"Not really," said Maylee, bracing herself as the boar raced toward them. She raised her bat over her head.
The boar drew close, snorting angrily into the cold air.
"I'm thinking we should run," said Dalton.
"No. It will catch us. It's too fast." She kept her bat over her head. She would have to be fast and hit hard. If the boar kept coming they would have nowhere to go. They were boxed in.
For a moment there was a glimmer of a younger her. She felt sorry for the animal rushing toward her in a blind rage. Then the glimmer was gone and she slammed down with all her strength on the boar's skull. Blood shot out in all directions. Its chin rammed into the snow, its momentum pushing it forward as it slid to a halt.
It grunted, struggling to get up, staring at Maylee with one eye. The eye screamed hatred. The other eye was mashed into the snow.
"Dammit," said Maylee, raising her bat again.
"I got it," came a man's voice to her right. It was North, the guard with the bristled goatee. He rushed closer and leveled his rifle at the boar. He fired once into the boar's back. The boar grunted and was still, its blood spreading out into the snow.
"Thanks, North. Did you see how it got in?"
He shook his head. "Nope, sure didn't."
"Look out!" yelled Dalton from behind them both.
Maylee looked over North's shoulder. A pack of boars - Maylee counted eight or nine - raced toward them.
"Out of the way!" yelled Maylee, grabbing North's collar and pulling him toward her.
"What?" said North, twisting his head around as he stumbled. "Oh shit," he said when he saw the boars. He started bringing his rifle around to shoot.
"No time for that!" yelled Maylee. "Run!"
"You said they were too fast!" said Dalton.
"We don't have a choice!" yelled Maylee. "Go!"
The three of them ran. Maylee heard the boars skid in the snow as they changed direction. She didn't dare slow down to look, knowing they would need every second.
Walls of metal raced by. Shacks and campers, old rusted barrels. Maylee's own breath and pounding footsteps echoed around her. Dalton ran in front of her, and she could hear North behind her. And behind that, the angry snorts and pounding feet of the boars.
The button came back into view. Without slowing down, Maylee smacked it with her free hand. A grinding of gears told her it was working. She glanced behind to see thick barbed wire snap up from the snow, strung taut between gears hidden among the buildings.
Grunting and squealing, the boars tripped over the wires. Several fell across the snow, breaking limbs and tripping the others. They thrashed in pain and anger. The boars at the back climbed over them, not slowing down. They made it past and kept running.
"Well shit," said Maylee, turning her head to face front and kept running. Dalton and North pounded along with her.
They were halfway to the end of the alley when North fell. The rhythm of his running faltered, followed by a whump in the snow. "No," she heard him say. Maylee stopped, turning.
He was screaming before she finished turning around. The boars were upon him. He was on his back, holding up his hands to block. The first boar to reach him grunted and rammed its head and tusks into his stomach. He screamed and blood seeped from around the boar's tusks. The boar whipped its head back and forth furiously, tearing holes in North's body.
"North!" yelled Maylee, rushing toward him, bat ready. She knew it was too late. She knew they would have to leave him.
The other boars reached North, goring and trampling. They huffed and stomped, grinding his body into the snow. He screamed and gurgled, his struggles growing weaker. Maylee stopped running, staring for a second.
"Shit," she said. "I'm sorry, North."
One of the boars stopped its frenzied trampling and looked at her. It snorted angrily into the cold air.
"We gotta go," said Dalton, coming up behind her. She nodded.
They both ran as the boars finished North and turned on them.
* * *
Angie whipped her gaze around as a new scream echoed among the buildings. It wasn’t the scream Maylee had rushed to respond to. It was closer, too. A second scream quickly followed. Elton had already rushed off in a different direction. The square was empty but for Angie, Dunwoody, Walsh and a small cluster of townsfolk.
A group of corpses stumbled into the square, groaning and reaching. They were half-frozen, their brittle skin breaking with each movement. Frozen black blood coated their arms. The townsfolk backed away, looking for escape routes. The corpses had come in using the two main exits from the square. Everyone was boxed in.
"Everyone! Into the truck!" Angie ordered.
She spun around, grabbing the tailgate and pulling it down. The townsfolk rushed across the snow. Dunwoody and Walsh opened fire into the corpses. A few fell, holes blown through their skulls. The rest kept coming.
Angie stepped aside from the truck as the townsfolk clambered into the bed. She bent to help the last - an elderly woman - climb up. A younger woman in the truck grabbed the elderly woman's arms and pulled. Grunting, the old woman made it inside. Angie pushed up the tailgate and slammed it shut.
"Everyone stay there!" Angie yelled. The townsfolk looked like they had no intention of doing otherwise. Angie turned to face the corpses.
"There's a lot of them ma'am!" yelled Walsh, firing. A corpse jerked as the side of its face exploded outward. It kept coming. The boy's bullet had not found brain. "We may need to open the gate and get the hell outside."
"No time," said Angie. "They'll reach the truck before we get the gate open. Just keep firing." She put her back against the tailgate, gripping her cane handle. The corpses drew closer, groaning and clutching.
"Ma'am..." said Walsh.
"Dunwoody!" yelled Angie. "Get back in the truck and start the engine!"
"You said there was no time!" said Walsh as Dunwoody scrambled for the truck.
"Not for opening the gate," said Angie.
The corpses came closer, reaching and groaning. Their frozen skin cracked as they moved. They worked their rotten teeth up and down, frozen tongues moving back and forth inside grey mouths.
The engine started behind Angie.
"Come on," she whispered at the approaching corpses. She clenched the handle of her cane.
She waited a few more seconds, the corpses drawing nearer. The townsfolk huddled in the truck bed murmured nervously.
"Hold on back there, everyone!" she yelled. "Dunwoody! Throw it into reverse and gun it!"
Angie ducked to one side as the truck engine revved. The truck rocketed backward, slamming into the corpses. Some flew backward into the snow. Most fell under the tires of the truck. Angie heard bones snap and corpses groan. The truck jerked to a halt, the spinning wheels crunching over two corpse skulls. The corpses' heads imploded. Black muck shot out across the snow.
The townsfolk fell forward as the truck stopped abruptly. One, a blonde woman named Patty, almost fell out of the truck entirely. Several in the truck caught her arm as her head and torso hung out of the truck bed, leaning downward toward the snow. She screamed as a corpse who had been knocked backward drew near.
The corpse, an older man with deep gouges down his forearms and frozen pus streaking from his eyes, grabbed Patty's hair. "Get it off! Get it off!" yelled Patty. Walsh leveled his gun at the man's head.
"Too close, Walsh!" yelled Angie. "I got this one!"
She rushed back to the truck bed, lifting her cane to hold it in both hands. She twisted the handle toward herself and pulled on the lower half of the cane. It pulled free, revealing a long thin blade attached to the handle. She dropped the cane and grabbed the sword with both hands.
The corpse leaned in to Patty, its yellow teeth snapping. She screamed.
Grunting, Angie, slammed the sword into the corpse’s temple. The corpse's neck snapped sideways as the blade slid into its skull. She met resistance and the blade stopped. The corpse hissed at her.
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"Oh fuck off," said Angie, twisting the blade and shoving it forward. The resistance gave way and the blade slid further in. It came out the other side, spilling brain and black muck down the corpse's cheek. The corpse gurgled and slumped. Angie let it fall, pointing the blade downward until the corpse slid free. It crumpled into the snow, still.
"Thanks," gasped Patty, pulling herself back into the truck. Dunwoody opened the driver-side door and climbed out, rifle ready.
Angie nodded and looked around. Three more corpses had survived the truck. They were righting themselves, their frozen bodies jerking as they moved. They groaned and hissed.
She pointed the blade to two of them in turn. "Dunwoody, that one! Walsh, that one!"
She moved as quickly as she could toward the third corpse. It was an old woman with no ears and deep black wounds in her scalp. Angie heard Dunwoody’s and Walsh's rifles crack. The two corpses she'd indicated jerked as their foreheads imploded. They fell, leaving only the old woman. She hissed as Angie drew near.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Angie. She grabbed the woman's hair with one hand and pulled her chin down toward the sword as she held it upward. The woman's head rammed onto the blade. Angie twisted the blade and shoved it upward. The woman jerked and gurgled. Black glop spilled downward onto her hands. Angie was glad the cold weather required gloves. The woman slumped forward. Angie jerked the blade free and let her go. The corpse fell, crumpling into the snow.
Angie ran her gloved hand along the blade to clean it. She wiped her gloves on her pants and walked, wincing and limping, back to where she'd dropped her cane. She picked it up and slid the blade back in. She twisted the handle to lock it into place. She put the cane to the ground and leaned on it, panting, looking to Dunwoody and Walsh.
Then Maylee and Dalton raced from around a corner. "Look out!" yelled Maylee. Angie turned to look.
A group of large wild boars followed them. They looked angry and ready to kill. Several of them were coated in blood.
"Open the gate!" yelled Maylee, running as hard as she could. The boars were close behind. There were maybe six. They left a trail of bloody prints in the snow behind them.
"What?" yelled Angie.
"The gate!" yelled Maylee. "Open it! Hurry!"
"There's no time!" yelled Angie.
"There's too many of them!" yelled Maylee. "We have to get to a bigger area!" Maylee was halfway across the entryway. As soon as she and Dalton stopped, the boars would be on top of them.
"Shit," said Angie. "She's right. Dunwoody! Ram the gate!"
"What?" yelled Dunwoody, running to the truck.
"We'll fix it later! Just get it open!"
Dunwoody threw open the truck door and climbed in. Maylee and Dalton ran toward them. The boars were close behind.
* * *
Maylee ran as the truck revved to life. She was headed straight for the gate, pumping her legs as hard as she could. Part of her brain screamed at her to stop. If the gate wasn't open before she reached it, she'd probably break something running into it full-speed. Then the boars behind her would finish her off. She pushed the thought down and kept running.
"Everyone down!" yelled Mom. The townsfolk in the truck bed crouched down, bracing themselves. The engine roared. The truck spun sharply in the snow, then raced for the gates.
With a huge crash and crunch of metal, the truck rammed the gates. The various scraps of metal that had been nailed together broke apart. A large piece flipped over the cab of the truck, narrowly missing those crouched in the back. Maylee dodged it as it slammed into the snow a few feet away. She could hear the boars close behind.
She leapt over a piece of the gates and raced out into the open field outside World Memorial. In the corner of her eye she could see Dalton running next to her. She heard the boars race over the metal pieces of the gate, their feet pounding and clanging.
"Maylee!" yelled Mom from somewhere behind them. "Dalton!"
"Not now, Mom," muttered Maylee, racing toward a large piece of the gate that had fallen far from the entrance. "Dalton! Follow me!"
"Really?" said Dalton. "What the heck do you think I'm doing?"
"Not now, Dalton!" she yelled, reaching the large sheet of metal. She dropped to her knees, skidding to a stop. She whipped her bat around to her back and slipped it behind the belt strung across her chest. She grabbed the hunk of metal, glad at how thick it felt in her hands. "Get behind me!"
Dalton reached her and dropped to his knees behind her. Maylee turned on her knees and caught a glimpse of the approaching boars. Their eyes were crazed, their feet and tusks coated in blood. They snorted and huffed as they raced forward.
Maylee slammed the metal sheet down in front of her and Dalton. "Help me!" she yelled.
Dalton came up behind her and grabbed hold. They both braced themselves as the first boar slammed into the metal. It sent painful shock waves through Maylee's arms and back. The rest of the boars hit, one after the other in quick succession. Each blow pushed the metal sheet a little closer to her and Dalton.
Finally, the last boar hit. One final shudder went through Maylee and the sheet slid so close her breath steamed against it. She and Dalton panted in silence.
"I think that's the last of them," said Dalton.
Maylee let go. Dalton followed suit and the sheet fell forward onto the mound of boars. A few of them grunted underneath, but the rest were still. Those who hadn't broken their necks in blind fury were too injured to be an immediate threat.
She looked across the field to see Mom hurrying toward them. Walsh and Dunwoody were climbing out of the truck, which had stopped parallel to the wall. They hurried to the back to help the townsfolk climb out.
"You guys okay?" asked Mom as she limped across the field.
Maylee nodded. "Yeah."
"Shit, Maylee," said Mom. "You've got to be more careful."
Then the wind stirred.
* * *
Angie's back tightened as the wind grew stronger. Wind was common these days. Strong wind was common these days. This was neither.
The others sensed it too. They looked around anxiously.
"We gotta get back inside," said Patty, still looking shaken from almost being bitten.
Angie looked to Maylee and Dalton across the field. Maylee was pulling Dalton down into the snow. They both laid flat. "No, there's no time."
A huge gust of wind blew through, shaking ice from the trees. The ice cracked and fell, pounding large holes into the snow.
"Everyone behind the truck!" yelled Angie.
Everyone rushed for the side of the truck closest to the town walls. Angie, Dunwoody and Walsh hurried them as quickly as they could. A second gust of wind ripped through the area, sending clouds of snow everywhere.
With a gust so strong it shook the truck, the wind exploded around them. Snow and ice whipped all around. Angie and the others put their heads down as the wind screamed overhead. The truck shuddered as mounds of snow rammed into it.
"Everyone hold on!" yelled Angie, gripping the edge of the truck bed. Her voice was almost immediately lost in the howling wind around them. The walls of World Memorial shook and groaned behind her.
The truck shifted in the snow as the wind rammed against it, moving it toward Angie and the others.
Angie cursed to herself, but her voice didn’t even reach her own ears.
The truck shifted again, moving the group back toward the wall. The wind roared. Snow pelted Angie and the others.
"Everyone push!" yelled Angie, straightening her back and pushing against the truck. From the blur of white in the corner of her vision, she saw those around her doing the same.
The truck moved again, further toward the wall. Angie and the others took a step back. Angie tried to get a better footing, pushing as hard as she could. The wind was too strong.
The truck shifted. They all stepped backward, their feet slipping in the ice and snow. Keeping her head down and out of the wind, Angie looked behind her. The wal
l was just a few feet away. The wind roared around them. It showed no signs of stopping. If the truck shifted a few more feet, she and the others would be pinned against the wall. A foot after that, they would be crushed.
The truck shifted. "Everyone down!" Angie yelled as loud as she could, her voice hoarse in the violent wind. She let go of the truck and knelt down, pulling Dunwoody down with her. The others saw and followed.
The truck shook and moved an inch closer to Angie's head. "Under the truck!" Angie yelled, motioning with her cane.
She and the others fell to their stomachs and inched under the truck. The truck shook overhead. Angie pushed her face down into the snow. The wind howled around them. Snow and ice flew under the truck, pelting everyone.
With a loud groan, the truck slid overhead and slammed into the wall, shaking it. The wind roared and snow pelted her and the others, sheets of it flying under the truck.
Finally, gradually, the wind began to die.
* * *
Maylee panted into the snow. She was flat on her stomach, the wind screaming overhead. She had no idea where Dalton was. She'd done her best to hold on to him—to secure them both—but the wind had been too strong. It had tossed them around in the snow and torn Dalton from her grasp. She'd screamed for him, but her voice had been lost in the wind.
Finally it began to calm. The roaring in her ears grew quieter and the pelting snow tapered off.
"Dalton!" She heard nothing but the dying wind.
The wind slowed further, then stopped. A last tiny piece of ice flew into her hair. It was over.
She heard groaning nearby. Really nearby. She lifted her head and looked in front of her. A corpse lay on its back, its head bent backward and staring at her. It opened and closed its mouth, straining to bite. It jerked and heaved, thrashing its limbs in the snow as it struggled to right itself.
"Fuck," said Maylee, pushing away from the corpse and scrambling to her feet. She pulled her bat from the strap across her back. The corpse groaned and reached up at her. She guessed they had been blown together in the windstorm.
World Memorial Page 9
