Survive

by Todd Sprague

  John fired into the onrushing Zeds as they swarmed around the truck. He kept them off Jose as the teenager bent down and lifted Tina’s mangled body, holding onto her and rocking. He screamed angrily up into the sky, tears rising to his eyes. John was barely able to keep the Zeds from reaching him. Roy fired his shotgun, trying to get the ones that made it past John, but he couldn’t stop the tide of Zeds that ran past them.

  “Jose, we have to go! They’re getting through!”

  Jose seemed to snap out of it and laid the body down. As he did, he looked at John. “I can’t do it, man.”

  John nodded. Jose turned away, and John shot Tina in the head. He tried not to think about the way her body jerked as her head seemed to collapse in on itself.

  John ran to the driver’s side of the truck.

  “Get that container back into place, and stay there. Roy, go with him. I’ll try to get the ones that got through.”

  “We got it. Go help my mom!” Jose started moving before Roy was all the way into the blood and glass covered passenger seat. They headed towards the barricade as the flow of Zeds began to slow.

  The radio clicked on. “We can’t hold them much longer. There are too many of them, they’re starting to just walk on top of each other!” Patrick yelled.

  “The barricade is down over here. We’re trying to put it back, but some got through. You have to hold out up there,” John yelled into the radio. “Sara, can you hear me?”

  Sara’s voice came over the radio. “I heard, John. We’ve blocked the doors up here. All the kids are here too. But your mom and May are with Kurt.”

  “Dammit!” John turned the pickup truck around and sped toward the driveway. He managed to catch a few of the stragglers and mowed them down without slowing. He reached the driveway just in time to see several Zeds break through the doors of both Mason houses. Knowing that his mother’s house was empty, he headed towards Patrick and May’s house.

  He pulled to a stop and raced up the steps, firing into the backs of the Zeds as they entered the house. He heard gunshots from inside, and ran through the dining room. The table had been overturned, chairs lay splintered and broken everywhere. The gunshots came again, from deeper in the house. The gathering darkness outside made the house seem like a black tomb. Flickering light from a lantern slipped from behind a shut door just as a Zed slammed its rotting fist into it. John ran up and shot it point blank in the head. The Zed dropped to the ground. A hole the size of his fist suddenly appeared in the door followed by the sound of a shotgun blast, narrowly missing John’s head.

  “HEY! It’s me! Don’t shoot,” he yelled as he jumped to the side.

  Silence followed. John could hear something moving out in the kitchen. The door behind him opened, revealing June and May standing next to each other, shakily holding up the smallest shotguns he’d been able to find. Kurt lay propped against the wall behind them, his face covered in sweat, a pistol held weakly in one hand. His face, in the dim lantern light, was as white as a ghost.

  “Close the door, they’re still in here,” John flicked his laser site on and pulled a little flashlight from his pocket. He walked toward the kitchen, light and laser both guiding him. He rounded a corner as a Zed knocked over a pot. The sound of the falling pot seemed to distract the Zed, causing it to look down just as John shot it in the face. It fell to the floor, knocking over another pot, its face a splattered ruin.

  As John watched it fall, a second Zed came hurtling out of the darkness and wrapped its arms around him. John fell forward, yelling, frantically trying to avoid the monster’s teeth as they gnashed inches away from his neck. He rolled over, trying to get out of the crushing grip. He outweighed the Zed but the creature felt no pain, and kept him pinned against its chest. Just as John thought he was dead, he heard a gunshot so close it hurt his ear. Hot, wet blood sprayed over the side of his face. The Zed released him, and John jumped to his feet.

  Kurt stood, leaning against the wall, his pistol dangling from one hand, the barrel still smoking. The injured man then slid slowly down the wall, unconscious before he’d hit the floor.

  After John dragged his unconscious cousin back to the bedroom and made sure the women were safely locked inside, he ran back outside.

  The silent, empty house across the driveway was wrapped in black, oily smoke. John watched in horror as flames began to lick from the upstairs windows. Zeds moved back and forth past the windows.

  Fuckers must have knocked a lantern over, thought John. He ran up to the open front door and pulled it closed.

  “Burn, you dead sons-a-bitches!”

  “John, they’re breaking through the windows!” Sara’s panicked voice came over the radio moments before “We’re losing the barricade!” came from Patrick.

  “Hold on, baby, I’m coming!” John yelled into his radio, hoping Patrick would know he was addressing his wife. He ran as fast as his big body could move. He ignored Patrick’s plight as his thoughts were only of his wife.

  Gunshots came from the hunting shack as he drew closer. Zed bodies littered the ground. The door was still closed, but the windows on either side had been smashed, gaping empty holes left shrouded in glittery broken glass. Someone inside screamed.

  John barreled through the door, not even slowing to kick it open. The door flew off its hinges as he burst through, knocking a Zed to the ground. John fired a three round burst into its head as he ran past. More Zed bodies lay on the ground as John finally saw Sara ahead of him. She stood between several hungry, slobbering Zeds and the children. Margaret lay on the ground in the corner, John couldn’t tell if she was alive or not. Deirdre stood by Sara, wielding her rifle as a club. Bloody tissue coated the wooden stock, dripping down and covering Dierdre’s arms.

  Princess danced in front of Sara, nipping at the Zeds as they came close. Her fast little body zipped in and out of their feet as she ripped at their legs. Fish launched himself at a Zed as it lumbered towards Margaret’s slumped form. He knocked the Zed down and stood on it, pressing it into the floor with his barrel- chested body. He ripped into the back of its neck with his massive jaws, crushing its spine.

  A Zed reached for Deirdre, but Sara raised her Beretta Cx4 carbine and fired, hitting it twice in the head. A second one lunged, trying to get past her to the children, but Deirdre swung her rifle like a baseball bat, breaking the Zed’s head wide open. John dropped to one knee, brought his MP5 up, and opened fire. The little black MP5 spat out bullet after bullet, mowing the remaining Zeds down. John kept it aimed high, afraid of hitting the children or his wife. One by one, the Zeds twitched and fell, until finally, they all lay on the floor.

  John stood up and walked toward Sara and Dierdre, a worried look on his face. “Is everyone alright? Sara, was anyone bit?”

  Sara shook her head. She slammed a new magazine into her carbine.

  “I don’t think so. Margaret fainted.” She turned around and looked at her mother.

  Deirdre looked at John and tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. Frustrated, she raised her rifle and pointed it at him. John had one terrible second where he saw the flash from the barrel. He never heard the sound as the rifle fired.

  Pain lanced through his left arm, causing him to spin around. As he spun, he came face to face with another Zed, mouth stretched wide, hungry for him. He pulled the MP5 up and fired, killing the Zed just as it reached him. It slumped to the floor at his feet.

  “Mom! You shot John!”

  * * *

  John ran from the room, leading the way. He carried Margaret over one shoulder, his MP5 slung over his other one. He carried his Sig P220 in his right hand, pointed in front of him. Sara followed, her gun held at eye level as she swiveled left and right, looking for danger, remembering how John had taught her to clear a house. The school children as well as the children of the Mason clan followed, with Dierdre bringing up the rear.

  As they ran she whispered loudly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shoot him, Sara.”
<
br />   “I know mom, shush!”

  “But do you think he’s mad at me?” Dierdre whispered, shooing the children in front of her.

  “Mom.”

  “Alright, dear, but he’s not mad at me, is he?”

  “MOM!”

  They reached the little cabin John and Sara shared, and ushered the kids inside after John had cleared it. Princess and Fish came last, their fur matted with Zed blood. They stood protectively over the frightened little ones as they fell to the floor, exhausted.

  John tied a kitchen towel around his bicep and then headed back toward the door. “Jose’s with Roy at the northern barricade and the southern one is about to fall, if it hasn’t already. Get in the basement and lock yourselves in. If the barricades fall, I’ll try to get back here with the dump truck and get us out of here.”

  Sara nodded. She threw a handful of full magazines to John. He slammed a new one into his MP5 and ran out the door, leaving Sara behind him with a world of words left unsaid.

  * * *

  “Barricade’s in place, but you better come down here,” Jose’s voice crackled over the radio.

  “Negative, Jose. Be ready to get the hell out of there if I give the signal,” John said as he ran for Truck’s pickup. He pressed the talk button again. “Uncle Patrick? You still there?”

  At exactly that same moment, a huge fireball lit up the darkening sky in the direction of the southern barricade.

  “Oh crap.”

  The fireball lifted up into the sky, dissipating as it rose. An angry red glow remained behind, telling John something was still burning.

  “What the hell was that!” Jose’s voice rang out over the radio.

  “Language!” Deirdre’s voice shot back. She must have still been holding the button because John could hear Sara in the background yelling, “Mom, give me that!”

  “Sit tight, Jose. I’ll check it out.” John yelled as he drove Truck’s pickup toward the southern barricade. He reached it in minutes. As he pulled up, he saw figures lit from behind as flames licked up behind the barricade, on the road side. Then he saw Patrick waving down at him, laughing.

  John climbed up onto the barricade. Amazingly, most of the Mason clan seemed to be on top, crowded in next to some of the newcomers and the Kensingtons. The road on the other side was on fire, stumbling figures moving about in the flames. As he watched, more and more of the Zeds from the road walked forward into the flames, trying to get to the barricade.

  “What the hell?” asked John.

  “Jack threw a hose over the side and started pumping gas through it. The Zeds want to eat us so bad they keep walking into the flames. Looks like fire kills ‘em pretty good!”

  “What was that big fireball?” John saw the wave of Zeds up the road finally start to thin out as more Zeds pushed forward into the hellish fire.

  “Morgan threw a propane tank into the pack down there and shot it.”

  “Blew up real good!” Morgan shouted.

  “How are you set for ammo? You got this under control?” John asked, glancing in the direction of the other barricade.

  “Yeah, we got it. Go find my granddaughter.” Patrick patted John on the back as he started down the ladder.

  John drove up to the barricade. Jose and Roy were standing on top, watching the road. John climbed up the ladder onto the barricade. “How’s it look?”

  “Got one a few minutes ago, but nothing since.” Jose stared out over the road, a new, steely expression in his eyes.

  “What did you want me for?”

  “I found your cousin. Better go look inside the barricade.”

  John climbed back down and walked to the little door on the side. He peered in side. A flashlight rested on the floor, pointing at a hunched figure. Another figure lay on the floor. John aimed his MP5 at the figure. He slowly walked up behind it.

  He raised the gun, ready to fire, when Marta turned around and looked up at him. Tears streamed down her face. A rifle lay on the floor next to her. In front of her, John saw Alison’s body, laid out with her arms crossed over her chest. A savage wound had opened her stomach. Bloody cloth lay over the wound, the remains of her shirt.

  John leaned down past Marta and saw a neat little hole in Alison’s forehead. He looked back at Marta. “What happened, Marta?”

  Marta stared blankly at Alison. “We tried to hold them off, but there were so many. We thought it would be okay, but there were just so damn many. They started pushing the container aside. Alison’s gun jammed, but I kept shooting. She fell off and they got her.” She started sobbing. “She was screaming so loud...they started pulling her away. I jumped down and got her away from them. She was still alive.”

  John remained silent, letting her continue.

  “I dragged her inside here and locked the door. I’m sorry, I know they got past us,” she sobbed. “I held her until she...I had to do it, John. I don’t even know if she heard me say I loved her one last time. I had to do it myself, John.”

  John knelt down and hugged Marta quietly as she sobbed. Jose jumped down off the container and walked inside. John motioned to him and he came over, kneeling beside Marta. The two remained there, two partners in mourning, as John walked outside.

  * * *

  They brought Truck Robin’s body back from the barricade as the first rays of morning sun shined down over the valley. He’d died moments before they’d lit the flames on the road, protecting Jack as he moved the hose into place. He’d saved everyone, they said. No one argued, though it was precious little comfort for his wife, Jill.

  They buried Truck, Tina, Alison, and two of the newcomers, Eric Knowles and Paul Rubenstein in the little graveyard next to Harold Mason at noon. It was a subdued service, with a lot of tears, both for the dead and for the survivors.

  The Kensingtons buried their dead as well, having lost half of their able bodied folks. Jack Kensington was not one of them, and John was thankful for that.

  Smoke still curled up into the sky from June Mason’s smoldering house. It had burned down to the ground with no one to put the fire out.

  “This is bad, Patrick.” John said to the elder Mason after the last body had been buried.

  “You mean, worse than I can see with my own eyes?”

  “Half of our food was in my mom’s basement. We used way too much ammo in that fight. And now, the Kensingtons are going to be hard pressed to keep a guard at the barricade over there.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah. And, don’t forget, it’ll be even harder for us to get that fence built now.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Patrick. I needed to be reminded of that.”

  Patrick nodded quietly, wiping away the last tears he would cry for his granddaughter Alison, and walked away.

  * * *

  John approached Sara from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, surprised that she didn’t jump.

  “I knew it was you,” she said, answering his unasked question like only his wife could.

  “Umm, sweetheart, are you humming the alphabet song?” John asked.

  Sara smiled. “You didn’t notice we were shooting the Zeds to the tune of the ABCs? Figures. It was the only thing I could get the kids to sing together. They were so scared, and I wanted to get their minds off everything happening in the hunting shack, Margaret’s, too. And believe me, they were happy to be singing. We should see if any one of the people Jose brought is a therapist or social worker. It’s a long shot, but those kids need to talk it over with somebody. They lost their parents and have seen worse things than any horror movie.”

  “Good idea, I’ll check tomorrow. By the way, speaking of parents. Your mom...”

  Sara looked at John inquisitively. “What’s wrong?”

  “Well, she just won’t leave me alone! She keeps apologizing for shooting me.”

  Sara looked at the fresh bandage on John’s arm. “I told her it was just a scratch.”

  John nodded. “So did I. She won’t stop.” He winced as he saw Dierdre walking towards t
hem. “I gotta go!”

  Sara laughed, yelling “Scaredy cat!” as he ran off into the woods behind the cabin.

  * * *

  John saw Jose sitting by himself. He seemed to be talking to someone, but there was no one present. John made a little extra noise as he approached, not wanting to scare the teen.

  Jose turned around. “Oh, hey, John.”

  “Hey yourself,” John said as he approached. “Who are you talking to?”

  Jose moved to the side, letting John see what was in front of him. The decaying head of his friend, Eddie, sat on rock between Jose’s feet. The milky white eyes stared up at them, moving back and forth between them.

  John didn’t know what to say. He just stared at the poor boy’s best friend.

  “Look, man, I’m going to get rid of it. I just had to tell him about Tina. Didn’t have anyone else, you know?”

  John nodded. “Whatever you need. But you know, you have your sister, and your mother, and me. And everyone else here as well. We’re all family now, Jose.”

  Jose sat quietly for a moment. Then he nodded, almost to himself. As the Mason compound smoldered around them, yet somehow remained full of life, he drew his razor sharp katana and brought it down on the Zed’s head.

  Chapter 12

  Fall 2010

  Brattleboro, Vermont

  After the Battle of the Barricade, as the Mason clan took to calling it, things quieted down for awhile. John and Sara spent the next few days assessing and repairing the damage caused by the rampaging Zeds.

  Both barricades were strengthened and improved. The fence the Masons had wanted to build was put in place, first with a ten foot high chain link fence, then later reinforced by cut logs placed upright into the ground behind the chain link. This feat of engineering was made possible only by the discovery and safe return of twenty-three survivors who had taken refuge in an apartment building just outside of town. After searching nearby homes for food, ammunition, and other supplies, they’d also found about a dozen more survivors who gladly joined the Masons in their compound.