“What happened?” Roz asked. She stood close to me, so I reached out to touch her in the dark, just to reassure myself that she was really there. Of all the close calls, this one had been the worst. I was left gasping for air.
“I slipped.”
“No, what happened just now?”
“I was in the back of the house keeping an eye out when I saw them coming. About a thousand of those things. I ran out to warn you.”
“So you went out on a rescue mission? Are you stupid?”
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t ask you to save me. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, and those things would have devoured you. Where would that leave me and Joel? Inside the house, filled with guilt and your food. That’s where.”
“Chivalry’s dead, man.”
“But being a decent human being isn’t. Not yet. Not with Joel Kelly and Jackson Fucking Creed on the case.”
She let out a light giggle, and that was enough for me.
Roz touched my hand, took it in hers and squeezed. I squeezed back. We stood in the dark and didn’t speak for long moments. My breathing was still harsh and came in ragged gasps.
Thumping on the door that grew in intensity. I’d seen this before, the second or third day in the city. The dead had trapped a poor soul in a hotel room and battered at the door and window until both broke. The screams came moments later.
Joel and I had been hidden in a convenience store across the street. The door had probably been busted off the hinges by looters. We crouched and stared at each other with wide, wild eyes. I was scared to death that at any moment one of those things was going to get wind of us.
We managed to keep quiet for a couple of hours while the dead feasted on their prize and then eventually wandered off. Funny how hiding makes you patient. A week ago I would have been going stir crazy from having nothing to do but wait. Back then I had my games and cell phone. I even had a crappy tablet I’d won in a game of spades. I could hang out and read Facebook or surf the web. Being stuck in that store while we contemplated life and death made me shut the fuck up with a quickness.
Roz and I only had one choice and it was in my right hand. Seven or eight shots were enough. I only needed two.
“We’re fucked,” Roz said.
“No back door?”
“Nope. Dad had this thing delivered and mounted on a concrete slab fifteen years ago. It’s not even a real garage. It’s just a bunch of wooden siding held together with bubblegum.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t think making a run for it is an option, yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean no. Think we can kick out a wall?”
“Probably…but the noise.”
“Yeah,” I said.
Roz folded herself into me and stood there for a minute. She touched my chest and then felt to my shoulder, then down my arm. Shit, was I about to go out with a smile?
Her hand stopped at the handgun.
“How many rounds do you have?”
“Enough.”
“Okay, but last resort. If they get in here, do it. Don’t tell me it’s coming; just do it so I’m not scared out of my pants.”
“I bet you look good out of your pants,” I said.
“Guess you’ll never know in the dark, huh? Maybe we should be quiet. See? I’m coming up with a plan.”
“That’s the plan?”
“Yeah. If we’re quiet, maybe they’ll get bored and leave.”
I didn’t see that happening but I also didn’t see anything wrong with holding Roz against me for a little bit longer. It’d been a long time since I held a woman and if I was about to die, I could think of worse ways to go.
Our respite was short lived. The pounding on the door picked up with gusto. I hugged Roz tighter and closed my eyes.
*mumble mumble.*
“What?” I asked the darkness.
“Someone's yelling.”
“Joel. Who else would start making a fuss? Think he’s going to go into Marine mode and lead them away?”
“I hope not,” Roz said.
“Me too.” I nodded in the dark. I liked Joel right where he was – alive and ready to carry on the fight.
More mumbled shouts.
The banging on the door increased and I was sure they were about to break in. The door flexed, so we took up station in front of it and pushed back. It might not stop them for long, but it was better than giving up.
More mumbles but they were overridden by the moans outside. So many voices and many of them just making guttural sounds. It didn’t make any sense. I did, however, make out was the clicks and scrabbling of at least one shuffler.
Something thumped against the garage so hard I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d like to say we were brave, but I was just about to go find a corner to shit in. If I didn’t, my pants were going to be filled, and I didn’t want my Mom’s worst fear to be realized. She would have to bury my corpse in my dirty skivvies.
Something else thumped. I looked up because the sound had come from there. Jesus, did a shuffler make it that high? I’d seen them leap, but not that damn far. The roof was flat, but it was still a good twelve feet high.
Something smashed into the roof and this time I aimed the gun. More mumbled shouts.
“What in the hell!” Roz yelled. She reached for me and found my hand. I gave hers a squeeze and tried to act brave which was really hard to do in the pitch black.
Light crept under the garage door every time one of the Z’s hit it. As the beating grew faster it looked like we were standing under a strobe light.
The door buckled and almost went down. A spring on one side gave way with a twanging pop. The Z’s beat at the door even harder. I pushed back, but one hard crash almost sent me to my knees. That would be one of the shufflers.
More noise from the roof.
I tugged Roz to me. I embraced her and put her head against my chest. It wasn’t really a romantic way to go out and not something I’d ever plan. If this was some Romeo and Juliet fucked up zombie movie, that’s how it would end. I guess I’d just put the gun to her head and pull the trigger, then, if it didn’t pass through her head and into my chest, I’d put it under my chin. The dead could feast on my corpse.
Still, I’d love to kill one more shuffler before I went down. I hated those things.
Something crashed into the roof. Something heavy enough to shake the entire building—speaking of shufflers.
Another crash and light poured in from above.
“Get your asses up here!” Joel yelled.
Something sharp smashed into the roof and tore a hole the size of a softball. He was using an entrenching tool to rip the roof an asshole. Son of a bitch, Joel. Son of a bitch.
The dead renewed their efforts to get us. The thumping was bad enough, but now Joel was offering us a way out – if there was time.
“Can you find some way to get us up there?” I asked Roz.
“What about the door?”
“Just make us a ladder. I’ll hold the door.” I smiled in the dim light because I knew it was probably a death sentence.
She moved away and used the light from above to gather up a few items. Now that I could see, it was clear that the garage was a veritable death trap. Tools lay on benches, and there was a chainsaw that I briefly thought of trying to use if the Z’s got through the door.
A couple of mowers lay in disrepair with wheels and machine parts in buckets and bins. There was enough furniture in the room to fill a two-story house, most of it stacked against the wall.
Joel ripped up a chunk of roof and tossed it aside. He looked in and I waved, but with the dust and dark I doubted he could make us out.
“I can see you!” Roz yelled.
She worked at a pile of old wooden chairs, tossing them under the hole Joel was creating. He dug in with the small shovel and then ripped up yet another piece along with a huge pile of pink insulation.
The dead grew furious, judging
by the way they pounded at the door. I pushed back, and just when I thought they were going to give it a rest, something hit the door hard enough to knock off another spring.
“Shufflers. We need to hurry!” Joel yelled.
“Then hurry.”
“Get your ass up here and dig. I bet they’ll let you through.”
I flipped him the bird.
The door buckled and almost caved in. I put my back into it but there were fingers wriggling between the frame and the broken door. A hand poked through, so I dragged the gun up, estimated where the head was attached to the body, and put a round through the thick wood. The hand stopped feeling around and went limp.
“Almost got it!” Joel yelled and ripped up another piece of roof.
Roz climbed up onto the contraption she’d built and stood on unsteady legs as the chair wobbled, balanced on two other chairs. Was I supposed to get out on that thing?
She reached up; Joel Kelly caught her hands and pulled. Another pair of hands came down and grabbed her forearms and then she was yanked up. Craig or Christy, those two wonderful kids, had decided to help. I grinned.
My gratitude was short lived.
My skin crawled and my belly clenched when the door gave way. I pulled away and just avoided being crushed under it and about a hundred stinking dead people that wanted to eat me.
Do you know the dread? Can you imagine what their reek is like? It’s hell, pure hell and those teeth... Most still have teeth, but others have snapped and cracked chompers that are the nastiest things you have ever seen outside of a pit of bloated corpses rotting in the sun.
I made it two steps, thought I felt breath on the back of my neck, then spun and shot a shuffler in mid-leap. She had both hands up, her mouth a furious grin of madness. I swear she was gibbering. A couple of fingers had been chewed to the knuckle and that was probably what saved me, because her nasty hand wasn’t able to keep a grip on my arm.
My first shot missed. I took a few steps back as every fiber of my body screamed that I needed to run. I fired one more time and, this time, did some damage. The bullet ripped through her body laterally but didn’t stop the damned woman.
I reached the chairs and crawled up the first level while the garage filled. I had only seconds and one mistake would be the end of me. I’d be pulled into the mass so fast that there wouldn’t be time to blow my brains out.
I shot a Z in the chest because I didn’t have time to get a good bead. The bullet punched into flesh and knocked it aside.
Up to the second set of chairs and then I could almost reach the roof.
The chair rocked under my feet but I dared not look down. If I did, I was sure one of them would have me.
I leapt up and the chair wobbled to the side.
Fingertips. That’s all I managed to hold on with.
Joel grabbed an arm and pulled. Craig grabbed my other arm, and if not for them, I would have gone back down into the mass.
Another shuffler smashed into the chairs and I was left dangling like a side of beef.
“Fucking get me out of here!” I yelled in an unintended falsetto.
“We’re trying, you fucking ox,” Joel said as he strained.
Joel’s face was full of worry, visible even behind his thick shades. He gasped for breath and threw his body into it. I rose into the air a few precious inches and managed to get a grip on the edge of the hole.
I pulled my legs up close to my body as something else grabbed at my boots. A hand got a hold of my pant leg and I was stretched between my rescuers and my would-be consumers.
I’m pretty sure I screamed like a little girl.
Roz leaned over and grabbed a wrist. Together, the three of them pulled me up. I kicked down and dislodged the hand on my pant leg. Another kick caught the shuffler in the head.
It gibbered as it fell away. The bitch’s head was covered in wisps of hair and her eyes were sunken in like the orbs of a skeleton. Blood coated her body, but most of it was by her mouth. She struck the mob below and used them as a trampoline.
I was so sickened that I sat down with my feet dangling inside the garage, took aim, and shot her in the head. Her mouth moved and something like words came out, but they didn’t mean anything. She stopped making noises when my round split her skull. Take that, you sick fuck.
“Thank you, Joel. Thank you for saving us.” I reached out to offer a manly shake-thing that turned into a half-hearted hug until he pushed my hands away.
“You’d do the same for me,” Joel said. “You might wish you were still down there.”
“Why in the hell would I wish that?” I asked but trailed off when I saw the new horizon.
I rose on shaking legs, my body exhausted as adrenaline faded away. The sun was an unholy blaze that illuminated a fresh nightmare. All around the house there were the dead. Nothing but the dead. On and on the horde stretched, and more were on the way.
We were trapped in the middle of Undeadville with no escape.
“What do we do now?”
Joel shrugged and picked up his AR-15 and popped the magazine. He gave it a quick shake and slid it back home with a click.
“I guess we wait and hope they go away.”
Below, the front door to the house gave in with a crash. Great; that was the second fortress we’d lost in two days.
Craig and Roz sat to the side to watch the Z’s gather. Roz sat down and touched her fingers to her forehead, then down to her chest, and then side to side while muttering something about el Diablo.
“How’d you even get up here?”
Joel pointed at his entrenching tool and then looked at the house. They’d come out through the roof, jumped the couple of feet that separated the buildings and then gotten us out.
Christy popped out of the hole in the house a few seconds later and slung a couple of backpacks onto the roof. She took a deep breath and pulled herself up. Craig made the three-foot leap onto the home and helped her cross.
They both joined us and collapsed in a heap.
“I got what I could but they broke into the house.”
“All that food and water,” Roz said and shook her head.
“At least we’re still alive.” I tried to sound cheerful but it was cut off by the moans of the dead. A shuffler threw itself at the side of the garage and fell into the crowd below.
“Yeah. This is terrific.” Joel said.
Joel had managed to make it out of the house with his assault rifle. He sat with it cradled in his arms.
The ocean of the dead stretched around us until they covered the ground in every direction.
This is Machinist Mate First Class Jackson Creed and I am still alive. For now…
Reinforcements
04:35 hours approximate
Location: Undead Central, San Diego CA
Supplies:
Food: zip
Weapons: almost zip
The roof. The roof. The roof is surrounded by the fucking dead. We just need a fire to make the mother....you get the idea.
I’m not much for long speeches. After a while all of the words sort of run into each other and become a drone. Joel Kelly also wasn’t a fan of long speeches and beat me to it with this perfect summary: “We are so fucked.”
You’d think a Marine would have a little more dignity or some words of wisdom. If John Wayne was playing the part of a Marine at Anzio and the enemy surrounded our little group of survivors, I’m sure he’d have some powerful words for the troops. Big words about glory and how it’s a fighter’s duty to destroy the bad guys.
Our troops just lowered their heads and hid. It wasn’t hard. Since full dark we’d tried to sleep. The effort was there, but I had sand paper in my eyes from listening to the moans all night.
The house was full of dead. The garage was packed with the dead. The area around us as far as the eye could see was surrounded by the dead. So many dead it was like an ocean. They were out there in their rotted masses really stinking up the place. They groaned, moa
ned, and snarled. Christy lay on her side and tried to muffle them out with her hands. Craig stared back at them defiantly. That’s what a kid’s bravado is good for, right there. I had no such illusions.
“How did this mess happen?” Roz asked. She was covered in sweat and blood – not her own blood, but that of her dad and the Z’s that had chased us into the garage. I’d shot a shuffler in mid-leap and blood had splattered liberally. It was probably the single best shot I’d made in my week in the city and no one even saw it. I should get a fucking medal for that blast. I settled for being alive.
“At least we're alive.” I said. I got a whole pat on the hand for that.
“Why don’t we sneak back into the house? Close the door. Lock it. Then we kill all the zombies. We’ll be safe then,” Christy whispered.
Girl didn’t realize that we couldn’t just take our chances like that. One bite was all it took.
“Will that work?” Craig asked and flipped one of the shufflers the bird.
“Not a chance.” I broke the bad news. “We’d probably all die trying.”
The shuffler hissed at Craig. He sniffed the air, looked at his slower moving brethren, and then put his hand in his mouth and bit off a finger.
The Z’s left him alone while he chewed on his own digit.
Craig lay back down, so I did the same. Maybe if we stayed out of sight long enough the Z’s would lose interest and wander away.
“Why do they do that?” Craig asked quietly.
“Why do they do what?”
“Act like they’re afraid of the crawly dudes.”
“The slow ones?” I asked.
“Yeah. They even act like they understand the weird ones.”
“We call them shufflers.”
“Shuffler? Like they deal cards?”
“No. On account of that shuffle step they use when they walk. It’s like a stuttering motion they can’t control. We thought they were running around on broken bones or maybe weren’t fully turned or some shit.”
“Watch your language around the kids,” Roz warned.
“Language?” I blinked.
“Doesn’t bother me, dude,” Craig said.
“How old are you?” I asked.
Z-Risen (Book 1): Outbreak Page 10
