by Steven Till
Gotta go to ground, he thought as he scaled down the building and onto the street. Landing a mere three feet from a fellow zombie, he stopped and stared at the other pale creature in front of him. The dead girl returned his gaze, tilted her head to the side, let out a scream, and then turned and began to run in the opposite direction to feed on more prey.
Guess I’m part of the club. He continued down Grant, now only a couple of blocks from Steel Plaza. A cramp panged in his gut, causing him to stop. He felt a dull ache throughout his body. Maybe all the parkour he was trying out was catching up to him. Or worse, maybe he was getting hungry again. He shrugged off the pain and continued on towards the station. He stopped after only a few paces and gazed upon the horde at the subway entrance. Hundreds of infected amassed in front.
“Looks like my homie ain’t makin’ this easy,” he said to himself as he devised a way past the dead army in front of him.
CHAPTER 13 THE SUBWAY
He sat on a bench across from the abandoned train and sipped on some bottled water, trying to wrangle his racing thoughts. He worried about Evelyn. Looking back, he should have left work when she had called. As much as he hated to admit it, she was always right. Now he wished that he had just listened to her the first time. He pulled out his wallet and looked at the photo inside; the picture-perfect couple with their loyal dog Boomer.
“I’ll find my way back to you, Sweets.”
A tear escaped from his eye as he returned his wallet to his back pocket. The pounding upstairs in the lobby echoed throughout the station. It would only be a matter of time before the things managed to usurp the super secure stronghold of glass that kept them at bay. His thoughts turned to his best friend Ronnie, whom he feared met a long and painful death at the hands of the zombies outside. Even if by some miracle he was still alive, there was no way he would be able to make it to his position.
Nathan finished the water and tossed the bottle to the side. Standing up, he walked towards the train and began to look it over for a way inside. After three minutes, he gave up on finding a safety release on the doors, then smacked himself on the forehead with his palm. Oh my God, you’re an idiot Nate! Not wanting to admit his stupidity out loud to himself, he walked towards the end of the train and jumped down onto the tracks, being wary of the third rail. He wasn’t sure if the tracks were still active, but he wasn't going to take any chances.
He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of this sooner. It never occurred to him to try the inbound tunnel. It led to the same place after all. He now stood on the other set of tracks, the inbound tunnel agape with darkness. Subway. Great idea Einstein. Nathan pictured the horror movie that his life was becoming and dark subterranean tunnels were at the top of the list of things he didn't want to venture into.
He pulled off his backpack and dug inside for the heavy duty Maglite. Returning his pack to his shoulder, he flicked on the light, casting a beam into the dark tunnel ahead. A few paces into the darkness had increased his pulse rate. Then he remembered that he was now armed to the teeth and pulled his pistol from its holster. Scratching noises echoed up ahead and sounded as though they were coming right towards him. Moving the light back and forth, Nathan steadied his grip on the pistol, aiming it at the narrow ball of light that lit his way.
As he approached a bend in the tunnel, the scratching noise grew louder. Focusing the light onto the track ahead, Nate saw a flood of rats turn the bend. He stood motionless as the vermin ran by him. Once they passed, he continued on ahead, relieved that the sound wasn’t coming from a pack of zombies.
He followed the track around the curve and halted when he saw another train. It had derailed off the tracks and rested on its side, wedged into the tunnel from the cars behind, making the way ahead impassable. Shit, now I have to go back and try to get on that other train.
Turning around, he began to jog back down the tunnel. The good news was that he had only travelled about a hundred yards. A minute later, he emerged back into the station. Pistol at the ready, he scanned both platforms for any movement.
“Ronnie? You down here buddy?” he called out, not expecting an answer, but he tried to be an optimist.
His call got no response. He was still alone. Where did all those rats go? he wondered. He assumed they continued on down the inbound tunnel to the turnaround. Nathan crossed the tracks and pulled himself up onto the platform. He could still hear the crowd upstairs at the entrance, but so far, they hadn't made it inside yet. Moving in front of a set of train doors, he holstered his pistol and pulled out the machete. He wedged the blade between the hydraulic doors and began to pry. The doors opened a crack, then jammed. He tried again, but the hydraulics weren't going to let him get these doors open.
He noticed the hydraulic line running down the length of the train. Again, you’re an idiot, Nate. He pulled out the blade and gave the line a good whack. The machete severed the line; fluid immediately spurt out and down the side of the cart. He re-inserted the blade in the door gap and started to jimmy it. The door opened a crack like before, but this time, he could hear the hydraulics fail, which allowed him to force it open a little more.
BOOM! CRASH!
Nathan’s head jerked to his left at the sound of the glass doors shattering into the station lobby. He was out of time. Able to now get his hands into the door, he stowed his blade and continued to force open both sides. Droves of pounding footsteps flooded down the escalator at the far end of the platform. Screeches echoed, causing a chill to run down his spine. This is it. This is when I’m going to die.
He was almost able to fit his body through the gap. Another heave with his arms and an adrenaline rush allowed him to open the space another foot. He wedged his body in the train and grabbed his gear. As he did so, the first zombies emerged out onto the platform, and they looked angry. Most likely because it took them over twenty minutes to figure out how to break a glass door.
Giving the bags a hard yank, he was finally in the train. Nathan removed the shotgun from his shoulder. He fingered off the safety and blasted a dead teenager in the face as it approached the door. The familiar plume of blood sprayed the zombies behind her with brain matter. Immediately, they fell onto their downed comrade and began to feast on her. Loading another shell into the chamber, he fired at another dead-head as it jumped over its feeding brethren.
Nathan ran through the train car. Behind him, the horde was forcing open the door. Other zombies were walking along the length of the train, seeking another way inside. He opened the door to the next car and went through, closing it behind him as two more creatures bounded down the car he was just in. They made it to the door in two leaps and were now furiously pounding on the window glass.
He continued through the second car and reached the door to the driver compartment. Giving the latch a twist, he found it locked. The window in the door behind him gave way to the barrage and shattered. The zombie began climbing through, a horrifying shriek escaping its lips. Nathan ran at the monster and blasted a kneecap, severing the right leg. It didn’t even flinch at the pain, but instead, continued to reach out with its claws, dragging itself towards him.
He didn’t have time for this. Running back towards the front of the train, he cocked the shotgun and shot the latch, blowing out a hole in the door. It swung open. He slid into the compartment and tried to open the side door out into the tunnel. The door opened a foot, then stopped.
“Fuck, are you kidding me with this?” he cursed as he faced certain doom.
The zombie crawled on the floor towards him and was about halfway to him when two more zombies entered through the broken window. Just as before, they began to eat the fallen creature. Another five zombies entered next. Nathan fired off a few rounds at them, spraying blood all over the interior of the train car. Two of the five dropped, which caused the remaining three to stop their advance and feed. More ghouls were climbing through the window.
Nathan turned back to the side door and wedged his body into the gap to for
ce open the door the rest of the way. He doubted that the driver’s door was on a different hydraulic system than the other car doors, so it seemed as though his current predicament was shitty luck. He jammed his foot against one side of the door and tried to push with his arms. Since he couldn't squeeze into the space all the way, he wasn't able to get the leverage needed.
The zombies were finishing their meals as more of them poured through the rear door window. The car was filling up and now they remembered that there was other food on the train. Shaking back and forth, he was able to get halfway through the door. Expelling all the air in his lungs, his upper body popped through. Thinking that his legs would follow, he leaned forward to jump down to the tracks, but his machete caught the edge of the door, preventing his legs from following.
Nathan fell in the narrow gap of the doorway, his upper body flopping outside of the train as his legs remained inside. He hung there for a moment and squirmed, trying to get his legs out. It was a valiant effort, but it was too late. The dead were upon him. Claws dug into his legs, causing him to scream. He flailed and kicked, trying to get free from the carnage. He felt teeth sink into his calf. A moment later, the owner of the teeth ripped a mouthful of flesh from the bone, soaking his pants with blood. The smell of fresh human blood evoked more harrowing cries from the creatures.
The pain was excruciating, but he was able to raise himself up and grab the edge of the door with his left hand. In his right hand, he raised the shotgun and fired. The creature that was noshing on his calf muscle evaporated, freeing his injured leg. Before another zombie could take its place, he let go, pumped the gun, and then shot another burst in through the doorway. The claws which had him pinned released their grip and he tumbled the rest of the way through the gap and onto the ground below.
The dead inside the driver’s compartment howled at the escape of their quarry and began to push at the door. A couple of them were able to get their shoulders out before being crushed by the mass of bodies behind them. Shrieks emitted from the train, but Nathan got himself up and began hobbling down the tunnel as fast as his now useless leg would allow. Darkness enveloped him, as he had dropped the flashlight during his escape.
He held the shotgun in front of him, sweeping it back and forth as he limped along to keep from bumping into anything. He guessed that he made it about fifty yards before his gun jabbed into something solid, jolting him to a stop.
“Ah, fuck!” he exclaimed as the sudden change in momentum made him put weight on his defunct leg.
Reaching out with his hand, he could feel the concrete wall of the tunnel bend to the right. Continuing on, he followed the wall, keeping the gun at the ready with his other hand. The extra support the wall provided him was a tremendous help and he was able to move forward at a quicker pace. The sounds of the zombies started to fade as he distanced himself from the train. He had no idea how far down the tunnel he had to go before he would reach the exit, but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he thought of Evelyn.
“I’m on my way baby, hang in there,” he said to himself.
Up until this point, Nathan had run on pure adrenaline, but now he was getting light headed from the blood loss. He stopped and leaned against the wall and removed the belt from his pants. He wrapped the leather belt around his leg, just below the knee and right above the wound. He couldn’t see how bad the damage was, but he knew that he was in some serious shit. He needed medical attention fast, but he had to leave all his supplies on the train.
No food. No water. No first aid kit. No ammunition. No hope. He took off his jacket and removed his shirt, tearing it into strips. Taking two of the four strips, he folded them into some semblance of gauze and then wrapped the remaining strips around his ravaged calf. The added pressure hurt like a sonofabitch, but it would help with the bleeding. God what I wouldn’t give for a smoke right about now.
He continued his hobble down the tunnel. Palm, step, drag. Palm, step, drag. Palm, step, drag. Nathan laughed to himself. The sound of him shuffling through the darkness made him think of the zombie movies he loved so much; well, used to love. This day had definitely put a sour taste in his mouth for horror flicks. He continued his zombie shuffle in the dark, hoping that the end of the tunnel would arrive.
Ten minutes passed and he was in bad shape. He had paused a few times to throw up and he was feeling fuzzy in the head. Ahead, a faint light came into view. It was in front of him and was getting larger and brighter with every step. Fires from the burning South Side illuminated the mouth of the tunnel with a fiery orange. The exit. I finally made it! The mouth of the tunnel grew closer. Its edges started to blur in and out, but he kept moving. A shadow appeared at the center of the light; small at first, but it grew in size. It almost looked like a person. He hoped and prayed that it wasn’t another dead-head. He didn’t know how many shells he had left and he just couldn’t withstand another hand-to-hand assault.
The shadow kept approaching. It wasn’t moving fast; it looked like it was... walking? He stopped to vomit yet again, and when he looked up, the shadow had halved the distance to him. He squinted, trying to see a face, or some detail about the mysterious figure, but his hazy vision just made everything a shadowy blur. He stood there staring, then without warning, his legs gave out. “I’m sorry Eve,” he said. He crumpled onto the tracks, his last thought was of the woman he was to spend the rest of his life with.
Nathan Ackland was dead.
PART II
SMOKES, GUNS, AND ORIGINAL SIN
CHAPTER 14 FILL ‘ER UP
The 1991 Ford Taurus careened down the curves of Cemetery Lane. The tires squealed with every turn of the wheel. Evelyn's heart pounded in her chest and she couldn't stop herself from hyperventilating. The old man at the wheel glanced between the road and the car mirrors. Neither of them had spoken a word since they escaped the complex.
“So um, I guess I should say thank you,” she said as she gasped for air.
“No thanks needed, darlin’,” he replied, as he continued to focus on the road.
A man of few words. She held on to the door handle as the car continued to sway back and forth with the turns. They reached the end of the road and turned left onto Babcock Boulevard.
"What's your name?"
"Sam. Sam Lusce," he replied. "Apartment 19."
"I'm Evelyn, from 46."
Sam nodded with a grunt. "Pleasure to meet you Evelyn."
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We need some supplies. Those creepers chased me outta there before I could grab my bug-out bag,” was his response.
She looked out the window as the car sped on. Pockets of people ran this way and that. Large numbers of infected hunted those who fled. The sight made her think of the creature that attacked her in Julie's apartment. For the most part, the road was empty, although every now and then, an abandoned car forced the old man to veer into the oncoming lane.
She expected to see more people than she did. The various shops and bars that dotted Babcock appeared to be vacant. Perhaps they were just locked up, their owners barricading themselves in while they waited for salvation.
The car veered into a gas station and came to an abrupt stop. The old man popped open the glove box and pulled out a small revolver. Looking over Evelyn with a skeptical look, he handed the pistol to her.
“You know how to shoot one of these?” he asked.
“Sure do,” she replied with confidence. "I spent over three months training with Navy SEALs while I researched my last novel."
He gave a mixed look of disbelief and admiration. “Well, I feel safer already.”
He gave a wink, opened his door and got out of the car. “You. Get out and pump the gas. I need to run inside for something.”
“What if more of those things come for us?”
“Then you point that dangerous pistol at them and pull the trigger.”
He slammed the door before she could object, walked around the car and headed towards the mini-ma
rt. She saw him reach behind his back and pull out another pistol from his waistband. He opened the door and made his way inside. Evelyn looked around. Confident that she didn’t see any creatures, she opened the door and got out of the car. She circled around to the gas pump, opened the tank, and began to fill it up.
While she waited, she tried to sort out the jumble of thoughts that swam in her head. Her fiancé was stuck downtown and she had no idea if he was okay. A creature from Hell devoured her best friend. She had abandoned their dog and now she was fighting for survival with a gruff old man to whom she now owed her life.
The gas pump snapped, indicating that the tank was full. The noise jolted her from her thoughts and back to the present. Just then another noise made her jump. Gunfire. Inside the mini-mart, two shots fired. A moment later, Sam ran through the door.
“Get in the car. Now!” he yelled as he limp-ran towards her.
She yanked the pump out of the tank, replaced the gas cap, and ran around the car, closing her door as Sam jumped into the driver’s seat. The car roared to life and he laid about three feet of rubber as they sped out of the gas station parking lot. Looking back, she saw the gas station attendant emerge from the mini-mart; two bullet holes seeped dark blood from his chest. The clerk gave chase. She couldn’t believe how fast he was. Before long, they pulled ahead and were far in front of the danger behind them, although it didn’t look like the clerk was going to stop running.
“Are you okay? What happened in there?” she asked.
“I needed smokes. The clerk had turned into one of those dead-things so I had to shoot him. Lotta good that did.”
