“Come on, we have to outrun these guys! We might be able to get into one of the hangars over there,” he said, pointing.
A glance back showed that though the two men were jogging, neither was in a great hurry. They were confident that their quarry would be captured or killed easily.
Putting on a burst of speed, the two youths ducked around the only visible airplane, a small single-prop sitting alone on the tarmac.
To Matthew it felt as if the girl were falling behind, so he reached out, took her sweaty hand in his and pulled her along, urging her with gentle tugs to move faster, faster.
They made it to the first hangar and tried the man-sized door in the front, next to the massive bay door. It was locked and no amount of frantic rattling would open it.
“Oh shit. Come on, we need a freaking break here!” Matthew yelled, seemingly to the sky, as if in prayer. Behind them he could hear the men laughing.
He grabbed the girl’s hand once more and took off for the next hangar fifty yards away instead of going for the doors further down. He wanted distance between them and the men following. Even in their terror-filled flight from the gunmen, both Matthew and the girl felt tiny, almost electric shocks, each time their hands touched.
Both of the kids sighed heavily when they found the next hangar to be shut tight as well. Only one hangar remained.
“What the hell! You got us in here, dude! These guys are gonna kill us, because you got us trapped in here!”
Matthew didn’t argue, because he knew she was right. He grabbed her hand, yanked hard, and pulled her behind. His pack bounced on his back as he charged hard for the next hangar, all while chanting “please please please.”
Behind them, the two men with guns continued on, following at a jog. From time to time one of the men would shout an obscenity or a command to stop. Their easy pace worried Matthew, as if they knew something he didn’t.
The kids hit the door on the hangar at a run, bouncing off of it with a hollow bang. The door flew open; the weak, corroded lock shattering under the force of Matthew slamming against it.
The two ducked inside quickly, slamming the door behind them and leaning against it, taking a moment to catch their breath.
“What… what are we… supposed to do now?” The girl huffed and wheezed, trying to fill tired lungs.
Just as he opened his mouth to reply, he heard the roar of the engine pulling up just outside the door, seconds later it jumped in its frame, slamming them forward, nearly unbalancing them both.
“How did they get the car in here?” The girl’s eyes were frantic.
“I don’t know! Maybe one of the gates by the runway was open, or maybe they found a weak spot and ran through the fence. We can come back and figure it out later, if you want,” he said, eyeing the girl, her wide eyes boring back into his own.
“Don’t be an ass, Matthew.”
“You kids get the hell out here and we’ll make it easy on you! Quick and painless, no one gets turned!”
“Seriously, he wants to bargain with quick death versus zombification? What the hell is wrong with this guy?”
“He’s nuts, dude,” the girl said as if it were the obvious and only explanation. “Can we figure out how the hell we’re going to get out of here? It’s not gonna take long for them to bust in here and it doesn’t look like there’s any place to go.”
Matthew looked around the hangar. Again, the girl was correct. The bay was empty space, no airplane, nothing. Across the oil-stained floor he could see a door that connected this bay to the next. He slipped off his backpack, holding it by a single strap.
“Look,” he said to the girl, “I bet it’s a service door or something, in case someone has a plane in the hangar next door.”
From outside came a rough voice, “I’m sick of waiting; get them outta there, now.”
Something slammed against the door. The girl unbalanced and stumbled forward. Matthew crashed back into the door, pressing his feet hard against the concrete, bearing down, his muscles bunching as he strained to hold the door as another hard hit rattled his bones.
“Go, try and open it, I’ll hold this!” he said through a clenched jaw.
The girl darted across the floor and tried the knob. “It’s locked!”
“Hit it, kick right by the lock, try something!”
The girl stepped back and threw an unpracticed kick at the door, succeeding only in bouncing back and falling on her backside with a painful grunt. “Matthew!”
“Hey, come here, hurry!”
The girl ran back across the bay and leaned against the door with Matthew. “What? What are we going to do?”
Matthew pulled open his pack and dug around inside while telling the girl quietly, “Listen, I need you to hold this door, I’m going to try to pop that lock.”
“What!”
“Quiet, damn it! Don’t let them hear!”
Nearly whispering, fear straining her voice, the girl said, “I can’t hold this door alone!”
Matthew cast a frantic glance around the empty hangar. In the corner, just past the door, leaned a lonely wide-head push-broom. He ran the few steps, snatched it up and came back, jamming the head under the doorknob and wedging the tip of the handle in a seam of concrete. He knew it was weak, but hoped it would hold long enough for him to get the other door open.
“I just need a minute, if I can’t get it quick, it won’t matter.” Matthew looked directly into the girls eyes. “What’s your name?”
The girl opened her mouth to protest, then said, “Casey, my name is Casey.”
“Cool. Casey,” Matthew said, as if trying out the feel of it on his tongue. He pulled a short piece of metal from his pack. Each end was clawed, with one end angled. “Claw puller,” he said holding it up.
Matthew held out a hand as if to will the door shut with some unknown power. The pack dangled from his wrist. “I’ll be…” Just as he was about to say fast the door jerked, knocking Casey forward and popping the broom loose. He lunged, slamming into it, holding it closed while she jumped back, pressing hard against it.
“I can’t, Matthew!”
Leaning close, he whispered, “Shout, loud, that there are zombies in a plane in here.”
Casey just looked at him blankly, then her eyes lit up with realization.
“Now,” Matthew said and shot toward the connecting door.
“Matthew, oh God, there are people in that plane! They’re zombies, oh shit, there are zombies in here with us, Matthew!”
Though the girl would never be a star in post-zombie Hollywood she could hear the men outside laughing loudly. One of them said, “Ok, give it a minute or two, let the zoms take care of ‘em, then we’ll go in. I want to see their dead-ass faces.”
“Oh, Matthew, what are we going to do?!”
Matthew threw a quick nod at Casey, approving of her overselling. He jammed the short angle between the door and the jamb and leaned backward, pulling. His face began to redden, he grunted with exertion and his hands wrapped around the narrow handle began to ache.
Just as he was about to give up he heard a scraping noise and he could see that the jamb was flexing just a little. Yanking hard he felt more give in the frame. Without releasing pressure, Matthew swung his weight against the door. The door rattled in the frame, and Matthew thought he could feel the bones in his shoulder rattle as well. He swung again, continuously pulling on the short pry bar. The door rattled and he readied for another swing, bracing for the impact and the pain that would follow.
Matthew’s mind raced with fantastic thoughts. Matt Hew braces, knowing that if he is to secure his safety and the freedom of the fleeing princess, he must dislodge the heavy stone blocking the portal from the Under-Realm.
The door popped open on the third swing. It shot inward, bounced off something and bounded back, striking Matthew in his already bruising shoulder. “Come on!”
Casey leapt from the door and charged hard across the empty bay and through the open doorway
, where she promptly tripped over something in the dimly lit room. Something that grabbed at her as she fell.
A low groan slid between putrid lips and black, rotting teeth. Casey screamed as the zombie pulled its way along her side, reaching for her face.
From the bay they had just left came the loud bang of a door being thrown open and the sounds of men cursing.
When the door had flown open and bounced back, it had hit the zombie, knocking it to the floor.
Matthew jumped over Casey, landing with a booted foot on the neck of the zombie. The thing pawed at his ankle with one hand while still reaching for Casey with the other. Raising his arm high overhead, Matthew bent at the waist and swung the claw puller in a wide overhand arc.
His aim was slightly off, and instead of plunging into an eye socket, the clawed tip cracked through the bridge of the nose upward at an angle, piercing the zombie’s brain and stilling its grasping hands.
A shout came from the other bay.
Dim light filtered through clouded plastic skylights above. A single-prop plane filled much of the space, though they could see that in a far corner an impromptu living space had been set up.
Dim outlines shaped an incomplete picture, though one stood out. A rifle propped against what appeared to be a case of food or water.
Matthew jumped back to the door, and pressed it closed.
“Casey, over there, in that stuff, that looks like a rifle, grab it!”
“There might be another zombie over there!”
“Were both gonna be zombies over here in a minute! Just grab it!”
“You got that right kid,” said a voice beyond the door, “You’re both getting turned, I can promise you that”
Casey was back and handing Matthew a dusty rifle with faint spots of rust on the outside of the barrel.
They both leaned against the door as Matthew pulled the bolt. A round ejected, clinking almost merrily on the concrete floor.
Casey leaned toward his ear and whispered, causing the fine hairs on the back of his neck to ripple with goosebumps “Just tell ‘em we have a gun now, maybe they’ll back off.”
Matthew cast a sidelong glance at Casey, “They aren’t going to leave unless we make them. Hold the door. Crack it open an inch when I tell you.”
Matthew positioned himself at the edge of the door and took a deep breath.
“Matt Hew grasped the ancient weapon, not fully understanding the device as he pointed it at the portal, waiting for the still-living minions of Cothak Tah,” he thought.
Matthew nodded at Casey, keeping his eyes on the doorway. The girl leaned forward and cracked the door. Beyond, Matthew could see the dim shape of a man. He slipped the barrel of the rifle into the crack at about waist height, angled it upward slightly and pulled the trigger.
The crack of the rifle inside the confines of the hangar resounded like a thunderclap directly inside Matthew’s head, rattling his brain. The rifle jerked from his hand and clattered to the floor. Casey screamed, clapping her hands to her ears a moment too late.
Matthew grabbed the rifle and threw himself against the door, breathing deeply. Listening to the men on the other side of the door was like trying to eavesdrop with his head pressed against a pillow. The ringing in his ears didn’t help, either.
Through the door, as if from a tunnel, the two heard, “You shot Ken, you shits!”
“Just leave us alone! We don’t want this.”
Muffled whispers filtered through his cotton-stuffed hearing.
The voice that had promised to turn them both said, “Fine, fuck you kids, we’re leaving, but don’t you ever let me catch you in New Roads again or I’ll skin you both and turn your sorry asses!”
Footsteps moved away. A different voice asked, “What about Ken?”
“Fuck him, he’ll bleed out and turn in a few minutes. Leave him as a present for those two.”
“Damn, Landry, that’s cold.”
“Yeah, well, Ken was on watch when that girl snuck in and tried stealing our damn food, Tony, so screw him. Poetic justice and all that.”
The voices began to fade and Matthew rested back against the door, hanging his head.
“What now? What do we do now? They said they’re leaving, let’s get out of here. We can go out through the other door.”
Casey pointed at the bay door and its inset normal sized doorway.
Matthew glanced at the door, then back to Casey, his eyes distant and confused.
“Matthew? You ok? We have to hurry up and get out of here in case they change their minds and come back.”
Noticing how tightly he was gripping the gun, Casey walked over and placed her hand on his wrist. “Have you… you know, had to do that before?”
Face toward the floor, eyes focusing on a grease spot, Matthew replied, “Kill a person? Yeah, once. I can… kill the zoms easy, they aren’t, you know, real people anymore.”
“Matthew, look, look at me.”
Matthew lifted his face and looked into Casey’s eyes.
“It had to be done. You did it. Now we have to move on. You want to lose your shit over it later when we’re safe, that’s good, I’ll join you, but right now. I need you.”
Matthew grinned faintly at her blunt words. It was easy to just lose himself in her deep green eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, ok.” He looked at the far exit door again. The dead-bolt had an interior thumb-turn. They could walk right out. “Hang on.”
Matthew stood and cracked the door, peering out. The door they had entered through hung open, light brightening the empty space. In front of the door he was behind lay Ken, a bleeding hole in his stomach, and a pool of blood spreading out beneath.
The bleeding man raised a hand, and Matthew twitched.
“Don’t let me turn, kid. I’m real sorry about all this, just please don’t let me turn.” Blood pooled and spilled from the dying man’s mouth.
Matthew turned back and spoke quietly, “Casey, see if there are any more bullets for the rifle over in that stuff, we’ll ditch it soon, but I want extra ammo just in case. If there’s anything good, like food or water or anything, we can come back for it another day.” If we get another day. He kept the thought to himself.
Casey found two boxes of ammunition for the rifle. The side of the box read .30-30 WIN 180 Grain. “I think these are the bullets.”
Matthew held out his hand, took the boxes and dropped them into his backpack without looking. He turned and started for the door they had entered.
“Matthew?”
He glanced back at Casey and pressed a finger to his lips. The girl nodded and came close.
“We can’t trust those guys to actually leave,” he whispered. “I think they’re probably right outside that door or the first door we came in. I’m going to check that one, then I’ll peek out, see if they’re waiting down at the other door.”
Casey nodded, following closely. Matthew stooped, and ripped the small pry bar from the dead zombie’s skull, splattering bits of gray bone and stinking brain matter onto his pants. He wiped it casually on the zombie’s clothing and held it with his left hand. In his right he carried the rifle.
Casey went through into the first hangar, Matthew followed. After stepping over the prone form of Ken, Matthew turned, and regarded the man with a wary eye. He tapped at Ken’s side with the toe of his boot.
Ken’s eyes fluttered open, taking a second to focus. “Don’t want to…turn.”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “You have a gun?”
“No ammo,” Ken mumbled. His eyelids fluttered.
“Damn it.” Matthew turned to face Casey. “We can’t just leave him here, in case we come back, or can’t leave.” He looked down at the man dying on the hard concrete floor in a pool of his own blood. “I don’t want to…” His voice trailed off.
“Matthew, Matty, it has to be done. Give me that spike thingy, I’ll do it.”
Matthew was taken aback by the tenderness in her voice and the use of a nickname only his immediate fam
ily had ever really used, to everyone else he’d always been either Matthew or Matt. “No, I’ll do it.” He passed Casey the gun, hefted the claw puller and leaned over the dying man. Hesitation meant he would never be able to do it.
With a single quick stroke, Matthew buried the point deep into Ken’s brain through his eye. He refused to dwell on the gore, and looking away he yanked the tool free, wiped it on the sleeve of Ken’s shirt, and walked away, taking the gun from Casey as he strode for the door.
Just inside the door, Matthew stopped and retched, heaving up only a bit of bile and nothing else.
5
The two waited just inside the door until they heard the rumble of the car as it started up and roared away. Matthew poked his head out the door and looked in both directions, to see if the men had posted someone outside the exit door of the hangar they had just been in. No one was waiting for them.
Speaking over his shoulder, Matthew said, “It can’t be that easy, can it? I mean, those guys are just gonna leave, after all that?”
“They’re afraid of the gun.”
Leaning back into the building, Matthew said, “No, I don’t think they’ll leave that easily.”
“Maybe they went around to wait near your bike, you know, ambush us if we go back for it.”
Matthew turned to look more fully at Casey. “That’s a damn good thought.”
“Why do you look so surprised, dude? I’m not as stupid as you look.”
The slow grin on her face gave Matthew a pleasant feeling in his stomach. He laughed and turned to gaze out the door once more. Unable to formulate a witty reply, he said, “We have two options, wait until dark to get out of here, or hope you’re right and sneak out the back way while they wait up by the bike.”
“Matthew, I really don’t want to be out in the dark.” The fear in her voice was real and easy to hear.
“I don’t either, but without the bike we have to walk back to my place. From here it’s probably ten miles.”
Casey moaned at the thought of the long walk, some of it in the dark.
American Revenant (Short Story 2): Dead South Page 3
