by Flacco, Jack
“We don’t have the keys?” Jon squeezed his head through the front seats in a panic.
“Randy took the keys!”
Jon’s gaze darted back and forth until it settled on the windshield where he could see the crowd of eaters chasing Matty and Randy. He said, “They’re heading our way.”
“Well, I can see that.”
“Everything’s heading our way.”
In the backseat of the truck, Abigail took a proactive approach. She didn’t panic. She didn’t cry. Instead, she shuffled to the back to the open crate of leftover guns and ammo. Pulling an automatic, she loaded and cocked it. With all the strength she had, she pushed the backseat door open. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she began firing the gun. Her mother Olivia taught her the basics of gunplay, but unknown to her mother at the time, Abigail’s willingness to risk everything made her even more dangerous.
Blast after blast from Abigail’s gun, zombies dropped from the charging mass. Randy pulled Matty as they raced to the Humvee.
“This was such a stupid idea.” Randy said.
“Obviously, you thought this through more than I have.” Matty held on to his hand.
“Remind me never to invite you out on a date.”
“I don’t think that’ll be happening any time soon.”
A bullet whizzed by Randy’s head and into the neck of an eater.
Inside the truck, Jon said, “Open your door.”
“I’m not opening my door.” Silver answered.
“Open your door. Randy has the keys. How do you think we’re going to leave?”
Silver opened his door and scooted into the passenger seat.
Within seconds, Matty and Randy piled into the truck. Abigail followed soon after.
Silver had to ask, “Why did you take the keys?”
“I don’t know. I’m having a bad day?” Randy answered, then stuck the keys into the ignition, turned over the engine, and flung the truck into drive.
What the kids didn’t know though, the shooting and hollering they had done throughout the ordeal alerted not only one horde to come to their spot, but a whole other crowd behind them.
The chewers had them surrounded.
* * *
With his back pressed against the door, Ranger panted. The pounding from the other side forced him to scan the small hallway for a way to keep the door locked. It took him a few seconds to realize latches at the top and bottom would do the trick. He swung his weight around and while pressing the door with his shoulder, flicked the latch at the top with his free hand then slammed his foot on the bottom one several times before it caught.
He closed his eyes for a moment enjoying the peace. Other than hearing the knuckles briefly rapping on the other side of the door, Ranger was able to catch his breath without much trouble.
Scanning the inside of the wall where he had escaped, the only thought in his mind was to get to the children who Matty said should have been inside ready for him to rescue. So far, he knew a few things. There wasn’t a military presence. This he knew, otherwise he wouldn’t have been there. The lights didn’t work. At least this is what he thought since the lighthouse would have been active to greet him at the dock. Whatever human presence there may have been on the island, no one had cleared the perimeter of eaters.
None of it made sense to Ranger. No guards. No children. Just eaters.
First thing on his list, he flicked on the flashlight mounted on his shotgun and scanned the hall. The hall led to a set of doors at the end. He sneaked all the way there. When he extended his hand to the door handle, he paused a moment to reflect on things. Fear shouldn’t have stopped him from going forward, that was not the issue. What he didn’t want was to experience another encounter and make a mess of his situation by alerting another horde with a blast.
Ranger gently turned the handle to the door and pulled it toward him. He stepped into the room and flashed his light all around. The echoes of the undead floated within the walls of the building. He wasn’t sure if he had made the right decision by going to the island, but if there were children that needed his help, he wasn’t about to let anything happen to them.
He stepped forward and noticed the crates Matty had described back at the docks. She had said Josh, Paradise’s leader, had packed the crates with the kids and shipped them off to the island.
He found the crates. All he had to do was find the children.
Ranger flashed his light inside the crates. Empty. As if it were to be that easy. Then, he examined the floor. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he was hoping it would lead him to the children. He spotted stains of blood, not human blood. It was dark green, and it was dry. He was sure the blood belonged to chewers, but what would chewers be doing inside the building?
The more Ranger investigated, the more questions arose.
The dried blood formed a trail under a door next to a window. His light followed the trail. What did he have to lose? If he didn’t follow it, he might not know if the children made it to their final destination.
Unlocking the door, Ranger flung it open and stepped into another long hallway. This time the blood trail ended at the foot of the door. He suspected eaters were trying to get to the other side and someone or something had cut their journey short. Still, he didn’t find a body, so whoever did it was neat about the whole thing.
As he followed the corridor, he didn’t have to worry about another door. This time a set of bars prevented him from going any further. He wouldn’t have imagined his luck changing to the point that the bars would have allowed him entry. But luck was forgiving to the zombie slayer. Ranger rolled the barred door open without much resistance.
He thought, “This is too easy.”
What luck gave him circumstance took away. The room was adjacent to a cellblock. The cellblock had multiple cells. From beyond the cells, he could only hear one thing—the steady moan of chewers echoing through the area.
* * *
“Reverse the truck!” Matty glared at the crowd of eaters behind them.
“I can’t!” Randy shifted to drive again, “They’re all over the place!”
Eaters had surrounded the truck. The only way out would have been to blast their way out. Even then, they couldn’t discharge their weapons inside the truck. They would’ve not only gone deaf, but they would’ve hit something inside the truck they didn’t mean to hit.
Jon’s gaze lit with an idea. “Randy, slip the truck into neutral.”
“Why? So the eaters can finish us off?”
“Slip it into neutral. There’s a slight decline in the parking lot. If you slip it into neutral, then the car’s inertia will carry it to the end of the lot.”
“I don’t understand. It didn’t work putting it in reverse.”
“You’re forcing it.”
Matty jumped from her seat, grabbed Randy by the shirt and shook him. “Do what my brother says, Randy!”
“Okay. Okay.” Randy slipped the truck into neutral like Jon had asked and they all waited.
The undead smacked the back glass several times, but it didn’t break. The faces of the rotting corpses put fear in Silver causing him to tremble. He closed his eyes not wanting to see what would happen next. In some way, when Randy had the car in reverse, it didn’t go anywhere. Bodies of the undead had prevented him to move.
Abigail pulled the gun she had and pointed it at the rear window. Matty yanked the little girl’s firearm just in time. “Let’s see what happens. Let’s give Jon’s idea a go, Okay?”
Abigail nodded.
In several seconds, the truck began to rock forward, a direction the kids didn’t want to go. Worry settled into Randy’s face as his stomach tossed while he sat twisting the steering wheel with his hands. He didn’t have anything to do other than wait.
Except for Jon, what not everyone knew was that the rear wheels had trapped four of the undead. Their brothers and sisters were pushing the truck forward not knowing what they wer
e actually doing was releasing them. Once released, the truck steadily shifted direction and picked up speed to push aside those that had prevented it to travel backward.
“It’s working!” Silver opened his eyes. “It’s working!”
Smiles broke on Jon and Abigail. They hopped on their knees and rested their arms on the rear seat. They watched the traffic as they passed the zombies in all their awful glory.
While the vehicle slowly crept from its spot on the parking lot, heading toward the exit at the foot of the drive, Matty couldn’t help but think of Randy, the good times they had and the good times they will have once the ordeal of fighting the undead was over.
As for Randy, he had other things to worry about. Had his mind not been on the eaters in front, he wouldn’t have forgotten about steering the truck as it rolled back.
“Randy?” Silver nudged him. “Where are we going?”
The truck veered right and hit an embankment where its wheels had rolled over a log, broken from a past storm that had torn through the area several weeks before.
Randy shifted the truck into drive, and pressed on the accelerator. It didn’t move. The wheels spun, the dirt eroded and the truck dug itself deeper into the ditch.
“Can someone please tell me what’s happening here?” Matty asked. “This was supposed to be easy.”
The heat behind Randy’s neck prompted him to rub it with his hand. He said, “I wasn’t paying attention to the road. I was too busy watching the zombies pass us by.”
“I don’t believe it. How could you forget about the direction you were going when you’re the one driving the thing?”
“I’m sorry. I got distracted, all right? Tell me you’ve never been distracted.”
“Not to the point where it would cost us our lives.”
“Fine, then! Next time, you drive the damn vehicle. Oh, I’m sorry. That’s right. You don’t know how to drive.”
“Had you taught me like you promised, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“Guys?” Jon stuck his head between the warring teens and pointed at the windshield. “We have a bigger problem.”
Thirty feet away, the horde dragged and slogged their way through the parking lot and headed toward the kids’ truck. This time, their meal wasn’t going anywhere and they would have the extra treat of not looking far for their dessert either. Torn clothes and broken limbs may have made this mass weak, but together they stood firm, never having held out, always pressing forward.
Acting on instinct, Matty barked, “Everyone get a gun from the back. Silver. Randy. Try to push this thing out of the way. Abigail. Jon. Stay with me. We’ll hold them off while the boys get the truck back on the road.”
“I’ll help with the shooting.” Randy said. “Jon can help with the pushing.”
“No. Jon doesn’t have the strength.”
“Are we going to argue again? Jon’s strong enough. Give him a chance.”
A moment of thought and Matty answered. “Okay. Jon, do you think you can handle it?”
“I’m not a little kid anymore.” Jon said.
“Right. You’re not.” Matty patted his back. “Help Silver with the truck. Abigail. Randy. Let’s do this.”
Chapter 29
Pressing all his weight on the bars, Ranger pulled the prison door open. The moans of the undead floated in the cellblock. His heart raced knowing that if he were wrong about his decision to save the children the leader of Paradise had shipped to the island, then he would have a lot to think about when trying to escape alive.
So far, he found the crates in an adjacent room with zombie goo marks all over the floor that led to the cellblock. If the children were there then he would have at least heard voices, giggles or something that would have given away their position. He had nothing. Not even the guards, who he figured would have been looking after them, hadn’t shown up as he expected. He didn’t know if it was all a joke or if he had to look somewhere else. He remembered Alcatraz was large and he still had whole sections he needed to visit. He had one question running through his mind. Would he be able to get into those places without setting off the alarms?
Ranger creeped passed one of the cells, but it was empty. It didn’t surprise him. Not everything he had seen at the prison had given him assurances that anything other than the undead lived there. Yet he didn’t consider the undead to have life. The undead were dead and by the end of his barrel he would make sure they stayed dead.
His light mounted on his shotgun revealed the way to the next cell, which again didn’t contain anything extraordinary to examine. He stopped for a moment in the center of the cellblock and scanned the area. The groans from the chewers in the area compelled him to stay alert. Whatever fight he expected however, didn’t materialize. He studied the floor, but this time checked for drag marks. Nothing. He couldn’t have been safer if someone had handed him the key and told him to enjoy the party.
When he passed another cell, he noticed a set of books on a shelf leaning against the wall. He drifted inside and scanned the titles. He couldn’t find anything of interest, but a bible was in the midst of them. He thought it was odd for books to have been there. The cells should have been empty since long ago when the prison had closed. Where had the books come from? He didn’t understand any of it. His curiosity drew him into one of the books. He shined his light on it closely and saw a note stuck in its pages.
He carefully balanced his shotgun under his arm and pulled the note. The note was a letter and it had handwriting on it. Apparently, the date on the letter was from a time several months prior to the change when everyone had become an eater. He rubbed his eyes and slipped the note further away in order that the light wouldn’t flood the writing, blinding him.
As Ranger read the letter, where he stood didn’t matter anymore. A letter in a book on a prison bookshelf didn’t seem a likely place someone would have kept a personal item such as this. It didn’t concern him as much as what the letter said. He raised his eyebrows, pulled the letter closer and took in every word.
Ranger had to pause. While the light from his flashlight blazed, the amber glow created a shadow of the letter’s page on the wall. He traced the shadow on the wall with his gaze as if it were delivering a secret message to him and him alone. He continued reading until he had consumed the entire page. He flipped it over, but the writing was only on one side. Then, he realized something. He set the light on the bed and aimed it toward the shelf. He frantically scanned the book where he had found the letter and saw the title. That’s when he knew what happened to the children.
“Put the letter back where you found it.” A figure appeared at the doorway of the cell.
Startled, Ranger stopped breathing for a moment as he covered his eyes from the light flashing in his face.
“Go on.” The voice said. “It belongs between pages twenty-four and twenty-five.”
Without arguing, Ranger placed the letter back where it belonged according to the voice’s instruction.
“Good. Now turn around.”
The zombie slayer didn’t need anyone to tell him what to do next. He had already lifted his hands in the air surrendering to the voice.
“Good.” The voice said then the figure drew near and placed his hands on Ranger’s back, pressing him forward to spread his legs.
As Ranger ground his teeth, frustration penetrated his face. Nothing could have been as harmful as to relinquish one’s gun. Yet, that’s just what he had to do when a hand from behind removed all the grenades attached to the undead killer’s belt. One at a time, the grenades fell on the bed along with his gun until he had nothing left to defend himself.
The figure stepped outside the cell then said, “Now, keep your hands where I can see them and come out where I can have a look at you.”
Without a fuss, Ranger stepped outside into the cellblock until he got a good look at the figure. He said, “You.”
When the light hit the figure’s face, it became evident to whom the letter bel
onged. Josh said, “Yes, did you expect anyone else? Now, get moving.”
Jammed into Ranger’s back was Josh’s gun. The pressure on his ribs pressed him to walk toward a door at the end of the cellblock. He knew the answer to the question, but Ranger asked it anyway. “Where are the children?”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that. Keep moving forward.” Josh pushed him along a tight corridor until they’d reached an open space.
The cafeteria was empty and shallow. During the time when prisoners lived in the adjacent cellblock, the cafeteria was a bustling area complete with guards at every corner. The only thing heard in its hallow halls were the steady groans and cries of the undead. Ranger could hear the screams and knew zombies were nearby.
Through another set of doors, Josh pushed the undead killer past another cellblock until they reached the showers. As they drew nearer, the groans from the undead grew stronger.
As Ranger led the way with his hands still in the air, he said, “What happened to the rest of your damned people?”
“What makes you think I’m at liberty to tell you what you want to hear?” Josh answered, pressing the gun into Ranger’s back leading him a few more steps until they reached the showers where a set of bars blocked the entrance into the stalls. Josh pressed Ranger’s face against the bars, holding Ranger by the back of his head.
The groaning stopped and stillness fell on the showers as if whatever was there had long since disappeared.
Ranger knew better. Although he had his left cheek pressed against the bars, it wasn’t difficult for him to imagine what went on in the showers. He was right. Before he could move out of the way, an eater jumped from the side of the showers and lunged at the zombie slayer. Its filthy hands pushed the slayer away from the bars. His only thought was he’d of rather had a bullet in the back of his head than a chewer’s teeth on the front of his face.
Josh stepped back then laughed.
“Where are the children?” Ranger asked again, and turned to the young man with the gun. He stood with his back against the wall with the chewer gnashing its teeth through the bars on his left and Josh pointing his gun on the right.
