by Steven Till
“Hey Maalik, Bataviah,” Sam shouted. “You need to come up here.”
The two were already moving towards the front of the bus.
“We’ve got a big problem,” Sam continued; his voice was steady, yet his anxiety was noticeable.
Sam, Chatty, Maalik, and Bataviah peered out the windshield. Before them, the highway was completely blocked by a collapsed overpass. Combined with the wreckage from various military vehicles, their path was now impeded by an impassable wall of concrete and metal. Beyond the rubble, the broken skyline of downtown proper clawed into the sky, shrouded by an undulating veil of smoke and flames.
“My God…” Carlos whispered as he peered out through the front from behind Maalik and Bataviah.
The remaining humans eased up the aisle, taking in the view of their ruined city. Even Evelyn got up to view the ruins. Only Nathan and Ronnie stayed in their seats, having already seen first-hand the destruction. All eyes stared in silence as they took in the scene before them.
The once gleaming skyscrapers were nothing more than skeletal fingers reaching towards the heavens. The pristine glass facades had shattered from the barrage of gunfire from the air strike, leaving steel girders naked and exposed. Fires from the napalm continued to burn; the bodies of the dead fueling the last tongues of dancing flames. Thick black smoke shrouded the Golden Triangle in a blanket of foreboding gloom. The smell of death was inescapable.
Bodies, limbs, and blood littered the wall of rubble before them. There was no way around and no way through it. For the moment, their journey had ended.
Daniel glanced at his watch. 12:37 PM. It had taken them almost two and a half hours to drive a mere three miles. The debris, wreckage, and creepers that they had to contend with had made their trek absurdly slow. Panic set in.
“So now what do we do?” Daniel asked, his voice shaking. “We are so fucked! The day is half gone and now we’re stuck here out in the open!”
“Relax, son,” Sam scolded. “Let’s not get worked up just yet.”
“Agreed,” Maalik said. “We have options.”
“We need to backtrack and take the East Ohio Street exit,” Bataviah interjected. “From there we can cut through the Mexican War Streets to get to the North Shore. The stadiums are our goal.”
“I fail to see how the football and baseball stadiums are going to be any safer than where we are now,” Carlos argued.
“You are right Mr. Moreno, the stadiums will provide no haven for us. Regardless, that is where we must go,” Maalik rebutted.
“No way man,” Pete said. “It will take too long to cut through the War Streets. Christ, it took us this long to make it three miles. We don’t stand a chance!”
It was Sam’s turn to speak up. “Listen, you had said we have options, so what are our other options?”
Unflinching, Maalik replied. “The other option is we leave the bus, climb over this wall, and continue on foot.”
Voices sounded in protest as the group argued their next course of action. Evelyn continued to look out the front of the bus. She examined the wall before them, then regarded the wrecked city beyond it.
“We take the War Streets,” Evelyn declared in a forceful, yet labored voice. Despite being more articulate than when she first turned, it was still difficult to get the words out.
“These people came to save your lives. You will do as they say, or you will die here,” she continued.
Everyone fell quiet, their eyes fixed on Evelyn. Chatty turned in the driver’s seat and prepared to move the bus. A moment later he was in reverse, attempting to perform a three point turn. Nobody argued. They all knew deep down that their only real chance for survival was to trust the two strangers. Two minutes later, the bus was driving the way they had come. Luckily, the East Ohio Street exit was only a thousand feet away.
It was a little tricky making the hairpin turn at the off-ramp, but Chatty managed to navigate the turn pretty well. The off-ramp was pretty clear and in no time, they were at a stop sign. Turning right, the group entered the district known as the Mexican War Streets.
Originally called The Buena Vista Tract, the War Streets used to be the home of some of the wealthiest families in Pittsburgh during the nineteenth century. Many of the streets in the district were named after important battles during the Mexican-American War. Over the years the area had degenerated into a slum and had evolved into a haven for drugs, crime, and degenerates. Recently, redevelopment initiatives started to restore the district to its former glory. Its Renaissance would never come to fruition. The infection saw to that.
There was blood everywhere. Splashed upon buildings like Jackson Pollock paintings. Like everywhere else, there was debris all around. Telephone poles lay toppled, cars on their sides, trash cans scattered. Suitcases were all about, some open, the last signs of a failed evacuation.
“Where are all the bodies?” Alison asked.
“Alison is right, they’re all gone,” Theresa confirmed. “Where could they have gone?”
“Eaten,” Pete concluded. “Those fuckers ate everybody.”
“No,” Bataviah answered. “Not eaten. Taken. To fill the ranks of the unholy army which chases us.”
“Jesus,” Sam uttered. “That’s got to be one hell of an army.”
“You can’t imagine,” Bataviah replied. “The infection has spanned the globe. Countries have fallen. Continents lost. There is nowhere on this planet you can go to escape their reach.”
“Except the stadiums, right?” Pete asked sarcastically. “I mean, since that’s where we’re heading, that MUST be the only safe place on Earth.”
“Shut up Pete, you’re not helping anything,” said Daniel.
The bus continued through the district. They were making decent time, all things considered. They only had to double back a few times whenever the road was blocked. Weaving around the city blocks made them feel like rats in a maze, but they were making headway. The survivors continued to survey the dead urban landscape as Chatty pushed the bus on through the aftermath.
“This is weird,” Alison said as she looked out her window. “There’s nothing out there. Nothing. Where are all those creatures? Shouldn’t we still see some of them wandering around? You know, the ones who got stuck out in the daylight?”
Bataviah and Maalik immediately began searching through the windows at any sign of the walking dead. Just as Alison had observed. Nothing.
“See this as a blessing,” Bataviah said, even though she was worried about the lack of moving corpses.
Maalik met her eyes. He was concerned as well. The fact that none of the infected had been stuck outside during the sleep was unusual. They couldn’t worry about that now. The number one priority was to reach the gate. The Clan knew that they were en-route, but the Sleep prevented them from knowing any further details. They did not know when, nor from where they would be arriving. The good news, was that She wouldn’t know either. The Horde was just as ignorant to their whereabouts as his kin was.
****************
Deep within her carapace of twisted bodies, Sunshine lay in wait, anticipating the arrival of the night. Her eyes fluttered underneath her closed eyelids. Although her body was dormant, her mind was firing rapidly. It took all her strength to find a link. All her concentration focused on that one goal. To see. Then, she found him.
She entered the infected’s mind; the Sleep providing the only difficulty. Hijacking the occipital lobes of the commandeered brain, she began to view the outside world through the eyes of her hostage. The Sleep made everything fuzzy, yet the Queen of the Horde was still able to make everything out.
She was sitting in a vehicle. A large one, capable of holding dozens of people. She was holding something in her hands, banging it against the glass next to her. Such a strange object...It was dark brown, long, flexible, and resembled the genitals of a human male. Why did this child of hers have this? Wait, no. This was no child of hers. Not yet anyway. He had not yet consumed enough human meat n
eeded to make the full conversion. That was only a matter of time though.
Focusing her attention towards the front of the bus, she could see several humans gathered around the driver. Some were looking out the front while others looked out the side windows. She followed their stares out the window next to her. She saw lines of what used to be fancy row houses, many of which were marked with blood.
She observed street signs as they passed. Palo Alto Street, Resaca Place, Sherman Avenue. She knew exactly where they were. She continued to sit and observe. The bus zigzagged and backtracked to avoid obstacles in their path, but she was able to discern the direction that they were heading. West, towards the river. More specifically, the coliseums where the humans held their sporting games.
Sunshine relinquished control and vacated her hostage. She would have loved nothing more than to attack the humans while she had control and the element of surprise, but she only had enough strength to see. That was enough. She had their location and she knew where they were heading.
A wicked grin stretched across her face as she waited for the Sleep to pass.
****************
“This is ridiculous!” Theresa exclaimed. “We’ve been crawling at a snail’s pace for two hours and we’ve done nothing but go in circles!”
Daniel spoke up in agreement. “Yeah, Chatty, why don’t you just plow straight through all this shit and get us there already?”
Chatty hated that nickname, but remained silent. Sam spoke up before he had a chance to open his mouth and give Daniel a good tongue lashing.
“Shut your cake hole and think for a minute, genius. If we go barreling through all this carnage, what do you think is going to happen to this bus? What do you think could happen? Puncture the radiator? Break a belt? Or, God forbid, bust an axle? Then what do we do, walk? You might not see ‘em now, but you bet your Asian ass they’re out there. And they’ll get you. Unless you’re smart. So be smart.”
“Uh… Sorry… You’re right, that was stupid for me to say,” Daniel replied. He cursed at himself. He was way smarter than that and was embarrassed for sounding like a complete fucktard in front of Sam.
The bus lurched forward as Chatty slammed on the brakes. The hiss of the bus’s airbrakes sounded as everyone righted themselves. They managed to make it through the Mexican War Streets district. They were close to the sports stadiums which stood majestically at the confluence where the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers formed the Ohio.
They were now on Allegheny Avenue, atop a small hill which overlooked the North Shore. They could clearly see Heinz Field, home of the Six-time Super Bowl Champion Pittsburgh Steelers, up ahead. Before them, their path was blocked. They saw barricades and road blocks at every intersection leading up to the stadium.
Busses, tractor trailers, cars, and trucks mixed with sandbag foxholes to form makeshift walls. Behind each fortification, several military vehicles lined in formation. Mounted machine guns peppered the walls. The National Guard must have set up a staging area here to contain the infection. A futile attempt it seemed. Like everywhere else, frozen blood glistened red on almost every vehicle. Even from this distance, they could see body parts scattered throughout the streets.
The survivors sat in quiet shock; the realization that they could drive no further weighed on each of them. Maalik was the first to speak.
“We abandon the bus. From here, we go on foot.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sam asked. “We can travel parallel to the barricades on adjacent streets. There’s bound to be a break in the walls somewhere.”
Bataviah shook her head in response. “The military was attempting to form an outer perimeter for the quarantine zone. There is no guarantee that there is a breach in their fortifications. Even if there was, it would take too much of the little time we have left to find it.”
More silence followed. Bataviah’s logic made sense. The safety of the bus had come to an end. For the second time that day, the survivors left their only safe haven. Gathering up their gear, they climbed over the first barricade.
CHAPTER 43 BLOOD STORM
The winter storm pummeled the landscape as it sped towards Pittsburgh. The clouds were black and low in the sky; blotting out the sun. They churned and rolled as they bombarded the ground with large, wet snowflakes. Below, the tempest’s shadow crept, blanketing the undead army and its queen, in darkness.
****************
Sunshine’s eyes opened. The Sleep was over. She could hear her followers begin to stir. Their bodies moved and undulated as their skin became pliable and hydrated. The mental link between her and her children intensified tenfold. The cocoon which encased her began to breathe. It was time to rise and claim her prey.
The carapace collapsed onto the zombie queen, but she was not crushed. Instead, the bodies flowed around her. Hundreds of hands carried her upwards until she finally emerged into the snowy maelstrom. She stood atop an immense mound of bodies that had served as her refuge. Now, it would be her chariot into battle.
She let out a screech which echoed throughout the valley. The bodies below her lurched forward and began to move as one. Four arms reached up from the tangled mess and grasped her legs, steadying her as they began to travel forward. Those of her children in the front ranks toppled from those behind them. They in turn, were overrun by the ones behind them and so on. They looked like a lava flow of limbs, claws and death.
They reached the edge of the cliff that rose up behind the Pittsburgh Pleasure Palace, but they didn’t stop. They didn’t even slow down. Bodies began to pour over the edge like water; down onto and around the building and continuing onto McKnight Road. Sunshine’s chariot of the dead moved swiftly, flowing over wrecked vehicles as if they weren’t even there.
She could hardly contain her ecstasy as the Horde sped towards the stadiums. Finally, her hunt would be over. It perplexed her that she didn’t know the reason behind her infatuation with the former human known as Nathan Ackland. Something drew her to him. A familiarity of sorts, as if she had known him from a past life. Impossible, she thought. Her time on the Earth had passed eons ago. No, it had to be something else. Perhaps he held something inside of him that could help her, or maybe harm her. Was he even aware of it?
She would discover that soon. One way or another. The snow pelted her alabaster face as the Horde rolled and flowed south, with the storm heralding their impending arrival. Her children numbered in the tens of thousands. Worldwide that number reached into the billions. The fall of Man was at hand. Her revenge was inevitable.
****************
“C’mon guys, hurry it up!” Daniel shouted to the three zombies in the group.
Nathan, Evelyn, and Ronnie struggled to make it over the sandbag barricades. The Dead Sleep made their joints stiff and awkward, which made climbing quite humorous to behold.
“Going as fast as we can,” Evelyn responded as she finally crossed the third barricade.
The group hadn’t seen a single zombie after abandoning the bus, except for the three traveling with them. Even still, Sam, Daniel, Chatty, Maalik, and Bataviah encircled the others. Their weapons locked, loaded and at the ready. Alison, Theresa, Carlos, and Pete carried the supplies within the circle, while Nathan, Evelyn, and Ronnie brought up the rear. Boomer weaved around everybody while he kept a vigilant watch over Master and Lady.
Fifteen minutes later, the survivors crossed over the last barricade which stood between them and the North Shore. They were now underneath Route 65, which traveled parallel to the Ohio River and elevated above the North Shore. A large section of the four lane road had collapsed just off to their right, forming a small mountain of broken concrete and twisted metal.
Ten yards ahead, the trolley tracks of the North Shore Connector rose above the parking lots to join Route 65 in ferrying the public to the attractions which lined the shore. The tracks stretched and curved with the road until they dipped below street level. There it fed into the tunnel which ran underneath t
he Allegheny River, joining with the main trolley line underneath downtown. A sore spot for many Pittsburghers, the Port Authority intended for the Connector to help ease congested parking and traffic downtown. They also hoped to attract more people to the stadiums and casino. Unfortunately, the project spiraled into a budget nightmare, with costs exceeding $5 billion.
Beyond the rails, the charred remains of Rivers Casino, Heinz Field, and PNC Park stood as monuments to a society which, until yesterday, had flourished. Now, they were nothing more than a morbid reminder of the life that was no longer. Further past the stadiums, the city burned. The smell of burning rubber, gasoline, and bodies hung thick in the air. Downtown proper was silent. The screams and cries that echoed throughout the streets just hours before had finally faded.
"Jesus..." Sam uttered.
"I don't think Jesus can hear you," Carlos replied.
Boomer started barking towards the north. Not his playful bark, this one held a low ominous tone to it. One which heralded the arrival of awful things to come.
"What's with him?" asked Pete.
Bataviah watched the dog intently as he stood with fur on end, barking non-stop, standing guard between the group and the unseen danger that loomed. Suddenly, Boomer shuddered, his fur dropping out in clumps as long, sharp, black barbs replaced his fuzzy fur. His muscles rippled in a rhythmic heave, doubling in size with each bone crunching shudder. Teeth, snout, ears, and claws elongated and grew. The barking deepened until it became a monstrous roar.
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??!!" exclaimed Daniel as he raised his gun to shoot the beast before him.
"NO!" Nathan shouted as he lunged for Daniel's gun.
He didn't make it in time. The bullet propelled out of the barrel and careened towards Boomer. It hit the near-impregnable quill armor; only breaking three quills before crumpling into a deformed blob of metal. Boomer turned in Daniel's direction and unleashed an angry roar towards him.
