Undead Flesh

by Dennis McDonald

  “Shit!” Jack rushed forward and slammed it back down. “You got a way to lock this?”

  “Yeah.” The kid ran to a hook on the nearby wall and removed a padlock. “Give me a second.”

  “Hurry,” Jack said, using his weight to keep the door from rolling up. “I can’t hold it much longer.”

  The kid returned and slid the lock through a hasp located on the floor and locked down the door. The zombies continued pounding against it in an effort to get in.

  “What the hell’s happening?” he said, shooting a fearful glance at the door.

  “A fucking nightmare, that’s what,” Jack said above the noise. “Listen, I’ve had one hell of a morning, and I’m in no mood for bullshit. Is there another way inside this building besides the front door and this garage door?”

  “There’s the roof access.” He nodded toward a row of metal rungs mounted on the wall and leading to a hatch in the ceiling. “It’s bolted shut from the inside.”

  Jack pointed to a narrow wooden door in a corner of the garage. “Where does that go?”

  “Employees restroom. It’s just a toilet and a sink. There’s a small window high up in the wall, but no one can get through it.”

  “The zombies can’t get in here with the garage door and the front door locked?”

  “Not without breaking in.”

  “Good.”

  The pounding against the door quieted down and the mob of zombies returned to their mindless shuffling. Jack let out a long breath of relief.

  The kid stared out the window at the unreal spectacle. “I can’t believe it. Man, just look at all the zombies walking around the parking lot. It’s like something out of a PlayStation game, yo.”

  “I promise you this is no fucking game.”

  He looked up at the unnatural sky. “Why’s the sun so dark? Are we having some sort of eclipse?”

  “I don’t know. It’s the apocalypse, doomsday, Armageddon. Take your pick.”

  “That’s just great,” he said. “I’ve been working my ass off to get through my junior year of college and the freaking world comes to an end.”

  An obese zombie wearing an OU cap staggered to the other side of the garage-door window. The man’s lower face and double chin looked as if they had gone through a meat grinder. The horrid thing peered with glossy eyes through the glass.

  “I should’ve known his fat ass would still show up.” The kid shook his head.

  “Who is it?”

  “That’s Shep Herman. His farm is a couple of miles from here. Not even a zombie apocalypse would keep him away for long. He’s always hanging around freeloading coffee and telling bullshit stories.” He kicked the bottom of the garage door. “Get out of here, you fat zombie bastard!”

  Jack grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt and shoved him against the wall. “Don’t rile them up and let them know we’re in here.”

  “Hey, my ribs are really sore. Don’t push me like that.”

  “Listen, punk, let’s get something straight between us. I’m in charge here. If you want to get eaten by zombies, that’s fine by me. Hell, I’ll even throw you out under the garage door right now and let Shep there have you for lunch, but I need to think about the safety of my family. What can you do to help us?”

  “Okay, just chill. I don’t even know your name.”

  “Mr. Garrett.”

  “Okay, Mr. G.”

  “No, it’s Mr. Garrett, not Mr. G. You got that?”

  “Okay, Mr. Garrett, can you cut me some slack? My ass has been stuck under a truck only to find out I’m in a living-dead movie. Sorry if I’m not quite up on my zombie etiquette. I’m still not sure this isn’t some reality TV prank.”

  “God, I wish it was. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve gone through to get here.” Jack released the front of his shirt. “Like it or not, we’re stuck here together, so what can you do to help us?”

  “How to survive a zombie apocalypse?” The kid appeared to ponder the question for a moment. “I should have this down, since I’ve played all the Resident Evil games. All right, follow me. My name’s Doug, by the way.”

  “I know. My daughter told me, and that brings up another important thing I want to get straight between us, Doug.”

  “Yo?”

  “Touch my daughter and I’ll put a bullet through you. Are we clear?”

  “Okay, jeez.”

  * * * *

  They entered the station and found the interior nearly dark due to the lowered window shades. Kate and the children huddled behind the counter and gestured for them to be quiet. They pointed toward the locked front door, where the knob rattled back and forth. After a few seconds, the rattling stopped.

  “I bet that’s Shep,” Doug whispered.

  Jack said nothing and crossed the room. Pulling aside a window blind, he studied the activity outside. Most of the undead horde shuffled aimlessly about the parking lot. Shep was the only exception. He staggered to one of the gas pumps, lifted the nozzle, and looked down its end before dropping it to the ground.

  “Is there any way to get gas out of the pumps?” he said to Doug.

  “Not with the power off.”

  “Good.”

  “What’re they doing out there?” Kate said.

  “Just wandering around for right now. I think they’ll leave us alone if we don’t remind them we’re in here.”

  “Why don’t they just go away?” Kerri whispered.

  “My guess is they’re following some sort of residual memory from when they were alive. I bet most of them came to the station on a regular basis.”

  “That explains why Shep’s hanging around,” Doug said.

  “Who’s Shep?” Kerri said.

  “Never mind,” Jack said, clicking on his flashlight. The soft glow illuminated tired faces all around. “We’re safe for the moment, so let’s catch our breath.”

  “This is a good time for introductions,” Doug suggested. “You people saved my life and I don’t even know you.”

  Kerri took the initiative. “This is my mother, Kate, and this little brat is my brother, Brett.”

  “Hello.”

  “And, of course, you met my father, Jack.”

  “Mr. G—I mean Mr. Garrett and I already exchanged pleasantries in the garage.” He flashed a smile. “I’m Doug Saunders and it’s a freaking miracle you came back when you did. I’ve been trapped under the truck since the quake. I had no idea there were zombies outside, and I hate to think what would’ve happened if they had found me first.”

  “Okay, introductions are out of the way.” Jack leaned the rifle against the counter. “I’m starving. You got a key to the vending machines?”

  “Sure do,” Doug said and went behind the counter. He slid open a drawer and pulled out a ring of keys. “The silver one opens the snack machine. The large turnkey is for the pop machine. Help yourself.”

  He tossed the ring to Jack, who unlocked the front of the snack machine and swung it open.

  “Can I have a candy bar, Dad?” Brett said.

  “Sure, buddy. I think dental hygiene isn’t what we have to worry about at the moment. Grab me a bag of Doritos, will you, champ?”

  Brett handed him a bag of chips and he tore it open. Then he unlocked the pop machine and passed out bottles of water for everyone. They twisted off the tops and took long drinks.

  “I’m glad we still got this.” Doug reached below the counter and brought up a snub-nosed .38 pistol. “It’s old Puss Cobb’s gun. We keep it for protection in case of a robbery.” He dropped the cylinder down and snapped it back up. “It’s fully loaded, too. Six rounds ready to go.”

  “Can you shoot it?” Jack said between crunches of potato chips.

  “Not really. My granddad tried to teach me how to fire a pistol, but I was more interested in shooting guns in video games.”

  “Keep it for now, but don’t wave it around with my family near.”

  “Will do.” Doug slid the .38 into the waistband
of his jeans. “Now I feel like the Outlaw Josey Wales.”

  “That movie’s a little before your time,” Jack said, surprised.

  “My granddad’s a big fan of John Wayne and Clint Eastwood. I grew up watching those movies.”

  Jack ran his hand through his hair and let out a tired breath. “A hundred zombies outside waiting to eat us and we’re in here talking Eastwood movies.”

  “Just keeping it real, yo.”

  “You got another chair to sit on?” Jack said, looking around.

  “There are more folding chairs in the supply closet.”

  Doug crossed the room, opened a narrow door, and pulled out two chairs. He handed one to Jack, who unfolded it and sat down.

  “Okay, let’s take a moment and look at our current situation,” he said as everyone huddled in the dim light. “We’ve got shelter, weapons, food and water. That’s the good news. The bad news is we’re stuck here until help arrives or the zombies move on and leave us alone. Our food and water won’t last forever with five mouths to feed.”

  “Do you think help will come soon?” Kate said.

  Jack shook his head. “Not really. We’re in the middle of nowhere. I couldn’t even guess how long it would take for any aid to arrive. It’s not something we can count on.”

  “The government has to be mobilizing some sort of response,” Kate said. “The president must be doing something.”

  “Look at what happened with Katrina. It took days before FEMA responded. I think this disaster’s a lot bigger.” He turned to Doug. “How long before your truck is fixed?”

  “It’s my granddad’s truck. He uses it on his farm to feed the cattle. I just drove it in today to do some work on it. I was in the middle of changing the front brakes when the quake struck.” He shrugged. “An hour at the most.”

  “Go ahead and finish it. We may need to get out of here in a hurry.”

  “Okay.” He reached into the supply closet, emptied a cardboard box, and grabbed a roll of duct tape. “First I’m taping cardboard over the garage windows to keep those things from looking in. Shep was creepy enough in real life; he's even creepier as a zombie.”

  “I’ll help,” Kerri said.

  “No—” Kate squeezed his arm, signaling for him to stop, and he gave an approving nod. “Just be quiet.”

  Kerri and Doug disappeared into the garage.

  “Can I go too, Dad?” Brett said.

  “Yeah, keep an eye on your sister with that punk kid. Can you do that for me, buddy?”

  Brett smiled big. “Sure thing.”

  Jack watched his son leave the room and realized that even though the world had turned into a living nightmare, they were still a family. Not even doomsday was going to destroy that.

  Brett stuck his head back into the room. “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t think zombies are cool anymore.”

  Jack chuckled. “Neither do I, son.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After everyone left for the garage, Kate crossed the room and sat in the chair in front of Jack.

  “You look exhausted,” she said, putting her arm around his shoulders.

  “I am.” He leaned his head against the softness of her chest. “My God, Kate, I shot that poor girl and her baby. My hands are still shaking.”

  “You saved her from being eaten by zombies.” She stroked his hair. “It’s a brave thing you did.”

  “I don’t feel very brave.”

  “You got us this far. No one could ask for more.”

  “But we’re not out of danger yet.” Jack looked toward the front door. “The dead are still out there. Maybe you’re right, Kate. This is God’s Judgment Day, and I’m a fool for trying to delay the inevitable. Maybe I should just accept our fate.”

  “It’s not the Judgment Day I pictured from the Bible.”

  He pulled back to look into her face. “The Scriptures didn’t mention hordes of zombies?”

  “No. Not even close.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  She looked down and tears misted her eyes. “There’s supposed to be the Rapture first, with angels carrying Christians to the glory of heaven. I see none of God’s love in what’s happening now. All I’ve seen is senseless death and destruction. I feel like the Lord has forsaken me.”

  He took her slim hands in his. “Don’t give up on the big guy upstairs yet.”

  “But you don’t believe in religion.” She looked up with surprise in her eyes.

  “I have no answers for this, Kate. A rational belief system doesn’t explain today’s events. I can’t think of any scientific reason for the dead rising out of the grave. It’s something beyond science. If your faith gives you strength, then draw from it.”

  “I will.”

  Jack leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I hit you back there at the graveyard.”

  “I should’ve listened to you. The Bible preaches for wives to submit to their husbands, as to the Lord.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve let my pride get in the way of my duty as a wife for too long.”

  “Are we good then?”

  “I’ve asked God to forgive you, Jack.”

  “Thanks”

  “You should ask forgiveness, too.”

  “God and I are not on the best of terms at the moment. If he exists, where was he when I had to shoot that poor girl and her baby?”

  “In the same situation, would you do the same for me?” she said quietly.

  He pulled back from her arms to stare into her green eyes. “What’re you asking, Kate?”

  “The thought of being eaten by zombies terrifies me. I couldn’t think of a worse fate for the children. Promise me you’d do the right thing if there’s no hope of escape.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Jack, I have no fear of death, for I’m saved in the eyes of the Lord. Promise me you’d do it.”

  “I promise, but only if there’s no other way.” He stood and picked up the rifle and the binoculars from the counter. “I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the roof.”

  * * * *

  Jack entered the garage bay and found that cardboard had been taped over the window to thwart any undead Peeping Toms. He was surprised to find that a battery-powered Coleman lantern on the floor lighted the interior with a soft fluorescent glow. Kerri knelt beside the truck and talked with Doug as he worked underneath. Brett sat perched on a nearby workbench swinging his legs and drinking a Dr. Pepper.

  “Hi, Dad,” he said with a wave.

  “Where’d the lantern come from?” Jack said.

  Doug rolled out from under the truck. “I packed some camping gear into the truck a few days ago.”

  “What kind of gear?”

  He stood and wiped his hands on an oil rag. “Oh, just a few things I use when I go fishing at Grover Lake. There’s a small tent, a propane stove, a couple of fishing rods, and this bad boy.” He reached into the bed and pulled up a Husqvarna chain saw. “It’s just the thing for fighting off zombies.”

  “You go fishing with a chain saw?”

  Doug chuckled. “No. I promised Granddad I’d clear some brush off his property after work today. She’s gassed up and ready to go.”

  “Isn’t it cool, Dad?” Brett said.

  “I guess so. How’s the truck coming?”

  “Almost done.”

  “Good.”

  Kerri shot a fearful glance toward the garage door. “What’s happening outside? I haven’t heard anything for a while.”

  “Nothing at the moment,” Jack said. “They’re just shuffling around the parking lot like they’ve got nothing better to do. I’m going up to the roof to see things from there.”

  Jack crossed the room to the rungs on the wall, climbed to the ceiling, and unlocked the hatch to the eerie gray light outside. He exited onto the tar-paper roof of the old gas station and looked around. The first
thing he noticed was that the sky was filled with twisting dark clouds driven by some great wind in the upper atmosphere, though he felt nothing but a light breeze. Intermittent flashes of lightning laced the sky with fingers of electric blue-green. No thunder accompanied the strange phenomenon. The sun peeked through gaps in the clouds as a black orb in perpetual full eclipse.

  Puss Cobb’s raspy words repeated in his mind: “The sun will go dark and become as black as sackcloth.”

  The sickly aroma of rotting meat hung heavily on the breeze. Jack realized it was coming from the undead circling the gas station, and it brought him to a startling conclusion: Even though the zombies were animated, their bodies continued to rot in the heat of the day. How long would they last before decomposition reduced them to nothing? Six weeks? Six months? The key to human survival could mean outlasting the living dead until they collapsed into nothing but piles of decayed bones.

  Jack needed to know more about his enemy. He slipped the safety off the rifle and walked carefully to the roof’s edge. In the gravel lot below, a dozen zombies immediately stopped moving and turned their dead faces up to stare at him. From their mouths escaped a chorus of loud moans beckoning more to join their numbers. Soon they amassed into a wailing crowd of undead wanting to devour his flesh. They threw themselves against the side of the station, clawing and tearing off fingernails in a frenzied attempt to reach him atop the wall. The stench rising from their collective corpulence sickened him to the point of revulsion, and he stepped back to reflect on what he had just learned.

  The undead had seen him the instant he’d walked to the roof’s edge, but how was that possible when most possessed lifeless milky-white eyes and others just empty sockets? Jack realized that something other than sight had to be at work here. A psychic sense that detected the presence of the living? It explained why the zombies hadn’t left the area and moved on. They sensed the living flesh within the gas station. But what process granted them that ability, and for that matter, what had created them in the first place? He had been so busy running from zombies that he hadn’t considered the source of their mass resurrection. He assumed it was some sort of virus as portrayed in countless zombie movies and books, but in reality, it would take days or weeks for a contagion to infect so many. This event had happened in a single cataclysmic morning. The work of some unknown radiation from outer space? Interstellar atoms do pass through the human body every second, but why would they suddenly re-animate the dead? It didn’t seem plausible to Jack. A force unknown to science had to be the culprit.