Zombies on the Rock (Book 2): The Viking Trail

by Carberry, Paul

  "Can't sleep?"

  The soft voice startled Hank, making him jump out of his thoughts. He turned around to see that the young girl had gotten out of the old recliner. She was still covered in filthy grime from working in the kitchen. Hank remembered that her name was Sasha, and that the soldiers had her working for long, gruelling hours. Even under all the crud, and despite the fact that she was malnourished, Hank found her attractive.

  "No, you get used to not sleeping when you live by yourself." Hank didn't want to alarm the young girl with his paranoid thoughts.

  Sasha put her hands in the front pocket of her sweater and shivered. "You want me to take watch?"

  "No thanks, I'll be fine." Hank stood up from his chair to stretch his legs. "Hold on a moment." Hank had remembered Sheila's stash of clothes poked away in the closet. The two girls were about the same size -- Sasha had a glow that radiated from her that Hank couldn't ignore, making him momentarily forget about his old friend. Gently opening the closet door, not wanting to wake Craig or Nick, Hank searched through a black garbage bag on the floor. After rummaging through the top layer of undershirts, Hank finally found what he was looking for. "Here, put this on." Hank held out an old, white, knitted robe. "It's not very stylish, but it should help keep you warm."

  Sasha didn't seem to know what to do -- she looked frightened, like an animal wandering towards a trap. Despite her hesitance, Hank couldn’t help but admire the moonlight as it shone though the bedroom window and lit up Sasha's golden blonde hair. Hank could feel his cheeks blush, and realized that she picked up on his stunned gaze.

  Sasha started to giggle like a young schoolgirl as she reached her arms out, allowing Hank to put the robe on her. Hank draped the wool fabric over her slender shoulders. Sasha hugged herself, wrapping up in the warmth of the garment. "Thanks."

  Sasha strolled over towards the window, looking out at the sparkles in the snow from the stars. The freshly fallen white blanket of snow dressed all of the dead leaves like a bandage. For a moment, she seemed to forget the lifeless world that entrapped them below and got lost in the tranquil scene all around her.

  Hank headed to the next room: it was completely barren except for an old table with a couple of spare candles on top. Striking a match, Hank lit the wick and headed into the spare bedroom so that he could look down into the backyard. If he didn't see anyone this time, Hank was going to finally get some sleep. The barren trees stood out like a charcoal sketch against the immense white canvas. A large drift crept up the picket fence, the boards catching the snow as the wind blew against them. The thick tree trunks glistened with the newly formed frost, dark cracks in the bark looked like devastating scars.

  The backyard was empty. Even when he concentrated for several long seconds, Hank couldn't hear the ghastly moans of the wandering zombies nearby, and finally he felt like they were safe. Hank drew the curtains tightly together; as he did so, he could hear Sasha calling out.

  "HANK!"

  The tranquility of the night was instantly broken: Hank rushed into the bedroom where Sasha and Nick had gathered in front of the window. A yellow glow of light could be seen reflected in the frosty window, and Sasha's chest was heaving as she breathed heavily. Something was wrong. Nick guided Sasha away from the window, making room for Hank to step forward and look out at the horror outside.

  Hank's heart dropped as he realized his gut feeling had been correct -- they had been followed by a villainous mob of abnormal hellions. Three fiends stood outside, garbed in black ski masks that had been pulled down over their faces. They each held fully lit torches and various, brutish weapons of ancient times. One man held a savage club; even in the dark night, Hank could see the fire's reflection blazing back at them in the blood coating the blunt wooden object. They all donned wooden helmets with horns protruding from the top, and animal furs draped around their barbaric clothes.

  Hank couldn't tell what the other two men were holding; the flames cast dark shadows all around them, their monstrous figures stretching across the snowy lawn. Sasha slid down the wall into a ball, as Nick looked to Hank for instructions.

  "What the hell are we going to do?" Nick was doing his best to remain calm, but they only had a few weapons to protect themselves. Craig had brought an old bow and arrow set with him, which was as good as useless to them, as neither man had any skill in archery.

  Hank grabbed his pickaroon and opened the window. A cold burst of air blasted his face as the frigid winter temperature crept into the bedroom.

  "Help me with the ladder!" Hank shouted out to Nick.

  "We don't stand a chance against them in a fight." Nick ran over and picked up the ancient Japanese katana from beside the bed. "They look like... Vikings?" Nick picked an end of the ladder off the ground, helping Hank push it towards the window.

  Sasha collapsed in a white lump on the floor, trying to protect herself from the wild blaze coming from the engulfed torches outside the house. The warmth of the flames was melting the snow resting on the tree branches. Rocking back and forth, Sasha did her best to comfort herself from the holocaust waiting for them outside. No one had any idea what those barbarians wanted.

  Hank shoved his end of the ladder outside the window. "You're not going to fight them, you're going to run." Hank let the metal legs sink into the snow and propped it up against the house. "Once I'm on the ground, you pull the ladder back up. Once you see me distract them, get out of the house through the other bedroom window."

  Nick grabbed Hank by the shoulder before he could climb out onto the ladder. "Where do we go? How do we know where to find you?"

  "Just get to the military base. I'll find you there." Hank pulled his hoodie up over his head and wrapped the bandanna around his face as he looked out the window.

  Hank put his legs out the window and planted his foot on the ladder. His legs were shaking, his heart was pounding, but he had to be brave. It was the only chance he had of surviving these brutes. The ladder creaked with every rung he declined, while the savages carrying the torches remained silent at the end of the yard. Hank could see figures moving in the shadows, the glow drawing forth the dead demonic creatures like a moth to the flame.

  CHAPTER TWENTY:

  UNRELENTING PURSUIT

  The chain-link fence groaned against the relentless pressure of hundreds of undead. Unrelenting howls of clanging metal rang out as the fence strained to stay erect. Soldiers drove pikes into the skulls of zombies as they leaned against the fence, only to have the fallen creature replaced by two more monsters waiting to take their turn. The dead showed no fear, no remorse; nothing would stop them from destroying the city. The eerie atmosphere was made even creepier by the wet, sucking thuds as the sharpened ends were yanked out of skulls they had just pierced. The undead accepted the killing blows without hesitation, allowing the next shambling corpse to take its place. They showed no fear, only an extreme desire for flesh. Their lifeless corpses acted like a battering ram, the increasing weight causing immense strain to the overtaxed chain-link fence.

  Jason drove his sharpened rebar into the eye socket of a former employee of the local grocery store. Her blue smock and nametag were so caked over in dried blood they were virtually unrecognizable. When Jason pulled the bar back, her lifeless body fell forward onto the metal links. Jason tried to push her back from the fence, but two more zombies pressed the cadaver forward, trapping the dead weight against the fence.

  "Jesus Christ," Jason muttered out loud. Looking around, he noticed that most of the soldiers were beginning to panic. Murmurs spread through the battalion, complaining about the orders from above to keep their weapons holstered.

  Eric had managed to drive two shuffling corpses stumbling backwards away from the fence with one swift strike, but it was too late to stop the inevitable. The fence let out a thunderous grumble as the poles started to fall towards the living. The slant caused by the mound of dead bodies threatened to trap the survivors underneath the angled fence. Jason watched as Eric kicked at a c
orpse resting near the bottom of the fence, but he was unable to budge the cumbersome creature. Eric swiftly drove the rebar into another skull, and black fluid bubbled out of the new opening as he pulled the weapon back. The muddy discharge from the zombie’s skull dribbled down its neck and onto the creature’s grey t-shirt, mixing fresh gore with dried blood.

  Jason drove the metal bar into the mouth of the nearest creature at an upward angle, forcing the pointed end out of the top of the skull. Blood flowed out of the wound like a fountain, flooding over its ghoulish face as the zombie shuddered before falling towards the fence. The corpse’s sudden fall forward startled Jason and it drove the rebar upwards in an arc, cracking Jason in the chin and nearly knocking him unconscious. Jason fell backwards, the snow thankfully cushioning his fall. His vision blurred as the world around him seemed to spin. Jason shook his head trying to shake the cobwebs loose.

  BRAAKAKKAAKKKAAA

  Flashes of automatic gun erupted all around them, spreading dismay and confusion like wildfire through the soldiers. Deafening, roaring, ear-popping booms ripped through the crowd, and a crimson mist sprayed the air as bullets tore through dead flesh. There were so many zombies in the herd, the combination of bullets and moans created a complete anarchy. Jason was terrified watching the soldiers miss their marks too often, wasting bullets in a sea of body shots and misses. Several of the creatures twitched and shuddered as bullets dug into their chests and stomachs, but they just kept pushing forward in spite of the attack.

  BRRRAAKKKAAAKKKAKKAKAKKAAA

  Jason looked up as the fence shuddered, the weight becoming unbearable. In the fury of bullets and blood, Jason stared at the top of the slowly collapsing fence as it swayed up and down erratically.

  BRRAKKAABRAKKKABRAKAKAK

  Flashes burst all around Jason -- chaos was boiling over the military base and turning it into a labyrinth of pandemonium. It was every man for himself now. Looking away from the fence, Jason gawked at all of the heinous eyes staring down at him, each one belonging to a creature that was ready to devour every last ounce of flesh on the other side of the weakened fence.

  "Jason."

  The voice sounded remote and foreign as Jason stared at the chain-links starting to rip away from the metal bar. The zombies had begun to climb onto the slanted fence.

  "JASSOONN!"

  BRAAKKKAKAKABRAAKKKAKA

  Every soldier joined in the fray, but the battle was already lost. There were too many of the walking corpses; the zombies kept pushing up against the fence surrounding the military base, causing an endless wave of pressure between the living and the dead. Jason stood motionless opposite the flesh hungry monsters, he watched as they pressed their faces into the chain link flesh. The cold metal cutting into their cheeks as the monsters in the back of the horde kept trying to push forward. For every bullet that found its mark, several more were wasted. Panic had rattled the soldiers' nerves, causing them to fire erratically into the hordes of flesh-eating freaks flooding towards them.

  One loud, booming creak echoed over the base, signalling the zombies' victory over the living. The fence could no longer bear the ferocious, unrelenting burden the dead had placed on it. It seemed to fall in slow motion with the top metal bar aiming straight at Jason's face.

  "JASON!"

  A pair of hands grasped Jason by the shoulders, dragging him backwards out of danger as the bar smashed into the snow inches from Jason's feet. Jason turned around: Eric was winded, strained by the great exertion.

  Two poor victims screamed out in agony as the fence pinned them to the ground. Zombies swarmed on top of the soldiers as the monsters started to pull their bodies apart, feasting on them through the chain-links. Jason could see intestines being yanked out of the soldiers’ stomachs, pulled through the holes in the fence, and stuffed into the demonic faces. The vile creatures were feeding on the vital organs like frenzied animals. Blood and guts dripped from their faces as they feasted on the helpless victims, their final cries of suffering sending the zombies into a rage.

  BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG

  Eric expertly lined up his shots, decisively placing bullets into the four closest threats. Smoke rose from the barrel of Eric's revolver as he opened the chamber to load more bullets into gun. "Get up, Jason." Eric bellowed as he took aim once more.

  BANG BANG

  Two more zombies seized as bullets ripped through their skulls, exploding out of the back in a fiery display of gore. Their lifeless bodies fell into the snow as several more of the undead shambled towards them.

  BRAAAAKKAKAKAKKAAA

  Automatic gunfire rained all around them; however, only few of the shots made their mark. A mere handful of the creatures collapsed as the soldiers began to fall back, gathering together at the back of the building. Terrified screams rang out as the survivors inside the building scrambled outside the doors, scurrying in every direction as they tried to get to safety. They were unprepared: most of them only had t-shirts or pyjamas on as they sprinted for their lives. The soldiers were trying to get the civilians to follow them, but it was no use. The dead were too close.

  "Jason." Eric held his hand out for Jason to help him get to his feet.

  Jason still felt woozy. His head started to spin, a throbbing pain making it difficult to get a grip. "What are we going to do?"

  Eric started to shove Jason towards the back of the ambulance. "Get in." They dashed over to the ambulance; its back doors were wide open. Jason could tell that there were people in the back, but his vision couldn’t focus enough to tell who they were. Eric shoved Jason into the back, quickly slamming the door closed as he jumped into the back himself.

  "Go, Dana!" Eric called out to his wife.

  Jason felt the tires spin out, flicking snow out from underneath. The ambulance started to sink further into the snow until they finally caught grip on the pavement, propelling them forward in a violent lunge. The sudden burst of movement sent Jason spiralling towards the stretcher, crashing hard into the metal frame and knocking the wind from his lungs.

  Jason struggled to catch his breath. Jack knelt besides him, guiding him towards the seat. Vision finally clearing, Jason looked up at the familiar faces around him. Tina and Ted sat across from him, Calvin was strapped to the stretcher, and Jack and Stella sat next to Jason. Eric was near the front of the cab talking to Dana, while someone wearing an army jacket sat in the passenger seat. The ambulance crashed into the metal fence, rocking violently as it made a sharp left turn. The sound of gunfire and gargled moans started to fade as the ambulance sped down the road, the tires spitting up snow as it ploughed forward into the dead city.

  Nick was trembling with fear as he watched Hank climb down the ladder. The flames from the torch cast flickering shadows that danced across the snow covered lawn. Hank leapt down from the ladder and sank down almost a foot into one of the drifts. As soon as Hank was off, Nick hoisted the ladder back upstairs, the metal clanking against the windowsill as he rocked it up and down, struggling to move the awkward size of the object alone.

  Sasha rocked herself back and forth underneath the white robe while Craig lay unconscious on the bed. Nick felt like he should be down on the ground with Hank, but he couldn't leave these two newcomers alone. They needed Nick to protect them. They were completely defenceless against the outside world and they wouldn't survive long alone in the second level of this house. They would starve to death if the zombies, or those barbaric Vikings, didn't kill them first.

  Looking out the window, he watched Hank raise the pickaroon to his shoulder, pointing the speared end at the assailants. Loud, booming voices bellowed at Hank, commanding him to surrender.

  Nick had to get Sasha and Craig to the military base, but he had no idea how he was going to manage that feat. Both of them seemed too shaken to bring back to reality.

  Nick walked over to the white lump on the floor and pulled back the cotton robe. Sasha was shaking her head back and forth, muttering nonsense to herself. "Sasha." Nick shook the wretche
d woman, trying to rustle her back to reality.

  Sasha stared at Nick, a peculiar look in her eyes as she gazed at him in a distant trance. Nick continued to rattle her torso back and forth, her hair dancing wildly around her. "Sasha. Please, I need your help." Nick let some of the desperation he felt creep into his voice in the hope that it would snap her back into reality.

  Finally noticing Nick's presence, Sasha's eyes focused on the window behind him. "Where's Hank?" Sasha bawled.

  "He's trying to save us from those people out there, we have to leave right now." Outside the window, Hank toiled through the deep snow towards the Vikings, ready to grapple with them.

  Sasha looked out the window at Hank as he swung the pickaroon in a deadly arc, knocking the torch out of the hands of the largest enemy. The flames were doused in the snow instantly. The man quickly pulled out a shield that had been attached to his back.

  "Hank!" Sasha cried out, reaching her arms out of the window. "We have to help him."

  "We can't, we'd all die in a contest with those berserk savages. Our only chance is to reach the military base; once Hank knows that we are out of the house, he's going to run away from them and meet us there. So the quicker we get out of here, the faster Hank can too." Nick didn't believe that Hank was going to escape from this brawl with his life, but Nick knew he had to get Sasha to safety.

  Sasha retreated from the window. The realization that there was nothing they could do for Hank was finally coming to fruition. "What about him?" Sasha observed Craig's unconscious body crashed underneath the covers.

  Nick went over and snapped his fingers in front of Craig's face, but he was unresponsive. "I'm going to get the ladder ready, you keep trying to wake Craig up, okay?"

  Sasha nodded in agreement as she made her way to Craig's side. She started to nudge his arms trying to wake him. Nick picked the ladder up, and guided it into the spare room. In a rush, Nick smashed the window out with the end of the ladder. Shattered glass fell everywhere, both inside and out.