Impact

by Chrissy Peebles

In a flurry of tumbling and punching and slamming, we rolled right off the stage, into the horde of zombies. I couldn’t see the faces of the spectators from where we were, but I could only imagine what they were thinking.

  I hit the ground hard. Glancing up, I was greeted by dozens of milky-white eyes. They had sunken cheeks, tattered skin, and dirty clothes. Luckily, they were on the other side of the meshing. It looked flimsy and I knew it wouldn’t hold for very long. My ears were filled with the moans and snarls and growls that haunted my nightmares every night.

  “Maybe I’m the crazy one,” I said to Jim.

  “No comment,” he whispered, looking up at the horde.

  Chapter 26

  It took a few seconds for the zombies to register that we were now at their level; they weren’t exactly geniuses. In a fury of moans and growls, they began stumbling closer to us. The metal meshing began to shake as they started to pound on it. As it started to come down, I gasped.

  I scrambled to my feet and took a few steps back. A zombie from the left pounced, snapping its teeth very close to my neck. I pushed the thrashing zombie away with my forearm, trying to avoid being bitten. With another burst of energy, I shoved as hard as I could. I grabbed one of the bikes off the rack and held it in front of me like a shield. I ignored the terror flooding through my body and forced myself to keep fighting. More snapping jaws came at me, wiry fingers bursting through the spokes of the wheels. Biting my lip, I rammed the bike into every zombie that got within three feet. I smacked a half-dozen of the things upside their decrepit heads.

  Dozens of dead hands reached for me. Chills raced over my body as horror washed over me. In a panic, I grabbed more bicycles and began throwing them at the horde. The bikes, the wire mesh, and the fallen zombies piled up into a barrier, and the oncoming foes stumbled a bit. I knew it wouldn’t stave them off forever, but I hoped it would give us the few precious seconds we needed to get out of there alive.

  “Stop throwing things! Do you want the others to see us?” Jim snapped.

  “They’re gonna see us dead if you don’t give me a little help here!” I yelled as yet another zombie reached for me.

  “Just hold ‘em off a little longer. I’m almost in.”

  A few seconds later, Jim was gone. I didn’t hear any indication that he’d been shot or mauled to death, so that was a good sign. I also couldn’t put past him to nail me with a crowbar the second I squeezed through, so I picked up a two-by-two I spotted lying on the floor. There was a rusty nail sticking out of one end, so I figured it would be as good a weapon as any if Jim went turncoat on me.

  I held the board tight in my hands and hurried over to where Jim disappeared. Moving the panel aside, I crawled through the small opening. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously looked around. It was dark in there, but streaks of daylight shone through the cracks. There were no zombies, and rather than ambushing me like I half-expected him to do, Jim was throwing things around, looking for our escape from that nightmare. Please let there be a manhole! I silently prayed, knowing we were both as good as dead if there wasn’t.

  My nerves were rattled as zombies banged on the panels. I walked over to the barrier and tested it. It seemed sturdy enough to hold, at least for a little while. Even though they’d found a way through the flimsy fencing, they were not clever enough to loosen the panel and squeeze in as we had. Even still, I threw a few mattresses, a dresser, and a chest up against it.

  “Better safe than sorry,” I said to Jim when he looked at me.

  “I just wish those dang things would stop bangin’ around,” he said. “They’re gonna give us away!”

  I knew he was right, and I quickly thought up a story in my head. “If we get caught, we’ll just tell Kirk we climbed in here to run away from the zombies when we accidentally rolled off the stage. Surely he can’t fault us for that.”

  “The guy will put a bullet in our heads for breaking his precious rules. He’ll give me a whole new reason to be called Quick Death.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. We gotta get outta here now! Where’s this alleged manhole anyway?” I asked, nervously glancing through the debris.

  I’d been through so many battles, but never had I felt so tense. I wasn’t sure if I was more scared of the zombies or of Kirk, but all my muscles tensed into knots, and I could hardly breathe. Like a madman on a mission, I frantically threw boards, metal, and other rubble in every direction, looking for our portal to freedom from the crazy nuts above us and the zombies howling for our flesh. I knew the manhole had to be down there somewhere, and I was determined to find it.

  The banging grew more intense, but we didn’t seem to be any closer to finding our escape through that pile of garbage.

  “It’s not here!” I said, frustrated and terrified. “We need a Plan B...fast!”

  Jim threw a few more long pieces of wood over to the left. “I know it’s here. He’da had no reason to lie to me. Keep looking!”

  I desperately darted my eyes back and forth in the dark space, and a flash of red suddenly caught my eye. I walked over a heap of splintered lumber and spotted something made of fabric. “Hey! A backpack!” I yelled, picking it up. “Is this it, the one they left here?”

  Jim’s jaw dropped. “I believe so.”

  I opened it and started rummaging through it. There was a gun, a sheathed knife, ammo, and lots of other survival gear. With shaking hands, I picked up the gun and examined it. I loaded the magazine with ammo, then chambered a round. Perfect. I strapped the sheath around my leg. I felt so good to have real weapons, and they would give us a fighting chance. I stuffed a few magazines in my large coat pocket, then slung the backpack over my shoulders. I pointed my gun toward the zombies banging on the panel.

  “Wait!” Jim said. He stumbled over a dirty crib mattress, then pushed it aside and rushed over me. “I think you’d best save the bullets for...us.”

  His defeated words terrified me. “No!” I said. “We fight.”

  “Man, can’t you see that we’re screwed? We’re gonna have to end this ourselves, unless you’d rather be eaten alive. Personally, I wanna go out on my own terms if I’m gonna die down here.”

  I clenched my fists in anger. “I’m not giving up!”

  “When they break through those panels, shoot me, Dean,” he said, with his eyes wide. He grabbed hold of my shoulders and shook me. “You hear me? Shoot me and then yourself. I’d do the shootin’ first, but I admit I ain’t got the balls to off myself. I don’t want those things eating me piece by piece, at least not while I can feel it. I know ya don’t owe me no favors, but I just can’t—”

  “No! Keep looking!” I shouted. “The backpack was here, like you said it would be, so the manhole has to be here too. It’s buried somewhere in all this junk.”

  “Yeah? Where?”

  I shoved him hard. “You tell me! This was your plan.”

  “Maybe it’s over there, where the backpack was.”

  Time was running out, but we had to keep searching. I came across a bat that would be helpful in taking out a few unlucky zombies. I was happy to find it, but I sighed; it reminded me of Asia and everyone else I’d lost.

  Guttural moans echoed behind me as three zombies made their way through the loose panel, shoving their way in. I slipped my gun in my waistband and reached for the bat, since I knew we couldn’t risk firing off any noisy shots that Kirk and his men would hear.

  As the first zombie approached, I swung my arms back and whacked its head so hard that its neck broke, lobbing its decayed noggin unnaturally to the left like a lollipop on a wet stick. The thing fell backward with a howl.

  The next one reached for me, clawing at my midsection with black, dead nails. I swung and took it out, then immediately swung again and hit the one behind it. Two more came out of nowhere, but I attacked furiously. With another whack, I shattered the first zombie’s jaw. Meanwhile, the second zombie, one with a swollen face, grabbed my coat. I pushed it away, but it refused to let go of my jacket. W
hen it fell backward, I fell right on top of it. It tried to bite me, but I plunged the knife deep in its mouth, all the way to the back of its throat. I pulled out my weapon and shoved it roughly into the thing’s temple, and the monster went limp from the unexpected lobotomy. I scrambled up, pulled out my weapon, and wiped the black blood on the zombie’s shirt.

  “Find it?” I asked, terror edging my voice.

  “Not yet! Keep holding them off.”

  “Easier said than done!” I yelled as what seemed like dozens more came at me.

  Chapter 27

  A snarling zombie with a deep cut running down its tattered face inched toward me, dragging its left foot. I slammed my bat into its mushy, decaying head. More zombies had already slipped in. Another one howled for my flesh but couldn’t get its foot over the mattress in its path. The junk and debris helped to slow them a bit, but some still managed to slip around it.

  When a zombie with bushy red hair came at me and bit down on my arm, like some kind of rabid Ronald McDonald, I wasn’t lovin’ it at all. I screamed, and my heart thundered as I pushed it away with a hard shove. It came back with a vengeance, but I kept pushing, trying to keep it from sinking its yellow teeth into my face. I held it off with one hand and reached for my knife with the other. I stabbed at it harder than I’d ever stabbed anything before, and its legs collapsed beneath it as it fell to its final death.

  I worried for a moment that the bite had torn through the leather of my coat and the flesh of my arm. The breath hitched in my throat, and my stomach lurched at the thought that I might have sustained a would-be fatal wound. I examined my jacket and saw the teeth marks, but there were not holes.

  Before I even had a chance to sigh in relief, more snarling echoed in the air. I took a deep breath as rotting fingers wiggled through the same opening we’d come through. They were pushing their way in, and I didn’t know how we were going to get out. I’d escaped the bite, but that would do me little good if the horde continued to break in. I had no place to hide, no place to run. We were trapped in a junkyard, and I was sure I was about to be eaten alive. In that moment, it felt as if my life had come to a screeching and untimely halt.

  It was almost inconceivable that I might be facing death at such a young age. I had just turned eighteen, was barely a legal adult, even though I felt I’d aged a decade in the last horrific year. A hurricane of dark emotions and painful memories flooded through my head. I was scared of the unknown, I feared pain, and my heart ached at the thought that if my family was still alive back in Ohio, they would grieve my loss. I thought about Nick, Val, my parents, Jackie, and everyone else I knew and loved, and I would carry some guilt to my grave for the deaths caused by my attempted rescue.

  I knew I was supposed to be brave, to fight, but I felt overwhelmed, bewildered, upset, and stunned. The fear was utterly immobilizing, but I couldn’t let it paralyze me. My mind was at war with the fact that I was going to die a horrible death. I refused to believe it, yet I knew there was no way out. The entire stage was surrounded by a hungry horde, and the flimsy panels wouldn’t hold for long as they relentlessly pushed, shoved, and tore, hoping to sink their teeth into our skin. Even if we did manage to get back out, we would only live long enough to catch angry bullets from Kirk and his goons.

  Jim touched my shoulder. “It ain’t here,” he said sadly. “There’s no manhole after all.”

  I looked at him, speechless, as growls and moans pierced the air all around us. The pounding got louder as zombies banged from all directions. The panels shook violently and I knew one would break any minute. Staying underneath this stage was a death sentence.

  A weakened panel by Jim’s legs began to shake. A rancid hand suddenly burst in through.

  “Zombie!” Jim shouted. Terror etched his face as long fingernails, like sharp claws, swiped at us. He grabbed a board and bashed the arm, ripping it off the decaying zombie.

  Panels started to buckle and shake under the strain of so many undead trying to fight their way in.

  Jim gasped for air, breathless with fear. “They’re comin’ for us, man,” he said. “You gotta end me before they do. I’m beggin’ you.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “Please, Dean. I know I ain’t lived as an honorable man or nothin’, but let me die an honorable death.”

  “No! I won’t die a coward’s death. I won’t die a helpless victim.”

  His eyebrows arched. “You’d rather be ripped to shreds?” he whispered.

  I felt shaken and unsure. “This isn’t how my life is supposed to end.”

  He looked away. “Z once told me the way to overcome the fear of death is to embrace it.”

  “I won’t admit defeat.” I sighed. “And I don’t care what Confucius says. I’m not gonna just sit back and accept death. We have to try something, anything. Maybe we can create a distraction and jump back onstage. They can’t get to us up there.”

  “That’s suicide!” he said.

  “And staying down here isn’t?”

  “Kirk’s gotta be pissed, unless he thinks we’re already dead. If they see us, they’ll fill us fulla holes.”

  “Maybe not. We can say we rolled off by accident, in the heat of the fight. Instinctively, we just took cover and hid. Besides, I’d rather take my chances with them then these zombies. If he shoots me, at least I didn’t die a coward...or a meal.”

  “If he don’t order us killed, he’ll make us continue the fight till one of us is dead. Are you prepared to do that? I don’t wanna kill ya, kid. Really. If we return to the stage, that’s what I’ll be forced to do, and then I’ll be back in bondage once again. I refuse to live that way. I’d rather die right now.”

  “You can’t possibly prefer death by zombies,” I said.

  He reached for my hand. “I don’t. That’s why I need you to use that gun.”

  “No,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Dang you, boy,” he said, furious. He then swallowed hard and looked up to the ceiling. “This can’t be the way I’m gonna die,” he said. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Please, God, take care of my family, my wife and kids...and please let them things kill me quick, since Dean won’t shoot me.”

  “Another one got in!” I said.

  Jim spun around and kicked the mangled corpse in the chest. It fell sideways and he finished it off with his boot.

  “I’ve got an idea!” I said. “We can smear zombie guts on our bodies. If we smell like them, they won’t attack us.”

  “Trying to blend in with the brain-munchers?”

  “It’s worked before!”

  “It ain’t gonna work now. There are too many of them! We’re soaked with human blood from that bath Kirk’s guy gave us.”

  “It’ll work. It’s saved lives before.”

  “It ain’t gonna save ours. There are too many in this horde, and they keep ‘em good and starved so they’ll put on a good show for Blood Fest.”

  “When my sister was trapped in a museum, zombie guts saved her. We’ve gotta try.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t want to be eaten alive. All things considered, I’d rather you just shoot me.”

  Another trio of snapping zombies lumbered in our direction. Two fell over wooden boards, but the third just stared at me like it hadn’t eaten in weeks and was desperate for a meal. It had short, bleach blonde hair with deteriorated skin and a mangled nose. Swinging my bat, its blonde wig flew off, revealing a green, bald head. I put the thing out of its misery. Jim took out the other two with a few swift kicks with his boot.

  “So are we gonna end this or what?” he asked. “I’ve gotta do it while I’ve got the nerve.”

  I shoved him away from me. “No, Jim! I’m not shooting anybody.”

  “Don’t make me take that gun from you. I’ll do you and then me if I have to. It’s for your own good!” he shouted.

  In an instant, his rage took over, as if he’d morphed suddenly into Quick Death. He body-slammed me, and we wr
estled over the layers of debris. Anger consumed me, and I fought with every ounce of strength I had left. In a blur, he had the gun and was holding it against my neck.

  “Don’t do it,” I said.

  His eyes welled with tears that I didn’t know he was capable of crying, and his voice began to waver. “I’m saving you from a torturous fate.”

  “Liar!” I screamed. “You’re still after your revenge!”

  He cocked the gun, his fingers trembling on the trigger. “I told you that I’m over that. Think of this as a favor. I doubt I’ll be seeing ya in the afterlife, but try to remember that I did this one good thing. Please try to remember that.”

  Frantic, I slid my hands around in the garbage and boards, searching for anything I could use as a weapon. As I felt around, my fingers hit the edge of something metal and flat. “Wait! I think I found it!” I said.

  He scowled. “C’mon, Dean. Just take this like a man. It’ll all be over before you know it, and then I’m gonna—”

  Before he could utter the rest of his sentence, a zombie grabbed his shoulder.

  When he turned to smack it off of him, I knocked the gun out of his hand. Ignoring me, he tackled the stick-thin zombie behind him. Grabbing a giant rock, he swung down onto the zombie’s head.

  Teeth clacked. A rotter with spikey hair reached for me. Without wasting one precious second, I jammed my knife into its mushy eye socket. It fell backward into the debris.

  I pointed over to where I had felt the metal. “I wasn’t kidding! See for yourself!”

  Jim shoved several pieces of debris out of the way, and his eyes widened in surprise. “You’re right!” he said, sniffling. “It’s here! The manhole cover is really here.”

  My heart skipped in victory, but the joy didn’t last long. More zombies were crawling inside, and I heard the sound of plastic snapping and metal bending as they broke the panel completely loose. Endless corpses stumbled in through the opening, their mouths agape and salivating. Dread knotted in my stomach, and I hoped we hadn’t lived just long enough to die.