Dead End (Book 2): Surviving

by Monroe, Kady

  Jenny could kick herself for leaving the car running. The noise attracted them, and she was sure the open door had allowed entry to at least one zombie. So far though, it stayed quiet. No moaning. It didn’t know she hid close by.

  She considered staying put. Maybe they would wander off on their own. A zombie outside moaned again. Jenny dismissed the idea of waiting, knowing the car and moans would attract any others in the vicinity. She crept forward a little, placing each foot with precision. If she turned the torch off, she would be blind in the darkness and not be able to locate anything moving in the shop. She almost wished the damn thing would make a sound so she could pinpoint its exact location. But it seemed to be standing still.

  Rolling up the map book, she wedged it down into the back of her jeans. Then on hands and knees, Jenny bit down on the wooden handle of the hammer to carry it in her mouth. Keeping the torch in one hand, she made her way along the side of the third aisle. Jenny used slow strokes to sweep the floor in front of her with her free hand, pushing aside any items that might crackle or break if she put weight on them. She crawled a few feet at a time.

  Then the idea to lie down and shine the torch under the shelves units came to her. Carrying out her plan she laid herself down and swept the torch from left to right. She saw the next aisles floor, but no feet. The crunching noise came again and Jenny became sure it came from an area near the front door.

  Jenny reached the corner of the last shelving unit. Peering around it she thought she could make out a dark humanoid shape. She dared to lift the torch up, hooding the lens with her hand and shone it towards the entrance. She saw one zombie. The thing faced away from her and stood silently on its bare, grazed, and dirty feet.

  As she raised the torch little by little, the hem of a stained blue flannel nightdress came into view. It hung on a small thin body. When the light raised up further, Jenny saw the back of the woman’s head. White hair adorned with pink and purple foam rollers. The dead old lady seemed to notice the light and shuffled herself around. Jenny quickly lowered the torch and ducked back behind the shelf. Her heart raced as she held her breath and waited.

  Something rolled across the floor after the zombie’s foot inadvertently kicked it, then it stepped on an item making its wrapper crackle. The zombie sounded as if it was closing in on Jenny’s position. Moving back a little, she took a quick glance behind her to make sure nothing was creeping up on her. Then she gripped the hammer and got ready to fight.

  It moved into view and Jenny pounced. Not giving it time to moan she swung the hammer down against the small zombie’s skull. There was a sickening thud as bone cracked and the hammer slid inside. The zombie slumped forward. Not thinking about getting bitten, Jenny caught it before the body fell to the floor. She lowered it with care onto its side and studied it for any movement. It lay still with its mouth open as if in surprise and its white shrouded eyes were devoid of awareness.

  Having dealt with the immediate threat Jenny heard no one else moving towards her. She levered the hammer back and forward to release it from the old woman’s head. She felt guilty about destroying some poor kids granny, but it was do or die and she wanted to live. Eventually, she would probably not think twice about stopping the dead, but she wasn’t at that point yet.

  Jenny stood still for thirty seconds, trying to detect any other zombies inside the petrol station. When she heard nothing, she moved with stealth to the door. Damn, she’d left the headlights on too. One zombie staggered around the engine, perplexed at what to make of the noise. At the back of the pumps, Jenny noticed a rather fat and bloated bald male. He was trying to get through the gaps between the pumps. Fine, Jenny thought, let him get stuck there while I run for the car. Regrettably, the bald guy saw her and let out a loud moan while it increased its efforts to get through the gap. With no choice but to run, Jenny sprinted from the entrance only to find the zombie from the car lurching towards her. In terror, she let out a scream and kept running.

  The young male zombie only had one arm and had gotten between herself and the car door. Jenny swung the hammer as hard as she could into the side of his face. The zombie battered off the car door as its jaw broke from the hammer blow and then its nose from hitting the door. She heaved the hammer back and hit the man again, this time getting the crown of his head. He stopped moving. Fat guy’s moans increased in volume and Jenny could hear the frustration in them. He remained stuck.

  Without pause, and with an effort, she heaved the fallen body away from the car door. She fumbled the keys in her shaking hands and dropped them as the bald zombie gave up its efforts to squeeze between the pumps. Now it moved along the other side, heading towards her. Swearing, she scrabbled to reclaim her keys.

  Now hyperventilating, Jenny snagged the keys and pushed the lock release button on the fob before darting into the car. As she engaged the locks, the loud zombie slammed against her door. Jenny yelped and pushed the key in the ignition. Starting the engine, the Mini lurched forward and stalled. The zombie tried to bite her window. She tried to get going again and succeeded. With the car moving and the walking corpse being left behind. She let out a sob and sped away from the petrol station.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Further down the road, she drew the car to a stop. The reek of zombie-filled the Mini. Jenny realised blood and bits of bone, skin and possibly brain matter stained her clothes. She wretched while she opened the door, leaned out and threw up. After closing and locking it, she took some deep breaths and tried to calm her body’s shaking. Next, locating a bottle of water Jenny took a drink to clear her throat of the taste of vomit. She opened the window a smidgen to let some fresh air in and the smell out.

  Once calmed down, she leaned forward and removed the road atlas from behind her, then noticed her hands were covered in blood. A cold shiver went through her, and her stomach flipped. Was I bitten? She wasn’t in pain, but she remembered hearing about people so pumped up with adrenaline they didn’t feel injuries until much later.

  Grabbing a water bottle, Jenny leaned over the passenger seat and poured water onto her hands. The discoloured liquid fell in a pool on the passenger side floor. She used all the contents of the container and wiped her hands on the passenger seat. Staring at them intently she examined every inch of skin and discovered no marks. The mess belonged to the zombies’ and had transferred to her hands from the hammer. However, before she let relief flood through her, she wiggled out of the outer layer of her smelly coat and checked the rest of her body for bites. Finally, she let out a long sigh and slumped back in the seat.

  Having taken the time to get herself back together, Jenny retrieved the road atlas. Turning on the overhead light she found the correct page and determined her approximate position. If she stayed on the A6, it would take her right back to Bamber Bridge. She saw a few smaller unnumbered roads branching off towards the west. From there she could join the A582 which would lead her to Preston again.

  She really hoped she wouldn’t find roadblocks at the end of that road, as to the west the River Ribble cut the land in two. If the way became barred, she would have to backtrack to the A6 and head east until she could find another route around the M6 and Preston. Tired but determined to go on, she went in search of a right-turn.

  Once Jenny got on the road, the quietness of the countryside soothed her a little. She drove past black voids of fields and swaying trees. Her eyes though became tired from the strain of driving at night. Yet she was grateful she didn’t have other driver’s headlights to contend with.

  She pulled over for a while to get a change of clothes; her and the car both stunk. Then she would have something to eat. Getting into the back seat she acquired some spare clothing. The fleece jacket and gilet had been protected from staining by the waterproof outer, so Jenny kept them on and selected a clean pair of black jeans. The interior of the car was warm, therefore she wouldn’t bother with another top layer. Before putting the dirty clothes in the boot, Jenny examined the outer layer of her coat. Concl
uding the mess would wipe off the waterproof layer, she considered tackling the problem. Then decided against it as she had already wasted enough water.

  Back in the front seat, she used the boot release button before picking up the torch and hammer. Stepping outside, she hurried to the boot. It dawned on her that when she took the Mini, she hadn’t checked out its rear compartment. She pulled up the lid and found it only contained a spare tyre and the tyre changing tools. Jenny dumped the clothes and secured the lid shut.

  Before setting off again, Jenny noticed a few CD’s sitting on a small rack below the player. Studying them, she saw two labelled as Techno Rap. Feeding one disc into the player, Jenny listened for a minute. The music did nothing for her so, she pressed the eject button. The one remaining CD was titled, Sing for Santa. She doubted anyone felt the Christmas vibe anymore, she definitely had no festive cheer to share. However, she wanted something to take her mind off recent events, so she played the disc. After taking another right-turn onto a narrow road, she hummed along to familiar songs, living in the moment with familiar words and voices.

  The signposts stated she could go straight ahead for the main road or take a quieter B road. Both would allow her to advance towards Preston. She opted for the latter and made up her mind to stop somewhere on the road before she hit the town outskirts. She would rather tackle the urban areas in daylight.

  Jenny dreamt of the events around Jack’s death again, only in her mind, he had turned and was the leader of the zombies chasing her. She couldn’t catch her breath as she raced to an enormous pile of black rotting tyres that stretched as far as she could see. Jenny climbed as Jack and the horde screeched and ascended in pursuit. The tyres were moving; she lost her balance and felt hands grab her. Screaming, she pulled away and scrambled upwards. The pile seemed to have grown in size and the zombies behind her numbered in the thousands. She sobbed and continued to make her way upwards. Suddenly she reached the top and tottered on the edge of a cliff that dropped away into a canyon’s floor far below. Her heart pounded as she turned to run along the edge of the tyres but Jack reared up and lunged at her. In an embrace, they fell over the cliff edge. In the next moment, she discovered she was laid in a wooden coffin with a female zombie on top of her. The woman bit down on Jenny’s neck. Jenny screamed as the zombie ripped a chunk of skin away.

  She woke with a scream, trembling and panting for breath. The dream had felt so real. She swallowed air, ignoring her racing heart and dry mouth. Thankful it had just been her mind regurgitation and distorting her memories. She recalled the way it actually happened with sadness. The coffin in her dream represented the dumped sofas she had fallen into, and the woman zombie didn’t land in it with her. It fell nearby, breaking its neck. When Jenny climbed out of her hiding place, she saw it, only a few feet away. Its head faced the wall while its body twisted the other way. On hearing her movements, the thing gurgled instead of moaning. Jenny picked up the wooden crossbar she had broken through in the fall and smashed the zombie over the head with it. Two blows and the thing shut up, but not before alerting the zombies on the other side of the wall. They moaned in unison with the undulating van alarm which still pierced the air. Fortunately for her, it didn’t seem like the corpses were scrambling to climb the tyre pile.

  Shaking the memories away she grew aware of daylight filtering into the car, but the light appeared different, diffused. She was still fuzzy from waking so at first, she thought it must be foggy as she couldn’t see outside. But then, realising how cold she felt, she deduced a layer of frost covered the car. It impaired the view of the immediate area and she couldn’t see if anything lurked outside. Therefore, she started the car engine and found the button on the dashboard for the window de-mister. She prepared herself for some unexpected noise or movement from a zombie, but none came.

  Once the windows defrosted, she got her chance to look outside, everything seemed okay. The car interior also warmed up, so Jenny unwrapped herself from the quilt. Then devoured breakfast. She sighed, yearning for a hot drink.

  After a quick bathroom break, the time to gain some miles arrived. The petrol gauge looked healthy, so she pulled the car out from the entrance to a field and headed for Preston.

  About a mile out from the main town, she saw corpses wandering amidst small deserted industrial buildings and car parks. And as anticipated, there were more abandoned and wrecked vehicles too. Nearing the end of the quiet road, she knew she would soon be back on a heavier traffic road. Jenny guessed the next part of the journey would test her new driving skills.

  For part of the way into Preston Jenny had to weave between lanes. A major incident had taken place on the road. Vehicles and peoples’ belongings lay scattered everywhere. A few bodies sat mangled in wrecked cars and the occasional one lay in the road. These people were dead. Killed in collisions or by other live people. She noticed one man who was still wearing his seatbelt, but his body slouched half-way out of the open car door. His throat had been slashed from one side to the other and a knife was sticking out of his chest. She’d heard the saying, desperate people do desperate things. But this was sickening. Someone murdered him. - For what? A grudge or some supplies he might have had? Jenny never had much faith in people before, and now she had a foreboding feeling that there were more bad people left than good ones.

  She reached a roundabout without any interventions. On arriving at the next, only one exit remained available due to another roadblock. Fortunately, the lane barred, held no interest for her. But it was frustrating having the choice of routes limited for an unknown purpose. Jenny swore that if she ever caught up to whoever was doing this, she would wring their necks and throw them to the zombies.

  The left turn took her onto yet another dual carriageway. Snarled up vehicles caused her to slow down. It seemed many people tried to get out of town when things went bad. Luckily for Jenny, most of the traffic sat in the right-hand lanes of the carriageway. With no crash barrier separating the other side of the highway, she switched over to the eastbound lanes. The worst obstacle in those lanes was the wandering zombies. She wanted to speed by them, however, Jenny kept her pace steady in case a swerve was required.

  Jenny did her best to avoid the dead but still hit a few. She grimaced as she collided with one while trying to circumvent another. Jenny saw a flash of purple as a woman bumped onto the bonnet and then went flying over the roof. In the rear-view mirror she saw the corpse, dressed in a tattered onesie, hit the road and rolled repeatedly. The next time she looked, it awkwardly got to its feet and turned around in a renewed quest to reach the car.

  Further down the road, and with the dead around her having substantially thinned out, she saw a field of bloated black and white dairy cows. The bodies of a few men and women lay amongst the half-devoured carcasses. Before they were overwhelmed, the cows must have either stampeded or kicked out and fought back.

  At the next division in the road, Jenny brought the car to a halt and exhaled. She wanted to take the A583 but once more she encountered a roadblock. Frowning, she thumped her palms on the steering wheel,

  “What is it with these people?”

  Unless she wanted to turn around and go back the way she came from, then the only option left became the A584. Jenny did not want to take it as she knew it led to tourist areas such as Lytham St. Anne’s and Blackpool. It might be early November, but those places would be crawling with late holidaymakers turned zombie. She knew Blackpool put on some winter lights festival around this time of year. She recalled seeing photos of the promenade and trams lit up in coloured lights with more illuminated decorations strung up along the streets above the traffic. No. She really did not want to go to Blackpool. She imagined having to deal with zombies in Kiss me quick cowboy hats, or a bride-to-be wearing driver’s Learner plates chasing her with its veil flapping behind.

  Dejectedly she reached for the map and studied the appropriate area for a route off the A584. She looked for a road which allowed her to bypass Britain's less glamor
ous answer to Las Vegas. Jenny spotted a couple of possibilities although it appeared she would have to go through a small town to reach them. Blackpool or a small town? No contest.

  She arrived at a place called Freckleton. A dual-carriageway ran along the outskirts, allowing Jenny to keep going without the worry of having to navigate the town’s streets. She came to a turnoff on the right. Its nameplate said Lower Lane, but wrecked cars blocked the road. Driving on she noted the next two streets on the right-hand side appeared to lead into residential areas. Therefore, she ignored them and kept going. The road was surprisingly clear of zombies. Maybe because the housing on her left-hand side was secluded by hedges and fences at the end of their back gardens. But whatever the reason, it made her life easier.

  After navigating another roundabout, she knew she wanted to take the next right turn. Her frustration grew even more when she found it blocked. Someone obviously shared her sentiments as they had scrawled in red spray paint across the blocks BAS TA RDS.

  With the detour around Blackpool not going well, Jenny felt like a rat in a maze and wondered again if that was the point. Was someone herding both the living and the dead in certain directions?

  Sighing, she consulted the map and hoped that one of the smaller roads between her position and Lytham St Anne’s would work out better. She got moving and continued to follow the road ahead.