I thought about ending him for what he’d done but decided to bring him back and let the group decide what to do with him.
I decided to tie Santos’s wrists with zip strips because he was still out of control. I prepared to drive away. Just then, we got a call from Wes. “A huge horde of zombies is moving down Chestnut Street. A bunch of them went by but a few stumbled into the barricade. The Civic rolled back a bit and they forced an opening. Now a bunch of them are coming in. So far, Dad and I have been able to kill them without shooting, but the gap is getting wider. What do you think?”
“How many of them walked by before this happened?”
“They were walking by for at least ten minutes before they found the opening.”
“Can you see the end of the horde?”
“No.”
“All right, keep killing them silently for as long as you can then retreat. Maybe most of it will pass before you have to shoot. Rig a few trip wires across the street to slow them down.”
“Okay. Over.”
As I saw it, I had three options. One was to return to the house and help fight at the house. I didn’t think one more gun would help enough. A second was to follow the horde down Chestnut Street and attack from the rear. I would have done that if Stan and Santos could have helped but again, I was not sure that I could help enough alone. The third option, which I chose, was to try to flank the horde, come out ahead of it on Chestnut, and make enough noise to draw the horde past my street.
I radioed back to Wes. “Call for reinforcements to help you kill silently. See if you can force the Civic back and close the gap. I’m going to go up Bradford Street then cut through Oak to come out ahead of them on Chestnut. I’ll try to draw them off. If you don’t have to shoot you should be okay.”
“Sounds good, Jack. Will do.”
I hit the gas and headed up Chestnut Street. The sight of the horde took my breath away. They were packed together shoulder to shoulder and covered the entire width of the street. I couldn’t see where the horde ended but it looked like it extended well past the next curve, which was a half mile away. The back end of the horde actually extended past Bradford Street.
I dropped the Hummer into four wheel low and cut through the rear corner of the crowd to get on to Bradford, crushing at least fifty of them as I went. Once I was through the crowd, I fired a few shots to see if I could draw some up Bradford but none followed. They continued to shuffle up Chestnut.
I put it in four wheel high and raced down Bradford then onto Oak. Oak joined Chestnut about 2 miles up from Bradford, about a half mile past my street but on the other side. When I approached Chestnut, the zombies had already passed Oak and were continuing down Chestnut. The horde was immense. Literally too many to shoot.
I dropped the Hummer into four low and slammed into the crowd. Drawing the horde off was the only way for our group to survive. We simply did not have the weapons or the personnel to fight off the whole horde. The Hummer fought valiantly but ultimately the tires started to spin on the flesh and blood of the zombies that I’d just crushed. The Hummer was caught in the horde, which carried it along. A few zombies notice me and snapped, snarled, and frothed at me, but the pack kept moving.
A few moments later, we’d moved past the slick spot and I was able to gun it again until I got bogged again. I did this again and again until I got to the front of the horde. I popped the hatch and the windows and turned the stereo on full blast while beeping the horn and firing my shotgun out the window. Stan, Jr. woke up and looked at me like I had gone batshit, then passed out again. The zombies in the front of the pack began to notice me and started to track the Hummer. They were following me! The outliers on the sides slowly stopped trashing houses and also started to follow me. The chase was on.
I figured if I was able to pick up the pace a bit I could draw the zombies away a bit quicker. According to the Hummer’s digital speedometer, zombie max speed is about 4-5 miles per hour, and that’s for the fast ones. Those young fast ones kept coming to the front of the pack and catching up. I’d take the opportunity to back over them or turn around and run them over. I was getting a bunch but the process seemed endless.
I decided to see if the pack would turn onto Route 18. There was a bridge under construction there and I wondered if I could lead the pack to the bridge and figure out a way to get them to fall to the river, about 100 feet below. Of course, I also needed to figure out a way to survive, since I didn’t want to drive the Hummer off the bridge.
I decided to wake Stan, Jr. I smacked him a few times and threw water in his face. No luck. Finally, I fired my .45 in front of his face and that woke him up. I told him what I was doing and to free Santos and drag him up front. Stan, Jr. was in bad shape but he was able to cut the zip ties and drag him between the seats.
“Okay, here’s the deal. You have to help us. No more shooting the good guys. Mariana is now a zombie and if she kills anyone it’s on you. I know you’re just a kid but we need you to help. Will you help us?”
Santos snarled at me. “You tried to kill my sister. I’m going to get you.”
“Last chance, asshole. Are you in or out?” I remembered an incident where Santos had been caught spray painting and vandalizing the local high school. When he was caught, he actually sued the police for police brutality. He was a total punk. I thought briefly about whether we really needed Santos and decided that his attitude in the next five seconds would decide it for me.
I’d heard a rumor that Santos had sexually abused a young boy in his building and even a few rumors that he’d killed and skinned a few cats. He was apparently starting a crime gang in town but the cops had been able to control it so far. Simply stated, Santos was not a quality human being and I wondered about including him in the new gene pool.
“I’ll kill you both,” he hissed.
That was enough. I was done. I knocked Santos out with a backhand and threw him out the door. He was immediately trampled by the zombies. Those who tried to stop and eat him were crushed by the pack. In about two seconds, he was gone from sight.
“Jesus Christ, Jack. That was just a kid. Why’d you throw him out?”
“He was a dangerous punk. No room for his type in this brave new world.”
“I’ll remember to try not to piss you off.”
“You’ll piss me off if you die so that’s a good place to start. Also, your father will probably kill me.”
At that point we saw the unfinished bridge ahead of us. It was beautiful, the type of bridge that is so high you’re actually scared to drive over it. This was even worse, because there was a fifty foot gap in the middle of it. It was protected by concrete Jersey barriers. I sped up to give us a bit more time to figure out how to move them.
Stan came up with the solution. “Ram them with the Hummer. Stick a grenade under. See what happens.”
I did it. The grenades did the trick. We quickly blew six of the barriers out of the way, leaving a gap of at least 25 feet—and a path to the open part of the bridge blocked only by a chain link construction fence. The sound of the grenades excited the zombies and their speed increased, as did their moaning. We blasted through that the chain link with the Hummer, then drove back a ways to look for a ladder to climb. We’d seen several on the way past. The superstructure of the bridge was complete, but the road bed was not.
We found our ladder and I dropped Stan off. He took only his .45 and some ammo. He couldn’t carry anything else because of his arm. I drove back to the horde and turned around to lead them through the gap. They followed like children after the Pied Piper. I got out at the ladder, rigging my shotgun on the gas to keep the Hummer going real slow, and started climbing. I was able to bring both .308s and all the ammo, plus my .45 and its ammo, plus some water for Stan and some M & Ms for me.
Stan was safe on a walkway next to the ladder. He agreed to make sure that no zombies got up the ladder. A few of the quicker zombies saw us and tried to move towards it. Just as Stan prepared to shoot, they w
ere trampled by the crowd, which kept moving towards the gap in the bridge.
I told Stan that, despite being scared shitless, I was going to climb over the gap and come down on the other side. From there, I’d make noise and otherwise taunt the zombies and hopefully cause them to plummet to their death. Stan reminded me to watch out for zombies already on the other side.
I walked over the walkway and found a ladder down. There actually were a dozen zombies on the bridge but they were on the other side of the chain link so I was safe. I went to the very edge of the gap and started shooting. I did it for the sound, but I decided not to waste my shots and to get some practice in so I went for head shots.
The Hummer had been caught by the lead zombies, who wanted to rip into it but, as they did, they were rolled over by the pack. The lead edge slowly approached and then reached the gap. Zombies began to tumble over. I saw three tall and relatively intact zombies that seemed to be trying to stop the crowd as if they realized what was happening.
It was well over 100 feet to the river below. The zombies smashed open on the rocks below, their guts and gore spraying everywhere. Some landed in the river and sank like rocks. The three tall ones couldn’t stop the mass and were swept over. A few got up down below and started moving around, so I dropped them with the .308.
It was a glorious sight. There was no way for the zombies to stop. They were mindless, and they were constantly pushed from behind. Every once in a while, I’d shoot and that would reinvigorate the zombies. They were downwind of me and I’m sure they could smell me as well. There were definitely a few of the taller intact ones that seemed to be figuring things out but they were all trapped in the horde and ended up going over the edge.
The parade took at least forty five minutes. I estimated that if there were fifteen zombies per foot, and they were moving at four miles per hour, a huge shitload, perhaps even a shitload and a half, met their maker that day. As I had that thought, I wondered who their “maker” was. I figured I’d never know and that if anyone was responsible they’d probably already died or turned.
Among the last to go over were Mariana and Santos. It looked like both had turned. It was almost like they knew they were brother and sister. Santos exuded malice. He seemed to stare right at me. I actually flinched. I didn’t shoot but let them tumble over the edge on their own. They landed on a huge pile of zombies below and did not move.
The entire time, I was frantic with worry about my family and friends back at home. We were out of radio range. I scrambled back up the ladder and returned to Stan, Jr. He had bled out and died. I think he could have lived under normal circumstances but no medical help was available. The closest we had was a nursing student with less than two years of study and she was fighting for her own life.
I wasn’t sure if Stan could be infected in his current state but I didn’t think so, or that any zombies could get him up there, so I left him there. I grabbed his .45 and ammo and headed home.
Chapter Eleven: Aftermath
A mile or so up the road, I broke into a house, grabbed an old bike, hopped on and started pedaling like mad. I turned onto Chestnut and arrived at my street.
The barricade seemed intact at first, but as I got through I saw that Wes must have pushed the Civic back in place by ramming it with a truck. He had gotten stuck in the truck and zombies had gotten to him. He had a hole in his temple, so someone had ended him. Wes had an M4 and a few magazines left so I put the .308s in the truck and took the M4.
There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of dead zombies stacked behind the barricade. The stench was horrible. One of the street’s drainage catch basins was full of blood and the black ooze that zombies exuded. There were definitely moaning zombies under there but no time to worry about them. The trip lines that Wes had set up were down but there were concentrations of dead zombies laid out along each line.
I jogged down the street. There was no noise. I came around the corner to where I could see my front yard and driveway. Stacks and stacks of zombies. I called out and heard Mike call back from the roof. I realized I hadn’t drawn a breath for at least a minute. What a relief! I had started to think that they were all dead.
I moved carefully through the barricade and at times I had to climb over bodies to approach. The fence was down and the trench was filled to the top. It was level and packed tight with dead bodies. It had worked well enough but there had simply been too many of them.
As I approached the tree where we had decided to post Wes I called out. Bodies were stacked high all around it. Bobbie called back. “Dad, I’m up here with Sean and Tyler. Mom put us up here and we shot as many as we could. I don’t know where Mom is!”
Sean chimed in “We couldn’t call you on the radio. Where were you?”
“I was out of range, sorry. I’ll tell you about it later. Are you okay?”
“The zombies couldn’t get up here. Tyler looks fine but he won’t talk and he’s just rocking back and forth.”
I wasn’t surprised about Tyler. No young kid should have to go through what he’d seen and done. Maybe time would help.
“You guys stay up there. Do you have any ammo?”
“Yes, we still have plenty. “
“Good girl. You guys stay right there and keep an eye out. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I called out to Mike as I moved toward the house. “Mike, who is with you?”
Mike called back: “Dad, I’m out of ammo except for my pistol. I’m alone up here. The roof was safe. Rich jumped off the garage roof to help Jamie and Carol and he got killed. I think a bunch of zombies are in the house. I heard a lot of shots and screaming in there.”
“What else did you see?”
“I think a few people made it into the trees behind the house but I’m not sure. I tried to cover them but I couldn’t see all the way into the trees. I did hear some shooting from there.”
I jogged around back. Julie was in one of the tree stands and she was okay. Stan, Marj, and Christina were in another and seemed fine. I had to tell them about Stan, Jr. They already knew about Wes. They were shattered but it was literally an alternate reality. It was not the time to fall apart but we all knew that time would come.
The third tree stand was empty. Any survivors would be in the house, or had run away. I wondered about Jake and Cody. They’d been with my kids. I yelled out for Jake and after awhile, he answered. He and Cody had ended up in a tree way back in the woods. He was out of ammo and they were scared shitless. He still had the Mini, though.
That left Mom, Kate, Mary, Eddie and Charlie to worry about. I went in through the garage, calling out loudly, and entered the house. The door was not barricaded. Silence. No sound at all. I called down to the basement. Nothing. I quickly climbed down the ladder. There was one zombie down there, still alive, eating Charlie. We hadn’t even had time to train him to kill one. What a shame. I shot it in the head, ended Charlie, and cleared the basement. I had left Molly and Shithead in crates down there and let them out. They seemed fine. I had to carry them up the ladder to let them out.
Back upstairs, I checked each room. The kitchen was full of the dead. They had broken through the plywood over the slider and gotten in. Mary was under the pile, clearly dead, holding an empty .22 pistol in one hand. She was pretty well chewed up. She had apparently used her last bullet to take her own life.
Mom and Eddie were at the base of the stairs. Eddie was alive but had been mauled and was about to die. I didn’t want him to turn so I ended him with my .45.
Like Mary, Mom had ended herself. She was covered with gashes and bites. She was surrounded by dead zombies and had certainly gone out fighting. I was heartbroken that I lost both Dad and Mom to such horrible and violent deaths in a few days. I was living a nightmare.
The stairway was choked with bodies. I dreaded what I would find at the top. Kate. I climbed up, calling out as I went. The entire second floor was covered in blood, guts and bodies.
I finally
heard Kate calling but couldn’t tell where she was. I checked the attic stairs and the sound was louder up there so I carefully climbed up, again stepping on bodies as I went. The attic was full of live zombies! I quickly took them down with the M4. I counted 20 before I ran out of ammo, then began dealing with my crowbar. Soon enough, I was alone.
I heard another sound. It was Kate. She had crawled behind the air handler for the central air system and barricaded herself in. She was cut to ribbons because she had to enter through a tiny gap. None of the zombies could get at her. She’d had to lay there in a pool of her own blood and wait for rescue—or death. She was sobbing, and asking again and again about the kids. I told her they seemed okay but everyone needed to be checked out carefully.
I grabbed my tool kit and started dismantling the air handler. It took about an hour to take it apart enough to get Kate out. We talked while I worked, but I could tell Kate was getting weaker and weaker. Finally, she passed out and I went wild tearing the thing apart to get to her. I gently brought her out and laid her on top of an old desk that we had up there. She was a mess.
I washed up with hand sanitizer as best I could. I poured rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide all over Kate because there was so much virus around. To be honest, I also went through about a gallon of bleach, which I never told her. She was screaming in pain but at least she was alive. I bandaged her wounds with clean rags. I duct taped the larger ones closed to stop the bleeding.
I went downstairs, stripped, gave myself a quick bleach wash, and changed into some clean clothes. I had been so covered in zombie gore that I was afraid to carry Kate until I was clean. I carefully brought her down from the attic.
I called Mike downstairs and gathered everyone together. “We need to move next door to Mom’s house. This place is contaminated and I’m going to burn it down. We have to save what we can and move it over. Until we’ve had time to do that, we’ll all stay together next door. Everyone grab weapons and a few MREs and water. Let’s go.”
Zombie Dawn Page 8
