Z-Railed

by Holcomb, Joshua

  Not wanting to see if the feeders had the ability to climb up, Jesse led Katelyn over to the roof hatch. The sun rotted gasket peeled away from the door as Jesse forced it open, wincing as the evening sun blinded him temporarily.

  The normally calm, collected, and confident Katelyn whimpered, and a tear ran down her cheek. Clutching Jesse’s hand, her voice wavered as she asked, “Why is all this happening?”

  Jesse turned and looked directly into her eyes. “I’m going to help you through this. I’ll do my best to protect you, okay?”

  Katelyn nodded and dried her eyes on her shirt.

  Latching the hatch behind him, Jesse surveyed the scene in front of him. Stretched out across the small roof were old weathered plant boxes, rotting bags of potting soil, and garden stakes. Perched against the east corner was an old shed. Jesse approached and popped the rusty latch out of place.

  As the door swung outward a cool breeze whipped through the city and Katelyn shivered. “It looks like a storm is coming.” She pointed to the south. A dark storm system was approaching, and a sudden flash of lightening followed by the boom of thunder startled her.

  Jesse peered into the shed and saw the floor strewn with old burlap sacks, newspapers, and hand tools. Aging garden hoses lined hooks along the wall, and stacks of fertilizer were arranged neatly in the corner.

  “Come over here, please,” Jesse said. As the wind picked up speed he pulled the door shut behind him and then proceeded to clear a space next to the fertilizer sacks. Feeling the drop in air temperature he grabbed a handful of sacks to use as blankets. He curled up, and then let Katelyn wiggle in beside him.

  “Yesterday we were smiling at work and now we fear for our lives…” Katelyn’s voice trailed off as she struggled to hold back a torrent of tears. “What about my family?”

  “I’m sure they’re all right.” Jesse attempted to comfort her.

  Katelyn turned and looked at him. Even in the waning light, he could tell tears were welling up. Her body trembled and Jesse’s heart sank. “Go ahead and let it out, Katelyn.”

  Katelyn struggled to maintain control for a minute longer before emotion overwhelmed her and she burst forth into a heavy sobbing fit. As the events of the day washed over her she stammered, “Please just hold me, Jesse. I have nobody, and I’m more frightened than I’ve ever been in my life.” With water streaming from her eyes she gazed upward and managed to squeak out, “I’m glad I’m with you right now. I trust you.”

  Jesse pulled her close and adjusted one of the sacks as the sound of rain began pounding the roof. He lay in silence, listening for several minutes, as the thunder crackled and Katelyn cried.

  Ten minutes had passed before Katelyn went silent. Assuming she fell asleep Jesse was startled when she suddenly asked, “Did you ever have a dog when you were a kid?”

  “Yeah, I had a couple. Probably my favorite was named Daisy. She was a sweet dog we got from the pound; part golden retriever and collie. She loved to get attention.” Jesse chuckled and managed a small smile. “She wouldn’t fetch a stick to save her life, though.”

  “I have a dog at my parent’s place,” Katelyn whispered. “He is a wild one. The oddest thing about him is his love to eat bubbles.”

  “I’m sure he’s okay. You’re parents are taking good care of him.” Jesse cringed as a loud scream, carried by the wind, echoed through the night air. The rain had subsided, and nothing more than a calm wind remained of the storm.

  Jesse shifted the sack spread across his chest and sighed. “Try to get some rest, Katelyn. I promise I will be here when you wake up.”

  “Thank you.” Katelyn squeezed his hand for reassurance and moved her head around like a puppy trying to find the perfect spot.

  Jesse watched her fall asleep in his arms, and listened to the haunting cries and sporadic gunshots emanating throughout the city. For the first time in his life he knew true horror. Not even his experience of being lost in a cave deep underground Indiana for two days with a broken ankle could have prepared him for this. His mind raced with unending possibilities for what to expect next, until he finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep as the city of Lexington died around him.

  * * *

  Sergeant Caleb Brown brought his Humvee to a screeching halt and glared at the disgusting scene in front of him. He estimated about two dozen feeders mulling about in the street, stumbling towards his camouflaged vehicle.

  “Hoo-ah!” he cried as he put the Humvee in park. As he climbed into the back and poked his head through the turret he cried, “Y'all are about to get a piece of the Kentucky National Guard!”

  He firmly gripped the handles of the M134 Minigun and took aim at the approaching horde. The deadly weapon fired 7.65x51mm ammunition at a maximum rate of 6,000 rounds per minute.

  In no time at all the air was filled with red vapor as the expert marksman caused the feeders’ heads to vanish in a crimson cloud, dropping their bodies to the ground. As he congratulated himself for his new record time, twenty seconds, he was startled by a loud voice from above. Looking upward he glimpsed a young man and woman waving from the rooftop of an ice cream shop.

  “Y'all need help, I reckon?” he asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.

  “Yes!” the man replied. “I think there are still some of those feeders inside. I don’t have a weapon…” his voice trailed off.

  “Give me a minute.” Caleb ducked back inside, and plucked a standard issue M4 rifle from the seat. After putting a spare magazine in his belt he picked his way through the shattered glass window of the store and entered the building.

  The morning sunlight penetrated into the ransacked building and Caleb looked around. As he passed near the mangled automobile that had smashed through the window, he detected movement from the driver’s seat. Withdrawing a flashlight from his belt he lit up the cab.

  Still strapped into the seat, Caleb saw a gaping wound on the man’s neck. The blood ran down and soiled his black suit. His bloodshot eyes glared at Caleb with a menacing look of hunger. He snarled, and weakly clawed at the air in a futile attempt to pull Caleb in.

  Caleb pressed the barrel of his rifle against the man’s temple and squeezed the trigger.

  “Sorry, buddy,” he muttered.

  Caleb reached into the cab and fumbled around until he found the man’s wallet. Opening it up he found an expired driver’s license: Samuel Thomas. He poked around some more and found a neatly pressed family photo between two credit cards. A smiling woman with brunette hair and blue eyes, holding two little girls looked back at him.

  The poor guy was probably driving home from work, Caleb thought.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of scuffling to his left. Whirling around, he pointed his light into the darkened hallway and crept forward. As the hallway lit up he spied the putrid corpse of a feeder, a broom handle protruding from its head.

  Caleb was so focused on the body in front of him that he was oblivious to sudden attack from the right. A young woman in a pink blouse and blue skirt stumbled out through an open office door and pinned Caleb against the wall.

  As the feeder lunged for his neck, Caleb effortlessly pushed it away and fired one round into the brain. The sound deafened his ears as it reverberated through the building. He cursed, before climbing up the step ladder in front of him.

  Caleb stumbled through the attic and pushed open the roof hatch, where he found himself face to face with the couple. He extended a large calloused hand and textbook hillbilly smile.

  “I’m Caleb; Kentucky National Guard at your service.”

  “I’m Jesse, and this,” he said, returning the hand shake, “is Katelyn. We got trapped up here last night.”

  “Is that your handiwork downstairs with the broom?”

  “Yes,” Jesse admitted. “It cornered us and attacked.” He paused, and looked down at Caleb’s Humvee. “So what are you doing here by yourself?”

  “Oh, a unit of mine was dispatched from Frankfort, but we took pretty
heavy casualties when we were surrounded by a mob of these feeders off of Man O’ War Boulevard. Believe me; it takes a lot to overwhelm us soldiers.” Caleb shifted his weight to his right leg and spat on the ground. “I ended up in this part of the city and just happened to see you guys on the roof when I stopped to kill some feeders.”

  “You have any idea what is causing all this erratic behavior?” Katelyn piped up.

  Caleb smiled at the sound of Katelyn’s sweet southern accent. “I ain’t the foggiest idea, but it seems that anyone bitten by a feeder turns into a bloodthirsty savage. If I were you, I’d get out of the city for now and hopefully this will blow over.”

  “Any chance we could get a ride with you?” Jesse asked. “I’d like to see if we can get Katelyn over to her family.”

  “Can ya shoot?”

  “Yes sir. I’m a pretty good shot with a rifle. I can pick off a target at a hundred yards with no scope.”

  “That’s good enough for me. I’ve got a couple extra M4’s in my rig down there. Just follow me down and we’ll get loaded up.” Caleb glanced around. “Where do you live, miss?”

  “I live on Woodland Avenue, near the campus.”

  “Aw, heck, girl. I just came from there. It’s pretty bad. It’s very dangerous over there. Large groups of those college people are feeders now. I didn’t see anybody living along that whole part of town.”

  A tear ran down Katelyn’s cheek and Jesse put his arm around her. “Are you sure?” Jesse asked, giving Caleb a dirty look.

  “Positive,” Caleb replied a little sheepishly. “I was checking for any survivors that I could help out along the way. I hate to break it to you, but this city is going down fast.” He shouldered his weapon and asked, “Do y'all need any supplies or provisions?”

  “Yeah, we don’t have anything.” Jesse blushed. “We were on a date when this happened.”

  “I tell ya what. I’ll get you guys over to a local store and see if we can scrounge some things up. Then I’d recommend you come with me. I have a couple military buddies that I can probably find down near Richmond. Maybe we can band up. Safety in numbers.” Caleb put his hand on Katelyn’s shoulder. “Miss, I wouldn’t be telling you this if it wasn’t true, but your best chance to stay safe right now is to leave the city.”

  Katelyn sniffed and nodded her head. “I know. It’s just hard to take this all in right now.” She took in a deep breath and looked into Jesse’s eyes. “Let’s go with him. I want to find someplace safe and hopefully things will get back to normal.”

  “All right, let’s go.” Caleb unslung his rifle and together the three of them boarded the armored Humvee and proceeded to navigate the hellish streets to escape Lexington.

  V

  Franklin and Jackie's home

  Franklin’s eyes slowly drifted open. The sun was shining in through the window, and birds were chirping outside. Jackie was lying next to him, the blue quilt tucked up tight around her shoulders, and all seemed right in the world except for the low throb of pain in his temple. He slowly turned his head to look at the foot of the bed and blinked several times to clear the sleep from his mind.

  Memories of the previous evening flooded to the forefront of his mind as he stood up silently and slipped his jeans on. Did I dream everything? he thought hopefully, buttoning his shirt. Franklin painfully hobbled downstairs, his body screaming in anguish from the car crash and physical exertion of the previous day.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he was given even more confirmation of the prior night's adventure, seeing all his weapons laid out on the wooden kitchen table. The pump-action 12 gauge his wife used to repel the corpse porch invaders, two .357 revolvers, and a 1911 model .45, were all lying next to their respective ammunition. Several knives, machetes, and even a medieval-looking sword graced the table.

  As he touched the stock of his 1941 Russian-made Mosin-Nagant rifle, his stomach began growling. In his usual fashion the first thought that came to his mind was I need some bacon.

  Franklin turned to the fridge and opened it, but no light came on. The lack of electricity had begun the spoiling process of so many perishables, and he fought the urge to yell out a string of curse words that would embarrass even Miley Cyrus. However, logic and self-discipline prevailed, and he didn't want to wake Seth and Jackie, so he slowly shut the fridge door to conserve the cool temp inside.

  Retrieving his .357 and his rifle from the table, Franklin stumbled back up the wooden stairs and laid his firearms next to the bed. Quietly slipping back under the quilt, he closed his eyes and snuggled close to Jackie. The new day can wait just a little longer.

  * * *

  Jackie nodded and hugged Franklin tighter. "What should we do first?" she asked quietly.

  "First, we need lunch," Franklin said, grinning.

  His belly full of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, Franklin got to work. He began with the downstairs windows, cutting sheets of plywood and screwing them solidly onto the window frame. It was an arduous task without power tools, but Franklin was determined to fortify his house as best he could. "I should have worked inside first... I just blocked out all the light..." he muttered.

  Dragging his tools and leftover pieces of wood upstairs, he used the light from the bedroom window to build what looked like a baby gate on steroids. Jackie walked in as he was hammering in the final nails.

  "What in the heck are you doing? This is our bedroom!" she yelled incredulously. "There is sawdust everywhere, and why is there a hammer on our quilt?" She stomped over to Franklin and whacked him in the back of the head with the towel she was carrying.

  Franklin tried to duck, but got caught with the towel anyway. "Hey, I'm sorry, babe, but desperate times call for desperate measures!"

  "Well, hurry up and finish what you're doing or else I'll show you some desperate measures," she grumbled. "What are you making anyhow?"

  "I've got the downstairs windows boarded up, but in case they get in, I want a barrier on the stairs to buy us some time if we're sleeping. Is that ok, sweetie?" he said with a wink.

  She whapped him with the towel again and huffed, "Just hurry up. I'm going to go try to collect as much water as I can."

  Jackie collected as many empty containers as she could from around the house, and held them under the spigots. Water pressure was slowly getting worse, so Jackie worked quickly. "I wish I would have thought of this sooner," she mumbled to herself.

  "What did you say, Mommy?" Seth wondered aloud

  "Oh nothing, son. Hand me that water jug, please." Seth handed his mother an empty distilled water gallon and laughed. "It sounds like a drum when I hit it, Mommy!"

  Jackie smiled. No matter what was going on outside, nothing beat the innocence of a child. Her moment of happiness was short-lived, however, as the last of the water flowed into the jug. "Honey!" she shouted up to Franklin. "The water's gone now!"

  Franklin bounded down the steps and brushed some sawdust off his shirt. "We'll have to start collecting rainwater, babe. I can rig the downspouts to drain into a large tank if I can find one. I'll go to Handyman's House in the morning."

  "Do you think the hardware store is safe now?" Jackie asked as she made sure the lids were tight on each container.

  "Probably not, but I'll be careful. I'll have a looksie and if it's not safe, we'll figure something else out." He grabbed Jackie's hand and kissed it. "I'll go in the morning. It's getting late, so let's get to bed."

  * * *

  Franklin arose at the first sign of daylight. He glanced out his window out of habit, and then quickly took a longer, second look. He counted eight threats out in the street. They are getting more numerous, he thought to himself. He put his clothes on and wrote a note to Jackie saying he was going to the hardware store to look for a water storage tank.

  He didn't really want to go out due to the increasing danger. But not having any water is dangerous too, he thought.

  He grabbed the shotgun, slung it around his shoulder, and put his .45 in hi
s shoulder holster. He wrapped a bandolier around his chest and filled it with shells. And Jackie said I didn't need this, he chuckled to himself. He picked the tire iron from his defunct Accent, and headed outside.

  Franklin clobbered the two rotters nearest to the door and made it to the car. No one was on the roads as he sped towards Lowe's and dodged rotters.

  He pulled into the parking lot and stopped in front of the store. It appeared dark inside and the doors were intact, so it didn't look like anyone had looted it. Mentally preparing himself for whatever he might find in there, he stepped out of his car and walked toward the door.

  "Hey there, young man!"

  Franklin halted and faced the voice directed at him. An old, weather-beaten farmer walked toward him from a diesel truck with a water tank on the back.

  I wonder if he'd like to make a trade... Franklin wondered. Aloud he said, "Heya, sir! What do you think about all this rigmarole going on?"

  "It's different than 'Nam. for sure," the farmer said in a country accent and spit a stream of tobacco juice on the pavement. "These human critters got into my chickens yesterday, and I came to get some better fencing. Don't want them to get my horses. The chickens are jest for eggs and eatin', but them horses I sell. Shot about twenty of them human critters, I reckon..."

  "It's a commie conspiracy, I tell ya!" he continued. Franklin could see that this older fella was one of those who liked to talk. "They say the Cold War is done, but they just went into hiding! Yeah, I bet you it's the commies that done this!"

  Franklin looked beyond Larry and then opened his mouth to say something, but the man kept going. "Well, whatever the case, I got enough ammo and hardware to take on the whole commie army! No one is going to take ol' Larry Bishop alive, no sir!"