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DEAD_Snapshot_Book 5_Estacada, Oregon

Page 8

by TW Brown


  “Maybe we should wait them out,” one of the men suggested. “I mean, hell, they gotta come back this way eventually…right?”

  Ken was about to blast the man for his obvious cowardice when it struck him that it might not be such a bad idea. After all, this store was massive. It had several different departments and a lot of blind corners.

  “You know…that ain’t a bad idea,” Ken agreed.

  They gathered around in the dim light that shone through from outside and prepared to wait. Every so often, they did hear shouts and hollers. It sounded to Ken like one giant party. A few times there were loud crashes and what sounded like shattering glass. It became clear that this was some big romp for Chad and his little flock of delinquents.

  What seemed like an eternity passed as they continued to wait. Ken found himself checking his watch numerous times only to discover that a mere minute or two were all that had passed between glances. His level of growing annoyance was only matched by his mounting frustration.

  He began to question his real reason for making this trip. Was it wise to put himself and others in danger based on nothing more than assumptions of how this might be a ploy to gain leverage by the Lakes? Hell, he wasn’t even sure that the elder Lake was even aware of his son’s shenanigans.

  He had just about talked himself into pulling back and abandoning the situation when a series of loud booms echoed from deep within the store. A moment later, as the deep rumbling echo died down…a scream was heard. That scream quickly changed register into something much more horrible. Ken recognized it as the sound of absolute pain.

  “Let’s go,” Ken snapped, activating the flashlight attached to the barrel of his rifle.

  5

  Death and Blame

  Moving through the store, it became much darker than Ken realized it would. He had to slow down his advance when he almost tripped over a small aisle display of DVDs. He crept along, but the sounds ahead were growing more intense with shouts, screams, and a few gunshots mixed in for good measure.

  At last, he reached the edge of the grocery department. This brought on a new series of challenges. For one, the rows were arrayed in a combination of horizontal and vertical. This meant even more blind spots.

  The sounds echoing around the huge store were more of a detriment since it was almost impossible to tell the actual direction from which the sounds originated. He used the flashes from the few gunshots to home in on Chad and his group.

  Reaching the end of an aisle made of the freezers that kept everything from pizza to ice cream, Ken glanced down it to see a dark shadow moving around toward the far end. Bringing up his rifle, the flashlight attached to the barrel found the source. A young man was on his back, doing his best to hold a zombie away from his face.

  Taking off at a run, Ken rushed to hopefully help the kid thrashing on the floor. Pulling up just short, he kicked the creature just as its teeth were about to snap shut on the terrified boy’s nose. Despite catching the zombie with a solid kick to the temple, the creature came right back almost as if on a tether.

  Shoving the barrel of his rifle against the side of the zombie’s head, Ken gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger. He would’ve never considered firing with a person so close to the business end of his weapon until now.

  The zombie dropped instantly and the boy shoved at it, scrambling furiously to get from under the thing. It took a moment for the kid to get to his feet as he scrambled and slipped in the putrid black blood on the tile floor.

  “Where are the others?” Ken snapped as he grabbed the boy by his shoulders and jerked him around.

  “Store room,” the kid gasped and then promptly collapsed, his eyes rolling back in his head.

  Ken laid the boy down and stepped into the intersection of the aisle that terminated in a ‘T’. There were all kinds of lunch meats, hot dogs, and bacon in the refrigerated display case that ran along this back wall. To the left was a darker area where a small hall that led to the rear of the store waited for him.

  Hurrying to that hallway, he saw the swinging double doors that would open to the freight area of the store. A flash and boom from a gunshot came as confirmation that at least some of the Lake boy’s group were back there. Just as he took a step toward the doors, they flew open.

  In the glare of his flashlight, Ken could make out a boy that didn’t look any older than fifteen. The zombie that held the boy in his clutches had been a big man well over the two-hundred-pound mark. Even before he could take a step, a gurgled cry came from the boy as the zombie’s teeth sunk into exposed throat.

  A spray of blood jetted as the zombie’s head jerked back with a chunk of meat clutched in its teeth. Ken would swear for the rest of his life that he could actually see the long strands of sinewy flesh as the skin stretched and then eventually parted.

  Knowing that the kid’s fate was sealed, Ken brought his rifle to his shoulder. Just before he pulled the trigger, the boy turned his head to look his direction. Part of Ken’s mind knew that there was no way the boy could see him with the glare of that Maglite in his eyes, but it sure felt like the kid locked gazes with him.

  Ken pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the kid’s forehead, leaving a dark entry hole and then blowing out most of the back of the skull upon exit. The next shot ended the zombie.

  From beyond the double doors, more shouts and another loud crash came. Ken ratcheted another round into the chamber and pushed through. To his left was a large box with a series of big black switches. Despite wanting to track down the source of all the noise, there was a more pressing issue. Using the heel of his hand, he began throwing all the switches over with a series of loud clicks.

  He had to shield his own eyes for just a moment as even the dim lights in the storage room flickered on. Shouts from out in the store where his men were still catching up sounded along with a few surprised shrieks from just beyond a stack of pallets still laden with cases of items that would never see the shelves they’d been destined for.

  As soon as his vision adjusted, he could see three boys, one of them being Chad Lake, standing in a tight bunch. Their backs were all to each other as they stood in defensive postures. Around them were seven of the undead.

  At first, Ken could not understand how the boys had managed to get themselves trapped, then he saw yet another zombie come stumbling through a heavy plastic tarp. Before the tarp settled, he caught a glimpse of outside. Obviously one of the cargo bay doors was open and the undead were coming in from that breach.

  Charging forward, Ken slung his rifle over his shoulder and drew a blade from his hip. The first zombie he reached was an elderly woman. He caught her by the unravelling bun on the back of her head, jerked her back, and drove his blade into her temple.

  As he dropped her, the one closest to him started to turn. Ken mentally thanked the heavens that these things were so slow as he yanked his blade free in plenty of time to turn slightly and drive the point of it into the filmed over eye of this next foul creature. It fell so suddenly that he lost the grip on his weapon and had it jerked from his hand. He snatched it up and told himself to be more careful next time.

  Backing up a step, Ken breathed a sigh of relief as some of the other men moved in and began taking down the undead that had been gathering around Chad Lake and his group. Ken considered the situation for a heartbeat and then sprinted for the hanging tarp.

  He reached it just as a pale hand pushed the edge aside revealing a man’s face. His slack expression and tracer-riddled eyes giving him away as another of the undead. Reflexively, he thrust forward with his blade. This time, he yanked back just as quick. The zombie fell hard, but landed in the open doorway where several more were trickling in. The only good thing was that the fallen body landed across the entry causing the two nearest zombies to trip and fall.

  Once more he was faced with a decision that required thinking hastily. He decided that the best thing to do was get the hell out of the store. Shoving the next nearest zombie backw
ards he celebrated with a barking laugh as it toppled and caused three more to trip and fall, further clogging the one open entry.

  Turning back, he was pleased to see the last of the zombies inside the bay going down. His men seemed to all be uninjured, but he quickly noted that Chad Lake was clutching his right arm. Blood leaked between his fingers and the look of pain on the boy’s face was evident.

  “What in God’s name were you thinking?” Ken snapped as he stalked over to the kid.

  He was still a few steps away, but he could see it. He was amazed at how it almost seemed as if he could see the dark tracers as they crept and slithered through the whites of Chad’s eyes. The boy was infected.

  “Afraid we’d steal some of your glory, old man?” Chad retorted with a sneer that was made almost completely ineffective as pain seized his features once more.

  “Glory? What the hell are you talking about?” Ken asked.

  “We know all about you bringing in those trucks the other night and emptying them into the market. My dad was out with a few of his friends patrolling the streets to make sure things were safe.”

  “Fat lot of good that did the Millers,” Ken snapped before he could get his tongue back under control.

  The last thing he wanted was to lower himself to arguing with a high school kid. He eyed Chad again and corrected that thought to being one of the last things he wanted.

  “Yeah, well we’ll see what happens when we come back with not just food, but guns, ammo, and supplies like blankets and stuff,” Chad said with a nasty laugh.

  A thought struck Ken. Certainly a kid this young would not be thinking so broadly. That could only mean one thing.

  “So your dad sent you on this little mission, didn’t he?” Ken asked.

  “What if he did?”

  “Why didn’t he come himself?”

  “Probably too chicken shit,” one of Ken’s men scoffed from behind him.

  “We’ll see who’s what when I get back with all this stuff and my dad calls another town meeting. But this time, instead of trying to scare little kids, he gives them food and necessary things to make their lives better,” Chad shot back.

  His scowl was faltering, and Ken could see a sheen of sweat break out on the young man’s face. Also, the tracers in his eyes were very pronounced now. He glanced back at a few of the other boys that had tagged along with Chad on this ill-fated trip.

  “You, boy, what’s your name?” Ken asked the young man with the slightly Asian features. He recognized him but could not recall who he was.

  “Chris…Chris Beltran…what’s it to ya?” That last bit seemed to be added as a hurried afterthought as if the boy thought that his friends might suddenly turn on him for conversing with the enemy.

  “I want you to come over here for a second, Chris,” Ken said as calmly and non-threateningly as he could.

  “Why?” Chris’ challenging tone was now replaced by one of concern.

  Ken had chosen this boy in particular because he knew the kid’s parents. They were not the sort to tolerate a lot of backtalk from their son. They were sort of “old school” when it came to parenting. In fact, this one young man’s presence with this particular group had been a bit of a surprise to Ken.

  Chris edged over, his eyes darting between his friends and Ken with a look of confusion. Ken noticed that his hands were trembling slightly.

  “Take a look at your friend Chad here and tell me what you see,” Ken said softly.

  Chris turned and immediately staggered back a few steps in obvious horror. “Holy Jesus!”

  “What the hell?” Chad snapped.

  Again, Ken noticed that he didn’t sound like the brash and confident punk he knew. Chad’s voice was beginning to get a bit of a slur to it. And you could hear a tightness as if the boy was fighting off pain.

  “Your eyes, dude!” Chris finally managed to gasp.

  “What are you talking about?” Now there was something else in Chad’s tone.

  Ken knew fear when he heard it. He could even smell it coming off the boy, but that smell was being drowned out by something else that was starting to mix in that particular form of stink. It was the reek of the undead.

  Chad was infected; of this, Ken was absolutely positive. Even worse, he wasn’t sure the kid would survive the ride home.

  “You got that thing wrong with your eyes like they said on the news about people that are infected.” Chris took a step back from Chad, almost hiding behind Ken.

  “You’re crazy.” Chad gave a dismissive wave, but Ken could see the fear starting to grow on the young man’s face.

  Chad turned and dashed for a scuffed and dirty door. He threw it open and Ken could see that it was a restroom. A moment later he heard a wail of anguish. He actually felt sorry for the boy, but even more, he felt sorry for the boy’s parents.

  “We need to get out of here,” Ken insisted. “You boys shouldn’t have done this. And there are more of those things out there. The longer we stick around, the more likely we end up having to deal with a bunch of those creatures.”

  “Them things ain’t nothing to be worried about!” one of Chad’s flunkies barked. “They’re slow…can’t barely turn around.”

  “Did you forget that you boys were just surrounded by a few of them…and one of your pals is dead out in the store?” Ken shot back. “And another just plain took off running.”

  A few mouths opened, but the bravado had vanished just as quick as it surfaced. Deciding that now was as good of a time as any to get moving, Ken turned and started for the exit. He stepped out into the store, his eyes unable to avoid the blood all over the floor.

  He was almost to the door when he heard the sound of horns honking out in the parking lot. He threw a look over his shoulder and was happy to see that not only were his people on his heels, but so were Chad and his crew. Chad had his arms over the shoulders of Chris and another young man, and his head was lolling a bit. His legs were still moving, but it was clear he was being carried more than he was walking.

  They reached the doors and Ken almost tripped over himself trying to stop. Out in the lot were several of the undead heading towards the parked and idling trucks. Colton was standing in the open door of the driver’s side with a rifle resting across the top of the cab.

  Turning to the group, Ken held up his hands. “Okay, we have a few of them out there. I don’t think we can all get loaded up before they reach us. I need a few of you to come with me and take down some of the closer ones. Everybody else get your asses in the trucks.”

  He didn’t have time to wait and see who would join him. Drawing the machete on his hip, he started toward the zombies. The closest one was a middle-aged man with most of his throat missing. His balding head had a fork jutting from it, and Ken very briefly wondered what the story behind that oddity might be.

  Moving fast, he chopped into the man’s head, jerking his blade free quickly and stepping into the next closest zombie. This one was a woman with blood all over her and flaps of meat dangling from both arms where it looked like she’d been savaged by an industrial strength weed eater.

  He saw three more to his left, but the two directly in front were closer and required is immediate attention. If he could not take them down quickly, he and his group might not make it out of this parking lot.

  The meaty thud of something heavy slamming into flesh made him flinch. Ken saw Colton duck under the arms of one zombie as he yanked his axe free from the skull of the monster he’d just ended.

  A moment later, a couple of the boys and several of his men were joining the fray. Heads split or exploded in chunky gore as a variety of spiked or bladed weapons came to bear against the leading edge of this undead mob.

  Ken took down two more and looked around. They had a window of opportunity in which to make a run for it. He bellowed to the group that they needed to sprint for the trucks. That was also when he spotted a cluster of zombies on their knees. He had an idea where that the young boy who’d escaped th
e store might be.

  He was glad to see that it did not take a second issue of that order to run as a terrible scream confirmed his assumption. When he reached his pickup, he saw Chris and Chad in the rear cargo area. He shifted into drive as Colton climbed in beside him and pulled one of Chad’s group in with him.

  Jerking at the wheel, he cut through the painted parking slots and managed a U-turn hard enough to slam Colton into the kid he’d just pulled in with him. A yelp caused Ken to slam on the brakes. The kid hadn’t gotten the door pulled all the way shut and ended up being thrown free. Even as the pickup screeched to a halt, Colton was leaping from the cab and sprinting back for the boy who was sprawled in a heap on the asphalt.

  The undead were coming from seemingly everywhere now as their numbers began to grow exponentially by the second. Up ahead at the exit to the parking lot, more were coming, and Ken watched as one of the pickups clipped a few of the bodies and then smashed into another pair. There was a terrible sound, and as the truck made its turn, he could see steam or perhaps smoke starting to leak from around the edges of the hood.

  “Go, go, go!” Colton shouted as he dumped the body of the young man in the cargo area and then dove into the front seat.

  Ken stomped the gas as Colton managed to jerk the door shut. Shouts from behind him let Ken know that the boys in the cargo area were probably not enjoying the way they were being tossed around.

  They’d like being eaten by the undead a helluva lot less, he thought as he shot through the closing gap in the undead now streaming into the parking lot entrance. The sounds of bodies smacking against the sides of his truck were jarring, and once, as he drove over a downed corpse, he felt the bones shattering under his wheels. Despite how immune he believed himself to be to squeamishness, it was a struggle not to be sick as he made the sharp right turn and started the journey home.

  They drove through the backroads leading to Highway 224. The occasional zombie they’d seen on the trip in was now more of an obstacle course as they slalomed along the road doing their best to avoid hitting one of the singles or small groups of undead.

 

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