Decay (Book 2): Humanity

by Locke, Linus

  This time Aaron’s glance was a sneer.

  Mad Man just gave him a shrug. He was used to pissing everyone off.

  Gunshots popped off in rapid succession–the sound of a string of firecrackers. Each pop was followed by a spatter of blood, sometimes brains. Deadies started dropping all around the car, but none of them gave up their attempts at clawing their way in.

  “Even if they can clear us a path we aren’t going anywhere,” Rod stated from the passenger’s seat. “As soon as there is a clear shot out of one side we all have to run for safety until we can get Rob to the semi. Than he can swing around in that beast and pick everyone up.”

  Everyone nodded their understanding.

  “We may have a clear shot back to the schoolhouse. We’ll wait up there if we have to. I have a pistol and two extra mags,” Rodney continued. “Anyone else have any weapons?”

  “I have a pistol with a few rounds in it. That should at least get us there.” Mad Man pulled a nine millimeter Springfield from his coat pocket.

  Rodney looked at the man and his son. “You just stay close and we’ll keep that boy of yours safe.”

  The man nodded and pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose with his index finger. “Th-Thanks.”

  The group went quiet as they prayed the glass would hold long enough for a clearing to open up. Then the gunshots stopped. The hope of Gene-O and Michael reloading faded quickly when the gunshots didn’t return.

  “Well,” Mad Man Rob sighed. “I guess we–“

  Before he could finish his sentence the driver’s side door burst open, some of the falling snow blew in, and Aaron bolted out into the large grassy field that sat between the schoolhouse and the mill. Rodney wasn’t quick enough to react until the door had already shut.

  “Damn him!” Rodney shouted and punched the dash.

  “Save that boy! Save that boy!” Aaron’s shouts were faint but well heard. “Come and get me shitheads! Come on!” He ran around the yard, waving and whistling.

  “Now’s our chance,” Mad Man pointed out from the backseat. “He’s given us a clear shot to the semi.”

  Without another moment’s hesitation, Rodney opened the door and threw the seat forward as he climbed out. Several dead bodies littered the ground, and he only hoped they would stay that way for a few moments longer. He assisted Mad Man before taking the little boy from his father as the man climbed out. The man stepped out and went face first to the ground.

  “Aagh!” the man screamed as he grabbed his leg and tried to pull it free of a thin dead woman who had been trapped under the Camaro.

  Rodney handed the boy over to Mad Man and tried to help him. “Get the boy to the truck!” he shouted to Mad Man.

  Mad Man Rob nodded and took off toward the semi with the boy in his arms.

  Rodney began pulling the man free. The woman had a tight grip on his leg, and being wedged under the car gave her the advantage, but Rodney didn’t give up. He lifted the man a few feet off of the ground and took a step forward before falling backward with all their combined weight. The woman’s grip finally faltered as her arms broke free of their sockets.

  “Thanks, again,” the man said as he picked himself up off of the ground.

  “Thank me when we get to the truck.”

  The two men took off running, but Rodney stopped about halfway. He followed the horde of dead bodies and found Aaron still leading them around.

  “Get to the truck, kid! We’re all clear!” he shouted.

  Aaron gave him a wave. “Be right there!”

  With that, Rodney jogged the rest of the way to the semi where Mad Man had already climbed in with the boy. The father stood at the door waiting for Rodney, and he too climbed in when the man reached the semi.

  Aaron made a quick scan of the area and decided before he could clear his path to the semi he would need to lead the deadies in another loop around the mill. He heard the powerful engine fire up, and made a motion for Mad Man to drive around to the other side of the mill where they could meet.

  Mad Man Rob gave a quick tug on the air horn to assure Aaron that he understood what he meant. The big truck lurched forward and rocked a few times before smoothing out. The snow was just beginning to build up on the grass, but the semi was heavy enough to move without any trouble.

  Aaron led the pack of dead bodies around the mill, and burst out into the yard with the semi in sight just forty yards out. He inhaled the cold air and released a burst of speed as he saw Rodney open the passenger’s side door and hop down to the snowy grass.

  The young man focused so hard on his destination that he never saw the patch of frozen leaves. He lost traction and his momentum drove him to the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him and split his upper lip open. Blood splattered the ground as he tried to stand. He heard the gunshots and screams, but he couldn’t make it back to his feet before the first of the deadies was on top of him.

  The dead man tore at Aaron’s coat before reaching for his face. His cold fingers gripped Aaron’s lip where it had split and pulled. The soft flesh ripped all the way to his nostrils. The pain was unbearable, and he prayed that he would black out before the pain became any worse. Another finger found his left eye, and seconds later he could feel the finger nail scrapping into his skull.

  The pain didn’t last long after that. The single gunshot rang out, but Aaron never heard it. The bullet entered his forehead a split second before the spent bullet casing hit the ground. Chunks of skull and brain sprayed the deadies gathered behind him. His lifeless body twitched for a few seconds, and then it went limp as the deadies began tearing at his flesh and breaking his bones.

  Rodney’s sad expression could tell countless tales of sorrow and hardship spanning the beginning of time itself. Smoke wafted from the barrel of his .45 as he lowered it. He felt relief when the young man’s body could no longer be seen in the throng of death. The deadies had completely encircled the young man that had just recently saved his life and the lives of others. Pulling the trigger to end that heroic life was the hardest thing he had done in a long time, but there was no coming back from what Aaron was experiencing, and Rodney would expect someone to do the same for him, as well.

  He bent down and picked up the empty casing. This is one he’d hold onto. It slid down his jeans pocket and clanked softly as it found another empty casing there, like old friends making a toast. Putting down the dead was his job, but he’d only killed one other living person, and that was necessary to save his brother. And he would not soon forget that woman’s face, just as he would not forget Aaron’s.

  The cab of the semi was silent except for the rumble of the engine and the squeak of the springs in the passenger’s seat as Rodney climbed in. The door shut softly behind him and not a word was spoken by anyone as Mad Man drove the semi in a circle through the grass, running down several fiends that stood in the way, and headed out toward the road.

  Jonathan walked several paces behind Guillermo as they trudged through the woods. Occasionally they’d hear a rustle of leaves and prepare for an attack, but none came. Perhaps it was only their imaginations playing tricks in their minds, perhaps it was just wind gusts dancing playfully across the ground. It had been only several minutes since they heard the monstrous roar of one of the muscle cars at the mill, but things had gone quiet. Once again they found themselves wandering in the trees.

  “I’m not sure how we got turned around in here,” Guillermo said with a touch of panic hinged on his voice. “I wish someone at the mill would make some noise.”

  “I just want to find our way out of the cold. Coming to Iowa was a bad idea,” Jonathan said flatly.

  “It was your idea,” Guillermo responded.

  The pair walked on in silence for several more yards, hearing nothing but their own footsteps.

  “Look!” Jonathan said. He pointed through the trees to their left. “A clearing.”

  “Not just a clearing,” Guillermo said. “A road.”

  They b
oth moved in an awkward hop-jog that came from trying to remain quiet while moving quickly. Guillermo came through the trees first and ran through the tall grass in the ditch before stopping on the concrete. He smiled at Jonathan as his friend joined him on the road.

  “Well, this is better than the woods.” Guillermo turned and stared for several seconds down each direction. “How did we get so lost? We weren’t that far from the mill.”

  “I think we need to keep moving in the direction we were heading. We came out of the woods there, so we need to walk this way.” Jonathan pointed to his right.

  The gunshot stopped them just as they began walking. Neither one moved. Neither one breathed. They just waited to hear what both expected to be the following shootout as the remaining survivors did what they did best. Survive.

  No more gunshots came, however. It was just the one. Now they listened to the silence. The kind of listening that causes the eyes to squint unnecessarily.

  Jonathan held his breath to better hear the silence, but he couldn’t hear it over the bass drum beats of his heart. And at the same time, the silence was loud, covering up the footsteps that closed in behind them.

  Guillermo let out an almost feminine yelp as the fiend grabbed his coat, pulling him backwards but not off his feet.

  Jonathan charged the fiend, an old woman who had been dead for months and wore a tattered jacket fit for Fall and faded blue jeans, knocking her to the ground. “You alright?” he asked his friend.

  The fiend grunted as she climbed quickly to her feet, shuffling back and forth like a fighter who’d just been knocked down in a fight but wasn’t ready to throw in the towel.

  “Yeah.” Guillermo instinctively reached for Kadavre, but it wasn’t there. It lay in the still smoldering rubble of the walled settlement that kept them safe until Bill had launched his senseless attack.

  Jonathan sensed Guillermo’s feeling of dismay, removed his gloves, and pulled the Glock from his inside coat pocket. When once before he wanted to remain silent now he hoped the noise would attract the attention of anyone who may have survived the assault at the mill.

  The bullet split through the woman’s face just above her right eye, rippling her loose, wrinkled skin and sending brain matter and hair spattering to the concrete. She bent backwards at the waist and collapsed with a dull thud.

  “That’s that, I guess,” Guillermo said.

  They stared out past the dead woman, neither thinking anything more of her. It had been months since the last time Jonathan had felt sorry for the people these things used to be.

  Out of the cover provided by the trees, the chilled wind was biting harder than ever. Jonathan placed the handgun back into his coat pocket and turned back in the direction they had planned on walking before they were interrupted. He exhaled an exhausted sigh, a thick cloud of breath that was swept away quickly by the breeze.

  This time it was Guillermo who sensed Jonathan’s dismay. He turned around slowly, not ready for what he expected to see.

  “I guess that ways a … dead end,” Guillermo said with a wry smile.

  Jonathan appreciated the humor in what his friend had said. “I am really too cold to outrun them,” Jonathan conveyed solemnly.

  “We can’t give up. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

  The flood of dead bodies was moving swiftly down the street. Some of them were running ahead of the slower moving fiends. Their scratchy, deep grunts were a demonic chorus of hate and pain.

  “You cannot carry me and get away from them,” Jonathan said. “Go. I will slow them down.”

  The teen pulled the Glock out of his coat and started to walk toward the oncoming horde. Guillermo stopped him by placing a hand firmly on Jonathan’s shoulder.

  “We’ll do this together.”

  Jonathan nodded.

  They stood together as a wall between the rotting horde and the entire world. They’ve stared death in the eye more than anyone would ever want, and this time it would not only stare back, but it would take them.

  Both of them were so certain of their fate that neither felt the vibration in the street. Only when that vibration was accompanied by the sound of rolling thunder did they realize it was even there.

  Jonathan’s forehead furrowed in curiosity. He could just make out Mad Man’s semi barreling down the road. It was about a mile away. The horde would be on them first. Thoughts raced through his mind. Do we stand and fight or run or just give up here in the street?

  His survival instincts kicked in before he could decide his next course of action, and he raised the Glock. Squeezing the trigger gently, he sent a round through the head of the closest fiend, who had made it within fifteen yards of them. His dead face split open, and he dropped, tripping two other rushing fiends, effectively slowing them down.

  Guillermo ran down into the ditch and wriggled a tree branch free of its icy prison in the leaves. He took the thinner end; the thicker had a solid mass of snow and dirt built up around it, perfect for bashing the fiend’s skulls. Stepping back onto the road just in time, Guillermo swung his branch into the face of a charging fiend. It was the face of a man he’d seen earlier at the mill, and that face was just shattered by the rock hard clump of ice.

  Jonathan fired another carefully aimed shot that sent the brains of a dead woman sailing out behind her. A few more fiends tripped, but they didn’t’ stay down long. They scrambled to their feet and continued their pursuit. Another round left the barrel of the Glock, finding its target and dropping the fiend.

  Guillermo swung fiercely at the fiends that were tripped up as they climbed to their feet. His weapon worked better than expected, but it was also much heavier than he cared for. His arms, already tight from the cold, were growing too weak to keep going.

  The death moans of the fiends were accompanied by a new sound. Almost as if the drummer was beginning to warm up. Deep thump after deep thump. Jonathan realized it was the sound of the semi hitting the bodies walking in the street. It was much closer than he thought it would be, and he saw a glimpse of salvation. Firing the last of his rounds into the closest and quickest moving fiends he began walking backwards to buy some time.

  Guillermo did the same.

  The powerful diesel engine wound down as it approached, but there would still be too many fiends surrounding them for a safe pick-up. Jonathan raised his hands and made a keep coming motion that he hoped Mad Man would understand. If anyone could, it was the Mad Man.

  “Come on,” Jonathan said. “We jump on the front.” He put the Glock into his coat pocket and stuffed his hands back in his gloves.

  “I think this is gonna hurt,” Guillermo said unsure of whether he liked the thought of being hit by a semi. He swung the heavy branch, releasing it as he did. The icy end smashed into a fiend, not finishing him off, but slowing him down.

  They mustered all the strength they could and made a run for it. Jonathan’s legs were stiff, making him hobble clumsily. Guillermo helped him the best he could, but his entire body, too, was cold.

  “Here it comes!” Guillermo said as he turned his head to see behind them. Caked to the grill was the thick blood, flesh, and hair of the dozens of fiends that had once stood in its way. He cringed at the thought of having to ride with that for any amount of time.

  As the semi approached it continued to drive over fiends, adding more gore to the already foul look the grill had acquired. Guillermo and Jonathan slowed to a jog and turned just in time to jump. The semi had slowed to a reasonable crawl, but it still had the speed to knock the wind out of them both as they met the beast.

  Jonathan felt the massive amount of air being sucked in through the grill. It gave the cold air a sharp bite that made his eyes water. Or perhaps he was crying tears of joy and relief. His grip didn’t loosen until Mad Man Rob had to pry him down. And even then his fingers clutched the air.

  Michael hugged his brother tightly and together they cried as they sat criss-cross-applesauce on the bed in the back of the cab. Dog resting across
their laps.

  Jonathan wasn’t happy to be alive. He hated the fact that once again he had faced insurmountable odds and came out without so much as a scratch. So many innocent people, people who deserved to be alive far more than he, were ruthlessly slaughtered by the undead. But here he was. Alive and well.

  Chapter 27

  The smoldering rubble of the walled settlement came into view around the tree row as Mad Man Rob slowed the semi. There was just enough of a clearing through the debris to fit into the driveway, but there would be no guarantee of safety here anymore. Fortunately the place wasn’t in complete ruins. The rear half of the large garage, where Mad Man made his home, still stood.

  Gene-O had taken the passenger’s seat from his brother several miles back, and now he opened the door and began to climb out as the semi slowed. He looked around, waiting for deadies to emerge from the wreckage. None did. The ones that could move must have wandered off.

  The loud clang of sheet metal (scattered about during the explosions) clapping together echoed through the carcass of what once was a home to many survivors as the semi crept further in.

  Gene-O kept watching. Surely the noise would draw them out. None came.

  The engine shuddered as it went quiet.

  “It’s worse than we were told.” Rodney looked around stunned.

  Gene-O could only nod in agreement.

  May cupped her hands over her mouth as if to keep the gasps from pulling too much oxygen from her lungs. She looked on at her house; light tassels of smoke blew in the wind, emanating from the blackened wood that was once her home. Several tears squeezed out of their ducts despite her attempts to hold them back.

  “The camp on the north end already invited you all to stay,” Gene-O said in an attempt to comfort her. “We’ll make sure anyone that wants to go makes it there before we move on.”

  Mad Man Rob scanned the wall and found what he was looking for. His backhoe lay on its side under some planks and plywood, forgotten by the world. “If we can get that out of there I’ll have you a ride by morning.”