the side of its head instead, leaving a wide gash from just below the right ear to the top of its skull. With her other hand the zombie swung the rifle as a club, something Stewart blocked with the machete.
Stewart sidestepped; the zombie turned and faced her, both women thrust out with their limbs. A jab with a knife to the zombie’s torso did little, a fist to Stewart’s shoulder slide off of her like water from a duck. Finally after a series of fisticuffs that accomplished little Stewart pivoted and swept the Zombie’s feet out from under her. By this time the rest of the super zombies had closed and were standing, gawking in a loose semi-circle around the two, their guns slack and not aimed at anything in particular.
When the lead zombie went down the others reacted slowly, trying to pull their guns up to take a shot. Stewart didn’t give them a chance and lunged into the man on the left leading with an overhand swing of her machete. The zombie, a hefty, six-footer, was barely able to get his arms up in time, blocking the blow using the rifle held in his hands. Stewart’s heavy blade cut through the rifle and split the zombies head like Moses parting the Red Sea.
With her knife hand Stewart thrust into the other woman, hitting her again in the shoulder and knocking her backwards down the hill into the trees.
Stewart heard the gunshots before she felt the pain, her knife arm convulsed and she lost the blade as the zombie fell backwards. More angry than hurt, Stewart threw herself sideways and lashed out blindly with the machete that had served her well so far. The next zombie in line, lost an arm just below the shoulder. He reeled back and fell to the ground, leaving his companion, the only super zombie still on its feet with an open shot.
At point blank he couldn’t miss, the rifle was lined up, sighted on her and she saw him tightening his finger on the trigger. The machete came up as he fired three times, then the hammer clicked on an empty chamber and Stewart stepped forward and took his head from his shoulders.
“No fucking way. No fucking way.” The super zombie on the ground said, backpedaling after jumping to her feet.
Stewart gave her an angry look and stepped towards her, pausing only long enough to swipe off the top of the one arm man’s head as he cradled his severed limb to his chest.
“What’s a matter? You don’t like it when we fight back?”
“What are you?” the woman whispered, still backing off.
“I’m human. What are you?”
“You’re no human. You…you deflected the bullets with the machete, no human could do that! What are you?”
“What I am is not in the mood for talking so fight or run already.” Stewart answered.
The zombie turned and fled.
“Goddamn it.” Stewart grumbled, taking aim with the machete, when she had a clear throw she tossed the blade at it. The weapon spun as it flew through the air and struck the super zombie in the head with the handle, knocking her to the ground where she lay silently.
Stewart stalked towards her and heard more zombies closing in around her.
“You ain’t got no knife this time bitch. Dodge this!” The other woman zombie, still with the knife hilt still in her shoulder was aiming at her from ten yards downhill. A shot rang out, it was the loudest rifle retort Stewart ever heard.
Chapter 29 – Katie
The house was empty. Katie had the feeling that someone had been here recently, the whole place had a strange, ‘lived in feel’. She walked through the ground floor without checking upstairs and what she found on the back porch supported her logic; a large grill and twelve canisters of propane. There was also a metal barrel in the overgrown back yard that smelled of smoke. Someone had been living here and burning their trash in the barrel out back.
This was not a coastal house, that didn’t seem to be a trend for this area. I t looked like most of the coast line was protected by a green belt which probably cut down on the damage from tropical storms. Still, the place was nice and even if you couldn’t see the ocean from the bay window overlooking the back year, there was a path leading to the beach a quarter of a mile away. Katie had pulled the jeep up into the tree line, tucking the keys inside the visor in case she needed to make a quick getaway. Surveying the back y
ard she noted that the low fence didn’t abut the neighbor’s yard. Between each of the houses was untamed woods, or so it seemed at first glance. Katie had walked to the houses on path that led between the houses and ended on a lone cul-de-sac, she chose this house on the left for no better reason than she liked the red tile roof.
The place looked expensive, the driveway was three cars wide and the garage was placed towards the street side with a spacious sidewalk leading to the front door. The door had been locked, but it had taken Katie less than ten seconds to force her way in. She was carrying the shotgun and had the .30-06 slung over her shoulder. She had enough ammo in her vest pockets to give her time to assess the situation, if she needed more, she could run back to the jeep. Her other rifle was still stashed in the gym bag, which she had left inside the woods a short distance from the jeep wedged under a fallen palm tree.
“You are not supposed to be here.” The voice was sultry, accented in a way Katie had only heard before in movies and came from the patio door. If she had to guess she would place the accent as Cuban, but Katie was no expert.
Twirling she raised her gun to the threat and barely stopped herself from blasting the middle aged Hispanic woman in the doorway.
“Who are you?” asked Katie.
“Who are you?” the woman countered.
“I’m the woman with the gun, so you answer me first.”
“You won’t shoot me. He said you wouldn’t.”
“What? He who?”
