by Ricky Fleet
Braiden and Peter straightened out, matched each other’s speed and hit the cavern entrance columns at exactly the same time. Stone crumbled as the machines pressed forward, scattering the supporting pillars deep into the cavern. They backed away quickly, not wanting to be buried with the dead and waited. Nothing happened, the capping rock stayed put.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Peter yelled, looking at Braiden for ideas.
“Hit it again!” Braiden shouted back, opening his window to be heard over the growl of the engines. He raised the blade, shifted into forward and accelerated. He hit the hard cap with a massive thud and was quickly followed by Peter who did the same, crashing into the rock face. Cracks started to appear in the stone, splintering noises heralded the roar of an earthquake as the whole structure dropped into the void. The slowest of the dead who were returning to eat the drivers were pressed flat instantly; gore pouring from their openings before rock met rock. They reversed and watched the spectacle, seeing the whole outcrop sink, sagging and fracturing as the cavern was slowly filled with Kurt still inside.
“Please be safe, Kurt!” Sarah begged, shielding her face from the plumes of dust that billowed from the forever closed cave mouths.
*********
Kurt heard the shattering impact of the first strike and climbed down into the hollow opening. After his near miss it felt like he was crawling into the throat of a waiting beast, ready to close its jaws and eat him whole. He watched in shock as the dead closed on him, totally oblivious to the unfolding destruction behind them, the inner columns were exploding under the pressure of the collapsing roof. Debris was tearing through the massed bodies and shredding flesh from bone. The ceiling would be on him in any moment so he scrambled down, concentrating on speed as well as safety, gripping each rung tightly. Something hit him on the head and he thought the whole shaft was collapsing upon him. He was going to be buried alive!
A wet, crunching noise rose from the bottom and he was hit again, on the shoulder this time. Looking around he caught sight of the zombie dropping down, still reaching for him as it fell. Kurt looked upwards at the moving rock, several more bodies toppled in before it closed the shaft off forever, spilling a thick torrent of green juice from the squashed dead. He grasped the wall, trying to minimise his target but an outstretched leg caught him hard on the head, causing starbursts behind his eyes and threatening to pull him loose. The moans from below led him to think of two scenarios, either the shattered bodies of the jumpers were still alive, or the lower tunnel was filled with the dead, waiting to greet him.
“How the Hell did I not think of that?” Kurt asked, trying to stop his vision swimming.
He held out the torch, reluctant to aim the narrow beam down to reveal the answer, but procrastinating would get him killed just the same. The torch illuminated the broken pile of festering pus. There was nothing else at the foot of the shaft; what stalked the tunnels he couldn’t know until he was down, so he descended. Nearing the base, one of the rungs broke free, loosened by the shifting rock. Kurt lost his grip and plunged backwards. In slow motion he seemed to plummet, arms outstretched trying to grab at thin air. The fall was only nine feet and the soft, flexible pile of meat saved him from any fractured bones, but his wind was knocked out. Snapping mouths writhed under his body, biting at his life jacket and he flung himself clear, jumping as if electrified, struggling to fill his stunned lungs. The hungry eyes followed him with desire, but luckily their injuries kept them immobile. The mine stretched into the distance, the burrowed rock scored and chipped from the activities of the men and machines. Light bulbs were fixed along the ceiling, but without power they were just pretty baubles. The rumbling from the cave in was too loud for Kurt to know if there was a threat waiting ahead. He stood by the pancaked evil, trying to separate the sounds.
“Just move, get your ass in gear,” Kurt ordered himself and stepped around the slopping mess of gnashing teeth. At the first intersection the torch beam blinked out, the damage from the two drops finally breaking the bulb. The darkness was absolute; he tried to hold his hand in front of his face but there was nothing there. The sound of scuffing came from his right and he had no way of knowing what caused it, he held out his hand and it sunk into a wet, spongy, mobile obstacle. It groaned.
**********
“Wow,” Braiden said, awestruck at the collapsed mine entrance.
“Braiden, Peter, get back here, we need to load up the bags and get Kurt!” John yelled from the building.
Peter rolled backwards, turned, and headed for the door. The stragglers had been destroyed by the family before they could attack, the roar of the engines was an irresistible beacon to the dead. With the way clear, they hopped between clear patches of gravel and grabbed the bug out bags.
“The bucket!” Sarah shouted to Peter and he curled it, providing a perfect place to stow the bags while they rescued Kurt.
The group gathered behind the hulking beasts, the noise of devastation had brought dozens more zombies from deeper mine shafts that weren’t part of the huge, original excavation. Arms raised, they descended, hungry for the moist flesh. Braiden and Peter pulled together to protect their family, making a steamroller eighteen feet wide. It met the small crowd in battle, battering the bodies aside and dragging them underneath the wide metal tracks. Those on foot hung back, taking cover like soldiers following tanks during war. Using the cleavers from the farmhouse they hacked at the fallen dead, severing heads and slicing brains. They reached the first branch of road that snaked downwards, following the line of the concentric circles that had been blasted into the deeper rock. A sheer drop of more than fifteen feet separated each tier and around the edges were similar cave openings. The one which Kurt should be escaping from was just ahead. More cadavers were struck, falling from the precipice and bouncing from the lower ledge before continuing down in a sickening spiral of shattering bones and spilled guts. A couple just fell to the first ring, suffering only minor injuries and standing up outside the mouth that Kurt needed to exit the depths of the caves. Sam raised his slingshot and smashed the skull of the female while Gloria picked up the gun and shot the second. The spreading buckshot pulverised the face and head, causing it to pinwheel backwards, falling to join its splattered friends at the mine floor a hundred feet below.
“Where is he, he should be here by now!” Sarah yelled, frantically looking around for any sign of her husband. The others could only look on, hoping against hope that he would appear soon.
**********
Kurt screamed in surprise within the confines of the tunnel and it echoed back to him, fainter each time. The zombie clutched at his arm, pulling him forward and trying to bite. He could hear the mouth snapping shut in the absolute blackness of the mine and held out his protected forearm, buying himself time to think. The teeth scraped the metal surface of his copper arm guard and Kurt pushed hard, forcing the zombie back to the wall. Slamming with his arm again and again he heard the crunch of pulverising skull and all strength left the animated corpse in an instant. A sudden rumble brought with it fresh shaking and Kurt stumbled, falling to the hard ground. The torch would probably have another bulb ensconced within, but he had no time to search the floor with his hands to retrieve it. He withdrew the small lighter he had pocketed when they left the farm house and prayed the falls and knocks hadn’t broken it too. Striking the flint, it lit the tunnel and he could see another fallen horror struggling to rise, it was horribly chewed and torn from the waist up. The gas didn’t ignite, so he rolled the flint again, and again, over and over. The monstrosity was caught in the strobe effect, like an old TV puppet show that required changing the pose each time, it stood and turned.
“Work, damn you!” he ranted at the lighter, fingering the adjuster on the side and striking once more. The gas burst forth, released finally, and rose brightly from the nozzle. His hand was shaking so badly that he blew the first attempt out, plunging him into darkness again with a line marked indelibly on his eyeball from the flame.
>
Kurt switched hands and reached into his belt, igniting the flame and raising the small hand axe. The zombie advanced with mouth gaping and he was horrified to see the tongue had been chewed out, only a ragged stump flapped in the back of the orifice. He took a calming breath, waited until the monster got within range, and struck downwards, embedding the blade through the front of the face and wedging in the top of the chest. He wrenched it free and the bloodied mess fell.
“Where are you?” Kurt asked the madly dancing shadows as he twisted around, trying to find the torch. It was tucked into a small niche and he pulled it free, putting it between his legs as a clamp and twisting the top off. It had a spare bulb, somewhere, just not in the torch. The small spring holder was empty and looking through the thin glass he could see the incandescent element had been burned out, it was not the new type LED torches. He decided against throwing it away for now, they may be able to secure a replacement in a hardware shop. The barking crack of the shotgun bounced down the cave on the air, helping him with his orientation. If he went right the tunnel would run for approximately two hundred feet as the crow flies.
Stepping slowly, all too aware of the fragility of the flame as the air currents pulled and tugged at it threatening to extinguish his lifeline, he made his way toward the noise. Rounding the bend he saw a figure stretched out on the ground, it was a dead zombie. Looking up he could see the brackish green blood dripping from the hanging stalactite. The flickering lighter banished the shadows and Kurt looked at the face and the split skull, the pierced brain on display. The death was fresh.
“Hah! Way to go rock,” Kurt said, giving a mock high five and pressing his palm to the cold, wet stone. The cadaver must have come blundering down the tunnel and ran its own head through on the pointed tip of the mineral deposit. It was one less for Kurt to fight at least and he moved on, the darkness receding as he neared the tunnel opening. The light improved as he turned the final corner and the bright daylight of the entrance revealed the small group of dead that had stumbled from his tunnel. They were reaching and each gunshot blew another to hell, but it was an awful waste of the ammunition. Kurt crouched low and rushed forward. Breaking into the daylight he heard the screams of joy and fear as he wielded the sharp blade, quickly dispatching the last of the zombies in a frenzy of swipes. He looked up, almost overcome with happiness to see the waiting faces of his loved ones.
“Kurt, look out!” John shouted down and he turned to the right to see thirty or more festering shamblers were nearly upon him, only forty feet away.
“Oh God,” was all Kurt could muster.
**********
“Where the hell is the rope? You were supposed to bring it!” Sarah screamed at Debbie. Why had they relied on her? It was obvious she was not one of them.
“Sorry, I forgot,” she answered nonchalantly, pulling a face that indicated she was anything but sorry.
“You bitch!” Sarah yelled and punched her straight on the chin, laying her out flat on the ground. Debbie’s eyes fluttered in her unconscious state and it was only the shouts of the others that stopped Sarah from dragging her to the edge and feeding the zombies with the poisonous bitch.
“Peter, there!” John shouted as he noticed two dead were getting near while Peter was looking down at Kurt, trying to think. He pulled the levers and swung the cab, brushing the bucket sideways and batting the zombies from the edge to go sailing to the scattered rock at the bottom of the mine. The bodies impacted and splashed in all directions, like a water balloon filled with rotted spinach coloured paint.
“What do we do? We have to help him!” Sarah was going crazy, the rope was too far away now and the clean cut, smooth sides of the cliff would prevent Kurt climbing.
“We can’t destroy that many in time!” Gloria shouted, watching the large group as they closed on Kurt.
“I can try something!” Braiden called, leaning out of his cab.
“Please save him! There are even more now!” Sam pleaded with his brother. More had started to pour from the lower shafts, converging on Kurt from both directions.
Braiden nodded and his engine roared. The dozer lurched forward, breaking lines with the excavator that Peter piloted. He continued and then pulled to the right, aiming for the edge of the cliff, the fifteen foot drop to the lower level and the sheer drop beyond. He opened the cab door, still giving full power to the machine as he readied himself for the jump. He prayed that he would make it. The faint cries of his companions didn’t break through his focus, he watched as the dozer reached the brink of the rock and the ground started to crumble under the weight of the trundling beast. Braiden roared his hatred at the dead and leaped free of the machine, hitting the gravel and rolling clear. The ground was cracking towards him, threatening to drag him down to certain death. He scrambled backwards on his bottom, kicking clouds of dust in his desperate attempts to clear the fracturing ground.
**********
Kurt looked both ways, seeing the dual hordes that would devour him. The cliff edge beckoned. The rush of air and feeling of flight, followed by instant death upon impact would be infinitely preferable to being eaten alive. He looked up at his family, ready to say goodbye, but they were preoccupied by the raging noise coming from further down. The blade of the dozer appeared over the edge above the closest group and it kept coming, the rock face shattered and collapsed, joining the dozer in a massive tumult, crashing down and sweeping the whole road clean and out into the chasm. The roar of the avalanche rung from the canyon walls, the sound of the machine hitting the bottom was like a thunderclap, causing Kurt to cover his ears.
“Watch out!” Sarah shouted down, the danger of the second crowd was growing with each step.
Kurt looked around. The upper road had been broken beyond repair, it would be suicide to try and cross the uneven surface. The loose stone would likely pitch him from the edge in a second rock slide. Stepping away towards the perilous edge, he backed into a metal surface with a gong of steel on skull. He clutched at his head and turned, seeing the lowered bucket of the digger.
“Grab it, quickly!” Peter called and Kurt gripped two of the solid ‘teeth’. Peter sat down, still watching from the cab, and pulled the lever slowly, raising the arm and Kurt with it. The bucket was fully extended when Kurt held on; if he had been closer Peter could have scooped him up like a pile of dirt and pulled him to safety. They weren’t so fortunate, and the wet teeth could still cause him to fall, which was why Peter took it slowly, desperate not to break Kurt’s tentative grip.
“Be careful!” Sarah shouted at Peter, but he didn’t need to be told. Kurt dangled from the arm, his feet swinging in mid-air, only inches from the clawed fingers of the dead who had reached him. Peter’s heartbeat pulsed in his head, drowning all other noise out. He stared at his friend, gaining strength from the look of trust in Kurt’s eyes as he rose, ignoring the cannibals beneath.
Kurt was losing his hold on the teeth. The moisture from the previous disembowelled Hellspawn and his sweaty hands combined to slide his grip free, millimetre by millimetre. The arm started its sideward swing, the edge was so close Kurt could taste it, but he was not going to make it.
“HOLD ME!” John bellowed. He reached out over the void; Sarah held his vest, while Sam held hers, Braiden then took hold of Sam and the human chain stretched as far as possible. With a cry of fear, Kurt swung, his fingers slipping completely and plunging him down toward the waiting horde. John caught the handled collar of the life vest and held on tight, the sudden weight pulled him and he dropped to the ground, hitting his chest on the hard floor. Kurt was trying to find purchase on the cliff edge, wanting to take the strain from his father’s arm which must have been agony. Peter carefully moved the bucket and provided a platform for Kurt to stand on. They paused, John still holding tight, yet able to draw breath now the pressure had been reduced.
“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt said, his heart racing. He held out his hand and cupped his father’s head, caressing the stubbled face, ecstati
c to be alive. John smiled down at his only son, proud beyond words of his bravery and selflessness.
“You’re welcome. Now stop messing around and get up here,” John stated.
Peter slowly raised the bucket until Kurt could step onto their level to safety. They all jumped for joy, hugging and crying, the close calls were becoming habit and sooner or later their luck would run out. Debbie stood away from them, alienated once more and rubbing the lump on her chin and the back of her head where it had struck the ground.
“Peter, keep us covered. A quarter of a mile will take us to the boundary. Whose idea was it to come through the mine again?” Kurt questioned.
“You suggested it, silly!” Sam reminded him and Kurt grabbed his son in a headlock, mussing his hair and laughing.
They moved on, the path clear in front but the zombies below were still agitated and gave chase. That was until they reached the damaged section of road that Kurt didn’t dare cross and the remaining stone tumbled away, taking the bodies with it. More splashes coated the bottom of the ravine and the remaining bloated, rotten monstrosities surged forward regardless of the danger, one by one toppling into thin air and dropping to the waiting rocky bottom.
“Dumbasses.” Braiden gave voice to their thoughts, brushing his clothing to get the dust off.
The occasional zombie would cross their path and Peter duly crushed them, protecting the friends who followed closely. Within ten minutes they had reached the emergency entrance and the digger just rolled straight through the gate, tearing it free and throwing it to the ground, the chain link clattering against the tracks.
“Where to now?” Peter climbed down to talk to the group.
“Straight through there.” Kurt pointed at the woodland in front of them. “It takes us to within throwing distance of the Beachwood Pub.”
